#when they wake up and blame her she lies (first lie she’s ever told post lobotomy) and tells them she woke up to the girl bleeding

[swordmaid]

for some reason the post durge act 1 scene confrontation only happens with alfira and not with quill, and since that confrontation dialogue is one of my faves for yves’ character bc I make her blame astarion then giggle about it afterwards, alfira is now dead in her playthrough 😭

[puppypeter]

These are all dark fics, READ THE TAGS before reading the fics. It is your responsibility to check whether what you are about to read is something that you can stomach. While most of these fics are based around trauma, recovery etc many feature triggering scenes or flashbacks as well as darker themes. Please be safe and don’t read them if they can be triggering for you! Proceed with caution! Most of them are Hydra Trash, but still not just the ugly bits as I like there to be a plot. Hiding them below the cut:

between scylla and charybdis | 21590 words

Sam Wilson has been witness to a lot of things he wishes he could unsee. Civilian families shot dead in their cars because of miscommunications at checkpoints. Riley’s body spiralling to the ground in a smoke-plumed plummet. His own face in his bathroom mirror after waking up hung-over as hell at two in the afternoon, the day after the anniversary of Riley’s death, year after year after year.

And now, in an abandoned bunker on the outskirts of Boston, a seemingly unremarkable manila folder at the bottom of a filing cabinet.

Berceuse | 10730 words

There are strange, new things Bucky needs from Steve.

Dreamers Often Lie | 11040 words

As far as Bucky remembers, sex is something that is painful and terrifying if you wake up while it's happening. As the Asset, sleeping through sex was a rare treat. When Steve lets Bucky know he's interested in a sexual relationship, what Steve doesn't know is that they have fundamentally different ideas of what that entails.

despite the threatening sky and the shuddering earth (they remained) | 71532 words

“They really didn’t want the mask to come off.” Hill thumbed through the scans, and pulled out a film that she then handed over to Sam, face mostly expressionless but for the flat line of her pursed lips.

Sam accepted the film and held it up to the light, angling so both he and Steve could see it, squinting at the outline of the Winter Soldier’s skull, and the blips of unnatural white that showed up, God, in his brain, not to mention about half his teeth, plus the mask, with its thin protrusions—

“Those are pins,” Steve realized. He looked over at Hill. “The mask—it’s nailed to his face.”

Hill’s face was as unmoved as ever. “Like I said. They really didn’t want it coming off.”

Fire And Water For Your Love | 77084 words

When the Avengers investigate an abandoned HYDRA base on behalf of S.H.I.E.L.D., they unexpectedly encounter a dark-haired man with a torn metal arm, who leads them to an even more shocking discovery deeper inside the base. The Avengers must reconcile what they have found with the lies S.H.I.E.L.D. has been telling for decades.

Give An Inch | 5070 words

The Captain has a warm smile and clear, open eyes. The Soldier knows these are tricks. He's fallen for them before and he won't do it again.

Humans As Gods | 4818 words

"HYDRA's scientists had been delighted to find their serum-reversal procedure had worked. Their jubilation was dampened by the discovery that Steve's smaller self might no longer be Captain America-sized but was still 100% Steve Rogers, and Steve Rogers was now mad enough to spit nails. A minor oversight in the design of the containment area meant that smaller-Steve had simply wriggled out of the now ridiculously-oversized restraints like an angry ferret escaping a paper bag, and punched the nearest technician in the nuts.

Chaos ensued."

HYDRA scientists successfully de-serum Captain America, only to discover that they are utterly unprepared for Steve Rogers. Meanwhile, the Winter Soldier follows his instructions to the letter. This works out just great.

The Only One That Needs To Know | 6571 words

Bucky can't control his body. He can only control what secrets he keeps.

I Was Wearing My Blue Coat | 11503 words

Following exposure of his past as the Winter Soldier, anonymous postings of explicit video footage, 63 charges of murder and the wrath of the Internet, James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes finally steps into the limelight and tells his story to Zenat Patel of the New York Times.

Compliance Will Be Rewarded | 4767 words

Someone told him once: "Compliance will be rewarded," and he remembers pressing his head against a man’s leg in open supplication. He remembers hands in his hair, and a gentle grip on the back of his neck. He remembers a man telling him "so good, so good for me aren't you?" And he remembers nodding his head in a desperate attempt to be exactly as good as he was supposed to be.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Bucky Barnes is physically free from Hydra, but the hold on his mind lingers still. All he wants is to go home, and he'll do anything he can to get there.

To Burn Your Kingdom Down | 12370 words

The Avengers go after a Hydra splinter cell with a nasty habit of brutalizing their prisoners. Steve has some ugly history with them, and when a rescue mission gone wrong leaves him and Sam in enemy hands, the situation gets uglier still.

Worth The Wound | 7709 words

The asset knows that maintenance is better than punishment. But with Steve, maintenance becomes more pleasant, soft and gentle and everything he could dream of. It was only natural that he decided to prolong that maintenance a little longer.

The Spaces In-Between | 6971 words | Part 1 of What We Tried So Hard To Hide Away

"Memories are like buckets of water: they weigh on the heart and the brain until the body fails. You're blessed to stay forgetful and young, Soldier."

Sometimes blessings feel like curses.

Illuminate The Scene | 7086 words | Part 2 of What We Tried So Hard To Hide Away

The doctors had wanted to keep the Soldier. Shock him and freeze him until he was fixed, or tear him to scrap if he couldn’t be repaired so that he wouldn’t be an entirely wasted investment. Steve is the only thing stopping them.

When the Soldier can't trust his own body, how can he trust anything?

All These Riots Of Broken Sound | 83790 words | Part 1 of Forever Is A Close And Honest Friend

When Steve and the team return to Avengers tower to find Bucky gone, they must venture into B.A.R.F. to figure out what triggered him to leave and hunt those who wronged him. Trapped in a simulation of Bucky's worst memories with rogue HYDRA agents waiting to strike, 100 years of secrets, lies, pain and love drive the team to their limit and push Steve towards a realisation that is a century in the making.

I Was Lost But Left A Trace | 3585 words | Part 2 of Forever Is A Close And Honest Friend

Disorientated, the Asset reached up to wipe at the moisture on its cheeks and was shocked to find it clear, instead of the crimson it has been expecting. It didn’t understand why this misidentification had caused uproarious laughter from the technicians.

“It is not blood,” the Asset told him, “but it is still a malfunction.”

This sobered the technician a little, and he nodded tightly.

“Yes. It is. But we will fix you.”

I’ll Always Be Blamed For The Sun Going Down | 9907 words | Part 3 of Forever Is A Close And Honest Friend

He knows he’s in the right place. He has heard the guys at the docks laugh and joke about the queers who come out after dark, looking to earn a little extra cash. He has seen the johns, when he’s been out late enough, skulking in the shadows like predators hunting for their next meal, looking for something in particular. Sometimes they look at him.

A small, rusty pen knife that his father had picked up in Europe during the Great War sits heavy in the breast pocket of his jacket. Just in case.

Book Of The Moon | 16019 words | Part 4 of Forever Is A Close And Honest Friend

In 1929, Bucky Barnes falls in love for the first time and resigns himself to never telling a soul, let alone Steve, the object of his affections. In 1943, half a world away from the man he can never have and fighting for his life and his sanity, something new begins to bloom.

Habeas Corpus | 18054 words

An unexpected incident in the field leaves Steve Rogers facing the infiltration of a Hydra base and retrieval of important intelligence, all while pretending to be the Winter Soldier. Unfortunately, there are important aspects of the Soldier's past that Bucky hasn't disclosed, and Steve has no idea what he's really walking into.

Bullies | 14979 words

Written for the MCU trash meme prompt:

I wanna see Steve being messed with by his secretly-HYDRA coworker buddies. I want them generally fucking with him, "accidentally" doing terrible things to him or getting Steve into awful situations, telling jokes that aren't really jokes, gaslighting, performing sexual-assault hazing under the guise that "that's what people do now," pressuring him into other sex shit, anything, just fuck Steve up.

Steve isn't failing to fully catch on because he's dumb or oblivious: it's just that he is Steve, so he wants to believe the best of everybody, and he doesn't want to believe that he could be working for/with bullies and that (as Natasha says) he essentially died for nothing.

Not Unwanted, Not Unloved | 50320 words

They'd resigned themselves to never becoming parents - until Bucky gets pregnant and drops off the grid without even a whisper to his mate about his condition. Steve will still raze the earth to find him, but that doesn't mean he likes what he finds.

The Tones That Tremble Down Your Spine | 13889 words

Tony tells him they’re planning a party for Steve’s birthday. He knows how parties are supposed to go.

Lacuna | 62875 words

The Winter Soldier doesn't remember Steve Rogers, but he needs Rogers' help.

OR: The one where Bucky doesn't remember Steve, but falls in love with him anyway.

Not A Perfect Soldier | 93354 words

In a world where HYDRA was wiped out in the '40s, Steve is found by the Army rather than SHIELD. General Thaddeus Ross wants a perfectly obedient super-soldier at his command, and to that end, he sets out to break Steve to his will. As Steve struggles to come to terms with all he has lost, his life in captivity is only made bearable by the presence of another prisoner-- another super-soldier known only as "Soldat". Then the Avengers strike a deal with Ross to "borrow" him for missions, and Steve is faced with a team who dislikes him, an organization he doesn't trust, and the question of what he's willing to do to escape Ross's clutches.

For Want Of Him | 103174 words

It's the twenty-first century, and Steve Rogers has never been more alone. Everything he knew, everyone he loved, is now gone, and a dark, bitter loneliness claws at him, raking bleeding gashes into his heart. And then there's Brock Rumlow. Rumlow is like salt in his wounds; vicious, and cruel. But his dark brown hair and teasing smirk reminds Steve of someone long dead, and his New York accent sounds like home...He's a soldier like him...he understands. And Steve makes the fatal mistake of trusting him.

The Same Measure | 4943 words

The Winter Soldier was never allowed to stop unless an injury was too grievous.

To Be Unmade | 5114 words | Part 1 of Alexander Pierce Should Have Died Slower

For the asset, things only ever get worse. The external scars fade quickly enough. The internal ones dig deeper and deeper.

But the internal scars are called love, and doesn't that make them worth the hurt?

Do Not Put In The Icebox | 7143 words | Part 2 of Alexander Pierce Should Have Died Slower

When the asset malfunctions on a mission, Rumlow and Rollins learn more than they ever wanted to know about Pierce's hobbies.

And then everyone has pancakes.

The Knowing Makes It Worse | 4130 words | Part 3 of Alexander Pierce Should Have Died Slower

No is a bad word and invites punishment.

Or, Alexander Pierce is a very bad man who delights in manipulating and degrading the asset.

Love Is For Children | 5303 words | Part 4 of Alexander Pierce Should Have Died Slower

Bucky understands how the game works. He can't understand why it makes Steve cry.

But Natasha and the other Avengers are there to help.

I Just Wanted To Be Sure Of You | 4461 words | Part 5 of Alexander Pierce Should Have Died Slower

Bucky has Bucky Bear; it's only fair for Natasha to have something of her own.

Visiting a toy store wasn't strictly necessary, but if Tony wants to throw money around, no one's going to complain.

“Till The End Of The Line | 6069 words | Part 6 of Alexander Pierce Should Have Died Slower

It's hard to take a friendship right back up when so much has changed over seventy years.

Particularly when HYDRA's conditioning resurfaces.

*if you feel that any of these fics shouldn’t be in this list please just send me a message! :) I have read them all but over the past 1+ years so some of them I might not remember all the details of :)

[dadsbongos]

Alright, so, I'm well aware that the antag series revolves around her and Hajime, but I kinda wanna know more about her relationship with Nagito, Mikan, and Kazuichi during the tragedy and after the neo world program

I'm really hooked to this series, but can you blame me lmao-

i can’t blame you nonny, antag reader series is literally all i think about anymore, literal brain rot. this is basically just like?? a character analysis essay type thing? i’m so sorry it’s so long, i just got soooo into it

Request for: antag reader (Mikan Tsumiki, Kazuichi Souda, Nagito Komaeda) Warnings: despair things, face swap mention, spoilers, manipulation and bad friending :( ~~~

Mikan Tsumiki (and like a pinch of Junko Enoshima):

The Tragedy: So basically the whole thing with (Y/n) is that her parents were just so overcritical to the point where it rooted her complex and felt like they never loved her, right? So basically, Junko was able to attack that by showing her the bare minimum affection and introducing Mikan into the mix, who was in a similar boat with being unloved. Junko made them both feel as though she was the best love they could ever have and then made them compete for it at any opportunity she could.

Mikan always loved Junko but she doesn’t love (Y/n) the same way and vice versa, despite that, they do both care for each other very deeply. They desire no relationship in each other and even view each other as rivals who happen to find somewhat of a friendship together. Mikan thinks, and always has, that (Y/n) is much more talented and worthy of Junko than she is. However, (Y/n), being deeply insecure far below the surface - never stopped thinking that Mikan was more beautiful and worthy of Junko than she was.

They find both comfort and hatred in each other due to Junko making them act as competition. They both know the pain of Junko’s rejection but they also both know that if the other was out of the way, they could have Junko all to themselves.

When (Y/n) found out Mikan took Junko’s womb, it was a betrayal due to the fact that she didn’t know beforehand, Mikan had never said anything about taking Junko’s uterus. And on top of that, she found out that Mikan had tried conceiving a despair child during their separation. Even though neither of them loves each other, they know their relationship can be viewed as lovers - they often view it as such themselves - and so, (Y/n) felt as though Mikan had cheated on her. She basically had. Even so, she still knows that nothing could make her hate Mikan, she doesn’t love her as she did Junko, but she loves her more than any other woman she’d ever known. Mikan is the only grounding she’s ever known and the only person to ever relate to her on such an intimate level.

Going back to the feeling of Mikan being prettier than her, (Y/n) stole Junko’s face entirely because of that feeling of inferiority. She never told Mikan because she was ashamed to admit that she was insecure, it would make her imperfect to be insecure.

Overall, she’s never loved Mikan as a girlfriend but they’ve always been all the other had during The Tragedy despite their ‘rivalry’ and insecurities surrounding the other.

After Neoworld: (Y/n) is definitely nervous to be around Mikan because of their history with each other and Junko. Before Mikan wakes up from the program she’s constantly worried about if the nurse will hate her or be disgusted by her. The way Mikan had treated her right before her execution hinted at some tenderness buried beneath discontent, but that could always change. When Mikan wakes up she immediately looks for (Y/n) on pure instinct.

They definitely try to help each other heal and cope with Junko’s manipulation and lies. They both have come to realize that Junko never loved either of them and they didn’t love each other - any of the comforts they had gathered in The Tragedy was a lie and they help each other through that realization.

“You’re more than what she made you.” is a common phrase between them because they know she only made them compete for her own entertainment and their despair.

It was cruel and they have to live with every emotional and physical scar from that time. But they still have each other.

Any sense of rivalry has dripped away from their bond and is now wholly intertwined by genuine friendship and connection. By their experiences and how they’re growing away from Junko and into themselves. Eventually, all their conversations stop being about Junko and healing and start being about a pretty shell Mikan found on the beach. Or how the water looks so inviting, they should go for a swim.

Or how the chairs need repainting.

Or how some flowers outside the front door would be lovely.

Or how good breakfast was this morning.

Kazuichi Souda:

The Tragedy: Kazuichi wasn’t as “enamored” with (Y/n) as he was Sonia, but he respected her Ultimate and higher intelligence enough to also refer to her as ‘miss’ when they went to school. Though he largely stopped calling her ‘Miss (Y/n)’ during The Tragedy he still respects her a lot and is even a little scared of her sometimes. Again, she’s way smarter than he is - she’s not a super genius like Izuru but she’s a smart cookie and he’s not so delusional to think he’s near her in intellect. So the fact she can copy his Ultimate status and be smarter than most people in their class is quite intimidating for him at times.

Because of the confidence she projects and her charisma and, again, higher intelligence than his, he often follows her word and example without much thought. Like if he saw her jump off a cliff, he would probably go along with it because he knows she probably has some plan to get out of the situation safely.

(Y/n) views Kazuichi sort of as a little brother - but one that follows you around like a puppy and always bugs you. She doesn’t expect much other than blind support from him and kind of accepts that he’s her “sidekick” so to speak. They didn’t view each other as equals or even true comrades - (Y/n) was always just better and that went unquestioned. She definitely used him to gain without putting much thought into the long-term of their relationship.

After Neoworld: Kazuichi had regained his memories in chunks as they left the program and at least could recall being so-called friends with (Y/n). When they awoke, they didn’t talk to each other that often since Kazuichi was extremely bitter about how she’d treated them all in the program (and him as a Remnant) and so she was left alone with Hajime.

It’s only as she actually begins healing and expressing more humane traits that he starts talking to her again. Neither apologizes for anything specific, they just aren’t those kinds of people and both parties can let it go easy enough - they’d both done horrific things and they know that. He invites her into his warehouse to take apart the Monokumas, he offers to go on walks along the beach with her - he finds it nice to be in her presence again.

Because even after what they’d been through, I feel like he does still deeply respect her due to her talent. He just also has gained more confidence in himself while in the program and therefore has more sense to not let her control his actions. Which, he finds that she hasn’t tried doing and that always encourages him to keep coming back.

Kazuichi thrives on positive feedback and (Y/n) knows this, so every time she can she’s expressing how much he means to her as a dear companion - both of them being hesitant to actually label themselves friends. Especially Kazuichi, who had already been hit by poor friendship and trust issues, remembering that (Y/n) used him during The Tragedy makes his brain go fuzzy on how he feels about her. Sometimes he’s angry and other times he forgives her wholeheartedly because he knows she’s sick and he wants her to be able to maintain the friendships that he’s able to.

I think it’s after she apologizes to everyone, pre-Nagito waking up but post Gundham and Nekomaru, that he really just lets go of everything.

It’s not easy to forget that he was just her tool but he knows that she’s better now and they start hanging out more often, by themselves, having a good ol’ time talking about absolute nonsense.

Respect turns into admiration.

Nagito Komaeda:

The Tragedy: So I’d already mentioned that (Y/n) influenced him into becoming Servant, but I wanna expand on that before digging into anything else. At heart, Nagito is a people pleaser to the Ultimates, and none more than the copycat who can master pretty much anything she wants. During their school years, she didn’t see anyone as her equal and that resonated with Nagito’s inferiority complex and while she hates people who have no confidence, she would hate to be like everyone else more. So she kinda just accepted the servitude that came with befriending Nagito on the first day of school up until The Tragedy where he practically begged her to take him with her wherever she went.

She was the first one to really hold onto his chain, both literally and metaphorically. He joined the Ultimate Despair with Junko to create a despair to overcome, but only (Y/n) was allowed to actually touch him - or else he started throwing a huge fit. 

In order to spread despair and crush Nagito’s everlasting obsession with hope, she probably intentionally ignores and neglects him when he needs her.

This largely means when he’s mourning/remembering his parents and dog or his illnesses or when he’s falling into despair and needs her to pull him out, she’s just watching and doing nothing.

In fact, when Nagito had brought up his plans to join the Warriors of Hope he was really hoping she’d speak against it, and she didn’t. She actually encouraged it. Pushing him to leave her alone and join the WOH. It hurt, of course, it would, but he left all the same and they hadn’t spoken since despite their ‘friendship’. (Y/n) never bothered going after him, again to crush his love of hope. 

She left him unhinged, alone, sick to fend for himself until he found the WOH, and even when he found them - she didn’t seem to care whether they let him live or killed him.

After Neoworld: Honestly? To say that she mourns Nagito, and her entire relationship with Nagito, is a huge fucking understatement. Especially as the others begin waking up and Hajime helps her grow, she just gets more and more depressed over her situation with Nagito. And as he takes longer and longer to wake up, she begins to accept that she was horrible to him and doesn’t deserve his forgiveness.

Before The Tragedy even, since they’d met. She always treated him with as little human respect as she could - she did it with everyone but especially him. He was basically just a little errand boy she liked to talk to and she didn’t treat him as more. During their time in despair, she was barely around for him, only holding him together when the others pushed her to do it because he was being annoying. She was so awful to the man she always claimed was her closest friend. And she wants him to hate her for it so bad.

Then he wakes up and he sees her and he smiles. He could never hate her and it only makes her feel worse.

Nagito sees how much she’s changed and he begins changing too, she tells him about how Hajime has helped her so much and he begins to follow her around with Hajime. She’s worried he’ll consider himself her lapdog again but it’s cleared up when he doesn’t run to her side one morning out of the few left before they leave.

In fact, it’s when he doesn’t speak to her for hours on end she realizes that every interaction they had was under his free will and choice. 

He doesn’t do her chores for her. She doesn’t watch him fall apart silently. They talk like friends do. Not about how talentless people are worthless or how hope is all that matters but about how they can’t wait to rebuild their favorite hangout spots and make better memories there together.

They sort of have an unannounced “restart” where they just wipe the slate clean, mostly on (Y/n)’s part so she can treat Nagito how he deserves. As a true friend rather than a pawn.

[join-the-joywrite]

So before I say goodbye, would you do one last thing for me?

And take, take her to the moon for me

Reggie thinks about crossing over . . . and then he does

read on ao3 here

you can all thank @thedeathdeelers for it because of this post. and also you should all go listen to the song based off bing bong's take her to the moon line

They were going to cross over. Soon. It wasn't going to be some great big show of sparks or jolts of pain. Reggie could tell it was going to be a quiet affair that took them away unexpectedly.

Reggie sat alone most nights, wondering what his unfinished business had been. The Orpheum, though only half a year ago, felt like several years. Stealing Willie's soul back from right under Caleb's nose was just a few weeks ago but it felt like months. On these lonely nights, Reggie mentally relived his afterlife, trying to pinpoint some milestone moment that could've been it. Other nights, he distracted himself playing softly with Alex and Luke, or tweaking songs with Luke, or pathetically failing to learn skating with Willie. Or sometimes he would wander around the house and just do small things here and there.

Once, he did Carlos' forgotten math homework for him. Julie had scolded him about cheating with Carlos, but that had only been for a second before she relayed how grateful Carlos was and how much he wished he could see Reggie and say it himself.

Part of Reggie wanted to voice his thoughts about crossing over. Another part of him hoped that if he didn't talk about it, it wouldn't be real.

And then, one day, Willie vanished. As expected and understandably so, Alex was inconsolable. Reggie made the mistake of offhandedly commenting that it wasn't so bad. Maybe they'd meet up again after they crossed over. It wasn't much longer, now.

Alex was furious first. How could Reggie say that it wasn't so bad? Alex was confused after that. What did Reggie mean with all that? Alex was concerned in the end. Did Reggie really think they were going to cross over?

It was a nice thought, Alex would later tell Reggie. That they could be together when they crossed over and that he would see Willie again. But that wasn't going to happen for a long time. Luke agreed. They were going to take Julie to stardom before they ever considered leaving.

Reggie thought about Julie almost every minute of the day. He figured they would be okay with whatever happened after they crossed over. What would happen to Julie? Would it take her long to figure out what happened? Would their absence turn her away from music again?

That thought alone had bothered Reggie so much that even Carlos noticed. Things were messy around the house. His computer was open on Spotify and the music was blasting into his headphones. No one was beating his messy room for him anymore. Luke decided to talk to Reggie. It all came out in a rush, how he was so afraid that when they crossed over, it would tear Julie apart. After he'd sat with Reggie and listened to everything bottled up, Luke promised to talk to Julie seriously -- and that serious talk happened to be today.

Reggie, who had been laying on the floor while all these thoughts bounced around in his head, sat up suddenly.

The studio was silent.

"Alex?"

Denial set in very quickly. Not now. He wasn't ready yet. He'd known it was coming for at least one month but he was far from prepared.

Alex had to be around somewhere, right? Reggie suddenly realised he was just hoping for a sign of where Alex was moments before he accidentally stepped onto Alex's drumsticks and landed on his back.

The drumsticks rolled across the floor, coming to a slow stop at the wheel of Willie's skateboard.

Sometimes my mom sends me signs, Julie had said once, and sometimes I don't get it until much later but sometimes it's just so clear what she's trying to tell me.

Reggie stared at the drumsticks and the skateboard. Couldn't get much clearer than that.

Suddenly, Reggie was struck with the horrifying thought that Luke had vanished mid-conversation with Julie.

Not thinking before he leapt, Reggie poofed into Julie's room.

"You're not allowed to do that," Julie said casually. "You know that."

"Sorry. Uh, do you know where Luke is?"

Julie shook her head. "He just left a few minutes ago. Said something about wanting to get some lyrics out of his head. Isn't he in the studio?"

Reggie lied very easily and believably. "Oh, I was just downstairs. I haven't checked the studio yet 'cause I thought I heard you talking to someone up here."

Reggie didn't know why he was lying to Julie. He didn't know what was worse. Telling her the truth or wishing he had later.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he said with a chipper smile.

"Do you want a hug?"

Okay, so maybe he couldn't always lie well about everything. Reggie's nod was hesitant before it was quick.

Julie hopped off her bed and hung her arms loosely around Reggie. She let out a surprised yelp when Reggie wrapped his arms tightly around Julie.

"Someone's competing with Alex for best hug-giver."

Normally, Reggie would've laughed at that. But Alex was gone. Luke probably was too. Reggie would be gone soon too. He had to leave Julie's room. It would break her if she had to see it happen.

"Thanks, Julie."

Julie smiled brightly when Reggie pulled away. "Anytime. My hugs are free for all."

"You should get some sleep. W-we'll see you in the morning."

Why was he lying to her? He knew he'd be gone before she even fell asleep.

Maybe, if she thought they crossed over in the peace and quiet of the still night, she would feel better. Maybe, if she thought they crossed over while she slept, she would blame them for not waking her, not herself for not noticing.

"Fine. But not because you said to." Julie slid under her duvet and grinned at Reggie. She was mid-yawn before she realised. "I'll see you guys in the morning. Tell Alex and Luke I said good night."

"I will," Reggie said. And if he did happen to meet Alex and Luke, he would without a doubt deliver Julie's message. "I love you. We love you."

"Aww. I love you too, Reg."

Reggie left before he did or said something that would make Julie worry.

He meant to land in the studio. Instead, he found himself in the kitchen, his legs numb and a hollow emptiness in his chest.

"Reggie?"

Reggie looked up to see Carlos, backlit by the open fridge. "You should be in bed."

"You should be invisible."

"Uh . . . that's true."

Carlos kicked the fridge closed as he walked over to Reggie, quietly setting his glass on the island counter. "Are you okay? You look a bit sick. Can ghosts get sick? Is that a thing? Are there ghost doctors? Are they, like, special ghost doctors or just doctors that died?"

"That's too many questions at once, little man."

Carlos frowned. Reggie always answered every single question on the odd occasion that he could see and hear Reggie -- or even if Reggie was just chatting to him with Julie's phone. "Are you okay?" Carlos asked again, this time more serious and somehow even quieter than before.

"I will be." Another lie. He didn't know. But that didn't matter. What mattered was that Julie and Carlos didn't worry.

"What's wrong?"

Reggie wished he could hug Carlos like he had hugged Julie just a few minutes ago. "I, uh . . . I gotta go."

"Oh. Where are you going? You're gonna be back, though, right?"

"I don't know." The first truth Reggie had spoken all night. "But I won't come back."

"Wh-- . . . oh." Carlos glanced down at the floor.

"Hey," Reggie said, crouching down. Carlos was looking down at him now. "You're gonna be okay."

"But what about you? Are you gonna be okay?"

Reggie shrugged. "I hope so. Maybe I'll see you again when you're all old and wrinkly."

"Ha ha." Carlos' tone was sarcastic, but his smile was genuine. His eyes widened and a gasp caught in his throat when Reggie wiped away the tears he didn't even notice. Without stopping to question it, Carlos threw his arms around Reggie's shoulders and held tight. "Do you have to go?"

The fragility of Carlos' croaked question set alight a small but agonizing flame in Reggie's chest. "I have to," he murmured, holding Carlos gently. "Alex and Luke are probably waiting for me."

"I don't want you to go."

"I know."

Reggie's entire body, save for the burning yet soothing sparks in his chest, felt numb. He had to glance over Carlos' shoulder to make sure he still had his arms. He moved to pull back so he could leave -- Carlos didn't have to see whatever crossing over looked like -- but Carlos wouldn't let go.

Reggie figured he would've been able to break out of Carlos' hold on a normal day. But today wasn't normal, was it?

"I have to go," Reggie said.

Carlos pretended he didn't hear it. "You're the best brother in the world."

Finally, Carlos let Reggie move back, but Reggie didn't stand or poof out. Instead, he gave Carlos a smile and wiped Carlos' wet cheeks. "Nah. You are. You're gonna look after Julie for us, aren't you?"

Carlos nodded. He refused to acknowledge the fact that he could see through Reggie. He was just tired and needed to go to bed, right?

"Julie belongs with the stars," Reggie said. "Take her to the moon for me, okay?"

"I'll try," Carlos told the empty kitchen. "I promise."

And then he wrapped his arms around himself and sat down on the floor as his small shoulders shook silently.

[blairwaldcrf]

my boyfriend's girlfriend- gossip girl

Summary: nate/dan/blair drabbles

i will always blame (with love) @bisexualdanhumphrey for my recent agenda

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read and comment here

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When Nate is asked if he's had his first kiss at 8 years old, his father steps in and lies. Of course, haven't you seen him and Blair?  

In actuality Howard Archibald had caught Nate "practicing" kissing with Chuck in the toy room just a week ago. It was Chuck that had given the easy lie about it that way, and Nate didn’t understand why, but pretending they're practicing for girls makes his father happy so he doesn't disagree.

I'm just playing a pretend father and practicing for future girls, Nate tells the people who ask why he spends so much  time with Dan Humphrey and his new baby. After all, he doesn't want to come out as bisexual when he and Dan are only barely finding a new rhythm as they move from friends, to lovers, to roommates, and by extension of that and Milo, co-parents… This, smiling as he watches Dan cave into sleep while still in the middle of holding up and giving Milo his bottle, deserves more than another snarky Gossip Girl scandal post.

….

At first glance after having kissed Dan, he had thought he was going to resent Milo. Surely now that Dan had a child, Nate's timing was off and Dan would give him a sad "sorry, but..." He starts to until the second Milo cries for a bottle but Dan can't quite make it one handedly in the wake of Georgina's very recent departure and so Nate is handed the baby once again.

He fumbles for the words to tell Dan to wait, he'll make the bottle, he's bad with kids-- but then Milo stops crying the second Nate turns him around and offers a panicked smile.

Dan backs out of the kitchen immediately. "Do that again."

"What, smile?" Nate asked incredulously.

"Whatever you just did," Dan repeats so desperately it's almost comical.

So he does it again, and when Milo gives the sweetest laugh only a baby can give, Nate's heart melts.

Finally , he thinks to himself before he can review the implications later that night before falling asleep. Finally something meaningful I'm good at . Dan is ecstatic that the cure to Milo's colic seems to be Nate comforting his son (if not only for sleep) and Milo is the child who depends on Nate's smile in such an innocent way. How had his mother and family expected him to use a fake smile for cameras and politics when the only one who truly cared about the way his lips curled could be cradled in two arms?

The first time he picks Milo up correctly on instinct he feels like he's five again, showing off to his mother that he can ride without training wheels. "Dan. Dan! Look!"

Said brunette gave him a quizzical look at first, in the middle of folding laundry, but then laughs freely upon realizing. "Finally."

Milo coos at the sound laughter like always, and Nate's smile grows even further.

….

When Dan & Blair first accidentally meet at some film showing at the forum that Nate was more than happy to babysit Milo for than attend, Nate hears all night about how Blair's opinions on the entire movie are either spot on or completely ridiculous. The volley back and forth as Dan describes them to him in turn, "I don't get how she can agree with that when…", "Can you believe she…" makes him raise an eyebrow, but he lets the passionate rant subside and instead orders dinner. Something light for the summer. More movies are seen, sometimes with Nate attending as well when Rufus can babysit. Blair insists on sitting in the very middle of the seating so she can be dead straight to the screen, and then steals Nate or Dan’s popcorn even when they try to get her one of her own. Summer turns out better than expected like this.

Then Dan complains about Blair almost every night the first week of interning at W Magazine, and Nate has to remind him repeatedly that they're friends now. Dan needs the opportunity to intern so he'll have a passing job soon to afford Milo, though, so the pleas go unheard. When Nate bothers to drop in on Blair and ask her to create some peace treaty, it’s useless. Dan pulls a Blair and Blair pulls a Dan, but in the end it’s clear that their budding friendship is heading into better territory than it ever had been.

It's a long year of Dan & Nate trying desperately to avoid the schemes of their friends, taking in turns who had to babysit Milo. By the end of spring, Blair is engaged to a prince and Nate almost feels relieved. He'd never say so to Dan.

The engagement doesn't last anyway. Blair is pregnant and scared, and by the end of the month when Blair finds out that the baby is Chuck’s, she moves into the Brooklyn loft and away from the Upper East Side at Dan’s request. Nate can’t get the image of a broken window and Blair fleeing after the attack at the penthouse out of his mind.

….

“Are we sure murder isn’t on the table?” Dan asks angrily, staring down at the computer Jenny is working on beside Blair. The two women’s apologies and forgiveness had been strained and their being in the same room without killing each other was tenuous, but in the end they were both victims of Chuck and that bonded them more than split them up when all was brought to light.

That, and Dan refused to let Blair continue to hide in the Brooklyn loft without a full confrontation about Jenny.

“Dan.” Nate chastises, head pointing to Blair. With a small sigh, he apologizes, but he doesn’t look any less moody. There had never been good blood between Dan and Chuck, for good reason, but now that he had found out that Chuck had yet again assaulted someone, and  Blair at that, he was vengeful. Luckily, Dan wasn’t the kind to hire a hitman.

He was the type to request help with a takedown from Jenny, though, the second Chuck tried to go after Blair legally over a child that’s not even born.

Milo seems to be the one who wins over Jenny for the takedown, because when the blonde looks over at Blair and her swollen stomach and sorrowful face, she cracks. “I can file charges against him, but we have to do this together, Blair. I’m serious.”

“I am too.” Blair says, tears in her eyes as she holds her belly tight. “I have to be.”

Jenny nods. They speak to the lawyers and detectives in secret. Even Serena adds to the charges, an unknown attempt until the chefs at the hotel back her up as witnesses. Nate has to hold Dan back, remind him that he could lose Milo to Georgina if he does something stupid, but Nate has to admit he wants to punch Chuck bloody himself after reading the full testimonies from the women he was closest to.

He had known Chuck was a mess. He hadn’t realized how many messes he had made, and for that Nate hated himself. Surely he could have stopped some of these. He should have held his once best friend accountable so much earlier, could have thrown away some childhood crush. Nate is complicit in ways he thinks Dan should hate him for. Dan only shakes his head and mentions that he was the one who told Jenny not to press charges against the kid of a millionaire who would get off in seconds when they were all so young. Nate pretends he isn’t crying later that night and Dan does the same.

When Chuck is put into prison, Nate isn’t naive enough to breathe in relief, but he gets close.

….

"It's poetic." Blair is smiling softly at him in a way she hasn't since they were young and she thought he could save her from their parents. "You being so good with him."

Nate raises an eyebrow as he rockets Milo, but he thinks he knows what she means, and after all these years of knowing her, he's right.

"After everything your father put you through… you just shine at being one despite him." Blair offered. "Humphrey had love and a mother who couldn't hire nannies, he was born for this. But you…" She trails off after waving a hand at all of him and the way Milo is sleeping so softly on his chest.

"Thanks, Blair." He tells her, hoping his voice sounds even.

Dan has said as much to him, as had Rufus, Jenny who was back in the city to be a happy aunt, and Lily. The compliments from those three were lovely and meant the world, but they didn't carry the same weight that Blair's did.

Blair, who had been there in the lows of his father's then secret drug addiction and seen the way "The Captain" yelled at Nate in emotional tirades. She'd seen the aftermath of physical confrontations, however subtle. A bruised wrist from being dragged out of a room or a bruised arm from being hit when found smoking weed. Blair, who had all the love of an Upper East Side father and the crashing realization when that wasn't enough.

Biting his lip, because if he lets the worried sigh drag out of him he might wake up Milo, he says, "I still have 18 years and more to mess up with a kid of my own."

"You won't," she says, without the kind tone that Dan had used when saying the same thing. This was bossy, hard, certain. "You'll refuse to as much as I'll refuse to let you. We promised that, remember?"

And they had, once, on the tail end of fourteen when Serena's father had left again, Blair had been throwing up food for what would then be the first time, and Nate tired from having stayed up all night comforting his mother Anne. We'll never be them. We'll warn each other the second we have to.

But who had thought they would need a warning before their thirties had even begun?

"Yeah. I remember."

She gives him another quick smile, one to hide what was now pain and worry coming up as she stared down at her unborn child.

"You won't be your mother either, Blair," he tells her. Trying to get her to smile, he added, "Eleanor would never do something like step in Brooklyn."

"I don't know," she says, her lips curling mischievously for a second. "I'm also not living with straight men."

He laughs and so does she, and they keep the worry about Chuck wrapped away.

…

"Will you stop leaving the shower like that?" Dan snaps at Blair one of the mornings that Nate has slept over (more and more living here like a step-parent, but that was a different conversation). "How many times do we have to tell you we aren't gay and it is inappropriate."

"I thought you said you wanted me to be comfortable here, Humphrey." Blair replies with an all too silky tone. Nate rolls his eyes at them from the comfortable pillow for not the first time and gets out of bed to stop the impending fight that will likely wake Milo up, right as Blair adds, "If it makes you uncomfortable maybe that's a problem for you and Nate, not me."

"Blair, I swear to God--,"

"Dan. Chill." Nate interrupts. They both turn to see him in the doorway, Dan looking chastised and a rather naked Blair failing at looking guilty. "And Blair, come on. You know what you're doing. Either stop or be honest."

The fake sheepish expression on her face gives way to pursed lips and a dainty glare. "I don't know what you're talking about. Regardless, I'm late to classes. See you both later." And she leaves the living room to get dressed with Dan glaring fiercely at her back and Nate wanting to throw a pillow at him.

Mumbling something about checking on Milo, Dan leaves the room also and Nate wonders how on earth he can force the two to sit down and talk without one of them bolting. How on earth did Serena put up with them?

….

He manages to pin Blair down first, which quite possibly was a miracle with how desperately she had been avoiding him. They’re both at a party Dan hadn’t wanted to attend and he catches her in a side room where she had run away from Serena. Nate wasn’t quite sure what their drama was, but he didn’t care to ask.

“Blair, we need to talk.”

“Now?” she asks, pouting. She’s sitting on a chair and rubbing her ankles, looking very much pregnant. “Can’t it wait when I’m at home and out of these heels? My feet are absolutely disgusting right now.”

“Now,” he reaffirms. “Admit you’re attracted to Dan and not just trying to find someone safe like I’m sure you’ve convinced yourself is all you’re doing.”

Her entire demeanor changes immediately. “Excuse me?”

“You heard what I said.” Nate says. “Dropping towels, leaving out lingerie, your usual scheming.”

“Dan loves you,” she says softly in return, shaking her head. “I’m just a pregnant single mother in my twenties who wants to feel sexy.”

…

One night, in the chaos of their soap-opera worthy lives, Nate comes home to the loft-- which is such a weird thing to think of as his home-- and sees Dan and Blair perfectly cuddling against each other on the couch asleep. There’s something innocent about it, tissue box near as if Blair had been crying, but both of them had little time to rest between Milo and Blair’s complaints that sleeping with a pregnant belly was impossible at third trimester. Nate doesn’t want to think on the feelings rising up in him at this sight-- there’s too much to even find a place to start-- so he thinks of how they’d react to seeing themselves so vulnerable with each other. Likely Nate will have a wholesome picture that he can pretend is only blackmail and not, in fact, a picture of his entire world with only one baby missing.

Snapping the picture with flash on wakes the two up, but is completely worth it as they groggily catch sight of him and jump apart from each other.

“ Nathaniel Fitzwilliam Archibald ,” Blair angrily snaps, “Delete that now .”

Dan starts laughing and Blair turns on him. “You want that leaked to Gossip Girl?”

“Nate has never sent in a thing.” Dan replies, chuckling in between his response. “I’m just amused you went full on Waldorf mother mode.”

Blair’s glare is fantastic as she gasps, causing Nate to laugh even harder.

“I did not .”

“I’m sorry, did you or did you not just use his full name?” Dan laughs, an eyebrow raised. His challenge seems to make her furious, so very temperamental lately.

“It was an instinct brought on by the delirium of waking up next to you,” she argues huffily, and Dan rolls his eyes in a way that makes Nate crack.

“God, just kiss.”

All three of them still. Nothing can be heard except for the classical music coming from the nursery in the other room. Nate tries to berate himself when he sees Dan’s face fall into guilt and hurt. Nate tries to make up for it. “I didn’t mean it like that, I love you--,” worst time to admit it “--but you clearly love Blair too.”

“I--,” Dan falters, caught blank at the attention. “Nate, that’s not what’s going on. I love you--,”

“I know.” Nate replies, all too aware of how Blair looks ready to run.

Dan is still fumbling, turning to Blair with a lost expression that turns firm as he says, “Look, you deserve someone whose sole attention is you, Blair. I don’t fit that. I don’t want you to feel like you’re in some position that your mother--,”

“Humphrey, shut up,” Blair demands. “I get to decide what I deserve and want, no one else. You should have learned that by now. You too, Nate.”

Which he should have, of course, because now Blair is sitting up straight and in command of the entire room like she’s the royalty she almost became. Nate nods and wonders what the hell Blair was going to say now.

“I’ll admit that I have been incredibly blessed to have both of you in my life, but I am not going to come between--,”

“You won’t,” Nate announces. “If you want this, all of this, you won’t be in between anything.”

Staring straight at him, there’s a searching expression in Dan’s narrowed brown eyes and furrowed brow. Nate knows he can spot appreciation and relief, but he also knows that the writer will definitely overthink this for the next month or so. Still, when Blair hesitantly looks to Dan, the brunette nods.

Nate is glad the classical music covers the sounds the happy three of them make that night.

…..

[chestnut-b]

Himawari - Chapter 2

“Why are you here, Umino Iruka?”

Chapter 2 of a Kimetsu no Yaiba-verse AU

A blood-red moon hung ominously in the sky, and all around him, the screams of the dying.   

In this chaos, all he could hear were his own panicked, ragged breaths, like thunder in his ears.   

He looked up and saw his mother’s face.  Relief, even through the curtain of red that streaked it. Pain stained her voice as she asked if he was alright. He had her in his arms, but the hands bracing her torn back were slippery with blood.  

Just beyond, his father stood between them and the massive form tearing through everything in its reach. He too, was breathing heavily, blood pooling at his feet. The ground was littered with broken bodies and snapped blades, and the air smelled of iron and burning flesh.  

“Father, Mother’s-!”

“Be quiet! Somebody get him out of here NOW!”  

He’d witnessed this scene too many times. He knew by heart what would happen next.

Somebody ripped him from his mother’s arms. There was one last whisper of his name. Despite his desperate screams and struggles, their figures receded into the distance, eventually fading into the darkness.

He expected something here. Something that felt like release, but it didn’t come. 

Instead, his body hit the floor hard. After a struggle he finally managed to pry his eyes open, only to find himself utterly alone in a misty forest clearing, illuminated an eerie red.

But he wasn’t alone for long.  

The silence was broken by a soft hiss in the distance behind him, together with the sound of shifting branches and leaves. His body seized; he knew he has to run, but his body wouldn’t obey. Prone on his side, all he could do was wait for whatever was coming.

He was going to be consumed, he knew it. The sounds only got louder, and soon it was not the sound of breaking branches he heard, but the crunching of bones and the felling of trees.   

It was death, fast approaching, but he would be damned if he didn’t meet it face on.

With every ounce of strength he could summon, he twisted his body around.  

 The first thing he saw; a set of fangs, dripping red with a wetness that reflected the moonlight.

 The last thing he registered was the inside of a gaping maw, opening wide, preparing for its decent upon him.

 This time, his own scream was the only thing that rang into the night.

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

Iruka’s eyes snapped open.

 His chest burned with the need for air.

 He would have cried out, but his training forbade him.

 Just an arm away, a child sprawled out in a smaller futon finished a satisfied yawn.

 Naruto.  

 Naruto.

 It’s just Naruto.

 It took more than a few deep breaths to suppress the burning in his throat.

 There was a slight draft from a gap in the window, but it felt like a wave of bitter cold. He was drenched in sweat and found some relief in the sensation, but a new wave of warmth soon trickled down his cheek.

 He reached out and brought the futon cover back up, just under Naruto’s chin. The child smiled contently and burrowed back into his bed. His breathing soon took on a relaxed, quiet rhythm.

 The eyes that had been fixed on the child’s sleeping form shifted their focus to the door behind him, but only for a moment before he turned carefully to lie on his back.

 He allowed his eyes to flutter shut, but didn’t let himself fall back to much-needed sleep. Concentrating on his own breathing, Iruka allowed the sounds of the surrounding wilderness to take over his senses.

Dawn would come soon enough.

 -----------------------------------

 It had been two weeks since the start of his post at the school, and Kakashi had been performing his duty as diligently as a person who was bored out of his mind could.

 Sitting in his new favourite spot in the trees overlooking the grounds, he observed the going-ons below. The young inhabitants stood engrossed in the demonstration happening before them. Gripping a wooden sword, Iruka moved with a practiced grace, one form to the next. Concise and age appropriate, Kakashi thought, but Naruto and the boy named Lee (who reminded him disturbingly of Gai) were squirming excitedly and looking especially starry-eyed.

Naruto...Well, Jiraiya and Iruka were right about one thing at least. As the 7 year old boy that he was, Naruto had an exceedingly unsurprising disposition. He hadn’t shown any inkling of the demon that slept within, thanks in large part to his age and the fact that he’d been raised, like many of the peasant orphans here, without knowledge or endowment of a family name.

 But unlike the Uzumaki clan members Kakashi were aware of, there were aspects of the boy that were undeniably unique. He remembered the handful of times he’d ever crossed paths with a clan member in the field. Her name was Kushina; her skin, pale from the lack of sun, and her hair, red like a river of fire, with a personality to match. Even as unexperienced as he was, he’d known Minato-sensei had been smitten the night he laid eyes on her.

 But therein lied the crux of the matter. Kakashi had ever only seen her at night, as had Minato, in their subsequent rendezvous.

 Yet here stood their flesh and blood, standing unperturbed in the heat of day as if he belonged no where else.

 The implications of this were as concerning as they were intriguing.

He watched the students below him take their places and begin their practice. Unsurprisingly, Naruto started off by swinging his sword wildly, earning him a good knock to the head from an exasperated Iruka.

Well, he certainly wasn’t receiving any special treatment in this aspect of his upbringing at least, Kakashi thought, relieved.

The only exception he knew the boy had been granted was sharing Iruka’s private quarters at night, instead of sleeping in the larger common rooms together with the rest of the children. There was also the matter of the seal that he knew covered the boy’s belly. Kakashi had been briefed upon his arrival; both had explained away by the child having some kind of medical condition that needed monitoring.

Kakashi paused in his musings when he felt something akin to a gentle wave pass over him.

 Well, this was a surprise.

 He raised a hand and wriggled his fingers.

 The young teacher below had his face at a slight angle, but his gaze was unmistakably directed straight at him.

 He’d been careful too, Kakashi smiled, amused.

 With a cheeky smirk that went almost unnoticed, Iruka returned to observing his class. Soon, he moved to correct the form of a pink-haired girl, Sakura, was it? Honestly, Kakashi couldn’t blame her. Anyone would have been distracted if they’d been placed behind Lee, who in his efforts to impress her, was practicing his swings with an unearthly enthusiasm that once again reminded him a bit too much of Gai. Another possible candidate for the Maito household, perhaps.

 Kakashi let his thoughts to drift to the aforementioned sensei, and a night that had left him with more questions than answers. 

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

He’d been offered a room just across the courtyard from Iruka and Naruto’s quarters.

Having finished his training outside the school, Kakashi was just about to pass their room when he’d felt it. The distinct atmosphere of distress. He stilled his breathing and reached out with his senses, scanning for danger or the trace of demons in the surrounding area and found nothing. But, there was a sliver of a gap in the doors just ahead, and soon his one good eye was peering into it.

There was just enough moonlight shining through the paper doors to make out the outlines of two.

Naruto was sprawled atop his futon without a care in the world, snoring softly. His yukata was a bit of a mess, and Kakashi spied the bandages that were wrapped around his waist. He had a goofy grin on his face that was occasionally broken by the occasional sniffle from his exposure to the cool summer air.

 Kakashi’s gaze shifted to the larger figure beside him. It didn’t take long to figure out the source of the distress. He lay still under the covers of his futon, but the young guardian’s pale face was a picture of suffering; painted with sweat and pained lines. Any slayer who wanted to stay alive on the field at night learned to sleep quietly, and Iruka was obviously no exception, but his eyes shifted wildly under his eyelids and his expression was so strained, Kakashi had almost been tempted to wake him from whatever it was that tortured him. 

“Father...Mother...”   

It was really only the barest of whispers.

Kakashi’s gaze softened. Trauma lurked in the shadow of every slayer, and Iruka’s came in the form of a crazed fox, and by extension, the boy who slept just an arm away.

Why are you here, Umino Iruka?  

Moments later, Iruka’s body seized, not unlike what he’d witnessed when they first had tea. Just after Kakashi had decided to intervene, Naruto had yawned, causing Iruka’s eyes to snap open. Kakashi stepped back and away from the gap in the door. In the following minutes he heard pained breaths, the sounds of shifting cloth, and then a satisfied sigh.

 Peace had returned, if only for another night.

 Satisfied there was nothing left to do, Kakashi silently stepped out into the courtyard and returned to his room. 

Sleep did not come easy that night.

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

It was Naruto’s pained yelp that brought him back to the present. The boy had just received a fresh knock to the head. Iruka had been its deliverer, but even behind his admonishment was an obvious fondness. Considering everything he’d seen, Kakashi couldn’t help but feel slightly unnerved. His instincts told him he was missing something here; he just didn’t have a clue what it was.

He continued to observe the class a while more. A few promising candidates, he thought, but it was still too early to tell. Naruto, in particular, would need to be tested if he were to provide any helpful insights. He’d promised Iruka the boy would receive a fair chance, but Kakashi wasn’t sure if the teacher would appreciate what that would entail, nor did he know how long this evaluation would eventually take. As far as the slayers were concerned, this was unknown territory. 

Eventually, the youth caught his eye once again, this time mouthing “Tea?”, before turning to debrief the gathered children. Kakashi sighed, but got up from his spot dutifully. It would be a while before the teacher could make it to the room. He may as well get the tea going.

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

 It had become a bit of a ritual on the afternoons when time allowed for it.

Kakashi didn’t mind it at all. The tea was good, and Iruka never felt the need to force conversation. Their topics ranged from day to day, with neither giving away too much or too little of themselves. It was always comfortable, and usually, that was all well and good.

But that wouldn’t do at all today. If Kakashi wanted anything more than what polite conversation would reveal, he’d have to earn it. So he waited, patiently.

Iruka finally appeared at the doorway, obviously prepared for a quick apology, but upon seeing Kakashi, merely blinked.

The hearth was lit, and the iron kettle upon it was already emitting a steady trail of steam.  

“Iruka-sensei, won’t you come in?”

“Oh, yes. I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, Kakashi-san.”

“Not at all, sensei.” 

Iruka stepped into the room and placed a seal on the door frames. There was a faint buzz, and the air settled into a familiar lull. 

Placing his sword beside him, Iruka settled in his seat on the floor. Kakashi took his time filling two cups, one of which he offered to the younger man, who bowed with gratitude, before taking it into his own hands. They sat in silence for a moment, and when it had cooled enough, he took a sip.

The way Iruka’s eyes lit up in surprise produced a small laugh from Kakashi.

“Is it to your liking?” 

Iruka smiled fondly before sighing.

“I suppose none of us have managed to escape this part of Sarutobi-sensei’s instruction.” 

“I’ll admit, it was a pain. But it makes for good tea at least.” Kakashi admitted, sipping from his own cup. It’d taken him more time than he’d cared to share to pass this part of his sensei's test. It had apparently become a bit on an in-joke by the time Jiraiya had put Minato through the same ordeal. 

They talked for a while, and settled into a relaxed pace. Iruka as usual, held his gaze to the flame, and when his cup was just about empty, Kakashi offered him another, which he accepted.

He’d been half way through that one when Kakashi spoke again.

“Iruka-sensei, there’s something I’ve been curious about.”

The younger man nodded silently, but continued with his tea.

“Your parents were killed by the Fox, you said so the day we met.”

The youth nodded, but said nothing, and merely waited for him to continue. 

“Yet you’ve never thought of killing Naruto? Of getting your revenge?”

To his credit, Iruka didn’t react in the slightest. He merely took another sip of tea.

Then, he broke his eye contact with the flame in the hearth, and looked at Kakashi squarely. There wasn’t a trace of humor in his eyes, nor his voice when he finally spoke.

 “What makes you think I haven't?”

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

-End of Chapter 2-

Author’s Notes:

Welp, this is gonna be longer than I expected! Let’s see where this takes us. :D 

[buuttercup]

My laziness needs to end and this weekend needs to absolutely not happen. I do stupid things when I'm bored. I dangle my carrot in front of anyone I can as if that will make me feel okay. When I speak to anyone about B and I, I say I'm doing better than I am; I don't say we've fucked, obviously, because that's fucking laughable; I say I know I'll be able to find someone better for me, even though I don't think that's true; I say I'm never going back to him, even though I want to every day and every second. Everything I say is the antithesis of what is actually true. And that's fucking typical.

This new guy I've been talking to must find me so cringe, always posting vain photos and videos of myself now. I can't be bothered with what he thinks of me other than his opinions on my appearance but I want to see him again just to see. It's kind of funny how calculated and predictable it all is, my process of trying to heal after a breakup. I reduce myself every time. Feeding off attention from people that do not matter serves no one. Fucking randoms, promising things I can't keep, frivolous spending, painting myself to be more okay than I am. It’s all methodical.

I'm so fake on top of my shit and drowning in responsibilities I'm avoiding, but I don't really know what I'm waiting for? I wake up and run through a list of the things I need to take care of, but I'm still in the mindset I was when I was in 4th grade: convinced I will die at a young age, so why bother? I can't explain why I used to feel this way but I always felt I was meant to die at a young age, almost like I wanted that for myself. An escape to avoid the pain adulthood and wisdom bestows on you.

Myriad relationships with past friends and lovers have been reemerging as of late. I should be gracious of these people reaching out, as it comes from a place of love, but I actually hate it. These people from the past are all reminders of a version of myself that had less fortitude and self respect. That version of myself has admittedly become a victim of the harsh voice I speak to myself in. How stupid could you be? To be convinced that I found my one and only so early in life, right under my nose. I held onto him because I thought his lack of experiences would guarantee his loyalty and devotion. I thought, "I'll show him all that he hasn't seen or felt. I'll make him obsessed with me. I will secure my place in his heart." Naive and reluctant to the idea of him stepping outside of me. I am so tired of feeling not enough and making myself to be this diminutive version of myself that does not exist.

I have nothing to hide... except all the things I have to hide. Such as the shame and degradation I bring onto myself.

My life is sickeningly ironic at this point. Laughably, actually. My roommate has started up with a new boy. It's heart eyes, cuddling, and coffee made by 7am type of love right now. I'm not jealous. I don't want the guy. I'm not bitter about the fact that she keeps comparing her experiences with this guy with me and B. (I miss the ring 'me and B' had to it.) I'm really not. What I have been clinging onto however, are the parallels in her feelings and spoken words about this guy in comparison to my guy. Memories of excitement and lightheartedness can only be recalled as though it was another person living through them. I can't imagine myself boo'd up, laughing, secured... enamored with someone at all. Much less B. It's like, who was that that was living through all that sweetness? The irony lies in me knowing that that sweetness is what I'm holding onto. They are my favorite scenes from my favorite movie that I keep rewinding. Experiences unique to me n B. Although I'm broken, I can't dismiss the love and care B showed me. There’s a reason why I stuck by him for as long as I did, and there's a reason why I was more than happy to for the rest of my life. To make myself ashamed of the love I experienced with this person is wrong of me to do. I won't lie; it does hurt to see her so happy and nonetheless compare my happiness and optimism to what she feels. I promised to myself that I wouldn't project any of my own negativity and cynicism onto her.

This season isn't about he and I. It's about me.

Every moment I spend not working or working out feels like a waste. Even when I’m deep in my most depressing and lonely thoughts, I feel like I should be working out.

I think sick things. I think sick things to convince myself to be okay with what he did or.. the exact opposite.. to convince myself to banish this person from my heart forever. I asked him, when did you do this? Where? Did you show yourself? Either situation feeds into my insidious thoughts. If he showed himself, he shared his beauty and had that connection with someone else. They saw him and he saw them. I try to put myself in his shoes in that moment, I think, "well at east if he showed himself, I know human tendencies and that everyone looks at themselves during most of a video call, right?? At least he was probably looking at his own dick part of the time?? Yeah, at least he wasn't entirely focused on another body during that entire time.." The other option is that he wasn't on cam, and that is was only her. Still shit. To think of him being so primal and lusting for other parts, another body, anther person, kills me. I am too obsessed with the superficial connections he had with other people, but that is only because I feel THAT IS ALL I HAVE TO OFFER! I fooled myself into believing his lack of experience would minimize his hunger for other women, because I assumed he didn't know what else was out there. I assumed he would see me and have me and that that would be enough. We told each other about our past; I was his first serious girlfriend, I thought at the time, so I felt safe in the delusion that I wasn’t competing with memories of someone before me. I ransacked all parts of him in search of safety and fidelity. Nothing I thought about him was true.

And yet, I’m the I am still so hungry for him. He is more than his beautiful exterior; I crave his voice, his comfort, pragmatism, and his warmth. I have never given love an honest go like this. All my time spent with him was always sweet; I never felt blessed in my life, but I felt that way with him. I am convinced I won't ever be able to find what I found in him in anyone else. The narrative that there is only one person made for us is naive and impractical, but I really do feel that way with him. He checks my social media often; I know that. I am scared for the day it all ends because I know that when that day comes, I will not be in the same place. I will still be waiting. Perhaps it's my self cruelty speaking for my whole self, but I honestly believe I will always be waiting for him. I thought I'd be the same way with Leo. I was scary scary obsessed with him. Hastily convinced that this is the person for me; there are still times I think that... but all those fallacies are crowded out the second I think of B. Am I missing being loved or and I missing being loved by this person? How could I have aggrandized someone so small and immature? Who am I even talking about?? All of them.

Hearing of my mother's heartbreak is more painful than listening to my own. I don't think B has any idea of the ripples of pain he's caused around me. When I speak to my mom, I hear the hopeless romantic in her. She is waiting for this guy to prove himself in ways my father never could. She speaks about he and I as if she knows and wants for us to get back together again. She is waiting for a grand gesture, as was I. She is waiting to see if this guy will prove to be different, in ways my father could never be. I think she wants that just for my own sanity, so I don't go off to asume every man will only disappoint me. It's too late for that. Although I already believe that of men, part of me is still holding out for this person. Why was I robbed of my happiness and future experiences with this person??

I get so bitter when I start to think of everything I missed out on with B. Every relationship I see makes me think of what could’ve been. I'm like, that fucker didn't even get to see me dance, get to feel me grind on him while we were out, he didn't get to feel me eat his ass and suck him raw like I wanted, he didn't get to see me actually dolled up in that dress I saved for just him, he didn't get to feel me fully, we didn't get to vacation together, he didn't get to have the full me. Is that why this all happened? I get so angry at all that he didn't get to experience with me, as if it's my own fault that he's not trying as hard as I want him to be. A larger part of myself is convinced that he didn't get to experience these things with me because he didn't deserve to. I am so ready to put myself on display, to serve myself on a platter. The second I am made to be the fool, I carry the blame on my back as if it was my own faults that put us here. I feel this is the only way someone will see me and want me and only me. This will never be true; it's not like I want this to be my narrative, I really think it is though. If I'm not waiting for B to be at my door, I'm waiting for the day to be fully healed; neither seems reachable. Am I feeling this way because he is actually the one that is meant for me or because I've never been betrayed to this degree, and I'm yearning for an absolution? Way beyond the clouds is where I'll find my answer, by the time my head is light and empty enough to float high enough to find these answers, I think it will be too late. Every day, every second I have to fight myself to call him, to tell him to come over, to let him know about his secured spot in my heart. I can’t do that because I know it’s not true. It was not true with Leo, and although I know it’s unfair to compare B with L, both are in the same category; undeserving of me. A part of me wishes I could rush his growth so that it would alleviate some of the shame I might receive from getting back with him but I know that’s selfish. More of me wants the whole process to be rushed because I believe what we had was unique and beautiful and that it was the security that he and I deserved. The idea that he still wants me too makes it all worth it. I will be taken for granted again if that were to happen though. My feelings of heartbreak aren’t unique; I know I have felt this way before, and I might feel this way again.

I feel the ghost of his hand on my waist all the time.

[trashiecat]

just havin a hard time lads just real bad

i know i don’t really make personal posts on here anymore. i think as i’ve gotten older i’ve felt less and less the draw of just shoving all my personal life out into the void to see if anything reaches another person, any person. maybe now because i am trying to reach a specific person without actually reaching out to him at all i take to this. he doesn’t know this blog, there’s no way in hell he would ever have remembered it even exists much less my screen name.

and what’s the chance that he’d look me up, anyway? he said he wasn’t going to search. he refused to take any responsibility for himself and honestly that’s a shame. that’s such a shame because he’s one of the most capable people i’ve ever met and he’s choosing to be this. to be closed off and unkind and just suffer alone waiting for someone that isn’t me and frankly ruined his life.

it’s hard to explain everything and i don’t think it’s necessary. i know the facts and i am saying this for myself in the vain hope that it will reach another person, but not any person. it’s reached you, and that could be enough. in the great cosmic scheme of it all. through you the energy of it reaches someone else and someone else and someone else and over and over and then maybe, finally, it settles on him and he gets it.

i know that he is thinking i am going to cave. that in a couple weeks i will crawl my way back to him, sheepish and sad, and try to fix things. but it’s not really up to me to fix. i’m not the one that ruined it. i’m not the one saying “this is just how i am” because i understand that my behavior and my treatment of others is a reflection of who i choose to be. and i don’t want to get into drunken arguments, i don’t want to be yelled at by someone i love and i don’t want to yell at someone i love.

he’s never going to let her go. or he is. i don’t know, and i’ve gotten tired of worrying about which it’s going to be and is he still waiting and how long is he going to wait with her phone number under a pseudonym from the first time he started talking to her again after she had cheated on him.

i don’t even know how long it took for her to cheat on him that first time. probably not very long. but still he thinks the world of her, that she’s this magnificent thing and he’s this lowly little creature that she comes and rescues whenever it pleases her.

really she’s a narcissist and is incapable of caring about anyone’s feelings but her own. i know this because i have been through this. i know this because he and i are the same, he just refuses to see the truth of things.

and what is the truth, really? is it what someone says, or what someone does? is it the way they treat you or the way they say they treat you? how they feel about you? how do you prove what the truth is when you feel like you can’t trust anything anymore? not even yourself?

and i remember that. i remember not trusting myself. i remember being so confused and hurt and just wanting that to stop that i was willing to believe anything that my abuser told me. and he’s the same now. he’s willing to believe in the lie because it’s all that he knows and he’s afraid of what life will be outside of that. i can’t blame him for that. i can’t blame him for being broken down and afraid and so confused that everything just becomes stagnant because you don’t know which way to go.

but i am still angry. and hurt. it’s the fact that he started treating me the way that she treats him. as if that’s love? as if that’s just the type of things you put up with in a relationship? in any type of relationship? and i can empathize with that, i understand that when someone repeatedly brainwashes you into believing that what you have with them is True Love, you can’t see things any other way until you’re ready to. and he’s just not ready to, and i can’t allow him to treat me in a way unworthy of who i am, and who he is.

i know he takes this as some sort of punishment, but it’s not that. this is for me. my leaving is for me, and i hope to god it wakes him up and makes him realize all the shitty little ways he has hurt me and others close to him. but that’s not the point of it. the point is that i respect my own worth, and i will not be cut down to size by anyone ever again. he suffers the consequences of his own actions in this, but i suffer the consequences of mine.

we are the same creature in different climates. there’s no other way to put it. different adaptations due to our environment but at the core we are the same thing. i know this, and no one can take that from me. i found someone, one person, that speaks my exact language without either of us having to translate it all. i get it.

he thinks he left her for me but he didn’t, because he didn’t really leave. so i have to leave. i have to be the grown up and say “hey kiddo, you really fucked up here because you refuse to deal with your own emotions and work through the trauma caused by the ex girlfriend you thought you’d spend the rest of your life with because she lied about who she is and you keep wanting to believe that so badly, even though she’s proven numerous times exactly who she is.”

and he wouldn’t hear any of it, of course. he wants answers and i present them clearly because she will never, ever give him the truth of who she is, but that’s not what he wants to see. that’s not what he wants to admit. because then it’s wasted. all that time and energy and love is just wasted.

we have such a short time here, we are afraid to waste it. to invest poorly. to back the wrong horse. to dream so big and be so hopeful and then have to let it all go because we built it up too much to begin with, and it was never that.

and maybe this isn’t what i dreamed it could be. maybe i lie to myself. maybe i cling to my hopes too tightly instead of letting them go. in another life, maybe, this could all work out. 

i don’t know anymore. i’m just tired. i’m just so tired.

[prorevenge]

Boy meets girl

I often pressed V for information on how she earned income but she would give conflicting answers about grants and scholarships until one day.... About 6 months after our first meeting, she finally tells me and IT. IS. NOT. GOOD. I was interviewing at a professional school when I receive the call, she's in trouble, BIG TROUBLE, and needs my help. She tells me she earns money by doing others' assignments for them. $200 to write a paper and $800 to complete an online class, usually a 100 level introductory course. She describes the method she uses to circumvent the ITs detection of others completing others assignment and how her client wasn't doing his part to copy/paste and submit from his own computer. He is failing the course and blames her. He threatens to turn her in. Her plan is to refund his money and wants me to 'follow him to see if he goes somewhere alone and take his phone' because that has all the evidence of their communications. HOLY SHIT! SHE WANTS ME TO COMMIT STRONG ARMED ROBBERY, a FELONY for her! I'm not going down for this or with her and I know nobody would believe me. ENTER: military experience - if there's no record, it didn't happen. So, I agree to help her, somehow, as soon as I return to town. I go to V's dorm the next night and she shows me EVERYTHING. Her list of clients, their blackboard passwords, how she meets them, how she defends them during honor code violations, etc. So I tell her not to worry, I'll handle everything on the day she refunds his money. Relieved, she goes to bed but before she lays down I ask to use her computer for on assignment and she says "sure do whatever you want". In my state, if you let someone use your electronics, its called "having privilege" and anything you do with their computer which may harm them is legal as if it your own computer. So, I took screenshots of her conversations with her clients, I open google settings and screenshot all the blackboard users and passwords stored on her computer. I go to her messenger and screenshot their conversations. Back home, I compiled our recordings and saved our facebook conversations. A week later, I made up an argument about an upcoming New Years Party and broke up with her. Then sat on the information I had on hand for 2 more weeks thinking about what I should do.

I remembered how she has a history of arrests from high school to freshman year for stealing from outlet malls and selling their loot online. Never formally charged. She, of course, omitted this from her application into professional school. How she admitted "finding a mark" and using them to pass her courses. How she denigrated others who were completing courses through hard work. How she used her position as honor council to get her friends out of trouble while helping to expel others for doing exactly what she was doing. How she cheated on me multiple times, used me, manipulated me, tried to make me commit a felony and ruin my life. SHE HAD TO BE STOPPED.

Knowing she was friends with the faculty on the honor council, they often bought each other gifts, I had to go above their heads. I gave names and descriptions of the events to my program director. He then goes to the honor council, anyway. I was called into the honor council's head office of "Corrupt Administrator" CA. CA tells me I should delete the information I have because it could become a civil matter and I should consider my "self preservation." She schedules another meeting with me a week later. I return and she asks if I want to make a statement about V. Guess what I said, I tell her "no, I deleted everything and I don't remember" because I was in the military and I know how to 'play ball' when superiors tell you to shut your mouth. But the most important reason I decided to not file against V directly was due to the fact I was applying for a military scholarship to pay for professional school. Since I did not follow through, the program director filed an honor code violation complaint against V on a date [suggested by CA]. A month later they tell me their investigation was inconclusive and they will close the case due to the director waiting 1 day too long to file according to the school's academic policy. CA set us up! However, since the director used my name as a source, they must notify V because students have rights to know their accusers. FUCK.MY.LIFE. CA fucked me and ruined any chance for a case against V based on a technicality. Now I fear for my safety because V tried to get me to strong arm rob someone now I just implicated a dozen cheaters who have as much as her to lose. CA schedules a meeting with V and tell her about an ongoing investigation and tells her she will be kept up-to-date. I know the investigation is over and now they are just doing formalities. V requests the information of the investigation and they promise to email it to her. V calls me for support even though we aren't together. She is crying and talking about killing herself. She tells me her dad had been paying for her college this whole time and starts coming clean with other lies. I feel bad and almost regret everything. Maybe she is not a sociopath, maybe she is really sorry. She stays at my house the next few days, I'm watching her trying to keep it together. THEN HER FUCKING CLIENTS START COMING TO MY HOUSE. She is still doing their assignments! She NEVER LEARNS!

Finally she gets the investigation info and there's my name. She calls me 130 times in 3 days, sends her friends to my classes to tell me to come to her house, finally I do. But I don't go into her room because she will trap me. She takes my phone so I can't record. She tries to get me to sign a paper saying I fabricated everything and its all false. I tell V, "They already closed the investigation, you wont get in any trouble why should I implicate myself and get in trouble? It wont solve anything!" And she pleads, "Do you still love me?" I shake my head and walk out. Two days later, police are waiting at my house to serve a 72 hour emergency protective order (EPO) commanding me to stay away from V. I know what she is up to. She is trying to get me to violate the protective order, discredit me, and send me to jail. Its very easy to lie to create one and lie to say it was violated.

NOW ITS NOT JUST REVENGE TIME, ITS WAR

Here's the plot twist: I never really deleted the files as I told CA. TYVM, Google drive.

After the 72 hours EPO expired, another EPO arrives which lasts two years but requires a court appearance. This is a huge problem because I am in the US Army reserves and it requires the handling of firearms which is illegal under an EPO. Her lawyer calls me and threatens me not to "participate in anymore investigations against her" and sends a paper tiger. I get a lawyer, lets name him "Folds like a lawn chair". He tells me "who will they believe: a pretty girl or you?" I fire him. Get a better lawyer, a trial lawyer, called "Miss Badass Esq." and prepare for war. Miss Badass requests a copy of V's EPO from the court. It essentially says I was blackmailing her, threatening to beat her up, and I broke into her room to steal incriminating information against her. All lies. I provide my lawyer the entire history of our relationship: 600 pages of facebook and text messages showing she is the aggressor, the abuser, in the relationship, phone call history, all the recordings and screenshots of her cheating ring. I make a poster sized chart of her room and the events that transpire there the day in question when she tried to trap me into signing a statement taking responsibility for her actions.

Courtdate: We made V and her lawyer look REALLY stupid. They were going with the 'pretty girl' strategy. But the dorm gave us records showing she was signing me in and out of her room, so it discredits the need to break in. The call logs: 130 times in 3 days and aggressive texts showed she wasn't actually afraid of me adn it was her, not me, being aggressive. And when he asked what I had to use to blackmail her, her lawyer said "just some tutoring papers" for which the judge said, "that doesn't sound like anything wrong. What power did that give him over you?" They had no response. My turn to speak, I explain how she tried to get me to rob a guy, how she wanted me to write a letter to take the blame, how she used her position as honor council chair to break state law and violate academic policy. And summarized we were only there because she wanted revenge on me. I watched V and her lawyer stutter and squirm uncomfortably under the judges questioning, case dismissed.

All that information I gathered to defend myself was not going to go to waste. I took it to a newly hired honor council investigator called "Meg" who had no affiliation with V. I told her what CA had done to defend V. A week later, I was told the by Meg there had been a meeting with the school police, the provost, their legal team, then the provost himself decided filed a complaint against V. I had to meet with the police to file a statement about V trying to recruit me to rob someone but other than that I was out of the loop. I later learned the results: V lost her her slot at that school's professional program, her program director yelled at her at the top of his lungs, "YOU WILL NEVER GO TO ********* SCHOOL, I KNOW ADMISSIONS AND I WILL SEE TO IT", she got expelled, her TWO degrees (biomedical engineering and biology with a minor in chemistry) were withheld for 6 years and her transcripts would carry a permanent mention of an honor code violation, her clients who graduated had their degrees retracted with similar mentions on their transcripts, and current clients were also expelled. The school changed its policy on reporting date requirements to like 60 or 90 days. Me? I am in professional school. V had her chance to get away with all of this until she tried to get revenge on me. I reduced this super villain from owning a fleet of beta male minions, being the most connected person in the university, and having a lucrative future in ripping people off in the medical industry to the last time I saw her: riding a fucking scooter.

(source) story by (/u/Apophis1942)

[therealfluke]

hello hello ! wld j like to say that if ur already following me and ur like “why” it is because. this is may. i j reserved from my rph so the alias it went under was lucky. which actually,, so fitting w this theme (goes by a name that means an unlikely coincidence, last name is associated with luck, etc.). in addition, if “lucky” by britney spears immediately got stuck in ur head... that was the ultimate goal. also listen,,,, u r not the only one who hates my url. and finally! i saved the old posts on here and j made them private for posterity (obviously) and also,, my sanity.

‹ OLIVER JACKSON-COHEN, HE/HIM, CIS MAN, BISEXUAL. › levi “fluke” fisher is the twenty-seven year old from salem, massachussets / new york city, new york. when a friend asked them what they thought of the manor they said, ❝ IT FEELS LIKE I’VE BEEN HERE BEFORE. ❞ they claim final destination is their favorite scary movie, and if they were to die in a horror film they would form an alliance with the murderer, then annoy the murderer into killing him by asking too many questions. their fears include rats, isolation and living the rest of his life without muse d, and they don’t know we know, but… in spite of a promise he made to his family, friends and self, he has a baggie of heroin on him at all times so he can prove to himself he’s strong (which is a lie – it’s really for a ‘just in case’ situation) . hope they enjoy their stay. ‹ MUSE C from OTHERSIDE penned by, LUCKY, 20, EST. ›

QUICK FACTS:

full name: levi “fluke” james fisher

hometown: salem, ma // moved to new york city, new york at twenty-two

date of birth: march 10, 1992*

*does not perfectly reflect the below Big Three Zodiac Chart™ because that’s so much math

zodiac big three: pisces sun, scorpio moon, pisces rising (he is!! so ruled by his emotions!!)

gender & pronouns: cis man & he/him

sexual orientation: bisexual

occupation: museum night guard ( fired ) / leech off of his older siblings

mbti: infp

enneagram: 4w5

the song i listen to on repeat while i write the intro: “stars” - nina simone ( cover )

BACKGROUND INFO:

triggers: death (under mysterious circumstances, but officially dubbed murder), night terrors / hallucinations?, drug abuse / addiction ( oxy, heroin ), accidental overdose, death by overdose

it began with josephine (“jo”), levi, charlotte (“lottie”), and christopher (“chris”) – in that order. or, perhaps, that reverse order – see: chris was the oldest.

they were all born to very kind and lovely parents. the majority of levi’s memories with his parents take place in a large house they were intending to flip. given its size and the price it would sell for, they spent more than their fair share of time in there. that being said, because their parents were often busy flipping and marketing the house, they all relied on each other for fun, even in spite of the sizable age difference between himself (and jo, who i have forgotten to mention is his “younger” twin) and christopher.

the longer they spent there, however, the more uneasy they grew. i mean, it was basically its own version of the manor – it was also guillermo del toro’s wet dream. levi could’ve sworn he’d had some run-ins with spooks, but no confirmation was ever, nor could ever be, offered. so the manor feels... very normal.

anyway, when levi was eight, his mother and father met an untimely demise. a break-in gone wrong while the kids were with their grandparents, they were told. at the time, levi... was eight and, therefore, had no doubts. now, however, he mulls over the many possibilities – it was a big house, the likelihood that they really could’ve been in that wrong of a place at that wrong of a time felt very unlikely. some form of suicide? something otherworldly? they seemed about as likely. he’s pretty sure lottie and chris know the truth, but...

after that, they were sent to live with their grandparents. while not particularly ideal, they recognized that it was far better than the foster care system. however, these recurring spooks didn’t just stop when he moved. his grandparents and older siblings blamed it on childhood night terrors, jo believed him. 

as they continued into his teen years, they claimed it was sleep paralysis. he confided in jo, in secret, that they weren’t strictly at night. he knew very well that, if he shared that with his grandparents or older siblings, they would think he really needed help. maybe he did, he never truly learned.

when chris moved out to go to college, and when lottie followed just a few years after, levi found it was just jo and himself. their grandparents were beginning to go past old age and reach senility. they had bouts of forgetting. 

levi chose not to go to college, but insisted jo, who’d always wanted to go, go without him. she went to new york city, he stayed behind with his grandparents in salem up until their death when he was twenty-two. it was early in his eyes, but for, say, his brother, it was pretty record-breaking. 

when he was twenty-one, after the death of his grandparents, he left salem and all of its reminders of childhood terrors and lies. he found jo in new york and began living with her and working as a night guard at one of the many museums.

but a mere one (1) year later, jo, usually straight-edge, decided she would finally go to her first college party in celebration of being so close to graduating. yeehaw. levi was invited to go with her, but had been warned far too recently that, if he missed one more shift, he’d be fired.

on the topic of his night shifts, his terrors seemed to go away when he moved to new york. it seemed as though he’d left them all in salem, but there were definitely moments in a huge and empty museum that he could’ve sworn he’d seen something. anyway, back to the main point:

jo didn’t return until the next morning and, when she did, she expressed the excellency she had experienced the night before. she wasn’t afraid of telling him she’d tried drugs for the first time – no, that night, it’d just been weed. he’d tried weed in high school, trying to figure out if it would help with his terrors. for a hot second, it did... which is what led to his own demise.

(OK! so from here on out, i’ll be talking about the other muses in the subplot. i’m gonna do my best to leave their story and keep their drug of choice vague! anyway!)

jo began falling deeper into the drug world after meeting and beginning to date muse b and eventually fell into harder tingz™. she never tried to pressure fluke into trying anything, but he witnessed the reaction to it. between that and having looked up to his younger sister ( by, like, two minutes ) for nearly the entirety of his life, he decided to try whatever she did. 

however, unlike her, he quickly escalated to heroin.

he started out smoking it... then snorting it... then began shooting it. he liked shooting it the best – not only because he reached the high quicker, but also because it required more of a ritual. as a fan of ritualistic behavior, the lead-up was almost as enjoyable as the high itself. unfortunately, it did leave him with many trackmarks and an even higher risk of reliance and overdose.

he didn’t go out to many parties after that. he preferred shooting in the company of the few, not the many. if his sister and friends did, that was their prerogative, but it was just... more peaceful...

suddenly, he didn’t ever think about the terrors or the lies or the shadows in the museum. he was eventually fired, yes, and had to start ‘earning’ money via asking his other siblings. 

when the topic came up between himself and his little group of friends on whether or not they should quit, he had no answer. 

in 2018, at twenty-six, his usual dealer had cut him off due to the money he was no longer good for. finding a much cheaper one, he took the same dose, but the amount of other chemicals it was cut with sent him to the hospital. given plenty of naloxone, he came out of it alive and clean and, due to the nature of it all, was deemed a fluke.

he didn’t take to that at first. he was lucky, yes, but a fluke ? it couldn’t have been that unlikely... especially when he fell back into it after finding another dealer and being totally fine. however, when he heard jo had overdosed and actually died ?

yes, he was a fluke.

he was so blinded with rage at muse a at first for leading his absolute crutch to her death, he was so blinded with rage at muse b for first introducing her to a world of harder drugs, he was so blinded with rage at himself for being the one who survived when she was the one who actually could’ve done something with her life.

so he embraced the word ‘fluke’ – he acknowledged that he was one during her eulogy, he told his other siblings he’d been the fluke at her wake. when he began saying it enough times, it caught on, whether he meant for it to or not.

he’s no longer so angry at muse a  and muse b for what they did. muse b wanted to get sober, after all, and muse a , much like himself, was simply an addict. they couldn’t help not being prepared to give it up. he’s still furious at himself.

now that they've all gone clean, however, fluke is somewhat more pleased. he’s fairly certain he’ll never not be in mourning. quite frankly, he’s fairly certain he’ll eventually relapse. even worse, in spite of the group promise, he’s brought contraband with him to “prove his strength” ( see: that’s what he tells himself ).

riffing off of that, in the manor, his terrors have begun returning and he’s unable to nail if it’s because of the similarities between it and the home he remembers so well or if it’s because he’s now sober of it it’s because... it’s just the manor itself. 

he’s still certain it’s all real.

TL;DR:

basically lived in a replica of the manor when he was a kid with his loving parents and three other siblings. is pretty sure he saw some paranormal stuff goin on. parents were “murdered” but he suspects something else. moved in with grandparents and continued seeing some paranormal stuff. only his twin sister, muse d (jo), believed that it wasn’t just night terrors. jo went to college, he stayed behind. grandparents died rip. he went to nyc where jo was and eventually met muse a and muse b when they all fell into hard drug use. almost died because of poorly cut heroin. jo died some months later. hates himself. rip. alexa, play “my heart will go on” but the recorder version.

PERSONALITY INFO:

sad boi energy

if u read thru this and didn’t think “why does she keep basing her characters off of characters from thohh” then,,, u should go watch thohh bc,,, it’s so obvious (we even over here picturing victoria pedretti as jo unless someone applies for her at some point afhsljk) hlfajdsa

has a terrible tendency to find someone to feed off of – someone to be codependent off of. without jo, he’s floundering.

is very * eyes emoji * at,,, many things. the explanation for his parents’ death? * eyes emoji * the spooks that almost everyone came up with excuses for? * eyes emoji * staying sober? * eyes emoji *

didn’t mean to start going by fluke, but started using the word to describe himself so much, it just happened organically.

i have stated before. that im bad at these sections. so feel free to j consult the zodiac / mbti / enneagram above haofuwdlijk

not rly personality but lil hc is that he goes back to that huge victorian house all the time and uses a ouija board to see if he can contact ANYONE :\ the ultimate eeyore :\

another lil hc is that he’s actually a v talented pianist. his mother sort of taught him the basics and he went on to learn classical through sheet music and schooling, then songs from rock bands/artists who incorporated keys in their music. brought the 7-octave keyboard his grandparents bought him... apparently doesn’t need it because there’s a huge piano hajfdkls

if u want 2 hear abt some of my paranormal hcs lmk i wld put them here but?? some r actually creepy (and/or involve blood) which we luv for me!!

FEARS:

rats: when he was living in that big house™, there were plenty of rat infestations. he often got those mixed up with his spooks™. there were also a lot of rats at his grandparents’ house and at his and jo’s apartment. it’s more of a general fear, but. (also... rat poison? drug abuse? symbolism.)

isolation: for an introvert, he’s really bad at being alone. for one things, he gets lonely which is very detrimental to his already fragile mental state, especially considering he’s pretty sure he’ll relapse. in addition, he’s much worse at dealing with any spooks™ that come his way when he’s completely alone. when someone else is in the room, even if he isn’t actively talking to them, at least there’s the comfort of not being alone in it all. 

living the rest of his life without muse d: even if she was the one who began their drug journey, she was the only person who ever believed anything fluke said – she was the only person he ever felt actually listened to him and cared about him with no ‘if’ or ‘but’ attached. he also always found her much wiser than himself and could’ve sworn she would’ve gone to rehab after getting well with muse a one last time. she was the one who was going somewhere and she was the one who loved him unconditionally. no wonder he’s got sad boi energy :\

WANTED CONNECTIONS:

his other brother and sister! i’ll probs send in wcs for them to the main, but if you think they wld sound cool, lmk. luv that. (update!! take one of them you cowards.)

the dealer who actually dealt him quality heroin

the dealer who dealt him heroin cut with god-knows-what

someone he accidentally starts to sink with himself

exes

fwb

ons

enemies (not super great at making them, but is still able to)

the new person he’s decided to latch onto

childhood friends (if there are other salem (or at least massachussetts) characters!)

idk!! we can also look at urs and/or brainstorm!!

ok ! like this or hmu if you’d like to plot !

[travellingmonk]

PART 1 - An Image That Predicts The Future 3 by Sunao Ari - Translated!!!

Now, to explain this a bit, I don't normally go out of my way for a doujinshi. (pain in the arse for me to translate with conversational Japanese and I am, by far, NOT an expert in the language.) However, this one I just HAD to know the story of and share. Because reasons. Fair warning, this is a Seiji x Touma story... where Seiji dies... and Touma takes it EXTREMELY BADLY... then dies, too. And the art style is consistent... but... eh... It's not comparable to Ken Mizuki or Lapis Homme art style. (to be honest, took me 3 times flipping through this, and the third time actually paying attention to the story being told, not the art style, before I picked up on the very emotional story that was unfolding. -_-U) So... yeah, if that upsets you, keep on scrollin' and pay no mind to this post.

If you're curious, then keep reading.

Now, to give you a VERY short version of these 3 pages, it’s a summary of what happened in the past 2 books (lordy only knows where a copy of them could be since this was released back in the early 1990′s).

Short version summary : Touma’s got a disease that’s landed his butt in the hospital. At first he lies and tells everyone he’s fine, but gets worse, thinks he’s gonna die, then goes all ‘Seiji! I love you!’ to which the blonde Trooper goes ‘I love you, too <3′. By the time Touma is well enough to leave the hospital, he catches sight of his boy on TV, severely injured, trying to whoop some Youja bad guy butt. Only to end up getting himself rushed into the hospital. Which ends up with the truth coming out that Seiji’s got cancer, has a month left to live, and life sucks. They decide to get married asap, with Touma giving Seiji a wedding ring.

Not long after, a new round of attacks from the Youja World (and Arago’s army) is unleashed on the city. Seiji knows he needs to be out there to help fight back and to form the Kikoutei armor, but he’s too weak and can barely move.

He prays / begs to Kaosu for help, saying he’d give his life if it means he can help stop this. Lo and behold, POOF! Seiji is magically made better, the Youja gate the baddies came through gets sealed up, all the bad guys are dealt with, and Seiji says goodbye as he walks into the magical sphere that will seal all of that evil away. Touma doesn’t take this well, AT ALL. He tries to stop Seiji, Shin attempting to hold Touma back, and, just like that, Seiji, the Youja bad guys, and the Youja gate are all gone.

Current book starts off by jumping well over a decade into the future with Shin, all grown up, with his now 8 year old daughter.

It’s a weird way to start this book, but we go from Shin and his daughter in the future, to back in the past after Seiji’s death.

Touma is not taking his friend’s / husband’s death well AT ALL. To the point he’s having violent nightmares, wakes up still being stressed / freaked out, and to where Nasutei has to use sedatives on him to make him calm down to any degree. Even then, he’s still in denial, and the others have to lie to him, saying that Seiji is out but that he’ll be back soon.

An exhausted Nasutei commenting (after he’s fallen back to sleep) commenting about why can’t he just accept Seiji’s death like everyone else has? Having Touma go through this is torture on all of them. Time flows ever onward and the warm weather turns cold. Touma gets past the worst of it, more or less, but is depressed and suicidal. To the point he locks his bedroom door, slits his wrists, and tries to bleed out. The others rescue him, get him to the hospital, to which, afterwords, comes back to Nasutei’s house where EVERYONE keeps an eye on him and makes sure anything sharp is locked away.

This stresses out everyone, and gets Shin, who’s been the most patient and compassionate of the bunch, to snap. Saying that Seiji wouldn’t have wanted his friend to behave this way, and that there’s no guarantee that if Touma WOULD die, that they’d end up meeting in the afterlife.

Things really aren’t made any easier when Kayura comes to visit and has news. Sure Seiji’s sacrifice was a noble one and did seal up that one location so no other evils, gates, or soldiers could return, but it’s messed up stuff to the point where any wickedness happens, a gate will appear and, well, we all know that the Earth isn’t the most peaceful place in the universe.

Touma gets upset, to the point he grabs her by the neck and slams her down onto the dining room table. Despite her best efforts, she’s unable to open the seal at all and reclaim Seiji’s body. At least if they had his body they could have a funeral and say a proper ‘farewell’. Eventually he releases her, then gets super depressed. One day while out on the the terrace with Ryou, a tree branch breaks and wallops Touma upside the head, giving him a nasty bleeding cut.

As his friends tend to the injury and stop the bleeding, Shin gives the blue haired Trooper a letter. After everything, Shin had claimed the bag of Seiji’s clothing and belongings from when he was in the hospital and, among the things is a letter addressed to Touma.

In the letter is a lock of Seiji’s hair and the letter basically reads ‘By the time you read this, I’ll be dead. Don’t be sad. Are you lonely? Are you alone? Go out and live your life. You still have one to live. Make me proud.’

That seems to be what it takes to snap Touma out of his mood and turns his whole world around. The next morning finds the Trooper of Tenku coming downstairs to breakfast wearing clean clothes, with the lock of hair tied to a necklace, and stating that he’ll be leaving the house soon. He’s decided to aim to become a doctor and to find a cure to the cancer that took Seiji’s life. (Line of logic here would probably be more like ‘if he hadn’t had that cancer, he wouldn’t have gotten so severely injured, and wouldn’t have had to sacrifice his life to safe the city. Hence, is all cancer’s fault that this happened’.)

Chapter 3 picks up in the future (or would this be considered the present?) with Doctor Hashiba getting called into surgery to save someone’s life.

The surgery went well. He gets praised. Then his mother decides to swing by for a visit. Half because she just won a Pulitzer Prize and wants to celebrate, and two, because she’s now got some time off from work to do so.

The only thing is, she’s got bad timing. This is Touma and Seiji’s wedding anniversary, and the anniversary / observance of when he died.

They have a bit of an arguement. She saying ‘I don’t want you to be alone’ and he saying ‘I’m not alone. I can’t love anyone else. Seiji was the only one in the world for me’. The conversation dies out when Shin arrives for a chat and Touma’s mother leaves. (And, yes, that IS Shin with the really long hair. I honestly think that Sunao Ari was channeling Shin’s early design from when the characters were still in developtment. Not even kidding, here.)

Anywho, onwards with the story~

Touma and Shin get to chatting. Shin’s here because, thanks to Touma, his daughter is cured of the same kind of cancer Seiji had. Today is the day she’s being released from the hospital and can go home. Touma asks if they’d seen Seiji’s inspirational statue out in front of the hospital. Shin has but his daughter hasn’t. She goes out to look? He sends her out to look? Not really clear on that, BUT, either way, she’s outside meandering about while the two men talk. The conversation is basically ‘everything changes, but it sure seems like Seiji / the memory of Seiji has never changed’. Touma makes an offhanded comment about his own disease and says that he knows / he has a feeling that he’s going to die soon.

Suddenly there’s noise from outside and, come to find out, Shin’s daughter (4 years old at this time) is out in the middle of the road. The two men race outside, with Touma being faster, and shoves her out of the way of danger.

Unfortunately, this lands Touma smack dab in the middle of traffic instead. And, well...

The headlights of a truck? ambulance? are all too familiar to the light that Seiji walked into all thos years ago. Just like that BAM!!!!

Shin rushes to his friend’s side and, understandably so, freaking out. (Pretty sure the pictures speak for themselves here. Also, TOUMA! NUUUU!!! I may be a loyal Ryou fangirl at heart but, TOUMA! NUUUUU!!!)

As Touma is dying in Shin’s arms, Seiji in angel form appears. Touma manages to whisper out the name of his beloved significant other before completely giving into death.

Is super sad. (DANG IT, SUNAO ARI! WHY MUST YOU HURT ME SO!? GWAAAHHH SUCH A SAD STORY!!!!!)

The story picks up later at Touma’s funeral. 

Despite the super sad atmosphere and Shin blaming himself for his friend’s death (’it’s my fault. I killed him.’ Shin, sweetie, no you didn’t. Your daughter wandered into traffic and Touma died saving her life. You didn’t do a thing! ~*sad hugs*~ ) Touma’s dead body had a gentle smile on its face. At least he died happy.

Around his neck is the same lock of Seiji’s hair from the letter so many years ago.

(Shut up, dun look at me! I’m not crying! You’re crying! Bwaaa~ :,( )

The story ends with Shin noticing the fact that it’s beginning to snow. In October. Too early.

He wonders if the snow is a sign that Touma and Seiji are now happy together, or sad.

Sunao Ari, I know it’s been decades since you made this story, probably the first time someone NOT Japanese has been able to read it, but I hope that where ever life finds you, that you’re doing well, are enjoying good health, and are no longer torturing Seiji and Touma. (not sure mah lil ol’ fangirl heart could take another book like this one from you! ^_^U) Well, that’s it. Hope you enjoyed the story and the fact that it was translated for your .... it’s not right to say ‘enjoyment’ here, is it? for your reading pleasure? ... still doesn’t sound right. ~*offers you soft tissues and a warm blanket after that story*~ excuse me whilst i go hunt down some cute pictures of fluffy kittens to console mahself with.

[bobasheebaby]

Sins of the Father- Crimson Rain chapter 13

Pairing: Bastien x Liza; Liam x Raven

Written for @badthingshappenbingo

Fandom: Choices (The Royal Romance Book)

Square filled: Blackmail

Word count: 2,205

Warnings: angst, threatening of a minor, blackmail

Summary: Liam learns a little more about his father’s involvement and comes to the conclusion of who he can and can’t trust. 

A/N: @katurrade and @zaffrenotes kept pushing me to do a Mobster AU. Beta’d by my patient husband who is completely hooked.

A/N2: My emotions always jump off the page, Liam’s emotions in the first section are the most real and raw I’ve ever written, they are my actual feelings regarding news about my FIL’s killer, so it might really hurt. I could barely breathe while writing them or rereading them. 

Series warnings: Mobster AU, there will be violence, and death. NSFW content to come. Possibly dark. If you ask to be tagged you acknowledge you are at least 18 years of age. 

Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist.

Disclaimer: I own my OC’s, the rest I’m simply borrowing from PB for a bit.

Present day; Trenton, New Jersey: 

Liam stared at the door Mara had just disappeared out of, hands clenched tightly into fists at his sides. While he wanted to react he knew he needed to try to keep some semblance of calm. He knew had Raven not been by his side in that moment he may have done something to hurt them both. He was stunned, anger rolling through his entire body. The last twenty years of his life had been a complete lie. People he had trusted had lied to him, betrayed him. His own father was behind his mothers attempted hit. His fist hit the wall with impressive force, the drywall giving way leaving a large gaping hole in its wake. Hot angry tears stung at the back of his eyes. 

Liam wanted to yell, scream, cry, destroy the entire house with his bare hands, yet at the same time he felt completely defeated. He felt betrayed. Those around him misled him, who could he trust that his father had? Who would be able to lie to him and betray him easily without a single thought? Who had known and watched him blame the wrong man? Every action he had made in the name of retribution for his mother had been made based on falsehoods he had been fed. Would he even know the truth if he hadn’t had found his mother and Hope? 

Hope, he had held the only remaining family at arms length, refusing to let her in based on who her father was because of facts he was led to believe. He was unsure if he could ever get past his feelings he had felt for the last twenty years. Sure what he believed was wrong, but with the truth widely exposed, things he hadn’t ever known come to light his emotions were still high and raw.

Liam didn’t know how if he ever could get past the things he learned. Would he ever be able to forgive Bastien, his actions were still at the root of what caused him to lose his mother. Would he ever be able to let Hope in knowing how she came to be? What else had his father lied to him about? Was anything he was told the truth, or had his entire life been a lie? 

All feelings could wait. The most important thing was deciding what to do about Mara. Fuck! Things couldn’t be more complicated. How was he supposed to deal with the woman who made him lose his mother when she was the mother of the woman he loved? 

Raven watched in stunned silence as the man she loved slowly started to spiral coming completely undone. She watched as years of training him to only show feelings such as rage slowly become forgotten. She knew he needed her, but in that moment she wasn’t sure how, or if she actually could help. Knowing that his years of pain and anguish from losing his mother was all because of her own had her worrying that he may no longer want anything to do with her. 

Raven felt like her entire life was crumbling around her. She hated her mother more in than moment more than she’d ever hated anyone before. She couldn’t understand how she could so easily make the decisions that caused Liam so much pain. Why couldn’t she just help Emmaline? Why did she have to alert Constantine of Emmaline’s plans? Her heart ached knowing that the one to blame was her family. She knew she needed to be punished, Emmaline deserved to be avenged somehow. Could she stand by and watch her mother be punished by the only man to ever hold her heart? She felt as is if the fact that her mother was to blame for everything to befall Emmaline only complicated matters tenfold and she wasn’t sure if her relationship could survive. 

Twenty years ago; Trenton, New Jersey Constantine: 

It was clear Constantine had misjudged Bastien’s loyalty to him, something he should have realized given the intimate nature of Bastien’s relationship with Emmaline. Adulterous Bitch! After everything I did for her, everything I gave her! He felt like he had been taken for a fool, again. Never again. He would get it right this time. 

The one thing Bastien taught him was not to underestimate those in his control, free will was a powerful thing even if it was a falsehood. He needed someone he could control to ensure that there would be no further issues going forward. Mara has given him the intel needed of her own volition, yet that was worrisome. It was clear to him that she was worried about her own gain, he needed to ensure that she wouldn’t betray him and warn Emmaline. He had one avenue he could explore, it was questionable, but no less than the hit against his own wife. 

With his plan in place Constantine sat back, hands folded against his chest as he waited for Mara to arrive. A few moments later he heard a tentative tap at the door, a smug smile formed on his lips. This time nothing will be left to chance. “Come in.” He called out. 

Mara stepped into the room visibly shaking, unsure of why the boss wanted to see her. “You wanted to see me Sir?” She asked her voice quaking.

“Yes, please take a seat.” He replied gesturing to the seats across from him.

Mara sat, clasping her hands in her lap. Her mind raced as she tried to figure out what he could want with her. Has Raven done something? 

“So, I wanted to thank you for telling me about my wife’s plans.” He said drawing to his feet. He crossed to the bar cart pouring a few fingers of Scotch. “Drink?” He asked motioning with his hand.

“N-no thank you. What exactly did you want to see me about?” 

“Ah yes, getting right down to business I see. I like that in an associate.” He said bringing his tumblr to his lips drawing a long sip of the smooth Scotch. “As I said I wanted to thank you for alerting me to Emmaline’s plans to leave.” 

“O-of course. Is that all?” She replied drawing to stand.

“No of course not.” He responded once more sitting at his desk. “I understand you’ve been worried about your position here since your husband’s untimely death.”

“Yes sir.”

“And I would be correct to assume that you gave me the information about Emmaline to secure your position here?” He questioned, eyebrow raised, drink at lips. 

“Y-yes Sir.”

“Very well.” He said, pursing his lips as if he were in thought. “Well, I can guarantee your position here for the foreseeable future—that is if you were willing to handle something for me.”

“A-anything.” She replied without hesitation.

“I need to ensure Emmaline won’t leave with Liam. Bastien was supposed to do the job but he refused, so now it’s yours. I need you to kill Emmaline.” 

“W-What? No I can’t do that!” She exclaimed in shock. She couldn’t be the reason Liam felt the same pain her daughter did. 

“Either you take care of Emmaline or you will never see Raven again, simple as that. Do you want to be a widow mourning the loss of her only child and her husband or do you want to ensure that you and Raven are taken care of?”

Mara’s eyes went wide. No, not Raven! “Fine. I’ll do it.” I’m sorry Liam, it’s for Raven, I can’t lose her.

“Very good. Let me know when it’s done.” He replied, his hand mentioned to the door. “You may leave now.” He sat back in his chair, sipping at his Scotch once more as he walked Mara hurriedly exit the room. At least there shall be no surprises this time… 

Present day; Trenton, New Jersey:

Liam sat at his large oak desk, fingers drumming on the top, empty whisky glass in front of him. He was trying to sort through all he learned that day. He still couldn’t believe his father of all people had been behind his mothers hit, all because she wanted to take him away. Raven sat on the nearby couch, mindlessly scrolling through social media feeds; eyes flicking from one post to the next but registering none. She knew Liam was hurting, and she wouldn’t leave him alone, even if she was also struggling to process that her mother had been the one to enforce the hit. They both looked up when they heard a sharp knock at the door. Must be Drake. I’m sure he’s heard by now. “Come in.” Liam called out. 

The door swung open, Madeline glider into the room. “Liam.” She said smiling widely. “I was hoping to have a word, alone.” Her eyes flicked to Raven. “Eh, close enough.” She smoothed down the back of her dress, sitting across from Liam.

“Madeline, I believe it’s proper to wait to be told to be seated.” Raven stated to platinum blonde woman. 

Madeline flicked her wrist towards Raven, ignoring the comment. “So I hear the cat is out of the bag so to speak.” She said, smirk on her rouge painted lips. “Are sure you still want to marry her knowing what her family did to yours?” 

Liam appraised Madeline, allowing her words to sink in. “You knew!” 

Madeline laughed. “Of course I knew! I was meant to be by your side, to guide you! Why wouldn’t I know?” She laughed off the absurd thought. “But of course you had to go and mess up your part.”

“What are you talking about?” Liam growled, his jaw clenching.

“Bastien.” Madeline said, her face read of annoyance that she had to explain something so simple to him like he was a child. “You were meant to loathe him, hate him so much you would be driven to destroy him.” She tapped a perfectly manicured nail against her leg. “With me by your side you would have, but you had to go and break the engagement and ruin everything.” The last words spat from her mouth like something that tasted vile. “I tried to warn you, but you had to follow your heart like some simpleton.” A soft smile formed on her perfectly painted lips. “Now, can you stop playing this charade and you finally admit that you need me by your side?”

Liam felt his rage boil, growing hotter in his veins threatening to consume him. “You actually think I would choose to marry you, after you admit to trying to trick me?” He sat forward, planting his palms on his desk. “Madeline I never planned on marrying you, why do you think I came up with excuses for four years to postpone? You will never be by my side! And from this day forward you are no longer welcome in my home.” Liam all but growled, he was absolutely seething in anger. It was talking all of his willpower to not take matters into his own hands. He knew he needed to remain calm, she was trying to goad him and he could not allow her to win. He was angry and hurt, but with his father’s insistence that anything but anger and rage was weak he was able to contain the overwhelming pain he felt and learning how much he was being used and played by his own father. 

Madeline’s smile faltered for a second. “Fine, have it your way.” Her emerald eyes shone with pride as she stood, her lips curved up into a sinister smile. “But just know without me you will never find your brother.” She said spinning on her heel, platinum blonde locks swaying behind her as she glided from the room feeling sure in herself that she had him where she wanted him. 

Brother? And Mara said something about my father refusing to lose another child? His mind raced as he tried to wrap his head around the fact that he may actually have two siblings he never knew about. 

“Liam, what did she mean by brother?” Raven questioned. 

“I don’t know but I intend to find out.” Liam replied, running a hand over his tired face. All the new facts not only turned his life upside down, but punched all the energy out of him. He needed to learn more, find out more about this possible sibling he never heard of before. He felt in his gut it had to be true, why else would his father take such extreme measures to keep his mother from leaving? One thing he was positive of, Madeline was only saying what she thought would gain his favor and put her by his side. 

He wouldn’t allow her to win, he didn’t need her. As much as it pained him there was one other person who may know the truth. As much as he’d grown to hate him, he was surprised that he trusted him more than those he’d already spoken to. 

Liam was surprised that he was about to turn to the last person he ever thought he would for help. There was only one remaining question, would Bastien help him after his attempt on Liza?

Feedback fuels me, please like, comment reblog or send an ask. Feel free to scream, I promise I can take it. 

Masterlist can be found in my bio.

Taglist will be reblogged.

[spartan2545]

SnowStorm: A Willow Schnee Fanfic

Description: Willow Schnee has lived too long as a broken woman. Jacques went too far this time, so she's going to fight back.

Rated T to be safe

Links: AO3  FF

This is Chapter 1(2K words), 4 chapters (7.6K words total) have been posted so far 

Weiss hadn't even told her she was leaving.

Let alone say goodbye.

She hadn't even noticed. Buried in the bottom of one bottle or another. Winter had told her.

What have I done to deserve someone who still cared?

None of it was a surprise. It had been this way for a long time.

Too long.

Willow looked at herself in the mirror. It was not something she liked to do, especially when the world was no longer mercifully blurred.

Her clothes were as pristine as one would expect of a Schnee, as her hair would be once she was done. After some deliberation, she had decided on a long braid like the one she once wore. But under it all, it was easy to find the broken woman. The blue staring back at her betrayed a shattered world.

The outfit was one she hadn't worn in a very long time, it was elegant as expected of her family, but more practical than her usual. It wouldn't look completely out of place on one of her daughters. Boots, fitted trousers, and a long tactical jacket. The white was accented by purple more than red and blue, in contrast to the rest of her family.

Not that she would have to do anything physical, but it gave her confidence. Some at least. Something that had left her years ago and had to be clawed back. Hopefully it would be enough.

On the table in front of her was the final piece:

Eisdunst; her backsword.

It had been years since she had seen it, let alone held or worn it.

It was from a different time, when she was a different woman.

When she had attended Atlas Academy. Before he convinced her stop, never to graduate.

When she left all of her friends, except James, who Jacque had also taken a liking to.

He had claimed that it was because it was dangerous and he couldn't bear the thought of her getting hurt. Willow now knew that that was a lie like so many others. It was just about controlling her.

Willow had loved that man. The suave young gentleman who swept her off her feet. He was always kind, offering any help that he saw she may need. He always offered to pay despite how much wealthier her family was than his.

Little things, like remembering which foods she liked best so quickly showed how much he cared she had thought. He could make her laugh, and unlike so many she had met, his joke were never cruel to anyone.

He treated her like person, more than any of the other suitors that had come not for her, but for her name.

Oh, how she was in love.

In love with the man he pretended to be.

It had been the best day of her life when he proposed, but not long after eclipsed by the birth of their baby girl.

It hadn't been long since her father had passed, so he offered to take up her position at the company, so she could spend more time with the baby. She only saw it as his sacrifice for her.

But that was when the cracks started to show.

Lies.

Decisions made behind her back.

A temper that she hadn't seen in the years she had spent with him.

The company had been no saint under her father, but now. . .

He always had an excuse, and she believed them at first.

Through two more children and almost two decades.

She still loved him.

But the fights got worse. He put everything into the company, and nothing to his family.

He gave nothing real to her anymore.

But underneath it all, she thought that there still was that man she loved.

Until that day. The worst day of her life.

How could he have said that? They were fighting, more common now than it ever had been but still. . .

And on Weiss's birthday.

"I never loved you"

But when he had said it, she knew it was true. Willow had seen this man lie for nearly half her life, and although he was very good at it, this man knew how to make the truth hurt even more.

It was that night she had started drinking.

She couldn't sleep without it. It was easier to blackout than to cry one's self to sleep. At least then Willow wouldn't be crying in her dreams as well.

It wasn't until a few months later she finally worked up the courage, and made herself see the world for the lie she had been tricked into living for too long.

She had found him in his office, as usual. And Willow finally told that man what she had wanted to for months. They were going to get a divorce and she was going to take her company, her children, and her name with her.

The smile, that had brought joy and made her heart flutter, now flushed ice through her veins. He was calm, he must have know this was coming. When that smile parted he made his threat, and she could tell it was not an idle one.

He would take the children from her

Drinking had gotten the better of Willow on a few occasions at public events. It had been very embarrassing, but she hadn't seen it as more than that. Now he was threatening to use it and everything else as evidence against her, maybe even have her committed.

Unless she stayed in line. Stayed out of trouble and pretended to be the perfect Schnee she had always been.

And so she did.

Drinking the pain away. A mother who was physically there, but only that.

She had had Klein put the sword away in a moment of clarity after an accident with a dinner knife showed she couldn't be trusted with it. And what if she left it somewhere and the children found it?

One of the few good things she did in the haze that had consumed her waking life.

Time, too much of it, passed in that fog.

Winter renounced her inheritance after following in her footsteps to Atlas, but finishing and joining the military.

Weiss wanted to get even farther away, so went to Beacon when her time came.

Willow was so proud of her daughters. They had stood up to the man that she couldn't and were thriving. One was one of the most promising young officers in the military. James was a good friend, but he would never have favoured her so except for her own merit.

All her life Winter had tried so hard to be the perfect heiress and daughter. But she could never do it; it wasn't who she was. Every failing had eaten away at her, it got so much worse when her mother wasn't there to support her.

One night, Winter had broken down after her anxiety had gotten the best of her yet again, and her father had made sure to reminder her that she was a disgrace for letting it happen. That night Willow had talked to her daughter, trying hard to be sober doing so, and helped her decide that her path was not to be the one set before her. But it could be one of her own making. That was the last time Willow did something she was proud of.

And then there was her little girl, whom she had watched from the prison of her own making, was finally happy, at least mostly. Weiss wasn't lonely; that sad song she had heard at night, the one that only made her drink more, was no longer true.

When Weiss first came home she tried to talk about it with her mother, and Willow could remember most of it. She seemed to deeply care about her team, and from what Weiss had said they cared for her too. Another team had been almost as close, not to mention a few other friends and acquaintances who she held in varying regard.

Even if the Fall caused more pain for it, losing some of those she honestly called friends and being ripped away from the rest.

That was really the only time they had really spoken, despite the months she was home.

Now they were both gone again.

Winter had told her some before being redeployed somewhere, trying to keep her mother not completely in the dark. Willow knew that her eldest could remember best when she wasn't this way, and probably still loved for who she was.

The younger two. . . May not. And she couldn't blame them.

She had overheard what and how her own son talked to Weiss. Just like his father. And with what Winter had told her it made sense. Now Whitley was heir.

What Klein had told her was the worst of all. He had been almost as angry as her, but he was powerless to do anything about it.

The man behind the mask had hit her before. When she had embarrassed him mostly. He made sure not to leave bruises where others might see them.

But that fucker had laid a hand on her daughter, her little girl.

And now, he couldn't threaten to take away her three children. Because two had already left because of him. And now she had to save Whitley from that monster.

Willow picked up the blade, her hand was shaking and not just because it felt heavier than she remembered: it has been a day since her last drink. Everything hurt and she felt sick, but now she needed her head clear, even if it did ache terribly.

Klein had kept her weapon in great condition, it wasn't sharp but still gleamed like she remembered. She checked the barrel on the back of the blade to make sure it wasn't loaded. She didn't want any accidents.

In the polished blade she could almost see the woman that she use to be.

Willow sheathed Eisdunst and affixed it to her belt.

The walk to his office was not a long one, but one she had not made for a long time.

She had been assured no one else would be around and no one else would be in the office. Klein really was one of the few friends she had left, and a better parent than she or her husband had ever been.

One final obstacle remained, the door.

Fears plague her, telling her to go back. The memory of the threats and every time she had failed were near consuming.

But she had come so far now, and the price of another failure was not one she could continue paying.

Willow slammed the door open, initially barely eliciting a response from the figure seated behind the desk.

When he looked up, there was first confusion. And not a small amount of displeasure.

And then he saw what she was wearing.

But most of all her eyes.

The fire that he had smothered long ago was ablaze again.

"Hello Jacques, we need to talk."

[i-love-you3thousand]

Her Smile

Summary: After Steve lies to protect you, he realizes it wasn’t worth losing your smile.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 2,335

Warning(s): Angst, bad writing

A/N: Hey so I wrote this and I was like what if I just posted this on tumblr lol. Then I was like lol lets do that. It’s in steve’s pov idk why I did that but whatever it’s cool. Umm flashback is italisized. Idk if I’ll ever do this again idk we’ll see how this goes. If you like it tell me and maybe I’ll make something like this again. If you dont then like just dont idk whatever have fun.

I didn't expect to see her, not on this night, not at this party. She normally went out of her way to avoid parties. When we first met, she was doing exactly that, out on the balcony of this same building. Not now, though. No, now she lit up the room as she greeted people with a smile I missed more than anything.

I couldn't tear my eyes away from her, afraid that if I did, she would vanish, and I'd never see that smile again. "Tony," I grabbed the arm of the man beside me, pulling him away from his conversation.

"What?" he demanded, following my gaze. "Oh, right," he placed his arm on my shoulder and turned back around, apologizing to the people who no longer held his interest.

Half the team and I had been gone on a mission for two months, and now since we were back with a successful mission report, Tony decided to throw a party in our honor.  I was reluctant to go, and now I wish I had gone with my instincts.

"Y/N?" Someone called her name, and I watched as her eyes lit up and her mouth fell open.

"Wanda!" I could hear her call with the help of my super-soldier hearing. Wanda had been on the mission with us, and she seemed equally as surprised as me to see Y/N here. She ran through the crowd to give Wanda one of her signature hugs. I watched as she and Wanda spun around in glee, and I wished so badly that it was me. I wished that she would greet me with the excitement that she used to, that she would wrap her arms around me and scold me for being gone so long.

But I knew that wasn't going to happen.

"Cap, I'm sorry," Tony broke me out of my thoughts just as I felt a tear gently fall down my cheek. I quickly wiped it away, hoping he didn't notice, though I knew he did. "I completely forgot to tell you."

I finally tore my eyes away from her and gaped at Tony, "Wh- what is she doing here? Why didn't you tell me she was-"

I would have gone on, but he interrupted, "Listen, Steve." I closed my mouth and stared at him, waiting. He sighed before continuing, "She needed help. Didn't have a place to go-"

"So?" I interrupted, my voice getting a little louder than it should have. I had no right to be mad that she was here. This was just as much her house, her family, as it was mine. She should have been the one angry that I was there. Knowing all of this didn't stop me from yelling at Tony, though. "That's what Shield is for! They have plenty of safe houses," people were beginning to stare, and I swear I saw her head spin around. I didn't get to think about it long, though, because, in an attempt to isolate us, Tony pulled me back into the hallway of his tower. The few guests out there scattered when they saw him adorning a stern frown instead of his normal friendly smile.

Once he was sure no one could hear, he said in a very low voice, "Steve, Shield is what she's running from." I opened my mouth to say something, but he continued, "She didn't tell me much, said she found something out that she wasn't supposed to know. It doesn't matter. She's here. Deal with it."

"And how do you expect me to do that?" I glared at him.

"I don't know! Maybe tell her the truth?" he yelled, sarcasm dripping off his tongue, "You did what you had to that night, Steve. We all know that."

I starred down at my shoes, eyes blurring with tears, "You know I can't do that, Tony. It would hurt her too much."

Tony sighed and placed a hand on my shoulder, "Cap, you have to understand that her not being with you is hurting her way more than why she left in the first place."

My head whipped up, "You don't know that."

"She wouldn't have come here if she didn't miss you."

"But you said she came here because of-" he cut me off.

"I know what I said! That's the excuse she gave me," he sighed. "Steve, she's a strong girl, you and I both know that. She doesn't need us to protect her. If she wanted to stay away, she would've," he stared into my eyes, daring me to challenge him. When I didn't, he continued, "Listen, like it or not, she's gonna be staying here a while. You can either tell her what really happened and fix this, or you can pack your bags because she's staying, and I'm not letting her get hurt again." I didn't have a chance to reply before he spun on his heel and walked back into the party, replacing his frown with a smile to hide the conversation we just had.

What he said hurt me, but I deserved it. He was right; me being here was hurting both of us. I knew that I could never tell her the truth, so I decided leaving was the best option. If I stayed, it was only going to hurt her more. Running my fingers through my hair, I turned to do what Tony said and pack my bags.

I raised my hand to press the elevator button, but stopped cold when I heard a voice call behind me, "Steve?"

I cursed my hearing as I heard each one of her footsteps running to catch up to me. Then, once she was behind me, I heard the water droplets as they fell from her face and hit the floor. "Steve, look at me," she demanded, but I couldn't move, my hand still hovering in the air. "Steve!"

I turned but immediately regretted it as I saw her tear-streaked face. She looked exactly like she did the night I told her everything that had happened. My entire body chilled, and it felt like I was under the ice again as I remembered that night.

Dread filled my body as I walked through the tower, looking for the woman who took up 95% of my headspace. The rest of the team was still on the quin-jet, unloading everything from the mission. "FRIDAY, where’s Y/N?" I asked the A-I.

"The kitchen, waiting for you, I believe, Captain," she replied back to me in her robotic voice.

I nodded and made my way to the kitchen. She was sitting at the small island in the kitchen, a small mug in her hands and her head hung low. I stood in the doorway and gently knocked on the wall. Her head immediately snapped up, and she quickly jumped out of her chair and ran towards me.

"Steve," she breathed out as she hugged my body, collapsing in my arms. "What happened?" she pulled back to look me in the eyes, but I couldn't bring myself to look into hers. "You look awful," she raised a hand to cup my dirt and blood covered cheek. My hand gently found hers as I closed my eyes and leaned into her touch. I wished that it could always be like this, that I could always feel her touch on my skin, but I knew that, after tonight, it was very likely she would never want to see me again.

I sighed and pulled her hand from my face, taking a step back. "Y/N, there's something you need to know," I finally looked into her eyes, regretting my decision immediately after as I saw how much love and worry filled they were. I didn't deserve her worry, much less her love.

"You can tell me in the morning, Sweetheart," I flinched at the pet name. "You need rest right now. Besides, I'm not going anywhere," she smiled her beautiful smile that never failed to make my heart melt.

"You may change your mind about that once I tell you," her eyebrows furrowed and I felt my eyes grow glossy with tears.

"I highly doubt that, Steve," her smile faded, and I realized that it might have been the last time I would ever see it.

I simply shook my head before walking her into the living room and sitting her down on the couch beside me. "Steve, please. Whatever happened can wait 'till the morning," she pleaded with me, and I wished that I could wait until the morning. I wished that I could go take this uniform off and lie in bed with her head resting on my chest, that I could wake up to her peacefully resting beside me. It wasn't going to happen, though. Not tonight, and maybe not ever again.

"Y/N, we found your father," I told her, deciding to get it over with.

"You what?" she immediately jumped up, excitement filling her face. "Where is he? Is he here?"

I gestured for her to sit back down, "No, he's not here." I looked into her eyes, waiting for a reaction. When she didn't give me one, I continued, "He- he didn't make it out."

The excitement immediately dissolved from her face."What do you mean, Steve?" she said it in such a serious tone, a tone so rare it didn't even sound like her voice. I couldn't bring myself to answer her question, but she didn't need me to. "How? How did this happen?"

Tears blurred my vision as I thought back to the second mission we've ever failed. "They had starved him, beat him 'til he couldn't walk." I felt the tears I had been holding back finally begin to pour down my face. "We couldn't get him out in time," suddenly I couldn't breathe, the full gravity of the situation finally settling in on my shoulders.

Nothing we could've done would have saved him, but I couldn't tell her that.

"Steve." Her voice brought me back to reality, and I finally looked into her eyes. I had felt gunshots that hurt less. "You're sure he's gone?" Her words confused me, and I stared blankly into her eyes. "My father," she clarified. "You're sure he's gone?"

I looked down, "Yeah, he- he's gone." The words stung as they left my mouth, and I could only imagine how much they hurt her.

Suddenly, she stood up, tears streaming down her face. "I should've gone." She turned to walk away, but I stopped her before she could take a step.

"Y/N, no. You can't blame yourself for this," she looked into my eyes with so much hurt. I could see the guilt in her eyes, and all I wanted was for it to disappear. So, I did the only thing I could think of to take away the guilt I knew was on her shoulders: lie. "It- it was me. We could have left the second we found him. We should have, but we didn't. I gave the order to stay there and get the intel we originally went for. He got caught in the cross-fire."

More tears streamed down her face as she processed everything I had told her. It wasn't all a lie. We found her father and could have left and got him to a hospital, but we all knew he was too far gone. People would have died if we didn't get what we came for, so I told everyone to go on with the mission. If Y/N were there, she would've done the same thing, but I never told her that.

I watched as the guilt in her eyes transformed into hate. It hurt, but I knew how much more it hurt to blame yourself for the death of a loved one. I never wanted Y/N to feel that, and if hating me is what it took, then so be it.

She wiped the tears from her face and turned again to leave. I didn't stop her this time, and I watched as she left the tower. I wanted so bad to call out to her, to apologize, but I didn't. I knew it wouldn't do any good, wouldn't bring her father back.

"Y/N?" I breathed out, suddenly feeling very dizzy. I felt tears run down my face as I stared at her, frozen in place.

"Steve, I'm so sorry." I couldn't move as I stared into her glossy eyes filled with the same guilt I saw all those nights ago. The guilt that I had fought so hard to shelter her from. My mind raced to figure out why, but I didn't have to wait long for her to tell me. "I shouldn't have left. Those things you told me, I knew they weren't true. I- I should've known, but I didn't realize until it was too late. I'm so sorry."

My mind raced, barely processing what she had said. Her crying intensified so much she had to cover her mouth with her hands to stifle her sobs. I couldn't take it. This is exactly why I lied to her. I needed her not to feel this type of pain.

I grabbed her and pulled her into my arms. I held her the same way I used to when she had bad dreams. "I shouldn't have lied. I was trying to protect you," I could barely get the words out through my sobs, which were quickly intensifying.

"I'm so sorry," we said it at the same time, and I realized we had both been waiting months to do so.

She giggled and pulled back to look up at me, "Stop crying, Steve. Everything's okay now."

I nodded, "You forgive me?"

"There's nothing to forgive, Sweetheart," she answered as she cupped my face with her hands.

"I love you. So much," I turned to kiss one of her hands.

"I love you, too," she looked into my eyes and smiled the beautiful smile I had waited so long to see.

[doodlelolly0910]

Hate Me

A/N: So I totally know I'm behind on posting other things and that you guys are waiting on updates but the thing is I haven't been able to write literally anything for going on three weeks now. This hit me from out of nowhere and demanded to be written so here it is. Fair warning, read the tags. This is not a happy fic. Based on Hate Me by Blue October. Thank you so so much to @artistic-writer ​ for kicking me in the ass and encouraging me to post and also looking this over for me as well ❤❤

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

I have to block out thoughts of you so I don't lose my head

They crawl in like a cockroach leaving babies in my bed

Flickering recollections of blonde hair, musical laughter, and verdant, knowing eyes were strangled off with the pull of the tight elastic around Killian's bicep. Just one more time, he thought to himself. If Emma was here, her uncanny ability to detect a lie would have her alarms blaring at that notion.

A bent spoon sat nearby on the counter curled around a tealight candle, the viscous liquid in its shallow reservoir nearly bubbling. He blew out the flame and watched as smoke curled away from the wick and slowly dissipated.

He caught a glimpse of his face in the mirror above the sink he stood in front of, eyeliner from his last show still in place but smudged around his blue eyes, making them look even more hollow than usual. His cheekbones stood out sharper than they used to, his beard a little more unkempt, dark hair flopping into his eyes. He could hardly recognize himself. He looked away quickly, unable to bear the sight anymore, and turned back to the task at hand.

Dropping little reels of tape to remind me that I'm alone

Playing movies in my head that make a porno feel like home

Everyone had left hours ago, his bandmates off to the safety of slumber in their own hotel rooms. Like most nights for Killian Jones, sleep wouldn't come. That's how he found himself here. Emma was a thousand miles away and there was nothing to drown out the whisperings in his head of self loathing and inadequacy.

He picked up the sterile needle from the counter and uncapped it, flicking the little orange piece of plastic somewhere far into the recesses of nowhere he cared about. Who cared what housekeeping would think when they cleaned this up in the morning? This fix was all that mattered. He did the rest of it to himself, why not this, too?

There's a burning in my pride,

A nervous bleeding in my brain

An ounce of peace is all I want for you

Will you never call again?

He just wanted to hear her voice again. She'd begged him not to go, told him this tour would be the death of them. He'd thrown it back in her face, telling her this was his dream. He told her to come with him and God did he wish she would have. Or that he'd never left. Either of those options would have been better than what he was doing now.

He shook his head roughly, as if he could physically remove the thoughts rattling around in his brain. His resolve to shut everything out steeled within him as he dipped the sharp tip into the poison in the spoon and pulled back the plunger as he had a thousand times before.

And will you never say that you love me

Just to put it in my face?

And will you never try to reach me?

It is I that wanted space

The amount in the clear plastic column was slowly increasing, despite his shaky hands. He could feel his own heart rate begin to kick up in anticipation, a steady thumping in his chest that was a perfect mirror of the pounding thoughts in his head. When he was satisfied, he turned the needle upside down, watching as air bubbles floated through it like a lava lamp.

Images of the last time he was here rose up like bile in his throat. Emma screaming at him and hitting him in the chest, telling him that she loved him when he insisted no one could. She took more than she ever should have from him. And she loved him through it all. It was his own fault it hadn't been enough.

He squeezed the plunger on the needle, a dribble of fluid spurting from the top of it and he flicked the side of the plastic tube, making sure every trace of air was gone, along with every trace of the woman that once loved him.

Hate me today

Hate me tomorrow

Hate me for all the things I didn't do for you

Hate me in ways

Yeah, ways hard to swallow

Hate me so you can finally see what's good for you

He hoped that she was happy somewhere without him. He wanted her to hate him, but not to forget him and all the pain he caused her. It would be easier for her to hate him and stay away where he couldn't damage her any further that way. She would be better off without him, that was certain. Killian Jones never did anything halfway, and that included being a fuck up.

He never deserved her, and this just proved it. Hooking the needle into the crook of his ring finger, he pulled one end of the elastic tubing up to his mouth and took the other end in his free hand, pulling the ends taut and cutting off his circulation further. His fingers searched out a vein, tapping it lightly when he located one. He didn't even feel the sting of the needle as it pushed past his skin.

I'm sober now for three whole months,

It's one accomplishment that you helped me with

The one thing that always tore us apart

Is the one thing I won't touch again

The three months leading up to where he was now had been the best and worst of his life. He'd been using for years after his brother died, something that had eroded the relationship he built with Emma. He was selfish and impetuous in the depths of his addiction, Emma the only bright spot in his darkness. When he came home one Christmas Eve to find Emma and all her belongings gone, nothing left behind but an apologetic note saying she couldn't watch him kill himself anymore, he knew he had to change.

He’d gone to rehab for thirty days. If Killian believed in hell, he imagined it would be like that. He'd never been so sick in his life. Shaking, sweating, clammy skin, throwing up constantly, every square inch of his body aching so deeply he was sure he'd never recover, but none of that touched the pain of his broken heart. He resolved he would never touch drugs again if he could have Emma back.

When he came home, it was good. He apologized to Emma, but she was hesitant to believe him. He didn't blame her. He worked hard to earn her trust back and eventually, about two weeks after he left rehab, she came home.

In the month or so that followed, he and Emma had been stronger than ever. He felt alive again for the first time in years. Slowly, he let the aches and pains in his soul be soothed by her love instead of quick fixes. Every night he fell asleep with her in his arms, breathing in her scent, he thanked his lucky stars that she'd given him another chance.

It was all gone now as he stumbled back away from the sink. The latex around his arm loosened slightly and allowed the drug to begin its course through his bloodstream as he slumped against the wall and sank to the floor.

In a sick way I want to thank you

For holding my head up late at night

While I was busy waging wars on myself,

You were trying to stop the fight

The effect was instantaneous. He could practically feel his eyes dilating and his muscles going slack. The chemistry of his body began to change and euphoria took the place of aching sadness. The self doubt quieted.

Before he'd gone down the path to redemption, he'd chased this feeling incessantly. Blissful exhilaration filled the empty spaces and sealed the cracks of his broken heart. Killian closed his eyes and let the rolling ecstasy the high brought wash over him in waves. He never wanted to come down.

He knew he would come down eventually, though. That was the downside of this whole arrangement. He couldn't count how many times Emma had held his face above a toilet, trying to wake him up and keeping him from drowning in his own sick. Those moments he wasn't the proudest of, but it never stopped him from seeking more, craving that next high, doing whatever it took to get it.

No matter what the cost.

She was his savior in so many ways. On bad days when it felt like he would suffocate under the weight of his own depression, she was there to help him through it. He lied and stole from her to get a hookup, and she stood by him. She'd pulled him out of himself when he couldn't see anything else but the drugs and crippling sadness. He owed her his life, however worthless and miserable it may have been.

You never doubted my warped opinions

On things like suicidal hate

You made me compliment myself

When it was way too hard to take

There was never a question that Killian Jones hated himself. He was full of cockiness and bravado outwardly, an insatiable flirt, charming, friendly, the total package. Inside, he was a different man. One that wanted to hurt on the outside as much as he did on the inside.

It worked for a time. Before he was getting high, he got into fist fights at the pubs and was increasingly reckless with his body. Between bouts of the adrenaline rushes his injurious endeavors would lead him too, the true sadness settled into his soul. A friend of a friend offered him his first hit at a party celebrating the band's first record deal and Killian was instantly hooked. The heroin filled that void, if only for a short time.

Emma understood. She'd never experimented with self harm or drugs the way that he had, or at all, really, but she knew what it was like to have such a hollow sense of devastation in her soul that was near unshakeable some days. They'd lay awake all night some nights, her blonde hair splayed over his bare chest, the tendrils weaving with the dark curls there as they mused over mortality and the fragility of the human form.

But she would always end her musings with a soft smile, telling him that she really did love herself now. She knew she was strong and independent and all the things she had sought to be when she was young. And she would make him say it too.

“Aye, love,” he would tell her. “I'm a good person. I just hurt.”

Now, he chuckled ruefully from his place on the floor at the memory.

“Look at me now,” he said bitterly to the empty room. “The epitome of greatness.”

So I'll drive so fucking far away

That I never cross your mind

And do whatever it takes in your heart

To leave me behind

The best and worst thing about him leaving on this tour was the distance he was able to put between himself and Emma. She warned him if he left, she wouldn't be there when he returned. It was too soon in his recovery for him to be doing this. He knew it was. He thought he could be strong enough to hold it together, though, if he knew Emma was waiting for him when he came back home.

His obstinacy and foolhardiness ultimately led him to where he was now. He thought she'd give in, either come with him or wait for him. He was convinced this tour was the right thing for him and his band. All the way right up until Emma was walking out the door again.

He sighed, the plastic needle rolling out of his rapidly numbing fingertips and away from him on the floor. His eyes struggled for focus and his breaths became deeper, more labored, as he fought for consciousness.

This was something he hadn't experienced before.

Hate me today

Hate me tomorrow

Hate me for all the things I didn't do for you

Hate me in ways

Yeah, ways hard to swallow

Hate me so you can finally see what's good for you

“...He was here an hour ago, I swear. Maybe he's just taking a shower,” a voice Killian vaguely recognized permeated the thick haze he'd settled into from beyond the closed bathroom door. Robin, his best friend and drummer. His heartbeat began to feel sluggish in his chest as he let his head loll towards the source of the sound.

His heart nearly stopped altogether when he heard a response to his friend’s words from another voice he hadn't ever expected to hear again.

“It's okay, Robin. I can check,” Emma said and Killian began to panic. Emma was here. His Emma, light of his life, and he was drowning in the throes of darkness. He had to get up, had to cover this, she couldn't see him this way. She just couldn't. His arm twitched uselessly at his side, his body refusing to cooperate with his attempts to right himself and save her from seeing him like this again.

It had never been like this before. Something was very wrong.

His vision began to darken at the edges as the bathroom door clicked open and a horrified shriek filled the air.

“Killian, oh my God, no, no, NO!”

And with a sad heart, I say bye to you and wave

Kicking shadows on the street

For every mistake that I had made

“Killian, open your eyes. Killian, please,” Emma begged. He felt her hands come up to frame his face, her fingers tapping firmly against one of his cheeks. From the last vestiges of his awareness, he somehow summoned the strength to comply. Tears were flowing freely down her face and she gave a wobbly smile as his eyes fluttered open.

“Hey, hey, you're okay,” she said, a false brightness to her words, sobs catching on every syllable. “Just stay with me, okay? Don't close your eyes.” It was all he could do to keep his dimming blue eyes fixed on her watery green. The pain and fear that had taken up residence there was almost more than he could bear. He couldn't believe she was actually here with him.

“I need an ambulance at the Atlantic Cove Hotel. My friend, he's… he's overdosed…” Robin said frantically into the phone pressed to his ear. Killian could hear him speak, but it was of little consequence. All that existed for him in that moment was Emma. “Uh, heroin, I believe. His girlfriend is trying to keep him awake… Yes, room 154, please hurry...”

And like a baby boy,

I never was a man

Until I saw your green* eyes cry,

And I held your face in my hand

And then I fell down yelling,

"make it go away!"

“God dammit, Killian, why? What did you do?!” Emma screeched, batting the needle away from where they sat and pulling the rubber tubing off of his arm. She was unable to keep the devastation and hopelessness from her tone as she checked him over, her chest heaving with panicked sobs.

He couldn't believe she was here with him. He couldn't believe he was doing this with her again. And this time, he was losing in the worst possible way. He wasn't sure even she could save him now.

“You can't fucking leave me, you hear me? You are not allowed to do this,” she told him. He almost wanted to laugh at the absurdity of her demands. Instead, a tear tracked down his cheek and buried itself in the overgrown stubble lining his jaw. She seized his hand and pressed it to her own tear stained cheek. “Please don't leave me Killian. You can't. Not now. I can't do this on my own.”

A lump rose in his throat, strangling the shallow breaths he was drawing further as he flexed his fingers against her face, just wanting to feel her.

“God, make this stop,” he slurred. “Make it go away…”

Just make her smile come back

And shine just like it used to be

And then she whispered,

"How can you do this to me?"

“Ambulance is on its way,” Robin told Emma. His eyes flickered over to Killian's face, wide and full of fear at what was happening to his friend. He still had the phone pressed to his ear, listening to instructions the operator was relaying to him.

Killian was losing the battle, of that he was certain. Each blink of his eyes lasted longer than the last. The words in the room became garbled and far away. Suddenly, he couldn't remember the last time he opened his eyes.

“Killian!” Emma was screaming now. “Killian wake up! Don't you fucking dare! Don't you dare! Please!”

“Mate!” Robin’s voice was much closer now, and Killian could feel his body pliantly shifting under the force of a large hand shaking his shoulder. “Bloody hell, he's not breathing!”

“How could you do this to me?” Emma whispered against his ear.

Hate me today

Hate me tomorrow

Hate me for all the things I didn't do for you

Hate me in ways

Yeah, ways hard to swallow

Hate me so you can finally see what's good for you

Killian no longer felt anything except for the awareness of movement as consciousness faded. All sensation was gone from his limbs as he was pulled away from the wall and splayed out on the tiled floor. A weight shifted on top of him and pressure built on his chest, a force driving into it over and over and over. Voices blended together and lips sealed over his, foreign air filling his lungs.

Banging sounded out and someone was prying open his eyes, his vision filling with a bright light and faces he didn't recognize. Emma stood nearby in Robin's arms, his embrace seemingly the only thing that was keeping her upright. Her hands were tented over her mouth and her shoulders shook with the force of her muffled cries as the paramedics continued to work on him, resuming the repetitive pressure on his chest.

He wanted to apologize, he wanted to tell Emma to leave, he wanted to never have gone down this road again. He wanted so many things. Sparks in his brain began misfiring and all he could see was Emma. Until he could see nothing at all.

God, he hoped she hated him now. Maybe then she could move on.

For you

For you

For you

[margri3t]

Ereri secret santa!

Hello everyone! It’s finally posting time for the Ereri secret santa and I am very excite. I’ve had this fic ready to go for over a month now XD. Basically @thes0ulreader is my secret santa!!! and bc I’m speedy my posting # is #1!

You can read it here on ao3 or keep reading down below!

A week before Christmas and I’ve got the fucking flu. This wouldn’t be a problem if it weren’t for the fact that every year our orchestra celebrates Christmas by holding a concert each day for a week. The turnout is always massive. If my flu doesn’t magically disappear by 2pm, the orchestra won’t have a first violinist. My boyfriend Eren on the other hand seems to have some sort of magical immunity to illness. He was spending the morning looking after me to his best abilities even though I told him time and time again that he should be spending the morning practising Double bass instead. Even if I did enjoy the pampering, there was a 99% chance that Eren would have to go to the concert without me.

“It’s such a shame you won’t be there to help me carry things…” Eren loved to tease me, using if often as a way to distract me from whatever was upsetting me. This meant he could tell I wasn’t happy being stuck at home and wanted reassurance that I was okay. Best way to do that was tease back…

“I wouldn’t have helped anyway, it’s your fault for choosing such a large instrument in the first place. People think you’re compensating for something.” I said with a sniff, grabbing a tissue from the nightstand.

“But you know I’m not!” I could tell from the singsong tone that he was relaxing. Thank god. I didn’t want him to stress over me when he should be focusing on music.

When Eren felt my forehead the previous good mood disappeared. Fuck.

“You’re boiling, I’ll get you a cold compress.”

“No you won’t, I’ll do it myself. Now enough with you, you’ve got two hours until you’ve got to leave. Go practise.” Illness be damned, if he didn’t go practise himself, I’d drag him there.

“If you insist. But please be careful, overworking yourself now will only slow your recovery.” With that Eren stood up and planted a kiss on my lips before leaving.

A few minutes later I heard the soft sounds of music resounding from downstairs. Honestly that man does too much for me, the amount of tenderness in his eyes before he left was painful. Thoughts of christmas started to fill my mind and I thought about the small box that was currently hidden deep underneath the christmas tree. Would he say yes? Was just the ring enough? I had played with the idea of arranging a piece for the proposal before, but never found the time to actually do it. Could it be that my illness was actually a blessing in disguise? I was well enough that I could still play, the only problem keeping me from going to concerts was a fever and coughing fits. Maybe I could use the free time to prepare something special for Eren? He really did deserve to know how much I loved him.

I decided for now it was best to get some rest and let Eren’s quiet playing lull me to sleep. Due to my insomnia I had difficulty doing this especially because Eren wasn’t but my side. Over the past two years we’d been dating I found that he helped me sleep better. But hearing him play helped to some extent.

~~~

I woke up a few hours later to find a note on the nightstand:

Levi,

It’s good to see you’re getting some rest, even if I can’t look after you right now I trust you’ll be okay. You already know this but I’ll be back by 9. Get well soon!

He really was too sweet, it made my heart ache.

With slight difficulty I got out of bed and headed to the music room to grab some blank music sheets. My first goal was to have a loose violin arrangement made for the end of the day. I decided that the piece I’d be playing was the waltz from swan lake. Eren loved waltzes. Every time he heard one he made me dance with him and because my dancing abilities were subpar, it always ended in a fit of laughter and possibly me on the floor.

When I sat down at the piano I started to get extremely cold, so I quickly rushed upstairs to get a blanket. Back downstairs and comfortable, I started writing. Listening to the music and playing a couple notes on the piano before writing what I wanted down. It seemed I’d have to get Eren’s mother in the mix. I needed a pianist and she played beautifully. So after a few more hours and eventually a loose draft of what I wanted, I called her…

“Hello Levi!” Carla sounded as cheery as ever.

“Hi Carla! How are you?” Eren’s mother loved talking so I might as well ask.

“I’m great thank you, but why are you calling me? Is this about your little proposal plan?” I had already asked for her blessing a few weeks ago, earning a bear hug and squealing. After which she bombarded me with questions.

“Well yes. I wasn’t planning to do this but now it seems I have time to, would you please help me by accompanying a piece? It’s short notice and I’m sorry but I know you’re talented enough.”

“Well of course Levi! I’ve got nothing better to do this week and I would just love to see my boy say yes! When and where do you need me?” Over excited as usual.

“Well if you could come by tomorrow at 2:30 we could take a look at it together?” Eren would be gone by then.

“Sounds perfect.”

~~~

Eren was correct, due to the fact I hadn’t been resting, my illness stretched across the whole week. I was upset that I missed the concerts, but glad I could get the extra practice time. So when Christmas came around I was hopeful I could make this a day Eren would never forget. The past five days had been stressful even without the humongous weight of 1000 eyes on you as you play ‘Mary do you know?’. Eren’s mother had the skill but was worried that she wouldn’t have it ready in time, of course eventually she had it perfected (by eventually I mean after a day) that women was a fucking monster when it came to music. No one in the community loomed quite as large…meaning that when she retired, everyone was upset. Her reasoning had been that she ‘wanted to find a way to associate piano with fun again instead of work’ which I could completely understand. Burnouts were far to common in the music community.

Even just playing the song through I could imagine Eren dancing, and it was as much of a distraction as it was beautiful. So I decided it was best to clear my head when I played, thinking of nothing else than how much I loved the man who showed me so much kindness.

~~~

8am, Christmas Day, and a quiet notification wakes me. Eren’s mother is at the front door. I sneak out of bed the best I can and slip on some clothes before heading downstairs. The bolts on the door are far too loud, contrasting harshly with the almost eerie silence of the rest of the house. Eren’s mother hugs me silently and I let her in, immediately she heads to the music room to set up. I grab the ring box from underneath the tree and slip it into my pocket. Afterwards I motion for Carla to come to the kitchen and make some coffee. Nerves are starting to get to me.

My hands are shaking and honestly it’s so terrifying, I’ve never felt this nervous before. But you can’t blame me, I’m about to ask the biggest question of my life to the most important man of my life. My mind started to wander about all the things that could give Eren a reason to say no. We’d fallen out before, just like every couple. But I didn’t think there was anything extreme…Maybe he never loved me in the first place, is our whole relationship just a lie? What if-

I felt Carla’s hand wrap around mine. Fuck. She could tell I was nervous. How was I going to live through this without fucking up? By the end of the day Eren would be gone. I’m sure of it. Even if it really hurts, why would he even bother staying if I can’t get his proposal right?

“Levi, Eren really loves you. I know you’re nervous but he’s not going to care how you propose. At the end of the day what matters is the fact that you want to marry him and he wants the same.” Carla read my mind.

“But what if he doesn’t?”

“If you can’t see how smitten he is with you you must be blind. I can even tell just from his voice! He calls me sometimes and every time it’s ‘Levi did this’ ‘Levi was so cute yesterday’ and so on. Look, don’t tell him I said this, but after just a month of knowing you he told me he thought you were the one.” I would never believe that. Ever.

“Lies and deceit.”

“Trust me it’s true!” Just as Carla said this I heard footsteps upstairs, Eren was awake. Now I was certain we only had 30 minutes till show time. Eren always took a shower in the mornings and normally it took around 30 minutes. I started to shake again.

Whilst Carla and I waited we made breakfast, that way we could have a ‘small celebration’ afterwards. But those were Carla’s words and not mine. We decided to just make omelette as later on in the day we’d be having a big Christmas dinner at Carla’s house. We were done round about 15 minutes later and placed a plate over the food so it wouldn’t cool down too much. Upstairs I heard Eren step out the shower. Fuck. He was being fast today. Carla gave me a look and dragged me to the music room to set up my violin. We started tuning and so on, making sure to listen closely for footsteps upstairs. I knew he could probably hear me, meaning he would be down fairly fast.

Lo and behold, 5 minutes later, there he was…

“Levi…what is this? Why is my mum here?” Damn, questions he’d get answers to soon but still made me question myself.

“I prepared a piece for you for Christmas. So shh and just listen.” My harsh attitude made Eren chuckle which in return caused my heart to flutter. Fuck. Breathing in steadily, I raised my bow and locked eyes with Carla for a moment before beginning to play.

I wasn’t normally one to get stage fright, so the feeling of drowning was definitely new, nevertheless I swam up. Only letting my playing falter for half a second before getting it under control. I had to put all my emotion into this. Let Eren feel how I feel through my music. Funnily enough, it was easy to compare my relationship with Eren to the music I was playing. We had managed to find calm within each other’s arms. All our stresses melting away. Of course there was bound to be problems, just like how the song itself was bound to become louder, but it would always return to a calm. I could see a grin spread across Eren’s face and his eyes flash in recognition. Perfect. Why was he so fucking perfect? Somehow Eren also looked pained, like he was itching to do something. When I saw his foot tap I realised what it was, he wanted to dance. It was hard to dance a waltz alone. Guess I’d have to beg Carla to play again later without me so we could dance.

Eventually I reached the end of the piece, finishing with a flourish of my bow.

Eren looked so happy.

Here goes nothing.

I placed down my violin silently and knelt down on one knee, slowly grabbing the ring box from my pocket.

“Eren you amazing, beautiful, crazy man,” My voice cracked. Fuck. “Will you marry me?” Eren was on the brink of tears, was he upset? Happy? Angry? Levi why can’t you even tell what your own boyfriend is thinking?

“In what universe would my answer ever be no?” Eren laughed and all I could do was get lost in his eyes. Amazing. I didn’t even register the fact Eren was helping me stand until I was firmly standing on two feet. Placing down the box, I grabbed Eren’s hand and slipped the ring onto his finger. It was a simple silver band with green crystals? Gems? I didn’t know. Honestly the only thought I had about the ring was that it matched his eyes amazingly.

“Finally! One step closer to grandchildren!” Of course Carla had to say that.