#and it feels so bizarre that it's only real now inside of our memories

[prideofcelestia]

❝ reincarnation ❞

notes -> this is my piece for leviathan's birthday collaboration 2023. the prompt is 'reincarnation'

i had a lot of fun with this collab. everyone worked really hard and it was a beautiful feeling to work with people who love the game and levi. thank you everyone for the support and effort you put!

happy birthday, levi!!! thank you for being my beacon of hope during bleak times. you are such an amazing otaku. you give me courage to love the things i do ♡

contains tw -> angst, mentions of war, mentions of death, angst with a happy, hopeful ending.

leviathan x gender neutral reader

Levi jumped, a magazine lying at his feet.

“Ivel-chan was reincarnated as a slime in this life and she will have her revenge!”

He remembered crying buckets last week when they had killed her off. So what if she was a side character? In his heart, she was brighter than the protagonist who only gave fan service these days. At least Ivel-chan had character!

The door to his room flung over. Lucifer peeked inside, his eyes glimmering with sadistic enthusiasm. The twins, who were only toddlers, rested in baby clasps, one on his back, one in the front.

“Levi, dinner has been ready for ten minutes now. Do you want to come to the table or be fed right here?”

“Eep! I-I am coming.”

༺☆༻

“Mammon, don’t play with your food. Asmo, put the mirror down. Satan, don’t glare at your food,” Lucifer chided before feeding a happy Beel.

“Levi, remember that you have to show [Name] around the neighbourhood.”

Levi groaned because he liked staying indoors, “Why do I have to do it?”

“Because their family just shifted in yesterday and [Name] is the same age as you. So as good," Lucifer put emphasis, making Levi shudder, "neighbours, we must do our duty.”

༺☆༻

Seeing you for the first time made Levi feel butterflies in his stomach. You seemed someone out of his memory but that somehow made you feel more real than ever. Every word of protest he had been repeating to himself till then disappeared.

He has had crushes before, both reel and real but it felt different this time. It was as if he knew you from somewhere, and not in a I-have-seen-you-before kind of way but in a I-know-you-well kind of way. It made him feel uncomfortable. He felt violated, as if you could see right through him. He might not be too difficult to read, given that he was nothing more than a yucky otaku but he still had some secrets he wanted to keep safe and your vibe was completely off.

“Do I know you?” you asked, feeling a knot in your stomach that you could not justify.

The idea of letting a stranger show you around a new neighbourhood made you anxious, but the feeling that dominated you right now was curiosity, and surprisingly, interest.

༺☆༻

Levi wasn't that bad. He actually did a good job showing you the places that mattered. The arcade, the stores where the best instant ramen was to be found, the aquarium, and… an anime cafe, too. The last one quite surprised you.

You started hanging out together, mostly because you had become acquainted with him a little, and he seemed fun. He held the same opinion about you and made plans together, although all of it was in his room, playing games.

It felt as if you had lived those exact moments several times with him. Every time he leaned against you during an intense gaming session and apologised, or when he offered you new ramen flavours to try, you would be hit with a memory from a time unknown.

Even though your mind was foggy, you knew that the places you pictured him in were more beautiful than your memory could produce. To add colour to mystery, he was in some sort of an angel cosplay. It all felt really bizarre but it made you think about him more than should be considered healthy.

In his turn, Levi felt guilty that he just couldn't get you out of his mind. He was supposed to be a good friend to you. Wasn't it betraying you if he was, what he believed it to be, falling in love with you?!

༺☆༻

The dreams followed soon. You could neither understand the significance nor discuss it with someone to come to a conclusion.

Those felt disconnected and unreal and you kept mixing the details in your head, not to mention the haunted look Levi had the day after you got one of the dreams.

One day, you decided to take him into your confidence. Slowly but firmly.

You said casually, “Levi, why do you look so tired today?”

He blinked and looked frightened, “Huuuu-? Me?? We-Well, there's something on my m-m-mind. I didn't know how to t-tell you this. I've been having strange dreams these days. I got one last night.”

You stopped in your tracks abruptly to turn towards him. He felt hot under your intense gaze.

“Wh-Why are you looking at m-m-me like that?”

“It’s just,” you began, extremely calm and intrigued, “I have been having dreams that I can’t explain for a while too. Maybe we should talk.”

༺☆༻

“Is this the place?” you called out to Levi after reaching the top of the hill.

The poor guy had been running to keep up with you. Presently, he sat down to rest. Once he could breathe well, he looked around.

There were a few trees scattered around. Wild grass and dandelions had spread there for a good while, lending a weathered yellow look to the place.

It was hauntingly beautiful in your eyes.

“Y-Yeah, this is the place I saw in my dr-dreams. I have been too afraid to come here alone,” Levi said, almost breathless.

The place seemed to talk to him too.

You explored the place while Levi was content with glancing around from his spot.

A sense of nostalgia washed over you. When you glanced back at him, you knew that he felt the same.

On walking around, you came across a small pond that seemed to draw you in.

That's when you saw something shining between the rocks.

After nudging the rocks aside, you found a locket there. It must have been a pretty colour once but now it was rusted and impossible to open.

You didn't know why you hid it so quickly when you heard Levi calling out for you.

Maybe you needed time to think and figure it out yourself first.

༺☆༻

You couldn't put the matter aside for later. The object seemed to call out to you so you put the controller down and turned towards Levi.

“Listen, I picked something up from that place.”

You pulled the locket out and showed it to your friend.

His eyes grew as large as saucepans, “Wh-What do you mean you just randomly picked it up? It could be bad, REALLY b-bad! We still don’t know what those dreams mean!”

You sighed and motioned it towards him, “But isn’t this better than to just speculate?”

He croaked, “The dreams make me uncomfortable… the place… I feel like I have been there before.”

You inched closer to him.

“I understand. Don't worry, I am here with you.”

He stared at you before his lips finally curved up in a smile. “Thank you. You are my true friend, my best friend even!”

Then he shrugged his shoulders, “I guess this is what a protagonist would do. Who am I to stop you? Let's see if it does anything.”

When he touched the locket in your hand, everything around grew dark.

༺☆༻

You were transported to a place beautiful beyond expectations. A strong, shaky hand wrapped around your shoulder, surprising you. A quick glance revealed that it was Levi. He was wearing pure white robes and there was a halo floating on his head. You wanted to laugh and tease him but you couldn’t move.

“I love you, [Name],” he said. The pain in his voice and the fire in his eyes took you aback. “I-I promise that I will pr-protect you in the war.”

What war?

Your mouth seemed to have a mind of its own. Your hand intertwined with his and you found yourself smiling while your veins coursed with fear. “I love you too, Levi. I will not let any harm come to you. Forever, remember?”

“Yes, fo-forever,” he spoke shyly but there was a smile on his face.

༺☆༻

The scene shifted. You were in armed combat with an extremely angry looking woman.

Damn! She was skilled. Every time she swung her spear, you thought that you were about to die, but your body moved meticulously to avoid the attacks.

“[Name], are you fine?” Levi screamed from somewhere.

The female angel raised her eyebrows and showed you a nasty smile before pointing her spear in the direction of Levi’s voice. Your eyes widened as you turned around only to find him busy commanding his army.

He would notice the spear too late! You launched yourself in front of him just before the fatal blow.

“[Name]!”

The poison flowed through your body with vigour, making you fall in and out of consciousness. Levi caught you just as you were about to give up.

With his features contorted with rage, he turned towards the female angel. She smiled triumphantly.

"SOLDIERS!" Levi bellowed. "Attack her!"

The woman got her spear ready and took charge while Levi's army flew past Levi at top speed.

The legion of angels he had been fighting looked on with hope.

The leader of the opposition commanded in a muffled tone, “Attack [Name] together while Leviathan is distracted. That way he will lose his intention to fight.”

Someone put a dagger through Levi's back but despite not understanding the source of the pain, he shielded you with his body. He prioritised you over his own life.

"Soldiers! Protect [Name]!"

It was too late. His eyes felt heavy owing to the poison in the dagger. He couldn't even see where his sworn angels were for the last time or who had been his nemesis in the end.

You both fell together. If you couldn't be alive together, then you two would be together in death.

༺☆༻

“I wish we had a normal life together. Then, we wouldn’t have had to live like outcasts,” Levi whispered when he saw you struggling to keep your eyes open. “As long as I had a chance to live with you, I was happy being an outcast. It seems that our time is up now.”

Levi cried, not because of his condition, but to see life draining from your eyes slowly. “I-I am the happiest angel that’s about to die, [Name]. I am sorry I couldn’t protect you in this life.”

A tear ran down your cheek, “I am sorry too for breaking my promise. I couldn't be with you forever. I couldn't protect you in the end either… I hope we meet again, Levi. I will love you in every lifetime.”

Your hands were intertwined, a locket in your grasp. A locket that enclosed your happiest memory together.

༺☆༻

The flashback ended and you both came back to your senses.

“Ouch!” you yelled and tried to pull your hand back. Levi had it in a tight grasp.

On seeing the fear etched on his face, you got quiet and took a deep breath. It had all felt so surreal.

“What just happened?” you murmured, the full burden of the flashback just setting in.

He looked at your entwined hands and noticed the absence of the locket. He felt a pang in his heart. He only knew that it had been important once but he didn't understand how. Surely it was no merch so why did he care so much?!

“I th-think it was the locket," he blurted out. "When we bo-both touched it, we finally saw the… the entire dream.”

A thoughtful silence filled the room.

You whispered, “I don’t think it was a dream.”

You squeezed his hand gently before looking at him with bated breath.

His lower lip quivered, “I don’t think it was a dream either.”

He turned his gaze towards you. His grip tightened, “D-Did I ever tell you that I am glad we met? I'm happy that you're not a dream. I want to keep knowing you, to make more memories with you. Will you let me?”

༺☆༻

Two people, seated in a small room, forgot the game they had been playing and instead glanced at each other at the moment. Their eyes held tenderness and the advent of new love.

The vast world danced with endless possibilities for their future. No moment was wasted as they decided their own future, unsullied by their past but still keeping their spirit alive.

It was a life they wanted and that was good enough.

#obey me #obey me x reader #gender neutral reader #gender neutral mc #obey me x mc #obey me! #shion script #obey me scenario #obey me leviathan #leviathanbday2023 #leviathan x reader #leviathan x you #leviathan x mc #obey me levi #leviathan avatar of envy #obey me imagines #i feel like i could have added something more or done a better job ;;;;

[rosemaydone321]

Remember me part 1

Eren x fem reader

Summery:your boyfriend had long dream of forgotten memory

"Mmmm.....I had the longest dream (y/n)" Eren said to the woman next to him

(Y/n) turn around while fixing her makeup to see her boyfriend completely ready to go for Armin and Annie weeding "of what eren" she said

Eren sighted and set on the edge of there shared bed facing her back

"The we where in world the is surround buy walls and we where fighting titan to survive but I was somehow one of them and could shift back but in the end to protect every one I love i needed to rumble the world for the people I grow up with somehow to survive......do I make sense"

Feeling bizarre and uneasy I replied to Eren "I think you have not gotten enough rest this past month or proper meal come on Eren we need to get going is Armin and Annie weeding "

"No y/n you need to remember" as Eren move towards me and made his head touch mine

I saw me and armin and Mikasa somehow friends so was I with eren then we joined the army to fight those Titans who were real and eat people alive but then me and eren turn to Titans so our journey begin secrets being revealed and eren growing cold each year lead to his attack on Marley then he got beheaded by a girl named Gabi which transformed him to the founder titan buy yimr so me and armin and Mikasa join forced to stop the rumbling which successfully we stoped it buy killing eren but in the end I was so lost of how I let them hurt Eren

So i stole him from his best friends in my titan form not understanding why I am the only one with the ability to shift as titan although yimr cursed been broken which i don't care only of how to bring eren back to live which then I gave up because I realized the this is not what Eren would have wanted he suffered from everyone and needed to rest for god sake

I took my beloved to our home town where we grow up buried him in the tree used to where he would observe those walls i took the last look on Eren face before cover it in grace

soon people started to come and so did familiar faces rose from a far

I apologize to armin and Mikasa for what I did but they said they did forgive me but I needed to stay out from eyesight because of my powers and because there a lot people are targeting me now I travel with Armin buy boats leaving you Eren with Mikasa and her husband so many years past i hardly aged all people I know are no longer with us i stayed alone seeing people rebuild and move on to start destruction once again and silly old wars but one thing for sur i was the only silly and old woman inside but how did i died.....

#eren jaeger #aot x reader #shingeki no kyojin mikasa #snk anime #eren jeager x reader #eren yeager #snk eren

[gabenvrhappened]

MoviesOr… Poor Things

Bizarre. That's the only thing I know for sure that I can write about Poor Things. I'm still trying to process everything that I watched and this first line seated on my drafts for ages until I finally decided that I was ready to say something about this brilliant, yet unhinged, movie. It reminds me of the weirdness of Saltburn, a concept that now I know I adore, but here it goes beyond the logical. It's a trip inside the entrails of the human existence, and its patched up substance, that we try to fix with strings and nails.

That being said, I'll start with the beginning. I've been wanting to watch this ever since it was announced because no movie with Emma Stone can be a bad movie. So, there I was heading to a theatre in London that I've been wanting to go to for ages. It looks so opponent on the outside, that you can see whitin your exit at Leicester Square station. However, one thing you need to know about theatres in London: they show 30 minutes of commercials, so you might as well always arrive late because... it sucks. Another thing that sucks: the screens aren't as big as I'm used to, so this is a quest that I'm still on: to try to find a real big screen here.

With all those considerations made, let's embark on the movie. Like I always try to do, I took my seat not knowing a thing about the movie. I let it surprise me. And man, it did. I would have never imagined I would see the things I saw. And I would have never imagined I would sit through an almost three-hour movie with Mark Ruffalo. Sorry, I just don't like his acting, but here, it wasn't that insufferable. In fact, it was good to see him being played and ruled out by Bella Baxter.

Speaking of which, what a witch Emma Stone is. Watching her was magical. As I probably have mention a few times — and I don't say that do brag, it's because my memory is terrible — being an actor myself is a curse because you can't stop noticing other actors acting, so that's one reason more as why I am speechless by Emma's performance. Her movements. Her expressions. I wish I could be a third of what she is. She's a monster. I would have never thought I would see her doing the things she did throughout this crazy journey. It was insane to watch her grow her character from a demented girl (can I say that?) to a cultured woman. The development and the change of the two counterpoints of her main character are so well made, that I can't begin to fathom how she did her preparation for this role. And here I am suffering to do Romeo.

The story of the movie, I should mention, is just as powerful as Emma's performance. An empowering movie that doesn't need to use big speeches to make a point, just like Barbie tried to do last year but failed miserably. That's why it feels so authentic and sharp. The cruelty of the world, the use of the body without shame, the power to be who you want to be without question are messages that are passed to us fluidly. Honestly, I think we all should be a bit like Bella: fearless and fierce. Being a grown woman with an innocent sense of the word is what I hoped we all would have. How large the possibilities would be if we didn't stay trapped inside our adult heart and mind that grew tired of being axed and mutilated? What if we spoke our minds and did what we want to do without shame?

With so many questions and thoughts popping up in our spheres, it's deranged to imagine we could still have time to digest the incredible scenery and designer choices, but everything is patched up so perfectly that we can. The craziness inside and out coexists without much problem. In fact, there are so many shattering aspects of this work of art that it's hard to point out what stands out the most. The scene of the poor people dying from starvation, for one, is so dauntingly haunting that it's almost a crime that it had been followed by the hilarious scene of Mark Ruffalo's character trying to kill an elderly woman on a cruise. Not to mention the whole dining and dance scene, that perfectly shows how pure innocence can be. The title cards from the cities, as well, are just another highlight of the many mesmerizing moments that we get to witness while the lights are off and our senses are on and just shows how dedicated the art team of the movie was while bringing to life this melogamic story.

If anything, the only flaw of the movie is the way they resolved the last conflict. A shoot being blasted in the foot and a poisoned drink being thrown on the face of such a dangerous man? Really? With such an intricate screenplay, these decisions seem… poor (no pun intended). Actually, the whole plot of the sadistic husband felt unnecessary, even though it was kind of necessary since it's part of the resolution of the enigma behind the mysteriously, yet enchanting, riddle Bella Baxter became to be.

Poor Things can be hard to swallow for some, or just a delicious pastel de nata for others. It can be as excitingly normal as an apple being used as a sexual instrument, or weirdly disturbing as animals with different bodies mixed together. Either way, that's the brilliance behind it and its black and white then colorful world, in its human or fish perspectives; it's its own world, in all its glory just waiting to be found, if you have the heart, or brains, to do so.

#MoviesOrGabeNeverHappened

[generoustriumphsheep]

5/30 (2/8/19) 1 Mr. Blue (Fly) Sky

It's weird what you remember about the past. I can still feel the memories if I reflect hard enough. My flight was early at 6 am and I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I was drowning in the sea of love. It's crazy when you really think about it, I had no idea what possessed me to go out of state to see him and why nothing stopped me in between. I was young and so into this guy which makes me laugh now. He was blonde with blue eyes and he made me squirm with excitement on the inside. We had known each other for years, but not like this, this was something I never would've imagined. I trusted he would pick me up from the airport, and somehow I made it there. I only had a big carry on tote with 2 outfits, sweats and my makeup. I remember setting it down at my feet on the last connecting flight. I was sat between two other people with both airpods in just wondering what would happen next. Looking back I feel bad, but now I can see this was just all apart of my adolescence journey, I was 20 and just trying to do something that felt right, like I was chasing something I was dying for. I have no idea what he was thinking on the other hand. He had moved out there the year before to OK and was living with his brothers to save money. It was random that weekend I just happened to visit was when he was moving into his first apartment. He called me when he got there and I went out, I couldn't believe that when I walked up to his car he would be in it there to pick me up. I got in and it was real, I was really there. So bizarre. And then we were just on our way. We went to his brother's place to get the rest of his stuff. The house was nice but weird, it didn't look like the houses in California. Even the neighborhoods were different, down to the curbs. Everything was so different it was so cool to take everything in. It was so mind blowing just driving around together, catching up and listening to music. I reached back to grab his CD's and he slapped my ass. It was so weird just thinking back to our sexual history and how detrimental it was to my becoming a woman. I remember telling my friend K, I knew we were going to smash when I was there but I didn't know how it would happen. I was a little nervous. I had only been with him twice (once and a half) and with one other guy. Next we got to his apartment and I was so in awe, it was a nice place and I was already imagining myself living there like a crazy person. I helped bring his stuff in and we did a tour of the place and I helped him decide what went where. His bed was already there and I sat on it while he showered.

#adolenscents #love #travel #heartbroken #OK #writersclub #writeblr #honestwriting #reflection

[noface-phantom7]

Bodysuit: Skin Maketh Man

A Case of SCP-5091: Sir Skeleton

In New York, you can be a new man—that was what my father told me before departing on the Midnight Train a long time ago. I didn’t understand him at first, didn’t know what a ‘New York’ was, all I knew was my home Nevermeant just outside of Alagadda. But after his disappearance, I’ve heard tall tales of men with skin, flesh, and organs vastly different from us bones. This ‘New York’ had been the subject of my father’s desire, so it wasn’t out of the question that he took the train towards that place.

It had been more than a century ago, but I distinctly remember how my father longed to be a man of flesh—he’d read from the scriptures how we once had bodies of flesh too, before being casted off to Nevermeant with the Sarkics, but there was a way to regain our bodies and that is to wear another being’s. I casted it off as yet another fairytale of the Alagaddians, it seemed bizarre, nonsensical, yet the Sarkics talked of the ‘other world’ like it was paradise.

I didn’t understand it at that time, but after crossing this world, I finally understood my father.

I’ve been here in New York for more than an entire year now, there were no signs of my father, but I couldn’t care less. I’ve learned the art of stealing another person’s skin rather quickly, and every single ‘skinsuit’ I’ve taken has been very accepting. I’ve changed bodies over the course of the year though; whenever I see a flesh I desire, I just wait for the right time to steal it.

This one, for example. We met at a bar downtown, back when I was wearing Thomas. His name is George, and I’ve been wearing him for nearly a month now. His skin has served me well since, not only was he the conventionally attractive male, but he was so far the best among the men I’ve picked.

Here’s the thing with the bodies I’ve used, I only pick the men for three reasons: One, is that despite not having any genitalia in my real form, I have always been referred to as ‘Sir’ like my father. Two, there really is just something that attracts me to human males—their form is enticing both for me to wear and generally enjoy gazing at.

And third, well, there’s something about the appendage they call the ‘penis’, or vulgarly as ‘cock’, that fills me with an inexplicable amount of pleasure that I have never experienced in my nearly one millennia of existence in the Nevermeant. It was a strange feeling—the mere act of pleasuring oneself had never occurred to me until the second human that I wore, Lex.

The first human whose skin I occupied was on impulse. I felt bare as soon as I disembarked from the train and found myself pulling his body away into a skinsuit, leaving him bare bones as I wore his skin. It didn’t even last me a full day when I saw Lex—I remember stripping the skinsuit off myself as fast as I could, before ambushing Lex from behind and knocking him out.

As soon as I did, I had stripped him out of his clothes, and did the same process of pulling his skin, flesh, and organs clean for myself. I remember the excitement I felt as soon as I slipped inside him, and more so once I wore him. That was the first time I had experienced a ‘boner’.

I remember how obscene yet exhilarating it was when I did it out in the open, behind a vehicle parked in an alley. My new appendage was stiff as a rod at that point, and although I couldn’t access the memories of the real owners of the bodies I use, I had the overwhelming urge to grasp it, and stroke it in a manner that was both familiar and at the same time unfamiliar to me. I was rewarded by immense pleasure, once I reached the point of sweet release. At that point, I had decided to only use male bodies.

Back to the present time, George had already served his purpose to me. Some bodies last shorter, a couple have lasted me months, but I felt like it was time to retire this skinsuit and look for a new one that I hope I could use for months. And where else is the best place to look for them, but in the gym?

Over time, I learned how to either fake identities, or try my best to act as if I was the person I was wearing—though the latter takes some time since I need to get to know them well first. The same case was with George, though I feel like trying on a new body and creating a new identity this time.

Visiting the gym was like going to a clothing store, at least for me. There’s so much skin to pick from and wear, and I could already feel life stirring inside my pants yet again at the idea. George frequented this one gym that had just the type of men that I go for, and it was around the most bustling gyms near me too.

As soon as I strode in, I skipped the locker room. I carried nothing but myself in, and went straight to where the men worked out. I was hit by the smell of musk and sweat filling the entire place the instant I stepped in, and I licked my lips hungrily, already eyeing a few men. I went straight towards the end of the room where I had a good vantage point. Once I had settled there, I started warming up and stretching whilst looking around, surveying the room with a sweeping gaze.

To my left, were what seemed like a group of friends about George’s age. I could opt for them too, but I decided I wanted to get someone a little older. As soon as my eyes left them, I spotted someone walking in towards the locker room. It was a huge guy, and a grin crept up my mouth as soon as I saw him enter.

I decided to follow him, weaving past a couple of other gym-goers who had been eyeing me as soon as I walked in. I winked at them and gave them a smirk, before going my way—which was probably the last time I’ll ever get to do so in George’s skin.

The locker room was nearly empty, besides the man unpacking his duffel bag on the bench. He was too busy sorting through his things that he didn’t even notice me slowly making my way towards him.

He was a little taller than me, much bulkier, and actually a little more attractive than George. I could see sweat glistening on his black hair which was damp with sweat and he’d already stripped his shirt off, hand going forward to reach for the dark gray top that laid on the bench. He might have gone on a jog prior on the way here, and he had his airpods on, still unaware of my presence.

I positioned myself quietly behind him as he started to push his head inside his top. I quickly slipped off George’s skin, letting it slump beneath me as I revealed my true form: a walking skeleton.

I reached forward, my bony hands finding their way towards the man’s hair, and the other onto his nape. He gasps once I grabbed his hair, and then yanked it back as I did with the skin on his nape. He was tight, much to my glee, as I slowly yanked skin and flesh off of him. Like I did earlier, his skin and flesh slipped off his bone frame quickly, dropping onto the ground in a pile as I held in my hand a perfect skinsuit that looked like a deflated version of the man while his sweatpants slipped off.

Like a person would with a brand new coat, I immediately stretched the skinsuit’s mouth open enough to accommodate me. It was a little heavy, mostly because of this man’s muscle mass, but I found it a little easy to squeeze in.

Part by part, I aligned myself in, hearing a satisfying pop and a barrage of sensations the moment I fit the right limbs together. My new member immediately sprang to action once I had my lower torso fitted in, I found myself already very eager as I finally wore my new arms like a glove. The suit’s head was still hanging on my neck, but I couldn’t resist the urge to bring my new large palms on the tip of my rod, massaging it, and eliciting the wondrous primal feeling of pleasure that I always looked forward to.

Before getting too ahead of myself, I pulled the suit over my head, fitting my face into my new one. Once it was on, I cracked my neck to the side, and cleared my throat to prepare my new voice. Once everything was set, I looked around the shower room, noted the emptiness, and set to work. If I make it quick, I could go for a round before anyone finds me.

And I did, it was yet another great experience. I was now even more hung than George was, and I quickly discarded the piles by stuffing it into one of the old unused lockers. I straddled out of the locker room in my new skin, with the dark gray top, and my member still slightly stiff. I relished my new form, and found myself lifting up my top a little, teasingly, as I snapped a photo.

I grinned at the image, before posting it on this man’s socials. Apparently, his name was Roy. Good name, but I feel like I could go for something else much fitting in this form. Feeling myself getting hot and hard again, I decided to hit the weights across the room, just to test out how much stronger my new body is.

Picking up one of the heaviest wasn’t too much of an issue though, but it was at that moment that I saw someone bench pressing that I felt myself staring. He was just as huge as I was, the same age, but he sported a more boyish look especially with his short chestnut hair. I glanced at myself in the huge mirrors momentarily, hesitating.

Roy’s body is great, but something inside me was gravitating towards the other guy. It was only when he finished doing his reps and walked away from the bench press that I could see a bulge, an outline of something beneath the shorts he wore.

I found myself dropping the equipment I was holding, and then slowly followed him on his way to the restroom. He was on his phone, so like Roy a while ago, he was a little preoccupied. It was my chance, it was an itch that needed scratching and the urge wouldn’t stop until I'd gotten the chance to wear him too.

He didn’t even notice me enter the restroom, even if it weren’t that big—he was too busy taking boastful selfies in the mirror, doing various poses and flexing his body for whoever was on the other line. I smirked, and walked closer to him while he was busy typing away.

“Looking good, man!” I told him with a tap on his shoulder, snapping him out as he whips around to face me.

“Huh? Oh, thanks—” He starts, spinning around to face me as I quickly ripped Roy’s skinsuit off of my body. The man opened his mouth to scream, but I was a little faster, already yanking his skeleton out of him.

As soon as I held the skinsuit, I locked the door, and quickly worked to slip myself inside him. He weighed nearly the same as Roy, but his insides were much warmer and tighter, so every limb I slipped in gave an even more satisfying pop. I was already rock hard at that point, he was a little girthier than Roy was, though I had to hold it off.

To playfully mock the previous owner of this skin, I briefly put his underwear and shorts back on, and recalled one of his poses earlier, before proceeding to take the same selfie myself.

This guy’s name was Robin, and he had been sending his selfies to his girlfriend. I grimaced at the thought, but rolled my eyes regardless, and turned to tend to my new member already rubbing against the cloth of my shorts. I started to massage it, letting myself moan loudly with my new deep baritone voice, when I heard a banging sound, followed by a swear.

I whipped around, searching for the source of the noise, and found a shadow shifting under one of the stalls. There was someone else in the room, and they might just have witnessed what happened.

I haven’t had the unfortunate incident of anyone seeing me bare bones other than my soon-to-be skinsuits, nor has anyone caught me wearing one, but it seemed as if this one had—and even if he didn’t he’d see the discarded pile of Roy’s flesh and Robin’s bone pile, and assume a crime.

“Is someone there?” I ask, before slowly tip-toeing my way towards the middle stall. There were no more movements, but I was sure the person was here. I mentally slapped my forehead for not thinking to check the stalls before I took Robin. “Hey, are you—”

I was mere inches away from the stall, when its door flew open and pushed hard against me, sending me stumbling back. I felt myself left foot step on something soft, yet slimy, and I was already slipping onto the ground when I caught on.

The man had escaped the stall, and was looking at me and the pile of flesh and bones scattered around me. “What the fuck?” I hear him say, my body screaming in pain as I felt a tear on the back of my skinsuit. Great, it’s been damaged before I could enjoy it.

“I’m out of here.” The man says with a shaky voice, turning towards the door. He was going to escape, and tell people, and they’d find me here. I can’t let that happen.

“No!” I say, quickly slipping out of the Robin skin by tearing through the hole. The man freezes and almost stumbles back in fear, and I took the opportunity to lunge at him. His eyes grew wide a second too late, and I was already onto him. I thrust my hand inside his mouth, the other on his hair, and took him out.

I sighed in frustration, holding his skin up with one hand before staring at the ruined Robin one. I could, of course, opt to get the Roy suit back, but staring at it now, it didn’t look too good either. Since I had stepped on it, I’m sure I might have damaged the insides too.

Not wanting to stay bare for long, I slipped the new suit on begrudgingly. The suit was a little tighter, much to my surprise. I didn’t get much of a good look on this man, but I slipped into his skin perfectly, like it was cut and made specifically for me. It felt the most different so far, both weird, and arousing.

Once I had the entire suit on, I stared at myself in the mirror on the other side of the room. I was much scruffier, in fact, than anyone I’ve ever put on with hair growing on my chest and a beard. I was a little less bulkier than Roy and Robin, yet still felt just as strong and tight, and actually a little more chiseled. I felt the all too familiar urge to feel pleasure, even more so when I tried to suppress it by putting my shorts back on.

I must say, though—I still look good. Maybe it was high time for me to use something a little different, like this guy’s body this time.

I grinned at myself, shrugging, before taking more pictures and eventually, letting loose my tool and resuming what I was supposed to do in Robin’s. I grinned, staring at my new bare body in the mirror, before working on it. Pleasure washed over me at the touch, with both mine and the body’s pent up desire for release, it might just have been even more intense than when I did it with Roy earlier.

I was smeared with my new essence once I was finished, but after handling the piles of flesh and bones around me, I decided to not clean up and let the people stare at the drying globs of white on my beard and chest.

I certainly don’t mind them staring now.

–

That must have been the bravest, most vulgar thing I’ve done. I could still remember the stares, the many uncomfortable shifting and pulling at their shirts and pants. That was fun, and not regrettable at all.

And now, it has been nearly four months since I found this body, the longest I’ve had, so far. I must say, it’s really serving and suiting me well. I’ve opted to keep his name, Santiago, and have long since flew back to Europe, where he belonged. New York had been fun, but I guess it was time for me to find a greener pasture, especially with a new body and identity such as this.

And while I can’t say for certain how long I’ll stay as Santiago, or if I’ll decide to stay like this until this flesh grows too weary, what I can say is that it’s been fun so far. And before that time eventually comes, I’m going to be enjoying the heck out of it, that’s for sure.

#male transformation #short story #male bodysuit #male body theft #male body possession #male to male possession #male tf #male possession #scp5091 #bodysuit #skinsuit

[1025cherrystreet]

funeral

y/n attends a funeral and feels hopeless after losing her best friend until she meets her late bsf's cousin Harry.

a/n: this is for @harrystylescherry​ Playlist Fic Challenge!!! this is inspired by the song Funeral by Phoebe Bridgers. i used the name Phoebe in the story but i wasn't picturing Phoebe Bridgers when I was writing that character, i just liked the name and decided to go with it! but, y'all can picture her however y'all like lol. i went from loving this story to hating it, but i hope y'all like it! any feedback is appreciated!! <3

**despite it being surrounded by depressing matters, it's actually a cute and fluffy story lol! just wanted to point that out because i, myself, kinda avoid reading sad stories

warnings: a LOT of talk about death and dying and funerals, mentions depression/depressive episode?, mentions drugs and alcohol, swearing. i'm ceo of rushing the ending, soz <3 (also, gave up on proofreading lmao)

word count: 8k+ (this is the longest piece i've ever written lol)

Y/N has this dream. Where she's screaming underwater while her friends are waving at her from the shore. She's desperately calling for them, hoping and waiting for them to help, but, seemingly, her friends can't hear... and can't help. Submerged beneath the thrashing waters, her wails fall silent; her familiars deaf to her pleads. The more she struggles to get to the surface for air, the deeper she sinks. Her friends just waving at her as she drifts to the bottom. Every time she jolts awake from these dreams in a sweat stained bed and sticky clothes, she decides to brush it off. Not wanting to think about the problems she needs to face or what she needs to work on. Always concluding that she doesn't need anyone to tell her what it means or overanalyze her life through misplaced visions. Deciding to not believe assumptions made from vague, painful pictures.

As the familiar sinking feeling in her chest starts yet again, Y/N snaps her eyes up at the casket as the sound of her best friend's mother releasing a heart wrenching sob catches her focus.

The contrast of the white roses that lay on top of Phoebe's mahogany stained casket almost glow in the evening light, seeming like a mock to such a somber evening. The way the living looks so effervescent and bright, casting shadows on the less fortunate. The dead never celebrated in such light but rather mourned in dim grief and sadness.

Y/N doesn't like funerals, and not just because her best friend of 10 years is the recipient of this one. She's never cared for them. Believing they're just an excuse to get over the one they are to be honoring, they carry a stigma that everyone in attendance has to cry or you're seen as heartless, while the people who were never close to the deceased are presumed fake for showing emotion. Y/N thinks they're a big joke... with a cruel, cruel punchline.

The sound of despondent music playing and cries ring throughout the cemetery as Phoebe's casket is lowered six feet into the ground. The unchecked emotions start to boil inside of Y/N. Anger boiling deep inside of her quickly reaching its point, anger that stems from betrayal, that stems from hurt, that stems from...loss. She quietly scoffs, shaking her head with a stone cold look, before quickly getting up and walking away from the ceremony as her late friend's uncle, Bill, wraps up his poor excuse of a eulogy.

Phoebe wouldn't have wanted this. She wouldn't have wanted people to cry over her casket, stuck laying in a padded box while people who don't even know the real her, speak of her existence like they were the best of friends. They weren't. She was. Y/N was her best friend. These people don't... didn't know her like Y/N does. It's all bullshit.

In Y/N's quick pace away from the tent around the damp open ground, she spots a bigger gravestone with a stone bench built into it and takes a seat.

She inhales deeply, taking a moment to herself to look up at the sky. The clouds that overcast part of the blue sky drifting farther away from the graveyard as the sun starts making its way to set. She breathes in, the delightful scent of honeysuckle and dewy grass filling her nose before it's tainted by fumes of petrol from the road just on the other side of the cemetery gates behind her. It's so unfair; why of all people did Phoebe have to-

"It's all a joke," A deep accent says to her left.

She almost jumps out of her seat when she turns to the man who took the empty spot next to her. Jesus Christ, where the fuck did he come from? she thinks to herself. He had brown curly hair and green eyes (well, thinking green from what she can gather staring at the side of his face), wearing a black suit with a black button up shirt underneath. Rings clad his fingers and the sunset gleam shines off his cross necklace. She stares wide-eyed at him for a few moments before shaking her head to get out of her daze.

"Huh?" She says when she realizes he had spoken before.

"It's all a big joke," He repeats himself, the British accent more noticeable this time around. His head faced towards the funeral, having not spared a glance at her once this whole time.

She settles back into her seat, shifting her gaze to match his with the group of mourning people in the distance.

"Yeah." Y/N sighs in agreement.

The two of them sit in silence for a moment before Y/N decides to speak. Thinking to herself that if anyone would listen to her thoughts, a man who's also ditching the shitty eulogy would be her best bet.

"They all talk about her as if she was God." She chuckles humorlessly.

He scoffs with a small smirk, "Far from it."

Another wave of silence crashes over them, before Y/N breaks it once again.

"She would've hated this," She whispers, "People she barely even knows crying over her like they had any significance in her life. She probably only talked to five people here. She didn't even like her uncle." She laughs, referencing the man who gave the half-assed eulogy about how Phoebe being such an innocent, bright young girl.

"They're grieving her loss instead of celebrating her life, it's all fucked," He clears his throat before continuing, "Funerals are for the living."

"I hate funerals..." She says in reply.

Glancing at the boy beside her when she hears him digging through his jacket pocket, pulling out a flask.  He takes a sip, and another, before gesturing it to her. Not overthinking it too much, she takes the cool metal bottle and takes a big gulp. Tasting the burn of vodka in her throat and mint from what she supposes is the mysterious strangers mouth.

Handing the flask back she says, "She would've wanted a party. Something where everyone was having fun in her honor, not some substandard funeral full of random people and careless words."

This time he's the one who chuckles humorlessly, "Yeah, she would've wanted everyone t'take shots and dress up in fancy clothes n' wreak havoc on this fucking town,"

Y/N smiles at this because Phoebe really would. Phoebe was the type of person who everyone wanted to be friends with, but also who everyone was scared of. She was mysterious and intimidating (a bit like the man next to her, Y/N thinks). Phoebe was a master at persuasion and could get almost anyone to go on crazy fucking adventures with her. One of Y/N's favorite memories with Phoebe was when they dressed up in wedding dresses they had gotten from a second-hand store and walked down the street yelling random things at strangers, taking turns drinking tequila from a metal water bottle.

"She really was something else, huh?" Y/N says a bit somberly, reminiscing on her late best friend.

"Definitely, a know-it-all," He laughs, bringing the flask up to his mouth.

"Oh, of course, she always thought she was right." She smirks.

"I mean, most of the time she was." He shrugs.  

"Yeah, how did she always know everything?" The two of you laugh, taking turns drinking from the flask.

He shakes his head in disbelief, silence settling over the pair again.

"How did you know her?" He asks, still staring at the gathering of people in the distance.

"...She was my best friend," Y/N responds quietly, still staring out at the sunset.

He hums in return, "You?" She asks as she hands the flask over.

"Her cousin." His rough voice speaks out.

"You're Harry?" She says, less as a question and more in disbelief. Phoebe always mentioned her cousin Harry from England, always telling Y/N of stories they had together getting into reckless shit.

She turns her head to look at him just as he does, "And you're Y/N."

He offers a soft, knowing smile, both having heard countless stories of one another from Phoebe. He leans back and extends his arm on the top of the bench behind her, feeling the warmth of his body radiate off of him.

"I wonder what she'd say to me now. Sitting on a random gravestone in our hometown, drinking out of her cousin's flask, ditching what's supposed to be her remembrance." Y/N says, leaning back on the bench too.

"She would've said, 'quit y'crying, it's a sign of the times' and then would drag your arse t'the nearest pub." He laughs.

She joins in on the soft laughter, shaking her head because she knows that's exactly what she would've said. Phoebe was such a joy to be around, her presence unmatched.

"You know, she always talked about wanting to leave a legacy behind. Most of the time, I just laughed at her, thinking it was just another bizarre thing to come out of her mouth. But, she was always saying she wanted to be remembered as some enigma when she dies..." Y/N recalls the many memories of her and Phoebe staying up til 4am talking. Chills suddenly covering her body, not only from the cool Winter air but because of how Phoebe had talked about her death and now she's actually...dead.

She turns her head to look at Harry and he has a bittersweet smile on his face.

"I think she's accomplished that quite well, hasn't she?" He replies.

"How?" She questions softly with furrowed brows.

"Well, f'starters, her funeral is full of people who never even knew her, or frankly even cared about her, while two emotionless people just got up and stormed away from it t'drink vodka out of a flask on some random person's gravestone." He laughs before tacking on, "Trust me, the people over there are wondering who the hell she was and who she knew, right about now."

She turns her head from the (quite pretty, she thinks) boy to her left, looking at the wake, only to be met with a few people staring back at them.

"Well, I'll be damned," She scoffs. "Of course, the bitch did it." A smile bright on her face, probably the only real grin she's pulled since Phoebe's passing. Her best friends wishes coming true makes her heart warm just a tad, a relief to how cold losing her best friend made it.

"Always able t'make her life seem like an episode of Pretty Little Liars." He says shaking his head with a knowing smirk.

This comment makes Y/N laugh quite loudly, drawing a few — what she could only think were glares — back at her. Wiping a stray tear from her face that fell due to her laughing. The sweet sound coming from her lips only tacking on Harry to join her.

"Oh my god, she practically lived in an indie movie, always the role of the mysterious main character!" She chuckled out, creases forming at the corners of her eyes that Harry has taken a liking to.

As both of their laughter slowly dies out, another silence comes over them; only this time it's almost deafening. It's like the weight of the matter finally settled in.

Harry lets out a deep sigh, staring out at the never ending field of stone. Flowers accompany very few of the many graves; some wilted, some looking fresh, some long gone by now. Name placards littering the ground, all of these lost and forgotten people just decomposing underneath them. People coming and going to visit, only to be forgotten as time goes by, memories fading from their loved ones' mind. He wonders if he could ever forget Phoebe. No, I could never, he thinks to himself. He could never forget the only person that ever truly believed in him and embraced him for being himself.

Deciding he doesn't want to give anymore thought to the painful insight that one day he might forget Phoebe, he asks Y/N something instead.

"Y'wanna get out of here? M'starvin'."

The quiet girl next to him looks his way, his green eyes meeting her's that shine in the last few minutes of orange sunlight. Her eyes are so pretty, he tries to mentally shake that thought out of his head. He can't be hitting on his late cousin's best friend at her funeral, for fuck's sake.

Y/N only nods in response, gathering her bag and phone before standing from the bench. Harry towers over her when he gets up and the observation of how tall her his makes Y/N feel all giddy inside for some reason. Placing the flask back in his suit jacket pocket, he leads the way to a small restaurant nearby. She walks beside him the whole way there, the two of them just quietly observing everything around them.

***

The crisp, cool air passes through, goosebumps creeping up their arms as they sit in the outside seating of a small restaurant. Comfortable silence wraps them up and spits them out as their minds explore all the vast depths of their troubled minds, giving them time for their treacherous thoughts to eat at their sanity bit by bit.

"Phoebe told me once," Y/N cleared her throat, trying to get rid of the scratchy feeling from not using it. Harry's green eyes moved to her from his observance of the lonely street they're next to as she spoke softly. "She told me the only time she truly felt alive was when she made decisions that were reckless and spontaneous. She said living her life precariously was the only reason for her happiness, claiming that the perfect life is just an illusion. That dreaming of labor should not be the goal, but instead becoming your authentic self and living with no regrets..."

Harry stays quiet, reflection in his eyes as he stares at her from across the table, chewing the food in his mouth. Y/N plays around with the food on her plate with her fork and waits for his acknowledgment (although, she doesn't even know if he would say or do anything -- she doesn't know why she decided to tell him that)

"I mean, she's right, righ'? I never understood when people would ask what your 'dream job' is from a young age. No one's dream is t'work everyday 'til they die. They have to, t'make a living and survive, but what's the point in living if you aren't enjoyin' it. But, if y'workin' all the time, how do you make the time to really live?" He says, furrowing his brows as he talks.

Y/N takes in his words. The moonlight and street lamps casting a soft glow on his face, his carved features looking even more beautiful at night.

"Yeah... I guess, I guess I just envy how she viewed life, ya know?" She states, looking at the cars drive by as she tries to explain how she feels. "Always saying things to make you rethink your existence and purpose..." She looks back at Harry and whispers, "...She talked about life so much like she knew she was going to die."

"Well, we're all gonna die eventually." Harry rests his arms on the table with a quiet sigh, his features passive, but his mind is thinking of how he just wants to hug her and tell her everything is going to be alright.

"Yeah, but she just...she talked about it like she knew all the answers. She knew exactly what to say, when to say it. Sometimes, I feel like she was telling everyone around her how to live in complete happiness because she knew she didn't have much of her own, despite convincing everyone she was carefree and unbothered." Y/N shrugs and watches as they fall into a short silence.

"...I miss her." Harry breathes out after a moment, reaching his hand across the table to hold hers. Her skin is soft against his as he rubs his thumb against her hand in an attempt to comfort both of them.

Her eyes soaking in his softened expression, her cherry tinted lips whispering, "Me too."

They eat the rest of their dinner in silence, the only sounds reverberating from the road with the occasional car or pedestrian. Harry pays for the food, but not without many protests from Y/N.

As the two walk side by side down the street, back to the cemetery to pick up their cars, Y/N suddenly falls anxious. She doesn't want to be alone tonight, scared of being alone with her thoughts when she goes back to stay in her childhood home. Her parents, still living in the house they lived in since her youth, had to drive up to another town for a few nights to stay with her cousins because they planned to go there before the news broke about Phoebe. Leaving Y/N alone in the empty house since there wasn't room for her at her cousins.

The black cemetery gates coming into view, eeriness and gloom becoming more apparent when the sun is down, Y/N and Harry can see their two cars sitting idly on the side of the road. Y/N fidgets with her fingers as they grow close to departure.

"D-do you, maybe, wanna hang out for a little while longer?" She turns to face him, looking up at him nervously. "I just don't want to be alone right now." She rushes out when he doesn't respond.

"Yeah, I didn't really want t'go home alone right now either." He offers a sliver of a smile before unlocking his car, grabbing two brown paper bags that look to hold bottles, and gesturing his head, "C'mon, we'll pick up my car later. Let's go celebrate Pheebz, yeah?" He grins.

She smiles at him, unlocking her own car and waiting for him to get in, putting on a playlist full of Phoebe's favorite songs. She drives through her hometown, memories stirring up of her and her best friend smoking weed in the park the summer before graduation and jumping in the lake naked in the middle of winter. The two end up at her house sitting in her abandoned driveway, both unbuckling but neither making the move to get out of the parked car, the engine still running as they sit listening to the melodies playing from the speaker.

Harry suddenly pulls out two bottles from the brown paper bags at his feet, one of vodka and the other tequila.

"Pick y'poison." He says with a smirk.

She picks the vodka and Harry mutters, "Good choice, tequila is more m'speed."

"Weren't you drinking vodka at the funeral?" She laughs, unscrewing the cap.

"Yeah, figured I'd drink Phoebe's favorite since it was her party." He chuckles.

"To Phoebe." Y/N says, sorrow lacing her voice as she turns in her seat to face Harry.

"To living your life precariously." He says before the two of them take a big gulp of the sharp liquid, starting what will only be the beginning of a long night.

***

Light shines through the white curtains, the room glowing bright in the soft, yellow sunlight. The white comforter tangled up in bodies as birds chirp in the morning tranquility. Y/N's eyes flutter open, immediately feeling sweaty and clammy. The headache that sets in reminds her of the amount of alcohol she consumed last night. Waking up in her childhood bed after blacking out in the backseat of her car the night before doing very little for her sanity.

As she lays in bed, groggy, she needs to pee. She moves to get up and walk to the bathroom connected to her room, only to freeze when an arm wraps around her and pulls her closer. Warm breathes pant at the back of her neck, unintelligible murmurs coming from the person behind her. Her eyes widen, realizing Harry is the one she is snuggling with in the early morning (afternoon?) light. Despite needing to pee really badly, she finds herself only melting into his touch. She can't remember the last time someone held her like this, can't remember the last time she felt this content. In fact, she thinks the last time she cuddled with someone was with Phoebe when she slept over in her room at their apartment... Well, just Y/N's apartment now.

Y/N and Phoebe would have movie nights in Y/N's room and in the midst of the fun, they would grow tired. Phoebe would never want to leave the comfort of Y/N's warm bed, so she always asked, sleepover?, with a wide grin. To which Y/N never refused and the two would put on The Notebook and fall asleep spooning one another. The first time it happened, when they were children having sleepovers, she tensed a bit; thinking it weird for her friend to cuddle her because no one had ever done that. But, as the years went by and their friendship grew stronger, knowing that despite both of them being bisexual it wasn't an act of intimacy, but one of platonic comfort.

So, Y/N figured (in her touch deprived mind) that this was just an act of friendly, platonic intimacy...nothing else. After coming to that conclusion, she let herself relax into his touch, his warm embrace nodding her off to sleep once again.

What wakes her up the second time is the sound of a gravelly voice groaning. The arm around her waist squeezes tightly before the body it's attached to tenses up. Harry tries to take in the position they're in -- his arm snuggling her close to his bare chest and legs intertwined with hers -- but his hangover headache clouds his mind too much to think about it. Only registering that he's never felt this comfortable with someone before, never felt someone so warm and cozy. He's cuddled lots of girls (and guys), has spent many mornings waking up in someones hold or holding someone in his, but they've never been as addicting as her. Never being so relaxing, so soft. He's about to just say, fuck it, and fall back asleep as to spend as much time with her in his clutch, but Y/N had stirred awake from his groaning and she really has to pee!

She slowly turns in his arms, their legs shifting apart, and is met with probably the cutest sight she's ever seen. His eyes are glassy and the green of his irises shine in the soft light. His lips pink and his face holding a hesitant look, like he thinks she might yell at him for accidentally ending up in his arms throughout the night, but she can also sense the underlying feeling of content reading on his face. The way his eyes soften when they meet hers and the way his hand involuntarily squeezes at her side. The serene feeling almost tangible as her childhood room becomes their own little world. All the responsibilities and pain of the outside fall ceased at the door decorated with heights of a growing Y/N.

"G'morning," His gravelly voice going straight to her heart, melting it at the beautiful sound.

"Good morning," She says in a raspy whisper, her throat dry from the alcohol and singing at the top of her lungs the night before.

She takes the quiet moment to look at his body, her gaze drifting from tattoo to tattoo, not realizing how many he has. She knew he had some from the ones on his hands yesterday, but she didn't know he had so many. His long sleeve button up had covered the view of the ones adorning his arms, but she looks at them now in awe, thinking how pretty they are.

She's about to tell him how much she likes the butterfly tattoo on his chest, when her bladder has other plans.

"I'm sorry, but I really have to pee," She bashfully smiles as she looks at him.

"Oh, m'sorry. Probably should've told ya' I'm a cuddler." He gives a small smile with embarrassment soaking his words, thinking he's made her uncomfortable.

"No need to apologize," Her eyes light up at his out of character shyness, "I am too, I just really have to go to the bathroom." The harmonious sound of her giggles soothing every worry in Harry's body.

He playfully sighs, "Fine, I guess I'll let y'go piss."

A smirk pulls at his lips as she rolls her eyes and gets up, but he can see the corners of her lips turn up.

She goes to the bathroom, doing her business and washing her hands. She takes the time to brush her teeth and wash her face, cringing when she looks in the mirror. She feels gross that she looked like this when Harry woke up with the resemblance of an angel.

When she's finished, she walks out back into her room, excited to get back into the warm bed (and hopefully cuddle with Harry some more, but she would never admit that out loud), but she's met with abandoned sheets and panic consumes her. Did he leave? Did I make him uncomfortable by waking up in his arms? He was the one to cuddle me and he joked about it! But maybe he was just trying to be nice so he could escape? Her mind starts to race a mile a minute of anxious thoughts before they're all suddenly wiped away at the smell of coffee wafting in from the open doorway.

She throws on a sweatshirt and socks and makes her way down the stairs of the familiar, yet foreign after spending so long away from home, house. Her sock clad feet pad on the hardwood floors as she walks into the kitchen, spotting Harry silently staring at a spot on the wall with a cup of coffee in his hand (he's using the same pink and green mug with a little ceramic pig sitting on the top of the handle that Phoebe would use every time she'd sleepover in high school).

She walks in quietly, coming up behind him and grabbing a cup of coffee for herself, noticing the two pain killers next to the pot (which made her heart swell if she's honest). He had heard her coming down the stairs, but despite her presence his focus is still on the spot on the wall. Taking a sip of her pick-me-up and swallowing the pills, she takes up space next to Harry, following his eyes that stare intently at a picture frame hanging up and her eyes immediately soften.

"That was freshman year," Y/N spoke delicately, staring at the picture herself, "We had both been asked to prom by these senior guys. I was ecstatic because no one had ever shown any liking to me, but Phoebe had played it cool, of course." Harry lets out a quiet breathy laugh because of course Phoebe didn't care.

"We spent weeks planning out how prom night would be. Imagining how the senior parties would be like and if the boys would kiss us by the end of the night or not. She came over at 9am the morning of the dance and we spent all day getting ready and laughing with each other. She had even done my makeup all pretty and I helped her get into her dress. I remember I laughed when she decided she was going to wear converse under her dress, and she almost convinced me to do it too because she said 'you're not gonna be the one laughing when we're at all the after parties and your feet are killing you'." A genuine smile forms on Y/N's face as she reminisces on the cherished moment.

"But, two hours before the dance, our dates cancelled on us and told us they were going with these senior girls." Harry scoffs bitterly, understanding how cruel teenage boys are.

"I remember I was so upset because the one time I thought someone actually liked me or thought I was pretty enough to go to prom with, had just made me a second choice..." She recalls to Harry, who is now looking at the side of her face as she looks at the picture of Phoebe carrying Y/N on her back, piggy-back style, in long prom dresses, dirty white converse peaking out from under both girls' dresses.

"So, she grabbed me by the arms and looked me in the eyes and said 'Y/N L/N, we are deserving of the love we wish for. No senior boys are going to make us doubt that. We are not little freshmen girls who can be seen as cheap thrills and easy hookups. We are women, who demand respect and complete infatuation.' Then she took the tickets that the boys had pre-purchased for us, took my hand, and dragged me to that dance. We had been each other's date and made prom our bitch. She even got us into a party afterward...And we had one hell of a night."

She smiles fondly at the sweet memory. Harry's eyes flutter between the picture and the beautiful girl next to him. How could she ever think of herself as a second choice?, is all he can wonder to himself.

Letting his gaze fall to the picture one last time, he mumbles, "Well, those boys missed out on the best thing t'ever happen t'them."

He doesn't catch Y/N's blush that creeps up on her cheeks as he turns around, taking a sip from his little pig mug.

She shakes her head as to get out of the crushing haze she falls into, turning and walking to the countertop, leaning against it as Harry stands in front of her on the other side.

"Thank you. F'letting me stay the night, last night." He speaks up.

Y/N notices how he's still lacking a shirt, making her mouth dry up just a little at the sight of how fit he is. The tattoos stretching across his tan skin so perfectly, the black ink creating such a beautiful contrast on his body. He catches onto the not-so-subtle gawking and smirks.

"Uh, yeah. It's really no problem. There's no way I'd have let you drive home intoxicated and it was the least I could do after I made you practically spend the day with me." She blushes.

"Y'didn't make me," He shakes his head gently with a smile.

Y/N doesn't know to feel about how her cheeks heat up at his remark, shyly looking away as the teasing gleam in his eyes might make her combust.

"O-okay. Good to know." She squeaks out, the action only fueling Harry's ego and playful mood.

"I should go get m'car from the cemetery before it gets towed," He says almost disappointedly, like he doesn't want to leave yet. If she's being honest, she doesn't want him to leave yet either.

"Yeah, that wouldn't be good. I'll give you a ride." She says, shaking off the saddened feeling of his departure.

"Oh, you don't have t'do tha'." He shakes his head but Y/N quickly shoots him down.

"Nonsense, I'll take you. It's no big deal."

He smiles at her objection, nodding, and going upstairs to grab the rest of his clothes, feeling uncomfortable in his dress pants from the funeral that he had put back on when he got up this morning, not wanting to make Y/N feel weird by staying in only his boxers.

***

Vodka Lover: hey... are you up?

She chews on the skin around her thumb, a nervous habit that Phoebe had always teased her about, as she sends the text to Harry (having exchanged numbers when she had dropped him off at his car at the cemetery). Phoebe had always said, 'You're not gonna have any thumb left to chew, babes, if you keep at it'. To which Y/N just rolled her eyes, but in the deafening silence of 4am, she wishes she cherished those moments with her best friend more. Wishing she didn't take for granted in those little encounters of Phoebe's care and concern with her well-being. Y/N would give anything to be able to spend one more minute with her.

Butterfly Boy: yeah, everything okay?

Vodka Lover: um, can i call you?

Suddenly, breaking the bitter quiet with a ringtone, her phone she holds in her palm lights up with Harry's contact. A tear falls from her face onto the screen and she has to wipe it away before she presses accept.

"Y/N?" Harry's deep voice rings out, laced in worry, from the other line.

She chokes out a sob, not being able to hold it back anymore. The floodgate of her emotions she has been trying to keep at bay suddenly burst. Salty tears fall onto the blue fluffy blanket from her senior year she's wrapped up in.

"Hey, hey, s'everythin' okay? What's wrong?" Harry says, more alert now that he hears her in such a fragile and frantic state.

Y/N just cries harder, desperately trying to catch her breath, she feels like she's suffocating.

"Hey, love, just breathe. Just breathe, Y/N." He tries to coax her down in a soothing voice.

A raggedy breath is heard on Harry's side, making the worry dissipate just a little now that he knows she's breathing. Harry sits up in his bed, calling out to Y/N, repeatedly telling her to just keep breathing. He can't get to what's wrong if she hyperventilates.

He was laying restless in his bed when she had texted, lost in thoughts of life and replaying memories with his cousin. Trying to grasp everything she's ever told him before, hoping that by watching the moments he spent with her like a film reel in his mind would help him not forget them.

"Love, can y'tell me what's got you so upset? Please," He asks softly when she calms down enough where her breathing is regular and not sporadic inhales gasping for air.

"I-I-I miss her," She cries out into the phone, the thought of embarrassing herself by breaking down to Harry not on her mind; the only thought she has is how empty she feels.

"I know, I know, love. I miss her, too," He sighs out sadly, wishing he could take away her pain, hating the way her voice quivers with every word. "Do you want t'talk about it?"

She wipes the tears that sting her eyes and cascade down her face with the sleeve of her sweatshirt. The one she wore when Harry slept over, smelling a little like him still from the car ride to his car that day, three days ago.

They had been texting each other and talking every day since then, usually about light topics like asking how their day's were or what they were doing. However, tonight (or early morning), everything felt like it was crashing down on her. Y/N's strong front she had put up since the funeral for Phoebe's family finally collapsed, and she's found herself stuck under the rubble. She was trying so hard to keep it in because she shouldn't be feeling sorry for herself when someone's kid is dead.

She had bored herself to tears, not knowing what to do. The only thing that seemed right was to call Harry.

"Talk to me, babe." He begs her, running a hand through his disheveled curls.

"I-" She sniffles, "I feel like I'm fucking drowning,"

He hates how defeated her voice sounds and he wishes he could just be there to hug her and tell her everything's going to be okay, eventually.

"It-it feels like my whole life is in ruins. Harry, I miss her." Her face scrunches up again as she starts to sob, "Sh-She was my best friend, I d-did everything with her. How am I s-supposed to do this without her? How am I supposed t-to live without her?"

"Oh, darling. I know, but you will..and you can." He frowns, racking his brain for the right thing to tell her, "You got t'live so you can experience all those ways of life she always talked about. Y'haven't experienced all those feelings Pheebz would mention when she would live her life precariously. Don't y'want to know how she felt when she would talk of such a beautiful life she lived, yeah?"

He hears a hiccup and a quiet, albeit breathy, yeah, from the other side of the call.

"You are so strong, Y/N. I don't know how y'made it this far without breaking down..." He tells her whole-heartedly.

"D-don't know how you haven't either," She gets out, realizing how selfish she's probably being, bothering Harry with her grief when he has his own to deal with.

"Honestly," He breathes out through a somber smile, "The only reason I haven't is because I have you, love."

Y/N's heart swells tenfold, she thinks. She didn't realize Harry needed her just as much as she needed him.

"...I'm sorry for calling you, I know it's late." She says through sniffles when she notices the time.

"There's no reason to apologize. It's okay, love. It's okay to hurt or be angry or upset. No one expects you to be perfect all the time." He pauses, listening to her breathing.

"Ya know, one day, it won't hurt this much. One day, you'll be able t'look back at this moment and it won't break y'heart as much as it does now. You're just in the thick of it right now, pretty girl. But, the light's coming soon, I promise." He continues and Y/N feels her heart beat faster at the pet name.

"You promise?" Her voice barely above a whisper and Harry thinks his heart just broke at the sound.

"Promise." He says, wiping the stray tears rolling down his cheeks, "Phoebe wouldn't want y'to be this upset. She would want you to keep living your life and find out the ways to how she was so in love with it. If not for yourself, love, then for her...F'me."

She nods, despite knowing he can't see. Silence falls over the pair, only the sound of bated breaths assuring the other one is there.

"One summer," He speaks up, "One summer, my family had come t'visit them, partly because of the lake near her house. It was after we had moved t'the States from Cheshire, and Phoebe and I would go walk to the little pond near the park,"

"The one near Hope?" She asks quietly if they had gone to the park she had always played at as a little girl.

"Mhm. We would walk there in the blistering sun and when we got there she tried to convince me how fairies were real." He said in a calm voice.

He hears an airy puff of breath escape her mouth, which he takes as a small giggle -- making him want to continue his story as it's helping her cheer up, and because he'd probably do anything to hear her that sound from her.

"Yeah, fairies. She told me that they live at the pond and t'see them, I would have to find a pretty flower and then jump in the water with it in only m'underwear." He breathes out a laugh.

Y/N gasps, trying to keep quiet but fails when she lets out a loud laugh.

"Oh my, did you do it?" She asks bewildered, laying down so her head rests against the pillow.

"So, I told Phoebe 'no way', yeah? But, then she said she can't just tell me about them and not follow through with seeing them. Convinced me that it would bring bad luck." He scoffs, remembering the memory vividly.

"Bad luck, indeed." She giggles and it brings the dimple out on Harry's face.

"Yeah, so of course, me being like 8 or sum', I stripped down to m'pants in the middle of the day and jumped in the water." He smiles when he hears her laughing, even if it's at his expense. "Y'laughing, but I think I got ringworm after tha'!"

"I can't believe she got you to do that! I wish I'd been there." Y/N says, out of breath from laughing.

"Scarred me of ponds for the rest of m'life." He chuckles and a pause takes them both over as they settle back down. 

"...Thank you, H." She whispers into the phone, adoration taking up all her features.

“F’what?”

“For being you, for being here. Just...Thank you.” She sighs. 

They get lost in recalling stories of their loved one for the rest of the night, repainting her memories in gold. They laugh with each other until all the pain seems to disappear. The weight, of what felt like the world, lifting off of both their shoulders. Finally being able to breathe after days of endless battles of trying to stay strong for Phoebe's sake.

***

Days pass since the lonely 4am phone call and Y/N and Harry are still talking everyday.

She finds out he lives in her city, only a few blocks from her apartment she shared with Phoebe! She didn't believe him when he first told her, but he said he was always busy with college whenever Phoebe tried to meet up. Y/N's not going to lie, her heart picked up when she found out he'd be so close to her, wondering if he'd want to hang out with her when they leave her hometown.

Almost everyday of the last few days they have visiting, they've spent at Y/N's empty childhood home. Harry asking her to explain pictures and what she was like in high school, whenever he gets the chance. In turn, she's been picking his mind on what Holmes Chapel was like and how his family was growing up. She found out that he lived with his sister, Gemma, and his mom, Anne. They talked about everything, from their favorite things to every pet they've ever had (Y/N, particularly, falling in love with the pictures of his cat, Evie).

Just as the last few days have been spent, they are spending Y/N's last day in her hometown together before she goes back. Harry told her he had to stay a couple more nights with his family before he could leave, assuring her he would've gone back with her if he could've. That comment made her blush and she had to pray the butterflies growing in her tummy to relax.

That's another thing. Y/N had stopped lying to herself and denying the ache in her chest that would form when she was away from Harry, growing very fond of him since their first encounter at the headstone bench.

Harry, also, couldn't deny any longer the way his heart would flutter at every little thing she did. Just wondering to himself how everything about her was just so pretty. He loved the way her eyes would light up every time she saw him and how he would catch her checking him out whenever he took off his shirt.

He especially loved the way she let him sleepover a few times and how they would end up cuddling into the late hours of the morning. Both parties not minding one bit, the comfort and warmth actually preferred than sending Harry home to sleep in his own bed.

"Bet I can reach that branch right there," Harry shouts with a gleeful tone, a bit out of breath as he tries to stretch his legs far enough so his shoe brushes against the leaf on the end of the tree branch.

The two of them decided to go to Hope park, where they both held fond childhood memories at. They settled at the swingset, calm swaying in the seats quickly turning into a competition of who could swing the highest. Harry won of course, his legs being much longer than hers giving him the advantage. Playful giggles and sweet conversations of things occurring in that moment help distract them from both Phoebe and the fact that Y/N is leaving.

Y/N is distracting herself from worrying about if Harry will reach out to her when they get back to the city, if he even wants to talk to her again after this weekend or if this was all just out of politeness.

Harry, on the other hand, is distracting himself from wondering if she fancies him. He wonders if the cuddles and small touches meant as much to her as they did him, if after this weekend she would want to hang out again or if she was just being nice because he knows what she's going through.

"Bet I can reach it before you!" She giggles as her hair whips around in the wind she's created. Pumping her legs back and forth, desperately trying to get higher so she can beat Harry in her made up competition.

"Now, love, not everything has to be a competition," He huffs, really reaching out this time, "But, I wanna win, if we're playing a game, I wanna win." He grins, the cute dimple that Y/N has fallen for making an appearance on his face.

The two try their hardest to be the first ones to touch the tree branch hanging not too far from their swinging feet at their highest point. Harry, however, attempts a little too hard and flies off the swing when he lifted up his leg to make the two inch gap he was short of.

Tumbling to the woodchip covered ground, he ends up laying on his back. Groans spill out of his mouth and Y/N's eyes go wide with concern. She slows herself down just enough to safely jump off the swingset, rushing to Harry's side.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" She asks worriedly, trying to hold back the laugh that's trying to bust out. Crouching down to him, she runs her hand over his arm that's grabbing his leg.

He rubs his knee with a pained smile, "Yeah, just peachy, pet."

"Is anything hurting? Bruised?" She questions with a loving smile.

"Just my ego," He chuckles, looking up at her and admiring her caring nature.

She can't hold it in anymore, she laughs loudly at his comment, her carefree happiness making Harry's ears perk up and his heart warm.

"Yeah, love, just laugh at the crippled man." He jokes, smiling up at her happy face, wishing it could stay that way forever.

She lets out another laugh at his comment, delicately grabbing his arm to help him up, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. It wasn't funny," She attempts to calm herself but fails, "Okay, it was a little bit funny!"

Giggles fall out of her mouth as Harry brushes off the mulch from his jeans, "See how much you're laughing when I push you out of the swing."

"I'm soo scared." She mocks fear.

"Oh, just wait, pet. You'll never be safe on another swing set again." He playfully grabs her sides to tickle her, but her fighting his tries just ends up bringing her closer in his hold.

Their laughs quickly die out when they realize he's holding her in his clutch, his hands at her waist, hers around his neck. Harry stares into her eyes as she stares back into his. The empty park is serene, no other noises besides the chirping of birds and the sounds of other animals sprawling about. The sweet moment causes Y/N's breath to hitch and her palms to sweat. They've only been this close when cuddling, she's never been this close to his face before. His features glow in the sunlight, his green irises complimenting the bounce of his skin and dark eyelashes. Her skin is soft and warm against his, and he just wants to lean in and-

Y/N's eyes flutter close as Harry's face comes closer, his lips meet hers in a gentle caress. With the sweet kiss, he takes note of how soft her lips are, how warm and fuzzy her intimate touch is making his head. While one hand is squeezing at her side, the other is brought up to cradle her face and she leans into his touch. Harry sucks on her bottom lip before peeling away so they can catch their breath.

Y/N lets out a whine at the loss of contact, her bottom lip jutting out as he pulls away.

"What are y'pouting for, pet? W-was that not okay? Should I not have done tha'?" The blood almost drains from his face at the pouty look on her beautiful face.

She shakes her head at him, "No, I liked it. I want more," She pants, pulling him by the collar of his shirt to bring him back to her lips.

He chuckles at her cute antics (and in relief of not fucking up his shot with her). He smiles against her lips as he melts back into her, her hand around his neck reaching up to tangle in his curly hair. He groans when her nimble fingers pull tenderly at the curls at the base of his neck, causing him to squeeze her side gently.

She breathlessly kissed him, slotting her lips between his and immediately opening her mouth in acceptance when he brushes his tongue against her bottom lip in a silent ask to take it further. As the kiss deepens, the need for air increases. They naturally separate, Harry sucking her bottom lip as he goes until it pops back.

Taking in her reddened swollen lips and her pretty flushed face, he presses one last chaste kiss on her lips, and one to her cheek and her nose.

A big, genuine grin adorns Y/N's face as she stares up at the man in front of her.

"Thank you f'letting me do tha'." He says with a gravelly voice.

"I've been thinking about you doing that since the first night you stayed at my house." She tells him bashfully.

"Me too, love. And it was better than I ever expected," He says whole-heartedly, leaning in to press one more quick kiss to her lips again.

"So, does this mean we're gonna hang out when we both go back home? Because I really want to do that again." Her glassy eyes blink at him with hope awaiting his answer.

He smiles and shakes his head, bewildered at how she could ever think that he could just ghost her after that, "I think Phoebe would come back just to slap me upside the head if I ever kissed her best friend and just never saw her again."

She chuckles at his comment, shyly looking down to her hand on his chest when he doesn't say anything else.

"Of course, I want to hang out when we get back. I want to take y'out on a real date, if you'd let me."  He looks at her all starry eyed, squeezing her waist.

"I think Phoebe would come back and slap me upside the head if I ever kissed her cousin and just never saw him again," This time he's the one that laughs.

"I'd love that very much, Harry." She beams up at him.

Going back home couldn't come sooner to the both of them.

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

ahhh i hope y’all liked that, i’d love feedback :) i’m thinking of making a series out of it, but only if that’s something y’all would like! so, pls let me know if you enjoyed it or if i should make a part 2 ?? 

anyways, stay safe and much love <3

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[five-rivers]

Like Kind

Prompt by @dp-marvel94: As soon as Maddie saw Phantom, she KNEW. It had happened, the thing that she dreaded and feared but in the back her mind knew would happen. Her Danny, her baby wasn’t human anymore….but then again he never had been completely human.

 In retrospect, she should have seen this coming from miles away.  Perhaps she had seen it, and her surprise now was the result of having willfully turned away.  But now, it was being rubbed in her face, thrown up in front of her in gleaming neon letters, staring her in the eye.  

The last was literal.  

Phantom floated a few meters above the ground, eyes fixed on hers.  

Phantom, who was undeniably Danny.  Her son.  Her baby boy.

He vanished from sight, flying up through the ceiling.  Maddie waited ten minutes, frozen and holding her breath, before sitting down hard on the floor.  She had thought—She had hoped—

(A memory plagued her.  Out with Vlad and Jack after Vlad was discharged, Jazz with a sitter. Red eyes where there should be blue. Panicked apologies.  Blood on the sheets and an ache radiating through her whole body.)

She had hoped.  

Had hoped that a child born to someone who had been possessed would be entirely human.  

(But even as a young child, something had been… not right about Danny.  He’d stared at empty corners, spoken to thin air, had a bizarre fixation on clocks. There had been other signs.  She’d dismissed them all.  But then.  Phantom.)

(She couldn’t ignore this.)

She went through the rest of the day, even the kidnapping of the mayor and a fight with a whole horde of ghosts in a daze.  Danny was there.  Fighting.  Doing these… these things.  And now she knew.  

Did Jack realize?  Had Jack put two and two together to realize that the boy he’d raised, the boy he’d taken as his own son, was now… this?

Was now a ghost?

.

“He’s our responsibility,” said Maddie, hands clasped under her chin.  She couldn’t meet Jack’s eyes.  “He’s our responsibility, and he’s giving in to his—to his nature.  What he did last night…”

“Maddie,” said Jack, reaching across the table.  “Just.  Stop.  Maybe… maybe there’s another way we can do this. Up until now, he’s been fighting the other ghosts, hasn’t he?  Maybe we could encourage that part.  Guide him to something less, less malevolent.”

“That’s what we thought we were doing from the beginning,” said Maddie.  “It hasn’t worked, Jack.”

“That’s when we thought he was still human,” said Jack. “We can—We could invent something. To help him control his—”

“This isn’t a movie, Jack,” snapped Maddie.  “He isn’t a vampire we can feed animal blood or a werewolf we can lock up during the full moon.  He’s a ghost.  This isn’t going to get better.  It’s going to get worse.”

“We don’t know that,” protested Jack.  “We could at least try, couldn’t we?  Don’t we owe him that?”

“Jack…”

“He’s our boy, Maddie.  We can’t just give up on him.”

“It’s already getting worse.  You’ve seen his grades.”

“It might not be because of intellectual degeneration,” said Jack, urgently.  “If you suddenly found out about—” he waved his hand vaguely “—wouldn’t you have some trouble focusing on schoolwork?  I know I had enough trouble when I was in school…”

“This isn’t the same,” said Maddie.  

“I know, that’s my point.”

Maddie covered her face and sighed.  “Alright,” she said.  She couldn’t let herself hope again.  “We’ll… we’ll try it your way, first.  What do we tell Jazz?”

.

“You already know?” asked Maddie, aghast.  

“Yes, I saw him transform, once, but I thought it would be better to let him come to me, tell me on his own terms.”  Jazz licked her lips.  “Does this mean you’ll stop shooting at him?  Maybe be more supportive of what he’s trying to do?”

“Jazz, he kidnapped the mayor.”

“I’m not sure he did.  A lot of people were possessed this past week.  The mayor could have been one of them.”

Maddie closed her eyes and swallowed, suppressing the feelings that rose in her at Jazz’s casual pronouncement.  

“I mean, a lot of people at school were talking about how little they remember…  Mom, are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”  She collected herself.  “Ghosts,” she said, “aren’t human.  They don’t have a human psychology.”

“Danny’s still human.”

“Partially.  For now. We don’t want to lose him to this. Will you help us?”

Jazz looked away, frowning.  “Even if ghosts are different,” she stressed the word, “that doesn’t mean they’re evil.  The wolf ghost helped Danny, didn’t it?  And Danny’s doing good.  I don’t think you should try to ‘fix’ him.  It isn’t right.”

Jack jumped in.  “That’s not what we’re doing,” he said, reassuringly.  “We just want to make sure that he stays himself.  That this doesn’t affect him negatively.”

“But you don’t want me to tell him that’s what you’re doing.”

“Based on recent events,” said Maddie, “we’re concerned that he’ll react poorly and run.  We just don’t want that to happen.  We can’t help him if he runs from us.”

Jazz bit her lip.  “Okay,” she said, finally.  “But you can’t do anything to Danny that he doesn’t want.  No experiments.  No tearing him apart molecule by molecule.”

“That isn’t—”

“Don’t tell me it didn’t cross your mind,” said Jazz, harshly.  “You talked about it at the table at breakfast.  More than once.  I’m keeping an eye on everything you do.”

It was better than her running to the police or trying to free Danny right away because she couldn’t understand.  

“Alright,” said Maddie.  

.

It was a good thing Danny’s physiology hadn’t changed enough to give him a resistance to simple sedatives.  Watching him nod off in the middle of dinner was as cute as it was tragic.

Jazz was… unhappy.  Clearly.  But she didn’t say anything.  

.

Danny knew he was in lab as soon as he woke up.  The buzz of the overhead lights and the hum of the portal made his hair stand on end and his mouth go dry.  

This was bad.  This was a nightmare made real.  

He didn’t move.  Maybe, if they thought he was asleep, they’d hold off on the dissection.

Although… he didn’t seem to be on the examination table. That was a good sign, right?  IT had to be a good sign.  

“Danny.”

His breath caught in his throat and his fingers curled on the surface beneath him.  It wasn’t metal.  Something… not quite soft.  But not hard. Like… a thin air mattress.  

“Danny, we know you’re awake.”

He screwed his eyes shut even tighter.  

“Please don’t hurt me,” he said.  “I’m me.  I’m really me.  I promise.”

“We know,” said Jack.  

That made Danny open his eyes.  “You do?” he asked, hopeful despite the fact he was in a box with thick, plastic walls.  He pushed himself up on the bench.  “Then why—” He was almost hyperventilating.  

“Danny,” said Maddie, “Danny, calm down.  We’re just- We know you’re Phantom, and we’re here to help you.”

“We know how hard it must have been for you, fighting those ghostly urges,” said Jack.  “But we’ll find a way for you to beat ‘em back, son.”

“I don’t- I’m not—” He shook his head.  “If you’re talking about the robberies—”

“That’s exactly what we’re talking about,” said Maddie.  “But it’s okay.  We’re going to keep anything like that from ever happening again.”

Danny bit his lip and felt despair clutch at his heart again.  They weren’t going to listen to him.  But—Jazz. Jazz would notice he was missing. She didn’t even believe in ghosts, not really.  She’d save him.  Or Sam and Tucker would look for him.  

He just had to hold out.  Even if they thought he was… succumbing to his ‘ghostly instincts,’ they wouldn’t hurt him.

Right?

.

“It isn’t working,” said Maddie, head in her hands, surrounded by crumpled by pieces of paper.  “He’s getting worse.”

Jack had to admit that he was.  It was tragic to watch his son fall to what could only be described as a ghostly Obsession.  Just last night Danny had been reduced to clawing at the inside of the containment unit. Crying.  Screaming to be let out to fight ghosts and ‘protect the town.’  

He… didn’t know what to do about it.  Any of it.  

“Maybe…” said Maddie.  “You remember what he said about the portal.  What if he was right?  What if he really…”

What if he really died?

“What if he did?” asked Jack.  “What would it change?”

“He’s not really alive,” said Maddie.  “If he isn’t… maybe we should… let him go.”

“W-what? You mean give up on him?” demanded Jack.  “We can’t do that!”

“No!  Not give up.  Never give up.  But- but maybe it would be better for him if he, if he was among like kind.  If he was…  We don’t have to destroy ghosts after all.  We just have to… have to put them on the other side of the portal.  Close it.  Close it so no more ghosts can get through.”

“You can’t be saying what I think you’re saying,” said Jack.  

“Like kind,” said Maddie.  “You remember that one Grimm’s fairy tale.  The little boy who couldn’t move on.”

“That’s not Danny,” said Jack.  

“I know.  I know it isn’t.  But, still… We…  Please, Jack.  Just… Tell me, what can we do?”

.

Danny tumbled head over heels into the Ghost Zone. He stopped, turned around, sending a blast of ectoenergy from his foot to accelerate himself back towards the portal.

He was too late.  The portal doors slammed shut, then winked out of existence.  

They were gone.  Danny was stuck here.  In the Ghost Zone.  

Fine.  

You know what?  Fine.  

He was here.  He was stuck here, because he didn’t know where or how to find natural portals. He didn’t know what was happening back home in Amity, and he was half out of his mind with worry about it.  

Fine.  

They thought he was a ghost.  A terrible, evil ghost.  Something to be cast off and thrown away.  

Fine.  

He was a ghost.  And he’d be the best ghost.  Ever.

#danny phantom #phic phight #phic phight 2021

[mythicamagic]

“Call it a truce”

(For the prompt if you’d like)

They'd crossed paths eight times now inside the godforsaken maze. Naraku had placed them under some sort of spell- Kagome wasn’t totally sure if her friends were also somewhere inside. It had all happened way too quickly. One second she’d been fighting alongside her comrades- the next, waking up inside a bizarre hellscape.

Sadly the only person she’d seen thus far was Sesshoumaru of all demons. When they’d first bumped into each other- blue and gold had narrowed- both quickly turning in the opposite directions.

Gradually, however, time wore on. A continuous mist obscured every corner of the black maze, its towering walls strangled by twisting, thorny vines. Red skies hung overhead, a barrier likely preventing Sesshoumaru from flying upwards, otherwise he would've escaped by now.

Kagome had just one arrow and one weathered bow. No food, and no water. Just the clothes on her back and strung out nerves, wits starting to fray at the edges. Her footsteps sounded too loud in the empty space. The mist kept rolling, making her paranoid- imagining salivating demons and evil spirits haunting her steps.

Am I going to die in here?

Gritting blunt teeth, Kagome let out a frustrated noise- wrapping her hands around the nearest thorny vines and letting reiki burst free from her fingertips. Maybe she could just blast her way through the wall. Pink light glowed like a signal flare, shimmering and giving her a brief taste of renewed hope.

“It will not work.”

She frowned, registering Sesshoumaru’s acerbic tone. Just as he’d said, when her holy light died, the thorns remained.

Kagome glanced over her shoulder, finding him closer than expected. She shifted warily to maintain some distance. They’d refrained from talking so far during their encounters in the maze. This was unexpected. And worrying. If Sesshoumaru was out of options, things were dire.

“Flying is a no go, I’m guessing?"

He stiffly nodded in response, head tilting back to gaze hatefully at the high walls. Kagome shivered, wrapping both arms around herself. “Damn it. I have no idea what to do. I can sense Naraku’s youki but it's everywhere so there's no chance of pinpointing him. It’s soaked into the air like gasoline."

"I am also unable to locate the wretch."

Kagome blinked, glad he was reciprocating conversation.

"We're locked in a spell or under a curse, I’ve got no doubt about that. I just don’t know if these are our real bodies or not…”

Were they trapped somewhere mentally? Caged like birds?

Sesshoumaru levelled a look down to her hands, gesturing with a claw. “The cuts do not hurt?”

Kagome blinked, flexing her fingers. She hadn’t even realised they’d been pricked by the thorns. “N-no.”

“Then it appears he has either somehow trapped us within a space that has absorbed our conscious minds or put us in an area that dulls the senses. Perhaps a keeper box of some kind," Sesshoumaru said easily, as though he did this all the time.

Kagome’s heart pumped at a dizzying speed. Keeper box. She'd been in one of those before. The face of sage Tokajin came to mind. “Crap,” she whispered.

"Unpleasant memories, miko?" a lofty, entertained tone brushed her hearing.

Kagome sneered half-heartedly, "it's nothing."

Sesshoumaru's eyes glowed, smiling. As if he could see right through her. "Hn."

“We gotta get out of here," she said dismissively. "Since this is Naraku we’re dealing with- I doubt just finding the centre of this maze will let us get outta here and break the curse, and knowing him there’s no exit.”

“Hn, and yet I can think of nothing else after trying everything."

Kagome gave him a sweeping glance over, swallowing. She hadn’t seen him since he’d nearly killed Kohaku- still thankful he’d released the mind controlled boy.

They were still technically enemies despite a shared goal of killing Naraku.

Steeling herself, Kagome took a breath. She then boldly stuck a hand out towards him. “Let’s work together. We haven’t got much choice. Call it a truce.”

Silence.

Kagome chanced a look at his face.

Sesshoumaru merely stared at the offered hand unblinkingly. Kagome giggled weakly. “A-ah, you shake it. It’s an ‘across the seas’ type of gesture to show we’re sealing a deal.”

Interest livened his animalistic gaze. He briefly seemed considering, perhaps wondering about her origins. Long fingers unfurled from his palm, clasping her hand strongly. The shock of skin to skin contact and sharp claws nearly jerked Kagome enough to rip her hand free. She forced herself to stay still, feeling a surge of something shoot down to her toes.

He was warmer than expected. It surprised her that callouses roughened his palm, likely from years of swordplay. She'd always figured he was too inhumanly perfect to have such a thing. Sesshoumaru blinked slowly, remaining locked in a stare. For a moment, Kagome dumbly admired his pretty white lashes.

She caught herself staring and briskly shook his hand, prying her fingers free before gesturing to several pathways, cheeks red. “S-so which way?”

Mokomoko’s soft fur caressed the bare flesh of her lower thigh in passing as Sesshoumaru stepped towards one. “I have yet to take this path. Stay close, troublesome miko," he threw over one shoulder. "I will not slow down for you.”

“Please don’t. You walk slow enough as it is,” Kagome griped, following.

---

Demons began littering the narrow, claustrophobic spaces within the maze. Kagome had to duck and weave around Sesshoumaru as he killed them with acid or fierce swipes of his claws. It forced them to get up close and personal, occasionally plastering miko and Daiyoukai together.

His scent wafted into her unwilling nose more than once- masculine and sharp, reminding her of thunderstorms. Since she couldn’t use her reiki with much finesse yet and the close quarters put her archery skills at a disadvantage, Kagome tried her best to be helpful.

“Behind you!” she’d yell, ducking under his arm before grasping his sleeve. “On your right!”

Sesshoumaru dispatched enemies without argument or complaint, calmly moving on once they lay dead.

As time dragged on, Kagome’s legs began to ache from the endless walking. Her stomach grumbled near constantly. Her limbs and body were becoming weak.

She didn’t breathe a word about it- though noticed Sesshoumaru’s lingering attention. Turning a corner, she stumbled, an arm catching her around the waist, steadying.

Kagome’s belly fluttered, and she quickly straightened. “Thanks.”

“Hn.”

They book occasional breaks, but respite was near impossible with the continued droves of enemies. After what she could only guess to be at least 17 hours- though it felt like days, they finally arrived at the centre of the maze. Exhausted, Kagome kept a hand buried within mokomoko to keep her upright, leaning against the stability he offered. They’d shed a lot of restraint about touch around hour 9 of their journey.

As first suspected however, there was nothing in the middle of the maze. Just a plain space with a single fountain. They hadn’t come across a single exit either.

Kagome’s knees quivered a little, “d-do you have a plan B?” she rasped, throat dry. What she wouldn’t give for some water.

Sesshoumaru stared grimly ahead, slowly lowering his calm attention to her. If she could hazard a guess, he was likely thinking he could survive. He’d weather the storm of hunger and dehydration much longer than she.

“I suspect the reason Naraku lingers is because he predicted I would kill you,” his velvety voice was completely at odds with his words.

Kagome stiffened, leaning slightly away from the warmth of luxurious furs. “...That would make sense,” the admission slipped out, “he’s a sadistic prick. He’s probably watching us right now, getting his kicks from seeing us struggle.”

Sesshoumaru turned to her, lifting a clawed hand. The sharp points gleamed. They could tear through her supple flesh and bones with ease. Kagome had witnessed it enough times to know.

Rendered completely exhausted though, she had little room left for fear. She stared at him blandly, falling quiet.

He arched a brow, resting those deadly claws against her flushed skin, gradually unfurling to hold her neck. “You will not resist?”

“I’ve never taken you to be the kinda guy who would take the easy way out,” Kagome muttered, raising her chin. “Am I wrong?”

Was it her imagination or did his pupils dilate a touch?

She shivered, feeling the pads of his fingers drag against the nape of her delicate neck, thumb resting at her throat.

“No,” he rumbled softly, gripping tighter and drawing her in closer. “But since we have an audience, miko,” his voice lowered, “let us give him a show.”

Blue eyes widened- seconds before lips crashed to hers. Kagome gasped- and a sinuous tongue took advantage, shoving inside to plunder her mouth. Sensation slammed into her gut. Suddenly she was immediately aware of everything. The warmth of his palm, the dry rub of his callouses along her neck. The goosebumps rising on her flesh. How his tongue skilfully played, twined and slid against her own- and she found herself responding.

His lips were hot and quick across her own, firm and yielding and then parting to meet her tongue with his anew. Kagome’s breath shuddered. Her entire body thrummed. She found herself touching the fine, soft locks of silver hair behind his ear, strands running through her fingers like water. Their mouths broke apart, and Kagome could only give a breathy gasp as he sucked along the bent arch of her throat.

“Behind me, to the left,” he whispered, kissing her flesh bruisingly hard.

“I know,” she panted.

It happened quickly. They moved in sync- Kagome reaching for her bow and nocking her single arrow while Sesshoumaru turned, angling her to fire at the faint ripple in the sky they’d both sensed the second they’d kissed.

While the blazing firework of pure holy energy streaked into the air, the Daiyoukai followed its progress, flying with Kagome in tow. She held on around his shoulders, praying with all her might it would break through.

Her arrow pierced the demonic barrier- shattering the weak spot immediately. Sesshoumaru broke through, leaving the world of red skies and unsolvable mazes behind.

---

Kagome sucked in a gasping, strangled breath, shooting upright.

“Kagome! She’s awake, guys!”

Putting a hand to her head, she looked to her side- only to be greeted with the sight of Sesshoumaru sitting up from the ground, both of them having been sprawled out. Around them, battle raged. Inuyasha was fighting diligently, swiping madly at continuous rounds of regenerating tentacles.

Miroku and Sango seemed to be on guard duty, having been defending their unconscious bodies. Shippo immediately buried his face in Kagome’s arm, holding onto her. “You’ve been asleep for a good hour after you were both hit by that attack! Naraku kept trying to kill you! Ah- I’m so glad you’re safe!”

Kagome comforted him with a few gentle pats upon his head, murmuring softly. The shifting of weight caught her attention, and she watched as Sesshoumaru stood. He sneered softly to himself, “I do not know why you saw fit to protect this one, but I did not need your aid, humans.”

“I told ya!” Inuyasha shouted from somewhere in the distance.

“We couldn’t let you be absorbed by Naraku or he’d be even more formidable,” Sango griped.

“What my friends mean to say is- you’re welcome, Lord Sesshoumaru,” Miroku amiably smoothed over the situation.

Sesshoumaru grunted, securing his swords in place. Then, slowly, his eyes lowered.

Kagome exhaled a shuddering breath. Her heart slammed against her ribcage, cheeks burning with all the voracity of a fever, chest light and heavy all at once. Sesshoumaru’s gaze fell to the subtle parting of her mouth, before looking her in the eye for just one more lingering moment. He then moved out from behind the protection Sango and Miroku offered, racing headfirst into battle.

He just did it to break the spell, that’s all.

He’d kissed her to help flush out a weak spot from their enemy, which had opened from Naraku's shock- having lost brief control of the spell. Thinking about it as anything more than that would be foolish.

Shaking herself, Kagome followed suit. She grabbed her bow and nocked an arrow, pushing down all confused thoughts and sensations that Sesshoumaru’s wicked mouth had elicited- entering the fray alongside her friends.

#sesskag #sesshoumaru x kagome #sesskag fanfiction #sesshoumaru #kagome higurashi

[translightyagami]

James “translightyagami/avoidfilledwithcelluloid” Death Note Fic Masterlist

Hello to all you guys out there. Here is my full masterlist of allllll the Death Note fanfic I’ve written: There are over 120 fics contained within this entire list. I’m going to split it up by chapter fics, one-shot fics, short fic compilations, and gift fics I’ve done for fandom exchanges. The descriptions will tell you what the pairings are (mostly Lawlight, but there’s other stuff too). There are several posts of mine that are loosely defined fic, but I won’t be adding those in this post as they are just … hard to organize lol.

Fics are marked with E if they have explicit content and T if there are textual references to transgender characters. Chapter fics are marked as either complete or currently incomplete. Okay! Here we go! 

[UPDATED 11/20/2021]

CHAPTER FICS

sit and stay awhile https://archiveofourown.org/works/31032719 complete Light has a fantasy of sitting in L’s lap, and he’s got a plan to make that a reality.

the art of ink and flowers  https://archiveofourown.org/works/35106943 currently incomplete, E, T Light needs an apprentice and thinks he's found the perfect one in young firecracker Mello. Now to deal with Mello's uncle, the strange, mysterious, and - oops! - super hot florist Ryuzaki, who doesn't want his nephew near a tattoo parlor. What could possibly go wrong?

i could write it (better than you ever felt it) https://archiveofourown.org/works/13913043 currently incomplete Light works in the To-Oh university library, where he meets his favorite romantic mystery author, Eraldo Coil, who later reveals himself to be the great detective L. Through the course of their working together to solve a crime, Light finds he might have feelings for L and those feelings might be shared by the detective novelist.

your heart is an empty cup https://archiveofourown.org/works/13027707 currently incomplete Light is the assistant manager of a Starbucks in NYC, and L is one of his most annoying customers. When L accuses Light (correctly) of being Kira, as well as mysteriously asking for his help on a different case, the barista has to decide if he’s ready to get in bed with the enemy – maybe even literally.

the forest holds strange creatures https://archiveofourown.org/works/16442660 complete, E, T Light, a paranormal research grad student, comes to a small town trying to find a mysterious cryptid. He finds L, a 10-foot-tall tree creature, who helps Light discover the greatest cryptid of all: love. The only reason this one is in the chapter fic section is because it includes a Halloween special chapter with the intro of Beyond Birthday into the cryptid AU.

At Your Service https://archiveofourown.org/works/19229524 complete, E, T The Yagami family owns the sprawling, exclusive Hotel Kitsune where all sorts of international espionage agents make their temporary home. That includes the great detective L, whose romantic tension with Light comes to a boiling point when he comes to stay after a long absence.

best practices https://archiveofourown.org/works/21113519 complete, E, T Light has been working his way to the top of the corporate ladder thanks to his own hard work, and his more-than-close relationship with L, the company CEO and founder’s son. Their relationship comes to a head when L challenges Light to open himself up, making him vulnerable to showing the true depth of what he feels for L and his own desire to explore sexual power dynamics.

ONE-SHOT FICS

tell me the truth https://archiveofourown.org/works/12592320 E, T Light and Matsuda hit up a bar after work, and then Light hits up Matsuda for sex, praise, and a distraction from the deep emptiness inside him.

constricting https://archiveofourown.org/works/13721580 E, T Light breaks L’s favorite tea cup in their kitchen, and L eats him out because he loves his husband so much.

tell me I’m good https://archiveofourown.org/works/13986861 E In the middle of the night, L receives a drunk call from Light, hiding in the bathroom at a party. The call, turning from desperate to horny, reveals more about Light than L wanted to know.

if at first you don’t succeed https://archiveofourown.org/works/15119816 E, T Light gave his first blow job and accidentally bit L on the dick. He tries to make up for his mistake by trying again.

let me work on you https://archiveofourown.org/works/15884799 E, T As the result of losing bet to him, Light has to be L’s computer desk – naked and laying over his boyfriend’s lap. Of course, when L gives him another sexy challenge, Light can’t help but rise to the occasion.

alterations https://archiveofourown.org/works/17945957 E, T Light comes to visit his boyfriend Mikami at his fancy law office and suggests they have sex there. When Mikami reacts unfavorably, Light has to do damage control, and it smarts a lot more than he expected.

lizard https://archiveofourown.org/works/18552499 E, T Light meets a beefcake guy at a bar on the anniversary of L’s death, and lets him take him home (Lizard is my death note OC, and the fic was a wonderful commission from @queerical​)

Buried Alive https://archiveofourown.org/works/19705540 L and Light live together in L’s underground bunker after the apocalypse scorches the Earth. They watch some VHS tapes and do some gardening.

Our Little Secret https://archiveofourown.org/works/23822881 E After getting his memories, his freedom, back, Light wants to give L a gift: Kira tied up at his mercy. But L isn’t so sure if that gift is the one he really wants.

The Light of the Moon https://archiveofourown.org/works/25052722 E, T L is a vampire and accidentally bites Light, who is haunted by dreams that make him question why he wants L to bite him again (and maybe … something more …)

little animals https://archiveofourown.org/works/26829778 E Light and his werewolf boyfriend L fuck in their backyard garden.

Change OR the one where L and Light get married https://archiveofourown.org/works/27748159  E, T A gift/commish fic for @ohgodplsdontlook​. Six years after the Kira case closes, L and Light go have a wedding in the mansion where L spent his childhood summers. They bring the Yagami family, their baggage, and vows to share each other’s secrets.

a divine power https://archiveofourown.org/works/28018197 E L has a particular power that has helped him get confessions from even the most hardened, tight-lipped criminals, and he offers to use this power on Light to get an honest answer to the question "Are You Kira?" Not really believing L's power is real (and also smelling an easy way to lie his way out of being caught) Light agrees to submit to this bizarre investigative power - not realizing that L is about to make him a *very* honest man. (TL;DR, L has a Magic Cock That Makes Anyone He Fucks Fall in Love With Him AU.)

Possession https://archiveofourown.org/works/29232294 E After being killed by his family for being Kira, Light makes a deal with the demon L to get back to the mortal realm - a very, very sexy deal.

24-Hour Gym https://archiveofourown.org/works/29415480  After the yellow warehouse goes (mortally) in their favor, Light and Mikami frequent the same 24-hour gym. Eventually, after seeing all his work out skills, Light asks Mikami if he can bench press *Kira*.

Fantasy of a Fantasy https://archiveofourown.org/works/29729685  E, T While monitoring the Yagami family home for suspicious activity, L catches Light getting off to a dirty magazine and projects what he thinks his main suspect's fantasies might be.

the chains that bind us https://archiveofourown.org/works/32051299 E, T  Obligatory post-Yotsuba arc fic where Light is released from the handcuffs, and wants desperately to be back in bondage with L. Features a very creative use of the handcuff chain.

Kept https://archiveofourown.org/works/33334282 E, T Omegaverse AU where Light cooks up a horny evil scheme so that L won’t throw him in jail, and also lets him get that alpha lovin’ he so desires.

so glad you’re home https://archiveofourown.org/works/33977605 E, T L returns from a solo case and he and Light have a purr-fect homecoming together - including some spanking, cat ears, and a shower of sappy affection. 

SHORT FIC COMPLIATIONS

hand in unlovable hand https://archiveofourown.org/works/15025058 E Okay so I’ve been answering Tumblr askbox prompts for over 2 years now, and this? This is ALL of the Lawlight fics. There are over 70 Lawlight fics in this compilation, with all the nsfw fics marked as such. Here are somethings you’ll find in this horde: an AU where L is fat; dirty talk; ghost sex; phone calls about buying a house; early morning tea; kissing; spanking; bondage; L’s hair being brushed; and much, much more. If you have wished for a particular type of Lawlight fic, it is probably in this bunch.

Containing Multitudes https://archiveofourown.org/works/17570645 E Like i said, I’ve been answering all types of Tumblr prompts. These are all the multi-pairing fics that are not Lawlight. In over 20 fics, you’ll find Mikalight, Light/Misa, Misa/Takada, Misa/Rem, Light/Namikawa, Beyond/Light, Light/Matsuda, and even a few ones with Light and my DN OC Lizard. All nsfw fics are marked as such.

hereditary https://archiveofourown.org/works/17159354 All the Tumblr prompt fics I wrote specifically about the Yagami Family. About 4 fics long, includes a really nice couple of Sayu and Light sibling sadness fics.

bottom shelf erotica https://archiveofourown.org/works/20899706 E These are the 5 fics that I wrote to fill Death Note kinkmeme prompts. They are few frills, dirty, sloppy, all bottom Light smut fics. Also, since I didn’t want to give myself away on kinkmeme they’re all cis stuff. (because really who else would have been throwing trans smut up there?)

something between us (anyway) https://archiveofourown.org/works/30304620 T, E a slowly updating collection of 10 tumblr fic requests I received for the pairings of lawlight and (my DN OC) lizard/light, covering prompts including omegaverse, coffee shop AU, sexy lingerie, and much, much more.

kinktober 2021 https://archiveofourown.org/works/34235686 E, T updated each saturday of Oct. 2021, these five fics all revolve around lawlight and specific kinky prompts.

GIFT EXCHANGE FICS

your father’s son https://archiveofourown.org/works/15115568 T A Secret Shinigami 2018 gift for AbbodonAbandon. Light and Soichiro have a talk about why Light quit the tennis team. Lots of trans shit in here.

in your shoes https://archiveofourown.org/works/22405516 E A Sexy Enquirer 2019 gift for @pashmina-dhaage​. L is a professor who is having a quiet relationship with one of his grad students, Light. When he sees Light through his office window stepping in mud, L rushes to give him the shoes off his feet.

wash it out https://archiveofourown.org/works/22405648 A Sexy Enquirer 2019 gift for @complicatedmerary​. Mikami and Light, a pianist and violinist respectively with the same opera company, are carrying on a passionate affair while Light remains married to the opera’s soprano, Misa.

Thank you for Reading, Commenting, and Being Nice to Me About My Silly Fic!

#me me me #subtextual #death note #lawlight #my fic #death note fanfiction #woof! okay! #i know i'm posting at the worst time #but i'm gonna pin this so everyone can see

[theinkmage]

Home

"Do you wonder?"

"Wonder what?"

"Wonder what we would become."

"I leave that up to fate. It's not really my place to decide."

"It can be." The hero said, reaching up to cup the other's face in his palms, forcing him to look directly into his eyes. Brilliant purple meeting stormy grey, like the sizzling flash of a lightning bolt on the cusp of dawn. "If you let it."

The villain looked away, pursing his lips. "Not everyone is as lucky as you."

The hero sighed, his hands falling away, fingers tapping listlessly against his thighs. "That I admit, but my point still stands." After a pause, he continued, "If I didn't know better, I would think you were scared of failing. That would most certainly explain your reluctance to meddle with fate."

He could almost predict the villain's response to that.

"I'm not scared of anything," the villain snapped, glowering at the city that sprawled before them from the rooftop of the building.

The hero had guessed right after all.

"And fate is fixed. It's supposed to be inevitable because it's determined by the cosmos. You can't change it." There was a hint of desperation there, barely, but the hero had known the villain long enough to pierce through his veiled attempts at subtlety.

"Yes…" the hero said slowly, staring resolutely at the villain.

"I sense a 'but' coming."

"But…" the hero let a faint grin slip onto his face. How he had missed these friendly banters with the villain when they were younger. "Destiny isn't."

The villain blinked, the epitome of baffled. "Destiny isn't what?"

"Destiny isn't fixed. It isn't determined by the cosmos. Even if your fate was given to you at birth, you don't have to follow its course. You can change it, by embracing your destiny."

The villain looked ready to argue, but the hero jumped in before he could. "And who's to say what's what? All we have are pre-conceived notions that are rubbed off onto us from the people we are surrounded with. They may be right, they may be wrong. For all you know, your notion of fate may be wrong."

"If you go according to that bizarre philosophy of yours, everything's going to end up wrong, you nitwit."

The hero snorted, his lips quirking up to the side. "The sky's grey."

"No, it's black."

"How do you know that the colour of the night sky is black and not grey?"

The villain scowled. "I just do."

"Oh really? Do you know what makes you happy in life then?"

"The two are not related."

The hero merely grinned, shoving his hands into his pockets as he turned to face the villain completely. Oh, how they had both grown. Into two different people, so different, yet so similar. Their paths had crossed once when they were children, young and innocent and naïve to the works of the world, then separated as they had grown, as they had each accepted Nature's calling. And now, here they were. Their paths had led them back together.

"Do you trust me?" The hero asked quietly.

The villain frowned suspiciously, but a soft "yes" ensued after a period of time.

"Try to keep up then." The hero smirked as he brushed past the villain, leaping onto the next rooftop without so much as a glance behind his shoulder.

The villain grumbled, but the faint traces of a smile etched themselves onto his countenance as he followed close behind.

Above them, the faint crescent of a new moon shone, sending slivers of white cascading over the houses and the grass and the stone of the paths. For a moment, it was just the two of them, silhouettes against the backdrop of a starry night sky and the brilliant moon. Surreal, yet concrete.

The villain could have left before the next rooftop. He could have melted into the shadows before the sight of their old childhood spot popped into sight. He could have gone home or returned to base before standing at the top of that very hill where they had once stood, many years ago. Yet he did none of the above.

"You haven't been here in a long time." Somehow, the hero made it sound accusatory.

The villain lowered his head, scuffing the grass at his feet with the tip of his shoe. That, he could not deny. "I didn't have time."

For a long time, the hero didn't say anything, and the villain began to think that perhaps he had been forgiven and the hero would drop all this that was going on between them. He had never meant for both of them to turn out this way, him more than the hero, but life was never fair. Neither was it predictable.

"I don't think so." The hero mused, plopping down onto the soft green grass, palms flattened against the ground. "I think you were afraid. Of this place. Of the memories it would bring back. You think they would go against what you were taught you would become."

"Who I've become is the path I've chosen for myself. No one else forged it for me." The villain snapped harshly, with a little more bite to his words than he had intended.

The hero fixed him with a knowing look. "Is that what you really think? Listen to your heart, and tell me. Honestly."

The villain bit down on his lower lip before sinking down onto the spot beside the hero. He said nothing. Just stared into the distance ahead, and fixed his eyes on the heavens above. It was going to be early morning soon.

"Doesn't being here make you feel small? Infinitesimal? With the land stretching on as far as the eye can see and the stars littering the sky above? I have always come back here, even after you were gone. It made me feel free, like…like an escape from reality. Here, I…we can be whoever we want to be. No one to forge our paths for us, no one to decide what we could be, no one to force us to be what we could never be."

"Life is rarely that simple, Hero." The villain intoned, hands fisting clumps of grass on either side of him.

"And again, you're right. But that would merely be following what the cosmos has planned for you. Many people lament that life is difficult, that it can never give us what we want. Yes, but a few break through life's barriers, because they believe. They believe in what they want, they believe in a happier ending, they believe in embracing destiny and revolting against fate. You don't have to be who you don't want to be just because others have carved the path for you, because others like you have done it before you. You are not like the others. You are unique, and you are what makes you you. I'm not asking you to drop everything all at once, I'm just asking that you rethink your life choices that you have obviously made not for yourself but for others. I'm asking that you give yourself a chance. Just a small one, in a world that's too big for us."

An amalgamation of emotions rushed through the villain, and his heart ached. The words were on the tip of his tongue, struggling past one another to spill past his lips, yet he could not bring himself to do it. He swallowed the chunky letters back down, tasting bitterness and the acridity of them burning sharp against his throat, pressing his lips tight together, stinging eyes staring resolutely ahead.

They sat on the hilltop for a while, the crickets chirping around them, the wind rustling through the leaves on the trees, the brook singing merrily downstream.

"It's getting late," the hero said quietly after what seemed like eons. "I should go. Rest well, Kaison."

The villain started. He hadn't heard the hero use his real name since they were children. It evoked something in him, a stirring deep in his gut, something primal and raw and so achingly sweet and sour at the same time.

"Did you know, your name means "son of fighter or rebel"?"

The villain shook his head and the hero smiled sadly, slowly rising and making his way past the villain.

"Just now," the villain blurted out in a panic, the hero's back the only thing in his vision. His feet had stopped, and he had not turned around to face the villain, but the villain knew the hero was listening. He always had.

"You asked me what makes me happy. You did. When we were kids and all that. You've always been the one stable thing in my life, even after we went down separate paths. You were always there. You never left."

By now, the villain was struggling not to cry. But it was hard, as the tears pooled in his eyes and he bit down on his lip harder, angling his head downwards to stare at the patch of grass between his feet.

Suddenly, the hero was there, kneeling down beside him, taking his hands into his and holding on tight. "It's okay to cry. It's okay to be vulnerable. It's okay to be free, to be whoever you want to be. It's okay to give yourself a chance."

The villain's emotions betrayed him, and the dam broke. It had been more than ten years since he had last cried, since he had last allowed himself to cry.

The hero squeezed his hands tighter. "You don't have to do this alone. If you're ready to try, I'm here to help."

The villain nodded, and he could see the relief in the way the hero's shoulders sagged, the joy in the beautiful smile that broke across his face. The hero pulled him into a hug, one that was long overdue, and that exact same feeling from earlier arose in the villain. It felt like regret, like relief, like a certain kind of joy and bliss, the only kind you could find when you were at home. And it felt like love. The love of an old childhood friend, the love of someone you could call home. It was the love of someone he had loved dearly since day one and had never stopped loving over the years.

As if reading his thoughts, the hero pulled away, cupping his tearstained face in his warm soft palms, resting his forehead against the villain's, their noses touching and their breaths misting in the cool air between them. "I missed you."

"Missed you too." The villain croaked, managing a shaky smile.

One minute, they were barely an inch apart, and the next, the hero's lips were on his. They fit perfectly, like a last piece fitting into a jigsaw puzzle. The kiss felt soft and sweet and slow, something warm and burning that crashed through their veins and threatened to burn them from the inside out. It felt like home, something the villain hadn't had in a very long time.

In the distance, brilliant purple met stormy grey, as the sizzling flash of a lightning bolt appeared on the cusp of dawn.

#hero x villain #soft villain #soft hero #writing #m x m #romance #fluff

[nevertheless-moving]

Suicidal Misunderstanding X

Star Wars Time Travel AU #27

Part I - - - - - Part II - - - - - Part III - - - - - Part IV - - - - - Part V - - -  - - Part VI - - - - - Part VII - - - - - Part VIII - - - - - Part IX

“I realize this is incredibly difficult,” the Nautolan Soul Healer said calmly. “But in order for us to help Obi-Wan, we need to determine the cause of his current disconnection with reality. Based on the drug panel, and convenient surveillance, we have, to the best of our ability, ruled out temporary psychosis brought on by a drug interaction.”

Cody stiffened further, not sure how to react to anything anymore. When a brother tried to end his own life, it was usually obvious why.

Sife Aerdo continued on. “There have, of course, been cases of Jedi Seers giveing into their fears of the future, or losing their sense of reality, but every case study involving such an extreme reaction was the result a gradual degradation over the course of many years. Nevertheless, it seems clear that Obi-Wan experienced a vision, and it may have impacted his breakdown to some extent. The more we know, the more successful any attempts to convince him of reality will be.”

Bant furrowed her brow in thought, trying to replay three decades of increasingly vague discussions of nightmares.

”Considering the high profile nature of his position, we cannot rule out some kind of psychological attack, perhaps even a darksider incursion.

Anakin leaned forward intently, the inside of his skull buzzing with white noise.

"All that being said, we must be prepared to treat Obi-Wan’s self harm as the  culmination of a long and quiet mental health struggle. He would not be the first in the Order to disguise such a thing with durasteel self-discipline.”

At that, Bant and Mace took a moment to release their feelings to the force, while Anakin raised his shields defensively.

Master Aerdo finally hesitated, before continuing in the same smooth tone. “I would ordinarily prefer to structure this kind of conversation quite differently- allow Obi-Wan time to share his feelings first and invite you each separately to support him in the healing process. But he’s gone from fighting sedatives and force compulsions as though the fate of the galaxy depended on it, to a self-induced coma. All while barely lucid, yet still somehow maintaining Master Class mental shielding. We need to get a better understanding of his mental landscape if we’re going to even begin the process of treatment."

It is necessary to note that everyone in that room had led, in one way or another, a somewhat miserable life. This was the main reason none of them could claim that the next five hours were the worst they had ever experienced. 

“But he’s always had terrible sleeping habits.” Anakin said hoarsely.

“Yes, but I think they got worse after Qui-Gon passed,” Bant argued, not sure what point she was making. 

“When I pointed out he couldn’t be getting more than three hours a night he told me that he could manage on meditation” Cody offered irritably.

“That’s technically true,” Mace confirmed. “If the Master in question is well-balanced otherwise”

“So its like his eating habits, crushing responsibilities, and repeated exposure to violence, then? Completely fine for a Jedi, in less it’s not, in which case it’s a major red flag?” 

“I think it would help to establish a timeline.“

Aerdo actually dredged up old mission reports, leading to the group reluctantly contacting Ashoka for her memories of Mortis.

At her Master’s insistence, she told them everything she remembered, hazy as it was, nervously elaborating on her own memories of falling. To her confusion, Master Windu all but brushed past that, assuring her that the important thing with stepping into darkness was the choice to the return to the light. Anakin bizarrely agreed with Windu. Out loud. Unnerved by the cooperation more than anything, she put her holographic foot down and demanded to know what was going on. 

Anakin took the comm-link into a separate room to speak privately.

Upon return, he informed the group (with a visibly red and puffy face) that Kit would be escorting her back from Mount Cala cleanup early, daring anyone to disagree. Windu nodded and the conversation continued on.

Together they rewatched holo-footage of Obi-Wan laughing amongst Ghost company the night before last, and debated reports from psychometric investigators who had scoured the cantina as well as Obi-Wan’s personal quarters for traces of illicit substances. Between that and another drug panel, they were finally forced to conclude that despite the timing, the alcohol at most confused Obi-Wan’s perception of a vision, or possibly simply loosened his tongue.

Bant prodded Cody to repeat every word from the holocar ride to the temple, taking furious notes. Cody was unable to stop the heat that crawled up his face.

Just when the looming horror of Obi-Wan actually preparing to intentionally die started to break over Anakin, Windu interjected.

“You don’t see what I do,” the Harun Kal said grimly. “Something galaxy-sized shattered around Obi-Wan and he didn’t break from it. The closest comparison I have is Master Yaddle’s presence when she meditated on her confinement. He’s chosen to keep going, even when, quite frankly, death would be a release. We’re missing something fundamental.”

“He said there were ‘other dark forces at work.’ Even if the fight was objectively hopeless... there’s no way he would choose to die because of it!” Anakin agreed vehemently, shaking off morbid fears.

“But he did choose to die.” Cody said quietly. And the wind went out of Anakin’s sails.

“Lets go back.”

Anakin gritted his teeth as they picked apart everything ‘unusual’ Obi-Wan had said and done leading up to his visit with Bant.

“What exactly did he...”

“So Plo Koon was able to get a read through his shields?”

“Did he have anything to eat?”

“How did that compare to...”

“When he's mentioned things in the future...did it seem good or bad to you?” Bant asked.

“Bad.” Cody and Anakin said in unison. Remembering the trip to the temple Cody spoke again, “Definitely bad.”

“Right. When we were talking he sometimes used the wrong tenses for things, people. I confronted him on not knowing ‘when’ he was after Knight Skywalker left. He told me that he knew what was real, but he was “enjoying not fully living in the moment” he also said that he intended to “wake up”

“Enjoying? That’s the exact word he used?” Cody asked incredulous. 

“He did seem...mostly happy yesterday. Giddy, at points.” Anakin said, slumping in on himself.

Bant looked at her notes once more before addressing the group.

“This isn’t vision psychosis in any manner I’ve heard of before...but I think I might have a theory. He used to have intense visions when we were kids; plenty of us did sometimes, but Obi-Wan would be unable to sleep after. What terrified him more than anything was the uncertainty that he might make the wrong choice- even when the vision was about something good, or neutral. His visions gradually stopped coming around puberty. We just had a conversation about this a few months ago- how relieved he was to only have to manage flashes of precognition. If he had a random, horrifying vision of a terrible future...suicide wouldn’t be his reaction. It’s too final.”

“Even if he blamed himself for what he saw coming?” Mace asked.

“Especially if he blamed himself.” Bant said. 

“What’s your theory?” Aerdo prodded.

“What if...what if he was telling the truth when he said he could separate out what was real and what was not? What if there was no distortion or blurring between now and then? What if he was just wrong about which was which?”

“That...would be a very extreme and abnormal manifestation of force-induced psychosis. He has training in distinguishing reality from visions. The continued presence of his mental shielding means that the fabric of his mind can’t be so horrifically collapsed in on itself.” 

“What if the vision was actually that realistic?” Bant said, pushing back against the soul healer. “So detailed and vivid that it effectively was a reality in itself, and everything else, all of us...”

“Were just memories” Anakin finished. “It would...actually explain pretty much everything. You said he wanted to wake up and when...when I found him.” He stopped, swallowing. “When I found him, he argued with me...what if he wasn’t trying to hurt himself? If you’re right...that would mean I found him trying to get back to reality.”

“It could explain his behavior in the halls...his desperation to wake...” Sife mused “But it runs counter to every other experience I’ve had with those managing prophetic visions. Master Windu, could that explain the shatterpoints you saw?”

“I’m not certain. It would have to have been extraordinarily real to create the echos of Shattering I witnessed. I don’t know if that depth of vision has occurred before, but then again, many things are possible in the force.”

“You really think he might have been...trying to wake up from dream? By killing himself?!” Cody asked incredulous.

“If that ends up being what happened I am going to give him such shit. That is the worst way to end a vision.” Anakin replied.

“Yes. It is.” Bant said pointedly. “That’s why it’s a last resort, after every other attempt to wake fails.” 

They all sat in silence, processing various implications. Cody was unnerved by another terrifying insight into force powers, as well as the idea that the General might vividly remember Cody being inexplicably mind-controlled into trying to kill him. Anakin was trying to understand what this would mean for them, and the conversations he had thought they had had. Did...any of it count, if he thought he was offering it to a hallucination?

“Alright, this is a valuable working idea, but let’s make sure to examine everything with an open mind before we draw any more conclusions. Anakin, what happened after you left the healers office?”

Obi-Wan’s critique of the practicalities of visiting a soul healer could be and was interpreted multiple ways. The incongruity of peacekeepers in war sparked a rehash of earlier discussion. More apologies. Self identifying as ‘crazy’ inspired new debate, especially in the context of the new theory. 

“When I saw him enter the fountain room I assumed he had had a brutal run-in with  dark force user.” Windu explained. “Based on everything we’ve gone over, I don’t understand when...but some of the more insidious sith compulsions work by taking whatever small anger or hurt you feel and magnifying them until they consume you. If Obi-Wan was already experiencing self loathing...”

Cody sucked in a breath. “Then a Sith mind suggestion would bring him to commit suicide. It...sounds like something he might do, if he was partially in control. Take the blow rather than let himself be used as a weapon against anyone else, even his worst enemy.”

“Hells, it could have been an even vaguer compulsion, driving him to attack the person he hates the most,” Bant added darkly.

Anakin buried his head in his hands, trying to hold it together. He couldn’t afford to lose control or get angry. Hells, getting angry at Obi-Wan for ‘failing him’ when in pain could be the reason Obi-Wan was currently in the healing halls. The man said he loved him unconditionally, then practically had a breakdown over how much Anakin pushed that unconditional love to the breaking point, then killed himself. How was he supposed to-

“Anakin? Are you alright to continue?” someone said.

“Yes. No. There’s more I have to tell you...I don’t know if it will help but - it was hurting Obi-Wan...I...”

“Let’s just take it one step at a time. What happened after you left Mace?”

Apparently even Cody somehow knew more about Bruck Chun than Anakin. Master Windu and Eerin told different sides of the same sad story, which spiraled back into a conversation about Obi-Wan’s inadequacy issues, which somehow devolved into a long rant about Qui-Gon Jinn that Master Windu had apparently been holding back for years. 

“My apologies.” He said afterwards, clearing his throat as the group stared, taken aback. “Old grievances. Go on Anakin, what did happened after you got to the ‘secret spot.’”

“He...was skirting around whatever was bothering him...I pushed him...told him I wanted to help...he said I couldn’t...because it was me...because of what I...”

Anakin stood up suddenly, feeling the walls of the room closing in.

“I’m sorry- I’m sorry I-” 

He ran out.

He turned around almost immediately, pacing in the small corridor, knowing he couldn’t leave, simply needing a minute to catch his breath.

Master Windu followed him out after a moment, not saying anything, just standing there. Watching him.

“What!” Anakin finally snapped. “What do you have to say that I don’t know already!”

“Knight Skywalker-”

“Don’t call me that! I DON’T DESERVE-” 

Anakin let out a frustrated snarl, punching a wall. The crumble of stone beneath this fist briefly made him feel better, but then he remembered Obi-Wan’s heartbroken expression in the light of an underworldly glow, and the tiny, choked sound he heard when the healers moved him and Anakin just...collapsed, falling to his knees.

Master Windu sank down gracefully beside him.

“Anakin. This isn’t about attachment issues, is it.”

“Not really, no. I mean, maybe you’ll blame attachment but it’s more about...”

“Anger.”

Anakin looked up at that, trying to regain the meditative calm he had felt for a glimmering moment yesterday, right in-between making peace in the cave and everything burning to ash. 

“You know that I have had my own struggles with anger. It is how and why I came to develop Vaapad.” 

“Yes, but you’ve Mastered your anger. And you’ve never...never given in to hate.”

A beat passed and Windu watched some of Skywalker’s familiar breaking points flicker into view. 

“You’ve done something. Something you know the Jedi won’t forgive.”

“Obi-Wan forgave me.” Anakin said, whispering. “He said that even though I couldn’t fix what I did he loved me anyway and I just needed to...to honestly regret what I did and not do it again. I told him I’d get rid of my lightsaber and I meant it and...I thought he forgave me. I was ready to go to the Council with him, come clean about everything. And then I left him alone to get dinner and when I came back...he was holding my lightsaber. My lightsaber.” 

Anakin buried his face in his hands, shuddering with creeping cold.

“I’m not going to critique your and Obi-Wan’s attachment to each other right now. I’m well aware that much of the order has turned to personal ties to maintain their stability given the ongoing horrors of war. I am, for many reasons, wary of the risks this brings us, yet it is also true that risks do not automatically mean failure. I myself have mastered my emotions in a different manner than conventional wisdom councils.” 

Windu spoke carefully. For all that he and Anakin had similar relationships with the force, they rarely saw eye to eye on any given subject. At a certain point, Mace had accepted that the volatile young man was determined to find the worst possible interpretation for anything he said. And Mace was not the order’s most patient diplomat.

“As for your crime, whatever it is, l will tell you this: Unless you choose to renounce the code and leave our number, you will be treated as a Jedi Knight, subject to our protections, as well as our judgement. You will receive appropriate mental counseling. If you are judged to be a danger to those around you, your actions will be curtailed and monitored, possibly through temporary confinement.  The Jedi do not believe in punitive measures for their own sake, but you may be required to provide restitution to those you harmed, perhaps indefinitely. 

Silence hung perilously between them. Windu watched a tremor run through the unfathomable kaleidoscopic of shatterpoints that had orbited Skywalker since he was a boy. A small one broke inward, and an attached tangle of larger, darker ones fell away, crumbling to dust. The rest faded from view, invisible for the moment. A choice had been made, some decision that closed off at least one path to the darkside.

“There’s no one to make restitutions to.”

“...You’re going to have to elaborate on that.”

“Let’s go back inside- I don’t want to do this twice.”

They returned to the increasingly hated meeting room.

Anakin spoke in an outpouring of words about love and hate, about misplaced revenge and now uncertain forgiveness. When he finally finished, the room was deathly silent.

The three Jedi sat quietly while Cody pinched the bridge of his nose. “I guess this is why Jedi have the no attachment rule, huh? I admit I never really got it, but I suppose even if I-”

Bant abruptly lunged up, fumbling to bring her lightsaber to Anakin’s neck. Everyone jumped to their feet, except for Anakin, who stared at Bant with a wretched expression.

“MASTER EERIN! This is not-”

“Did you do it?” she asked, ignoring the Master of the Order.

“Bant!”

“It was my first thought after I saw him. We all rushed in expecting a fight, or a bomb, only to find you, insane, and him with a hole next to his heart. I didn’t want to believe it of course, but you’ve always had a violent streak that Obi-Wan, force help him, couldn’t quite soothe away. A fight gone wrong. Master Windu said it was suicide, and I believed him, and I’ve been trying to make sense of that ever since. But Mace found you after, didn’t he? After you felt guilty? Did you think he was going to turn on you?”

“Bant Eerin, you are dangerously-”

“No.” Anakin whispered.

“Obviously I might be why. But I didn’t- I couldn’t. I know I’m not good but I can’t even imagine- holding a saber against him like that. Kriff, do you not get how much I can’t handle losing people I love? I was insane when you saw me because I saw someone trying to kill Obi-Wan and I couldn’t even fight them.”  

Bant held his gaze for several lingering seconds, deactivated her saber and dropping it with a clatter. They stared at each other, breathing heavily and not blinking. She returned to her seat, moving jerkily. “I apologize Knight Skywalker. That was uncalled for.” 

“I wish I could say I wouldn’t have done the same thing in your shoes” he responded lowly. Bant made a tiny, unintelligible noise in reply. 

Cody collapsed back into his chair, holstering his blaster.  “Alright then...so after you finished sitting in the fountain room...what happened next?”

Everyone stared at him.

“What?”

“You’re handling Anakin’s confession somewhat dispassionately. We’re simply surprised.” Mace said slowly, returning to his seat at the same time as Master Aerdo fell into theirs.

Cody shifted uncomfortably. “The vod were trained in a wide range of enemy suppression tactics. While we’re extremely glad the Jedi have never asked us to employ them, I’m not...unfamiliar with this scale of deliberate slaughter. At least in the hypothetical, sir.”

“I see.” Aerdo said. “That is a valuable insight to have, thank you. Knight Skywalker-”

“Just...call me Anakin. Or Skywalker.”

“Anakin. When did this happen?”

“About two years ago, immediately before the First Battle of Geonosis.”

“And have you had any similar experiences with giving into the darkside since?” they asked placidly.

“I don’t think so but...we went to war the next day and....I don’t know if I’ve stopped fighting since it- since I did what I did.”

“Hmm. Anakin, would you mind stepping outside the room and waiting in the corridor for a moment please?” 

He bit his tongue, tasting blood, and quietly walked out the door while the Masters decided his fate. He leaned back against a wall, desperately wanting to see Padme. 

To his surprise, the door opened barely a few minutes later, and he was politely invited back in.

“Anakin.” Master Windu spoke. “Thank you for telling us this. It’s an important insight into Obi-Wan’s feelings right now, and I recognize that you could have kept it a secret. As Head of the Order, and with the advice of a Senior Soul Healer, I have made a decision. You will be assigned a personal soul healer, who you will start seeing tomorrow. Commander Cody pointed out that over nearly two years of continuous warfare, you have maintained some of the the lowest trooper casualty units of any division, by a significant margin if we evaluate based on mission risk level. Your civilian and enemy casualties will be reviewed, but even considering constant war, since your massacre of the Tuskens, you have clearly managed to at least... direct your violence away from the innocent. We do not consider you a threat to the inhabitants of the world. For the time being, I see no real benefit to limiting or tracking your behavior within the temple or on planet, but you are barred from leaving orbit. I have decided to delay a full reckoning before the council until such time that your former Master is well enough to provide his own opinion. Give me just cause, and I will have you confined to a force-suppressing cell. Do you understand?”

Anakin nodded, bowing in acknowledgment. All things considered, it was...honestly better than he expected.

“Now, as Cody” Windu paused. “My apologies, as the Commander was saying-” 

“Cody’s fine, sir” Cody said, wrung out in a way different from anything Kamino had trained him for.

“...I think we can all consider ourselves on a first name basis at this point.” Bant said with a snort. She paused. “That includes you Anakin. I really don’t know how to handle what you did but kark it, I don’t want to hate you. For myself.”

Everyone nodded.

“As Cody was saying, what happened next?”

Peace. Comfort. Hunger. A warning in the force...

-

“I tried to pull the saber back but his finger was already on the igniter...” 

“You probably saved his life. Even a second later-”

“I know, that’s almost the worst part.”

-

“-his neck”

“Why would he change weapons?”

“What if-”

-

“He said what to you and Healer Che?”

“That has to support the detailed vision idea, think about-”

“I’m sorry, Emperor?”

-

“I think we’re done.”

Anakin stared blankly at Sife. “But we didn’t figure anything out.”

“Not conclusively, but we’re unlikely to make any more progress, you’ve given me enough information to preform a meaningful meditative scan, or guide a conversation, should Obi-Wan wake, or navigate through his mind, should we decide to make a more decisive attempt at his shields.”

“Master Aerdo... I leave the final judgement up to you, but I strongly urge you to make a more decisive attempt. I am more convinced now than I was...” Mace glanced at the chronometer “five hours ago that this was motivated by a specific, external stimuli, likely dark. Do you disagree?”

“No.” they said with a sigh. “But I don’t want to underestimate how much underlying factors might have contributed to his response to stimuli, including underlying factors that none of you were aware of.”

The Nautolan Soul Healer stood up, tucking their hands into their sleeves to address the room with classical Jedi serenity. It was a little irritating.

“In any case, we all need to sleep, eat, and meditate. Master Eerin, you have the rest of the day off, I've cleared it with Master Che already. Master Windu, I leave the final judgement up to you, and I am aware that your duties as Master of the Order are unceasing, but I urge you to take some time to center yourself before returning to the council. Commander Cody, I would be more than willing to arrange soul healing for you or any of the Vod, please let me know. Anakin, you will receive a comm later today with further details on your future healing sessions. 

They bowed low, then glided out the door.

Bant stood next, bowed individually to each soul, and sped walked out.

Commander Cody cleared his throat awkwardly, “Mace- what should I tell the troops? We’re supposed to have command briefings later tonight.”

“If anyone asks about General Kenobi, tell them its classified.” I’ll schedule a briefing on the subject. Now go find Captain Rex and take care of yourself, that’s an order.”

Cody saluted, first to the high General, then to Anakin.

Finally it was just Mace and Anakin.

“Is there anyone who you trust who I can call to stay with you.” Master Windu asked.

“I can manage on my own” Anakin replied, not willing to give the Master of the Order anything else he could use against him, even after everything.

Master Windu held back a sigh.

He continued once more, making a deliberate attempt to soften his tone. “Anakin- I know we’ve had our differences, but this is not a trick, nor a trap. You’ve suffered a series of great shocks in the last 24 hours and handled them with immense maturity. I myself am struggling to deal with the emotional fallout.”

Anakin looked up at that, surprised. He didn’t seem to be struggling, but maybe that was what made him a good Jedi Master...

“As I told you before, I am not going to begrudge you the comfort of attachment. I’m rather convinced it would do you more harm than good at this point. I don’t want you flying right now, and you don’t have to be alone. I hope we have come to a better understanding today, but I doubt my presence is suddenly a comfort, though please correct me if I’m wrong. Now is there someone I can call?”

-

Padme ended her call with Master Windu extremely discomfited. She had barely heard from Anakin since he ran out on her the night before last to take care of an apparently extremely drunk Obi-Wan. He had messaged her a few times that night, promising to make it up to her, but had been comm-silent since. She had been starting to get worried, and now the Master of the Order was asking her to pick him up from the temple. Fortunately, she had already cleared most of her meetings for the week well in advance (Courascant leave usually meant THEM time, not that she was jealous of Obi-Wan, of course).

The speeder ride back from the temple was silent. All Anakin would say was that he would explain everything once they were in ‘a secure location.’ 

The door to the apartment had scarcely closed behind them when Anakin fell into her arms, shaking.

“Anakin, talk to me love, what’s wrong?” She gently guided him to the couch, arranging him so she could hold him protectively.

“Obi-Wan tried to kill himself.”

She let out a harsh gasp, “No! He can’t have, he would never-” 

“I got to him in time, but Padme... he was holding a lightsaber to his heart. It was...really close” He burrowed deeper into the folds of her dress, and she gripped him fiercely.

“Oh gods, is he-”

“He’s physically healing, but he’s still...not all there. I spent all of today locked in a room, trying to figure out if it was a Sith Attack, or an insane vision, or..or me”

“Anakin! What do you mean ‘me’ - Obi-Wan loves you, you-”

“I know.” Anakin interrupted her again, knowing he was being unfair; he was just too exhausted to be patient.

“He told me loved me. He...he...found out about what I did to the Tusken village, You should have seen his face, Padme, he was horrified, but he still told me he loved me, and he was willing to forgive me, even though he shouldn’t”

“Of course he forgave you,” Padme whispered. “You’re not a monster, Anakin, I know you would never do something like that again.”

"And then after we talked, I left him alone and he-” Anakin choked out into her dress.

Tears ran down her face, heart breaking. “That’s- that’s horrible. Anakin...it must have have been a attack, Obi-Wan wouldn’t do that.” she said urgently.

He pulled away, horrified. “I made you cry. I made Obi-Wan cry too. I’m sorry- Padme please, promise me you won’t-”

She grabbed the sides of his head. 

Her nails bit into the soft skin behind his ears as she pulled him down so they were face-to-face, vowing, “Never. I swear by the force itself, I will never choose death over life.”

He let out a relieved sigh, eyes fluttering closed.

“Now you,” she demanded

“As long as I have anyone to live for, I swear by the force, I will never choose death over life.”

She pulled him the rest of the way in for a bruising kiss. He lifted her, and they desperately clung at one another as he carried her to bed. They continued like that, clinging and grasping, until exhaustion carried him to sleep. She pulled the covers over top them both and curled around him defensively as the day slowly faded away.

Part XI

#star wars #my au #suicidal misunderstanding au #prequel trilogy #potentially triggering #discussions of suicide #references to self-harm #star wars au #bonding? between #Mace Windu and Anakin Skywalker #? in my #hurt/comfort fic #? It’s more likely than you’d think #also I struggle with fix it stories that just never address the big tusken elephant in the room? of course i want everyone to #live happily ever but theres a certain scale of atrocity that i feel u gotta address 2 get there #ugh this chapter got reallly long and im just gonna post it ok? ok. #meh #a lot of this fic is just people mentally going What The Fuck at various registers with different inflections #Because that’s not an inappropriate response to time travel in general! and star wars canon in particular. #star wars au no 27

[paper-n-ashes]

sparks and embers - chapter 16

Characters: Kylo Ren x Original Female Character, Poe Dameron x Original Female Character

Story Tags: Explicit (18+), Canon Compliant/Divergent (Set after TLJ), First Person POV, Love Triangle, Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Porn with Plot, Hurt/Comfort, Kylo Ren hates Poe Dameron

Chapter 16 - Reconciliation 

Words: 6.1k

Chapter Tags/Warnings: Verbal and physical intimidation, choking, a twisted Star Wars version of phone sex (holo-sex if you will), mutual masturbation

Author’s note: I have been significantly side tracked and not been focusing on this AO3 to Tumblr transfer, so I apologise if the next few chapters come out in quick succession. And a reminder to everyone who reads this story, my baby, I love and adore you. 

Read on AO3 or Start from the beginning

~

I wanted to leave, desperately. To exit past the blast doors without looking back.

But I didn’t.

Instead, I treaded to one of the uncomfortable charcoal coloured sofas and sat down, lost in a trance of confusion and embarrassment.

Why was this becoming such a running theme in my life, being so horribly unprofessional when looking after vulnerable men? Men who were my patients? With Poe I came to understand all I thought and did eventually brought about an inevitable outcome, our connection forged quickly but deeply, developing feelings for him that I’d never experienced for anyone before - feelings I knew he had for me too.

But this? This growing something for Kylo that’d clawed its way past my usual indifference? It was greatly concerning.

I didn’t know what came over me, what influence the energy I felt when touching my skin to his had over my behaviour. There was a fading echo of my thoughts during those moments, his kiss feeling right, exciting, pleasurable even. Now those notions seemed bizarre.

I didn’t feel that way for him. I couldn’t.

His presence in my life had already brought so much burden with it. The threats of violence and evil intent couldn’t easily be erased from my memory. Ultimately, he was the one keeping me here, keeping me from my patients and my home, keeping me from Poe.

And for that, I still held hatred for my captor.

Although… it was a different man I’d just shared such an intimate scene with. Thinking over how it occurred, the seconds leading into our embrace, I realised something. 

He’d kissed me.

Kylo initiated the connection. All seemingly without the guise of trying to break through into my thoughts. There was something so innocent about the way he first touched his lips to mine, the usual intensity of our exchanges gone for those few fleeting minutes. I was overwhelmingly curious to find out why.

A part of me noticed the irony of wanting to desperately look inside his mind for even a moment, to gain some kind of indication of his real intentions. I understood now more than ever why he was so obsessed with his endeavour to delve into mine.

I remained sitting in contemplative thought for a little while, procrastinating the inevitable task of continuing Kylo’s care, knowing I wouldn’t be able to leave until that was well and truly over. The prospect of entering back into his bedroom to endure the predicted awkward interaction was only slightly more appealing than being tossed back into my cell.

With a purposeful breath I stood, hesitating slightly before gliding my hand over the lock and slipping back into the room.

Hoping Kylo might already have fallen back to sleep, I was unsettled when I saw him still sitting in much the same position as when I’d left. Again, our stares found themselves secured into one another and I was quick to notice the hostile expression he wore.

“I thought I told you to leave,” he muttered, his tone sour.

“I’m following orders. And you’re still under my care,” I countered, stepping towards the bedroom bench where I’d left the datapad.

“I am more than able to care for myself now.”

I didn’t look up from the screen while surveying his vitals from the past hour. “You weren’t able to do that a few hours ago.”

“Exactly my point. It seems the worst is over,” he huffed. “Your treatment has been… adequate. But it is no longer required. A medical droid can fill your place easily.”

I could feel my teeth grind together, narrowed eyes shooting back to his face.

Adequate? I just saved your damn life.

“You didn’t seem to think that when you called for my attendance here. Amongst all the other qualified personnel you keep on this ship, you asked for me.”

Kylo looked away, his lips settled into straight line. “I assumed you would do a better job, knowing your punishment would be more severe if you didn’t.”

“I do my job well no matter what,” I hissed. “Even when I’m forced to treat an unappreciative tyrant.”

I could sense the barbed energy vibrate outwards from his body, even when his disposition barely faltered. “You expect me to be grateful? For doing the job I called you here to do?”

My voice became callous, offended by the thought I hadn’t extended myself to keep his thankless ass alive. “Considering I helped you avoid death, all on my own, yeah. I do consider that something to be grateful for.”

Monitor lines were ripped away, Kylo’s figure storming towards me, expression tight with contempt. “Do not begin forgetting your place here,” he snarled. His energy became wild with wrath, pulsating harder with his close proximity. “You are nothing but a hostage of the First Order. Your existence means nothing to me.”

“Yet you still wanted me,” I challenged, standing tall against his intimidating stance. The instant I’d let the words escape my mouth, his hand clamped hard around my neck, thrusting me backwards until my spine hit the wall. Even through the pain of his hold at my windpipe, I kept my eyes focused on his, defiant.

“A moment of weakness, brought about by my worsened health,” he condemned, the forceful air from his words hitting my face.

“Keep… telling… yourself… that.”

His grip grew even tighter, an enflamed growl escaping from his throat. “I could kill you now, and no one would know. No one would care.”

“Do it then,” I wheezed with the last of the air in my lungs. I continued my attempts at breathing, gasping while his clutch on me refused to waver. The fog of unconsciousness was looming around my brain, the inside of my chest prickling with the pain of oxygen deprivation. I rallied against it, pushing harder against the overwhelming urge to fall into nothingness.

I could only barely see Kylo’s violent expression through my lowered eyelids, only able to identify the erupting chaos of his aura. The sound of my heart was beating hard in my ears, trying to push what little oxygen I had left to my brain in a desperate attempt to keep me awake. It was difficult to hold back the heavy blackness, my eyes forced closed, the beginnings of tears stinging at the corners.

In the next instant Kylo’s strangling grip was gone, and I was faintly able to hear his infuriated growl through the loud, rapid breaths I was now permitted to take. I kept my back steadied against the wall, the new flood of oxygen making me feel faint. Collecting as much air as I could, I eyed Kylo pacing aggressively back and forth, his frame tensed while remaining focused in maddened contemplation.

“How many attempts on my life is that now?” I rasped. “Three? Or four? I’ve already lost count.”

The unemotional monster that covered his face with a mask had returned, his humanity fading fast. “There’ll come a day it won’t be an attempt.”

“I’ll remind myself of that the next time I have the option of treating you or letting you die.”

“There won’t be a next time.”

“Fantastic. So I can assume I’m being thrown back in that cell? Seems like the type of gratitude you’d show to someone who did all they could to keep you alive,” I replied, making my tone as barbed as possible.  

He strode toward me, slow and deliberate steps hitting the durasteel floor. “Oh no. You’ll still be working under my command. Like the slave you are.”

“I am not your slave,” I seethed. Hot blood tingled my cheeks, an irretrievable anger shooting through my body.

“But that is exactly what you are. A lowly nobody being forced into work to avoid punishment. A slave for the First Order. For me.” Kylo dared to curl his lips slightly upwards into a cruel smirk, his antagonising words built to inflict as much damage as possible.

It was difficult not to send out my own thrashing of insults, yet somehow I managed to hold the festering bitterness down. “Maybe I might report to General Hux, tell him exactly why you’re keeping this slave here. I think he would be interested to hear that the Supreme Leader isn’t as powerful as a newly trained Jedi.”

Kylo let out an amused exhale, looking to me like I was foolish. “General Hux is already aware of my predicament.”

I couldn’t stop my eyes from widening, an exhale becoming stuck in my lungs.

“The General, as well as the rest of High Command, have already been made privy to this information. And it encouraged them to approve of my increased focus on finding and killing the Jedi. Keeping you here, and alive, until I can find out what she’s hidden inside your mind, was something they also concurred with.”

Frack.

I had to concentrate so as to not let the distress appear in my expression. “And they didn’t care she’s found a power you haven’t heard of? They weren’t troubled about the weakness this revealed in you?”

Indifference settled onto his face. “A mildly inconvenient ability born from the light wasn’t deemed a great concern. And my inability to break through it doesn’t diminish the strength I already have. One that could force their death if I wished it so. They understand that.”

“Seems to me they don’t actually respect you, or your strength. They’re simply too fearful of their death at your hands.”

“Fear and respect can be one in the same. They bring about the same outcome, in the end. Order. Control. Conformity. All of it leading to a safer galaxy,” he pronounced, an irritating arrogance in his voice.

“Oh come on. Don’t pretend you’re somehow this gracious leader guiding the galaxy into a time of peace for the benefit of all who live in it. You only want more power, simply because a voice within your head tells you that you do. You want order because the inside of your own mind is constantly in chaos.”

Kylo’s face remained passive, but I felt in his energy the frenzy of rage flaring out from his body. “You think you have me all figured out? That you know exactly the type of person I am?”

I lifted my chin, trying to seem bold against his incensed stare. “Maybe not. But, I don’t think you even have yourself figured out.”

That statement seemed to madden him further, now unable to stop the ferocity from seeping into his features. “Get out,” he fumed, opening the bedroom door with a wave of his hand.

Hm, struck a nerve there.

“As you wish.” I smiled derisively at him, making my way to the exit. “You’re welcome for keeping you alive!” my voice called just before the durasteel door slid shut. Even through the walls I could feel his crazed fury burst outwards, making an unavoidable shiver of panic ripple over my skin.

Finding my still dampened sweater hung on one of the dining room chairs and wrapping it around my torso, I rushed out of Kylo’s quarters, filled with a storm of differing emotions.

Anger. Fear. Humiliation.

All swirling through my mind, making me feel nauseous. And amongst it all there was still a bothersome part of that held great concern for leaving my patient before I was finished with their care. Although, when I was reminded exactly how valued my treatment was by the ache still pulsing around my neck, my worry began to fade.

He wasn’t that helpless person I’d witnessed so fleetingly, the one who felt enough guilt to apologise for a small injury, the one who wanted to kiss me so sweetly. That person didn’t exist. Merely a by-product of a few hours spent in rare vulnerability. He was right, it was a moment of weakness.

But not just for him, it would seem.

Walking through the darkened corridors there was little movement around me, still being in the early hours of morning. I became stuck in deliberation about the fact that Hux, along with the rest of High Command, now knew about the block on my mind. From what I’d overheard in the conversations of command leaders I’d treated as patients, most of them had been fairly dismissive of Kylo’s obsessive focus on the Jedi. They deemed it a waste of time, effort and credits just for the capture of one person. But Kylo made it seem like they were more understanding of this fixation now. More minds in agreement could only mean it was going be easier for him to convince them to use the full force of his military fleet in finding her, and the rest of the Resistance.

An intense remorse buzzed in my chest with the realisation I’d forced an even brighter focus over Rey once again, worrying I could very well have another person loathing me for the lies I couldn’t stop telling.

My body was shivering when I’d finally made it back to my quarters, the moist fabric of my sweater making me feel horribly cold. I threw it off as soon as I stepped inside and immediately noticed a new batch of laundered clothes, including my First Order uniform, had already been delivered, the load waiting neatly on one of the side tables. Picking the pile into my hands, I carried it with me to place inside the drawers of my bedroom, lids already drooping as I longed for sleep.

After hanging my uniform up in preparation for my next shift, which I still needed to check would actually occur, I began to put away the rest of the clothes, mostly casual pieces I wore the minute I was allowed out of First Order emblazoned attire. Fingers had plucked a pair of trousers when I felt something heavy within it, opening the folded pant legs, noticing a large lump in one of the front pockets.

I reached inside, pulling out a thickened metal disc about the side of my hand, a few buttons twinkled along its base. With it came a small card, and it struck me as bizarre, barely ever seeing any kind of paper products being used on the Finalizer. Turning it over there was an unusual type of handwriting spelling out three words.

Say your name.

My stare wandered over the card curiously, turning it backwards and forwards as if it would gradually show more of an explanation for the instruction, before moving my attention back to the disc to see if it held some kind of answer.

It was silly, to feel shy with no one around, yet I was hesitant for a few moments, worried for what exactly I might be unleashing in doing what the note had said. But my curiosity was too overwhelming, desperately hoping this was another way in which the Resistance was trying to contact me.

“Alexys Jago,” I spoke clearly towards the metal. A blue stained light blinked into life, the image of a connection signal playing on what I could now identify as a portable holoprojector. My feet stepped backwards, settling onto my bed, the projection showing me the attempt it was making to link with a pre-determined target.

 A voice-coded holoprojector. Smart move.

I could only assume the signal out would be encrypted, although how long that would last until the First Order comm-network unscrambled the code, I didn’t know. My heartbeat kept moving faster, pacing in anticipation for the people on the other end of the link. Maybe there was news of a rescue plan. And even if he wore the same hurt expression as the last time I’d viewed his face, seeing Poe again, alive, would still make my whole week.

An agonisingly long minute passed while the small machine initiated its signal, and a horrible dread began to hum inside that something might have happened to the people on the other end of the line. My worry snapped away as soon as the connection icon faded, the outline of a figure slowly coming into focus.

“Alex,” Poe greeted, with a levity to his voice that almost sounded like relief.

“Poe,” I replied warmly, my chest swelling at hearing him sound happy to see me. His image soon became clearer, again viewing only the top portion of his body. He appeared vaguely dishevelled, wearing a rustled white shirt, his curled dark hair gently messed, eyelids slightly droopy. Even in this state I was entranced by his features, reminded of how handsome he was. I was silently thankful I’d made my own appearance more presentable in the night, cleaning away the blood that’d leaked from my head wound and brushing out my water tangled hair. “Did I… wake you?”

He chuckled softly. “Yeah. It’s the middle of the night here. I was told you wouldn’t be receiving the holoprojector for another day at least. Something about a special assignment.”

Hearing him laugh made my skin tingle with delight. “I was released from that particular duty early.” A shiver of guilt was the cold reminder of what had happened in the early hours of this morning, what I frantically wanted to erase from my memory.

“Well, I’m glad,” he smiled, my heartbeat rising even higher at the sight of it. “I’ve been waiting to talk with you.”

“No one else is with you?”

He shook his head, turning serious. “I organised this holoprojector alone, so we could get a chance to speak, just the two of us. Thankfully we’ve got more than 15 minutes this time. And I was able to get our spy to make sure no-one is watching through the security cameras.”

“Good. That’s… good.” I felt myself becoming a little anxious at his intentions behind the conversation he’d worked so hard to bring about. There was so much I wanted to say, so many apologies I wanted to express, but I was made so hesitant by the solemn look on his face that the words wouldn’t form on my lips.

A long silence followed, making me more fretful as the seconds ticked over. Poe’s gaze appeared to study my face, seeming just as cautious to speak as I was. “Alex…” he murmured.

Oh no. This was it.

“Alex, I am so sorry.”

“Wait… what?”

“I’m sorry. Sorry for making you feel so ashamed in disclosing your abilities. That I made it about me. About us.”

I was locked in a stunned silence, not having expected this shift in attitude.

Poe ran a hand through his hair, an uneasiness now evident through his movements. “I had some time to think after our last transmission, time to go over everything. It wasn’t long before I realised what an asshole I had been.”

“No Poe, you weren’t-”

“I was,” he interrupted quickly. “I saw you concealing it as an implication you didn’t trust me. And that wasn’t fair. You weren’t to know what would happen, especially with us. You kept it hidden because you were afraid of the consequences, the danger, it could bring.”

“Rey talked to you, didn’t she?”

He smirked softly before turning sombre again. “She may have helped me understand a few things. How terrifying it can be to come into these types of powers, not knowing what they really are, or how people might take advantage of it. She knows more than anyone the target it puts over your head.”

“I really hated lying Poe, I swear,” I insisted, leaning in closer, my eyes pleading. “But the fear has just… eaten me alive for most of my life. I didn’t want to trust anyone. It’s… hard to get out of that mindset.”

His expression turned comforting. “I know. And you still threw all of that fear away, saving a stranger connected to the people you were hiding from.”

“Of course I did. I wouldn’t have ever let you, or anyone else who crashed on my doorstep, die because of my fear. It’s just… the Resistance is one side of a war I don’t want to be a part of. Years of seeing what it’s done to innocent people, how many lives its taken and ruined. Hiding kept me from being caught in all the death that rebellion brings, and I couldn’t be obligated to join a cause I don’t believe in. I know how selfish that is…” I hung my head, feeling a shame that squeezed my lungs tight.

“Self-preservation isn’t selfish,” Poe disputed, his voice soft. “You held a stranger’s life in higher regard than the risk to your own. Something you said you’ve done many times in the years past. I think that’s the opposite of selfish.”

His reply made my chest heave in relief, his understanding setting another cascade of reprieve stream through my blood.

“And… I understand what obligation feels like,” he continued. “I’ve spent years serving under General Organa, and it’s common knowledge how well she can tug at a persons’ compulsion to help those who are victimised, for the benefit of a safer galaxy. She’s a hard woman to say no to.”

“I can imagine.” Thinking of Leia’s face, her earnest and entreating disposition, I knew I would have never been able to refuse her request to help. There was hush in the holo then, only the usual crackle of static caused by the vast distance our transmission was likely covering. Again, Poe seemed a little troubled, noticing he was twisting his fingers in between one another, something I’d recognised he did when he was nervous. “What’s wrong?”

I could see his jaw tighten, the apprehension showing clearly on his face. “I’m… scared to ask.”

“You’ve stared death in the face, countless times, and you’re scared to ask me something?”

He nodded, not able to look up. “As a pilot, even as a Commander, I know what I’m doing. I have a goal, and I generally know what I have to do to reach it. It’s straightforward, logical. But this… This is so much harder to navigate.”

“I’m not sure I know what you’re trying to say.”

He took a deep breath, obviously building confidence, forcing his eyes back to my concerned stare. “I know that after everything that’s happened, how it might have changed things… between us…”

I felt my breath hitch in my throat. Swallowing hard, I knew now was the time for me to be brave. “Poe,” I breathed. “My feelings… They haven’t changed. But I would completely understand if you didn’t feel-”

“No, Alex, I do,” he blurted, now beaming with his perfect smile. “I still feel the same way.”

“Really?”

“I’ve barely had a minute where I haven’t thought of you. Missed you.”

“Me too,” I cooed. “I’ve missed you too.”

I stared back at him longingly, wishing only to be able to reach out and touch him, to feel the warmth of his skin under my fingertips.

Poe looked back in much the same way, a subtle frustration glistening within his eyes, still obvious within the sputtering holo image. “I wish I didn’t let them leave you there, on Raxus. You could’ve been here, with me, right now.”

“I know. I can’t deny I’ve wished for that too. But, maybe… we couldn’t have stopped what happened. Maybe it was always going to turn out this way.”

Indeed. Coincidences are rare in this galaxy.

Poe immediately noticed the jolt in the holo as I recoiled in alarm at the voice appearing again.

Right on cue.

“What happened?” he questioned, face filling with concern.

I did what I could to settle the sudden tension developing within my muscles. “Nothing. Just thought I heard something. Being in this place, it’s hard to not feel on edge all the time.”

Frack. I was lying again.

Should I tell him about the spirit that constantly visited me? The voice that haunted me throughout our time together?

Consider that notion again, and you will regret it.

I felt my throat become viciously tight, an invisible grip crushing my windpipe closed, seconds passing with its powerful clutch around my neck, only for it to vanish.

Keep your mouth shut. Or next time, I will not let go.

“Alex, what’s wrong?” Poe demanded frantically, noting my abrupt breathlessness.

“I’m fine,” I assured him, fighting through the terror that’d seized its hold over me. “I just… breathed the wrong way. It’s been a long day. Well, night really.”

Poe only let some of the distress fade from his face. “Are you sure?”

I nodded quickly. “Absolutely.”

“I can leave you to get some rest, if you need it.”

“No! I don’t want to give up a second of being with you, even if it’s like this. How long do we have left?”

He looked off to somewhere at the edge of his view. “Another hour.”

“And you think I want to give that up for a little bit of extra sleep?”

“Agreed. Sleep can wait,” he smirked.

*

I’d made myself comfortable against the wall above my bed, still holding the holoprojector in my hand, near enough to view Poe’s enchanting features up close, watching his face intently we chatted about the happenings since we’d last seen each other in person. Poe had to be increasingly vague about his mission, with the ever-present risk of Kylo Ren slipping his way past my mental block at any time. It had obviously been a difficult undertaking, telling me he still wasn’t sure how he’d made it back alive.

As the conversation flowed, he’d been extremely curious about what my young life was like with my gift hidden. A sizeable amount of time was spent explaining what I could achieve with my ability, now being able to give an accurate recount of how I’d prevented him from bleeding out.

“You can visualise the vessels? And repair them, just by concentrating on the area?” he asked, impressed, albeit a little disbelieving.

“Most body tissues, yeah,” I explained. “I started with healing my own small cuts and minor injuries. During medical training I found myself having to fix bigger wounds. It’s a little more than just concentration. It takes an immense amount of energy, hence why I fainted after my attempt to fix your severed artery.”

A memory of that next morning obviously flickered through Poe’s brain. “That’s why you were still covered in blood when I’m came to.”

“Well, I didn’t exactly get the time to clean myself up before you decided to dramatically exit out of unconsciousness.”

He exhaled in amusement. “It would have been the same painful wake up, blood stained clothes or not.”

“That is true,” I laughed, my limbs feeling light.

Poe took a few moments to observe my lively expression. “I’ve missed your smile,” he whispered sweetly.

I looked down, the hint of warmth at my cheeks, unable to stop the grin from fading. “It’s been a while since it’s felt so easy to. Not since…” My voice trailed away, the blood in my face getting hotter.

Poe raised an eyebrow. “Since when?”

I could have played coy, but a sudden boldness made itself known at his mischievous tone. “Since just before that damn doorbell went off.”

There was a noticeable shift in Poe’s demeanour, appearing startled before he nodded in agreeance. “Don’t remind me. The timing really didn't work out for us.”

As a few beats of stillness passed, my courage surged through, bypassing the timid nature I’d spent years shrouding myself in. “Have you thought about it? What would have happened if we weren’t interrupted?”

“Uh…” Poe faltered, his eyes widening. I could see him swallow hard, trying to cool the shock my question had evidently provoked. Although, it quickly melted into a heated determination. “I have. Often.”

I welcomed the recognisable kindling of fire down below. “Me too,” I whispered.

“I still wish…” he started, an adorable bashfulness taking over his features, once again running his fingers through his hair.

“What? Tell me.”

“I wish I could have heard you… come for me.”

I didn’t know what it was that possessed me to divulge my next statement. “I guess I was the lucky one in that sense.”

Poe was physically startled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

If I could be honest about one thing, it would be this.

“The night we played Sabacc. I went to take your vitals later, in the early morning. And I heard… you.”

The memory seemed to hit Poe like a lightning strike. “You heard me?”

A new confidence settled under my skin, desperate not to waste any more time under the dragging weight of inhibition. “I did.”

“I didn’t hear you exit your quarters.”

“You were understandably distracted,” I smirked.

“Well this is completely humiliating.” He pushed his face into his hands, and I could imagine the crimson blush of his cheeks. “You must think I’m an absolute pervert!”

I reached a hand towards his image as if to soothe his embarrassment, purely out of habit. “No, Poe, it’s okay! I… kinda loved it.”

He slipped his palms down, exposing his eyes, seeing me express an enticing smile. “You did huh?”

I nodded. “It wasn’t long before I followed your lead.”

Poe’s hands dropped immediately to the desk he was sitting at, staring at me with an excited surprise. “Right there?”

“In the hallway, yeah.”

He scraped both sets of fingers through his hair, seeming lost in a trance of disbelief. Only a few seconds had passed when his face snapped up again, expression fierce with craving. “Did you…?”

“Hard,” I purred.

His head rocked back, letting out a frustrated sigh. “Fuck. You’re killing me here Alex.”

I let a sly grin spread across my lips. “Should I be sorry?”

“You should,” he scolded, his voice delving into a scintillating tenor. “You should be sorry for being quiet. For not letting me hear you. Or see you."

I bit my lip, the wicked temptress that’d been forever confined far beneath the surface finally getting the chance to show herself. “Would you like me to remedy that for you?”

I could see Poe’s chest heave, lips parted. He nodded only once, dipping his head slowly.

Keeping my gaze focused directly to his, I brought two fingers to my mouth, gradually having them enveloped by my lips, tongue covering the skin with moisture. Poe stared eagerly as I pulled the digits slowly outwards, sucking gently, not once letting my eyes flicker away. With a small pop my fingers were free again, and I watched his breathing quicken while I began to move them down. Eventually, I reached the border of my pants, slipping my hand past the two layers of fabric that stood between their destination.

He wouldn’t be able to see this lower half of me, but that’s exactly how I wanted it. I wanted him to keep all of his interest towards my face, on my reactions, the sounds I would make.

My fingers skimmed over my already sensitive clit, closing my eyes and humming silkily in response to the touch, a delicious burn beginning to swelter in my abdomen. Knowing Poe was watching me made it grow hotter so much quicker, feeling my own breath hasten as I steadily moved over the centre of my arousal, an indulgent sigh escaping my throat. Allowing my lids to pull open, I caught the sight of Poe’s piercing eyes, his jaw tense with restraint.

“Maker, I would give anything to have you with me now,” he murmured.

“Yeah?” I said breathlessly. “Tell me what you would do, if I was there, right now.” I raised my eyebrows in challenge, not stopping the movement of my fingers, producing a craved moan whilst glaring right at him.

“Fuck,” he swore again, exasperated. “Alex… You are making this so much harder.”

I allowed a luscious smile to form on my lips. “Well I would hope so.”

Poe couldn’t stop himself from smirking, yet there was a serious edge to his voice when he spoke again. “You have no fucking idea.”

My front teeth bit hard on my bottom lip, visions of his erection throbbing underneath the material of his underwear holding all my attention. The thoughts made my centre clench, a rising feeling of pleasure now sparkling brightly from below. “Tell me Poe… Tell me what you’d do,” I pleaded, knowing his voice was a crucial component of the intense release I wanted him to witness.

I heard his shaky exhale crackle through the holo as he continued to watch my face intently. It took a moment for him to gather enough composure to form his first words. “I... I'd kiss you so hard your lips would be swollen for days.”

I hummed in response, a memory of the sting in my lips after being interrupted on Raxus.

“And… I’d brush my lips over that sweet spot at your shoulder, the one that made every muscle in your body tense against me.”

My eyes closed again, imagining the sensation he described, recalling the delightful shiver it ignited.

“But I… I wouldn’t stop there this time. I’d pull off your blouse, take off your bra, getting to squeeze those perfect, little tits in my hands, licking your pretty nipples, making you squeal for me.”

“Oh maker… Poe… You’re so good at this,” I gasped between heavy breaths, the flames burning within scorching my insides.

“I’ve had too much time apart from you to think about it, Alex. Imagining all the ways I’d make you come.”

A short explosion of passion rippled its way through. “Oh fuck. Keep going. Please.”

There was a rumbling groan that flowed from his throat before he resumed. “I would finally get rid of those fucking panties and slip my fingers into the wetness you’d made, just for me. And I’d bring them back to my mouth and taste it, taste you… Fuck, I would give anything just to taste you.”

I moaned, rocking my head back, fingertips continuing their silky motion, my arousal growing harsher with every passing moment.

“I’m struggling Alex,” he rasped, causing my lids to flutter open to his strained expression.

“What’s wrong?”

“Watching you, it’s making me… hurt.” His eyes flickered downwards through forceful breaths.

“I never said you couldn’t join me,” I panted. “Just don’t stop talking.”

Within the blur of my ecstasy-filled haze, I saw Poe shifting in his chair, able to observe the slow repetitive tensing of his right arm, his eyes scrunching closed in relief. The sight nearly tipped me over the edge right then and there.

His words grew more breathless as he continued our imagined encounter, low moans slipping into his pauses. “I’d kiss every inch of your naked body… Making my way to your sweet, swollen pussy… Licking at the juices dripping from you…”

I felt my entire figure tremble at the word he’d spoken, a small part of me shocked to my core at its use. But hearing it from this man, the way he groaned after it, I was dragged further inside the storm of pleasure thundering through my body.

“I… I wouldn’t be able to hold myself back anymore… desperate to take you… Make you mine… I’d press myself against you… Coating my cock in your wetness… Sliding over your slit… Getting you ready…”

Restraint left me, letting a powerful whine break free from my lungs, a shattering climax so close within my reach. But I furiously held myself back, desperate to hear more of Poe’s perfectly described visualisations.

The sound that escaped past my lips only made him more impassioned. “I’d fill you slowly… Pushing deeper into you… Having you stretch around me… Clutching your body even tighter… Hearing you moan just as hard as you are now.”

My head slammed against the wall behind me as a violent spike of pleasure made me begin to lose control. “Yes… Poe… I’m… I’m so close.”

I could tell he was edging towards his peak too, his breathing ragged, a fevered growl rising at my admission. He still continued to speak, using his words to push me further into bliss. “I’d thrust into you… Making you feel all of me... But I… I wouldn't be able to hold myself back… Fucking you harder… Deeper… Feeling your pussy get even wetter… Moaning louder… Filling you with my cock over and over again…”

“Poe! Oh fuck! I’m… I’m going to…”

And that was it.

I unravelled so swiftly, so deeply, crying out in uninhibited ecstasy, the fire below erupting into a white flamed blaze that raged through my limbs, setting my skin alight, my insides pulsing in satisfaction.

In the midst of my release I heard Poe come crashing into his own, the unreserved moans only extending the heavenly sensation of my orgasm. I let the feeling linger for as long as I could, wishing time didn’t have to move me away from this perfect moment.

There couldn’t be anything better than this. Better than him.

There is Alexys. Give it time. You’ll see.

~

Next Chapter

Tag list: @tlcwrites @roanniom @blackberries45 @hopeamarsu @caillea @princessxkenobi @leatherboundbirate @fathersonandhouseofgucci @paterson-blue @rosie-posie08 @tina1938 @general-latino​ @espuma-y-arrecife​

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#kylo ren #kylo ren x original female character #poe dameron #poe dameron x original female character #star wars #star wars fanfiction #adcu #adcu fanfiction #oicu #oicu fanfiction #kylo ren x reader #poe dameron x reader

[why-this-kolaveri-machi]

the wolf should’ve been afraid of me.

Titans 3.04

just under the wire! ... i hope.

like with the previous review, i’m typing this up as i see the episode. here we go!

spoilers ahead.

1. ... well. that was an interesting cold open.

1.25. i don’t know whether to admire this show’s restraint when it comes to gotham and its excesses, particularly arkham asylum. it’d be easy to go hammer and tongs, like suicide squad (2016) did, or any number of bat media did, at a tropey, colourful~~insanity~~ that can be quite damaging, casting mental illness in strangeness and criminality. it definitely shows gotham as... separate from the rest of the country, its own ecosystem of heroes and villains, a sort of rogue state. 

but that ecosystem is still human, with its heroes needing to clip parts of themselves away just to survive, growing old and needing to be recycled, its villains languishing in the same kinds of systems that fail everybody else who needs to be helped. it’s a quieter, tenser sort of wrongness: not strange enough that you can dissociate, but not close enough that you can completely empathise. gotham is its own creature.

1.5. i know that the reasoning behind this is more doylist than anything, but i’m so glad that joker was killed off with little fanfare right at the start of the season. he is the one man in the batverse that’s transcended its confines as this sort of ethereal boogeyman/eternal edgelord and to justify his presence in the series would mean giving him this tired, overblown importance and too much of a stab at colourful, tropey “madness” in this otherwise-subdued series. i wish all batmedia would follow suit and get rid of this fucker.

1.75. so jason is bucking scarecrow’s control! or reminding him of who exactly holds all the cards right now. circling back to what i talked about in the last review, it’s remarkable just how little time it’s been since jason’s “death” and he’s already got ‘minions’ and elaborately set up plans to track, break and kill the titans. just how long has he been planning this? when did he first look at WE weapons prototypes and think that’s something i can use to blow somebody up? and the most unsettling question: did he plan his own death at the hands of the joker just so that he could break batman?

at this point it’s obvious that the scarecrow at least started jason down this path, but it’s frightening just how far he’s travelled already.

1.8. aaagh, less than one minute in! i’ll shut up. 

2. conner washing his hands at the sink reminds me that he was directly in the line of explosion when hank got blown up and he’s probably got atomised hank-bits all over his skin that he’s desperately trying to wash off.

... you’re welcome.

2.25. conner, don’t you speak to gar fucking logan like that, sir, no!

2.3. if anything it’s the lex part of him that gave him the knowhow to recognise the weapon and build a de-activator for it. 

anyway, for that ‘half-breed’ and ‘talking tiger’ comment?

(i wish, tho, that we actually see conner more interested in the superman part of his legacy, like maybe listening to stories from gar, or even better, dick, so we get a better idea of the pressure he’s feeling to live up to that part of him and not the part that’s lex.)

((i talked about conner’s stages of moral development in his introductory episode last season, but i wonder if the next stage of his self-actualisation would be to further integrate the parts of himself and realise that they are only parts and he, conner, is an entirely different person unto himself that can make decisions on how to use what he has and what he knows. his superman abilities can be used to destroy. his lex knowledge can be used to save.))

3. oh dawn :((

3.25. is this the last we see of dawn and hank? i mean, we know donna is coming back; would it be a stretch to think they’ll try to have a go at resurrecting hank as well?

3.5. “deathstroke didn’t make us into killers.” good, because deathstroke didn’t make jason a killer either. there’s a missing step there you need to be looking for, dick. 

3.75. dick did try to break the cycle, step away from gotham, run from the possibility that he could turn into batman. it didn’t help; he couldn’t fully withdraw from his vigilante persona the same time he loathed it, and batman literally haunted him both asleep and awake. but maybe gotham doesn’t have to turn anybody into anything. maybe gotham has nothing to do with it at all. it’s about taking responsibility, realising some sacrifices are pure bullshit, and building an actual family instead of merely a team.

anyway: hugs!

(oh, also? mr “i hate flying”? i mean, there’s perfectly valid reasons to hate flying that’s not related to childhood trauma, but then again, this guy was literally a ‘flying grayson’ once. also also, remember that he also gets sea-sick. must’ve a lot of fun stories to tell.)

4. ooh that gar/kory confrontation was brief but cool!

listen, i have never seen a psychiatrist with that extravagant an office and SIR I WOULD LIKE TO KNOW HOW--

4.5. kory’s so unused to reaching out for help and it’s breaking my heart that HPG likely is some kind of impostor that’s maybe causing her symptoms in the first place. 

kory and dick have mostly been apart this season but it’s remarkable how their journeys have paralleled each other; kory processes her grief, isolation and existential dread into a determination to take care of this new family she has, no matter what it takes; dick does much the same, forging ahead with plans and solutions until he has no fuel left in him and spirals into a massive breakdown.

4.25. listen titans this really is a TERRIBLE continuity error. we aren’t goldfish; we can clearly remember that two minutes ago it was gar’s upper arm that was burned, not his forearm. COME ON.

“sensory deprivation tank” *SNORT*

anyway, gar is the BEST

4.5. i wonder where these visions of experimentation took place. was it on tamaran, or on earth, after she came to hunt down rachel/trigon and before she lost all her memories? is HPG a part of the scientist group that experimented on her? ... god, i hope not. i mean, i think he is, but it would be cool to have some positive therapist representation in media. 

5. you’d think the van transporting a dangerous supervillain that only batman could catch would be more secure but... i’m also not entirely surprised. 

5.15. i love dick gives ZERO shits about hiding himself or even ensuring scarecrow is adequately contained. just turns away after kidnapping him in BROAD DAYLIGHT and says ‘let’s go’. I LOVE THIS DUMBASS

6. lmao gar is having a really really shitty day SOMEONE GIVE THIS MAN A BREAK or just a goddamn story arc of his own

6.5. i’m really confused about the timeline here. so... sometime ago, kory came down to earth to hunt down trigon, yeah? at some further point down the line she and her sister were kidnapped and experimented on. THEN she somehow escapes but... loses her memory? a few months pass and then we see blackfire alive and well and free; she kills faddei, can impersonate other people, and is clearly seeking out kory. but now she’s still in the experiment facility...? what’s going on?

i’m not entirely surprised about the facility being mostly deserted. either the biggest investors in this project gave up on it and it was left to the most fanatic to carry on, or they were deliberately trying to lure kory and get her to free blackfire--expand the environs of the experiment, so to speak.

7. hopefully barbara is going to get something to do other than listen to various men give her Attitude

8. how do you terrorise a terrorist? well:

i love when dick is a scary-competent motherfucker.

8.25. ooooh, the attack on crane at arkham a ploy to get crane to blackgate? nice one dick, i didn’t even think of that. but why though? to protect crane from the titans? to intercept the van to blackgate and “rescue” him? seems likely--red hood was there, except dick got to crane quicker.

9. still reeeallly unclear about the komand’r situation. was komand’r captured after s2? is this all A TRAP?? if so, why are you stepping into the only thing that can contain you, kory????

9.25. so... definite parallels between dick/jason and kory/kom here. i’m just. i’m still. really confused. i’ll shut up now.

10. this may be my favourite dick look yet:

woodsman!dick in a beanie.

10.5. i unironically love how titans has made this bizarrely-devoted-to-his-moniker, toxin-spewing supervillain into a tamer version of hannibal, psychoanalysing his victims into submission. it’s of a piece with how inward looking titans is, the way all of its villains are obsessed with how our protagonists’ minds work, to the point where they would actually spend time inside of them. 

there are no big plots to end the world. no apocalypses or endgames here. these villains collect the titans’ insecurities like infinity stones. the way the titans defeat them is by achieving character growth--literally winning by the power of love. literally “the real superpower is the friends we made along the way”!

10.7. anyway, i’m betting dick is used to this bullshit from crane and is humouring him in the service of getting more information. the story about the wolf? an implicit threat, not to mention dick getting to control what crane knows about him and what methods he would use to manipulate him.

am i giving dick too much credit here? i don’t think so. he’s really impressed me so far this season.

10.75. like. there’s a real unreliable narrator vibe coming off with every person that talks about bruce (much like how the various members of the titans talked about jason’s motivations) and to buy into crane’s talk about bruce being a psychopath is to fall for the same manipulation that jason fell for. dick is the only person who hasn’t really psychoanalysed bruce this season, and i think some part of his detective brain is piecing things together into a bigger picture.

11. i’m glad kory rescued kom but did she have to kill the scientist?

(i mean, yeah, probably - the less people know that kom escaped the less likely they’re going to have the fucking govt on their doorstep, but still.)

11.5. dick’s gonna come back to wayne manor, stare straight at komand’r and go, well which room would you like? because the team might as well adopt ANOTHER person, yeah?

12. oh MAN that red hood/nightwing fight was AMAZING! and he did the thing! the boomerang escrima thing! i’m so delighted!

12.5. the anger and disbelief in dick’s voice when he says you told crane EVERYTHING?! tells me that he knew exactly what he was telling crane himself.

12.75. “everything you are is because of him” - oh that reminds me of halluci!bruce from last season. i hope we see halluci!bruce again--he is so vicious but so entertaining... so much more effective at tearing dick down than crane or jason combined. goes to show that dick’s biggest enemy is own fucking head.

12.8. oh no! dick’s shot! crane is in the wind with red hood! blackfire is now with the titans! i love it!

honestly this season’s pacing is such a big step up from the last couple. gold star, show.

#titans #titans spoilers #meta #dick grayson #koriand'r #garfield logan #komand'r #conner kent #dawn granger #jason todd #jonathan crane #a byronic cupcake #badass strawberry truffle #manic pixie pop tart #a tragic jalebi

[americanmoths]

inappropriate funeral questions

prompt: haunt me in the night | tw: discussions of dying, MCD | 1.5k lmao | on ao3

--

“Potter,” Draco says at the reception to Goyle’s funeral. “How is it you look exactly the same as the last time I saw you. That was almost 3 years ago.”

Andromeda Tonks’ funeral. Draco wore a black dress.

“Good skincare.” The same answer he gives Hermione. A joke so he doesn’t have to form an opinion on his complete lack of outward signs of aging over the past 5 years.

Draco steps closer and takes his hand. Studies it. Turns it over in his own hand, gentle, focused. Harry swallows.

“You’re unnaturally warm.” Draco points his wand at Harry. “Avada Kedavra.”

Then, nothing. And then, Draco.

“You came back.”

Harry shrugs. It’s not as though this is the first time.

“This is not the time and place to discuss any of this. How about my place, tonight? I’ll give you my address. Bring wine,” Draco says.

“Are you, err, asking me on a date?”

“No, I’m asking you on a secret rendezvous to discuss the bizarre set of circumstances we’ve both found ourselves in.”

“But there will be wine.”

“Yes, Potter! Because we’re adults. Because despite the fact that I look 19, I’m actually 25 and thus will drink as much wine as I want whether on a date or not!”

“You know you look the same as you did 3 years ago too!” Harry calls after Draco as he walks away.

—

“Do you think I’m a bad son for leaving early?” Draco asks at what would be the reception to Narcissa’s funeral. He had left halfway through the ceremony, apparently to raid the communion wine stash and drink alone in the church basement.

“I think you’re grieving. It’s not as though your mom will know you left.”

“Don’t say that,” Draco says. “Don’t say that. She’s not gone. She’s just … somewhere else.”

“Whatever you say, Draco.”

Draco scowls. “No, not whatever I say. Don’t placate me.”

He aims his wand at Harry. A green flash.

Then, nothing. Then, Draco, looking almost sheepish.

“Sorry, I know you asked me to warn you, but I’m drunk, and it’s my mother’s funeral. I’m allowed to forget things.” Draco sighs. “I like that you come back. That we come back. Because if you can come back, then that means that she can come back, wherever she is. It means the matter preserves itself. It means —”

Harry’s heard what it means several times before. Draco’s fond of this particular speech — it staves off Draco's fear of death, Harry suspects. Harry doesn’t understand most of the points Draco makes, but he listens anyways. Draco’s mind moves faster than his does — than anyone’s does, probably. He’s the one that figured out the Fiendfyre hadn’t died as much as it had escaped. It burns still, inside the two people who spent the longest time zig-zagging through its flames. It preserves the two of them. Prevents them from dying.

Keeps them so warm, he thinks as he runs his fingers up and down Draco’s shoulder. He can feel the fire trapped there, still burning inside lovely, grieving, drunk Draco who sighs again and says, “Sometimes when I look at you, I can’t figure out if what I feel for you is real or if it’s because you represent the possibility of seeing everyone I ever love again.”

“What you … feel for me?”

“Yes. The — you know, pseudoscientific ‘heart-opening’ feeling.”

“Errrrr …”

“Don’t worry about it,” Draco says. “I’ll tell you when I figure it out.”

He sighs with his whole body, his head landing in Harry’s lap. “I think I’d like it if you stroked my hair.”

Harry does. He feels warm. He feels good. He feels as though he’ll wait forever for this dumb-ass intellectual to figure out the pseudoscientific heart-opening feeling is love.

—

“Do you think I look different now that I’m an orphan?” Draco asks after Lucius’ funeral.

“Oh, yes, you look more handsome. All orphans are handsome didn’t you know?” Harry says. “It’s my honor to welcome you to our elite and exclusive club.”

Draco snorts and finishes off a second bottle of wine. “I keep on thinking about all the things he hated about me and how I’ve doubled down on them. Like animals, he hated animals and I have a crup, a dog and a phoenix. And he always told me I overthink things, and now I’m an academic. Kissing boys, also a no, no.”

Harry doesn’t want to think about Draco kissing other boys. Not when he has yet to kiss him.

“Being immortal, that’s a thing I’m sure he wouldn’t approve of,” Harry says.

“Definitely. I’m sure he hates that I outlived him. Well, sort of outlived him,” Draco waves his hand. “I don’t want to think about whatever happens on the other side right now; I’m in too good of a mood. Dancing! He would’ve hated that I dance.”

“I didn’t know you dance.”

“Of course I can dance. Here. Let me show you,” he pulls Harry snug against him, casts a music spell. Harry doesn’t recognize the song, or the dance, but he recognizes the desire in the other boy’s eyes.

“I want to kiss you,” Draco says.

“I know you do,” Harry leans toward Draco, wet heat against wet heat; a fire that burns forever, greeting itself.

Time restarts. When Harry pulls back, Draco’s 29. As old as he’s supposed to be.

—

“Why did you come?” Draco spits at the reception to his ex-lover’s funeral. Tim? Ted? Travis? Harry never learned his name out of spite.

“I wanted to see you.”

“That’s massively inappropriate.”

“I’m supporting a friend. I know how you get at funerals.” Drunk.

“I’m fine. It was cancer; it wasn’t as though it was a surprise. He was in a lot of pain. He wanted to go.” Draco sighs. “We used to argue about that all the time. I was smarter than Toby, but he was much better at arguing, so when we really got going, we could go for days. It’s been so quiet now that he’s — wherever he is. I think I’m scared of being alone. I think I’ve had a little too much wine.”

“You don’t have to be alone, you know. I’m not saying we have to do anything, but you don’t have to be alone.”

“I can’t. Every time I see you, I want to kiss you, but if I kiss you, then it’ll restart our clocks. It’ll kill us, and I’m more scared of dying than I am of being alone.”

“I know you are.”

“How come you’re not?”

“I trust you to do the thinking for the both of us. Sorry, is that unfair? It’s not as though I can keep up with you in the thinking department anyways. I trust you, and you said there’s a flip-side, that we’re proof that there’s a flip-side. Which means all there is is just somewhere else I get to explore with you.”

Draco leans down and kisses his hand. Harry feels the burn pass from Draco to him, feels the fire inside him dim. He gets older by two year, three.

But he feels it more when Draco walks away.

—

“Have you ever seen a phoenix die?” Draco asks at what Harry guesses is supposed to be a funeral for his pet phoenix, Kelvin. He’s sitting in his favorite armchair, dressed in black, still as 29 as when Harry kissed him 29 almost 70 years ago. Kelvin died, please come, that’s all his owl had said.

“No?” Harry says.

“I expected as much. Obviously, die isn’t the right word. Metamorphosis, that’s the word I’ve decided fits best. Because obviously, he’s here still.” Draco indicates the flaming baby bird sitting in a ring of ash on the corner of the armchair. “But his memories were erased, and that’s a kind of death. Kelvin was old for a phoenix — I think he was holding out for me, and he finally realized that I had no intention of going. But it was his time. I watched, out of respect. It was … beautiful. He looked so relieved. As though, finally, he could rest.”

“Errrr you know actually I think maybe I did see that. With Fawkes.”

Draco laughs and runs his hand across his face. “I’m trying to make a segue, you know. To tell you I’m ready. I thought if I was poetic about the whole thing It’d make me less scared, but it didn’t. I’m still scared.”

“I know you are.” Harry says and pulls Draco close to him. Draco rests his head against Harry’s chest. “It’s ok. We’ll be together.”

He slides two fingers under Draco’s chin, angles it up to his face. Waits for Draco to be ready. The longest moment of Harry’s very long life.

Draco looks as though he has something he wants to say, but he never speaks. He leans forward and kisses Harry.

All of the years come at once. 29; 39; 49. His back hurts; his legs ache; he feels comfortable in his body in a way his youth never allowed. 59; 69; 79, on. Two old men, falling into inevitability. Reaching together for what’s next.

There’s Draco, and Draco, and only Draco. And then nothing at all.

#alternative title: the years start coming and they don't stop coming #drarry microfic #drarrymicrofic #drarry squad #draco malfoy #harry potter #ive been trying to write microfics that are not dialogue heavy to force myself to ~grow as an artist~ oops

[phantom-curve]

Happy 2nd Borthday!! From your prompt list, 24 or 29 for Willex? AU your choice.

Thank you! So, I somehow managed to combine both of these prompts and it may or may not be absolute chaos. Inspired by the time my husband told me he learned to take my tickle aversion seriously after I full on kicked him in the balls, please enjoy ticklish Alex and regretful Willie, set in a high school AU where everyone is alive!

#24: whispering in their ear, lips touching skin & #29: tickling the other one (Rated T for language)

So, it probably hadn’t been the smartest choice to let Willie know just how ticklish he was. Usually, Alex kept that little tidbit to himself as long as he possibly could. Maybe it was because Luke, Reggie, and Bobby had figured it out in third grade and continued to use it to their advantage every chance they got. Maybe it was because his dad always told him that real men weren’t ticklish. Whatever the reason, Alex didn’t typically share how ridiculously sensitive to tickling he was unless he absolutely had to. And right now, he was desperately wishing he hadn’t ever told Willie about it. Because what he had also neglected to tell Willie, was exactly how violently he reacted to tickling. And not in a cute way, but in an actual I will seriously hurt you way.

Which was why Willie was currently rolling around the floor of the Molina’s studio, curled in on himself, moaning in pain.

“Willie?! Oh my God, I am so sorry!”

Alex wanted nothing more than to reach out to comfort the other boy but given the fact that he had just elbowed him full force directly below the belt, it didn’t really feel like his comfort would be appreciated. Willie didn’t respond with much more than a quiet groan and Alex’s guilt grew exponentially.

“Okay, okay, I’m gonna...I’m gonna go grab some ice and I’ll be right back!”

He fled from the studio before Willie had a chance to respond, tearing up the path from the studio to the Molina’s house as if his feet were on fire. Julie, bent over a Calculus book with Luke hovering distractedly at her side, raised a judgmental brow as he burst into the kitchen.

“Aren’t you supposed to be having your little study date out in the studio? Where’s Willie?”

“Hmmm, yeah, yes, I am, but uhhhh, I need some ice.”

Alex had already stuck his head in the freezer, rummaging past bagged tamales left by Tía to hunt down the ice pack he knew was lurking somewhere within the frozen depths. Luke chuckled loudly from his spot at the breakfast bar.

“What gives, dude? Did you try and impress him with your mad drum skills and accidentally chuck a drumstick at his head because you were so distracted by his beauty?”

Alex pulled his head from the ice box to stick his tongue out in Luke’s direction.

“No. Not all of us fuck up playing just because the object of our affection happens to smile at us.”

Luke’s cheeks turned a bright red and Alex silently applauded his victory. Luke hadn’t managed to properly play through the bridge of Finally Free once since Julie had started sharing the mic with him during it. Take that Biceps McSleeveless. Julie rolled her eyes, oblivious as always to the underhanded barbs passed between the boys.

“Okay, so, why are you suddenly pawing through my freezer like you’re searching for Narnia? And, again, where’s Willie?”

Alex felt his own cheeks warm to match Luke’s. It wasn’t really worth lying about, even if it meant accepting a certain amount of ribbing from Luke in the aftermath.

“I, uhhh, might have maybe told Willie about how ticklish I am? And I might have maybe hit him in the balls when he tried to test just exactly what I meant??”

Julie, to her credit, maintained a strict poker face. Luke, on the other hand, lost his shit completely, falling off the stool as he laughed his goddamn ass off at Alex’s misfortune.

“It’s not my fault!” Alex tried to protest. “I told him I couldn’t be held accountable for my reactions when I was tickled! I just...didn’t tell him that my reaction might be no holds barred violence? Fuck he’s never gonna go on an actual date with me now.”

Alex felt his shoulders slump, the shame weighing heavy on his conscience. If only he could be like the other boys, normal and not so ticklish that he completely blanked and went into fight or flight mode with his dial always turned to fight. Things had been going so well before the whole tickle incident too! Willie had been kind and patient with Alex as they worked their way through a series of physics questions in his homework. At one point Alex had even sworn that Willie got so close Alex could practically feel his breath along his neck, the atmosphere shifting into a kind of charged tension as Willie whispered directions for solving the problem right into Alex’s ear. Just the thought of Willie’s lips against the skin of his neck had Alex feeling a bizarre mix of hot and cold all over. He shivered at the memory, and then remembered he was standing in front of the open freezer door. Julie squeezed in next to him, grabbing an ice pack from one of the shelves and pressing it into Alex’s hand.

“Lex, breathe, okay? Willie probably feels just as bad for tickling you in the first place. You were as honest as you needed to be about that and he’s probably kicking himself for pushing past your boundaries.”

“Right, yeah, okay? Right? Like...we can both be at fault here, yeah? I can just...go apologize and give him the ice and everything will be okay, right?”

“Right,” Julie agreed, guiding Alex back towards the back door and shooting Luke a death glare as he rolled around the kitchen floor still laughing. “Just...go apologize and see what happens. It’s not the end of the world.”

“Okay...okay,” Alex nodded. “Not the end of the world. I fucking ball racked the dude I’ve had a crush on for months but it’s not the end of the world. Yeah. Okay.”

Julie nodded and practically shoved Alex down the path back to the studio before closing the door behind him, the lock clicking into place as a clear indicator that she would not be letting him back inside before he dealt with this. Alex tripped his way down to the studio and took a deep breath to steel himself before wrenching the garage doors open and slipping back inside. Willie had managed to move from the floor to the couch, though he was still half folded over in pain. Alex offered him the ice pack with a sheepish smile.

“I’m uhhh really fucking sorry about that. I didn’t...I should have warned you that when I said I was really ticklish I actually meant ‘don’t tickle me unless you want to be violently assaulted.’”

Willie looked up at him through his long, messy brown locks, taking the ice pack with a kind of dignity Alex only wished he could fake right then. And then, he smiled, actually fucking smiled, like everything was fine.

“Don’t worry about it, dude. I shouldn’t have tried to test it. You told me you were ticklish, and I should have left it at that. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

“Made me...made me uncomfortable? Willie, I fucking elbowed you in the...!”

Alex gestured helplessly and then realized exactly what he was doing and let out a high-pitched whine of embarrassment. Willie giggled softly.

“I mean, I was kind of asking for it. You have a right to react like that when someone touches you in a way that you don’t like. I’m just mostly sorry that I took advantage of you like that. I swear that was not how I pictured our first date going.”

Alex’s brain short circuited. Nothing but a blank blue screen as Willie’s words repeated in his mind endlessly: first date first date first date.

“This was a date?”

Not the best line, but could Alex really be blamed for such a lame response when his brain wasn’t actually properly working anymore?

“I mean...yeah I was kind of hoping it was?”

Willie laughed quietly, only a small bit of awkwardness tinging his tone.

“No, no...I mean, yeah! I...I also wanted it to be a date...if that’s...cool with you?”

Look, Alex had never claimed to be smooth. Socially awkward and anxious, yes. Smooth? Hell no. Willie stood, stepping close to Alex until the scent of his coconut shampoo tickled Alex’s nose. He dropped the ice pack to the floor with a plop, reaching up to move an errant strand of hair out of Alex’s face with ice cold fingers. Alex felt frozen to the spot, especially as Willie leaned in close, just like before, so that Alex could feel his hot breath across his neck, his words floating through the small space to twist themselves into Alex’s ear.

“Hey Alex, wanna go on a date with me?”

Alex stuttered for a short second, desperately searching for the only acceptable words to answer a question like that.

“Yes...yeah...yes, definitely.”

Willie laughed again and Alex could swear he felt the way the other boy’s lips quirked into a smile against his skin.

“Awesome. I promise not to tickle you this time.”

Send me prompts for my second birthday!

#mads writes #send me prompts for my birthday! #so I learned while writing this that 'ball racked' isn't actually a term outside of my high school group of friends #but actually it's a GREAT term and should be used more regularly so you're welcome for that #willex #jatp #julie and the phantoms #willex ficlet #jatp ficlet #willex week

[snake-0il-moved]

STEAM-POWERED STARTERS

roleplay starters taken from steam powered giraffe lyrics

change pronouns to your liking

"Is there such a thing as too much of a good thing?"

"I'm rather crazy, and I never thought I was crazy."

"Set me free"

"I let myself go."

"I don't want to live my life alone."

"It's easy to be angry at something that you don't understand."

"What’s the worth o’living if you can’t make a living?"

"Open your heart to me."

"You gotta get to the emergency room."

"You're ready to go far."

"Come with me, I'll show you how to be a metal man!."

"What is life?"

"What is real?"

"Why do living things need feelings?"

"Don't want to hear you say I love you."

"Will I ever be something with feelings to hide?"

"You're not a living thing with feelings."

'Unhinged laughter'

"Everything is fine as long as there’s a you and me."

"We don't have to worry anymore."

"We’ll keep us moving like a soliton."

"It will kill me, it’ll be messy."

"If my logic isn’t sound, what’s keeping our feet on the ground?"

"I’d rather be up in the clouds, but I’d worry, about coming down"

"Here we are, feeling worlds apart."

"Is it wrong to be pulled along by a song?"

"But if you don't go out at all, you'll never feel the rain."

"Functioning just fine, I'm alive."

"We might have our share of ticks, but that's how we get our kicks."

"The best shape is who you are."

"I want more from this stupid life."

"Do you want more from this stupid life?"

"To be pristine, you must be joking!"

"I have awakened to the same thing."

"I don't have the heart to send you untruthful words."

"Reading love and writing love, technically the same thing."

"I am a living thing, I am not a human being."

"I can't see straight no more."

"I'm still so far away."

"Lyin' awake like I've been before."

"It seems to me okay is the only word I say today."

"Same lines that you rehearse."

"Tryin’ to swallow your worth."

"They left me!"

"What's in the sky?"

"There must be something more."

"Now we’re tangled in a web like flies!"

"Happiness sits in the palm of your hand"

"There's no time for breaking down"

"Please take this away from me"

"I now have everything, it is the greatest thing."

"Apparently there's parts of me that stick around too long."

"I promise I'll be back soon."

"I told you I'd hold you."

"I will return."

"I waited so long, I no longer care."

"You told me you'd hold me."

"Looks like there's no place to run."

"So this is pain?"

"I feel alive!"

"Scream, howl like a banshee."

"You can’t save your soul."

"Die, die, die!"

"Rise, rise, rise!"

"I’ve always hungered for their plight."

"Those cats are bizarre."

"Oh what a taste and oh what a thrill."

"You fill up my black toxic heart with your hate."

"I am the horror that eats you inside!"

"The doors are all locked down."

"Sirens are blaring."

"How could I forget?"

"I've seen this all before."

"She had fire in her eyes."

"She was brimming with hyper cosmic ultra vibes."

"He's charming."

"Daring and dashing and just when you need him he's there."

"He's got your back."

"I can tell by the look on your face, you've got some things on your plate."

"You must remember, you're only human.

"You've got better things to do."

"Your memories they stick, mine I can't delete."

"Remember to stand before you can fly."

"Oh the choice is up to you, nobody else but you."

"Maybe I'm only human with rusted metal plating."

"Hope is very hard."

"Hope is very hard when you've lost the thing you had before."

"Your smile said that you cared and It felt so wonderful."

"I helped you up when you'd fall. You did the same for me too."

"Though mine is metal and yours is flesh. Our differences make this the best."

"I grew numb to that feeling of pain."

"Things get quite mad when you’ve got no soul."

"But as far as I run, and as hard as I try, I can never seem to make it out."

"It’s the truth that I dread.

"Tomorrow we’ll be back to tearing wires from our head."

"There’s no one left to blame, just the things that I have said."

"Tonight you are dead."

"I thought it was the end of days."

"Never growing, never dying, never learning, it’s concerning."

"I will never be free."

"I want the world to know that I am in control."

"As they look upon my broken soul they’ll say “She was her own worst foe”."

"Find some nerve for this coward now."

"You can weld me to my knees but I won’t pray for mercy, no."

"I could never walk easily through life."

"Oh darling, I've arrived to you with my heart already in two."

"I always told myself I’d never fall in love."

"I hope it’s not petty."

"I can feel it when you say you love me."

"They say our thoughts are all mechanical."

"Can’t help being the way that I am."

"But you don’t like that way that I feel"

"Don’t wish the pain on you it’s so sore."

"Eat your heart out, Cassanova."

"They say it gets better, but it don’t get better."

"And I don’t want you to weep, but your tears are sweet wine."

"Such lovely tears."

"I don't think there's a name for it, but it's kinda like being in love."

"Well, it's the way she makes me feel inside like I’m not like the rest or any other guy."

"Oh no."

"It couldn't be him, hadn't he died long ago?"

"How could anyone hope to survive?"

"No, I didn't want to see what I've become."

"I certainly am a long way from home."

"I was built to explore."

"I must carry on."

"Man, that's really cool."

"We don't know how to dance."

"We just carry ourselves in an overdriven stance."

"I wake up and no one else is around, but her."

"There's no one to tell us what to do."

"I’m not alone against the world anymore."

"Look out, earth."

"You left me all alone."

"What future can I hope to see?"

"There's a void in my soul."

"l am not just a machine, I'm just a person holding onto a dream."

"Just give in."

"Watch and see."

"Lately your love of life has been fading."

"It'll be alright."

"You're not in this alone."

"There was a rift between you and me, but happiness was a choice."

"It’s never as simple as it seems."

"I found a way into your heart."

"You saved me, saved me from own foolish blight.

"I’m strong now, strong enough to cry only at night.

"There's a world out there waiting for you."

#roleplay memes #roleplay starters #steam powered giraffe #lyrics #lyrical starters #rp meme #rp starter #rp prompts #i spent 3 hours on this #i tried leaving out most of the robot-y lyrics since not every roleplayer is a dummy like me.