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alavestineneas · 1 month

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i can feel the soil falling over my head; no people are here, just the void in my chest

pairing: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!reader summary: Harkonnen men rarely wed; they just take what they capture—men and women—and turn them into slaves. Some, if particularly sweet, are reserved for fucking. There are no special songs for that; there isn't a specific word in their native tongue for wife, either. warnings: mentions of death, violence, implied/referenced child abuse, religious symbolism, daddy and sister issues, bald men chapter 1 - chapter 2 word count: 6,5K

author's note: hi beautiful people! this chapter may be classified as a prologue (yes, I am aware of its size, sorry, lol), but it is still integral to the story. we love evil people, especially evil bald people, in this house, so have fun and don't forget to wash your hands before reading! also, if you see things that are not canon, just know that me and the books are two parallel lines and we do not cross. feel free to point out grammar mistakes, though - english is not my first. love you!

Kaitain, 10176 AG

The violent streaks of light fight with the heavy cloth of drapes to find their way into the small, stifling chambers. The time was slowly crawling towards noon in the heavy summer heat, and the woman lying on the heavily decorated sheets was battling to get a breath in. Whether because of the annoying star, or the poisoning waiting, the patterns of sweat stained her tired face with esculent ornaments. Her lips, formed into a thin line, gleamed with small spots of dried crimson.

''Where is the messenger?'' The woman's voice was barely above a whisper, her eyes glued to the dancing light filtering through the window. ''The girl is strong; I can't hold her for much longer.''

The black figure on the chair in the corner slightly shifted at words. She was veiled, despite the heat—like a black hole, she seemed to suck the little air left. ''Forbearance,'' her raspy voice cuts through the room. ''The child makes you impatient. Control yourself.''

''I've waited, and waited long enough,'' the woman snapped, her frustration evident in her trembling hands. ''A few more minutes and all that is left of her will be a corpse.''

''Be quiet, Echidna. The child will live. If not, she was never meant to be part of our world in the first place.''

The woman clenched her jaw in a wave of pain and nodded. The girl ought to see the light of this planet today. Deep in her thoughts, she almost missed the rushed steps behind the door.

One of the Emperor's guards burst into the room, his eyes almost frantic. ''Lady Anirul has graced the Imperium with a daughter.''

Echidna smiled in relief, but her expression quickly changed as a beast-like cry pierced the air. The child was coming, with little care for the damage it caused to her aching womb. She tore the tissue down to the individual cells, gnawing her way with fists and elbows, moving the bones aside with brute force. Soon, her own cries were answered by much louder ones, as the head of the girl showed itself, covered in a thick layer of almost black blood. Just for a moment, the woman wished it would not steal another breath from the room, but she sharply composed herself. With a final push, the child left her body forever, leaving it a raw wound.

The small creature shrieked when the black figure approached, and slender, wrinkled arms took it from the warmth of rufous-red liquid. Echidna watched as the figure carried the girl away, resting her hurting body against the soaked pillows. She fulfilled her duty; she granted Bene Gesserit the daughter they wanted. She is bleeding under a beautiful sun; she is holding the ghost of her child in her arms—the real one was never hers anyway. Echidna knows the Emperor will not come. From now on, it is just her and her never-passing pain. Thus, Kaitain, home to the Corrino dynasty, was warmed by the light of a new sun—Princess Irulan, an heiress to the Imperium—and chilled by the shadow of her sister, born a few minutes later.

The calmness of the gardens was disturbed only by the soft strokes of brushes against a thick canvas. YN sighed, her eyes still fixed on the tree nearby, its young branches swaying with the wind. Her body ached from stillness, the tension in her neck from holding her head slightly bowed spreading down to her small back. They posed for a portrait of what seemed like an eternity to a child, and was almost it to an adult who dared to inquire; the painter, while satisfied with the draft, looked at the group of young girls almost in fear—no normal child of that age would be unmoving for three hours. And yet, they were.

YN felt one of her sisters shift even through the thick fabric of her silver dress. Small Chalice turned, her cheeks red from the heat or tiredness, her lips forming a pout—the child was tired, sleepingly rubbing her eyes. YN thought for a moment, debating if the punishment would be worth it, or if her sisters could wait just a little bit more until the man with colours would end the session for today. She noticed how Irulan's face was starting to droop, her eyes fluttering closed and opening just a second later. Their youngest, Wensicia, was already asleep in Irulan's arms; her golden hair spread across her and YN's laps as a beautiful cover, shining under the faint sun.

''I am tired, Master Chen. We should end the painting for today,'' YN finally spoke; her voice was almost a whisper. She did not know whether it was not to awaken her sister or out of fear of the Emperor's anger; it did not matter. The man nodded and left, taking his canvases with him, leaving only a few drafts behind. Then, the sisters were left alone in the garden.

''Thank you,'' Irulan said softly, placing her head on YN's shoulder.

YN only nodded. Her eyes found the paper not so far away, her gaze studying the strokes of the pencil with interest. Wensicia, a beautiful girl of two, was smiling brightly, holding an olive branch in her chubby hands, her small feet peeking under the hem of her white dress. Small Chalice was at the opposite end of her, her curly hair surrounding her head like a halo as she leaned forward, holding a small dove inside her palms. Then, sitting at the bench, surrounded by lush greenery and bushes, they. Irulan and the Other.

YN was placed just a step away from her older sister, her head turned away from the gaze of the viewer. The delicate folds of her silver dress carefully cascaded down, creating an air of mist around them. Her hands were empty; she did not know if the artist hadn't decided with each object to grace her with, or left them hollow intently. She looked like a shadow—a ghost, maybe; her eyes were escaping the viewer as if hiding a secret.

Irulan was different. She was a sun-kissed creature, her head facing straight ahead. Her eyes, as if inviting for a challenge, were made from duty, steel. With a burning star on her regal forehead, crowning the streaks of golden hair, Irulan was water and air, dulcet and ever-bending; her figure held the place and her pose was distinct and commanding.

YN looked at the girl beside her, who was now quiet nearby. Irualn was wise, the wisest of the sisters; her eyes were all-seeing, her heart all-knowing. She was created in the shape of a mother since they could walk, and the small ones bathed in her light, drinking her till the last drop —like flowers following the warm embrace of the sun. The only one who could not enjoy the love was her, the Other. The other sister, the other half. For they have been too close in age, too similar to let each other pretend the burden was not a heavy one to bear.

When Irulan was natural in her all-caring shape, YN had to claw her way to the only role left—the father. An unbent tree, a silent soldier—she was not born to fit as one, but wishing for a different order of things was almost blasphemy. That's how it always was with them—out of two, one was the protector, the other - the protected. "Husband," Irulan humorously called her often. She smiled, and, for a moment, the wave of resentment in YN's soul calmed. She never called her wife in return: Irulan was too whole to be one, too proud to be moulded into. She stood alone, on a higher pedestal than all of them, closest to the Emperor, whom the Other was to call father, and closest to the Truth. No, Irulan was God.

God does not know how to love someone who is not his servant, because there is no one who would refuse to serve him; it is the only way. God guides, despite all one's protests. God gives, and God takes. God demands; Irulan demands—silent obedience without a need to explain or answer. That, she takes from their father. So, the Other takes a blade into her hand without compassion for her dead wishes and learns to wield it in God's name. She is the one little ones turn to when the world is too wicked for their fragile souls when the creatures under their beds lose all of their human form and turn violent. She takes their sins and bears the punishments, for they are not deserving of such cruelty. YN thinks not of her own guilt—what difference would one scourage make to one who counts in centuries? And when the sun shone, and God smiled, the Other almost forgot of the bruises she carried.

The first time he saw her, it was not supposed to happen at all. Feyd-Rautha just closed the door to Maester's chambers with such force that it shook against lean walls; the grumble echoed in the long corridors of Giedi Prime's fortness. The ache in his body was muted, but still present; the torn flesh inside his heart howled and clawed, slicing the ribcage in half. He would've screamed, or perhaps beat his hands bloody against the concrete until the dull pain turned into something as sharp as his knife's blade. Maybe he would've drowned himself in a small water bowl by his nightstand and done anything to escape the shame and humiliation that consumed him from within. But instead, Feyd-Rautha stood still, his jaw clenched tight and his breathing shallow. One day, it will pass. One day, he will see the world choke on its own spit.

That's when he noticed a small, shadow-like figure at the end of the hallway staring at him. A girl, not older than him, was in a dress so foreign to him that it hurt his eyes. The daughter of the Emperor, he guessed. One of many—only then would the golden stitching on her sleeve would make sense.

''What are you doing here?'' he barked, caring little for the common courtesy. Of course, she was a guest almost as prized as her father, but she was in his territory and dared to look at him for long enough without averting her eyes. Long enough to notice the bruising on his pale skin and a swelness surrounding his lips. Long enough to hear him cry.

''I was walking with my mother, but then I turned into the wrong hall,'' she shrugged. ''Will you be kind enough to show me the way out? Or should I find it myself?"

Feyd-Rautha ignored her question. What a weird creature she was—with cascades of hair and eyes that seemed to see too much. ''It is dangerous to walk these halls without guard, Princess.'' It is dangerous to be here, alone with him and the weapon strapped to his hip, but he did not add it.

''There is no use of guards if the one who wishes to kill you is their master.'' The girl took a step forward, pointing to the weapon at his side. "I am not afraid."

Feyd-Rautha laughed. It came out more as howling than human sounds, the abrupt nature of it ringing with high notes, tip-toeing down to hysterical; it sounded creaky, like his throat was not made for such sounds; yet here he was, laughing. ''Come,'' he gestured to her, his hand moving quickly, like ordering a slave around. ''I will show you why you should be.''

So, they walked. Inside the grandiose chambers and small rooms, filled with ancient artefacts or the newest technology Harkonnens came up with; inside the green lavish garden inside the dim castle and the training grounds, Feyd-Rautha showed every place that was built to display the greatness of his house and bestone fear inside both guests and people inhibiting it. He wanted to see the horror in the girl's eyes, to make her eyes water and her frame flee. Instead, he listened to her steady breathing just a step behind him, her curious questioning satisfying another need he did not know his heart possessed: reverence.

He was the youngest member of the ruling line, the smallest stone in the castle of power his uncle had built. His title meant nothing within these walls; he was too small in comparison to the Baron and his authority. Feyd-Rautha was feared, despite only being nine; he was the shadow in the corner that grew longer as the sun set, the whispered name that sent shivers down spines. But here, in the hallway he led the girl into, he turned out to be something else.

''Stunning,'' the girl whispered beside him.

Weapons. The walls, from the floor to the high ceilings, were covered in ritual and fighting blades. The pride of house Harkonnen, the tree of their dynasty, black, silver, golden, and steel knives, swords, and daggers gleamed in the dim light. Feyd-Rautha smiled, revealing a row of sharp teeth. "Welcome to our burial ground."

They stopped near every one, his voice briefly covering the story of each blade and his owner; barons that came before him; fighters and rules that defined their legacy. Some still have blood on them—the highest honour; some look almost virgin. The small signs underneath them tell the names of people who wielded these weapons, their stories forever immortalised in the cold metal. ''Each Harkonnen ruler is crafted a blade of his own, the one he is to honour in battle.''

The girl nodded, her fingers tracing the shape of the last blade carefully. Her palms danced around the sharp edge, taking in the ancient symbols she had no chance of knowing. ''Will you have to kill Baron Vladimir in order to have one, like he did with his father before?''

Feyd-Rautha paused. Of course, he has thought about it before. The idea he repeated like a mantra in his head for all of his short life, the belief that spread burning flames down his spine. The words left his mouth for the first time but felt almost natural against his cracked lips. ''I dream of the day I have the chance to.''

The pair of foreign eyes that stared back at him held a glint of intrigue that quickly changed with a flash of acknowledgement. Feyd-Rautha held the gaze; not a single thing about it was hard. Still, he was the first to turn away; the burning sensation of being seen made him want to tear his flesh apart. ''Let me escort you to your rooms, Princess. The walls grow colder as the evening approaches.''

The weather on the planet leaves too few guards out of their breath, Irulan notes. The striking sun burns through the rounded windows of man-built walls, the frankly depressing landscape of huge boxes constructed with little intent for anything else but utilitarianism. She must not fear, while those lands will also be under her power with time, but the dreadful atmosphere of the lonely planet makes her skin break out in hives.

She believes the people here are more terrifying. White, hairless creatures with eyes as dark as the sun above them speak with just nods and courseys, paying little to no attention to the world around them, save for the concrete floors. ''Tell them to set themselves on fire, and they will,'' Irulan recalls Baron Vladimir telling her father over the banquet. She believed it to be a simple boast at first, but now, after a few days in the strange world, the words make greater sense.

Perhaps, the harsh weather made people here hardened. Perhaps, such cruelty is necessary for survival. What terrorised her more was her sister—the one who now silently reads nearby, her long dress carelessly spread on the floor. Irulan would never allow her dress to wrinkle before the concluding dinner, but she is not Irulan. Despite them being demisisters, they shared fewer similarities than one could guess. Two lambs, as many in court would call them—the white and black ones. They knew one another better than anything else; where one went, the other followed. Where Irulan failed, her sister succeeded. What was allowed for her sister, was fobility towards Irulan. No one was embedded in their small circle; no one could get close enough to understand the bond they shared—together, they were whole.

Yet as they grew older, the bond seemed to thin. The path to the mind of her sister was more often closed to her now, her thoughts veiled by the silence rooted deep into her veins. Irulan knows they are just growing up, trying to find their path in the unknown. But she is scared; what would be of her without her sister? What use would the river have without fish to fill it?

''I shall go,'' her sister says, closing the book. ''The dinner starts soon, and I wanted to return the book before it.''

''Is it the one Na-Baron recommended?'' Irulan voices. Truth be told, she would never touch anything that Baron or his family possessed, even more recommended, but her sister seemed to enjoy the ancient text.

''It is. Rather interesting are the traditions of these people. Did you know their slaves have no tongues?''

Irulan feels sick to her stomach; the thought of having slaves brings the small bits of her recent meal to her very present tongue. ''Can I come with you?'' she asks, instead of answering. Irulan does not want to leave the faint safety of her rooms, but even more, she does not want to be left alone. She feels vulnerable—she is not of power here, despite being the embodiment of it in all of the other corners of the Imperium.

''You know I walk without guards.''

Irulan knows. While she is not able as much as bathe without the presence of someone with fighting knowledge, the rules do not seem to apply to her younger sister; she can move freely, as she wishes. Was it because she carried a thin blade with her and knew how to use it, or because of the lack of care from their father? Irulan was not sure. What she was sure of, was that no woman of twelve should leave her sister alone in the halls of Harkonnens' fort.

''It is just to the reading room and back, is it not?''

''Yes,'' her sister nods. ''I'll take you,'' it means.

So, they walk. Fortunately, the guards usually waiting outside are nowhere to be found, and they manage to slip away unnoticed. Irulan holds the hand of her sister tightly, with each noise from the outside digging her nails deeper into her soft palm. Her sister says nothing; she steps calmly into the labyrinth of corridors, navigating them without much evident trouble. Soon, they find themselves in front of a huge black door, incarnated with words Irulan hold no knowledge of.

Inside, the chamber is massive; it forms a beautiful, round circle with ceilings so high that the air in it is always chilly. Rows of books and manuscripts fill the shelves out of oxidant, contrasting starkly with the white wall. The black circle table of cold stone is filled with replicas and ancient artefacts, each emitting a soft glow.

Who knew the small, desert planet held such treasures inside? Irulan forgets about her sister entirely—the texts call to her, golden lettering shining under the light. Irulan follows the names on the covers: legends, myths, histories, and art overviews. Some even contained gardening and soil research; Baron likely held those for a good laugh.

Irulan travels deeper and deeper until the voice of her sister addressing the only library keeper almost disappears, consumed by tall bookcases. The section she finds herself in is solely dedicated to martial arts; where, if not here, would the hundreds of books on such a topic be stored? Some of them are used; the spines are slightly older; others look brand new.

Irulan is brought to her senses only when she notices a black figure moving in the corner of her vision. She puts the book back and Listens. Just like the Sisters taught her, her inner ear picks up the faint voice of her sister, and the moving of two sandaled feet—the slave handling the books. She feels something else, too. A presence familiar enough to recognise but not enough to name.

''We have to go,'' she says, grabbing her sister by the shoulder and pressing. ''We will be late,'' she explains to the slave. Not that it would question the whims of the princess.

''Why?'' her sister turns to her, confused. ''I was looking at some other books. Weren't you also?''

''Please,'' Irulan whispers. ''We spent enough time here as it is.''

Just as her sister was about to answer, the atmosphere shifted. The air, sitting in its calmness, heavied. The silent before slave turned on its feet, its eyes burning holes in Irulan's body. It lurches towards them, opening its obsidian mouth to show the blackened void inside—indeed, it possesses no tongue.

Irulan freezes. The void seems to suck her in, the sharp mouth growing wider as its owner approaches her body. The fear paralyses her, planting her otherwise quick feet deep into the ground. Now, her training as Bene Gesserit should awaken—she should oppose, or at the very least dodge, the attack. But the black mouth continues to draw her in, clouding her thoughts with terror.

The body beside her shifts; her sister is quick. With one strong thrust, she pushes Irulan aside. '' Hide ,'' the voice within her head commands, and Irulan has no force to object to the technique. She crawls under the heavy stone, frantically looking for something—anything—to protect herself with.

Despite the long skirts, her sister moves like Adam's wine; she bends and turns, and strikes the man far taller than her, but he seems determined on the idea of killing her. Her sister grunts under the heavy hits; one sits in her abdomen, and another lands on her knees. The slave's nails leave a trace on her skin, rough enough to pierce the young dermis.

Eventually, her sister grows tired; the slave pushes her to the ground, pressing his slender body on top and closing its white, almost translucent hands on her throat. Irulan clasps the found sharp cutting instrument to her chest, desperately trying to calm the wave of fear forming there. ''I must not fear. Fear is a mind killer,'' she whispers again and again.

She watches as her sister's hand slips under her clothes and emerges an illicit, slender blade—it shines under the light just as lettering did on the books a minute ago. To Irulan, it feels like a year's hundred. ''No!'' she wants to shout as her sister raises the steel and preys it into the eye of the slave, but the words are unable to leave her throat. Like a waterfall, crimson covers her sister's face, staining her light grey dress in hot circles.

The slave falls on his back, his hands leaving their place on her sister's neck.

''Enough, please! Sister, stop!'' Irulan cries, crawling out of her hiding spot but daring not to get closer.

Her sister doesn't hear; she lurches towards the man in a slick puddle and takes his life quickly, cutting his throat in one swift motion. The blood from his arteria leaves the body in pulsations; they spatter everywhere, some drops going as far as touching the shelves.

The silence settles in the chamber once again; only the sound of weakly flowing blood disturbs the stillness. Her sister does not shed a tear; she meticulously cleans the blade with the slave's white cloth and slips it back into the folds of her gown.

''What have you done?'' Irulan whispers. Her hands tremble; the sight before her crawls into the deepest corners of her mind and tears everything there down. How can one kill so easily? How can one be so cold and calculating, as if it were nothing more than a daily chore? How could that one be her sister, the one she shared a life with?

''I protected.'' Her sister's voice is hoarse, but firm. There is no remorse in her tone, only weariness. ''What have you done?'' She turns to face her. Her hair, carefully braided by servants for dinner, is undone; the wet strands of it grip her face like a vice, framing the unseeing eyes.

Like that, she looks like a woman mad. Irulan backs into the safety of the doors, feeling her fear turn into something much greater. ''Do not come near me,'' she commands. Just as the heavy doors close behind her, she sets off running.

YN waits until the footsteps of her sister are no longer heard, and only then does she come out of the reading room. She pays the body on the ground little attention; no one would bet an eye on the death of a useless creature like that. It did not intend to kill; rather, someone made it do it. Who, in their right mind, would try to harm the heir of the Emperor? How would they know that Irulan would follow her there?

Irulan. The one who watched as the Other almost gave her life for hers, the one who had the nerve to be repulsed by the blood on her hands—the blood she spilt protecting her. What do you do when you are not allowed to be angry at God? Why does God shame one for the will she herself inflicted on one to bestone? YN would ask the sun, but it hid behind the walls of the fort. She would ask, but no one would answer.

So, she does what she is meant to do—finds her way into the large dining hall, where everyone, of course, is starting to gather. The Emperor would be dissatisfied to find her not there on time; she has no time to fix her appearance. In light of the slight possibility of shaming their House with her muddled hairstyle or suffering yet another punishment for being even late, she chooses the first option.

The guards let her in without saying a word. YNr watches as the shield slides open, revealing a full hall. Rows and rows of tables, filled with foods one would imagine never would have made their way to the Giedi Prime, and laughter not so usual for a harsh realm.

''Princess...'' the servant starts, announcing her arrival, but she shushes him with a slight wave of her palm. She does not notice the crimson liquid staining it.

The Other makes her way to her seat calmly, careless of the way people around her stumble and twist their faces in shock. The only eyes that watch her without fear at the Emperor's table are those of Lady Echidna. Her face betrays no emotion at all—hidden by her veiled black cloth, it only slightly moves when the YN passes her seat.

She holds the angry gaze of the Emperor calmly. He will demand an answer, of course if Irulan has not whispered the truth into his aged ears already. Her sister probably would do no such thing; in that, she would admit to disobeying the orders bestowed upon her. YN is puzzled at the attention directed towards her humble figure—the first thing a Bene Gessarite in training learns is not to be repulsed by the anatomy of her body. Why be grossed out by the liquid coursing through her veins—the liquid she carries all her life? Why be scared of death, when it is always at your doorstep? In the sway of her thoughts, the Other also seems not to perceive the pair of icy blue eyes glued to her figure as she finds her seat and takes her place.

"The boy follows you around like a dog." The mother's tone stands not in judgment but rather simply states the truth.

Lady Echidna is not veiled now; her heavy hair is still tightly braided out of her face. Just a small black ribbon highlights her status as one of the Emperor's senior concubines, a position most would bear with honour. To her, it was yet another stain on her earthly body—the body she could not call her to possess. The black sun of Giedi Prime is finally long behind them; nothing but a few light orbs floating around illuminate the chamber, yet her intense gaze seems to pierce right through the girl that sits across her.

"I know, mother. His steps are heavy; his thoughts are even heavier; they follow me much more often."

The woman's fingers stop working on an intricate needlework for a moment, before continuing as it was. "You are to call me Sister, girl," she speaks, her voice low.

YN drags her teeth across her tongue, feeling the anger flow through the veins in her body. She wishes to be far away from this small chamber, to run and never face the woman's eyes again. "The girl has a name, Sister. Or do you fear to voice it?"

Lady Echidna places the cloth on the table beside her gracefully, as if paying no attention to the words spoken. But YN can sense can feel the resentment that burns inside her mother's stomach, spreading its molecules to her throat. "A name holds meaning; for a person to have a name, one must first be of character and substance. You are none."

YN bit the soft flesh inside her mouth; it tasted bitter. It was better if her mother shouted, if she hit her if she did anything to prove YN is still here in her eyes, that she was not just a void the woman spoke her riddles into. Maybe then the pain inside her would have a meaning, would have a reason better than just childish hurt. "Did I not have a beating heart when I left your womb, Sister? Did you not hear it loud and clear? What kind of proof is needed more of me?"

"My daughter died that day, screaming. You took her place. So do not bother me with your foolish talks anymore, for we both know they just waste the air we breathe. Am I heard?"

She was. The tears dried on YN's face before having the chance to spill, and she turned to her studies. Once more, a feeling of ever-lasting cold surrounded her shoulders. The never-leaving vision in her mind appeared once again—her mother's quick steps as she walked away in another corridor of Giedi Prime's fort, her head straight ahead as YN pleaded not to leave her alone, her legs glued to the command spoken. It was a blessing that the boy found her earlier than his uncle.

Time has passed since the first time YN's eyes saw the black sun of the foreign planet so far from hers. The Other trained, restlessly, in the tongues of ancient warriors and the most prominent whisperers, slowly earning the right to bear Knowledge in her crown-empty head. She had much yet to learn, but the prospect did not frighten her; with every passing day, she felt power building in her hands and soul. Patience, the greatest virtue of all. She was alone now, without her half of a sister; alone, in her solitude, the heavy bearings seemed not as heavy—she had no one to enlighten about her battles. Still, God was on her mind; YN felt her presence near, her watchful eyes guiding her. Like the tight, dampened cloth on her bruised knuckles, her sister was stuck to her open wound of a soul.

Irulan has grown. Her complexion changed; she no longer looked like a bright-faced girl who left her sister alone in Harkonnen's library; the plump cheeks were gone, and so was fear. At the Other stared a sole statue of power she bloomed into. Silver collars, light blue waves of fabric—the cut is, as always, straight. The Other eyed her up and down, taking in each detail of the painting-like sight. Irulan did the same—a slight disgust at the Other's simple tunic and pants, creased from the sparring. Irulan did not need to be broken in order to be a Sister in the Bene Gesserit; they wanted her Corrino first, and a servant second. The Other, however, held no such value—a child carried not by the lawful wife, a second, a spare. So, there would be no bone in her body left untouched by the lessons, no string in her soul unharmed by the knowledge. They crushed her cartilage in grey sand and forced her to swallow the bitter truths of their ways. Yet, God remains undisturbed—stoic. Eternal.

''Will you not eat again?'' Irulan musses, putting another piece of dish in her mouth.

The Other would take it as a cruel joke from anyone else, but not from God. She shakes her head instead. ''I am forbidden.''

Irulan hums. It was not the first time YN would be disciplined this way; the cycle of punishment and forgiveness was all too familiar to her. The room is silent; there is no one but the two of them. She could offer to eat, and no one would know she did, but Irulan won't offer. The Other does not expect her to; pity is not something a sister can possess.

''How are your lessons going? A fresh knowledge, perhaps?''

YN nods. If she opens her mouth now, her voice will betray her. She could cry all she wanted in the presence of a sister, but it is not appropriate for a thirteen-year-old to behave this way in front of God. The Other is reminded of that with an absence of bruises on Irulan's skin; her hands were never cut by the sharp blades, and her mouth was never starved. ''Why was I summoned from training?'' She asked, directing her eyes to the figure in front of her.

''I am here as a messenger from the Emperor.''

YN's eyes narrowed. ''And what does our dear Emperor desire to tell me now?'' She wishes not to hear anything he has to say; the Other is perfectly content here, amongst her Sisters. Here, she is of cost.

''Recently, Baron Vladimir turned to our House for guidance. He and na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen felt misled by the House Artreidis, and their promise of a bride that did not come. Our father has graciously offered to negotiate the conflict and pay the needed price for the Baron's cooperation.''

''Of course, he did. With all of our might, we are still afraid of the savages that made Arrakis their home. With what advice, may I ask, did the Emperor provide the Baron?''

Irulan's lips turn into a straight line, with the small wrinkle on her forehead appearing. Something that she carried with her through childhood. Something that still reminded of home. ''With the proposal of a woman of our House to na-Baron Feyd-Rautha.''

''A gift? Irulan, I am so sorry.''

Sure, the bridge between them was long forgotten, growing with tall grass and wildflowers, but the weight of their shared history still lingered in the air. Irulan was still her sister, no matter how many times the Other tried to tell herself otherwise. And no woman sane would consider giving her sister to the inhumane brutes that were Harkonnens—the people even Bene Gessarit wished to observe from afar; the people so ruthless mothers told stories about them to their small offspring in an attempt to instil fear and obedience.

Irulan does not answer. She hides her gaze, her eyes following the wooden panels of the quarters.

''What is it, sister? Speak .''

''The offer Emperor found the most fitting would be of your hand, not mine.''

The Other exhales. As if a heavy stone were put on her chest, she fights to bring much-needed oxygen to her bloodstream. She almost feels the erythrocytes scatter from her face into her neck, hidden by the cloth, and gather there in an attempt to regrow their might. Her throat twists and closes, its muscles compressing until not even an ounce of air can get in. All of her organs, from heart to stomach, made their presence known; one by one, they tensed and burned, forcing the otherwise relaxed hands to grip them.

It was supposed to be Irulan. The first one to marry is the oldest sister; the title high enough to satisfy the ambitious Harkonnes would be hers, no less. Yet, here she stands, not even looking at the one taking her place as she sentences her to an ultimate death. No matter how much power the Corrino name held, on Giedi Prime, she would consider herself fortunate enough if she were to meet her end quickly.

''Why, Irulan? Have I not been a loyal servant to you all those years? Have I not followed every order without question? ''

Irulan is unmoved in her position. ''We can not risk the Harkonnen blood getting on the throne, you know it.''

''You mean we can not risk you? We are not eight anymore, dear Irulan; you can speak truthfully now. Do you really think the Emperor will treasure you more if you say nothing now? We are no sons, Irulan; we are sisters, you and I. Please, spare me this fate.''

''Yes,'' the girl lifts her eyes, taking a step closer. ''We are no sons; you knew that one day we would marry for the peace of the Imperium. Why do you shout now?''

''Married, yes, but not murdered for the sake of the fucking old man who could not hold his promise. They are monsters, Irulan, spilling innocent blood for the fun of it. I beg of you, sister, show me the mercy I know you are capable of.''

''You are worried about blood? What could one more splash of blood mean to you? You have been no sister for a long time; I order you, as an heir of the Emperor and as the messenger of his will here, to comply. Do not make it harder than it has to be.''

The Other smiled—she would not grant the pleasure of tears. ''Very well, then. Someone needs to go first. I'll go; I'll be first, at least here. Tell the Emperor that I will comply with any of his wishes, whether it be to throw me to the sharks or to feed me to the sandworms. As a confirmation of my undying loyalty, you may show him this:''

She slaps her. She slaps her not like a warrior, not like the trained assassin she was raised to be; she slaps her like a sister, bitterly, harshly. For the first time in her short life, YN raises a hand on something she deems holy—the God's shocked face brings a sense of satisfaction to the Other's veins, even if the same blood courses through them. She turns on her heels and walks away, leaving the forsaken room behind. Leaving God behind.

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sweetiepoison · 2 months

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Famous Baby Blurb (The Night Out)

You threw your head back allowing the shot of vodka to burn as it went down your throat. You giggled leaning forward, placing the glass back down on the table.

“What number is that?” Willy yelled from across the table.

“8?” You questioned turning your head to look at Auston for confirmation.

“No!” He objected. “I think it’s 9.”

“No.” You protested back. “We had four at Mitch and Steph’s, two when we first got here, and then these two.” You gestured down to the four shot glasses on the table.

“Nuh uh” Auston shook his head. “We had one in the car over here too.”

You tried to remember the car ride to the bar but it felt like it was hours ago now and impossible to recall. “It doesn’t matter, we’re still tied.”

“You can’t admit you’re wrong.” Auston crossed his arms, smirking over at you.

“Yes I can.”

“Then say it.”

“Say what?”

“Say you’re wrong and I’m right.”

“Auston,” you sighed “please just be grateful that I’m even talking to you.”

“You should be the one that’s grateful. Do you know how many girls would kill to be in your spot right now.”

“Enough for your inflated ego to talk about it.”

Auston shrugged pushing your now empty shot glasses to the edge of the table for one of the workers to pick up. “I’m just saying you should feel special.”

You let out a sarcastic laugh, “I’m (y/f/n) (y/l/n), I don’t need anyone to make me feel special.”

It was now Auston’s turn to roll his eyes, “And I’m the one with the big ego?”

“Talk to me when you’re the number one artist in the world”

“Don’t need to worry about it, I’m the number one hockey player in the world.”

“Were options limited this past year?” Your sarcastic tone and tilt of the head didn’t phase Auston.

“They actually chose me based on my skill, not me performing with autotune and short skirts.”

“Sorry what was that” you cupped your left ear “I couldn’t hear you over my auto tuned song.”

Your song that has sat at the #1 spot on the charts for the past few weeks played through the speakers. It was perfect timing. You never got used to hearing your own voice or watching other people sing along to your words, but it was also the best feeling.

You smirked as Auston got up from the table without another word knowing that you won that conversation. You hummed along as ‘Thank u, next’ slowly faded into another song.

“Here.” Auston returned to the table sitting down another shot in front of you. “To inflated egos.”

You laughed, but raised your glass with his and threw the liquid back down your throat.

The night carried on much like the beginning, but somewhere along the way you lost count of your shots, but it got to a point where you no longer cared. You were beyond drunk, but this was the first time in a while you were actually able to enjoy yourself.

Your world tour was about to start up and you knew this was the only break you’d be having for a while. You planned to leave Toronto the next day, go back home to spend time with your family for a few days and then tour starts.

“She’s hammered.” Justin watched as you swayed to the music, holding onto Steph.

“At least they’re having fun.” Morgan commented, also watching all the girls giggle and dance together.

“How many shots did you guys end up taking?”

“Twelve, but she thinks it’s higher.” Auston explained, “she’s been cut off since midnight, I payed the bartender to replace all of her drinks and shots with water.”

Both Morgan and Justin shared a look and then put their attention onto Auston.

“What?” Auston asked noticing the way they were looking at him.

“That’s just a nice thing to do for someone you hate.” Morgan shrugged not wanting to make it a big deal.

“I figured her getting alcohol poisoning would put a hold on the whole tour thing. Consider it community service.”

“Well, thank you for your service.” Morgan chuckled standing up, “but I’m getting Tessa and we’re going to go home before she damages something.”

As morgan approached the group of girls to grab his wife you all immediately began booing and begging him to let Tessa stay a little longer. When it became clear your pleas weren’t going to work you all made your way back to the group.

You attempted to place your glass down on the table but it slipped out of your hand and landed with a thud on the ground.

“Okay.” Justin picked up the glass. “That’s it your done for the night.”

“No.” You pouted crossing your arms. “I out drank Auston, so now I’m celebrating.” You refused to take no for an answer leaning across the table to grab another glass.

“Nope.” Auston picked up the glass before you could reach it.

“Auston.” You glared at him from across the table.

“You won, there’s nothing else to prove, time to go home.” Auston leaned back, knowing there would be no argument and that his word would be final.

“Don’t talk to me like im a child.”

“Then stop acting like one.”

“Justin.” You huffed and turned too quickly toward your best friend causing you to stumble, but the mishap didn’t stop you, “Tell Auston to shut up.”

But before he could respond Morgan and Tessa were back, “We have a problem. Papparazi are outside and they aren’t leaving until you two come out. Morgan pointed toward you and Justin.

“She can’t even walk straight right now.” Justin pointed at you leaning against the table for support.

“Okay then what do we do because we have about 30 minutes until this place closes.” Willy reminded all of you looking down at his watch.

“I can call and get one of my guys to pick us up out front.” Justin gestured between himself and Hailey. “But I’m not letting her go out there like this.” He gestured toward you.

“Tell Mike to come around to the back.” Auston learned your drivers name from earlier when he dropped you all off at the bar. You insisted he take you, not trusting anyone else. “I’ve got an idea.”

Once the plan was set into place, Morgan, Tessa, Mitch, Steph, Willy, and a few of the younger guys all left first. Justin and Hailey prepared to leave next, preparing you as well without you knowing.

“Trust me. You guys go out the front and at the same time I’ll take her out the back, they’ll never know.” Auston reassured Justin.

“She’s gonna fight you, once she realizes what’s going on.”

“I can handle her.”

As Justin and Hailey walked toward the front door you frowned realizing that they were actually leaving not going to get another round like you thought.

Auston picked you up and placed you over his shoulder before you could react. You immediately began hitting his back and yelling at him to put you down. He got you to the back where Mike was waiting and placed you in the car getting in after.

“Don’t ever do that again!” You yelled stressing the first two words.

“Don’t worry, I don’t plan on it.” Auston put his hands up in defense.

“First off, I dont need you man handling me to get me out of a bar!” You yelled throwing your arms in the air, “Secondly, why did you wake him up?” Your finger flew toward the front seat.

Mike had been working as your driver since the beginning and more often than not where you went he followed. However, you never liked to make him stay up late just for you.

“You couldn’t stand up straight, let alone walk.” Auston fired back his voice also rising to match yours. “And it was either wake him up or your picture would be on the front page of every magazine tomorrow morning, drunk and stumbling.” Auston didn’t expect you to be overjoyed with how things went down, but he didn’t intend for you to be so ungrateful.

You knew you were wrong, but being stubborn was something you were good at. And you weren’t ready to apologize yet, so you crossed your arms and shifted your body so you were facing the window.

You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or all the bumps in the Toronto streets but you soon began to feel sick.

“Mike, can I please have a bag?” You asked waiting for the plastic bag to be handed back. As soon as it was you were throwing up into it.

You felt hands that could only belong to Auston bundle your hair into a ponytail as he held it out of your face. You wished you only got sick once, but unfortunately it was three more times before you sat back up. You tied up the bag and placed it on the ground and wiped your mouth.

“Thank you.” You mumbled as Auston let go of your hair and sat back in his seat.

“Don’t mention it.” He replied. The car fell back into silence and that’s how it remained for the rest of the drive.

The next morning you left Toronto very early, but not before you dropped off a gift at Scotiabank arena. Auston arrived to afternoon practice expecting it to be a tough one, but what he didn’t expect was the envelope waiting in his locker for him. It was blank except for one sentence ‘thank you and I’m sorry’

He opened up the envelope and smiled at the contents. Inside were six vip tickets to your show in Arizona along with backstage passes.

It was over three months ago when Auston explained that his little cousins loved you and wanted to attend your concert but it sold out before they could buy tickets, of course this admission was also followed by a jab about him not understanding why anyone would want to see you. But you remembered the conversation and figured it was the start to an apology.

He tucked the envelope into his bag and sent you a quick text. ‘Thanks, I’ll see you in Arizona’

#famous reader #hockey #maple leafs #nhl blurb #nhl #toronto maple leafs #celebrity reader #hockey imagine #justin bieber #william nylander #mitch marner #morgan rielly #steph marner #tessa virtue #bar #nhl imagine

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mooselybased · 5 months

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Alright fellas, we've done it! Our thirtieth Adventure Zone platform fighter moveset, none other than one of my all-time favorite NPCs, Garfield the Deals Warlock! I'm gonna be taking a break from new movesets now, but maybe I'll return to this series sometime on the horizon.

I'll be honest, I really wanted a Kirby-like character in this, with copy abilities and whatnot, and Garfield seemed like the funniest choice. So that's what led to all this.

Garfield's neutral special has him attempt to steal some blood from a nearby opponent. If successful, he will replicate that opponents neutral special (and get a matching hat) until he loses a stock or it gets beaten out of him.

Garfield's side special has him toss out a grenade, which will bounce around somewhat unpredictably for a second before exploding.

Garfield's up special has him whip out a shopping cart and dash in the direction held. The trajectory is able to be curved somewhat mid-dash. Passing through an item or opponent will put them in the cart, giving Garfield the item or launching the opponent at the end of the dash

Garfield's down special has him briefly whip out his bag of holding and hold it wide open. The bag can absorb three attacks, projectiles, or items. Once it has taken in three things, the next use of this move will launch an amount of gold coins dependent on what was absorbed.

Garfield's finale has him start singing the Fantasy Costco jingle. For the duration of the song, a deluge of items from the Fantasy Costco will rapidly fall from the sky at random locations. Some do more damage than others (looking at you, flaming poisoning raging sword of doom).

#moose doodles #taz #the adventure zone #the zone cast #hypothetical taz fighter #garfield the deals warlock #taz balance #fantasy costco

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iridescent-petrichor · 11 months

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my brain holds too many poisons

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Kook!Reader

Warnings: drinking, jj gets drunk and stupid twice, reader's boyfriend sucks

Words: 10K (holy shit)

A/N: Officially my longest fic !! i'm really happy with this one, I've had this song stuck in my head for weeks crafting this fic!! shoutout to two of my closest friends for giving me a bunch of ideas for this :D

(this is a songfic by the way!)

I called you with a few too many drinks in me

Saying JJ was drunk would be an understatement. It was nearing the end of a kegger thrown down at the Boneyard, and he was definitely more than a few drinks deep at this point. The entire night, he’d kept an eye out, looking over the crowd and scanning it every so often just to make sure he didn’t miss you.

You, however, skipped out on the party tonight. Instead, you were spending the night with your new boyfriend, Roman, who JJ openly despised. He was another snobby rich kid from Figure Eight that wasn’t good enough for someone like you.

JJ knew it wasn’t his place to judge who you were dating when he couldn’t even man up enough to ask you out, but he couldn’t help but remind you as often as he could that Roman didn’t deserve you. You brushed him off every time, always coming up with some excuse for him that JJ didn’t believe.

The thought of you skipping out on him to stay with your boyfriend made JJ feel sick, and it wasn’t long before he was pulling his phone out, calling you before he could think better of it.

Well, at least you didn't answer

When you didn’t answer, his heart sank to the floor. He didn’t like the thought of you being alone with him. As much as you constantly assured him that he was a good guy, that he cared about you, JJ knew guys like him all too well.

Your voicemail rang through his ears, and he couldn’t help the smile pulling at his lips at the sound of your voice. It distracted him long enough that there was suddenly a loud beep, flustering him as his voicemail began.

“Oh shit,” He blinked, not prepared to actually leave you a message. “Uh, hey sweetheart. Shit- I didn’t mean to call you that-”

John B, who had been staying relatively sober the whole night so he could drive everyone to his house once the party died down, noticed JJ off to the side, muttering something on the phone. It must’ve been some sixth sense John B had for knowing whenever JJ was doing something stupid, but he instantly excused himself from his conversation and started making his way toward his best friend.

“I just- I really think you’re better than that asshole. I know you hate when I say that shit, but he really doesn’t deserve you. You’re bright, and- and you can cheer anyone up just by being around them. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen and I just need you to know that. I need you to know that you deserve better than him. I would treat you better than he does. I know I would. I love you, Y/N, I love you so much.”

At this point, John B reached JJ, pulling the phone away from his ear and quickly hanging up, shoving the phone in his shorts pocket before JJ could do any more damage.

“What are you doing?” John B asked now that JJ’s attention was on him.

“Was just callin’ Y/N.” He answered, a slight slur in his speech that made John B understand how bad of an idea that was.

John B sighed, putting an arm around JJ, and quickly guiding him in the direction of the Twinkie. “Let’s get you home, big guy.”

Woke up, prayed to God it was only a dream

JJ woke up, immediately feeling the pain of the killer hangover he had. Forcing himself to sit up in the bed he didn’t remember stumbling into the night before, he looked around the room. It didn’t take long to realize he was in the guest room at the Chateau, the room that had become unofficially his after so many years of friendship with John B.

His head was still pounding as he tried to piece together what had happened the night before. Instinctively, he reached for where his phone would be on the nightstand, confused to find it wasn’t there.

That’s when the memories started to come back to him.

He was drunk. He was wasted. He tried calling you. You didn’t answer. He said he loved you. He said he loved you.

“Oh, fuck.” He dropped his throbbing head into his hands, rubbing his temples. “Oh, I’m so fucked.”

You were in the shower when JJ called you the night before, and your boyfriend was the one to notice your phone buzzing where you’d left it on the bed. He didn’t answer, of course he didn’t, not when JJ was the one calling, he instead watched it ring. It wasn’t until he noticed JJ left a voicemail that his interest was piqued.

Glancing in the direction of the bathroom, he could still hear the shower running. Quickly, he reached to grab your phone, typing in the passcode.

You told him your passcode offhandedly one day when you asked him to respond to a text from Kiara while you were driving, and he remembered it ever since. He told himself it was just in case, and as he listened to JJ’s voicemail, he convinced himself he was doing this out of love.

His fists clenched when he heard JJ’s confession. It was obvious he was drunk, but Roman knew hearing this would ruin everything. It would destroy the relationship he worked so hard to build.

By the time he finished the voicemail, he heard you turn the shower off, hurriedly deleting the voicemail before tossing your phone back on the bed.

Well, at least I took my chances

JJ trudged out of the bedroom, seeing John B cooking breakfast, along with Kiara and Pope still fast asleep on either side of the pullout couch.

“Morning, sunshine.” John B chuckled, giving JJ a look. “How’s the headache?”

“Fuck off.” JJ groaned, peering at what John B was cooking. He reached forward, plucking a strip of freshly cooked bacon off the plate they’d been set on, dodging John B swatting at him with the spatula.

“Your phone’s on the table.” John B said, pointing halfheartedly to the kitchen table.

JJ groaned again, not wanting to be reminded of the consequences of him calling you.

“Hey, at least you finally took your chances.” John B couldn’t help but laugh, earning a light smack on the arm from JJ.

“Shut up, dude.”

When JJ picked up his phone, he swore his heart stopped when he saw a text from you.

When you got out of the shower, you threw some pajamas on and walked back into the bedroom, your boyfriend was giving you an unreadable look.

“What?” You asked, trying to smile at him, your grin faltering when he didn’t react.

“JJ called you.” His tone was flat, and you tilted your head in confusion.

“Okay…? Is he alright? Did he need a ride home, or…?” Your mind wandered to JJ at the party. He was no doubt drunk out of his mind, and you were worried he’d gone and gotten himself hurt. Surely someone would’ve had his back, you knew the rest of the pogues were at the party as well.

Roman sighed heavily in a way that made you tense. “I think you should keep your distance from him.”

Your jaw dropped. “What? What the fuck are you talking about?”

When he stood up, you immediately shut your mouth despite the firm look you were still giving him.

“He’s my friend, Roman.” You insisted, though your voice was much quieter now.

“He wants to jeopardize our relationship.” His voice was low, and the way he stepped closer to you almost felt threatening.

“He- what?” JJ would never do that. You knew he didn’t approve of your boyfriend, he made that very clear, but would he actually try to jeopardize your relationship?

“Just- here.” He grabbed your phone off the bed, shoving it in your hand. You took it hesitantly, still giving him a confused look. “Just text him. Tell him you’re not gonna speak to him again.”

“What?!” You looked up at him, mouth agape in shock. He couldn’t be serious, right?

When his face darkened, you gripped your phone just a bit tighter. “He wants to ruin our relationship. You’re gonna have to make a choice here.”

Part of you wanted to keep arguing, to say that you could talk to JJ, that you would sort it out. But something in the look in Roman’s eyes made you nod, backing down.

“Okay. I’ll text him.”

You said you never wanted to speak again

“She text you?” John B asked, not looking up from the eggs he was cooking.

JJ didn’t respond, still staring down at the text.

Please don’t speak to me anymore.

“JJ?” John B glanced up at him before scraping the eggs onto a plate, walking over to see the phone.

JJ moved so John B could see it, still saying nothing. The silence hung in the air for a while before John B spoke again.

“Holy shit.”

JJ sighed, tossing his phone back onto the table with a loud enough clatter that it startled Kiara and Pope from their sleep, looking between him and John B with furrowed brows. Kiara opened her mouth to tell him off for waking her up before noticing the tension in the room.

“Dude, it’s probably not that bad.” John B tried to say, but JJ grimaced.

“Not that bad? I fucked everything up!” He resisted the urge to hit something, pacing back and forth in the room clenching and unclenching his fists.

“Can someone please explain what the hell is going on?” Kiara spoke up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

“JJ drunk dialed Y/N last night and told her he’s in love with her.”

“Dude!” JJ snapped, glaring at John B. He shrugged back lamely, mouthing an apology.

“Is that not what happened?” John B asked under his breath, grabbing a couple plates of food and handing them off to Kiara and Pope.

“She’s got a boyfriend, man,” Pope said through a bite of food.

JJ rubbed a hand over his eyes, sighing heavily. “Yeah, Pope. Thanks. I’m well aware of that.”

Kiara stretched forward, grabbing JJ’s phone off the table to see the text. Pope leaned close to her, peering over her shoulder to read it as well.

“Oh.” She cringed, setting the phone back on the table with a pitying look. “Yeah, that’s… not great.”

“Thanks, Kie,” JJ said dryly, shooting her a halfhearted glare. “Real helpful.

“Maybe you can reason with her?” She said, taking a bite of food. “I mean, this’ll all blow over in like a week, I’m sure.”

I was never one to listen

The next morning, you’d barely finished getting ready for the day when you felt your phone buzzing on the table you set it down on. Roman looked up from his spot on your bed, eyeing you before turning his gaze to your phone.

“I can answer that.” He said, standing.

You almost mindlessly agreed until you saw the contact name.

JJ Maybank.

“Wait- Uh, I’ll get it.” You caught the look Roman gave you as you grabbed your phone, shrinking in on yourself. “I’ll just- I’ll tell him to leave me alone.”

The words felt bitter on your tongue, but you couldn’t bring yourself to stand up to Roman. It wasn’t that your boyfriend was a bad person, he was just… protective. And he seemed to know something you didn’t about JJ wanting to ruin your relationship, so maybe you should just believe him.

With a sigh, unsure of if you actually believed him or if you were just trying to convince yourself of the fact, you answered the call and brought your phone to your ear.

“JJ-”

“Hey! Holy shit, I didn’t think you’d answer! Uh, listen-” JJ started talking quickly, trying to explain, but the longer you stayed silent, the more you could feel the tension coming from your boyfriend.

“Please don’t call me, JJ.” Despite how weak you felt your voice was, it instantly made JJ fall silent.

You hung up without another word, exhaling shakily, trying with all your might to ignore the reality of what you’d done. Even a month ago if you were told to not speak to JJ, you would’ve laughed in their face. Things felt so different now, and it made you feel sick.

“Thank you.” Roman smiled at you, but the grin on his face resembled that of a shark.

You felt your phone buzzing, still in your hand. JJ was calling you again. Quickly, you shut it off, shoving it in your back pocket, forcing yourself to return Roman’s smile.

And it's fine, just wish you'd get out of my head

JJ had never gone this long without seeing you, not since the two of you became friends. It had been a little over two weeks since you last spoke to him, and he felt like he was going insane. You hadn’t hung out with the pogues since before that fateful night. They never stopped reaching out, though, telling you every plan they made just in case you decided to show.

Your response was always the same: Sorry! I’m hanging with Roman tonight. Another time!

JJ tried to play it off like he was fine, like he didn’t care. Still, every time Kiara would text you to ask if you could make it only to get a measly text apologizing for missing out, everyone could see the way JJ’s face fell. Whenever they met up, he counted the heads, heart sinking just a little when he saw you weren’t there. Everyone saw the way his grin faltered when your name was mentioned, or the way his attention snapped to anyone that looked a little too much like you, sounded a little too much like you, or laughed a little too much like you.

Every time JJ found himself surrounded by his best friends, he couldn’t help but notice the empty seat that was always left open – a silent agreement to keep it available just in case. It stayed empty every time, though, and JJ was never able to take his eyes off it.

Well, you never did

It was another party. Being deep in the throes of Summer, there were new parties nearly every night, and the pogues joined more than half the time. Tonight was unlike any other, and everyone was piling into the Twinkie for a kegger.

JJ pulled his flask out of his shorts pocket, taking a quick swig as John B parked outside the beach, the rest of the pogues clambering out of the van the second the car stopped moving. John B tossed the keys to Pope, who had agreed to be the designated driver for the night. The pogues often took turns, with the exception of JJ, who recently had gotten into a habit of getting as drunk as possible to drown out any thoughts of you any chance he could get.

It wasn’t long before the group had a few drinks, with JJ being much further gone than anyone else. The pogues were keeping a worried eye on him, exchanging looks with each other every time he went to grab another drink.

JJ was leaning against a tree now, only half listening to the conversation between John B and Pope when he noticed you a good distance away. Your boyfriend was a few feet away from you, and JJ couldn’t help but notice the fact that you clearly weren’t getting the attention you deserved.

JJ could feel his heart beat just a little faster at the sight of you, sat on a log and watching your boyfriend talk to his friends. Roman wasn’t even looking at you, and JJ could see the way your face fell at the lack of attention. He knows you’re so much better than that asshole, but he also knows he can’t be the one to tell you that.

Not anymore.

Still, JJ isn’t able to take his eyes off of you, and as he downed another drink, he barely acknowledged whatever question Pope was asking him.

My brain holds too many poisons

JJ nearly winced at the sight of you. He knew he could treat you better. He knew you deserved to be treated like royalty, and all Roman saw you as was arm candy.

“JJ?” He turned at the sound of Pope’s voice, not bothering to mask the annoyance on his face. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” JJ waved him off, looking back to you and the way you were sitting on the edge of your seat to watch Roman chat with his friends. You were trying so hard to seem like you were enjoying yourself, but JJ had always known you better. He can see every movement of yours, awkwardly fiddling with your hands in your lap, glancing around the crowd every so often, and the forced smile on your face that didn’t quite reach your eyes. It was always the little things that JJ noticed about you, that your boyfriend would never bother to care about.

Suddenly, JJ stands, ignoring the looks from John B and Pope. Kiara had disappeared from the group a while ago, mingling with some people she’d met a few times before.

“I’m getting another drink.”

He pushed through the crowd, weaving past drunk teenagers until he got to the keg of beer, refilling his solo cup.

“How many drinks does this make?” Kiara’s voice made him spin around, facing her with a forced smile.

“Lost track.” He raised the cup, tapping it against her own. “Cheers.”

She gives him a firm look, one of her hands on her waist. “I think you’ve had enough.”

JJ shook his head, walking beside her in the direction of where Pope and John B were still standing. “Not yet.”

Kiara exchanged worried looks with the boys when they finally approached before making herself comfortable, taking a seat next to John B.

Loud laughter and cheering from afar pulled JJ’s attention away from his friends, glancing over and seeing your boyfriend in the middle of a game of beer pong with his kook friends. JJ rolled his eyes, the story Kiara started telling going entirely unnoticed while he stared down your boyfriend, taking another swig from his solo cup.

They helped me make the wrong choices

“Hey,” Pope reached a hand out, tapping JJ on the arm a few times to get him to look away from Roman. “Are you even paying attention?”

JJ leans away from Pope, lazily hitting his hand away. He looked at Pope for only a moment, making a face at him before turning his focus back to you.

You were sat with your hands still in your lap, wearing an outfit that JJ knew you well enough to know you were uncomfortable in. Your boyfriend wasn’t far off, still hard at work in his game of beer pong.

John B took note of his friend’s distraction now, following JJ’s gaze and sighing to himself when he saw you. “JJ, don’t do anything you’re gonna regret.”

JJ didn’t respond. He was still focused on the way you were looking at Roman. You had reached up at this point, fiddling with the necklace you were wearing absentmindedly. The same necklace JJ bought you for your birthday almost two years ago. It tugged at his heartstrings to know that you were still wearing it, but he wasn’t surprised. You’d worn it every day since JJ bought it for you, of course you still had it on.

When you stood up, JJ tensed, watching you step toward Roman. You placed a gentle hand on his arm, trying to whisper something to him. Without even looking in your direction, Roman nudged you away from him, muttering something JJ couldn’t hear that made you frown.

The dejected look on your face was enough to have JJ downing the rest of his drink, handing the empty cup off to John B, ignoring the pogues calling after him.

We all make stupid mistakes sometimes

Before JJ could think better of what he was doing, he was storming across the beach, sand kicking up under his feet. There was something in the way your gaze softened looking at Roman despite how much he was ignoring you that made his chest feel tight. You didn’t deserve that. You may not want to talk to him, but he needed you to know you deserved better.

“Hey!” JJ’s voice made Roman’s head snap up to him, along with each of his friends. You looked up as well, eyes wide when you saw how quickly JJ was approaching.

You were the only one who wasn’t staring JJ down like he was their next target.

Roman gave JJ a lazy smile that looked more like a grimace. “JJ Maybank. What can I do for you?”

JJ stopped right in front of him, the alcohol in his system mixing with the rage he felt boiling over. “You too good to pay attention to your girlfriend all of a sudden?”

Roman blinked, his eyes darkening as he glanced at you with a look you couldn’t quite decipher before he looked back to JJ. He stepped closer, trying to intimidate JJ with the few inches he had above him, despite not having the strength that JJ had.

“What did you say?”

The beer pong game had now been officially paused, and every kook in the area was watching JJ’s every move. Everyone was on edge, waiting for the pogue to do something worthy of jumping him.

As if they ever needed a reason.

“You heard me.” JJ sneered, his jaw clenching. “Too good to pay attention to your girlfriend?”

But I make them more than most

When Roman grabbed the front of JJ’s shirt, he swore he heard you gasp. He pulled JJ close to him, breathing heavily.

“Walk away, Maybank.” He said through gritted teeth, glaring down at JJ. The crowd around them was growing by the second, and it was almost entirely kooks. There was hardly anyone around that would jump to his defense. He started to wonder if you would jump to his defense, or your boyfriend’s.

JJ glanced toward you, realizing with a start that for the first time in weeks, your full attention was on him, and it only encouraged him further.

Turning back to Roman, he couldn’t hold back the smirk on his face. “Or what?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw you stand up, nervously hovering near the interaction in case anything happened. It made JJ wonder again who you were more worried about.

If he got hurt would you go to him? Or would you let Roman drag you away from him again?

“Or we’ll escort you out of here.” A kook that had been playing beer pong piped up, earning a glare from JJ.

“Did I ask you?” JJ took a few steps in his direction, momentarily forgetting the grasp Roman had on his shirt until he stopped him.

“I think you should go back to your own turf,” Roman said, leaning down to talk right in JJ’s ear, quiet enough that only he could hear him. “Pogue.”

And it's my fault that I live my life

The sound of JJ’s fist colliding with Roman’s jaw instantly incited chaos within the crowd. Kooks were on JJ within a second, but all of his focus was stuck on Roman. The punch sent him stumbling to the ground, but he was quick to rally, jumping back up and throwing a punch that almost knocked JJ off balance.

“JJ!” Your voice was muffled by the ringing in his ears, but he couldn’t shake the knowledge that you were worried about him.

You cared. You care.

JJ rolled his head back, planting his feet and glaring at Roman, who was cocky enough that he let the other kooks let him go, calling for a fair fight.

He knew most of these kooks worked out like it was their only hobby – in all honesty, it probably was, but he also knew better than anyone that strength is useless if you don’t know how to fight.

And JJ knows how to fight.

He took a deep breath, his fists clenching and unclenching for a moment before he lunged forward, ducking to avoid another hit from Roman, tackling him into the sand.

Running away from ghosts

Once he had Roman on the ground, JJ hovered above him, hitting him again.

The kooks surrounding them were screaming now, and a few of them tried to pull him up off of Roman. He shook them off, raising his fist again.

“Just like your old man, aren’t you?” Roman’s voice was weak, but it made JJ freeze.

While the crowd continued to yell and scream and cheer, JJ couldn’t hear a damn thing other than his own heartbeat, the only thing repeating in his head – just like your old man, aren’t you?

JJ saw red, bringing his fist down again and again, deaf to the crowd around him.

He didn’t see the kooks staring at him in fear, didn’t see the few pogues in the crowd whispering, didn’t see you standing at the front of the crowd, jaw agape as you watched this happen.

Word was spreading quickly through the party, whispers of the pogue beating the shit out of a kook rippling throughout the Boneyard and eventually, everyone at the party was aware of what was happening.

By the time Kiara, Pope, and John B got wind of what the crowd was surrounding, there were so many people they could barely get through to get to JJ.

Too many skeletons

Roman managed to shove JJ off, causing him to fall backwards into the sand. He caught your eye for just a moment, distracting him long enough that Roman was able to land a solid punch.

The look in your eyes made JJ’s stomach churn nauseatingly, and he swore seeing you that terrified was more painful than the punch itself. He couldn’t decipher who you were actually worried about, but when he saw Roman reeling back to hit him again, he knew he didn’t have the time to worry about it.

Rolling to the side, he barely managed to dodge Roman’s fist. When he missed, it made Roman tumble forward, giving JJ the opportunity to clamber to his feet.

The kooks steered clear of JJ this time, no one daring to interfere now. Still, he could hear the kooks egging Roman on when JJ wiped the fresh blood dripping from the cut on his lip.

Despite himself, he looked at you once more.

The fear in your eyes made him tense, but you still didn’t look away from him. It made him realize that ever since the fight began, you’d only been looking at him.

Too hard to keep them in the closet where they've been

He looked at you long enough to see your head shake just slightly, but before he could respond, Roman was knocking him to the ground. He felt another hit to the face, dizzying him for a moment before he shoved Roman to the side, hard enough that JJ was able to climb up and land another punch to the face.

He hit him hard, noticing a few spots of blood staining the sand around them.

The pain stinging his face and knuckles was getting harder to ignore, but he wasn’t one to back away from a fight. Especially from a kook who deserved to get a few teeth knocked in.

“Roman, don’t-” Your voice rang out, just before he noticed Roman’s hand closing around an empty beer bottle.

He brought it over JJ’s head, and JJ just barely reacted in time, throwing his hands up to block it, wincing when it shattered over his arms.

“JJ!” He heard you shriek. He almost felt proud in a sickening way, that it was his name you called out, that it was him you were worried about, that it was him you wanted to be okay.

We all make stupid mistakes sometimes

JJ dropped his hands from in front of his face, vaguely aware of the cuts along his arms from the shards of glass. He wanted to look at you, wanted to see how you were feeling.

More than anything, he wanted to hold you.

But still, Roman was glaring up at him, and JJ had to lurch back to avoid getting hit across the face. Quickly, JJ brought a hand back, ready to hit him again.

Before he could, though, two arms wrapped around him and dragged him up to his feet. He struggled instinctively, before realizing it was only John B. His brows were furrowed, and he was going off on him, lecturing him about something he couldn’t process with his heartbeat still loud in his ears and adrenaline still flowing in his veins.

He dragged JJ away from the scene, shoving past kooks that were sneering at the two of them, and continuing to scold him.

You're the one that I miss the most

He looked back only one time while John B was dragging him off to the Twinkie, his breath catching in his throat when he saw you. You were gently lifting Roman to his feet, running a hand over a cut on his cheek like you’d done so often to JJ.

It made his chest burn to know you weren’t his.

John B sat JJ in the passenger seat of the Twinkie, and only then did JJ see Kiara and Pope also trailing behind them, now climbing into the van after him.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get you out of his head. The image of you staring at him in horror was burned into his mind. Over and over, he could hear you calling his name, the way your voice cracked when you were terrified for him.

Worst of all, he couldn’t stop thinking of how quickly you went to Roman the second the fight was over.

Pope gave him a concerned look every minute or so while he drove to the Chateau. Everyone knew how uncharacteristic it was for JJ to be so quiet, but no one wanted to bring up what had just happened.

He was spiraling, and everyone knew it. Even him.

JJ pulled his phone out, sending you a text before he could stop himself.

I saw that a text I sent was left on read

Once they got to the Chateau, John B followed JJ into the guest room, dipping quickly into the bathroom to grab the first aid kit on the way there.

“You’re an idiot.” John B’s tone was harsh, and he set the first aid kit on the nightstand, disappearing for less than a minute to wet a cloth and appearing back in the room to start cleaning up his wounds.

“I know.” JJ’s voice was hoarse, and he was so resigned that John B almost faltered. He thought JJ would still be defensive, and it would lead to an argument.

There was nothing left from JJ, though. He was like a walking corpse, just running on autopilot with the knowledge that you were gone for good.

JJ pulled his phone back out, looking at the text he sent you from the car.

I’m sorry.

You read it a little over ten minutes ago.

He couldn’t stop thinking about all the times he’d gone to you after a fight. You would always chastise him for getting hurt or getting in a fight in the first place, but you were always impossibly gentle.

Gentle in a way John B wasn’t. In a way he couldn’t be. Because no matter how carefully John B tried to help him, he still wasn’t you.

“Ow, dude!” JJ swatted John B’s hand away from his face when he dragged over a cut a little too harshly, grabbing the wet cloth from him. “Jesus, I’ll do it myself.”

Well, I guess I get the message

John B sighed, dropping his head in disappointment before looking back up at him, a stern look on his face.

“Fine. I’ll leave you be. But jesus, JJ, you have to get your shit together.”

JJ nodded, watching John B leave without another word, closing the door to the bedroom a little harder than usual.

Taking a deep breath, JJ stared back down at his phone.

Then he threw it across the room.

It landed on the carpet, rolling a few times before finally stopping. Luckily, it was unharmed, but that still didn’t quell JJ’s anger.

He stood from his spot on the bed, running a hand through his hair, cursing to himself.

“What the fuck, JJ? What the fuck is wrong with you?” He muttered, pacing from one end of the room to the other.

How could he be so stupid? Why did he have to call you that night? Why did he have to ruin everything?

JJ finally dropped back into the bed, fighting back the harsh tears stinging in his eyes. His energy was entirely sapped, and the damp cloth John B was using to clean up his wounds had gone long forgotten on the nightstand beside the still unopened first aid kit.

I lied when I said I really loved your friends

After carefully guiding Roman away from the crowd and inside, you could still hear your friends talking about what happened. You used the term friends loosely, as they were mostly people you knew through Roman, most of which you’d only spoken to a few times.

Now that you set Roman down on a couch, you were staring down at the text JJ just sent you when you happened to overhear the conversation happening behind you.

“I mean, he’s just out of control!” A girl you’d spoken to maybe three times had said. Her name was Mandi, you caught the way she was looking at your boyfriend the whole night. It didn’t hurt as much as you thought it would.

“I know!” Another girl spoke up. She’d introduced herself to you earlier, but you couldn’t remember her name for the life of you. “It’s no surprise though, those pogues are insane!”

You stiffened. They were talking about JJ. Your JJ.

“Well, it’s no shocker, right? Have you seen his dad? He spends so much time locked up, of course he raised someone like that!”

You turned, momentarily forgetting your boyfriend and the bruises all over his face.

JJ had always been polite when you had to sneak off to hang out with the kooks. When you called them your friends, JJ never said anything about it, even though you could see how little he trusted them. You knew better than anyone how much JJ hated them, but he never slandered them to you, all he would do is carefully remind you of your worth.

That’s always what he’d done. Remind you of your worth. And you were worth more than this.

Well, I never did

“Can you just shut up?” The words spilled from your lips before you could catch them, and suddenly everyone was staring at you.

“Excuse me?” One of the girls gives you a look, expecting you to back down the instant you got any pushback.

“Don’t tell me you’re defending the guy that beat the shit out of your boyfriend.” Another said, and you briefly remembered where you were, who you were surrounded by. You cast a guilty look to Roman, who was still sat on the couch, now glaring harshly at you.

“I-” Your brain felt scrambled, trapped between your best friends and the group of kooks staring at you. “JJ’s my friend.”

The girls exchanged looks, holding back a laugh. You took a step away from them, beginning to realize that you’ve been more worried about JJ than Roman this whole time.

For a moment, you remembered the day JJ pulled you aside to remind you how much better than these kooks you were. You tried to brush him off, but he wouldn’t let you. He kept his hands on your shoulders until he felt like he’d cemented the fact that you deserved better in your mind.

“You know what?” Your voice sounded much stronger than you felt. “You’re all assholes.”

With that, you spun around, heading towards the door. For a second, you weren’t sure of where you were going, but the destination was engrained deep within your soul.

My brain holds too many poisons

Just before you could get to the door, you felt a hand on your arm, pulling you back.

“Y/N.” Roman’s voice was tight, holding back a deep anger. “Don’t leave.”

Looking up at him, you hesitated. His eye was swollen, and there was a cut on his cheek with a dark bruise forming along his jaw. When he opened his mouth, you could see blood faintly staining his teeth.

“JJ’s my friend.” You repeated, keeping your voice even.

“Well, your friend just attacked me.” He kept his hand on your arm, tightening his grip a little more. “I can’t believe you’re still defending him after what he did, you’re insane!”

You were too conflicted. Sure, it hurt seeing him like this, but you couldn’t shake the worry you had for JJ. It was a worry you couldn’t shake after being the one to clean him up after a fight so many times.

“I’m not-” You stopped, taking a breath to collect your thoughts.

“Not what? He’s just trying to ruin our relationship, why can’t you see that?” The way he raised his voice made you flinch back, eyes wide with shock. “He’s always been trying to ruin us, ever since- ever since he left you that stupid voicemail!”

They helped me make the wrong choices

Every part of your body tensed up, staring at him.

“What voicemail?”

It felt like something was happening around you, like there was something big looming just behind you but you couldn’t see it yet.

Roman hesitated, his grip on your arm loosening enough that you could pull away. “I didn’t mean-”

“What voicemail, Roman?” It felt like you were outside of your own body watching this happen. Your voice felt distant, as if you weren’t the one speaking.

“Nothing.” He reached out for your hand, growing exasperated. The way he tried to grab you felt performative, like he was trying to play the part of the perfect boyfriend. “Let’s just talk, okay? In private.” He glanced for a moment at the group of girls still standing nearby, whispering while they stared the two of you down.

All he cared about was his reputation.

You took a step back, your brows furrowing. “No.”

“No?” He looked at you, the possessive tone making your stomach churn. “Y/N. Let’s talk.”

Another few steps and you’d be at the door. You could leave right now if you wanted.

But you needed answers.

“What. Voicemail.” You asked again, twisting your arm away from him when he tried to grab it.

We all make stupid mistakes sometimes

Roman sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“That night he called you. He left a voicemail.” He started to explain, not looking at you.

“No, he didn’t.” You looked at him, confused, taking another step away from him. “No, he- I didn’t see a voicemail. He didn’t leave a voicemail.”

Still refusing to look at you, Roman shook his head.

“That’s cause I deleted it.”

And the ball drops.

You stared at him for a long time, feeling your world turning upside down in real time. A trust broken forever in the blink of an eye.

“How did you even-” You whispered, taking another step back. Just a few more and you’d be gone.

“You told me your phone password a few months ago.” Despite the guilt in his tone, when he finally met your gaze, he looked at you as if it was your fault. As if you should take the blame for daring to trust him.

Your mind jumped to every moment you let him borrow your phone, every moment you gave it to him for safekeeping, every moment you trusted him.

But I make them more than most

“We’re done.” You said, taking a final step back. You were at the door now, resting a hand on the handle.

“No, wait-” He rushed towards you, pulling on your wrist. “Please, hear me out.”

“Hear you out?” Your voice was louder than you expected, and if stragglers from the party weren’t staring at you already, they definitely were now. “You looked through my phone?”

You couldn’t believe this. You felt like your head was spinning. Pulling away, you threw the door open, storming outside, hearing his footsteps following just behind you.

“It was just to see what the voicemail said! I swear, I just- I did it 'cause I love you!”

You froze.

Neither of you had said those words yet.

Spinning around, you glared at him, desperately trying to ignore the tears welling up in your eyes. “No, you don’t!”

He caught up to you almost immediately, putting both hands on your shoulders. “I swear, I just did it 'cause I didn’t want you to get all confused. I know you used to have feelings for him…”

Used to?

“What did he say?” You asked, forcing yourself not to look away from him.

“Please-”

“What. Did. He. Say.” His touch on your shoulders was making you feel sick, but you didn’t pull away. Not yet.

“He- he said he loved you. Kept going on about how I wasn’t treating you right, that he would treat you better-”

“He’s right.” Finally pulling away, you gave him as firm of a look as you could manage with tears in your eyes.

And it's my fault that I live my life

“I can’t believe you.” Your voice cracked as you spoke, turning away from him and walking away from the beach. The party had almost entirely died down by now, but you could still feel every eye on you as you stormed away from Roman, wiping angry tears from your eyes.

He called after you, but you refused to turn around. Your mind had already shifted to the thought of JJ, wondering if he was okay.

You walked past a few groups of people before you finally made it out of the sand, reaching the street.

Faintly, you could still hear him calling after you, begging you to reconsider and give him a second chance. His voice sounded desperate like he was starting to cry.

Sniffling, you wiped away another tear that slipped down your cheek.

You still didn’t turn around.

Running away from ghosts

The Chateau wasn’t very far from the party, but it was still a bit of a walk. Long enough that the times you’d wanted to walk back, JJ never let you go alone.

You sighed at the memory, kicking a rock as you took another step.

It didn’t help that after five minutes, you felt a droplet of water hit you. It was starting to rain.

Still, you continued on, the thought of JJ sitting alone in the guest room of the Chateau only encouraging you further. Logically, you knew he could reach out to John B, Pope, or Kiara if he wanted to. But you also knew he wouldn’t. He had a tendency to shut down, pushing people away in his worst moments.

You walked right past his house, knowing better than to check to see if he was even home. Especially after a party, there was no way he’d be going home like that.

The rain continued to fall, growing quickly from a small drizzle into pouring rain. It didn’t take long for your clothes to be soaked through before you even made it halfway to the house.

Too many skeletons

As you trudged down the street, you couldn’t help but think about JJ. You’d been avoiding him and the pogues for weeks. You knew they weren’t stupid enough to know you were pushing them away, saying no every time they wanted to hang out with you. Part of you worried he wouldn’t even want to see you again, but you couldn’t let it happen. You needed to talk to him again.

The last time you hung out with JJ alone felt like years ago. Sure, you’d hung out with the pogues and he’d been there, but you and JJ hadn’t hung out just the two of you in forever.

He snuck in through your window – you started keeping a ladder by it just in case ever since the second time he showed up unannounced. He brought snacks and sat next to you in your bed while you watched movies for hours.

Despite the rain and the tears streaming down your face, you smiled at the memory before your face quickly fell, remembering just how long ago it was. It happened about a week before you started dating Roman. A week before your relationship with JJ got tense and distant.

How could you be so stupid? How could you let Roman ruin everything?

Another tear slipped down your face, mixing with the rain.

Too hard to keep them in the closet where they've been

After a while, you looked up, seeing the Chateau in the distance. You picked up your pace, a newfound energy in you once your destination was in sight.

The lights were on, and through one of the windows, you could see someone moving around. Squinting, you noticed it couldn’t be JJ. The movements were too casual, and the silhouette wasn’t quite right.

“John B,” You whispered, running a hand over your face to wipe off some of the rainwater that covered you.

When you got closer, you saw Kiara and Pope sitting outside on the covered porch. They immediately halted their conversation when they saw you, staring wide-eyed.

“Uh,” You walked up the steps, facing them nervously. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Kiara gave you a tight smile, glancing at Pope, the two having a silent conversation.

“How’s Roman’s face?” Pope asked, earning another look from Kiara.

“He’s… I don’t know, I-” You stopped, having so much you wanted to say, but you couldn’t form a coherent sentence. After a moment, you took a shaky breath. “I kinda just broke up with him.”

“Oh shit.” Pope leaned forward in his seat.

“You did? Oh my god.” You could tell from the look in Kiara’s eyes that her first thought was JJ. She was the first one you told about how in love with him you were, after all.

There was a beat of silence, where none of you knew what to say.

“He’s, uh, he’s inside,” Kiara said quietly, nodding towards the house.

You nodded, turning away from them to knock at the door.

We all make stupid mistakes sometimes

You heard immediate shuffling once you knocked at the door.

It wasn’t long before John B pulled the door open, freezing when he saw you.

“Can I see him?” You asked, not even realizing you were still shivering from the rain.

“Uh,” He glanced behind him, craning his neck to look down the hall to the guest room where the door was still shut.

“Please.” John B looked back at you, seeing the desperation in your eyes.

“Yeah. He’s in his room.”

He stepped aside and you walked into the Chateau. The instant you were inside, you felt the memories flooding back to you. It was painful, realizing that you were pushing your best friends away.

“Need a towel?” John B’s voice brought you out of your daze. “You’re kinda-” He gestured vaguely to you, shivering and soaked to the bone.

You had half a mind to say no, wanting nothing more than to beeling to the guest room to see JJ. Still, John B was already grabbing a towel, tossing it into your arms.

Quickly, you wiped it over your face, drying off as much as you could. You were still freezing, but you felt slightly better.

“Thank you.” Carefully, you set the towel down, now looking down the hallway where the guest room was.

At first, your steps were slow, but by the time you reached the door, you were practically running.

You're the one that I miss the most

You burst through the door, freezing in your tracks when you saw JJ.

He was sat at the head of the bed, covering his face with his hands, not looking up at you. His hair was messed up, and you could clearly see the bruises and cuts along his knuckles, still fresh from the fight. You didn’t get a good glimpse of his face at the party, and you knew it was going to kill you to see what Roman did to him.

At the sound of the door opening, JJ sighed quietly. He looked so defeated.

“John B, can you just-”

“JJ.” You breathed out, making him visibly tense. He looked up quickly, disbelief in his eyes.

You couldn’t form any words past his name, staring at the boy you loved for so long. There were tear stains on his face, and the sight almost destroyed you. Seeing him sitting there, staring back at you, just as speechless as you felt, made your heart swell.

The feeling faded almost instantly, and you felt sick to your stomach when his gaze shifted, and a wave of forced indifference fell over his features.

My brain holds too many poisons

“What are you doing here?” His voice had a harshness to it that you fought hard to ignore.

“I-” You tried to speak, but your voice kept getting caught in your throat.

All you could do was stare at him. How much he’d changed in two weeks and how little he changed at the same time. He looked endlessly tired, and he had his guard up in a way he didn’t have since the two of you met.

“JJ-”

“You shouldn’t be here. Don’t you have a boyfriend to be taking care of?” The coldness in his voice made you shrink in on yourself.

“I don’t- I was-” You forced yourself to inhale, before exhaling slowly. “I was worried about you.”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“You shouldn’t be.” His voice wasn’t as harsh now, but you could hear the bitterness behind it.

The fact that you hurt JJ hurt you so much that you almost started crying again.

They helped me make the wrong choices

He’s refusing to look at you, but you can still see the damage Roman had done.

Slowly, you walked toward him, gently lifting his chin to make him look at you, your gaze softening at how bad his face looked. It was slightly reassuring to see that they didn’t look nearly as bad as Roman’s looked, but it hurt more seeing JJ hurt like this.

He moved your hand away, being gentle with you despite the glare still on his face.

“John B cleaned me up. Why are you here?”

“He didn’t do a very good job.” You said, noticing the first aid kit and the damp cloth still sitting on the nightstand.

Opening it, you inspect what supplies you have to work with, before grabbing the cloth and turning back to JJ.

“Can I?”

He nodded ever so slightly, not looking at you.

As carefully as you could, you began to clean up his face. He had a busted lip, and there was a cut under one of his eyes with a bruise forming around it. When he hissed in pain at your touch, you stop for a moment, moving as gently and carefully as possible.

We all make stupid mistakes sometimes

Once you finished up, you took a step back to inspect his face. He still won’t look up at you, and you understood why. You couldn’t blame him for being angry.

“I fucked up, I know.” You sighed, picking the damp cloth back up.

JJ said nothing, finally looking at you while you carefully picked up his hand, cradling it in yours. You inspected the bruises along his knuckles, frowning.

“This looks bad.” You muttered, dabbing the wet cloth over the few cuts on his hand.

“Looks worse than it feels.” He said, his voice softer now. It didn’t have the same coldness to it anymore, and you had to stop yourself from tearing up at the thought that he just might forgive you.

You stayed silent for a while, trying to ignore JJ’s gaze burning into you while you worked on his hand. JJ was the one to break the silence, shifting slightly in his spot on the bed.

“You’re soaking wet.” There was a rasp to his voice while he observed you, noticing the slight shiver while your clothes clung to your body.

“It started raining while I was running over here.” You replied now that you finished cleaning his knuckles, voice so quiet JJ had to strain to hear you.

But I make them more than most

Hesitantly, you took a seat next to him on the bed, leaning back against the headboard.

“I never knew, you know.” You tucked your knees close to your chest, not looking at him. “How you felt.”

“Then why did you ignore me? You told me not to speak to you again-” JJ stopped himself, noticing the way he was raising his voice. He took a deep breath, steadying himself. “Just- why?”

“My boyfriend.” You started, resting your head on your knees. Still, you couldn’t look at him, a deep-rooted shame building within you, disappointed at yourself for listening to Roman blindly. “He told me you were trying to ruin my relationship.”

JJ rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath. He inhaled sharply, opening his mouth to speak again when you stopped him.

“I broke up with him.”

Now, JJ’s full focus was on you, the anger in his eyes dying just a little. “You what?”

“I didn’t know about the voicemail.” You continued, shifting a little in your seat.

JJ reached a hand out, resting it on your leg as a silent reminder.

A reminder that he’s here for you. After everything.

And it's my fault that I live my life

“I didn’t know, I really didn’t.” You said quietly, cringing at the way your voice broke.

The bed dipped a little when JJ moved, leaning forward to look at you.

“Hey-”

“He deleted it, I never-” You turn slightly to look at him, realizing just how close he was to you now. “I never heard it.”

“It’s fine, I was drunk. It was a stupid mistake. I’m sorry it happened.” He looked away from you for only a moment before his eyes were on you again. “I didn’t mean to ruin our friendship.”

“You didn’t. You didn’t do anything.” You turned your attention to JJ’s hand still on your leg, his thumb rubbing up and down.

“Y/N-” He started, sighing softly.

“No, JJ, don’t.” You knew JJ well enough to know he would start blaming himself, and you tried to put a stop to it, putting your hands on either side of his face.

Running away from ghosts

“It’s not your fault. You didn’t ruin anything. I shouldn’t have listened to him, he-” With a start, you realized how close you were to JJ now, not having the heart to move your hands away from his face.

“Okay. I believe you. It wasn’t my fault.” He said, unable to tear his gaze away from you.

“He’s an asshole.” You tried to laugh it off, but it fell short when you saw JJ’s eyes dart down to your lips before focusing back on your eyes.

“So,” He whispered, one of his hands resting on your waist, the other still on your leg. “Why did you come here, anyway?”

The question hung in the air, floating in the small space between you and JJ. He was only inches away, and it was becoming increasingly hard to focus on anything other than the urge to kiss him.

“Y/N?” He spoke up again when you didn’t respond. But who could blame you? He was so close, looking at you so softly that it was making your brain short-circuit.

“I needed to see you.” You finally said, looking between JJ’s eyes and his lips.

JJ didn’t respond, staring at you with an expression you couldn’t quite decipher.

Too many skeletons

“Why did you need to see me?” He asked after what felt like forever.

“I was worried about you. I had to make sure you were okay.” Your voice was soft, whispering like the words were meant for JJ alone.

“I’m okay.” He said, his voice holding the same softness yours did.

Reluctantly, you pulled away from him, dropping your hands to your lap. JJ, however, kept his hands on you, bringing the hand on your waist up to rub your arm.

“I’m sorry for pushing you away. I’m sorry for letting Roman ruin our friendship. I just- I was just scared.” You couldn’t look up at him, dropping your gaze down to your lap.

“Scared of what?” He leaned forward slightly, still needing to be so close to you.

“I think I was just scared of my feelings.” The second the words left your mouth, you felt warm all over, not wanting to be rejected by JJ after everything.

“Your feelings?”

You nodded, keeping your attention down, fiddling with the blanket laid over the top of the bed.

Too hard to keep them in the closet where they've been

“I’ve always liked you, JJ. I’ve- I’ve always loved you.”

JJ’s breath hitched, and you could hear him whisper your name. Still, you don’t look up at him, unable to make eye contact with how vulnerable you felt.

“Hey.” His voice is soft, and you don’t move away when one of his hands rests over yours. “Look at me, sweetheart.”

Weakly, you looked up at him, seeing a fondness in his eyes that you’d never seen before. There was a smile pulling at his lips

You found yourself entranced by the look in his eyes, unable to look away.

We all make stupid mistakes sometimes

“It was stupid, I shouldn’t have left you because he told me to.” He leaned closer, listening to your apology with a newfound giddiness. “I’m sorry.”

There was a frown on your face despite the growing smile on his own face.

“You love me?”

For a moment, you were surprised, suddenly feeling very vulnerable with the way JJ was looking at you. It felt like he could see into your soul, unearthing every secret you’d ever had.

“I-” There was a part of you that wanted to deny it, to save face and tell him you didn’t mean it. But something about the way he was staring at you like you held all the stars in your eyes made you stop. “Yeah. Yeah, I love you. Of course I do, JJ.”

His grin grew wider, and he leaned closer still.

You're the one that I miss the most

JJ put one hand on your cheek, his other hand still resting over your hand. As gently as he could, he pulled you toward him until your face was inches away from his.

Your breath gets caught in your throat, and you could feel your heart beating fast in your chest.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked, so close to you that his nose was touching yours.

Instead of responding, you closed the distance between you two, loosely wrapping your arms around his neck while he brought you closer.

Finally, when you pulled back for air, JJ rested his forehead against yours.

“I missed you.” He mumbled, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek.

You grinned, feeling like your heart might beat entirely out of your chest as you shut him up with another kiss. It was a silent agreement between the two of you, to never leave again.

An agreement that you would be here for each other. After everything.

#jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader

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fatherless-behavior-prompts · 23 days

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BG3 SENTENCE STARTERS

"I'm done bowing to the whims of others."

"I am resplendent."

"The answer is no. NO."

"Rejecting unwanted advances is no failure. Even if it earned me some scars."

"No, I made the right choice. Though I do regret the options I had."

"I'm not sure anyone has been more fucked than this. And yet... we're fine!"

"Five seconds into this relationship and I already want to break up with you."

"Excuse me. This might be the first honest thing I've ever told you, and you're not interested?"

"That's it? We're done with the conversation?"

"Your past is not yet lost. Your future is not yet fixed."

"I deserve better. I deserve more. I deserve to live!"

"The past is the past. And the future is ... well ... still to be decided. By me."

"You brought my dead heart back to life. It will keep beating."

Think of all we've been through just to get to this moment. That wasn't luck. That was US."

"Resentment is a poison on one's heart. The only way to avoid damage is to pour it out."

"I am iron, steel and silver. I am my mother's blade."

"I am a strong, capable person."

"Am I not astonishing?"

"Feels good to hear it. Almost as good AS the touch of your hand."

"You shine brighter than diamond, and strike harder than steal."

"A rare treasure, you are."

"How to answer a question with so many layers such as that?"

"If you were a song, I'd never stop singing."

"You make a damn fine dance partner."

"Did you really think you could hide what you are from me forever?"

"Oh no - oh that's so sad."

"You were supposed to lend a hand, not take one!"

"If I must, but do try to keep them safe."

"Wow! You really showed that small, defenseless child who's in charge!"

"We could always make our own entertainment."

"Cheeky little pup."

"If I succeed, maybe I'll be allowed a pet."

"I have to focus. I can't afford to get attached to anyone."

"When there's a will, there's a why."

"Are you feeling lonely, perhaps?"

Why do beautiful people taste better?"

#rp meme #roleplay meme #rp prompts #roleplay prompts #rp prompt #roleplay prompt

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magpod-confessions · 11 days

Note

I really strongly associate the song "Take Me To War" by The Crane Wives with Gertrude Robinson. I know that she's not angry enough for it to really make any sense but I love it so much.

Like I swear this doesn't come from a place of misunderstanding her character, I know that a big part of her is *not* being particularly angry and having this calmly ruthless for the greater good attitude. I'm just capable of ignoring the really angry parts of that song and associating it with her?

Like the whole "I watched a weed usurp the garden and it poisoned the rest of the crops" verse feels a little bit like it's about Emma and Gertrude's reaction to her betrayal but it feels even more like it's about Gertrude's general okay-ness with collateral damage in a way thats so incredibly fitting. And "I'll be the sweetest thing to ever scare you" sounds like her with both Gerry and Micheal.

And obviously "I've built myself the reputation that my bark is much worse than my bite" works really well for how it her lifetime Gertrude spends a lot of time leveraging how she seems harmless to people. Both through her actively faking that and people just assuming a little old lady will be harmless. And that continues after her death even if it's no longer her actively perpetuating that idea.

And "There's no god to award me a crown"???? That's SO GOOD for how much she tries to avoid embracing the Eye even when she's in the role of Archivist. Like yes admittedly Gertrude does have a god but it's a pretty big part of her character how she's

A) aware of the risk of being consumed by the Eye and

B) seemingly not very drawn to either knowledge for its own sake or hurting people with the Eye

Like. I know this song is too angry for her but dear god it works so well in other ways.

*I also think it's an s5 Martin song, but that doesn't feel like a confession worthy take because it works with much less glaring complications and he actually is angry. And he also has a lot more of the underdog helplessness that the song is about while Gertrude spends more time feeling in control. So like. S5 Martin is my good take for that song, Gertrude is my bad take.

#ohhh cool. never heard this song but this is interesting!#magpod #tma #the magnus archives #magpod confession

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emilybeemartin · 7 months

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Inktober Days 16-18

Day 16: Angel

The story goes that a Methodist minister visiting Zion in 1916 saw this soaring, narrow slice of a peak and remarked that only angels could land there. Nowadays Angel’s Landing sees millions of ordinary angels attempting to reach the summit every year, and the photos of crammed conga lines hiking up and down are famous even outside the NPS. For those in park management, it’s become a symbol of the delicate balance we’re tasked to maintain—our dual mandate to preserve these lands unimpaired for future generations while allowing open access for the benefit and enjoyment of the people. Preservation and recreation. How to provide both? Sometimes it feels like a conundrum of Biblical proportions.

Day 17: Demon

Demons, devils, monsters, vermin—the wolves of North America have been given many labels in the centuries after European colonization. Trapped, hunted, and poisoned to near extinction in most places, they’ve been removed for so long that in many cases we don’t know what a healthy ecosystem is supposed to look like with them in it. The most famous example of wolf reintroduction is in Yellowstone, but in some parks, like North Cascades and Glacier, wolves weren’t reintroduced by humans. Because these parks are connected to larger tracts of wilderness, wolves merely slipped back in when our backs were turned, taking up the old niche they’d been filling for ten thousand years. Now we lucky few have a chance to spy one of these shy predators in the wild, see their tracks in the soil, or hear their mournful song.

Day 18: Saddle

Every Inktober, on my birthday, I draw myself in the prompt, usually as a witch. This year I’m back in the green and gray, and while I don’t actually patrol on horseback, this prompt gives a great nod to the Sermon on the Mount, a famous tidbit from Yellowstone’s history. Back when the park took a much different approach to wildlife management, one of the most popular things for visitors to do was attend a bear feeding program. Each night, rangers would dump the food waste from the hotel restaurants in an open garbage pit and the grizzly bears, which had learned what time to expect this each night, would swarm over the leftovers. The audience would sit in an amphitheater separated from the garbage pit by a protective ditch, and a ranger would sit astride a horse to tell the visitors all about the bears of Yellowstone. Hence, the “sermon on the mount.” The NPS has changed a lot since those days, and not just because feeding wildlife is now recognized as dangerous and damaging to man and beast. The attitude toward park programs has changed, as well. Interpreters now realize that it’s not enough to just spit facts at an audience. We’re charged with firing imaginations, provoking critical thinking, and stirring emotions to facilitate meaningful connections between the visitor and the resource. This role is what drives my love for this field. If I can inspire a visitor to explore more on their own, be curious about something new, or care more about a park's protection—that’s it. I’ve done something worthwhile.

#birthday ranger!#inktober #31 days of national parks #zion #north cascades #park ranger

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simplegenius042 · 1 month

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Music Monday

Tagging @socially-awkward-skeleton @softtidesworld @direwombat @starsandskies @strafethesesinners @strangefable @corvosattano @carlosoliveiraa @cloudofbutterflies92 @cassietrn @voidika @onehornedbeast @adelaidedrubman @nightbloodbix @aceghosts @turbo-virgins @minilev @g0dspeeed @josephseedismyfather @josephslittledeputy @titiagls @derelictheretic @afarcryfrommymain @megraen @shallow-gravy @softtidesworld @snake-in-the-garden @wrathfulrook @shellibisshe @chazz-anova @purplehairsecretlair @florbelles @inafieldofdaisies @ladyoriza @la-grosse-patate @skoll-sun-eater @thewanderer-000 and @yokobai

Hey guys, I'm back! Three songs; one for an OC, one for a relationship between OCs, and lastly one for a fic. Respectively all in Life, Despair & Monsters, The UnTitledverse and lastly Far Cry The Silver Chronicles. Listen and read under the cut:

In the Life, Despair & Monsters, Sir Enigma Malvolio is the main antagonist who is the catalyst of the protagonists pain and the reason to why events such as these are existing. Though seemingly looking like a short human, Malvolio is actually what's called a "Displacement"; a term used for creatures from unknown and not categorized dimensions which "displace" themselves into another reality by using Breaches (tears in reality due to unstable flux of time or because something damaged reality previously). As the Director of the Ruins of the Midnight Rise, Malvolio is driven by the need to "evolve" humans, who he sees as the pinnacle of potential to become something more, however is willfully ignorant of the "weaker" side of human nature and only believes that his twisted view on how to progress humans to a satisfying state is the correct way. By horrifically experimenting on them and attempting to remove empathy and physical weakness, he merely leaves them scarred for life and often mutilated or transformed into something else. Malvolio's view on human morality and ethics is disdain towards these "rules that set back scientific and evolutionary progression for decades more" and ultimately concludes "humans are better off without them", and due to his interdimensional nature and consequence "dog who must progress to using sticks and stones in order to eat other dog so he can survive and teach more dogs this progression to further the species" viewpoint, Malvolio can never empathise or realise how wrong his extreme actions are. However, in this song, there is the implication that Malvolio has begun to enjoy creating this horrific despair on humans. Listen below:

youtube

"I've got to hand it to you You've played by all the same rules It takes the truth to fool me And now you've made me angry

I can't decide whether you should live or die Oh, you'll probably go to Heaven Please don't hang your head and cry No wonder why my heart feels dead inside It's cold and hard and petrified Lock the doors and close the blinds We're going for a ride

Oh, I could throw you in the lake Or feed you poisoned birthday cake I won't deny I'm gonna miss you when you're gone Oh, I could bury you alive But you might crawl out with a knife And kill me when I'm sleeping, that's why..."

Next song is for The UnTitledverse, specifically the friendship between The Perfect Storm saga's three main protagonists; Joaquin Cobalt (a rather ordinary boy who lived with his foster/adopted-sister), Calvin Dearing (the spirit of a cartoonist from the 1930s) and lastly Mario Emmet (a shapeshifting meat-eating alien with minor reality-manipulation). Before the events of The Perfect Storm saga (and getting sucked into the Multiverse), Joaquin, Calvin and Mario knew each other. Joaquin viewed Calvin and Mario as older siblings (like Lisa), while Calvin and Mario viewed each other as friends (who have similar experiences with losing time from their lives). By the time of The UnTitledverse, Calvin is trying to search for both Mario and Joaquin, get them back home, and though the three dearly miss each other, they still have issues (both external and internal) that they must deal with. I believe Colors encapsulates the emotion felt throughout this journey of breaking friendship, regret, longing, restoration of a fire-forged bond and the bittersweet leaning towards melancholy at the end of the first saga. Listen below:

youtube

"Your little brother never tells you but he loves you so You said your mother only smiled on her TV show You're only happy when your sorry head is filled with dope I hope you make it to the day your 28 year old

You're dripping like a saturated sunrise You're spilling like an overflowing sink You're ripped at every edge but you're a masterpiece And now you're tearing through the pages and the ink

Everything is blue His pills, his hands, his jeans And now I'm covered in the colors Pulled apart at the seems And it's blue And it's blue

Everything is grey His hair, his smoke, his dreams And now he's so devoid of color he don't know what it means And he's blue And he's blue

You were a vision in the morning when the light came through I know I've only felt religion when I've lied with you He said, "You'll never be forgiven till your boys are too." And I'm still waking every morning but it's not with you.

You're dripping like a saturated sunrise You're spilling like an overflowing sink You're ripped at every edge but you're a masterpiece And now you're tearing through the pages and the ink

Everything is blue His pills, his hands, his jeans And now I'm covered in the colors Pulled apart at the seems And it's blue And it's blue

Everything is grey His hair, his smoke, his dreams And now he's so devoid of color he don't know what it means And he's blue And he's blue

You were red And you liked me 'cause I was blue But you touched me and suddenly I was a lilac sky And you decided purple just wasn't for you

Everything is blue His pills, his hands, his jeans And now I'm covered in the colors Pulled apart at the seems And it's blue And it's blue

Everything is grey His hair, his smoke, his dreams And now he's so devoid of color he don't know what it means And he's blue And he's blue

Everything is blue Everything is blue Everything is blue Everything is blue."

And lastly a song for my AU adaption fic of Six Of Crows called How Good Is A Heist If It's Improvised? in Far Cry The Silver Chronicles, where in a (pre-)modern day equivalent of the fictional Ketterdam (which would be the Netherlands), the Dregs pick up two more strays; the chatty and (seemingly) crass Isiah Popov and the curt if menacing Gemini Teal, both of whom have a dislike for each other. In this fic, Isiah and Gemini (future companions of Silva and Ezekiel in the Far Cry 5 & New Dawn fics) learn to navigate robbing people without trying to kill one another and let the whole team down (despite being slightly older than the teen team), and appreciate the skills both have without snide comebacks, and eventually grow into vitriolic best buds while trying to survive a ridiculously unlucky heist. Song below:

youtube

"Sorry, I ain't got no money I'm not trying to be funny But I left it all at home today

You can call me what you wanna I ain't giving you a dollar This time I ain't gonna run away

You might knock me down You might knock me down But I will get back again

You can call me what you wanna I ain't giving you a dollar This time I ain't gonna run away Run away, run away

This time, this time This time, this time I ain't gonna Run, run, run, run Not this time

Not this time Not this time Not this time!"

#music monday #life despair & monsters #oc: sir enigma malvolio #the untitledverse #the perfect storm saga #oc: joaquin cobalt #oc: calvin dearing #oc: mario emmet #far cry the silver chronicles #six of crows #grishaverse #the dregs #wip: how good is a heist if it's improvised?#oc: isiah popov #oc: gemini teal

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twsted-idiot · 1 month

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Rae Transcript :3!!!

(Ft him being a faggot for Johnny) (his ability is Mimic. He can mimic voices of victims (current or past) to lure others towards him, or one of the other family members. Although the ability itself does no damage)

Feeding Grandpa

-“Everyone else says it was a hell of a lot easier with you up ‘nd able so..”

-“We don’t got all day, eat up.” -“Eat up so we can catch these assholes.” -(sigh) “we’re gettin it under control”

-“It’d be a whole lot easier if you could actually fuckin help.”

Victim Found (in hiding spot)

-“What’re you hidin’ for?”

-“It’s kinda rude to go around peoples property ‘n hide from em y’know.”

-“Get yer ass out here”

-“Picked a shit hidin’ spot, sugar.”

-“Found ya” (laughs)

-“Y’all should really find better hidin’ spots”

Victim Hit

-“Quit runnin’, you ain’t gon’ make it much further”

-“Awh, that hurt?” (Laughs)

-“Hold still! I’ll get it over quick, promise.”

-“All that screamin’ ain’t gonna save you.”

-“Why don’t you just give up?”

Blood Trail

-“You left a trail, y’know…”

-“Yer makin’ this awfully easy to find you”

-“Les’ got to clean this up.”

-“Aw, don’t bleed out everywhere. It ain’t no fun if you die before I get to ya”

Match Start

-“Y’all’s heads are gonna be rollin’ soon enough..”

-“Didn’t know we had visitors.”

-“Don’t worry, I’ll put y’all to good use.”

Victim seen escaping

-“Shit..they won’t believe em…”

-“Ain’t worth chasin’ em down, probably won’t make it far anyway.”

-(annoyed groan)

-“Goddamnit. The others really gotta start helpin, I can’t stop all of em on my own.”

-“Slick bastards…”

Idle

-"That girl wasn't even pretty, I dunno why the hell Johnny liked her so much...glad he fuckin' killed her"

-"The hells this draggin' on for?"

-"Doin' everything round here I swear.."

-"Awfully rude to keep hidin' from me y'know.."

Victim Seen

-"Come back here, sugar"

-"Where the hell you think yer goin'?"

-"It don't have to be this way y'know..."

-"I'll take it easy on ya."

-"Honestly, all this runnin' around is kinda pathetic."

Ability Denied

-"Ain't none of em nearby.."

-"None of em can hear me from here."

-"Nah, won't work here."

-"I should wait until they get closer..."

Close encounter

-"Oh? This ain't gonna end well for you."

-"Go on, hit me."

-"That's it! Fight back! It ain't no fun if y'all just let us kill you."

Execution

-"This woulda been easier if y'all just quit runnin'"

-"See? There was no damn point in allat."

-"Don't worry, I'll make sure to put ya to good use."

Drayton/The Cook seen

-"Quit hollerin' at me old man."

-"It'd be a hell of a lot easier for you to hear em if you'd shut the fuck up."

-"Watch it, I'll rip yer fuckin' tongue out myself."

-"Put those damn locks to use"

-"I'd rather be dead than actually be related to you, so quit talkin' like it actually matters that I ain't."

Nubbins/Hitchhiker Seen

-"Keep that damn roadkill away from me."

-"Hurry up 'n place them traps, they ain't doin no good if you don't."

-"You sure as hell ain't the best...don't care what that prehistoric ass says."

-"If you gonna talk about me, speak up. Yer mutterin' is annoying."

-"How the hell you make them traps of yers anyway?"

Johnny seen

-"Don't worry Hun, we'll catch em."

-(whistles)

-"You find any of em yet?"

-"I'll help you catch em if you want.."

-"I ain't lookin'.."

-"Yer old lady's gettin' on my nerves y'know."

-"Let me know if you need any help Hun"

-"You should quit bringin' them city girls around."

Sissy seen

-"Keep that poison shit away from me, I'll rip yer fuckin' head off if you get it on me."

-"Awfully convenient for you to show up now."

-"I ain't goin in yer stupid fuckin garden."

-"Quit singin' those stupid hippie songs all the time, it's annoying."

-"Don't you dare bring back one of them weirdos with you."

Nancy Seen

-"We're gonna catch em, quit hollerin' at me."

-"Just don't place them traps in my way.."

-"Where the hell you get all that barbed wire anyway?"

-"That's an awfully nasty scar..." (Chuckles)

-"What? Need help or somethin'?"

-"You can quit lookin' at me like I did somethin' wrong..christ."

Bubba Seen

-"Goddamn big boy, yer puttin' that saw to work."

-"Just watch where yer swingin' that thing..."

-"Don't listen to them, they're a bunch of assholes. They're just jealous."

-"Don't worry, I'll help you catch em'"

-"I'll drag one of em to ya so you can gut em, yeah?"

Cook(seeing Rae)

-"Yer makin a damn fool of yerself!"

-"You ain't even a part of this family, quit yer yapping."

-"This is Johnny's fault y'know."

-"You 'n Johnny better quit bringin' back those damn girls."

Hitchhiker(Seeing Rae)

-"Y-you ain't even actually a part of this family.." (snicker)

-"Lookit what I found!"

-"I'm p-placin' my traps, what're you doin'?"

-"You still can't handle eatin' flesh?"

-"Quit h-hollerin' at me."

-"You better watch out! Bubba might give you another one of them scars."

Johnny (seeing Rae)

-"You know all the good hidin' spots, don't ya?" (Chuckle)

-"Quit starin' now ain't the damn time."

-"You didn't seem too fond of that girl..there somethin' you wanna tell me?"

-"C'mon now, lure them out already!"

-"Put that voice of yers to work, yeah?"

Sissy(Seeing Rae)

-"Stay outta my way and you won't get any poison on you."

-"I'd stick around more if yall weren't such assholes..."

-"You still ain't seen the light yet, that's your problem!"

-"Stay out of my garden."

-"Don't start bringin' back those girls like Johnny.. we're in this mess cause of him."

Nancy(seeing Rae)

-"Quit ooglin' Johnny, you ain't slick."

-"Hurry up 'n lure em out!"

-"Why you always out in Johnny's shack for?"

-"Focus! Don't let em get away."

-"It ain't that hard to not get tangled in my traps.."

#Oc: Rae Slater #TCM oc #TCSM oc #TCM game #TCM game oc #TCSM game oc #Drayton Sawyer #Nubbins Sawyer #Sissy Sawyer #Johnny Sawyer #Johnny Slaughter #Black Nancy #Nancy Sawyer #Nancy Slaughter #Bubba Sawyer #Leatherface

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dungeon-strugglers · 1 year

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✨New item!✨ Gluttonous Crumhorn Wondrous item, legendary (requires attunement by a bard)

While holding this horn, you gain a +3 bonus to spell attack rolls and to the saving throw DCs of your bard spells. The crumhorn has 6 charges. It regains 1d4+2 expended charges daily at dawn.

As an action you can expend 1 charge to play the crumhorn and release an eerie, stomach-growling tune. Any creature, other than yourself, within 60 feet of you that can hear your tune and that has the ability to eat, must succeed on a Constitution saving throw or go into a ravenous frenzy. On its next turn, a ravenous creature must move up to its speed to the nearest source of food and use its action to shovel anything edible into its mouth. It will consume food at an alarming rate, eating up to its daily requirement with each action. At the end of each turn that a ravenous creature spends eating before it takes a long rest, the following effects occur:

After the second turn, it becomes poisoned until it completes a long rest.

After the third turn, the creature falls unconscious for 1 hour, or until it takes damage, or someone uses an action to shake or slap it awake.

If a ravenous creature does not have access to food, it will attack the nearest creature it perceives to be edible. At the end of its turn, if a ravenous creature has not eaten food, it takes 4d6 necrotic damage. If there is nothing edible within range, a creature under this effect will eat leather, and other organic objects that are normally considered inedible, although this does not prevent the creature from suffering the necrotic damage. Undead and creatures immune to being charmed aren't affected by this song.

Alternatively, as an action you can expend 2 charges to play a joyous tune of abundance from the crumhorn and cast the create food and water spell.

“The man told us it was dinner time, and he began playing a tune on that strange instrument of his. We suddenly became hungry, so unbelievably hungry. The rest is too horrible for me to recall... I’m a vegetarian now.” - 🖌🎨 Like our work? Consider supporting us on Patreon and gain access to the hi-resolution art for over 180 magic items, item cards and card packs, beautiful creature art and stat blocks, and setting pdfs with narrative hooks and unique lore!🧙‍♂️

📜 Credit. Art and design by us: the Dungeon Strugglers. Please credit us if you repost elsewhere.

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her-power · 4 months

Text

Last Chance to Dance (Part Two: Rockstar! e.m. x fem reader)

🚨🛑🔞18+++ MINORS DNI - YOU WILL BLOCKED🚨🛑🔞 TRIGGER/CONTENT WARNING (For entire series): Rockstar! Addict! Sweet! Mean! Eddie, smut, unprotected p+v, fluff, fingering (f receiving), masturbation, oral (m+f receiving), heavy drug use, descriptions of IV drug use, swearing, talks of anxiety, panic disorder, mental illness, talks of suicide.

Last Chance to Dance: Part One

Eddie Munson Masterlist

Summary: Full summary on Part One.

Word Count: 11.2k

A/N: I love you guys, send me blurbs and one shots to write. <3

The roar of the crowd vibrates my entire core as the four of us wait to run on the stage; we did our huddle, and I jumped back and forth on the balls of my feet as we waited for our signal. Gareth goes out first, sits behind the drums, and his feet hit the double bass petal, followed by the snare. The rest of us run out to the stage, the crowd’s cheers get louder, and I slam the riff to Poison Me on my guitar. We ease into the song beautifully, I go up to the mic, singing the lyrics to the song. It’s one of our oldest songs, and a fan favorite. Jeff growls out the sub lyrics as I jump around the stage, throwing Sweetheart around my shoulder, my hair whipping around my face. The adrenaline courses through my veins, and I feel the sweat pour down my chest as I go into a guitar breakdown. Gareth sings the last part of the song while drumming. We hadn’t spoken about the other night; we really haven’t spoken at all, but we had other things to focus on.

Once the song ends, I take a beer bottle from the side of the stage, swallowing the whole thing back, smiling as I toss the empty bottle into the crowd. I go up to the microphone, moving my damp hair out of my eyes.

“What the fuck is up Atlanta?!” I shout in the microphone and laugh when the crowd roars to life again. “It’s crazy being back here, we’re on the last leg of the tour so we appreciate you guys coming out!” A pair of panties gets thrown at me and I catch it with one hand, I stick my tongue out and wave it around my fingers. I toss it to the ground and pull my shirt over my head, getting screams and cheers from the crowd.

I strum the cords on Sweetheart, looking behind me at Gareth, who nods, and we go into the next song. The rest of the night was phenomenal; it made me a little sad that it would be a while before we came back here. Once we ended the night with an encore of If it bleeds red from our first album, we all do a bow, I blow kisses to the crowd, get two to three more pairs of panties thrown at me, I take one pair, shoving it in my back pocket as we leave the stage.

I immediately take a bottle of water from the mini fridge in our dressing room and chug it, pouring the rest over my body, the cold water biting my skin so pleasantly.

Jeff claps my shoulder. “Good show, brother.”

I smile at him, wiping my hair out of my face. “You too.” I plop on the couch, taking the pair of panties out of my pocket and throwing it at him, he catches it awkwardly and laughs. “Do something with these.”

“Ew, they’re all sweaty.” Jeff immediately tosses them in the trash, and I giggle, taking out a cigarette and lighting it. I lean my head back against the couch, closing my eyes. I hear a commotion in the back hallway, and I see Gareth’s form come through the door, looking like Hulk, full of rage.

“Trashing hotel rooms now?” He shouts at me, throwing an envelope at me, which I assume is a bill, I don’t even bother looking at it.

“I cleaned up.” I tell him, inhaling on the cigarette again.

“No, you didn’t! Are you fucked in the head or what? They found dirty fucking needles in the bathroom trash; the housekeeper almost stuck herself with one!” I almost feel guilty at that, almost.

“I’ll write them a check to pay for the damages.” I mutter. “There, problem solved.”

Gareth’s eyes are wide as he stares at me, he laughs. “Dude, you’ve completely lost it. We’re not allowed back there, or any of the other hotels affiliated with them because of your fuck up.”

I get up from the couch, I can feel Jeff’s eyes on me; he stands off to the side listening. He knew about me and my habits, but like the smart man he was, he didn’t say shit. Or he just didn’t care anymore. I gaze up at Gareth.

“Just calm down, man. There are other hotels we can stay at. We’re not even gonna be back here for a long time, they’ll be over it by then.” I toss my t-shirt over my head, lighting up another cigarette.

“That’s not the fucking point, Eddie!” He screams at me. “When the fuck did you start shooting up?”

I smile and roll my eyes. “That’s none of your business.”

“It is my fucking business.” He growls, blocking my way to leave the room and I glare at him.

“Get the fuck out of my way.” I say, my voice low, full of anger now.

“Why? So, you can go and shoot up in your room? No.”

“Gareth, I’m not in the fucking mood, get out of my way.” I try to push past him, but he pushes me back, I stumble a little and a maniacal laugh escapes me, I feel like the Joker. “So strong you are, do it again, I dare you.”

“This stops now.” He tells me. “The drugs, the women, all of it.”

“What are you my fucking dad? I have it under control.”

“Clearly you don’t! Are you high right now? Or is it just a bedtime routine for you?” He stares at me like I’m the biggest piece of shit in the world, maybe I am, but I’m not in the mood to deal with his shit right now.

“Fuck off.” I tell him. “Move out of my fucking way. I’m done looking at you.”

“No, I’m not moving. You’re gonna stand there and be a fucking man and listen to what I have to say!”

“I’m done fucking listening!” I scream at him. “All I hear is fucking garbage spewing from your mouth, I’m over it and I’m fucking tired. Get out of my way.”

I put my hands on his chest, pushing him out of the way. I’ve never put my hands on him before, but I was fucking angry. He pulls me back by my arm, and I lean back, my fist connects with his jaw, and he stumbles back into the wall. He tackles me to the ground, and we roll around, throwing punches at each other; he gets me in the gut, and I groan, kicking him off of me. My fist connects with his face a few more times before Jeff is pulling me off of him and security is holding back Gareth. I can taste the blood on my lips, and I wipe it away.

Gareth glares at me, and I glare back.

“Bet that felt good, huh?” I say to him, walking out of the room. I feel my manager gently touch my forearm and I pull away from him. “Leave me alone.”

The hotel was only a minute walk from the venue, the warm air feels good against my skin, and I can already feel a bruise forming on my gut from where Gareth got me. I go into the hotel lobby through the elevators, leaning my head against the wall. The elevator things and a beautiful redhead walks into the elevator. My eyes scan over her body; her ass. She can feel my eyes on her, and she glances behind her shoulder at me. I smile at her, and she smiles back.

The elevator dings again and we both get off.

“Looks like we’re on the same floor.” I say, not looking at her but I know she hears me as I keep walking the opposite way to my room. “457.”

Like a moth to a flame, the woman shows up not even ten minutes later, knocking on my door. I didn’t even clean up the blood from my face yet, but she didn’t seem to care, because as soon as I open my door, her mouth is on mine, and she’s grabbing my cock through my jeans. I liked watching her tits bounce as I slam into her, I especially liked sucking on them. They were huge, and beautiful and it was a great way to end this shit night. I put a condom on; I wasn’t in the mood for risk taking tonight. She knew how to fuck though, I don’t think I came up for air once. She was a squirter too; I felt like a fucking God when she exploded all over me, dripping on my chest and thighs. I ate her out for what felt like an eternity, but I needed it, and clearly, she needed it because she was screaming so loud, I thought the whole building would fall down. When she had left, she had given me her phone number, and like an asshole I said, “I won’t be needing this, but thanks.”

She looked at me like I kicked her dog, and I shut the door behind her, stretching out every muscle until I hear a pop in my back. I run the bath, I make it scorching just so I can sit in it and relax. As soon as my body disappears under the water, a groan escapes me, and I slowly dip my head under the water. I let the water soak me before coming up for air, I move my hair out of my face and lean behind me to get my cigarettes. My lip had stopped bleeding, and I wondered if I got any blood all over that woman. I shake my head; tonight’s events were nothing short of shitty. I felt guilty for punching Gareth more than once, I’m not so sure he deserved three punches, maybe one, but not three. It was only a matter of time before someone found out I like my heroin in needles now. I scoff, I don’t fucking care, we put on a good show tonight, so maybe he should be grateful for that. I get out of the tub and dry myself off. I pull off my necklace and place it on the bathroom sink. I didn’t even bother putting pants on, I was just going to crawl into bed after I took my good night medicine.

I get everything set up and this time, I don’t even bother using my belt; I’m able to find a vein, and I sigh with relief as the familiar burn flows through me like a current. I lean my back against the foot of the bed, my head lulling to the side and a smile graces my lips.

I feel my dick get hard, and I close my eyes, gently rubbing my hand over the tip, gasping softly. You suddenly are on my mind; it almost scares me into stopping, but I don’t. I picture the last time we had made love; how you were the most beautiful thing on the planet to me, and that you were mine. I imagine you in front of me now, your eyes gazing into my soul as your lips go against mine. I groan as I pump harder on my dick, biting my lower lip. I let my hands travel down in between your legs, feeling your wetness all over my fingers as I pinch your clit and you moan loudly. I kiss your beautiful breasts, swirling my tongue around your nipple, sucking gently as you tremble beneath me, your hands fisting my hair.

I tremble and groan, pumping faster. “Fuuuuck.”

I move my mouth down to your clit and I move my tongue in circles, tracing your hole like a pretty picture. You taste so good, so sweet and mmmm, how I miss this. I get you to cum, and once the overstimulation has settled down with with you, I slowly push my myself inside you. I grip your hips, thrusting in an out and I can already imagine you clenching around me, another orgasm building inside you. Our moans are a collection of harmonies and I feel tingles in my lower belly. My head falling back in pleasure as a guttural moan escapes me.

I pump faster, groaning as I feel my orgasm about to explode out of me, just picturing you screaming my name was enough for me to cum. A throaty broken moan escapes me and my cum drizzles down my hand as I gently slow down my fist.

I let out a breath, slowly laying my back on the carpeted floor. My chest heaving and I smile. Being high, and having an orgasm was something so out of this world that I can’t even begin to explain. It made me crave it more, it made me crave you more and I haven’t thought about you in such a long time. It had been years, over a decade. A dull ache hits the center of my chest and I sit up quickly. I search for the needle like a mad man, knowing I have some more left in the chamber. The ache gets bigger, and I begin to panic. No no no no no no no. I don’t want to feel this. I can’t feel it. It’s too much. It’s all too much. I find the needle rolled under the bed, and I was right. There was about 2 ml left in the syringe; enough to make me go night night.

I fucking nick myself getting the needle into a different vein, I had missed it and ended up just stabbing a piece of muscle. Once I had collected myself, I was able to re position the needle, and push the rest of the drugs into my system. I let out a deep sigh once the ache in the center of my chest disappears and I’m back to feeling nothing except this immediate euphoria that makes me feel like I can do anything and everything.

It made me feel immortal. Spoon full of sugar...

You and I had walked down to the duck pond together a few days later, it was the 22nd of December; the sun was out, but it was chilly. I had just finished telling you about my fight with Gareth after the show in Atlanta. You were so compassionate about us and had listened with such care that I was shocked. I was certain you would’ve run away from me the moment I told you about the heroin. You didn’t, you just held my hand as I told you, hooking our arms together as we walked on. I gaze at you, wondering why you were so goddamn kind all the time. Especially to me.

We end up walking to the same neighborhood where you were house sitting for your aunt; it wasn’t too far from my condo, maybe ten minutes. You gaze up at me and smile.

“Wanna come in? It’s getting cold, I have hot cocoa and Home Alone in the DVD player.” You tell me and I smile at you; it was getting cold, and it sounded nice to get warm. I nod and follow you up the stone steps into your aunt’s apartment. The building was nice, it reminded me of a little hotel we stayed at in London a few years ago.

I peel my jacket off as we get inside, hanging it up on the hook. I roll up my sleeves on my black shirt and watch as you make your way to the fireplace in the middle of the living room. You squat down, using a long lighter to get the logs lit, and sit back on your heels, closing the small doors. It gets warmer in the apartment, and you gently squeeze my hand as you walk by me into the kitchen. A shiver goes down my spine after you touch me, like my body had forgotten how soft your hands were, how delicate you’d be.

I sigh, sitting on the couch, careful not to knock anything over with my long legs. You come back out with two mugs of the hot cocoa, gently placing one in front of me. You sit next to me, curling your legs under you and you start the movie. We didn’t even watch the movie, we just talked most of the time.

“I know there is probably a lot more to the story, but when you got sober, did you want to get sober, or were you essentially forced to?” You ask me gently and I turn to you, resting my elbow on my knee.

I sigh. “No. I didn’t want to get sober, I was forced to, but they kept reminding me that I was an adult, I could leave the program if I wanted to. I could also spend a few weeks in jail if I didn’t at least start a program. Eventually, I found myself wanting to be there, and that’s why I have six months under my belt. The mandatory therapy is a struggle though.” I sip the cocoa and place it down on the table.

“Why?” You ask me.

I chuckle, staring into your eyes. “I don’t like talking about my shit.”

“Well, you’re talking about it with me.” You say with a smirk, and I let out a laugh.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. You’re different though, you’ve known me your whole life. My poor therapist is paid to listen to me.” I sigh and look into your eyes. “I guess I should give her a chance.”

“I mean, it wouldn’t hurt. I’m sure there’s things you’re purposely not telling me right now.” You say, leaning your head on your palm, giving me a sweet smile. I stare at your face, your beautiful, sweet face. Your eyes dart from my lips to my eyes again, and I see the familiar curiosity in them. You sigh, placing the mug on the table. “There’s something I have to talk to you about.”

My heart does a little back flip, but I wait patiently. You stare at your hands, fingering the rings on your right hand, and I could tell your hands were shaking. You meet my eyes, and I can see yours are already filling with tears.

“I won’t blame you if you want to leave after this, because it’s something for the last fifteen years that still gives me a lot of emotions and,” you sniffle back tears. “I don’t regret it, but it still hurts.”

I gently take your hand, entwining are friends. “Sweetheart, you can tell me.”

You meet my eyes and give me a sad smile. “A few weeks after you…left. I started feeling sick, and I found out I was pregnant.” My breath is locked in my throat, but I place my other hand over yours, squeezing you gently. “I didn’t…I couldn’t keep it. I was so young, I was still in college and…trust me, the thought of having a baby had crossed my mind, especially with someone I loved. But it would just be me…and I couldn’t, I couldn’t do that to them. Selfishly, I couldn’t do that to myself.” You begin to cry, your lips trembling as you shake your head. “I’m so sorry, Eddie.”

I cup your face, staring deeply into your eyes. “You don’t have to explain anything to me, you got that? I don’t blame you for that. That was your decision to make, and I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. I’m sorry for all of it.”

You shake your head and more tears flow from your eyes. “Why did you leave me?”

My eyes widen at your question, it’s been a question I’ve been trying to avoid since seeing you, but I’d be stupid to not realize it was gonna come up eventually. But I still can’t answer you. “I…”

You shake your head and laugh. “It doesn’t even matter, it doesn’t even fucking matter.” You pull away from me, moving yourself off the couch and wiping your face. You stare at me, your eyes full of hurt and pain, how desperately I just want to grab you, kiss you, taste you and tell you that everything was going to be okay, that I was here now, but the words were stuck in my throat. “I shouldn’t have written you that letter, I should’ve just left it alone like I have been for so many years. But everywhere I look, I see you. Cover of magazines, on the television, on the fucking internet. I avoided you for so long and then, your dreams came true. And I mean it when I say that I’m so proud of you, because I am, but I don’t know what I was thinking, having us see each other. Having us talk about the past.”

I stare at you, trying to process everything, trying to understand. “You wanted me here.” I say softly.

“I know, and I’m an idiot for wasting your time.” You cross your arms over your chest, and I feel myself getting angry.

I scoff, shaking my head. “So, what is this then? You bringing me back to your aunt’s house? Making me hot cocoa like we’re back to fucking normal? What did you think you were gonna get out of this?”

“Answers! Something, I don’t know!” You yell at me. “You’re telling me all about your drug addiction and your rift with the band, but you’re not telling me why. Why was heroin your saving grace? Why was that the only thing that made you happy? Why after so many years you can’t just talk about the deep-rooted issues that you have inside you? Why was it so hard for you to love and want to be loved?”

I’m standing up now, your eyes dig into my soul, and I hate how well you still fucking see me. “You think I didn’t love you? Is that what this is?”

“You never gave me a reason to think that you ever did!”

“I loved you!” I scream at you. “I loved you so much that’s why I left!” It’s out of my mouth so fast I don’t even have a second to breathe before I realize what I just said. My eyes are wide as I stare at yours. You look like you did when I left you, and I can’t handle this again. “This was a mistake. I’m sorry.”

I grab my jacket and head towards the door.

“Eddie, where are you going?” You sound so hurt, I bite my lip, feeling my own tears forming in my eyes, I look back at you. “I’m sorry.”

And I leave, again. Because that’s all I know to do.

I run down her steps, wiping the tears off my face and the bitter cold stings my cheeks. I start running; I let myself take me wherever, I pass the street to my condo, I catch a glimpse of the Christmas lights downtown. And I stop running, I’m standing in front of a bar.

A spoonful of sugar makes the medicine… I did too much, I realize as I’m trying to crawl towards my hotel bed from the bathroom. I grip the blanket, awkwardly pulling myself up onto the bed. I search the bed for my phone; and I grab it with weak hands. My vision was going in and out, and I scroll down my contact list for Ted, my manager’s name. I could’ve just called 911, but why would I do that when Ted has an endless supply of Narcan in his suitcase? I should just keep a few in my own suitcase; but this usually never happens. I think I just wanted to feel less and less tonight, I don’t know why. If I die, it’s on me, I lived a good life, but I really don’t want to die, so I’ll settle for this.

I dial Ted, he can barely hear me because my voice is so slow, and I’m nodding out. He always has a spare key card for this exact situation, he was a good manager, I hate that I have to manipulate him to save my life.

I don’t remember losing consciousness; I just remember seeing Ted’s face above mine, and the vomit hitting the back of my throat as I throw myself off the bed. Ted pushes a trash bucket under my head as I heave out everything and anything that was in my system. I sit back on my heels, wiping my face, my head lulls forward and I force myself to keep my eyes open.

“Jesus, kid, how much did you do?” He glances around the hotel room, sees my supply on the bathroom sink.

“I don’t know.” I mutter, getting to my feet, my legs are shaking as I stumble into the bathroom. I find the needle I used, and glance at it; there was nothing in there. Most of it was now in the trash can and swimming through my veins. I splash cold water on my face and grip the sink in front of me. I fix my eyes on myself, my face looks gaunt, like I saw the reaper for five minutes and came back. My curls were sticking to my face, my eyes were…

My eyes looked dead.

I place my hand over my chest, not feeling the necklace underneath and I begin to panic, it wasn’t where I normally put it. Ted stares at me with his mouth wide open as I’m tearing apart the bed, going through the drawers, trying to find my necklace. I’m screaming obscenities, and when I’m about to give up, I feel the necklace in my back pocket. I plop on the floor, clenching it in my hand, I look up at Ted. “What?”

“I think you should go to the hospital, make sure you’re fully okay.” He tells me and I glare at him. He was in his pajamas, plaid bottoms, a dark grey t shirt. His wedding ring glistens in the light, and his dark blonde hair hung in loose waves at his shoulders. He was only in his mid-fifties, but because of me, he looked thirty years older than that. I don’t know why he still wears his wedding ring; she left him months ago.

“No hospital, I’m fine.” I mutter, looking back at the necklace in my hand. “Thank you.”

He sighs. “You’re not fine, Eddie. Do you know how many narcans I used to bring you back just now? Four. That’s more than half of what I have.”

“Good thing you had them then.” I say, not meeting his eyes.

“One of these days I won’t.” He says sharply and I finally meet his eyes.

“What does that mean?” I ask, my high still buzzing in my veins but I’m already itching for another shot.

“It means I’m not doing this anymore.” He sighs. “You’re like a son to me, Eddie. I’m tired of watching you slowly kill yourself.”

I laugh and shake my head. “I’m not gonna sit hear and listen to your sad story about how much you love me and how if I died it would devastate you.”

“It would!” He yells at me. “Jesus, kid. Do you even hear yourself?”

“Yeah, I do. How could you love someone that slowly kills themselves every day? It’s better not to.” I find a vile of cocaine in my front pocket, this will take the edge of, and I do a little bump. I sniffle back the drugs. “Trust me.”

Ted stares hard at me and shakes his head. “Pull yourself together the next two days, we leave for Portland on Monday.” He stands up, and I don’t bother watching him leave. I hear the door shut behind him and I lean my head against the wall, breathing deeply. I put the necklace over my head and tuck it into my shirt. It’s easier to just push people away, but it’s hard because you have to see these people every day, and these people watch your every move.

It never used to be like this; I loved my life. I loved getting on stage, singing our songs, watching the eyes of my brothers light up whenever we’d hear the roar of the crowd. It had been almost ten years of this life, and I loved every minute of it. But I still felt something was missing. I tried to fill it with sex, I tried to fill with alcohol, but nothing and I mean nothing would work.

Then one night, we’re at a party. It was the house of one of the bands we went on tour with a few years ago, I won’t say names, but it wouldn’t surprise many people. I got introduced to heroin that night, the bass player had a stash and had been snorting it all night. Once I let it fill my airways and I vomited everywhere, I felt the most beautiful feeling in the world. I fell in love with it, but after that night I swore I would only do it during parties. That was a big lie, because then I learned how to shoot it. Whoever I was with that time, I don’t even remember, I had them do it for me because I was too scared of needles, and I didn’t want to mess up. Once the drugs filled my veins it was all fucking over for me. I was hooked. I was more than in love. It became something that I would time in my head when to take, it was my medicine. Every thought that held onto pain, guilt, grief and madness, that all fizzled away once I learned how to do that, there was no going back for me. I’ve been shooting heroin for two years, and Gareth just found out about it. I’m a good liar, and I’m good at hiding shit.

I get up on my feet, stumbling into the wall slightly, and I throw myself on the bed. My arm stung where I had stuck myself, I must’ve missed a vein again. I was getting sloppy, I was rushing too much, I needed to slow down.

I hear myself chuckle. Eddie Munson, slowing down? When pigs fly.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I sit at the bar, twirling a Diet Coke in my hands, I watch the ice cube move around, my heart was still racing. I had a sponsor I could call, but it was the holidays, I didn’t want to disrupt his peace. The place was crowded, it usually is this time of year. All the college kids were home for the holidays, vacations started for most people. I knew I shouldn’t have opened that letter; I knew it would’ve opened so many doors that I wasn’t ready to walk through yet. But seeing you, it awoken something in me that I forgot about, that I have kept buried for over a decade.

Yes, I loved you. I loved you so much that it hurt to breathe. You were there for me when my dad went to prison, you were there for me when I would cry about my mom, about certain things I would remember. She was a distant memory now, a storybook character that almost seems fictional at this point. But it hurt to love you, it made it easier to just leave because then I couldn’t get hurt.

That’s so fucked up.

I’m fucked up.

I’m so fucked up.

Why the fuck can’t I just make myself be happy?

I’m thirty-four fucking years old, I should be married with children. I should be married to you! But no, I’d rather just kill myself with dope then be a goddamn human.

I groan into my Diet Coke, and the bartender looks at me. I ask her for another one, I needed the bubbles. I don’t want to drink, drinking was never an issue, but it became one when I’d over do it because then I’d want to do something more.

I feel a presence behind me, and I feel my guts fall into my asshole. My old dealer. What the fuck was he doing here?

“Fancy seeing you here.” He smiles at me, sitting down on the stool next to me. I stare at him; the words are stuck in my throat. “Oh, I live here now, if that’s what you’re wondering.” His eyes still held that dirtbag energy behind them, and he radiated egomaniac. I always hated him, but he supplied me the good shit and he made a profit off of me. When I didn’t have the money on me, he’d give me the drugs in other ways, ways that would benefit him. “You know, you were one of my best customers. Shame that’s no more.”

I ignore him, sipping my Diet Coke. My hands begin to shake, and he notices this, smiling. He brings his mouth to my ear. “All you have to do is ask, baby boy.”

I shiver at his words. Why was I scared? I didn’t want any. I just wanted a second's peace to my fucking self and this asshole has to come disrupt that. I turn my head to look at him and I smile at him. “Yeah? That’s all I have to do? Well, why don’t you get up off that stool, and get the fuck out of my face?”

He stares at me, and his eyes narrow. “Your loss, baby.” He winks at me as he walks away, and I let out out a breath that I’ve been holding in. I take my jacket off the back of my seat and throw it over my shoulders and rush out of the bar. I feel my legs buckle and I have to go down a small alley. I slide down to my butt and I feel the panic rising in my throat and the hot tears sting my eyes. I begin to hyperventilate, and I touch my pockets, seeing if I had brought my lorazepam, but of course I didn’t. He was right next to me, he had everything I wanted in his pockets, and I told him to fuck off. So, why do I feel like this? Why do I feel like I did something wrong? I groan loudly, wiping the tears from my eyes.

“You’re okay. You’re okay.” I tell myself, quickly finding my cigarettes and lighting up. I let the smoke fill my lungs and I let out a shaky breath. I inhale deeply and slowly let out a breath. I begin to shiver; it was so cold back here. I felt like if I were to stand, I’d go back in that bar and I’d find him. I’d rather freeze to death out here then die with a needle in my arm.

That’s funny, cause six months ago I would’ve rather have been dead with a needle in my arm, then be alive in a world without drugs. I stay here in this alley for what feels like hours, my legs were numb, my hands were freezing. My teeth were chattering, and I wouldn’t be surprised if my lips were blue. I need to move; I need to get my blood flowing again. I needed to stop feeling so fucking bad for myself and just fucking move.

So, I get up, I stumble against the brick wall, trying to get feeling back into my limbs and I walk. I walk and walk until I see the familiar stone steps, and I keep walking until I’m inside. It was so much warmer in here. I don’t even know what fucking time it is; I knock anyway. My teeth were still chattering, and I was so, so cold.

You open the door and your face falls when you see the sight of me. “Oh my god.”

“I’m s-sorry. I just…” I begin to cry and you come towards me, pulling me towards the fireplace, pulling a blanket from the back of the couch, taking off my jacket, draping it over my shoulders. “I just had to walk somewhere. My-my old dealer was at the bar…I didn’t drink, I didn’t buy anything off of him, but he tempted me. And I wanted to, but I didn’t. I didn’t use.”

Your arms rub my back and shoulders, as I still shiver. “Jesus Eddie, you’re freezing.”

“I’m sorry I’m here, I know you don’t want me here…but I don’t think I can be alone tonight. I have no one else…I’m sorry.” I sniffle, wiping the snot from my nose.

“Shhhhh.” You say to me, pulling my body into yours, your warmth already making me feel better as I rest my head on your chest. “I got you.”

“I’m sorry.” I cry, gripping the back of your sweater. “I’m sorry.”

You rock me gently, holding me tightly as I let every single feeling I have kept buried inside me flow out of me with my tears. My chest hurts as I sob, my throat felt like it was on fire, and I hold onto your waist for dear life.

The fire feels nice against my skin, and I pull back to look at you. You stare at me with tears in your eyes; my hand goes to touch your face, my vision still slightly blurred. You shiver as my ringed fingers curl behind your hair and your fingers clench my jacket. Your mouth is on mine before I could even blink; I can taste your tears with my own and I carefully lick your lips with my tongue, and you open your mouth with no hesitation. Your hands fist my hair, and you push yourself onto my lap, kissing me with such urgency that causes me to groan against your mouth and I hold onto your hips. It was just like I remembered, how everytime your lips molded into mine I would feel a jolt of energy course through my veins. The blanket falls off my shoulders as I lean back on the floor, taking you with me. You straddle me, your hair drapes over me like a satin curtain and you roll your hips into mine. The friction causing the both of us to moan; it took that sound from the both of us to realize what we were doing, and you pull quickly away from my lips. I sit up, and you stare at me, your lips swollen, your eyes wide.

“I’m sorry.” I say quietly, running my hands over my mouth. “I don’t have to stay here.”

“No, no it’s fine.” You shake your head, looking into my eyes, your hair a wild mess. “I don’t want you to be alone. My aunt has a spare bedroom, you can sleep there.”

I nod at you, swallowing hard, bringing the blanket up around my shoulders, staring at my hands. “Thank you.”

You nod, smiling softly at me and you gently pat my hand. “You didn’t cave, you’re still sober.”

I nod. “I know.”

You get up from the floor and help me to my feet. We stare at each other for a few moments, and you walk towards one of the closets. I watch as you take out a blanket and a pillow, you hand them to me, and I stare at your face. “I didn’t…I didn’t stop lo…”

“The spare room is next to the bathroom.” You tell me quietly and I nod, sighing deeply, heading to the spare room.

The room was small, but it had such a cozy feel to it, I felt like I was in a hallmark movie. The bedding was a soft quilt, there were little nick knacks on the walls, some creepy looking porcelain dolls but other than that, it was cute. The bed was comfortable too, spacious and wide. We didn’t say goodnight to each other, I think we just assumed we both went to bed. I felt my body temperature go back to normal; I took off my t shirt and my socks and shoes. I didn’t mind sleeping in my jeans. I lay on my back, staring at the ceiling; I can’t believe I kissed you. I can’t believe you kissed me back. I shouldn’t have done it; but I needed to feel something else, something warm. I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore.

You sit on the end of your bed, running your hands through your hair, and sighing loudly. Your lips felt numb from where he kissed you, so many years of trying to forget how it felt to be kissed by him, how it felt to taste him again. It was stupid of you to think that that wouldn’t happen. It was stupid of you to kiss him when he was that vulnerable. He feels safe with you, that you know for sure. Even after all these years. He said he left because he loved you; what does that even mean, you wonder? Why was he so afraid of love? It was the two of you since you were three years old, best friends who went through everything together. First kiss together, you lost your virginity to each other, and were inseparable until he left.

He broke you, and it wasn’t even because you were in love with him. He took your friendship, and spit on it the second he left. He took years of comfort and wiping away tears and flushed it. You had a right to be angry.

You needed to know why. Why was it so scary to love you? Your bare feet hit the carpet on the room you’re in and you swing open your door, ready to wake him up and demand answers, but you don’t, because he’s standing right in front of you. Your hands are already pulling him towards you before he can open his mouth, and his hands were ready to catch you when you jump up and wrap both your legs around his waist, kissing him deeply. You moan against his mouth, feeling the rush of adrenaline as his ringed fingers caress your bare skin under your night shirt. His hands grip your ass as you both fall onto the bed, his tongue dances with yours, your hands fist his hair, and he lets out a broken moan when your hands rub his erection through his jeans. He holds your face, pushing himself against you, pulling away to bite your lip gently. His lips travel to your neck, you gasp when you feel his teeth nip down on the spot below your ear. You caress his shoulders, your fingers clench at his back muscles and you feel his hand travel under your shirt, cupping your full breast in his hand, pinching your nipple, getting you to moan loudly. His mouth finds yours again, still gently tugging at your nipple and grinding against your soaking pussy. He groans softly, pulling himself back to stare at your face, he traces circles down your belly, over the elastic of your underwear and pulls them down. He doesn’t break eye contact with you as you feel his two fingers slide into your cunt and your head falls back in pleasure. His mouth falls open as he watches you, pushing his fingers deeper.

You gasp, your back arching. “Unghh my god…Eddie.”

“I missed this.” The tone of his voice is full of so much eroticism, you almost scream. He uses his other hand to pull up your shirt, smiling when he sees the tattoo he loves, and he lowers his head down, licking your skin, tasting every inch. You shudder beneath him as he continues to lick and suck around your naval. He spots your sternum tattoo; it sat beautifully between your breasts, peaking out above your cleavage and ending at the natural curve of your breasts. He pulls your shirt over your head with one hand, thrusting his fingers in and out of you still with the other. His big brown eyes meet yours, and he licks a stripe all the way up from your naval, in between your breasts and takes your nipple in his mouth, sucking hard. A loud moan escapes you, and you can’t help but rock your hips with the movement of his fingers. He removes his fingers, leaning up to kiss you passionately. And he turns you over with one swift motion, getting you on your knees. Your face is smushed against the pillow and you gasp, feeling his tongue lap at your hole, before sucking on your clit. He eats you out from behind, his mouth devoured you like you were a midnight snack, and his fingers glide back into you. You grip the bed sheet under you, groaning loudly as his tongue swirls around your clit, sucking and biting gently.

“Mmmmm unnnnnghh, Eddie.” You gasp and you hear his moan vibrate against your cunt.

“Tastes just like how I remember.” He coos against you. “So sweet.”

You cry out when he finger fucks the life out of you, his delicate fingers hitting that perfect spot and you feel the build up in your lower belly as your orgasm approaches.

He flicks out his tongue, rolling it around the little nub of nerves and whimpers, feeling you clench around his fingers. “Come on, sweetheart. I know you’ve been waiting for this, cum for me. Mmmm that’s it baby, fuuuck, there you go, come on.”

The sound of his voice is so hot, it sends you into a fucking whirlwind and you’re cumming hard all over his fingers. He gently kisses your ass cheek, slowly pumping in and out of you as you scream out the rest of your orgasm. Your entire body shaking, convulsing, and you didn’t want it to end. You roll to your back, your chest heaving, and you sit up, pulling his mouth towards yours, pushing your tongue in his mouth, tasting the sweetness of you and he grips your thigh tightly. Your hands unbuckle his jeans and pull them off, of course he was going commando, you thought. You grip his hard cock in your hand and pump your fist down it and he moans against your mouth. His curly hair tickles your chin as he buries his face in the crook of your neck as you pump him faster, slapping the tip of his cock on your clit. He whimpers, his moans echo against your skin and you line him up against your opening. You felt fucking filthy, but you wanted him, craved him.

He pulls back to look at your face, gently moving your hair out of your face, running his thumb along your lower lip.

“Are you sure?” He whispers to you, gently moving his lips against yours. You nod, cupping his face in your hand.

“I wanna feel you.” You whisper to him. “I wanna feel all of you.”

His eyes dart from your eyes to your mouth, he kisses you softly and you both moan as he pushes himself inside you easily; you were so wet. You hold onto his waist as he leans up on his palms, thrusting himself into you, his eyes flutter close, and he grunts loudly. He grips your thigh painfully, hooking your leg around his waist, moving faster. You cry out, your nails scraping down his back as he rolls his hips, his breath hot against your throat. You feel him tremble above you, and he whimpers. You pull his face towards yours, staring into his eyes as he continues his rhythm.

“Ugggunngh fuck sweetheart.” He moans, pushing his mouth against yours, kissing you hungrily. Your mouth opens his in a loud moan, that sends him in into a whirlwind and he slams into you harder.

“Ooohhh…oh…unghhh…Eddie…”

“Scream for me, sweetheart. Unnnnngh, I wanna hear you scream.” His mouth falls open in pleasure, his movements slowing down and you clench around him, holding onto his shoulders for dear life as you orgasm, screaming out his name, your sounds were music to his ears and he holds your waist, riding the orgasm with you when he feels his reach the surface and he’s moaning so loud, you swore you had awoken a beast within him as he cums inside you, a warmth settling in between your legs as he slows his thrusts, swallowing hard as he rests his head against your chest.

You both lay there catching your breath, not saying a word to each other. He lifts his face up to yours, gently caressing your face, and kissing you sweetly.

The sun was bright as I open my eyes in a squint. Was that the sun? My eyes adjust and I try to see out the window from where I lay; it has snowed, was still actively snowing and the sun was trying to make its way through the clouds. I feel your warmth next to me and I turn to you, your back is to me, your hair drapes over your back and onto your face. I trace the outline of your arm with my finger, going over the curve of your waist, your hips. I lean forward and kiss your shoulder gently, your neck. You stir, groaning pleasantly as you turn towards me, your eyes still closed, and you bury your face into my chest, your hands were cool against my waist and I shudder, laughing a little.

“Morning.” I whisper to you, gently moving your hair out of your face.

“Mmm.” You mumble. “Did you sleep okay?” Your voice is hoarse, and I kiss the top of your head.

“Like a baby.” I tell you, wrapping my arms around your waist. Last night was the most comfortable I had slept in months, and I didn’t remember my nightmares, which was a first.

“I can make us breakfast.” You say, opening your eyes, squinting at the bright light. “I need eggs.”

“Uhh, I don’t think we’re going anywhere anytime soon.” I laugh and you sit up, scooting yourself off the bed. I watch as you go to the window and peak out, laughing to myself at how little you cared that strangers could potentially see your naked body.

“Holy shit. That’s a lot of snow.” You laugh, turning to me. “I don’t think the plows have come down; I can’t even drive you home.”

“I’m in no rush to go anywhere.” I tell you sweetly, putting my arm behind my head. You smile at me, blushing when you realize you’re naked and you pull a blanket over your shoulders. I sit up; gently reaching towards you and grip your waist. You lean down and kiss my forehead, enveloping me in the blanket. I kiss the spot above your belly button and look up at you. “I appreciate you having me stay…not that I’m your responsibility but, thank you.”

Your fingers curl through my hair, sighing as you stare at me. “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t and something happened. Even being so angry at you, I can’t stomach it.”

I gently caress your sides, staring deep into your eyes. “I owe you an apology. A big one.” You place your hands gently on my shoulders, waiting for me to continue. “I’ve been fucked up for a long time. Even before the drugs. The drugs were just an escape from how dark I was feeling on the inside. I felt like nothing could make me happy…except you. You were this big bright light in my life, my whole life, and I…” I sigh, my throat aches as I swallow back tears. “I was afraid that if I allowed that happiness into my life, it would be taken away from me like everything else. That you would see who I truly was on the inside and would hate me for it. So, I took the easy way out, I thought I was saving you years of regret and dealing with my bull shit but when in reality, it was like I pulled the trigger of a gun and blew my own head off. Because leaving you was one of the stupidest things I could’ve done. And I promise, if you let me, I will spend the rest of my life doing everything I can to show you how sorry I am. I never stopped loving you. I have been so close to death this last year more times than I can count, and I think the universe only brought me back because of you. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to continue to teeter on life and death anymore and I never thought those words would come out of me.”

A tear falls down your cheek, but you smile, and I wipe it away, cupping your face. “I love you. I love you so much it fucking hurts, but I need to let it in. I need to feel it, because if I don’t, I’m just another foot deeper in the grave.”

You sniffle back tears, gently running your thumb over my lips, my hair. “I love you too. I never stopped either, as much as I wanted to.”

I kiss the spot between your breasts and meet your eyes. “You can tell me to fuck off, and I’ll leave because I’ll feel better knowing that at least you knew that I did love you and I still love you.”

Both of your hands grip my face, and you smile, shaking your head. “I will probably still tell you to fuck off, because it’s us and even fifteen years later I’m pretty sure you still know how to get under my skin.” We both laugh. “But I’m never letting you go again. That’s a promise.”

My hand goes up to touch your face, my other hand grips the spot under your breast, and you lean down, gently pressing your lips to mine. I hold your face, opening your mouth with mine, tasting you. I move my lips to your tummy, gently kissing your skin. You shudder softly and I move my hands to your thighs, my eyes fix on yours as I kiss above your naval. I graze the tips of my fingers along your clit and your head falls back, the blanket falls from your shoulders. I palm you gently and a soft moan escapes you.

“Not…fair…” you breathe out. “It’s your turn.” You say to me, and you press your lips to mine hungrily. I wrap my arms around your waist and groan when your hand goes to my cock, rubbing it gently. I get hard immediately, and you pull away from me. You give me a smirk and kneel in front of me. I lean back on my palms, watching you. As soon as I feel your mouth touch my tip, my head falls back, and a loud groan escapes me. You move your tongue along my shaft, taking me into your mouth, cupping my balls.

“Unnnnghhh, fuck. Oh my…unnngn.” I groan out, gripping onto your hair; your moan vibrates my cock and I tremble. I whimper like a fucking dog, it feels so good; I haven’t felt anything like this in so long, it feels almost foreign to me. Your tongue swirls around my tip, and you suck, your mouth coming off my cock with a pop. I groan again, I make myself look at you, and watch as you take my cock so beautifully. You stare up at me with those eyes, those fucking eyes. The ones that see right through me, the ones that see me, the ones that are so filled with desire I try my best not to explode in your mouth. You open your mouth wider, slapping my cock against your tongue, a choked moan escapes me that I can’t even control. A heavy breath escapes me, and my eyes flutter close. I feel my orgasm building in my belly; I feel my abdominal muscles clench as you continue to torment me with your mouth. A smile graces my lips and I gasp. “Ohhh, ohhh fuck…mmmmohhh my god, sweetheart. I’m gonna cum…I…”Something wild growls out of me, and my whole body convulses, and I’m almost yelling. I cum so hard I swear I can see stars; you’re still sucking me off, swallowing me whole. I fall back against the bed, my chest heaving, my vision blurred, and a laugh full of pure joy escapes me. You crawl your way up to my face and I open my eyes slowly to look at you. You’re smiling that beautiful smile, your lips are swollen, your chin is covered in saliva and parts of me. I hold your face in my hand, feeling drunk, feeling fucking high and I kiss you, tasting myself, tasting you as our tongues fight for dominance. I’m getting hard again, and all I want is to be inside you; I want to feel every inch of your walls, I want to squeeze that beautiful ass of yours as you ride me. It was like you read my mind, because you lower yourself so delicately until I’m fully inside you, feeling every beautiful inch of you. A sweet, soft moan escapes your lungs, and you lean back, staring in my eyes as you roll your hips against my pelvis. I grip your ass, rocking you against me faster, pushing myself into you. Our noises are a collective harmony of beautiful breaths and moans, I watch as your beautiful breasts bounce as you rock me so fast. I take one in my hand, pinching your nipple and groaning, feeling like I was in a fucking porno. I watch you move; how beautiful you look, how I’m pretty sure you were carved out of stardust in the fucking heavens and brought down to Earth; I couldn’t believe you were real.

Six months ago, I was in a jail cell, bleeding from my nose, my mouth, my hands, detoxing from heroin, after overdosing for the third time, waiting for death because my life was over. And somehow, after all that, I made it back to you.

Go down, medicine, go down… I don’t even know where I am right now; is it my hotel room? Or someone else’s? There are only a few soft lights coming from the room, I can hear someone else breathing, but I can’t see them. We had just finished the Portland show, but I don’t even remember it ending. I’m sitting on the floor; just staring off into space. I feel clammy, my hair is sticking to me, and my arm is stinging. I move my head to the side. It feels heavier than normal. There’s a rubber tourniquet wrapped tightly around my arm, and the needle is just resting against my forearm. I wince, pulling it out of my skin and undoing the tourniquet. It takes me a few tries to get to my feet, I use the wall as support to lift my body up. I’m still in my clothes, so I didn’t fuck anybody I don’t think. I hear muffled voices coming from outside the door, I think I’m in a bedroom. I pull my phone out of my pocket and turn the flashlight on. There’s a woman on the bed, passed out, she was fully naked, lying next to a glass mirror of white powder. I shine my light to her face; her eyelids squeeze just a little and I breathe a sigh of relief when I see that she’s still breathing. I pull the blanket over her shoulders to protect her modesty, so sweet right?? I scoff at myself. Nope, still an asshole. I open the door to the bedroom and squint from the bright overhead light. No one even notices me walk through, there were tons of people in this one little loft apartment. An eclectic group of people; goths, metalheads, nerds, Abercrombie chicks and dudes, LGBTQ+, junkies, druggies, ravers.

Where the fuck was I?

I find an unopened beer and pop the cap off with my teeth, chugging the whole thing, stumbling awkwardly and dropping the empty bottle in the lap of a couple making out on the couch. I’m able to find the door to leave, and I feel blessed when the sudden quiet envelopes me like a blanket. My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I answer it without even looking to see who it is.

“Yeah?” I mumble.

“Dude, where the fuck are you?” It was Jeff.

“Honestly, man. I have no fucking idea.” I wince when I bend my left arm. Damn, I really fucked myself up tonight.

“Ted’s losing his mind, he thinks you’re dead in a ditch somewhere. What do you want me to tell him?” He sounds a little drunk himself, and I want to roll my eyes, Ted needs to stop worrying.

“Nothing, I’ll call him.” I say, my head lulling to the wall behind me. Fuck I feel good. I hang up the phone and scroll until I find Ted’s name.

“Jesus Christ, Eddie! You’ve been missing for three fucking hours!” Ted yells into the phone, and I feel a little bad hearing the worry in his voice. “Where the hell are you?”

“I don’t know, some fucking house party.” I make my way down the stairs to the outside; it was fucking freezing out. I feel snot hit the back of my throat and I force myself to hawk a giant spit ball out of my lungs. I look up and down the street, I’m in some quiet neighborhood. “I’m in Portland somewhere.”

“No shit, Sherlock.” He sighs and I swear I hear his eyes roll to the back of his head. “Send me your location, I’ll come get you.”

I hang up and text him my location, I sit on the sidewalk. I feel fucked up again; my head lulls between my legs and I gasp awake and find a cigarette in my pocket. I light it up, letting the smoke fill my lungs and I’m nodding out again. A loud honk of the car horn snaps me awake and I squint at the headlights in front of me.

“Prick.” I mutter, awkwardly getting to my feet as I see Ted’s silhouette come out the driver's seat. He looks pissed, and I can’t help but smile.

“Get in the car, fucking dickhead.” He says, inhaling deeply on his cigarette.

“Whoa, daddy’s mad.” I say, stumbling backwards and collect myself, opening his driver side door. I slip into the seat and shut the door. Ted comes in, slams the door and I feel his hand slap me hard on the back of the head. “Ow! Jesus, what the fuck was that for?!”

“For being a fucking moron.” He speeds away from the sidewalk, and flies down the side street, following directions to the highway. I rub the back of my head, lighting up a cigarette.

“You didn’t have to pick me up.” I say to him.

“Of course, I did. Eddie, it’s negative zero outside, you’re high out of your mind. You think I’m gonna leave you stranded?” He says, quietly.

“You should’ve. Would’ve saved you the grief.” I mutter.

“Do you want to die, Eddie?” He almost yells at me. “Is that what you want?”

I stare at the side of his face; his jaw was clenched, and I swear I see tears in his eyes. “No. I don’t want to die.”

“You sure about that?”

“I don’t want to die, Ted! I just want to fucking live in peace.” I yell at him, flicking my cigarette out the window.

“What about us?!” He shouts, turning left and my shoulder hits the door panel. “What about your fucking family who loves you!? Do you think we want to continue watching you kill yourself?”

“So don’t!” I scream back at him. “Leave! Like everyone else in my life! What the fuck is stopping you?!"

He peels into the parking lot of the Holiday Inn where we were staying and puts the car in park. His hands are gripping the steering wheel in a white-knuckle grip. I see tears pour from his eyes and I have to look away from him. I feel a sharp pain in my chest; I need another shot; I need it to get rid of this fucking pain. I pat myself down, looking for a needle, or more drugs, I had to have some, there’s no way I did it all.

“What are you doing?” He asks me.

I begin to panic, digging into my pockets, trying to find something, anything. “I can’t sit in here with you when you’re like this, I can’t look at you and hear your fucking worries and see your tears, I’m gonna fucking lose my mind.”

I find a needle hidden deep in my jacket pocket, a new one, still capped, and I find the drugs in a baggy next to it.

“No.” Ted says, grabbing my wrists, pulling the needle out of my hand and my drugs, I try to wrestle with him, but I’m way too fucked up and too weak to try. “You are not shooting up right next to me! Are you out of your fucking mind?!”

I can feel the rage in my veins, my eyes are wide, and I can feel myself trembling. “Give it back to me.”

“No.” He places everything in his pockets.

“Teddy, I swear to fucking god I will break your fucking nose, give it back to me!” I yell at him; my fists clenching, my chest heaving. This man was like a fucking father to me, and I was ready to throw hands with him.

He laughs and I wanna scream. “Do you hear yourself?”

“Shut up.” I cover my ears, closing my eyes. “Shut up, shut up. Just give me the drugs.”

I hear him flip the visor down, and flip open the mirror.

His hand grips my chin. “Look at yourself!” He yells at me and I keep my eyes shut, feeling tears pool from my eyes as an angry sob escapes me. His grip gets tighter on my chin and I grit my teeth, my hand digging into his thigh, trying to push him away from me. “LOOK AT YOURSELF!” He yells louder and my eyes snap open, gazing into the mirror. The man staring back at me has a wild stare, his brown eyes held no life in them, he was pale, sweaty, his face was gaunt. He was a beast with no name, a monster hidden beneath the face of an angel.

I shake my head, closing my eyes again, and groan. “No. No. Let go of me. Let me go!” I’m able to shove him away from me, and I quickly wipe the tears from my face. “I’ll stop man, just give me my drugs.”

“You’ll stop?” He stares at me incredulous; I know I look pathetic in his eyes. “I don’t believe you.”

“I’ll fucking stop! Just let me do this, please. Please. It’s starting to hurt.” I groan, hot tears still pooling from my eyes.

“Good.” He sneers at me, getting out of the car, slamming the door shut, walking away from me. I sit in the passenger seat and start punching the dashboard.

“Fuck you! Fuck you, you fucking piece of shit!” I yell, my legs feeling like jello, my heart pounding. I push myself out of the car and fall to my knees, screaming like a mad man.

I was a monster.

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