#is it denial or bargaining when you’re crying that maybe if you just keep your dad’s clothes in his closet and dont open the closet doors

[chimielie]

Kita / break up (I just want pain)

You don't think breakups are supposed to feel like this. Shinsuke—you suppose you need to get used to calling him Kita, now—just keeps talking, saying sympathetic, reasonable things you can't hear over your own heartbeat.

“And I think even though it hurts now, eventually, it’s gonna be good for the both of us.” Shinsuke finishes. You feel rendered momentarily speechless by the sheer stupid indignity of that statement. What were you supposed to say to that? You’re right, thank you for making this decision for us, I’ll just roll right over and move on now.

“I feel like I’m dying, Shinsuke,” you say instead, leaning forward to twist in the knife, because fuck calling him by his last name when his first name was practically the first word you ever spoke. You’d be embarrassed by the dramatics, except your voice is wrecked, a wrathful, tear-soaked rasp straight from the bottom of your chest. The first tear falls from his eye. “D’you understand that? This isn’t a game, or a chore, or anythin’ with clean steps. You’re hurting me.” Maybe he still has a shred of love for you somewhere, or maybe it’s just muscle memory, but he wipes your tears away with the back of his second knuckle, conscious of how rough the pads of his fingers are.

The path here was paved with smooth, flat stones. No one told you the way would be shut this far along. They’d told you—you’d done everything right. You’d always loved him, and to prove it, you’d told him so on your sixteenth birthday (then ran away), and you’d accepted the flowers he brought to your doorstep the week after. He’d looked so bashful, clutching those stems of hand-picked poppies. You keep seeing that boy on the backs of your eyelids, sweet and unassuming, quiet but determined to be heard when he confessed he felt the same way.

You had gone straight to helping him with the farm after you graduated; you’d never imagined a future away from home, and the longer you spent at Shinsuke’s side, the clearer the picture of home became. While your friends had moved away, calling you to complain about finals and job searches and the stresses of living in new cities, the conversations had inevitably ended in not that you and Kita-san can relate, huh? You guys have it all together. You had laughed and demurely shrugged off the compliment, and thought smugly about its truth while you were snuggled up with him next to a roaring fire built of wood you’d watched him chop. You had built a life together. You had done everything you had been told led straight to a happy life and you were, suffice it to say, not happy.

Last week, your friends had asked when he would propose. You were still young, maybe, but anyone who knew you and Shinsuke’s great love story wouldn’t have batted an eye. Today, he was breaking up with you.

“You don’t get to touch me anymore. You didn’t even want to fight for us,” you say, scooting away from him. “Just, one day, this isn’t what you wanted. Just telling me you know what’s best for me. You gave up.”

“I thought about it, first,” he says. “I didn’t know it would be so bad.”

“God, Shinsuke. Let me be.” You beg him for this softly, made when he tries, again, to comfort you. As if anything could comfort you.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and a vicious part of you you didn’t know existed is happy he’s feeling as well as you do. “You’re crying, I can’t stand it, please—”

Grief is a river. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression. As soon as you register one, you feel yourself flit to the next, cycling back and around as soon as you make yourself some breathing room.

“No,” you shake your head. He shudders, physically, and you can feel the tear between you two as keenly as if living tissue had been cut from you. “You did this. Don’t feel guilty.”

“I’m sorry,” he echoes. His face tugs at your heartstrings.

Acceptance. Rain, washing over you, stinging where it touches but leaving new, clean skin behind. You close your eyes.

You see it plainly then, though you’re not sure he can. Kita Shinsuke can’t live without you. And you can no longer live with him.

#kita x reader #kita shinsuke x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #hq!! x reader #shorts! #ask n answer #anon! #i hope this is sufficient pain sjdjskdn

[iliveinprocrasti-nationn]

anyone who told you about any “grieving process” and gave any descriptors or explanation of how it goes was lying to you. what the fuck is this

#the later it gets the more im reminded and it’s horrible #people please stop asking me how im doing asmr #currently it’s that this feels real at night only #and that when im talking to most people i hate when it’s acknowledged but also it’s worse when it’s not #and jokes are easiest for me and don’t freak me out most of the time #but they also make people concerned and i don’t want them to be worried about me #is it denial or bargaining when you’re crying that maybe if you just keep your dad’s clothes in his closet and dont open the closet doors #and dont take the clothes out or wash them then they’ll still smell like him #everyone smells different and my dad’s was different than mine or my sibling or my mums #yeah um. im Kinda holding on by a thread here #i just want a hug i think #i want to cuddle with my mum but she’s always doing stuff and now it’s paperwork and legal things #i also want people to just stop coming over. my friends are doing this better than grown fucking adults #my teachers are being great but also fuck there’s so much work and im behind enough but i haven’t even gotten enough time to process this #other than quick bursts. half the time i’m trying to take stress off of my mum as well #i keep stopping myself from crying too because i hate crying but i know that’s just gonna make things worse #usually when i feel like this I’d go to my dad but I can’t really do that now can i #my sibling also gets to have a special schedule and gets to go into school an hour later and im just doing everything as i was before which #im a little frustrated about. people keep telling me i can do certain things and then don’t let me and make me do the normal thing #thank goodness im a good actor /j #i just hate this #vent tw #rant tw #death tw #grieving tw #mourning tw #cursing tw

[cadwhatalad]

Look away if you don’t want to read heavy discussion of death and grief, also just so many spoilers for c1 and c2, but -

What I love about Liam O’Brien’s mopey, sadboy roleplay is that even though he’s consistent in his themes of grief and loss, he’s never repetitive about it. His characters bring out a different aspect of it every time.

With Vax, they explored the desperation of bargaining. The wait, no, maybe we can fix it, maybe it’s all a big mistake, maybe someone got it wrong and actually everything’s fine. The possibility of a misdiagnosis, a misidentified body, maybe they dialed the wrong number and this is all happening to somebody else - it hangs over your head and stays there until you run out of escape routes. You put off confronting the reality of it as long as you can. Even if Vax had long accepted his fate during the final arc, his circumstances meant that the other characters (and players) were fucking mired in this. After the disintegrate with Marisha insisting, “I can bring you back, it’s gonna be fine”, after the last battle when Percy was still trying to claw out a deal, his final “I don’t accept this”. Sam crying at the table after that last counterspell. That’s fresh, raw grief. The gasping “wait, please, this can’t be right” because you’ve heard the words and you’ve understood but your brain hasn’t adapted yet, can’t adapt yet because if it’s true then your whole life just got rocked off its axis. The helpless scramble to keep your balance, to keep everything as it was.

Caleb was similar in some ways, still partially in denial, still so certain that there must be a way out, but his grief wasn’t fresh; it was festering. That’s what happens in the weeks and months after. You’ve adapted to this new reality without them and you’ve seen that it’s shit. You don’t want it. That’s when comes the “I could have stopped it-” “I should have stopped it-” “If I’d only-” “If I had just done this differently...”

All you want is to go back and fix it. Who among us wouldn’t chase the possibility if we had the kind of power Caleb had access to? It eats away at you, the thing that keeps you lying awake at 3am cursing yourself, if only, if only, if only. It’s the loud grief, the angry grief, the one that makes you want to unstitch reality and start all over again. And coming to understand that we can’t, we shouldn’t, we don’t need to for our lives to still have value and beauty -

That seems to be where Orym comes in. We don’t know him very well yet, but from his talks with Chetney and Laudna I think we can see the beginnings of the healing grief. The wound has scarred over, still aches but no longer bleeds. No longer requires all your attention. You’re still here. You’re still going. You miss them, you’ll always miss them, but you can carry them with you. You can’t fix it, but you can fix other things. You can visit new places, meet new people, grow flowers around that nice old lady’s door.

Three’s a pattern, right? Or apparently in this case, a process. But as Orym pointed out, it’s not linear - sometimes it’s far away, sometimes it’s close. I’m interested to see where he goes from here. And it’s way too early for this, but I’m already so interested to see what he does if we get campaign 4.

#c3e17 #cr spoilers #campaign 1 spoilers #campaign 2 spoilers #grief cw #death cw #orym

[1dmonthlyficroundup]

1D Monthly Fic Roundup 

Hi, and welcome to the 1D Monthly Fic Roundup for April 2021! Below the cut you’ll find 17 One Direction fics that were all published this month in the order they were submitted to the blog. We hope you’ll check out these new fics! If you would like to submit your own fic, please check this post on how to submit or visit our blog @1dmonthlyficroundup​. 

To Begin Again by @chloehl10​ / lovelarry10 

[Harry/Louis, 23k, Teen and Up, tumblr post] 

“I, uh, I’m really sorry for yelling at you like I did.”

“Hey, I deserved it and more. I’m lucky you didn’t come and deck me on the nose,” Louis said, holding his hands up as if to surrender. “Seriously, you went lightly on me. If a crazy dog was leaping around me and my kids, I’d have lost my shit long before you did, and it would have been a lot more sweary than yours as well.”

Harry laughed at that, quite liking the man now he was getting to know him. This Louis seemed to have a good sense of humour, and his dog was fairly likeable too, laying there sound asleep, sunbathing.

“Well, I don’t usually lose my temper, so I just wanted to apologise.”

“It’s me who needs to say sorry. My stupid dog ate their bloody eggs, and on Easter Sunday at that. It’s a good job we don’t go to church, Cliff, or we’d both be going straight to hell. Nice ears, by the way. I meant to say earlier.”

*＊✿❀○❀✿＊*

Harry’s ready to spend a fun Easter morning with his two children at the park, but it’s thrown into chaos when an over-excited dog and his owner come barrelling into their lives…

A Small Matter (A Matter of Trust) by @kingsofeverything​ 

[Harry/Louis, 18k, Explicit, tumblr post] 

Harry knows he and his Grindr hookup would be perfect together, if only he could convince him to give a relationship a chance. 

Or Harry has a thing for jock straps. Louis likes to wear them. 

Are you proud of me? by @sadaveniren​ 

[Harry/Louis, 2k, Explicit, tumblr post] 

Louis was completely naked, except for a silk scarf that Harry had never seen before. It was tied around his neck like a bow. His lithe body was cast in dramatic shadows as he descended the stairs and all Harry could think was holy shit, mine, mine, mine.

“Well this is a shame. I was hoping you’d keep the boa.”

Harry blinked in surprise at his voice. He was too caught up in his perfection. “What?”

“I guess the leather will do. I do love you dressed in leather.”

aka I show up 2 weeks late with Grammy Fic

Right Back Home to You by @behindmeday​

 [Harry/Nick Grimshaw, 4k, Teen & Up, tumblr post] 

It wasn’t the first time Harry and Nick were cut off before they really got started talking. In fact, it seemed to be happening more often than not. Nick had an insane schedule that no rational person would choose, but Harry’s was even worse. Between the early mornings on The Breakfast Show and the never-ending time zone changes of tour, it seemed that Harry and Nick weren’t really meant to have any real conversations these days. 

Or, Harry writes Nick a song. 

take my hand (my whole life too) by @beckydoesthings​ / beckywritesthings

 [Harry/Louis, 44k, Explicit, tumblr post] 

“You’re famous?” he asks, deciding to dive straight into the heart of the issue.

Harry winces, dropping his gaze to the table. “Erm… famous is one word for it.”

Well, that’s reassuring. Louis raises an eyebrow until Harry heaves a sigh and continues.

“How much do you know about the British monarchy?”

His stomach drops to the floor in a heartbeat, jaw following suit. There’s no way that what Harry’s insinuating is possible. But as the time ticks by, there’s no change in the deadly serious expression on Harry’s face, fingers twitching steadily on the table as he waits for Louis’ answer.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Or a Crazy Rich Asians AU with a royal twist where Harry is a prince, Louis is most definitely not, and there’s a royal wedding to attend.

Forever Is In Your Eyes by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed​ / we_are_the_same 

[Harry/Louis, 126k, Teen & Up, tumblr post] 

Harry looks fragile in the moonlight, and Louis stands there, pondering, not even sure what it is that he’s thinking of. It’s all just noise in his head, a mix of melancholy and desire, of longing for something that he doesn’t even have a name for.

He wants-

He wants love. He wants to be held and cherished and have a home. Not just a place to lay his head down at night. He wants to be loved the way that Louis had loved creating Harry. He wants his perfect man, but he wants him to be real. He wants Harry to be real-

His lips press against marble, against something cold and unforgiving, and it’s not until his hand comes up to rest against a sculpted neck that his eyes fly open and he stumbles backwards, nearly falling off the stepladder that he’d stood on.

“Jesus Christ.” He whispers, shaking his head and resisting the urge to brush the back of his hand against his lips, erase evidence that isn’t even visible to the naked eye. Harry stands there, as though nothing’s changed, and of course he does, because he’s a statue.

A statue that Louis has just kissed.

Stuck in an eternal spring by @chrysopon​ / flamboyo 

[Louis/Zayn, 4k, Teen & Up, tumblr post] 

Louis is about to go crazy in the silent solitude of London’s lockdown. The only breach into the grey monotony of his days is the hope of catching a glimpse of the dark-haired guy who lives in the building across the street. One night they have their night cigarette together while both in their flats, twenty meters and an empty, quiet street between them. It becomes a habit, but maybe there’s hope for it to become something more. 

It’s Been So Long by @elsi-bee​ / elsi_bee 

[Harry/Louis, 31k, Teen & Up, tumblr post] 

Harry Styles’ first crush was one of his sister’s best friends, a certain someone named Louis Tomlinson. And Louis? He just vaguely remembers Gemma’s younger brother from back in the day. 

A lot can change in ten years. 

Featuring Niall and Liam as Harry’s friends, flirting, fluff, and flashbacks to the awkward days of high school. 

This Dream Lost by @zanniscaramouche​ / zanni_scaramouche

[Liam/Louis/Harry, 5k, Mature, tumblr post] 

It’s a dangerous game to play his Alpha like this, and it gives Harry a thrill through his spine he’s not sure he likes. It’ll be worth it, but he doubts he’ll be pulling any surprises on Louis for a while after this. He can’t fucking stand it as is and it’s not even really for Louis, it’s for Liam. 

Mercy by @zanniscaramouche​ / zanni_scaramouche 

[Niall/Shawn Mendes, 5k, Explicit, tumblr post] 

“I-” Shawn licks his lips, eyes bright and wide with the shock. 

Balls in his court now. He could refuse, step away from the line they’re toeing and laugh it off. But he doesn’t, just like Niall knew he wouldn’t. Because Shawn wants this. They both do, and that’s what makes it so fucking insane. 

Blind Faith by @2tiedships2​ 

[Harry/Louis, 18k, Mature, tumblr post] 

“Harry?” Liam prompted.

“I’m blind,” Harry eventually said, trying his best to keep himself from crying.

Liam was silent for a few moments, before responding, “That’s not exactly news, H. You were blind when I met you a year and a half ago. Have you been in denial this whole time or something?”

“No, Liam,” Harry cut in. “This is different. I’m not legally blind like I used to say. It’s not just my night vision. The tunnel from my tunnel vision has closed. I’m fucking blind! I moved halfway around the world in the hope of finding my soulmate and it’s obviously not happening now. Not even a soulmate is going to want to put up with a blind alpha.“

The Journal by @wait4ever​ / RecycledStardust & @evilovesyou​ / 4ureyesonly28 

[Louis/Harry, 14k, General, tumblr post] 

When Harry finds himself purchasing an antique journal in the ancient bookshop of a town he’s never heard of, he doesn’t exactly want to admit that he has no idea how he got there. A myriad of odd coincidences and a few kind smiles from the shopkeeper have the two of them working hard to solve the mystery of this strange journal that seems to have been waiting for Harry for almost a hundred and thirty years. 

But I’m the Quarterback by @evilovesyou​ / 4ureyesonly28 

[Harry/Louis, 52k, Explicit, tumblr post] 

Harry Styles is the quarterback of Sunny High’s football team, dating the beautiful head cheerleader, and determined to enter his senior year with focus and discipline. That is, until a strange man shows up at his home, makes his girlfriend break up with him, and convinces his parents to send him off to a “reparative therapy camp” over the summer. 

At True Directions, Harry meets four other boys and five girls, all there to be cured of their homosexuality. He has to find a way out of this place as soon as possible—Christ, he isn’t even gay! 

Know a Trick or Two by @sadaveniren​ 

[Harry/Louis, 45k, Explicit, tumblr post] 

The night before Louis is scheduled for a Portkey to begin training with the Vratsa Vultures in Bulgaria he heads into Muggle London for one last night of fun. A few months later he finds out he’s having a child. 

Eleven years ago Harry had a one night stand and now there’s a strange man on his doorstep telling him his daughter is something called a wizard and she’s got a place at the British wizarding school Hogwarts. 

Aka the one where Muggle Harry and Wizard Louis have a one night stand and get more than they bargained out of it. 

Until That Day by @kingsofeverything​ 

[Harry/Louis, 44k, Explicit, tumblr post] 

Harry Styles is days away from walking down the aisle when his previous failed weddings are turned into a public spectacle by jaded London journalist Louis Tomlinson. Hoping to witness Harry leave another groom at the altar, Louis heads to Holmes Chapel, where nothing goes as planned, and he finds himself falling for the serial heartbreaker. 

A Runaway Bride movie AU 

Caught In Your Gravity by @lululawrence​ 

[Harry/Louis, 63k, Not Rated, tumblr post] 

It felt like the blood froze in Harry’s veins even as he got a bit lightheaded. He hadn’t even made it two practices, only one of which he was remotely in charge of, without giving it all away and now he and Liam were both absolutely fucked.

“Shit,” Harry breathed out. “Who all have you told? Does everyone know? I thought I covered it better than that…”

“No, no,” Louis said quickly. “They’ll figure it out soon enough, though, because they’ll get used to you changing things up, but you’re only going to trip over your so called Americanisms for so long before they realize it’s because you don’t actually know fuck all about football.”

Harry sighed. “Yeah. I figured. I just need to bullshit for long enough to allow Liam to get the situation figured out from his end.”

“Right, which brings me to my entire point. I think we can find a mutually beneficial arrangement with all of this.” Louis leaned forward. “You need to learn the ins and outs of the sport incredibly fast. I can help you with that.”

“What do you want in exchange?”

Or, an AU inspired by a 30 second trailer of Ted Lasso that doesn’t actually have much in common with the show at all.

Passing By by @larryyouknow​

[Harry/Louis, 48k, Explicit, tumblr post]

Sometimes, people are in each other’s lives just for the briefest of moments. They meet and then go their separate ways because being vulnerable is scary and it might be easier to not let anybody else in. But some people aren’t meant to be just passing by. Maybe when they open their eyes, they can learn things about themselves they haven’t known before. If they let their hearts speak they will find a way to be together.

Or the one where Harry doesn’t even know he’s into guys until he meets Louis on a boat trip. There’s something more to their friendship but it ain’t gonna be smooth sailing.

#28th appreciation #tracksintheam #1dsource #trackinghome #april 2021 #april masterpost #sorry if you got notified for the first post #tumblr destroyed it and it had to be redone

[vivianweasley]

In Love With My Best Friend (Fred Weasley X Reader)

Summary: When you realized that you have always loved George, it was already too late. Instead of being the bride, you became the bridesmaid. But it seemed like you weren’t the only one who’s in love with their best friend.

Pairing: Fred X Fem!Reader, George X Reader (unrequited love)

Warnings: angst (George getting married!) to fluff, drinking

Word count: 1.9K

A/N: I was listening to “Lucky” by Jason Mraz and Colbie Caillat while writing this! 

Please do NOT repost my work or translate it on another site without permission! Thank you! Reblogs and comments are always welcomed

There are always a few things in life that people just take for granted.

Like that year’s Christmas Eve at the Burrows. That night, after a few glasses of butterbeer, you fell asleep lying on George’s shoulder. His shoulders were broad and he smelled like sweet cinnamon and caramel. You just felt so warm and secure next to him. At that time, you still couldn’t understand what that warm feeling in your heart meant, but you just naively believed that this feeling of warmth and security would never go away.

You were friends with the famous Weasley twins since your first year at Hogwarts and the three of you have been best friends for about twelve years now.

But regardless of being given more than a decade, you were still stupid enough to finally realize during the war that you have always loved George. And still you did nothing after that big realization, because you were afraid that he would find you weird or feel awkward around you. You just couldn’t afford sabotaging your friendship with him.

Plus, he’s your best friend so he would always be there for you, right? You could just confess your feelings whenever you are ready. So what’s the hurry?

But life rarely goes according to people’s plans. George eventually got a girlfriend. You were sad, but you weren’t hopeless. It was not like he never had a girlfriend before. So as long as he was not married, you could still wait for him.

But then, he proposed to her.

Fred told you this news when he came to your apartment for your weekly movie night. He always knew that you fancied George, so he decided to tell you this before you hear it from George at tonight’s dinner at the Burrows.

You swore to Merlin that you heard a huge exploding sound when you heard that news, but your apartment was perfectly quiet, dead silent even.

And then you went through what the muggles called the five stages of grief.

Denial. “Ha ha ha, that’s funny Fred. You got me, that’s a good one.”

Anger. “How could he do this to me! This is so not fair! I was here first! I was here for him for twelve years! This is not fair!  I need to get him back! I don’t care if I’m gonna ruin the wedding! Fred Weasley, are you with me or not!”

Bargain. “Merlin, please! What should I do! I can trade anything for this, please!”

Depression. “Fred, I need some time alone. Oh I’m not sad...I just...I’m not crying......I’m sorry about your shirt Freddie, didn’t mean to use it as a tissue. I’ll wash it for you tomorrow.”

And finally, acceptance. “Merlin of course! I would love to be your Maid of Honor! I’m so happy for you George!”

You’ve prepared so much for this wedding, possibly overthinking every detail of it. For example, what should you say for your Maid of Honor speech? 

Tell them how Fred accidentally splashed paint on your dress the day before the Yule ball, and how George managed to get you a new one one hour before the dance? No, you’re not the bride. This is not about you.

Tell them how you and George hid chocolates in the secret passage at Hogwarts when you were 12? The chocolates all melted after the summer and ants were crawling all over the secret passage. No, you wanted to keep that as your secret memory.

Tell them how George prepared for his bride’s birthday present when they first started dating? He decided to give her a whole box of puking pastiles for her to skip work, but you strongly opposed that idea. That’s a nice story, relevant to both the bride and the groom.

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

You were sitting on the stairs at the Burrows, holding your notes in your hand and your nails anxiously tracing the side of the paper. The wedding was just at the tent beside the Burrows, but you were panicking now.

What the hell were you doing? The man that you’ve loved for so many years was getting married and you became the bridesmaid? How the hell did you get into such an unpleasant situation? 

You knew that he doesn’t belong to you. He never did. You knew that, but going to his wedding is different. Did you really have the courage to watch him get married to another person? Were you really ready to face the fact that from this day on, George Weasley will never be yours? But you just wanted him to be happy.

Twelve years of memories with him raced through your head. You missed that and you missed the you at that time. You wanted to start over.

Your brain was a mess and the insides of your stomach felt like they were tangled together. And you couldn’t remember a single full sentence from your speech that you spent the entire night memorizing.

You wanted to run away.

“Are you still planning to steal the groom? Thought we are a team.”

You turned your head slowly towards the source of the voice and it took your brain a few seconds to process and give you a name, Fred. You tried to sound as normal as possible, “Oh no, don’t have the energy to do that anymore.” 

You thought Fred just came here to make a lighthearted joke, but he sat down next to you on the stairs, “You know, you don’t have to give the speech if you don’t want to. You don’t even have to be the Maid of Honor.”

“No, I have to. I promised him.”

“Or you can give me your notes, or to Ginny. There are so many choices, take your pick.”

“It’s ok Fred, I can do this myself.”

“Fine, just remember that I’m always here to help.” He sounded so serious it surprised you. You’ve never seen Fred being so serious before.

You nodded. 

“Alright! Let’s go then!” He pulled you up from the stairs and you followed him to the wedding venue with your head held high. 

The wedding went well. When this moment, this moment that you’ve dreaded for so long, finally happened, you were actually feeling calmer than you imagined. Watching them exchanging wedding rings and becoming legal husband and wife, you actually felt relieved for a moment. This was finally the moment when you accepted the fact that George never belonged to you. This was finally the moment when you could officially let go of this unrequited love that you never really knew how to deal with. 

After Fred’s toast, it was your turn. You stood up and everyone was staring at you now. Suddenly, you found yourself panicking again. Were you really feeling calm right now? Were you really ready to do this? What if you started to break down during the speech, with everyone watching? Your throat went dry. Your face was burning up, but your hands and feet were cold. 

But someone held your hand under the table. You turned to Fred. He smiled at you and whispered, “You can do this.”

His hand was warm and his smile was so comforting, making you believe that you can indeed do this. You felt warmth gradually returning to your limbs. You felt like you could breathe again.

You eventually finished your speech without crying or stuttering. The guests were cheering and you saw George grinning at you, “Thank you Y/N!”

You replied with a soft smile. It was finally over. The wedding came to it’s conclusion and so did your decade-long unrequited love. Nothing dramatic happened. Everything was just the way as it should be.

You fell on your chair. You were grateful that your poor heart could finally find a moment of peace and tranquility. “When all of this is over, maybe I could finally get a good night sleep.”

“When all of this is over, maybe you could give yourself a break in Greece,” Fred replied.

“What do you mean?”

“Charlie was invited to study a really rare breed of dragons in Greece and they said he could bring two friends.”

You suddenly sat up, “Are you bringing me!”

“Yea, Charlie was bringing me and George at first, but I guess George won’t be available for the next month. So I thought I should bring you since you love Greek mythology and all that.”

“How did you know that!” You were surprised. You always loved learning about Greek mythology, but you never told Fred and George about it because you thought they won’t be interested.

“Please Y/N, I’m not that stupid. I saw you reading about it all the time.”

“I never thought you were stupid. I just thought- you couldn’t read!”

He looked hurt, “Is this how you treat someone who’s gonna treat you to a grand trip?”

“You’re right...Where’s Charlie? I need to thank him!” You replied and he laughed.

Slow music started to play and the bride and groom started dancing. The guests soon followed them.

“Y/F/N Y/L/N, may I have this dance?” Fred stood up. He bent over a little and offered his hand.

“Of course!” You smiled as you put your hand in his and followed him to the dance floor. You two were dancing right beside George and his bride. This scene took you right back to the night of the Yule Ball. That night, Fred was dancing with Angelina and you were dancing with George.

Fred thought back on that night too, “Looks like you’ve finally found the better dance partner.”

“Didn’t know you could dance too,” you teased, but you also wanted to compliment him. You always thought Fred would be more into dancing to up-beat musics, instead of slow sappy love songs like this. But now with your hand on his shoulder and his hand on your waist, leading you, it felt just right. 

“Of course! But you still chose George that year, it’s your loss.”

You rolled your eyes, “Please, it’s not like you’ve asked me or anything.”

“Was planning to, but George asked you first.”

“What?” You thought he was only joking, but he stated it so matter-of-factly. A familiar tingling sensation started to rise in your stomach.

“It’s true. Why? Are you regretting your decisions now? Are you falling in love with me now?” He winked at you as he teased you.

“You wish!” You kicked him, but your heart was beating like crazy and you could feel your face heating up.

Oh no. Not this again! You finally moved on from George and now you were falling for his twin? You tried to calm yourself and regain some senses, but you could already feel the heat from your cheeks spreading to the tip of your ears.

Please, you were not going to make this kind of mistake twice! Because you knew from experience, it sucks being in love with your best friend!

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

Many stories would be so different if different people were telling it. Like that Christmas Eve at the Burrows that you remembered and held dear to your heart for years. 

That night after you fell asleep on George’s shoulder, George fell asleep too, leaving Fred to be the only sober one. He tried to wake his brother, but the two of you were sleeping like the dead on the couch. Fred sighed and decided to carry you upstairs to Ginny’s room.

You were so drunk, but you still didn’t forget to mumble a “Thank you” when Fred tucked you in. He found that adorable. A warm feeling started to rise in his heart as his fingertips caressed your flushed cheeks. He couldn’t help but left a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“Good night love.” He whispered with a soft smile before closing the door and leaving, knowing this night was probably going to live in his head for a long time. 

People all say that Fred is the more insensitive and oblivious twin, but that’s not true when it comes to the person he loves. Long before you even realized that you loved George, Fred figured it out. 

But that’s alright, he knew he still got a chance. He knew he would always be there for you and one day maybe you would realize that too. He knew what’s your favorite song and what’s your favorite book. He knew how to make you smile so easily. He just felt so lucky that he’s in love with his best friend.

Part 2

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#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #weasley twins #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley fanfiction #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction

[justanotherpersonsuniverse]

Demon Alya AU: Lila the Possessor

Marinette could feel the blood draining from her face. She'd expected to see almost anything when she'd decided to follow Lila, from her weaving her next lie to a clandestine meeting with Hawkmoth himself. The girl casually talking to a burning portal in midair was so far outside expectations that Marinette was having trouble reorienting herself. "You would not believe the level of goody-goody nonsense I have to put up with over here. It frankly makes me want to puke. Fortunately most of them are as gullible as they come, so I'll eventually be able to collect their souls no problem. It'll make a nice power boost for myself while I'm tracking down Hawkmoth to claim both his soul and his Miraculous. Make sure to keep up the ritual sacrifices and everything going strong, because some of my bosses are coming later this week and we want to impress them. I'll stop by later after I've checked in with 'mommy dearest'. Ta-ta." Marinette realized she needed to hide just a second too late. "Well, well," Lila grinned just a little too wide for Marinette's comfort level. "Look who just saw more than they were supposed to." "You-you..." "Yes, me, me. What of it?" "I-You-Ladybug and Chat Noir will stop you!" Marinette finally got out. To her astonishment, Lila actually laughed at that. "Those two imbeciles don't even know I exist, and it wouldn't matter if they did." She stepped up and leaned so far into Marinette's personal space that the girl had to take a step back. "I'm inviolate. The daughter of an Italian diplomat. Those two nitwits would never start an international incident. They're too noble for that." "I... I doubt you're really the diplomat's daughter," Marinette said with a confidence she didn't feel. She should have hidden. Or transformed. Being transformed right now would be really nice, but she didn't dare do it in front of Lila unless there was no other option. "Aren't you clever?" Lila simpered. "I'm not Ambassador Rossi's daughter... but I am wearing her." "Um... what...?" Marinette squeaked. "You see, there was this little Italian girl crying in the park one day a few months ago, moaning about how hard it was to make friends. How her mother kept moving and she kept having to start over from scratch and boo-hoo all the kids at her school wouldn't be her friends. And then you know what happened?" "W-what?" "She foolishly said she'd sell her soul if she could only make friends easier. I mean, what was I supposed to do with an opening like that? So I told her I could help her get friends if she wanted. She was so stupidly happy that she said she'd do anything right then and there." "W-what did you do?" "What did I do? I plunged my hand into her chest and ripped her soul out right then and there! The look on her face was priceless! 'Oh, don't worry,' I told her. 'I'll be sure you have plenty of "friends" to fawn all over you or at least me.' and then I possessed her body!" "What d-did you do with h-her then?" "Oh, I keep her around. Let her watch how well I'm fulfilling my end of our bargain. She's so ungrateful, though, always moaning about how I should stop lying and manipulating people because that's 'not what friends do'. It's so pathetic it's hilarious!" "Ladybug and Chat Noir will stop you," Marinette tried to rally herself. "I'll help them." Lila laughed like it was the funniest thing she'd ever heard. "Oh, I hope you try! Wouldn't that be a sight! Poor Marinette has a psychotic break from stress and accuses a classmate of being a demon! No one would believe you! They'll throw you in the nuthouse and I'll just take all your classmates souls anyway. Maybe I'll have them be human sacrifices too..." "Don't you dare!" Marinette snarled. She didn't care if Lila was really a demon from Hell, no one threatened her friends! "Temper, temper..." Lila sneered. "But you know, maybe you could get someone to believe you. Which would mean that 'Lila' has outlived her usefulness. I'd have to abandon her, maybe get my cult to carve her up to throw off suspicion, and find a new gullible sap to

inhabit." Lila's expression turned extremely dark and taunting. "As a matter of fact, I've had my eye on dear sweet Adrien for a while." "No..." "Yes...! Such a perfect host. Rich... famous... connected... An overprotective father who neglects him constantly, leaving a son starved for affection and attention. I could probably get him to sell his soul just by promising to get his father to pay attention to him. And you know... If you helped me, I could be persuaded to ensure 'Adrien' would be your boyfriend afterwards..." "Never!" Lila actually seemed a bit surprised by how firm her denial was. "Well, suit yourself. It's not like you can do anything to me anyway. Even if you killed this body, I'd just find a new one and then you'd never see me coming. See you around, Marinette." Marinette managed to wait three minutes after Lila turned the corner before allowing her legs to give out from under her. "Tikki..." "She's gone," Tikki said, looking uncharacteristically solemn. "Now that I know what she is, I can sense her presence easily." "How... how do we deal with something like that?" "Oh, Marinette," Tikki said gently, "what forces do you think the Miraculous were created to combat in the first place? The day we can't handle one little upstart demon is the day we retire." "Oh god, that poor girl... Lila..." "There are ways to get her soul back to her body, even if it's been taken to Hell," Tikki said. "They're some of the few rituals the Order of Guardians allowed us kwami to learn." "Okay... okay... we'll still need to get... er... 'Lila' out of... um... Lila's... body... geez that sounds weird to say..." "There are ways to do that too. Your cleansing powers could manage it, but for the best results..." "You'll need the cleansing powers of Destruction." Marinette and Tikki both looked to see Plagg, looking so thunderously irate that Marinette had to double-check that he wasn't actively using Cataclysm. "To think," Plagg said with the care and deliberation of someone who knew if they exerted any less self control they would lose any semblance of control over their temper, "that there was a possessor demon so brazen as to be on the same continent - the same city - as my kitten. And I managed to miss it for this long... I'm losing my touch. Well, now that I know she exists, there's nowhere for her to hide. I'll be teaching my kitten the more advanced uses of his powers immediately. Clearly I've been lax in his training. Well, no more. It's time to remind those spirits who would steal and inhabit the bodies of others exactly why those who wear the Ring of the Black Cat are the most feared exorcists in history." -----

Chat Noir eventually learns the tricks and when he and Ladybug face off against 'Lila', he shocks 'Lila' when he proves intent on Cataclysming her directly, but she feels confident that would only dust her 'meat suit'. She has just enough time to scream in terror when it proves to do the opposite, dusting the possessing spirit and leaving the body intact.

Ladybug does the ritual to return the real Lila's soul to her body and the girl has to spend a month in therapy before she can go out in public from the trauma.

The class welcomes her with open arms, and a hug (and secret blessing) from Rose does more good for her than the month of therapy.

The demon 'Lila's' cult seems to have vanished off the face of the earth and when asked about them, Alya and Juleka just kind of whistle innocently.

The real Lila goes on to become friends with everyone in class and eventually this traumatic chapter in her life becomes almost like a bad dream.

----- Oh, hey, you can have your Lila hate sink and your Lila redemption!

----

----

Nice!

#submission #demon alya au

[katberk]

The Seven Stages of Grief

Tommyinnit x Reader

Genre: Angst

in-game au

The attack was something out of a movie. The way the withers destroyed everything in it’s path without remorse for the people, the screams of the panicked and afraid, and then a loud sob that rang through the air.

Tommy was there in the middle of the giant crater, hovering over your body with shacks to his own. “Y/N... wake up! Stop playing with me... jokes over!” His voice was low and in fear.

When his legs gave out he dropped to your side and cradled you in his scratched and blooded arms. “You’re alive, I just know it! You would never leave me!” His cry fell on deaf ears.

When the smoke cleared everyone was surrounding the edge with sorrow and tears. They lost a member that was the light of everyone’s life, their hope and encouragement... their friend and one, a sibling.

Still in the boys arms Tommy looked up to try and find the hybrid pig who started it all. Still clenching your dead body tightly he screamed in rage. “Technoblade! Where the fuck did you go?!”

“He’s gone Tommy... He left already.” Tubbo, Tommy’s best friend, Y/N’s brother, had tears cascading down his cheeks. “C-can I see them... please?” Tubbo looked petrified. Seeing his sibling dead was never in his mind, seeing his younger sibling lifeless with bruises and blood made him want to faint.

Without words Tommy gently laid them down so Tubbo could mourn. “I’m so sorry Y/N! I... I never meant for this to happen! I was suppose to protect you...I’m your older brother.” His sobs got loudly each word. The two boys surrounded by their also mourning friends hugged and cried at the lost of their fallen hope.

Life going on was going to be hell.

Shock and Denial

It’s been a couple of days since the end of the war. People were rebuilding and moving on quicker then some. The news that Wilbur was dead was also a turning point for Tommy as well. He was in denial. His lover and mentor couldn’t be dead, right?!

Tommy was, different. He wasn’t his happy self, he wasn’t making jokes or laughing at stupid stuff. He was just on the beach reminiscing. “Y/N can’t be dead... They just can’t! It’s impossible!”

“They’re dead Tommy.” That voice, it was Dream. The man who owned the cursed land people were standing on, the ‘god’ of everything. “They aren’t coming back and you know it.”

“SHUT UP!” Tommy swung his head to face the masked man. “Stop trying to get into my head! Stop trying to mess me up again! Y/N isn’t dead and I know it!”

The sad thing was... Tommy really didn’t understand that Y/N was gone. He was just stuck in a rut that can’t be escaped... not today at least.

“How about this. I’ll give you a favor, at a cost of course.” Dream was smirking, his eyes glowing with mischief and greed.

“I’m not falling for your stupid mind games Dream... just leave me alone.” That was the end of the conversation. Tommy hearing Dream leave with the words ‘the offer still stands’ before placing his head into his hands to cry his shock away.

Pain and Guilt

A week now. A week has gone by since the talk on the beach. Tommy finally got it through his head that you were dead. That confirmation made the thoughts of pain and guilt to surface to the top of his mind.

“I mean... I could have saved them, right?” Tommy looked up at Phil. “I could of saved them and everything would be okay...” His voice was hoarse from all the crying and screams that were let out moments before.

“Tommy, you can’t beat yourself up when it wasn’t your fault. Things happen, somethings we don’t want happening just does... It’s life Tommy.” Phil didn’t know what to do exactly. He was still mourning at the loss of Wilbur, but he could see Tommy wasn’t making that much progress.

“I just want this to be a big nightmare, and I-I’ll wake up to their smile and then get to hear their voice again...” Tommy couldn’t think straight.

“Just get some sleep, and remember that sometimes, life is unfair...” With a ghost of a smile Phil left to get himself back on track.

“Good-night... I guess.” Soft voice and tears were washing away the pain.

Anger and Bargaining

It’s a new month now. People are getting back on track, people are happy. This made Tommy angry. “How can they be happy?! Y/N’s dead!” His mind was racing.

“Calm down Tommy, maybe they just heal faster.” Tubbo was intimidated by the blonde. “It just takes a little longer for some peo-”

“How are you not mad, or sad, or something?! Your own flesh and blood is dead! In the ground and never COMING BACK!” Tommy yelled out his frustration causing Tubbo to break down.

“I am sad Tommy! Of course I am... I’m just trying to forget... to remember them happy and in peace instead of bleeding and rotting!” His tears were rolling down his face, clear but with agony. Tommy’s eyes softened with guilt.

“I’m sorry for yelling... I just... I just want Y/N back, safe and sound... not hurt, not sad, and not fucking dead!” Tommy apologized stopping in his tracks when he got to the crater.

Once again, the two boys were asking you to come back... not today though, it just didn’t work. 

Depression

Now it’s been a couple of months. Phil is doing much better, Tubbo is surviving better, but Tommy, he’s trying to get that favor into motion.

“Please Dream! I just want them back, you said that it still stood!” He was begging, almost to tears.

“Tommy, that was months ago. You had your chance, but then you threw it away.” Dream denied once again, a smirk and a light chuckle.

“No, that’s not fair! Y-you said that... you said tha-” He couldn’t finish his plead.

“Life isn’t fair Tommy! You just have to get that through you thick skull! Life isn’t FAIR!” Dream was now laughing, his eyes behind the mask were swirls of no more sanity left.

“You bastard!” Tommy could’t loss, he just couldn’t!

“I guess I am then... wallow in that depression Tommy, cry me a river because Y/N isn’t coming back.” That was it. Dream left the boy broken and alone, curled up and lost.

Upward Turn

He’s relaxed, the pain and the anger has passed, out of his system. He feels calm and understanding. It took awhile, but with the help from Phil and Tubbo he finally made process that he’s satisfied with.

Tommy is finally healing...

Reconstruction and working through

It’s been a year now. Yes a year. Tommy was finally lifting himself up and acting more like himself. He was picking up the pieces of his shattered heart. Placing them back together with the memories that he cherished deeply.

He started to keep a journal where he vents or just talks about his day, a nice way to not loss yourself, a safe place to cry away any hanging on pain.

Tommy was ready to pick himself up and move on.

Acceptance and Hope

Hope. That word was lost since the start of the whole cycle. Tommy lost his hope that day when the withers destroyed the rest of the already blown-up L’Manberg. He lost his lover, but that didn’t stop him from slowly building up the motivation to move on from the loss.

Tommy was ready for the future, he was ready to get revenge for you, he was ready to see you if he ever got the chance. He was ready for everything and anything... because

He pasted the seven stages of grief.

#mcyt #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt tommyinnit #tommyinnit #tommyinnit x reader #x reader #angst #dream smp #dream smp war

[fanfics4all]

8th Year

Request: Yes / No 

Requests are closed <3 Have a nice day/night

George Weasley x Fem!Reader 

Word count: 1081

Warnings: Talk of Fred’s death, the stages of grief 

Y/N: Your Name 

A/N: I took a different take on this prompt and I hope you guys like it!  Bingo card made by @slyttherins​

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK! 

If you want to be on the tag list for anything (My series fics, specific character fics, or just all of them) All you have to do is send me an ask and I will add you! 

Masterlist 

(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

It’s been a year since the war ended. A year since my husband lost his twin. A year since Hogwarts was destroyed. George and I had gotten married just before the war started, one of the last moments we had with Fred. Not long after the war ended George and I both got letters to return to Hogwarts. He was obviously done with school and didn’t want to return. I, on the other hand, wanted to finish my schooling. Perhaps it was the Ravenclaw in me, but I loved school. I wanted to continue learning, but I also couldn’t just leave George the way he was. So, the whole year after the war I stayed by George’s side. He went through all the stages of grief. Denial was first. George would pretend it never happened. I knew this was normal, but it was hurting people around him. 

“Hey love, have you seen Freddie around?” He asked, coming up to our apartment over the shop. 

“George baby, Fred is gone…” I answered quietly. 

“You mean he went out?” He asked with a confused expression. 

“No love, I mean he’s not with us anymore.” I answered sadly. 

“No! He just went out to get more supplies! Yeah that’s it.” He said while walking off. I sighed and shook my head. There wasn’t much I could do for him, he just needed to go through this his way. 

Anger was next. Once he became aware that Fred was indeed dead, he was angry. It was a night after the shop closed and George had come stomping up the stairs. He slammed open the door with tears in his eyes. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” I asked, worried about my husband. 

“Fred! He just left me to do all this on my own!” He shouted and I was taken back. 

“He didn’t choose to die, love.” I said. 

“Oh really? He could have tried harder to fight them off! He could have called out for help! He could have called for me!” He shouted. I pulled him to me as he cried into my shoulder. 

“It’s alright love, I’m right here. Everything will be alright.” I whispered gently. 

Once his anger came to a stop he turned to bargaining. I’d watch him on hard nights pacing around our apartment, mumbling to himself. I’d always listen to his reasons. 

“If we didn’t split off maybe he would still be here.” He said. 

“Or maybe I wouldn’t have a husband.” I said and he looked at me with tears falling from his face. 

“No! If I stayed with him we would have fought everyone off and protected each other.” He cried. I walked over to him and pulled him towards me. 

“It’s not your fault, love.” I said as I stroked his head gently. 

It wasn’t long for his anger to fade and turn into the next stage, depression. I would run the store by myself while George was up in our apartment moping around or laying in bed. He was crying a lot more than he had in the past. I walked up to our apartment after a long day at the shop and found George sitting at the desk looking at a picture of him and Fred. 

“George? Honey? Are you alright?” I asked, walking up behind him. 

“How can I run this shop without him? I don’t feel like myfelt without him.” He said and I sighed. 

“George my love, you are still the man I fell in love with all those years ago. Even without your other half, you’re still as funny as ever. Fred wouldn’t want you to be like this. He would want you to enjoy your life, to get future Hogwarts students to pull pranks just like you two did.” I smiled and it actually made George smile a bit. 

“Maybe you’re right…” He sighed. 

That was the long start to his road to acceptance. I found George smiling more, being excited about the store again, he even invented a product in Fred’s name! I was so proud of him, his emotions took him on a journey, but he was doing better. 

“You seem to be in a better mood.” I said and he smiled at me. 

“Everyone’s been right, I shouldn’t be wallowing in my sadness, Fred wouldn’t want that for me. It’s like you said, he’d want me to run the shop and keep living my life. Speaking of…” He said and pulled out my letter from Hogwarts. 

“You should go back to school.” He said handing it to me. 

“W-What?” I asked shocked. 

“Y/N, love, just like Fred wouldn’t want me to be upset all the time, he wouldn’t want you to stay here with me when we both know that you want to go back.” He said and I bit my lip. 

“What about you?” I asked and he smiled. 

“You’ll be back for holidays, and once school is over.” He answered. 

“What about the store? You can’t run it all on your own.” I said and he chuckled. 

“Thanks for the confidence.” He said and I rolled my eyes. 

“You know what I meant!” I said and he laughed again. 

“I know love, which is why I asked Ron to come run it with me.” He said and my eyes widened, but I smiled. 

“And he agreed?” I asked and he nodded. 

“Yeah, he decided being an Auror isn’t for him.” He said and I smiled. 

“That’s great George!” I said and he pulled me towards him. 

“Now you can go back to school without having to worry about me.” He said and I blushed. 

“You honestly won’t be upset if I go?” I asked and he shook his head. 

“It’s the Ravenclaw in you, I swear you were born with a book in your hand.” He laughed and I joined him. 

“I love you.” I said and he smiled down at me. 

“I love you too Y/N.” He said and kissed me. Perhaps I wouldn’t have to put off my studies, besides I know Hermione would be going as well. 

“I’m going to miss you when I go.” I said and he smiled. 

“Then let’s make the most of your time before you go.” He said with a huge smile. I finally had my husband back, even if he wasn’t whole, but I don’t think he ever would be again. As long as he had that smile on his face everything would be okay.

Tag list: @les-bio-lie @tashy-bear @ashwarren32 @hollie-blogs-blog1 @schisbro87 @lover-of-books-and-teas @nerdygaloresposts @teenwolfbitches2 @genius2050​ @drw0301bieber @lady-of-lies @ravenmoore14 @ravenempress101​ @cillianchamp​ @rowanthomasknapp​ @rachelxwayne​ @in-slytherin-we-trust​ @accio-rogers​ @sambucky8​ @bruisedfists-and-splitlips @answer-the-sirens​ @andreasworlsboring101​ @vanessa-kom-skaikru​ @impulse-anchor​ 

#Harry Potter #harry potter imagine #george weasley #george wealsey imagine #george wealsey x reader #george weasley x ravenclaw!reader #george x fem!reader #george x y/n #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x fem!reader #george weasley x reader #fanfic #8th year #post war #harry potter bingo

[fanmoose12]

terrifyingly complicated

Levi and Hange come to a Halloween party, wearing a two-person costume. Everyone wonders what that can mean.

Working at a law firm was exhausting. It was also very stressing. And since he couldn’t get drunk in the middle of workday, Erwin had no choice, but to resort to another vice – smoking. Whenever the tension inside of him grew too intense to ignore (which happened rather frequently), Erwin took a pack of cigarettes and went outside. Feeling the smoke enter his lungs and then releasing it into the air, watching the white whiff dissolve into nothing calmed Erwin down better than anything.

During his smoke breaks, he was often accompanied by his co-workers. Mike joined him frequently. Moblit came a lot, too, especially when the stress of dealing with his troublesome superior Hange made him feel like tearing out his hair. As far as Erwin knew, Hange didn’t smoke. And even if she did, she never took breaks, too passionate about her work to let anything distract her. That is until Moblit, or sometimes Levi, didn’t make her rest. Moblit pleaded and bargained with her. Levi simple dragged her away from her desk.

Speaking of Levi, he was the one, who accompanied Erwin the most. He didn’t smoke that much, so Erwin suspected that Levi used the excuse of smoke breaks simply to get out of their noisy, bustling office.

This time, of course, he joined Erwin, as well.

"So, Levi," Erwin glanced at his friend. He lighted up a cigarette and passed the lighter to Levi. "Are you going to the office party this Friday?"

Erwin didn't actually expect an affirmative answer from Levi. If he could help it, Levi always stayed at home, preferring to keep his human interaction to a minimum. Recently, though, he started appearing at social gatherings more often. Erwin strongly suspected that a certain bespectacled co-worker of theirs was the reason for this sudden change.

Still, Halloween wasn't just another party, where everyone gets slightly drunk and bitches about their higher-ups. You have to wear a costume. And in all those years that Levi worked in their firm, he had never attended the Halloween party.

So what a surprise Erwin got, when Levi took a drag of his cigarette and then slowly nodded.

The cigarette almost slipped from between Erwin's fingers.

"You're coming?" he couldn't help, but ask again.

"Yes.”

"And... do you have a costume?"

"Frankenstein's monster," Levi replied nonchalantly.

Erwin openly stared at him. Was their conversation real? Or was it some kind of fever dream?

"F-frankenstein's monster?" he repeated, getting more and more worried about his sanity.

"Erwin, check your hearing," Levi grumbled. "Yes, I'll be a Frankenstein's monster, like from the novel, you know?"

Levi looked so calm, as though him not only attending a party, but also wearing a costume was a regular occurrence and not once in a lifetime event.

Erwin put a cigarette to his lips, inhaling deeply. Just one cigarette wasn't enough to get him through this bizarre conversation.

"So... if you're Frankenstein's monster...” Erwin said slowly, carefully. He still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that Levi will be at the party. “Will there be a Frankenstein?"

"Of course, there will be Frankenstein. It’s obviously four-eyes," Levi huffed. "Who else could it be?"

Who else indeed. Erwin felt like an idiot. Truly, there was only one person in this world, who could force Levi to do something like this.

But the question was... Did it mean something?

"Oi," Mike appeared outside, joining them, before Erwin could ask that question. "What are you two talking about?"

"Nothing," Levi answered immediately .

Erwin shared a look with Mike. "Hange and Levi are going together to the Halloween party."

"Oh," Mike raised his eyebrows. "You finally decided to let people know?"

Levi stared at him. "What the fuck are you talking about? What do we need to let people know? That Hange has an annoying ability to pester people until they agree to do what she wants them to? It is hardly news for anyone."

Ah. That was it. Erwin shook his head, he shouldn't have expected anything else. Levi and Hange were the most oblivious people in existence. Everyone in the office knew about their feelings for each other. Everyone, except Levi and Hange. Erwin often wondered how two people can be so smart and so stupid at the same time. These two were obviously made for each other.

"So you two..." Mike trailed off, trying to find the best words. With Levi and Hange, one had to be as concrete as possible. "...Er, you did not confess to each other?"

"Confessed about what?" Levi scowled. "You both are so weird today," he turned around, throwing the cigarette butt into the nearest trashcan. "Whatever, I'm going inside. You shouldn't stay long as well. Your brains have obviously started to freeze."

Raising the collar of his coat higher, Levi hurriedly made his way back inside.

Mike and Erwin watched him go, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

"I can't believe them," Mike muttered. "They're really doing a two-person costume, but they don't realize what people will think? Nanaba and I have never worn a couple costume, and we've been dating for four years!"

"It's an extremely difficult case," Erwin agreed with a sigh.

“You’re their boss, can’t you do something about it? Like order them to get their shit together and stop living in denial?” Mike asked almost desperately. “The stench of their pheromones is making me insane.”

Erwin looked up, lighting up another cigarette. “I don’t think anything can be done about it. We just have to wait and hope that they will realize it by themselves. Pushing them in that direction will only delay any possible development.”

“Jesus,” Mike shuddered. “These two are terrifyingly difficult.”

***

“Hey boss,” Nifa sat down at the edge of Hange’s desk with a cautious smile. Hange hated when someone interrupted her work. Unless that someone was Levi. Strangely, she didn’t seem to mind whenever he came up to her desk to engage in another round of meaningless bickering. Furthermore, Hange herself often took a break from her oh so precious work to go and find Levi, just so she could share some joke or pun with him. However, Nifa obviously was no Levi, so she had to resort to placating her superior with a cup of coffee.

If there was something Hange liked more than her work, it was coffee.

It seemed like Nifa’s plan was working out. Hange accepted the coffee, looking up at Nifa with a kind smile.

“Do you want something?” she murmured, taking a large gulp from the cup.

“Halloween is this Friday,” Nifa explained, tilting her head slightly. “What costume are you going to wear this year?”

Most of the people at their firm didn’t really bother with costumes. The majority just put on vampire teeth or painted their faces with fake blood and called it a day. Although this year, they had new interns, so maybe they would be able to spice things up a little. Personally, Nifa couldn’t wait to show off her Freddy Kruger costume.

And she was also dying to know what Hange was going to wear this year. She always went out of her way to come up with the most gorgeous and creative costumes. Last year she dressed up as a space pirate. And year before that she was a grim reaper. She even had a scythe! Nifa’s favorite, however, was that Halloween, when Hange wore a zombie costume. It was both disturbing and awesome – the look was completed by a part of brain, sticking out of Hange’s hair! She claimed that it was real, and Nifa, knowing her superior, wasn’t sure if she was joking or not.

“It’s nothing special this time,” Hange revealed. “A little boring even.”

“Oi, quit teasing,” Nifa chided. “Your costumes are never boring. So, what is it?”

“If you want to know so much,” Hange sighed, feigning indifference. However, a little twinkle in her eyes told Nifa that, despite her claims, Hange was excited about the costume. “I’m going as Frankenstein.”

“Frankenstein?” Nifa drew her eyebrows together. “Monster or a scientist?”

“Scientist.”

“Oh,” maybe, Hange was right after all. It did sound a little boring. “Why not a monster?”

“Levi is going to be my monster,” Hange confessed with a wide grin.

My monster?

Did that mean what Nifa thought it meant? She could ask Hange about it, of course, and she would probably answer, but still, asking her superior that kind of personal question felt a little too intrusive even for the great gossiper Nifa.

However, she could always take a less direct approach.

"I don't remember Levi ever attending the Halloween party," Nifa looked at Hange beneath her eyelashes. "It must have been hard to make him come this year."

"You bet it was," Hange agreed, pushing the glasses up on her head. "He had two conditions."

Nifa leaned closer. "What conditions?"

"Firstly, I have to learn how to brew tea the way he likes it."

That was.... so Levi, Nifa thought with an internal smile. Everyone in the office knew he was obsessed with tea. However, why did he need Hange to learn how to brew it? As far as Nifa knew, Levi didn't let anyone come near his precious tea stash. Was Hange an exception? If so, then why? Could it mean that they were much closer than just friends?

Still, it wasn't conclusive evidence. Nifa needed something more substantial.

"And secondly," Hange showed the exact number with her fingers. "Levi wants to wash my hair. He says it's dirty and sticky, and he hates the stench of my shampoo," Hange shrugged, while Nifa was too busy gaping at her. Levi wanted to wash her hair? Seemed a little too intimate even for the best friends.

"It isn't the worth deal," Hange continued, seemingly not seeing Nifa's bewilderment. "I mean Levi could have demanded to let him clean my apartment. He always complains that my sheets are too dirty."

How in the world Levi knew about the state of Hange’s sheets? There was only one possible explanation for this…

“So you and Levi are seeing each other?” Nifa finally asked. Screw the less direct approach. It clearly wasn’t working.

“Um, yes?” Hange frowned. “I do see Levi a lot. I mean we live in the same apartment complex and we often hang out after work, so…”

Nifa barely kept herself from groaning out loud. These two were impossible! She thought she was an expert in human interactions but these were terrifyingly complicated for her to figure out. They were either actually dating or they were the most oblivious people in existence. And Nifa suspected that the latter was, unfortunately, true.

"I... I have a lot of work," Nifa smiled apologetically and hopped off the table. The intricacies of relationship between Levi and Hange were causing her a headache.

“What did she mean by ‘seeing each other’?” Hange muttered to herself. “I know that Levi is short, but he’s not that small. Was that a hint that I should check my vision?” she wondered, putting her glasses back on her face and returning to her work.

*** 

"Why are you dressed like a snobby douche?" Connie asked Jean, as the latter approached him and Sasha. It was the evening of a Halloween party, and everyone gathered in the dimly lit and sparsely decorated with cobwebs and pumpkins main room, chatting among themselves.

"I'm Dracula, you idiot," Jean scoffed. "Besides, what are you even supposed to be?" he looked at Connie's face and body, covered in toilet paper. He plucked his lips in disgust. "Toilet monster?"

"Hey!" Connie cried out, while Sasha snickered in her palm. "I'm a mummy!"

Jean decided not to dignify it with a response.

"And you?” he turned to Sasha. “You are red riding hood, right?"

"Yes!" Sasha beamed. "Look! I even have a basket! Trick or treat, Jean!"

Sasha proudly showed him the aforementioned basket. It was full of sandwiches.

Jean sighed.

"Did you choose this costume just so you could sneak more food in here?"

"Maybe," Sasha shrugged, taking out one of the sandwiches and taking a bite. "Want some?"

"Um, no, thanks. Even if I wanted to," which he did not. Trying to separate Sasha and food was a dangerous affair. Jean had learned it firsthand. "I can't really eat with these things," he opened his mouth, showing them his fake fangs.

"Wow," Connie grinned. "There is even blood on them! Can I touch it?"

"No way!" Jean took a step back, putting his hands forward.

“Hey, look, look," Sasha tugged at Jean and Connie's arms. "Eren, Mikasa and Armin came."

"What the fuck." Jean stared at Eren, his hands clutching into fists. "That asshole, what the fuck is he wearing?"

"Oh, Jean, I think," Connie patted his shoulder. "Eren is Van Helsing."

"He is!" Sasha agreed, pointing at the wooden stake in Eren's hand.

"Motherfucker," Jean growled. "He knew I was going to dress as a vampire!"

"Calm down," Connie rolled his eyes. "And don't start another fight. At least wait until we're out of office."

"You can always beat him up in the parking lot!" Sasha giggled.

“Or, more probably, Mikasa will beat both of you up in the parking lot,” Connie mocked with a shit-eating grin. Sasha cheerfully high-fived him.

“Shut up, you idiots,” Jean gave them both a smack upside their heads. “I fucking hate that jerk," he muttered, glaring at Eren.

"His costume is nice, though," Connie noted.

"His mother probably helped to prepare it," Sasha nodded. "Armin looks adorable!" she added. "That Peter Pan costume suits him so much!"

"Looks like Mikasa isn't a fun of Halloween, though," Connie continued. "I mean what is she even supposed to be?"

"Maybe, a ghost?" Sasha offered, looking at Mikasa's white shirt and long skirt.

"If she wasn't constantly glued to Eren's side," Jean began bitterly. "I would have asked her to be my Morticia Addams."

"She would rock that look," Sasha said with a dreamy smile. "Although, you're nearly not as handsome as Gomez."

"Hey!" Jean protested. "I would have been great as Gomez. And you," he smirked. "You could have been Wednesday and Pugsley."

"Eugh," Sasha and Connie exclaimed in unison.

"Now I'm kinda glad that Mikasa rejected you," Sasha told him truthfully.

"Shut up,” Jean mumbled.

"By the way," Sasha opened another sandwich and started eating it. "Did any of you see Historia? I'm curious what is she wearing. Her costumes are always so cute!"

"She's dressed as Princess Leia," Connie replied. "She even has her own Han Solo."

"Let me guess," Jean said. "It's Ymir?"

"Of course, it's Ymir. Although, calling her Han Solo may be a stretch, she's just wearing her usual work clothes, but now she also put a vest on."

"Ah, I want to come and say hi!" Sasha announced with her mouth still full of sandwich. "Where have you seen them, Connie?"

Connie made a face. "Last time I saw them, Ymir was dragging Historia to a supply closet, so..."

"Oh."

"Yeah, I don't think they'll come out soon."

"Oi, look," Jean pointed at the entrance door. "That's Miss Hange."

"What is she supposed to be?" Connie scratched his neck, frowning in confusion. "Some kind of scientist?"

"No, she's Frankenstein," Jean replied.

"Now how did you guess that?" Connie asked, glaring up at Jean.

Jean didn't say anything, just showed Connie who was accompanying Hange.

"Oh." Connie breathed out.

"Oh!" Sasha exclaimed. "Who is that?”

Jean sighed.

“Sasha, pay attention please. Look at that guy’s height.”

“No way!” Sasha’s eyes widened. “It’s Mr. Ackerman?”

“I didn’t take him for a guy, who dresses up for a Halloween,” Connie mused.

“Neither did I,” Jean agreed.

“Hey, if they came together, does that mean they’re dating?” Sasha cocked her head to the side, observing the strange couple.

“Don’t know,” Jean shrugged. “I thought it was just some kind of a running joke.”

“Let’s go to them!” Sasha wrapped her arms around Jean and Connie’s shoulders, pushing them in the direction of Levi and Hange.

“Are you insane?” Jean hissed. “What are you even going to say to them?”

If Miss Hange was by herself, Jean wouldn’t have minded approaching her. She was nice, and really funny. Mr. Ackerman, on the other hand, was the complete opposite. Whenever their eyes met, Jean felt an acute desire to hide under the table. Levi’s cold gaze terrified him.

“We won’t be talking to them,” Sasha assured him, leading them through the crowd of people. “I just want to take a better look. Mr. Ackerman’s make-up is amazing!”

Well, it was hard to argue with that. Levi wore a torn shirt and large jacket. His face was painted green with a few black stitches added on the side of his forehead. Jean had to admit, his costume was actually impressive. And Miss Hange, who was dressed in a white lab coat, which was purposefully dirtied with red and pink specks that were probably meant to represent the blood and parts of brain, with her big round glasses, crazy hair and even crazier grin, was a perfect Frankenstein. 

“Just be quiet,” Jean warned his friends, as they stopped a little distance away from Hange and Levi. “I don’t want to get in trouble with Mr. Ackerman.”

Connie and Sasha nodded and then the three of them turned their gazes at Frankenstein and her monster.

Hange and Levi stood in a corner, holding plastic cups in their hands. Hange was talking about something, energetically gesticulating. Her hands moved so wildly it looked like soon she’d spill the contents of her cup on the floor. Levi sighed and took the cup out of her hands. Hange smiled gratefully.

“Wait,” she stopped her rant and turned to face Levi. “Your make-up is smudged,” she reached out and moved her thumb across his cheekbone, gently wiping the paint.

“Of course, it’s smudged,” Levi grumbled with annoyed face. “It’s hot as fuck in here. Why there are so many people?”

“Because our firm is big?” Hange offered with a tiny grin.

Levi tsked. “Smartass. By the way, when was the last time you cleaned your glasses? I can see nothing but your fingerprints, four-eyes,” he plucked them off her face, scowling in disgust. Tugging at Hange’s coat, Levi used it to clean her glasses. Hange didn’t even try to protest, just watched Levi’s ministrations with an affectionate smile.

Jean, Connie and Sasha stared at them with wide eyes.

“They act so…” Connie began and then faltered.

“Domestic,” Jean finished for him. “Geez, they really are together.”

“I’ve never thought I’d say this about Mr. Ackerman,” Sasha admitted. “But they look adorable.”

“They do,” Connie agreed.

“C’mon,” Jean took Sasha and Connie by their sleeves. “Let’s leave them alone. I still need to settle a score with Eren.”

 ***

"Ymir, stop it," Historia hissed, trying to shake her girlfriend's hands off her waist. "People are watching."

"Let them watch," Ymir smirked, putting her chin on top of Historia's head. "They're just envious."

"You're insufferable," Historia huffed. She raised her head to press a kiss on Ymir's jaw. "Why do I even put up with you?"

"Because I'm hot? Because I'm hilarious? Because I'm excellent in bed?"

"Ymir!" A pretty blush appeared on Historia's cheeks. Ymir mentally patted herself on a head.

"Babe," she drew out, leaning to kiss behind Historia's earlobe. Ymir's hot breath made shivers run down her neck. "Let's ditch this party and go back to that closet. I'm so bored here."

"But look around!" Historia exclaimed, trying to ignore the growing desire inside her. "Everyone is dressed so nicely!"

"I don't really care, you know."

"You should," Historia muttered with a small pout. "Our friends came up with really original costumes!"

Ymir scoffed. "Kirschtein is dressed as Dracula. And Mikasa is the worst ghost I've ever seen. She could have put at least some effort."

"You're the one to talk," Historia rolled her eyes. "Putting on a black vest doesn't make you Han Solo."

"The costume itself doesn't matter, when I have the most important thing," Ymir lowered her voice to a seductive whisper. "My pretty Princess Leia."

"And our superiors picked cool outfits as well," Historia continued, ignoring Ymir. She wouldn't let her break her resolve so easily. They came to enjoy the party, not make out in supply closets. Even if the latter option started to look more and more appealing to Historia.

"Mr. Smith came as Indiana Jones!" she pointed at the tall blonde. "Doesn't he look handsome?"

"Yeah," Ymir replied unenthusiastically.

"And Mr. Zacharias! He's dressed as Thor!"

Ymir tilted her head, staring at Mike critically. He wore a cheap looking blonde wig and something that looked like more like red blanket than actual cape. "He's a mighty god of thunder, indeed," she deadpanned.

Historia ignored her once again.

"Miss Nanaba looks so pretty," she mused instead.

This time Ymir couldn't disagree. Nanaba was probably supposed to be Jack Skellington. And while the white make-up on her face was ridiculous, the suit fitted her perfectly, accentuating every curve of her thin but muscled body.

"What," Historia teased. "No sarcastic comment?"

Ymir shrugged. "You know how much I love women in suit."

"Asshole," Historia muttered, rolling her eyes.

“That's why you love me, babe."

Sometimes Ymir was so annoying, Historia thought as she stared at her cocky grin. It made her want to kiss her, just so she could wipe that smug expression off her face.

"I don't see Miss Hange by the way," Historia looked around in confusion. "I wanted to see her costume so much..."

Again, Ymir agreed with her girlfriend on that one. Hange was a lunatic, there was no denying that, and her excited energy was truly draining, but she was funny. Most of all, Ymir enjoyed watching Hange bicker with Levi, that permanently scowling midget. It was nice to see that shorty grit his teeth in annoyance, as Hange continuously teased him.

"Nifa told me that her costumes are always amazing," Historia hanged her head. "And Mr. Ackerman is absent as well..."

Well, that wasn't surprising in a slightest. Levi was definitely not the type to come to office parties.

"Forget about them. It's Halloween," Ymir kissed Historia’s cheek, trying to cheer her up. "I need my treat."

"You are really needy, are you aware of that?" Historia asked with a stern expression.

Ymir shrugged. Sure, she loved receiving attention from her super-hot girlfriend. If that made her needy, then so be it.

"That's a yes to a second round of make out session in the closet?"

Historia frowned, biting her lip. "What if this time someone catches us?"

"Who could catch us? I doubt that other interns will need that closet, unless Kirschtein and Yeager suddenly decide to let out their frustration with each other in a more productive manner than just screaming and waving their fists around. And everyone else here is clearly too boring and old to indulge in such activities."

"Fine," Historia finally surrendered. "But we won't stay there for long. I want to chat with some of our friends afterwards."

Ymir certainly didn't share the same sentiment, but, well, love is built on compromises, right?

She grabbed Historia by the hand, leading her to a closet with a wide grin on her face. Turning her around and holding her face between her palms, Ymir kissed her on the lips. With her back against the door, she pushed it open with her leg.

Historia froze.

"Babe?" worry reflected in Ymir's eyes, as she stared at her. Did she do something wrong?

Historia said nothing, just frantically pulled Ymir closer and then quietly closed the door. She didn't stop, and with her hands wrapped still around Ymir, Historia dragged her as far from the closet as possible.

"Hey, hey, what's up?" Ymir was barely able to keep up with Historia's hurried steps.

"There was someone in the closet," Historia whispered with a terrified expression.

"Someone?" Ymir frowned. "Who?"

"I don't know, I didn't get a good look, and the costumes really made it hard to recognize the faces," she pushed a stray lock behind her hair, her gaze darting around nervously.

"What were the costumes?" Ymir asked impatiently. Oh, she wanted to know who was making out in the closer so much! If she finds out, she'd tease that couple so hard!

"I... I think it was Frankenstein and his monster? I definitely saw a white coat and a green make-up.”

"Frankenstein and his monster?" Ymir snickered. "If I knew that the book portrayed that side of their relationship, I would have read it in high school."

"Ymir!" Historia scolded, smacking her forearm.

"Wait..." Ymir drew her eyebrows together, thinking. She scanned the crowd of her co-workers, checking her theory. "There are only two people who are absent from the party..."

"No way..." Historia breathed out, coming to the same conclusion. "Are you trying to say that it was Miss Hange and Mr. Ackerman?"

"Well, it looks that midget is getting his treat this Halloween. Good for him," Ymir said cheekily. "Let's go and tell these nerds about it."

"You want to tell everyone?" Historia looked at her worriedly. She looked so cute with her pursed lips and that little frown, Ymir's heart skipped a beat.

"Sure," she replied nonchalantly, trying to hide from Historia the fact that just a moment ago she was staring adoringly at her. "It's not like it'd be a secret to anyone. The way they constantly looked at each other, it was only a matter of time before they got their shit together."

"Alright, but let's not tell them how we found them in a supply closet."

"You're too kind," Ymir sighed, throwing a hand over Historia's shoulder. "But if you don't want to make them jealous, so be it."

Historia rolled her eyes, but couldn't resist the desire to press a swift kiss in the corner of Ymir's smirk. "Let's go already."

***

When almost half an hour later, Levi and Hange came back to the party, all eyes were on them. Hange's hair was in bigger state of disarray than usual and Levi's lips were red and swollen.

"I helped Levi fix the make-up," Hange explained, when they joined Erwin, Mike and Nanaba.

"Isn't a closet a little dark for that?" Erwin asked with a smirk. Beside him Nanaba and Mike could barely held in their laughter.

Levi's blush was visible even under the green paint. Hange nervously chuckled. None of them tried to deny it though. 

Erwin, Mike and Nanaba counted it as a success. 

#so........ yeah #this is it lmao #is it halloween enough??? #also shout out to @lonelypalmtree ???? #for helping pick the costumes for hange and levi lmao #levihan #levi ackerman #hange zoe #levi x hange #levihan fanfiction #ymir snk #historia reiss #yumihisu #jean kirstein #sasha braus #connie springer #erwin smith #mike zacharius

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hello! I haven't really been in Johnlock scene, but I suddenly had a MIGHTY NEED for mutual pining between the two, and your fic recs delivered in the best possible way. I thank you from the bottom of my heart for sharing so much about these two! (and now it seems I'm lost to Johnlock, send help, but not really, this is awesome)

Hi Nonny!!

AHhhhh thank you for your kind words about my lists!!! I’m so happy you enjoy!!

You’re in luck, my friend!! I have a Part 2 list of my Mutual pining fics with enough to start a new list, so here we are!! Also, if you’re interested in exclusive pining, I’ve a part 2 to my Pining Sherlock list in its final stages of cleanup, so keep an eye out for that one!! <3 Enjoy!!

MUTUAL PINING Pt. 2

See also:

Mutual Pining Pt 1 

Pining Sherlock || [MOBILE FRIENDLY VERSION]

Pining John

One Sided Pining

Santa Knows by Itsallfine (T, 1,719 w., 1 Ch. || Christmas Party, Love Confessions, First Kiss, Fluff, Matchmaking, POV Sherlock, Pining Sherlock) – Sherlock and John both get exactly what they want from the Yard's secret Santa exchange. Pure holiday fluff.

Like Euphoria and Scotch by FinAmour (M, 1,856 w., 1 Ch. || TSo3 Fix It, Five and Ones, Drinking, Pining, Second Person POV Sherlock, Armchair Sex, Cracky and Fluff, Sherlock’s Imagination, Happy Ending) – 5 different ways it all could have gone + the one way it actually works itself out.

Hell or High water by bluefire301175 (E, 2,250 w., 1 Ch. || PWP, Frottage, Alley Sex, First Person POV John, Case-ish Fic, Mutual Pining, Bed Sharing) – John wants. Sherlock wants. Plain and simple.

To the Nines by suitesamba (M, 2,724 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Magical Realism, Pining, Angst, John Whump, Time Travel, Fortunes, Time Jumps) – John skips forward in time, and Sherlock reads the signs that point to nine. John knows he’ll eventually be with Sherlock, but the waiting is nearly impossible, and his body is a lot more than transport. A foray into magical realism where all the canon events occur, and a hell of a lot more.

Better Late Than Never by sussexbound (NR (T), 3,021 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S4 / TFP Doesn’t Exist, Sherlock POV, Love Confessions, Drunk Sherlock / Sober John, John Takes Care of Sherlock, First Kiss, Jealous Sherlock, Emotional Turmoil) – He suddenly wants John Watson out of his bedroom, out of his flat, out of his life, because he has been lying to himself these last few months, he realises. He doesn’t want John here, not with the way things are. He doesn’t want 221b Baker Street to be nothing more than rest stop John returns to on his journeys between women. He doesn’t want to play co-parent if Rosie is going to be snatched away from him and placed in the arms of whatever nameless woman du jour John lands on next. He doesn’t want to keep being so careful, so generous, so, so…

The General Idea by agirlsname (T, 3,022 w., 1 Ch. || Retirement, Promise of Forever / Proposal, POV John, First Kiss, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Soft Sherlock, Idiots in Love, Crying / Emotional Sherlock, Love Confessions) – After twenty years of friendship, John is used to Sherlock acting weirdly. But the news Sherlock finally brings himself to deliver change the carefully built dynamics between them, and John realises it's time to act.

Bathroom Accessories by Evenlodes_Friend (E, 3,324 w., 1 Ch. || Sex Toys, Butt Plug, First Kiss / Time, Romance, Horny Sherlock, John’s Patience Wears Thin, Humour, Bottomlock) – John discovers that Sherlock has been playing with some very adult toys in the bath.

Apodyopsis by QuinnAnderson (E, 3,347 w., 1 Ch. || PWP, Rough Sex, Table Sex, Anal, Sexual Tension) – Apodyopsis: (æpəʊdaɪˈɒpsɪs) noun. the act of mentally undressing someone. Part 2 of Undressed

Sherlock and John Go Clubbing by wendymarlowe (E, 4,716 w., 3 Ch. || Clubbing, Dirty Talk, Dancing, Coming Untouched, Coming in Pants, Bi John, For a Case, Friends to Lovers, Flirting, Sherlock is Lost for Words, Sexy John, Mutual Pining, Possessive John, Floor Sex) – John pinched the bridge of his nose - even for Sherlock, this was a new level of no bloody boundaries. “You want me to go with you to a gay club, wait around twiddling my thumbs while I let you get pawed by a criminal, then out-flirt him and talk you into coming home with me instead?” Part 32 of John and Sherlock's Kinky First Times

Sleeping next to you by Salambo06 (E, 5,018 w., 2 Ch. || ASiB Fic, Bed Sharing, Frottage, Mutual Masturbation, Rimming, Anal, First Kiss/Time) – Based on an Anonymous Prompt: "So, that scene from ASiB when Mrs H has been attacked by the American CIA guy & John, Sherlock & she are in Mrs H's kitchen when John says "She’ll have to sleep upstairs in our flat tonight. We need to look after her." to which Sherlock replies with "no". John of course suggested that because he cares about her safety, but maybe he also did it cause he /wanted/ that to happen. What if they finally agreed on letting her have John's or Sherlock's bed & J&S sleep in the same one?" Part 12 of Tumblr Collection

Stranded by BeautifulFiction (T, 5,798 w., 1 Ch. || First Kiss, Communication / Relationship Discussion, Pining Sherlock, Sherlock POV, BAMF John, Doctor John, Case Fic, Drinking, Huddling For Warmth, Friends to More) –  When stranded on a derelict barge at high tide, John and Sherlock reconsider their friendship.

An Interpretation of Viewing Habits by akitsuko (E, 6,653 w., 1 Ch. || Porn Watching, Masturbation, Anal, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss / Time, Declarations of Love, Jealous Sherlock, Fantasizing, John in Denial / Internalized Homophobia, Bottomlock, Pining Idiots, Sherlock Has No Boundaries, Cockblocking Sherlock) – John watches porn. It's a perfectly normal thing to do.If every video he watches happens to feature actors with remarkable physical similarities to his flatmate, well, that's no one's business but his own. Or: John is in denial, until his infatuation with Sherlock is impossible to deny anymore.

Time on my hands by Mildredandbobbin (M, 7,179 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-S3, One Night Stands, Mutual Pining, Virgin Sherlock, First Time, Sexual Exploration / Discovery, Desperation, Body Worship) – Virginity’s a construct, a concept—what does losing one’s virginity entail for a gay man anyway? Sherlock wants to fill that particular gap in his knowledge but John won’t, can’t, never will assist and there’s only so much desperately unspoken pining even Sherlock can take.

Unwasted by patternofdefiance (E, 8,966 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S3 / S3 Fix-It, Developing Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Angelo’s, Fluff, First Time, Anal, Cum Play, Flashbacks to ASiB, Mutual Pining, Love Confessions, Bottomlock, Cuddles, Multiple Orgasms, BJ’s, Bed Sharing) – John finds it three months after he's moved back. He's on the hunt for something to make for dinner, is scrounging through the cupboards, when he happens upon the graveyard of pasta boxes Sherlock still seems to create when left to his own devices. Behind seven boxes of pasta, all almost completely empty, is a dark-glassed bottle, with a paler coat of dust.It's unopened. John's face falls slack when he sees it, instantly recognises it, and for a long moment he just stands and looks at it.

You fit me, Sherlock Holmes by orphan_account (G, 10,077 w., 1 Ch. || It’s An Experiment, Bed Sharing, Slow Burn, Fluff and Angst, Idiots in Love, Mutual Pining, Questionable Science) – An unfortunate series of events leads to John accepting being a part of Sherlock's study in physical intimacy. As the days pass by, John realizes he might be in for more than he bargained for. He doesn't entirely mind.

There's So Much Labour Just in Breathing Lately by Susan (E, 12,708 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TRF / Mentions of S3 Events, Romance, Angst, Grief/Mourning, Grieving John, Mutual Pining, Meddling Mycroft, Therapy, Ambiguous Hopeful Ending, Infidelity) – The dreams he hated most – the ones that left him a sweating, shaking mess when he woke – were the ones in which Sherlock was just Sherlock. Laughing or drinking tea. Sitting across the table from him at Angelo’s eating pasta. Trailing his open hand behind him on the way to the bedroom. “C’mon, John. I’m about to have my way with you.”

Fucking Cake by Random_Nexus (E, 12,965 w., 1 Ch. || Pre-Slash, Humour/Crack, Inanimate Object Smut, Frottage, “For a Case” / “Experiment”, PWP / Kinky, Mutual Pining, Fluff) – Sherlock brings home a chocolate cake, John finds him about to have sex with said cake, then exceedingly weird hijinx ensue. Part 1 of "Fucking Baked Goods" - Sherlock BBC

Kintsugi by distantstarlight (E, 14,772 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Regret / Remorse, Loneliness, Separation, Drug Use, Healing, Protective John, Sad Sherlock, Dev. Rel., Complicated Relationships, Love, Angst With Happy Ending, Sherlock is Called Freak, John’s Penance, Voyeurism, Doctor/Caretaker John, Guilty John, Detox, Fingering, Love Confessions, Cuddling, Slight Non-Con Turns Enthusiastic Consent, Virgin Sherlock) – Sherlock Holmes becomes estranged from the man he had once considered his best friend after John lets him down horribly in public. It seems that the world's only consulting detective will be on his own once again...or will he?

The Palmyra Atoll by elwinglyre (E, 16,609 w., 3 Ch. || TSo3 Divergence / Episode Fix-It, Stockholm Syndrome, Kidnapped John Watson, John Whump, Evil Mary, Angst, Cuddling & Snuggling, Toplock, Limited 3rd John POV) – As John's preparing for the wedding, Sherlock is preparing to have his heart broken, and Mary is prepared to do the unthinkable. Intervention required. Enter Sherlock. Set before Sign of Three with a far different outcome. John is drugged, kidnapped, and left on an island, but not just any old island.

Traitor's Gate by roane (E, 17,714 w., 6 Ch. || Post-TRF, Case Fic, Mystery, Bets and Wagers, Undercover for a Case, BAMF John, Scientist Sherlock, Teasing, Established Relationship, Military Base, Sexting/Texting, Military/Uniform Kink, Frottage, Dirty Sex, Anal, Bottomlock) – John and Sherlock go undercover at a top secret government lab to find out who is selling research. John is back in uniform and Sherlock is back in a laboratory, but they have to pose as strangers. Sherlock thinks he'll have an easy time of it, but John has his doubts. It's up to them to find out who is responsible for putting a dangerous weapon in the wrong hands, and try to keep their hands off each other at the same time.

Between Friends by SilentAuror (E, 18,036 w., 1 Ch. || Post S3, Alternating POV, Friends to Lovers, John in Denial, Abduction, Awkward Situations / Miscommunications, Porn With Feels, Blowjobs, Pining, Unrequited, Angst With Happy Ending) – Sherlock gets abducted. As John discovers him tied up naked in an empty storage facility and comes to rescue him, Sherlock's body has an unfortunate reaction which triggers a series of events. John is convinced that everything will be fine as long as they never discuss it. Sherlock isn't as sure...

I Think I've Come A Long Long Way To Sit Before You Here Today by ArwenKenobi (T, 18,251 w., 3 Ch. || Grief/Mourning, Passage of Time, Major Character Death, Alternating POV, Sherlock Whump, Pining Sherlock, Hospitalization, Coma, Revenge Murders, Hallucinations, Love Confessions, Brutal Accident, Mystrade, Ghost John) – One year after John is killed Sherlock starts to wonder whether John has actually gone anywhere.

Permanent Fixture by vitruvianwatson (E, 18,836 w., 9 Ch || Post-S4, Parentlock, Slow Build, Friends to Lovers, They’re Good Parents, Blushing Sherlock, First Kiss/Time, Explicit Consent, Sexual Content, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Big Feelings, Crying, First Kiss, Fluff, Anxious Sherlock, Inexperienced Sherlock, Emotional Communication, Love Confessions) – Now, as Rosie sat curled up against Sherlock’s side, John watched and wondered exactly how he had ended up here. Domesticity had never suited him before, not at any point in his life. His disastrous marriage had been proof of that. But somehow, here in the warmth and safety of 221B Baker Street, here with Sherlock Holmes reading medical jargon to his daughter, Sherlock’s bony feet nudging against his leg, John couldn’t imagine anyplace that would make him happier.

You're On the Air by prettysailorsoldier (M, 20,616 w., 1 Ch. || Unilock, Matchmaking, Radio, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Sherlock POV, Pining Sherlock, Flirting, Bisexual John) – The Consulting Detective and The Woman dominate the airwaves of their university radio station, doling out advice on everything from meeting the parents to sexual positions. When their ratings start to dip before the holidays, however, manager Mike thinks it's time for some fresh blood, and who better to fill in the gaps than rugby captain--and notorious flirt--John Watson? Part 1 of 25 Days of Johnlock

Silhouettes by allonsys_girl (E, 28,585 w., 7 Ch. || Canon Compliant, POV John, Heavy Drinking, Sad/Depressed John, Grief/Mourning, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Reunion, Foot Jobs, Blow Jobs, Infidelity, Cheating, Drug Use/Abuse, Anal, Switchlock, Rimming, Parentlock) – Sherlock and John find comfort in each other's arms, but as ever with these two, it's not your typical relationship. It's fluffy at the beginning, gets deeply angsty in the middle, gets porny at the end.

we have never seen a greater day than this by Lediona (T, 36,420 w., 7 Ch. || A Royal Night Out AU || WWII / VE Day, Prince Sherlock, Soldier John, Alternating POV, First Kiss, Bittersweet Ending, Homophobia, Dancing) – Peace. At long last. It’s VE Day and Prince William desires to join the celebrations. It is a night of excitement, danger and the first flutters of romance.

Nothing to Make a Song About by emmagrant01 (E, 36,833 w., 10 Ch. || Post-TRF, First Time, Reunion, Jealous John, Pining Sherlock, Romance, Angst with Happy Ending) – When Sherlock returned from his faked death, John could not forgive him for the deception and broke off their friendship. Ten years later, John returns to London in search of yet another new beginning. Sherlock, not surprisingly, is waiting.

Sentenced by SarahKnight (T, 44,777 w., 30 Ch. || Dev. Rel., Alternate S4 Canon, Drama, Angst, Pining, Feelings are Hard) – Virtual series 4 opener. Sherlock's in prison being targeted by a murderer, John's married to a pregnant assassin and Moriarty's back.

Impossible to Feign by achray (M, 49,204 w., 12 Ch. || TRF Rewrite / Reverse Reichenbach, Suicidal Ideations / Discussions, Drug Use/Abuse, Mutual Pining, Friends With Benefits, John Accepts his Sexuality, Anxious Sherlock, Meddling Mycroft, Depression, Hallucinations, Secret Agent John, BAMF John, Reunion, Make-Up Sex, Ambiguous Ending) – Sherlock leant forward, his long fingers curving round to grip John’s.“I won’t let him win,” he said, eyes hard. “I will do whatever it takes to get you out.”

The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse by SilentAuror (E, 50,635 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S4/S4 Divergence, Case Fic, For a Case / Reverse Fake-Relationship, Conferences, Marriage Equality, Travelling / New York, Pride, Homophobia, Bottomlock, Marriage Proposal, John POV, Sexuality, Love Confessions, Emotional Love Making, Public Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Passionate Kissing, Needy/Clingy Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Touching / Hand Holding, Bed Sharing, Little Spoon Sherlock, Intense Orgasms) – John and Sherlock go to New York to attend a conference run by the National Defence of Traditional Marriage Coalition in order to investigate the potential bombing of the annual Manhattan Pride parade. As the conference unfolds, John finds himself repulsed by the toxic ideology being presented, which becomes relevent to his own unacknowledged issues and his friendship with Sherlock...

Never Change a Running System by Lorelei_Lee (E, 54,246 w., 18 Ch. || Pre-TRF, Romance, Humour, Drama, Sex Toys, Anal, Rimming, Masturbation, Frottage, Blow Jobs, Public Sex, First Kiss / Time, Virgin Sherlock / Loss of Virginity, Accidental Voyeurism, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Experiments, Naive Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock, Possessive Sherlock, Straight With an Exception John, Hand Jobs) – Sherlock discovers his sexuality – with far-reaching consequences for John.

A Hundred Crimson Sols by elldotsee (E, 55,536 w., 16 Ch. || Astronauts AU || Mars Exploration / Space Travel, Slow Burn, Shy Sherlock, Scientist Sherlock / Biomed Engineer John, Alternating POV, Mutual Pining, UST, Angst with Happy Ending, Domestic Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Injuries, Suicidal Ideation, Zero-G Sex) – Will Holmes is a chemical researcher recognized widely for his contributions to the new Mars exploration program. Thanks to his ground-breaking developments, the IMMC (International Mars Mission Corporation) is one step closer to Martian colonization. Will and his team of scientists are headed out on the first of three manned missions before the first group of settlers arrive. Three days before launch, one of the crew has to be replaced. Will panics because...new people. The replacement is of course one John Watson, biomedical engineer and space hottie who was pretty sure he had retired from actual space exploration and was now content to work in the nice, quiet research lab. Can the crew survive this TOTALLY ROUTINE trip? Will they be able to endure each other for the looooooong trip in close quarters? Gonna be a wild ride... prepare for blast off. Part 1 of the SpaceBois go to Space series

The Thing Is by TSylvestris (E, 56,743 w., 21 Ch. || Case Fic, Dev. Rel., Anal/Oral, Blow Jobs, Meddling Mycroft, Drama, Romance, Humour, Casual Encounters, Pining Idiots, Possessive Sherlock, Orgasm Delay, Rough / Alley Sex, Public Sex, John Whump, Drugged John, Emotional Love Making, Awkward Relationship, Marriage of Convenience, Switchlock) – The problem with living with Sherlock, John thought, was that you never, never, ever knew the significance of anything. Like your flatmate's nose buried in your hair. Whilst you're in bed. Part 1 of Nitroglycerine

Lunar Landscapes by J_Baillier (M, 57,046 w., 21 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || S3/TAB Fix-It, Slow Burn Angst, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Confessions, Drugs, Pain, Medical, Injury, Sherlock Whump, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, Romance, Secrets, Tragedy, Trauma, BAMF John, Doctor!John, Drug Addict Sherlock, Injured Sherlock, Grieving John, Idiots In Love, Protective John, POV John Watson, PTSD Sherlock, Sherlock is a Mess, Medical Realism) – An accident forces John to face the fact that Sherlock's downward spiral had started long before his flight to exile even left the tarmac.

One Little Change by jadztone (E, 58,312 w., 12 Ch. || ASiB Divergence, Fake Relationship, Bed Sharing, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss / Time, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bi John / Gay Demisexual Sherlock, Switchlock, Alternating POV, Jealousy, Misunderstandings, Case Fic, Angst with Happy Ending, Emotional Love Making, Butt Plugs, Cuddles) – Our story begins right after John and Sherlock's first meeting with Irene Adler in September. It splits off into an AU that imagines them taking a case where they act as bait to hook a killer targeting closeted gays in secret relationships. In the weeks leading up to Christmas, many things happen that have our boys wondering if maybe they have a chance with each other. Then Irene fakes her death on Christmas Eve, and things get a lot more complicated - especially since they still have a killer to catch.

The Burning by SrebrnaFH (M, 60,658 w., 24 Ch. || Reverse Reichenbach, Suicide, Depression, Hurt Sherlock / John, Separation, BAMF John, Good Big Brother Mycroft, Angst, Implied/Referenced Torture, Fake Character Death, Rescue Mission, Reconciliation / Reunion, Hospitalization, Marriage Proposal, Illnesses, Physical Therapy, Happily Ever After) – Something went very, very wrong. John had seemed, if not happy, then reasonably content with his life. Sherlock had never predicted something like THIS might have happened. Not in his worst nightmares. He was the lousiest friend ever, apparently. At least Mycroft found him something to occupy his mind with, so that he didn't have to go back to 221B and stare at the walls and the chair, where John Watson would never sit again.

Hell Sent, Heaven Bound by ConsultingHound (M, 64,381 w, 16 Ch. || Angels / Demons AU ||  Fallen Angel Sherlock / Angel Cop John, Alternate First Meeting, Slow Burn, Case Fic, John & Lestrade are Friends Before Sherlock, BAMF John, Mind Palace John, Friends to Lovers, John in Denial, Sherlock Picks Out John’s Clothing, Clubbing / Dancing, Mildly Jealous John, Awkwardness, Kidnapping, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Sacrifice, Worried / Anxious Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, Immortal to Mortal) – Ex-War healer and current angelic guard John Watson is not having the best day. He overslept, he’s underpaid, and now there’s someone tagging the Council’s building walls. However things may be about to get interesting: there’s an unusual stranger hanging around (the definition of tall, dark, and handsome), a literal underground cult is brewing, and rumblings are coming from hell. Can he keep his neighbourhood safe, how and why is he being connected to all this, and who the hell is Sherlock Holmes?

The Vapor Variant by 88thParallel (CanadaHolm) (M, 72,684 w., 18 Ch. || Post-THoB, John Whump, Protective Sherlock, Guilty Sherlock, Anxious/Worried Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, PTSD John, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Suspense, Virus, Sickfic, Big Brother Mycroft) – They stood face to face in the middle of a clearing. The dim light of the moon barely allowed Sherlock to see the glassy terror in John’s eyes and the sweat that glistened off his forehead. His nose was bleeding again, blood dripping in a slow stream from his right nostril. They were both gasping for air, John’s eyes locked on Sherlock’s. There was no recognition there, just wild animal fear. Time stood still for an eternal few seconds, and Sherlock took a shaky breath. “John—”Spell broken, John spun and bolted back into the woods. Still heaving for air, Sherlock took off after him.

Northwest Passage by Kryptaria (E, 95,157 w., 27 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Canadian AU ||  BAMF!John, Canadian John, PTSD, Anal / Oral Sex, Rimming, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Drug Rehab, Falling in Love, Pining Sherlock, Love Confessions, Sherlock’s Violin, Panic Attacks, Switching, Anxious / Protective Sherlock, Hugs for Comfort, Suicide Mentions, Healing Each Other) – Seven years ago, Captain John Watson of the Canadian Forces Medical Service withdrew from society, seeking a simple, isolated life in the distant northern wilderness of Canada. Though he survives from one day to the next, he doesn't truly live until someone from his dark past calls in a favor and turns his world upside-down with the introduction of Sherlock Holmes." Part 1 of Tales from the Northwest

31_Days_of_Porn_Challenge_2017 Series by distantstarlight (E, 96,540 w. across 31 stories || Prompt Ficlets, Assorted Kinks, PWP) – A collection in response to the 31 Days of Porn Challenge issued by AtlinMerrik! Thanks for doing that because this has been buttload of fun (that joke never gets old). All stories will be brief stand-alone one-shots.

A Study in Winning by Jupiter_Ash (E, 106,658 w., 11 Ch. || Tennis AU || John POV, Dirty Talk, Mutual Pining, Misunderstandings, Happy Ending, Sherlock Speaks French, Switchlock, Wimbledon) – John and Sherlock are professional tennis players and it’s Wimbledon. One is a broken almost was at the end of his career, the other an arrogant rising star tipped for greatness. It should have been a straightforward tournament. It really should have been. How were they to know that a chance encounter would change everything? Part 1 of Tennis

Two Two One Bravo Baker by abundantlyqueer (E, 114,574 w., 27 Ch. || Military AU || Afghanistan, War Story, Thriller) – Captain John Watson of 40 Commando, the Royal Marines, is assigned to protect and assist Sherlock Holmes as he investigates what appears to be a simple war atrocity in Afghanistan. An intense attraction ignites between the two men as they uncover a conspiracy that threatens everything they’ve ever known, but Sherlock is as much hunted as hunter, and everyone close to him is in deadly danger. Can he solve the case in time to save himself and John? Part 1 of Two Two One Bravo Baker Universe

A Further Sea by i_ship_an_armada & ShinySherlock (E, 125,492 w., 23 Ch. || Historical Pirates AU || Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Doctor John / Pirate Captain Sherlock, Sailing, UST / RST, Masturbation, Action / Adventure, Mild Angst & Peril, Romance, Shaving, Molly/Janine, Bottomlock, Hand / Blow Jobs, Past Drug Use, Slow Burn, Mild Violence, Happy Ending) – Here be a tale of adventure for both body and soul, but beware if ye be not of stout heart, for this be piratelock, ya savvy? Luckless ship's surgeon John Watson takes a chance, and finds himself eye to eye with The Ghost, the scourge of the seven seas and a definite thorn in the side of the blaggard, James Moriarty. But when John finds there's more to this most cunning pirate than be meetin' the eye, he has to choose... is it a pirate's life for him?

The Bang and the Clatter by earlgreytea68 (M, 137,049 w., 37 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Baseball AU || Slow Burn / Dev. Rel., Possessive/Obsessive Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock, Mutual Pining, Body Appreciation, Depression, Closeted Sexuality, Family, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Ogling Each Other, Anxious Sherlock, Panic Attack, Drunkenness, Talk of Forever, Big Feelings™) – Sherlock Holmes is a pitcher and John Watson is a catcher. No, no, no, it's a baseball AU. Part 1 of Baseball

Mise en Place by azriona (M, 161,004 w., 28 Ch. || Restaurant (Kitchen Nightmares) AU || Sherlock is Gordon Ramsay / Celebrity Sherlock, Restauranteur John, Harry Plays Prominent Role, Alternating POV, Mutual Pining, Cranky Sherlock, Bed Sharing, Slow Burn) – John Watson had no intentions of taking over the family business, but when he returns from Afghanistan, battered and bruised, and discovers that his sister Harry has run their restaurant into the ground, he doesn't have much choice. There's only one thing that can save the Empire from closing for good – the celebrity star of the BBC series Restaurant Reconstructed, Chef Sherlock Holmes. Part 1 of Mise en Place

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #mutual pining #pining sherlock #pining john #my fic recs #Anonymous #long post

[mnictasbcl]

Wake up

For #dbhcolorsofdeviancy, prompt:

June 10th: five stages of grief @connor-sent-by-cyberlife

Rating:  Mature

Characters: Connor, Hank Anderson, Gavin Reed

Relationships: Connor & Hank Anderson, Connor & Gavin Reed

Additional Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Violence, Graphic Descriptions of violence, Gunshot wounds, Gun violence, Blood, Serious Injury, Guilt, Denial, Swearing, Grief, Not what you think it’ll be, Bargaining, Anger, Graphic medial description, Crying, :(, Coma, Medical coma, Depression, Talk of terminal stuff, Suicide, As in, mention of suicide, Suicidal thoughts, Hope, lots of talk about death, Surreal,

Summary: Hank takes a bullet for Connor. Things only go downhill from there…

 TW: Make sure to read the tags, this is a more heavy fic. Angst, gunshot wounds, gun violence, blood, graphic descriptions of injury/violence and medical description, a lot of mention of death, suicide reference/suicidal thoughts

Story below! Or, read it on AO3

 Connor couldn’t believe it had happened. Everything flew past so suddenly, motions and actions a blur, shouts numb to his ears, only focused on his partner, his friend, his father figure, going down in front of him.

A normal day on the force gone wrong. The suspect they’d been apprehending had had one last trick up his sleeve. They hadn’t realised he was connected to the red ice ring Hank had taken down all those years ago.

In hindsight, from the way the suspect just… let themselves get arrested, maybe they should have been expecting it.

All too willing to walk with them into the DPD, through the rows of desks, see the perp look towards Hank—Hank look back, notice the concealed weapon he drew, pushing Connor to the ground—

Something warm and sticky was sinking into his clothes, the android noted. But he hadn’t been hit. The blood wasn’t blue, it was red.

“Hank.” He uttered, short word broken, syllables distorted. He pushed the man onto his front, saw the gaping bullet hole in his chest.

“I’m…” The man began to choke out, hand reaching up, trying in vain to comfort. “Okay… son…”

“Hank!”

This time, the Lieutenant didn’t answer.

 ­______________

 They carted him off in a stretcher, and left Connor staring at the blood on his hands. If he’d been a human next of kin, maybe they’d have let him go along with him. But the waters surrounding android rights were still murky.

Luckily, it wasn’t long before someone from the force picked him up, made him wash his hands and drove him to the hospital.

Gavin, he noted dully, paying the man no attention on the drive there. He could scan his hands over and over, see them completely clean, but the blood was still there.

But it didn’t happen. Hank was just injured. It happened all the time. They’d stitch him up, Captain Fowler would send him home on bed rest for a few weeks, which he’d bitch and moan about but reluctantly agree to, along with help from Connor and Sumo.

The last time he’d bene injured, however, there hadn’t been so much blood.

Connor blinked, and he was in the waiting room. His LED spun a constant red, but his eyes remained vacant. He tried to push away the facts and figures about blood loss and bullet wounds to the chest that were clogging up his vision.

“He’ll, uh… he’ll be okay.” Connor heard Gavin try to comfort. He looked up with a strange expression on his face.

“No, he won’t.”

Gavin swore under his breath. “Phck. Just… stop looking at me like that, okay? I didn’t realise he meant so much to you before. Look, the doctors are gonna try their best.”

“He was shot in the chest, Gavin.”

He heard a scrape as the man sat on the hard plastic chair beside him.

“I know. Look—Anderson’s a tough guy. He’ll pull through.”

Connor could tell Gavin was trying to help. Maybe seeing his distress, helping him wash Hank’s blood off his hands as he numbly allowed him to do so, changed the man’s view about androids. Maybe he really was starting to care.

But Connor couldn’t care about that right now. And denial wasn’t helping. Sugar-coating the fact that Hank had been shot—shot in the chest—somewhere packed with vital arteries and organs and—

It wasn’t helping. He didn’t want this. Didn’t want Hank hurt, having nothing to do about it—Hank hurt pushing him out of the way of a bullet that had meant to hit him—

He pushed away Gavin’s words, standing abruptly from the chair.

“Just go away.”

“What?”

“I said, go away!” His voice, rarely heard above a calm and collected tone, rose to a shout. “Just go away! I don’t want to talk to you about this, Gavin! Just leave me alone.”

For the better or the worse, there was another dull scrape, before footsteps echoed down the hallway. Barely looking to see where he’d gone, Connor collapsed back into the chair with a sob.

 ______________

 After a while, he was allowed to see Hank. By some miracle, he’d survived, with extensive surgery.

But from the blunt trauma and levels of blood-loss, he’d fallen into a coma.

Connor had sat with him for the full length of visiting hours, only leaving to tend to Sumo back at home.

On the seventh day, where doctors gave him partially hidden pitying glances, he closed the door and sat alone with Hank and his thoughts.

“Maybe I could have saved you.” He whispered, hand grazing over the bedcovers, only briefly glancing at Hank’s still form, save for the mechanical rise and fall of his chest. “You shouldn’t have blocked the bullet, Lieutenant. I could’ve taken it. Or even if I couldn’t—that wasn’t yours to take.”

He pulled his hand back, ghosting it over his chest, where he used to have a tie on at all times to fiddle with and straighten.

“The doctors are saying that it will be lucky if you’ll ever wake up. There’s nothing more they can do. The damage was extreme… and…”

Connor cleared his throat, gently wiping a finger beneath his eyes. “At least you didn’t die. But—if you’re going to, how do I cope with it? You lived with it for years, every day weighing you down, with no one but Sumo to keep you company…

“If you do die, Hank, and leave me here alone—perhaps you taught me all along how to cope with this.”

The heart rate monitor was beeping steadily. But that was the issue- it wasn’t alive, it was just a machine, a machine out of all the machines that were keeping him alive—

That was more than he could have said for himself.

  Time merged together. One week became two. Two became four.

Connor sat beside his bed. He’d decided to stop counting the weeks. Debate over whether it was humane to keep Hank on life support was in hushed tones that the android could hear even with the door shut.

There had been one spike of hope, a few weeks ago, that had led to be nothing. Since then, Hank hadn’t deteriorated in condition, but he hadn’t gotten better, either. Nothing had changed. It was simply a state of frustrating limbo, stagnation, the ugly truth hiding around the corner but not yet ready to strike.

Connor couldn’t deny it anymore. He couldn’t bargain, couldn’t change the fates or shout at them—

But he could hope.

Hold onto Hank’s hand, eyes pleading, LED flickering yellow, the skin peeling away from his hand—

Of course the man couldn’t interface, but maybe the change in texture would mean something, maybe if he replayed their happy memories over and over he would finally wake up.

It didn’t work. The skin crawled back over his hand, and he instead took Hank’s hand in his in a firm but gentle grip.

“Please, Lieutenant. You have to wake up. You have to wake up.”

Without knowing it, the last words, all too familiar from the Revolution, rolled off his tongue in the same commanding way. Something beeped on the monitor beside him—his head snapped up, hope flickering in his eyes—

Before being sparked out by the sound returning to normal. Normality, machine-like and regular, nothing changing, everything the same and not realising its error until it is too late—

He held his hand tighter, shaking his head. He’d rose against this deformed normality; he could do it again. If he just tried… harder…

“Wake up. Please.”

With more force and vigour. This time, something was different. That beep, again, and then again, and—

And then it stopped. Not the mechanical regular beat of the monitor—but a high pitched whine, loud and whirring. He cried out, reaching towards it, grabbing at the wires, the ones connecting to Hank’s chest, before everything faded away to black.

   When Connor came back to consciousness, something was different. He was… floating. There was a vast blackness surrounding him on all sides.

He pushed through it. There was a pinprick of light, shining out from the far distance. But the darkness was thick and heavy, pushing through it like treacle that was attempting to hold him back.

He couldn’t fail. Something was riding on this. Something… important.

The light was so small, but he could just reach out and touch it with the tip of his finger.

And suddenly, upon that contact, it exploded into a supernova of colours. They burst out around him, a galaxy of whites and blues and reds—

And in the centre, was Hank. Laying ever so still, just as Connor remembered him…

Except, on the hospital bed, there were no more wires, no machines hooked up to him. And his eyes were open.

“Hank!” Connor called out, running up to him. But only a few inches away from the bed, and something stopped him. An invisible wall, some unknown force, denying him that contact.

“Connor.” The man replied. He was smiling, but it looked sad. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed but didn’t look like he was moving to come and greet him.

“How—”

“It’s fuckin’ good to see you, kid.”

Connor laughed breathlessly. “I agree, Lieutenant. But how did you—”

“That doesn’t matter.” He shrugged. “What matters is… how are you?”

The android blinked. “I am doing… inadequately without your companionship, Lieutenant.” He replied, words coming out oddly unfeeling for a moment. He shook his head. “I… I miss you.”

Hank tilted his head. “But- I’m just in hospital, Connor. I’m not dead.”

“You will be soon. The doctors—”

“Screw them, though. Well, they’ve been helping me, sure, but you don’t have to waste time worrying about what they say.”

“Wait, so you’re alright?”

Hank laughed. “No. I might die. But,” he continued on, changing the subject abruptly, “You don’t have to spend time worrying about me. Look, son… you have all your life ahead of you. A pretty long one at that. You have a relationship. Friends. Work. Don’t you just want to—move on?”

Connor blinked, then snapped out of his trance, pushing at the invisible force. “No! No. I… I have all of that, Lieutenant, but I don’t have you. You…”

“Not ready to let go then, yet, huh.” It was less of a question. That same sad smile came back. “I wasn’t either. But—look—”

“No. No, I’m not. And I’m not going to.” Whilst he had a feeling what Hank (or was it Hank?) was saying was important, he had a different sense of urgency about the situation. “You don’t get to go yet. Not now. I need you.”

The force became weaker, the gap between them shortening.

“No, you don’t. You’re a deviant now, Connor. You’re alive. You don’t need me to show you that anymore.”

“But I still need you. You mean a lot to me, Hank. And I’m not losing you.”

He tested on the force again, with one last shove, skin peeling back away, the raw strength of his hands shoving into the wall.

“Connor. Are you sure?”

The only response Hank got was the wall breaking away, and Connor tumbling forwards, straight into his arms—

   And with that, the real world came hurtling back into its full colour and shimmer. Something warm was beneath him, but not warm and sticky like Hank’s blood coating his clothes, staining his hands—

No, it was the warmth of his heart beating, really and truly beating this time, and the weak grasp of his arms wrapped around him.

“Hank?” He asked tentatively, eyes still closed.

  “…right here, son.” This time, Hank answered.

#dbhcolorsofdeviancy #dbh #detroit become human #dbh connor #dbh hank #dbh connor and hank #fanfic #dbh fanfic #tw gun violence #tw gunshot wound #tw suicide #tw suicidal thoughts

[chatsanova]

Have Another Go At It: Chapter 2

AO3

When La Grande Paris and Chloe collapsed, it seemed like nothing Chloe ever did would matter ever again.

Every snap at Pierre, every name-dropped or rule bent in the name of Chloe getting what she wanted, none of it would ever matter again. It didn’t matter before either, Chloe had just tricked herself into thinking it did. Her thoughts went like this: grief, guilt, regret, distraction then denial.

Chloe had always loved being center stage. It was where she thrived her whole life. Sure, her father was always busy, and sure, her mother was always gone, but to everyone else, she was the most famous, the most beautiful, the most worthy of their attention.

Occasionally she’d use her status to make things work in her direction, but Chloe just saw that as using her resources.

At her lowest points, she’d use it to humiliate others, but negative attention was still attention.

To those around her, dare she say, those that care about her, it seemed her reign of boisterous claims and attention-seeking would never end. She’d assumed they thought the worst of her, that she would fall into more destructive means, and slowly she’d become too much for her Pierre, for Sabrina, for Adrien. She’d never deserve them and it seemed most stuck around for employment. Her father paid well for friendship.

Adrien always insisted that he never accepted money as there was no point for him to do so. And well, he was in the same boat. Adrien was the first person that understood her, that knew why she was always clinging to her fame. He didn’t always agree with it, but he understood it. At that point, it was all she could ask for.

Plus, for a long time, she had Adrien’s undivided attention. He didn’t know any other kids, he was homeschooled, and Chloe was the only option for companionship. Maybe Adrien was never paid, but the sentiment of sticking around simply because there were no other options had plagued Chloe as well.

Then he came to school with her. It had taken some convincing, but Adrien’s mother thought it would be good for him, as long as he kept up with modeling.

Adrien’s attention wasn’t undivided anymore. Adrien became fast friends with Alya, also new at school, and Nino seemed attached to Adrien’s hip merely two days in.

Alya and Nino tolerated her but had a nasty habit of trying to stop Chloe from picking fights with Marinette. Adding pure, soft, can do no wrong Adrien into the mix didn’t help.

She’d been forced to mellow out in order to keep Adrien around. It was a lot easier to do so after the incident. Picking fights with Marinette stopped instantaneously, though she could feel Marinette’s irritation at the prospect. Marinette never wanted pity, but it’s what she received, even from Chloe.

Marinette had sort of snapped in a weird direction.

It was like she suddenly felt the need to grow up all at once. She wasn’t at school for 2 weeks and when she reappeared, she looked completely different.

She stopped wearing handmade clothes, she stopped putting her hair into pigtails, she just stopped. Her grades slipped, though the teachers also took pity on her.

Marinette waffled in between efforts for attention and not wanting anyone to notice her.

The new clothing style said attention, Chloe thought, recognizing it in herself.

She got looked at more often for tight-fitting jeans, mesh shirts, and dark lips extenuating her blue eyes. But then her closed-off attitude, her snappy remarks, those were defense mechanisms to push people away.

Chloe realized a long time ago that looks were something you can control. Attention is something happily given to pretty people, and sometimes when you can’t control what sort of attention you’re given, looking a certain way gives you a way to drive your own narrative.

Being in the papers for being pretty is more fun than being in the papers for being a bitch. Chloe and Marinette understood that if you’re going to be a bitch, you might as well be an attractive one. People are more willing to forgive a pretty bitch.

These thoughts occurred to Chloe during her distraction phase. It was easy to be distracted by a girl who was sitting right next to her, silent but present, especially one dressed for attention-seeking.

Neither of them wanted attention right now, and they were both sitting with the precisely right person to avoid it, but Chloe allowed herself to be distracted by Marinette. It was better than the alternative.

Chloe didn’t speak; Marinette didn’t speak.

Maybe it didn’t matter if people noticed you, as long as they kept their mouth shut about it.

She couldn’t remember why they had fought so regularly. They seemed so distant, those arguments. She assumed she had done something entitled and Marinette had done something condescending and they’d argue until someone got involved and they’d part ways until their next encounter. Maybe at that point, both had each other’s attention.

Around Marinette, Chloe felt seen. Not in a positive way but definitely in a way that allowed Chloe to feel better about herself for a few quick moments. They both fought for the moral high ground and both won in their own eyes.

Occasionally, Chloe’s thoughts would circle back around to her parents, but she quickly pushed them away. She had to, otherwise, she’d break down again.

So she studied Marinette’s hair, her eyebrows hidden beneath her bangs. Her eyelashes. Her eyes stared into nothing, or maybe into something deep in her brain. Those tended to be the same. She wondered what she was thinking about.

Chloe had wrapped her arms around her legs and buried her face in her knees. At some point, was it two? three? hours of sitting on the ground, Marinette said something.

“Do you,” she cleared her throat from disuse, “Do you need a place to stay?”

Chloe looked up sharply. Marinette also seemed surprised at the suggestion, despite the fact that she had offered it.

“Sorry, I’m just thinking... if you needed to...you could stay at my house…”

Of all the things Chloe had thought about, her physical things hadn’t even crossed her mind. Her physical home. Her home had collapsed. She’d cared so much about her shoe collection 12 hours ago and now she couldn’t be bothered.

“Oh…” Chloe lowered her face back into her knees, “I hadn’t thought about it, I guess.”

“Well, If you do…” Marinette trailed off, the offer hanging in the air. It was the official olive branch.

They hadn’t been fighting, but they weren’t friends by any means. It seemed like this was saying, “I’m willing to move on if you are.”

Maybe it wasn’t the right time, or maybe it was the best time. Maybe they desperately needed someone in their corner. Maybe Adrien hadn’t understood Chloe for a long time. Maybe Marinette and Chloe had always understood each other.

Maybe seeking attention meant seeking those that were willing to give it.

“Thank you.” And they fell back into silence.

If Chloe had thought about it, which she hadn’t, she’d probably assume that she’d stay at Adrien’s. But Adrien was in his own headspace now.

Then her thoughts shifted to the denial. This denial was justified, Chloe felt, because Adrien had practically been saying it all day.

“None of this is right.” Which in Chloe’s mind translated to, “None of this is real.”

She had felt the wrongness before but now couldn’t attribute it to anything but grief. People always tried to bargain, right?

What if none of this is real? What if my parents aren’t dead? What if I can get them back? But Adrien hadn’t lost anything. What excuse did he have for making up shit in his brain? This is what Chloe said to herself in order to decide that whatever Adrien needed to do to “fix” things, she’d do it. Because maybe, just maybe, the madman was right. That her parents shouldn’t be dead. That this was fixable.

Nino and Alya had explained their dreams to Marinette. They were more than dreams, they all understood that, but Marinette was having a hard time latching on.

“We just need to know what you think feels wrong,” Nino said. Marinette scoffed, not out of malice but out of frustration. Her arms crossed defensively against her chest, her head shook bouncing hair on her shoulders, her mouth struggled to form words. Adrien understood that frustration, as he was currently feeling it as well. It was not being able to find words that should feel so normal, and knowing something is wrong but not anything else.

“I don’t know! I don’t know what feels wrong! Everything feels wrong!”

It occurred to Adrien that you can’t really feel water when you’re surrounded by it.

Everything about Marinette’s life was wrong, as far as he could tell. He wouldn’t be able to tell you what was correct exactly, only that if you squint really hard something about her was familiarly incorrect.

It wasn’t easy to explain, and he wasn’t the best with words anyway. He glanced at his friends, who returned his glances, each with a tinge of sympathy. He couldn’t tell who the sympathy was directed towards but suspected it wasn’t mutually exclusive.

Adrien was obviously more affected by this phenomenon. Dreams were one thing, but Adrien’s mood had been violently swinging all day. It was to be expected in the midst of a national crisis, but this had begun before the building fell.

He cried when there was nothing to cry at, both in happiness and grief. He felt as though he were living two days simultaneously, one very different, but maybe not much better.  And to him, Marinette was at the epicenter.

Feelings around her thrashed like waves against a rocky shore. He tapped his foot impatiently and crossed his arms, becoming jittery. He paced around the hallway.

“Adrien?” Chloe sounded more concerned than she really should have been. Adrien felt guilty for not being the one next to her to deal with her parents. And then ashamed of his guilt and then ashamed of his own self-pity.

He was so caught up in his own bullshit that he had stood to the side while Marinette, of all people, comforted her. It was bizarre, wrong, and also the best thing to happen today.

“Sorry, I’m just...confused.” His mental failings shouldn’t be a priority right now. People have died.

It wasn’t his place to be more distraught than those around him. His parents were still alive and well, his home unaffected, his life unchanged. That felt incorrect too, somehow. He felt as though his life had changed significantly, just in a way that was unplaceable. Like pointing at it would be pointing at air.

The news outlets and websites said that outside wouldn’t be safe until the next morning so everyone camped out in the main gym. There were a scattered number of teachers that had arrived before the collapse but apparently most had been stuck in a Ladybug induced roadblock.

They instructed students to stay calm and a few reached out to Chloe specifically, checking in occasionally, but Chloe made it clear that the teachers should focus on the other students. They looked surprised at this sentiment, but continued to try to help those who seemed more visibly distraught than Chloe.

They had been advised to stay put until the next morning, so the teachers gathered yoga mats and the school’s few sleeping bags from upperclassmen camping trips. A few blankets scattered the floor. There wasn’t enough for everyone so some used jackets or backpacks as pillows. The students gathered together, select laughter echoing through the gymnasium. But otherwise, it was about as quiet as an entire school of 14-18 years could be.

They struggled through another explanation, but Marinette remained unconvinced. Chloe explained her dream, eerily similar to Nino’s about a purple butterfly and not being in control. They watched her carefully. When she was done, she looked over at Marinette, who looked sympathetic and maybe a little confused.

“I’m sorry, this all seems odd, I’ll give you that, but I just don’t recognize it as familiar.”

They all turned to look at Adrien. He’s the one who needed this, he’s the one with the next step. He had no answers. He hadn't told her his dream yet. He wasn't sure he could.

“No, I’m sorry. Maybe...maybe it’s nothing. Maybe nothing is going on.” he pressed his palms into his eyes, rubbing away a headache he didn’t know he had. “Maybe I’m going crazy.”

“How can you say that?” Chloe glared, “How can you claim, how can you...give me hope that none of this is right, that maybe we’re in some sort of dream, and then just toss it aside like it’s nothing? What if my parents are supposed to be alive right now, Adrien? Do you want to just ignore it? You want me to live a life I’m not supposed to be living?”

“Chloe, I never claimed this world isn’t real, just that it’s wrong.”

“Then that’s what I’m saying. This world...isn’t real.”

“Chloe…” Alya reached a hand out to her.

“No.” Chloe stood, turned, and walked away, leaving Alya’s hand suspended in the air.

For the first time in months, Marinette slept in a building with other people in it. More people than she ever had, really. She slept on a blanket, sharing with Alya and Chloe, who had come back only when she realized she didn’t want to be alone.

She didn’t say that, of course, but no one commented on her return either. They didn’t talk about the feeling for the rest of the night, instead opting for silence or half-hearted plans for the next day.

Adrien said Chloe could stay at his house. Chloe didn’t even have to ask. Marinette and Chloe shared a glance before Chloe agreed.

Marinette had a dream on the gymnasium floor. She wasn’t lying when she said Alya, Chloe and Nino’s dreams didn’t sound familiar, but this one was not unfamiliar .

She stood on a rooftop, wind-battered her skin, and she was cold. She couldn’t possibly be really cold, it wasn’t real, but she shivered. She felt the chill on her arms. It wasn’t right.

When she looked down at her hands she was surprised to see them. She felt as though something was missing from her skin. Her hands bolted to her ears and felt nothing.

In front of her, the scene was incomprehensible. There were two people, wearing garishly ridiculous outfits. It didn’t seem like they should be a threat, but in her dream, her pulse quickened.

One of them had a gun. It wasn’t pointing at her but to an empty spot next to her. Panic ran through her spine all the way down to her bare fingertips. There’s someone missing. Where...where was he? For some reason, she couldn’t bring herself to look downwards. She knew something was just below her vision if she could move her neck every time she pulled, her vision remained stiff, forcing her chin to remain level.

The woman with the gun, she sauntered to them, Marinette and the Something. She dipped into her blind spot and came up with a ring. The man, he looked grief-stricken, panicked, and angry.

“NATALIE.” his voice boomed in the quiet city. It...shouldn't have been quiet.

“Relax, boss, once you have the miraculous everything will go back to normal. You’ll have your family back.”

“Then give me the ring”

“Hold on a second, I want to talk to the girl.”

“No, enough of this. Give me the miraculous.”

Then she held up the gun to his chest. Marinette couldn’t move. She couldn’t do anything. She was hopeless. She was helpless. She was weak.

“Give me the earrings, Gabriel.”

“Nat-”

A click of the gun, “I’m not asking.”

“What are you doing?”

“I’ll get you your family back Gabriel, but I want something too.”

“How do I know you’ll bring her back?”

“Because I don’t want you causing me trouble on the other side. Gotta keep you fat and happy. The earrings.”

He held them out. She turned around and walked where Marinette couldn’t see. A shining light sparked into her field of vision. And then a stronger brighter one a few seconds later. And then...and then there was nothing but light.

Marinette woke up her arms tight around Chloe. She gasped (from the dream) and made eye contact with the back of Chloe’s head. She’d gotten so tense during her nightmare that she’d pulled Chloe against her chest.

Okay, I’m big spooning Chloe Bourgeois.

She couldn’t even think beyond that. She felt another body on her other side, Alya sleeping peacefully.

She needed space. Room to breathe. Sitting up proved to be easier than standing up. She managed to get free, grab her backpack, and flee into the hallway, still buzzing with public school lighting. She aimlessly walked the hallways. A teacher stopped her once, she quickly rambled about going to the bathroom and they let her go. She took deep breaths trying to remember everything about that dream. The names. The faces. The location. It already began to blur in her mind. She remembered the gun and the earrings and the ring and the chill on her skin and how wrong it felt. She felt something, someone, missing from her field of vision.

She sat and drew everything she remembered. Her hands, the roof, the gun, the earrings and the ring in the hand of the wrong people. The flashing in the corner of her eye, the grief stricken angry face of the man in purple. The cruelness of the woman in blue. She couldn’t quite remember her face.

Adrien wasn’t going to sleep, he knew that when he woke up this morning. So when he saw Marinette grab her backpack and run, it wasn’t a large leap to try and talk to her. Problem was he couldn’t find her.

“Mr. Agreste, what are you doing up and about?”

“Bathroom, ma’am.”

The teacher narrowed her eyes.

“No fooling around, Mr. Agreste.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He couldn’t remember what he had done to receive a reputation of tomfoolery but apparently word had spread. That wasn’t even his teacher. He almost asked if she had seen Marinette, but that wouldn’t have helped.

He found Marinette on the roof.

“What the fuck, Marinette?”

“GOD! Fuck, Agreste, you scared me.”

“You’re on the roof.”

“Well spotted.”

“Why?”

“Needed some air.”

“Toxic, debris-filled air?”

“That warning came down hours ago.”

“What are you doing?” he gestured to her notebook.

“Drawing, Agreste, what does it look like?”

“It looks like you’re on the ROOF during a traumatic NATIONAL CRISIS. Please just come down.”

“Oh. OH! No, Agreste, I’m fine. I’m good. I just needed to…” she trailed off.

He looked around. From here, you could see where Le Grand Paris used to be.

“The world is fucked,” he ran his fingers through his hair and sat down next to Marinette. She flipped her notebook closed. She was drawing a pair of hands.

“Well spotted.”

“Marinette, I think it’s my fault.”

“Full of yourself, are we? Center of the world Adrien Agreste? The only one who realizes the world is fucked?”

“Jesus, I’m trying to,” he sighed, “Fuck, Marinette.”

They were silent for a while.

“Marinette, your life is wrong.”

"You keep saying that."

"I mean it, I don't think this is how things were supposed to go."

"You can't just brush off things you don't like with denial, Agreste. At least, that's why my therapist says."

Adrien laughed, "Watch me."

"Blondie, I can't help but want to believe you, and that's why I can't do this. Whatever it is you're doing. I can't let myself believe that nothing is permanent. I can't just go along with it because I think I'll see my parents on the other side."

"No, I know that. Of course, I know that." Adrien uses his hands to push himself off the ground, spinning that he's sitting across from her, "I just...Marinette I'm going to tell you my dream."

"Ooookay."

"No, my literal dream, the dream that I had last night, not like, my existential drea- ya know what, never mind."

"No, I get it," Marinette smiles, and it's good to see.

"Alright, I'm on this roof."

His dream starts on a roof. Of course, of fucking course it does.

"And there's something next to me that I can't see. And I'm looking at this roof and there's a guy in purple, with, like, this butterfly brooch on it. It's a ridiculous fucking outfit." Marinette has to smile. "And he's talking some big game about something miraculous. And I'm pissed. I'm angry as fuck. And then this equally gaudy bitch pulls out this canister that's got my MOM inside which is wild, and then I'm cussing this guy out. Just screaming at him. I honestly don't remember what I said. Then he moves to that place I can't look, ya know, that blind spot? And comes back with earrings. Then the bitchy lady comes back and I wake up."

"Wow, that's quite the dream." If Marinette hadn't experienced what she just experienced, she would have thought that's a fairly normal dream dream.

"Now, I know how that sounds."

"Sounds like a dream," she lied.

"No, I know, dreams are crazy in general, but I swear more happened than that. I just, it felt so weird, like I was actually on the ruth, filled with rage. I just need to know who was next to me."

Me. Adrien was next to me.

#ml fic #miraculous ladybug fanfiction #fanfic #tw parent death #miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #adrienette #chloenette #chloe bourgeois

[1p2p-heta-imagines]

Apologies that this has to do with my headcannon that the 2ps represent the armies and that this is 10/10 angst. Because there is now only one Italian army and Luciano crossed over to the allies, he is supposed to die. Luciano prepares himself for death and asks his brothers to treat him the same as they always have. But Flavio gets sick instead and it’s revealed that Flavio pulled some strings to switch the roles. How do his brothers react both when he’s sick and when he passes? Scenario pls!

(This is a based on a war that isn’t real, it’s entirely made up. I promise that I’m not basing it on any real ones.) (I’m not too happy with this, I feel like it’s missing something but I can’t figure out what else to do and this is the best I could make it so I hope you enjoy it!)

(Please do not continue reading if anything in this ask seems like it would be triggering! Take care of your mental health, proceed with caution!)

Silence. As overused as the pin falling phrase is, it holds true in such a situation as the one the family had found themselves in. Shock. Not a word was uttered when such a shocking secret is revealed, the secret of death’s sweet kiss agonizingly falling upon a loved one. To treat someone on death’s door as they would have if not was a tantalizing task, but the knowledge that their untimely end was being passed to the person they considered themselves closest to was torture worse than the death he had been expecting.

“You’re leaving us?” The only words Romeo managed to muster left the air heavier than it was when it was silent.

“Come on, no need to make this sound so glum, Romeo, I’m saving you, both of you. I was never going to live forever, was I?” Flavio struggled to say, a lot of his strength had already diminished.

Romeo stumbled his way over to the elder sibling, conflicted feelings washing over him all at once. He didn’t know what to say, what to do, what to even think. He was never taught to deal with loss, he never expected to have to suffer through such tragedy in his life. He found himself kneeling beside Flavio who rested on a couch, trying his best to keep his consciousness through his suffering, so he could calm the others down.

“This can’t be happening, it just can’t be happening. There’s too much we haven’t done, so much I need to tell you and you said you’d see me turn into a country and you’d help me and you promised me! You promised me!” Romeo denied the very thought of loss.

Tears managed to find their way flooding down Romeo’s cheeks as he tried his best to pull Flavio off the couch. He thought that if he could make him stand up, make him move, get some blood running then maybe it’d all sort itself out, Flavio always got up and got better. But all it did was make Flavio’s suffering more apparent.

“Romeo, Sebby, calm down. It’s ok, it’s all going to be ok.” An attempt at consoling was made, only for it to do nothing.

“It’s not ok! I can go instead. Pull some more strings, make it me instead. I’m not even a real country yet, no one would notice if I were to go missing, I could just go poof and make it all better!” He attempted to bargain. He thought of it as the right thing to do, it was the only thing he could think to do.

“Listen to me, Romeo. People would notice, Luciano would notice, I would notice. Luciano, back me up here, I can’t do this on my own.” Flavio’s pleading words broke through Luciano’s previous silence.

“This isn’t how it’s meant to go, Flavio.” Luciano stood there, he hadn’t moved since realizing what was happening. He couldn’t. He was frozen to the spot, unable to move or cry or do anything. He hated it. “You aren’t meant to be the one dying.”

“Luciano, you can do so much more good than I can. You’ve grown so much, I believe in you and I always have. I mean, we both knew this was how it was going to end and-”

“No! We didn’t ‘both know’, Flavio! Maybe I thought that we were going to all stay a family for a few more centuries! Maybe I thought that you would stay for Romeo’s sake, maybe I thought that I deserved this death, maybe I thought that I could save you as a thank you for every single thing you have done for me. Don’t give me this bullshit of ‘we both knew’, because I sure as fuck didn’t.”

Rage. Boiling rage seeped through the cracks of a breaking man. The room went back to silence, no one wanted to be the one to say something. The only cracks in the returning silence were Flavio’s occasional chokes and gasps as he could feel himself slipping away.

“Both of you need to promise me that you’ll take care of each other, this is no one’s fault. I love both of you so much, and taking care of you were some of the highest points of my life. So please, please do not stop just because I am no longer going to be here.”

“You’re not going to be here... I’m never going to see you again after this...” Realization seemed to hit Romeo like a truck, his brother was never going to come back from this.

Luciano felt himself being drawn towards the others, he lifted Flavio’s head up before sitting down and letting the said head rest on his lap. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do, wasn’t even sure what he was doing right now, but this felt right to him.

“You’re not going to die on me, goddammit. This isn’t right, it’s not going to happen, I swear on my fucking life that I will not allow this to happen. I love you, ti voglio bene, whatever language there is to say it in, for fuck’s sake!” Anger was still clear in his voice but it seemed to crack at certain points, sorrow rearing its head.

Flavio found himself unable to speak, it was getting too hard to, he ended up choosing to use the last of his energy to do what he always had. Care for the two. He hummed a song, he always had while he was putting them to sleep. It was always the same tune, it was special to them all.

As he hummed, it was clearly strained, not as melodious and carefree as they all once knew it to be. It paused at parts where Flavio needed to gasp for breath only to start again, it felt forced and full of misery, a side to the song that they had never heard before. Until silence greeted them both once more, no more music.

“Flavio? Flavio, are you ok?” Romeo turned to face his brother, only to be met with slowly emptying eyes. “No, no, no, no, no, no!”

“Shhh, he’s sleeping. He has to be sleeping, I swore that I wouldn’t let him.” Luciano’s voice cracked. He held the body in his arms, keeping it close to him. “He’s not dead, he’s not dead, he’s not dead, he’s just sleeping.”

“Luciano, he’s not breathing! We need to-”

“He’s sleeping!” Luciano snapped. Romeo didn’t know what to do or say in response and chose only to nod his head.

The tune started up again, this time by Luciano. He was stroking Flavio’s hair, occasionally stopping to tell the body how proud he was or how much he loves him. Romeo sat there, back facing the other two, he couldn’t accept that this was happening but not to the point of Luciano’s denial. He knew what happened, he didn’t want to know but he did.

“I need to sleep.” The words stumbled from Romeo’s voice as he got up.

“Goodnight, Flavio will be up to wake you up later. He’ll wake up, wake you up and we’ll all go and have coffee at some cafe or something.” Luciano nodded, convincing himself that these lies were fact.

“Sure he will, Luciano. He’ll wake up.” Romeo knew better than to feed into his brother’s thinking when it wasn’t stable, but he wasn’t sure what else he could say. What is there to say? Silence found itself returning, perhaps it had found it’s permanent home in the Vargas residence.

#2p #Hetalia #2p Hetalia #2ptalia #2p Italy Trio #2p Italy #2p North Italy #2p Veneziano #2p South Italy #2p Romano #2p Seborga #2p Headcanons #2p Hetalia Headcanons #2ptalia Headcanons #Scenario

[sonus-aurum]

Presumption

I want to add a sixth stage of grief

at the top of the list:

presumption.

The premonition, the antecedent

of all the pain that’s to come.

I think about your departure and I’m already crying

even though it’s still months away.

I imagine another filling your room,

moving into your space, so when it’s late at night

I can’t knock on your door just to hug you,

and I’m already a wreck because that space

will forever be your space to me.

I think about life, us, being even remotely different

and it’s already becoming my undoing.

Presumption: The storm before the storm.

The feeling of longing for someone who hasn’t left,

feeling broken and shredded before anything even changes,

preparing for the apocalypse, for my world to come to an end.

Side effects include

burning eyelids from salty tears,

loneliness and emptiness,

withdrawal, obsession, addiction.

When crossing off days on the calendar

feels like taking years off your life,

keeping a record of all the amazing things you’ve said

so when I reread them, maybe I can hear them in your voice.

You never felt real to me in the time we were apart

but when you came back I thought that would change.

Now I’m desperate for an artifact, a talisman

so I can touch what you’ve felt, hear what you’ve listened to,

so when I can’t look into your eyes anymore I can look through them instead.

Presumption: The precursor of denial,

the diversion of anger,

bargaining away what little time we have left,

recapitulating my depression, my despair,

and accepting that yes,

this is really going to happen.

It’s why I hug you too tightly;

I never want to let you go

but I can already see the end of the road

and it’s you, standing in your cap and gown

hugging me as I cry, promising me this isn’t over

but I’m terrified that you’re wrong.

#poetry #poem #poets of tumblr #poets on tumblr #spilled ink #spilled thoughts #spilled words #spilled poetry #writing