#I got a really bad headache today and thought I'd die | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

adoregojo · 4 months

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⊹ ࣪ ˖ conversations on the lap ₊˚⊹

characters ➤ bachira, reo, isagi, nagi warning ➤ disgustingly fluffy,

bachira.m

"so today the couch made us do extra exercise today." the brown-yellow haired male explained co-speech his hands to emphasis his words while you listened carefully.

"mhm."

"then shidou stepped on rin's foot, i don't think it was an accident," he kept looking back at you every second to make sure you were still interested, so you run your fingers through his slick brown locks while nodding for him to continue, both to assure him you were listening and because he loved when you did that, said it made him feel fuzzy and soft.

"than a huugee fight began and me and otoya were like 'fight, fight, fight!'" he raised his fists to the air in intense for you to laugh, which he always succeeded at because you were letting out a light chuckle that made his chest huff proudly.

"aha." you hummed.

"then they were pulling each other's hair like a girls fight, i almost got bald from laughing!" bachira couldn't help but snort at the memory while holding his chest, he was actually rolling on the ground laughing his ass off at that time.

"i'm really glad you didn't." you said softly, as you bent down pushing his hair out of the way to press your lips on his forehead which made him bashfully giggle kicking his feet a little, his carefree smile turned into a sheepish one, somehow all the exhaustion from practice flow out the window when he was with you.

"would you think i still look handsome if i was bald tho?" suddenly he said with a serious face.

"meg.."

reo.m

"would you love me if i was worm?" the heir asked you, this was a Poverty of the week where reo would question you about how much you love him, it's not like he doubts your feelings for him however there was days where he just didn't needs extra love to feel alive breath into him again, yes this is how much your words affect him.

"i'd sure do." you assured him with a gentle smile.

"if i die would you get with another man?" the thoughts of another guy stealing you away for him will haunt him for eternity since he had that one nightmare, he had to sped his next week crying in your arms while you held him like a baby, and him begging you not to get bored of him. definitely his worst nightmare of all time.

"don't think i will."

the purple head took your hand and suffocated it between his palm, like he was begging you to be honest, "do you still love me?" reo pouted at you, you swore you almost saw tears run down his face as if you were gonna actually reject him.

you felt bad for almost laughing at his childish behaviour, but at the same time lucky because you were the only one who gets to see the reo mikage like this. "we're engaged, but sure yes i still love you very dearly." you made sure your tone was confident enough to wipe that expression out of his handsome face.

you caressed his cheek with your hand, rubbing your thumb across his skin in comfort. reo couldn't help but lean forward your loving touch that made him feel he was in the safest place he could ask for. you gave him a kiss on the tip of his nose and he chuckled sheepishly at the action.

"i feel very loved right now." he says as a little blush crossed his face with his usual grin back on it place.

"m glad."

isagi.y

"why do people call it building when it's already built." if you got money on every time your boyfriend would ask stupid questions like that you would've beaten the mikage themselves.

"english rules i guess." you said as you let a sigh, it's not that you hated it but something his questions are so unrelated that it gave you headaches. but you never persuaded him to stop it, letting him ask whatever came to his mind like you were the divining goddess with all the answers.

"do you think ants have a life like us?"

"guess so."

"did you know that noel noa is the best world player right now?" he pointed his finger out with a goody smile as if he was saying something unusual, missing the glasses he looked like a damn nerd and you loved it. he stared confused at you as you laughed a bit at his words, at least he made you laugh?

"i do, i hope one day you'll be even better than him." your words were genuine enough for his beep ocean eyes to glee at you and to caught some bug stomach, he would never get use to flicker you always gave him with such simple words.

a lovesick smile spread on his face as he ask the next question unintentionally, "can i have a kiss?"

before he could catch up on his words, your soft lips smacked his own into a gentle kiss. he kissed you back but not enough before you backed away. he was awestruck as his face turned red before mirroring your smile.

"thank you."

nagi.s

"im dead."

"sei, you're not dead." you called him out with a pinch he barely reacted to, ever since he stepped in the apartment all he has been able to do is jump on you like he hadn't seen you in years taking all the space on the couch with his massive build, not patting an eye at your cries for him to get up because you couldn't feel your legs anymore.

"careful what you say, it might be the last thing i hear." he muffled while his cheek was resting on your thigh, felt it was like his one and only pillow. he was like a fat lazy cat especially when he kept rubbing his face against your thighs skin.

"you're so dramatic." you complained as you stroked his back which nagi let out a quiet sound at almost like a purr.

"you love me though." he said softly, his voice low and his words meant for your ears only.

"unfortunately." you teased back,

"hmph." nagi pouted at your words.

"was your day that bad? you want me to give you kisses to ease it?" you mostly meant it as a joke until you never seen someone mood change so fast, even for nagi. his was half closed eyes were now more opened in excitement that flowers would float around him.

he pointed his finger at his forehead, "i want one here." as you gave him a kiss where he pointed you couldn't help but let a smile slip on your face, nagi didn't seem to mind as long as he felt your affection.

this time it was each finger pointing at one of his cheek, "here too." you don't know if it consider cheating but he looked so eager you simply obeyed and gave him a pack each cheek.

"and here." finally he pointed at his lips for a final request, the cherry on top. your lips against his were always heavenly, like you two were kissing for the first time and it still made him light-headed when you two parted. the tip of his ears getting red as you spared him a shining smile that was to him the brightest light in the merciless cold night that he was begging to warm his iced heart to make his heart beat again.

"how about now?"

"I'm on the verge of dying, you should give me more kisses so i could survive."

have a nice day everyone!!

#blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock #bachira x reader #isagi x reader #nagi x reader #reo x reader

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the-dawn-star · 1 year

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Place to Stay 22 Klaus M. x Gilbert!Reader x Elijah M.

A/N: Hello everyone and I'm sorry for the long wait. Life is getting hard but I hope you haven't lost your intrest just yet.

-S

+2500ish words, and proofread by lovely Ana_Mia_Lisa on ao3.

All interactions are highly appreciated!!

Waking up had never felt harder than it did now, right now, at this very moment. I did not attempt to push away the covers, probably because my whole body ached. The lack of an active heating system didn't help much.

Whose turn was it to pay the electrical company this month?

Now that I think about it, it was such a mundane thing to worry about…electrical bills…what a joke.

I’d have to check the calendar to be sure, but I was pretty certain that my sister must've missed her turn. And not for the first time.

Not that she seemed to care that our house lacked a heating system.

The list of things Elena cared about were surprisingly limited these days.

Apparently, I didn't make it in her new list.

I pulled my feet closer to my body, sustaining as much of the heat as I could.

Back when we were still a team, we devised a plan, my sister and I, to have each other's backs, to support each other no matter what life threw at us. We would both get jobs if we needed to, maybe sell a few things. We promised to keep ourselves a float no matter what, we made it our top priority.

Obviously, both our priorities had changed since then. Hers had become murder and betrayal. And mine…, I wasn't sure what my priorities were anymore.

I let out a groan, finally finding the strength to move, reaching for my phone, and not because I was expecting a call.

Old habits die hard I suppose. Sometimes too hard…

Instead of my phone, my hand made contact with a vase, causing it to fall to the ground, shattering into a million pieces. That made me jump out of bed at last.

Maybe, even if I wasn’t going to go to school, I could be productive, maybe...

Maybe I could do something actually useful instead of lying-in bed with no sense of the responsibility that I had. Responsibility that I have for mom and dad, for Jenna…

I tiptoed towards the door, opening it slightly, not sure if the crash had been loud enough to wake up the whole house or not.

And then I remembered the painful–but also comforting– truth, no one was home.

I was alone. And that was a good thing, I needed time to think, to put the events that happened into perspective.

I got into some comfortable–and warm– clothes, fetched the mop and two plastic bags from the kitchen, and I started to clean.

The sky was gray, my sweater was gray, my mood was gray.

Could it get any worse than this?

My answer might've been no if you'd asked me that question roughly forty-eight hours ago, but that was before my sister thought me expandable.

During the day, I tidied the house, cleaned the kitchen, dusted the photo frames and did two sets of laundry,–most of it being my clothes, which wasn't surprising, Elena seemed to practically be living in the Salvatore’s residence.–

School was a solid no today, for obvious reasons. Besides, I was so behind on homework. And I’d already called in sick for work.

It was nice to just clean around the house and just be.

Around midday, after cleaning the downstairs bathroom, I felt a bad headache coming along, the pain running wild behind closed eyes.

Unfortunately, we had no pain killers on hand, most of them had expired and I'd thrown them out earlier that day.

I made my way to the kitchen, maybe if I ate something I'd feel better. I sat behind the counter with my slightly wizened apple in front of me. I didn't feel like eating it– or anything really–.

I just wanted to close my eyes and forget yesterday, and the day before that. Just to concentrate on the good things and maybe, possibly forget the gray world around me.

My throat burned–the culprate probably being dehydration–, just like the back of my eyes. It took over my mind and numbed my senses. Enabling me to feel anything but a dull aching pain. I guess in that sense the pain from the headache was preferable to the pain of my shame–and possibly regret–.

My phone vibrated. Again. It had been doing so since morning and the day before, also a few times during the night. But I hadn’t bothered to look at any of the texts.

I sighed, getting up and putting the apple back in the fridge, and decided that the living room needed a change of decor–and perhaps the windows needed to be cleaned–.

As I moved the single red armchair to the other corner, I saw something I wish I hadn't seen. Jenna's key chain. It must've fallen off sometime. I could distinctly remember her looking for it everywhere.

The key chain felt heavy in my hands, and I had no idea what to do with it. Jenna certainly didn't need it anymore.

I decided to put it back in its place near the door, if not for any reason than for the vain sense of nostalgia. This house didn't feel like my house anymore. It wasn't home. It was just a place we slept in,–mostly me, by the looks of things–.

And who was it that once said something about homes being where hearts were?

---

As the hours creeped by and the light of day gave way to darkness, my tasks came to an end as well. I would've loved to sit on the porch and enjoy the night's cool air–if I wasn't scared to leave my own house, that is–. All my homework was done, as well as the dishes, the vacuuming, dusting, scrubbing the sink, and of course the laundry that was still drying.

My self obligatory tasks were good distractions, they left me very tired– just like I wanted–, but also, there was this painful truth, that if I wouldn’t have done the chores, no one else would.

Because the only person actually living here was me now. Upstairs my phone had rang at least thrice and not once did I go up the stairs to retrieve it.

It was only seven o’clock but I was exhausted.Exhausting was good though, because then I wouldn't feel so miserable when thinking about what had happened. Exhausting was…perfect.

The doorbell rang, plucking me out of my thoughts. I froze.

Someone was behind that door.

I should open the door. But what if Damon was behind it? or Stefan or…Elena?

Nevertheless, it's better if I open the door than them–whoever they were– kicking it open.

I threw myself off the couch and ran towards the door, standing in front of it.

And then I stopped. I really didn't want to open it.

“I know you're in there, Y/N.”

I sighed, angering an Original wasn't a part of my plans for the day.

“Open this door, Y/N. I shall not ask again.”

Rebekah sounded destructive and not very interested in preserving my house.

“Why are you here?” I said, certain that the vampire could hear me through the door.

My first words for the day… How lovely.

“I shall be keeping you company today.”

The day was almost over. But I didn't tell her that.

“Perhaps tomorrow?”

“Are you rejecting my company?”

“What? No! I…”

“Then I shall be keeping you company then, believe me, I'm one of the more preferable options, and least I'm a company that is not involved with you intimately.”

That shut me up.

Rebekah tapped her perfect heels impatiently on the porch. She had a high sense of fashion. Of course she did. Being a thousand years old did that to a girl. And that was just what Rebekah was.

A girl.

“You are not invited into my house.”

“I suppose not.”

Was she giving me an out? Did that mean I could actually refuse to invite her in? Perhaps. But was it wise to do so? Was it safe to do so? Perhaps not.

I took one deep breath before breaking my bubble of ignorance that I’d built around me throughout the day.

I averted my eyes from hers before taking a few steps back and giving her the space to walk in. “Come on in then.” I murmured, my eyes glued to my feet.

Angering a vampire wasn't wise, angering an Original was pure stupidity.

She stepped in, walking past me and into the living room, before settling herself on the couch. “Come on, sit down. Unless you are planning on standing there the rest of the night.”

What was that saying about unwanted guests again?

Nevertheless, the female Original wasn't your average guest now, was she? No, no, Rebekah Mikaelson wasn't like any other person in this messed up town. She was confident, proud and of course, purly, entirely and unmistakably herself.

My school mates tried to imitate her. They failed, of course. She was the kind of person who owned whatever space she walked in–my house stood as the perfect example–.

Was it just natural to her or was it required with thousands of years of practice? I didn't know, I'm not entirely sure she did either.

I let myself fall on one of the armchairs.

“So, my brother told me about what happened to you.”

Had Klaus told her or had Elijah? I wondered.

Rebekah bit her lip, crossing one of her delicate ankles over the other. If she had wanted to say something more, she didn't. It wasn't her place to do so. However, Rebekah Mikaelason wasn't one for holding her tongue. But I didn't think our friendship–or lack thereof–was enough for her to feel particularly sorry or concerned for me.

“ Is this why you are here? Did he put you up to this?”

“Niklaus is concerned for you, but no, none of them put me up to this.”

I raised an eyebrow, like I could snatch the truth from between her carefully chosen words.

Rebekah stayed quiet for a minute too long.

“I know what it feels like to get stabbed in the back. Your sister did just that to me.”

I opened my mouth to object, she didn't let me.

“And she was not the first, Klaus has done the same over the centuries, more than I care to count.”

She sat tall while speaking about her trauma, like she was talking about something as mundane as the weather. It put me on edge. How broken could one be to even be slightly fazed in the face of such cruelty?

But she wasn't completely unfazed now, was she? Oh no, if you took the time to look closely, you could see her fingers playing with the hem of her blouse. It was a slight sign, barely visible and all too easy to miss. Not for me. Certainly not for me. It dawned on me that maybe she needed to be comforted, not give comfort.

Were vampires in the habit of going to therapy?

Unlikely, it would be too complicated.

But Rebekah Mikaelson should definitely consider it nonetheless.

Has she ever talked about the stuff that she had gone through to anyone? or did she bottle up all the anger, hurt and hatred? Hoping that it would explode when she was in the company of someone unpleasant? Someone who deserved it…?

“Should I go to therapy?”

Her sudden chuckle surprised me. She shrugged. “Honestly, I wouldn't recommend it. Not for you at least.”

“Why?”

“Therapists are disposable after we're done with them.”

“What does that even…oh”

“How do you deal with it, then? You know your own family is hurting you.” I couldn't help but ask.

“It is no easy feat, but eventually, you try to forget and look past it. Every time that Klaus has killed me– regardless of him being in the wrong or not– he and I both knew that it wouldn’t be forever. In your case however, your livelihood wasn't the first– or second– priority.”

An invisible hand clenched itself around my heart. I knew Rebekah was speaking the truth. The fact that it was painful or I wanted to avoid it, didn't make it less so. She was good at that, telling the harsh and brutal truth when people couldn’t fathom facing it themselves.

“What would you do if your family had done the same to you?” My words were barely above a whisper and I couldn’t meet her gaze. In fear that I might see things that I wouldn’t like.

Coward.

She sighed, “My family is complicated and less than functional Y/N, but through it all we still love each other for always and forever. And we would never throw each other to an almost certain death–if that would even be possible–.”

The vampire kept silent before getting up and walking towards the kitchen. I couldn't see her but I heard cabinets opening and closing.

“Your alcohol reserves are surprisingly low.”

Yes, Alaric Saltzman didn't leave much.

I finally turned around to see Rebekah with a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon and two wine glasses.

“So, this is your plan, then? Drinking…wine?”

“Certainly not.” Rebekah sounded like she took offense. “We have much better vintages at our reserve.”

I had never enjoyed wine much. In fact, I hated the taste, but still I took a sip, letting the taste of berries settle on my tongue. Rebekah on the other hand, rolled her eyes after her first sip.

“If my family had done something like this to me, they…wouldn’t be my family anymore. Families protect and take care of each other when you cannot do it yourself.”

I took another sip of the wine mostly because I couldn’t find any words to form a coherent response.

“I’m not saying you should disown your family; I’m just saying that ‘forgiving and forgetting’ wouldn't do you much good either.” Rebekah took another sip, and licked her lips clean, her eyes staring into the abyss.

“I don’t think I can forget.” That ship had long since sailed.

“From what I know of you Y/N, you are meant to do more than just following orders.”

I've never thought of myself as a follow the leader type, but during the past year or two, that was exactly what I've become.

Drinking with Rebekah wasn’t something that had been on my to-do list, nor was our heart to heart. Alas, anything other than crying in bed was better, anything other than dwelling in pain.

“I’m not so sure about that.” Not anymore, at least. I said words barely above a whisper.

“I’ve lived for a thousand years Y/N, you're simply not like the coward. Except maybe in choosing your lovers–you’re really dumb in that regard.–”

Wine entered my windpipe and a violent cough ripped out of me. I placed the glass on the coffee table. “What are you talking about?” I asked, covering the lower half of my face.

Rebekah was surely amused.

“Oh come now, there is no reason to be so shy about your and my brothers’...relationship. Believe me, I've seen them make worse choices.”

Rebekah poured the rest of the wine into her glass, and then she froze.

“Your sister is coming.”

I didn’t have the time to say anything, only turning my head in the direction of the front door in panic. I couldn’t see her, not now.

“I really enjoyed talking to you,” The whisper next to my ear made the hairs at the back of my neck rise.

The lock turned, and I was alone.

---

( @dark-night-sky-99 @venomsvll @teenwolfbitches28 @haloangel391 @queenthorin1 @ollieandbonnie @hcqwxrtss123 @redwolfs-things @theweirdoleigh @mostly-meg @fandom-princess-forevermore @musically-ambiguous @isawritesstories @felinegrate @i-like-horror-andshitt @original-siphon @meyocoko @eddiebea @multistanhell @haroldpotterson @anastacia1705 @fictional-characters-i-love-them @beingsthings @kiaraandrea @hazgold @hallecarey1 @ethereal-imagies @pinknerpersona @ lil-writer-523 @malfoylaufeysonweasleybarnes) @queen-of-arda )

#the originals #the vampire diaries x #the vampire diaries #the vampire diaries hc #the mikaelsons x reader #the mikaelsons #klaus mikaelson hc #klaus mikealson x reader #klaus mikaelson #klaus x y/n #klaus x reader #elijah mikealson x reader #elijah x reader #elijah mikaelson #elijah x y/n #the originals x you #the originals x y/n #the originals x reader #rebekah mikaelson

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kart0 · 20 days

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Venting about me being stupid tw ed and suicide thoughts

...hey

I feel like I should start this by saying I've been actually pretty well lately ! I am drawing again, I lost weight which was something I really wanted, I think I made new friends, and I've been growing a lot on social media - I love the attention btw

So what do I have to complain now ? Dani doesn't this get tiring ? Uhhh yes but it's my blog so FUCK YOU

Anyways, it's exam season and there's a lot of things to do. And I have to mention I am illiterate I do not read nor am good at writing. I guess it has to do with my anxiety, I have a lot of thoughts. A LOT. That keep playing 24/7, so it's kinda hard to write something coherent.

So, I have this class, ceramic class, and I am terrible at it. Like. Super bad. Everything I do looks so bad it's literally disgusting to look at. Ok so we had this essay to do and I did, proudly, and I finish it on time which made me so happy. And I thought I did pretty well in fact !

Hm. Thought. We got our grade today and I got such a bad grade. Like. Not even half of the grade. And now I can't stop crying and feeling so stupid specially because ! Basically everyone in my class uses Chatgpt and gets away with it. And I swore, on my life, that I would never, NEVER, use AI to do my work. To do nothing, really. I have an ego the size of the universe, and I am extremely proud. It's my dignity on risk. What would my parents think of me ? What would I think of myself ???? I would never do that. Instead I keep writing everything on my own, with references of course. I used to think I'd rather get a low grade instead of using chat fucking gpt.

Well, now that I actually got a low grade I am really really upset, and regretful. Why did I have to be so proud and stupidly arrogant with my abilities. I know I FUCKING KNOW I can't write for shit. I keep thinking about how I should've used AI.

And I feel so shitty I skipped dinner tonight. Because I feel like I should starve and die. I do not deserve food. All I have to feel right now is fucking pain, and be miserable. Because I am failing this class. And I know, rationally speaking, this is super dumb. It's just a class and it's just one essay y'know. And I need to eat. Cuz honestly I'm pretty hungry.

But I keep thinking about what I did, and how I could've done so much better. I feel like such a fool.

Such a fucking fool.

And now my thoughts are spiraling, how I should either dropout of college (again btw) or kill myself ! Damn bro. Chill for a second.

And I have been eating less. Too less in fact. That's how I've been able to lose weight. So eating even less each time feels like a sickly accomplishment somehow. And I keep weighing myself everyday, morning and night. Sometimes 10 times a day. And all I want is for the number to get lower. It's so sick I should stop but I don't know how. And I feel so embarrassed and ashamed, I haven't told anyone about this.

I need to lose more weight, I NEED to lose more weight. Keeps on replay, and I work even harder to not eat. It's a game of being unworthy of basic human needs. I am starving myself to death. I know that.

And now I am punishing myself by not eating anything at all because of a fucking essay. Why do I keep doing this. What am I even trying to achieve with this. I keep feeling sick and nauseated and it's so bad and I keep taking pills for headaches and I just feel so... stupid

But I need to see me getting skinnier. I feel proud. And there was a time when this happened before too, when I was 18-19. I was so skinny back then and I did not eat.

And now it's happening again and I can't remember how I stopped the first time.

I don't want to feel sick all the time. I don't want to keep looking at the scale. I don't want to think I have to deserve food.

I don't want to die.

But I want this to be over. So much. And I know it's not the end of the fucking world but why, why does it feel like this all the time. Why can't I be normal, and have normal thoughts, and behave normally, and just be fucking ok for once.

I was doing so well... How did I end up like this again.

When will this ever stop ?

#me #rant #vent #uhhhhh

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ashes-and-ashes · 5 years

Note

Confession time... I live for people treating Remus like shit because of his lycanthropy, and Sirius (and the others) being really protective and losing their temper when they see it. So if you were to write that, know that it would end me, but I'd die happy 💙

Whoops. I got carried away. Hope you like this Rosie (and I hope it is angsty enough!!)

tw for alcohol, implied self harm and depression

Bar fights

Sirius stares down into his glass.

He scowls. It was called the Dragon, supposedly the “fiercest drink in all of Wizarding Britain” and he can already tell that it wouldn’t be strong enough. Firewhisky and gillywater and something that made it turn bright blue, all mixed into a glass. It steamed slightly, bubbles floating to the surface and the barkeeper smirks over at him.

“A little young to be drinking eh?” He laughs. “You sure you can finish that?”

Sirius just raises an eyebrow, downing the drink in one shot. “Not strong enough,” he mutters, rapping his knuckles on the bar.

The barkeeper blinks at him, then turns away. Sirius sighs.

He supposed it wasn’t fair. He’s a Black. Judging by the amount Walburga drank, he’d been ingesting alcohol in the womb.

Sirius scrubs his hand over his face, staring down at the bar. It’s stained, from the rings of some drink long dried, and he picks at the marks with his fingernail.

He had sworn to himself, a few years ago when he was 12 that he would never drink again. Sworn it while huddled in his room, biting back his sobs as he tried to heal the gashes in his back and the waves of pain all over his body. Walburga was bad enough sober - the cuts on Sirius’ arms and legs were proof of that. But she only ever used Crucio when she was drunk.

He snatches the glass from the barkeeper, downs it again. He had only really started drinking a month ago, to keep away the nightmares and the thoughts and the images. Sobriety was hell. Better to wash it away in the haze of drink then linger on what his life had become.

The Prank. Even thinking the words made him shudder. He had replayed that night in his head, over and over again, turning over every second until the memories were seared into his brain.

If only I hadn't read the letter. If only I was strong enough to resist the torture. If only I was faster, smarter, quicker. If only I hadn’t been so stupid.

He slumps in his chair. It was over now. Him and Remus were done. He still couldn’t help but feel that it was punishment, punishment for running away, punishment for leaving Reg with his parents.

And it was Remus’ birthday today, his 16th. Sirius’ heart aches as he imagines it. Everyone crowded around Remus, everyone singing Happy Birthday to him. He had spent ages planning the events for Remus’ birthday, the picnic and the candles and the secret spot by the lake.

He laughs bitterly. Everyone thought they’d be forever, him and Re. The Prank had torn them apart.

Good, he thinks, tightening his grip on the empty glass. He’s rid of me now. He’s free.

Sirius knew he could never be free of Remus. He loved him too much, a burning, aching pain inside of him, so much that it hurt. There would always be a part of him that loved Remus, no matter how many days passed, a part of him that could never be filled by anyone else.

How many moments did they have together? How many whispered secrets and shared kisses, how many times had they traced each other’s scars?

He’d thought they’d last forever.

Sirius hears the door bang open, the sound of laughter filling the bar. He turns on his stool, half-paying attention when he freezes.

Remus stares at him, surrounded by people. James and Lily chatting animatedly, Dorcas and Marlene with their arms around each other, Gideon next to Fabian who was holding Kingsley’s hand, Peter talking to Mary. His best friends, all of them, the ones who he’d die for and they all hated him.

Sirius curses under his breath, standing in a fluid motion. He turns, grabbing his cloak, hoping that Remus would ignore him, would look away.

He’s wrong. Halfway to the door, Remus steps in front of him. “What,” he hisses, “Are you doing here?”

Sirius drops his gaze. He’s heard that steel in Remus’ voice before, heard it used on Snape and the Slytherins, to his mother and his father and everyone else who crossed him. But he’s never had it directed at him before.

Sirius swallows, hard, trying to clear the lump in his throat. “I’m….I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were coming here - “

Around him, he can feel the life going out of the party, near-identical glares being turned in his direction. He looks down. “I’ll leave now.”

Part of him still hopes. Hopes that Remus will shake his head, ask him to stay. That he can celebrate the birthday of the boy he loved most, that he could pretend just for one night that everything was okay again.

But instead, Remus just nods. “I think you should.”

Sirius bites his lip, walking towards the door. He slips out then closes it behind him, managing to make it to the alley behind the bar.

He drops to the ground, perched on the balls of his feet, his head in his hands. The night is cool, the air crisp, and he takes a deep breath.

He can feel it, the numbness, the way he was slowly drowning in it. It was as if a sheet of plastic had been placed over the world, blurring everything together, muting out all sounds. He supposed he deserved it.

Sirius lets his head rest against the wall. His lungs burn, a blinding headache forcing its way into his head and he wishes he had a cigarette.

Sirius clenches his fists, his nails digging into his palm, carving bloody half-moons into his flesh.

He scared himself sometimes, when the numbness came down and his heart ached and all he wanted to do was bleed. Something stronger, deeper than just a blade against skin, when he wanted to fight.

There’s a flurry of movement to his left, two guys walking into the alley. They’re sketchy looking, dirty and high, and Sirius ignores them. Behind him, a window opens, and he can hear laughed pouring into the alley.

He recognizes the laughs - Kingsley’s low rumble and Lily’s high-pitched giggle, James’ snort and Peter’s squeak and Marlene howling as someone banged the table. And Remus, the huff of breath as he smiled, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he laughed. He would recognize Remus’ laugh anywhere, would recognize him even if he was blind.

The two guys on his left are mumbling, and Sirius barely makes out a few words.

“Piece of shit…”

“Just mug him then…”

“Nah don’t want to get busted….”

He ignores the words, yanking on his hair with his hands, so hard his eyes begin to water. His feet ache from crouching, his neck stiff and he winces as he he forces himself to his feet. He turns, snarling as he starts to exit the alley.

“Asshole. Won’t pay up.”

“At least he’s not a queer.”

There’s a low laugh. “Well. Or a werewolf.”

The other person snorts. “Werewolves. Filthy half breeds, ought to be put down the load of them. Always biting people and rutting around everywhere.”

“As if they’re good for anything else.”

The anger rises in Sirius, so fast he almost falls over. He turns around, clenching his fists together. “Don’t talk about werewolves like that.”

The two men pause, then look up at Sirius. The first one smiles. “What the hell you doing kid?”

The other one laughs. “Trying to be tough. Spoiling for a fight.”

“Fucktard.” The two of them snort. “Go away kid. Won’t ask again.”

Sirius doesn’t. He carefully widens his stance, one foot in front of the other. “I said. Don’t talk about werewolves like that.”

“Why?” The man winks. “Ahh. I see. Fucking one are you? Taking it straight up the ass like the fag you are, I’m sure. Probably enjoy it too.”

“Is it beastiality if he’s in human form while you fuck?” The man shrugs. “Or is it just - “

Sirius snaps.

His wand is in his hand in an instant, pointed directly at the first man. “Stupefy!” The man crashes backwards, directly into a bunch of boxes, and Sirius whirls. “Diffendo!”

Gashes appear in the floor and in the man’s skin, blood welling up from the cuts as he snarls. “Bastard. What the fuck?”

Sirius laughs, the sound slightly unhinged. His heart is pounding in his chest, his muscles tense and he loves it because finally. Finally he’s free, not thinking about Remus or Snape or the Prank, finally his head is clear. He just smiles back. “I warned you. Don’t talk about werewolves like that.”

“Fucking son of a bitch.” The man spits at Sirius’ feet. “Gay fag.”

Sirius raises an eyebrow. “Flipendo!”

The spell hurtles toward the man, who just flicks his wand. “Protego.”

Sirius steps to the side, the bolt careening past his leg. He raises his wand, fire dancing at the top. “Incendio!”

He’s not sure how long the fight lasts. The man is good, handling multiple spells with ease, managing to slice Sirius’ arm, repel his spell and revive his unconscious friend on the floor. Sirius curses, blood running down his arm, pouring into his eye from a cut on his forehead. He blinks furiously, trying to get the thick liquid out, anger burning in his chest. Without thinking, he points his wand straight at the man, right at his chest. “Cru - “

“Sirius no!”

And suddenly a hand is wrapped around his wrist, the crimson jet at the tip of his wand flying wide. He turns, yanking his arm away, about to curse the person when he stops dead.

Remus stares back at him, panting and covered in blood, the moonlight making the lines on his face glow. Sirius swears. “Shit, Re, I….” He trails off. “Re. Re, there’s blood all over you - “

“It’s yours.” Remus’ voice is steady. “I’m fine.”

“But…” With a start, Sirius remembers the men. He turns around, his wand raised, only to have Remus step in front of him. “Sirius. No.”

Sirius whirls, fury burning in his chest. “What the fuck do you mean, no?”

Remus glares back at him. “No.”

There’s a bang. Sirius whips around, in time to see the man’s fingers close over the handle of his wand. With a pop, both men disappear, vanishing to god knows where, leaving nothing behind but a trail of blood.

“This close.” Sirius’ throat is tight, like someone was slowly strangling him. He coughs, swallowing hard. “I was this close to defeating them Re, this close! I had them!”

“You were about to use Crucio on them.” Remus’ voice is cold. “You were going to use an unforgivable curse on them.”

Sirius looks down. He feels something wet on his head, on his face. Rain starts to trickle from the sky in steady streams, darkening the pavement where he stood. He meets Remus’ gaze. “Yes.”

“God Sirius.” Remus runs his hands through his hair. “How could you? You know what it was like, being tortured. How could you wish that into someone else?”

Sirius bites his lip. He can taste blood, coating his tongue and cheek, salty and metallic. “They were insulting werewolves.”

Remus stares back at him, his face draining of colour. Sirius continues. “Saying things like...like they deserved to be put down. That they were monsters. That - “

“No.” Remus’ voice is shaking. “No. Y-you.”

“Re - “

Remus shakes him off. “No. Not for me. Never for me.”

Sirius frowns. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m not worth it.” Remus is trembling, his voice cracking on the words. “I’m not worth it Sirus, I’m not worth you attaching them! I’m not worth a fucking unforgivable curse, God, Sirius, you could have been thrown in Azkaban for that!”

“I don’t - “

“Don’t you dare.” Remus glares at him. “Don’t you dare say that you don’t care about going to Azkaban, don’t you dare say it. I am nothing, Sirius, I am nothing but a half breed, and you are a Black! You are practically a Prince and I swear, you cannot throw your life away for me!”

“I’m not throwing my life away.” Sirius keeps his voice calm. “I love you Remus, I know you don’t anymore but I do. I love you so damn much - I would go to Azkaban in a heartbeat if it would make you happy - “

“We are over,” Remus spits and the sound breaks Sirius’ heart. “We’ve been done for a month! How can you - how can you risk your life for something so stupid - “

“You’re not stupid! You mean something - “

Remus shakes his head. “I mean nothing. I am nothing in this world, nothing in this story! I am a small mark on your book Sirius, and you should leave and forget about me.”

Sirius closes his eyes. It’s pouring now, plastering Remus’ hair to his head. It soaks the ground, washing away the blood, rivlets of water dripping down his back.

“How can I forget about you, Re? I still love you.”

Remus closes his eyes. “Do you think I don’t?” He laughs bitterly. “It’s been almost a month now and I still find myself longing for what we had before.” He looks up. “But you see why we can’t, right? It’s not just...just what you did. You’re a prince, Sirius, you have your whole life ahead of you. As soon as I’m 17 I have to register. I’ll be put into a Werewolf Camp. I’ll probably die alone and starving in some alleyway somewhere.”

“Bullshit.” Sirius shakes his head. “I don’t give a damn about you being a werewolf, Re, I still love you - “

Remus just shakes his head. A small, choked noise escapes his throat, maybe a sob or maybe a laugh, and Sirius’ breath hitches. “Re - ?”

Remus just presses him against the wall and kisses him.

The rain pounds against the sidewalk, filling the air with the scent of rain, and Sirius leans back. Hungry, open mouths and roaming hands and God he’s wanted this for so long, wanted to feel Remus against him again, their lips pressed together, the steady rise and fall of the scars on their skin. He feels Remus’ fingers on his back, moving unfalteringly over the gashes, and Sirius closes his eyes.

Slowly, carefully, Remus pulls away. He steps back, his arms falling to his side, his hair sticking up in spikes. It’s hard to tell from all the rain, but Sirius thinks he sees tears in his eyes. “God. I’ve wanted…”

“Me too.” Sirius swallows. “Re - “

“No.” Remus takes another step back. “We can’t - we can’t do this - “

“Yes we can!” Sirius shakes his head. “I don’t care, Remus, I don’t give a damn that you’re a werewolf or that you’re not high-born or that you’re poor!”

“How could you fall in love - “

“I fell in love with Remus Lupin.” Sirius closes his eyes. “The kind, brave, beautiful boy who comforted me on my first night away from home. The boy who helped me with my projects and let me copy his homework. The one who taught me stitching spells when my mother started cutting me, the one who came when I woke up screaming from nightmares. I fell in love with the boy who kissed me for the first time just before a transformation, who always gave second chances. I fell in love with you, Re. Fuck the werewolf.”

“You - “ Remus’ voice cracks. “You deserve the world, Sirius. I...I don’t know if I can give that to you.”

Sirius just reaches forward. He presses his palm against Remus’ cheek, the fluttering in his heart growing as Remus leans into the touch. “You are my world, Re. I don’t need anything else.”

Remus bites his lip. “Sirius - “

“I love you.” He laughs. “God. I love you so much.”

Remus swallows, hard. He nods, pulls Sirius up closer against him. “I love you too.”

509 notes · View notes

panda-noosh · 7 years

Note

What about a scenario with Matt falling for a pretty alien? (He is a mega nerd. I'd love to see what you think his reaction would be. Not many people request this guy).

SO I GOT REALLYCARRIED AWAY WITH THIS AND I'M PROBABLY GONNA DO A PART TWO IF YOUGUYS LIKE IT. Enjoy!

Matt's eyes peeledthemselves open whenever he heard the sound of the drill in thedistance.

At least, he hopedit was in the distance. The ringing in his head, mixed with the dullache in his ears made it difficult to pin point just how close thedangerous noise was. The ache in his head and the fact that he hadpassed out only moments before made it difficult for him to pin pointjust exactly where he was.

Thepanic didn't settle in until his vision had cleared, the bubbles anddots of consciousness taking their time in melting away, but they dideventually, to reveal a large, white room. Matt was unfamiliar withit – he was almost positive he had never been here before. Notduring his Garrison training. Not during his run-away from the Galra.Not even during his time on a Galra cruiser.

Sowhere was he?

Slowly,Matt sat up. Despite the panic in his chest, he made an obviouscommitment to not making a scene. Remaining calm was the key in allof these situations – it gave him a chance to think, despite hisbrain running at one thousand miles per hour. If there was one thingHolt's were good at it, it was thinking rationally under pressuringcircumstances.

Hedidn't see anybody in the room – in fact, he saw little ofanything. The lights above him were blinding, but not blinding enoughthat he couldn't see just how little there actually was in thestrange room. A single bed (one he was sitting on), and a door on thefar corner. The door was creaked open just a bit, letting in rays ofyellow light which fought against the white ones this room held.

“Hello?”he found himself calling out before he could tell himself otherwise.Perhaps if he was friendly with these people, they wouldn't hurt him.Whoever these people were.

Itis silent for a number of seconds following his exclamation. He waitsnervously, fingers digging into the plush material of the pillows hehad been propped against, and for a moment, he is positive he isn'tgoing to get a reply. The waiting becomes too long for anybody tohave heard him -

Histhoughts die whenever the soft pitter-patter of feet echo through thebrightly lit room, and suddenly the door on the far side of the roomis opening, revealing you.

You.

Mattnearly chokes on air when his eyes meet yours, a bubble of fearbrewing in his chest mixed in with something he can't recognise atthis moment. Maybe it's the lights shining down on him, or theheadache which is plaguing him, or your curves, orthe way you look so panicked in this moment-

“Hi!”Matt cheers, suddenly. It seems like his mouth is working on it's owntoday. “I'm Matthew Holt. You're – uh – test subject, it seemslike.”

Youlook at him, bright white eyes dazzling against his brown ones. It'sclear you aren't human, though aliens were more common thanearthlings nowadays. Your skin held a bright purple glow to it, awhite suit covering your skin and exaggerating your curves in a waythat had Matt shifting uncomfortably in an attempt to keep his eyesaway from you. Your eyes were large on your head, the only colourheld to them being white – everything was white.

“Testsubject is the wrong word,” you tell him. Your voice startles him –it sounds normal. Like any normal earthling would sound. He was soused to aliens having a buzz to their voice, or their voices beingunnaturally deep or unnaturally high. If he were to speak to youwithout seeing your face, he would be certain you were just anothernormal mortal.

“Whatwould you call me then?” Matt asks.

Youmess with the confines of his hands, working to pull them away fromhis wrists now that he was awake. “A pain in the ass.” Mattfrowns. “My boss has had me running around for hours making sureyou don't die in your sleep. How did you even manage to get hit inthe back of the head anyway? Comet's aren't difficult to dodge.”

Mattblanks. That's what happened.

Youroll your eyes at his silence, finally pushing the final constraintsoff of him. You turn on your heel, point to the door before walkingoff, beckoning for him to follow.

Youlead him through the ship quickly, not stopping to give him a chanceto look at the many strange artefacts lining the walls. The entiretime, Matt wonders why he is following you, why he isn't asking morequestions about his whereabouts and what happened after the cometstruck him. You don't make an attempt to show him the answers, either– instead marching on ahead without a second glance in hisdirection.

Yourauthority makes him wonder. If you were this in control, what wasyour boss like? Were you going to ask him to do something before youlet him go? What would you even want off of him?

Thequestions plague his brain, but none of them leave his lips until thetwo of you enter the cafeteria, which is bustling with youngerlooking aliens of the same species as you. All of them seem under theage of 14, little kids running around with bowls of green goo intheir hand, giggling at nothing whilst only stopping briefly to get alook at the human who had just walked into the room.

“Wehave mortal options if that's what you like,” you explain to him,leading Matt up to the counter. “Vegetarian options, as well. Welike to cater to the masses.”

“Mm,”Matt hums, looking over the array of untouched mortal food whichlines the counter. Pizza, burgers, sandwiches, salad, pastas.Everything Matt once remembered and hadn't touched since he leftearth. It made his mouth water. “Who cooks all this stuff?”

“Marlio,”you reply, nodding to the oversized chef woman in the back. She turnsat the sound of her name, grunts and turns back to the chip pan. Youfrown. “She doesn't talk much, but she makes good food so we lether off with it. Come on, pick something and then I'll get totalking. I'm sure you have a lot of questions.”

“Mybrain hurts too much for questions.”

Younod, folding your arms over your chest. “Well, with that attitudeit isn't gonna get much better.” Matt looks down at you, raising asingle brow. He still can't wrap his head around you. Justhow human you seem.How nice you seem. Youdon't even seem hostile or careful around him. It's like you'vealready gained a sense of trust around him.

Youturn back to the counter and press your finger into the glass.“Whenever you decide what to eat, I'll be down at the very lasttable. Come meet me there and then we can discuss.”

Mattspins around, ready to catch you before you can walk off. “Wait,how do I pay-” He stops short upon seeing that you had already gone– faded into thin air.

Right, hethinks. Alien.

Inthe end, Matt decided on pizza and chips – a simple, safecombination. The pepperoni dripped with grease as he walked towardsthe table you had mentioned, his eyes already burning into your face,watching you work as you waited on him. You had no food with you, andyou were sat on your own, your head ducked down into a large, leatherbound book. Matt couldn't imagine that would be your 'waiting novel,'so he simply assumed it was work related.

Hesits down in front of you cautiously, half-tempted to ask if thisseat is taken, just like theyalways did in the films. Whenever you looked up and nodded at theseat, beckoning for him to sit down, he decided against it.

“So,”you begin, folding your arms in front of you. “The ball is in yourcourt, my friend. Ask away.”

Mattraises a brow. “Anything?”

“Wehave nothing to hide.”

Heinhales deeply, suddenly unsure of where to start. He takes athoughtful bite of his pizza, flicking his eyes around the cafeteria– may as well start where he is. “What is this place?”

“Thisis Nargotu,” you reply. “Planet Nargotu. One of the threetechnologically advanced planets of the Milky Way.”

“I'veheard of you guys. Smart.”

Youshrug, but don't deny the facts. “Generations before us worked hardfor what we have now.”

Mattnods, this comment bringing him onto his next question. “Exactly.So why do you trust so easily?”

“Trust?Easily?”

“Mm.”Matt takes another bite of his pizza, throwing a chip in his mouthfor good measure. “You seem awfully comfortable around me. Me.An outsider. Why is that?”

Youchew on the inside of your cheek, your eyes never leaving Matt's.“Being paranoid about who is going to hurt you isn't a good way tolive, Matthew Holt. We teach our kind that from a very early age.”

“But surely teaching them to be wary is a good thing.”

“We teach them to be wary as well, yes,” you say. “But we wouldnever condone closing yourself off just because somebody is from aplace you are unfamiliar with. We tell them to do their research,teach them about a persons body language, how their tone and the waythey carry themselves can tell you about who they are before you'veeven said two words to them. But we do not think you're bad justbecause you're a mortal.”

Youpause, trailing your eyes up Matt's torso for a moment.

“Andfrom the way we found you, you aren't very intelligent, either. Youwould be no threat to us if you ended up being a dickhead.”

Usually, comments like that made Matt angry. He knew himself he wasintelligent, so being called dumb was always a pet peeve of his. Hehadn't studied for half of his life to be called dumb.

Butwhenever the words fall from that soft smile of yours, he findshimself smiling back, chuckling past the crumbs of pizza and chips hewas battling in his mouth.

“Well,I think that is a great message to spread,” he finally says after amoment of giggling. “Where are all the adults, then? All I see arechildren.”

“Becauseit's the junior's lunch time,” you explain. “The adults are alloff making softwares, fixing up old programming systems, doing theirjobs.”

“Andyou're sitting here with me. Seems naughty.”

Youraise a brow. “You are myjob. As I said before, I've had to keep you from dying for the pastfew hours – which, by the way, isn't an easy job whenever youinsist on yelling out 'Pidge!' every two seconds. Nearly scared me todeath.”

“Don'ttalk about death after I've just almost died.”

Youshrug. “Sorry. I was being insensitive. You nearly scared me halfto annihilation.”

“Better.I feel much more comforted now.”

Theday ended all too quick, and Matt wasn't sure why.

Heshould have been excited to finally leave this place, get back tolooking for his family and doing something withhimself. He had worked hard for his place at the Garrison – hismain goal should have been trying to get back there as soon aspossible, so all hope for his future isn't lost.

Buthe can't bring himself to feel anything other than sadness as youlead him to the exit hub. He had purposefully walked slowly down thelong hallways during the walk here, wanting to talk to you for justthat little bit longer.

Youtwo just got on well. He wasn't sure why, or how that was evenpossible, but you did. You were easy to talk to, a person he couldjoke around with whilst also have intelligent conversation. Maybe itwas his lack of interaction with any species overthe past couple of months that made you so appealing to him, buteither way, he didn't want to leave.

Youtwo arrive at the exit hub's soon enough, Matt's ship coming intosight. He was positive it had been damaged during the impact whichhad knocked him out, but now it was perfectly fine, only a few aliensfloating around it to confirm his suspicions – they had fixed hisship for him.

Ablush dazzled his cheeks when you two finally come to a halt. Heknows he should just say goodbye and get on with it, but he staysrooted to the spot for some time, looking at the bit of space betweenthe two of you like it was the length of the galaxy.

“Thankyou,” he says. You look up, startled by his acknowledgement of yourhard work. “For everything, I mean. Waking me up, taking care ofme, fixing my ship. It means an awful lot.”

Yousmile warily. “It's no problem. Thank you for – uh – not beingas big a pain as I thought you would be.”

Henods, flicking hair out of his face. “It was my pleasure, Isuppose.” Silence. Not an awkward one, but a silence nonetheless.

Mattlooks out at the ship waiting on him, and the realisation that hesoon has to leave weighs down on him like bricks pulling him into thedepths of the ocean – alone again, darkness swarming him. That iswhat will happen when he leaves – he'll just be another lost vesselamongst the stars all over again.

Heexhales and turns back to you. “We should speak again soon, maybe?”His words come out as more of a question than a suggestion. “Youcould give me your contact code.”

Younarrow your eyes. “Y-You want to keep in contact with me – uh –I mean, us?”

Mattnods gently. “Of course. You saved my life. Unless, of course, youdon't wanna keep in contact with-”

“7089,”you interrupt, snatching a pen from your breast pocket. Matt isstartled to feel your cold hands wrapping around his own, pulling ittowards you as you write them four numbers on the back of his hand.“Contact me tonight. I get bored at night.”

Mattblushes a deep red colour, a soft chuckle escaping his throat as heinspects the digits you had just scribbled on his hand. “I will,yeah. I'll let you know if I got home safe.”

“Andwhere is it that you call home, Matthew Holt?”

“Alot of places. We'll see where it is tonight.”

Younod. “I'll be expecting the call.”

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