#'its alright to be selfish sometimes you know? to admit that you feel overwhelmed'

[georgiadixon]

Harder, Buck

pairing: stucky x reader or something like that

genre/warnings: nsfw, angst, fwb, cursing, mutual pining, fluffy ending, lots of bucky love <3

a/n: i've been messing around with this one for about a year and i think it's about time it sees the light of day. enjoy!

Steve can hear your moans through the wall.

They’re deafening, never-ending, piercing right through his heart and straight to his cock. The ache in his chest will surely never vanish, no matter how often he tries to stop or how excruciatingly tight he grips himself just to relieve a fraction of the heat coursing through him.

Nights like these make him feel like the walls are taunting him, begging his resolve to crush. But no matter how tight he keeps his eyes closed, the truth is impossible to deny.

He is ridiculously, overwhelmingly, unbearably in love.

He wonders if the serum is a curse, if he was damned to a life of untouchable grief. There’s no reason he should be here, no reason he should be so close but ridiculously far from the man he has given his life to time and time again.

Steve wants to punch the wall with the aggression and pain he feels from never saying anything. And then he wants to kick down the door from how he doesn’t even know what or who he would have bothered to admit feelings for. He looks at you and wishes he would have just told the damn truth and he looks at Bucky and wonders if he’s ever thinking about him, too.

Too late. You were too late. Now they’re each other’s and they’ll never be yours.

He can’t help but listen to the intruding thoughts of regret, and he can’t help but feel like the feelings inside of him that randomly creep up just don’t belong to him.

Because as adamant as you are about your relationship being strictly physical, he sees the way Bucky looks at you.

It’s the way he looks at you, too.

He thinks he loves you and he knows it’s wrong because he knows he loves Bucky and he’d be damned before he messes up the first thing to make him genuinely happy in a long, long time.

It’s easy to bury during the day, when the sunlight hits his eyes as you’re laughing at something dumb he said and he can pretend that you’re just friends. That the sound of your laugh doesn’t light up his heart in every way, that you aren’t the most beautiful fucking thing he’s ever seen.

A swirl of emotions are running through him at an unforgivable pace and he swears he would do anything to feel something other than this.

Cheap. 

He finishes in his hand with a grunt and an unmistakable pain in his chest.

Because Steve knows you’re in love and he knows this is wrong.

He’s fucked.

-

Bucky can hear Steve’s grunts through the wall.

He’s unforgivingly pounding into you, nearing breaking the headboard from how hard he’s clutching it and rocking it in time with his thrusts.

Moments like these make him wonder if the serum is a curse.

Because when he closes his eyes, if he lets himself drift, he’s back in ‘44. He’s stuck in a lopsided tent on its last legs in the backwoods of Brooklyn because “Bucky, we have to make the most out of what we have.” And even though it wasn’t much, it was enough to feel his boy in the early hours of the morning and hold him close until sunlight, knowing there might not be a tomorrow. Knowing that every single second needs to last forever because Steve was already slipping through his fingers with every passing one.

He could look his love right in the eyes, sweet and soft and suddenly bigger than him but he was still Steve and he would always need to feel his boy under him. Hot skin and sweat and groans and “Harder, Buck.”

The scratches on his back are burning but the burn is delicious and he needs to be closer.

He needs to be closer, closer to the glowing skin under him that he’s felt time and time again and he’s pulled down by the neck but it’s not him.

It’s not him. Not anymore.

He’s snapped back to reality, seeming impossibly far away but manages to focus on you again. 

“What did you say?” He’s breathless, dazed, confused. His mind is clouded from not so distant memories on the other side of the wall and the feel of you squeezing the life out of him.

“I said,” You’re breathless as well, but totally consumed with how much Bucky there really is around you, inside of you right now. You wrap your hands around his neck and kiss him, spit dripping from where your lips collide and you feel like you could swallow him whole.

“Harder, Buck.”

He gives it to you. He gives you what you need, what you want and you’re ok with being selfish because he’s not all here, and this isn’t supposed to mean anything. Not really.

It’s dirty. It’s messy. And you know it’s wrong when the distance in his eyes never leaves and you can’t help but wonder just what is going on in his mind but damn, the Bucky that is here feels good.

-

You can hear them talking about you in the next room.

It makes you nervous, being able to tell that there were underlying (or resurfacing) feelings between the soldiers from the moment you met them.

It didn’t really have anything to do with you, as you were verbally adamant to Bucky on no strings attached. Baseless, simple, easy pleasure. And damn, did James Barnes know how to deliver.

But you can’t help but think a little too hard about the way they both stare at you when they think you don’t notice, or the way they stare at each other when they think it’s not obvious.

The truth is, you can keep lying to yourself, but there’s no mistake to the feelings you get deep in your chest when Bucky’s holding you, or the feelings you get when Steve’s looking at you like your laugh is lighting up his whole world.

Feelings that don’t belong to you.

“How’s everything with Y/N going?”

You can hear Steve question Bucky about you. It’s confusing, overwhelming. This entire situation is.

You had already assumed Steve knows just about everything involving your relationship with Bucky. They’re best friends. More. But it’s easy to overanalyze and wish to know just how much he was saying when you aren’t listening. How much a “friends with benefits” situation could really warrant discussion.

“It’s alright.” You know that tone. He’s brooding. Upset about something. Or everything, it feels like sometimes. Like something is always missing.

Like the world wouldn't be enough.

“Just alright?” Steve’s ‘captain’ voice is in full effect. He’s trying to get him to talk. It doesn’t seem like it will be successful, but if anyone could pump some life into Bucky it would be Steve. Your chest aches with that thought.

You could never be enough.

You hear Bucky sigh and shuffle around. “It’s good. It’s really good.”

“But?” Steve’s smirk can be heard clearly through his words.

“How’d you know there was a but?” Bucky jokes, but it’s hard to tell sometimes. You know him well enough to be able to.

“I know you better than anyone.”

You almost want it to hurt, to be jealous because if you’re being honest there’s not much in the world you want more than to have all of Bucky Barnes, to be the one who knows him, the one who he lets in. But you can’t, because as annoying as it is, Steve Rogers is always right.

-

Bucky’s head is spinning.

Steve knows him too well to avoid his question, but his nerves are taking over and he doesn’t know how he’s going to do this, how he’s going to tell Steve everything he’s wanted to since he’s been back and everything that was never gone in the first place.

He takes a deep breath, and he thinks about you. He thinks about how he feels when he’s with you, and he thinks about how even though he knows he loves you there’s something missing.

And then he rips the 80 year old band-aid off.

“I miss you.”

It’s quiet, soft, almost imperceptible, like he’s scared of what he’s saying.

Maybe because he is.

Steve’s response sounds exactly the same.

“I’m right here, Buck.”

He scoffs at that, shaking his head and if Steve wasn’t so damn detail-oriented he wouldn’t have seen his lip quiver in quiet anticipation.

Steve knows Bucky won’t speak next, so he gulps and tries to find the words, at least the next words from the countless speeches he’s practiced in his head for this moment.

“I love her.”

Bucky looks up and locks eyes with him, and for a second Steve thinks he’s in trouble.

But Bucky smiles. He looks out towards the city through the floor-to-ceiling mirrors and sort of nods to himself at how stupid they’re all being for tip-toeing around each other.

“I know.”

Steve’s eyebrows are furrowed as he leans back a bit, waiting for something else. It doesn’t come, so he relaxes and leans further towards the man sitting across from him and stares deep into his eyes, praying he really hears his next words.

“I love you.”

Bucky smiles again.

“I know.”

He isn’t sure if he’s waiting for the right moment or just likes seeing Steve speechless, but he’s sitting on something big and it’s been far too long of almost everything he’s ever wanted.

He’s loved Steve since he was a stupid teenager. He’s been in love with Steve since the first time he punched a guy for him and swore to himself he’d never let him go.

He woke up from years of torture, not just physical but mental and emotional having to be apart for so long and never being able to forget him.

You were an accident. He didn’t mean to fall. He went along with your whole “friends with benefits” idea because he just needed to be close to you. You were entrancing, lovely, intoxicating. He needed you. He needs you. It’s been racking his brain for so long of the growing feelings he has for you and the pure need he has for Steve but he’s learning to let go and say fuck it.

I want you both. I need you both.

“Do you think we could be happy? All of us?”

Steve smiles that smile Bucky knows and loves all too much like the answer is obvious, like it always has been. He loses himself in the thought for only a moment, but long enough to miss Bucky’s face fall with worry.

“What are you scared of?”

Steve speaks as if he can read his mind, because honestly, he probably can, and Bucky looks up at the question and decides they’ve both been through too much for anymore lying or beating around the bush. It’s now, or it’s never. Life is too uncertain to waste anymore time.

“Losing you. Again.”

Steve tilts his head at this, because he’s always felt like he’s the one who lost Bucky. Watching him fall from the train took something from him and putting him back under took even more but maybe that’s not what he meant.

Maybe it never was.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Bucky laughs sadly at Steve’s words and wishes that was a promise that could be kept, that was more simple. None of this is simple. Nothing has been since the 40s.

“I’m not the same person I was in the 40s, Steve.”

“Neither am I.”

He knows this. He knows everything is different, but when he looks at Steve and he’s looking back at him the same way it’s like they never left Brooklyn.

And he finally gets to ask the question that’s been lingering in his head since Wakanda. 

“You think you could love me again?”

Without hesitation, Steve knows his answer. He’s known it since he left him to heal.

“Never stopped.”

-

You try to hurry away when you hear them coming, but they’re both way too clever to not have noticed you.

You stop and let them catch up to you, the butterflies leaving your stomach and making their way up into your throat.

Despite your nerves, you turn and lock eyes with Bucky. Even when the world’s spinning, you can never help but look at him like he hung the stars for you.

Bucky’s looking back at you the way he always does, like he has a million things running through his mind but he loves you too much to burden you with any of them. You just wish he knew he could never be a burden. That you loved him, all of him.

“I love you, Y/N.”

“I know, Buck. I love you too.”

He smiles at your return to his confession, some of his nerves leaving knowing that you feel the same. But then he remembers the man next to him and they all come rushing back. He doesn’t want to lose you, not when he just got you. But he can’t deny his boy. Not anymore.

He glances over at Steve nervously and grabs his hand, preparing himself for what he’s about to say next.

“I love Steve, too.”

You smile at him, appreciating that he’s finally letting himself feel the things you’ve always known he has.

“I know, Buck. I love him too.”

Steve looks up at you at this, questioning what you really meant. You look back at him, smile, and give him the eyes you’ve wanted to ever since you met him. He’s hesitant at first, but as if a switch hits his brain, his face lights up at the recognition of your feelings for him. And with one look from your golden boy, all of your nerves wash away and you know this is right.

Bucky, who still hasn’t seemed to catch on, is struggling to find his words. He’s stressed, and you and Steve watch him run a hand through his hair in frustration. The same smile appears on both your faces watching your boy fumble over himself trying to explain the situation, trying to make everything right not even noticing it already is.

You step forward to push his hair back so you can see his face, and you take a moment to admire just how beautiful he really is. You kick yourself for wasting so much time not telling him that, but you make a silent promise to yourself that you won’t go another day without it. Without telling both of them how amazing they are, and how they both make you feel more loved than any person could ever deserve.

With your hand still on Bucky’s cheek, you lean in close and press the lightest kiss of your life onto his lips, making him smile shyly into it. And then you lean back, grabbing Steve’s face with your other hand and giving him the hardest, most passionate kiss of your life in the same breath.

Bucky wonders why he was ever nervous at all.

You look at the pure, unadulterated happiness on his face and you know you’ve never seen him like this. For half a moment you want to be jealous, you want to be upset that you couldn’t do this for him on your own. But it all disappears when you see them looking at each other and not being sorry for it anymore. It makes you realize that maybe it’s ok you couldn’t be enough on your own. Maybe it was always supposed to take Steve and you, together, to make him whole again.

Bucky kisses Steve, hard, right as he winks your way and grabs Steve’s hand to lead him back to your room which you can catch glimpses of all three of you living in, in peace.

He runs a hand through his hair and just looks so goddamn happy that you swear your heart isn’t capable of loving him anymore.

And then Steve looks back at you and he smiles his golden boy smile and you swear your heart could collapse at how much you know you love him.

Yeah. You’re fucked.

#cat's fics #stucky #stucky x reader #stucky fic #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers fic #bucky barnes fic #reader fic #stucky x reader angst #stucky x reader fluff #mcu fic #mcu imagine #mcu x reader #cat's stucky fics #stucky x you

[pa-panda-heroes]

Is it alright to request Bakugo, Todoroki, & Kirishima finding out that their usually well put together s/o secretly smokes (only to cope with stressful stuff like a rough home life) but now that she’s with them she tries to quit but then a bad mission happens & they walk in as she’s shakily holding a cig? Happy ending pls. Sorry if it’s complicated recovery isn’t linear & ive been feeling bad just thinking abt going back to it.

Sweetheart, please don’t apologize! I understand, okay? No judgements whatsoever. I’m really sorry you’ve not been feeling well, but keep fighting, love. You can do it!! You got this!! I’m so proud of you for taking this giant step for your health <3 and so are the boys :> I put it under a cut because it’s long ^^

Katsuki, Shouto, and Eijirou with a s/o who’s trying to quit smoking (Scenarios)

Warning: slight mentions of relapse, smoking

Katsuki:

He knew. He knew you’d had a particularly bad day handling an awful situation - the kind of job any hero (maybe even Katsuki himself) would pass off onto a rookie so as to avoid having to deal with it. He knew you’d been trying your hardest to quit smoking. He knew you only picked it up as a way to cope. He knew it was hard. He knew it all. He was right there with you.

Yet it didn’t break his heart any less when he got home from his own hero shift to see you trembling and holding your head with both hands, an unlit cigarette nestled between your shaky fingers. A lighter lay on the coffee table in front of you, seemingly forgotten but not really. Your sniffling was loud, and it pained Katsuki to hear it, as if with each sniffle the hand around his heart squeezed tighter and tighter.

“Y/n.” He doesn’t say or do much else, and neither do you. It’s quiet, save for your sniffling and occasional hiccups. Katsuki sighs, not out of frustration, not out of pity, and certainly not out of anger. Well, maybe there was a hint of anger, but it was not aimed at you. It was aimed at whosoever pushed the put-together, organized you to this habit which was giving you a run for its money. Quietly, he moves to sit next your trembling form, wrapped in the plush blanket you got him for his birthday last year. It smelled like him. No smoke, no ashes. Him.

“Just take deep breaths,” he says quietly, afraid to spook you, as he slowly brings up his arm to wrap around your shoulders and bring you close. You’re rigid. Stiff. And so unlike yourself. “Don’t feel bad, y/n. Stuff like this... it’s hard. There’s no such thing as perfection when it comes to recovery. No one gets it right on the first try.” It’s hard, rewiring your brain not to crave a certain substance, or anything else, really. Katsuki hasn’t dealt with this firsthand, but as a hero he’s seen enough to know no one gets it right on the first try; sometimes people slip up.

“People slip up. And that’s fine,” he continued softly. “They just need to push themselves back up and fight back even harder. I’m so fucking proud of you, alright? And you - you’re tough as hell, you know that?” He stops, as if to gauge your reaction. And react you do. You bury your head in his chest, dropping your hands to your lap without a word. Saying something is too much right now. The cigarette is still between your fingers, but Katsuki gently takes it from you and tosses it onto the table.

“Maybe you don’t realize it, but you are.” Katsuki pats your shoulder furthest from him, leaning down to whisper at you. “You’d have to be, to put up with me and my bullshit,” he jokes with a pinch to your cheek, and finally you chuckle with a wee grin. “No, seriously! I always leave the toilet seat up, I scream at the TV, I never put my laundry right into the hamper, and I always forget to wash dishes... I’m kinda hard to live with.”

“You also kick in your sleep,” you quip with a giggle, voice tiny and meek yet full of love and spunk.

“Ah hell, do I? See, the list goes on and on.”

You shake your head wistfully, your grin growing by the second, but then it leaves you for something sweeter, something quieter. “Thank you for helping me quit, Katsuki.” The gentle lilt in your voice is music to his ears, though he wouldn’t outright admit it.

He huffs at you playfully. “Aw, shaddup. With everything you put up with from me, I’d say we’re even.” He almost seems bashful at your thanking him. Maybe he is.

“No, not quite. You also walk around naked at the worst possible times.”

“Oh. Yeah. Sorry.”

You turn to look up at him, eyes gleaming - and not from tears. “My friend really didn’t need to see you walking around in your All Might boxers.”

He shrugs it off. “She should’ve knocked. And you shouldn’t have bought them as a gag gift, babe.” Katsuki flicks your nose gently, leaving you to you wrinkle it and recoil from him.

“Jerk!”

Shouto:

Damn paperwork.

His back hurt, his eyes burned, and his wrist was currently cramping.

Yet it was better than everything you dealt with on patrol earlier. He wasn’t sure how you made it back in one piece like you did.

With a yawn he decided that’s it, a break is most certainly due. So he’d go looking for you, maybe even just five minutes together would make him a new man. But he couldn’t find you. Oh. Shouto wasn’t panicked by any means, but he was in a hurry to find you. He knew if even after one relapse, no matter how short-lived, you would beat yourself up about it better than you do villains. Even if there was no need to. Relapse happens sometimes.

Finally, he found you in the alleyway behind the agency. And he found the cigarette. It was lit, snug between your lips and slowly developing ash. Your hand was so shaky, Shouto was worried something was medically wrong for a second before he realized himself. He called out to you, a hand reached out as he approached. You jumped in your skin, head jerking his way, one lone tear trail on your cheek. “Y/n, please put that out.”

You wipe your nose with the back of your hand unceremoniously, but it didn’t bother him. “I’m sorry,” you breathe. “It’s just- it’s hard. I feel like I’m trying to put myself back together, but I’m missing a piece. Does that make sense?”

Shouto looks at you gently. “It doesn’t matter if it makes sense to me,” he says clearly. “As long as you understand it and talk about what you’re feeling, I’m happy. Why don’t you tell me more about what you’re feeling right now? It helped last time.”

“Overwhelmed. I’m overwhelmed as fuck.” You suck in a breath and bring your fingers to your lips to pick at them rather than take a drag.

“There’s nothing wrong with that. Being a hero is hard work.” He’s being supportive. He understands; he’s a hero, too.

“With everything at home when I started... and being a hero...” your voice breaks, “pushing one down for the sake of the other and trying to hold myself together and quit... it sucks, Shouto.”

Your love’s eyebrows pull upward with worry. “I’m sorry, love. You always do your best, you do so well.”

You glance at him with tears in your eyes before dropping the cigarette to the ground and stomping it out with a drawn out sigh. That... actually felt nice. It hurt, too, but it was nice.

“I know I’ve said this before, but I want you to talk to me when you’re craving, okay?” Shouto’s hands grab yours, thumbs rubbing the back of your hand soothingly and slowly. “It doesn’t matter where I am or what I’m doing. I want you to talk to me. I want to help.”

You nod quickly, unable to form words as tears well up and your lips fight against you to grimace. You wipe at your eyes with your free hand, sniffling all the while. You choke out a quiet “thank you,” and swallow thickly, only for Shouto to lean toward you and plant a kiss to your forehead before pulling you in for a warm hug in the cool alley.

“Dont thank me,” he whispers, squeezing you tight for emphasis. “It’s only natural I want to help you. I love you. All of you. No matter what.”

You nestle your cheek to his shoulder. “Even if I fuck up?”

“Are you kidding? Of course, y/n. I’ll always be so proud of you for fighting on.”

Eijirou:

“Hey, y/n-“

You blink at him, cigarette between your lips and lighter in your shaky hand. Your eyes are puffy and your cheeks are red. The flame of the lighter licked the cigarette but did not light it, and then suddenly died out as you pulled your thumb off the plate below the wheel. You reached up and closed the window of the bathroom before sitting back down on the side of the tub with your hands in your lap. “Please don’t be mad...”

The grin he wore just before he saw the cigarette faded. “Hey, I’m not mad.”

“I had a really bad day and... I dunno.” You looked down at your hands and the lighter and cigarette within them. “I just needed one. Just one. To deal with it.”

“But...” He hesitated, worried he’d come off too chiding. “Remember? ‘Just one’ turns into two, then three...”

You nod. “I know, I know, but...” Your sniffle hits his ears and it’s hard to hear.

“I’m not mad, or trying to be mean... I’m just worried.” Eijirou scratches the back of his head almost awkwardly. “Why don’t we go for a walk, yeah? Get some fresh air, too?”

You didn’t feel like it, but agree anyway. Eijirou doesn’t take you anywhere in particular, just walking and turning here and there when he felt like it, your hand in his all the while. You’re quiet the entire time, but he speaks enough for the both of you, talking about everything he sees or whatever a certain sight seems to remind him of. His hand squeezes yours every so often, as if to remind you that you don’t need to say anything, as long as you let him do this, let him distract you, let him help you - how ever you want to word it.

But suddenly he stops and turns to you, red eyes bright and gleaming. “Can I ask something selfish of you?” It’s sudden and unlike him to ask something like this.

You’re taken aback, but nod anyway.

“Any time you get the urge, any time you catch yourself reaching for a cigarette, will you promise me you’ll get out and take a walk?” Eijirou’s voice is quiet and soothing, yet you pick up concern. “Or just get up and walk around if you’d rather not go out. Please? Even if I’m not around...?”

You smile at him, his expression immediately relaxing upon seeing it. “Promise.”

“Good! I don’t know how well distraction would work, but maybe it’ll help.” He shrugs and continues walking again, pulling you with him. He had a point. Some fresh air did feel nice, and hearing the birds chirping as you walked by a small park was relaxing. That, mixed with the warm and kind hand of your lover, seemed to wash away the awful day you’d experienced. It was so soothing, you wondered why you hadn’t thought of this sooner.

With a sweet sigh, the tension in your shoulders dies downs an you relax, finally, for the first time in a while. This was Eijirou’s doing, certainly. This walk would only be half as pleasant without him, but you promised. Push comes to shove, you could go out for a coffee or snack break on your walk to keep yourself occupied.

“Hey, Eijirou.”

His hand squeezes yours before he turns to look at you. “Hm?”

“Thank you.”

He gives you a toothy, closed-eye grin. “O’ course, sweetheart!”

#mha #mha scenarios #mha x reader #bakugou x reader #todoroki x reader #kirishima x reader #bakugou katsuki #todoroki shouto #kirishima eijirou #take care lovely! 🖤🤍🖤 #I hope you enjoy these!!

[purple-martin111]

The Sacrifices We Make

Read on Archive of Our Own

Chapters: 3/? Fandom: Fallout 4 Rating: Mature Warnings: The Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Paladin Danse/Female Sole Survivor Characters: Paladin Danse, Female Sole Survivor, Arthur Maxson, Scribe Haylen Additional Tags: Post-Blind Betrayal, Hurt/Comfort, Trauma, Depression, Anxiety, Guilt, Suicidal Thoughts, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Heavy Angst, Abuse, Mental Health Issues

Chapter 3 - The Road to Righteousness

"Well hold on, my darling This mess was yours, Now your mess is mine" -Mess is Mine, Vance Joy-

“I’ll see you on the other side…”

BANG!

Darkness exploded around her and Jackie shot up from her bedroll.

“Danse?!” She cried, feverishly groping for her rifle or her Pip-Boy, anything to help fend off whatever had jolted her awake.

“Soldier?”  It came out forceful and frantic as Danse clanked through the room, “What is it? What’s the matter?” 

“I-I don’t know... I can’t breathe!”  Jackie panted, her pounding heart threatening to strangle her. “Something’s wrong!” 

Unable to control her racing thoughts, Jackie trembled and clung to her bedroll. She was convinced she’d perish in a fit of hysteria or at the very least, die of embarrassment. In an attempt to conceal her shameful state and regain some semblance of control, she pressed her face into her hands,

“You’re alright.”  

She nearly leapt out of her skin at Danse’s hand on her shoulder and his voice in her ear. So consumed by her irrational fear, she hadn’t even heard him exit his power armor. It stood looming at the edge of the room and Danse... Danse was so near that Jackie was suddenly overwhelmed by all the emotions she’d been trying so hard to bury since leaving the vault. All the pain and heartache, her insurmountable grief, leaked from the little box she’d haphazardly stuffed them away in. 

“It’s not real, you’re safe. It’ll pass, just breathe.” 

Danse had taken a knee beside her and his grip, firm on her shoulder, moored her to reality. At least until she met his gaze and those heartbreakingly familiar brown eyes shattered her sanity. It took everything in her not to clamber into his arms and weep away her troubles. Instead Jackie clutched at his uniform and squeezed her eyes shut to block out the haunting reminder and hold back the tears caught just behind her lids. 

Nate, she missed him so goddamn much it hurt. But Danse...right now, Danse would have to do. She let his soft, calming words sooth her aching heart and slowly the panic subsided. Left with only an echo, Jackie’s hands fall into her lap. Broken and hollow, she grasped at the ghosts of her former life splintering in the parallels of her mind. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered and pawed at her face, wiping at tears or the flush of shame she didn’t know. 

“This is common among soldiers.” His hand lingered on her shoulder, a gentle reminder that despite her madness, Danse still had her back. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of.” 

Jackie just stared at her hands. There was sadness in Danse’s voice, a resonance of understanding that made her wonder about his own mental state. She wasn’t blind. She’d seen how he struggled. How he kept himself endlessly busy, avoiding sleep or rest so he didn’t have to confront his own demons. Danse carried the weight of the wasteland on his shoulders and clearly he cared about her. He was a tough nut to crack, but underneath it all he was kind and a good man. 

All Jackie had done since enlisting was repay his kindness in cruelty. She had been insubordinate at best and nothing short of a cold-hearted bitch at worst. 

“I haven’t treated you fairly,” she admitted, “I’ve been angry and so caught up in myself. You...” she nervously wrung her hands together as she trailed off, “you were an easy target.” 

Danse shifted to lean his elbow on his knee. “Sometimes trauma makes us do things we aren’t proud of.” 

“Doesn’t give me the right to be nasty.” She glanced over at him and was met with the faintest of smiles. 

“Is that an apology I hear, soldier?”  

“I-ah…,” she tittered to herself, “yeah, I suppose it is.” 

Danse continued grinning and knocked his shoulder against hers, "I appreciate the sentiment.” 

She leaned into him, wishing he could give her so much more than just fleeting touches. “Thanks,” she muttered and pulled away before her emotions got the better of her again, “I can take watch if you want.” 

“Negative,” his fingers brushed against her shoulder as he stood to retreat back to his armor, waiting until he was safely encased inside before continuing, “but you can sit with me if you’d like.” 

Just breathe.

Jackie’s chest ached at the recollection of that moment. Danse…he was the only thing worth fighting for in this world, the only thing keeping her breathing. He was her lifeblood and if he died at the hands of the Brotherhood for her mistakes, they might as well kill her too. 

This was her fault. She should have done more, fought harder, told Maxson where he could shove it and walked away. Should have run and never looked back and taken Danse somewhere far away. Somewhere near the sea where they could watch the sunrise and hear the waves crashing upon the sand in the evening. Leave it all behind and allow the Commonwealth to fall to its own demises. Jackie, however, had been selfish and naive in thinking that she and Danse could live in peace without retribution.

Despite her shaking hands and pounding pulse, she refused to be consumed by panic. It rattled her bones, scratching at her skull like the parasite it was, but Jackie pushed herself forward. She forced her feet to carry her across the room to where she had dumped her duffle bag the night before. Hastily, she stripped of her night clothes and plucked a clean uniform from her pack, dressing with little regard to her personal appearance. 

Unkempt and unhinged, her hair was a rat’s nest of wheat colored straw and her face a dirty, tear stained mess, but it would have to do. She would have to do.

With a sigh and a final glance around the room, she jabbed the elevator call button. As she waited for its descent she paced, attempting to formulate a plan. A plan that didn’t involve her solo assault on the Brotherhood stronghold or the very real possibility that she would be forced to murder their Elder. 

Shit. 

Staggered by the consequences of Danse’s actions, she stumbled to a halt. If she intended to survive this, she was going to have to bring down the Brotherhood--alone. If by some stroke of dumb luck she was successful, then what? The Commonwealth would crumble at the sudden power vacuum. 

Dammit Danse! 

Jackie slammed her fist against the elevator door just as it clanged open and she was left standing there, messaging her forehead between her fingers. She didn’t know what the hell she was going to do but she slung her duffle bag over her shoulder and snatched up her rifle nonetheless.  She would make it up as she went and wished to whatever gods were still listening that they didn’t end up dead. 

The elevator made an agonizingly slow ascent to the surface and Jackie prayed that she was wrong. She prayed that Danse had just gone to patrol the perimeter or ventured to a nearby settlement for supplies and he would be waiting for her in the vestibule of the bunker. But, when the elevator finally rattled to the surface, Jackie was greeted with darkness and the stark absence of Danse. 

The bunker entrance was empty, and quiet midsummer twilight greeted her as she stepped out into the wasteland. Her heart skipped a stuttering beat at the sight. Perhaps luck was still on her side because in the cover of night and concealed in her armor, Danse might still be alive.

In the distance, the sun peeked over the horizon, painting the skyline in faint wisps of pink and orange. The sunrise lazily eclipsed the deep blues and black of night while she headed east to the unofficial extraction point. As she walked on, she rooted around in her bag, searching for the signal grenade she’d stashed away in case of emergency. 

It didn’t take long to reach the designated location, a vacant stretch of broken road behind the old ironworks factory. She threw down the signal grenade and watched as the plume of smoke circled up into the heavens. Not so patiently she waited for the distant hum of the vertibird’s engines to break the silence.

Minutes crept by and before long the sun breached the horizon. With it, came the feeling of failure. Not once had she bothered to check in with Danse last night to assess his own mental state. His deteriorating physical health had been an obvious sign of his instability, yet Jackie had failed to acknowledge it. Instead, she burdened him with her insignificant troubles and neglected to reciprocate his kindness. Perhaps if she had, she wouldn’t be in this situation.

She had promised to be there for him, help him heal, and secretly she had vowed to love him. Then in the face of hardship, she’d abandoned him. Jackie couldn’t breathe and before she could stop it, tears were tumbling down her cheeks. She had betrayed him when he had needed her the most. 

The crippling intensity of her guilt sliced at her ribs, threatening to tear her apart. It would have been better, easier for them both, if she had just endured the pain of letting Danse go. Allowed him to move on and live out his days in peace. After everything he’d been through, he at least deserved that much.

The ground groaned beneath her feet as she paced in an attempt to occupy her mind and halt the hemorrhaging of her spiraling thoughts. Her gut churned, bile rising in her throat and she commanded her body to be still. Her urge to vomit quelled just in time to hear the familiar whirl of a vertibird’s engines approaching. Earth and grass whipped about and dirt was violently kicked up with the aircraft’s impending landing. Jackie covered her face with her arms, attempting to shield herself from the dust storm. As soon as the vertibird’s landing gear made contact with the ground she hoisted herself up into the troop load, despite the sickening feeling that still lingered.

A familiar face, clad in aviators and arrogance, greeted her when she clambered inside. It was always the same Lancer who retrieved her. The same pilot who had run transport for Danse and his team and who had taken Maxson to the bunker. He was the only one authorized for extraction from this location and even though words had never been exchanged, Jackie knew he knew and she wondered what price he had paid to keep their secret. 

He handed her a headset as she scooted by to sit in the co-pilot’s seat, the roar of the engines drowned out when she slipped it on. 

“Paladin,” His voice crackled through the earpiece, followed by a terse nod and salute. 

“Geers.” Jackie returned the gesture out of habit. 

For a moment Geers watched her, taking in her obviously disheveled state, but chose not to comment, “Ma’am, you’ve got orders to report to the Command Deck immediately upon arrival.” 

“Wonderful,” she scowled, “who did I piss on this time to be owed the pleasure?” 

A knowing look passed between them before he spoke, “The Elder knows where you go when you disappear.” 

Jackie said nothing and stared at her feet, the knots in her stomach twisting tighter. 

Geers allowed the void of conversation to stretch on before he added, “Maxson thought you weren’t coming back this time.” 

And there it was, the painful reminder of her violation. 

“Yeah, that was the plan, but...” She could feel his eyes on her, pitying her, questioning her. 

“...but what?” he dared to ask.

None of your goddamn business. 

Jackie wanted to snap at him. Put him in his place and maintain the distance held within the chain of command, but she bit her tongue because it was rude and Geers was one of the few people trusted. 

She twisted her hands together and mused her bottom lip. Should she tell him the truth? The truth would likely get him killed so Jackie decided on a half-truth. “There's been a recent development that requires my immediate attention back on the Prydwen.”  

Static hissed in the coms while Geers watched her with a frown hovering upon his brow. “You told him about Maxson...didn’t you?” he pressed her with the demand and sharp angel of his eyes when she didn’t immediately respond. “Jackie--” 

“Just take me back,” she snapped. It wasn’t a request, she was done playing games. Every second she spent dicking around with Geers put Danse at risk, they needed to leave--now.  

Geers cursed under his breath and Jackie could hear the eyeroll as he turned back to jab at the instrumentation panel. 

“Whiskey, golf, echo, seven, this is Lancer-Knight Geers en route to the Prywden.” 

Static droned in her ears, her stomach lurching when he abruptly jerked the stick to get them in the air. 

“Acknowledged, what’s your status Lancer?” the voice on the other end asked. 

“All’s quiet here.” Geers glanced over at Jackie, looking more smug than was appropriate for the situation. “But mission objective delta juliette is a go. Standby and I’ll brief you on our arrival.” 

More static and then finally air traffic control came back, “Roger that. You’ve been cleared for landing in bay two upon your arrival.”

“Roger out,” Geers responded and flipped a switch, cutting out the static.

Jackie regarded him with cinched brows, Geers wasn’t one for formalities. “What was that about?”

“Just…” he shrugged and peered over his sunglasses, “maybe you don’t have to do everything on your own.”

She shifted in her seat to fix him a hard glare. “I don’t think you comprehend the gravity of the situation.”

“And I think you underestimate my power of persuasion.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she scoffed.

“You’ll just have to trust me,” he smirked and turned his attention back to the horizon, “that maybe you--and Danse--still have some friends in the Brotherhood.”

God, she wanted to smack that stupid little grin right off his face. Somehow though, she managed to restrain herself and not feed his ego with the dignity of a response. Instead, she closed her eyes and hoped that whatever half-baked plan Geers had cooked up didn’t get them all killed.

#fallout #fallout 4 #danse #paladin danse #sole survivor #fallout oc #fanfic #writing #jackie #jacqueline dixon #the sacrifices we make #rewrite #rewrite of my fic sacrifices #my wriitng #chapter 3 #the road to righteousness

[adler-obsessed]

Heyo, I’ve noticed in some of your posts about China that you seem to always hint about there being some kind of darkness within her? Like most other sp fans depict her as kinda a selfish bitch, but like you always paint her as very serene and yet there’s something just below the surface that isn’t so pretty and I think it’s a really interesting take on her. I was wondering whether you’d mind doing one of your awesome analysis posts on what gave you that impression, if it’s not too much to ask??

woo boy, this is gonna be a long one and sorry for the wait anon but exams were killing me and this one took a while to put together, but I hope you enjoy!

So, yeah I’ve always pictured China as a person who’s very much keeping her vicious nature under control and yet, sometimes there are moments we see a part of it come out and yeah, here’s me trying to explain that!

Alright, so there’s three main things that give me this impression - China’s inner monologues, descriptions of her by those who she previously worked with e.g. Eliza Scorn, and her combat style - I’ll go through each of these sections in depth.

China’s inner monologues:

One thing I find immensely interesting when it comes to China’s inner voice and/or dialogue is that it generally seems to be in conflict, mostly in the ways she wants to accomplish her goal - often when China was forced into action in phase one, one of the first things that always is mentioned is her doing something that she wouldn’t have done before/wasn’t her first thought when it came to handling the situation - often, her initial reaction is something much more violent, cruel and brutal. Often, she has to remind herself of her supposed facade, of her grace and serenity, before she acts in a slightly less violent manner than she was considering.

EXAMPLES:

Her finger hovered by her elbow. One twitch would be all it took, and the pain would rise so suddenly their hearts would burst. Instead, she flattened her hand...

She smashed his head into the wall. It was so satisfying, making them hurt.... she felt the power snap through him and his whole body jerked wildly and he collapsed. She looked down. So, so satisfying... she closed her eyes, relaxing.

“He will not condemn me for my past actions, so long as I don’t revert to the person I once was. The war with Mevolent changed everyone who fought in it. We each saw things in ourselves that we would rather not admit to.”

“You beat me last time because I had grown complacent,” she said softly. “I had lost my edge. But I’ve had a year to get my edge back. Feel how sharp I am, Eliza?”

“You do not want to upset me,” China said, pushing her cup to one side. “You wouldn’t like me when I’m upset.”

Indeed, we even see this conflict mentioned in her dialogue when she talks to Prave:

“You know,” China said, “there was a time when nobody dared threaten me. I just wouldn’t stand for it. The amount of people I killed, of bodies I twisted and bones I snapped, all because they had allowed their anger to momentarily overwhelm their good sense. I regret it all now, of course. I was out of control. I was indulging the darkness inside me far too often. I was not, Mr Prave, a very nice person. But I have changed. I have allowed the years to mellow me....

But every once in a while, I get the urge....The urge for destruction. The urge to hurt, maim, kill. It’s quite a thing, to experience that urge, to let it wash over you, to give in to it. It’s addictive. It’s all-consuming. You lose yourself to it. It’s quite, quite wonderful. I can feel it, even as I speak, tapping around the edges of my mind, trying to prise me open, slip its fingers in. And it would be so easy to let it happen. But we’re all like that, aren’t we? We’re all barbarians at our core. We’re all savage, murderous beasts. I know I am....I know I roar very loudly indeed. How about you? Do you think you can match me?”

Simply put, China’s true nature is one a lot more impulsive and a lot more brutal than the facade she puts up.

Descriptions by others:

Secondly, one of the key things that crops up when people from her past describe her is her inclination towards violence and action - China’s neutrality is a far more foreign concept to them than it is to us as the readers, and this really does show:

EXAMPLES OF HER NATURE:

“China, because she enjoyed that kind of thing, went after your wife. By all accounts, it was a knock-down, drag-out fight.”

“Look at her face, Prave. Isn’t it a beautiful face? Isn’t it the most beautiful face you ever did see? But beauty is so deceptive. Looking at her now, you’d never guess that she was calculating the most efficient way of killing us, would you? There’s not a hint of that in those startlingly pale blue eyes. If we didn’t know better, we’d still be gazing at her, falling in love all over again, and she could walk right up and stab us through the heart, and we’d never see it coming. All because of that beautiful face.”

“What’s in the past is in the past,” China said. “I’m going to end up killing every one of you for all this, and one more name added to the list won’t make much difference.” Gallow looked at her, then at Scorn. “I thought you said she was under control.”

EXAMPLES TO DO WITH NEUTRALITY:

“It’s time to take off this mask you wear, to end this charade. You need to take your place.”

“My place is right here.”

“We both know that’s not true. You could no more turn your back on the Faceless Ones than I could. I have seen your devotion.”

“My devotion, as you call it, has waned.”

Vengeous shook his head. “You have sworn your allegiance to the dark gods. You cannot simply change your mind.”

“I expected more from you, China. When you left us, I thought you’d be back. No one could do the things you’d done and then walk away. I didn’t think it was possible.”

Practically all of them can’t believe her passivity, because to them, that isn’t the China they know and fought beside for however long. Instead, the China they describe reveals a much more darker nature than the one we see - a China who wasn’t valued because of the information she had or her manipulation of others - a China who was valued for her effective and brutal action against the cause’s enemies.

Indeed, when considering China’s role during the war it becomes much clearer that she was ultimately valued for her devotion and ferociousness, her brutality and her effectiveness

Her fighting style:

Lastly, that leads us to the final thing - China in combat.

Now, one of the criticisms I saw after Bedlam that surprised me is that people felt that when China was fighting in some chapters, it felt too ‘Tanith’ or wasn’t elegant enough.

But the thing is, China’s fighting style has always been extremely rough.

EXAMPLES:

Strength flooded her body and, when Mist reached for her, China grabbed her wrist and twisted, locking Mist’s arm straight and forcing her to her knees... China struck the back of her elbow. Mist shrieked and the elbow shattered and shards of bone ruptured the skin.

China parried the blow and chopped at Tanith’s bicep. Tanith back-pedalled, her right arm hanging uselessly, and China stepped in quickly and caught her with a solid haymaker to the jaw.... China turned her attention back to Tanith. She activated the symbols on both of her palms, then stepped up to clamp her hands on either side of Tanith’s head. Tanith arched her back and screamed.

She hurled daggers of red light and dived a rider who came at her with a sword. She slammed her forehead into his face.... “Skulduggery?” China demanded, breaking a rider’s wrist and jabbing her fingers into his eyes.

China hit him from the side... In an instant, China was leaning over him, her hand pressing against his forehead. He screamed, then went silent, but China kept her hand on his forehand, making his body jerk.

The sigils on China’s knuckles flashed into his line of sight right before she broke his nose... her fist crunched into his side, smashing ribs.

There seems to be an assumption that because China is seemingly filled with grace that her fighting style would also be this simple, effortless thing.

And in a way, it is, when one considers her discipline, with her sigils meaning she can easily defend herself in a moments notice. But China’s fighting style has never been about grace - it’s always been about effectiveness, taking down her opponent in the quickest way. Indeed, Eliza Scorn even mentions this:

“Looking at her now, you’d never guess that she was calculating the most efficient way of killing us.”

And, very often, the first thing we see China lose when she enters a fight is that grace as she practically springs into action.

EXAMPLES:

China, meanwhile, was getting down and dirty with the remaining mage. They rolled across the ground, China’s hair in her face. Finally, China simply grabbed the sorcerer’s head and slammed it down into the concrete, once, twice. Satisfied that her opponent was no longer a threat, she got up, breathing hard and looking angry.

All of these examples clearly indicate just how brutal her fighting technique is and indeed how brutal her natural response to things is.

Overall:

One of things I notice most when people simplify China’s characterisation is that they turn her into a weak, vain bitch who isn’t able to defend herself or a princess who views violence or at least being involved in combat as beneath her - the truth is, China has always been a paradox: The beautiful woman with the ugly nature, the self serving who was once devoted, the graceful creature who easily becomes the brutal killer.

Another thing people seem to forget that the China we meet in Book One is very different to the China the people who she spent the majority of her youth and adult life with expect- her neutrality, her commitment to her library and indeed her self serving nature are all very foreign to them - perhaps we should all consider why and also what she was like before she decided to leave the conflict.

Part of the reason why I love China is that there are so many hidden and unexplored parts of her personality and nature that are only hinted at - she’s not a black and white character, and often people’s perception of her changes when they try to simplify her character into something black and white.

And yeah, that’s the basics behind this headcanon!! Hope it all makes sense and if not, feel free to drop another ask or dm!!

#skulduggery pleasant #china sorrows #ask

[annaraebananawriter]

Hope

Yellow again everyone! I’m here with yet another oneshot. This one is a bit of a character study, just so you know. There’s no dialogue, just thoughts. And who else will I write besides the bean himself, Dream!

Fandom: Undertale, but specifically Dreamtale

Characters: Dream (Who belongs to Joku), with some of Nightmare (Who belongs to Joku)

Warnings: Depression, implied/referenced self-harm, suicidal thoughts, maybe suicide ideation, and I think that’s it? Let me know!

Word Count: 2604

~oOo~

Dream knows that hope is a foolish thing.

He knows that it can hurt. That the more you hope for, the more hope is lost. The bigger you hope, the bigger the disappointment. It distorts reality. It floats out of reach. It makes you believe that things will be alright when it is very likely they won’t be.

He knows this. Knows that, despite everything, you keep hoping. You learn to create hope so big, you can live inside it. You learn to become consumed by hope. Become blinded by it. That way, you are safe. No one can take your hope away. You keep hoping and hoping, your hopes getting higher and higher.

Until…

You get carried away.

You become a glimmer of hope for others, never tending to your own hopes. Basically, giving up yourself to help others. Strangers. Disappearing into a world where you are so blind, so naïve to the reality of the people around you. Float off into a bright cloud of hope, becoming consumed by it until your inevitable crash with reality.

~oOo~

Dream has wanted to give up before. Many times, in fact.

An interesting thing for the Guardian of Positivity to say, huh?

But it’s true. He knows how it feels to get so lost in your thoughts that they stray. They stray out of the light, gathering specks of darkness until you get lost in a sea of bleak things. Dangerous things.

(It’s at these times that he finds himself standing on a cliff. Watching whatever is beneath him. Danger filling him and alarms ringing in his mind. He ignores those signs and stands there. He’s lost. Has been for a long—)

He tries to ignore them. Sometimes, he even tries to use his own aura to calm himself down. To make him think of happier things. Happier times.

…It doesn’t work.

(Like when he wakes up on the verge of screaming. The bad thoughts are at their strongest then. He tries, tears running wild and his chest feeling tight. His aura lights up the room, a soft golden glow that is very pretty for those observing, if there was anyone. It never works. Of course, it doesn’t. He’s meant to help others, not himself. That would be selfish and—)

When his thoughts spiral, they tend to turn to Nightmare.

It’s a weird thing. He feels like he’s lost someone, someone who might be gone forever, left him alone and turned to dust a long time ago and yet he sees this person almost every day. Like their here, yet they’re not. It’s agony.

Is there a word for it? When you lost something, yet it’s right in front of you? Probably not. There should.

He misses Nightmare. Not the one he sees now, but his Nightmare. His brother, not this mockery of him. The one who was happy and confident and nice. The one who took care of him, read him stories, played with him, made sure he remembered to eat. He misses those times. He yearns to go back, but with that yearning comes the bad thoughts, and he would rather avoid them if he could.

The Nightmare of now hates him. These thoughts hurt him. They make him want to curl up and wait for the world to open up beneath him and swallow him. But he knows they’re true. He sees it with every hit, every glare, every fight, every encounter. Every argument, every blame, every word, everything. It seems he couldn’t escape it if he tried, not that he will.

Something inside of himself always says that it’s his fault that Nightmare is this way now. This part says that if he tried harder, if he had stayed with him more, if he had simply not been an idiot. Maybe it’s right. Maybe it’s not.

(He believes that it is.)

~oOo~

Dream knows that hope is a reckless thing.

He knows that when it consumes you, blinds you, you lose sense of what is appropriate. What is right at the right times. It can make you see things the way you want to see things, not the way things are. For example, you will try to give mercy to something that has not shown to understand nor want it. You will try to give mercy to something that hates you.

He knows this. Knows that, despite everything, you keep hoping. You learn to take their words and ignore them, no matter if it hurts and stings you. You learn to become so overtaken by hope, so full of it, that you spill over. Become a fountain for everyone to take from.

Until…

You run dry.

After you crash back to reality, people will fuss. Not over you, but over their source of hope, because they are too lazy, selfish or stubborn to create their own. This may sound nice, but it will not help. You will get worse. Your hope will disappear until only a spark remains. Then, it will continue to fade away until it extinguishes entirely.

~oOo~

Dream fights the Nightmare of now because it is his job. People need him to.

He doesn’t want to. Not really. Because, though he is a mockery of his brother and not the real one, he still bears his name and his body. So, it almost feels as though he is entitled to care about him. To try and save him, almost die trying. But it’s the wrong one.

He wants to save his brother. Not this impersonator.

(Though, there are times that he has seen some hesitation on his face. Which is weird. He hates him. Why would he hesitate to fight, hesitate to hit, hesitate to hurt? It doesn’t make sense. It confuses him. Why would he care about—)

He thinks lots. If this imposter is here, does that mean Nightmare is dead? Or is he trapped? Hidden? If that’s the case, does he need him to come to find him? To save him? Does he even want his help? Does he hate him? Blame him?

He tries to stop his thoughts before they go off.

…It doesn’t work.

(Like when he holds the one knife in his hands. He’s sitting alone in his room, which is dark, as it is most of the time. A perfect contrast. He plays with the knife. Twisting, turning, twisting turning. Cutting. The gold of his blood well up from the accidental cut on his finger. His gazes slips from it to his arm, hidden under his glove. He wonders if—)

Sometimes, he gets overwhelmed.

When this happens, time disappears. It’s a challenge for when this happens during battle. He tries his best, but he suspects that his opponent notices when he stumbles suddenly, looking frantic and breathing beginning to speed up. Then again, his opponent hates him, so he might brush it off. Whatever happens, things haven’t changed.

After battle, he will retreat into his room until this passes. He doesn’t know how long it takes; he never keeps track. Once, his friends got really worried about him. They knocked on the lots of times that day. Eventually, he came out of his room, smiling like always.

He suspects they know he’s not alright, that he’s never been alright.

He’ll never confront them. If he does, he’ll be admitting something is wrong. That he is wrong. Which he isn’t. He’s not hurt. He’s not cracked. And he’s definitely not broken. That would be dangerous, if he was. It would mean the thoughts were right.

It would mean his thoughts, both bad and good and that other part that’s directed inwards, is right.

(It’s his fault. His fault. His fault. His fault, his fault, his fault his fault hisfaulthisfaulthis—)

~oOo~

Dream knows that hope is a determined thing.

He knows this. He doesn’t think he’s too determined, though. He gives up too easily. He also knows, that if you feed hope correctly, it can become a raging fire. A fire so big, you are consumed by it. Though…you are not blinded by this. This one makes you stronger, makes you feel invincible.

He knows this. His hope isn’t this one, nor is it foolish or reckless. He’s not sure what it is. It feels like poison. Like it slips in his soul and thrives off everything he pushes down. Your fiery hope can become like this if you don’t stop feeding it. Give it enough, and it will kill you.

Until…

You let go.

You drop this poison and let it slither away, looking for someone new to fall victim. It’s in its nature. After this, you will start again. You will go through a loop of making a fire, fanning its spark, lose control, and let go. This is it. There is no escaping.

~oOo~

Dream makes a mistake, eventually. He knew he would.

He had been losing control recently. His thoughts slipping through, getting out of hand. He had to upgrade to longer, darker gloves. His friends are concerned; he can see them staring at him when he zones out in the living room. It’s hard to mask that.

He tries. He makes his smiles wider, his tone happier. He spends all day like this, even falling asleep with a smile stapled to his face, which stings. Tears are an urge he pushes away. If he indulges, he’ll be left with evidence. That can’t happen. People will fuss. They always do. He hates it.

(He hates himself more. It doesn’t surprise him when his thoughts turn inwards, that one part of his mind taking control. It’s almost nice. It makes him feel something. For once.)

He remembers that he tried talking before, a long time ago, with his only friend besides his brother in the village. He had had fewer problems then. Though, he had enough to not be okay. He was far worse now. He was past fixing, probably.

So, he had to stay silent. If he is, maybe he’ll get through it.

…It doesn’t work.

(Like when his friends tried to help him. He had been backed into a corner. They had ambushed him, caught him off guard, which was quite hard to do. They shared their concerns, hoping to get through to him. He had stayed silent. He had to. If he talked, things would get worse. He will get through it by himself. He doesn’t need to burden—)

It was during a fight with Nightmare that he made the mistake.

He couldn’t remember entering the fight, or what exactly happened. He only remembered slipping. Something falling off his tongue, out his mouth before he could stop it. He had frozen; his opponent had frozen. The battle had frozen, become quite cold, almost too cold to breathe in.

He remembers panicking. Teleporting away. Away from arms that tried to stop him. Away from his past. Away from his mistake. He had curled up somewhere cold, shivering, arms around his skull, crying. Nobody came. That was good.

He eventually calmed enough to disappear into his mind. It was like he fell asleep, but his eyes were open. He had shut down completely.

(His thoughts were his only company now. They screamed.)

~oOo~

Dream knows hope is a fragile thing.

He knows this. Thoughts can taint it. Thoughts can poison it. Doubt can tear it. Worry can cut it up. Sadness and anger can break it. You will be left with ruined hope, though you will try to make it seem like it is untainted. You will live a lie. You will delude yourself. Lies, lies, lies. These lies will become your go-to defence.

He knows this. He knows that the lies will build a mask. Build a new person, some blank slate for you to play. You get to pick its voice, its clothes, its personality. Anything. As long as it is the opposite of your truth. Because your truth is deadly.

Until…

You give up.

Your hope shatters. Shatters like a mirror. Its shards fall to the ground, so brittle they break into even smaller bits. They become so small; you can’t pick them up anymore. It’s almost like sand, how they fall between your fingers. You cannot fix this. Not by yourself.

~oOo~

Dream doesn’t notice that he gives up.

He doesn’t notice lots of things.

He doesn’t notice his friends become frantic with worry, searching everywhere for him, desperate enough to tell Nightmare about how he has been recently.

He doesn’t notice Nightmare laugh at first, then gradually become serious, worried, joining in searching, realizing how awful he’s been recently, gaining the ability to return to his former self, the one before corruption.

He doesn’t notice the multiverse panic in his disappearance.

He doesn’t notice the balance shifting.

He doesn’t notice the ten months he’s been gone.

~oOo~

Dream knows…

~oOo~

Dream does notice when Nightmare finds him.

He had become submerged in snow. It was difficult to distinguish his bones from the powder. It was hard to tell if he was alive at all. He had become catatonic. Staring at nothing. Staring through Nightmare. Yet he hears things. He hears, he feels, he tastes, he thinks. He hears Nightmare find him.

He hears him stop.

He hears him slowly approach, like he’ll disappear if he moves too slowly.

He hears him kneel beside him. Take his hands away from his skull and hold them. Brush some snow off him.

He hears him talk. Talk about what he missed. Talk about what he’ll have to catch up on, what he’ll have to do. This talk shifts. He starts talking about how sorry he was. How he should’ve noticed.

Nightmare apologizes.

For the first time in months, his eyes brighten. He can see.

~oOo~

Dream knows that…

~oOo~

Dream almost jumps away when he sees his brother, not the imposter he was expecting.

In fact, he probably would’ve. If his bones weren’t frozen and stiff, in dire need of heat. He couldn’t speak either, or he would’ve been asking if this was a trap. He didn’t think it was. He hoped it wasn’t.

He gazes at his Nightmare, who had his head bent low, staring at their hands. He looks just as he remembered. It had been so long. He never thought he’d see him again. The realization that he was in front of him, and the heat on his cold hands making him real and not a hallucination, was almost enough to bring tears to his eyes. He fought them.

One escaped.

It slipped down his cheek, dropping into the snow around him. He stared at his brother.

He couldn’t speak. Instead, he reached out with his magic. He reached out to Nightmare, searching for his attention. His magic practically screamed that he was awake, alive, present. He was back.

Nightmare blinked. They made eye contact. Nightmare smiled at him, like nothing was wrong. Nothing was broken. He wasn’t broken. His eyes were barely focused. Nightmare sensed him spiralling and reached out with his magic, shushing him. He gingerly gathered him up, hugging him loosely.

Nightmare welcomed him back.

He didn’t hug back. His head fell to Nightmare’s shoulder, resting.

Something warm entered his soul. It startled him. It was new. Unfamiliar. Yet it felt…nice. Right. It made him relax. It made him itch to hug his brother back. It brought more tears, this time those of relief, as he placed the feeling.

It was hope.

~oOo~

Dream knows that hope is a foolish thing.

However, he also knows that the most foolish thing you can do, is stop hoping.

#my writing #my fanfiction #oneshot #dream sans #nightmare sans #character study #dreamtale #tw self-harm #tw suicidal thoughts #tw self deprecation

[thecardsimagine]

The Tale of the Fog Village

Summary: Venturing out of your foggy village, all you wanted was to save everyone from the looming threat that cowered in the forest. No one could have known what you would encounter in your quest to achieve that, how much you’d gain, and what you would lose. Not you. Not him.

Pairing: Lucio x Reader (Nonbinary) Rating: Mature because of swearing and suggestive content Warning: Blood, Death Genre: Romance, Drama, Fantasy, Action, Alternate Universe

Back to the Prologue / [Read on Ao3] / Next Chapter

____________________________

a/n: Hi guys! Got the time to sit down and correct my finished chapters again, so I thought I’d post this now! If you have any thoughts on it, please let me know! And if you could share it around, I’d be very grateful to you! ____________________________

Chapter 5 - The Patrol of the Keeper

You couldn’t remember when you fell asleep. At first, there had been more rustling and heavy breathing around you, but eventually, the area around the cave had calmed. Somewhere between feeling like you could not utter a breath and the curiosity to look outside, you must have closed your eyes, wishing everything to just go away.

It wasn’t quite fair to the voice - the ominous ‘Lucio’ - that you had managed to nap away, but aside from the uncomfortableness and the stiff neck, you were still glad you could have caught up on some more sleep.

“Aha, look who decided to wake up again,” you heard it pout in your head. Groggy, you brought one hand up to brush back your hair and warm your neck for a little while, a quiet groan rumbling off your lips. “How can you even sleep in such a situation?”

Shaking your head, you let out a sigh. “Sorry, I don’t know why that happened. It just came over me…” You stretched out, arms and legs letting out cracks and pops before you stumbled to your feet, carefully approaching the exit of the cave. Stopping, you couldn’t help but be overwhelmed with a sudden feeling of fear, making you take a step back and ask, “Is it safe now?”

“It’s been safe for a while,” the voice practically hissed into your conscience. “Alright, alright. I get it,” you sighed.

Stepping outside, you felt the wind blow through your clothes and hair, swaying them to the side, while you took a deep breath. Taking in the fresh air, you noticed your stomach rumbling, feeling quite empty after all the time. Reaching into your bag, you pulled out the piece of stale bread, working under your coat to break a part off, and leaving you some for a later point in time. You hoped it would still be edible by then, but the hard piece crunching in your jaw was enough to satisfy your hunger for now.

A small cough slipped from your lips as the dryness hit your throat, but you were quick to cover it up by burying your face in your coat. “So what was that?” you asked, munching away on the bread and looking around. Your eyes fell on the ground, seeing the oppressed plants that seemed to have been stepped on by something. Something... big.

“Woah,” you muttered, cautiously stepping closer to what you could make out as a footprint. With one foot, you stepped into it, immediately lifting again to see the differences between the two marks on the ground, shuddering lightly. Not even one toe of the footprint could you fill with one length and wide of your foot, and suddenly, what Lucio said about there being things that were worse than animals seemed very true.

“Will you stop wasting time?” the voice picked up again, sounding like a scolding parent to a child.

“It’s just SO big,” you pointed out, vaguely gesturing the form of it with your hands.

“And it’s not that important, alright? Pretty sure that you don’t really want to find out what it was. But if we stay here, it might come back, and I am not sure you will like that.”

Shaking your head, you agreed with a sigh, letting yourself be pointed into the next direction. By the time you managed to get back to the spot that you two had decided to abandon for a break the last time, the early evening signs were visible and audible. Finally, the birds tweeting returned, accompanied by the hooting of some owls here and there.

The fog had been lifted - if you believed what Lucio said, since a while already - and the forest was soaked into an orange light from the setting sun. A fine evening, how you found, though you couldn’t help the feeling of dread. There was a deep want in you to just throw everything away and go back still, especially with the night coming. And the voice didn’t help calm your worries either.

“I am just saying-” you muttered, making a wide step over a root that was sticking out of the ground. “-if there really are monsters, I am not sure if I am fit for the purpose. Maybe one of those guards who made really loud steps yesterday would be? We could ask them, and-”

“Get killed, so your mother can’t retrieve nothing more than your skull from them if she dares? Great idea. Highly recommended,” it interrupted you, and you couldn’t help but sigh.

“Okay, new idea…” you muttered, trying to come up with something else. “I will guess what that monster was, and you tell me if I am right or not.”

“We don’t have time for this. If you have the energy to talk, why don’t we go a little faster.”

“Aw… So, a bear?”

“Did you even listen?” it huffed, clearly annoyed. However, you were determined to get some information as it was only fair since you were the one running around with a monstrosity on the loose.

“Yes or no?”

It sighed. “No.”

“A… crocodile?”

“A what?”

“Crocodile? Live in big rivers. I’ve read about them in books! They have scales and are green and got massive teeth-”

“Well, I’ve been here a while, and I think I would have noticed those things. But I will admit I am intrigued.”

Giggling, you brought your hands together, wringing them while you thought about what else could it be. “What about the ‘The Keeper’?” you asked without thinking too much, the words carelessly leaving your thoughts while you tried to come up with more possibilities. Only when the voice started to question it, you realized what you had just said.

“Sometimes, you do not make a whole lot of sense, Child.”

Sighing, you gave a silent apology and prayer that you didn’t just dig your own grave. There were still lingering suspicion, and ‘Lucio’ had done nothing else but confirm that you had every right to feel that way. Maybe it was stupid to bring up something like this old story, told in your village whenever the fog rose. “I-It’s nothing. Just a fairytale…”

“Well, now you have to tell me. That’s only fair!”

You sighed inwardly. There hadn’t been much fairness between you two so far, really. It was just a voice urging you around the forest to do a lot of risky things, in your opinion. It was as far away from fairness as you were from your village. Biting your lip in hesitation, you thought about how to explain the situation without sounding superstitious and childish, the last two things you wanted the voice to point out to you now.

“Ah… damn it,” you cursed, feeling yourself giving in to its curiosity.

“Well, we have a lot of fog in the village, right? And the elders… well, I guess it’s just hard to explain what fog is to little kids, so they made up this story about the ‘Keeper’.”

“Go on,” the voice encouraged while you tried to wrangle your way out of a thorny bush without getting stung too much.

“Just…” you groaned, getting frustrated over your clothes being stuck in the thorns. When you finally freed yourself, you sighed deeply, thinking back about how the story went in detail. If you were going to tell it, you were at least going to do it right.

“So apparently there was a person, or so. Everyone views them a little differently. Some say they are an ancient being, and some say it is just a human, cursed and bound to the forest and the village.”

You made a short break, evaluating if you had your own opinion to add to this, but you found none to share. In reality, you found the story a little unbelievable and exaggerated yourself, thus you thought it would be quite boring to tell and hear it now from you. For a moment, you wanted to add something like a cool detail, but it just wouldn’t come to you on how to make the tale a little bit more exciting.

“Anyhow, that… being apparently was very selfish, and it decided it wanted a village all to itself. So it led some unknowing people into a forest, where it wouldn’t let them escape anymore, and they eventually build a village and stayed there. And that village is supposed to be my village.”

Taking a deep breath, you kept your eyes on the ever-darkening path before you. Or really, no path anymore, just thicket that the voice wanted you to conquer despite your complaints and exhaustion. You couldn’t help the frown appearing on your face as you continued with the probably worst part of the tale.

“And because it didn’t want anyone to get in or get out for whatever reason, it created the fog, so that the people would lose their orientation and scurry back to hide in their save village. That’s why it’s called ‘Keeper’ and the rising of fog every now and then is called ‘The Patrol of the Keeper’. Makes sense now?”

There was another moment of silence from the voice as it probably was thinking about your story. You had almost shrugged off the possibility to get any reaction from it, until it suddenly echoed back into your mind, sounding like a disapproving mumble.

“No, it can’t be that either.”

“Well, what is it then?” you asked, feeling irritated again. It was strange enough to talk to someone in your head, but its one-sided conversation were slowly but surely getting on your nerves. “You know, I feel like you know a lot more than you are saying,” you pointed out, hoping to find a weak spot. But the voice only huffed indifferently.

“I am just saying that it’s not that ‘Keeper’ thing. It really doesn’t matter if you just keep walk-”

You stopped. Pausing your steps, you took a deep breath, just standing there in the forest, which slowly grew darker as the time passed. “Ah ha ha, very funny. What are you doing there?” it complained, voice filled with sarcasm. You just shrugged. “Well maybe…” you thought out loud, a smile returning to your lips. “Maybe I will just stand here until you tell me what it was.”

“What?!” it almost shrieked, and you felt the pain in your head from how loud it was.

“You can’t just stand there! What if it catches up to you? Do you want to end up as fodder for a monster?!”

“I don’t have to,” you responded, staying still. Of course, you found the thought of becoming some monster food unnerving, and without question, you’d have liked to go hide again, but if you were to only ever give in to what the voice said, you were nothing better than a slave doing tasks. Someone without your own will and without standing up for yourself.

You never knew what was going on with the voice. The lack of a face and body language made it hard to interpret the silent pauses it sometimes threw in, probably retreating from your mind willingly as to not reveal something to you it didn’t want you to know. Lifting your arms to your head, you rebraided your braid, making it a little tighter. You could feel how your muscles were aching, especially your stiff neck and thighs. How nice it would have been to take a bath now or apply some herbs to help with the aches, but you weren’t sure if you could get either in the forest.

“O-Okay, fine!” it finally relented, sounding surprisingly nervous the longer you stood there.

“So you will tell me?”

“Yes, but only if you keep moving!”

“Hm… I am not sure…”

You felt a sudden rough push into your back, the wind lashing out to you again. “Ouch!” you complained, stumbling forward and looking back in annoyance, though, of course, there was nothing to direct your anger on except the view of trees and bushes wherever you looked. “Don’t test me!” it hissed, and you rolled your eyes, feeling the frustration build from having to be the one to relent again.

Picking up the steps, you rubbed your lower back where you had felt the hit, clicking your tongue as you touched the exact spot and felt a sting. “That really hurt…”

“W-Well it’s not my fault if you decide to be so stubborn!”

“Just tell me, damnit!” you demanded, getting angrier and angrier with the voice. “Is it the Keeper? Is that why you are so hesitant to tell me? If that story is true, I can take it, it can’t be THAT bad-”

“No, I already told you it can’t be!” it growled back. You had to take a deep breath to not let the irritation get the best of you and accidentally lash out.

“But what else? You just keep saying ‘no’ but you saw that footprint, right? It was massive!”

“Of course, I saw it! B-but… it still cannot be that ‘Keeper’-thingy! Stop insisting on it!”

“Well, why don’t you stop being so sensitive about the topic! You insisted on knowing about it!”

“Yes, okay? I did want to know!”

Letting out a groan, you found it almost harder than anything you did ever before to not cry from frustration. All you wanted was at least one clear answer. All the mysteries were getting very tiresome. “I don’t know anything that would leave those footprints… If it can’t be an animal, it must be something like the Keeper, right? A human cursed to keep the people in the forest, that description would fit a monster.”

“Last time now,” it hissed, and you could hear its anger swell too. “It cannot be the Keeper.”

“Why?” you asked, even though you couldn’t help the exhaustion show in your voice. You didn’t even expect an answer anymore, it was a useless fight to have with an entity in your head, but you were fed up with its less than cohesive answers and its belittling of you. So less than anything you expected it to answer you, even if it was a whisper through ground teeth on the voice’s side.

“Because if there’s anything like that Keeper here, then that would be me.”

#lucio #lucio the arcana #the arcana lucio #the arcana #The Arcana Game #the arcana scenarios #The Arcana headcanons #the arcana fanfiction #the arcana imagine #The Arcana imagines #count lucio #Montag Morgasson #Fantasy!AU #lucio x reader #AU!The Arcana #AU #Fanfiction #OW

[eviesmyspiritanimal]

No Space Between Part 1 of 2

Summary: What if Mal never got into the limo heading back to Auradon in D2? What if Mal had stayed on the Isle? What would've happened to Evie? Let's just say that Evie may have made promises about spaces between, but she had no intention of keeping them. Bal, Core Four family feels, small, tiny, and barely miniscule hints of Bevie, and tons of Mal and Evie best friend angst and fluff.

  It had been one week. One week since Evie had been forced to leave behind the most important person in her life in the hole that they were in at the very beginning of it all.

  Her heart ached, and it was like a piece of Evie’s entire being was missing. Every time Evie looked over at that empty side of the room--- that side of the room that belonged to her--- Evie felt like falling into hysterical sobbing from which she could never emerge.

  It seemed like since Mal refused to come back, everything and everyone had went into insane disarray.

  Doug had burst in on her the earlier part of this torturous week with accusations on his tongue of how she had cheated on him with Happy’s son and how she had gone on something as ridiculous as a camping trip without him. Evie was in no mood to tolerate his ridiculous neediness, and she very coldly and calculatedly told him to get out of her office and not to dare show his face around her again unless he wanted her to get Jay to take care of things.

  It was just as well. She had never wanted him anyway. Especially not when her sister, her best friend, and her everything was gone. In fact, Evie didn’t even have the patience to remotely tolerate him since Mal was not there.

  Ben was a mess, and Evie felt her heart ache for him. But she didn’t allow herself to get too close because she knew that, despite Mal’s open declaration that she simply could not be around him anymore, he still belonged to Mal. She could never betray her sister who was purely her heart.

  Jay was extremely closed-off and hadn’t actually had a full-on conversation with either Carlos or Evie during the whole week. It had just been short small talk here and there before heading off to go to the gym once again. Evie was beginning to think that he was going to look like some kind of miniature Hulk by the time that he was through.

  Carlos had been a terrible wreck, and he had been even more nervous about Jane and that entire situation. It was a true shame, too, because they were an adorable couple and quite obviously liked one another. But it seemed that one of his three siblings being gone had really damaged what confidence and bravery he had.

  With all of this craziness going on around her, the only thing that was keeping Evie from completely losing her mind was the promise of what was going to happen if she could finish the wardrobe that she was currently working on so intently. Recently, she had put her business on an indefinite hold so she could dedicate her time and work to a new project. It was a bit of a selfish project, but nevertheless, it would help heal her aching heart and maybe even Mal’s, too, if she was missing Evie as much as Evie was missing Mal.

  After all, Evie was not going to let her Mal, her sister, her best friend, and her everything stay on the Isle of the Lost alone. No matter what promises had been made about spaces between.

  But tonight was the night. She was going to take her backpack chock full to the brim with clothing and sneak out of Auradon, taking a limo with her. She had already planned that she was going to open the barrier, waste no time in shutting it, and then proceed to stuff the remote deep in her zippable pockets. That way, she wouldn’t require anyone to drive her and she could just disappear. Plus, she’d have a way to get back on the odd chance that Mal would want to return.

  Evie gathered her things, stuffing the already overstuffed backpack with all kinds of makeup and just things that were important to the girl. Like that picture of her, Mal, Jay, and Carlos together.

  She paused to stroke its frame, and gaze at it carefully. It was a scene that she would likely not have the privilege to witness again for a long time. But it was for the best. They all belonged together, but Evie always belonged with Mal, and she didn’t want the boys to feel obligated to come with her.

  Evie shook herself from the thick, overwhelming emotions overcoming her, and she stuffed the picture in the backpack, trying to hide it amongst the vast amounts of clothing. Evie sighed as she tried to zip the bag to the best of her abilities.

  It finally shut after multiple yanks, and Evie nodded resolutely as she headed for the dorm door. Just before she exited, she paused in the doorway to look at the room for one last time.

  It was beautiful. Quite possibly more beautiful than it was when she had seen it for the first time, because now it had touches of its two previous residents intricately mixed with it. Signatures of purple and blue painted all about the room with definitive trademarks of Mal and Evie were laced throughout every piece of furniture and every item.

  Evie felt a bit of sadness overcome her at the sight, but she quickly steeled herself and pushed those tears away. It was all worth nothing without Mal there to share it with her.

  Evie hurried down the hallways, only slowing down to look a bit more casual if she thought that she saw a student hurrying by in an attempt to get to their room before curfew.

  The bluenette slipped through several doorways, making her way around the school, until she finally got outside to the limo that she knew was nearby the school. It was the one specifically used for Ben who was still attending school to commute in, which made her feel even worse about stealing it. But she had no choice. She had to get to Mal, and absolutely nothing was going to stop her.

  Except maybe the body that she had just slammed into as she ran through the doorway that would lead her directly to the limo.

  Evie placed her hands on the person’s chest, pushing backward as she collected herself, an apology and possibly even an excuse on her tongue, but her thought process altogether stopped as she realized that it had been Ben she ran into. She swallowed hard as she realized that Carlos and Jay were standing nearby, their arms crossed over their chests as they looked at her questioningly.

  Evie looked at them all blankly for a long moment before mustering a sweet smile that was unfortunately conveying more nervous energy than any other emotion.

  “Hey, guys! What are you up to tonight?” Evie questioned effortlessly, trying not to seem as if she were about to steal a limo. The boys just shared a glance, and Ben gazed at her in concern. Evie took a step back, physically distancing herself from the young king.

  “We were just about to ask you the same thing,” Carlos pointed out, and the three boys just looked at her expectantly. Evie swallowed slightly and tried her best to show only confidence.

  “Oh… I’m just going to the, uh… Waffle Hut,” Evie informed them easily, showcasing all of those pearly whites in a manner that was more guilty than casual.

  “Ah, okay. But why are you dressed in Isle clothes?” Jay asked with a knowing expression, and Evie scanned her mind quickly for a good response despite the fact that she knew there were no options.

  “Because I was missing M, so I thought I’d dress up in my Isle clothes to remind me of her and our dearly departed birthplace,” Evie responded, and she almost winced as she realized that it didn’t sound nearly as great as it had in her mind.

  The boys just narrowed their eyes at her, and she knew that she had been officially caught. There was no way that she was going to get out of this without telling them the truth. And it was a true shame because she certainly didn’t want them to feel as if they had to go with her.

  “Are you going back to the Isle, Evie?” Ben questioned, and Evie looked to the boy with a slight sigh, staring at him for a long time. However, after a moment, she finally offered him just the barest of nods.

  “Yes, Ben. I am,” she admitted, and they all looked much more determined than they had before as they started to shift about, getting ready to head out.

  “Alright, give us a sec. We’ll go get our clothes, and---”

  “No,” Evie immediately interrupted, keeping them from continuing, and all three of them froze to listen to her words. Evie’s eyes softened a bit as she gazed at them, and she made sure her voice came out a bit gentler with her next words. “No. You can’t come with me, guys.”

  “Sure, we can. You’re going to get her from the Isle, right? So, we’re coming with you,” Jay resolvedly told her, looking to Carlos as the shorter boy quickly agreed with him. Evie shook her head, gazing at them all regretfully.

  “Guys, I’m not going to get her,” Evie expressed, and they all once again paused to heed and understand her words.

  “What do you mean?” Ben asked, staring at her, those green-brown eyes shining with something terribly pained. She knew that he knew what she was truly doing. Jay and Carlos had known Evie for longer, but sometimes Ben truly was a kindred spirit to Evie and too much like her for her own good.

  “I’m going over there to the Isle… to stay with her,” Evie expressed, and her two brothers shared a pained glance. For his part, Ben just looked resigned as he sighed deeply, the beginnings of tears in his eyes as he tried to keep them at bay.

  “We’ll go with you anyway,” Jay volunteered, and Carlos nodded, backing the former thief in his verdict. Evie held up a hand, shaking her head as she held back her own tears.

  “No. No, you two can’t come with me,” Evie firmly said, the words almost physically painful to tell them. Evie swallowed hard as she allowed the barest of smiles onto her face. “I love you two. And you have the beginnings of such a beautiful life here. You’re happy, despite your feelings as of late. Going to the Isle’s not going to make you happy.”

  “It’s not going to make you happy either, Eves,” Carlos pointed out, and Evie just gazed at him sadly.

  “No, but staying here any longer is pure torture for me. I love Mal so much, and I really think that she’s just as unhappy as me right now,” Evie explained to the group carefully, knowing that they wouldn’t understand as fully as she hoped.

  “So, you should get her,” Jay told her, and Evie just sighed.

  “You know I can’t make Mal do anything she doesn’t want to do.”

  “But you just said she’s unhappy?” Carlos questioned in confusion.

  “She is. She’s unhappy altogether, and me coming to her will make her happy enough to distract her from that entire unhappiness. But not for long enough that she’ll never come back. I’m basically going to just have to wait her out,” Evie expressed simply, shrugging slightly as she felt a fond smile curling at the edge of her lips. Mal always was terribly stubborn.

  “Just how long are we talking here?” Jay asked, raising a pointed finger at the bluenette.

  “Yeah, you sound like you’re going to be gone for a… a really long time,” Carlos chuckled a bit, and Evie just looked at him, communicating her meaning wordlessly. Carlos suddenly lost all semblances of even a slight smile as he stepped back a bit, bumping into Jay’s shoulder. Jay held up a hand, keeping the boy from stepping too far back.

  “I’ll take as long as it takes for Mal to decide that she’s ready to come back,” Evie told them all solemnly, and Ben shook his head carefully, swallowing as he drew his lips into a thin line.

  “I thought you might do something like this. That’s why I called Jay and Carlos out here,” Ben explained with a wet laugh, and Evie couldn’t help but smile a bit at the sweet boy, knowing that he was fighting a losing battle in holding back his urge to cry. Evie reached out, squeezing his arm quickly in an attempt to make him feel a bit better.

  She then looked at her brothers sadly, waiting to see what they would say. Jay stood there working his jaw for a long time, and Carlos was looking down at his shoes in a manner that resembled a kicked puppy.

  However, once a few beats had passed, Carlos shifted his gaze to Evie with a slight smile.

  “I get it. I do. And I hope you come back with her soon,” Carlos expressed, and Evie felt her heart partially heal as she then looked at her older brother, hoping for his response.

  And after what felt like an eternity, Jay at long last looked back up at her.

  “You didn’t forget your lip gloss, did you?” Jay questioned finally, trying to joke but most of its effect disappearing as a result of his forlorn expression. Evie laughed, maybe a few sobs escaping from her as well as she came over to hug the two boys with all that she had.

  She wrapped her left arm around the back of Jay’s neck and her right arm around the back of Carlos’s as she pulled them both near. They both reciprocated her embrace just as tightly as she had wrapped them in it, clutching at her as if she were their lifeline.

  “We love you, Eves,” Carlos expressed, and Evie nodded quickly, trying to pull herself together so she could actually leave on schedule before the security guard came around this way on his route that she had spent all week memorizing.

  “I love you guys, too. So, so much,” Evie whispered in return, feeling a few tears escape her against her will as she sniffled hard.

  She stood there hugging them both for a long time, the three just rocking in their embrace as they held each other tightly.

  After a great amount of time had passed, Evie finally very gradually and slowly released them from her hold. Evie raised her hands to cradle their cheeks and touched both of their foreheads with her own in turn before stepping back, letting her hands slip from them.

  The boys just gazed at her sadly as they watched their sister head over to Ben.

  She hugged the boy for a few moments, not nearly as long as she had the two boys, and she looked him in the eyes somewhat sadly. Ben had already lost a bit in his battle with tears, and she felt a deep pang of sadness for the boy.

  “Bring her back?” Ben asked somewhat brokenly, and Evie nodded, giving his face a onceover that could only be described as purely motherly before she returned her gaze to his own.

  “As soon as she’ll let me,” Evie responded softly, a slight smile coming onto her face, and Ben nodded to her once, stepping back from her as he allowed her room to get to the limo.

  Carlos wasted no time in opening the front door of the limo, and Evie whispered her thanks as she started to get into the car. She was just about to pull it closed when Jay grabbed her arm quickly. She locked eyes with him, and he chewed the inside of his cheek.

  “Be safe. Okay?” Jay advised, and Evie nodded an affirmation. He smiled somewhat grimly before shutting the limo door.

  Evie reached for the keys, cranking the vehicle, and she looked out the tinted window at the three boys. They were all just standing there together, watching her get ready to leave. Evie looked at them sadly and slowly put the vehicle into gear, driving it out of the castle.

  She didn’t look back. She couldn’t. She knew if she looked back, she’d be too tempted to return and cry all over the three, clinging to them and refusing to let go.

  So, Evie took a deep breath, her gloved hands clutching at the steering wheel as she gazed ahead with determination, her thoughts centered on her purple-haired best friend.

  “I’m on my way, M.”

#evie #mal #bal #core four #jay #carlos #descendants #d3 #d2 #descendants 3 #descendants 2 #descendants mal #descendants evie #descendants jay #descendants carlos #carlos de vil #mal bertha #evie queen #evie grimhilde #ben florian #ben #descendants ben #descendants fanfiction #fanfic #fic #angst #friendship #platonic #bevie #ben x evie

[witandnargles]

Around and Around We Go

Summary: After the reader almost gets Sam killed on a hunt, the immense guilt they feel begins to overwhelm them. But is there a light in the darkness?

Pairing: Sam Winchester x reader

Word Count: 1,139

A/N: This is my first Sam x reader fic I’ve posted, so I hope you guys like it. It’s sort of inspired by the song “Stay” by Rihanna (it was stuck in my head while I was writing this) as well as my own personal struggles. I think everyone feels like they’re not good enough sometimes, and I hope that anyone who may be feeling this way can realize that they are worthy of love and happiness.

“Where’s y/n?” Dean asked.

“Hiding,” Sam replied with a note of disappointment in his voice.

You would always do this when things got bad. Ever since you could remember, whenever you would become overwhelmed with the world or tragedy would strike, you would simply disappear for a little while. 

As stubborn as you were, there was no convincing you to face the issue until you were ready, and, at this moment, you definitely were not. The lights were off in your room, and, if anyone were to open the door, they would have to look closely to discern your huddled form from the pillows and blankets that surrounded you on the bed.

It was all you fault. Sam had almost died because of your carelessness, your temporary hubris. 

Of course, he didn’t blame you. You knew that; he never did. But he should because this was more than just a misstep. This was a palpable choice, a selfish desire to be the hero. The worst part was that you hadn’t made this sort of mistake in years, not since you’d first begun hunting.

You could easily have blamed the new hunter you were working with. He was terrible, always making jokes at your expense and making the evil little creature in your head that loved to hurt you perk up at his taunting. But you couldn’t blame him. You were old enough now to know better, to act with knowledge instead of brash feeling. Maybe you weren’t as mature as you thought.

None of that mattered, anyhow. What mattered was the truth: your best friend had almost died because of you. 

All you wanted to do in this moment was stay in your room, your private seclusion from the outside world, forever. Here, you couldn’t hurt anyone. Here, nothing bad could happen. Nothing good could happen either, but that was a small sacrifice to make to ensure the safety of the people you loved most dearly.  

Why did you think you could do this? You were always screwing up in one way or another, and your family had to pay the price. Unknowingly, you’d enticed them into your web of friendship, and now, they were too tightly wound to break free. Your love and good intentions drew a mask over their eyes, so that they couldn’t see the truth of what you really were. 

Burden. The word ran through your head in a blur, wrapping its way around every thought, every emotion you had or would experience. It framed your state of mind and made you doubt your own intentions. Who were you to think you could have friends, a family, people who loved you? Who were you to think you were good enough for them, that their hearts and lives could be safe in your hands? 

Tears streaked like rivers down your face as you cried. You didn’t want to live in a world without your best friend, without this wonderful family you’d been a part of for the last decade. 

So lost in your helpless thoughts, you barely heard the gentle knock on your bedroom door. You turned over, not wanting whoever it was to see your tear-streaked face and puffy, red eyes if they walked in.

“Y/n?” the person on the other side of the door said softly. Sam. Of course, he was the one to try and speak to you. He seemed to always be the person who could talk you off of the ledge. You hated that you always put him in this position.

Selfish. This was another word that ran intricate laps through your mind.

“Can I come in for a minute? I just want to talk. You don’t even have to say anything back.” He waited a moment, then opened your door.

You decided to be brave and turned around.

“Don’t turn on the light,” you said, voice weak from crying.

Sam nodded and sat down on your bed, looking at your pathetic frame with sadness and sympathy in his eyes.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you admitted.

“Yes, you can. You just—” 

“No,” you interrupted, a little more forceful than you meant. 

“No,” you said, softer this time. “I mean, I can’t keep letting you do this for me. Every time I break down, you’re right there to pick up the pieces, and I can’t . . .” You trailed off. You were having a difficult time keeping your tears at bay. “I can’t just keep being another mess you have to clean up. You don’t deserve that. You deserve better. You deserve to be happy and have friends and family that lift you up from the dark parts of the world. And I don’t know . . . No, I do know that I can’t be that for you all the time. I try, but I just can’t. And you deserve so much better, Sam.”

Sam sat through your entire speech, not saying a word.

“You know, I don’t expect you to be happy all the time,” he said. “It’s okay if you’re not. None of us are. But that doesn’t mean you have to hide from me, and I think you know that.”

“I—” you started.

“No, just listen. Please. You’re not a burden to me, y/n. You never were and you never will be. I don’t mind being there when you feel like this because I know what it feels like to hurt, to feel like you’re not good enough, and I know who you are.

“I can’t tell you the number of times you’ve been there for me when I’ve felt like this. This isn’t any different. That’s part of being a friend. We lean on each other when things get bad.”

“I almost got you killed.” You spoke so quietly that he wouldn’t have heard you if there were any other noise in the room.

“That wasn’t your fault.”

“No, it was. I made the stupid choice, not the smart one because I was upset.” You shook your head, angry with yourself. “I’m so sorry,” you said, voice laced with remorse of the highest form.

“Then, I forgive you,” Sam replied. His sincere eyes told you that he understood, and that was all you needed to see. “Come here.” He held his arms out for you, and you melted into his chest. His warmth and heartbeat reminded you of the most important truth: Sam was alive and okay. 

What had happened wasn’t alright, but things were starting to get back on track. You let out a deep breath, and were surprised to notice that you felt a little lighter after the action. You were making it up to him, and your relationship, which seemed so fragile and broken before, was mending right before your eyes. You couldn’t have been more grateful if you tried.

#supernatural #myposts #spn fanfic #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester fanfiction #Sam Winchester

[askanxioussquip]

~Thursday Evening~

Marina was nervous. In about an hour she would be going over to Jean and Meredith’s house for dinner, but she couldn't decide what to wear or how to act or what to say. She hadn't been over to someone’s home in a very long time. Meredith seemed like a pretty chill girl, one she would be able to feel comfortable in casual wear around. Jean on the other hand, he seemed more formal. “Dear god, I cant keep staring at these outfits till its time to leave! Cmon.. oh, screw it. Casual it is. Not like i have anything good enough to be considered formal..” She sighed and put on something simple, getting her things ready early. Before she knew it, it was time to leave. Only having an old hoverboard made travel very hard, and she knew she’d need to get a bike or something soon. She would even settle for a manual bike.

Soon she had left her part of town and entered the more technology-focused areas, still in awe of the skyscrapers and sculptures. The whole city was bathed in a neon light that could compete with the sun. Marina always took the time to appreciate her surroundings, and just enjoy being alive. It helped calm her nerves most of the time. The ride had been slow and long but eventually, she made her way to their house, now heading up to the path to the door. She had to admit, she expected the house to be much bigger than it was. Though, it was still decently sized. Two stories and what looked like a large backyard. Probably had a living room and a family room. Maybe a nice basement. Leaves fell at her feet as she passed under a large maple tree. Oh yeah, it was definitely autumn. Out here in the more rural areas, autumn was much more enjoyable. As she reached the house, the door opened to reveal an excited looking Meredith before she even stepped up onto the front porch.

“Jean, Marina is here!!” Meredith grabbed her hand and pulled her inside, a big smile on her face. “Welcome! Oh boy, I'm so happy to spend some time with you. This is so exciting!”

Marina couldn't help but smile back. Meredith was starting to feel like the little sister she never knew she had. “Well, I'm very happy to be here. It’s good to see you again!” “Cmon, cmon!” She pulled on her hand again and lead her down the hallway into the dining room. Some food was already set out on the table, and Jean was bringing in the rest from the kitchen. “Oh, Welcome! Sorry I wasn't at the door, I was finishing up in the kitchen.” The warm smile he gave her immediately made her feel at home. How could these two make her feel so welcome and wanted with one visit? She couldn't understand it. “That's alright. Wow, this looks so good.. I don't think I've had anything like this in a long time.” “I do hope you enjoy it, then. I know the situation you and Meredith met in wasn't exactly the best, so I hope tonight can make up for that. Please, sit. I'll be right back.” He disappeared into the kitchen, and Meredith lead her over to the table to sit. It took her a moment to realize why Mer didn't have a plate in front of her.

“Oh, you don't eat, do you. I honestly forgot you were an android for a second there.” Meredith shrugged. “Sometimes Jean does too. And he made me this body! I make for a convincing human, huh? I feel like one.” “Yeah. Im glad we met, Meredith.” “Me too!” Jean came back with a few rolls after a moment, setting them on the table. “There we go. Help yourself!”

He sat down, and their dinner had officially begun. The gentle crackling of the fireplace made for a wonderful environment, one that made Marina feel even more at home. Everything about the house was warm and inviting and so much better than her tiny apartment. Everything about Jean was warm and inviting. She found herself enjoying their company more than she thought she would.

As the evening went on and they had finished eating, the conversation shifted to money. “So, Marina. Meredith told me about your situation.” “Right..” She began to feel nervous. Did he think she just wanted money? Did he think she was selfish?? Would he kick her out??? Would he-

“If you'd let me, i'd love to help. At least get you into a better living space until you find a job. Now that we know each other, I don't think id be okay with letting you continue to live like you have been when im able to help. And, I do have an idea for a job. If you’d like. Im looking for an assistant, and you seem very good at handling robotics and coding.” Marina almost looked shocked. “I- Oh, that would be- That would be wonderful! I- Are you sure? I mean, you’re not worried or anything? You trust me?”

“You helped Meredith, and she trusts you.” Meredith nodded, looking up at her. “I know you don't mean any harm. You’re… well, you’re family.” Marina looked between the two, her eyes beginning to prick with tears. She quickly excused herself and disappeared down the hall to find the bathroom. Meredith and Jean looked at each other, concerned. “Should...Should I go after her?” Meredith got out of her chair but Jean held a hand up. “No, no. Give her a minute. This is probably a lot to take in.” She sat back down. “Yeah… do you think it's because i said she was family? Maybe that's a touchy subject... I didn't mean to upset her..” “Hey. you’re doing great, Meredith. You’re doing so well.” He held her hand from across the table. She gave a shy smile. “Thank you.. I'm just worried about her. I want her to be happy.” Marina had to admit, she was a bit overwhelmed. Suddenly she had two new people in her life that considered her family, wanted to help her, maybe even be closer to her... It was a lot. But that wasn't why she was blinking away tears in the middle of their bathroom. No, it was because she had never met anyone who cared about her so much so quickly before. She felt loved, and it was so new and exciting and almost nostalgic all at the same time. She hadn't felt this happy since she was a child.

It was certainly embarrassing to walk back to the table, but she was welcomed back with just as much warmth as before, and it was like she’d never even left. The evening went on with stories and some little games Meredith came up with, comfortable silence by the fire, and watching the leaves fall from the porch before she had to leave. To be honest, no one wanted Marina to leave. Not even Marina! But it was beginning to grow dark, and she needed to make her way home before it was truly night.

So, with a reluctant goodbye, Marina headed home with a full stomach and a seed of love to sow with her newfound family.

#wholesome shit #welcome to the family marina #we love us some good fluff

[cruciatuscurse]

Sweet Pea’s Girl

Rating: All

Warnings: None

Pairing: Sweet Pea/OC

Summary: Change is inevitable. What does it mean for their relationship?

A love is never quite as deep as first love. The love that forms naturally over time, maybe discovered from the first blush or busy heartbeat, like snow on winter’s breath, is usually the most memorable and kept closest to the heart. It’s also the one that cuts the deepest when it’s all over.

They knew her as Pea’s girl, even if she wasn’t always. But that never sounded quite right. The angry giant, full of rage and testosterone, with his arm slung around this cute thing. But that wasn’t quite right either. She was dazzling, but more for what was in her head than what she wore on it.

They were friends from elementary school, but somewhere between puberty and high school it turned into something more; something right.

They never agreed on anything. It was hard for outsiders to see how they got together in the first place, but the ones closest to them saw it. The undying loyalty, the love in their eyes behind every sour remark. They were navigating something beautiful, something new, in the only way they knew how.

When she heard the taps against the window, her heart raced. She slid from beneath her comforter and pulled the window open, looking at the grinning boy on the other side. He didn’t even have the decency to be bashful.

“Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair!” He loudly whispered, making her giggle.

“What are you doing here, Pea?” She looked at him expectantly.

“I was in the neighborhood,” he shrugged, hands slipping into his jacket. “Thought I’d come by, maybe borrow some sugar.”

She laughed, then, and it made him laugh too.

Watching his tall frame climb through the window was a scene she dedicated to her memory, only wishing she caught it on tape. He joined her in her bed and he didn’t even have the decency to look bashful about it.

They didn’t talk for a moment, simply enjoying the warmth of a body next to their own. Their eyes were fixed on her ceiling, even if there was nothing there but chipped paint and sleepless nights. Slowly, their hands found a way together.

“It’s about time you go steady with me,” he stated, glancing over at her and watching the coy smile make its way onto her face.

“Maybe,” she agreed.

He smiled. “Maybe.”

It was the same window, the same ledge, that greeted the two lovers for many more nights. He always found a way to her and she could never deny that smirk. In the darkness, they found a place called love.

But the thing about adolescence is that it’s always changing. It can be the hardest time of your life, trying to figure out who you are and who you want to be, and it can eat you alive. They always talk about growing pains, but they never talk about the ones in your heart.

A strain was on their relationship. Her mind was shrouded in doubt. As the end of high school was rapidly approaching, and real life beginning, she found it harder and harder to fit her and Sweet Pea together. But he was hers and she was his and that’s how it’s always been; what else was there?

“It’s over, Pea. A girl’s gotta live her life. It’s been fun while it’s lasted, but I’m done.” The words were bitter and hard to swallow, following another argument over who could remember what.

“What?” For once in his life, Sweet Pea looked unsure of himself.

“You heard me. I’m done.” Emboldened, she stood up to him with eyes that sought a challenge.

“Don’t be an idiot,” he scoffed. When she didn’t answer, continuing to stare at him with her arms crossed, his face hardened. “You’re serious about this, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.” She swallowed down the lump forming in her throat. “I am.”

“Whatever. I’ll give you time to cool off.” He pushed his chair away from him, hard, making the legs squeal against the floor. He wouldn’t let her see him so vulnerable, not when she was the cause.

“Take all the time you need, cause I’m not wasting another second near you.” Her chair joined his as they went in opposite directions, drawing twin looks of confusion and concern from their nearby friends.

That night, she was wide awake for longer than she cared to admit. Even though she was the one to break things off, she still felt a pang in her chest when he didn’t try to come through her window. It was selfish to want him anyway, but she couldn’t help it. The forecast for that night was a thunderstorm.

News traveled fast. Everyone had assumed they’d be together forever, but life seemed to have other plans. Sweet Pea kept his distance, at first. He knew her better than anyone else; when she maintained a mask of disinterest, he knew how to read behind it. But he still had to make sure she was okay, in his own way.

“I still don’t see why you don’t just talk to her yourself,” Toni said, rolling her eyes as her friend scoffed.

“She doesn’t want to see me. I can’t say I blame her. She’s my first everything, alright? I’ve had to learn all this…relationship stuff on my own. I mess up a lot.”

“Yeah, but so did she.” Toni put a hand on his shoulder. “Why don’t you talk to her about it? She’s scared, whether she wants to admit it or not, and so are you. Yes, love is a beautiful, amazing thing but you’ve got to put effort behind it. When life hits you hard, you gotta hit back harder.”

Sweet Pea raised an eyebrow. “Since when were you a therapist, Topaz?”

“Shut up.”

She avoided his texts and calls, and it only made him angrier. He was fighting a lot, getting more involved in business, and his absence from school worried her. She was always the one that kept him grounded but now it seemed like he was letting loose.

Still, she avoided him like the plague. What was left to say? He wasn’t her responsibility anymore.

When he finally saw her again, a few months had passed. She was out with friends and she looked great, vibrant. Her smile brightened up the room. She hadn’t been dating anyone, for that he was sure. He would’ve knocked the teeth out of anyone who tried. They might have not been together, but she was still his girl.

He saw her, quarters in hand, looking through the song list at the jukebox, when he approached. “Hey.”

She turned around, and when their eyes met, her heart did a somersault. “Hey.”

He shoved a hand in his jacket pocket. “How’ve you been?”

“I’m okay.” The quarters in her hand jingled as her fingers twitched. “And you? I’d say I hope you’re staying out of trouble, but I know how trouble likes to find you.”

He grinned. “Guilty. I keep my head above the water, though. You’re looking real good, but I know you know that.”

She couldn’t help the grin on her face or the blush in her cheeks. “Do I?”

He nodded. “Yeah, you do. I know you like the way I look at you. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you wanted me to find you.”

“I did no such thing,” she gently chided him. “But it is good to see you.”

She picked a song then, at random, and the sound of Elvis crooning came through the speakers.

“Well, if you’re feeling lonely tonight, just give me a call,” he said, turning around.

“Hey, Pea.” She hugged him from behind, hearing the steady beat of his heart in her ears. “It was good to see you.”

“Take care of yourself, doll.”

She couldn’t stop thinking about him that night, even after he left with his friends and hers had grilled her, even after she had a few drinks and accepted a few dances, even after she walked home and hid herself away in her blankets because it was how she coped best.

But, like clockwork, she heard a tapping at her window.

When she looked out, she giggled at the sight of Sweet Pea holding a few flowers.

“Really, you think those pathetic things are going to win me over?” She teased.

“They should,” he argued with a smile. “They’re from your mother’s garden.”

“Sweet Pea!”

She watched him climb through her window, her heart beating faster with his every movement. She took it all in, their eyes on one another, before they were embracing and I love you’s were being tossed out like fireworks after the Fourth of July.

He led her into her bed, just like he always did, and she drowned underneath a tidal wave of her tears. He wiped them away diligently, patiently, brushing her hair back and pulling her onto shore.

“I’m sorry,” she began, breathlessly.

“Me too.”

“No, I mean it. I’m sorry for the past three months. I shouldn’t have put either of us through this. I don’t..this is our first real relationship, and sometimes it just gets too big and overwhelming. We’ve changed so much in the past few years. Where are we going to go from here?”

He kissed her forehead. “I’m not going anywhere, baby. I’m gonna be right by your side no matter what.”

“But what if we change? What if we outgrow each other? What if we start to hate each other?” The panic rose in her voice. “I don’t want to be like our parents.”

“We won’t. Hell no we won’t. We choose what we do, and right now, I choose you,” he stated, looking into her sad eyes. “You’re the first girl I’ve ever felt this way about. The only girl I’ve ever felt this way about. Sure there’s pretty girls around, but I don’t want just another girl. I want you. The girl who got gum in her hair cause I didn’t know another way to get her attention.” He smiled when that made her laugh, before continuing. “The girl that keeps me out of trouble and looks out for me. The girl that I fell in love with, the one I wanna marry someday. That’s the only girl I want to be with.”

“She sounds amazing,” she teased softly, trying to hide her red cheeks as he kissed the top of her head.

“She is. She’s the most amazing girl I know. Sure, we don’t have a bunch of good examples of love around us, but so what? We can be the example ourselves. I just know that I’m not going to let you walk out of my life again.”

“I’ll follow you anywhere, Sweet Pea.”

He saw it, then, that fire in her eyes that he’d missed. The way she kissed him, the way their bodies fit together perfectly, the way her hands touched his. It wasn’t going to be easy, but it was going to be worthwhile. He’d found a crazy little thing called love, and he wasn’t going to lose it again.

#riverdale imagines #sweet pea #sweet pea imagines #riverdale fic #character based on last aesthetic post #rainy day writing

[the-purple-martin]

Chapters: 19/? Fandom: Fallout 4, Fallout (Video Games) Rating: Mature Warnings: Rape/Non-Con Relationships: Paladin Danse/Female Sole Survivor, Paladin Danse/Sole Survivor, Arthur Maxson & Female Sole Survivor, Arthur Maxson/Sole Survivor (one-sided) Characters: Paladin Danse, Female Sole Survivor, Arthur Maxson, Scribe Haylen Additional Tags: Post-Blind Betrayal, Hurt/Comfort, Trauma, Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Strong Language, Violence, vengeance, Rape/Non-con Elements, Angst, No Fluff, Mental Health Issues, Sexual Coercion, Guilt, Ok Maybe Some Fluff, Sexual Content, Consent Issues, Canon Divergence, Modified Ending, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Redemption, just be patient

Five minutes.

That's all the time she allowed herself to waste. To crumple to the floor and succumb to the utter and all-consuming panic.  Her hands clutched at her ribs, nails digging into her sides as she heaved and screamed and cried. Overwhelmed by the reality that Danse was likely already dead.

Her world blurred and the bleak walls of the bunker came crashing down on her. Pinned beneath the weight of her hysteria, she retched and choked on bile. For a fleeting, desperate moment, she entertained the idea of breathing in and letting herself asphyxiate on the filth in her mouth.

Breathe, just breathe.

Her mind eased her racing thoughts. Slowly the room stilled and she was left a pathetic mess, weeping on the floor and drowning in self-loathing. This was selfish, a waste of time and above all else, it was not about her.

With the reminder that Danse’s life was dependent on every second she wasted, Jackie pushed herself to her feet and urged her limbs to stumble through the irrational haze. She staggered across the room, aimlessly groping for a plan, and dragged a dirty sleeve across her face. Except it only furthered her dilapidated state by smudging her cheeks with grime.

Don’t forget to breathe. Mindful breaths.

It had been years since Jackie had struggled with anxiety so intense that it triggered panic attacks. But waking up in that goddamn vault had brought about a new kind of hell for her mind to wander in.  Often in the months before joining the Brotherhood, she had found herself pressed into a dark corner, stricken with fear, unable to move or breathe or think.  Terrified that some horrible creature or the perversions of man that called themselves human beings would find her and she would die alone and forgotten in this shithole.

Once she started traveling with Danse, she had been able to keep her anxieties at bay for a time. He reminded her of Nate and despite the heartache it brought her, Jackie didn’t feel so vulnerable in Danse’s presence. A sense of normalcy had begun to return and with each passing day she reclaimed a piece of her sanity.

As much as she tried, she couldn’t keep her demons stuffed away forever though. On a frostbitten night in midwinter, they had stopped to set up camp, hunkering down in a crumbling building for the evening. That night, Jackie had awoken in a panic. She’d jolted awake, cold sweat trickling down her back, convinced that this was the end.

“Danse?” she called out to him, hearing only faint rustling from somewhere beyond the shadows in return. She clenched her sleeping bag in her hands, her heart hammering away in her chest. “Danse!” again she cried his name only for the rustling to crescendo into horrid hissing and screeching.

She desperately groped around for her weapon, her Pip-Boy, anything to help fend off whatever was lurking in the darkness, except she came up empty handed. This was it. She was going to die, torn apart by some wretched wasteland creature, feasting on her innards as she screamed in vain.

Suddenly loud crashing and the sounds of grinding metal filled the air.

“Soldier?”  It came out forceful and frantic as Danse clanked through the room, “What is it? What’s the matter?”

“I don’t know!” Jackie panted, unable to catch her breath, “I don’t know!  I can’t breathe!”  The panic threatened to strangle her and she shook with the pounding of her heart. “Something’s wrong!”

Unable to control her racing thoughts, Jackie was convinced she would hyperventilate, or at the very least, die of embarrassment. She pressed her face into her hands, attempting to conceal her shameful state and regain some semblance of control.

“You’re alright.”  

She nearly leapt out of her skin at Danse’s hand on her shoulder and his voice in her ear. So consumed by her irrational fear, she hadn’t even heard him exit his power armor. It stood a menacing stance at the edge of the shadows and Danse... Danse was so near that Jackie was suddenly overwhelmed by all the emotions she’d been trying so hard to bury since leaving the vault. All the pain and heartache, her insurmountable grief, leaked from the little box she’d haphazardly stuffed them away in.

“It’s not real, you’re safe. It’ll pass, just breathe.”

Danse had taken a knee beside her and his grip, firm on her shoulder, moored her to reality. At least until she met his gaze and those heartbreakingly familiar brown eyes shattered her sanity. It took everything in her not to clamber into his arms and weep away her troubles. Instead Jackie clutched at his uniform and squeezed her eyes shut to block out the haunting reminder and hold back the tears caught just behind her lids.

Nate...she missed him so goddamn much it hurt. But Danse...right now, Danse would have to do. She let his soft, calming words sooth her aching heart and slowly the panic subsided. Left with only an echo, Jackie’s hands fall into her lap. Broken and hollow, she grasped at the ghosts of her former life splintering in the parallels of her mind.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered and pawed at her face, wiping at tears or the flush of shame she didn’t know.

“This is common among soldiers.” His hand lingered on her shoulder, a gentle reminder that despite her madness Danse still had her back. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Jackie just stared at her hands. There was sadness in Danse’s voice, a resonance of understanding that made her wonder about his own mental state. She wasn’t blind. She’d seen how he struggled. How he kept himself endlessly busy, avoiding sleep or rest so he didn’t have to confront his demons. Danse carried the weight of the wasteland on his shoulders and clearly he cared about her. He was a tough nut to crack, but underneath it all he was kind: a good man.

All Jackie had done since enlisting was repay his kindness in cruelty. She had been insubordinate at best and nothing short of a cold-hearted bitch at worst.

“I haven’t treated you fairly,” she admitted, “I’ve been angry and so caught up in myself. You...” she nervously wrung her hands together as she trailed off. “You were an easy target.”

Danse shifted to lean his elbow on his knee. “Sometimes trauma makes us do things we aren’t proud of.”

“Doesn’t give me the right to be nasty.” She glanced over at him and was met with the faintest of smiles.

“Is that an apology I hear, soldier?”  

“I-ah…,” she tittered to herself, “yeah, I suppose it is.”

Danse continued to grin and he knocked his shoulder against hers, "I appreciate the sentiment.”

She leaned into him, wishing he could give her so much more than just fleeting touches. “Thanks,” she muttered and pulled away before her emotions got the better of her again. “I can take watch if you want.”

“Negative,” his fingers brushed against her shoulder as he stood to retreat back to his armor, waiting until he was safely encased inside before continuing, “but you can sit with me if you’d like.”

Jackie’s chest ached thinking about that moment. What if she never saw Danse alive again? The realization halted her advance across the room. Danse…he was the only thing worth fighting for in this world, the only thing that kept her breathing. He was her lifeblood and if he died at the hands of the Brotherhood for her foolish, selfish mistakes, they might as well kill her too.

This was her fault. She should have done more, fought harder, told Maxson where could shove it and walked away. Should have run and never looked back. Taken Danse somewhere far away. Somewhere near the sea where they could watch the sunrise and hear the waves crashing upon the sand. Leave it all behind and allow the Commonwealth fall to its own demises. But Jackie had been broken. Gutted and left to bleed, too scared to retaliate or flee and worse, too afraid to say no. Now she would atone for her sins in fear and blood.

The cycle of panic threatened to repeat itself but someone had once told her that, ‘courage was not the absence of fear, rather the knowledge that something else was more important than fear.’ Danse was more important than her irrational mind. If she had any hope of saving him, she needed to take action.

Fear still rattled her bones, scratching at her skill like the parasite it was, but Jackie pushed herself forward. She forced her feet to carry her across the room to where she had dumped her duffle bag the night before. Hastily she stripped of her soiled clothes and plucked a clean uniform from her pack, dressing with little regard to her personal appearance.  

Unkempt and unhinged, it would have to do. She would have to do.

With a sigh and a final glance around the room she jabbed the elevator call button, pacing and trying to formulate a plan while she waited for its decent. A plan that didn’t involve her solo assault of the Brotherhood stronghold or the very real possibility that she would be forced to murder their Elder.

Shit.

Jackie stumbled to a stop, staggered by the consequences of Danse’s actions. If she wanted him to come out of this alive, she was going to have to bring down the Brotherhood -- alone. If by some stroke of dumb luck she was successful, then what? The Commonwealth would crumble at the sudden power vacuum.

Dammit Danse!

The door to the elevator clanged open and Jackie was left standing there, messaging her forehead between her fingers. She didn’t know what the hell she was going to do but she slung her duffle bag over her shoulder and snatched up her rifle nonetheless.  She would make it up as she went and hope to whatever gods were still listening that they didn’t end up dead.

The elevator made an agonizingly slow ascent to the surface and Jackie prayed that she was wrong. She hoped that Danse had just gone to patrol the perimeter or ventured to a nearby settlement for supplies and he would be waiting for her in the vestibule of the bunker. If only she could be so lucky.

When the elevator finally rattled to a halt, Jackie was greeted with darkness. Quiet and empty, midsummer twilight hung in the sky beyond the open door. Her heart skipped a stuttering beat at the sight. This was good. In the cover of night and concealed in her armor, perhaps Danse was still alive. Kept safe in the guise of a much-coveted Brotherhood paladin set on a warpath to bring them to their knees, burn them to the ground for betraying not only himself but the woman he had devote his life to.

The irony nearly had her smirking, except she was reminded that they were likely both going to wind up dead before this was all over.  

Jackie made her way out into the desolate wasteland and rooted around in her bag, searching for the signal grenade she had stashed away in case of emergency. The sun pushed the envelope of dawn painting the skyline in faint wisps of pink and orange. It lazily eclipsed the deep blues and black of night as she walked out into the open, heading east to the unofficial extraction point.

It was the quiet of the wasteland that unnerved Jackie as she walked. Here silence didn’t necessarily mean safety and she had spent the entirety of her life before the war surrounded by constant background noise.  The world never stopped, even in the dead of night, there was never true silence. Now her surroundings were deceptively quiet, peaceful even, and it unsettled her.

It didn’t take long to reach the designated location, a vacant stretch of broken road behind the old ironworks factory. She threw down the signal grenade and watched as the plume of smoke circled up into the air. Not so patiently she waited for the distant hum of the vertibird’s engines to break the silence.

The sun breached the horizon and with it brought the feeling of failure. Not once had she bothered to check in with Danse last night to assess his own mental state. His deteriorating physical health had been an obvious sign of his instability, yet Jackie had failed to acknowledge it. Instead, she burdened him with her insignificant troubles. She’d neglected to reciprocate his kindness and allow him to voice the complexities and emotionality of his internal conflict, and look where it had gotten her.

She had promised to be there for him, help him heal, and secretly she had vowed to love him. Then in the face of hardship, she’d abandoned him. Jackie couldn’t breathe and before she could stop it, tears were leaking down her cheeks. She had betrayed him when he had needed her the most.

The crippling intensity of her guilt sliced at her underbelly, threatening to tear her open and spill her guts upon the pavement. It would have been better, easier for them both, if she had just endured the pain of letting Danse go. Allowed him to move on and live out his days in peace. After everything he’d been though, he at least deserved that much. In the end, Jackie had let her self-serving desires get the better of her. Now, it no longer mattered, she would be forced to pay it forward, with her life and his.

The ground groaned beneath her feet as she paced in an attempt to occupy her mind and halt the hemorrhaging of her spiraling thoughts. Bile rose in her throat and she commanded her body to be still, but she lost the battle and just barely caught her knees in her hands as she retched and stumbled forward.

The pooling sick a reflection of the disease that festered within her. It disgusted her how far she had fallen, the things she had done, people she’d killed, monsters she’d made. Jackie didn’t deserve this life and she clung to the shards of humanity that still resided within her.

Her urge to vomit again was quelled just in time to hear the familiar whirl of a vertibird’s engines approaching. Earth and grass were whipped about and dirt was violently kicked up with the aircraft’s landing decent. Jackie covered her face with her arms, attempting to shield herself from the dust storm. Despite the sickening feeling that still lingered, she hoisted herself up into the ‘bird as soon as the landing gear made contact with the ground.

A familiar face, clad in aviators and arrogance, greeted her as she clambered inside. It was always the same Lancer who picked her up. The same pilot who had run transport for Danse and his team and who had taken Maxson to the bunker. He was the only one authorized for extraction from this location and even though words had never been exchanged, Jackie knew he knew and she wondered what price he had paid to keep their secret.

He handed her a headset as she scooted by to sit into the co-pilot’s seat, the roar of the engines was drown out when she slipped it on.

“Paladin,” His voice crackled through the earpiece, followed by terse nod and a salute.

“Geers.” Jackie returned the gesture out of habit.

For a moment Geers watched her, taking in her obviously disheveled state, but chose not to comment, “Ma’am, you’ve been given orders to report to the Command Deck immediately upon arrival.”

“Wonderful,” she scowled, “who did I piss on this time to be owed the pleasure?”

A knowing look passed between them before he spoke, “The Elder knows where you go when you disappear.”

Jackie said nothing and stared at her feet, the knots in her stomach twisting tighter.

Geers allowed the void of conversation stretch on before he added, “Maxson thought you weren’t coming back this time.”

And there is was, the painful reminder of her violation.

“Yeah, that was the plan...” She could feel his eyes on her, pitying her, questioning her.

“So why did you?” he dared to ask.

None of your goddamn business.

Jackie wanted to snap at him. Put him in his place and maintain the distance that was held within the chain of command, but she bit her tongue because it was rude and Geers was one of the few people she could still trust – her friend.

She twisted her hands together and mused her bottom lip. Should she tell him the truth? The truth would likely get him killed so Jackie decided on a half-truth. “There's been a recent development that requires my immediate attention back on the Prydwen.”  

Static hissed in coms while Geers watched her with a frown hovering upon his brow. “You told him about Maxson...didn’t you?” he pressed her with the demand and sharp angel of his eyes when she didn’t immediately respond. “Jackie-”

“Just take me back.” It wasn’t a request, she was done playing games. Every second she spent dicking around with Geers put Danse at risk, they needed to leave – now.  

Geers cursed under his breath and Jackie could hear the eyeroll as he turned back to jab at the instrumentation panel.

“Whiskey, golf, echo, seven, this is Lancer-Knight Geers en route to the Prywden.”

Static droned in her ears, her stomach lurching when he abruptly jerked the stick the get them in the air.

“Acknowledged, what’s your status Lancer?” the voice on the other end asked.

“I’ve got movement. Delta November inbound. Juliet Charlie,” Geers glanced over at her, looking more smug than ever, “secure. Give the order.”

More static and then finally air traffic control came back, “Roger that. You’ve been cleared for landing in bay two upon your arrival.

“Roger out.” Geers responded and flipped a switch, cutting out the static.

“What was that about?” Jackie wasn’t sure she liked what she just heard.

“You aren’t the only one with secrets.” There was that look again. Whatever Geers had been up to, he was damn proud of himself.

If Jackie didn’t know any better she would say this reeked of mutiny. “I don’t like this,” she frowned and shook her head.

“Too bad, sister. You gave up control when you climbed in my aircraft.” Geers pulled down his sunglass just enough to wink at her like some crazed junkie. “Just sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.”

God, she wanted to smack that stupid grin right off his face. Though, as much as she hated to admit it, he was right. All she could do was  close her eyes and hope that whatever half-baked plan Geers had cooked up didn’t get them all killed.

#fallout #fanfic #sacrifices #danse #paladin danse #rewrite #sole survivor #jackie #danse/f!sole #chapter 3 #the road to righteousness #my writing

[clairekatswritingcorner]

Something To Fight For

Word Count: 2,198

Summary: After spending another agonizing night as the beast, Lester awakes to find himself alone in the woods. Concerned for his safety, Alexys wanders into the wilderness to find him.

*Author’s Note*: The first of two commissions I did for @bad-blue-moon-rising! She requested a piece about her and her werewolf bf, Lester, with plenty of angst and fluff. I admit I went a little heavy with the angst in this one, but with the subject matter it was almost impossible not to. But it does have a happy ending, and I really enjoyed getting to work with some characters I’ve never written before! Consider this another one of my selfship otps <3 I hope you enjoy!

It was early morning, but the sky was still dark. As the moon began to wane, he considered how ironic his curse was, that the largest light in the night sky was the catalyst for a being that snuffed out life like a candle. In his human life Lester tried to focus on bringing people happiness, comfort, and reassurance despite their troubles. No matter how deeply they were sucked into the dark pit of hopelessness, he was there to remind them that the light of hope would always lift them out again. But in the night, when darkness distorted everything into a monstrous form and made blood run cold…he was just another slave to its influence.

He’d run into the forest, the perfect place for nighttime to warp reality into something unfamiliar, scary, and dangerous. Trees cast shadows where moonlight bled through, their trunks gnarled and twisted and creating the illusion of faces—faces that belonged to demons or ghouls. Their branches were sharp like claws, and the rustle of their leaves could be mistaken for a howl when the conditions were just right.

Lester didn’t have to pretend, though. When people thought they were seeing the face of a monster, that’s what they really saw. When people heard or felt the slash of claws, or the echo of a desperate howl in the infinite void of night, it was always genuine. Sometimes he wished he wasn’t real, that he didn’t have to be, that this aspect of his life could just be a bad dream, a cruel lie that spread like roots through soil.

But he didn’t have the luxury to say he was living a lie…at least in terms of his detestable side. He lied about that all the time, sharing his kind human side with the townsfolk and living his days like any other citizen. But the part of him that filled him with disgust and loathing, that terrified others, that was instinctual and terrifying and bloodthirsty never stopped existing.

Sometimes things were calm enough for him to forget his curse, and he’d push thoughts of it to the back of his mind. But those pleasantries all inevitably ended when the beast returned to transform him, control him, break him. He would never embrace it, never accept it, even if he was bound to it forever. It had already cost him his left eye, this feral side demonstrating just how much of a danger it posed not just to others, but to himself.

He touched the white patch that covered the wound with human fingers, almost unrecognizable to him after spending a night as the beast. Even if it wasn’t the one that had shot his eye out, such an event would likely have never occurred if he didn’t have this condition. He knew he could never forgive himself for all the atrocities committed by his hands, even if they had been carried out against his will. He knew he deserved to be branded with this badge of impurity, a physical mark that never let him forget the sins resting on his shoulders. He didn’t know how much longer he’d be able to get up every day knowing what would be coming again soon, knowing that there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Another thought, a happy thought, momentarily displaced his regret and flitted through his mind. It was an image of the woman he loved, and he could see her soft smile and gentle hands and feel her warm lips tingling on his skin as he soaked in her visage. She was always so kind to him, so accepting…too accepting. She had never once berated nor forsaken him for his deplorable side and all that came with it. She offered him words of love and reassurance and adoration that he returned wholeheartedly, but he didn’t know how she could still muster up such tender feelings for him.

He wished he was holding her right now, or being held by her. He dug his fingers into his arms, not enough to do any damage, but enough to express the dismay hanging over him. He didn’t deserve to have these feelings, or to accept hers. He didn’t deserve to take away her opportunity to have a better, unruined future, to find someone that would love her just as much as him, but without the haunting disadvantages.

His heart ached to imagine what it would be like to live without her, what it would be like to know that she was giving her love to someone else. He was too selfish, too in love with her to find any real joy in such a scenario. But if one day he happened to cross the line just a bit too far, if he snapped and committed some unforgivable act, he would have no objection to letting her go. It would hurt, it would feel like half of his heart was being ripped away, but if the decision was hers he would never even think of denying her the chance to move on to something—someone—better.

Little did he know that the focus of his affections was on her way to find him right now. Alexys had headed out just as the sun started to peek over the horizon; she had a pretty good idea of where she could find him. He’d unintentionally let that information slip to her on more than one occasion. If he wasn’t back home, he was likely somewhere in the forest at the edge of town. She’d caught sight of his footprints—or more accurately, pawprints—just as she entered the wood, following them eagerly. As she trudged through the trees she was careful not to make too much noise in the event that her sudden appearance startled him.

Before she knew it, Alexys was standing on the edge of the small clearing Lester had collapsed in. He was fully human again, and overwhelmed with agony, judging by the way he was holding himself. Her fists clenched and heart seized a bit as she examined the few scratches and cuts that were visible from where she stood; she was sure when she looked closer there would be even more. She stepped through the trees and his head whipped around at the sound, ready to flee if he’d been discovered by anyone else. But he registered her presence almost instantly, fighting between the urge to run into her arms or turn away and advise her to return home without him. She acted before he could reach a decision.

“Sweetheart, are you alright?”

It was an unnecessary question, but she wanted to know how much pain he was in, to assess whether he was in any condition to make it home without her help. He remained silent for a few moments, trying to pull himself together enough to give her a decent response. He didn’t have words strong enough to accurately describe his adoration and appreciation for her. Once again, she’d come to his rescue, drawing him back from the precipice of despair into her loving embrace.

“Lester, can you talk to me?”

She knelt beside him and he finally turned to face her. She was almost driven to tears by the desolate expression on his face, but the light that flickered to life in his eyes as he looked at her tapered it a bit. “I’m alright. I’m ready to go back if you are.”

She smiled and took one of his hands, pressing it to her lips. “Yes, of course. I didn’t want you to have to walk back alone.”

He lifted his hand away only to grab hers, pressing her palm against his cheek. “Thank you. I don’t know what I would have done if had been anybody but you that found me.”

“No need to fear, your girlfriend’s here,” Alexys teased, relieved by the way the corners of his mouth turned up just a little. “C’mon, let me help you up. It looks like some of these wounds need to be treated when we get back, too. You can even lay in my lap while I do it if you want.”

A light blush colored his features at her proposition, although he couldn’t deny the fact that he wanted to take her up on her offer. She smiled and threaded their fingers together, slipping back to the house with him as swiftly and carefully as possible. As much as Lester preferred to avoid people when he was the beast, he also didn’t like having to explain himself if he was caught making his way back home from the woods. There would no doubt be questions—he’d faced them before—but with Alexys at his side the trek always went smoothly.

Alexys was just glad to hold his hand in hers again. She appreciated the warmth and rough texture of his skin, the way his fingers gripped hers tightly in return. She was happy that he wanted her around, and even happier that he trusted her enough to share his darkest secret. Of course, it would have been particularly difficult to hide the truth from someone he lived with, but she didn’t mind knowing. She wasn’t worried or scared or intimidated by him in the slightest, instead spending her anxieties on whether he was going to make it home the next morning or not. That was part of why she’d started going out to find him. If he’d gotten hurt, or worse, she wanted to be the first person to find him and come to his aid.  

As the two approached the house Alexys took off her coat and shoes while Lester headed to the bedroom to snag a change of clothes. Before he could get his shirt on she was there, shaking her head at him as she drew his attention to the box of first aid supplies she held in her hand. Lester sighed, not because he didn’t want her help, but because he didn’t want her to have to help. But there was no deterring her when her mind was set, and it would give him the excuse to be near her and let her run her hands over his shoulders and arms and back. That kind of attention was something he needed right now, for both his physical and mental wellbeing.

He took a seat on the bed and she got situated behind him, setting her legs on either side of him so she could scoot up closer to work. There were several flinches and yelps and curses from Lester as she did her best to patch him up painlessly, but nothing could be done to avoid the process of flushing his wounds with antiseptic fluid. After she felt she’d gotten him sufficiently bandaged, she examined her handy work. She’d used as many skin colored bandages as she could in the places where his skin was usually uncovered. Luckily, the biggest ones were mostly on his back.

Alexys trailed her fingers across some of her patchwork, admiring the parts of his skin that remained unblemished. She could feel the tautness of his muscles, the warmth of his skin, the rise and fall of his shoulders as he breathed slowly, calmly. He was trying to recover from the bout of unpleasantness the treatment had caused, as well as mulling over some of the thoughts he’d had earlier. Thoughts about how she would be better off without him, thoughts about how he knew he could never bear it if he were to hurt her. But just the idea of bringing any of that up now made his stomach lurch.

“There’s something I need to tell you…” he began against his better judgement, turning his torso so he could face her. “I know you already know the risks, but every night it happens it seems to get worse. I feel like I’m losing more and more of myself. I’ll never be able to make up for the things I’ve done, the lives I’ve ruined. I don’t want yours to turn out the same—”

She hushed him by pressing a finger to his lips. Her eyes danced with ferocity and a little melancholy, but her expression communicated nothing but soft, unwavering love. “You can’t blame yourself for those things. You aren’t the one who did them. I’ll never love anyone like I love you, Lester. And I’ll face any risk that comes my way. I always have, and I always will. You’re worth fighting for.”

Although he wasn’t proud of it, tears undeniably began welling up in his eyes. Alexys kissed them away before they could fall down his cheeks. She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him deeply, and he responded in kind as he closed his eyes and pulled her against him by her waist. It was true, neither of them wanted to live their lives without the other. As they held each other close, they treasured the intimacy, trust, and love. No one else in the world would ever be able to give them feelings like this, and that was enough. Besides, having her in his life gave Lester something to fight for, too.  

#self insert #selfinsert #self ship #selfship #oc x canon #self insert fic #self insert fanfiction #selfship fic #selfship fanfiction #my writing #claire writes #one shot #bad blue moon rising #commission

[gwenore]

College Days. Chapter 5.

Chapter 5: Strickler and Jim has a talk, Strickler having started to worry about the young teenager. 

Summary; Barbara often thinks back to the last day she saw her college friend Walter. About how they went to a party together… and what happened after, something she still is not sure was real. But she is not prepared when she sees him again at the parent/teacher conference all these years later.

Jim’s  flinched as once again the thunder of the canons rang out from the school speakers in history class. Why on all days would Mr. Strickler chose this one to go though advancements in warfare in from the French revolution to today? It didn’t even really follow from last weeks lesson.

His head was thumping and aching like it had never done before. Fair enough his mom’s cooking tended to be bad... even awful... but how on earth did she manage to screw up jello? And to this degree?

It was sort of impressive in its own right. They had tasted perfectly fine... which was what made him continue to eat them. All the sudden he was feeling weird, light headed and... relaxed. Like... nothing really mattered.

Jim could not remember how long it had been since he had felt so relaxed. With everything that had been going on at home... with school... not to mention...

He cast a glance down at his bag where he could see a faint shimmer.

He remember wanting to feel even better he just continued eating them. All the sudden he felt sick and rushed for the toilet. Or... that was what he seemed to remember... after everything was a blur... or perhaps a dream. His mom came home and... Mr. Strickler? That was rather confusing. He had meant about asking his mom about it, but she had a very early shift at the clinic and wasn’t there when he woke up. But there was a note on the table which said that he could stay home if he wasn’t feeling well... which was rather odd...

However when the sound of a loud air horn rang out the youth’s thoughts were rather painfully disrupted.

Mr. Strickler then mercifully shut off the video and switched on the lights... which was... less merciful...

“Alright... class dismissed, and keep in mind the assignment I handed out last week is due next Wednesday. Now you cannot say that I have not given you a notice,” he said as he waved his hand, classroom filling with sounds about students packing their things and moving out from the room... Strickler already knowing that he would get several complains about him not reminding them about the assignment.

Sometimes human stupidity could really astonish the changeling. Even in all the years he had dealt with them... he thought he would no way he was able to surprise him... they somehow managed to. It was enough to give him a headache.

Slowly he turned to see Jim lagging behind, rubbing his head.

“Mr. Lake, how about you come with me to my office,” he sad as he started to wander out. Jim simply sigh but followed him down the hall to his office where he pulled out a plastic cup filling it with some water, and handed him some painkillers.

“I am impressed you would even show up to school tonight after the night you had...” he said as he offered the teenager a seat. Jim furrowed his brows in confusion, before the realization hit him.

“You were there last night!” he exclaimed.

“Ah, I wondered if you would remember, but yes indeed I was there. Me and your mother... we were catching up on the old college days, only to come back to find someone having eaten all the jello-shots,” Strickler said as he sat himself in his chair.

“Jello-shots?” the teen question.

“Jello, but with vodka instead of water. A very... deceptive concoction,” Strickler made a slight wave of his hand. “Take your medicine, young Atlas, you will feel better.”

Jim did, the water honestly doing him a world of good on its own, Strickler filling it up for him right away, encouraging him to keep drinking.

“Seems like you are a bit hung over... you really did not realize?” he had to ask.

“I just thought it was mom’s attempt to make something and it went horribly wrong somewhere,” Jim admitted, rubbing his head.

“It was jello... why would you believe you would get this sick from jello?” the changeling had to ask.

“Mr. Strickler... when you knew my mom in college... did you ever try any of her cooking?” Jim slumped back in his chair.

“Cannot say that I did, no,” Strickler furrowed his brows slightly.

“Well... if you ever did... you wouldn’t be that surprised that she could screw up jello... which she technically did by putting vodka in it...” Jim grumbled as he looked towards the clock. “Oh no... I have PE...”

“Stay here, I will inform coach Laurence about you feeling a bit under the weather,” the history teacher informed the student.

“So... now you are helping me skip class?” Jim asked with a raised brow.

“Well... I do feel at least partially responsible for your state this morning... it is the least I could do,” the teacher informed him.

“Wait... since you know about... was that the reason for that... particular lesson?” Jim asked with a slight accusation towards the older man.

“Well... I thought there needed to be some kind of consequence. Those jello-shots were made for me after all,” he chuckled softly towards him. Jim rolled his eyes, even if he was very grateful to not have to do any form of exercise. He was certain that his breakfast would make an reappearance if he had to move any faster than a brisk walk.

“I am not really certain if I should thank you or not...” he murmured slightly.

“Hm... well, I suppose that is fair,” Strickler let out a soft chuckle.

“So... how long have you known my mother?” Jim asked curiously. It was still a great surprise to him to that his teacher and his mom knew each other. He had never met someone from his mother’s past before moving to Arcadia.

“Well... we simply met in college. I however had to return to England within the first semester of us being at the same college. I left rather abruptly, not having the time to say goodbye,” Strickler explained.

“So... wasn’t phones invented when you were in college?” Jim asked, causing his teacher to raise an brow at him.

“Either you have no clue when the phone was invented or believe me to be centuries old. As your history teacher I am not what would be more offensive,” Strickler rolled his eyes... not mentioning to the boy that he was in fact hundreds of years old. “Though... I did not know her last name, so finding her phone number... which I did not have... would be near impossible. Unlike you and your peers, we did not carry means of communication everywhere we went, and even access to such information was not as easy as typing words into a search engine.”

Jim shrugged his shoulders slightly.

“So... you and my mom did not date... did you?” the mere thought seemed to weird out the teenager.

“No... we did not get that far,” Strickler muttered.

“Good...” Jim said as he let out a sigh. The fact that his mom had dated his history teacher was not something that the teenager needed in his life. Not like it was not complicated enough. The changeling let out a soft laugh, however he noted how exhausted the teenager was. Sure... most of it could be blamed on the teenager being hung over, but... there had been several days now that he had seen the young man having been distracted in class... falling asleep more than once.

While mostly it was a sign of someone staying up to late playing games or being out... Strickler had a feeling this was not the case here. He had already nicknamed the teenager young Atlas... not without reason.

It seemed like he really had the whole world on his shoulders. A burden which was more than any adult could handle, and though Strickler suspected that the teenager would show quite the bit of ire upon hearing this... Jim was still just a child.

“Is something bothering you, young Atlas?” now the teacher’s voice had become more serious, rather than the jovial one not long ago.

“No... I am fine... just a bit hung over apparently...” the teen murmured.

“It was not what I was referring too. You have seemed rather distracted... far more than usual in fact. I hope you are not taking on too much,” he spoke softly. “Taking a break is fine.”

“But what if you can’t?” Jim asked.

“Is this about your mother? I am certain that she will be able to manage herself she is a grown woman after all,” Strickler leaned forward, putting his elbows on his desk. Jim shook his head.

“No... it isn’t her. She is a bit busy at the hospital, but she has been trying to cut down her hours... it can still be busy, but...” Jim hesitated.

“That is something you are used to now isn’t it?” Strickler paused as Jim nodded his head.

“So... there is something new that is weighing down on your shoulders? You know you can always speak to me,” Strickler attempted to assure the youth. Again he could see hesitation in those blue eyes. In truth Strickler had trouble imagining what it could be. Jim was a good boy... far better than most adults, and used to handle a lot of pressure. Of course everyone had a breaking point, but Jim seemed rather happy for the most part with his busy life. He wasn’t the most popular, but he had close friends and seemed to be doing alright. His grades were decent and he did not get into trouble.

But it was clear that it was something going on.

“Um... it is just... something has happened recently...” Jim started. Strickler remained silent, waiting for him to continue.

“I just... I cannot really tell you... it just...” Jim continued slightly. “I just feel... a bit overwhelmed lately...”

Strickler let out a sigh, before he nodded.

“Just know this young Atlas... at times... we need to be selfish. You need too look after yourself, because if you do not, you are not good to anyone,” Strickler attempted to give him some advice. “Even if others may not like it, you at times need to make the choice that is best for you.”

Jim thought for a while before he nodded, giving the older man a slight smile.

“Thank you Mr. Strickler.”

“No worries. Now just head home, I will make a note that you were sick after my class, so you do not need to worry. Go home and get some sleep,” Strickler said as he stood up from his chair. “Are you certain you can get home safe? I could drive you.”

Jim shook his head.

“I am alright... I made it to school after all, the way home should be no problem,” he assured his teacher as he stood up. Strickler nodded his head.

“As you wish young Atlas, take care of yourself now, and I will see you tomorrow,” he said as he stood up, opening the door for his student.

“Tomorrow Mr. Strickler...” Jim smiled as he walked out the door and towards home.

#college days #stricklake #walter strickler #jim lake jr #knife family #avocado dad

[babylon-bitch]

Just Friends ~ We Weren't Ever Just Friends  (Part 29)

I know that the cover doesn’t do justice to the original but they are pretty good. That dress is really pretty though. Give me feed back honeys :) 

Harper White is best friends with Luke Hemmings, they always have been. Not only is she  friends with the rockstar, but with the rest of 5 Seconds Of Summer, as well as a really nice girl named Erika.

Harper has a few secrets, she can play all the instruments the boys play and many more. It’s a talent she has kept hidden, only very few people know.

What will happen to the six teens, wondering around the world together?

Warnings: mentions of depression and swearing

***

Only had one meltdown since I’ve been here, and I’ve been here two days. I went round to aunt Lauren’s house and surprised her. I was there for about an hour before I broke down, she asked why I’m here and I told her everything, more than my mum. I delved into my mental health more, I don’t like talking about it with my mum because she gets so worried and then won’t leave me alone. She told me about passed experiences and advised me to go see someone. Someone she went to about her depression and said it helped her so much.

She was really happy to find out about Luke and I, she squealed like the teenage girl she is. Lauren demanded all the details, which resulted in me crying. If we had to take a break, why are we even together?

The kids were all at school or nursery and Lauren’s husband Jonathon was at work, Lauren is a stay at home mum. It was really good to actually talk to someone without them pestering me, it was like therapy. We sat in the lounge for hours and just talked, she told me her problems, I gave her advice for her problems, I told her my problems, she gave me advice on my problems.

It was like having a sister. Lauren is my only aunt I’m in regular contact with. I hardly ever talk to my dad’s side of the family, mainly because they didn’t like my mother very much. For some reason though, neither of them seem affected by it. I’d say I’m closer to her than the rest of my family. Anna and Mark are Evie’s parents and I’m not too close to them, even though they live in the same country. Lauren is probably the second person I’m closest to, or at least top five.

We all know who the first person is.

There’s just something about her that makes her so approachable. Maybe it’s because she is a child at heart, she is 35, but acts 17.

The ‘therapy session’ was interrupted by Lauren having to pick up the kids, I came along to that too, and the look on their faces was priceless. They clung onto me for dear life.

I joined them all for dinner before going back home.

So far this whole trip I’ve felt this overwhelming sense of guilt, I’ve had endless texts from Erika and the other boys, none from Luke though, which I’m kind of grateful for.

It’s like he’s the only one that understands me when things like this happen. He knows to leave me alone, I’ll come round eventually.

Or he decided he wants nothing to do with me and has actually broken up with me.

In that case, shit.

He wouldn’t do that, right? Luke’s not like that.

I had a text from my mum saying that Erika came round and that she told her I’m at Anna and Mark’s.

Hopefully she believed that.

I have hardly been on my phone, only to change the song or text my mum. It’s quite nice to take a step back.

I visited my grandparents early this morning, they were just as surprised as Lauren was. I didn’t exactly tell her the reason why I was here because she was just like my mother. Funny that, they’re mother and daughter.

I’m currently round Lauren’s house, all the kids are here. They’ve just come back from school, so they are a little exhausted.

Lauren ordered me a pizza whilst she picked the kids up, so I’m eating that, the dog keeps trying to get some though, and so does Toby.

“Harp Harp, can I have some?” A little voice asks.

Looking to my right I see Toby standing next to me. “Here, one bite, you have dinner soon.” I warn and hold the crust for him whilst he takes his humoungus bite.

“Fank woo.” He says with a mouth full of food, and I burst out laughing.

“That’s okay.” I smile.

Deciding to show everyone that I’m not dead, and taking a picture of the pizza box with one slice in it, with the caption: oh shit.

Within seconds I get a notification from Erika.

@Erikaaa @Harper33 thank God, you’re alive

I like her tweet and put my phone down, groaning into my knees.

Why am I like this?

“You okay?” Lauren asks.

“I guess, am I being a bad friend?” I question.

“You’ve got to put yourself first sometimes Harper! You’ve got to be selfish to make yourself better. They need to understand that, if they want you to get better they need to see that. It’s okay, they’re not going to hate you. Yes, it might hurt them a little with you leaving without any warning, but they can get over that if they are true friends. Things might be awkward when you go back, but hopefully you’ll be on your feet again.” She reassures.

“Right.” I nod and give her a small smile.

“Don’t beat yourself up about it. I know how you work, and drop that guilt, that’s not going to help you.” Lauren claims.

“Okay.” I sigh.

Because I’ve got no one my own age around, I text Delilah and Laura.

Me: hey, I’m in england for a while, don’t tell anyone though because I haven’t told my friends back in Aus. It’s a long long story x

Laura: hello :) what a pleasant surprise. Do you want to meet up? X

Delilah: hiya, I’ve got detention, but I’ve only got like half an hour left. Where do you wanna meet? X

Me: in town or at my place, I’ve got the whole house to myself.

Delilah: your house

Laura: that’s decided then, thanks Del 😑 see you in an hour or so x

Me: okay, I’m at Lauren’s right now, see you in a bit x

Delilah: bye bitches

Laughing I lock my phone and start to get up, only to be met with a whining sound.

Lily pouts up at me and grabs onto my hoodie. I lift her up and hold her on my hip, which seems to cheer her up.

“I’m gonna head home, I’ve got some old school friends coming over to my house. Laura and Delilah, remember them?” I ask.

“Vaguely, have fun sweetheart, see you again tomorrow?”

“Yeah probably.” I smile and put Lilly down.

Gathering my stuff, well I say stuff, I mean my bag with my stuff in it, as well as my phone.

“Bye then.” She says and pulls me in for a hug then kisses my cheek.

“Bye lil’ munchkins, I’ll see you tomorrow.” I grin down at the exhausted kids.

I giggle as I see that they’re too sleepy to make a fuss about it.

“Bye.” I wave as I close the door behind me.

Reuben waves when I walk passed the window and I laugh as I wave back.

***

Everyone is here now, Delilah’s boyfriend tagged along. I made a cake whilst I was waiting for them, it didn’t finish in time, but it was in the oven my the time they were here.

Turns out he is a really good singer, Delilah showed me a video of him secretly singing in the shower and he blushed and hid in a pillow whilst grinning.

His name is Elliot and he is an alright guy, very funny. I can see why Delilah likes him. I’m just gonna get this out the way now, he is a total babe. He is so hot. Black almost brown hair, in a short quiff.

Now I’m not gonna go cheat on Luke with him, but I’m not gonna deny that he is attractive.

“You both are good at singing, why don’t you guys make a video?” Laura suggests.

“You can sing?” He ask.

“A bit yeah.”

“A bit? The girl can sing better than Hayley Williams.” Delilah claims.

“Okay, that’s a bit of an overstatement.” I accuse.

“No, honestly, she is one of the best singers I’ve ever heard.” Laura agrees.

“Do you play any instruments?” He asks.

“I play the ukulele.” I tell him.

I give Delilah a warning glare and she gives me a confused look before looking back at Elliot.

“Have you ever written any originals?” He questions.

“Yeah, I’ve written a couple.” I shrug.

“Her boyfriend is Luke Hemmings, of course she has.” Laura chuckles.

“Actually, he doesn’t know, no one does, besides you guys. So feel honered.” I admit.

“Why?” Laura asks.

“Long story, but do you want to film this video?” I ask Elliot.

“Sure, what’s the song?” He asks.

“It’s an original, I’ll give you a run down on what to do in a minute.”

I went and got my camera, lights, and ukulele.

Giving him my idea and him nodding his head. This song is called Creep, I wrote it a while back.

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=ineNlkIGXCc

***

I laugh and turn off the camera. He really is a good singer, his voice was really satisfying, it was like his voice were puzzle pieces and they slotted in perfectly. “Wow that was really good.” I grin and hug him.

“You were great,” He smiles down at me.

“Thank you, so were too.” I say.

“Well done guys.” Laura says as she comes back in.

We both smile at her.

“Best thing I’ve ever had, it gave me an eargasm.” Delilah follows.

“That’s a way to describe it.” Elliot furrows his eyebrows

“What are you guys doing this evening?” Laura asks.

“Nothing besides uploading the video, why?” I ask.

“Do you wanna go out?” Laura questions.

“Like out out or just out?” Delilah questions and I laugh.

“To a club?” Elliot ask.

“Yeah.” Laura nods

“I don’t know…” I trail off.

“Oh c'mon Harps, live a little.” Delilah nudges my ribs with her elbow.

“Its only half six now, we’ll leave at 9 or 10, you’ve got plenty of time to get ready.” Laura reasons.

“I’m going.” Delilah says.

“Me too, I’ve gotta fend off men from my girl.” He chuckles as he wraps his arm around Delilah, and kisses her head.

“I’ve literally got nothing better to do.” I shrug. “Haven’t you guys got school in the morning?” I ask.

“We can skip, or at least the morning.” Laura tells me.

“Usually Del is the ‘badass’ but this time Lau is, what happened?” I chuckle as I bump shoulders with Laura.

“What can I say? I’ve been around her for so long now that her habits are brushing off on me.”

“I’m gonna go home and get ready.” Delilah says.

“Okay, let’s meet back here at like eight, maybe half eight,” I explain, “Oh and I’m gonna post the video whilst I wait. I’ll send it to you, what is your number, or social media name?” I ask Elliot.

“I’ll give you my number.” He smiles and I pass him my phone whilst he passes me his phone.

put my name as girlfriend’s hot best friend.

“That’s a name…” He laughs.

He put his name as Harry Potter and I laugh at it. “Okay, bye then.” I smile and pull each of them into an individual hug.

Luke p.o.v.

I don’t know who that guys is but I hate him. He might even me related to her, I don’t care, all I know is that I hate him. And he is a really good singer.

I was scrolling through Twitter when I saw that she posted a video, being the good boyfriend that I am (or not, I haven’t talked to her, it looks like she has moved on) I decided to watch it.

They were both really good though, I’ve never heard that song though. It was a very pretty song.

The words were quite bold, and it made me worry about her. If she was that bad, surely she would of reached out to me.

I heard she ran off and nobody can find her, I’ve been pretending that I don’t care, but fuck, I care so fucking much. I want her back in my arms, safe and sound, more than anything. I don’t know if she is okay or not, it’s sort of sending me into a frenzy to be honest.

Erika is really upset and surprisingly angry about it all. Understandably so, I mean, if your best friend ran off without any warning and won’t return her calls at all, you would be mad and upset. Erika likes things to be normal, hates change, so I can understand why.

I really don’t know if she is okay, I’ve just got this feeling that she is a mess. I want to help her, but I don’t know where she is, or even if she’ll take my help. Which suck, it sucks balls, but it’s her way of dealing with things, I guess.

Usually she is an absolute trooper, but I guess it all just got to her this time. She still is a trooper, she’ll always be my little troop.

I’m currently scrolling through Twitter, deciding to check up on Harper. I have her notifications on, but I was busy at the moment so I just swiped them away. There were about two or three.

Searching her name, then clicking on her profile and scrolling down. There is an empty pizza box with the caption 'oh shit’, scrolling up I see her in a very revealing dress.

Hot damn, she is doing an innocent pose, yet the dress is anything but innocent. A huge slit in the middle, exposing a bit of cleavage, then it ends mid thigh. She’s not exactly showing that much off, but you can see everything.

Only I’m allowed to see her like that.

She looks great don’t get me wrong, outstandingly sexy, but why does she need to wear a dress like that?

That wasn’t a selfie either, somebody else was with her. I’m not trying to be controlling, but when your girlfriend (possible ex-girlfriend) hangs around with a guy, has a super sexy dress on, and somebody else takes a picture, you get a little nervous.

We set down a rule that we weren’t going to sleep or be intimate with anyone else whilst on this break, whether she has given up on me and already moved on or not, I don’t know. I don’t think she is the type to do that though.

I miss her, I really do, we haven’t even talked in ages. I’ve only had second hand information, I regret this whole thing. It does make it easier for her in a way, because I’m on tour she has to do all these extra things just to talk to me or us, and it’s wasting her time.

As much as I love being on tour, I’ll be glad when this one is over.

“Dude, have you seen Harper?” Calum asks.

“Yes.” I snap, a little harsher than intended.

“Alright, chill man.” Calum says.

“Sorry, it’s just, why is she doing this? Only I can see her like that. Why is she posting but not talking to you guys?” I ask.

“You were the one that told us to give her some space.” Ashton chimes in.

“It’s almost like she is playing games with us.” I claim.

“No, not at all. I think she is trying to tell us that she is at least alive, but doesn’t want to talk to us.” Michael adds.

“Why?” I question.

“That, we don’t know.”

***

It’s the next day now and pictures have surfaced from Harper’s night out. Her getting cosy with that guy she filmed a video with, there’s no kissing or anything, just her sat on his lap, or his arms around her.

That should be my lap and my arms around her. There is no one I recognise in the pictures, besides that dude and her.

Hopefully she didn’t drunkenly make out with him, then things would be completely over.

I couldn’t sleep all night because I was worried about her. I hate how much I love this girl. She could be a psycho murderer and I would still love her. If we do break up, I will always love her. No matter what happens I will. She’s been my crush for years, I started to develop feelings for her when we were 13, 14 and I didn’t really know what they were, so I just pushed them aside.

My heart literally broke when I heard she was moving back to England, my seven year old self didn’t really have anyone to play with after that.

She fell out a tree once when she was 13, and broke her wrist, and something clicked (not just her wrist) I don’t know what happend, I started looking at her in a different way, I saw her in a different way, was even more protective of her. Something changed between us and it hasn’t really been the same since. It wasn’t a bad thing, things just weren’t the same after that.

We held each others gazes for a little too long, held each other a little more than normal, constantly kissed each other, just on the cheek or shoulder, we weren’t simply just friends, and I don’t think we ever were, or will be.

I was about 16, possibly 15 when I realised I was in love with my best friend. That scared the hell out of me, I thought I was going to ruin it all.

She got a boyfriend at 14 and I don’t think I’ve ever despised someone so much, he took her first kiss, and that hurt me. At the time, I didn’t know why I was so jealous, and upset that he took her first kiss.  There were other reasons why I hated him, he took Harper away from me, and I was left on my own.

When they broke up a couple of months later, and Harper was crying in my arms, I could help the ear to ear grin that was plastered on my face. That made her mad though.

When she was sixteen and her lowest point, I felt so useless and helpless because I didn’t know how to help her. She tried to push everyone away and blocked us all out, but we both knew she needed us more than anything. Harper was so ashamed of what she had become, claiming 'I don’t want you to see me like this’.

I can’t lose her, she is the person that truly knows me inside and out. Yeah, the boy’s no me really well, but there’s something about Harper. Maybe its because she’s my soulmate or because I’ve known her so long.

#i love larper #luke hemmings #luke hemmings fanfiction #luke hemmings imagine #luke hemmings one shot #luke hemmings blurb #michael clifford #michael clifford fanfiction #michael clifford imagine #michael clifford one shot #michael clifford blurb #calum hood #calum hood fanfiction #calum hood imagine #calum hood one shot #calum hood blurb #ashton irwin #ashton irwin fanfiction #ashton irwin imagine #ashton irwin one shot #ashton irwin blurb #5sos #5 seconds of summer #5sos fanfiction #5sos fanfic #5sos imagine #5sos one shot #5sos blurb #luke hemmings smut #5sos preference

[megatraven]

who’s your favourite LI from each series you’ve read? :o and why?

*claps hands together* ALRIGHT!!!! (warning: as i typed i grew more and more long-winded and i dont apologize for it but u should kno)

alright obviously i have to start off with Astoria, of which Alex is my favorite LI! I'm not gonna go into why because *gestures to entire blog* and i've made multiple posts about it

from Immortal Heart Society, it's definitely Emilio thus far. admittedly i havent tried reading the other two, but I like emilio a lot! he's really grumpy and weary it seems, but i find the grumpiness charming and the weariness feels like it's there to be driven away by mmc's fresh approach and excitability. he's fun so far!

from My Siren Crush, I gotta say it's Maxime so far!! he and Arianna only have 6 episodes each so it's hard to say, but i LOVE his personality and how sweet he is. I really like that he's shy and that he does a lot of different kinds of art, and how gentlemanly he is!

from Ever After Academy, it's definitely Arin!! Sure they've only got one season so far, but they were my favorite character almost right off the bat, before we even knew they'd be getting a route! I love how much they care about the people around them and ho they do their best to do the right thing, how they take on so many responsibilities and are willing to do so again and again, if that's what it takes to get a happy ending for everyone. they're so funny, too, and i just really am a slut for the dynamic they have with fmc, the HISTORY....... incredible

from Tales of the Wild, it's Bram!!!!!!!! my sweet bear boy, he's so kind and gentle and strong and Stubborn af..... i really really love bears so i knew i was a goner the instant we were able to vote for him to be a new LI. his route is really interesting so far, too, what with MC being a dinae whose animal form was stolen! he cares so much about her and just wants to keep her safe, to the point he makes a Very Important Oath to her... like......... he cares her....... its so sweet..

from Reigning Passions it's gotta be Xenia!!! :D i admit i have a Slight obsession with spider-people, and the moment I saw her i knew that I was gonna love her to death. when she got a route i was so overjoyed! she's just. so genuine in everything that she does, she does her best to truly do what's right and what's good for the kingdom, and for mc. she's incredibly smart and resourceful, her magic is SO COOL, and she's just really really gorgeous. i like her dry sense of humor and her blushing sprite...... i love that she slowly gives her trust to mc, and confides to her about personal matters such as her late husband, and how she clearly still loves him even whilst loving mc. she feels like such a unique character, i really just adore her <3

from Sin With Me, i've gotta say my favorite atm is Onyx! I love all the routes, but DAMN onyx's really went all out with making her a fucking DRAGON?!??!?!?!? queen shit. she was also a really unique route in that she dealt with a lot of trauma from past abuse and had to learn to open up about it and accept that what happened t her wasn't right, and that she wasn't a failure for it. it had such a strong found family feeling, even compared to the other routes. everyone just wanted her to be happy. they accepted mc into their ranks quickly because she made onyx happy, and that's all the troupe wanted. and she is so pretty and funny..... she's so CUTE...... and i think it's one f the few cases where the LI is shorter than the MC?? idk she's just. so badass, and i loved her route to pieces!!!

from Sweet Enchantments my favorite is Lucien! (with a shoutout to emeril for close second)! the character growth he undergoes in his route is just ASTOUNDING, it's written and paced so well, i can't help but love it and him!!! also one of my favorite colors is turquise and thats His Color(tm) so im a hoe for that. i just. really my big thing with him is that he grows and flourishes into such an incredible character, so sweet and humble. he's also a very very funny LI (imo), and i love seeing him interact with all the other sweets characters! his cgs are the most gorgeous things...... there's a scene where he takes mc into the human world, to a cafe so she can call her parents, and it's so sweet. there's another where he takes her out and plays soccer with her. he just cares so much about her and her wellbeing, and even when he gets afraid that she'll leave him (when she's feeling homesick especially), he talks it out with her and learns to move past those feelings. he promises himself to her before he's even out of Sweets, and i just.......... it's so romantic and precious ;O; <3

from Havenfall it's always gonna be Mackenzie!!!!!! she was my VERY FIRST lovestruck route so she is always going to have a very special place in my heart. plus i mean. LOOK AT HER. her cute face and her CUTE WOLF EARS <333 she's so cool and nerdy!!! she's so STRONG!!! her protective streak is so charming and endearing..... the way that she forgives annabelle and damien and accepts them into her little supernatural family is really precious <3 she's so strong and that strength comes not only from her, but from her bonds with everyone else, and it's...... magical. it really stole my heart and sold me on lovestruck!!

from Love & Legends my favorite (so far) is Alain! I've only read three full routes so far, but Alain is incredible despite the shortness of his route. afaik it's the only route where the mc actually has magic (which i like), and they're ACTUALLY childhood friends to lovers in that mc is a reincarnation across time and space of his childhood friend. he's so cool and sweet, he would do absolutely anything for her because he loves her so so much. which is definitely one of his faults and what led him to being one of the Witch Queen's generals, but when mc came around......... you could tell he was so broken hearted by everything, but that he couldn't bear to not love her, even when it made him bad. and you can see that love again, when mc is selfish, and he leaves her out of anger in chicago. he keeps an eye on her despite his anger and his hurt, because his love is that strong. at some point, this one god speaks and says that alain's route is the only one of his lifetimes that doesn't end in tragedy, where he gets to be happy. i lvoe that trope so much even though it hurts so much. in the other two routes i've finished, he can't leave the witch queen's side, because she's that friend he knew, who he's loved for so long. in his own route, he's only able to leave the witch queen because he finds mc- a glance into what the witch queen could have been. who she should have been. someone kind and strong, who would love him, too. i dunno. his route is just really amazing and so is he :)

in Starship Promise......... it's a hard choice, but i have to say Nav ;O;; whenever i think of nav i think of that one fucking scene........ the one that broke my heart and made me cry for like Days. Stop him. Stop him. Stop him. gods, that was an incredible scene, i don't think i'll ever get over how powerful it was. not to mention... SALAD BOY!!!!! nav is Also a very funny character. he's a secret sadboy who tries to hide it with his charm and good looks, which, A for effort bud. he ends up being unable to leave mc behind, because- even though it scares him- he's fallen for her. his story is really incredible, he's an amazing character and it was wonderful to see him get the justice he deserved.

for Villainous Nights, i'll have to say my favorite LI is Lorelei! :D i'd say renzei and juliette are super close seconds tho. but Lorelei!!!!!!!!! I think she was one of the first routes I read following mackenzie, and she was definitely the first I read from villainous nights! i loved how strong and silent she was, and how much she loves coffee, and how she can make the earth quake. i always loved how hard she tries, how much effort she puts into being in control of herself, how much she does to try making things right. she did bad things in the past, blinded by optimus' promise to do good. and when she realized it, she couldn't stay with them. she turned her back on them and did her damned best to make up for all the hurt she caused. she loves the earth and its people and its nature, and she wants to keep it all safe. she had a broken heart, but with mc by her side, she's finally able to heal and find closure that she couldn't get before, on her own. not to say every LI isn't unique, but lorelei's is another route that just really stood out from the others. her panic attacks, the way she goes mute when she's overwhelmed, how the earth trembles when she gets angry or afraid and how she tries to push her emotions down to stop it........ i havent any of that- especially her muteness- in any other LI in the app. (not that ive read every story yet). lorelei is really incredible and i love her lots my butch wife ;O;

for Queen of Thieves, it's DEFINITELY Nikolai! first and foremost he's demi!!!!!!!! which i was so excited to find out about!!!!!!!!!! that made me instantly love him, and i think that ended up being the reason why i finally started reading QOT at all. i'll take all the a-spec rep i can get, thanks. aside from that, his route is just..... incredibly well-written. everything about it feels like it has this quiet intensity, which matches him perfectly. his self-sacrificing bullshit..... his truly tragic backstory........ how he came to make the poppy........ ho much he loves his little family, how much he loves mc, how much he loves ELIZABETH......... there's nothing abut nikolai that i dont love. he's so smart, but so fucking stupid sometimes, it's the best. he's the best. that first night, in his last season i believe, when he didn't have a nightmare for the very first time ever........... i don't know if i have ever been so happy for a fictional character before. i was so overjoyed for him. he's an incredible character and so, so interesting and multi-faceted, i can't imagine anyone else taking place for my #1 qot character :^)

and last but not least.... Gangsters in Love! My favorite here...... changes a lot, i'm not even gonna lie. it's ALWAYS constantly changing between chance, rory, and ash. like. i just can't pick one. so i wont go into as much detail here as the other paragraphs, but chance is just so FUNNY and dumb like yeah he's a badass ganglord wh orides a motorcycle but also he wears a shirt with a stupid little frog on it i LOVE him. i love how much he loves his gang, how much he loves mc. and ash... who WOULDNT love ash? he's such a sweetie and his smiling sprite makes my heart stumble and he's a dog person???? dream man. he's so silly and cute, he does his best to protect the gang and find justice for his sister, it's so admirable ;o;; and RORY!!!! rory is so badass and cool, she's wicked smart and kinda reckless but in the most charming way. i always really appreciated that her route touched on her alcoholism and showed her growing past it. i loved her character growth in general, and i ESPECIALLY loved how she acted towards stella and how she grew to love her.

that's..... that's it, i think!!!! :0c thanks so much for asking!!!!

#meg speaks #lovestruck voltage #lovestruck

[whatilooklikeeveryday-blog]

Today I look unsure

Everyday I slowly step up to the mirror to ask it what today’s look will be, today I did the same but now I also spend a whole lot of time doing the preparation work first before posing the question, lately I experience bad skin so now like all my sisters I also sit, polish and dab myself for a good amount of time just to control the break outs and black spots ( any woman’s nightmare!). On completion of which I then pose the question of what look shall I wear today? The answer was that of a girl with soul penatrating eyes who wore a sombre expression, I’ll take it although it’s not what I would’ve chosen on this particular day. I stepped out and drove home from this exhausting 24 hour cold winter shift. I will find her still in bed if I drive over 80 miles an hour, although she has company I will jump into her side. Traffic was okay seems like no one visits the beachside areas on chilly mornings, the drive along the coast is always bliss, our sea is gorgeous and the surrounding mountains make for a majestic backdrop. Even the sand dunes here are adorned by an evergreen coat of shrubs only foot pathways are single patchments of white sand with imprints of feet rushing down to splash into the ice cold atlantic ocean. I’m old enough to have met a whole lot of unpleasantries of this world. But none of them to this day have affected me as much as betrayal. This monster makes us forget how beautiful we are, it takes away our power by injecting it with fear nothing outdraws monstrosity from a woman than fear of abandonment. I’ve thus learnt that the only treatment for betrayal is acceptance, take all of it in and move on. I’m weak but I know that my strength and weakness are connected so I allow myself to be weak, I will indulge immensely on the subject of me, please allow me to be selfish and use the word I repeatedly and talk about me for what seems to be a while. I got home met our guests with kindness as any good host should. I jumped into bed with my woman. She had already mentioned that I should not go to church because I’m in need of some rest as I will work a full week from tomorrow because I’m sometimes self righteous I agreed. So we decided we will indulge in loose talk of no apparent order, naturally I listened mostly as they spoke about the events that took place the previous day at a party they attended, they then mentioned a prophetic ministry that sounded a bit incredulous, I suggested we go attend this church’s service. We prepared to go so all the fuss to look good took place, gosh we are so shallow! Her friend then mentioned something about their missing scarf as though it was a magic word I also mentioned how I miss my scarf that my girlfriend left at her house, she retaliated saying she wears no scarf it’s just an orange cheap scarf…Well I was baffled at first and thought that it can’t be happening already turns out I was too late as she completely shut down by the time I realised why she was far too gone into it. I followed her into the bathroom but by then she wanted nothing to do with me, her friend was there feeling awkward and the friend’s baby just wailed. I talked to her trying to bring the giant waves back to the shoreline but no I was shoved repeatedly I knew if I persisted I’d get hurt so I retreated back and admitted defeat. We attended to the baby until she was calm and attempted to feed her. Well we managed to quench that storm out. My girlfriend got jealous and dragged them out the door. I asked for her money saying it’s my change because I knew they were going to get a taxi with it she gave it to me cursing and all but they still left me there. Did I say betrayal is abandonment?! I tried not to feel anything instead of being overwhelmed I started praying about it fighting the spirit of defeat. I continued getting ready, a knock at the door… I guess they’re back before I got to the door the door was flung wide open and the broom beside the door was dragging the key from the floor to open the gate. I stood and watched I’m afraid of her, you may think I’m not but I really am afraid of her for one main reason lately she provokes me to hit her. It’s a vow I took a year ago that we shall never again ingage in physical problem solving. Its been over a year without physical violence between us. I want to keep it that way for as long as we are together. Her reasoning when she is angry is not too well and she is always pushing to do something when we argue llke pack up her bags and go, I decided I will always allow her to walk out whenever she feels like it and says she has had enough. This deeply saddens me it brings me too much sorrow in my heart. But I let her be and say my solemn goodbyes each time she leaves. Loving another this much is no good for either one of us. We have been together for two years now though the amount of ups and downs is over the brim we both know we’re drowning, the flood is reaching our throats now and we don’t know how much more we can take from each other. There is this wall that she pulls up each time she doesn’t like what I’m saying and mostly its because she jumps to conclusions and she is almost always way off. I’m frustrated by this behaviour I need it to change because we are running to a point of no return. I don’t want to be with no one else but that also doesn’t mean I should be this woman’s pushover. Is it a weakness this love I have for her or what? I have too many questions but I know this: I’ll be with no other person after this I’m not just broken and angry but I’m completely undone, if she were an object I’d take out the batteries and let her reboot a little each time she feels agitated. There are so many pressures in this life. I know she wants a child and stability but she is still finding herself, she carries a different way of life to mine. I plan and prepare a forecast for any idea I want to persue and follow up on a step by step procedure. She skips everything and demands immediately what she wants and guess what she gets it. The God we serve is indeed beyond amazing He provides you with your needs and wants regardless of these earthly procedures. The baby will be ours I’ll probably adopt her biological child so if the baby will be mine too I need to plan and prepare a few things okay I mean everything must be planned out right to the birth method. So I don’t just impulsively plunge into the deep end of such life changing matters head first period. The baby already has a name Nirvana, we would love a girl child. Well fine so I’m still getting my ducks into a row before we invite Nirvana on my side. On the other hand Miracle has no plans to wait any longer but at the same time she is not joining the party and earn a living to support Nirvana. She has an ex who drives a fancy german car who is willing to get her pregnant at anytime. Now I’m thinking she probably deserves to get what she wants anytime she wants it. How will that be as I feel torn apart infact I’m ragged when she leaves like when she did a second ago, I lose a part of me that connects my soul to body. The spaces open up in between my soul which seems to wonder off and return randomly as though it has a responsibility to ensure hers is doing alright before it could settle down