#because I don’t think I’m going to drown or be swept away in it (I am so scared of losing my identity in a sea of information)
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There was only one thing that could have dragged Steve out of bed at two in the morning when he was nursing a booze-induced headache and an Eddie Munson-induced heartache.
“We need you,” she said.
He didn’t even bother putting on a jacket.
***
Dustin was sloppy, red-eyed and so unsteady that when Steve thunked a strong hand down on his shoulder, he almost lost his balance turning away from the group of asshats he’d taken up with to see who had grabbed him. Some of the drink in his hand sloshed over the sides of the cup and dribbled down the front of his shirt and onto the already filthy kitchen floor.
“Hey, what the—” he began, and then he dragged his gaze up to land on Steve.
There was a time, not so very long ago, when those same eyes would’ve lit up at the sight of his babysitter slash idol slash best friend. He would wrap him in a hug if it had been a day or two since he’d seen him, or sling a companionable arm around him, or punch him good-naturedly in the arm in hopes of initiating a play scuffle, which inevitably ended with him in a headlock getting his mop of curls aggressively tousled because he was just never going to have any kind of athletic edge on Steve.
But now.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” the younger boy asked in a tone so sharp and cold and so very NOT-Dustin that it made Steve’s heart squeeze painfully in his chest.
“Hey, man,” Steve said, aiming for casual if only to keep Dustin from embarrassing himself in front of his new asshat friends. “Can I talk to you? Step outside with me for a sec, okay?”
“Um, no,” Dustin bit out. “This’s my party, i'ss my house. It would be rude to leave my guests.”
“Yeah, since you brought that up … who are these people?” Steve swept his gaze over the Henderson kitchen, which was almost unrecognizable with all of the clutter, displaced furniture, and wasted teenagers. “And Dustin … where’s your mom?”
“Not here.”
“Well yeah, I kind of gathered that. Listen, Dust…”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Are the others here?”
“Oh, you mean the traitors who called and ratted me out to YOU? Who the fuck cares?” His voice lowered to what he seemed to think was a conspiratorial level but was really just an extremely loud stage whisper. “Maybe they tripped and fell and landed their buzzkill asses back in the Upside Down.”
“Okay, that’s it.”
Before Dustin could protest, the cup was plucked from his hand and tossed expertly across the room, over the heads of several unwary drunken youths and into the crusty-dish-crowded sink and he was being towed along behind Steve through the kitchen, the living room, out the front door.
“What the fuck, Harrington? Let go of me! Let go!” Dustin struggled against the vise grip on his bicep but only succeeded in ensuring he’d probably have finger-shaped bruises there tomorrow.
Steve paid him no mind until he had deposited the boy into the passenger seat of his car, slammed the door, and locked it. Then he walked around to the driver’s side, unlocked it only long enough to get in, relocked it, and turned to Dustin.
“First of all,” he began loudly, drowning out Dustin’s sputtering attempts to find the words he wanted to hurl at Steve in his outrage at being manhandled out of his own party. “First of all. Joking about the Upside Down in a room full of strangers? NOT OKAY.”
“They don’t even know what—”
“Not. Fucking. Okay. SECOND, if you ever imply again that one of ours should BE in the Upside Down, you will find yourself with my foot so far up your ass you’ll choke on my shoe, and if you think I’m joking about that, Dustin, try me.”
This time there was only an eye-roll from Dustin, because he kind of didn’t want to try Steve on that point and because he kind of felt bad about saying it.
“Third, your friends are not traitors. They care about you and they’re worried about you; they called me for help because you’re treating them like shit and shut down every attempt they make to help you. Listen, I know I’m not your favorite person right now, Dustin, but you have to let someone help you. You’re not okay, buddy. This isn’t you. And all this shit you’re doing, the drinking and the partying and the pretending not to give a damn? It isn’t going to fix anything. It … it won’t bring him back.”
“Shut up!” Dustin shouted, flinching so hard at the words that he smacked the back of his head against the side window. Steve winced at the sound of skull meeting glass and resisted the urge to reach out and check for blood, or a bump. Dustin seemed not to have noticed that he’d nearly brained himself, infusing his next words with all the venom he could muster. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, Steve. Even if you were right, it’s none of your business what I do! I am none of your business.”
“Don’t say shit like that, Dustin. Of course you’re my business.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah! What are you saying?”
Dustin barked out a humorless laugh. “As much as I’d like to sit here with you and have a heart to heart right now, I have to get back to my guests.”
“No,” Steve snapped, reaching over Dustin to slap down the peg lock when the teen yanked it up. “We’re not done here. Now I can go inside and clear out your house and we can talk there, or you can drop the bullshit and talk to me right now.”
“You’re not shutting down my party.”
“Then we talk here.”
“I have nothing to say to you.”
“Right, sure you don’t. Maybe I can give you some words, then. How about this, Dustin? How about: ‘Hey, Steve, you useless idiot loser, you promised to keep us safe and then you fucked it all up like you always do. The plan didn’t work and Max got hurt and Eddie fucking died, and you couldn’t stop it. I hate you for that, for lying and making us feel safe and telling us it was going to be okay. I can’t even look at you anymore and I hate my friends because they don’t hate you for some reason, but we know, don’t we? We know whose fault it is that we came back a man short. It’s yours, Steve. Yours.’” Steve’s voice was cracked and painful, like he’d been eating gravel and chasing it with cheap whisky and cigarettes. It hurt, that voice. “How’s that, Dust?” he finished, staring unflinching into Dustin’s shocked eyes. “Am I in the ballpark?”
Before Steve could react, Dustin unlocked his door and flung himself out of the car. He was drunk and it was dark, though, and he only made it a few yards before tripping and landing hard on the grass. Steve was on him almost instantly, hauling him up by the arms and scanning him for injuries.
He didn’t see the punch coming, wouldn’t have believed Dustin Henderson capable of such an effective hit, right in the mouth, knocking him back a couple of feet. “Jesus, Dustin!” he shouted, touching his lip and staring dumbfounded when his fingers came away wet with blood. “What the fuck, man?”
“Hit me back.”
“What? No! Dustin, what’s—”
“HIT ME BACK, STEVE! You have to!” Dustin’s voice cracked, the sudden violent burst of emotion threatening to unleash something big and scary and unforgivable. A tidal wave that had a name.
Steve grappled wildly with the boy, trying to grab his flailing arms so he could pin him, but Dustin was surprisingly swift in his current state, and he launched another punch, this one landing heavy in Steve’s gut and socking the breath right out of him.
“HIT ME, STEVE! I KNOW YOU WANT TO, JUST DO IT!”
Fueled by a burst of frustration and a sharper burst of fear (what is this?), Steve recovered enough to trap Dustin’s arms against his body, using his own weight to twist the boy around until he was trapped with his back against Steve, the hold immobilizing him so all he could do was squirm and shout out his fury. “LET ME GO FUCK YOU STEVE WHY WON’T YOU JUST FIGHT BACK YOU ASSHOLE?!”
“Dustin, stop. Stop it. Breathe, Dustin. Take a breath. No, hey, stop. You’re not going anywhere until you calm down for me. Breathe. Shhh, buddy. Breathe,” Steve’s hold was unbudging, his tone stern but soothing. Dustin’s violent struggles gradually slowed, and it took a couple of minutes for Steve to realize that the boy was shaking with silent sobs. And then the sobs became words, almost indecipherable in the wrecked, wretched voice that was rough and strained from screaming.
Every sentence Steve parsed from the stream of horrible self-accusations added another crack to his heart, which couldn’t have been more than a mess of spiderwebbing at this point.
It’s my fault.
He’s dead because of me.
I couldn’t save him.
You loved him, I know you did.
Why don’t you hate me?
Why don’t you hate me?
Why don’t you hate me?
Finally, finally, the words stopped and Dustin sagged, exhausted, in Steve’s arms. Only then did Steve ease up on his hold, but only long enough to turn the boy around and hug him properly. He bent down to bury his face in the unruly curls, his own tears falling unchecked and inconsequential.
“Dustin,” he whispered into the mop of hair. “Oh, Dustin, never.”
And when he realized he didn’t have the right words, he just stopped. He just picked Dustin up and carried him to his car, buckled him into the passenger seat, and told him he would be right back. He had a party to break up, some kids to chase away, and a boy—his boy—to mend.
“You loved him, I know you did.”
With a soul-cleansing breath that sounded more like a sob, Steve made his way back up to the Hendersons’ house.
#stranger things#found family#protective steve harrington#mama steve#dustin henderson#fanfiction#steddie#mom steve harrington#steve harrington#steve and his children#grieving over Eddie#survivor guilt#poor dustin#poor steve#unhealthy coping mechanisms#arm wrestling for the blame#angst#oh the angst#in my heart Eddie survived but this scene wouldn’t leave me alone
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Hi! Ok so I don't know if I late to your Adele Song Tribute (if I am that's totally alright!) but if you still have space what about something for Tommy or Jonathan with the song Skyfall? Maybe something about reader standing by her man/comforting him when everything seems to be falling part? I think it's one of my favourite songs of hers and not just because I love the James Bond movie of the same name😂 you totally don't have to to though if you don't want too❤️❤️
Hey Addie! Don’t worry you’re never late 🤗 thank you so much for sending in this request! It’s the first one of the ones I got that I started worked with because I particularly LOVE that song and watching the performance to get inspiration is something I really enjoy! ♥️ so I hope you like this 🥰
The lyrics for the song are in italics. As I was debating whether what background story to choose from to develop this story, I had like a moment flashing before my eyes… I definitely enjoyed writing a dark Tommy story for “The way to a man’s heart” but the thought kept coming back to me, how about the opposite? How about someone who actually loves him and wants to help him and his family? So I turned everything upside down and came up with this.
Adele song: Skyfall
Skyfall
Tommy Shelby x reader (smut)
This is the end
Hold your breath and count to ten
Silence.
That’s all that filled the halls.
For this is the end
I've drowned and dreamt this moment
So overdue, I owe them
Swept away, I'm stolen
Y/N took a deep and shaky breath to build some courage and walked towards the love of her life.
Tommy had been staring at the road the police cars took after arresting Polly, Arthur, John and Michael, but they were long gone.
She’d never forget the look in their faces as they were processing what was happening; everything was caos, the people she considered her chosen family yelling, cursing Tommy, trying to find a way out. She felt useless.
Let the sky fall
When it crumbles
Esme and Linda were looking at Tommy with such anger, that it made her heart ache for him. Jaws clenched, pointing fingers at him as they were escorted out of the house.
We will stand tall
Face it all together
Let the sky fall
Softly she touched his shoulder to let him know she was close.
“Tom.” She could hardly even her own voice. “Come.”
It took a huge strength from her to snap Tommy out of his trance.
“Frances can you please prepare me a tea for Mr. Shelby? Lavender or Valerian Root… double.”
“Right away Madame.” The maid nodded and rushed towards the kitchen.
“I need to be alone.” Tommy mumbled as he stood in front of the staircase.
“No.” She stated firmly. “I’m -” her voice broke down a bit, “I’m right here for you Tom.”
“Y/N please,” he replied in that warning tone he used when he was about to loose his patience, “I’m not a very good company at the moment.”
Skyfall is where we start
A thousand miles and poles apart
Where worlds collide and days are dark
She could see the pain in his eyes, and it was the hardest thing to endure.
Tommy had stepped up for his family since a very young age, he worked really hard for everyone, put everything single member of the family before him or his needs… it was time to make him a priority.
She couldn’t look another way and pretend he was alright.
Because he wasn’t, but he didn’t know how to ask for help either.
With all the love she held in her heart for this man she kneeled before him, Tommy didn’t lift his head as it was hanging close to his knees, he looked defeated.
“You got this, Tom, love,” gently but with a firm hand, Y/N lifted his chin to make him look at her, “this seems like a very dark time and that everything’s going the wrong way, but you always find a way to make it better, you always find a way out.”
“They hate me, Y/N as if they needed one more reason… there was nothing I could do to stop them from going to fucking jail.”
“I know darling.”
“All of this…” he extended his arms while looking around the room, “money, power, and for what? They’re in a fucking prison cell, the size of a shoebox. Someone else paid the judges and police more than I did.”
Where you go, I go
What you see, I see
“That’s where you’re wrong, my darling… you can use it to get your position back, if they got your family in prison and they want to play dirty? But you can play smarter than your enemies, I know you will get your family out of jail soon.”
That seemed to work on him, his features were softer, his shoulders weren’t so tense.
“What would I do without you? Ey?” His thumb outlined her cheek.
“Drive Frances crazy?” Y/N joked earning a small chuckle from Tommy that felt like the sweetest thing ever. “Now, I know it’s almost impossible, but have some rest, it will help you think better in the morning.”
“Will it work if I say no?” Tommy tried, knowing the answer before he even opened his mouth.
“Absolutely not.” She slapped his arm lightly before extending her arms towards him to ask for help to get up.
Getting rid of his suit jacket she placed it carefully on the chair, then Tommy let her unbutton his vest and shirt, but first she needed to get rid of the holster and gun.
His mind was going down in a spiral with worry, fears, the monsters inside his head, the tunnel closing up while he tried to reach the stairs to get out… but there right next to him was a woman who trusted him, who believed in him, who was trying to be the light in his darkness.
The only one he could trust to disarm him, both physically and emotionally.
Before he knew it, she tucked him in bed now only wearing his shorts, then she took a cigarette and the matches and lighted it for him, knowing so well he needed a smoke.
“I won’t take long, don’t go anywhere.” She requested right before pressing her full lips to his.
There was only one way to make that mind of him go numb.
He needed to think straight to choose his next move, but he wouldn’t be able to do so when he was in that altered state.
So she removed her skirt and blouse, applied some perfume and subtle lipstick and walked out of the bathroom wearing only her intimate pieces of clothing, a silky short in pale pink with a touch of black lace and matching bra.
As she slowly and tentatively walked towards the empty side of the bed, Tommy was under some kind of spell, his eyes devouring her body.
He was in the same position she left him; the sheets around his waist, bare chest and leaning against the headboard.
Still looking vulnerable after the horrible events of the day, but in his eyes she found a small flame starting to grow with each step she took. As it grew Tommy licked his lips in preparation of what was coming, he was aware of the power Y/N held over him once the bedroom door was closed.
His mind was already in blank as she straddled him, her fingers running up and down his chest. Tommy’s hands immediately circled her waist as he looked up with adoration in his eyes.
“Y/N what are you doing?” Tommy asked in a whisper, his body reacting as she rocked her hips slightly, tempting him, barely brushing against his member.
“Taking off my clothes.” Y/N replied in an innocent voice as if it wasn’t obvious.
Tommy groaned in pleasure as her upper body wasn’t covered anymore. He only dared to close his eyes a moment as she took off his glasses very carefully and placed it on his nightstand. He hissed as she took again her previous spot on him, leaning down to finally give him a proper and deep kiss.
As his mouth explored her neck and collarbone, his hands removed her underwear. A moment later, she was helping him out of his shorts. The atmosphere getting heated rapidly… it wasn’t long before Y/N was rocking her hips back and forth, teasing Tommy, just allowing the tip of his cock inside of her body, as Y/N moved an inch down only to move up again almost all the way out. He protested and tried to move her body down again, he needed her warm walls envelope him.
I know I'd never be me
Without the security
Of your loving arms
“Fuck… Y/N.” He moaned and to her it was the most beautiful sound.
But she wasn’t going to give in, just as Tommy tried to grind her against his hard member, she moved up again. The burning feeling between her legs only adding more pleasure.
“Not yet dear.” She enjoyed the half empty feeling of just having his tip inside and decided to change her pace and angle by making circles with her hips.
Tommy was weak when it came to her, there was no use in trying to deny it, but when it involved her naked, he would do anything she wanted him to.
“Please… I can’t hold it.” She noticed the beads of sweat on his forehead, how tense his jaw was, his beautiful blue eyes closed and felt the rhythm of his heart against her palm.
That’s when she finally in a fluid moment took all of him, his eyes snapped open and a low fuck escaped his lips as he could only focus on the fluttering feeling around him. Y/N controlled her movements to prolong her own pleasure. Throwing her head back she gave in the feeling of being connected so intimately to Tommy, hitting the sweet spot inside of her over and over and suddenly watching him with his mouth hanging open, the veins on his neck pulsing, groaning and trying to not come undone before her it was too much.
“Don’t hold back.” Y/N encouraged him as she guided one of his hands to her center, where she needed him, his skilled fingers set her on fire in mere seconds and they both reached the climax together.
***
By the end of the night, Tommy was exhausted, Y/N noticed when the rhythm of his breathing changed and he stopped clearing his sore throat after too many cigarettes. She didn’t dare to move to make sure from her current position; head resting on his chest, his arm around her waist. But at least she achieved her main goal… make him feel tired enough to get some sleep.
She knew he would deal with everything in the morning with a clear head, but for now she only wanted to enjoy the feeling of his lean body relaxed, his deep breaths helping her to relax as well.
Keeping me from harm
Put your hand in my hand
And we'll stand
The following morning when Y/N opened her eyes, she noticed Tommy wasn’t in bed with her but she could hear him moving around the bathroom so picking his undershirt from the floor, she tiptoed towards him finding Tommy tucking his shirt inside his pants.
“Morning Mr. Shelby, slept well?”
“Like a baby, you wore me out.” There was a hint of a smile, before returning to his usual serious expression.
“I’m coming with you to the office.” Y/N announced, but before Tommy could protest, she added; “think you probably need some extra hands these days.”
Tommy swallowed watching her strip down to enter the shower. “Thank you.”
She’d choose to tease him for accepting help so easily, but given the circumstances she decided to pass on and hurry up, without his family around the work and papers would pile up.
“Can you take over Polly’s calendar?” Tommy asked as they rushed towards the door.
“Sure.”
“Ada will help us as well, I need to go out during lunch though, I asked Michael to do something but…” he trailed off and let the words hanging in the air.
As the car left Arrow House, Y/N squeezed his hand in an attempt to give Tommy some reassurance. On their way to the Shelby headquarters, Y/N helped him sign a couple of documents and a letter, as the ride went in silence, she knew he was already making a plan so she decided to give him time and space to do what he did best.
As soon as Tommy crossed the door Lizzie and other secretaries and employees were trying to figure out what would happen now, uncertainty decorating their features. Everyone following his instructions, not asking questions, they were just obeying his orders, he was back to being the boss once more, not showing an ounce of emotion, of course he wouldn’t show the vulnerable side Y/N saw the previous night.
Y/N marched to the kitchen in silence to prepare him some tea.
“This is a mess, how did you handled him last night?” Ada asked leaning against the table.
“As best as he let me.” Y/N sighed. “I think he’ll need something stronger, but Polly keeps the booze locked and I don’t know where her keys are.”
“I need to go through Arthur’s papers later, if I find something, I’ll give it to you.” Ada proposed in a low tone, still shocked.
“I’m planing to pay Polly a visit, she might need a change of clothes and other things, would you come with me?”
“The safe combination wont work, Y/N I need you to open it.” Tommy appeared out of breath, he looked like he had been moving furniture around and it was only past eight o’clock.
“Alright I’ll take that as my cue to go.” Ada left them with her own cup of tea, she had a long day ahead and knew when to stay away from her brother.
Pouring the two cups, Y/N gave Tommy his to try to keep him busy as he was looking over her shoulder, as if with that she would be able to open the safe faster.
“What’s so urgent?” She didn’t understand, Tommy had already paid for protection for his family while they were in jail. That was something.
But the combination she was using didn’t work either and Tommy was growing impatient.
“Hang on, Pol told me something about a picture.” Y/N clicked her fingers and started opening the back of a frame that was sitting on Polly’s desk, hidden behind a photo of Michael, there was a paper with the new combination.
“Why the hell did she choose to hide combination there?” Tommy complained, shaking his head.
“Because no one would think of opening a photo frame?” Y/N chuckled and left him to start organizing the things she would be helping around with.
First she started to make a list of the things that were needed at the office, then she got busy with the car spares of the upcoming shipments which kept her busy most of the morning.
The following weeks happened exactly like that, super busy days by keeping the books in order, registering the accountability made her feel exhausted by the end of the day and her feet were sore when she got involved in dispatching the Scotch whiskey. She could barely realize when it was lunch time and before she knew it, it was already nine o’clock and Tommy took some papers to keep working from home.
Rubbing his eyes, he locked the door to his office and walked through the empty property, all employees were gone home for the day, except for one; the most loyal one, the one who stepped in and didn’t ask what she needed to do, she got completely hands on immediately and didn’t stop until he was ready to go. Y/N had been developing incredible leadership skills, she made everything go right on time, she made sure meetings were efficient and all employees had clear instructions.
Tommy looked around for her since all he could find was silence,so it was a surprise to find her sitting on the floor inside the safe, somehow she also managed to make the count and organize the mess they had inside. After feeling on the edge for days, watching her skirt wrinkled, a lock of hair bothering her vision and making her blow some air in a lousy attempt to move it back made his day go a million times better.
She wasn’t a Shelby yet, - he should change that soon- but somehow she had managed to earn that last name by her endless support and all the hard work she was doing.
“You’re making me start thinking I should have everyone else fired and hire you full time, what the hell are you doing Y/N?” Tommy asked with his arms folded against his chest, the hint of a smile dancing in his lips. He couldn’t hide the amusement in his features.
Face it all together
At Skyfall
“Why do you have a King’s letter here?” Y/N raised her hand with a wrinkled paper, that caught Tommy’s attention right away.
“Where did you find it?” His eyes scanned the words at speed.
“After finishing the count, I started organizing the licenses and papers, this briefcase was at the back.” She explained showing him the other papers. “What’s the matter?”
Then, in a surprising motion, Tommy took her face between his hands and gave her a loud and effusive kiss on the lips.
“This is better than the fucking lottery!”
He announced storming out of the safe, Y/N rushed to close it before following his steps confused.
“You’re a fucking genius.”
“I’m not following.” She frowned while Tommy poured two glasses, this was the first time she saw him smile for weeks, his eyes finally showing life.
“I found that briefcase by accident some time ago, it involves the King in some shit ,” his eyes were shining like the stars outside, “this is my ticket to get my family out and all thanks to you.”
Tommy pulled her by the hips to make her sit on his lap.
“What are you waiting for then? Go on!” She encouraged him, but Tommy had other plans.
“If it wasn’t for you during this difficult time, I wouldn’t be able to do this, you know that right?” His hand came to caress her cheek while she took a moment to savor his sweet words. “This is far from the ideal proposal and I don’t even have a ring right now, but I need you to know that I want you by my side forever.”
“Oh Tommy!” Her eyes got teary, she was so tired and worried for him, thinking he would explode at any moment so this was totally unexpected.
And for the first time in days, they both felt like they did a good job by keeping the business afloat and finally the way to get the family free. After hugging tightly and another round of kisses, Y/N pulled back.
“First things first, we’re going to write a letter to get your family out of jail,” Y/N stated excitedly, “we should do a tea party and invite Mr. Churchill and other VIP guests.”
Tommy chuckled.
“And let me pick up Aunt Pol, she is still angry with you.”
“Fair enough.” He answered leaning back on his chair as Y/N was writing the letter.
After asking a blinder to deliver it personally, Y/N walked back into Tommy’s office finding him with his eyes closed and two fingers massaging his temples.
“Everything will be alright.” She hugged him from behind, taking in how worried he really was, but he had been disguising as strong and tough and intimidating all the time.
“I know,” when Tommy looked into her eyes, she found sadness. “Thank you for doing this.”
“Tommy… I knew you’d find a wait to get them out.”
“This shouldn’t be happening. Not to them.”
“Let’s focus on the future now, hmm?” Y/N kissed his cheek.
That was all he could think of now. And all of the things they’d do together.
He was so grateful for the way she managed everything, kept him grounded and focused, encouraged him to keep going, to not give up, she stood up for him when he needed it the most.
And there was nothing on earth good enough to show her how grateful he really was.
***
Adele songs challenge
Master List
Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @zablife @gypsy-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts @moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @thenattitude @winchestergirl22 @heidimoreton @imichelle-l-rigby @allie131313 @already-broken144 @peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @sydneyyyya (can’t tag) @adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @thomashelbyswife @darleneslane @everythingelseisextra
#that’s what Cill said#cillian murphy imagine#Tommy Shelby imagine#tommy shelby smut#tommy shelby x reader#tommy shelby x fem!reader#tommy shelby x y/n#peaky blinders imagine#tommy shelby fanfiction
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Worth Fighting For
pairing: nikolai lantsov x fem!tidemaker!reader
genre: fluff
el's thoughts: requested by @naushtheaspiringauthor a very looong time ago haha.. sorry it took so long! i hope you like it!
The ocean breeze swept through the open window of the grand room in the palace of Ravka, the moonlight casting a silvery glow on the intricate patterns of the walls. A sense of unease hung in the air as Nikolai Lantsov, the King of Ravka, paced back and forth.
Seated on the windowsill, Y/N watched him with concern in her eyes. As a skilled tidemaker, she had always been a steady presence in Nikolai's life. They'd been friends for years, ever since she first met him in the palace, and they both shared secrets and dreams that no one else could understand.
~
The sun had set hours ago, and the turmoil within Nikolai had yet to subside. The demon inside him, the monster that threatened to take control, was a constant battle. And tonight, it seemed to be winning.
Nikolai stopped pacing and turned to you, his eyes filled with frustration and underlying fear. “I can't control it, Y/N/N. It's getting stronger, and I fear that one day, I won't be able to stop it.”
Y/N rose from her seat and approached him slowly, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You’re stronger than you think, Nik. We’ll figure this out together. I’m sure Zoya and Genya are also trying their hardest to help.”
He looked at her with a mix of undying gratitude and longing. “You’ve always been there for me, Y/N, through the good and bad. I don’t deserve you.”
Her heart ached at his words as she turned her gaze from him to the far wall to her right. “Don’t say things like that. You forget yourself, you’re the king of Ravka. You’re not alone in this. We’ll find a way to control the demon, and I’m not going anywhere.” She reached for his arm and looked up at him, “Let’s get you in bed now, you’re exhausted.”
His eyes bore into hers, and in that moment, something shifted between the pair. The unspoken tension that had always lingered was suddenly palpable, and they both felt it. Before she could react, Nikolai closed the distance between them, his lips captured hers in a kiss that held years of longing and desire. It was a kiss that spoke of unspoken feelings, of the connection that had always been there but had never been acknowledged.
When they finally pulled away, they were both breathless and their foreheads rested against each other. “Nikolai,” she whispered, her voice choked from all her emotions.
He cupped her cheek and brushed his thumb over her soft skin. “I’ve waited far too long to do that. I was just too scared that I’d end up dragging you down because of…”
He didn’t need to finish his sentence for Y/N to know he was referring to the demon. She shook her head, “No, Koyla, you could never drag me down. You’re the strongest person I know. Plus, I’m a Tidemaker so you couldn’t drown me if you tried.” That pulled a soft chuckle from his lips.
“Okay.”
“Okay?” She wanted him to reassure her that he believed her words. He nodded with a smile. “Good, now let’s get you to bed.”
~
Over the following weeks, Y/N and Nikolai worked tirelessly to gain control over the demon that threatened to consume him. As a Tidemaker, she had a unique understanding of power and how to wield it. Together, they trained and experimented, using the power of the sea to somehow counter the darkness within him. There was a plethora of moments full of frustration and setbacks, but she never wavered in her belief in him. Y/N was there to pick him up when he stumbled, to hold him when he felt weak, and to reassure him that he was not alone in this battle.
One night, as the couple sat on the palace rooftop, the moonlight reflecting off the still lake below, Nikolai turned to her with an endearing smile. Her hair flew out behind her elegantly with the wind and her eyes sparkled under the moon. She was stunning. She was his love, his best friend, and she had been by his side every day without fail. “I couldn't have done this without you, Y/N. Thank you.”
She smiled back, her heart full of love for the man beside her. “I should thank you. You've shown me what it means to be strong, even in the face of darkness… Quite literally.”
Their chuckles floated away with the cool breeze. Nikolai took one of her hands in his, his finger drawing patterns on her palm. “You know, I used to think that I was destined to rule alone, that no one could ever truly understand the weight of the crown. But, truly, you've shown me that I don't have to be alone.”
As he spoke, Y/N realized that she felt the same way. She had been with him through thick and thin, and she couldn't imagine her life without him.
Nikolai smiled and brushed his lips against her temple, an intimate gesture full of gratitude and love.
In that moment, they both knew that they were meant to be together, that their connection was stronger than any demon or darkness that could threaten it. And as they held each other under the moonlit sky, she knew that they had found a love that was truly worth fighting for.
#nikolai lantsov#nikolai lantsov x reader#nikolai lantsov x you#nikolai lantsov x y/n#shadow and bone#shadow and bone x reader#shadow and bone imagine#ellora.writes
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List 5 facts about a favorite sim of yours, and send this to 10 simblrs whose sims you adore ♥♥♥
TYSM for sending me this ask @elderwisp and @igotsnothing 💖
I almost used this as an excuse to do two sims.... but it takes me so long to answer these things that I didn't want to risk it sitting in my inbox for too long lol!
But let's dive in, shall we?
I chose my beloved...
✨Asher Goode✨
🩶Asher is a dog lover, and is very attached to his border collie, Jasper. He rescued Jasper as a six-month-old puppy when he was fifteen. The dog lives at his parents’ house because Asher doesn’t want him to be cooped up in an apartment. (He’s the main reason Asher visits his family so much.) If he does bring Jasper home to the city, it’s only for one night, and usually means he’s having a tough time and needs a little extra comfort.
🩶He is a very talented artist. One of his favorite hobbies is writing and illustrating comics. He’s been doing this since he was a kid, and it’s his creative outlet outside of work. He completed his first story when he was fifteen. It was inspired by Jasper and is still in his old bedroom at his parents’ house. (I hope one day to share it, but I need to share it as a comic and I don’t know how to go about doing that yet, so I’m holding onto it for now.)
🩶He gets his creativity from his father, who is a musician. His dad had always hoped that his kids would share his love of music. While Asher appreciates a wide variety of genres, he’s not interested in playing any instruments. In fact, he hates the piano because it reminds him of how miserable lessons were as a kid. He’d much rather put on his headphones and draw. However, he does love dancing and going to concerts.
🩶He's not much into fitness or sports, but he does love to run on the beach with his dog. He’s also a very strong swimmer. Not because he enjoys swimming… quite the opposite really. When he was nine years old, he nearly drowned in the ocean when he was swept away by the undertow. He was saved by this mother, but he’s hated the water ever since. Rather than avoid it, though, he asked his parents to sign him up for swimming lessons. He’s not the type to avoid what scares him, he’d rather take control in any way he can.
🩶Asher is madly in love with Atlas... yes yes, we know this… but did you know that Asher’s love language is physical touch? He is very affectionate. The type to always greet you with a hug, put a hand on you while talking, lean against you while standing, drape his legs over you while sitting on the sofa, and snuggle you in bed (and he’s almost always the big spoon). A lot of the time, he does this without thinking, so people who don’t like others in their personal space tend to not like being around him. But, for Atlas, the casual closeness and affection always put him at ease around Asher, even long before they started dating. (I could really dive into all that, but this isn’t about Atlas right now, so perhaps I’ll save it for another time 😉).
#lynzi answers#i will literally talk about him all day#so happy to get his ask#ty both so much#🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶#i feel like each of these contains 2-3 facts#i'm sneaky like that lol#also the hearts are gray cos his eyes are gray#🤭🥰#ok i'll stop now#aries outtakes#asher extas
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that source saying "he's removed himself from her narrative and he's so glad that he did" is so funny to me because of songs like mastermind. TAYLOR is going to be the one removing HIM from the narrative lmao. it instantly reminds me of maisie's lyric "i can write you out the way i wrote you in" and that's exactly what taylor is going to do. i can't wait to see how she does that. it's like...this love was once golden to her, so is it still golden?? or is it a different color to her now (maroon???). is healthy love still golden?? is her love with travis golden or does she associate that love with a different color?? she just always knows how to use colors to describe feelings/love and i'm so excited to see the evolution of that in ttpd!!!
here’s the thing— in terms of pure numbers, joe songs aren’t gold, they’ve always been blue. like, from the very start to the very end. the imagery associated with it was also heavily tied to drowning, or being swept away, or the middle of the night. like, so much of lover takes place at night (and i think that’s somewhat intentional— the sun only starts peaking out in the last few songs, culminating in daylight, but still, it’s such a nighttime album). that’s not to say i think that love was all sadness all the time, or that taylor was lying in daylight, but i also think lover was built in conversation with red and it’s hard to avoid that “real love shines golden like starlight […] maybe i’ll write a whole album about that someday” part of the prologue.
i also don’t think she’ll be getting super into the travis relationship on this album— not necessarily in a timeline sense (i’m guessing it was mostly done in november-ish, so like, there was probably time to slide some travis songs in there if she wanted to), more just looking at the track titles.
i also just. mostly don’t care about joe. like this might change when the album comes out, but even then like. idk i don’t think about his experience i don’t care whether he is in the narrative or not and who put him where. like i want to hear what taylor writes about it and i’m interested in the muses behind the songs because they give the songs good context, but i just fundamentally don’t care about him
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FFXIVWrite Prompt 22: Fulsome
Rating: T
Word Count: 777
Warnings: Sexually suggestive conversation, non explicit
Summary: Valeria made it through her wedding and now is enjoying her reception with her dearest friend and maid of honor. [Solus x Empress, continuation of Prompt 6. Not necessary to read the first part, but adds some context.]
Master Post
Valeria, despite having stayed at the palace for over a month, gazed upon the lavishly decorated ball room with wonder that almost had her tripping over her own feet. Soft lights at the edges of the room were almost completely drowned out by the bright lights of the brilliant chandeliers above. What are surely very expensive fabrics draped over what felt like endless tables laden with fulsome plates of food, many of which were traditional Garlean dishes, though some were foreign foods Valeria had never seen before. A large, open area in the middle of the room made up a dance floor, a small stage set out of the way for the quartet to play for the evening.
It was more than Valeria would have ever dreamed for herself, and she still wasn’t sure that this wasn’t all some dream. Perhaps she’d been in some accident and was trapped in a deep slumber, but if she was, it was certainly an improvement and so she didn’t complain. She spotted Noelle taking her place at one table, clearly uncomfortable with attending as a guest and not a servant, but settling well enough to shoot Valeria a smile and a thumbs-up from across the room.
There was dining and speech making and, honestly, Valeria was so overwhelmed it all kind of passed in a blur until everything settled down and people started wandering from their seats to speak and dance. Despite clinging to her new husband like she was afraid of getting lost in the crowd if she let go, they ended up swept away by various groups. Ambitious military types were seizing their chance to pick Solus’ brain and try to get into his favor while the rich, the noble, and the social climbers approached without cease to interrogate Valeria — who was she, where did she come from, how did they meet, and other such questions that carried the undercurrent of looking for leverage against the new Empress.
Perhaps Noelle could see that Valeria was drowning in conversation, or perhaps she just wanted to talk to the only person that didn’t look down on her, because the tiny hyur approached and chased away the high class Garleans harassing Valeria and took up a spot next to her, handing her a glass of wine.
“Gods, they’re persistent,” Noelle grumbled, glancing none too subtly at the more desperate to grasp for favor lingering nearby. “How are you holding up?”
“Honestly, pushy nobles aside, this is the easy part,” Valeria took a sip of her drink. “The food’s good, the drink is better, and the decorations are beautiful.” Noelle grinned widely; she’d picked most of the decor and food, Valeria having deferred to her taste when overwhelmed by choice.
“So…” Noelle’s face turned mischievous. “Feeling less nervous about tonight, then?” Valeria choked on her wine, though she knew she should have known that, now that she didn’t need to get her down the aisle in one piece, Noelle would bring back their former discussion.
“Could you…not? I was kinda hoping to just forget about those particular nerves,” Valeria blotted stray wine from her face, though there was no wiping away the way her face reddened.
“What, and then have to deal with all of them on the spot? I’m doing you a favor,” Noelle gave the most innocent expression she could muster, and Valeria rolled her eyes.
“I don’t think ‘thinking about it’ is going to make it better later,” she turned the glass in her hands, watching the wine gently slosh around inside. “It just…it is what it is. It’s my new job, after all, to make an heir happen, so—“
“Val, that is such a bad way to look at this,” Noelle sighed. “Just make yourself a list of your concerns and talk to him about it. I hear good communication is important for marriages— Your Radiance!” Noelle suddenly dropped into a low curtsy, Valeria turning her head to see Solus approaching, reaching one hand towards her.
“Shall we dance?” he asked, and she couldn’t contain her (only a little bashful) smile as she took his hand and let him lead her to the dance floor, Noelle deftly snagging her wine out of her hand before Valeria could forget about it and spill the wine.
“You looked like you needed rescuing,” he gently teased as they slowly spun across the floor. “What were you talking about?”
“Oh, n-nothing!” Valeria felt her cheeks warm, knowing she wasn’t fooling anyone, least of all her husband. “Just…um…girl things.”
“’Girl things’?” Solus raised an eyebrow at her, smirking in amusement. Valeria gulped.
“I’ll…tell you later?”
“As you wish.”
#ffxiv#emet-selch#solus zos galvus#oc: valeria yae galvus#garlean oc#ffxivwrite#ffxivwrite2023#wedding#reception#my fanfiction#my writing#fanfic#solus x empress#ship: once upon a dream
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Swept Away in the Torrents of You
Swept Away in the Torrents of You
Just the reoccurring theme of Macau not being able to contact the people he wants. Poor kid, has it hard.
I don't know why I wrote that, I'm literally the one doing this to him 😂
Vegas coming for my ass after he sees what I’ve put his baby brother through. 🙃
Part 10, here we gooooooo.
----------------+----------------
He’s lonely.
It’s not the first time he’s had to be alone without his father or brother in the same house as him, but this time he knows it’s different. Knows the lonesome could turn permanent at the will of the main family. it had only been a few hours since he was left to the torment of his torrented mind, left to be pulled under the floods.
He allowed himself to though. allowed his mind to fixate on his affections for Chay, questioning himself on when it all began, when things changed, when he started to want to be the one to hold Chay’s affections as well. It took him back to the memories of the first day he’d seen the boy, seen his smile. It’s then, he decided.
Then, was the first time he’d felt it. Disgust, disgust at how the boy was living such a carefree life, such a normal joyous life, a life in complete contrast to the hell Macau woke up in every morning. His disgust then turned into mild bewilderment. Bewilderment at the fact that Porchay seemed to be living in a world of his own, a world he had carefully constructed. Maca had called it ignorance at first, mocking the naive nature of the boy. That was until he saw Porchay’s smile drop for the first time.
It was earlier in his ‘mission’ days. he had not expected his eyes to catch onto it at first, but the first time he saw Porchay’s smile fall, it had grounded him with a subtle sense of realization. His bewilderment turned to scrutiny after that, slowly starting to pick up on the increasing number of times he’d noticed it, until he could distinguish perfectly the fake smiles from the rest. And then all of a sudden, the camouflaged envy he had for the boy started to rot away. Days went by, and Macau remembered feeling better, the ‘better’ he had though was yet another cover. He related to the loneliness he saw peeking through Porchay’s eyes, through the boy’s disassociation. He’d never thought that day would lead him to sympathize with the boy.
but then it all got worse when he found out who Porsche was and that Porchay had no idea what his brother was up to. Him befriending Porchay had suddenly seemed like a curse. All the things he’d kept mental notes of, all the interests he’d noticed, all the times Porchay had stood up for him against the insensitivity of his own friends. everything started to seem like a curse.
because now he knew who Chay was.
He knew how absolutely broken Chay is, how abandoned he was, how lonesome he lived.
Much like himself
He should have been glad for the company, for the ability to relate to another human. He didn’t think others could ever experience the feelings he did. but here was Chay, living Macau’s life. There might not have been guns or blood or a whole lot of abuse, but there was loneliness, silent suffering, and a whole lot of pretend.
He knew Chay knew who he was, where he came from, what he does, and that it didn’t stop him from allowing Macau the chance to get to know him. He might have not known about the mission, or the promises Macau had made to Vegas, but he knew that Macau’s world was dark and unhinged.
They had suffered the same. in their own dark worlds. in their own grey pasts. in their own lost time.
It had all seemed like a blur now, every meeting, every glance, every chance. It took a few minutes for Macau to realize that the blur actually came from the tears veiling his eyes, he was crying yet again.
He had let them flow though, figured that if he was drowning in his memories- might as well drown in tears too.
He had made the godforsaken mistake of pulling up Chay’s Instagram- if he could go back in time he’d slap himself and tell his past self to wallow in self-pity without looking for physical evidence of his turmoil.
But he had seen it, rubbed the tears away just to get a better look at the caption.
Loving can hurt, Loving can hurt sometimes, But it's the only thing that I know when it gets hard.
There was a picture of a photograph of whom Macau assumed were Porsche and Chay when they were younger. Chay had looked really young there, but his smile was so much different than all the ones Macau had ever seen so far.
True happiness looked extraordinarily beautiful on Chay, that was Macau’s first thought.
The second was that Chay had probably found out that his brother was lying to him... under the most traumatizing of experiences and circumstances.
His eldest cousin had been kidnapped once before- he hadn’t even been born then, but he had heard from the multiple slanders his father threw at the main family- Tankhun still hadn’t recovered from it. what would it have done to Chay? How would it affect Chay? He probably needed a friend, someone to be with him right now. Someone to be there for him.
He didn't deserve to be called that, a friend. He didn't deserve to know Chay, he didn't deserve to meet him, to see him smile. He deserves nothing but to be alone.
He knew all that, but he still wanted to, wants to. Wants to know Chay, wants to get to know everything that there is about him, everything not in the files of information he'd accumulated in his room and mind. Wants to meet him, see him every day and every fucking night, every second if he could, he'd risk never sleeping again if he had the chance. Wants to see him smile, the same smile from the photograph, not the one he saw on the regular. the one that makes Chay's eyes crease into tiny moons and his cheeks puff.
He had pulled up his chat app, Chay's smiling face a lens in his mind. He didn't even have to scroll far, Chay was the fourth contact. He had typed and deleted and re-typed and deleted.
A call, Macau had settled for after nearly pulling his nails out with how much he had been stressing about what to write.
The ringing was endless. It hadn't even gone to voice message, just kept ringing. It took him a whole minute to realize that the usual caller tune of one of his cousin’s songs hadn’t started playing yet.
He had blinked and checked to see if he had called someone else, but Porchay's name was rightfully glowing on the screen.
He tried again, and again, and again. Nothing.
His heartbeat had picked up, but he calmed himself down, making up excuses. He had messaged Chay then, asked how he'd been and if he would like to hang out soon.
He had waited, patiently. But around the two-hour mark he frustratedly flung his phone to the side, making it bounce off the sofa and onto the floor, he had refreshed the chat way too many times but still couldn't see a response. He had thrown his head back with a groan, the ceiling becoming the new target of his glare.
There's a ding and he had all but thrown his body off the cushion towards the floor. But it was only Vegas sending him a picture of his hedgehog. It was a thing they did usually- Macau loved to make fun of how ugly the creature was- but that time he just wanted to strangle it.
He checked his chat with Chay again, there still was only one tick. And the anxiety had Macau rolling on the floor, almost throwing a fit. That was a lie, he definitely threw a fit.
When it was five hours, Macau had to convince himself not to fight the guards and run to find Chay. He could do it, he knew he could.
There's a sudden ding. Macau nearly hadn't heard it because he had stashed his phone away between the cushions just so he wouldn't look at his screen anymore.
It's chay.
He nearly dies of happiness in the two seconds it took for him to unlock his phone and open the notification.
I really don't want to meet anyone right now, sorry. Maybe next time.
The crash came instantly along with a sudden lethargy in his being. Saying that he didn’t expect it as a possibility, was stupid. But it hurt nonetheless. he had hoped for a miracle, hoped a little too hard he realizes.
he doesn’t reply, just leaves the message on read. Stares at the screen until it auto-locks after five minutes.
He’s not mad, he understands. So he lays back against the couch, phone still in his hand as he falls back into his torrent.
yeah, he’s lonely.
---------------------------------------------
I clearly have an aversion to other people’s happiness.
JK. I promise the next part won’t be so dull and sad.
They will be happy. I will make sure of it😏
this happy family will be achieved.
#my art#Fanart#kinnporsche#kinnporsche the series#macauchay#macau theerapanyakul#We MacauChay all the wayyyy#my poor baby macau#Macau emotional crisis#porchay kittisawasd#kim theerapanyakul#vegas theerapanyakul#Gun Theerapanyakul#Porsche Kittisawasd#mafia#ansgt#high school#teenage love#teenage adoration#ghost ship#heartbreak#kimchay#healing#part of the rant#pink sky#sunset#corset#male corset#date#strawberry crepe cookie
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Tiger Shark
Part 5: The Net
Chapter 30
“We thought it was rain!” Johanna splutters as Finnick dunks her again, partly to wash her off, and partly to keep her and Katniss apart as Katniss helps scrub off Nuts and Volts.
Wiress keeps saying “Tick, tock. Tick, tock,” and it’s already driven Johanna up the mast, so we have separated them.
Johanna hauls in a breath as she pops above the surface. “You know, because of the lightning, and we were all so thirsty.”
This time Finnick lets her finish her sentence before dunking her.
She comes up again. She is looking cleaner. “But when it started coming down, it turned out to be blood.” She scratches her fingernails along her scalp, scrubbing more blood out of her hair. “Thick, hot blood.” Johanna takes a deep breath before Finnick pushes her under again. She comes back up and goes on without missing a beat. “You couldn’t see, you couldn’t speak without getting a mouthful.” She goes under again, then comes up again. “We just staggered around, trying to get out of it.” She pauses, staring off over my shoulder at the trees. “That’s when Blight hit the force field.”
“Johanna…” But I don’t know what else to say.
“I’m sorry, Johanna,” Finnick says.
“Yeah, well,” she blinks hard, “he wasn’t much, but he was from home.” She sucks in a huge breath and plunges back under water. She stays down there a long time. She finally emerges, gasping for air, but looking clean and determined, pushing back the hair that has come loose from her ponytail. “And he left me alone with these two.” She waves a dismissive hand at Nuts and Volts, but there is something else in her eyes.
Johanna knows. She knows what I don’t know. What Katniss doesn’t know she doesn’t know.
“I got them out.” Johanna turns to Finnick. “I did my job. I’m in the alliance—right?” She looks desperate.
Finnick nods. “Yeah. You’re in, Johanna. You’re with us.”
She looks at me and opens her mouth, but Finnick shakes his head.
“Come on,” he says, “let’s go get some food.”
Katniss has cleaned up Wiress while Alvan and Cecelia have patched up Beetee’s back. We all sit in the shade as the sun rises higher and higher, Finnick and Haymitch catching Johanna up on the last twenty-four hours of our lives.
“So that’s why you all look like lizards.” Johanna smiles a little.
I raise my eyebrows, but Alvan, who is relaxing in the sun, chuckles. “I’ll bet we do. All scaly ’n’ dappled ’n’ green. Start peelin’ soon with any luck.”
~~~ ~~~ ~~~
I must fall asleep again, because I am woken up by Katniss shaking me. If I look anything like her, I do look like a lizard.
“It’s a clock!” she keeps saying, over and over, while behind her Nuts repeats “Tick, tock. Tick, tock.”
When Katniss has roused us all, she starts talking a million miles a minute.
The arena is a clock. Lightning strikes at noon and midnight. Johanna’s blood rain in the next wedge from one o’clock to two, then the poison fog, then the monkeys, and at ten there is the wave that carried away our poor wretched jumpsuits.
The wave that carried away Zalea and Tychus. The wave that drowned the boy from Three. The wave that broke the boy from Twelve’s treehouse. The wave that swept me to victory.
The wave that washed away the old Annie, whose flippers I have never been able to fill. She left me a house and a father and friends, a closet full of green dresses, a picture frame that shows the laugh of a boy I will never see again, a nickname I can never live up to.
My foot scrapes against something that isn’t sand. I inhale sharply.
“Careful there,” comes Alvan’s easy voice from behind me.
Without really thinking, I nod, focusing on my feet. We are walking along one of the rocky spokes toward the cornucopia. Ahead of me, Cecelia is guiding Wiress forward, and beyond them is Johanna, then Haymitch, leading the way.
I don’t remember how we got here, or why we are going to the cornucopia. I’m not even sure we’re going to the cornucopia, but I don’t know what our destination might be if that’s not it.
I feel incredibly validated when we stop in the mouth of the cornucopia. At least I figured that out by myself. And I walked myself here. Those are achievements.
Katniss sets Nuts to cleaning the congealed blood off Volts’s coil of wire while the rest of us pick through the weapons that are still in the cornucopia. I notice Finnick and Haymitch making a conscious but subtle effort to keep Johanna and Katniss as far away from each other as possible.
I understand that. If Katniss is going to snap and kill any of us, it’ll be Johanna. They rub each other the wrong way, and yet Johanna went through all the work to bring Nuts and Volts to us, practically pleading to join the alliance. The unwelcome thought crosses my mind that, when this alliance breaks, as it will have to eventually, I will take Johanna’s side. We’ve been friends for three years now and I’m not about to let that go.
They are talking about canaries in coal mines and Wiress is singing while she scrubs the wire and Cecelia is checking Beetee’s back again. Haymitch and Alvan look around at the jungle, hilariously similar in their mannerisms, each with a hand on their waist as they use the other to point and gesture.
And then someone screams.
“Alvan!”
His head whips around.
My gaze follows, too slowly, only in time to see a knife thunk into Wiress’s chest. The boom of the cannon almost masks Beetee’s sorrowful groan, but there is no time to focus on Nuts’s death.
Cashmere is sprinting up the stony spoke in front of us, reaching for another knife. Behind her thunder Brutus, Gloss, and the woman from Nine, whose name escapes me but who I remember Beck telling me to stay away from.
Cashmere throws another knife, but Haymitch shoves Katniss to the side just in time. The knife grazes his shoulder but does no further damage.
Katniss has an arrow on the string and just as quickly it is gone, but Cashmere didn’t win by being stupid. She dives to the side, into the water, and the arrow hisses past where she was just a second ago and buries itself in Brutus’s thigh.
The cannon booms again and I have no idea who is dead. Before I can even puzzle out if another member of the alliance might have been killed, the ground jerks beneath my feet.
The arena is spinning like a merry-go-round. Or maybe just the cornucopia. I cling to the sand for dear life. Then, just as quickly as it started, the spinning stops. I have always hated merry-go-rounds. Laying on the ground, I hear the others sound off, get slowly to their feet, raise their voices in a panic.
“The wire! Where’s the wire?”
By the time I have eased myself upright, still a little dizzy, Katniss is climbing out of the water, hauling the coil of wire. Cecelia sits next to Alvan, whose head is between his knees, his shoulders shaking. Johanna helps me to my feet. Finnick is slapping Beetee’s back the best he can without hitting his wound. Beetee coughs up some water and Finnick nods.
Haymitch’s head looks like it’s on a swivel as he looks here and there, every which way. “Where the hell…?”
“Can we leave now?” Johanna says, that familiar bored annoyance creeping back into her voice.
“Sure thing.” Haymitch rolls his eyes. “Which wedge would you like to go to?”
“The lightning tree,” Katniss says. “That way we have plenty of time to rest up and plan while we know we’re safe.”
“Yeah, of course. Just tell me which way that is,” Haymitch drawls sarcastically.
Johanna, Finnick, and I start off in three different directions. I glance back to see Alvan pointing in a fourth, and Cecelia looking around in wild confusion. Katniss frowns, looking around at the identical wedges of the arena.
“Thought so,” Haymitch says.
“Twelve o’clock, right?” Alvan says, still pointing in the direction the tail of the cornucopia faces. “The tail points at twelve.”
“Before they spun us. I was judging by the sun,” Finnick tries to defend himself.
At least they were being logical about it. I had just gone with my gut.
“The sun only tells you it’s going on four, Finnick,” Katniss says.
“I think Katniss’s point is, knowing the time doesn’t mean you necessarily know where four is on the clock. You might have a general idea of the direction. Unless you consider that they may have shifted the outer ring of jungle as well,” Beetee says thoughtfully.
We have lost our advantage, and we can’t even follow the tracks that Cashmere, Gloss, Brutus, and Nine might have left, because they have either been blown or washed away. Which reminds me…
“The second cannon,” I say quietly.
Alvan slumps again.
Cecelia smiles sadly. “It was Kivvie. She must have seen them coming and yelled to warn us. Enobaria…” She trails off. “We owe her at least some of our lives.”
Haymitch nods.
“But we’re still lost.” Katniss’s question seems self-serving, almost crass, but on her face is a deep respect and something bordering on sorrow.
Beetee shakes his head. “Only temporarily. At ten, we’ll see the wave again and be back on track.”
“Unless we’re in the wave section. Then we’ll all be dead.” Katniss glances at me and then at Finnick. “Well, most of us.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Johanna says impatiently. “We’ll stay right on the beach if that makes everyone feel better. Then we have a fighting chance, even with the wave.” She almost smiles at me. “You might just pull it off again. Wouldn’t that be crazy?”
“Something like that,” I say. “I don’t want to have to do it though.”
Johanna shrugs. “Well, I need water. What’s the plan?”
So we pick a random direction. By the time we reach the beach, we are fairly sure that it’s the monkey hour, and we don’t see any of them in the trees, so we decide to risk it. Katniss taps a tree while Alvan stands guard and Finnick weaves yet another water basket while I strip vines for him.
The work is mindless, and I find myself thinking over our time in the arena. Not in the way that usually happens, where I fade out and listen to the screams from my Games, but in a conscious, curious, confused way. Why do we have such a huge alliance? Why did Johanna risk her life just to bring Katniss Nuts and Volts? Why is Cecelia patching all of us up, making sure we are bandaged and our wounds clean and non-debilitating when she could get rid of half of us by leaving us to bleed out? Why have Finnick and I been catching enough shellfish to feed six to nine people instead of letting the others starve? Why did Kivvie condemn herself to death at Enobaria’s hands to warn us the Careers were coming when she could have been several people closer to victory by not shouting? Why did Haymitch put himself in the path of Cashmere’s knife to move Katniss-
Oh.
We are keeping Katniss alive.
We. Like I’m in on it. Everyone except me is keeping Katniss alive. I look at Finnick. He has that same look he always gets when he’s concentrating.
He glances up at me and grins, then goes back to work.
No. I know that smile. He might not know it yet, but everyone is keeping Katniss alive except for Finnick, who never lets me out of his sight. Who is going out of his way to make sure no one tells me what’s going on. Who is doing everything he can to keep me fed and watered and safe and well-rested. Who will jump ship the minute this plan puts me in too much danger.
But now I know, so I will fight all the harder. I will not let him jump ship. And I will stay with him.
Finnick has finished his basket and hands it to Katniss to fill with water. She takes it, and it is half-full when I hear the high, blood-curdling scream.
Katniss drops the basket, the water spilling everywhere, and runs.
“Wait, Katniss!” Finnick is after her like a shot, calling over his shoulder, “Stay there!” Then he disappears into the trees, still shouting, “Katniss, no! Come back!”
I stay by Alvan. He yanks the spile from the tree and hangs it around his neck.
The same scream echoes through the trees again but worse, so much worse, and Alvan bolts. But not before I can see the realization in his eyes. I run after him.
“No! No, wait!” Alvan shouts, sprinting through the trees down the trail of destruction the other two leave in their wake. “Katniss, come back, they’re-!”
I don’t find out what they are. The scream falls silent.
“Katniss?” Alvan calls cautiously.
There is another scream. Not the little girl. I recognize its beginnings from one day, many summers ago, swimming north of the pier, where sometimes there were jellyfish and we weren’t always careful enough, but now it grows far beyond that. This is worse. So much worse. It is a tortured scream I have never heard before, and one I will never hear again, but I am eighteen again and Mako’s head falls to the ground.
I am running, chasing the sound as it drags on and on. I slam into someone, scramble back to my feet, look wildly around for the source of the scream.
And then Mako’s scream is cut mercifully, horribly short.
“Annie!” Finnick has both hands on my shoulders. “Annie, it’s just a-”
Jade screams. And Coral. And Dad.
Finnick is still talking, trying to keep me here, explain what’s going on. But he has forgotten one thing: I can still take him in a fight. And they are hurting everyone I love.
I rip my arms away from him and run.
Somewhere Rizz is screaming. Mr. and Mrs. Silther. Beck. Mags.
A bird swoops by my head, Jade’s shrill wail of pain following it. An arrow strikes the bird. It falls to the ground, and the scream falls silent.
Other people are screaming. Little kids. A man I don’t know. Someone that sounds like Alvan but isn’t quite.
I look at the bird.
And then I notice the others. The trees are full of them. And every time they open their beaks, a piercing shriek comes out.
All four of us are running, crashing through the jungle, back the way we came. The birds follow. There are Johanna and Cecelia, their mouths moving in shouts we can’t hear over the birds, gesturing at us to stop.
Katniss and Finnick bounce off thin air like birds bouncing off a clean window. I have no time to stop, slamming into a clear wall and falling back onto the ground. The birds are everywhere. What I would give to fade out now. Anything would be better than the screams. I clamp my hands around my ears. I can still hear them. Dad and Coral and Jade and Rizz and I am screaming too.
~~~ ~~~ ~~~
“And while we waited for Beck to come back with the ice, we tried to scare off the gulls.”
He sounds horrible.
If the audience didn’t know before, they do now. I am curled against Finnick, hands clamped over my ears, throat raw from my screams. He is sitting against a tree, both arms around me, talking quietly. Some story about catching a big swordfish and not having a good way to store it.
Slowly, I move my hands and look up at him.
His eyes are scared but he smiles anyway. “Hey,” he whispers.
“Finnick,” I rasp, barely holding back a sob. “They hurt them.”
“No.” It’s Johanna’s voice, quiet behind me.
Katniss is in hysterics not far away. The little kids must have been for her. I don’t know anyone younger than me who isn’t in the arena. And Finnick… I’m right here. For a horrible moment I can’t help but wonder what would have happened if Mags was in the arena instead of me. But I don’t have to wonder from how tightly he’s holding me. They would have been my screams, not Coral and Jade and Dad. Not Mako. Just me.
Beetee is talking. Something about how easy it is to take any recording of a person’s voice and distort it into those pained screams. How the jabberjays were repeating sounds that have never been real, never been made by the people they were mimicking. But it’s too late. It did what it was supposed to.
Haymitch and Cecelia are sitting next to Alvan as he rocks back and forth on the sand.
“Finnick-”
“It’s okay. You’re okay,” he whispers, voice hoarse, pulling me against his chest and kissing my forehead. “I’ve got you. Stay with me.”
I nod. Then it hits me, really hits me. They know now. Not just Snow and his inner circle whose job is to spy on victors and keep up on everything about us—but the audience. Not just Marius and Dalia. All of Panem. Does it matter? If this plan to keep Katniss alive hinged on no one knowing, he could have left me in Johanna’s care, or even with Haymitch. But he didn’t. He’s here.
“Stay with me.”
I shrink against him, tapping on his stomach. Thought they weren’t supposed to find out. Haymitch-
Doesn’t matter now. We’re getting out.
It takes focus to not react to that. I start to tap back, but he beats me to it. Can’t explain. Stay with me. I love you.
I love you too.
~~~ ~~~ ~~~
There is a cannon later that afternoon, and the hovercraft has to pick up five separate pieces of whoever it was.
After the anthem plays, we find out it was Seeder. The other two deaths today were Wiress and Kivvie.
Are there really only seven of us dead? I can’t bring myself to voice the question, and before I can dwell on it too long, a parachute floats down. Haymitch, unprompted and unteased this time, grabs it and opens the basket to reveal lots of small rolls of bread. Sadly, they are not cream cheese rolls.
“They’re from my district,” Beetee says, looking up at the spot where they projected the dead tributes. No doubt he is mourning Wiress. No doubt all of Three is mourning her. Hence the rolls.
But there are a lot of them.
“Twenty-four,” Finnick says.
“Three each.” Johanna nods appreciatively.
So we each eat three of the rolls with our oysters and sit on the beach until the ten o’clock waves rolls down. Then we pack up and move to that slice of beach.
Alvan speaks for the first time since the jabberjays, but only to say quietly that he’ll take the watch.
The rest of us settle in for the night. I curl up on the sand, feet toward the water so I can see the length of the beach and trees sprawling in front of me until the curve of the shore takes it away. Sleep, however, evades me. I lay awake, staring blankly ahead, for a long time, listening to Haymitch and Beetee and Johanna talk about something. Their words are lost in the roar of the wave and the thunder of the buffalo herd.
There is a thump and a huff behind me.
I start to roll over, but an arm slips around my waist and Finnick says, “Just me.”
I frown. “Wh-?”
“They already know,” he mumbles. He’s already falling asleep. “So I’m getting a good night’s sleep.”
Hard to argue with that logic.
****
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Tag List:
@avoxrising @snow-dragon-rider @anakins-ride-or-die
#wrey writes#the hunger games#thg: tiger shark#annie cresta#finnick odair#canon typical violence#character death#dissociation#ptsd
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Title: my biggest “what if”
Fandom: Batman/DC Comics
Relationship: Cassandra Cain/Stephanie Brown
Length: 6137 words (One-Shot)
Tags: Percy Jackson AU, Calypso!Stephanie, Demigod!Cassandra, Based off of The Battle of the Labrynth
Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/39296040
—
A sharp piercing noise rang through Cassandra’s ears—like the beeping of an out-of-control heart monitor—as she felt her numb body be dragged further and further away from the surface. She tried to claw her way back up, but her body had already given out from pure exhaustion.
No matter how strong she was, she couldn’t win against the currents.
Saltwater filled her lungs, and at that moment, she knew this was the end of her journey as a demigod. The last thing she saw before she blacked out from the lack of oxygen was her brother, Tim Drake, diving straight into the ocean, reaching for her hand, but was ultimately halted from being swept up by the raging waters.
Wake up, brave one.
Wake up…
WAKE UP.
Cassandra’s body shot up as soon as she realized she was still alive, which she regretted soon after because her body was still sore from her quest and nearly drowning. She let herself collapse onto the sand and groaned in pain, turning over to her side.
Her head was throbbing and ringing while her vision was blurry, but she hazily tried to make out what or who the figure was next to her. There was a person sitting just beside her—a blonde girl.
Blinking away as much of the blurriness as possible, Cassandra could conclude she was a pretty blonde at that, practically rivaling Aphrodite herself. She had braided dirty blonde hair and wore a white sleeveless Greek dress with a low circular neckline trimmed in gold.
“Oh, thank the gods. You’re awake!” The girl beamed, scooting closer to the near-unconscious demigod.
Panicked, Cassandra fought against the aching in her arm and reached for the Celestial Bronze sword that was typically strapped to her waist, but it was gone. She frowned, unsure if she was forcefully unarmed by the young woman next to her or if her sword had just been washed away from the storm.
She could only pray to the gods that this wasn’t some sort of trap.
“You’re not going to kill me, right?” Cassandra couldn’t help but ask, even if directly asking that to a potential enemy was silly.
The girl rolled her eyes and held up her hands. “I’m harmless. See?”
“Okay.”
It’s not like Cassandra had much of a choice but to trust her anyway. Cassandra was in too much pain to escape, she was too exhausted to think, and she was completely unarmed.
The blonde girl opened a small container that was sitting in her lap and scooped its contents into Cassandra’s mouth. “It’s ambrosia, so eat up.”
Cassandra sat up to not choke on the ambrosia and let its familiar warmth trickle down her throat. It tasted like the hamburgers she would get with Tim at their favorite local fast food joint back in Gotham.
She could already feel her sore limbs feeling a thousand times better than they did just a minute ago, and her headache seemed to have gone away too. Cassandra nodded at the blonde beside her. “Thank you.”
The girl’s lips curled into a bright soft smile, emanating an ethereal glow from the sun hitting her face that made Cassandra realize she might have even been more beautiful than Aphrodite.
“I’m glad you’re feeling better, brave one. It must have been quite the journey for you to have ended up here, am I right?”
“Right. Just finished a quest until the storm hit,” Cassandra glumly said. She remembered celebrating with Tim on their ship after a long week of non-stop traveling and fighting, only for disaster to strike.
“Well, you’re free to stay with me until we find a way for you to leave. I’m Stephanie and this is my island, Ogygia.”
“I’m… Cassandra. Daughter of Hades.”
Stephanie’s eyes perked up a bit from surprise. “Hades?”
Cassandra shrugged. “You probably… don’t hear that everyday.”
“I most certainly don’t, but let’s talk more in my home! I’d love to hear all about your adventures, brave one,” Stephanie happily chirped, already propping Cassandra up for them to walk together before the latter could even respond. “Are you okay to walk on your own?”
“Yes,” Cassandra said, except that it was a complete lie.
As soon as Stephanie let go of her frail body, her knees buckled and immediately gave out, but thankfully Stephanie had caught her before she fell onto the sand.
The demigod chuckled from embarrassment, “Or not.”
“No worries!” Stephanie wrapped an arm around Cassandra’s waist as the latter’s arm draped over Stephanie’s shoulder. “Is this better?”
Cassandra couldn’t help but focus only on the way Stephanie’s arm was snugly hugging her waist, or how much taller Stephanie was now that they were standing side by side. She smelled of cinnamon and juniper too.
“Yes.”
As they walked, Cassandra realized she hadn’t taken the chance to take in where exactly she was because everything had happened so fast, but when she did, she was in awe at the gorgeous blue canvas that painted the sky and how relaxing the sound of the soft breeze was. There were palm trees and hills decorating the surprisingly large island, along with a campsite that wasn’t too far from a cave just up ahead that was presumably Stephanie’s home.
Just outside of the cave was a grove of cedar trees and the flower garden that accompanied it on the right. The entire island looked like a paradise now that Cassandra thought about it.
They sat down on Stephanie’s couch, which was relieving because Cassandra wasn’t sure if caves had chairs or not. She wasn’t sure if she could stand up for much longer. Whether it was because her legs were still too weak or because she didn’t want Stephanie touching her again was unclear.
In fact, she wasn’t sure if her heart pounding was from the adrenaline of nearly dying and finding herself on a random island, or that Stephanie was the most gorgeous girl Cassandra had ever seen in her entire life and she had just been holding her by the waist.
“You have a… modern couch, but live in a cave?”
Stephanie shrugged. “Hermes likes to send things over, but lots of things naturally get washed up here too.”
“Like me.”
Stephanie burst out laughing from such a simple reply and it filled Cassandra’s stomach with butterflies. The sound of enjoyment and happiness in her voice was just so perfect.
“You’re not a goddess, right?” Cassandra asked. She had to be sure.
Stephanie shook her head. She seemed to hesitate before answering, “No, but I am an immortal titaness.”
“A titaness of an island that I happened to wash up on,” Cassandra reiterated. Maybe she had hit her head too hard while she was unconscious and half-dead, but the realization of who exactly Stephanie had finally caught up. “Daughter of Atlas, banished by the gods… to this remote island. Powerful sorceress too.”
Stephanie’s eyes looked sadder, like Cassandra had said something wrong. “That’s all correct, brave one, but you seemed to have skipped over the most important part of my tale. Was that on purpose?”
Cassandra felt her face grow hot. Of course, she knew, but she wasn’t sure if it was appropriate to bring up or not. “You… fall in love with the heroes that come here. Then, they leave. Tim told me… about you once.”
Read more here <3
#dc comics#cassandra cain#stephanie brown#stephcass#batfamily#batman#fanfic#fanfiction#ao3#ao3fic#ao3 author#writing#percy jackson au#calypso
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Hey so a woman just died in my area after falling into our local creek, so I think I should maybe make a PSA about water safety! Do be aware though that I am not an expert on the matter - although I’ve studied various disasters and accidents, many of which are relevant to this, and am basing much of my information here on outside sources, some of this comes from my own experience and local wisdom, which may be incorrect or misinterpreted. I’m only trying to spread awareness, and if any of my information is incorrect please don’t hesitate to correct me.
Be careful around water, folks, especially moving water. Even if a creek looks small and relatively tame, the current can still be a huge threat (consider, for instance, the Bolton Strid in England); this tends to be worse during rainy periods or, in snowy areas, springtime when the snow is melting, but the hazard doesn’t necessarily go away at other times. Don’t go into water if you’re not sure it’s safe, and on a similar note be careful not to fall in. The banks of rivers and streams can be unstable and might collapse or simply be deceptively steep, and of course it’s possible to just slip or fall while walking nearby (I imagine this is probably what happened to the victim in my area, but I don’t have the full details so that’s more of an educated guess).
Also, immersion in water puts you at risk for hypothermia, even if it’s not especially cold. I live in a mountainous area and the creek comes straight down from the mountains, so it’s extremely cold, meaning there’s an added risk for something called cold shock - a set of involuntary responses to sudden immersion in cold water, including gasping, hyperventilation, and even heart problems - if you fall in unprepared. However, even relatively warm water can lead to hypothermia fairly quickly, as water drains your body heat far faster than air. The best example I can think of is the sinking of the Lusitania, in which many victims died of hypothermia in water that was around 50 degrees Fahrenheit or about 10 degrees Celsius - this temperature is by no means warm, but it’s not something that would immediately make most people think of hypothermia as a cause of death. Due to the aforementioned tendency of water to sap a person’s body heat, even water that might not be considered “cold” can have dangerous consequences, as seen with many of the Lusitania victims as well as those involved in countless other tragedies. Hell, I remember spending hours in some friends’ swimming pool when I was younger, only to get out for a bathroom break and find that my lips had turned blue from the cold despite it being a controlled environment in very hot weather!
Less related to this specific local case, storms are also a major hazard. Storms can and do cause flash flooding, which is extremely dangerous; even if water looks shallow, it can still be deadly, as only 6 inches (15 centimeters) of fast-moving flood water can be enough to knock over an adult, and 12 inches (one foot; 30 centimeters) can carry away cars. A large portion of drowning deaths in the United States occur because people attempt to walk or drive through flooded areas and are swept away. Flash floods are commonly caused by storms or dam failures, and dry or rocky areas can be especially susceptible (for instance, we get them fairly often in my area due to the steep, rocky mountains and dry desert valley). Most flash flood deaths occur because people underestimate the strength and speed of the water; canyons, ravines, and washes can also be hazardous during storms.
So, in summary:
Stay away from fast-moving water, even if it’s just a small creek or stream, unless you’re absolutely sure it’s safe.
Excercise particular caution during rainy seasons and, in snowy areas, warmer conditions that allow for large amounts of snowmelt.
Immersion in water can lead to hypothermia, even if it’s not excessively cold. Be aware of this fact, and of the possibility of cold shock.
Do not attempt to traverse flooded areas, even in a car or truck.
Don’t ignore warnings (both about water and in general).
If it starts to rain while you’re walking or hiking in a canyon, seek higher ground. Personally, I’d take nearby thunder as a warning sign as well, but do exercise caution when traversing high-up areas during a thunderstorm.
Always check the weather forecast before you go out into the wilderness.
Don’t camp or shelter in ditches, canyons, or washes during stormy conditions. This also includes sheltering from tornadoes; as a child growing up in Arkansas I was always warned not to take shelter in a ditch due to the risk of flash floods, although admittedly I’d rather hide in a dry ditch than get torn up by shrapnel.
If someone falls into dangerous water, don’t go after them unless you’re properly trained and equipped (i.e. trained rescue personnel with safety gear and backup). Call emergency services instead - you don’t want to get in the way of rescuers or, worse, become another casualty.
Again, please be careful around water. It’s a legitimate hazard and often gets underestimated. A good way to visualize how powerful water can be is this (admittedly humorous) video of a construction vehicle dumping a bucket of water on a car, destroying it. Stay safe out there, folks!
#again i am not an expert please also do your own research#psa#water safety#flooding#flash floods#death tw#drowning tw#safety tips
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The Crazy Line
everything older than this post is crazy
I think I have my people problem figured out now. I don't know how I'd explain it exactly, but being unable to explain things is part of the problem. So, I can only explain it for me.
I have two core differences, both probably because I'm an autistic weirdo.
One, I have little or no affective empathy, I care deeply but I don't know what others are feeling.
Two, my mental connections are stronger, more strict than others'.
And there were largely two factors that made me how I was.
One, since before I can remember, my father punished me for being different. Usually for stereotypically autistic behavior, I either got yelled at or hit with the belt. But I couldn't figure out what I'd done wrong, or why it was wrong. So I learned that I just deserve it for being anything that I am. I learned to hate myself. I lived with constant fear and anguish, and any good feelings I had would be drowned out.
Two, I can't connect with anyone. Others' acceptance and understanding, for me, isn't. Anything others could do would only reinforce my self-loathing. So, no one could have saved me.
It gets more complicated from there. Nothing ever made any sense to me because of my thinking being different, and often I was afraid to even ask because I'd been punished for asking in the past. I really don't know how humans work. And I've got a lot of thoughts and feelings I don't understand and don't know how to process. The loathing left me unable to think and feel on my own. And trying to integrate others' ideas in my thinking really messed me up. I got swept away by a few ideologies, and an innumerable amount of little things. And it.. I dunno how to phrase it, made me crazy? when it inevitably collapsed. Like, I'm a stupid, evil piece of shit for not thinking, feeling, understanding the right things, but the right things are wrong too. The stress and frustration from that was what fucked up my heart the first time. The worst was people not giving me straight answers, contradicting themselves to my face, apparently refusing to understand me. It looks like everything people say is a lie, and everything they do is a bad facade. But I know they must be genuine, because if they were trying to deceive then they'd make it plausible. I know now it's just a difference in how we think. If I ever lashed out at you, it was probably because of this.
Although, despite being overwhelmed with rage and frustration at times, I never meant to hurt anyone. I really don't understand how that works. It seems like people work on an emotional 'call and response' system. Like they want you to see what they're feeling, and they want to see you feeling the appropriate thing with regard to what they were feeling. But that doesn't work in either direction for me. And I really didn't have any agency to decide what I did or said. I was basically trying to suppress everything all the time, so whatever I did were the things I could not control.
Things didn't get any better until I lost all hope for human connection. With no one to hide from, my feelings started coming out. The pain and stress of it fucked up my heart again, and on the way back from the hospital I decided I couldn't go on hating myself. In just letting myself imagine things, I stumbled upon my own inner voice for the first time in my life. It helped me start processing things. But ultimately I had to short-circuit my need for acceptance, belonging, love. I have to imagine sharing things with someone else, and then imagine them sharing that same thing with me. I am, at time of writing, becoming able to feel joy again.
I don't know who I am yet, or what I'm going to do with myself.
But, for real this time,
I'm not broken anymore.
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Chapter 1: My Darling Dumb Brother…is dead?
“Where is he?”
I’ve just returned from spending time with my Aunt for 9 months and can’t find my brother.
“My lady…”
“Answer me.”
“He’s 6 feet away my lady…”
“What do you mean Ronald?”
“…”
Why won’t he answer me?
“What. Do. You. Mean. By. 6. Feet. Away.”
“6 feet down below our feet my lady..”
I find myself grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and slamming him to the ground before leaving and coming back with a shovel and handing it to Ronald.
“Dig. Him. Up.”
“Lady Bishop-“
“Dig. Him. Up.”
“Yes ma’am…”
Ronald then began to dig my brother out of the ground and I gently placed my hand to his cold dead chest and he slowly awoke coughing up blood as I turn him into a snake temporarily till he can heal. It’ll be easier to help him this way..
Maybe I can convince father he’s just a snake and to help him. Or aunt Charlotte could help. It seems my dear Richard has been dead awhile now…
“My lady- how’d- How did you-“
“No need to worry Ronald. A woman never tells her secrets. Anyways, how long has my brother been dead without you telling me?”
“He’s… he’s been dead since a month after you left Catherine..”
“So my brother died 8 months ago and no one has fucking cared to tell me?”
I can feel my blood boiling and as much as I love Ronald as a person I want to murder him currently.
“Well my lady- you were with your aunt and nobody wanted to interrupt that time you two had together.”
“First of all fuck you. Second of all I will not hesitate to call my father and tell him you called America a filthy trash pit of all the people the other countries didn’t want again and he will kill you.”
“My lady, we both know Patrick would never listen to you.”
Ah crap. He caught my bluff.
“I- well I-“
We hear a gruff and choked voice from the ground,
“Sis, mind help-helping me up? Gods this hurts like hell. Feels like I’ve slept like the dead though”
Before I can catch myself I feel my body rushing into my brother and giving him a large hug. It’s easy to forget how nice it is to hug your idiot siblings.
“Sis…I was dead wasn’t I…”
“Mhm…”
“How’d you-“
“Doesn’t matter.”
I’m livid and it’s clear but I help him get up and I lead him through the garden into the manor we live in.
See, it wasn’t always this way, me,Richard,Ronald,Constantine,Stacy,Alistair, and two others who don’t live here with us were all stuck in a couch for many years, me and my brother the longest.
Me and Richard were stuck in our fathers cursed couch for 400 years. Our mother told us the story of our father,Patrick Alarie,
A demonic snake god who is the son of Satan that married our mother and had us. Then our mother, Alice Bishop, saved our town by drowning Patrick in holy water.
I vaguely remember him back then since I was 5. Mostly just the fact that some towns people tried to drown me and my brother because we inherited our fathers deep red eyes with snake pupils.
I’m getting of topic but, mother when we were 15 told me and Richard the story thinking we were old enough to not be idiots. Low and Behold my brother later that night comes to me talking about summoning our father and as an idiot I agree.
Patrick ripped one eye out of each me and my brother and put them in his couch then locked us in the couch as snakes for nearly 400 years.
The two of us only got out because a group of teenagers that really hate our dad destroyed the couch.
Inside the couch it was dark. Unexplainably dark. A void with absolutely nothing. I tried to scream from inside but nothing came out.
All of a sudden we fell into the real world. A bright and sudden burst of color and noise.
Now, Here we are. Twins who are now 16 that know just enough American history to maybe pass a 4th grade test on it.
Back to reality now.
“Richard dear, who killed you”
“Some guy”
I roll my eyes, very hard, at my brother.
“Some guy with a creepy ass smile”
“Mhm… go on”
“Some guy with a creepy ass smile,black swept over hair,bloodshot eyes and a shitty suit”
“And what did he do to you Richard?”
“stabbed me. He broke into the house and I tried to defend the others and in the process I died.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah…”
Who the hell thinks they can just come in here and murder my brother. He’s my fucking twin.
I lift my petticoats and run to my room to grab my crowbar then run out of the white Marble mansion, running over the garden smashing flowers and plants me and Stacy spent weeks working on.
I run for awhile not really knowing where I’m going, the wind trying to push me back as I run through the fields and woods and towns, then I pause. I have no clue who did this to my brother and now I have no clue where I am. Damnit.
A strange man that takes awhile to recognize appears on the street. I don’t realize who he is because he’s wearing a new suit along with a mask.
Normally he wears a blue suit with a red,white and blue tie and also normally he allows his form to be around a normal tall human size.
Today my..father decided to appear in a form that stands roughly at 8 foot tall and is in a blood red suit and tie with black lining.
“Father.”
“Oh sweet Catherine~ how are you today?”
“Father shut up.“
“Who’s the immortal snake god here”
As he says this he summons a snake and I roll my eyes at him. My father is an insufferable prick.
“Dad,I’m not here to fight you. Someone killed Richard”
“Oh yay! Bout time that little shit died! Want to have a party?”
He snaps his fingers and American flag party hats pops on our heads
“I have the ability to bring people back from the dead, Father.”
“Damn it kid. You got my hopes up for nothing?”
He snaps again and the party hats disappear.
“Father I’m off to go figure out this bullshit.”
Compared to my father in this tall form I am very short, so I decide it’s the perfect time to hit him in the balls with my crowbar before continuing out through the woods. I hear him groan and I look back to see him vanish in a pop of rainbow glitter.
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Second poem dump
Cinderella - Seeing Red
Sometimes I reach into the sky and find nothing
And the rain simply pours down on me, another form of vacancy
The path I walk is unmarked, incomplete
Or you could say there’s no path leading me at all
That there’s nothing
“But I see you!” says someone who doesn’t know me
“But I love you!” says another who’s seen through me
Truly
Yes, I am desperate for love
Yes, I long to be seen
No, I’m not a fool
And no, I’m sure I enjoy performing!
(Go monitor your own damn lives!)
I crave to have perfect pitch
To know the sound of each key
To be like the octaves Oktavia feels at heart
She’s been a role model to me
Leave me alone! Bitch!
I don’t need you telling me it isn’t a practical career
I know, all too well, that being famous and successful…
Well, let’s say I know the music I make won’t land on everyone’s ear
I mean, it only makes sense!
Look at her, look at him
Look at this, look at that
Look at xer, look at zem
Look at each and every stat
Simply put, my chances are slim
People all around me say “Wow, you must be smart!”
Well if you really thought so, what would do?
Would that change how you approached me from the start?
If the answer is no
then what does it matter
If the answer is yes
Why does no one say so!
Is it because of resentment and jealousy?
Or is it simply a form of stupidity and self-sabotage?
Is it because of embarrassment and self-centeredness
Or is it simply a form of apathy, the lack of empathy
Do achievements only get noticed if it reaffirms themselves?
Are accomplishments only worthy if you can pull others into your spells?
No! Let me finish already!
I don’t care what you think
It isn’t your business to decide for me!
I don’t care what you believe
You can say what you want, you don’t want me free!
You think your words are sacred, like Adam and Eve
Before that story in the Bible where they ate from ‘that Tree’
But I have the knowledge of good and evil
And apparently to you this seems trivial
I am not your child anymore
I won’t be controlled, or pinned to your floor
I will not be contained, as the days that remain, all continue in pain, all slowly tick down, and the ‘talks’ will flare up
You might get upset, up here though?
I’ll scowl at you forever
I’ll make you scarred once I finally sever the tethers and leave you behind
You’ll be tattered and scattered, and I’ll be rather pleased to have you bettered
I’ll make you wish you were a dirt poor debtor
Your reputation will plummet to ash, and you’ll be swept away like trash
Your dread will sink in
You’ll realize your trapped
Unable to walk
Unable to dash
Unable to move
And not even your cash
Can save you.
Sometimes you’ll reach into the sky and grasp a void
And the rain will simply drown you, the you who is nothing
Your path will be marked, ‘Your days are numbered’
Or you could say there’s no path to walk at all
That there’s nothing
Nothing but the end
Nothing but null
Nothing left until you hear death’s toll
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I don’t think i’m happy.
i don’t think i’m happy and i have literally no idea what to do. the only think keeping me alive is the guilt i would face as my dog would most likely be treated poorly by my family in my absence.
I’ve tried everything. reading, indulging in video games and nature, hanging out with friends, but nothing seems to quell the impending, suffocating thoughts of ending it all.
I lay awake most nights, so sad and lost that it leaves me exhausted the next day; thus, the cycle continues.
not only am i irritable and exhausted, but i have grown to be boring, and none of my friends like hanging out with me, adding onto my growing feelings of worthlessness. i’ve lost all motivation and my only form of comfort comes from images conjured in my head as i think of a better life and what i could have done differently to obtain it.
i used to be smart, interestingly enough, someone people look up to and ask for advice. now, i am so unfeeling that i have no idea how to respond to such questions of “can you make me feel better” or “what should i do”.
part of blames my family for making me this messed up; the abuse, the neglect (emotional and physical) and the hereditary illnesses which plague my mind and thoughts and perspectives. i know it’s not their fault, but that is what mental illness does to a person yk?
i could get help, sure, but at this point in my life, i don’t want it. i’m perfectly content laying in my bed and wasting away while dreaming of the most perfect (unobtainable) life.
i feel sorry for my family and my friends for what i may one day put them through, but i cannot continue. i am going nowhere in life, which leaves little to yearn for should things miraculously get better. my grades are less than average, my appearance even more so. my failure in life will haunt me until i am no longer feeling, and until then do i feel i would be truly content.
no one even knows who i truly am, and i am too insecure and afraid of rejection to allow even the slightest bit of my personality shine through the facade of the “kind, smart, talented” version of “me”. i feel like an actress more than i feel like myself; simply putting on a show to prove to the people around that i am okay and am not currently drowning in a sea of self-loathing and regret.
I would feel most sorry for my father, who was never really around and was swept away in the monstrous waves of drugs, struggling to break the surface. i feel guilt when i think of his overdose, because i was living with him before that point, trying to help him get his love back together. however me and my stupid, insecure, angry brain had to mess it all up with one single argument. i cried every night when it happened, silently blaming myself if he ended up dying. i told my mom of this one time, finally opening up to which she quickly shut down with a “your dads a drug addict— once a drug addict, always a drug addict. it would have happened either way”. honestly, i was more comforted knowing that i may have potentially triggered this overdose than knowing that my presence would never have an affect on the man that i love most. which, let’s face it, is really messed up.
I have yet picked a date, but i had spoiled my family and closest friends knowing that this year would be my last.
i am just not happy, and do not see it changing anytime soon.
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iwaizumi was... overwhelmed, to say the least.
the past few days had been such a whirlwind of change that hajime could barely properly process, much less appropriately react to it all, so he behaved much like a zombie, saying yes when prompted, signing papers when told, and packing up what was his entire life for the past 11 months.
wow. iwaizumi collapsed on his bed as he scanned his now barren bedroom. he’d been here for almost a year and yet, all his belongings were in boxes within a couple of days.
hajime couldn’t keep the disbelieving chuckle from escaping his chest as he leaned back on his bed, dark brown eyes trained on the ceiling.
it felt like he’d spent such a large chunk of his life trapped in this house, under the foot of the woman who he thought he’d marry but in reality, he’d been in little leagues longer than he’d been in love.
iwaizumi scoffed and rolled his eyes. yeah, “in love”. it’d been about a week since his whole life started to unravel and he had hardly seen, let alone spoken to meiko throughout that entire time.
over text, she’d sworn up and down that she loved and cared about him but as she passed by him packing his things a few days ago, she’d barely spared him a second glance.
hajime wasn’t going to lie. it hurt. he’d opened his heart up to her, something he didn’t do easily, and she’d taken his trust and used it to twist him into her weapon.
he always believed he was stronger than this — he’d never forget his mother telling him so when he was younger. he had fallen and scraped his knee yet he refused to cry to keep from upsetting his mom. iwaizumi existed to live up to what his mother thought of him but here he was, completely enveloped in meiko’s shit, doing her dirty work and following her bidding like some mutt.
god, toorū was right. he really was her bitch.
“i could hear you thinking from down the hall, iwa-chan.” speak of the devil...
oikawa stood at his doorway, leaning against the frame with a posture that seemed relaxed at first glance but if you looked a little closer, you’d notice the tenseness in his shoulders and the tightness of his smile.
hajime quickly sat up on his bed before motioning for his old friend to enter. “uh, yeah,” he began, his voice cracking a little from disuse, “i have a lot to think about.”
the light haired brunette let out an understanding hum before wandering into the room, sharp observant eyes darting to look at all the empty walls. “looks like you’re all packed.”
“pretty much,” iwaizumi nodded before the room fell into an awkward silence, the two childhood friends completely avoiding one another’s eyes.
“look, i-“
“iwa-chan, i’m-“
they both paused for a moment before bursting into laughter, the sound carrying into the hall and throughout the house.
hajime wiped a few stray tears from his eyes, shaking his head at their awkwardness. “you first, shittykawa.”
toorū gasped in halfhearted mock offense before quickly sobering up, training iwaizumi with a completely serious look. “i’m sorry and before you go on some bullshit, self sacrificing rant, you’re not the only one to blame for what happened to our friendship.”
he sighed while making his way to iwaizumi’s bed, sitting down gently beside him. “i should’ve known better, okay? i shouldn’t have let my jealousy and insecurities get in between us but i guess i got swept up in the attention, yknow? meiko is actually charming when she wants to be.”
iwaizumi nodded in agreement, knowing all too well how compelling meiko could be. the room fell into a more comfortable silence as both boys escaped into their thoughts, questions about the future of their friendship flitting throughout their minds.
“oh!” oikawa was pulled out of his own head at hajime’s exclamation, his eyes moving to observe his friend dig through his pockets to procure a thick white envelope. “here. i’d like you to give this yn.”
all toorū could do was nod, his brain short circuiting at the sight of iwaizumi’s apparent kindness to the woman he tormented for so long. “uh, what’s in it?” he ventured to ask, his soft hands toying with the sealed envelope flap.
a soft chuckle came from across the bed. “don’t be so nosy toorū, just give it to her, yeah?” oikawa rolled his eyes but obliged, the bed creaking as he stood to his feet.
“so... this is it, huh?” it was like the reality of the situation was just now sinking in — they hadn’t been close in a while but iwaizumi was still his best friend and he wasn’t quite ready to let him go.
they’d been through so much together, practically growing up together and now, they’d only see each other on holidays, if even then, and then he’d never be invited to hajime’s wedding as his best man as they’d planned and he also wouldn’t be the coolest uncle/godfather of iwa���s children and—
“fuck no,” hajime scoffed with a bright grin on his face. “thought you were gonna annoy me til the end of time shittykawa. don’t tell me you’re quitting your job now.”
the hidden meaning behind iwaizumi’s words brought tears to oikawa’s eyes and before he could stop himself, he launched his body into iwa’s arms. hajime hesitated, his hands stuttering at toorū’s sides as though he’d forgotten how to hug but the feeling passed, his arms winding around his friend’s lithe waist.
“‘m gonna miss you hajime,” oikawa’s voice came out as a broken whimper, his arms tightening around his shoulders.
iwaizumi hummed instead of responding, too afraid of his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. they stood there for a moment but the honk of the moving truck outside signaled the both of them of their limited time.
hurriedly, oikawa wiped the tears off his cheeks before waving awkwardly at iwaizumi as he left the room with a friendly, “don’t be a stranger.”
and then he was gone.
toorū finally allowed himself to collapse into sobs on his best friends empty bed, his palms pressing into his eyes as he sat there and just let himself feel.
apparently, he wasn’t crying very quietly because it took only a few moments for you to find him, your soft footsteps alerting him to your presence. oikawa scrambled to wipe away what he knew was an unattractive mixture of tears and snot as you got closer.
you were one of the last people he wanted to see him like this.
“hey,” you whispered, standing a few feet away from him. “um, i know this is probably a bad time but i just wanted to thank you for apologizing? back at the awards show?”
toorū sniffed as he looked up at you with confusion written on his face. “what? you shouldn’t thank me for apologizing. ‘s common courtesy.”
you laughed softly, nodding in agreement. “well, not always. so, thank you.” finished with your piece and not too keen on lingering where you weren’t wanted, you moved towards the door but were swiftly stopped before you got there.
“um, here. it’s from iwa-chan.” you gaped at the thick envelope oikawa was handing you before taking it and opening it, a low curse falling from your lips.
inside the package was a dense wad of cash, more money than you’d seen in months. accompanied with it was a letter, written in beautifully loopy handwriting.
you shut it quickly before oikawa could see, stuffing the envelope deep within your pocket where you could access it alone in the depths of your room.
“do you wanna come eat? last i heard, bokuto and tsumu were doing a cooking competition and i’m sure it’ll be fun to watch.” you were severely thrown off by the money and letter but you were determined to show toorū that you’d accepted his apology and were on your way to making amends.
he gave you a shy nod and trailed behind you to the kitchen, the loud sounds of fire and screaming coming from down the hall. you wanted to focus on the fun and merriment but the envelope was practically burning a hole in your pocket.
later that night, you finally got the chance to open the letter and read it, your former manager’s words bringing tears to your eyes.
dear yn,
i’m probably the last person you expected to hear from. you probably didn’t want to hear from me at all if i’m being honest and i don’t blame you. i know there is nothing i can say that could make up for what i’ve done to you but i’d like to try.
i’m sorry. those words don’t nearly express in and of themselves how truly remorseful i am but they needed to be said. there’s no excuse for how i treated you — not meiko, not my stress, absolutely nothing.
you deserved my common decency and respect and i didn’t give that to you. instead, i abused my position and made your life hell. i’ll never forgive myself for that.
uh, i bet you’re wondering what the money is? i promise i’m not trying to pay you off, it’s just all the money i’ve denied you since you moved here. i have a lot of wrongs to right and this is one of them.
sorry, i’m not very good with words but i just wanted you to know that i’m very sorry for everything that i’ve done. and i’m in no place to make demands or anything but i just wanted to ask if you’d keep an eye on oikawa for me.
he’s strong but he’s also vulnerable. he might be a pain in my ass but he’s my best friend and since i can’t keep him from drowning, i was wondering if you’d do that - not for me but for him.
anyways, this letter is shit but i suppose you get the gist. use the money for whatever you want and if you’re as unselfish as i’ve heard, you don’t owe me anything. you don’t owe me money, kindness, or forgiveness.
take care of yourself,
iwaizumi hajime
℗ poker face
so... this is it
series masterlist
(●’◡’●)ﾉ
an - soooo m back :D hopefully this is the last of my mini hiatuses!! this chapter sucked to write but i’m not mad at how it turned out?? pls let me know how i did skjdkd don’t forget to feed me <3333
taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you
@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @katsulovee • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @syndellwins • @jooleuuh • @loubells • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saikishairclip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp
the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!
#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader#hq x reader#hq smau#haikyuu x reader smau#haikyuu smau#haikyuu#hq x reader smau#haikyuu angst#hq angst#haikyuu fluff#hq fluff#atsumu x reader#osamu x reader#kenma x reader#kuroo x reader#bokuto x reader#akaashi x reader#daichi x reader#sugawara x reader#oikawa x reader#iwaizumi x reader#sakusa x reader#tw toxicity#tw toxic relationship#tw toxic behavior#tw toxic people#haikyuu social media au#hq social media au#℗ poker face
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1:02 AM | SANO MANJIRO
you really shouldn’t be here.
“do you remember that time i caught you and emma spying on me and kenny at the pool?” mikey asks, smile tilting his lips as he takes another swig of his drink.
“we were not spying!” you retort, face heating up even as you wave him off with a laugh. “we were just… making sure you two idiots didn’t drown or something.”
“pfft, okay. i’m sure that’s exactly what it was.” and how he smiles at you, something dripping off the edges of his lips that never fails to make your stomach twist, makes you want to crawl under your chair.
you shouldn’t be here—you should be at home, in bed, sleeping because you have to work a double shift tomorrow (well today, really). you should be swept away by fatigue and dreaming of the stupid man in front of you instead of actually being in his presence. in fact, you should be anywhere but here.
and yet, you don’t stop mikey as he leans forward to refill your glass—an unspoken order to stay just a little bit longer.
“it was! you almost drowned once you know.” your grin widens as he rolls his eyes, reaching over the table to point a finger in your face.
“yeah, because you held my head under the water!”
“because you called me icky!”
“because you tried to kiss me!”
“because i had a crush on you!”
the sharp intake of breath has your eyes widening, cheeks nearly scalding as you avert your gaze down to the liquid in front of you. you lean back in your chair, cursing yourself for letting that dirty little secret slip.
and it shouldn’t even matter now. you were kids then, everyone had silly little crushes on their friends when they were that young. everyone fawned over each other just a little bit. but not everyone keeps that little crush festering inside them after all these years like you did, which is admittedly the worst decision you’ve ever inflicted on yourself.
your chest isn’t fluttering anymore, but rather the butterflies seem to have grown heavy weighted wings as it all sinks to your stomach. you want to go, leave before you can embarrass yourself even further, but it’s like you’re glued to your seat.
“i guess emma wasn’t lying then.”
you snap your head up to mikey, confusion etching in your brow as you watch him stand up from the table, chair scraping against the floor. he walks around the table, eyes never leaving you as he takes step after step closer.
“what?” you mumble, swallowing slightly as he stops beside your chair.
“she told me you liked me, but i figured she was just lying. trying to have me make a fool of myself by confessing, you know,” he answers, placing his hand on the back of your chair and leaning down to your level. there’s an easy grin on his lips, but it’s a little cocky, a little smug. “seven years later and you’re still head over heels, huh?”
you want to deny it, even if it’s just to wipe that stupid look off his face, but you can’t. so instead you just try to turn your head away again—only to be stopped by the fingers that grip your chin, bringing you back to look to mikey. who is suddenly a whole lot closer than he was a second ago.
“hey, yn,” he whispers, low and sweet and addicting. “if you try to kiss me this time i promise i won’t call you icky.”
that teasing tone of his is long gone, replaced by a honey like tang that has you subconsciously leaning in before you can stop yourself. that tricky little glint in his eye has flickered to that of genuineness, warm and welcoming and drawing you in by the second. and you start to wonder, since you’re this close, if he’s always had those freckles by the edges of his eyes.
you don’t get much more time to think about it before there are lips pressing into yours, molding in a way that feels criminally perfect against your mouth. mikey smiles against them as he hears you hum, your hand fisting the front of his shirt to try to tug him ever closer, like you’ve been waiting for this.
then again, you have, haven’t you?
he pecks your lips one more time as he pulls away, like he just can’t help it, leaning up just enough to be able to look down into your eyes.
“if i knew it’d be like that i definitely wouldn’t have shoved you off of me into the pool,” he laughs, causing a chuckle of your own to slip out of your mouth as you smooth out your hand on his chest.
“so not icky, huh?” you ask, biting the edge of your lip at the proximity that mikey is still holding with you.
“so not icky,” he smirks, surging down to place another quick kiss to your lips before straightening back up and reaching for your hand. then he’s tugging you out of your seat, towards his apartment door.
“where are we going?” and it’s stupid how you laugh as you say it, giggling like a dumb schoolgirl around her crush for the first time, watching him undo the locks on his door.
“there’s a pool at the hotel across the street,” mikey answers, tugging you out the door without even putting his shoes on, or grabbing towels for the matter. “i wanna go for a swim.”
“and if we get caught?”
mikey’s eyes light up in a way you haven’t seen in years as he looks over his shoulder at you, so bright and utterly happy that it nearly makes you dizzy. he squeezes your hand in his grasp, bangs falling in his face, dimple poking into his cheek. you want to kiss him again.
“then you can drown me.”
reblogs appreciated !
#ew i kinda don’t like this#BUT ALSO MIKEY !#anw yea here take this mkay#tokyo revengers#tokyo revengers x reader#tokyo revengers x you#tokyorev#tokyorev x reader#tokyorev x you#tokyo revengers x yn#tokyorev x yn#tokyo revengers fluff#tokyorev fluff#tokyorev drabbles#tokyo revengers drabbles#mikey#mikey x reader#mikey x you#mikey x yn#mikey x y/n#mikey fluff#mikey drabbles#mikey fic#sano manjiro#sano manjiro x reader#sano manjiro x you#sano manjiro x y/n#sano manjiro fluff#sano manjiro fic#sano manjiro drabble
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