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iampikachuhearmeroar · 3 years

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yknow while this hellsite continues on the whole religion discussion thing, i’d like to jump in on it with my experience particularly with leaving catholic school.

like aside from my angsty pop-punk/emo etc teen phase (which’ll obvs be weaved into story later on) that led me to have different views from the church and aside from the whole sexism thing that i endured over my year 10 formal/junior prom in 2010 and 2011 from staff there….. i found it within myself incredibly hard to leave there… mostly because i’d known literally 1/3 of my year group at catholic school since kindy/kindergarten or some other point in primary school.

this affected my choice to leave and it was quite tumultuous inwardly. knowing the safety and predictably of the people i was with for all those years was a comfort to me. i knew their parents due to parent mixer bbqs that we’d have after mother’s day and father’s day liturgies- although i hated the mother’s day ones mostly, due to personal reasons. but to leave that comfortable place for overly loyal, kinda sorta shy (although everyone who knew me at that school wouldn’t’ve described me as shy bc i was a very loud show off because of drama class 😅) and by year 10, very lonely, highly socially anxious and depressed, teen me was terrifying. it meant losing her friends and stability and she obvs hated that thought. it meant leaving the one one place she ever felt good at something, drama class.

obviously, after she did leave for public school, she visited the catholic school on a few separate occasions, to try and keep the connection “alive” or whatever the fuck she wrote in a fake deep status on her fb (that i now get in my fb memories every year lmao). but it all ended pretty badly, when everyone from that school stopped talking to her once high school finished. no one invited her out. or if people did try to invite her out, like a couple of people did, it always fell through…. and it made her feel like she was just a bad luck charm or whatever other low self esteem talk she was telling herself. there was quite a few moody statuses around that too lmao.

but yeah. leaving catholic school was a massive thing for me back then, because even though i hadn’t gone to church on sunday for literal Y E A R S at that point; i still had a strong pull to that school because i’d known SO MANY kids at that school from primary/elementary/grade etc school, regardless of their year group level. because if there’s one thing catholic school was good at, it was networking 😂. you knew everyone, and everyone knew you. it was safe, it was sound, so i didn’t want to leave.

but once you leave, you lose your friends and what almost felt like an extended family (although they obvs weren’t). but at the same time, i’d grown to hate the safety and almost insularity of the school, because as i mentioned earlier, you felt like you could predict how people would react or behave in class/events etc.

i felt the above distinctly, because as i’ve mentioned plenty on here, from years 7-10 i was a very emotionally demonstrative kid. in some classes (mostly religion and PE when i was bothered to participate) i’d end up in shouting matches with the teacher or other students…. or y’know just have a casual meltdown in the middle of class, which many people saw as “attention seeking” behaviour. i felt watched, i felt ready to snap, and to quote the ever present All Time Low i felt like the bridge lyrics from “therapy” (which was/is quite obviously somewhat partially about the price of fame and hollywood imo- but that went over teen me’s head at the time lmao):

“arrogant boy, love yourself so no one has to, they’re better off without you (better off without you). arrogant boy, cause a scene like you’re supposed to, they’ll fall asleep without you; you’re lucky if your memory remains”

like yes. i’ll admit those bridge lyrics being applied to this time is rather overdramatic, in hindsight, but hey. that was teen me for ya lmao. and don’t even get me started on applying ATL’s song “sick little games” to this at the time as well 😂😅. anyway. from all the “lms and i’ll tell you what i like about you” trend statuses that people were doing back then on fb, i’d gained the tag of “cool/chill girl”, my crush rich boy, once called me “outrageous” because of how loud i was and how willing in years 7-9 to scream out stupid song lyrics like “i want to fuck dog in the ass” by blink 182, fight song by marilyn manson and then idek probably my humps by black eyed peas at the top my lungs through the very few halls that that school had 😂😅. i was being purposely and annoyingly offensive most of the time.

but eventually, once it came to things like one of the girls in my group wanting to run for vice school captain and the other girls in my group A L W A Y S being given leadership positions (LPs)….. while i always had to apparently “repent” my behaviour by being made (in theory from my teachers) to sit alone at lunch because of my “embarrassing” and “unseemly” behaviour at the so-called “training”/ “retreat” days we had for things like being peer support leaders for the new cohort of year 7s etc etc. i felt like everyone was just waiting for me to leave…. and that they couldn’t stand my “embarrassing” presence and that i’d ruin my friends chances of being selected as co-captain or whatever other bullshit LPs they wanted to run for. but still. i felt like i couldn’t leave. just. how do you leave a bunch of people that you’ve known for so long???

and even when my teachers were nice enough to give me a chance in a leadership position once; in that dastardly bullshit internet safety workshop thing that they should’ve literally just hired a professional workshop co. to do….. but to save money they used students in my year group instead. so, instead of being marked by my teachers on this program; i was marked by the catholic education office. they had a lady come in from the ceo to judge/mark us while presenting…… and this lady went off at teen me for “not being professional, responsible and respectful” or whatever the fuck the woman told 15/16yo me…. which teen me then fired back with “i don’t have to be fucking professional and responsible!!!! IM FUCKING 15!!!!”.. so from then on i was never given an LP or any other type of “peer support” role against my friends who were littered with offers for them. mind you, i did call a whole room of 14 year olds “a bunch of cunts” or the like and then stormed out thinking that i’d made a solid point, so the CEO woman had a good reason 😂😅….. again in hindsight.

of course there was also the bitterness of teen me being angry at the english dept for not giving her a spot in the top class of english in her half of the year. but as i’ve said previously on other posts, i’ve forgiven this because i did essentially fail one shakespeare in class assessment in year 8 or year 9 😂. but i strongly felt this during my time at catholic school bc my friends believed that i should’ve been in the top english class too lmao.

but aside from those troubles and foibles, i still found it incredibly hard to leave. to leave the perceived closeness of that group of girls, who would sometimes walk me down to the office and sit with me in “purple room” while i waited for the teacher that had to act as my therapist almost lmao. even though i always told my friends to leave me be and go back to class bc i felt bad about dragging them out of class for so long.

but yeah. with all the above behaviour, the song lyrics to me at the time made sense bc teen me just felt so pressured to fit into the whole “funny, cool, outrageous girl” bs box that people had put her in…. but at the same time she wanted to escape it bc she was just *flyleaf voice* SO SICK of being laughed at instead of laughed with (atl weightless reference here kids) just because… like she DESERVED to be taken seriously for fucks sake, and not a be a “monkey do funny dance” person… she obvs felt this the most in drama class. where in the shakespeare unit, she picked a medley of romeo and juliet and taming of the shrew monologues to do for her monologue. although she nearly did lady macbeth throwing herself off the tower, to be hella edgy…. but she opted not to do that in the end. but she picked serious pieces bc she was sick and tired of being classed as the one trick pony go-to funny person.

okay. this really went off topic. but y’all get the point??? the decision of leaving catholic school was a hell of a ride for little 14-16yo me. it was confusing, terrifying and tied up in years of being overly judged and feeling like people wanted me to leave bc they were sick of me. it was tied up in years of mid-class meltdowns that had become kind of routine for me to have, and that people were just brushing me off as “attention seeking”…. but also ironically waiting for me to snap at any second for another wild shouting match or walkout; which would then make me look like i was “unruly” or “untameable/unmanageable” or whatever the fuck….. but i couldn’t take that anymore, for the final senior years. i HAD to leave it.

again it was hard to leave for loyal little teen me, despite how lonely and isolated she felt. why leave your friends when you’re comfortable??? but also: why stay in this toxic environment where people are just waiting for you to either shut the fuck up and put up with it or just blow up and absolutely lose your shit??? that’s just unhealthy asf. and the only unruly thing that’s happening here is the complete lack of mental health help or management in the aussie education system; but most especially in religious schools.

#life #about me #shut up ilona #ilona’s catholic school memories #ilona’s catholic school rants #sorry it’s another tl;dr in the feels post lmao

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clintbartonswife · 4 years

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i’d trade my life for yours

Pairings: Geralt of Rivia x Jaskier Summary: Jaskier will be loyal to Geralt until his last breath, this he swears. Notes: im sorry. descriptions of torture. mentions rape (not graphic in the slightest, more like an allusion, but tagged it just to be safe), major character death. This is the bad ending, for a nicer ending read the series below :) masterlist || nicer ending (p2)

Jaskier had always felt too much, falling a little bit in love with almost everyone he meets. The seamstress from Beauclair with the deepest green eyes he had ever seen, the knight from Kerack who had muscles the size of Jaskier’s head, the innkeeper and his wife from Rinde who had the warmest smiles he had ever seen.

All loves that he treasured, yet let go after a night or two, the heartache keeping him company until he found another gorgeous person to fall for.

When he finds Geralt at the ripe age of 18 it’s different, for once the bard doesn’t want to leave, a nagging feeling pulling him along the path by the Witcher’s side.

His love grows easily, from that of shallow appreciation of his honey golden eyes to a fierce want to protect his love from those that scorn him in every village they visit, a need to nurture the fragile relationship they were building.

It’s only Jaskier’s luck that the only person to ever intrigue him enough to stay seems to want him to leave, impenetrable walls built around his heart.

So, Jaskier writes songs of their travels, being respectful of Geralt’s boundaries whilst still trying to provide as much tender love and care as he could without scaring the Witcher, all the while falling deeper and deeper in love.

Everything starts to go wrong after the djiin.

He watches through the window as his heart breaks with every thrust of Geralt’s hips, the Witchers disinterest (which he had assumed was general Witchery distance) suddenly making more sense - he just didn’t like Jaskier.

Still the bard stayed, sewing his heart back together with every step he took beside the Witcher. His affectionate touches didn’t falter, not allowing his own personal hurt to affect his Geralt negatively. He still deserved as much softness as he could bring himself to provide - Melitele knows Yennefer wasn’t providing that.

Jaskier funnelled all of his creative energy in to his songs, more and more of them staying in his private notebook, too personal to be sung in front of Geralt, let alone the general public.

After each time they met with Yennefer, Jaskier was there to pick up the broken pieces the Witch left behind, baring the brunt of Geralt’s bad mood for a week after she had gone, heart chipping a little more each time as his hatred for the woman grows.

The last straw was the dragon hunt. The whistling winds whipping Jaskier’s hair in his eyes as Geralt’s words lashed out at him, vicious and hateful.

In the following two weeks, Jaskier drank to forget, falling back into old habits and into strangers beds with a new desperation.

The young farmer with hazel eyes - not as beautiful as Geralt’s. The miller’s daughter with blonde hair - not light enough.

The people begin to blend together, yet it doesn’t work. The heartbreak still radiates through his body, numbing him from any other emotion.

He’s too drunk to register that Cintra has fallen.

Too drunk to hear the rumours of the bounty on his head.

Too drunk to notice the Nilfgaardian soldiers entering the tavern.

Too drunk to defend himself against their arms that steal him away that night.

When he awakens the next morning, head throbbing with the familiar pain of a hangover, Jaskier is hit with a wave of nausea.

Turning his head to the side, he reaches for the bed-side table, blanching when he finds his arms restrained. It takes a few seconds to register that he’s in unfamiliar surroundings: the distinctly tavern smell (of weak ale and piss) gone, the slightly scratchy linens of the bed replaced with a hard wood surface.

Unrestrained panic swelled up in the bard’s chest, his instincts kicking in as he tried to mimic sleep.

‘Just breathe slowly, keep your eyes closed and stay calm’ repeated through his brain, sounding suspiciously like Geralt’s voice.

“-the bastard up yet?”

“He wasn’t the last time I checked, no sir”

“And no sign from the Witcher?”

“None sir”

Jaskier heard a scoff as the door opened, two sets of feet stopping at the side of the chair. Unnerving silence fell for a few seconds, before a heavy kick was given to his ribs, punching the air from his lungs in a loud exhale.

“Now listen here, bard” the bigger of the two men all-but-growled, looming over Jaskier as the singer blinked heavily to clear the daze that had settled over him, “We’re going to make this real simple. You tell us what we need to know, and maybe we wont kill you”

Scrunching his nose in disgust, Jaskier considered his options, “What is it that you want to know?”

Another scoff.

“Maybe he’s not so useless after all” the tall man sneered, exchanging an amused glance with the man stood in the corner, “Tell us where the Butcher of Blaviken is”

Self preservation was forgotten as the nickname stirred up anger deep inside Jaskier, the unfairness choking him, “I’m afraid I don’t know any butchers, not the biggest fan of hanging around long enough in towns long enough to befriend anyone in that profession I’m afraid”

That earnt him a sharp slap, the sting helping to ground him.

“Don’t try to be smart. Where is the Witcher - Geralt of Rivia?”

“Oh, I do know him” Jaskier answered, tone kept light and conversational, “Of course I haven’t seen him in months so I’m afraid I’m really of no use to you gentlemen”

Another slap.

“Now that must be a lie. Why would the Witcher leave his little whore behind?”

Now that one stung, the frown forming on Jaskier’s face before he could stop it.

“Aw, struck a chord with that, did I? He found someone else I assume - though Melitele knows how anyone can lay with a monster like -”

Rage finally overflowing, Jaskier spat in the man’s face, “How dare you call him a monster. He’s a better man than you’ll ever be”

A bitter chuckle, followed by a punch that left the bard tasting copper.

“I think you might actually be in love with that thing” he said, amused, “That just makes this all the more fun”

Jaskier held eye contact with the man, glowering as he slowly spat out the pooled blood onto the floor.

“Tell me where he is”

“No”

Two punches to his stomach, and a hard kick to his shin.

“My sister hurt me worse than that for stealing her brush when we were seven” Jaskier sneered.

“Where is he”

A backhand across the face, followed by three hard kicks to his ribs.

“Toss a coin to your-”

Another heavy kick to his stomach, winding him slightly as he keeled forward, a burning pain spreading over his chest.

“Oh valley of plenty” he wheezed, forcing his head back up to stare at his captor’s face.

The day carried on very much the same, Jaskier working through his repertoire of songs as he was beaten black and blue, the lyrics keeping him focused and alert.

The man in the corner just stood and watched, his silent presence looming over the beating.

“I must say” Jaskier eventually huffed, directing his words at the man in the corner, “Your indifference to this situation is highly annoying. Are you not enjoying the performance?”

His question was met with another heavy hit to his stomach, the skin there surely covered in a patchwork quilt of forming bruises.

“You bore me”

The voice was cold, cutting through the pain like a knife and replacing all feeling in his body with the need to flee, an innate wrongness surrounding the man.

He stepped forward into the light, pink eyes flashing at him, “I think it’s high time we shut you up”

The taller man grinned, a shark-like expression that just added to the bard’s discomfort, moving behind him to grab him by the sides of the head, tilting him so that his neck was bared to the room.

They’re going to slit my throat, Jaskier thought absently, half delirious with pain, this is it.

The slimy tendrils of magic prodding at his mind made Jaskier’s eyes widen in panic, struggling against the bonds in a fruitless effort to get away from the unsettling sensation.

No. No this was so much worse.

He could handle pain. He could handle taunting words and harsh treatment. The one thing Jaskier couldn’t handle was fucking mages.

“No - “ he gasped, voice distorted by the angle of his head, “please-”

Yellow eyes. Lips curled in to a snarl.

The mountain.

“Damn it, Jaskier!”

No. No no no no no no no. Not this. Anything but this.

“Why is it whenever I find myself in a pile of shit these days, its you, shoveling it?”

White hair. Curled fists.

“If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you off my hands”

Wet eyes. Shattered heart. A wasted life.

“Damn it, Jaskier!”

And it looped. Again, and again, and again,

“Ready to talk, bard?”

His eyes fluttered open, eyelids heavy, fighting to remain closed.

“Fuck. You” he hissed, words mangled through gritted teeth.

The mage smirked, fingers reaching for his temple again, “Very well. It seems like one hour wasn’t enough”

The last thought Jaskier had before being pulled back to the mountain was one of horror, that one hour had felt like an entire day.

When he came to once more, Geralt’s voice still ringing in his ears, Jaskier realised there was a new man in the otherwise empty room.

“Going to talk yet little birdy?” the man asked, voice far too light for the circumstances, his posture reminiscent of those that approached him in taverns with hopes of charming him into bed that night.

The realisation occurred to him as he noticed his hands were free, a rusty cot added to the corner of the room.

“No” he whispered, the horror palpable in his tone.

“Well that’s too bad” the man sneered, his too-rough hands dragging him out of the chair and towards the cot.

The irony was that in that moment Jaskier would’ve given anything to have been back on that mountain, Geralt blaming him for everything, rather than be faced with his current reality.

Of course, the mage wasn’t kind enough for that.

Jaskier wasn’t sure how many days had passed since his capture.

What he did know was this: his throat was too sore to speak, ruined from both abuse and lack of water; his body was so mottled that it looked like he had begun rotting, greenish-yellow marks covering almost every inch of his skin; his back shredded by the impromptu whipping session earlier that morning; and he wasn’t sure he could muster a smile, even if informed of the untimely and gruesome death of Valdo Marx.

But, no matter what they threw at him, he would not betray Geralt.

He had made this vow to himself during a quiet moment on (what he guessed was) the second day, that no matter what faced him - be it further torture, mutilation and eventually death - he would not speak a word of the little information he knew.

He may have ruined Geralt’s life, may have annoyed him with his incessant and unwelcome company, but one thing Jaskier could give him now was his undying loyalty, the one thing that no one could take away from him.

They wouldn’t take away his love.

So he breathed steadily as he looked as his hands, tied down firmly to the arms of the chair, taking in every detail of the calloused fingers that made him the famous bard that he was today.

“Last chance. Where is the Witcher”

Jaskier just grinned, the smile bloody and insincere.

“Fucking your mother I would imagine” he croaked, withholding the wince of pain from the strain on his throat, instead widening his grin at the look of anger on the man’s face.

With a growl, the man brought the hammer down heavily on Jaskier’s left ring finger, smiling sickeningly at the bard’s agonised scream.

“Where is he?”

Head fuzzy with pain, Jaskier scowled and spat his blood in the man’s eyes.

The sickening crunch of bone echoed around the small room, Jaskier’s scream ringing out as another two fingers were smashed.

The line of questioning continued until all of his fingers were unrecognisable, the bard humming ‘Fishmonger’s Daughter’ through tears as he tried to regain control of his breathing.

“What a shame” the captor said, fake sympathy swimming in his cold eyes, “Looks like you’re worth even less than you were when we found you. What worth is a bard if he cant play anymore?”

The man pretended to think, tapping his chin thoughtfully, “Of course! A brothel worker!” He paused, tutting again and shaking his head, “No you cant even be that, we’ve made you far too ugly”

Jaskier tried to ignore his words, focusing on his rattling lungs instead, forcing them to inhale and exhale.

Unconsciousness crept forward, the pain finally overwhelming him, Jaskier falling into it’s open arms gladly.

“-cher isn’t coming for him. We’ve had the word out for two weeks and got nothing”

The words drifted in to Jaskier’s cell, the conversation prying him from sleep.

“So what do we do? The bard’s not talking”

“We were meant to give a destination by yesterday”

“So we make one up, blame the bard when it comes back empty”

“… That could work”

“Then I’m guessing we kill him afterwards?”

“Theres no reason to keep him”

“Well-”

“You’re not using army funds to feed just so he can be your personal whore, Cahir would skin you alive if he found out”

Jaskier huffed a laugh at that - the realisation that his worth had finally been reduced to what his father had called him all those decades ago, ‘a worthless whore’, ‘useless to polite society’.

The conversation carried on, though Jaskier’s mind drifted, thoughts racing yet head surprisingly clear. He shifted in his seat, only slightly to the left, wincing as the healing whip wounds on his back pulled open again, the stinging pain keeping him tethered to consciousness.

Not for the first time, he wondered where Geralt was. Safe, that he was sure of, hidden from the greedy eyes of the Nilfgaardian army if their unhappiness was anything to go off of.

Had he found Cirilla yet?

Was Roach okay?

Was he taking proper care of himself?

And - in even his lowest moments - he found himself wondering how Yennefer was.

If she was handling the break-up better than he did.

If she was safe, happy, looked after.

Or maybe, perhaps even back with Geralt. The three of them playing happy families while Jaskier rotted in a cell and waited for a hapless death.

Being on your deathbed gave you a lot of perspective, Jaskier had realised, and he found it hard to even hate Valdo on occasion (until he regained some energy from a piece of stale bread thrown at him and immediately felt disgusted that the thought had even crossed his mind).

As the fog in his brain seemed to seep into his dimming vision, his thoughts returned to Geralt’s eyes.

“Goodnight my love”

The news reached Geralt as they were passing a backwater town.

“The bard Jaskier - I swear it was! They dragged him out t’wards the Nilfgaard base”

“Tom stop jabbering, they would’a been shouting that from the rooftops if they got ‘im”

Coldness seeped into the Witcher’s bones as the words registered in his brain, his eyes flying to Yennefer. The sorceress was looking at him with pity in her eyes.

“I can try scrying-”

“Please”

Ciri watched in awe as Yennefer set up her equipment that night in their camp, bouncing with barely restrained curiosity at all the new instruments that the mage seemed to summon from nowhere.

The young princess’ enthusiasm calmed Geralt slightly, focusing on her youthful movements instead of the dread that settled over him at the thought of Jaskier’s current situation, guilt hitting him every few minutes as he replayed their last conversation.

‘If life could give me one blessing-’

“He’s in Neunreuth” Yennefer said, looking up with a solemn expression, “in a Nilfgaardian fortress”

“They were right” the Witcher breathed, utterly defeated.

“So we’re going to get him right?” Ciri asked, enthusiasm now dampened by the morose mood emanating from the two adults.

“Of course”

Yennefer quirked her eyebrow at his firm reply, before nodding in agreement, “We’ll leave first thing tomorrow”

Geralt knew the second he stepped out of the portal that something was wrong.

“He cant be here” he thought aloud, “It’s been abandoned”

Yennefer frowned, her expression telling him everything she refused to say out loud, “He’s here”

“No”

Striding forwards, the Witcher advanced on the old manor house, nose picking up on the scent of Jaskier’s blood the second he reached the front door.

“No!”

Strides turned in to a sprint as he chased the scent, denial still swirling through his brain as he got closer and closer to the muted wildflower scent.

“Jaskier”

The name fell from his lips as his knees gave out from under him, the sight of his bard’s limp body hanging from the chair punching all the breath from him. The smell of rusted blood was overwhelming, a pool in the corner dating back months.

Geralt sat there, disgusted by himself as he imagined how long Jaskier had waited for him to come and rescue him, how long he had stayed faithful to a monster.

He wasn't worth Jaskier’s life.

He wasn't aware he was crying until Yennefer laid a hand on his shoulder, “Geralt-”

“No” he hissed, struggling to his feet and moving over to the bard, “he cant be dead - he -”

Eyes wild, he turned around to face the sorceress, rising to his full height, “Fix him. I know you can - you did it last time”

“Geralt-”

Anger overtaking him, he pulled Jaskier’s limp body into his arms, unaware of how much his own hands were shaking.

“FIX HIM. YOU NEED TO FIX HIM NOW”

“Geralt stop”

“YOU NEED TO FIX HIM” he shouted, falling to his knees again, cradling the cold body in his arms as he sobbed, “Please fix him, Yen I need - I need you to fix him please”

The woman sighed, brushing a hand over Jaskier’s temple, looking for any sign of life.

“He’s gone"

Geralt’s cries could be heard in the next village over, lasting well into the night.

Not long after, tales of the White Wolf, Princess of Cintra and the Raven Sorceress were spread far and wide, the image of Cahir’s head on a stick engraved in the public’s minds.

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 4 years

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Love Isn’t Always On Part Thirty Nine

Previous Part| Next Part | Masterlist Notes: Not Beta-Read. Just a quick note! I’m starting school this week (aaaahhhhhhhh) so going forward I’m going to try and keep my posts as consistent as possible, but yeah. Just a heads up. I hope everyone’s doing well :) Warnings: None Summary: “... Your mom’s name was Sarah... You used to wear newspapers in your shoes... And you...”

The throbbing in my head had moved from between my temples to the base of my skull. It felt like it was pounding so hard my teeth were chattering with it. I heard ringing in my ears, then the buzzing of helicopters overhead. I groaned quietly as I opened my eyes, looking around the dingy warehouse I found myself in.

“Hey-- Hey, careful,” Steve was kneeling by my side in seconds, speaking softly, cupping my chin to keep my head from tilting, “Don’t move too fast.”

“Where are we?” I asked softly.

"We’re laying low for the time being.” “Sam alright?”

“He’s fine--”

“And you--”

“I’m in one piece, sweetheart, just hold still--”

“Where’s Bucky?” I asked, glancing around.

“He’s... In there. We’ve got his arm in a vice until we know what we’re dealing with.” The unease in Steve’s face told me he didn’t like telling me that as much as I hated hearing it, but I understood. I nodded a little bit, sighing.

“Help me up,” I said, holding a hand out to Steve. “You sure?” Steve frowned, straightening, “You don’t have to--”

“I’m not made of porcelain, Rogers, just gimme a hand.”

Steve did as I requested, pulling me off of the floor. I rested a hand on his chest to steady myself, wincing as I rolled my shoulders.

“Don’t push it,” Steve mumbled. I glanced up at him, a warning in my look, and he shook his head.

“Don’t,” He repeated more softly, “You scared the hell out of me.” I sighed, giving his hand a squeeze.

“I’m sorry,” I said quietly. Steve nodded, leaning in and pressing a kiss to my head.

“Cap!” We turned as Sam’s voice rang out across the empty garage. I followed Steve deeper inside, slowing when I saw Bucky hunched and restrained in the middle of the room.

“... Steve,” Bucky greeted.

“Which Bucky am I talking to?”

Bucky took a moment to reflect on that, but there was no bitterness there, no rage. Just calm resignation.

“... Your mom’s name was Sarah... You used to wear newspapers in your shoes... And you...” His lips had turned up into a smile as he looked from Steve to me; I was taken aback, almost. I needed a moment to reconcile this smile and ease with the man that had come after me with such ruthlessness. “You worked at Harper, Cheswick, and Lowe... Steve sketched you the first time you came over for dinner. I made ma’s sauce.” I nodded, swallowing thickly. “That’s right, Buck,” I murmured. “Can’t read that in a museum,” Steve smiled.

“Just like that we’re supposed to be cool?” Sam asked, eyes darting between us. “What did I do?” Bucky asked, fear edging into his voice. “Enough,” Steve passed it off. If we went into it all now, Bucky would do nothing but beat himself up about it. “Oh, God, I knew this would happen. Everything HYDRA put inside me is still there. All he had to do was say the goddamn words,” Bucky mumbled. “Who was he?” I asked. “I don’t know,” Bucky said honestly. “People are dead,” Steve stressed. “Steve--” I hissed as Bucky’s head fell forward in shame; Steve pressed on: “The bombing, the setup. The doctor did all that just to get 10 minutes with you. I need you to do better than ‘I don’t know’.” Bucky was quiet for a few moments before he lifted his head again, brow furrowed. “...He -- He wanted to know about Siberia... Where I was kept... He wanted to know exactly where.” “Why would he need to know that?” I asked. The look Bucky fixed us with was almost cruel in its regret. “Because I’m not the only Winter Soldier.” It took us all a moment to let that soak in. “Look, we know it’s him, can we just,” I waved in the direction of the vice, “Can we get him out of that thing, please?” Sam shot Steve a look before they both stepped forward. The mechanism was unlocked with a few hydraulic whirs that brought the ringing in my ears back. I winced a little, turning my head away. I almost wanted to hear the helicopters again. Once Bucky was out of the vice, Steve and Sam both stepped back, giving him some space. “I looked through those files,” I started, drawing us back to the matter at hand, “there was nothing about multiple Winter Soldiers anywhere.” “There wouldn’t be,” Bucky shook his head. “Who were they?” Steve asked. "Their most elite death squad. More kills than anyone in HYDRA history. And that was before the serum.” “They all turn out like you?” Sam asked, not even bothering to hide the slight sarcasm that seeped into his voice. "Worse,” Was Bucky’s flat answer. "The doctor, could he control them?” Steve frowned. “Enough,” Bucky conceded. "Said he wanted to see an empire fall,” Steve added.

“With these guys he could do it. They speak 30 languages, can hide in plain sight, infiltrate, assassinate, destabilize, They can take a whole country down in one night. You'd never see them coming,” Bucky admitted.

Sam gripped my arm, steering me closer to Steve and turning me away from Bucky. “This would have been a lot easier a week ago,” He murmured. “If we call Tony...,” Steve offered, but Sam waved it off. “No, he won’t believe us.” “Even if he did,” I offered. Sam nodded. “Who knows if the Accords would let him help.” “We’re on our own,” Steve surmised. Sam considered this for a few seconds. “Maybe not. I know a guy.” -- As Sam left to make his call, I edged closer to Bucky. I sat on the floor in front of him, smiling a bit as he met my eyes. “How are you here?” He asked softly. “The answer to that question has a lot of moving parts,” I laughed a little, ignoring the amplified throbbing in my head as I did, “Ones that we don’t have time to go into right now.” Bucky hesitated before he reached out with his human hand, running his finger along my cheek. I leaned into the light touch, then turned my head, brushing my lips over the pad of his fingertip. Bucky smiled a little bit, and I felt my own smile widened. Even after all this time, that look had butterflies swirling around in my stomach. My eyes drifted down his face, over his neck where I spied a chain peaking from the under his shirt. I reached up, keeping my eyes on his the entire time. When he didn’t stop me, I slipped a finger under the chain, lifting it from under his shirt and smoothing over the engraving. “What’s that?” Steve asked, drifting closer. “It’s your ma’s locket,” I said, keeping my eyes on Bucky, “I gave it to ‘im when he brought you to the riverbank.” Bucky looked from me to Steve, eyes soft and imploring. “Steve...What happened back there--” “That wasn’t you,” Steve shook his head. Bucky looked set to argue, but he pressed his lips together instead, lowering his eyes to his lap instead. I let go of the locket, resting my hand on his knee. “We’re going to get out of this,” I promised, “And when we do, we’re going to find a way to undo what HYDRA programmed.” “What if it can’t be undone?” Bucky’s voice was small, tired. I took his metal hand into mine, intertwining our fingers. “We’ll find a way, Buck. We always do.” Tag list: @gloryevans @redryderdesigns @winter-scolder @aactuaaltraash @secretagentben @staplerrrr @elliee1497 @adayinmymeadow @allonszassbutt @mannls @witch-of-letters @niallssweetheart22 @uneniffler @rinthehufflepuff @panic-angel3314 @firstangeldragonranch @kaetastic @mcuwillbethedeathofme @skeletoresinthebasement @i-dont-know-what-im-doing-yay @kkaos15 @iamnotoverlyfondofwhatfollows @bassclarinety @tomshelbystits @rvgrsbrns @marvelmenarebeautiful @tenaciousperfectionunknown @intricate-melody @stuffandstuff-stuff @fanfuckingtastic04 @messybunnyartist @anescapefromtheworld @shesa-riott @bihoeofmanyfandoms

#stucky #stucky x reader #stucky x you #Steve Rogers #steve x bucky #steve rogers x bucky barnes #bucky barnes x steve rogers #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader x steve rogers #Bucky Barnes x You #Bucky Barnes Imagine #steve rogers x reader #Steve Rogers Imagine #Love Isn't Always on Time

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arsonist-chicken · 3 years

Text

Lockdown Tag game; I got tagged by @we-are-not-amoosed thank you! I keep forgetting you know I exist, also I hope you had fun being drunk at midnight on a Tuesday hjhjhj.

First of all, a big FUCK YOU to tumblr, because I was at the LAST QUESTION and opened ONE NEW TAB to look up the word windmill, and when I went back to tumblr, my post was GONE, so here we go again. If an answer seems short of half-answered, it’s because I didn’t feel like typing everything again.

Are you staying home from work or school?

HA. Yes. Love that for me. Not at all. My university opened for 1 1/2 weeks in March 2020, then for another 4 weeks in November, and it has been closed ever since. I’m in my dormitory in the town I study in, not home home at my parents’ place though, because that would Not end well. The internet connection sucks though, that’s really annoying with distance learning. When I go into The City for A Thing, I usually cycle past my department and it makes we Yearn to go back in there, which is a thing I didn’t think would ever happen, but one pandemic later and suddenly everyone would kill for the change to go back to work/school in person, wouldn’t we?

If you’re staying home who is there with you?

I live in a dormitory, so technically, there’s a lot of other people there, but I don’t really talk to any of them except for when we meet in the hallways or the kitchen or wherever, so really it’s just me, the stuffed animal my friend got me last year because I kept whining that I didn’t have a cat like her at her boyfriend’s place where she basically lives now, and the birds who come to eat from the bird house I put on my balcony.

If it makes you feel any better @we-are-not-amoosed, not that I think it will but hey, who knows, my twin sister is moving out in December, so I will be the only child at home with my parents during summer/Christmas/Easter break, which will be Not Fun. I’ll take another 1 ½ years for my degree, and another 2 if I do a master’s, so that’s about... 1-3/4 years I’ll be alone with my parents while my perfect sister gets to move out and move on and live Adult Life fully respected as an Adult working with renewable energy, as opposed to the Disappointment who takes 5 years for a 3 year degree in a field that’s hard to find employment in and never Does Stuff like my mother wants me to Do Stuff.

Are you a homebody?

I’m with @we-are-not-amoosed there, I didn’t know what that meant, but Pons says “Stubenhocker”. A bit I guess? I’m definitely fine being home by myself if I’m unbothered there (read: not at my parents’ when they are home) and I do need time by myself to recharge. But probably like everyone else, I crave and enjoy social contact a ton more than Before. I meet a friend fairly often (aka the only friend still here instead of home for distance learning), and today we worked together (handing out flyers which idk why the company pays us to hand them out, like 95% of them get thrown away immediately, but hey, we’re getting paid 🤷) and then went to sit by the river, and there were SO MANY people there, it was not *entirely* corona-compliant (but outside with town-typical wind, so it’s fine I think, with my non-existent knowledge about spreading of viruses and such), but honestly? I just couldn’t be bothered to care in that moment: it was warm and sunny, I was there with a very close friend, people were laughing and dancing to good music, it was just so GOOD to be there, almost as if Corona didn’t exist. The police even drove by like they always do to check for people smoking weed and didn’t say anything like usual, so hey. It was just so good, okay? So, homebody? Within reason, I guess, but less than Before, probably.

An event you were looking forward to that eventually got cancelled?

Oh boy, SO MANY. The one I’m most bitter about was a very prestigious international interpreting event, that would have involved me interpreting in the actual European Parliament building in Strasbourg. But there was also a festival week with my best friend I was looking forward to, maybe even a second festival with another friend, my company’s ten year anniversary party, etc. And Prides! I came out to my family in 2019, and was like “Yay, I can finally go to Prides now!” but well 🤷

DUDE SO MANY ARE YOU KIDDING ME

CONCERTS: 5SOS (I SHOULD HAVE heard “Old Me” in a crowd full of other people getting nostalgic for their past selves, but NO), Louis Tomlinson, Harry Styles, Rock im Park aka GREEN DAY AND RISE AGAINST (I have been trying to see Rise Against for YEARS and ALWAYS something gets in the way!), one or two small local artists.

ERASMUS: I should have gone to Russia for a semester to improve my not-too-great speaking skills but Corona said FUCK YOU you will study ALONE and LONELY in your ROOM like a child on TIMEOUT

PRIDE: none in particular, just generally it would have been nice to go, maybe even with a friend to the one in Vienna

Also just general stuff like birthdays and get-togethers with friends, and my club’s annual get-together was cancelled too, and it would have been my friend, sister and my’s 10-year-anniversary, so that sucked to get cancelled.

What movies have you watched recently?

Movies? Pfuh, I don’t know, I’m not really into movies anymore, tbh. TV-series and games are more my jam.

Descendants 1 +2, I finally watched those after I read so much fanfiction that I knew the plot without having watched a single scene that isn’t a music video that youtube kept showing me. They’re nice enough, if you overlook the fact that they make a 16-year-old king while there’s still perfectly capable adults but whatever, there’s a lot of cute moments (Carlos and Jane omg) and a lot of funny ones (UMA. Is HILARIOUS), the music kind of slaps ngl, and arguably Mal + Evie are queer and in love. I still want to watch the third soon, and rewatch The Hunger Games since it showed up on my dash recently.

What shows are you watching?

Rewatching Julie and the Phantoms forever until the end of time (or until season 2 comes out @netflix, and I started Brooklyn 99 again for background noise/low-energy background watching. A friend recommended Ginny & Georgia and it’s okay enough, but it’s written in a way that makes you want to keep watching because there’s just such whack stuff happening that you want it explained; it’s 1h episodes though, that’s a bit hard on my attention span. I want to rewatch FMA:B some time, too.

What are you reading?

@we-are-not-amoosed said “tumblr posts and the texts I translate at work” and if that isn’t a Mood. I’d love to read more, but my attention span is shit and my reading comprehension even worse. I *am* reading “Explain to me like I’m 5” atm which explains stuff easily, like, well, you’re 5 years old, so you’d think a 23-year-old could understand, no? No. I read it, I vaguely understand some stuff, I close the book, and it’s G-O-N-E, not a single thing left. Literally the only thing I remember – and this is why I had to re-write ^^^all that because I needed to look up the English word for Windräder, if that’s even what they’re called in German but whatever I’m tired – is that insects and birds die a LOT in windmills when they get too close and get sucked in and can’t escape anymore, which is one of the reasons windmills aren’t as environmentally friendly as we thought when we built them. Anyhow, I’d love to read more, but idk, there are a lot of posts on here, some I’ve reblogged, that are like.. something something reading fanfiction is easier because you already know the characters and universe something something less mental energy something something idk. Yeah I mostly read fanfiction these days. I hope I’ll get back to reading books sometime soon-ish, I have a long list.

What are you doing for self-care?

Hm. I meet my friend I mentioned above pretty regularly, and I have a notebook that I write stuff in that was nice or made me happy when that happened (like today: working with my friend and then sitting among people by the river in the sun with said friend). I’m getting a tattoo next week (3 cat paws + 1 dog paw = technically my two cats and my late cat and dog, but well, two of them are dead, so I asked two friends for a paw print of their cat and dog, so I’ll always have those two with me, too). I try to make a to-do-list each day, but I rarely stick to it. I apply eyeshadow and body glitter if I want to, I dye my hair bright colors (think pink, purple, blue, red, maybe orange next). I always have chocolate in my room meaning I stopped depriving myself of food I like/food in general because it’s “healthier”/”I need to lose weight” etc. all that you know all those great reasons. I went to a doctor about my knee and it ended up being useless but I went, so.

I also went to see a therapist but she is very useless, like “ended our first session telling me well she doesn’t know how to help me/if she can help me at all/if therapy would even help me” kind of useless; I’ll go again next week and see if that changes or if next week will be the last week and I’ll go back to Dealing Like Before, which is not great but whatever. I’ve lived until 23 without therapy, surely I can keep doing it. Therapy’s expensive if it’s not covered (which this doctor IS which is why I went to her but it’s still a waste of time) and if it’s not gonna work/not gonna help me apparently or if there’s nothing actually wrong OR that therapist is just like, bad at her job, what’s the point of going yk?

Uggggh, I hope the swimming pools and Zumba class will be open again soon, Zumba (also with said friend) is AMAZING, easy fun exercise you don’t need any knowledge or skill for and you can hang out with your friend by the street after for an hour and say goodbye five times and then remember one more thing you wanted to actually still mention and stand there for another 20 minutes hjhjhj. Best times, truly.

Idk this is probably not self-care but I got a small job working with Austrian German and it gnetflix the chance to save up a bit and add it to my resume and also hopefully get my mother to shut up about my non-existent job prospects for a bit, so that’s kind of helping in making me feel a bit more like I’m Being An Adult (also because it means I have to learn how to change my insurance and finance department stuff now, yey).

Tagging: @languages-and-else @psychicbouquetblaze-stuff @the-real-daddy-van-der-bellen @sunsetcurveofficial if you feel like doing it, also sorry @we-are-not-amoosed it became such a rambled long answe on almost everything hjhjhj

#tag games #me talks #covid-19 #swearing #It’s a post about corona there Must be swearing

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dontasktheradiodemon · 3 years

Text

I Love You (3/14/2021)

Buddy I don’t even need to summarize this thread, I can just tag it with tropes like it’s a fic, here watch me go: #angst #hurt/comfort #anguished declarations of love #tw depression #tw suicidal ideation

Immediate sequel to this thread but reading it is optional. Basically, it’s nearly impossible to spend very long in Hell without developing a guilt complex and fantasizing about whether it’d be better to stop being; Alastor and Telly @usedhearts open up to each other about theirs.

Frankly it’s a startling display of mutual emotional vulnerability and I’m proud of them both.

Sir Pentious

whenever he came back from that, what did he do

cause it said he went right to telly so 👀

Alastor

Initially? Probably just tracked him down in whatever he was currently doing and went “can I hold you”

Sorta, holding it together by a thread barely

Sir Pentious

telly probably noticed but just 'yes' and let him Hold Him no matter how grimy he was at the time

Alastor

And he’ll be content with that for about three minutes before that one thread starts fraying and he goes “... can you hold me”

Sir Pentious

thats all it takes for him to coil around alastor and hold him Tight

Alastor

Curls up tight in him and sobs on his shoulder.

Sir Pentious

telly just holds him TIGHTER

makes little comforting/soothing sounds

he doesnt know why he's upset but he will be there for him

Alastor

They’re just both gonna be grimy and that’s Fine.

Sir Pentious

so very grimy

they can take baths later

Alastor

When he’s finally capable of attempting coherent speech again the first thing he’s gonna get out is “I never, ever, ever want to leave you.”

Sir Pentious

telly just takes his face in one hand and cradles it so gently and just 'ok, alright, you don't have to.'

give him a kiss

forehead kiss bc he's probably snotty

Alastor

He’s definitely snotty. He’s full on ugly sobbing.

Sir Pentious

oh hes probably not smiling huh

i think thats probably the first time telly sees that

Alastor

NOPE, he lost that sometime while he was hiding in Telly’s shoulder.

First time Telly’s seen him with the mask off

Sir Pentious

god thats got him WORRIED and he just HUGS HIM AGAIN NICE AND TIGHT AND COILED

telly: ive got you. ive got you, im here, it's alright...

Alastor

He’s just gonna keep clinging as hard as he can, he got out One sentence and now he’s sobbing too hard to talk again.

It’s a lot of radio static and feedback noise

Sir Pentious

telly is just going to KEEP HOLDING HIM god himself couldnt pry this snake off this deer and would get bitten and injected with venom for trying

Alastor

He’ll gradually stop sobbing and the shaking will decrease to shivering

Sir Pentious

telly's just going to hold him through it all, pet his hair, massage at the base of his ears, everything he can do to soothe him

Alastor

Mumbles his gratitude and an apology for interrupting telly’s work

Sir Pentious

telly: no no don't apologize. i love you and i want to be here for you. my work will still be there. id much rather know that you're alright and have it be interrupted than you be upset or hurting and you not come to me for fear of interrupting me.

Alastor

Mumble mumble he could have handled it himself

Sir Pentious

telly: i don't _want_ you to have to handle it yourself. i'm here for you, alastor. i want you to know that you can come to me whenever you need me and i'll be here.

Alastor

Tries to say three different things but chokes on them all and just wheezes out another thanks.

Sir Pentious

he just gets a squeeze and a kiss to the nearest him surface

Alastor

He keeps holding on until he can get a small, tired smile fixed back on his face, and then he pulls back to say “Thanks” again.

Sir Pentious

he gets another forehead kiss and then telly gonna lead him to the bathroom and they are taking a BATH they are now both covered in grim AND snot

Alastor

You know, that’s fair. Bath time. Strips down to boxers, climbs in with Telly, and Clings again. ... and sorry about Telly’s clothes, he’ll clean them before the snot fossilizes

Sir Pentious

Those were his dirty work clothes, it's fine, the Eggs will wash them. But it is BATHTIME, and they are both getting a scrubbing. Moreso Telly than Alastor tho.

Alastor

... can Alastor get a scrubbing too

Sir Pentious

Absolutely!

A softer scrubbing than Telly gets

Alastor

He’s going all jelly-eyed again. It’s ok he’s fine.

Sir Pentious

He gets a nice wash cloth and a nice gently scented soap, and a boyfriend to hum to him as he kinda reverently cleans him.

Alastor

He gets self-conscious SO fast, he’s gonna hold his breath and slide under the water. It’s fine he’s fine

Sir Pentious

Telly just smiles and giggles bc that's cute, you're cute Alastor. Probably wraps his tail tip around Alastor's ankle to gently and playfully tug him thru the water.

Alastor

!!! Grabs Telly’s wrists to pull him down into the water.

Sir Pentious

Now they're both underwater!! Gonna tussle with a sea serpent in his natural element, huh, Alastor!! Play time, silly mode ACTIVATED

Alastor

GOOD he’s ready to wrestle. He’s trying not to laugh, he doesn’t want to inhale water.

Sir Pentious

Time to PLAY and WRASSLE!!

Tumbling and splashing and a big grinning snake!!

Alastor

Alastor’s got a surefire way to win this wrestling match! He’s gonna GRAPPLE THE SNAKE COMPLETELY. ... basically he’s just hugging him. Hi.

Sir Pentious

Grapple the snake and the snake grapples back. Now you're wrapped in a tail Alastor, and getting a mermaid kiss.

Alastor

Oh no, what shall he do. This definitely wasn’t his plan. Totally wasn’t. Not at all. Nope.

Sir Pentious

Kiss kiss fall in love, and he's rising up out of the water, because he wants that mouth OPEN for TONGUE.

Alastor

When they get out of the water, Alastor breaks the kiss—sorry, not going for tongue this time

Sir Pentious

Telly blinks and just brief pouting, but holds him close all the same. Kisses cheek instead.

Alastor

“Sorry. Just... tired.” Considering he sobbed about half the liquid out of his body earlier,

Sir Pentious

Wipes the wet hair off his forehead and then kisses it. "That's fine. Come on then, lets get out and dry off. Would you like a snack before bed?"

Alastor

“I need a drink. Not a drink-drink, just a drink. Fluids.”

Sir Pentious

"Of course. I'll get you some water, once we dry off."

Alastor

A nod. He’s still in a quiet mood.

Sir Pentious

Telly gonna carry him out of the bath and set him on a rug. Get towel and start drying him

Alastor gets dried first because Telly Must Care For Him.

Alastor

He puts up a token struggle against this but okay as long as he goes next.

Sir Pentious

He will. Alastor gets handed a Towel and offered his pick of head or tail.

Alastor

Head this time.

Sir Pentious

He Offers Himself on Alastor's drying alter.

Alastor

Alastor Shall Dry This Offering. And while he does he says hesitatingly, “You don’t have to ask if you don’t want to. But you can if you want.” Because it’s been weighing heavily on him as Really Fucking Weird that he just unloaded a hurricane on Telly’s nice jacket and at no point did Telly ask what that was all about

Sir Pentious

He considers it and shrugs a little. "That depends: Do you want to tell me, or would you rather not tonight?"

Alastor

He has to think about it a moment. “I think you should know.”

Sir Pentious

"Alright. Then tell me."

Alastor

Thinks about it; but then just keeps drying.

Sir Pentious

Telly just looks up at him and blinks. "Well?"

Alastor

Stops drying again. “You’re sure?” Listen, this is hard to share,

Sir Pentious

"Yes. If it had you that upset and you say that I _should_ know, then I would like to know."

Alastor

He shouldn’t have said that. He wraps the towel around Telly, hugs him, and sighs. Okay.

Sir Pentious

He's just going to lay there on the rug with Alastor, and the towel wrapped around him. And state with his big ole eyes.

Alastor

No... Not the big ole eyes... That makes this harder. He’s gotta look away. “I... don’t want to be... here.” YEAH ALASTOR GREAT START, SUPER CLEAR, RADIO HOST OF THE YEAR

Sir Pentious

A very confused furrowed brow. "Meaning what?"

Alastor

“In Hell. In—existence.” He swallows hard. “Hell wears you down. It—rubs your soul raw. It sandpapers you off a bit at a time. And I’m—I’m tired.”

Sir Pentious

A soft, concerned look and a hand cupping his face. "Oh, love...I can understand that feeling. I'm...I'm tired too. It is very tiring. Before I met Hel, I'd been close to giving up entirely. And then before I met you, I'd been ready to check myself into that hotel, just to see if it was possible. Something to change the tedium...."

Alastor

“I spend so much of my time going on walks. I don’t have anything else to do but go on walks.” He covers Telly’s hand with his own so he can press into it and shuts his eyes. “Almost every year, I wonder whether this is going to be the year that I decide to go for a walk when the angels come.”

Sir Pentious

And his heart clenches so tightly in his chest. "Don't." The word is soft and unbidden, desperate.

"There have been many a year where I've felt the same...where I thought it would be better to just end it. But I didn't. Mostly out of spite, but that can only get you so far. I like having love to live for better. Or exist for. Neither of us are living." A dry, bitter, short chuckle.

Alastor

His heart skips a beat at the word, so pronounced he flinches at the odd th-thump. Still not used to those. “I won’t. *I never want to leave you.*” He pulls Telly close. “And you’ll stay here?”

Sir Pentious

"I will." It's a promise, a swear, and he can't help but sit up to kiss him, at least once. "Don't leave me and I'll stay here, too."

Alastor

Alastor returns the kiss; it’s not a formal pact with magic and all, but it feels like one. “Then we’ll both stay.” He presses his forehead to Telly’s, eyes still shut. “It’s... heavy, though.”

Sir Pentious

"I know. Damn it, do I _know_. Humans like us, we weren't meant to be eternal. It _fucks_ with us, especially knowing that we've already died. But you have me now. And I have you. And if we share our loads, it won't seem as heavy." He may be crying, just a bit, and luckily only from the face eyes.

Alastor

“Knowing we’ve died—and knowing we aren’t *worth* eternity. I know I’m not. I know Hell is a punishment, but—sometimes it feels so *generous.*”

But he nods, slightly, with their heads still together. “But—I have you and you have me. And good God, am I glad I do.”

Sir Pentious

"I understand. I know exactly what you mean." Sighs and wraps his arms around him.

"I'm glad to have you too. I...I love you." A small kiss.

Alastor

"I love you, too." And it hurts like hellfire to say. It's the thing keeping him chained here, and it's also such a part of the reason why Hell hurts at all.

He presses his face to Telly's shoulder; this time, at least, his crying is quiet.

Sir Pentious

His breath catches and the tears come again, more freely. He can feel the eyes on his tail beginning to leak as well, can't control it in the moment. Telly's arms wrap more tightly around Alastor, and one of his hands moves up to stroke and card through his hair. He squeezes his eyes (on his face) shut again, he shakes with quiet sobs, holding Alastor to him as if everything depended on keeping him close.

Alastor

He holds Telly just as tightly, an arm around his back and an arm around his shoulders. Guilt twists in him at being the one to make Telly cry; but Alastor’s not crying hard, this time around he can support Telly through his sobbing.

Sir Pentious

They're not hard sobs, instead soft little things, hiccups more like, and along with them comes a soft chorus of "Love you, love you, love you." The amount of emotions that are roiling around inside of him, who knows if the crying is sadness, happiness, or something else. But there is an overabundance and he is letting it out.

Alastor

And Alastor will keep supporting him until it’s all out, the same way Telly did earlier. He briefly lowers one hand to Telly’s tail and gently tugs, encouraging him to coil around Alastor if he wants. He can deal with a dozen eyes crying on him.

Sir Pentious

The tail barely needs any encouragement, it is up and coiling in an instant, squeezing Alastor's lower half. Not hard enough to hurt, but definitely very tight. Telly doesn't take too long to calm, the tears stopping and his breathing evening out. Then he's just breathing deeply against Alastor, still holding him tight, but with less desperation.

Alastor

Alastor rubs Telly’s back as the tears slowly stop coming. Once Telly’s breathing has steadied, Alastor murmurs, “How do you feel?”

Sir Pentious

"I'm not sure. I'm happy, but tired, and sad that you felt so tired, too."

Alastor

“I don’t want you to be sad on my behalf.” He sighs quietly. “But if there’s happiness in there too...”

Sir Pentious

"I can't help it, I love you, and knowing that you hurt, it hurts me too. But that's not to say 'don't tell me when you're hurting' because I _want_ to know. So that I can help if I can. Or just hold you, if that's what you need. But I'm happy because you love me, and you're here with me, and we can help each other. And that is what's most important, more than anything." A soft sigh in return, and a gentle kiss to his shoulder.

Alastor

“That’s the worst part of this whole thing, isn’t it? We’ve got to carry each other’s pain on top of our own—and then we feel guilty for paining each other.” Alastor laughs ruefully. “But I’m here for you. For whatever damage control we can do.” He returns the kiss.

Sir Pentious

"It's quite something: you want your love to not hurt, but then your hurt hurts them, and they don't want you to hurt, but their hurt hurts you, and it's just another fucking ouroboros." He laughs, a bit of a hysterical tinge to it. "But I'll endure it. For you."

Alastor

“I’ve always thought there was something beautiful in the image of devouring oneself alive.” There wasn’t anything beautiful in *this,* but maybe he could find it. “I will, too. As long as I give you more happiness than unhappiness.”

Sir Pentious

Telly pulls back just a tad, enough to see Alastor's face. He cups it and kisses him, pressing their foreheads together again. "You already have."

Alastor

“Make sure I keep it up.” He cupped Telly’s face as well, running his thumbs over his cheeks. “We’ve only just gotten started, and there’s a long eternity ahead of us.”

Sir Pentious

"I will. I hold you to that." A bit of a smirk, and he's uncoiling, and grabbing the towel again. "I'm mostly dry but still a little damp. Let's finish up and get some water, _I'm_ thirsty now too."

Alastor

Huff. “*Right.* Of course.” He retrieves the towel he’d wrapped around Telly’s shoulders and helps, taking special care with the tear streaks around his many eyes. “We can try out another one of your herbal teas, see if this’ll be the one I like. I can whip up something or other to go with it.”

Sir Pentious

Telly smiles and finishes drying, before taking Alastor's hand. He kisses it and then wraps it around his arm to start slithering towards the kitchen. "Anything in particular you want to try tonight? Or should I just try and pick something that I think you'll perhaps like?"

Alastor

“Whatever you want. It still all tastes like fruity tea to me.” He laughs self-consciously. “I’ll get there.”

Sir Pentious

"Maybe something with some citrus? For a zest? I have a few mixes like that." They are now in the kitchen and Telly's going to get the kettle on and then dig around for the teas.

Alastor

“Sure, I could use some zest.” He starts rummaging around to see what he can make that goes with something citrusy. He’s got this place pretty well outfitted by now, if he says so himself.

Sir Pentious

"Alright, I have a green tea with orange, clove, and ginger. It's very tasty, has a good bite." He hummed as he got out the clear pot that he'd used before, and two cups.

Alastor

Green tea, what goes with green tea? He’s got no idea what goes with green tea. He can slap together some tea sandwiches that go with orange, clove, and ginger, though. “How does chicken sound?” And perhaps a more important question: “When did you last eat?”

Sir Pentious

Cue him pausing as his brain starts to work, trying to remember. "Ahhh...this morning? Breakfast, yes, I think that was when." Oh look how concentrated he is on pouring the water into the pot he is now.

Alastor

Maybe something a bit more substantial than a rinkydink tea sandwich, then. “Would you say that tea’s more clove-y or ginger-y?

Sir Pentious

He lifts the dried tea to his mouth to blelele and hums. "More clove-y."

Alastor

“Then let’s make that beef instead of chicken. Compliments it better without having to toss in a dozen other spices—and we don’t want to overpower the tea, do we...” He presumes they don’t want to, anyway. He checks the fridge to see what they’ve got on hand. Watch out, he’s switching into Cooking Mode.

Sir Pentious

Telly loves when he switches into cooking mode. He's just going to move the cups and the pot to the table and then settle in to watch.

Alastor

Okay, keep it simple—he grabbed some roast beef, onions, watercress, mayo, and some odds and ends to mix into the mayo that will *hopefully* compliment the tea, passing each ingredient one by one to his shadow to find a place for on the counter. Alastor swoops by Telly to give him a quick squeezing hug on his way to start prepping sandwiches—maybe a slightly longer hug. Maybe he’ll linger here a moment.

Sir Pentious

Oh! A hug, yes, a hug is good. Get that snake purring like an engine. He's very tempted to coil but he won't, he's getting hungry just watching.

Alastor

Okay, no, no getting emotional. Twice in one day is enough. He’s got fancy mayo to prepare. He lets go and hurries to the counter. “So. What’s... What were you working on earlier?” Don’t mind if his voice is a little rough, it’s fine.

Sir Pentious

"Oh, just more repairs. Installing new parts and making some delicate calibrations that the Eggs can't handle." He's watching Alastor and not even paying attention to the tea, that's gonna seep for a good while.

Alastor

“I ought to take an evening or two to help out with repairs.” He’s talking as much to himself as to Telly. “I keep coming over and *watching,* there’s no reason I can’t pick up a wrench or screwdriver and pitch in.”

Sir Pentious

"I'd love for you to help, I can get instruct you what to do just fine, I know how capable you are." A smile, and then he's re-noticing the tea and pouring a cup. Adds a little honey for sweetness and takes a satisfied sip.

Alastor

He passes over the first sandwich. “If it goes horribly with the tea: I’m sorry, forgive me, I did my best, it’s not my fault.”

Sir Pentious

Telly laughs. "I'm sure it will be fine, Alastor." He takes the sandwich and bites, and then takes a sip of tea, and then makes a very surprised and delighted noise. "Oh, that tastes wonderful."

Alastor

“Good!” He finishes his own, takes a bite—good—and pours some tea for himself to try—well, it still tastes like tea, but like, at least a tea that pairs well with the sandwich. “The good news is I think I’m starting to differentiate the taste of green tea from other teas.”

Sir Pentious

A smile. "Good! I'm glad. Maybe you're acquiring the taste for tea, at least a bit." A wink, and then he's back to eating. He finishes it far, far too fast-- Telly really does just inhale his food when propriety isn't a factor-- and then he's just sipping his tea. His tail slides over to curl around Alastor's calf.

Alastor

Alastor's taken two bites. He pauses before the third. "... Do you want another sandwich?"

Sir Pentious

Oh, shy snake look, and then a little nod. "Yes, please." And his tail retracts to let Alastor move.

Alastor

He waves his shadow over to do it and nudges Telly's tail with his foot. He's staying put.

Sir Pentious

Oh! Good, the tail is curling back around and holding him, and he smiles just so fond and bright. And another sip of tea.

Alastor

Alastor returns the smile—it still looks tired, but it’s just a little warmer when he meets Telly’s gaze. “I’m sorry I threw you off your schedule today.” Such as it was; Alastor was getting the distinct impression that Telly’s schedule was *however much I can get done today in as many hours as I can keep working.* “I’ll help you get back on track. And next time it’s your turn to have an emotional breakdown, all right?”

Sir Pentious

He laughs softly, and reaches over to take Alastor's hand, thumb stroking gently. "Alright, but you have to mop up after." A snicker.

Alastor

Alastor squeezed Telly’s hand. “It’s a deal.”

Sir Pentious

He hums and takes another sip of his tea, not letting go of Alastor's hand. "Is my other sandwich done?"

Alastor

Alastor glances over.

His shadow is just, sorta, standing there, awkwardly, holding a sandwich, watching this tender moment. Heyyy.

Alastor gestures. Go on, put the man’s sandwich down.

Sir Pentious

And he is devouring the sandwich, very happily. A contented snake.

Alastor

Well, for all Alastor’s flaws, at least he can help keep one snake fed—and that’s something, isn’t it? He continues eating his own sandwich. It’s a little awkward with one hand, but right now nothing could make him let go of Telly.

#usedhearts #chat log

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albino-whumpee · 3 years

Text

An old thing 4

First

Continued from here

Possibly the angstiest part of this. Not much whump really.

I´m gonna go ahead and tag @the-host-and-colton for this one. It´s not the BBU but I suppose the Boxies with babies dynamic is there. “Baby doesn´t understand the situation but the parents do” kinda thing. Excuse the ping!

CW// Dehumanization, slavery, human trafficking, forced breeding, mentions of past dub con and non con, blood, implied and mention of past whump of minors, hazing, noncon child separation, creepy and explosive whumpers, physical and emotional abuse.

Everything will be tagged and if there´s tags to be added, tell me please.

After five years, Kit was a rowdy little boy. Running around with a smile on his face at all times. You wouldn’t think he was a slave if it wasnt for the thin black collar on his neck.

In how obedient he turned with his masters. Even though he didn’t understand the concept yet.

“Master? Why are Roahn and Shy here?” Kit asked Danae once. Layo and Danae weren’t mom and dad. They were master. But for his little mind it was just the same thing.

“To serve you and us, Kit. You will understand it better when you grow up”

“Alright” Kit said watching Roahn taking care of the garden with her big bump “Master? Will I be able to play with Roahn’s baby?” Kit asked again.

“No more questions Kit” She said annoyed. The kid was quiet but he still looked at Roahn with curiosity.

“Roahn?” Kit asked the woman being hugged by Dimitri in their floor mat. She woke up as it was the middle of the night, and when she saw him, he shook Dimitri awake. They sat in the other side of the cell.

“Hey there Kit” Dimitri smiled at the toddler.

“Hi Shy” Kit said.

“What is it Kit? Are you hurt?” Roahn said stretching her arm for the kid to hold her hand through the bars. The kid took it.

“I am cold upstairs. So I thought you were very cold here too. Its always chilly down here” the kid grabbed the blanket he had carried all the way down and gave it to Dimitri. “I dont want the baby to be cold”.

They looked at each other with a pained and proud expression.

“Do you…wanna see how she moves?” Roahn asked the toddler who instantly put a smile on his face.

Roahn went close to the cell and told the kid to get closer. Kit did. She grabbed his tiny hand and put it on her abdomen. Curiously she moved. As if the little one inside her knew.

“She’s rowdy!” Kit said. The word coming from how Layo would call him sometimes. Kit was an smart boy.

“Yes she is!” Roahn laughed along.

“I cant wait to play with her!” Dimitri and Roahn went stiff “I mean, if I can…” Kit cleared up sensing their discomfort.

Roahn took his hand into hers and gave it a little kiss.

“Of course you can” she said looking at her son in the same hazel eyes she had. His worries escaped his face to be turned into smiling.

“What would you call her, Kit?” Dimitri asked him.

Kit reflexed for a bit, looking at the ceiling.

“Bunnie!” He said “oh! Or Sara! Or Emi!”

“Where did you take those names from?” Dimitri giggled. They were good names.

“Master is writing a new book. I am a character there too!” He said proudly.

“Oh? You are?” Dimitri said, resting his chin in one hand. Roahn thought it had been a long time since she saw him smile like that. Not since Olivia.

“Yes! I am a dog!” Dimitri stopped right there with a shocked face. He cracked a humorless laugh. He really hated Layo for doing that sick joke.

“Do you like dogs Kit?” He asked anyways.

“Yes!! Sadly master doesn’t like them…” Kit pouted.

“Hey Kit, what if I told you there’s a place where you could have a lot of dogs?” Dimitri asked him Roahn looking at him.

“Eh?! Really? Where’s that?” Kit asked getting closer.

“I can take us there but I need you to tell me something. I only will ask you to see one thing everyday ok?” He said getting closer to him. The camera and the microphone were not a problem. They had been tricked for years.

“Everyday?”

“Yes”

“What?”

“If you ever see big men with black suits tell me what day they come in alright? Or if master says something about an auction tell me. And then we will go to that place, Alright?” Dimitri said. Roahn wasn’t sure if the kid had gotten all, but Kit was smarter than they could see.

He already knew how to read.

“An auction? Like last time?”

Dimitri couldn’t help himself from looking down for a bit.

“Yes, Kit. Like last time. Would you do that for us?” She asked him calmly.

“Ok. I will tell you” Kit said. “Im going to sleep. Goodnight” Kit said going away.

“Wait!” Dimitri yelled, the kid turned back.

“Thanks for the blanket” Roahn said covering her and Shy.

“We love you Kit” Dimitri said. The kid didnt know how to take that and just blushed before running off.

Dimitri and her laid down again. After a moment, the woman’s arms squeezed him lightly.

“Are you sure?” Roahn asked him.

“We cant let this slip off again, Roahn” he said.

“You have changed” she told her “I remember you telling me you didnt have bad thoughts about your owners”

Dimitri embraced her stronger dipping his face into her neck.

“Ivan was all I had. And he was taken from me. He was killed by a bunch of brainless fuckers. I told myself I wouldn’t fixate on his dead. And tried to forget. But when that happened…” Roahn reached for his hand and squeezed “I knew I couldn’t ignore it anymore. I cant let this freaks fuck with us anymore. We have to go before the auction. Much more longer before that”

“Three months” Roahn said “after she’s born, three months and we will go”

“In that time I’ll have it all ready” Dimitri kissed her shoulder “I wont fail this time” he said as she smiled.

His face had a big scar that went all the way from his cheekbone to his neck.

Layo had tried to cut his carotid when they tried to escape the first time. And he almost succeeded.

The baby was born a week later. Kit was amazed by the baby’s arrival. Apparently her name was Jen. Although Kit thought how Bunnie would have had suit her better he went on. For him Dimitri was the only way of knowing how she was doing. Kit was a curious child so he would ask him lots of questions. Dimitri had received some education but many of his questions beat him. At those times he would pat him and tell him the library had a book about that day’s question they could read together.

Sometimes, when they knew there was no one in the house but them, he let Kit sit on his leg.

By now Dimitri and Roahn had to wear clothes at all times except when their genitals were required. They weren’t that used to be so covered but definitely it was warmer. And less humiliating. But the mounting…those were nights were those rules didn’t matter.

“How is Jen and Roahn?” Kit asked him.

“They’re ok. Jen is a very healthy baby. You would love her” Dimitri said.

“I would have loved if she was named Bunnie though…” the kid pouted. Dimitri laughed.

“You know my name isn’t Shy?” He said the kid opening his eyes amused.

“Then what’s your name?”

“Dimitri” He said with a bitter sweet smile. It was the name his brother had gave him. He wanted to tell him to call him dad, but right now that was too risky.

“What a pretty name! Why are you called Shy by Master then?” Kit asked. Dimitri pursed his lips together and touched his scar.

“Its a nickname”

“Nick…?”

“A name only good friends call each other”

“But you don’t like Master at all…”

“Well, some nicknames are for people you don’t like” he giggled wryly.

“Hey, Sh—Dimitri, what does “slave” mean?” The kid asked him, getting his full attention.

“Master called me that the other day when I dropped a bit of juice. I dont know if its a good nickname…” Dimitri held him strong.

“You dont need to know that Kit” he said to him “You’re a good boy ok?”

Kit thought about the many times he had been called bad things and found comforting he said that. So he hugged back.

They stayed there like that for a while.

—

At night, report.

“They havent mentioned it yet then Kit?” Dimitri asked him from the other side of the cell. Kit shook his head, his curly black hair flopping.

“Thats perfect. And what is master doing on thursday?”

“They have their cocktail party and go early” kit said. Dimitri was making mental notes.

“When do they go on their trip?” Dimitri asked him looking up.

“On sunday”

Dimitri has made his plan. Five days were a bit short but the three months had passed and he had it all ready. The few money he could slip from change. A few clothes. Tools. Food. They were ready to go.

“Kit, in Sunday I need you to do something fun. Would you grab your binoculars and tell me when they go and bring me the keys in Master’s office?”

Kit physically did a step back.

“What is it?”

“Im…not allowed there…I cant…”

“It’s ok Kit. Dont worry. Can you play explorer and tell me when they go then?” The kid shook his head vigorously. “You’re such a good kid, Kit” he revolved his hair. And gave him a candy hidden in the downside of the mat.

“Ah! Thank you Dimitri! I love you!” Kit said while hugging him through the bars. Dimitri had to be really strong to hold the tears in.

“I love you too Kit” he said watching him go off.

He stared at the ceiling unable to sleep.

How much he wished Cal and Olivia were there too. But the pain of losing them wouldn’t happen ever again.

Even if he died at it. They would go and get freedom.

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masonscig · 3 years

Text

first line tag game

thank you for the tag @crackerdumortain !!!!! yours were so much fun to read omg !!!!

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favourite opening line. Then tag some of your favourite authors!

[disclaimer: i write for the choices fandom and some for litg so you’ll see a mix of those fandoms on this list LMAO]

1. stay [twc – mason x sofía]

The first time was casual. She had a knack for musing her thoughts aloud, tossing her harmless opinions out for anyone who’d catch them.

She was good at starting conversations in that way – while he’d never been one for talking.

She never did it with heavy topics, though.

2. thieves in the shadows [choices – blades au – mal x zilyana]

bullets pelted the crates they were crouched behind, wood splintering in every direction. bodies were strewn across the warehouse, the unmistakable pools of blood streaking across the stone.

“raine! to your left!” immy yelled her way, barely sparing her a glance before unloading her clip, shell casings clinking against the ground.

the gun trembled in yana’s hands. she’d shot one before – practice at the gun range, glass bottles in a back alley – but never a live target.

3. if we meet again [choices – open heart au – bryce x spencer] 18+

year one

The ride from the airport to her parents’ home was long and grueling, the slushy ice pelting the windshield barely passing for snow.

It was practically sub-zero outside, a stark difference between the mid seventies weather she’d just left.

4. clandestine [twc – mason x sofía] 18+

“hey. hey wake up –”

she stirred at the greeting, but jumped when he kicked the desk. her face contorted into a grimace, the imprint of her tweed jacket on her cheek outlined in pink. “hmm?”

“you fell asleep again,” he said, plopping a bag in front of her.

5. undying [choices – blades – mal x zilyana]

Zilyana stirred, resituating herself against Mal’s bare chest, feeling his arm instinctively tighten around her shoulders. When she realized she was missing the sound of his deep breathing, accompanied with an occasional soft snore, she cracked an eye open to see his chin tipped upwards, his gaze trained on the ceiling.

6. talent show [choices – platinum – shane x dom]

There wasn’t a day that went by where she didn’t cross his mind. Even since they were kids.

He admired so much about her – her fiery spirit, her drive, her unwavering tenacity.

And he’d been in love with Dom for as long as he could remember.

7. redeemed [choices – platinum – raleigh x dom]

As soon as he stepped off stage, he was shuffled to his tour bus, Fiona on his heels. She looked like the human embodiment of rage in a grey blazer, a look in her eye that made him thankful he wasn’t the one it was directed at – or at least he hoped he wasn’t the reason she was two seconds away from a murderous rampage.

8. hidden [choices – foreign affairs – blaine x carina] 18+

Her cheek slipped out of the palm of her hand, forehead smacking the desk, nearly jumping out of her skin at the abrupt awakening.

“Ow.”

She prodded the tender spot on her face, thankful her foundation was thick.

A soft snore caught her attention – next to her, Blaine was passed out. Leaning back in his chair, his head was thrown back, arms crossed against his chest, the textbook on its face in his lap.

9. is this fate? [litg au – bobby x mc] 18+

The peroxide was cold when it hit her skin, the liquid bubbling on her knee, relentlessly stinging. She sucked in a breath through gritted teeth.

“Sorry… should be over soon,” he murmured, wiping up the stray liquid that streamed down her leg with a small rag.

The heaviness of the atmosphere between them was almost too much to bear – they’d barely spoken since he helped her onto the counter in his small office, leg propped up between his own, where he sat in his desk chair.

10. asvista cove [litg college au – bobby x elena]

Bobby’s thumb flicked the lighter repeatedly until he got a consistent flame, moving slowly from left to right over the edge of the blunt. His cheeks hollowed out as he sucked in, the tip of it an auburn ember. He pulled it out of his mouth and sucked in an even deeper breath, holding it.

When he blew out the thick cloud of smoke, he passed it to her, coughing under his breath. “Whew. Your turn.”

She followed suit, the thick smoke coating the inside of her lungs, bitter and heavy. She exhaled, the shroud smoke enveloping her view of the sealine.

11. reticent [twc – mason x sofía] 18+

She was bare.

Bare in the way that one is when they’ve been stripped down and torn apart with a trained gaze just calculating enough for them to feel seen – parts of her she didn’t know she’d hidden splayed out like withered pages of a book, dog-eared and marked up like a frequently reread novel.

One he’d reread because it was familiar, because it had fallen into his lap (he hadn’t searched for it), not so much because it was his favorite.

12. more [twc – mason x sofía] 18+

He laced his fingers through her thick hair, reveling in the way his skin looked contrasted against the midnight of her hair.

[the way i can’t post more than this bc it’s....... very nsfw right out the bat LMFAO]

13. calm before the storm [choices – open heart – bryce x spencer]

Since the moment his hands trembled amidst one of the most important surgeries of his life, Bryce was holding on by a thread.

With each half-assed joke he cracked, each wavering smile, each time he tried convincing others – including himself – that he was coping, he fell apart more and more.

The first night he went home after Spencer was quarantined, he trudged through the halls of Edenbrook, like he was dragging his legs through wet concrete. He was nearly magnetized to her bedside, not wanting to leave, but he needed to rest – he’d been awake for nearly a day and a half by the time he clocked out.

14. envy | part two of the attached series [twc – mason x sofía x felix]

He strode down the hallway, hands in his pockets to give the illusion that he didn’t give a shit, when he was most definitely on edge. His fingers flicked his lighter open and closed against the twill lining of his pockets, trying to focus on the soft clicking noise it made instead of the swarm of thoughts clouding his conscience.

He still couldn’t figure out why he cared so much.

15. comfort | part one of the attached series [twc – mason x sofía x felix]

He noticed it before she did.

Her pulse didn’t jump the same way it did the first dozen times he walked into the room. The blood didn’t rush to her cheeks, or creep up her neck, the crimson flush absent even when he tried his hardest to fluster her. And it normally took next to nothing to get her to turn into a bumbling mess.

16. out of time [choices – open heart – sienna x danny]

She sprinted down the hallway, pager still beeping erratically on her hip, the weight of the numbers enough to make her feel like she was slugging through wet concrete.

No, no, not him, please, not him, she chanted to herself, vision blurring with tears before she had the chance to let the negative possibilities set in.

17. unrequited part three [choices – open heart – bryce x spencer]

She slumped into the seat in the deserted waiting room, her joints popping as she stretched, her deep sigh echoing off of the tile. She was exhausted.

She could usually push through the worst of her shifts, but fatigue settled into her bones, a lethargy she’d never experienced entrapping her like a net, and she couldn’t fight her way out of it this time.

18. signs [choices – ride or die – logan x raquel]

“A final in sign language? Couldn’t you just have a conversation with the teacher or some shit?” Logan sat across from her on the couch, watching as her fingers bent and flexed, transfixed.

She stopped abruptly, screwing her mouth to the side in concentration. She repeated the same few moves, getting more and more frustrated with each sequence.

19. mementos [choices – ride or die – logan x raquel]

The sound of his boots slapping against the damp pavement reverberated off of the brick of the alleyways, his gasping breaths adding to the symphony that was his escape.

20. warmth [twc – mason x sofía]

“You’re going the wrong way,” Mason grunted, looking particularly stiff in her passenger seat.

“I thought we could take the scenic route,” she shrugged, flicking her high beams on as she turned off of the main road leading downtown, easing on the brakes when the tires hit the gravel.

okay so....... i didn’t really realize just HOW MUCH i’ve written since the summer? i’ve fallen into a pattern where i think i’m a failure bc of how slow i am to write because i have so many series i’ve started and dropped off and wips i’ve abandoned but.... i’ve managed to write for most appreciation weeks i’ve both hosted/participated in and i’ve written for THREE fandoms.... i don’t normally gas myself up but? i’m really? proud of myself? KSJDJKSD if you read this far thank you and you’re prob watching me have a breakdown over how much i’ve managed to write oh my GOD ok i need to lie down KLSDFKASFJD i didn’t even think i could hit 20 but i did???? alright i’m officially gonna treat myself at some point bc i did all this in less than a year.... these are from the end of july 2020 to now..... wow ok im done i promise SKDFJKSDF

tagging: @raleighcarrera and @pixeljazzy !!! <3

#tag games #my fic #long post

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xsixxx · 4 years

Text

Bad Influence - Chapter 11

Word Count - 5.4K

Authors Note - It's been a while! 👋🏻 About 4 months I think 😬 If there are any Bad Influence fans actually left out there, I'm so sorry & I love you. I had a really fuckin shitty last few months of 2019 & because of that, I kinda stopped doing the stuff I enjoy, writing this fanfic & using this blog being one of them.

Then I tried to come back before I was ready 😂 I wrote this chapter out about 2 months ago, but never bothered to post it bcos I didn't care enough about it. But I've recently returned to it, rewrote it & remembered why I fuckin love writing this fanfic. So I'm super excited to post this chapter & I hope you don't all hate it after how long it's been 😂 It's a bit rough bcos I'm getting back into it & I'm kinda rusty!

I love you guys for baring with me, I can't wait to get back into writing this fic for you 🖤

Warnings - Um, the f word is used in like every sentence oops, some implied smut when Nikki is remembering (choking trigger warning), I guess 'violence' but not really violence???, a whole lot of angst & a teeny bit of fluff at the end

Tags - @cruecifymesixx @freddiessmallnipples @queen-crue @scarecrowmax @lovesick-heart0 @littlesunnymoon @80sheart-strings @cranberrirolls @inthebackofmycarlaytheirbodies @versnatasha @zoenicolesetser @crazysaladchopshop @ggorehorror @lunamadhatter99 @justtryingtoovercome @chaoticvybe @you-know-im-a-dreamer @eightiesrockbaby @valentines-in-london @xrosegoldwolfx @fupatroopaa @lilypetite88 @this-blog-must-be-the-place @ashleecrue @lauravic @dark-princess99 @unknownoblivion @mgkobsessed @antheasnow @rockaholi @nassauartist @sparxx27

(there's one bit where Nikki is glaring across the bar at a character & this gif is spot on)

*Nikkis POV*

I drummed my fingers to the sound of a guitar as I watched Mick do his thing through the glass of the recording booth, his fingers working magic as he played the riff to Looks That Kill.

Fuck, that weird little guy could play.

“Nikki, this song is gonna fucking kill!” Tommy yelled enthusiastically, beating his drumsticks on the arm of the battered couch his was lounging on.

I smiled weakly back at him, my nerves keeping me from matching his excitement. “I hope so,” I mumbled. I look around the studio, basking in the enormity of where we were right now. Mötley was recording their second album & my nerves were shot. It had to be perfect. It had to do well.

“Stop stressing man, everyone’s gonna fucking freak over this album, I just know it!” He replied, smiling encouragingly, his usual Tommy level of positivity feeling sickeningly sweet, but still, I nodded at him gratefully. “So we hitting up The Whisky or what tonight boys?” He continued, addressing Vince as well as me, who was pouting on the couch next to him.

I chuckled without amusement, shaking my head. “Fuck no, not a chance I’m going in there yet.”

Tommy scowled at me. “Sixx, come on dude, you cant avoid the place forever. Plus, she might not even be working tonight!”

“I’m not risking it! I’m not gonna be able to enjoy the night if she’s there, judging my every fucking move, you know how she is.” I replied, rolling my eyes.

“So you’ve still not talked to her since..” Tommy trailed off, awkwardly. But Vince happily picked up from where he’d left off.

“Since you lead her on, fucked her & then blew her off?” He snapped arrogantly, instantly causing my jaw to tense.

“Don’t fucking start with me, Vinny. I’m not in the mood.”

“Oh, you mean you don't wanna hear about what a dick you were? What a surprise.” The sarcasm thick in his voice.

I slammed my hand down on the recording table & stood up sharply. “The fuck is your problem, man?” I snarled, his attitude & the mounting stress from the album mixing together to create a dangerous cocktail of anger & belligerence.

“My problem?” He questioned, standing up to meet my stare. “My problem is you Sixx. Beths a good fucking girl, what you did was real messed up, I should fucking floor you again for how you treated her. You owe the chick an apology at the goddamn least.” He spat, his anger in Beths defence honourable, but fucking irritating.

I chuckled arrogantly at his misplaced valiance. “Give it up the knight in shining armour act Vinny, I didn’t see you rushing to commit to her when she was getting your dick wet.”

I saw the danger flash in his eyes as he took a warning step towards me. “I didn’t fuck her & leave either.” He hissed, the venom in his voice palpable.

“Aw, did I upset your girlfriend?” I joked patronisingly, very aware that I was pushing it too far, but yet I couldn’t help myself, Vince acting all high & mighty was really starting to piss me off.

Vinces eyes narrowed sharply & I saw his hands ball into fists at his side. “Like I said, she’s a good girl. She didn’t deserve that.” He said through his teeth, the strain to keep calm evident in his voice.

I smirked at him amused, looking him up & down. “Whatcha gonna do Vince? Hit me again? Defend her honour? She’s a chick dude & a stuck up one at that. And she ditched your ass if you remember, you should be thanking me.” I laughed, shrugging.

“You know what Sixx, you’re an asshole. You know as well as I do that Beth isn’t another fucking groupie to this band. Nah, I didn’t wanna date her, but I like her- We all like her.” He corrected himself quickly.

“Vinny’s right man, I’m not taking sides, but Beths cool & I kinda do like having her around!” Tommy piped up, nodding.

“Fuck off T-Bone, you only want her around because you know as soon as she goes, so does your uptight piece of ass.” I shot at him, my frustration with the pair of them growing at a dangerous rate.

“Dude c’mon, there’s no need..”

I cut Tommy off viciously. “What the fuck has happened to this band?!” I shouted, shoving Vince out of my face. “Since when do we give this much of a fuck about chicks?! Look at where we are?!” I gestured around the recording studio. Mick had stopped playing & had casually lit a cigarette as he watched us bickering through the sound-proof glass. “This is what’s important. Now I’m going for a fucking smoke, this conversation is done & when I come back in we’re gonna record a fucking album, got it?!”

I barged out of the studio, flicked open my lighter & sparked up my cigarette, leaning back against the wall as I took in a shaky drag, my anger still surface level. I exhaled & closed my eyes, feeling the May sun warm my face & start to melt my mood away.

What was everyone’s fuckin’ obsession with this girl?!

Yeah she was cool, but she’s still a chick. And chicks = trouble.

I let my mind wander back to the look she gave me as she lay beneath me, my hand around her throat as she came undone & smirked to myself as I lifted the cigarette back to my smug lips. She was so worth the chase.

But Christ, I’m supposed to feel bad because I don’t want all that cutesy shit afterwards? No. Beth knew me, we’d had enough arguments about the kinda guy I am, she did this to herself. Not my fault that she thought she meant anything more to me than any one of those other girls. She was a fuck. A good fuck. But a fuck nonetheless.

I took another drag as the image of Beth sat in her bed with that stung look on her face snuck its way involuntarily into my mind. I could see those hurt tears & hear her bitter words ordering me to leave. I couldn’t help the pang of guilt in my stomach that accompanied the image.

She’s a fuckin’ chick, Nikki. Chicks = trouble, I recited to myself, rubbing my face roughly with my hands, almost in hope that I could scrub away the memory of her pained face. Get over it man, it’s done.

I sharply exhaled the last of my smoke before throwing it aggressively to the floor, somehow more frustrated than I was before.

Time to go record a fuckin’ album.

*Later*

*Beths POV*

I smoothed out the material of the tiny black dress I was wearing as I pouted my lips at my reflection in the mirror, appreciating the sight of myself all dolled up & ready to forget all about Nikki fucking Sixx.

I flashed an all too familiar looking smirk at myself before I spun around of my sky high heels & strutted out of the ladies bathroom & back over to Sophia who was waiting at the bar, two drinks in hand. She winked at me as I got closer, holding out one of the glasses for me to take.

“Girl, you look unreal! If we weren’t here trying to pull for you, I’d take you home right now,” she laughed, nudging me & winking again.

I let out a laugh as I took a swipe at her arm, “I am not here trying to pull!” I insisted, not even managing to fool myself. It’d been a little over a week since I went from the all time high of fucking Nikki to the crashing low of realising I meant nothing to him in a matter of minutes & I’d laid around feeling sorry for myself ever since. Well, not tonight. I was gonna find a guy & I was gonna remind myself what a goddamn catch I am.

“Oh Beth, there’s a reason you’re wearing that dress tonight & girl, it ain’t for the coverage,” she giggled as I took another playful swipe. “Hey, there’s no judgements here! I’d want a good lay after the emotional rollercoaster that has been Nikki Sixx!”

I raised my eyebrows at her as she quickly mimed locking her lips. “Sorry, sorry, we don’t mention that name, my bad.”

I shook my head. “It’s fine, I’m over it,” I lied. “But, if a cute guy wants to buy me a drink & maybe show me a good time, I’m not gonna say no.” I shrugged as we both burst into a fit of giggles, before I took a long sip of the very strong cocktail.

“Well that sounds like my queue.” Came a smooth voice from behind me. I turned to face the handsome stranger who was stood leaning casually against the bar, eyebrow cocked as his eyes scanned up & down my body, drinking in the sight of me. “You have excellent timing.” I blushed, appreciating his good looks right back. He was classically good looking, with blonde hair & a chiselled jaw, dressed smart in a shirt that hugged his toned physique & muscular arms just enough to spark a little intrigue as to what lay underneath. He was the exact opposite to Nikki in every physical way. Where Nikki was unruly & unkept, this guy was clean shaven & well groomed. He wore no leather or studs & his smile was friendly & genuine, not smug & he wasn’t dripping in arrogance.

“I’m Daniel.” He introduced himself, holding out a hand for me to shake. I looked into his electric blue eyes & blushed once again.

“Beth, it’s nice to meet you.” I replied as smoothly as I could.

“& I’m Sophia, but I guess no-one asked,” she piped up mockingly, winking at me. “Now Dan, unless you’ve got a cute, single friend for me, I’m gonna get outta your way & go for a dance.” Soph smirked, grabbing her drinking & flouncing off towards the dance floor, blowing us a kiss as she did.

We both let out a laugh. “She seems great,” Daniel said as I nodded, taking a sip of my drink. “She mentioned something about an emotion rollercoaster though? I hope I’m not stepping on anyone’s toes?” He queried.

I swallowed my drink before letting out a little laugh. “Not at all, there are no toes to be stepping on, don’t worry.”

“Well good, I’m glad. I’m surprised though, a gorgeous girl like you doesn’t have a man. You’re sure there’s no-one, because you seem way too good to be true!” He flirted, as I laughed

“Oh you’re smooth.” I teased, “but no, there’s absolutely no-one.” I answered, pushing any & all thoughts & feelings I might have towards Nikki Sixx out of my mind.

*Little later*

“Wow, so you’re a doctor?” I asked, impressed.

Daniel laughed, shaking his head. “I wish! I’m a med student currently, but that’s the hope one day.”

“What made you wanna get into medicine then?”

He paused for a second, his warm smile faltering for a brief moment & I sensed his hesitation to answer. “I, um, lost my dad when I was younger. Spent a lot of time in hospitals with him when he got sick. I remember watching all these doctors around me taking care of people, helping, curing.. They seemed like superheroes to me back then. After we lost my dad, I knew I wanted to help people, be one of those people that kids could look up to in the same way I did, yanno?”

I nodded, smiling at his compassion & genuineness.

“Sorry, bit heavy for a first meet, I know.” He laughed awkwardly.

“Not at all!” I replied, “I asked the question, you just answered it honestly, I appreciate that.”

As Daniel carried on talking about his studies, I couldn’t help but admire him. THIS was the kinda guy I was supposed to end up with. Smart, hot as hell, a brilliant career ahead of him, goals, aspirations.. He was exactly the kinda man I could take home to my father. Daniel was everything I should want & he was actually interested in me.

And yet, I still felt that unwanted & yet infuriatingly all-to-familiar flame ignite the second I heard his voice drift over from the bar.

“Jack & coke please darlin’.”

Nikkis voice hit me like a slap in the face & rush desire all at once & I immediately froze, my body unsure how to react to my contrasting emotions.

“Are you ok?” Daniel asked, reaching out & touching my arm, concern written across his face. I flinched as his touch, still lost somewhere in Nikkis voice, & snatched my arm away instinctively.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-“ Started Daniel, his concern look now laced with panic.

“N-no, its fine honestly, its not you, its just..” I drifted off, briefly glancing behind me, trying to pin a location on the voice. My eyes caught sight of the four of them standing at the bar, waiting on their drinks. Nikki was dressed in his usual leather trousers, torn at the knees, & combat boots & a torn up shirt. His hair almost appeared messier than usual & he had a cigarette hanging from his lips. He couldn’t have been more different from the sharp, handsome man sat opposite me.

Daniel followed my line of sight & spotted the literal motley crew. Nikki was already hitting on the bar maid, distracting her whilst Tommy & Vince reached over & stole a bottle from behind the bar; all whilst Mick stood by, watching disapprovingly & swigging from his trademark flask.

“You know them?” Daniel asked hesitantly.

“Nope.” I replied bluntly, snapping back to reality & turning back to him. “I fancy getting out of here though, you wanna head back to mine, continue the drinking there?”

Daniel looked a little taken a back at the upfront offer as I stood up & downed the last of my drink, but I was fairly certain he wouldn’t refuse. I didn’t care either way at this point, I just needed out of here.

“Um sure-“

“Great, I’ll go find Sophia..”

“She’s over there, talking to those guys you apparently don’t know.” Dan stated, his tone now flat & a little judgemental as he raised an eyebrow at me.

“Look, Daniel, I don’t wanna get into it, but its better we just leave.” I said, hoping to avoid any questions, but his face was growing more unimpressed by the second. “I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you Dan, ok? But I can’t be here right now, so I gotta go. I’d, um, I’d like you to join me.. If you want to, of course. I mean, you don’t have to..” I mumbled, suddenly very aware & embarrassed by how he must be viewing me in that moment.

I saw his eyes narrow at my discomfort &, I’m assuming against his better judgement, he nodded & stood up to join me. “I’m not sure what’s happening here, but I’ve enjoyed getting to know you too & maybe you could fill me in on why you’re running away over that drink at yours?” He asked, a little suspicious but friendly. I nodded, giving him a small smile.

We started towards the exit when I felt a pair of hands snake around my waist & lift me excitedly into the air. I squealed in shock & suprise as Tommy span me around before placing me back on my feet.

“Beth! I cant believe you guys are here, what’re the chances? Soph said you came here to avoid us & we came here because Sixx wanted to avoid you! How fuckin’ funny is that?” He said, roaring with laughter, his hand resting on his stomach as he struggled to regain control on his amusement.

“Tommy.” I said sternly, shooting him a look that told him to shut the hell up. He quickly stood up straight, coughing a little to hide his laughter, before glancing over towards Daniel.

“Hey, who’s this? I’m Tommy dude, how ya doing?” He said, offering out his hand enthusiastically.

“Daniel, I’m good man, how’re you?” He answered, accepting the handshake hesitantly.

“I’m good? Hey, you wanna come meet the rest of the guys?” Tommy offered enthusiastically, without a second thought as to why that might not be such a good idea.

“Actually T-Bone, we’re just heading out.” I replied sharply, giving him another warning look.

“Ok, ok,” he laughed, holding his hands up in defeat as he got the hint. “It was nice to meet you man!” Tommy smiled at Dan, who nodded awkwardly back to him before T-Bone practically bounced back over to the bar.

“Don’t know them huh?” Daniel asked, his voice oozing with sarcasm suddenly, making me cringe.

“I’m sorry, they’re just.. A lot, ok?” I tried to explain, frustrated, mainly with myself.

“What’s the deal with this one?” Asked Dan, gesturing towards Nikki, who was leaning against the bar, sipping on his Jack & coke, his eyes fixed coldly on he two of us.

“That’s the, um.. Emotional rollercoaster.” I answered sheepishly, coughing to distract from my amounting discomfort, whilst simultaneously avoiding the eyes of both Nikki & Dan.

“Right.. Well, your rollercoaster is on his way over here.”

Fuck.

I glanced up to see Nikki, in all his arrogance, strolling towards us, his usual smirk fixed in place.

“I’m so sorry for whatever he says.” I quickly whispered to Dan, before Nikki came to a stop in front of us. I watched his eyes scan up & down Daniel, obvious sizing him up without an ounce of subtlety, before he turned his attention to me.

“Leaving without introducing us, Lizzy?” He drawled, the pretension thick in his voice.

“Yes Nikki, I am. So if you’d like to move-“

He cut me off, his focus back on Daniel. “I’m Nikki Sixx,” he stated, without the courtesy of a handshake.

“Daniel,” Dan replied, flatly, seemingly glad there was no extended hand to shake.

“And how do you know the lovely Lizzy here, Dan?” Nikki asked, his smirk never once faltering.

“We just met tonight, but we’re justing heading back to hers, if you don’t mind.” Dan replied simply, taking my hand.

“Oh but you see, I do mind.” Nikki stated bluntly, his smile as wide as it was dark as he side stepped back in front of Dan who had tried to manoeuvre round him. “Lizzy here is what we like to call a groupie & we,” he gestured towards the rest of the band behind him, “don’t particularly like sharing.”

“Oh fuck you, Sixx.” I scoffed, my face growing hot with a mix of anger & embarrassment. I turned to look at Dan, cringing at his raised eyebrow & gave him an apologetic look. “Don’t listen to him, he’s just being an asshole, I’m not a groupie.”

“Really?!” Nikki replied, dragging out the word dramatically as his shit eating grin somehow managed to grow wider. “Because I remember fucking you about a week ago & my boy Vince over there,” he pointed to at the very pissed off looking lead singer, “swears he remembers fucking you not long before that? Or are with both mistaken? I mean, there are a lot of you girls, you do all kinda look the same.. Feel the same too.” He chuckled darkly, shooting me a sly look. I glared at him with an expression so deadly that dared him to carry on. He rose to the challenge. “I tell you what though buddy,” Nikki continued, leaning into Dan so he was speaking into his ear, but just loud enough for me to catch what he was saying, “if you’re heading back to hers you’re in for a treat. She’s got the mouth of a motherfuckin’ Angel.” He finished, glancing over at me & winking. I was prepared to fly at him in a blind rage, fists balled, ready to wipe that smug smile off of his face permanently, when Dan spoke up, in a voice so peaceful & gentle, that it made his words seem somehow harsher.

“You are an arrogant piece of shit. I’ve been sat with this girl for the last hour & I spend a minute in your presence & it’s immediately clear to me that she’s way too good for you. But I’m sure she’ll realise that in her own time.” Daniel turned back to me, his expression stoney & irritated, but I could swear there was a hint of sympathy in his eyes. “If you ever get off of this rollercoaster doll, you know where you can find me.” He said, letting go of my hand as he stepped around the unmoving Nikki.

“Daniel, wait..” I caught him by the arm & quickly stepped in his path, stopping him.

“Beth, you seem like a great girl & I don’t think I’ve ever hit it off so quickly with someone like I have with you. But it’s obvious you have something with that guy & I’m not really interested in competing with him for your attention.”

I nodded slowly, knowing his words were fair. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok. And I mean it, if you decide to get off the rollercoaster.. I can probably offer you a slightly calmer ride. A carousel maybe?” Dan winked, laughing as I let out a light giggle. His blue eyes focused on mine, sending a surge of electricity through my body that momentarily extinguished the flame that Nikki somehow always managed to light. I lifted my lips & placed them softly on Daniels for the briefest second, before pulling away.

“Thank you.” I whispered.

His eyes lingered on my lips for a second, silently asking for more, before he came back to reality & gave me a genuine smile. “It was nice to meet you Beth. I do hope I get to see you again”, he nodded, before kissing my cheek & heading for the door.

I stood still for a second, gathering my thoughts & regaining my composure, before walking towards the bar where the Crüe & Sophia were stood, trying to act as if they hadn’t been watching.

I had barely made it over to them before Nikki was straight in there with his sly comments, immediately trying to get under my skin.

“Aw was Prince Charming not happy to hear the Princess was actually a band slu-“

Nikki didn’t get the chance to finish his insult. He was silenced by the remainder of my drink soaking him as I threw it at him furiously, dousing his arrogance with my cocktail.

“That is for thinking you have any right to chase away a good guy just because your petty, selfish ass is jealous.” I spat. “And this..”

The loud crack of my hand slapping him sharply across the face echoed around the bar, followed by the whooping of Vince & Tommy. I even caught a glimpse of Mick smirking.

Nikki recoiled, his hand flying to his crimson cheek, shock & fury on his face. But his rage couldn’t match mine. I grabbed his face roughly, my hand cupping his chin & cheeks, forcing him to meet my wrathful glare.

“That is for fucking me & leaving me like I was one of your whores.” I seethed, my voice quiet & dangerous.

Nikkis face went from white hot anger to an ice cold stare in an instant as he straightened up, pushing me off of him as he did. He took a step towards me, but I didn’t move an inch. I was way too fucking angry to back down.

“Listen Princess, you’re fucking lucky I’m not a bad guy-“ he began, but my sharp laugh rang loud, cutting him off.

“Not a bad guy?! Nikki, are you really that delusional?! You’ve done nothing but purposely fuck with my head from the day I met you. You’ve insulted me, dragged me down to your level, used me, screwed my chances with two different guys & for what?!” I screamed, tears threatening to form. “No, you know what?! You're fucking lucky Sixx, I’m not gonna do this here. I’m done. I don’t want anything to do with you.”

I span around, ready to make my dramatic exit, when I came face to face with a very happy looking band manager, Doc. He clearly couldn’t care less about our drama as he marched over to us like nothing was happening.

“Bartender, a round of shots for these boys & their girlfriends. We need to celebrate;”

“The fuck are you talking about Doc?” Snapped Nikki, his eyes still fixed on me.

“Boys, you’re in!" He announced, unable to hide his obvious pleased-with-himself smirk "I've just been told that Mötley Crüe have been offered a last minute slot to play alongside the likes of Judas Priest, Scorpions, Van Halen & The Prince of fucking Darkness, Ozzy fucking Osbourne at the US Festival on Memorial Day weekend!” Doc exclaimed, laughing as the band began shouting & whooping, looking disbelieved & excited as hell. Choruses of “are you serious?!” & “you’re fucking kidding!” we’re passed between them as Doc reassured them that they were on their way up.

In that moment, watching these guys I’d grown to love over the last couple of years get the break they worked so hard for, I couldn’t be mad. I watched as Tommy jumped on Nikkis back, Vince hugged Doc & Mick silently smirked to himself. They deserved this.

Doc handed me & Sophia a shot as we congratulated them all, although I couldn’t quite bring myself to share my enthusiasm with Nikki. But he was too busy to notice as he held up his shot glass in a toast.

“To us! We’ve got an old man, a kid drummer, a cover band singer & a fucking run away. Win it all or loose it all, we’re Mötley fucking Crue!” He yelled, his excitement & energy almost infectious, as much as I wanted to hate him.

“To you guys!” Sophia cheered, laughing as we all downed our shots.

“Let’s get another round in, we’re celebrating! And pour one for yourself gorgeous.” Vince called to the barmaid who was more than happy to oblige, blushing as he winked at her, turning on the Vince Neil charm that would assure she’d be going home with him at the end of the night. I remember that well, I chuckled to myself.

The atmosphere of the night had changed so dramatically from what it was 10 minutes previously, everyone’s anger & awkwardness forgotten in the wake of such elating news. I looked around all the happy faces; Vince flirting with the bar maid, Tommy all over a giggling Sophia, Mick & Doc eagerly discussing set lists & felt an overwhelming sense of misplacement. After all that had happened, I just couldn’t bring myself to match their enthusiasm, not tonight.

I noticed Nikki's gaze focused on me, his face betraying his now obvious guilt as he watched me stand alone, uncomfortable & upset. His sudden success had clearly snapped him out of his petty, jealous mood.

Uninterested in an apology from him, I let my eyes continue to scan the room, looking anywhere but at him, when Sophia glanced over, catching my eye & gestured for me to join in. I forced my best smile as I walked over to her & Tommy.

“Take another shot Reynolds!” Tommy shouted, pushing a shot glass of mysterious liquid at me. I laughed politely as I shook my head.

“Thanks, but no thanks T-Bone. I think I’m actually gonna shoot yanno, I’m getting pretty tired.” I lied.

“Beth, don’t leave, please?” Tommy pleaded, his face suddenly serious, moving away from Soph & towards me.

“T-Bone, it’s not a big deal honestly, you guys enjoy your celebrations!”

“Just talk to him. I know the fucker doesn’t deserve it, Beth, I know. But he cares for you more than you think, I promise. We all do.” He added, placing his hand in mine & giving it a squeeze as he flashed me a goofy half smile.

I gave him a half smile & squeezed his hand back. “I know Tommy & I love you guys, I really do. But I can’t be around him, its.. it’s too hard.” I muttered back, so quietly it was almost inaudible above the music playing in the bar. But Tommy caught it.

“You care for him too, don’t you?” He asked, just as quietly.

I nodded, my eyes filling with tears. “God knows why T-Bone, he’s made it clear he doesn’t care about me. I’m just another girl he fucked.” I sniffed, furiously wiping away my tears before anyone noticed.

“Beth, Sixx is a dick. I’ve watched him fuck over chick after chick who was convinced they’d tame him & he tosses them without a second thought. But not you. I don’t know what the fuck goes on in Nikkis head, but that fucker cares about you. So please, don’t ditch us all just because you think he doesn’t.”

“I’m sorry Tom, I know he’s your friend & you wanna see the best in him, but you’re wrong. Nikki Sixx only cares about himself.” I replied, straightening my posture & regaining my composure. I pulled Tommy into a tight hug & congratulated him again. “I’ll see ya around T-Bone, I’m sure.” I winked, gesturing towards Sophia.

He laughed, “I’ll look after her.”

I blew him a kiss before heading towards the door, not wanting to disturb anyone else’s night with my drama.

“Lizzy, wait up.” I heard Nikkis voice call. I closed my eyes briefly, choosing whether to stop or keep going. I chose the latter & walked swiftly out of the door, pretending I hadn’t heard.

But my ignorance was in vain & he was right behind me, following suit out of the bar.

“Nikki please, just go back-“

My sentence was cut short by his lips crashing onto mine. I froze, feeling anger, lust & passion sweep through my body as my brain tried to compute the correct emotional response. I pushed him away sharply, deciding anger overwhelmed any feelings I had towards him.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?! Are you asking for another slap?!”

“Lizzy, I’m sorry ok?” He blurted out, clearly uncomfortable with apologies.

“You’re sorry?! Oh, well that makes everything ok then.” I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes at him.

“I know ok, I fucked up. I’ve been a dick to you & I’m sorry. I just, I don’t know how to do this shit.” He mumbled, running his hands through his tangled hair.

“Do what, Sixx?” My frustration mounting with his half-assed apology.

“I don’t fucking do.. This.” He gestured between the two of us, struggling to find his words.

I sighed with exasperation. “What is this Nikki? Is this an apology or what, because honestly there isn’t much you can say right now, just let me go home.” I finished, turning to leave, but he caught hold of my hand, pulling me into him. He placed his hand gently under my chin, bringing my face up to his.

“I don’t do this, ok? I don’t do feelings or relationships, fuck, I won’t even sleep with a girl twice.” He laughed, before clearing his throat when he saw my unamused expression. “Lizzy, I am sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I got pissed as hell when I saw you with that fucking pretty boy, I snapped.. I don't know, I guess I was kinda jealous.. I do care about you.”

I scoffed. “You’ve got a funny way of showing it.”

“I do, Lizzy. But listening to you telling me why I’m a bad guy, all the shit I’ve done to you, you’re right. And I’m sorry. Just, please don’t leave. Come celebrate with us, we all want you here. I want you here.. You’ve been with us from the start, it wouldn’t feel the same without you. You mean a lot to me... Um, to us. You mean a lot to us.” He corrected.

I looked into his green eyes & saw the sincerity, noted the lack of arrogance in his voice & the absence of his usual smug smile. I so badly wanted to give into him. I wanted to taste his kiss again, melt against him like I always do. I wanted to take his hand & go back inside, enjoy the night with the band, drink, have fun & fall into bed with him when the night was over.

But I’d fell for Nikkis sweeter side before, I knew how the night would end. He’d leave afterwards & I’d be hurt all over again. And I wasn’t gonna let that happen.

“No Nikki, I’m sorry.”

117 notes · View notes

vanchlo · 4 years

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The Assistant / Chapter Thirty-Three, “If It Kills Me”

A story about what happens when she can’t be just his assistant anymore, and he can no longer be only her boss. Now, can they be happy with being just friends?

Read this story from the beginning here! :-)

Inspo tag here!

*NEW* Spotify playlist in the works can be found here, songs that inspire me for the story and have significance in the story c:

Warnings: one brief mention of vomiting, and some mild language.

SNEAKY PEEEEEEEEEEEK

“And Becky’s face consumes my thoughts, much like it’s been captivating my conscience as of recent. Rather unsurprisingly.

There it remains for days, much like it has been. It follows me through the air as I stare out the window, floating above the clouds. It crops into my conversations, leeching any enjoyment gathered from them. I even see it in a crowd of people inside the walls of the courtroom before I deliver my closing statement. When I look a second time, I’m disappointed to find the eyes of a stranger.

I only find a respite from longing for her face when I turn my phone off, trying to stop wondering why she won’t return my texts. That thought only sticks to all of my others during the coming week with more ignored texts, craving her voice, and sufficing for browsing her Instagram. Her face. That smile. The smell that sat in the corner of her neck. I miss all of it.”

Song Inspiration: If It Kills Me by Jason Mraz (click to listen)

“It’s like before it’s gonna storm, you know? You can’t see it, but you can feel it, like this, uh electricity, you know?” - Steve Harrington, Stranger Things

The warm rays hit my cheeks as my sandals pound on the pavement. I wonder how I could ever be unhappy given the May sun shining down on me, and walking from my favorite restaurant. Without fail, the blissful idea is stolen away by a swarm of thoughts dosed in reality. And a particular one that reminds me of what I need to do, despite the dread I’ve been feeling. Not even the former respite of Asher’s hug after our shared lunch can keep them away.

Pulling my phone from my pocket, I swipe through my apps until I find the right one. Stopping in front of my gray car, I lean against the door with a huff. My thumbs hover across the screen nervously, followed by a curse under my breath. Quickly, they flit across the screen composing words in front of my eyes. Sliding into my driver seat, I stare at the screen for a moment longer before hitting send.

I wait for the chime to come, telling me I have a new message, from him. Nervousness coats my limbs and only grows worse as the minutes tick by driving home. Waiting. But when I check my phone after walking in the door, my lock screen showing my dad and I’s smiling faces is blank.

No new messages.

Sliding off my black sandals, I pad through the shared living room and kitchen area before reaching my bedroom. My laptop beckons for me across the room on my desk, and I sit down before it. I hope that maybe if I don’t procrastinate this specific thing, maybe things will turn out a little better. But as I’m opening a study guide for Family Law’s final exam, I’m proven wrong.

The chime grabs my attention immediately, making my fingers still on the keyboard. Flitting my eyes to the lavender Speck phone case, I grow antsy at wondering who the text is from. And what it says. Inhaling nervously, I pick it up and wake up the screen. The few words of a preview I see of the text cues a sour anxiousness to grow in my stomach. Bringing my knees up onto my chair, I pull them against my chest as I open the text.

Hey I’m so sorry I’ve been terrible at texting back, finals these next two weeks are getting to me. Speaking of that I realized that I have to take a final at the time we’re supposed to get lunch in a few days. I’m really sorry but can we reschedule . . . again? I was thinking in two weeks when I’m finally free from the clutches of uni????? :(

Harry

sorry cant love. im in edinburgh all that week for a case. lets talk about it when im back. good luck w finals xx

Sighing, I type up a short response, agreeing to that. With guilt casting a shadow over me, I return my attention to the lengthy study guide. The gross feeling in my stomach remains, and with its arrival, my excitement for our lunch date is replaced with disappointment. I’ve been looking forward to it for weeks since we rescheduled it the first time, due to me messing up the dates, again. Peeking my eyes at my phone, I turn away and slump against my chair.

It’s been a month since I saw him last, and although we’ve sent a handful of texts, they haven’t been enough for me. Skye, of course, told me that there’s nothing stopping me from showing up at his office door, but she’s wrong. I don’t know his schedule anymore, and for all I know, I’d be waiting around for him. Plus, my appearance would just yell ‘desperate!’ Sometimes, I wonder what little world Skye is tucked away into that’s far simpler, not realizing I still have to work during the day, especially more so this summer.

But as the days drag on with chemo and radiation appointments, and lectures upon lectures, I think maybe Skye has the right idea being so optimistic. Maybe.

Over the next few weeks, I see him at almost every corner I turn, and it hurts more than it should after all these weeks. The ignored texts shouldn’t feel like a fresh stab wound when I see that Scrabble box in the family room, get on that very same lift, or walk past the nurse’s station I found him leaning against that morning. Nothing compares to the piano and the pang I feel in my chest at the sight of it. It comes every time I walk through those doors and am reminded of the intimacy held on those keys. No, it didn’t get easier after the first time being back there with my dad, or the fifth time. Avoiding that gray sofa like the plague only reminded me of the texts I sent him that went unanswered. I can’t blame him though, because like a bitch, I took a week sometimes to reply to him.

The tight feeling in my chest only feels heavier as I sit on the plaid couch in my childhood living room. I can’t even enjoy watching FRIENDS like I used to be able to, as their faces bring forth the sound of his laugh. It pains me to turn down their voices as I dig my phone out from under the cushions. I try not to let it get to me when I, once again, find no new text messages. My attempt is futile and it only causes me to take longer to open the phone app. By now, I know his number by heart, but my shaky hands cause me to mess up a few times.

Pressing the phone to my ear, all I can hear is its ringing and the pounding of my heart. As the seconds drag on, I’m almost certain I’ll hear the voicemail next. But then I’m pleasantly surprised, although the bitterness in my stomach blossoms.

“Hullo?” His gravelly voice pulls my lips into an instant smile. Rubbing the back of my neck anxiously, the words fall from my lips hurriedly.

“Hi, Harry.”

“Hey, how’s it goin’?” he responds curtly, a clattering noise heard in the background before he mutters a ‘shit.’

“I’m sorry, did I call at a bad time?” I ask quickly, regret filling my veins.

“No, yer fine. ‘m jus’ makin’ dinna.”

“Oh um, nice. What are you cooking?” I inquire, twirling the braided silver ring on my pointer finger. Swallowing, I wait to hear his molasses drawl again, like music to my ears.

“Jus’ a stir fry. So . . . why’d ya ring?” Harry responds, a coolness hugging his voice.

“Um, I haven’t heard from you in a while and wanted to say hi.”

“Hi,” he hums awkwardly, followed by the sound of a door closing. Squeezing my eyes shut, uneasiness falls over me in a wave. Oddly, I wonder if all of a sudden I can’t call to say hi. “Ya, we’ve both been busy. Cases fer me, an’ prolly uni an’ yer dad’s treatments fer you.”

“Yeah,” I agree aloud, my chin falling to rest in my palm. But it leaves a second later to lose my fingers in my hair. “I wanted to tell you that I finished my finals last week, so now I just have clinical left in the fall. Oh, and my dad got to ring the bell today. He’s all done with chemo and radiation after his scans all looked good. It’s hard to believe that he’s cancer-free. His doctors will, of course, have to keep an eye on him in the future to make sure it doesn’t come back, but I couldn’t be happier.”

“Tha’s wonderful, love,” Harry coos into my ear, the first notes of happiness heard in his voice. It begins to put me at ease, and cause me to think maybe something isn’t off after all. “‘m really glad t’ hear that- well both o’ those things.”

Unbeknownst to me, I find myself nodding along with his words as if I needed his confirmation. But his words stop there, and the sickening feeling that something is wrong settles back in. A small ‘yeah’ stumbles off my lips as my fingers form into a fist in my lap, debating what to say next. Or if I should ask what I’ve been wanting to say the entire time.

“We weren’t able to get ahold of each other a few weeks ago to reschedule lunch. Would you still like to?” Going out on a limb, I let the words fly.

I watch for them apprehensively, uncertain if they’ll take flight. The loud sound from his side, the subsequent shuffling, and a voice saying his name shoots them down hastily.

“‘m sorry, I gotta go. ‘ll text ya ‘bout gettin’ lunch,” Harry remarks, his words stringing together swiftly. I barely have the chance to say an ‘okay’ before he abruptly hangs up, sewing together an unwanted thought for me.

Tossing my phone to the other end of the couch, I fall back against the cushions. Turning up the volume of the telly, I avert my gaze back to the make-believe world I’ve always taken comfort in. As the phone call gnaws away at my insides, planting insecurities every few steps, I let the characters whisk me away. Even if their faces and familiar jokes will now never stop reminding me of him, and something I let go of that I didn’t know I had. I only feel worse when I realize that I knew then that he’d never send that text, and I think he knew that, too.

“Staring at it isn’t going to make it ring, y’know,” somebody states, pulling me from my webs of thoughts.

Lifting my attention away from the black screen in my hand, I catch Myles looking at me impatiently.

“Wha- ‘m sorry. I was listenin’.”

“Then what’d I just say?” he requests, the hand propped against his chin rising in a silent question.

My lips fall apart to welcome my voice, but nothing comes out. Shrugging, he receives his answer and replies with a disapproving glare.

“Hare, this is important stuff. We’re leaving for Edinburgh tomorrow for the case, it’s a huge one.”

“I know, My. Jus’ repeat what ya said, please,” I huff, batting a hand at him. His eyes roll into the back of his head when he leans back in his leather chair.

“I swear to God, Harry, I-.”

“Stop,” I retort, growing annoyed.

He plays with the point of his quiffed blonde hair before clearing his throat. Although I try to listen the second time around, my gaze is lulled back to my laptop screen. My fingers itch to touch the keys and type up words, and when Myles begrudgingly answers his ringing phone, I find my chance. Sliding my silent phone into my pocket, I click on the blue thought bubble, only to be met with disappointment. Brushing it away, my fingers fly across the keys and my words are sent with a soft hum. Soon, Myles hangs up the phone with a perturbed sigh and resumes the conversation we were having. Again, I try to return to the bubble we share and the words that occupy it, but my mind is consumed with the anticipation of that coveted ding. And with Becky’s face, much like it’s been captivating my thoughts as of recent. Rather unsurprisingly.

It crowds my mind when I wait for the boarding call, tapping my fingers along the screen and watching the words be sent off. I only find a respite from longing for her face when I turn my phone off, trying to stop wondering why she won’t return my texts. That thought only sticks to all of my others during the coming week with more ignored texts, craving her voice, and sufficing for browsing her Instagram. Her face. That smile. The smell that sat in the corner of her neck. All of it. I miss all of it. It gnawed away at me slowly, and terribly, burying doubts beneath my defenses. They sprang up when I least expected them, and when I thought about sending just one more text. A few words wouldn’t hurt anything, I thought, but at the same time, I distrust the ultimate impact they could have.

The pounding jars me from my reverie, bringing me to my feet slowly. Padding past the television and kitchen area, a yawn jumps from my lips. Another pound lands on the door, dragging my brow into a knot.

“Oh, shuddup!” I exclaim in disbelief, wrapping my fingers around the smooth metal of the door. Yanking it open, I find the grinning bearded face of my mate standing on my stoop. “‘m not goin’, Rore, I already told ya this.”

“C’mon, Harry, I’ll look like a right idiot being there all alone,” Rory responds, his steps telling me he’s following me inside once I turn around. “Help a mate out here.”

“Ya, ‘coz ya were so helpful tha otha day when I asked ya t’ consult with me fer the Starkey case.” Scoffing, his words pause between his lips as I fill a glass of water from the attachment on the fridge. “Why’re ya goin’ anyways, since it sounds like sumthin’ yer dreadin’? And since when d’ya even go t’ these sorta things? Last place I thought ‘d see you at, Rore.”

“I don’t, but it’s for me sister’s showing. I can’t miss it, she’s me baby sister. I’d hear about it from me mum for weeks.”

Snorting, I have to pull the glass of water away from my lips.

“Hope ya bloody choke on that water, mate,” Rory scoffs, only making me laugh harder. Water flies from my lips as I’ve forgotten the glass on the marbled countertop. “Are ya coming or not, Harry? Ya know it’s a good place to pick up chicks, too. They blooming love these art gallery places.”

Recovering from my fit of giggles, I turn my head to find Rory waiting with the question in his eyes. He huffs and riffles a hand through his tousled blonde hair a few shades lighter than that which covers his face. Shaking his head, he wiggles his head at me.

“I’ll consult with you on the next case, or even give ya first pick,” he whines, folding his hands together under his chin, as if he’s praying.

“‘m yer bloody boss, I always get first picks,” I murmur, a smile cracking at the end of my words.

“Oh, fuck off, would you?” he spits, pushing at a chair in front of the seated bar attached to the kitchen island. Clucking his tongue, he messes with the collar of his navy blue blazer thrown over a bloody Zeppelin shirt. Yeah, you sure look artsy there, Rore. But with the next words that fly from his sailor’s mouth, he pins me down. “What’re ya gonna do here anyways, sit and watch the bleeding telly all in your lonesome when ya could be with me getting damn a date?”

Biting my lip, my house slippers come into my view and when Rory’s eyes find them, a laugh explodes from his lips. “Go hurry up and bloody change before you’re too far gone, mate. I’ll be in the car,” he titters before his voice falls with a delighted sigh. Delight found in my pain.

“Two cases, Rore. Any two cases I want, ya consult with me on. Ya got it?” I argue, following on his footsteps.

“Whatever makes ya feel better, mate. I know you'll be thanking me later tonight.”

“Doubt it,” I mutter, watching him open the door, sure there’s a sly grin covering his face.

I turn to jog up the stairs until I arrive in my bedroom. Quickly, I toss on skinny jeans, a Keith Haring shirt, and a mustard button up smattered with faded white flowers. I look rather artsy, I reckon, I decide as I look at myself in my bathroom mirror. It’s an easy feat when you’re standing next to wannabe Rory over there, though. After taming my hair and finding a pair of shoes, I pad down the stairs.

“Alexa, turn off all o’ my lights,” I announce, slipping my wallet and phone into my pocket as my hous darkens around me.

“Take fucking long enough?” Rory groans when I slide into the passenger seat of his silver Sentra.

“Shuddup and drive, will you? So we can get this ova with.”

“If you’re gonna be an ass tonight, then just go back inside,” he almost laughs, beginning to back away from the towering walls of my house.

“Talking ‘bout yerself, are ya now?” I quip, bringing my phone from my tight pockets, tapping in my passcode.

“I’ve noticed, y’know,” he mumbles, barely loud enough for me to hear him. Looking up from the bright screen, his eyes don’t stray from the road. “There’s a girl, isn’t there? Or there was?” he continues, a man I’ve come to love over the last three years he’s worked with me. And somehow I thought I had fooled him, but it turns out, I haven’t. I can’t even fool myself.

“Sumthin’ like that,” I whisper, my attention straying back to the conversation lit on my screen. Another day of the ball being in her court, and she just leaves it in the bloody corner, neglecting it. “I see why ya wanted me t’ come now . . . jus’ don’ try t’ set me up with yer bloody sista. She’s like twenty.”

His hearty chuckle fills the space around us, the words of a song from Death Cab for Cutie lurking in the background. “I won’t, but y’know she’s not gonna let ya out of her sight, mate. She’s had the hots for you from day one.”

“Oh God, Rore, what’d I let ya drag me into here?” I joke, my lips curling into a nervous smile. But the smile feels good, and it feels even better when her name disappears from my screen, and I forget my phone in my pocket.

“What happened to making me dinner?” I whine from the couch, crossing my left leg over the other under the comfort of my blanket.

“That was when you were busy, and well, the other day when I was feeling generous. Not today, missy,” Skye scoffs, the sound of the fridge shutting marking her words. Something lands in my lap with a plop, startling me.

“Wow, how gourmet. Why thank you, I definitely don’t need to make dinner now,” I joke, picking up the wrapped piece of string cheese.

“I know you’re still going to eat it. Just eat cereal or something, you hobo. I’m going to bed at a decent time, unlike somebody.”

“Hey, it’s a Friday!” I argue, pressing the page down button on the remote, waiting for something to catch my eye on Netflix.

“Yeah, and some of us still have a job on Saturdays!” she calls from her journey down the hall.

“Party pooper!”

She remains silent on the defensive line, and so does the list of boring content on the television screen. Relenting, I click over to My Stuff and press play on the next episode of FRIENDS. Relaxing into the cushions, I unwrap the cheese and slowly eat it in strings. Giggles flow from my lips watching the scene unravel in front of me, and some eye-rolls because of Ross or Monica. After a while, my legs stray to the fridge, and I return to the tan sectional with a bowl of Cheerios. The milk threatens to spill over the side when I sit up suddenly, almost yelping in laughter at the scene when Monica and Rachel lose their apartment to Chandler and Joey. The sugary Cheerios soon disappear, and the milk follows them as the episode nears the end.

Placing my bowl and spoon in the dishwasher, I hurry back to the sofa to catch a Phoebe scene. My cheeks warm with a smile, but they soon grow cold when my thoughts have to interrupt with a memory of his face. That god awfully sweet smile adorned with his cherry lips and precious dimples. Without knowing what I’m doing, the cartoon looking app appears under my nose, and pictures fill my feed. I take a second look at a few of them that catch my attention, the angry voices of Rachel and Monica tickling at my ears.

Soon, the search bar materializes and although it feels wrong, I type in letter after letter to create his name. I can’t remember the last time I glanced at his profile, just to catch a hint of him. Finding the profile I’ve become familiar with, I tap on his picture and wait for his profile to load. Glancing away, the tv captures my attention once more as I scratch at an itch on my leg. Yawning, I rub at my eye before it falls back to the blindingly bright screen. Blinking hard to clear the haze from my vision, I scroll down to see what new pictures he’s posted, although they’re usually few and far between.

I find the most recent picture I recognize and tap through them. Picturesque shots from high in the clouds. His unbelievably adorable niece. Food-grams. A picture of a homemade pizza is making my mouth water and is still stuck in my mind when I happen upon the next photo, and the most recent one. The moisture in my mouth is wicked away, suddenly bone dry when the image in front of my eyes slowly registers with me. But I can’t believe it, even though I’m seeing it. I don’t want to see it, or believe it. The moisture reappears in the corners of my eyes quickly as a sourness quickly knits together in my gut. The image shakes in my hands and then blurs in my eyes, accented by the thrashing of my heart inside of my chest.

“Skye!” I shout, the words leaping from my lips with little success.

My lip wobbles and I feel my entire face collapse from pain, disbelief, the whole shebang. The sob screaming from my lips is muffled by my fingers coming to my mouth.

“No, no, no, no, no,” I mutter, inhaling fast and feeling the tears in my throat. Because I can feel it everywhere in my body - the pain. In my eyes, my stomach, my hands, and my chest. The sight of Harry’s lips touching that of another girl’s sends knives into my heart, and my stomach roiling. “T-this can’t . . . ,” but my words escape me, because the multitudes of feelings punished with anguish and despair course through me.

“Skye!” I yell again, not realizing that I’ve gotten to my feet. I stumble at first, feeling the weakness reach my legs. Her name leaves my lips wet with tears as I run past the kitchen and down the hall.

Pushing open her door, darkness meets my eyes, and I swear in that moment it swallowed me. Hitting me, I grab the doorframe and feel my forehead fall against it. Leaning there for support, the sobs roll through me, the very reason still clutched in my hand.

“Whaaaaat?” she groans tiredly from her bed across the room.

But I only reply with a sob of her name, hiccups havocking my chest. My hands claw at the wall, darkness coating my eyelids.

“Ree?” Skye asks groggily, the click of her lamp following her words. “What happened? Are you alright?” she hurries, the pillowy patting of her covers being thrown back meeting my ears.

Her arms wrapping around me are almost numbing, and do nothing. And feel like nothing. But when I feel my head meet her chest, the slowed-down world I lived in for those few seconds vanishes.

“Skye, I-. . . ,” I attempt, once again falling up short as tears suffocate my voice, much like they’re making me feel. Shakily, I press my phone into her hand as I try to find safety in her arms.

I wait and then am rewarded with her intake of breath followed by a sigh. “Holy fuck,” she whispers, and retaliates by pulling me closer against her. “Come here, Ree.”

She walks me over to her bed and helps me under the covers until I’m surrounded by them, and her arms.

“Who i-is she?” I demand sloppily, searching for something to hold onto and to anchor myself with. I’m compensated with the smooth fabric of her shirt that I cling to the back of, my head falling into her hair. The mundane scent of strawberries wafting from her body tries to relax me, but to no avail.

“Ree-,” she begins, but I don’t let her start, let alone finish.

“I want to kn- I need to know,” I respond, sniffling against the warm expanse of her neck. There’s shuffling next to me before she sighs, and I sense the light of my phone. Tapping prods at my hearing as I try to form coherent thoughts.

I’m met with images of him. Harry. His dark curls, the way his eyes crinkle when he laughs, and the high-pitched giggle that accompanied my tickling as well as his own. The intruding memories rack my body with shaking sobs, pressing my lips together as new tears gush over them. My belly contracts with each sob, and I don’t even register the cramping in my hands from holding on so tightly.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Skye hums warily from above, pulling my head into her neck, leaving her arm there to shield me from her words. Or the image that I can’t remove from my mind even if I tried. It’s burned there indefinitely now.

His arms in a blue button-up surrounding her and his lips enveloping hers. A smile creasing his cheeks with happiness, and spreading to those of her dark cheeks. Her curvy body pressed against his, flowing ebony curls tickling her chocolate skin.

“Tell me.”

“Okay,” Skye caves, the tips of her fingers running marathons along my back, in attempts to calm me down. But I don’t know if the tried and true will work this time, although it has for every other, even when my dad’s life was painted with the C-Word. “She’s a London based artist, does some sculpting and gallery work locally. According to her Instagram account, anyways.”

“I asked . . who is she?” I repeat, my voice wavering under the dominance of the tears.

“Her name’s Bailee Taylor.”

“W-what does her page look . . . like?” I request, exhaustion blanketing me, and only adding another feeling to the rest. Blinking away the tears, I try to take in a deep breath, but my memories hit me with the safety I felt in his arms. Unwaveringly.

“It looks like they’re . . dating,” Skye announces quietly, squeezing me around the middle. The confirmation I didn’t know I’d been searching for hits me like a train, knocking the air out of me again. And all of a sudden, hatred pulses through me, asking me where to lay it. Where to feel it. “There’s a few pictures of them on her feed, looks like they met maybe a few weeks ago.”

“Why?” jumps from my lips finally, taking a nosedive to join a sea of unanswered questions. The word shakes the second it leapt from my tongue, and somehow it hurts more than all of the rest. “I h-hate him,” I cry, my nose smushing against her skin when I try to hold onto her tighter than I already am.

“No, you don’t,” she coos, raking her fingers through my hair slowly, and carefully.

“I know, b-but I wish I could,” I answer, the memories dancing through my head at hyper speed. Falling asleep in his arms, and waking up in them. The tickling fight. The almost kiss. The Scrabble game. Waking up to find him waiting there in the doorway. Him coming back even after the way I treated him. Finding him standing there at the front of the lecture hall. The reprieve of being in his arms again after so long spent away from them. And then, like a wall, my mind runs into the strings of unanswered texts. The canceled lunch dates. The both of us ignoring the other’s texts, but then at the end, it was him. It was him who was awkward during the last phone call. He hung up on me abruptly, and I heard somebody else was there. Was it her? It’s possible they would have already been together by then. He said he’d text me to set up lunch, and he never did.

“It won’t make you feel better,” she murmurs, cupping my head with her palm. The sound of tears edging at her words only makes mine come harder, and the feeling in my gut grows louder.

“Then what will?” I beg, wondering if I’ll ever forget the taste of the salty tears. A taste I thought I could forget just late last month when my dad was cured. News that I told him, and had been impatiently waiting to do all day. “I thought I was just feeling okay again, Skye.”

“I know, Ree, I’m so sorry,” she returns, placing her cheek against mine, the first tear peeking through in her voice. “I’m sorry.”

I unpeel myself from her anxiously, kicking away the blankets before my feet land on the floor.

“Where are you going?” she almost demands, the sound of her following me far away.

“I’m gonna be sick,” I confess, rushing down the hall before falling to my knees in front of the toilet. The Cheerios and milk from earlier make a reappearance, along with the string cheese, and mushy contents of my other meals.

Running a cold cloth along my face, Skye kneels in front of me, her face painted in sadness.

“How can it hurt so much, Skye, when he wasn’t even mine?” I croak, focusing on the lone tile in our bathroom that doesn’t match the rest of the flooring.

“I think you’re wrong, he was yours, Ree.”

“I was so close. I fucked up, again,” I weep, my lips collapsing with yet another sob.

“Don’t say that, don’t,” she insists, tucking her hair behind her studded ear when it goes every which way with the shaking of her head. “You can’t blame yourself for this.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“It feels like it is. She’s so pretty . . Of course she is,” I remember aloud, breathing in quickly before the tears take hold of me once more. Closing my eyes, I reach out for her and let my head rest against her shoulder.

“She really isn’t, Ree. A big pair of tits doesn’t make you pretty, and anyways, you’re far prettier. He could do much better, like you.”

“You’re just saying that,” I confess, trying to swallow, but my throat has tied itself into knots with the thoughts of him. And when that word falls out of bed inside of my head, I find that it can hurt worse. “I was his Becks, Skye, I thought it was right there. That it was gonna happen for us.”

“Oh, Ree,” she cries, sniffling against my hair when she pulls me against her. “I know, I’m so sorry . . so sorry.”

Nodding into her chest, it feels right as her necklace digs into my wet cheek. My jaw aches from clenching my teeth, and so does every other part of my body in some way. Somehow I let her bring me back to her bed, and hide me away in her arms. My head swims with questions, then fleeting hatred for him, and inconsolable longing the very next. I shed a tear for his smell, his contagious smile, that Scrabble game we’ll never finish, the churros I’ll never be able to eat again without him ruining them for me, the color of his eyes I could never forget, and the lost feeling of his lips I never got to kiss. The list miles long of things I never got to say to him, or do with him, or make him feel. Because now she does, and she isn’t me.

“I-I thought . . that he felt the same way about me, and that somehow he knew that I loved him.”

A whimper escapes Skye’s lips as my tears fall into her neck, adding to the puddle I’ve shed there.

“What does she have that I don’t? Am I not interesting? Does she have a nicer body than I do? Am I not pretty enough? Was I not nice enough or appreciative of him?” I weep, the questions flowing off my lips from the recesses of my mind. My name greets my ears firmly, but I ignore it. “I was trying to answer his texts when I could, but things got so busy with uni and my dad. All the driving, the tests in both places, and I couldn’t keep dates right in my head. Maybe if I’d texted him back sooner that one time, or made the lunch date on the right day the first time-.”

“Becky, don’t do the ‘ifs’ thing,” Skye urges, pulling the covers further up our shoulders before returning to combing my hair back again and again.

“But I can’t stop thinking about what went wrong, a-and how much I miss him, Skye. I miss him a hundred times more after seeing that picture,” I reveal, falling into her, my lips meeting her shoulder. My teeth dig into my skin and I let them, numb to the pain as the same word is too busy with my mind. “I don’t know if I ever wanna see him again.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“But I do want to, I’ll always want to. Like something inside of me will always want him.”

The sunlight streaming in through the windows is the first thing I see when I awake. Ducking my head back under the covers, I pull them over me with a groan. The blissful ignorance of the first few minutes after waking up follows me, until it all comes crashing back.

“Are you awake?” a voice murmurs, sleep clinging to it.

“Unfortunately,” I whisper, staring into the muted light underneath the gray covers.

“I can stay home if you want me to, I was just making some breakfast,” Skye responds, the tapping of her feet along the floor following.

“No, don’t cancel your hair appointments because of me. I’ll be . . I’ll be fine,” I tell her, but then the tears greet me good morning.

“Oh, Ree, I’ll cancel and we can watch movies all day, or FRIENDS. Whatever you want,” she announces. The bed falls to one side when she sits on the edge, and I feel her hand find my back.

“Thanks, I was hoping you’d say that,” I return, turning around and sitting up to dive into her arms. “I was hoping I had dreamt it all and it was just a bad dream. But my life is the bad dream.”

“Oh, Ree,” she coos, surrounding me with her arms. “I know this is cliche and it doesn’t feel like it, but it’ll get better.”

“I don’t know about that. My life is a running joke lately because it feels like it’ll get better, and then it just gets worse.”

“Your birthday is coming up, isn’t it, Becky?” somebody asks. Looking up from my cupcake, I find the face of Sophie.

“Yeah, end of next week,” I answer, picking an orange sprinkle from the white frosting to eat.

“Do you have any big plans?” my boss asks as she places her lunch in the microwave.

“My brother and I hang out every year, we’re twins.”

“Oh, how fun! I remember meeting him once when he brought you lunch one day,” she smiles, turning to face me as she waits in front of the humming microwave.

I just nod and dip my finger into the frosting, feeling it melt on my tongue a second later.

“Everything alright, love?”

“Yep, just tired is all,” I fib, taking a bite of the carrot cupcake, although I’m not wrong when I think about it. Skye has been a lifesaver for the last two weeks helping me get back on my feet. Thinking back on it and all of the tears leaves a funny taste in my mouth, but I try to brush it away with a forced smile.

“How old will you be this year, Becky?” Sophie asks, pulling out a rolling chair to sit to my right at the long table.

“Good old 26.”

“Wow, still a spring chicken, I’d say,” she comments, bringing a quirky smile to my lips. I almost follow her laugh with mine. “Well you know what, an early birthday present from me is you can have the rest of the day off. You always do a great job, Becky, and so you deserve it.”

“Sophie, I-,” I begin, my jaw falling to the floor.

“I mean it, go. Get out of here. Go do something that makes you happy, love, it looks like you need to,” she smiles, squeezing my arm from across the table. Standing to my feet, profuse ‘thank yous’ leave my lips before I leave the break room.

I drive around with my windows down, unsure of where to go instead of home. Before I know it, I find myself walking into my favorite little coffee shop. I’ve always loved to hang out here with a cup, reading a book, doing homework, or just relaxing on one of their sofas.

Soon, I sit down with a Cubano sandwich and an iced cinnamon roll coffee, my very favorite. Pulling a book out of my work bag, I crack it open to the first page, unable to remember when I last had the time to read a book for fun. The words of Ruth Ware stare back at me, slowly drawing me into a made-up world, and away from the desolate one trying to swallow me.

Quickly, I’m grateful for the respite from the thoughts mucking up my mind. Instead I lose myself in the sentences that spin a scary story, thanking my old self for stashing something besides a romance in my bag. That’s the last thing I could even think about indulging in right now. For some reason, the mystery entices me, a genre I’ve always had a love for. I think, especially now, it’s the aspect of being able to solve a mystery, and to fix a problem. If only I could do that now, I wish silently with a spiteful snort.

Placing my empty plate on the return area by the cash register, I return to my cozy spot on the couch and to my book. Losing my fingers in my hair, I prop my head up and open the book to where I had left off. Soft indie music trickles from the speakers as conversations float around me. Several more sofas are dotted around the large room and booths, as well as tables varying in sizes. Friends play board games borrowed from the shelf by the fireplace, and others do schoolwork or actual work. A laugh from behind the counter echos through the room, right as the bell on the front door jingles. Although across the room, I can hear the voices floating in from the sidewalk. Cars honking and birds chirping. The sounds make me itch to leave the air-conditioned room, and bring my reading outside into the June sunshine.

The words covering the pages root me to the spot, but they can’t protect me from what I hear. It’s a voice that I know inside and out, from the shortened words to the often used words. My vocal cords soon begin to tangle into knots in my throat at the mere noise. Beneath my baby blue blouse, there’s a clobbering in my chest as the voice grows near and then stops. Instinctively, hair falls through my fingers as I lower my head, wishing to remain unseen. Unknown.

I can’t stop myself, and there I am looking up to see that crinkly-eyed smile through wrenching tears.

Harry.

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spadesinglasses · 4 years

Text

Love Victor (series)

oooh new format for this post let’s get into itttt.

Below are my reaction per episode. I will be writing them as i finish each so its more clear and fresh and all that jazz.

Let’s see if tumblr posts has a word count limit.

lol wrong title earlier X_X

Note, the #glassthoughts tags is a reaction tag. Its never a review, or an intellectual essay about stuff I watch. I dont have the capacity to do all those.

Spoilers below so beware. Episode 1 is posted separately because I intend to make posts for the first and last epsiode only but that did not work out lol.

EPISODE 2

it took me a looong time to finish this episode. I kept on pausing it because something just feels so wrong about it. I didn’t know what it was when i was going through it, but when it finally ended it finally clicked.

The episode reminds me of the sentiment most homophobes use against gay people. “If you focus on the emotional part of the relationship, you will be happy with the opposite sex.” Growing up ive heard this phrase used against other people so much. Hearing it in my native language has always been a punch in the gut.

And now this show who is supposed to be something happy and nice, is just having this kind of phrase of mentality just well up there.

I’m sure that its not Victor’s and that he is just exploring his sexuality. But the usual tinge of homophobia whenever he talks that he might be like Simon is honestly grating.

It’s definitely a me issue because other people seem to be enjoying the series immensely, but whenever Victor gets into that headspace, I just hear my child self crying myself to sleep because of internal homophobia.

Also i can see why people say that for a show that is supposed be about Victor’s sexuality and growth, it does sure show a heck lot of heterosexuality of those who are around him.

Maybe in the future i will rewatch the series again with a more patient mind, but for now, expect me to skip a lot of scenes X_X

End

Episode 3

Okay the audacity of Victor saying “he tries” to be a good friend. Like dang okay chill with the lies. You’re already lying about your sexuality lmao.

Sorry im being very critical and bitter about this show, but i must persevere for the fanfics and fanarts i will gorge myself into later.

anywho reaction time!

Mia and Victor would’ve been cute if only Victor doesn’t sound like he keeps on enforcing this compulsory heterosexuality he has in mind. BUT hey he might be Bi people!

I keep censoring myself because of how bitter and hateful i sound. My apologies for the phrases i forgot to delete above and beyond this line xD.

Anyways im over anything about Andrew. He can go fuck his egotistical self. If the series will show

Hmm i wonder if the term “Comp Het” will even drop in this series.

Back to reaction,

Honestly Felix is just a lesbian in a man’s body at this point. Making his own shampoo? Like wow give me some of that kind of friend.

The number of times I rolled my eyes at Andrew is ridiculous.

Whilst typing this part it was more enforced in my mind that Love Victor is just a “supposedly gayer” Teen Wolf without the wolfing parts.

Lake is Lydia Felix is Stiles Andrew is a walmart Jackson Benji is basically a less grumpy Derek or Danny tbh Victor is Scott

I really hate this idea now.

The parents drama! Honestly, very unnecessary in my opinion. Victor is already dealing with a religious family, now he has to deal with a religious and broken family? Like dang they could’ve just chosen one struggle for him, now everyone will think his sexuality is a consequence for his parents’ sin or sth.

Maybe it’ll play into a bigger plot twist in the future?

Maybe Victor’s mom is cheating with Mia’s father? Seeing as how there was an unnecessary shot of her father with the back of a woman facing on the camera which is weird but okay.

Im theorizing now X_X

Anyways have y’all seen how poor Felix was so nervous because his goddamn friend isn’t there to supposedly help him?

Sorry im hating on Victor too much but this scene reminds me of how awful Simon’s friends are and like bruuuh is Felix supposed to be the lead character?

He really is like Stiles who is supposed to be the lead for Teen Wolf in my opinion, he’s just a much better written character that Sc/tt

lmao sorry my issues with other series is bleeding into this one X_X

End

Episode 4

Not much to say without getting too salty so moving onnn.

End

Episode 5

This series is just showing all the fear and pain i went through and am going through back when I was a teenager and til now. Without getting into any personal stuff, that last bs Victor’s father spewed just hit me so much.

I guess one of the reasons why its hard for me to watch Love Victor is because it shows me the teenager side of me way back when. Minus the girlfriend one because i never really persevered that much to tamper any likes for men. Internal homophobia really hit me back then tho xD

End

Episode 6

This episode is a mess and I hate it.

We saw yet again Victor literally using Felix’s ignorance and naivety to get himself out of a situation he put himself into.

AND Felix even got the wrong idea or got fed with the wrong idea that the reason why Victor brought him along is to act as a buffer because he wasn’t ready to give up being a virgin or have sex in general. Yep that is definitely the reason, no other reason at all that involves making latte art with a known barista.

Lake and Felix kissed so there was that. I still am shipping Victor and Felix together despite Victor’s continuous bs with him being a good friend, but that’s just me.

And totally knew Andrew and Mia got a thing. If this blew up and hurt Lake im suing.

Lake and Felix are literally the two people keeping this show intact. Not gonna drop some political statement here no sir.

Again Benji needs to grow a personality out of this whole barista thing. One thing i am grateful for this show is that there was no family drama at all!

I think.

End

Episode 7

UGHHH MISS ME WITH THAT NORMAL TALK.

Ive been making a conscious effort to stop saying that heterosexuality is normal. That shit is hard to unlearn because its what ive always heard in my asian household for yeaaaaaaars. And now this twink is just gonna throw the term around like he has no issues with it. TO SIMON EVEN.

Like brooooooh. Im over my 2010 internal homophobia, no need to dig it all up again. Every episode.

Aww the dancing in different clothes is cute but,

FUCKING VICTOR LIED JUST FOR WHAT?

Homeboy be doing the most to keep his fucking sexuality from bursting out, with his foot both planted firmly inside the closer AND THEN THE NEXT SECOND would end up as if he is ready to risk it all just to see Benji naked.

I AM FUCKING livid, confused, and just intense emotion everywhere.

Ive seen a couple of dumbo scenes from other shows that got the “closeted” man be doing literally the most obvious shit that could make anyone catch them, BUT THIS, with how VEHEMENT Victor is against being “NOT NORMAL” AND THEN LIE JUST TO STAY IN A MOTEL WITH THE GLORIFIED HOT GUY, takes the goddamn cake.

The fucking hypocrisy man. Ive battled internal homophobia before, AND ACKNOWLEDGE THAT WE ALL DEAL WITH IT DIFFERENTLY but holy fucksticks. I’m not this evil.

The thing is, there is so much a person could do that you could go “ah its because they are in the closet and is afraid to come out” before it goes to the territory of “fucking hell, this is not just about his sexuality, this is just him now doing stuff consciously to take advantage of his supposed fear”. The girlfriend thing is even waaay over the top, but we all went with it because he’s supposed to be figuring things out. BUT most of the time, he literally could not even imagine going beyond the line HE CREATED for their relationship. AND YOU’RE TELLING ME THAT HE WILL LIE JUST TO SPEND THE NIGHT WITH A GUY? Now he wants to test the male side of his sexuality? BECAUSE PORN DOESN’T EXIST? BECAUSE LOOKING AT MALE UNDERWEAR MODELS IN THE UNDERWEAR SECTION IS NOT ENOUGH? HE NEEDS IT TO BE ACTUALLY PHYSICAL TO CONFIRM SOMETHING?

Im ahead too much, real time the scene im in the episode is still them about to leave the shop but holy fucking hell. If this lie ended up becoming something more in this same episode, expect more capslock because jfc.

And people will still claim he’s somewhat attracted to the other gender.

AND SOMETHING DID HAPPENED. ANDREW AND MIA KISSED

FUCKIN VICTOR

Also i was very very worried that Pilar and Felix will be a thing BUT THANK GOD THAT DIDN’T BECOME A THING. Still unsure whether i like Lake and Felix together, but i love them individually.

I cant really comment on any of the parents drama because to be honest i skip them whenever its just her and him.

These two fuckers lie to one another. BECAUSE OF WHAT? THEY WANT TO FUCKIN STICK THEIR TONGUES INTO ONE ANOTHERS MOUTH? IS THIS REALLY WHERE THIS SHOW IS GOING? AND THEY ALMOST CENSORED IT BECAUSE ITS GAY? NOT THE OTHER HORRIBLE STUFF THAT IS HAPPENING?

Im tired.

But i hafta finish the show for fanarts and fanfics.

okay Benji has a legitimate reason for lying. I’ll take that.

See people you see me live writing this whole rant thing :D.

BOY TOOK MONTHS KISSING MIA FOR MIA TO ONLY SAY THEIR TONGUES GRAZE SOMETIMES.

bUT THE SAME GUY JUST WENT LAPLAPAN TO THE MAX WITH BENJI THE ONE NIGHT THEY SPENT TOGETHER?

REALLY PEOPLE? REALLY?

Huh I wonder back when I was his age, would I also just kiss the first gay guy i became comfortable with? Despite being so into the closet and battling internal homophobia via punching the walls?

Dang that monologue tho. We as non het doesn’t want our lives to be hard. But at this point, i stopped blaiming my own sexuality and just started blaming heterosexuals for making the world this fucking horrible for us. That’s when my internal homophobia SLOWLY lessen. It’s still there but hey at least every crosshair is not on me.

Okay i get people saying that Simon is irresponsible for making Victor like put his family on the back burner for a bit etc etc. Also the reaction against Benji getting mad when Victor wanted them to stop being gay while in their house, is reasonable. Victor did calmly told Benji and his beau that his family is stretched thin etc etc. I get that. I get that sometimes hiding your sexuality for other people is what is necessary.

BUT fucking please recognize how damaging that is to the person you are talking to. Even if you think Victor is in the 100% right about this, AT THE VERY LEAST acknowledge why Benji is mad. Sure he could’ve just left with his boyfriend instead of just staying there. And sure Victor pulled through in the end and put that dusty grandpa motherfucker to his place, but that’ll fucking sting okay.

Also i might be saying all this in a place where I’m not really that close to ANY of my relatives, so ya know, call me ignorant or ungrateful whatever.

END

Episode 8

Okay uhh Mia and Andrew is still a thing APPARENTLY.

AWW BRAM IS CUTE

Lol Simon’s “Yay boobs” like please Victor keep the heterosexual drama out of this chatroom lmao.

Also Felix group texting the others is hilarioussss.

If Victor touches or says one bad thing at Bram? its on sight.

Also Im not sure what to feel with Mia getting jealous at Andrew. Like girl you were the one who said he’s nothing, and now this? Issa bad look honey.

Victor is embarassing. Are all extroverts just this i dunno peppy?

You know what makes me happy in this episode? Keiynan’s attitude bleeding out to Bram’s character. I love it!

Goddd Keiynan is so hot XD

hahahaha this episode is lighter thank god.

“why would they want to help a complete stranger” because they are good people and surprisingly they still exist!��

Ohhh So it seems like Nick Robinson filmed his scenes for this episode on a different day. Ive never seen him be with the main group. That’s weird.

END

Episode 9

Benji distancing himself because he wants to make his 1 year relationship work? Good guy! Him not saying to his boyfriend about the coworker of his kissing him? Bad move.

Sure we can all talk about how little stuff doesn’t need to be told to your lover if you’re sure its not gonna happen again. The thing is, communication is key. Y’all will talk about communication being integral in a relationship but keep shit like this in the DL because yOU’RE JUST THAT SURE IT AINT GONNA HAPPEN AGAIN? Fo real?

Also Benji is feeling guilty for a reason.

Vincent is very in the wrong for kissing a taken man just because said taken man is comfortable with him or showed vulnerability. Victor is in the wrong 100% and I’ll never forget that.

Felix and that hug with Victor is adorableeee. Love that coming out scene. Again raising my eyebrows at those who say Victor is Bi.

Felix showing what’s in his apartment is fucking great. No wonder we don’t see his mom or anything. They say that the saddest people are always the one who will do their best to keep everyone happy. Felix is being peppy, have these random phrases he use to just amuse people makes sense.

In this household, we protect Felix no matter what. HOPEFULLY next season we get to fucking know his surname or sth.

Again nothing new with the drama surrounding the parents. I hate them and honestly i am so annoyed by the father’s face and everything. (still have that hatred from One day at time but we don’t talk about that here)

The letter is stupid and i wonder what Pilar will do about it. Are we gonna get a To All the boys i loved before thing?

OH Felix giving Lake an ultimatum. Wow what a move honestly. On one hand Felix has the right to protect himself. He wants to be free with who he loves, and keeping it a secret stopped being amusing because he knew what it feels like to hide a part of yourself.

Lake’s confidence has been obviously shot and damaged by her mother. Not saying that justifies what she is doing BUT it came from somewhere. A night with Felix talking to her about his life IS NOT going to just uproot all those thoughts from her mind. As much as i love Felix, he is not a solution.

hmm what else. The father can go die for all i care. Lmao.

END

Episode 10

OH I THOUGHT PILAR KNOWS NOW BUT NOOOO

OH NOOO O NO NO NOOO

AND ANDREW STIRRING SHIT UP NOOOOOO

PILAR STOOOOP

NOO NOT PUBLICLY

OMFG

I CANNOT.

Also i cannot get over Andrew’s actor looking like Stromae. They have the same eyes, eyebrows and expressions X_X

THIS IS WHY WE DONT KEEP SHIT BEFORE A PUBLIC EVENT. IT ALWAYS EXPLODES ON A PUBLIC EVENT.

YOU BET YOUR ass i skipped the whole confrontation scene. I’ll go back to it maybe or just look at gifs but nope. My cancer rising and moon can’t handle that shit.

Is ... is Mia going to see Victor and Benji together and then theorize? Because god freaking damnit im tired of that plot twist.

Oh Benji. Honey honey honey please don’t do whatever I think you’re about to do.

FUCKING NEW IT. CALLED IT. CALLED ITITTTT MIA FUCKIGN SAW I HATE VERYTHING.

....

wait the way the ending was shot is weird. The cliffhanger is weird. Everything is weird.

ILL MAKE A HUNCH that it was actually just Victor in his dream land thinking that coming out is that easy and that you just blurt it out.

Bet you the next season will start with no body but Felix and Mia and Andrew know about his sexuality.

The shot was too much on Victor. There was no sound cue from the family etc etc. I hate the ending so much. Love Victor could’ve been so much more. Could’ve pioneered a fresh way to show lgbt stories and how coming out is this and that. Even if the show is for Gen Z and this generation, coming out should reflect to how coming out is generally perceived nowadays. But i guess that was too much. Foolish me for having my expectations waay too high.

The End

#Glass thoughts #love victor #love victor spoilers #this exhausted #me

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strawberryybird · 4 years

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Me sees the character songs post, immediately wants to know what character songs you have for the characters and why.

ok so. welcome to the rabbit hole that is my music taste and what is my no.1 most frequently done activity.. plastering emotions i have for fictional characters all over my music taste. I restricted myself to ¾ songs for each character & then to Edie, Hubert, Dorothea, Lysithea & Byleth because otherwise we’d be here all day (and those are the Primary Daydream Candidates rn)

under a rm because as im sure we’ve all seen.. i just don’t fucking stop.. also i got weirdly deep about some of these topics. i don’t know how to tag it. tread careful?

Here are some songs.. welcome to my (notoriously bad) music taste. alsoi go in Very heavy handed about it all. i make only a few apologies:

Edelgard:Everybody wants to rule the word - tears for fears. (ucan go with Lorde’s cover but i prefer the original bc im like that.) i meanit’s pretty heavy handed but it’s such an Edelgard song it !!!! fuels my ficwriting. if it’s not so very Edelgard’s relationship with twsitd then idk whatto tell you. plus it’s an iconic song

Medicine - daughter. (daughter is My Favourite Band. Ever. I cannot articulate how much ilove their (and ex:re’s) music!!) anway. this is a hegegard song & i don’ttake constructive criticism. I’ll reiterate this better in other descriptions,but please don’t take my inclusion of a song about such a topic as adevaluation of it in any way, that’s not my intention. The reason I go so feralfor Hegegard is because im no stranger to watching someone you care about hurt themselvesin a way you can’t stop, and that’s what the AM ending evokes in me. Hence: asong I love that one can read the same story in. And then the lyrics ‘You couldstill be / What you want to / What you said you were / When I met you” just !! parallelsEdge of Dawn’s lyrics about regret & overall I’m very feral about this.

(Don’t Fear) The Reaper - blue oystercult. this is PRIME Edelgard telling freshly-awokenbyleth she’s been waging war for 5 years. also !!!! “Seasonsdon’t fear the reaper / Nor do the wind, the sun or the rain, we can be likethey are” >>> “The Edge of Dawn (Seasons ofWarfare) (フレスベルグの少女～風花雪月～,lit. Girl of Hresvelg ~Wind, Flower, Snow, Moon~)” .. the link is tenuous but coincidence?? is it, fuck.

Seneca - Novo Amor. this is another one of those songs that could mean something different to everyone. very easy to project onto, is novo amor. I like the story of being prepared to run and break ties at any given moment, but ending up - emotionally or physically - in the same place one always was. apart from the glaring tie of how Edelgard returned to garreg mach, this song is a lot of me trying to repatriate Edelgard’s lack of emotional arc in the game by saying . well. this song.

You can call me Al - paul simon. am i projecting edeleth thoughts onto my favourite song? it’s morelikely than you think!!! but also i like the chorus and all the exasperating ‘call me el’jokes i can make.. i may be half writing a fic based on this song.

Dorothea:Agnes - glass animals. so i have significant emotions about edelthea at the best of times !! and this song !!! really bloody hits it home !! yes I knowit’s got a really heavy and real subject matter and I’m not trying to devalueit or minimise it.. but the story - about watching someone close to you hurtthemselves/get hurt, and doing so in ways you can’t stop them from - is adamn real one. And a Lot of why I love Dorothea’s character in the gamebecause she’s the one who can’t stop her friends from getting hurt – through exposureto warfare .. or stopping Edelgard becomingthe monster at the end of the story. Even though she’s one of the healers onthe beagle’s team. And I feel that.

Ex’s and Oh’s – Elle King. So you know that one spn fanvid featuringthis song about all of dean winchester’s relationships? That, but for my flirting Queen Dorothea Arnault. (and I have the dumbest most fun little headcanon thatonce Dorothea and Sylvain derailed a lgbt+ society meeting whilst Edie wastrying to go over the budget by blasting this song and dancing on the table.The idea makes me laugh)

Hold My Girl – George Ezra. The whole thing about wanting just that onemoment to cherish the people you love for one moment more before you have goout face the world? If that’s not the timeskip’d Dorothea Arnault Aesthetic, Idon’t know what is.

(Call Me Out – sea girls. On a much lighter note, this song is fueling the later half of mydrafts of road trip au. And it’s literally because of that one verse. im gayshut up.)

Hubert:Red Right Hand – nick cave and the bad seeds. Is it on the nose? Is itheavy handed? Oh u fuckin bet but that won’t stop me!!! A) it’s a good song. ItIs. B) I like narrative songs. C) Any ‘red right hand’ symbolism in Anycharacter has me love them immediately and also plonk this song in the middleof any playlist about them. sure, the artic monkeys version might be a bit more on hubert’s brand.. but my mileage varies about it lmao

I had fortress by bear’s den earmarked for Hubie, as I think it’s easilyread about boundaries and a one sided intense relationship & that’s! Hubiebaybee! But I can’t possibly cover unhealthy relationships without shoving thealbum Hospice by The Antlers into every which way of it. It’s by no meansdirectly translatable to Edelgard and hubert’s relationship and it’s arguable ifI should even mention it in the same sentence as a bloody fictional character… that beingsaid, I’ve been having emotions about:Shiva – the antlers. This song specifically reads to me to be a really goodarticulation of my own thoughts about Hubert’s perspective of Edie getting experimentedon. heavy but damn. I like that. I just see a lot of what their teen years togethermust have been like in Shiva.

Time – Pink Floyd. Ok so.. it’s like Hubert in parallel bc I think thissong is a lot about searching for a purpose/reason or a quote unquote bloodyred path in life. And I may have been listening to it when I watched Hubert/DorotheaA support & now it’s just permanently associated with it bc it complementedit so well. And I like it. So . it stays. It’s very much a beagles song to meas well.

Lysithea:The Beautiful Dream – George Ezra. Ok so I read this Edelysithea ficwith this on repeat bc the title reminded me of it, and then I stuck it onrepeat because it worked too well and now.. im crying.. and i like the inflection of Lysithea’s bitterness over the titular lyric. (but also, it remains one of my steadfast edeleth songs.. sorry lys)

Secrets (Cellar Door) – Radical Face. Another Edelgard&/Lysitheasong!! I really like their relationship ok. And given the song itself can beread straight or an allegory for whatever you particularly want, but the storyis just too on the nose for me not to mention it here.(also general advocation of listening to the whole of radical face’s musicbecause I’ve loved it for years now & the work is beautiful.) (also it’swonderful for fe awakening projection. Or ur own.)

Oh Children – nick cave and the bad seeds. there’s a million different interpretations of this song, but to try nail a few onto Lysithea.. there’s the harry potter use of making/finding a light in the depths of tragedy & i love that for Lys. there’s the whole ‘the kids aren’t alright’ theme and it’s various depths. and i like narrative lyrics to plaster my large fictional-character-caused-emotions onto, so make of this one what you will.

Marianne (and Lysithea too if you like)Bad Blood – Radical Face. Ok so. This is one of my favourite songs in bloodyexistence, and it’s so loaded with meaning & it has a metric tonne of it. Icould wax lyrical about how much I love Radical Face’s work. I don’t want myinclusion of this song (specifically this one) to in any way devalue it. Butmusic is ofc incredibly subjective, and so is my reading of a lot of threehouses – in case it’s not bloody obvious by now. There’s a Lot of stories onecould take from Marianne’s character (and none of them are More Valid^tm thanany other), and I do see a very personal story in her – as I do in this song. Hgghhghive just spent 10 minutes trying to find an impersonal way to talk about twovery personal and relative stories, which naturally doesn’t work. That, and theway I read her story is Real Fucking Dicey for tumblr.com. so if this song is about accepting rejection because of parts of yourself so deep they’re in your blood, i think.. y’all can see.. where my neurodivergent gay self is going with this..

Byleth:Something to Believe In – Tom Walker. Yeah. You’re bloody welcome. If this isn’ta completely on the nose Byleth song, I’ll eat Dorothea’s hat.

Don’t Let the Man – Fatboy Slim. ~ And the sign said green-hairedpartially possessed emotionally void mercenaries need not apply for aprofessorship at the country’s most prestigious academic centre… ~

Emigrate - Novo Amor. this just fucking Got Me in the ‘actively choosing crimson flower’ feelings. im an emotional wreak but its aight. the lyrics just matched up too well for me to let it go !!!

Alps - Novo Amor. this hit me in the ‘i miss the gremlin child sothis’ feelings one day and now it’s permanently stuck that way.

Make Them Gold – chvrches. (this is very much associated with awakening’sfuture past kids and also the Carmilla series in my mind But!!) I love a story about‘if we’re all falling, we’re going down together’ and the magical power of teamwork, and how it brings out the best in people.. & that’s what this song& Byleth kinda bloody stand for ya know??

woooh.. oh my god . i need another cup of tea.

#ask #birb says what //#fe meta #that tag's just for kicks and so i can find this again #oh my god i just don't shut up sometimes #but oh my god that was fun #easiest way to get me into a mouse trap or something is to tell me to make a character playlist i s2g #anyway. thank you for the ask!!!#apologies for the brick wall of text!!!#hope someone out there found at least one part of this they liked that'd be rad #but like. i do this shit for ME lmao #kalinary

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hollandroos · 5 years

Note

im so happy you're writing for koh!tom💞 okay okay, so i wanted to request something where the reader has been in a hell for a while now and she's grown close to tom but then he starts to interact more with a female demon and it makes her insecure because the demon is gorgeous. and her last straw would be at a ball he's hosting and she tried to dress up for him and he completely ignores her which upsets her loads and makes her more insecure. can it end in some fluff? ilysm and thank you!! 😍❤

This is 1.6k words long Im-

You felt really pretty that night.

And maybe somewhere deep down you’d dressed up for yourself– to make yourself feel good and pretty and nice and all those things. But as stupid as it sounded, you knew that you dressed for him, to make him focus all his attention on you.

You strutt into the palace ballroom with your plush, white wings full on display. They were the ones Tom claimed to love so much, the same ones he swore he could spend hours running course fingers through. They were the only white ones, purely because you were the only angel– a fallen one. You weren’t good enough to stay in heaven but not bad enough to wear the dark shade.

‘They’re the prettiest fucking wings in all of hell,’ He’d mutter. ‘Nothing can compare.’

It didn’t work.

You felt like a goddamn queen, a white rose in a field of red and the dress you wore showed off more then what would’ve been allowed in heaven. You knew you looked good, it didn’t take a genius but that nerve wracking feeling in the pit of your stomach was already full go.

But maybe it started when you had to step into the ballroom by yourself instead of with one of his arms around your waist, his black wings brushing softly against your exposed back. Or maybe it was when you took those first few steps into the ball room only to be met with the jet black eyes filled with nothing but anger and a hidden desire.

None of which were your boyfriends.

You still felt anxious towards demons that weren’t Tom. But not tonight. Tonight your eyes were dead set on Tom, growing with even more anticipation by the second.

Look at me, you wanted to shout, notice me, I dressed up for you.

He didn’t look up from his glass of red wine and you didn’t let your anticipation or need die. There was a fire burning in the pit of your stomach, growing with every smile that etched itself onto his lips and following every drop of crimson red that stained his lips.

You just wanted his attention back for one second, to feel an arm around you or lips against yours– and not in a rough, rushed way. You wanted to feel him love you. You wanted your fears to leave for a moment, for them to simply disperse.

Everyone seemed to be staring at you but Tom and the two girls he was standing with. Their gazes remain on him, boring holes into his crisp white shirt, the top two buttons already undone but you remembered that he left your bedroom like that. You did that, you popped them undone between heavy kisses and riskay hand placements.

One of the girls you recognised from the day before. She was utterly gorgeous and someone you found Tom had been seen around once or twice lately.

You snatch a glass of wine off of one of the trays, muttering a thank you beneath your breath as you go straight in for a heavy mouthful. The next thing you go for is your boyfriend standing staunchly in the very corner of the room, his black wings expanding over your head and brown curls slicked back.

“Tom?” Your voice sounded sickly sweet over the music, words dripping like honey and he responded roughly– words striking like venom but when did they not?

“Darling? Oh, you made it.” He smiles, stepping away for a brief second.

The girls send you a scowl. You don’t give them the attention they so desperately want.

One of his hands snake around your waist, his warm lips going to your temple and you smile, rosy red lips curling up. “I did, I actually got here a few minutes ago.”

“Really? I didn’t see you come down?” He remarks. You resist the urge to make a sarcastic comment just yet because he probably didn’t realise what he’d been doing– that for the last three days he’d made you feel unimportant, made you worry that you were losing his loving gaze and actually threatened by a demon.

“What do you think of my dress?” You force a smile and do a little twirl, the end curling around your heels.

“Looks good.” Then he turns back to the girls. “So, what was I saying…”

You drown out his voice.

‘Looks good’

You were used to him telling you that you looked stunning, show stopping, ravishing, perfect beyond words. Good was still a complaint but it was one that you weren’t sure meant a lot from him.

Suddenly you began worrying that the middle was tugging at your waist too much and the lace sleeves were ripped in one place or another and the end was too long– maybe too short and too much of your heels were exposed.

You had gone from feeling sexy to suffocated, graceful to anxious that this was all too much.

So you tear his arm away from you, forgetting about the fact that only moments ago you were craving his physical touch and spin around on your heels. If you hadn’t of had so much practice in them since leaving heaven then you would’ve fallen– most likely taking a waitress or two down with you and that really would’ve been the icing on the top of the cake.

Tom knew he messed up the second he said those two words but was too egoistic to admit he. He would have drowned you in love and meaningful words. You were spectacular, sweet, utterly sinful.

And if you were alone he would’ve kissed down your neck, lips leaving a trail down your shoulder. The king would have climbed onto his knees for you, choked on his own words to show you in other ways what he thought of you in that dress but he didn’t know what was wrong with him.

“Sweetheart–”

He watches you clamber away, clenched hands folded in front of you as you gently shove past a crowd of demons. None of them dares to stop you and Tom follows behind, somehow

“Y/N, C’mon.” He practically begs, yeah, begs.

“What do you want?” You snap, just wanting to climb into your shared bed in a t-shirt and sweats– only Tom wouldn’t be in it and you’d take comfort in petting the man’s hellhound. You wanted to get rid of the makeup and the fancy hair clips and jewelry–

“Why don’t you tell me what it is that you want?” He watches your face remain the same, your teeth remain clenched and eyes hardened. “You look gorgeous in that dress, you do yeah?” His hands run down your waist but you don’t make any mores to stop him– nor spur him on. “You look amazing in anything.”

You push your lips into an angry pout, crossing your arms across your chest. By now you were in one of the many halls surrounded by paintings instead of demons. “I just wanted to get your attention.”

Music pounded through the walls.

“You’ve definitely got it–”

“No, I didn’t until I stormed out of there looking like smoke was about to come out of my ears.” You meet his normal, coffee brown eyes and let your face soften slightly. But you weren’t about to let him off the hook. “You’ve barely given me any attention for days and I’m at the point where I feel like I need to fight for it because you’re always busy or paying attention to what’s her face in there… I feel like I have to dress up like this to get your attention and even then it clearly doesn’t work. You haven’t taken the time to kiss me like you actually love me or make love to me in a week or so–”

The back of your throat burned but you didn’t notice that, because all you could focus on was the fact that he was mere inches away from you and your back was pressed up against the wall and it was intimate and you were alone.

“My love, look at me.” Tom takes your chin in his hand gently, bringing his lips to yours the second you met his eyes. His lips were warm, lightly chapped but still gentle against your own. The wine he’d been drinking stained his lips. It was careful, loving, and you feel yourself go limp against him, body instantly moulding against his own. “You’re everything, you hear me? Everything and more. You’re on my mind every second of the day, your voice plays in my head when I’m alone

“C’mon, Tom, I know you’re the king of hell and you’re all high and mighty but I… I need you.” You feel your voice break as his fingers softly caress your cheek, then over your bottom lip.

“And I need you too.” His voice is hoarse and raspy. “I need you in times like this to snap me out of it when I’m being an absolute dick. It sounds sappy but I need you too.”

You bite your bottom lip, tasting the bitter remains of the alcohol. “You hate being sappy.”

He notices the laugh you’re trying to suppress and smiles. “But it’s you, you make me sappy and I– I love it. I’m still learning how to do this entire relationship and sometimes I mess up and that’s no excuse to hurt you so call me out on my bullshit all you want, knock me down and tell me to wake up. I’m bettering myself for you.”

Only adding tags because this is a long one: @cosmetologynerd @holland-ish @smexylemony @thewiseandfree @zendayacolemen @dej-okay @hollandsletters @ive-got-some-lies-to-tell @liz-gayllen @marvelismylifffe @lovelyh0lland @tomhollandandmarvelsworld @woah-jess @southsidefandoms @justannothermonday @its-claire-louise @sophiatomlinson23 @mockingjaygirl1221 @joyfullyjenny @damnhisfaceisliketheskyatnight @bride-of-loki-odinson @in-the-corner-coffee-please @futuremrsb-r-main @spideyyypeter @saturn-aka-six @c0prolalia @buckykinz @ashtonsbandannas @dennasaur @amyyleblanc1999 @fnosidam @randomfangirl1701@maybeandperhaps @acciorinn @marvel-language @micki-smiles @justmesadgirl @converseskyline @niall2017 @gavemylifetotomholland @tomuchmarvel @leslieandjensen @painted-soulss @practicallylivesonline @mischiefmanaged49 @its-the-unknownspidey @holyrose96 @for-my-mind @mlxbm @erindillon11 @captainbuckyy @shawnandhisroses @converseskyline @smitten0-0kitten @parkeroos @whileinparis @unicornio-vomita-mierdas @draqcnheartstrinq @rainyboo-posts @mikalaka @petxrpxrker @tony-starks-ego @thedaydreamingwriter @peter-quackson @kateelyse96 @lesbian-jesus-jr @wheresmyquill @elyshugh @hollanderheart @tomshufflepuff @marvelismylifffe @tomsh0lland @obsessed-fandoms @girl-in-the-chair @trashqueenbitch @dramatic-and-young @honey-honey-5644 @parkerluvs @chingonaconcha @captainbuckyy @jes-sica1 @tomsfireheart @Rainbow-marvel @spideysimpossiblegirl @spideys-gurl @thomasstanley-holland @mlxbm @ixchel-9275 @parkerssweb @peter-parkersbb @tom-hollands-eyelash @starlightfound @vldlvj @paradoxparker @lustfulcry @mlxbm @musiclover1263 @justatheatredork @peterparkerscamera @fandomnerdsarecool @thequeensardine @cutesy-angst @httplayer @mischiefmanaged49 @loca-lola @softboyparkerr @desir-ae @dangerousluv1 @t-hotland @laucontrerasv @peter-parkersbb @whatdafricklefrackle @thatblondebelgiangirl @fairydustparker @they-call-me-le @jamiemac26 @nephalem67 @underoos-tom @quaxon-holland @lovelyspidey @no-shxt-sherl @xlatinaaxx @starlightfound @mikexpeter @moonandstars-xo @httpmcrvel @evelyn120700 @fromheroestodust @hollandfieldblurbs @ghostlypandacolorpersona @spazclaiire @curlyhairedparker @josierosie @unicornio-vomita-mierdas @icondy @euphoricholland @desir-ae @lovelyspidey @thelazypangolin @ameeravioli @ramen-tically @mellifluous-tom @mrs-webslinger @krazykiara @scottyisthatyou

#tom holland #sophs blurbs #Tom Holland x reader insert #Tom Holland x you #Tom Holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland imagines #tom holland au #tom holland reader insert #Tom Holland angst #Tom Holland fluff #demon!tom #KOH!tom #:p

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clintbartonswife · 4 years

Text

if you asked me i would lose it all

All loves that he treasured, yet let go after a night or two, the heartache keeping him company until he found another gorgeous person to fall for.

When he finds Geralt at the ripe age of 18 it’s different, for once the bard doesn't want to leave, a nagging feeling pulling him along the path by the Witcher’s side.

It’s only Jaskier’s luck that the only person to ever intrigue him enough to stay seems to want him to leave, impenetrable walls built around his heart.

Everything starts to go wrong after the djiin.

Still the bard stayed, sewing his heart back together with every step he took beside the Witcher. His affectionate touches didn't falter, not allowing his own personal hurt to affect his Geralt negatively. He still deserved as much softness as he could bring himself to provide - Melitele knows Yennefer wasn't providing that.

Jaskier funnelled all of his creative energy in to his songs, more and more of them staying in his private notebook, too personal to be sung in front of Geralt, let alone the general public.

The last straw was the dragon hunt. The whistling winds whipping Jaskier’s hair in his eyes as Geralt’s words lashed out at him, vicious and hateful.

In the following two weeks, Jaskier drank to forget, falling back into old habits and into strangers beds with a new desperation.

The young farmer with hazel eyes - not as beautiful as Geralt’s. The miller’s daughter with blonde hair - not light enough.

The people begin to blend together, yet it doesn't work. The heartbreak still radiates through his body, numbing him from any other emotion.

He’s too drunk to register that Cintra has fallen.

Too drunk to hear the rumours of the bounty on his head.

Too drunk to notice the Nilfgaardian soldiers entering the tavern.

Too drunk to defend himself against their arms that steal him away that night.

When he awakens the next morning, head throbbing with the familiar pain of a hangover, Jaskier is hit with a wave of nausea.

Unrestrained panic swelled up in the bard’s chest, his instincts kicking in as he tried to mimic sleep.

‘Just breathe slowly, keep your eyes closed and stay calm’ repeated through his brain, sounding suspiciously like Geralt’s voice.

“-the bastard up yet?”

“He wasn't the last time I checked, no sir”

“And no sign from the Witcher?”

“None sir”

Scrunching his nose in disgust, Jaskier considered his options, “What is it that you want to know?”

Another scoff.

“Maybe he’s not so useless after all” the tall man sneered, exchanging an amused glance with the man stood in the corner, “Tell us where the Butcher of Blaviken is”

Self preservation was forgotten as the nickname stirred up anger deep inside Jaskier, the unfairness choking him, “I’m afraid I don't know any butchers, not the biggest fan of hanging around long enough in towns long enough to befriend anyone in that profession I’m afraid”

That earnt him a sharp slap, the sting helping to ground him.

“Don't try to be smart. Where is the Witcher - Geralt of Rivia?”

“Oh, I do know him” Jaskier answered, tone kept light and conversational, “Of course I haven't seen him in months so I’m afraid I’m really of no use to you gentlemen”

Another slap.

“Now that must be a lie. Why would the Witcher leave his little whore behind?”

Now that one stung, the frown forming on Jaskier’s face before he could stop it.

“Aw, struck a chord with that, did I? He found someone else I assume - though Melitele knows how anyone can lay with a monster like -”

Rage finally overflowing, Jaskier spat in the man’s face, “How dare you call him a monster. He’s a better man than you’ll ever be”

A bitter chuckle, followed by a punch that left the bard tasting copper.

“I think you might actually be in love with that thing” he said, amused, “That just makes this all the more fun”

Jaskier held eye contact with the man, glowering as he slowly spat out the pooled blood onto the floor.

“Tell me where he is”

“No”

Two punches to his stomach, and a hard kick to his shin.

“My sister hurt me worse than that for stealing her brush when we were seven” Jaskier sneered.

“Where is he”

A backhand across the face, followed by three hard kicks to his ribs.

“Toss a coin to your-”

Another heavy kick to his stomach, winding him slightly as he keeled forward, a burning pain spreading over his chest.

“Oh valley of plenty” he wheezed, forcing his head back up to stare at his captor’s face.

The day carried on very much the same, Jaskier working through his repertoire of songs as he was beaten black and blue, the lyrics keeping him focused and alert.

The man in the corner just stood and watched, his silent presence looming over the beating.

“I must say” Jaskier eventually huffed, directing his words at the man in the corner, “Your indifference to this situation is highly annoying. Are you not enjoying the performance?”

His question was met with another heavy hit to his stomach, the skin there surely covered in a patchwork quilt of forming bruises.

“You bore me”

The voice was cold, cutting through the pain like a knife and replacing all feeling in his body with the need to flee, an innate wrongness surrounding the man.

He stepped forward into the light, pink eyes flashing at him, “I think it’s high time we shut you up”

The taller man grinned, a shark-like expression that just added to the bard’s discomfort, moving behind him to grab him by the sides of the head, tilting him so that his neck was bared to the room.

They’re going to slit my throat, Jaskier thought absently, half delirious with pain, this is it.

The slimy tendrils of magic prodding at his mind made Jaskier’s eyes widen in panic, struggling against the bonds in a fruitless effort to get away from the unsettling sensation.

No. No this was so much worse.

He could handle pain. He could handle taunting words and harsh treatment. The one thing Jaskier couldn't handle was fucking mages.

“No - “ he gasped, voice distorted by the angle of his head, “please-”

Yellow eyes. Lips curled in to a snarl.

The mountain.

“Damn it, Jaskier!”

No. No no no no no no no. Not this. Anything but this.

“Why is it whenever I find myself in a pile of shit these days, its you, shoveling it?”

White hair. Curled fists.

“If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you off my hands”

Wet eyes. Shattered heart. A wasted life.

“Damn it, Jaskier!”

And it looped. Again, and again, and again,

“Ready to talk, bard?”

His eyes fluttered open, eyelids heavy, fighting to remain closed.

“Fuck. You” he hissed, words mangled through gritted teeth.

The mage smirked, fingers reaching for his temple again, “Very well. It seems like one hour wasn't enough”

The last thought Jaskier had before being pulled back to the mountain was one of horror, that one hour had felt like an entire day.

When he came to once more, Geralt’s voice still ringing in his ears, Jaskier realised there was a new man in the otherwise empty room.

The realisation occurred to him as he noticed his hands were free, a rusty cot added to the corner of the room.

“No” he whispered, the horror palpable in his tone.

“Well that's too bad” the man sneered, his too-rough hands dragging him out of the chair and towards the cot.

The irony was that in that moment Jaskier would’ve given anything to have been back on that mountain, Geralt blaming him for everything, rather than be faced with his current reality.

Of course, the mage wasn't kind enough for that.

Jaskier wasn't sure how many days had passed since his capture.

What he did know was this: his throat was too sore to speak, ruined from both abuse and lack of water; his body was so mottled that it looked like he had begun rotting, greenish-yellow marks covering almost every inch of his skin; his back shredded by the impromptu whipping session earlier that morning; and he wasn't sure he could muster a smile, even if informed of the untimely and gruesome death of Valdo Marx.

But, no matter what they threw at him, he would not betray Geralt.

They wouldn't take away his love.

So he breathed steadily as he looked as his hands, tied down firmly to the arms of the chair, taking in every detail of the calloused fingers that made him the famous bard that he was today.

“Last chance. Where is the Witcher”

Jaskier just grinned, the smile bloody and insincere.

“Fucking your mother I would imagine” he croaked, withholding the wince of pain from the strain on his throat, instead widening his grin at the look of anger on the man’s face.

With a growl, the man brought the hammer down heavily on Jaskier’s left ring finger, smiling sickeningly at the bard’s agonised scream.

“Where is he?”

Head fuzzy with pain, Jaskier scowled and spat his blood in the man’s eyes.

The sickening crunch of bone echoed around the small room, Jaskier’s scream ringing out as another two fingers were smashed.

The line of questioning continued until all of his fingers were unrecognisable, the bard humming ‘Fishmonger’s Daughter’ through tears as he tried to regain control of his breathing.

“What a shame” the captor said, fake sympathy swimming in his cold eyes, “Looks like you’re worth even less than you were when we found you. What worth is a bard if he cant play anymore?”

Jaskier tried to ignore his words, focusing on his rattling lungs instead, forcing them to inhale and exhale.

Unconsciousness crept forward, the pain finally overwhelming him, Jaskier falling into it’s open arms gladly.

“-cher isn't coming for him. We’ve had the word out for two weeks and got nothing”

The words drifted in to Jaskier’s cell, the conversation prying him from sleep.

“So what do we do? The bard’s not talking”

“We were meant to give a destination by yesterday”

“So we make one up, blame the bard when it comes back empty”

“... That could work”

“Then I’m guessing we kill him afterwards?”

“Theres no reason to keep him”

“Well-”

“You’re not using army funds to feed just so he can be your personal whore, Cahir would skin you alive if he found out”

Not for the first time, he wondered where Geralt was. Safe, that he was sure of, hidden from the greedy eyes of the Nilfgaardian army if their unhappiness was anything to go off of.

Had he found Cirilla yet?

Was Roach okay?

Was he taking proper care of himself?

And - in even his lowest moments - he found himself wondering how Yennefer was.

If she was handling the break-up better than he did.

If she was safe, happy, looked after.

Or maybe, perhaps even back with Geralt. The three of them playing happy families while Jaskier rotted in a cell and waited for a hapless death.

As the fog in his brain seemed to seep into his dimming vision, his thoughts returned to Geralt’s eyes.

“Goodnight my love”

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