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regulus-blacks-lover · 1 year

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“i've gotta get home and sleep with your brother”

(you know the tiktok sound ok)

Pairing these two prompts together because I was feeling inspired.

#85: “i’m going to fuck you so hard you’re going to forget that guys name” --and-- #90: “don’t fucking touch what is not yours”

2,036 words!!

Summary: With Regulus busy and ignoring you, what choice do you have but go to the person who annoys him most for assistance? Smut!! Includes Sirius as a relentless flirt, references to partying and drinking, and angry sex w/ overprotective, mean!dom!regulus. (I don't condone being toxic! It's just fun to write lol)

I put gifs in the body of the story, not sure if that reads well, but I had 4 gifs I wanted to use lol. Do the pics show up side by side in pairs of 2, or are they stacked? I want them to be side by side and can't tell how it'll look.

My prompts are tagged #prompt list - the currently active list is whatever is most recent, please send requests!

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You'd been sitting next to Regulus in the library for hours, barely speaking. "Reggie..." You said in a hushed tone. He hardly looked up from his book You ignored this, and continued, "There's an all-house quidditch party out on the quidditch grounds after curfew tonight. Can we go?"

"Evan and Barty have been hounding me about it all week." He said flatly, not answering the question.

You raised your eyebrows at him, but he didn't notice. He'd gone back to his book. "Reg, please? You've been studying all day and we've barely done anything fun this week."

It was true. He'd barely even touched you for days, and the ache between your legs was beginning to be unbearable.

Regulus didn't look convinced. "Reg, please," you tried again, "it would be good for team morale."

He snorted. "Since when do you care about the quidditch team?"

You rolled your eyes. "Since right now, when I decided that it would help me get you to come to this party."

Regulus sighed. "How 'bout you meet me back here after dinner? I'll meet you outside, okay?"

You nodded and made a quick exit before he could change his mind.

• ◦ • ⁃ • ◦ • • ◦ • ⁃ • ◦ • • ◦ • ⁃ • ◦ •

After dinner, you changed quickly and snuck back out of the common room, finding Regulus waiting for you outside the library, as promised. His gaze flicked down your body; you were wearing a crop top with a deep neckline and a short skirt you couldn't have bent over in without exposing yourself.

As soon as you got to the party, you were enveloped by a cheery throng of your friends. Regulus muttered something about going to get a drink as you were swept into conversation.

When the excitement of your arrival to the party died down and people began to be immersed in their own conversations, you snuck off to get a drink, and look for Regulus. You spotted him standing alone at the edge of the party, looking ready to leave. You weren't going to deal with that, especially not without having something to drink first.

You spotted Sirius Black and his usual group of friends huddled together, laughing. You locked eyes with him, and to your surprise he grabbed an extra drink from a table nearby and began to saunter over.

"Poor, poor little Y/N." he said with mock-pity. "I see my idiot brother is paying you no attention at all," he said as he handed you the drink. "A big mistake, I must say. You look absolutely ravishing tonight."

As you took a sip, you couldn't help the flush that spread across your face. Turning back to Sirius, you said, "Wanna help me get his attention?"

A devious smile spread across his face as he looked you up and down. "So naughty, Y/N. Didn't know you had it in you. What'd you have in mind?"

You felt a surge of guilt, but one glance at Regulus still stony faced in the corner convinced you of your decision. "Can you just- just flirt with me for a minute? I'm sure that'll make him angry enough." You said quickly, before you could change your mind.

Sirius didn't answer, but let his eyes wander down the length of your body, taking you in with his usual lazy confidence. "I think we can do better than just flirting, don't you?" He asked, stepping closer to you.

You let him reach towards your face and loop a strand of your hair around his finger. Your heart gave a small flutter and you leaned into his touch.

His other hand came to rest on your waist. Everything about Sirius was warm. He began to rub circles into your skin, his thumb trailing up underneath the hem of your shirt, just grazing the underside of your bra.

A small sigh of pleasure escaped you. "You're so beautiful, Y/N," Sirius said, leaning into you. "So beautiful. I bet I could get you to make all sorts of pretty little noises, if you let me."

His breath smelled of hot cider as he kissed your cheek. "But now my brother seems to have noticed our little show." he added, pulling away, but even then, he did not remove his hand from your waist.

Before you could say anything, Sirius was being shoved back, and a familiar hand grasped at your shoulder. "Get your filthy fucking hands off her," Regulus spat at his brother. "Don't fucking touch what isn't yours."

But Sirius was looking past Regulus and grinning at you. "When you get bored of my little brother, Y/N, come and see me." He said, and with that he turned back to the party and walked away.

Regulus rounded on you. "What the fuck were you thinking, flirting with my brother like that?" He asked, his expression dangerous.

You were past the point of caring however, and you merely said, "I guess I was just tired of waiting for you to notice me, and Sirius was there, ready to play."

Regulus let out a humorless laugh. "That's what you want? You want me to notice you?" He gripped your arm tightly, taking a step closer to you. "You want me to play with you?" He asked, voice deadly.

"I suppose you have time for me now," you spat.

You saw the muscles in Regulus's jaw clench, and knew you were going to get exactly what you'd bargained for.

"Come with me, right now," he hissed, his grasp on your arm tightening as he began to walk back to the castle, dragging you along with him. You walked in silence, knowing Regulus was plotting everything he'd do to you once you'd reached the school.

You hurried to keep up with his fast pace as the two of you snuck cautiously back into the castle and he pulled you to the door of the Slytherin common room.

It was completely empty, with everyone still down at the party. Regulus ushered you up a small flight of steps into his dormitory. He locked the door and you watched as he put up silencing spells around the entryway.

Then he turned, walking slowly over to where you stood by his bed. His eyes were dark with anger as his eyes trailed down your body, taking you in for the first time that night. He placed a hand on the back of your neck, running it upwards until he had a fistful of hair, which he tugged sharply, forcing you to look up at him.

"Did you wear your sluttiest little outfit all for me, hmm?" He asked teasingly. "Did you put this on just so I'd fuck you tonight?"

Already, you could feel wetness pooling between your legs. "Yes," you managed to gasp.

He leaned in closer, biting at your neck without warning. "I know you did." He whispered. "And now, you're going to get on your knees and show me just how much you want to be fucked."

You nodded, getting to your knees without another word. Regulus watched you, unbuttoning his shirt as you situated yourself at his knees. You reached up and palmed the bulge in his pants the way you knew he liked. But he wasn't in the mood for that tonight. He pushed your hand away and undid his zipper.

"Open your mouth." He said cooly.

You obeyed, wrapping your lips around his length. Regulus let his head fall back as you took him deeper.

A second later, his hand found the back of your head, using your hair as leverage while he fucked your mouth harshly. You let out a small choking sound and he merely grinned wickedly down at you. "What's the matter, can't my little slut take it?" He asked, pushing your head even further onto his cock so you could feel him at the back of your throat.

He held you there for a moment, watching as you struggled for breath. Finally he let you go, and you fell back, gasping and sputtering for air.

"Pathetic." Regulus said. "Get up."

Your legs shook as you stood. Regulus wiped the tears from your cheeks. You knew by now that your face must be smeared with mascara. Meeting his gaze, you saw a flicker of concern on his face. You nodded, reassuring him, and just like that the concern was gone.

"Take your panties off, then get on the bed." He commanded, and you did as you were told, watching him tuck your soaked underwear into the drawer of his bedside stand as you clambered onto his bed.

"Not like that," Regulus said quickly. "Get on your hands and knees."

Your face burned as you flipped over, lowering yourself onto your forearms and arching your back. You could feel the bed dip as Regulus knelt behind you. He flipped your skirt up, exposing your ass.

"Spread your legs a bit more." He said in that same cold voice he'd been using all evening, the voice that warned you not to disobey him.

Once you were properly on display for him, you felt his hand between your legs, grazing you with the lightest of touches, just enough to spread your wetness around.

"You're positively soaked for me, little slut." He said. Unthinkingly, you rocked your hips against his hand, searching for more friction.

This earned you a harsh slap on the ass from Regulus. You cried out, but he merely said, "Not tonight. Tonight you don't get to cum on my fingers. Sluts only get to come when they're being fucked."

Your frustration had reached a peak. "Fuck me then," you said desperately.

Regulus smacked your ass again. "Ask me nicely." He said.

"Please," you managed in a strangled voice, "Please fuck me."

He slid into you without warning and you whimpered at the sudden intrusion. You heard Regulus curse under his breath, his hands moving to grip your sides. He began thrusting in and out of you at a merciless pace. "Gonna fuck you so hard you forget that bastard's name. Gonna fuck you so hard all you can think about is my cock." He said.

"This is what you fucking wanted, isn't it?" He continued, his fingers digging harshly into your hips, hard enough to bruise. "Wanted me to fuck you like a filthy little whore?"

You opened your mouth to respond, but all that came out was a moan.

Regulus moved one hand between your legs, rubbing at your clit with an unbearable amount of pressure. Your legs began to shake, and Regulus said, "Answer me."

"Yes!" You managed to get out, panting. "Yes! Wanted you so badly."

"That's right," Regulus crooned, his movements never ceasing. "You're mine. You're only mine. No one else is gonna make you feel like this, huh?"

"Just you." You said breathlessly.

"That's right," Regulus said again.

"Reg, 'm gonna cum," You said, and his movements against your clit sped up.

You could tell he was getting close by the way his rhythm was starting to falter slightly. You pushed your hips back to meet him with every thrust.

"Fuck, angel, yes. You're so good, so good for me, just like that." He said, urging you to keep moving. Soon his thrusts grew sloppy and he grabbed you by the hips again, burying himself inside you completely as he came.

As you both came down from your highs, he rolled you over onto your back and looked down at you. "My girl." He said possessively. "So so beautiful. Wasn't too rough, was I? You're okay?" He looked suddenly unsure.

You shook your head. "No Reg." You pulled him down into a kiss, relishing his scent.

His hands were on either side of your face as he pulled away to look at you again. "Don't flirt with my brother, ever again." He said.

"Don't ignore me ever again." You shot back with a grin.

"I mean it, Y/N." He said.

You beamed up at him. "But it had such a fun result." You said cheekily.

"Next time, the results won't be fun." He grumbled, but leaned back down to kiss you again.

▢

#reg fic mine #my writing #sirius fic mine #regulus black x reader #regulus black x you #regulus black x y/n #regulus black #marauders x reader #marauders fics #marauders era #sirius black #smut #dom!regulus

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billthedrake · 1 year

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I can’t do brother stories like @underthemattress2 but this is inspired by his writing.

A HOMECOMING THANKSGIVING

I pulled Austin into a hug but his grip was even stronger as he pulled it in. "Fuck, Chase," he growled right into my ear, almost a raspy whisper. "So good to see you, bro." A million thoughts were going through my head but among them was the realization that Austin had packed on some muscle over the last year... and he had a cologne that smelled nice.

"You too, bro," I muttered as I pulled back and got a good look at my twin brother. The whole plane ride, I had rehearsed in my head how I'd get along with him over my holiday leave. I had a week in the States and didn't want it messed with by the lingering tension I had with the dick head.

Only he wasn't in dick head mode now but was kind of normal. Freakishly normal. Regular hair cut, preppy clothes, kind of a clean-cut ex-frat look. "You cut your hair," I muttered, my first thought coming right out.

Austin stepped back, grinning big and wiping his hand suavely through the medium-short profesional hair cut he had now. "I started my finance job, Chase," he said. "Gotta impress those fuckers," he joked. Then his face turned a little more serious. "Or maybe I should be calling you First Lieutenant Farrell now. Congratulations on the promotion. Mom and Dad spilled the beans."

I gently punched him on the upper arm. Solid, of course. I'd have to ask Austin about his fitness kick. "It's just Chase," I smiled. "But thanks."

Austin nodded, and the eye contact was heavy. Just like when we were teens, before we grew apart. Then he snapped out of it and leaned up to pick up my oversized duffle from where the Uber had dropped me off. "Let me get this. It's too fucking cold to stand out here."

***

I don't know how often twins were like us, but Austin and I were opposites in so many ways. Like polar, butt-heads opposites. He'd rebelled, big time, against our parents, against the expectations of being a twin, against everything. Joined a punk band, did drugs that were harder than I was comfortable with, challenged me not to tell. The more he acted out, the more I was the Good Kid. Played sports, got along well with teachers as well as fellow jocks. I wasn't naturally a great student, but I worked hard at school and once time for college came I lined up a good ROTC scholarship for the Marines. Austin gave me such guff for going the military route, and part of me worried I did it as a fuck-you to him.

That seemed in the past now, that first night when Austin and I hit the local bars that became an unofficial high school reunion the night before Thanksgiving. We each made the rounds, since we hung out with different people back then. But two hours into the night, we found ourselves talking among ourselves. Austin was asking me a million questions about the marines, and after a while he was filling me in on his new girlfriend.

"You and Jill serious?" I asked. Since things had been frosty between me and Austin, we didn't really catch up beyond the holidays and the news we'd hear from our parents.

He shrugged and flashed me a grin. "We'll see, bro. I mean, she's great, but I'm just 25. I'm not in a rush for anything."

"That's cool," I said. "Still, I'd love to meet her sometime."

"I tried to get her to come but family's huge for her, so she wasn't missing Thanksgiving upstate." He took a sip of his beer. We'd agreed to uber it so were letting loose. "So, Chase... you more into dudes or chicks these days?"

He shot me a knowing look. I mean we had our history, Austin and I, back before we had our falling out, and even a couple bouts of hate sex after. Including a heated session the night before I shipped off for basic.

I grinned. I almost hesitated to tell him, like this was some sort of trap. "Haven’t been with a girl since 17," I admitted.

"Might be harder to find a Republican gay dude to date," he smirked.

"I'm not a Republican, fucker," I growled, laughing at the way he was able to get under my skin. "Just want someone traditional, you know?"

Austin shrugged. "Just hope you have some fun before you line up that Times Wedding page material."

"I do OK," I lied. For all my boasting, the fun I'd had in college seemed to have dried up when I was full time military. It was like guys loved the idea of a rugged Marine but didn't seem to click with what I wanted. Or maybe I was just too fucking picky.

But I didn't want my brother to see my vulnerability. I looked at Austin and added, "Look who's talking...." I nudged his elbow, like he was one of my Marine buddies. "I can't get over how cleaned up you are these days, bro. And when did you get so big?"

"You like the big boys?" he laughed. His eyes lingered on mine, connecting more silently. Fuck. We may be polar opposites, but we were twins and had that telepathy thing going on.

"I do," I replied. My eyes took him in. He was my height, of course, 5'11" and with his new hair cut and fresh shave he looked really fucking attractive. Of course, I was looking at a version of me, but somehow the narcissism fed the taboo of it.

"I'm not Marine big," Austin chimed in. "But I have a buddy who got me into Stronglifts. It's been pretty quick progress."

I had to surpress the lewd thing I wanted to say just then. I came up with the more restrained version. "Well, you're looking amazing Austin, for real."

He leaned in more. I could smell that cologne again. "You wanna go fuck around somewhere, Chase? For old times sake?"

It was like I was 18 all over again, only instead of a grudge fuck, it was... something else. I thought of a million reasons I shouldn't go down this road, but only one word came out of my mouth. "Yeah."

His lips curled into a smile which made him even more attractive.

The Uber ride home our fingers connected and interlaced, and I felt my heart pound. This was naughty as hell, and most of all I was bowled by how seductive Austin seemed these days. My twin brother had learned some major game in college.

We tried to be quiet as we made out way through our parents house. Mom had turned one of our rooms into a work-from-home office, so me and Austin were shacking up in my old bedroom. Most of my stuff was put away in storage, but there was mix of my sports trophies and Austin's punk posters, and instead of my old double bed there was now a queen big enough for two.

I had that careful instinct as I silently closed the door, like I had learned in the times I'd had sex back in the day. I just as quietly latched the lock.

Austin was already stripping down, removing his sweater and winter clothing and lazily tossing it onto the floor. I was about to tease him for being a slob but I stopped myself when I saw how jacked and toned his upper body was.

"Jesus, Austin," I whispered. "You're fucking hot."

He winked. "Show me that stud marine body bro... looks like you got five to ten pounds of muscle on me."

His eyes were on me just as appreciatively as I stripped while he got onto the bed and peeled off his jeans and briefs. We were really fucking doing this. Like out of control teenagers.

"How often you make it with a guy?" I had to ask. I almost asked where his girlfriend fit in the picture, but that was Austin's deal, he could figure it out.

"Every couple of months," he answered without hesitation. "It's too easy to get laid in New York," he explained.

I almost lectured him, like I did when I was younger. But I realized the idea of my brother having sex with other guys was hot. Austin was the kind of man not to put a label on his sexuality, but the lusty part of me was glad the dude-oriented side of his sexuality was getting regularly indulged.

As I removed my underwear finally, Austin saw my bone, rock hard and jutting out from his abs.

"You trim your bush," he observed.

"Yeah," I explained as I got onto the bed. "I dated a guy into it that way... guess I liked the look and feel of it."

"The feel?" Austin asked as he scooted up to me, running his hands along my lightly hairy torso. I wasn't the only one who'd packed on muscle.

"You know..." I blushed as I explained, "when I guy licks me there." I wasn't even sure I felt shy given me and Austin's history. But I did.

"Goddamn, bro," Austin chuckled. "I used to find your goody two shoes act annoying, but now..." he looked me right in the eye as his hand continued to explore my body. Mine reached out to touch his too. "It's frickin' turning me on."

Austin leaned in, and I turned my head slightly to the side, and our lips touched. This was our first kiss in... how long? Even our grudge fucks didn't have this. But that brother lip lock was pure heaven. I was even the one who took the initiative and snaked my tongue forward, between Austin's parted lips. And like that I was French kissing my twin.

He grunted into my mouth, and practically sucked my tongue in, before we battled them softly. Austin's hands now openly groping my muscle, pulling me tighter to him.

I rolled on top of him. I half expected him to object, like he'd do when we were 18 and in this very room, vying for top position. We'd both fucked and gotten fucked - along with every other bit of sexual exploration - but Austin made it seem like I was asking a huge favor every time I topped him.

Not now. "Fuck me, Chase," he whispered hoarsely. Softly even. I guess the old habits of sneaking this behind our parents' back hadn't died for him either.

"Yeah?" I asked just as quietly, confirming but really hoping he wouldn't change his mind.

"Never been pounded off by a Marine," he grinned with a wink, looking up all over my muscled torso and openly running his hands up and down my knotted triceps.

Austin nodded. "I got a thing of lube in my bag, if you didn't pack any."

I slid off him and off the bed. My dick was rigid as ever as I strutted over to my duffel. "Didn't think I'd be using the stuff for THIS," I whispered as I pulled out my TSA-sized container of slick.

"You got a favorite position, Chase?" Austin asked excitedly as he watched me slick up my rod just before getting back on the bed. This was a 180 from those "at least let me sit on it" whines from back in the day.

"I like mounting a guy flat on his stomach," I answered, getting horny just by saying that out loud. "But we don't gotta do it that way, Austin."

He just grinned and said, "Happy Homecoming, bro," and flipped onto his belly, hiking his meaty ass up. If we had time for the rest of that holiday weekend - and I hoped to hell we did - I wanted to explore that muscle gym-bro ass of his. Bad. But I knew this physical connection was overdue and the moment was about the spontaneity of fucking. I crawled on and started kissing along his neck and behind his ear. That made my brother hump excitedly into me.

"You always get this horny when you drink?" I teased him. We were both tipsy from the bar, I knew.

His reply was already getting that bedroom voice. "I do, actually. Fuck me, Chase. Put that Marine dick in me."

I reached down and lined up my prick to tease his hole. No matter how worked up Austin appeared or acted, I wasn't gonna shove it right in him. But I sure as hell nudged that pucker, remembering those more heated fucks in this room, or his. I leaned up and gave the back of head a kiss, remarking on how much shorter his hair was though not buzzed like mine. I plopped off to his side and reached for the lube.

Austin looked up at me in a dreamy smile as I reached down and started fingering him. Gently, one finger, then two. Slowly.

"You're good at this," he said. "You've gotten better."

"I love you, Austin," I said softly, right before a third finger pressed into his hole.

He took in a soft inhale of breath. But I knew after a second it wasn't too much. He nodded and I slid those digits more deeply into him. "I guess I was a shithead to you growing up."

My cock throbbed. I'd expected him to wisecrack at my admission. Like he had when I was 15. Instead I got deep honesty.

"We were both shitheads to each other," I said. "It took me a while to realize I was part of our dynamic. You know, passive aggressive and all."

"Oh I know, Chase," Austin laughed. Even as he was putting me in my place, I found that laugh so sexy. "But I love you too, man," he said, not dropping the smile. He was confident in a way I wish I was. "You know that, right, brother?"

I kissed him. Hard. More tongue, and this time it was like we were trying to suck the breath from one another. Bring the life of each other into our bodies.

I couldn't take any more. Once Austin humped against my hand and moaned into my mouth, I extracted my fingers and crawled back on top of him. The penetration was intense. It had been so long and feeling the Austin's body craved me made me rock hard and excited.

Once I was buried in my brother, I paused and kicked along his neck again. His bucking ass was the signal to go for it. I started fucking him. Steady deep pumps in and out of Austin's hot hole.

If you're a gay guy who has a twin of course you know how everyone immediately wants to see you have sex with your brother. I'd act dutifully annoyed-offended if guys ever brought it up, but now I couldn't think of anything but how hot they'd be watching me and Austin go at it. Twin sex between two brothers who'd not had it in too long.

I'll thank the alcohol for making that fuck last. I didn't get my nut right away, and Austin seemed to be on a slow climb to orgasm, too.

We tried to be quiet and keep the bed from squeaking, so I didn't fuck fast, but I just kept that long slow pump in and out of him, covering that hot-bro ass of his tight from behind and feeding off his energy. The longer we went the sweatier we got, his toned body slick against mine, then downright wet as I fucked him.

Seeing him reach for some lube and then move his hand down to the dick pinned next to the mattress was the trigger that got me there.

"Oh fuck, brother!" I grunted, entering orgasm. Still a whisper, but probably too loud.

Austin let out a series of masculine grunts. "Umngg ummg ummmg," he cried and his bowels clenched against my cumming dick.

I fired a couple more rounds of liquid into him, then collapsed onto his body.

Finally I rolled off him. I expected him to dart off the bed to go clean off, cause in addition to the sweat and lube, I'm pretty sure I sauced his hole and crack up big time. Instead he plopped on his back, his identically matching genitals thick but half soft, as he looked at the clock. It was after midnight now.

"Happy thanksgiving, bro," he laughed.

I laughed too. The naughtiness of our fuck and the way we'd gotten carried away made us both find humor in the situation.

We kissed softly but had to take a break from the erotic stimulation. I pulled back and patted his thigh. "So, Austin, what the hell has gotten into you?"

"You mean wanting to bottom?" he asked.

I was curious about that, but that wasn't what was on my mind. "No, I mean you. Clean cut finance bro... all that shit."

He grinned and gave a soft shrug. Unlike his earlier confidence I could read vulnerability in his face now. "I dunno, Chase. I guess once I moved from this shitty town, I had less to rebel against, you know?"

I didn't know, but I just listened to my brother.

He continued. "I'm still the smart ass cynic, I think. But sometimes we just become different people when we grow up."

If it hadn't been for the alcohol, or the intensely satisfying sex I'd just had with Austin, I wouldn't have said the next thing I said. "Fuck, man, you're gonna think this is messed up.... but sometimes I think I haven't found a boyfriend cause I keep looking for you."

"Oh," my brother said. His body tensed up.

"Yeah, sorry," I apologized.

"Don't be sorry," he said sternly. "It's not fucked up, bro. It's fucking beautiful."

"Yeah?" I asked, daring to look into his eyes again now as my heart pounded.

He nodded, getting that smile of his back. "I'm not gonna be a prick tease to ya, Chase.... I don't think I could give up women. But I'd give up those New York guys."

My dick firmed up. As I looked down I watched it jerk back to erection. Austin watched too, and we both chuckled at the spectacle. "You like that idea."

"I'm getting carried away," I hissed. "But damn straight I like that idea."

Austin looked back up at my face with a grin. "You know, you've gotten really fucking good in the sack, bro."

"I could say the same about you," I said.

We kissed again. Slowly. Despite my newfound erection neither of us were up for round two. Not yet.

Finally we nudged foreheads against each other, like lovers. "You know," Austin whispered. "Maybe we can convince Mom and Dad to go do some Black Friday shopping, and we can have some alone time."

"Hell yes," I hissed, reaching down to wrap my hand around his tool, which had grown firm again. As I felt him up and relished how identical it was to my dick an idea occurred to me. "Maybe we can fuck in front of the bathroom mirror."

Austin's face broke into a lewd grin. "You fucking perv... I love that idea. We'll fucking do it."

We made out some more but finally we were getting sleepy. As I turned off the lamp and pulled up the covers, Austin spooned up behind me, wrapping his arms around me. "You know, I don't think I'm the only one who's changed, Chase," he said softly.

"Yeah," I agreed before we were silent, other than our breathing as we drifted off to sleep.

#drakestories

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mephinomaly · 5 months

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[TL] PYSCHOBREAK/Chapter 10

[ This post uses Ois~su ♪ ]

Time: One week later. The day before the “vampires'” subjugation battle, tentatively named Flashback. The day UNDEAD first met

Location: In Hasumi Keito’s family temple's graveyard

Rei: Bein’ a ghost must be fun ♪ Bein’ a ghost must be great ♪

Don’t have to work , don’t have to study, you can just have a concert from noon 'til midnight~♪

Adonis: What’s wrong, Sakuma-senpai? Have you been drinking?

Rei: I’m not old enough to drink. But if I was, it would probably be a lot of fun~♪

Adonis: I don’t understand why, but you are in strangely high spirits…. Recently you have had a gloomy aura about you, so I am glad to see you feeling better.

Rei: Fuwah. That’s amazin’, you really noticed I was depressed?

No matter how much you say you like ‘n respect them, humans will never bother to understand or even look at other people.

Adonis: I only noticed due to the fact that I have known you the longest, Sakuma-senpai, therefore I noticed your change in behaviour early on.

Rei: So much for humility. Even my little brother, who I’ve been with since the very day he was born, has no idea what I’m goin’ through.

I want him to know so like an attention seeker I say “hey hey, let’s play a game! What is your oniichan thinking about?”

Adonis: Is that why he thinks you're annoying and hates you?

Rei: H-he doesn’t hate me! The Bible says that a younger brother loves his older brother as much as his older brother loves his younger brother!

Adonis: I see. As my view was incorrect, I apologise.

Rei: Adonis-kun, anyone ever told you you’re a joke killer?

Adonis: Killer…? I’ve been trying to keep a low profile so I do not earn a shameful nickname such as that.

I am a foreigner. Even if you don’t want to, you stand out in this country. It’s sad, but that is often how things go. Especially mothers with children tend to be strangely wary of me.

That’s why I believe it is better for me to be a good child, who is quieter than needed, serious, and harmless.

Rei: Hm. Since you have a different point of view, you see things most people wouldn’t see.

How could I think you of all people, was the person behind those “vampires”?

It’s been worse than usual, but it feels like my thoughts are bein’ influenced by someone. Feels pretty bad.

It’s like I’m bein’ forced to be a character in some story told by someone I know nothin’ about.

Is it just a puberty thing? Whaddya think, Adonis-kun?

Adonis: I don’t know. But I do think that accusing me of being the culprit and denouncing me was out of character for you.

Fortunately, everything seems to have been cleared up but to be honest, it hurt me a little.

Even you misunderstood me.

Rei: Ah, yeah, I’m sorry. I really love you though, you know?

Adonis: It’s not a matter of liking or disliking me. It’s about recognition and understanding.

Koga: …What are you two talkin’ ‘bout?

You said we was practicin’ for the battle against the “vampires” today… Yet Hakaze ain’t even here.

Thought you’d bring him with you Sakuma-senpai, and uh, who’s this?

Adonis: I am Otogari Adonis. I have told you my name numerous times.

Koga: Adonisu… What’s this got to do with him?

Is this really okay? Can we even beat these “vampires”? Of course, if Sakuma-senpai is here we won’t have a problem but—

Rei: Realllyyy now. Maybe I’ll betray you again like I did at the Deadmanz live, hm?

I don’t really like it when people depend on me. Doesn’t really do it for me ya know.

C’mon, Wan-chan, tell me somethin’ inspirational ♪

Koga: I dunno how to do that…

I wrote a song for the Drefes, incase we hadta perform somethin’. I was jus’ tryin’ my hand at writin’ a song myself.

Rei: Really now? Impressive, you’re lookin’ like a real band member ♪ Go on then, show me ♪

Koga: I-its not very good so don’t have too high of expectations please![1]

I only picked this up as a hobby in the past few years, and since I’m self-taught, I’m still not perfect so—

Rei: What’s with the sudden keigo? Stop it, it’s not you.

Durin’ the Deadmanz live you was bitin’ ‘n snappin’ at me, weren’t ya?

Koga: I was excited then… But now we’re in a band together, and we’re closer, you somehow seem more impressive to me.

I-I’m nervous… I apologise if I made you uncomfortable, I don’t want to upset you again so quickly.

Rei: Upset me? Interestin’ wordin’... Hah, hahaha?

Ah, yeah. Wanna try playin’ that song of yours?

♪~♪~♪

[ ☆ ]

koga starts using polite speech, which as you may know, is not something he does often lol

Chapter 9

Chapter 11

#ensemble stars #enstars #translation #undead climax #adonis otogari #rei sakuma #koga oogami

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boygiwrites · 6 months

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Author's Note.

As always, enjoy reading :) And uuuh prepare yourself.

"There you guys are."

Dale says this because he's been waiting for us. He pushes himself off the crumbled fireplace, anxiously gripping the strap of his rifle like he always does, like he's glued it there and hasn't bothered removing it. He always looks nervous and angry at the same time.

"Whatchu all the way over here for?" Dad asks, setting his crossbow down by his chair. "Couldn't wait for visitin' hours?"

"Listen, I'm going to be frank here." He mutters, his bushy white brows disappearing under the brim of his fisherman's hat. The adults have always muttered when they don't want the kids listening in on them, but now it's actually working, and I don't like that, so I make a point of sitting on the lip of the cobblestones nearby. I pretend to take off my boots and pour the dirt out, even though they're already empty. "If we don't do something, come dusk," He says in a very important way, "Jim will be dead."

"Ain't that kinda the point?" He deadpans.

Dale hates that response. He scoffs. "No. You're a smart man, Daryl. You can see why this is crazy."

I don't know what he thinks he's doin', tryna convince my Dad to call off the execution. I guess it didn't go over so well with Rick.

"Can I?" He drawls, entirely unconvinced. "Ain't nun' crazy 'bout squashing a bug."

"We're not talking about a bug." He argues. "We're talking about a human being. A human being that's made mistakes, yes, but haven't we all? I mean, how many times have you said something somebody didn't like? That isn't a crime. Certainly doesn't warrant the death penalty."

"Man, save it. You getcher'self in the mix with my daughter in a way I'on like, you get what's comin' to ya. That's just how it is."

"And I— I can appreciate that. You're a family man. You love your daughter. You love Harley and you want to protect her," He reasons, and as he says this, I think, pshh, what does this have to do with anything, which is what Dad must be thinking, too, 'cause he rolls his eyes a bit. "But don't you love her enough to want her growing up in a world that doesn't punish so harshly? Hasn't she seen enough death?"

Sure I have. But like all things we once thought were impossible, it's now just a matter of, what's one more? What's one more dead man in the ground? Jim's death will be a different type of killing, sure, but they're all just bodies in the end. We've done this before.

"Watch yourself." Dad's look turns sharp at that. "Don't tell me what I already know."

"I'm just trying to—"

"Look." He cuts him off. "I know what's best for my daughter. The world I want her growin' up in is one that ain't made'a fairytales. People gotta die, Dale. Already have. And they ain't gonna stop just 'cause one man pulls out his thesaurus and starts cryin' about it. Lil' Jimmy, he's a threat to the group. He's a threat to my lil' girl, and it don't get any more black and white than that for me."

"But does that mean he has to die?"

"It means this conversation's over." He throws a hand up, turns away. "I ain't y'all's Momma. Go talk to Rick about it s'more if ya wanna."

"I already have." He calls after him uselessly, before sighing and giving up altogether. He seems to remember that I'm here too, and sends me a small smile. "Sorry, Harley," He says, "Maybe I shouldn't have brought that up with you here."

"Naw, it's alright." I shrug, joking, "I been through worse before."

That makes him chuckle, despite himself. "You have, have you?"

"But can I tell you sum'?"

He pauses, frowns. "'Course you can."

"Just stop." I say very plainly, in a way I hope he understands. "Just stop. It ain't worth it."

Ain't you just a little pot of wisdom, as Merle liked to say, whenever I told him he shouldn't sniff that white powder so often, or to try lookin' at the sky when he got too angry. Smarty-pants, is what Dad preferred to say. I got a bad habit of tellin' people what to do, sometimes, but it ain't that I'm wise or smart or want a damn medal, do ya. I just don't want Dale doin' what I did, tryna fight things ya can't fight, like with Sophia and Shane. In a way, I guess Jim's right. Ya can't fight death. It's just one of them things ya can't put a knife in.

I know Dale's tryna do good. That's what he is. A do-gooder. That's what Dad used to call the people at church. Always fightin' the good fight. With words and bibles and morals. But that ain't how things work now. I know Dale wishes it was, but it ain't.

From the look on Dale's face, it seems that just by saying this, I've as good as killed Jim myself.

"But-But, honey," He stammers. "How can you say that?"

"'Cause," I wiggle my boot on and stand. "People just gotta die, sometimes."

His lip curls. "Your Dad been teaching you that?"

"Yeah." I don't know why he says that like it's a bad thing. "People die, people mourn, life moves on. That's what he says."

"I don't want to argue with you on this." He shakes his head, hiding irritation. "You're too young to know what you're talking about."

He's like Lori. He wants to live like it was before, back when we had homework and couldn't say fuck, or shit, or fuck-shit. Back when we had courtrooms and judges and churches that were standing. 'Cause back then, Jim wouldn't be killed.

He blanches a little, before calling out to Dad, "You need to re-think what it is you're teaching your daughter."

As he huffs and walks away, Dad sends me a confused look.

"Nothin'." I sigh dismissively, heading over to join him by the dead fire pit, where he's knifed open a tin of baked beans. I stand in between his knees and he spoons some out and feeds them to me. "I jush argued with him a lil', 'das all."

"I ain't tell you to do that." He jokes, wiping sauce from my chin with the spoon.

I garble around my mouthful, "Well, I did tell him Jim's gotta die. Ya did say 'dat."

"Guess I did... But don't worry 'bout old Dale. He's a—"

"—He's a do-gooder." We say at the same time.

He scoffs amusedly. "Yeah. Exactly."

I swallow and open my mouth for the next spoonful, which I munch on with a smile. "How 'bout that deer just now, huh?"

"Pretty cool." He agrees absentmindedly, giving me a small smile back. Only once I open my mouth again does he tell me, "Listen, baby." I snap it shut once I realize he's not going to lift the spoon. For a terrible second, I think he knows about the shed. It's nonsense, of course. Andrea promised she wouldn't snitch, but the thought's still stuck to the back of my head. "About them things I said last night..."

Oh. Right. I don't say anything. I just stand and listen. I gotta get better at that.

"About your Momma givin' up," He struggles to say. "Weren't right'a me. Things are tough right now, but... weren't right'a me."

"It's alright, Dad." I tell him. Not a lot is alright these days, but we are. I forgive him. "You was right, anyway."

My Momma did give up. Whether I like how it sounds or not, that's what suicide means, and my Momma gave up. She gave up on me and Daddy, gave up on fighting, and she gave up on life, too, in the end. Like the rest, she was weak. Like Sophia. Like me.

"C'mere." He sets the tin aside and pulls me onto his lap, cradling my head under his chin. "Don't matter who was right. I love you."

"I love you, too, Dad."

Two I love you's in the same day. What on Earth is goin' on? You'd think the apocalypse had started or somethin'.

He pulls back, holding my face in his big, grimy hands. "I wantchu to stay wit' the women when we kill Jim tonight."

I suck in a breath, asking, "How you gonna do it?"

"I'on know yet." He admits as he smooths down my baby hairs, swipes some dirt from my cheek. "But you don't need t'see it. I know that."

I give a nod. I wish I could see, but that would never be allowed. "Okay."

"Okay." He repeats, kissing my temple. "Good girl."

As I finish off the rest of the beans, I gaze out over Dad's shoulder, watching Dale's tiny figure wander over to the other side of the farm, off to go try convince the next person he comes across that this is all a terrible idea. Off to fight the good fight, which no one's ever won.

The best part of my day is when Maggie slaps Andrea across the face.

It's not that I hate Andrea or anythin' like that, unlike some other people around here, but it's just kinda funny. As I walk up to the house, she holds her reddened cheek with her mouth agape in shock, while Maggie stands over her, totally fuming. I like her even more now.

"Stay away from her." She scolds her hotly. "From both of us. Don't you dare step foot inside this house again."

After struggling to find something to say, she wordlessly turns and hurries away.

"What's goin' on?" I call up to Maggie and Lori, who are standing on the porch.

"Nothing, sweetie." Lori assures me, but she seems heated. She moves to the side to let Maggie storm inside, and follows her in after.

I find Carl past the patch of tall trees by the house, past the overgrown fence and sitting in the seat of an abandoned tractor, fiddling with his hat in his lap. I'm still a little angry with him. For trying to control me like I'm his pet dog, and treating me like I'm some sort of practice run for his little sister or brother. But that don't mean I can't talk to him. I climb one of the big tyres, crossing my arms over the rusty hood.

He glances at me but decides not to say anything.

"Did you tell Maggie about the knife?"

"Yeah." He admits, not surprising me in the slightest. I don't see why else Andrea would be on Maggie's bad side. "What do you care?"

I frown in confusion. "Huh? I don't. I was just asking."

"Oh." He puts his hat on and looks at me. "I thought you came over here to argue some more."

"Nah." I shrug one shoulder, tracing my finger along the cracked ridges of the old, red metal. "Don't wanna."

Gazing out onto the barn, I see Rick through the open doors, pacing the dirt floor and looking up at the rafters with some rope in his hands. I make out a loop on the end of it, and then I realize it's not a rope, it's a noose. He's looking for a place to hang Jim.

"That's how they're gonna do it." I murmur to myself. "They is gonna hang him after all."

"Gunshot would attract the horde." Carl supposes.

Rick takes hold of a wooden banister, pushes on it, checks its sturdiness.

"True. I ain't thought of that."

"He told me we're gonna be sleeping in the house, soon. Because Winter's coming, and all."

That's a funny thought. Feels like just yesterday Rick was begging Herschel to let us stay, and now we're facing Winter together.

"Guess it's good Jim's dyin' now, then," I muse, "So he don't gotta freeze to death instead."

After a couple more minutes, Rick stops pushing on banisters and attaches the noose to the spot he's chosen. I guess that's it, then.

"It's almost time." Lori says to Rick as the sun begins to set, like a ball of orange sand in a glass timer. "I know this isn't easy for you."

She doesn't know that, but she likes saying it, anyway, because she wants to believe it and it sounds nice. But I think we all know that Rick is a little beyond caring about ending a person's life for the good of the group. He might not love it, but it's like Dad says. There's only two options, and when push comes to shove choosing the best one, the one that keeps us safe, things become pretty damn easy.

He nods, knuckles going white as he grips the porch railing. I guess he doesn't have the guts to tell her she's wrong.

Inside, the group are gathering to have what Dale calls a discussion. It's his last-ditch attempt at stopping the execution, and Rick's not happy about it, but he's willing to hear him out. It's pretty obvious we're all just stalling the inevitable, though.

"You don't have to be the one to do it." Lori continues after he's said nothing.

On the deck chair beside me, Dad sits with his elbows on his knees, his fingers interlocked, wriggling. He offers gruffly, "I can do it."

"No." Rick shakes his head. "It has to be me. Bringing him back was my decision. Makes this is my responsibility."

I wonder how you even kill someone using a noose. I guess what they're debating is who's gonna kick the stool Jim stands on.

Dad doesn't argue back. The only person he really wanted to kill was Shane, and he did that. This one goes to Rick.

The door swings open.

Maggie pokes her head out. "Everyone's ready."

Rick takes a deep breath, gives one last look to Lori, and heads inside.

"C'mon." Lori takes Carl's shoulder and guides him to sit in Dad's chair. "I want you to stay out here with Jimmy and Harley."

"But, Mom," He argues, "I wanna listen."

"Uh-uh. Not this time, baby."

Just as Lori goes inside and Dad is about to follow her in, Carl blurts out, "Daryl, wait."

He pauses in the doorway. Confusion pinches his features. I go still, glance at Carl side-long, hold my breath. There's no way he's doing what I think he is. Why else would he stop my Dad? Please, no. Just say something stupid and useless and let him go inside.

In a moment that makes me want to put my hands around his neck, Carl says exactly what I didn't want him to.

"Harley snuck into the shed and talked to Jim."

I bite down a thousand curses. Carl Grimes, that little snitch. I cannot believe he told on me. Not even Andrea did.

Dad's face contorts into a look of rage, pinning me in place, making my heart race until it's punching against my sternum like a fist. Now I'm realizing just how much of an idiot I was for breaking the rules. All Dad wants is for me to be safe. He's gotta look out for dangers like Jim, but I'm becoming a danger to myself, now, too, 'cause I'm an idiot and I went in that shed like an idiot and spoke to Jim like an idiot.

He grabs the door handle like he's tryna crush it between his fingers and slams the door shut behind him.

The windows rattle behind me and Carl.

I let out a breath, but I'm not relieved for long. I'm suddenly almost as angry as Dad was. I turn to Carl, fixing him with a scathing glare.

"Why in Satan's hot Hell," I grind through my teeth, "Did ya do that for?"

He looks all pleased with himself. "Because I'm responsible."

If I weren't already in deep trouble, and if Jimmy wasn't out here to witness it, I would slap Carl so hard his baby teeth and his adult teeth would fall out his skull. I didn't snitch on him when he wanted to sneak into the woods. In fact, I helped that jerk.

"You know, I'm about sick'a you." I tell him, because it makes me feel better. "You been buggin' me so bad today."

"I've been bugging you?" He exclaims incredulously.

"Ya heard me. First ya tell Carol her dead daughter ain't in heaven, then you start actin' like I'm a baby, and now ya snitch on—"

"Well, you are a baby!" He shocks me into silence with that. "You're a baby, Harley. You might know what a chantrelle mushroom is, and you might shoot better than me, but you're still just a stupid baby, and I'm right for looking out for you. You can't do it yourself!"

Jimmy awkwardly wonders further down the porch, pretending he doesn't hear our argument.

"Well, I hope your baby sister or brother hates your damn guts," I snarl, "'Cause I sure do."

"I'm just trying to set a good example like Dad told me to!"

"Nah, you're using me as a fuckin' test-sister and breathin' down my neck when I don't wantchu to! Get off my back!"

He huffs angrily, rolling his eyes. "Whatever. I'm glad you're not my sister, anyway."

"And I'm glad you ain't my brother." I mumble, turning my back to him and crossing my arms. "Damn snitch."

I almost wish Carl never found out he was gonna be a big brother. It's turned his head big. He thinks he can play house with me and act like some hero just 'cause his Dad told him to, but I don't need no damn boy who don't even know how to skin a squirrel to look out for me. He ain't an adult and I ain't a baby. I don't even like it when he reads his comics to me or holds my hand when he wants to take me somewhere or shares things with me or listens extra hard when I'm teaching him something. I meant it. I'm glad he ain't my brother.

Screw him. When his sibling's born, he's gonna forget all about me, his pretend-sister, and I'm not gonna care one bit.

Inside, my Dad's voice is the loudest outta everybody's. To know what he's actually saying, I would have to ask Carl to translate, and there's no way in Hell I'm talking to him right now, or ever. I hear tidbits of Dale's voice, Glenn's, Jacqui's, T's. After a while, I hear shouting.

"If you were so sure you wanted to kill him," It's Dale. "Why'd you cover his face?! I know you have humanity in you!"

It seems nobody answers him, or he just doesn't wanna listen anymore, because the door opens and he steps out.

"Go ahead and slaughter that human being, then." He calls over his shoulder. "I won't be a party to it!"

He trudges down the steps, across the field, ducks into his tent, disappears. The thought that he might be crying makes my chest clench.

After that, the others file out. When I see Dad again, I feel like I might throw up.

He beelines for me, grabs my arm, pulls me off the chair.

"Get up." He seethes.

"What's going on?" Rick asks in concern.

"She messed up, that's what's goin' on." He drags me down the stairs. "Snuck into the shed and talked to Jim."

I hear Jacqui gasp at that. "What? When?"

Rick calls out to us, "Remember what I said, Daryl! If I see a bruise, I'll shoot you dead!"

"Man, whatever!"

He sounds pissed he would even suggest he's gonna beat me, but I don't think Rick really believes he'd do it, anyway. He just had to say it.

When we reach our camp, he throws me onto the stump and I sit there with a lump in my throat while he chews me out.

"Girl, I'on even have words for you." He says harshly, looking at me like I'm a nasty stain on his boot. "What the Hell were you thinkin'?"

"I—I just— I was just so angry, I wanted to—"

"I'on give a shit what you wanted." He cuts me off. "And I guess you don't give a shit what I want neither, do ya? Huh? Tellin' me you wanted to die, that was one thing, but what? Now you're tryn'? I gotta tie you down to stop ya, is that it? 'Cause gimme the word and I'll do it!"

"N-No," I quickly tell him, watching him pace back and forth. "I was just— I was just bein' an idiot."

"You're Hell right, you were bein' an idiot." He notices Merle's knife strapped to my shorts and lunges forward. "Gimme this damn thing."

He tears the button apart and rips the sheath offa me, stuffing it into the back of his pants line.

"You'll get this back when I can trust ya not to open up yer wrists with it." He growls before turning away.

I don't move from the stump for the next ten minutes. I watch him start a fire, heat up a tin of soup and eat it, and by then a whole hour has gone by and I realize I'm gonna be here longer than I thought. The sun goes down. Another hour, and I'm still sitting here. He doesn't talk to me, doesn't look my way. He doesn't even give me dinner. After that, another hour. He makes a few arrows. It gets colder and he gives me his flannel to put on, but after that, another two hours. It's around everyone's bed time when Glenn walks over and tells him it's time.

Dad understands what he means straight away and stands up, because there's only one thing he could be talking about.

"Stay with her." He orders Glenn without room for argument, and marches away.

Glenn watches him go, then sends me a small smile. "Hey, Harley."

"Hey, Glenn." I say a little glumly.

"You wanna come sit by the fire while we wait?"

I shake my head. "I'm in time-out. I gotta stay over here."

He nods and comes to sit in the dirt beside me, hugging his knees. The sounds of crickets chirping fills the air.

"I heard what you did." He muses after a long stretch of silence. "I'm not gonna add insult to injury, but that wasn't cool, Harley."

"So I've heard." I mutter, picking at threads.

"I mean, you could've gotten hurt." He patiently explains. "We don't know what Jim might've done to you in there."

"He hates me 'cause I remind him of his kids, y'know. He says I deserve to die like they did. Thinks it ain't fair."

"Wow." He scoffs to himself. "What a jerk."

"I think my Dad's got some more colorful words for him than that."

"Oh, I do, too." He warns, making me giggle. If Glenn wants to swear, that's how you know it's bad. "But we'll stick with 'jerk' for now."

"I think Lori would appreciate that." After a pause, I ask, "Did you talk to Maggie?"

"Yeah. I did."

"How'd it go?"

"It went good." He grins a little. "I got your advice to thank for that."

Aw. I'm happy for them. "I'll be giving Dale a run for his money, soon."

As we're both suppressing laughter at the thought of my life advice being better than Dale's, the group's wise owl, a gunshot cracks out across the farm. We both flinch. Our smiles fade. He puts an arm in front of me on instinct, looking out into the dark. What the Hell?

"They're hangin' him." I utter, seeing nothing but trees and night, "They hangin' him, Glenn. Why was that a gunshot?"

"I-I don't know." He grabs my hand, pulls me to my feet and keeps me close in case we gotta run. "I don't know."

Then comes the screaming. It's not Jim's.

"Dale," Glenn gasps right as my stomach hits the ground.

Then the group is running across the field and there are guns in their hands and flashlights are cutting through the grass. Glenn takes off running with me, his hand in mine, and I'm thinking that I should be on the stump, I'm gonna get in so much trouble for moving from the stump, but nobody's thinking about my time-out because there's all that screaming and Dale— Dale might be dying.

When we collide with the group, Dad takes hold of me and asks me if I'm alright, if I'm alright, and I struggle to nod.

"What's happening?" I whine, as Lori and T-Dog ask the same thing to two other people. "What happened to Jim?"

"We had to leave him in the barn." He says breathlessly before I'm running again.

There's a mess of running legs and bodies and panicking and then the squeaking of a gate, and then I'm pushing past everyone and then the world stops because there's a bundle on the ground. It's Dale. I hear someone retch. All of him, guts and all, spread out in the grass.

My Dad rushes forward and daggers the walker that's on top of him. "Come on, help! Help, he's— Fuck!"

"Who is it?" Lori shrieks as she runs to us, only to stop dead in her tracks when she sees.

Rick throws himself next to Dale's head. He's cradling his head and muttering things to him, and Dale's moaning and huffing and puffing and wheezing like a half-dead animal as the cavity in his chest pours blood into the grass. I do nothing but stand there in shock, watching it pour, pour, pour. There's shouts for Herschel, shouts for stupid things like bandages and stitches that make no sense and are just so awful, because ain't no bandage gonna fix Dale's missing stomach and his sprawled organs and the bite marks on his neck.

"We're gonna help," Rick's promising him while Andrea cries over his body, "We're here. We're here."

I'm wrapped up in a hug. Glenn. He steps backwards with me, holding me tight, saying nothing.

I was talking to him just this afternoon. I swear I was. He was right in front of me and he was alive, and I was talking to him and now he's laid out and torn open, and his insides are on his outsides, and I couldn't talk to him even if I tried, even if I had words to speak.

Herschel's here. He crouches, hovers his hands because there's nowhere to put them, no wound to put pressure on.

"What can we do?" Rick's asking him, up to his elbows in Dale, our friend's, blood. "We have to move him. Can we move him?"

Herschel stands, eyes bulged. "He won't make the trip."

"We have to do the operation here," Rick's saying, but it's useless. "We hav— We have to—"

"Rick." He puts a hand on his shoulder.

"No." He cries, turning away, holding his face. "No. No, no, no!"

"Oh, Dale." Andrea sobs, and somehow this is the worst part because Andrea never cries, and neither does Rick or Glenn, but they're all crying, all doubling over and sniffling and no-no-no-ing, because there's nothing we can do. Dale is dying right in front of us, dying in our hands. Carl gapes at the walker laying nearby, and that's when I notice the clumps of mud on its ankles, and I grab tighter onto Glenn and Carl runs to his Momma, because that's the walker from the swamp. The one we didn't kill. Andrea weeps, "He's suffering."

Another groan wracks Dale's mangled body, and we all feel it in our bones, because she's right.

"Do something!" She begs.

God fucking damn it, why didn't we just kill that thing when we had the chance? Please, it ain't— It ain't our fault, right?

It's Sophia all over again. The something is a bullet. Someone has to shoot Dale like we shot Sophia. Oh, God, Jim was right. Dale, my wise old friend, the man who just wanted to go around the country with his wife and his RV and read poetry books, dying in a paddock on the edge of a random farm in Georgia. I wonder if he's scared. Dale's never scared. He's one of the bravest people I know.

Rick raises his gun. I don't look away. I don't cry. I don't feel much of anything except my heartbeat in my mouth.

"Don't look," Glenn tells me, "D-Don't look."

Jacqui hides her face in Carol's neck. T-Dog turns away. Dad glances at me, tells me he's sorry with just a look.

We all know what has to happen.

He pulls the hammer back.

Dale coughs, looking into the barrel. He knows what has to happen, too.

Rick can't do it. His arm falters. He has to walk away, into Lori's arms, where he doesn't have to see it.

Dad steps up instead, raises his gun.

"Sorry, brother."

A bang.

And then Dale's face is blown to bits and I didn't even get to say goodbye.

Walking back to camp. Dad washing my face. Stamping out the fire, climbing in the tent. I don't really remember any of it, because I'm thinking about the sight of Dale's body wrapped in a white bedsheet and how when I wake up tomorrow, we'll have another funeral.

Dad sleeps beside me tonight. He holds me, soothes my hair, but he doesn't tell me everything's alright.

All of us are in shock. Back at main camp, I imagine Glenn will be sat up by the fire until sunrise, staring into the ashy pit, just thinking, mourning. Who's gonna teach him how to fix the RV's quirks now? Carl will be cuddled up with his parents, too. They'll be holding him tight. In the next tent over, Jacqui sniffling herself to sleep. Carol bunking with T. I don't think anyone's gonna be sleeping in the RV tonight.

Not for any real reason, but because it was Dale's.

I'm the only person awake. Alone with the white sky and my thoughts, I stare out at the tiny oak tree.

For some reason, the only thing I can think of is what we're gonna do with all of Dale's books. It's not important, but it's what I think about. He had Italian poetry, boring old non-fiction, a few thick classics that I saw him lend to people from time to time. Maybe they'll just stay in the RV, in all those nooks and crannies he had them stacked in. I won't see Glenn wasting the afternoon away reading a book on mystery, or Lori rummaging around for a romance book but only finding more poetry. Like I said, not important. But it hurts too much to think of other things.

Like how much I'll miss his chuckle-snort, the way he petted his pockets when he couldn't find his glasses. How he was good.

When Dad steps out the tent, he finds me sitting over here in the grass, still wearing his flannel.

He carefully sits beside me, and we just watch the thick fog roll over the farm together.

At the funeral, Rick talks about Dale's ability to read people, to know who they really are, and how he could always get under your skin by telling you what you needed to hear, not what you wanted to hear. I try very hard not to look at Sophia's grave. I never got to be at her funeral. I wonder what types of things Rick said that day. Something about her love for her Momma, or how she was kind, I'm sure.

When it's my turn to speak, I tell everyone that Dale was a better friend to me than my own Grandpappy ever was.

Maggie makes us all scrambled eggs and sweet-smelling tea after that, because we're sad and she's a sweetheart.

Then there's talk of moving sleeping bags into the house, dividing spare rooms, using the windmill for a lookout post. Others are saying those two gunshots last night are going to attract the horde and that we don't need to re-enforce the fence, we need to leave.

Me, I don't get involved. I sit on the sofa next to Lori and Carl and watch the fireplace dance away.

Then chores to numb the mind, collecting eggs and filling troughs. Carl don't talk to me the whole time. We're still pissy at each other.

Jim's execution is postponed. After what happened last night, nobody thought it felt right, and he got locked up in the shed again. I don't even think about going anywhere near it. I tried this morning to set myself back down on the stump again, but Dad gave me a soft, no, baby, and told me to come get dressed instead. I've learnt my lesson. No more puttin' myself at risk, and no more bein' an idiot.

I'm gonna really miss Dale. He's the smartest old person I've ever met.

I catch myself.

Was, now.

Author's note.

The moment I've been dreading writing. Dale is dead.

I love Dale. Especially since I started re-watching the show with some family, who all love him too. I tried fitting in a scene where he, Glenn, and Harley got a final talk together, but it just didn't work. It wasn't realistic. Nobody ever knows when disaster is going to strike, and you don't always get to part on good terms.

And my poor Harley has lost another person she cares for. That being said, she's more hardened than she was when Shane and Sophia died, so this won't be as devastating for her character. It's actually going to be good for her. Good riddance to the suicide arc.

Rest in peace to Dale Horvath, the wise old do-gooder.

Thank you for reading! :)

@poetoflawed

#fanfic #the walking dead #daryl dixon #twd #angst #rick grimes #twd fanfiction #daryl dixon daughter #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon twd #ao3 fanfic #dale horvath #daryl dixon x reader #original character #fluff #hurt comfort #hurt/comfort

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emilymaxximoff · 1 year

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Deserve Better; Enid X Fem!Reader

CW: Some angst, Struggling with your sexuality, Fluff

Description: After Ron and Enid break up, you let Enid know that she has better options than him.

A/N: Confession time (sorry this note is gonna be long), I've been siting on this one for a hot sec. The absolute bi panic I feel between Carl and Enid is absurd. There's not a ton of Enid fics that I could find so I took it upon myself to write one of my own. This is definitely inspired by Boyfriend by Dove Cameron because, gay. I have been super excited bout this one. I definitely want to write more about her too. I mean just look at the GIF. Also the panic of do I want to be her or be with her is so real with her. Once agin disclaimer, everyone is at least 18. I am 19 and anything else creeps me out. The actors themselves are more than old enough now so like just please. It would mean so much to me if y'all reposted but don't feel like you have to. Love you!

-----

"Hey Y/N!" You heard someone yell behind you. You turned around and immediately smiled. It was Enid. You felt butterflies in your stomach as she lightly jogged towards you with a wicker laundry basket. She had a beautiful glow about her and her hair gently fell around her face.

"Hey Enid." you said as you gave her a cheesy grin. God she was beautiful. You had had a crush on her for years but you would never admit it. It was the apocalypse but people were still people and you were worried about if people would judge you. You also had no idea if Enid liked girls and she had just broken up with Ron so it seem a worse time as any to suddenly admit your feelings. Thankfully the break up didn't seem to bother her much. The only person who knew about your crush was Carl. That fucker knew everything about you. He knew before you did. He could read you like a comic book.

"So, I've been thinking and I think we need to have a girls night tonight. I've got shit to talk about." she said as she smiled back at you.

"Oh dear."

"Oh yes. Meet you at my house around sunset?"

You bit your lip and gave her a joking half grin. "Yeah, yeah. I'll see you then. I have guard duty tomorrow night though so we have to get some sleep tonight." you laughed.

"Great!" she squealed. "I'll see you later."

Your heart was beating out of your chest. You had sleepovers often but every time you still got butterflies. You always had to suppress the urge to lean over and kiss her and tell her how you felt but that never happened and you told yourself it never would. She made you so happy and she had no idea how much she meant to you and how much you loved those nights where it was just you two. She didn't know how much you wanted to hold her hand and hold her as you fell asleep. She had no idea how weak your knees felt as she let you wear her shirt and you breathed in the smell.

You started off towards the Grimes house to talk to Carl. He understood and you needed the support right now. You didn't even need to have the words for him to understand. You walked in the door and casually greeted Rick before climbing up the stairs and going into Carl's room.

"Hey shithead." you said throwing off your shoes and flopping down on his bed next to him.

"Well hello to you too." he laughed. "What's up?"

"I don't know my heart is just about to come out my ribcage and kill me but besides that I'm doing just peachy." you replied as dramatically as you could, sighing and putting the back of your hand on your forehead.

"Enid again?" he laughed at your dramatics, raising his eyebrow.

"Wow how'd you guess?" you rolled your eyes. "We're having a girls night again and you know how I feel during those. She's just so perfect god damn it."

"You should just tell her already. It's driving you insane and she broke up with Ron so it's a great time."

"YoU SHoUlD JuSt telL hEr." you mocked. "Yeah that will work out fucking great. I don't even know if she likes girls. I don't want to ruin our friendship."

"Jesus ok. You don't gotta be a bitch about it. I was just saying I hate to see you dancing around it like a pussy." he grinned at you.

You grabbed a pillow and threw it at him. You laughed as he put his hands up and laughed back. "Fuck you."

"Hey don't shoot he messenger just cause he's right."

-----

You took a breath as you knocked on the door of the Rhee house. Maggie opened the door and smiled at you. "Hey Y/N she's in her room. Let me know if you want snacks or anything. I don't have anything to do tonight." she said motioning you inside.

"Thanks Maggie. I'm good for now thanks." you said as you quickly rushed up the stairs towards Enid's room. You knocked lightly on the door and smiled waiting for the go ahead to come in.

"Come in." You saw her slime as you open then door and come in. "Y/N omg. Come here. I've got just so much shit to say."

You giggled and sat next to her on the soft bed. "Ok spill." you said crossing your legs and turning to look at her.

Oh did she have lots to say. She talked about her runs and her guard duties. She told you about the walkers she killed and how Maggie was nagging her about learning more combat. She ranted about Lydia and how annoying she was. You listened to every word she had to say, putting in input where appropriate. Everything was perfect. Just you two talking and sharing experiences. That was until Ron came up.

"Ron is trying to get back together with me again." you rolled your eyes. "Hey I know we just broke up but still. It's like how much else is there in the world at this point."

"I mean there is a lot more. I'm just saying you can do so much better. You deserve better. Ron is probably one of the worst options right now. He's mean to you a lot of the time." you replied, nervously playing with your hands.

"Yeah ok sure. Who then? Carl? Fuck no." she laughed sarcastically.

"No. As his friend I can tell you no. I'm saying there are other options." you paused. "Better options."

"Ok fine then tell me. What other person could I be with that's better?"

"A lot of people. Ron is awful." you said, trying so hard not to blurt out yourself.

"Ok but like who? We are some of the last people alive on this shithole." she said eying you. She could tell you had something on your mind.

You took a deep breath. You were frustrated and in the heat of the moment somehow you had courage. "I mean like me."

"What?" Enid stared at you wide eyed.

"Fuck. Just forget it. I'm sorry I didn't mean to." you sighed tears filling your eyes. You had been so mad at her naivety and you could stand it do you had blurted out your feelings. You felt as if you just wanted to melt away. Had you ruined your friendship? Was she mad? You couldn't look up at her. You were mortified.

"Hold up no. We need to talk about it. What did you mean?" Enid said reaching out to touch your shoulder. As she did you moved back, rejecting her touch and the tears you were holding back fell down your cheeks as you lifted your head to look at her emphatic face.

"NO! Fuck please stop. I didn't mean- I never meant to- just please lets move on or I'll just leave." You said shakily. You were trying to keep your composure but it was fading quickly.

"No. Y/N, I want to talk about this. I don't want to upset you but when someone you have known forever tells you that you could be good for them..... You want to know what they mean, ya know" Enid said as nicely as possible. You tried to read her face but it was impossible to in your distraught state.

"Fine. Do you honestly want the truth?" Enid nodded her head. "Honestly I've had feelings for you for a long time but you were with Ron and there are so many other factors like I don't know if you even like girls. I don't want you to hate me or think I'm creeping on you cause we sleep in the same bed all the time. It's not like that. I like you for more. Don't get me wrong I definitely wan to have sex but like it's more than that. I like your smile and personality and just everything you do. I mean again like I try not to let anyone know that I like girls so Carl is literally the only one who knows about my crush on you and also like I don't know if you like me or just girls cause you've never said anything. So I've been suppressing these feelings and I wasn't gonna say shit until... ya know... now."

You took a breath and looked at Enid for any validation. She smiled back at you in return. Your tears started to dry. "So what you're trying say is I should ditch men?" she smirked.

"I'm saying that I could be a better boyfriend than Ron ever could be." you said, leaning closer to her.

"Maybe I don't want a boyfriend anymore. Maybe I'm in the mood for a girlfriend now." Enid leaned close to you too, closing more space so you could feel her breath on your lips. You felt butterflies in your stomach and you couldn't contain the huge cheesy grin.

"Well I can be a better girlfriend than Ron too." Enid closed the gap, connecting your lips. she grabbed your face and pulled you even closer. You felt so happy and even through you were kissing her you just wanted to be closer, to become one being. You grabbed her hips and pulled the rest of her close to you. Even though it pained you, you separated once you were out of breath.

"As much as I want to keep going, I told you, I'm gonna be a better partner than you have ever had before. That means doing this the right way. Let me take you out on a date, a real one." you smiled.

Enid groaned and smiled. "I'm ok with rushing in."

"I know but still. I want this to last. I'm gonna do it by the book."

"Ok, I understand. Can we at least hold each other tonight?"

"Anything for you beautiful."

As you snuggled into Enid, you felt at peace for the first time in a long time. To know the girl you loved, loved you back. To know that at least one person could love you for who you were. For now, that's all that mattered.

#enid rhee #twd #the walking dead #lgbtq #enid rhee twd #enid twd #enid rhee x reader #twd imagine #enid rhee x you #wlw #bi panic

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pedros-admirer · 1 year

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Can’t Take My Eyes Off You

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Reader

Summary: You usually go down to the lake near you to draw and relax but this time a certain person catches your eye

Warning’s: Just fluff again with a use of Y/n! (I’m sorry if I do fluff it’s just cause I’m more comfortable just doing fluff if you understand <3)

It’s now the afternoon and it’s a wonderful summer day outside and you haven’t gone outside yet, so you decide you were gonna head down to the lake since it’s been quite cloudy out for most of the week.

So you then grab you tote bag and grab your sketchbook, drawing supplies, water, and your keys.

You then lock the door behind you and walked down the apartment stair’s down to the parking lot, you then unlocked your truck and then started to drive off to the lake.

As you parked your truck you grabbed your bag from the passenger seat and started walking down to the tree that backs onto the shore of the lake.

When you got situated you looked around and there were only few people there since it was quite late and the sun was starting to set, but as you looked to your left of the shore you see a man packing up his fishing gear. He had soft curl’s poking out of the back of his baseball cap and his eyes looked like softly melted chocolate as he glanced at you catching you staring at him.

He then let out a smile while slightly waving at you, as you were trying to say hi to look more normal about it your throat felt like your entire airway was about to collapse, you then finally said hi after stalling for a bit but it came out quite high pitched and you darted down back to your sketchbook totally humiliated.

“Y/n why would you say that you idiot, you could’ve just waved back!” You said whispering to yourself

You then decided to try and forget about it and to start back on a sketch you didn’t quite finish from last time you were here.

As you were drawing you heard jingling of a tackle box full of fishing lure’s and bait coming closer up from shore, the sound of footsteps then got louder and you then heard them stop right beside you.

“Hey, um sorry if I disturbed you I just wanted to properly introduce myself cause you look like a nice person to talk to and not a lot of people really come out here this late.” He said with a nervous laugh

“Oh ya you can call me Frankie by the way.” He said as he grazed his hand behind his neck fidgeting with his curls from being nervous to come up and talk to you

You couldn’t believe this was actually happening, you then got the confidence and started to introduce yourself

“No, no! Don’t worry about disturbing me you looked really nice and I really wanted to talk to you too actually.” You said while blushing slightly yet you didn’t know he could easily tell that you were

He then let out a chuckle of a sigh of relief that you also wanted to talk to him as he sat down next to you making your arm’s both slightly touch

“Sooo, what are you doing down here this late? Mostly I come down here since the fish are out and a ‘bout trying to find a last meal of the day as you can tell.” As he looked at his fishing gear propped on the side of the tree then looking back at you with a smile

“W-well I usually come down here to draw since it’s quiet, beautiful, and not a lot of people are that loud this late so I don’t get as distracted as I usually would and there’s a lot of inspiration around here for what to draw.” You said trying not to fumble your words from his soft arm’s that you could hold every minute of the day

He then looked down at your sketchbook tapping it while looking back up at you “Can I see, well some of your work?”

You were quite timid about showing him your work since you never think it’s good enough and that you could improve so much more.

“Know what sure, I’m not really good at it well I actually haven’t shown my work to anyone before.”

He then took the book from your hands looking up to you with a small amount of shock that you haven’t showed anyone your sketches before and that he would be the first to see them besides you. As he was taking the book from your hands he grazed his hands over yours for a bit longer then normal

“WHAT!?” He said with his eyes widened at a cityscape sketch you did

“These should be put in an art gallery, you did these all by yourself?!” He said as he looked back up to you with his mouth was slightly open with a smile of shock and his eyebrows raised

“Ya, I try to do them in my free time as much as possible to get better but it’s quite hard since I’ve so busy lately.” You said with a smile on your face from him appreciating your work

“To get better?! Nooo don’t say that, look at this you made this all by yourself you should be so proud!” He said laying his arm on your shoulder showing the sketch you did

You then looked on your shoulder and back up at him while your eyes were lost in his while blushing and your heart racing

“I-I’m sorry it’s just-”

“No, I know.” He said as he wrapped his arm behind your neck as he got closer to you with his nose touching yours with just a breath away from each others lips

You both then get lost in both of your eyes as he then leans in closer until both of your lips connected

Never in a million year’s you would’ve thought this would ever happen, but here we are. The feeling of his lips were as soft as feathers, and his hands were as soft as the dandelions that were surrounding the both of you

He didn’t break the connection until you did just to see his eyes again with the feeling of tingling going up your spine

As you were looking into his eyes he then slid his hand from behind your neck to caress your jawline as he smiled

“Meet here 8:00 pm tomorrow on the dot.” He said as he whispered it into your ear, he then leaned back from your ear a bit to give you one last kiss on your velvet soft cheek before grabbing his stuff to leave

Thank you for reading this! please check out my other fic’s if you would like! Like’s, comment’s, and maybe a follow are appreciated!(NOT FORCING) I will try to post fic’s every two day’s! <333

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1d1195 · 2 years

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Hurt

Notes: Much like my Time series, this is just in my head and won’t leave. It’s a bit different than most of my other writing. It’s definitely got some sensitive implications and topics (please read the warnings below). I am definitely not well-versed—if you will—in what I’m about to write but I wanted to write something along with this song because I find it so heartbreakingly sad but lovely. In a weird way, I focus on the hope at the end (hence why you will see a bit of my regular self in this writing). I’m not stupid though: I know this is completely unrealistic. It has nothing to do with the actual scenario and everything to do with the song and if you squint it’s reminiscent of Johnny Cash and June Carter Cash and their undeniable infatuation with one another and how she would stick by him no matter what. That’s what I was going for. Please read the warnings below and don't read if you are struggling.

I promise Normal People Part 2 will be next. But when inspiration strikes you roll with it.

Warnings: implications of substance abuse, drugs, alcohol, pills, implications of overdosing. I think this could be very triggering so 18+, no minors allowed. Harry is basically used as a figure and not used for his actual character of course. If you would like to talk or chat my asks and messages are always open, and I love you all so much. This is your last chance to click away.

A special thank you to @a-strange-familiar and @adoringyouliz for reading ahead of time to help me decide if I should post this.

What have I become? / My sweetest friend / everyone I know / goes away, in the end / and you could have it all / my empire of dirt / I will let you down / I will make you hurt

She danced in the edges of his vision. He wasn’t completely high nor drunk, but he wasn’t quite sober. It was a regular occurrence now. His head aching with pain that wouldn’t subside without the familiar comfort of something in his system. It didn’t matter which vice he chose.

But then everything was shifting in his head. Something about how he felt was changing. “What did I do?” He murmured to himself. His eyelids fluttered close as he smushed his face into the pillow of his bed. He had been doing so good. So good for her. He could hear her scolding him now for doing this to himself. For hurting himself—and by extension her.

But he was just so sad.

And tired.

It was just not him to continue doing this, but he couldn’t help himself. It hurt less to be numb like this. When he wasn’t expected to do anything. When he could just lay there on his bed and not think of anything.

Nothing but her.

He managed to put his phone near his face. Blearily he texted as many of his friends as he could hoping someone would answer him late in that deafening early night. Nothing good ever happened after midnight unless she was around. But he couldn’t bring himself to bother her. To tell her that he hurt himself...again.

He was tired of being the one needing saving. He wanted to save her but didn’t know how. What could he give her, really? This dingy one bedroom with a mess in every corner of it? Including the mess in his head that was wrapped up in blankets on a dingy mattress?

Harry cracked the window early in the evening to release the smell of stale smoke from his room; with it open now, letting the cold breeze in, he was chilled to the bone. If he was smart, he would shut it. Or maybe if he had the strength, he would shut it. But instead, he stayed snuggled in his blankets.

No one he messaged answered his texts. They were used to his bouts and fits of spiraling. There was a bottle of pills on the floor near his phone and hand mocking him. He spilled several out of the bottle onto the floor. He pushed them into a ring of pain that he thought (and maybe hoped) would end if he took each one from the circle and swallowed it.

The minutes ticked by on his phone, and he thought he should just text her. If he texted her, she would make it better. Even when she didn’t want to, she always answered his calls.

But he couldn’t. She insisted that last time was the last time. The last time she would save him. She was exhausted. Tired of fixing him, tired of hoping, tired of waiting. She was really the sweetest. He could see it pained her to leave. Just like everyone else. She didn’t want to leave—maybe almost as much as he wanted her to stay. But he hurt her just as much as he hurt himself. He didn’t blame her, of course he didn’t. It was his fault.

All my fault. Always my fault. It was the one thing he best: pushed everyone away from him.

He never thought he would push her away.

So when he pulled the final string and broke her and made her leave, he did some soul searching. When she finally told him not to call her anymore when he needed her. Not to talk to her and to lose her number for good. But he couldn’t. He adored her. Even in his broken brain, he knew he loved her beyond reason and if he could just get it together, it would be for her and no one else.

But today was a bad day for him. He was sad, cold, devastated and broken beyond reason. He couldn’t do anything right at work. Dropping at least three glasses, getting into it with a belligerent customer, and arguing with his manager (even if they were what Harry would consider friends), and it just piled and piled. He was itching to leave the stupid bar where he poured drinks for people who were drunk, and he thought it was unfair they could be so at ease while drinking and he couldn’t.

It started with one drink.

It’s just a drink he thought.

But one drink turned into another. And the pain subsided. But only for a half hour or so. So, he had another. And that drink turned into a cigarette and Niall told him to wait just another hour before his shift was over and then he would drive him home. The second Harry crossed the threshold of his apartment, he was clawing at his arms, his fingers scraping skin under his nails, begging for a relief of some kind that he wanted more than anything. He wanted to feel numb. But the shrivel of rationality that hid in his brain—with the voice that sounded so much like her—was screaming at him to do anything but what he wanted to do.

Instead, he begged his neighbor—whose apartment permeated the smell of weed down the entire hall of the building—to let him in and have whatever he was willing to give him. That was hours and hours ago. Harry doesn’t remember the sixth and seventh drink. He doesn’t remember how he got the pills.

The only thought in his head reminded him that she would be mad at him. That made him feel worse. But even still, this felt worse than normal. Something about the way everything mixed: the feel of his nails scraping his skin, the alcohol, the pills, the weed. His head was aching as he looked at the pills—was there one less now? He couldn’t remember.

He just wanted to sleep. But when he slept, the thoughts of her were inescapable. Her beautiful smile, her lilting laugh, her gentle encouragement, her humor, her intelligence. Her entire being overwhelmed him and the only comfort he had was knowing she would star in his dreams. While it was delightful to see his angel while asleep, it made waking up so much harder. Especially now she had been gone for so long. It was a tease to see her in the dreams and then not have her at all. It made him mad and sad.

But sleep was winning over him. The pills and alcohol, along with the open window made his body shiver. He rubbed his face into the pillow and let his eyes close. At least he would see her soon.

If I could start again / a million miles away / I would keep myself / I would find a way

There was so much banging against the door. He thought it was weird they allowed that in the hotel. He supposed it probably made sense given it was now morning and he was still asleep. He probably overstayed his welcome again; slept through the cleaning ladies kindly asking him to leave. He should have gotten up, but his limbs felt so heavy he thought he would die trying to lift them.

The banging subsided finally, and he rested into a deeper sleep for all but a second. He didn’t dream of her—that was odd. He always dreamed of her. Maybe he finally pushed her out of his dreams too. The thought broke his heart and if he was awake, fully, he would have cried. He wanted to see her so bad. Wanted to envision her one last time before—

“Harry!” She shouted. It jolted his brain awake but not his body or eyes. She was definitely there. Her shout was too loud to be a dream. He wondered where she was—wanted to reach for her in the bed. Maybe she was having a nightmare.

Why was she at the hotel with him? Were they together again? On vacation? Surely, he would have remembered her careful planning. He couldn’t name one thing on her itinerary—how could he forget? Not remembering her itinerary, waking up late, that would be more grounds for her to leave for good. When did she come back? It was weird he didn’t remember that. He should have. Her coming back would have saved him that cold night.

“Harry, baby,” she cried. “Harry, please,” she begged. “It’s in the medicine cabinet!” She shouted. “Hurry!” He felt her warm hands on his face, but his eyelids felt just as heavy as his limbs. “Baby, please wake up,” she sobbed. It felt so sad she was so upset. He liked the way baby sounded on her lips. He liked being her baby. It made him feel flooded with the warmth of her love.

There was a cold sensation in his nose that tickled the inside and he wanted to jerk his head away, but his neck wasn’t moving. He wanted to rub it away from his nose, but he couldn’t; his limbs weren’t working the way he wanted them to.

All at once he was awake. He sat up, gasping, coughing, and sputtering but she was right there in his arms. She looped her arms around his neck, and she breathed out a shaky cry against him. He was shaking all over as his arms wound around her waist. He felt weak—he wanted to squeeze her to his body, but he felt like his limbs weren’t his own. He shook his aching head as he glanced over her shoulder to see the white nasal spray on the floor. He tried to piece it together more quickly, but he couldn’t. “Jesus Christ, Harry,” she sobbed in his ear.

He felt so nauseous he couldn’t even respond before he was throwing up over her shoulder like a baby but only so much worse. She didn’t even move. She wasn’t even fazed. She continued to cry into his neck as his body shivered and sweated.

But she was there.

She pulled back, the acidic smell of vomit not deterring her even slightly. She was so much better in real life than his visions and dreams. She was a vision. He had no right to look at this angelic being.

“M’sorry love,” it wasn’t Harry that said it. “I should have answered.”

She turned to glare at Harry’s best friend in the doorway and then she shook her head. She looked back at Harry. “Are you alright?” She whispered.

He nodded in stunned silence trying to make the pieces work together. This wasn’t a hotel. This was his apartment. He didn’t dream her. She was here. It was the cold night still. He was freezing. “You can leave,” she sniffled at his friend in the doorway. She put her hands on Harry’s chest, fiddled with the neckline of his shirt, picking at the edge of it. Harry was so confused. So shaky. He was sweating something fierce and the uneasiness in his stomach wasn’t helping.

“Harry,” Mitch said, dropping his hand from the doorframe. Harry looked up at him in complete confusion as to what was going on. His friend looked like he had seen a ghost. “This is it: don’t lose her,” he said.

He didn’t know what to say, he knew he was right, for whatever reason that may be. He nodded at him. When he heard the door click shut, he blinked at the headache behind his eyes. “Wh—what happened?” He asked tentatively. His throat was scratchy.

“Harry,” she said, her voice breaking so horribly Harry wanted to cry himself. It was his fault she was so upset. It was his fault. It always was.

“I-I don’t remember,” he mumbled. He really wanted some water. She must have sensed that. She untangled herself from him and she rubbed her eyes quickly. She stripped herself of her clothes. Harry was so affronted by how comfortable she was to do so. He was so utterly confused. Nothing about this dream made sense. “Am I dreaming?”

She snorted through her tears. “This is not a time to flirt, Harry,” she mumbled.

“M’not,” he pouted in confusion. He wasn’t. He was used to her naked figure. He liked the bra she was wearing. It was pink and contrasted to her skin so beautifully he could have cried. It matched the lace that failed to cover her perfect butt as she yanked open a dresser drawer. She selected a pair of Harry’s sweats and yanked another drawer open to get a shirt. She pulled her hair into a bun atop her head and somehow, even with the smell of vomit assaulting his nose, she was by far the most gorgeous being he'd ever seen.

But he wasn’t flirting. He had seen her before and sure he loved seeing her like this, but he knew instinctively it wasn’t the time.

She grabbed another set of clothes and turned back to him; crouched in front of him; between his knees. She looked at his arms. Raw with claw marks from his own nails. She ran her fingertips over the reddened paths, and she tilted his forearms every which way. Inspecting them. Harry felt utterly exposed.

“I didn’t do that,” he told her. He knew what she was looking for. He wanted to explain that the last time she left he stopped. It wasn’t much but it was something he knew he had to stop. She turned her gaze to his eyes. Her lashes were sparkling with tears, the corners red and her pupils widened in disbelief. He cleared his scratchy throat. “Just...pills,” he said quietly. She nodded silently.

“C’mon,” she sniffled tugging him to a standing position. His stomach protested immediately. “Oh shit,” he said putting a hand to his mouth. She beelined for the small trash can she gifted his room when he moved in and put it under his chin just as he vomited once more. Unfazed again, she rubbed her hand on his back as she guided him to his bathroom.

It was a mess. Towels and clothes piled behind the door barely allowing her to open it. She pushed Harry to sit on the toilet lid. She grouped the clothes and towels in her arm and threw them outside the door. She took stock of the shower; it wasn’t the cleanest shower she’d ever seen but it wasn’t as dirty as she expected. She turned on the water feeling the warmth before she pulled Harry’s shirt over his head. He was freezing and shivering. Goosebumps plagued his body. His head was clearing only slightly. Like he was fogged up from too long of a nap. “Are you going to throw up again?” She asked as she pulled his pants down like a toddler.

He felt completely embarrassed the way she was so...mechanically, near medically taking care of him...it was routine for her. “No.”

She nodded; her eyes blank. “Shower, please,” she pulled the shower curtain back for him to get in. Without another word or another order, she closed the door behind her. Harry swallowed nervously. Terrified she was leaving. But he would rather die than not listen to her.

Again.

So he got in the shower.

When he exited the shower, he realized she must have reentered the bathroom while he was in a daze of warm water easing his aching and shivering body. There was a warm fluffy towel on top of the second set of clothes. His stomach didn’t hurt so much anymore. And the need for water was getting stronger. He wondered where she got the towel from. He hadn’t done laundry in a long while. Harry brushed his teeth to rid himself of the taste of vomit.

She opened the door as Harry tugged the sweats around his hips. She was still just as beautiful as she was when he looked her over in his bedroom. And she held a glass of water in her hand. It made her even more beautiful.

“Go lay down,” she was ordering again.

He wasn’t going to disobey her.

She closed the door behind him as he exited, and he heard the water turn back on. He wished he had her hair stuff, her moisturizer...like when she used to be here all the time. He wanted to make her feel at home. But it didn’t matter because she locked the door anyway. He pressed his ear to the door listening to her soft cries in between the streams of water. He closed his eyes and sighed. He gripped the cup of water tightly aching at the sound of her sadness.

He returned to his bedroom to find it almost totally organized. She was quick. The mess of clothes that hadn’t been washed was gone. The sheets and blankets that he’d been sick on were nowhere to be seen but he could vaguely hear the washer going in the other room. A new set of sheets and blankets were fluffed on his mattress. The smell of apple spice filled his room from the lit candle and the window was still open, but it seemed warm now. Like she brought a warm breeze to replace the cold the filled the room. He was ogling the space when she brushed past him and took the brush off his dresser to yank it through her hair.

“Not s’rough, kitten,” he murmured. She glanced at him. Her anxious expression softening just a bit at his gentle command. He had no right, but he loved her and her gorgeous hair. He didn’t want her head to hurt. She paused her actions for a moment before she pulled more delicately through her damp hair. Once done with her hair, she tugged the covers back and nodded her head at him.

“Get in,” she said firmly.

He swallowed nervously looking at the bed and then her. He couldn’t help himself. He couldn’t take it anymore. Mitch’s words rang through her head. This is it. “Are you leaving?” He croaked. He couldn’t lose her. If he lost her, he wished she didn’t even come to his place tonight. Someone could have found him in a few days.

“No, Harry. M’not,” she said softly. He felt the tension in his chest release knowing she wasn’t going to leave. As soon as she saw he was cemented into the corner of his bed near the wall, she blew out the candle and closed the window so just a crack was left to keep the air flowing. She flicked the light switch and drenched the two of them in darkness.

His eyes didn’t adjust to the complete blackness, so he was a tad startled when she slipped into bed beside him. He didn’t know what to do with his hands. He wanted to hold her, caress her, and cradle her. She saved him again, as she always did. He wanted to kiss her in thanks. Whisper to her that it would never happen again.

Harry didn’t know if he could fall asleep. The adrenaline was still fluttering in his veins. His head still hurt a bit and he ached and shivered. But her hand reached out and rested on his heart. He knew it was beating erratically. Calling out a rhythm that only an eventful night like his could have. “I was dreaming about you,” she whispered. “I always do...and I woke up terrified. So, I called you,” her voice was near silent. Harry had to strain to hear. “You answered... but didn’t say anything. And I just knew...” she shook her head. Harry listened intently trying to piece his night together. “You scared me so fucking bad, Harry Styles...I screamed and screamed through the phone. I was running here. I didn’t even grab my keys,” she whimpered. “I was calling everyone I knew, and I was banging on your door waking everyone in the building up. They probably hate me,” she said. “I had an axe in my hand ready to cut the door down when Mitch came with the key.”

Harry wanted to laugh because that sounded exactly like something she would do for him. But he couldn’t laugh. It wasn’t funny. Poor Mitch. Harry thought.

“Poor Mitch,” she mumbled.

He smirked weakly. Grateful for the dark because he shouldn’t have been smiling. Not about this. Not about her being scared...about Harry’s wellbeing. “M’sorry.”

“Harry,” she whispered. “You have to stop,” she said. “I can’t...live without you. But I can’t live with you like this.”

“I know,” he said simply. He didn’t argue. She was quiet for a few moments.

“I thought you died,” she sniffled.

He reached out, finally. “M’sorry,” he repeated letting his hand cup the side of her face. He rubbed his thumb along her cheek feeling the dampness from her eyes pool onto her skin.

“I don’t want you to be sorry. I want you to do something,” she said harshly. “I thought I lost you.”

He wanted to do something about it too. He couldn’t take when she was distraught. Every single time she was distraught, it was his fault. He imagined her running through the dark streets, screaming and terrified that he’d finally left this earth. It explained the dream vacation. His heavy limbs. He imagined her shouting, grabbing the axe for emergencies outside the apartment door across from the fire extinguisher—ready to get to Harry however she had to. Through his dreamlike state, he knew she was there reviving his broken and sad soul. “I think you would be better off,” he mumbled.

She turned, presumably to face Harry but he still couldn’t see. “Harry,” her voice scolding him again, but it was gentle this time. “I would die if something happened to you,” she said it so with such an obvious tone. As if it was the most apparent thing in the world. “I don’t...I don’t know what else to say.”

“You should really leave me,” he was starting to wallow. It was the same routine. He could feel the dread setting in.

“Harry, baby,” she cooed knowing all the phases of his self-pity. Even when she should have been screaming at him. Leaving him. Certainly not lying in bed beside him. She reached out and put her hands on either side of his face. He wished he could see her, but it felt like she could the way he cupped his face in her hands. “I love you. And I’m never going to stop. So, you have me, regardless of what you do to your body. But I would appreciate it if you would try to keep yourself around so I’m not so sad and miserable all the time worrying about you,” she whispered.

“’Ve never deserved you...still don’t.”

“I don’t care,” she promised. Her lips were closer to his face. Her breath enveloping all of his senses. She was the best high he’d ever had. “I want all of you.”

He felt dizzy to hear her sweet words. She was so fucking lovely. “Why?” He asked.

Her nose bumped into his. She shook her head and sighed. “I just do,” she whispered.

“You’re an idiot.”

“So be it.”

He swallowed. “M’scared.”

“I know. I am too.”

“You love me?”

“With every breath.”

They were silent for a few moments. Just the sound of their breath mixing together. “I might mess up,” his voice was so quiet. She brushed her thumbs below his lashes. He wondered if she could feel the tears working their way out of his eyes.

“I need you to try, Harry."

He pressed his forehead to hers. He closed his eyes; he was finally tired. “I love you,” he whispered.

“I know,” she said softly.

He smirked. “M’so fucking sorry,” he promised.

“I know that, too,” she nodded. “Against my better judgement, I’m so unbelievably in love with you. I can’t lose you. I won’t stand for it.”

“Kitten,” his voice broke again.

“What, baby?”

“Can I kiss you?” He felt strangled by the words. He feared her rejection. He wouldn’t blame her. She could love him and love him and never want to kiss him or touch him ever again. It would make sense. There was surely a limit on the number of times she could save him. A limit on the number of times she wanted to save him.

He felt so low. So broken. Who on earth would want him and his stupid self? His messy apartment and messy head?

“Please, kiss me Harry,” she breathed. Hope bloomed in his chest like nothing he had ever felt before. It was warm and beautiful.

He slotted his lips over hers. He kissed her so deeply she felt it in every crevice of her broken heart. It was patching the holes he left the last time they fought and argued. The last time they were together before tonight. It felt like healing. The vision of Harry: his lifeless curls, his pale face. All faced down in his bed, drooling, his eyes closed as if he was sleeping but looking so...she shook her head and pulled from his lips. She kissed his cheeks shaking her head of the image more, hiding from it. Trying to keep the tears of almost losing her best friend from falling again. “You need to sleep. You’re going to be mean tomorrow,” she pulled from his face carefully before she pressed another kiss to his lips that made all the pain leave his body.

“Yeah,” he sighed thinking about the withdrawal he was about to go through. Again. She kissed his lips again, replacing the bad feelings with more hope and love. “You’ll be here?”

“Don’t know where else I’d be,” she said softly. Sleepily. She ran her fingers up and down his chest. Her legs tangled with his. It was reflexive. A memory of the days before this cold night. It made him warmer. This time was different. He doesn’t know why. But he felt it in every achy and cold blood vessel that was blooming with love for her. His angel.

He brought his hand to her face again, his palm pressed to her cheek. “Think m’gonna love you forever.”

“As long as we have forever.”

“Thank you,” he said finally. “We will,” he promised. “M’sure of it.”

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles writing #harry styles angst #harry styles sad #harry styles au #hurt

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curiositymemes · 1 year

Text

LYRIC SENTENCE STARTERS : EUPHORIA.

a selection of lyrics taken from my personal gender euphoria playlist, specifically focusing on love, validation, and encouragement! feel free to change wording and pronouns and provide context as necessary. do not add to this list.

“he knew it was time, he’d made up his mind.”

“boy, you’d better begin to get those crazy notions right out of your head.”

“nickname, who do you think that you are?”

“pull yourself together, you know you should do better.”

“this could be my last chance.”

“you’re always dreaming.”

“you won’t get very far.”

“don’t you know who you are?”

“honey, spread your wings and fly away.”

“you’re a free man.”

“come on, honey.”

“he left yesterday behind him, you might say he was born again.”

“it keeps changing fast and it don’t last for long.”

“they say that he got crazy once and he tried to touch the sun.”

“his life is full of wonder but his heart still knows some fear.”

“won’t you let me go down in my dreams?”

“ten miles behind me, and ten thousand more to go.”

“maybe you can believe it if it helps you to sleep.”

“singing works just fine for me.”

“i’m alright, nobody worry ‘bout me.”

“can’t you just let it be?”

“do what you like.”

“it’s your life.”

“who you gonna be tonight?”

“who is it really making up your mind?”

“listen to your own heart beating.”

“everybody let me be.”

“i don’t need you to worry for me ‘cause i’m alright.”

“i don’t want you to tell me it’s time to come home.”

“i don’t care what you say anymore, this is my life.”

“i still belong, don’t get me wrong.”

“you can speak your mind, but not on my time.”

“do you ever wonder why i feel i have to hide?”

“others’ perceptions give me panic attacks.”

“i’ll hide in the forest where i can be free.”

“maybe to you it sounds a little strange.”

“maybe i wanna be a cryptid.”

“be who you are.”

“maybe my ideal body is bigfoot’s.”

“so when i feel sad i’ll screech into the night.”

“they think i’m a little strange.”

“maybe my ideal body is mothman’s.”

“when i’m ready, i will fly us out of here.”

“i’ll figure out a way to get us out of here.”

“will everybody please give him a little bit of space?”

“the stars welcome him with open arms.”

“strangely he feels at home in this place.”

“sing me a song, tell me your thoughts.”

“I could listen to you all night long.”

“tell me about the things that you love.”

“the world simply needs more affection.”

“i don’t care about what people think of me.”

“we’ve got so much time to kill and so many things to see.”

“life’s too short to worry about things that we got wrong.”

“you don’t know what it’s like to be nothing at all.”

“it’s nothing i can’t change.”

“like a vision she dances across the porch as the radio plays.”

“hey, that’s me, and i want you only.”

“show a little faith, there’s magic in the night.”

“but hey, you’re alright, and that’s alright with me.”

“roll down the window and let the wind blow back your hair.”

“come take my hand.”

“hey, i know it’s late, we can make it if we run.”

“and i know you’re lonely for words that i ain’t spoken.”

“tonight we’ll be free, all the promises’ll be broken.”

“you know you can’t hold me forever.”

“i didn’t sign up with you.”

“this boy’s too young to be singin’ the blues.”

“i’ve finally decided my future lies beyond the yellow brick road.”

“give him a fire in his heart, give him a light in his eyes.”

“give him a hand that he could lean on and a strength to call his own.”

“he came to turn the pages and to make a brand new start.”

“we’ll try to carry on.”

“what else could i do?”

“i’m so inspired by you.”

“now i know that happiness goes on.”

“the greatest miracle of all is how i need you and how you needed me too.”

“maybe i’ve been hoping too hard but i’ve gone this far and it’s more than i hoped for.”

“i’ll take my chances.”

“now i know the woman that you are.”

“you’re wonderful so far and it’s more than i hoped for.”

“i’m so in love with you, honey.”

“everything is gonna be alright.”

“and now, i smile and face the girl that shares my name.”

“just give yourself some time.”

“that’s just growin’ up.”

“don’t overthink it, boy.”

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aita-blorbos · 7 months

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Aita for killing one of my daughter's traveling companion?

I (Nb He/Him 34) recentlyish got dragged into some multiversal magical girl type stuff with my daughter (Nb 14 They/She) and her half brother (M 17 He/Him). With both of them having all the powers and stuff and me just being here to keep them in line and occasionally borrowing their powers for more difficult/dangerous situations. They also have a few traveling partners who also have powers such as my daughter's childhood friend (M 13 He/They), this weird pink, black, and white cat thing (They/Them god???), and this huge dog creature (She/her ????)

I should also note right now, we kill people, thats part of our job. I try not to let the kids handle that part but things happen, death and murder aint exactly uncommon here. Our job is to get rid of dangerous spirits who attach themselves to the souls of people to feed off their negativity or corrupted joy and sometimes the only the way to get rid of the spirits is to also get rid of the person. Also the kids powers come from these charms we wear, thats how I somewhat share powers with my kids.

During a recent outing to a cyber tech type of world we ran into an alternate version of myself, the only alive one we've ever found. After chatting for sometime we learned that he's an assassin who was hired to kill our target. We decided to work together since our goals somewhat aligned.

After the our confrontation with the target (we killed him btw), the dog creature with us bit the arm off my alternative self in an attempt to bite his head off.

I, in my panic, used my charm to take all of my kids powers (and even my daughter's friend's) and use it to kill the dog creature. It was a long bloodly fight, but I'm 90% sure she's dead now. I'm honestly pretty proud of myself for winning and surviving.

We've since left the cyber world as it started falling apart (plus other stuff) and went back to a world we consider our safe world. Also my other self now traveling with us since his world is gone. We all haven't had too deep of a conversation about what happened as the kids want some space to process but they have expressed they don't blame or hate me for what happened.

However the cat creature has been often telling me that I was horrible for killing the dog creature and that I "ruined that fun story", that I'm "messing with their storylines being still here", and that it's my fault my alternative has no world anymore. I'm gonna be honest I used to be pretty confident that I mostly did the right thing but cuz of the cat thing's constant comments bout all that and... other things... I'm now a bit hesitant to say I was in the right for killing the dog creature, so Aita?

Edit: Yes I'm not completely sure if the dog creature is dead, it's not normal whatsoever so I have no clue if what I did was enough to end it.

Edit two: No I'm not okay with my kids being made to do this stuff especially so young but I have no power over this, I blame the cat thing and kinda the dog thing honestly both are suspicious as hell.

Edit three: Yeah this an oc ask with ocs inspired by Madoka Magica dog aint dead btw

#aita #am i the asshole #unreality #animal death #child endangerment

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tigirl-and-co · 1 year

Text

Hmm-hmm, little unedited snippet I banged out real fast! Sorry if the dialogue word choices sound off, my brain is full of fog and mist today so I’m having trouble remembering how everyone talks!

Anyway, here’s a short scene for Donna in the TARDIS with 12 and Bill! I just love the idea of all of them together, and finally got inspiration! I’m imagining this taking place after an adventure where Bill and Donna meet for the first time, and something happens to get Bill down.

~~~

Donna looked right into the eyes of the young adult who had taken a seat on the console room stairs and gave her the most no-nonsense, completely self-assured expression she could muster up. "Oh, don't you worry, we'll get you a man. Hell, we'll get you one before I get one, if we can."

Bill winced instinctively. "Actually, I'm... not particularly interested in men." She wanted to avert her gaze, but this was her Doctor's TARDIS, and she wouldn't cow, even for one of his old friends. She didn't see the Doctor rolling his eyes.

"Oh thank God, most of them are shite."

Bill couldn't help it- she broke out into a surprised grin. This was the best-case scenario, the one she had been hoping for.

But Donna wasn't finished. "So, girls, then? Or aliens? Kids are into aliens these days, right? Or both! Alien women, like in Star Trek!"

The Doctor was staring very intently at a screen on the main console. He wished he had his sunglasses.

"Oi! Spaceman!" Donna whipped around to face him, and he straightened up and tried to look professional. Bill, who was experiencing whiplash, managed to note he was struggling to contain both amusement and a little bit of fear. Too deep in shock to say anything, Bill instead briefly wondered just how powerful Donna was to inspire that sort of reaction.

"Yes, Donna?" he asked, quirking an infamous eyebrow despite knowing exactly what she was going to ask.

"What planets are out there with people on them that work with humans, romantically?" Donna paused for a moment, looking back over her shoulder at Bill. "Do you want them to work in all the other ways, too...? Yeaaaah, of course you do. You're young and you need fun." She turned back to scrutinize the stone-faced space Scotsman. "Well?"

He took his chance to egg on his old companion. "Donna, why exactly do you think I know anything about romance? You remember how the last bout ended, don't you? Well, I mean now you remember, of course you had forgotten be-" he cut himself off when he took notice of the glower, made more threatening by the low lights of the console room. "Sorry."

She didn't lighten up. "Yes, I do remember that a clone of yourself went off to live a long and happy life with Rose."

The Doctor frowned. "Well-"

"I wasn't finished. You also told me that River -- remember her? -- you said that she turned out to be your wife so obviously you aren't as clueless as you always say you are." She snorted, and Bill found herself wishing she had popcorn. Or chips.

"Donna-"

"And you told me you had kids back on Gallifrey, and your granddaughter fell in love with a human!" Bill almost choked on air at that.

I wonder if his granddaughter's cute...

Donna was winding down. "So don't you tell me that you don't know anything about romance, mister! Even if you were unbelievably ungraceful after kidnapping me from my wedding." She smiled in confident triumph.

Suddenly, a laugh rang out from behind Donna. Bill had finally caught on to what was happening.

"You two are hilarious!" she choked out. "Donna, thanks but no thanks- I'll find a woman on my own." She paused. "I hadn't considered an alien girlfriend before, but I guess it wouldn't hurt to be open-minded." Bill turned to look at the Doctor, who was grinning cheekily. "And you're going to tell me about... whatever she was talking about. I can't believe you ever found the time for romance!"

The Doctor frowned. "Now what makes everybody think-"

Donna seemed to be enjoying cutting him off today. "You're welcome- I'm sure a cute and clever woman like you won't have trouble finding somebody once you're ready to start looking." She walked over to Bill's side and slung her arm over the younger woman's shoulder. "And between you and me, you've got plenty of time."

Two pairs of eyes rolled this time, although only the Scottish pair had something to say. "So, Bill, I take it you don't want to go to the planet of incredibly attractive humanoid aliens, of which all are female?" He smirked. "That's good. I'm an honorary member of the species, but it can still be a bit awkward."

Bill paused, and she could feel Donna's smile, because it was infectious. She grinned even wider. "Well, I guess it couldn't hurt to check out!"

"Oh, that's good to hear, because it looks like they're being invaded and need some help!"

Both girls' grins vanished.

"Wait-"

@cloudbustingss

LMAO TWO YEARS LATE BUT I FINALLY MANAGED TO WRITE SOMETHING FOR THEM

sorry it’s not the greatest, had an idea but brain didn’t want to cooperate

#my writing #fanfiction #doctor who #whoniverse #the doctor #donna noble #bill potts #12 #twelve #twelfth doctor #this one's not good enough to go on ao3 i don't think #sometimes you just gotta crank something out

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sepheroth · 1 month

Note

1, 17, 20

send a number for me to talk about one of the following topics! 1. long threads :

not sure if this means like long as in lengthy replies/ like in detail or long as in on going for a long period of time, or a huge amount of notes. but! either way, as long as the muse allows for it, then i'd give it a go. i dead ass once had someone block me because my response was much more lengthy than theirs, and there like 'it's annoying that you keep writing a book, because im not trying to write one' like. i get that not everyone is gonna be on my same length or inspiration, but wow. like...i want someone to at least tell me to tone it down so they wont be as intimidated, and i will. but sometimes my muse will just not shut up and i love when the muse does that for me.

17. fanon interpretations : like in general or as in sephiroth? that's kinda something i go against. like i forreal see people base sephiroth off an assumption that negatively reflects him as a character. like...people say that sephiroth is obsessed with cloud (in a way that makes it seem soo creepy and gross to me) ...i don't see it that way. i'd be a liar if i said i went through a period that i did not like the ship. i met someone one day and they changed my view about sefikura. i ship it now. but how my version of seph will go bout it is being a resident cloud botherer, and he's also a tifa botherer depending on the person i'm with, and it depends if it's pre nibelheim sephiroth or post nibelheim sephiroth. like...he's a villain, he's supposed to peruse his target and try actively to get rid of them. is that not what he's supposed to be doing? and also how i see it, his hubris is something that prevented him from being able to do that. it's also why he keeps trying to take him out. but sometimes i get the sense he's just having fun with the whole thing because he knows it annoys the hell out of him. lmfao. 20. violent threads : i rarely get to do these/those. like i had an old villain muse who like met a goddess who was responsible for cursing him to be immortal by giving him her heart (spoiler alert, he hates it and wants to die). he's another final fantasy villain, i will say. he met her in her human/mortal form and as soon as he seen her he. went. berserk. and...things got pretty...violent. and before that, he got..slap happy. i don't think im very good at those...but like, if im comfortable with that mun, i will take the time to write them.

#gcldfanged #i kinda rambled there im sorry #but thank you so much #The Mun: OOC Asks

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belethlegwen · 1 year

Text

The Faerie Spell - Chp 4

Chapter One: Click Here Previous Chapter: Click Here Chapter Directory: Click Here Words: 5542 Summary: Gem, Daphne's nicest friend, takes her out for dinner and a hang out, but wants to have some... uncomfortable conversations.

Gem tried. Gemima really did try, and really did care, and I could always tell that about her. She was an incredibly nice and caring person, always, even before all of this happened! She was one of my favourite people to be around because she just always sort of inspired me to be a better person.

Gem was one of those people who was so nice that it always seemed like it just came so naturally to her. Like she could just sense when someone needed help in some way, and she had already thought of a thousand ways to help that person and was doing the best one, always. I realize now that that whole aura was the result of many many years of practice. She had helped so many people with problems so many times, that she was like a chess Grandmaster in a way; she could tell based on what moves you had already made, what moves you were going to make, and what moves she needed to make in order to set that board up exactly how she wanted it to be.

Sitting in a cup-holder of her car that had been stuffed with soft, fleecy fabrics and cotton balls, I was coming to finally understand that she had never seen these moves before. She hadn’t seen any of these pieces before, when it came to me and my problem.

But she was trying. I guess I can’t really… get mad at her about that.

“I figured this would be easier than the purse or the seatbelt again,” Gem’s voice got my attention and I looked up as she continued to drive us to her house. My arms were braced against the sides of the cup holder as much as they could be, trying to stop me from getting slammed into the sides of it whenever we braked, started moving again, or turned. I was straddling-- to the best of my ability-- the amplifying stone AND the protection stone at the same time to try and make the ride a little bit less… hazardous, and to help her hear me while she had to keep her eyes on the road.

“It’s uh…” I started, shuddering at the thought of the seatbelt and how awful that experiment had been, and the purse hadn’t been awful but at the time I did feel exceptionally removed from all of the conversation going on, like I had been kind of forgotten about in there. That was the second time this had happened though, so… I imagine it would be better by now? Or I hope? Still though, I didn’t want to discourage her from trying. She was the only one who really seemed to consider me in these equations. “It’s better than the seatbelt, for sure,” I offered as cheerfully as I could manage. If it weren’t a cup holder and it weren’t a moving vehicle, this would actually be a nice change from the doll furniture.

“Oh, that’s good,” she replied warmly, sounding relieved. Her eyes dropped down just a second to smile at me before I wound up flopping forward as we braked at another red light. Gem lived clear on the other side of town from me now, and the city was a shit place to drive during rush hour.

There was another long pause. Normally Gem gabbed while she was driving like it was the only way she knew how to exhale, but something had been on her mind ever since she came to get me from the apartment, and this whole adventure had been awkward as all hell. I knew I was to blame for it. Gem hated anyone fighting, and that’s all I had managed to do with damn near everyone, in front of her, the entire day. If I were to put money down, I imagine the hesitating was due to her fighting in her head over whether she needed to focus on making me feel better and helping me through this stupid bout of curse-itis, or whether she needed to make sure I ‘understand the power of my words when dealing with interpersonal matters’ or something.

“Sooo…” she started on a drawl, me trying to listen to her while avoiding motion sickness as best as I could in the rock-tumbler of a seat I was in. “I know… I know things were hard for you this morning. I know things are tense at the apartment with Sheri right now…”

Oh boy, here it comes.

“I just… I wanted to apologize for how our call went earlier. I know it hurts to think we’re talking behind your back, but I want to assure you that’s not the case. Sheri just messaged me to let me know that you were in a bad spot, and she did tell me you two had been fighting when it happened.”

I stared straight ahead. Losing my bet aside, Gem was lying to me.

Cal had told me about their group chat. Like, I know I can’t say much-- I have a group chat with all of them that Sheri isn’t in that I’m sure she also knows about based on her comments this morning about me bitching about her to Cal or whoever she thinks I’m bitching about her to, but of all the people I really expected to just… lie to me in all of this, Gem wasn’t it.

“I’ve been… I’ve been a little worried, about your situation in the apartment, if I can be honest,” she said quietly, turning the blinker on and slowing down again. My arms were feeling exhausted from trying to hold me up and away and stopping me from bouncing around the center console like ice in a martini shaker. It was obvious she was waiting for me to reply as I caught her glancing down at me in my periphery, but I really didn’t know how to process any of what was happening.

Like yeah, ok, we started the group chat without Sheri in it so that I had a safe place to vent and ask for help with how to deal with her because we had always kind of been butting heads a bit, and then this shit happened, and yeah I kind of needed a place where I could go to like… have some other eyes but mine on her. Gem encouraged that, Gem said it was good and healthy and a safe space for that kind of thing.

…But shit, did they already have a group chat without me going? I mean, it would make sense that Gem and Sheri would talk about me in DMs and stuff when Sheri needed to, they were the ones who were closer friends before me and Sheri became roomies, but… Sheri and Cal don’t get along. They never really have. Mak gets along with everyone the same, kinda? I’ve never gotten a good read on Mak… fuck, did Mak secretly hate me? I mean, we don’t talk a lot, and maybe he talks to everyone else more-- he used to be roomies with Cal, so he’d invite Cal into a group chat just to shit talk me and stuff, and that would make sense and--

“I didn’t mean to upset you or anything…” Gem’s voice was soft, and I shook myself out of my worry spiral to glance up at her. Somewhere in the middle of all of this we had parked, presumably at her apartment building, and her eyes were the size of two moons as they peered down at me over an extremely concerned expression. “I just… I don’t think that the situation in your apartment is great for you, like this… and if you’d be ok with it, I mean-- I’ve got lots of space at my place. I have a few things in your scale, I don’t know if they’re like… any better than what you have but…”

Oh god.

Gem was asking me to… crash at her place? Move in with her? I hadn’t been paying attention, and I had no idea if I had missed something in the middle here.

“I, uh…” I drawled, my arms lowering and immediately making me flinch from how sore they were. “I mean… it’s my apartment,” I started. “I was there first. I don’t… I feel comfortable there, and--”

“Shhhh,” Gem hushed me from above and I grimaced. “I know, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean like… it’s not a forever thing and I don’t want you to feel pressured. I guess I just wanted you to know that if things are really as bad over there as they seem, especially like… today, that my door is always open, ok?”

She was being nice. I know she was being nice.

But… now I had to wonder. Was this even her idea? Who was she being nice to, right now? Did Sheri bitch about me in their secret group chat so much that Gem thought it’d be best to get me out of Sheri’s way? Let Sheri have some time away from ‘taking care of me all the time’? My eyes dropped to the stones by my feet and I moved a little to start picking them up. Gem’s hand moved in automatically for me to lay them on, ready to take them. “Thanks, Gem,” I managed to get out after swallowing every weird doubt and concern I had. I was so tired. Why even keep fighting, at this point? “I’ll keep it in mind, for sure.”

Gem’s smile was in her voice, and it was one of the few moments I wish I could shrink smaller. So small no one could even see me. “Alright. You ready to go get some food, girlfriend?”

Cal had forbidden me from telling anyone about their secret visit, the weed, or the twinkies, so I just nodded, plastering a smile on my face as I grabbed onto her offered fingers. “Yeah, that sounds great.”

Gem, like everyone else, had her own particular way of picking me up. It seemed to have fifty different steps involved, but it was gentle and honestly… it was nice to have someone take their time with me after everything else that had happened already today. She kind of moved me back and forth between her two hands to get me up and out of the cup holder until I was seated in her palm, her hand cupped like a bowl, and then she’d place her free on me whenever she didn’t need it for anything, covering most of me and just keeping me there.

It was… a little suffocating, especially because she made a point to basically press her hands to her chest as well. I guess she did it for stability, or to keep me close enough she could hear me in case I wanted something. We had never talked about it, mostly because Gem did all of the talking, but we were still in this weird, awkward quiet spell again.

“What were you, uh, thinking for food?” I asked as we traveled to her apartment. I shuddered in her hands as the elevator started and stopped, just glad we weren’t running into anyone. Gem knew I wasn’t too keen on being seen like this after the Witch kicked me to the curb, and her reaction was always to just suddenly cover me with both hands and almost force me into a ball. It couldn’t be subtle, not for anyone looking at her, but I guess Gem was just… nice enough? Weird enough? To get away with looking like she was smuggling a small bird around.

“I prepped veggies earlier to make a stir-fry,” she said happily over me, the sound of her voice reverberating against me with her hands pressed up against her chest like they were. God it was unsettling the first few times it happened whenever we wound up like this. “I was thinking if nothing else, the rice and sauce should be ok if I can’t get the veggies small enough for you?”

“The rice and the sauce would be perfect,” I lied.

I didn’t have plates and cutlery at my size. We honestly hadn’t figured anything like that out yet. I had seen a bit online when I was shopping for the furniture but I just… refused to get any. That seemed like I was giving up; like I was accepting this, somehow, and I wasn’t ready for that, I guess. I normally made do by just… eating dry foods or things that were easier to handle. Something swimming in sauce, when I would basically be using my bare hands, in literally just my pajamas that I’d be stuck in for I have no idea how long… not ideal.

But Gem was happy, and I was just so fucking tired of disappointing people or upsetting people or arguing with people today. So, why the hell not let her have this?

Turns out that plates and cutlery were uh… not going to be a problem, though.

I remember when the door opened and I immediately felt a bit creeped out. I knew that Gem had collected dollhouses and stuff, she had been the one to turn me onto those miniatures kits I kinda wanted to get into before it became, y’know, my life. She had ordered me the ‘beach house bungalo’ kit after the Witch refused to break my curse and this looked like it was going to be a more long-term problem.

But to wander in and see just… doll-furniture, set up everywhere… It was upsetting and I couldn’t quite pin down why. Like, should I have been upset about this? She had asked earlier in the day if I wanted her to come get me and I didn’t say no, it’s not totally out-there to assume she would’ve been expecting me to drop by at some point while this was happening it just--

“Again, no pressure,” she said as her hands suddenly pushed away from her body and we went on the agonizingly slow-and-steady descent to the dining room table that was just around the corner from her entrance hall, “but I just… I feel like it would be more comfortable here, for you? At least better than back home until Sheri calms down a bit and you two can relax a bit more around each other.”

“I don’t see why Sheridan can’t relax,” I snapped as she finally lifted the ‘safety hand’ off the top of me and let me stand. “It’s not like I’m hard to avoid while I’m down here, and aside from getting set up with food I don’t need anyone’s help.”

Gem sighed as she stood back up and started to take off her coat and things. She had forgotten to give me back my stones. “You do need help when you’re down there, traveling around the house isn’t exactly easy for someone your size and--”

“That’s why I bought the stairs and ladders, actually,” I called as I approached the chair and table set-up she’d presumably put out for me on one of the placemats. She had set up two chairs with it but only one place-setting. I picked up a tiny fork and grimaced; it was plastic, and didn’t feel extremely sturdy even at my own size, but I guess it was better than nothing. “I even gave myself a way to get in and out of the cupboard I keep my snacks in, so I can just--”

“That’s not safe,” Gem’s voice shot back softly but firmly as she hung her coat on the back of one of the chairs and went back to the porch to kick off her shoes into the boot tray. She was literally too far away to argue with, especially with my amplifying stone somewhere in her pocket, still. “What if you got trapped in there? No one would know where to find you.”

I kind of wanted to kick over this stupid little table. I knew for certain that I could get out of the cupboard, I had done all the testing myself when this had happened while Sheridan was at work; it was one of the times I was lucky enough to have my phone on me. None of them had even known it had happened until hours into it when I felt I had no choice but to let someone know. I was preparing to argue as she made her way back, but she detoured into the kitchen instead and just kept shouting to me.

I hated the way people shouting sounded, even from a distance. There was a weird rattle and strain in their voices that you don’t really notice when you’re normal that comes through when you’re this pathetically small, and no matter how much I tell them I can hear them even if they talk at a regular volume, they either forget or just never listen in the first place.

I had stopped reminding them when I realized that they were stepping into other rooms to ‘discuss’ me when this happened. Most of the time they were just worrying, and trying to figure out ways to help me out without upsetting me more, but still… I just wish I could be part of those conversations.

“Sheri also doesn’t like the stairs and ladders,” Gem was continuing from the kitchen, “she thinks they’re in the way.”

“What are they in the way of, vacuuming?” I muttered, huffing as I plopped into one of the dining chairs and trying to find a position that was comfortable. It was unsanded, so my pajamas kept getting stuck a bit on the pressboard fibers.

“I don’t think they’re actually in the way, I think she might just be worried about you maybe getting under foot when she’s moving around the house and doesn’t want to hurt you.”

Was this another lie? Was she trying to cover for Sheri or just trying to make me feel better, or both? My arms wrapped around myself as I heard Gem get started on cooking. She was probably going to be in the kitchen for a while, and unsurprisingly all of her preparations for my visit didn’t involve letting me access the floor or anything else.

“Maybe it’d be a good idea to put them away once you're normal again. I’m sure if you say you’re doing it out of respect for her, she’d be willing to put them back for you when this happened.”

Fat fucking chance. I have to go into her room once a week to clear out the soda cans before black mold starts to form, the woman was never going to take any kind of initiative to carefully put my actually pretty expensive stairs and ladders back around the house unless I asked, and then I’m sure it would just turn into more bitching about how I’m always on her case.

“Are you listening?” Gem asked with concern as she leaned her head out through the weird kitchen-window situation that all of the apartments from this era came with. I cupped my hands around my mouth and then did a large gesture with one arm, pretending to be shouting. I had learned pretty early that it was easier on my throat to fake it until they got the point in moments like this. “Oh, shoot… right.”

Gem muttered apologies as she scurried out of the kitchen with the stones in hand, and I futilely tried to point at the blue one while she tried to remember which was which. “TURQUOISE,” I shouted up at her when it was obvious she wasn’t going to bring them remotely near me until she had solved this puzzle on her own, and she almost jumped at the sound.

“You don’t need to yell,” she reprimanded me while laying the stones on the table and pushing the blue one closer to me with a finger. God, she was like my mother. “Come on, we’ll have this conversation while I cook.”

Her hands landed in the shape of a boat next to me as I walked over and put my bare foot on the stone. “I’m fine to talk from here now, actually, so--”

“Daph,” she said. Again: way too much like my mother. “I’d like to have this conversation with you, I think it’s important that you hear me out and we talk through--”

“I can do that fine from here now, really,” I said firmly, crossing my arms as I looked up at her. I needed to remind myself to see a chiropractor when I was finally back to normal again, or a massage therapist. Something for my aching neck, anyway. Speaking of setting reminders, actually; “Could I have my phone back, too, please? I want to set some notes for myself, for when this is done.”

Gem left her hands on the table and just stared at me with an unamused expression. “I’ll let you have your phone in the kitchen. C’mon, the pan’s almost heated and I don’t want the oil to start smoking.”

Just. Like. My mother.

This is why I stopped going home for Christmas.

I sighed, making sure it was audible with the enchantment before I took my foot off of the stone and hefted it into my arms. At my current height it was the same size as a corgi, so not the easiest thing to lug around, but it at least didn’t weigh anymore than like, fifteen pounds or something by my guess. The crew always said I looked kind of like an ant the way I could lug things around at my size. Kind of hated that comparison, but anyway… Gem tipped one of her hands down for me to walk onto and we did the slightly-awkward shuffling as she insisted on doing this boat-carry. I refused to look up at her face any more, for one: because my neck hurt, and for two: I didn’t want to see that ‘proud’-- and kinda condescending-- smile she made when someone made a ‘hard but important choice for themselves’.

“I’m fine on the little table behind you,” I tried to direct her as she seemed to be lining up to put me on the counter right next to the stove-top.

“I want to be able to look at you while we have a conversation,” she said, her hands still slowly lowering, undeterred. She seemed to be fine with not looking at me while we were ‘having a conversation’ as she yelled at me from here earlier, but I didn’t want to bring it up.

“Can I go up in one of the cupboards, then? It’d keep me more at eye-level, my neck is starting to--”

“That’s a bit high for you, isn’t it?” She asked, jostling me just a little with a sudden stop as she looked up at the wall-mounted cupboards and frowned in thought.

“I’m not going to be trying to get down without your help,” I said, trying to sound as neutral as I could manage. If I got annoyed, I imagine this probably wouldn’t go anywhere I wanted to. I felt her hands almost start to lower again and pulled out the last card. “It’d keep me out of the hot-oil splash zone.”

Gem’s hands redirected so quickly I felt myself sink deeper into her palms and my stomach lurched. I took a glance at her face as she raised me up almost level with it and saw that she seemed almost embarrassed she hadn’t thought of that. There was some shuffling as she carefully-- almost painfully slowly-- tipped me into one palm and then put me in the cupboard. I hopped off quickly with my stone under one arm and turned around to help guide my phone in, but she had already turned to the pan below.

“Anyway,” she started, and it became obvious I’d be waiting at least a bit more on the phone, “I just think there should be a bit more compromise for what the living situation is back at your apartment right now to keep everyone happy.”

“Gem, I do literally all of the cleaning.” Maybe I shouldn’t have been so blunt about it, but I was kind of done with this entire day, and this whole entire situation. The past two months had been hell and there was basically no end in sight. Gem’s mouth opened to argue and I cut her off, sitting down on the stack of “small” plates next to me. “I’m not kidding, Gem. I do her laundry-- which I know she’s been bitching about because this has happened twice now before I was able to get laundry done and she always waits until the end of the week to bring me any. I do the floors, I do the counters and the bathroom. I don’t know if she realizes you can unload a dishwasher almost the exact same as you load it, but loading the dishwasher and sometimes remembering to run it is the only stuff she does.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” Gem said, her eyes jumping up to look at me. “She feels under appreciated, and it’s causing her a lot of stress, especially with how she’s been--”

“Been what, exactly?” I asked, crossing my legs and leaning back. It was actually kind of nice to be eye-level with someone; at the very least, Gem’s expression seemed like she was taking me more seriously up here.

“Well,” my gigantic friend drawled, her eyes dropping back to the pan as she dumped more veggies in. The noise was irritating as all hell at this size, and at this close, but the cupboard did an ok-enough job of drowning out the worst of it, I suppose. “She has to be the one to drive to the grocery store and pick things up now, and when you need to go anywhere, she’s always on call to drive you--”

“Groceries, another thing I was doing completely by myself before this all happened,” I shot back. “She’s had to do them two times since this all happened and both of those times she just tagged along as a babysitter for me. The other times I’ve gone, I had Cal or you with me, remember?”

“I’m trying to have a conversation with you,” Gem grumbled, shooting me a look as she started reaching for her spices and sauces. “The point is that she’s having to do more than she was used to, and it’s been hard for her to adjust.”

“Gem.”

I watched her sigh and pretend she didn’t hear me as she stirred everything. I had to admit, it at least all smelled really good.

“Gem,” I repeated, a bit louder.

“I know this is a harder adjustment for you,” she said defeatedly after a minute, shooting me another look, “but I’m just trying to find something that makes everyone happy!”

“That’s not going to happen, Gemmie,” I said, legitimately starting to feel sorry for her. Yeah, she was being stupid about this, but it was the kind of stupid that came from being too nice to actually think about something. “This whole thing fucking sucks. I hate this, and--”

“Hate is a strong word.”

“I hate this,” I reiterated, staring at her. “I hate being this small. I hate how loud it is, I hate how uncomfortable it is. I hate how hard it is to do anything.” I was on a roll, I didn’t even care whether or not she was listening as her eyes bounced between me and the pan. I just wanted to get it off my chest. “I hate getting grabbed and pinched without being asked, I hate that I can’t do things without people feeling like they need to interject, even when I specifically tell them not to. I hate that no one understands what this is like.”

“You’re upset,” she said firmly, dismissively, as she cranked the stove off and did a quick taste test. “I’m not saying it isn’t hard for you, I know it’s got to be very hard, but you’re blowing this all out of proportion because you’ve had a bad day.”

“They’re all bad days now,” I sighed, getting frustrated again, “that’s what no one seems to--”

“You’re normal most of the time!” She shot back, aggressively bright-siding me. “Those are good days!”

“They aren’t, though,” I said, standing up off of the plates and walking toward the edge of the cupboard, stone in my hands. “That’s what nobody seems to care about! I can’t go anywhere on my own, and I’m living in constant fe--”

“You can’t go anywhere alone because of this!”

Gem’s voice was sharper than I think I’ve ever heard it before; her cheeks were flushed and she seemed mad-- the pointing of the massive, sauce-and-veggie covered wooden spoon didn’t really soften the mood either. I stumbled backwards a bit as she railed on, looking back down, aggravated, at the food below. “I don’t understand how someone who’s already almost had to go to the hospital because of birds can just… delude themselves into thinking this isn’t extremely dangerous.”

“Girlfriend, I love you,” she continued, simmering down like the stirfry while shaking her head, “but your attitude really sucks. I don’t know what we need to do to get it through to you that we’re just trying to keep you safe, and just helping you through this. I know you didn’t ask for this, but neither did anyone else, and I really think you should appreciate at least Sheridan more, if not everyone else, for what you’re making them go through, even though-- yes-- your thing is still hard, despite all the work we’re doing to make it easier on you.”

You’re not making it easier, though, I wanted to argue. A part of me was red hot and ready to melt through straight to the floor, wanting to just scream that nothing was easier when I was terrified every day of my normal life that I’d somehow have to be this again; wanting to scream that nothing was easier when I was constantly being grabbed and dropped and moved places against my will when I was perfectly fine doing those things on my own.

I wanted to argue my point that I never said it wasn’t dangerous, that was my point! That I can’t go anywhere or do anything because of this! And somehow that got turned on me?!

But for all the utterly explosive rage I knew was in me, somewhere, there was a massive blast-resistant door that just said ‘she’s right’.

She’s right: None of them asked for this.

She’s right: It could be so much worse than this.

She’s right: None of them have to do anything, so I should be glad they’re doing something.

Gem started to get that sad, apologetic look all over her again, and her guilt just made me feel more guilty as she went to the rice cooker and started plating dinner. I sulked in the cupboard, hugging my stupid corgi-sized rock to myself as my rage kept trying to counter all of those blast-resistant points.

She’s right, but: It’s just a decent thing to do to help a friend in need. It’s what I would do for them.

She’s right, but: Just because it could be worse doesn’t automatically make this better, somehow.

She’s right, but: That something probably shouldn’t hurt or humiliate or upset me so god damn much.

“Here.” Her voice was soft again, and the hurt parts of me were craving it; desperately wanting to latch onto that comfort. She was good at that. I knew she was good at that. “Sorry I forgot to give it to you sooner. Give me a minute to cut this up smaller and we’ll go eat, ok girly?”

I nodded as she slipped the phone in, noticing a little too late as she let it go, leaning it against the back of the cupboard that it was her phone, not mine; we had the exact same phone, and similar colored cases.

I was about to give her the heads up, when a notification flashed on her screen; a message from Cal, in that private group chat they had told me about.

A group chat named: Problem Solvers

Guess that’s all I really am, in the end.

I swiped to clear the notification and waited for the screen to go back to black, and tried to keep myself level.

“Hey, uh, this is your phone,” I said, and the look of vague panic that came over her for even a second really just kind of set all of my doubts and worries in stone.

“Oh,” she said, reaching in and hauling it out, swapping it with mine quickly. I punched in my lockscreen code and pretended not to notice her immediately checking the notifications before she shoved it back in her pocket. “Sorry about that, I always forget how similar they are.”

“Me too,” I said, and started slowly typing ‘massage’ into the reminder widget.

‘Break curse’ was already there.

I swallowed down a lot of bile and shame, and erased it. Slowly, I replaced it with: ‘Solve everyone’s problem’.

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

Next Chapter: Click Here

#This poor girl #Daphne needs a breath of fresh air I think #Daphne and the No Good Very Bad Day indeed #Friends THINKING they're good people #and friends ACTUALLY BEING good people #are two different things #but it's super hard to see that when you're deep in there #and kinda hard to go hit up social clubs when you're walking birdfood #g/t #giant/tiny #giant tiny #g/t author #g/t writing #gtauthor #Daphne's Curse #The Faerie Spell

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sunshinebunnie · 1 year

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Hi! Regarding the Director’s Cut asks, I may not be doing it right but I’m curious…

What inspired you to write Prairie Doll? Such a unique AU, I would love to hear more about your research process. ❤️

*Squealing* Thank you so much for the ask, Jess!!! (Sorry in advance because I’m totally gonna nerd out. lol) So, given Fez’s interest in Little House on the Prairie and being all ‘bout that farm life as his long term plan, it got me thinking. One of my two majors in college was History, and I had a subconcentration in U.S. History circa the Civil War/Reconstruction era. (I’ve been fascinated with this period of US History for a loooooooooooong time. lol) Anyways, it got me thinking of what would Fez’s life look like during this era. Although people were going out to California during this time, because the Transcontinental railroad hadn’t been completed yet, I hesitated to have Lexi try to follow Cassie out to California because if she’d lost contact with her, it would be highly unrealistic that Lexi going after her would be successful, and I’ve always known I’m going to reunite the Howard sisters in my story (It’s coming! I SWEAR!!!).

Given those 2 constraints, I tried to think of somewhere in the US that would be relatively far from where Lexi & Cassie started (which would make a little more sense why Cassie was responding to a mail order bride advertisement), while having enough going on that I could introduce the other characters in a way that made sense without trying to retcon entire arcs/storylines, but still being a little chaotic in a way that a state/city that was established for 100-200 years at this point in history likely wouldn’t be. I also didn’t want to feel duty bound to really dive into Reconstruction politics/attitudes by setting the story in the post-Civil War South, not to mention, I just didn’t get the vibe that Fez would’ve fought for the Confederacy. The other thing that I really enjoy about it (although it’s definitely been challenging at times) is that it’s such a fun era of history to think about how would things that we don’t necessarily think about play out in this world.

For instance, Ash’s awkward clothing sitch. Like, for the most part (certainly in canon Euphoria), if Ash started having a growth spurt or he had clothes he didn’t like, what have you, he or Fez could just go to the store or order something on Amazon or whatever. They have the means—both actually and economically—to get him clothes he likes and that fit. The whole idea that people would give him shit for not having clothes that he doesn’t look awkward in is a little crazy. But, transport him to the late 1860s/early 1870s? Yeah, now it’s a little less realistic (even for merchants with a little bit of money) to think he either (a) has some huge selection of clothing to pick from or (b) it would be easy for him to just get/find/buy clothes that are the right size. I mean, commercial clothing production really was just not as much of a thing back then, and clothes were still fairly expensive. It wouldn’t be uncommon to expect multiple members of the family to wear the same clothes, but add in the fact that they’re not living with Kitty full time and there’s no other wife/female relative who would be expected to take care of family tailoring for them, yeah, Ash more than likely would get stuck not only wearing Fez’s hand-me-downs but wearing them even though they don’t fit and he looks ridiculous doing so. But those kinds of things are great for the story! Because then it makes it easy/easier to figure out how to introduce the characters into each other lives and have those sub-conflicts (What does A need from B?) that help drive the story forward and develop the characters within the larger context of the story I’m trying to tell.

Anyways, I hope you like this BTS take on Prairie Doll!! Thank you so so so much for letting me nerd out and talk about my story/writing thoughts!!! 🥰💗🥰💗🥰💗

#the nicest people #sunshinebunnie psa #Prairie Doll Director's Cut

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boygiwrites · 7 months

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Harley D. Dixon 23

An amazing edit inspired by this story! (Cred to Cora_Line99) Harley D. Dixon's Pinterest Board! Harley D. Dixon's Playlist!

📖Chapter List.

Author's Note.

Warning for strong themes of suicide in this chapter because of Beth, and well, everything else.

Herschel left the farm all by himself while we was out.

As the sun sets behind the porch railing, Lori explains to Rick and Glenn that Beth's in shock — the thing I was in this morning. She tries to mutter it under her beath, but I hear just fine that she tried to kill herself by slicing her wrists up. Different to how Momma did it, but I know just about every way there is, and that's one of 'em. If I were Beth, I would'a just jumped out the window. Prolly would'a worked, but maybe she didn't want it to. Lori and Patricia found her just in time to save her. She's laid up in bed now, apparently still staring at the wall.

Rick keeps glancing at me throughout the whole conversation. I don't know why he's doin' it, but I wish he'd cut it out.

Herschel told us today he'd learnt what grit was, but I guess he ain't learned enough to deal with his daughter wantin' to die, 'cause he hopped in his truck and took a trip to town to get away from it all. Maggie begs the two of 'em to go bring him back, and they agree.

"You got any guesses where he might'a gone?" Rick asks, putting his hat back on. Always savin' people. "Parks, stores, houses?"

"Hatlin's." She answers unhappily. "Bar on main street. He practically lived there in his drinking days. If he's gone anywhere, it's there."

I can't imagine Herschel in a bar. My Daddy and Uncle Merle used to rot away in bars when they was angry or sad, but that was them.

Rick must be thinking the same thing. "I didn't take Herschel for a drinker."

"He gave it up the day I was born." She half-smiles. "Didn't even allow liquor in the house... But not anymore, I guess."

"I've seen the place." Glenn assures her, holding her shoulder and turning to Rick. "I can drive us there."

"Okay." Before they turn to leave, he murmurs to Lori, "Does Daryl know 'bout Beth yet?"

She shakes her head and glances at me, too.

He warns her, "Well, you're gonna want to. Harley's been havin' a tough go of it and I ain't sure how this is... gonna affect her."

She gives a look of understanding. "I'll go talk to him now."

When he comes down the steps, he crouches in front of me. He's got his Dad-face on, the one that's all nice and reassuring.

"Hey, you did good today." He tells me. "How 'boutchu go find Carl and read some comic books together or something for a while?"

"Alright." I lilt, watching him gently clap me on my shoulder before following Glenn down the path toward the cars.

But as soon as they're gone, I don't go find Carl. I take myself around the side of the house and slouch between two old barrels in the grass, hiding from everyone. I've gotten real good at swallowing down the need to cry, so that's what I do. At some point, the darn ringing returns.

I wish some little animal would cross paths with me, so I could take my knife out and stab it dead. That'd make me feel better.

Merle would smack me if he saw me like this. Don't cry, Harley. Don't cry. Been a long, long day, but you don't gotta cry.

The sun soon disappears under the earth.

"Sh, sh, sh. Baby, it's okay." The night is quiet, but our little tent is filled with my pent-up sobs. "It's okay."

I wish I could go to sleep like everyone else, but I can't. The day's finally caught up with me. Rick and Glenn still haven't returned, but the farm's been a mess without 'em all the same. Dad's been watching me like a hawk since Lori spoke with him, and dinner was spent in silence, and I been trying not to cry for hours. He keeps crooning the same thing to me over and over. It's okay. I hear that stupid lie every time things aren't okay. It don't get any more okay-er no matter how hard I bawl or scream into his shoulder, or wish with all my heart and all my body, right down to my toes, that I weren't such a little wuss. I wish Sophia was alive. I wish Shane made it to Fort Benning.

Seems I'm always hurting. If anyone asked me what I did best, I'd say this. Sometimes feels like all I was made for.

I did good faking my way through the day, but as soon as I laid my head down to go to sleep and realized that I couldn't no more 'cause of my ear, I finally broke. Can't shoot, can't hear, can't sleep. Everything, even the way I curl up at night, been stripped from me.

"It's not okay," I moan, hating that when I close my eyes, I can still see the things I don't wanna. "S'all wrong. It hurts."

"I know it does, chicken. But I'm 'ere. I'm always here." He murmurs into my hair, holding me even tighter to his chest. "Just get it all out."

I wanna tell him I can't, it don't work that way. If you could cry yer sadness out, I would'a lost all mine by now. But he already knows. Just like me, he's made up of sadness. Most people say we're alike 'cause our matching scowls, our little moles. But more than anythin', it's that.

I don't think I've ever been this type of angry before. There's just nowhere to put it. There's no-one to blame. It's just inside me. And I think it'll be there forever, like my bones are. There's no use being sour at Rick or Dad for killin' Shane. You can't get mad at people when there's no right or wrong to it, when they was just doin' what needed to be done. Shane was crazy, we've always said it. He done so many things he shouldn't have. No, I ain't mad at them for that. Or at Glenn, or T, or Andrea for helping 'em. Not at the bullet that shot my ear off, not at the Greenes' God for takin' all my friends away. I'm just angry at being alive.

"He said it was gonna be d-different this time." He said a whole bunch'a things, but that one I remember. "Daddy, I want it t'be different."

"It will be, baby. It will. I'mma keep you safe with everythin' I got, okay?" At least that one's not a lie. "You know that."

"But I'on care about me." I pull back, my fingers twisted in his tank top. "It's everyone else that's dead. It's Shane and Sophia a-and Momma and Merle and Morales and prolly Meemaw and Kyle and my cousins. I'm sick of it! Ain't no point in movin' on if people gonna keep dyin'!"

"Don't talk like that, Harley Dixon." He gently scolds, brows twitching into a frown. "Don'tchu ever. There is a point."

Well, I don't get it no more. "I ca-an't even sleep properly, Dad."

"Well, let's just try again. You can lay on yer other side." He offers. "Dad'll read you another story, huh? Or you want me to sing again?"

"No." I croak miserably. I don't want a story. I don't even want a song. "Even if I go to sleep, t-that's ruined, too. I get nightmares. And when I wake up, it's the same thing all over again. Eatin' scraps and cryin' and takin' ringing meds just for somethin' else bad to happen."

"That's the way life is, Harley." He tells me, a little stricter this time. "I can't change it any more than you can. People die—"

"People mourn," I quote him with a roll of my wet eyes, "Life moves on. I heard."

"Stop it." He don't like that I mocked him, not one bit. Not when it comes to this. "It's true. We move on. We keep livin'."

"Well, maybe I don't wanna. Maybe I'm done."

Herschel says I got a thing called grit. Dad says I'm his brave girl. Carl thinks I'm some sorta badass, but really I'm just a nasty, broken little thing called Harley Dixon. I don't wanna keep living if living's full of death. Maybe it's better the other way. Beth thinks so. Momma sure did, too. I never got to ask her if it worked out like she wanted and got all her sadness taken away, but I like to think it did. I like to think there's no bad things where she is, only good and happy things. She ain't watched Shane die. She ain't stood at Sophia's grave. She ain't hurtin'.

"Little girl," Dad's voice is thin and shaky like a whisper, but also very, very, very angry. "I know you ain't just said that."

I stare right back at him through my tears without a word, 'cause I did say that. Not to hurt him, but because it's the truth.

He slowly starts shaking his head. "Nah, I ain't raised you this way. I ain't raised a girl that gives up."

My wobbly frown deepens. "So that's what Momma was, then? She was weak?"

"Yes. Weak an' stupid." He says unapologetically. "And I won't have you talkin' like her. Over my dead body, girl, I won't have it."

"And how's that?" I challenge him. "You gonna make Sophia come back? You gonna fix my ear? You gonna make Shane—?"

"Weren't me that did that, Harley. Weren't Rick, weren't nobody but himse—"

"—Come back? You gonna kiss it all better and sing a song?" I taunt, shouting in his face, "They're all dead!"

"I know they are." He argues, taking a moment to suck in a breath. "I'm sorry I ain't find Sophia. I'm sorry 'boutcher ear. I'm sorry you're hurtin' and I can't do nothin' about it, but this type'a talk ain't what's gonna help you, Harley. It's bein' strong. You gotta be stronger."

"But I ain't," I tell him, and the tears are back now, streaming down my face, 'cause I'm right. I ain't strong. "I'm just nothin'."

"You're my little girl, is whatchu are." He says sternly, voice cracking. "I love you more'un anythin'. How you think hearin' that makes me feel?"

Probably makes him see the little traces of Momma on my face. Makes him feel like he's failing the same woman twice.

But I'm just so tired, and I just don't care. "I'on care how it makes you feel, Daddy. I'on care 'bout nothin' anymore."

Being empty must be worse than being full of somethin' like anger, 'cause this is the thing that really gets to him. Under his pair of twisted brows, his sharp eyes start to well up, his mouth curls into a sneer. The crickets outside chirp happily either way, dutifully filling the silence that comes. For the first time, I think my Dad is wrong about something. There is no point in moving on. Bein' strong, that's a waste. Shane said we deserve for things to go differently, go better in some way that ain't so cruel, but it didn't. It won't.

"You're fuckin' scarin' me, Harley." He utters thinly. "You ain't never talked like this."

I know. I ain't never stayed down after a hit, but I been strong for so long, I think it's just ran out.

I don't answer him. Instead I confess quietly, "I think I wanna go sleep in somebody else's tent tonight, Dad."

I need out this stuffy tent. If I could sleep alone in a hole somewhere, I would. I'm done arguing. And he's done, too. He wordlessly slides me off his lap and helps me gather my bedding, trying his best not to tear up more than he already is, muttering to himself, swiping at his eyes. He leads me back to main camp, where all the lamps are shut off and the fire pits are smoking. The night air cools my hot, red cheeks.

He taps his knuckles onto a crate just outside the Grimes' tent, and before he even steps back, there's shuffling inside.

The zipper peels back, revealing Lori's sleepy, moon-lit face. She takes us in with a confused look. "Daryl? What are you doing over here?"

"Listen, I'm sorry for wakin' ya." He murmurs, putting on a level voice. "Came to ask you if... Harley can bunk with you guys tonight."

"Uh, sure." She agrees kindly, encouraging me to step inside by my shoulder, taking my sleeping bag from Dad. "Everything alright?"

"No." He answers gruffly. No point in lying. He don't give up anything else, and she don't pry. He places a kiss to my hair. "Night, chicken."

"Night, Dad." I force myself to say back, 'cause I'm grateful he ain't just kept me stuck in our tent, and that he really listened.

As he gives me one last glance and then leaves, Lori zips the tent up and lays my bedding down next to hers and Rick's. Carl snoozes away in the corner, an open comic book splayed out over his chest. I bet Lori knows what's the matter with me. Rick saw that thousand-yard stare I had after they killed Shane, knows how I been hating myself. He no doubt told her everything. But she's too nice to say anything.

"Here, sweetie." She takes my lumpy pillow and sets it down. I wiggle into the sleeping bag. "Comfy?"

I give a nod, even though laying on my back feels real strange and I don't got Matilda anymore.

She smiles blearily and crawls back under the covers. "Wake me up if you need anything."

And that's that. I stare up at the sky through the Grimes' tent, counting the stars through the black mesh until I fall asleep.

Sometime during the night, I bolt awake, sweating, crying, confused. Shane, I couldn't save him. I watched him die. Again. A gunshot, blood, shouting, dying, searing pain and a dog tag dangling from a broken mirror. Darkness, and then two little hands on my shoulders, shaking me. A boyish, worried voice telling me, hey, it's just a nightmare. I cling to them. Carl. He's here. I don't think before I let him hug me. I sniffle into his neck as he pets the soft spot between my shoulder blades like his Momma and Daddy do when he's upset.

"It was him again," I shudder. "Shane. I miss him. I miss all of 'em."

Life moves on, Daddy said. But how's it that mine ain't? When's that moving part happen?

"Me, too." His arms tighten around me as much as a boy's can. "You're allowed."

After that, I remember the sound of blankets shuffling, a flashlight clicking on, a comic book being quietly read to me. I remember my eyes closing, heart slowing, and I remember thinking he's gonna be the best big brother one day. In a way, he already is.

The next morning, my eyes flutter open to the sight of a quiet, empty tent. By some miracle, I must've slept in a little. I hear the fire crackling away outside, the clinking of spoons on bowls, muffled conversation. After taking a minute to yawn and stretch, I crawl out the tent.

"Ah, there she is." As I round the camping chairs, Dale sends me a warm smile. I take the seat next to him. "Just in time for breakfast."

I glance up at the second storey of the farmhouse, imagining Beth behind one of those pretty windows. I wonder how she feels about waking up this morning. I know I'm exhausted, and all I've done is open my eyes. Another day of eating scraps, crying, and taking pills. Ironically enough, Lori interrupts my spacing out by holding out two little white capsules and a water bottle to me. She's speaking, but I'm not hearing her. I throw both pills back and wash 'em down so I don't gotta look at 'em any longer. I hate that my body can't work on its own anymore.

"Harley." Lori's voice comes quick and sharp this time, startling me. "Are you listening?"

I glare up at her. She's standing so close to me that I don't know how I couldn't hear what she said the first time. "Huh?"

She looks at me like I've done something strange. "I said, 'You can't take those on an empty stomach'. Are you hungry?"

"Oh. Yeah." Now everyone's lookin' at me like that. I reach under my hair and nervously tug on my ear as she turns and fills a bowl with the creamy soup cooking over the fire. I've never not been able to catch what someone's saying like that. She hands the food to me. "Thanks."

As conversation picks up again, I struggle to pin certain words being said, especially when they're from Andrea, who's sitting the furthest from me, and Lori, on my left. S'like half the world's gone silent, and the other half's just a high-pitch squeal. God, it's makin' me mad. I claw at my ear again, as if there's somethin' stuck in there, like a wad of earwax or a cork, but there ain't nothin' in there but the ringing.

A scary thought crosses my mind. If you can't hear for no good reason, that means you're deaf. I can't be deaf.

When Andrea looks directly at me and says something that I think's meant to be a joke, I snap back, "I can't fuckin' hear you, Andrea."

Her smile drops pretty fast, but I don't feel bad. I feel frightened. To my surprise, I don't get told by anyone to mind my language.

Lori just looks at me all pitiful-like and hesitates to guess, "Is it the ringing?"

I'm tired of hearing about the ringing almost as much as I'm tired of hearing the ringing itself. "It ain't the damn— I just can't hear proper."

She glances side-long at Dale. "Herschel did say..."

He sighs, looking a little stressed, before scooting his chair closer to mine and clicking his fingers on my right ear. "What about that?"

It sounds like a far-away thud, thud, thud, where it should actually sound like a snap, snap, snap.

"S'dull." I mutter unconfidently.

He moves to my left ear. This time, there isn't even any thud, thud, thud at all. It's just silence.

When I say nothing, he leans back. "I'm no doctor, but... It seems very obvious to me."

I'm not a doctor neither, and neither is Lori or T or Andrea or Carl, but it's all rather obvious to us, too. I can tell, 'cause they're all lookin' pretty uncomfortable, like this discovery has already ruined the rest of my life as I'm just sitting here. I'm losing hearing in my left ear. That's what it is. As soon as Dad mentioned my hearing to Herschel, and when it got worse at shooting practice, I was scared this would happen.

Ain't nobody shocked. I was never gonna walk away from a gunshot to the side of the head with all my hearing intact.

I guess whenever somebody talks, I'll just have to try reading their lips.

"I had a teacher who was deaf." Carl offers this up like it means anything. "She was really nice and smart. Everyone liked her."

I almost feel like scoffing at him, Wow, thanks so much, Carl. You've cured me.

"It's really nothing." Lori's quick to reassure me, covering for his shitty attempt. "Hundreds of people live like this and they still thrive."

"Hell, I think I'm going deaf sometimes, too." Dale jokes. "And I'd say I'm doing alright, wouldn't you?"

"Sure, Dale." I try to chuckle, staring down at my cold soup.

Nobody mentions the fact that having sharp senses is what keeps you alive nowadays. If a walker sneaks up on me, I won't hear it.

It's then that Dad walks into camp, looking nearly as tired as I feel. He mutters a good morning to everyone, and Lori reluctantly stands to go collect my bedding for him. I waste no time hopping out my seat and going over to hug him, locking my arms around his neck as he kneels to hold me close. I said a whole lotta things last night, and so did he, but I don't think either of us is angry at the other over it. We can read each other well enough to know. He kisses my cheek before pulling back and taking my things from Lori.

Clearing his throat like he does when he might cry, he asks me, "You sleep well, chicken?"

Instead of answering, I just hug his waist and Lori changes the subject. "Daryl, just a heads up. That thing Herschel spoke about..."

"Damn it." He sighs when what she's implying clicks. He reaches down to soothingly pet my hair. "And they still ain't back, are they?"

"No. But we both know Harley and Beth are... in some type of way. We need him."

"And y'all want me to go and fetch him, huh?" He guesses, taking a long moment to consider. Then, "Y'all be grateful you been good to me."

"Thank you, Daryl." She exclaims. "Thank you. We've always been able rely on you."

He scoffs. "Maybe not always."

"Well, enough." She smiles. "They said they were headed to a bar in town called Hatlin's. I think you'll wanna head there first."

"There even gonna be anythin' he can do?" He mumbles so I can barely make it out. "I mean, the guy ain't David Copperfield."

"Well, in the old world, I might've suggested trying out a hearing aid, but now... I'm not so sure."

He grunts. "Them things need batteries, don't they?"

"I think so, but not any standard ones we'd have. You're thinking of finding one, aren't you?"

"I'd turn the whole fuckin' country upside down to get her one, if it's what she needs." He says. "Maybe some old dead guy's wonderin' around with his. Maybe I find one in a doctor's office. Either way, ain't no bill attached to 'em these days and if there's one out there, I'll find it."

She admires the determination in his eyes, lips twitching into a smile. "Rick will help you. I know he will."

"Best I go find officer goody-two-shoes and company, then." He agrees. "Look after my girl for me."

She nods. "That goes without saying."

"I love you, baby." He tells me, which is how I know I done messed up. Takes a lot for him to randomly tell me he loves me, and I guess all that talk last night about giving up was enough. He even places another kiss to my cheek, pinching it after. "I'll see you later."

"I'm sorry, Dad." I mutter.

"I know." He understands I can't help what's happening to me, or how I feel. "I'm gonna get whatchu you need. It's gonna be alright."

I'm not quite sure what I need, but at least the adults seem to know. At least some part of me can be saved.

After he leaves to put my bedding back in our camp, I climb back into my seat and watch the blue truck bumble down the drive and eventually, through the trees. Dale encourages me to finish off my soup in that annoying way my Dad always does, but I only eat a spoonful or two before my stomach shrivels distastefully and he tells me I've tried enough for this morning, so I take to curling up and staring at the fire.

I know if Shane was alive to see what he did to me, he'd be that word Lori likes to say, appalled. He never wanted to hurt me.

A hearing aid. It's one of them things I've never had to think about until now. If I had to go back a couple months and tell seven-year-old Harley, with her long, straight hair and chubby cheeks and bright, green eyes, that I look like a boy, got half an ear, and need a hearing aid, I think she'd hit me upside the head for being a liar. But I know now that you gotta be ready for anythin', like dead people in barns and a last-minute gunshot, and now, I guess, the need for a hearing aid. I have to try squash that feeling of shame. It ain't good for me, but it's always there.

I almost make myself chuckle imagining Carl tryna make being half-deaf badass. He's so relentlessly supportive. They all are.

It's too bad, then, that I still feel this way. This numb and hollowed out, alive but-also-dead way.

The way Carol must feel, and maybe the way Dad felt after Momma died.

"Thank you." Maggie tells Lori and Jacqui in the kitchen, as I stand in front of the fireplace in the next room over. "This is nice of y'all."

I see what Glenn was talkin' about now, about Maggie's great grandfather lookin' like a bald Georgie Washington. He's sitting all proper and important-like inside a photo frame on the mantle, like all people from forever ago do. But there's also newer photos, ones with color, like Maggie and Beth as little girls, posing with horse riding trophies and smiling together at old Thanksgivings and Christmases. I feel happy just looking at them. Baby photos, kind-looking people, school photos. We never knew the Greenes before, but I feel like now I might.

"We just thought you could use some help." Lori replies. "It's been a difficult time for all of us, especially Harley and Beth."

"I appreciate it. Sharin' your supplies, that means a lot these days. You wouldn't mind helpin' me toss it all together will you?"

"Not at all." Jacqui pokes her head around the arch and calls out, "Harley, you wanna come help Maggie finish cooking?"

With a little flinch, I turn to face the three women, remembering why we came here in the first place. We had some tinned vegetables and whatever else left over from breakfast, and Lori thought we'd offer them to Maggie, who's in the middle of cooking a meal for Beth.

"I guess." I hum as I head into the kitchen. It ain't like I got anything better to do. "What're you makin'?"

"Potato soup." Maggie pulls a few bowls from the worn cabinets with a smile. "Well, veggie soup, now."

"Hopefully Beth will feel a little better after a warm breakfast." Lori muses. "It always helped me."

All their words are muffled, as if I'm underwater and they aren't, but I can still just about make out what they're saying.

When Maggie places the bowls on the counter and sees me peering over the ledge, she chuckles. "Let me grab you a stool, huh?"

She grabs a mini wooden step-ladder leaning against the pantry, pulls it open, and sets it down for me. I step onto the lowest rung. She fills a bowl with water from the faucet and slides it in front of me, instructing me to how to rinse off the fat, muddy potatoes and lay them on the dry rag afterwards. It's an easy, mindless task. I get to work while they start slicing up the vegetables and opening the tins.

As Maggie scrapes carrot into the pot, she jokes, "I been makin' so much soup recently I think I forgot how to make anything else."

"Good thing we've taken a liking, then." Jacqui smiles. "I've never tasted a tater soup good as y'all Greenes'. You know your stuff."

Feels like I'm back at the quarry again, helping prepare our next meal from whatever scraps we had, listening to the women gossip.

"Pssh. I'm tellin' you, as kids, Beth and I loathed the day Wednesday came around and Momma'd make her famous potato soup." She scoffs, grinning at old memories. "She always put too much salt in, said it was good for us. But all it was good for was makin' us barf."

Lori makes a sassy face. "I'm taking it the recipe's been tweaked a little since then."

Maggie smirks. "Wouldn't be eatin' it if it hadn't."

"Must've been nice, growing up with food on the table that's straight from your garden."

"Yeah, it was. Fresh peaches and apples to take to school, home-made bread and the like. We've always lived this way."

"Pretty perfect, if you ask me." Jacqui agrees. "Me and my fiancé were always eatin' take away all the time. God, I miss it sometimes."

"A nice greasy burger sounds so good right now." Lori moans, like she can almost taste it. "Oh, and some curly fries on the side."

They all laugh. It's a little funny. I remember her back in the beginning, braggin' about how her family never ate fast food. Now look at her.

As the conversation drifts to more boring things, I find myself thinking about Beth again. We sure grew up different, but we got broken the same way, at the same time. We clearly been thinking about the same things. She was just brave enough to actually pick up a knife and do something about it. I wonder if she knows now her Momma and step-brother been dead a long time, that they weren't sick at all, and were just bodies needed mourning. The Greenes were a little late to that, but it's like Meemaw used to say, better late than never.

I wonder if Beth regrets what she did. She could be dead right now, in a mound of dirt right next to her Momma.

When I was littler, I used to think Dad could read my mind when I was thinkin' unsavoury things like this, and that he'd give me in trouble right away. I thought that's how it worked with adults and kids, but it ain't. I can think whatever I want and it's safe inside my head.

The potatoes get peeled and diced and thrown into the soup like everything else, and then my new job is to help wash dishes.

When we're down to the last few, Maggie says I should take the bowl of soup up to Beth, 'cause they've got this handled.

"Sure." I agree before hopping down, wondering why my heart's beating so fast all of a sudden.

The door to Beth's bedroom creaks open.

I don't bother waiting for her to give me permission to come in. I just creep in all on my own, because from what I've heard, she hasn't talked all day. Her room is exactly like I would'a guessed. Like something out a trendy teenager's magazine, with a nice white desk covered in perfume bottles and hair clips and crumpled paper and books, blonde pop star posters stuck to the walls, a fluffy, cutesy rug, a teddy bear thrown on the lounge chair sitting by the window. Even the Mp3 player Maggie was telling me about, laying forgotten on the floor.

I carefully set the hot bowl on her nightstand, but something keeps me curious, and I don't turn to leave just yet.

Beth's staring at the wall like they said. Not out the window or anything. Just at the wall. I can't imagine her humming sweetly and letting me borrow one of her shirts, giggling at something I said from the other side of the bathroom door. She looks like a totally different girl.

"I went into shock too, yesterday." I randomly muse. "Or at least that's what Rick said. He's the one with the cowboy hat."

I think I might still be in shock. I'm talking and walking around, but inside, I feel like whatever statue Beth's turned into.

"I ain't sure if anyone's told you about it, but you prolly heard the screamin'. The man my Daddy stabbed, Shane, he took me away. We got pretty far. Sometimes I think about what would'a happened if we got even further, but... he was meant to die. Some people just are."

At that, she breaks her gaze away from that spot on the wall and looks me right in the eye. "Do you think I'm one of those people?"

"I... I ain't smart enough to know." I say honestly, before an awkward pause takes over. "'Cause I was only in grade two, y'know."

Carl seemed to find that funny when I first told him, but Beth just looks uninterested.

"And you?" She hides her bandaged wrists under the covers when she catches me looking. "What're you meant for? Dyin', or somethin' else?"

"I think, um... All I'm meant for is suckin' up hurt." I confess. "Like, there's all this bad in the world, and when there's nobody left for it to go to, it goes to me. Maybe I'm just unlucky. Maybe I done somethin' wrong. That's how life is, my Daddy says. So if that's the 'something else', I think I'd rather just be the type meant for dyin'. That's what my Momma did. She was in pain, and then one day... She wasn't."

"She killed herself," Beth says as fact.

"Yeah." I mutter, feeling the weight of the locket crush down on my chest as I take a seat on the edge of the bed. "She did."

"Was she the sort meant for dyin'?"

"No. She weren't." That much, I'm sure of. "She was just meant to be my Momma."

Beth's pretty eyes gloss over as she says very dully, "Our Mom's dead, too. Right before I thought I was about to die, I imagined what she'd think of me when we'd meet in heaven. She'd be ashamed, I know. Somehow, that was so much worse than the thought of going to Hell."

"Well, maybe your God made sure you didn't die." I guess, hoping it's comforting. "Maybe he wants you to live for everybody else."

A tear beads up on her waterline before sliding down her pale cheek. "I just don't know what to do. I think I'm ashamed, too."

"My Dad says you just gotta be stronger, but I don't know how." I wish I did. "I'm sorry. I'd tell you if I did."

"It's okay." With a sniff, she sends me a tiny smile. "You know, you're kind. I can just tell."

That makes me smile back. Something about my rugged hair, my mean face, my missing ear must still be soft like it was before.

Author's Note.

Sorry for the longer than usual wait between chapters! I've been dealing with intense writer's block recently so it just took me a while to get this out, but I'm pushing through!

I hope you're ready for a familiar face to return next chapter! ;)

PS. I wanted to thank you all for the touching dms and messages I've received recently, both on here and on ao3. It's still so mind blowing to me that there are so many people out there who hold a special place in their heart for this story just like I do. I'm so grateful for you all :) 💙

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