#Pain magnifies every feeling tenfold

[willgrahamsleftear]

Can someone just beat me up I think it’d fix me

#ever since I was a little girl I’ve loved the feeling of being in pain because it was the only way I felt alive #I remember being in elementary school and trying to articulate my feelings and struggling to make people understand how I #didn’t feel alive #I remember writing in my notebook that I wanted to cut myself open. to rip out my intestines. #My teacher found it and was horrified of course and the school got involved #if I wanted to keep going to school I had to go to therapy. which didnt do anything anyway #Hm #All my life I’ve lived in a state of not really feeling. real. #no matter what I did #pain is the only thing that’s ever made me feel at my highest #I can’t feel pleasure without hurting #Pain magnifies every feeling tenfold #I can’t fully enjoy anything if it doesn’t hurt #isn’t that weird? #Hmm

[ancientastarwis]

NOVEMBER PICK ONE IMAGE

Welcome to November! 🌟 The unique Pick One Image that I've prepared this month has the theme of forest animals, mainly because two options were intuitively clear before even choosing a theme. Choose the animal(s) you feel guided and let me know your option(s) below. Each option contains guidance for November through tarot and/or oracle, as I'm intuitively guided.

There's something special about this month, because I was guided to pull from two! oracles. Each image contains one card from one oracle and two cards from a different oracle. The first is Work Your Light by @rebeccacampbell_author and the other cards are pulled from the Earth Magic by Steven D. Farmer.

Feel free to book a personal reading or session with me, covering any area you might need guidance with, through the tools that you trust the most.

Leave a like and reblog this post if you loved it. Your support means a lot to me.

Have a beautiful day♥️

@ancientastarwis

Open for Results 🦉🐇🦌

Option 1: Owl 🦉

MINTAKAN. Longing for home. Belonging. The original Lightworkers. Mintakans are a soul group who originated on a planet in the constellation Orion. They were the first star beings to travel to Earth, and believed to be the original Lightworkers. The Mintakans’ home planet is thought to have been a water world with water so pure that you could see through it for miles. For this reason, Mintakans feel most at peace and at home when in or around crystal-clear water. They are here to teach us to see the potential in everything and the light in all beings. Many Mintakans have an odd longing for ‘home,’ and struggle with feeling like they don’t belong. It is thought that this is due to their home planet no longer being in existence. If you pulled this card, it could mean that you are a Mintakan or are longing for a sense of belonging and Root Chakra healing is necessary for you to feel secure and safe. Perhaps you feel this longing to find home without knowing where that is, or you’ve been moving around a lot and yearn for a place on Earth to call your own. If so, you are being called to connect with Mother Earth and create it for yourself now. To choose where you feel most at home and create it, rather than waiting for the feeling of belonging to come. Repeat: I allow myself to be truly here and at home on this planet. I release any grief around not belonging or feeling held and call in the perfect home.'

SPRING EQUINOX: Rebirth. You thought this passage you have been through would never end. Trust as certain that the light of the world fades every few months, it makes its return, and the Earth rejoices. The fresh breath of spring sweeps away the cobwebs acquired from the absence of the light. The light is now obviously increasing as Nature begins to emerge in all her many forms, shapes, and colors that remind ns of the continual cycles of Earth Mother. This cycle of rebirth you are experiencing follows a considerably challenging time. Any tears you may have shed have cleared the way for what has been gesturing, which is now ripe and ready to emerge. That which no longer serves you needs to be put to rest so that a freshness and newness of spirit can make itself known to you. Sometimes birth can be pain fid, particularly in that passage just before delivery, yet what emerges can be fresh and beautiful. Be with the emergence of this next cycle with faith and grace.

CRYSTALS: Focus. The nature of quartz crystals, the second most common element in the Earth's crust, is that they help focus the power of our life force, or Spirit. Where attention goes, power flows—and crystals magnify this power tenfold. Our intention influences where our attention goes. When we're consciously aware of our intention, it facilitates the focus of that spiritual power and supports the manifestation in material reality of that intention. It is time to bring your complete focus to the subject of your inquiry. Eliminate all distractions, and give this your undivided attention. Whether this is a project, relationship, or simply a relaxing time spent walking in Nature, be fully present to the situation. This sharpening of focus will expand your awareness and allow your inner guidance to penetrate your consciousness, which can then be parlayed into appropriate action By being focused with crystal clarity, you are in the flow of your life force and, in fact, have become one with it. It is not a hypervigilant or tension-filled state, but one of relaxed attention. Keep your eyes, ears, and heart focused on that which you need to pay attention to, and miracles can be created. To paraphrase a fictional elder, "Use the Force," and use it in life-enhancing ways.

Option 2: Rabbit 🐇

LEAP. You go first. The Universe will catch you. Life bends for the courageous. The Universe wants to support you, but first you need to leap. To throw your life up in the air. Perhaps you know what you are being called to leap toward (or away from) but are scared to make the move. Or maybe perhaps you are waiting for a big fat sign, or instruction manual, or permission to do so first. If this is you, then this card is your sign and permission slip to take a deep breath, and leap into the unknown. It’s scary to let go of all that we know in hope for something new. And it’s normal to feel anxious at the thought of letting go of what we know for sure. But this is the unavoidable process of rising. And right now, this is how you are being called to live. Nature is constantly showing us how to live with courage. Fall comes every year and encourages the trees to loosen their grip. To allow what once was so full of life, to fall away, leaf by leaf. For a moment, it feels like nothing will grow again. The branches are left bare without the comfort of what once was. But in the morn of spring, new shoots begin to appear and something new is born that is even more glorious than before.

STONE PEOPLE: Vigilance. Remain vigilant at this time, but not out of fear. "Vigilant" simply means opening up your mind and senses to information as it is presented to you: through your eyes, ears, physical sensations, and detached thoughts. It is especially true in two main areas. First, follow any gut feelings that tell you to be wary about someone or something; second, pay close attention to an important opportunity that presents itself one that may enhance your life and the lives of others. Maintain your vigilance of the clues around you and inside of you. Assess what is emanating from your body, and then sort out any conditioned responses from what is purely instinctual. Examine the situation with heart, intuition, and mind in harmony; for this is how vigilance serves you. Detach, take a breath, and stand tall in your stature.

WOLF: Instinct. You have lost touch with your instinctual sensitivities. It is the result of cultural and/or religious proscriptions dictating that anything wild and instinctual is threatening and, therefore, has to be controlled or eliminated. Now is the time to overcome this limited mind­ set and tune in to these instinctual cues. Let the Spirit of Wolf be your teacher, and call upon this benevolent being for help identifying what those specific cues are saying. Shed some of your inhibitions with the only guideline being to "do no harm.” Experiment by getting out of the straitjacket of familiar societal norms and listening to those sensations in your gut that are trying to give you a message. It may be a warning or an urging to take action of some sort. Take some deep breaths, and simply notice what your bodily sensations are telling you. Your mind will be the receiver of that information, and your body and mind can learn to work more closely with each other once again.

Option 3: Deer 🦌

DON’T DIM TO FIT IN. How are you dimming your light in order to fit in? Don't dim your light to accommodate someone else's smallness. We are all born to shine big and bright. The Universe is expanding and you are part of the Universe, so expanding is part of your nature. If someone makes you want to retract, notice, and slowly back away; they are not for you and you are not forthem. Better yet, find it within yourself to expand and shine your light anyway. Flowers don’t open and close according to who is walking by. They open and show their beauty regardless. If others don’t want to be around you, or you make them uncomfortable, it’s because you are shining light on the fact that they are dimming to fit in. By choosing to shine bright you may just inspire them to turn on their light too. Or not. Keep your light on anyway. All relationships are essentially an energetic agreement. The moment one person decides to start rising up and allowing their light to shine, it changes the energetic agreement and can create some waves. That's completely normal. The relationships that are meant to last will adapt to the change in energy. Others won’t because they were likely born under the proviso of'I love you, as long as you don’t shine brighter than me.' That’s OK, not all people are meant to be in your life forever. But the lessons they teach us can still live on.

STAR MOTHER. How can you Mother yourself? You are more held than you could possibly imagine. Loved and cherished so dearly that, if you knew, you would not spend one second of your life in separation, worry or fear. Let the Mother carry your burdens; let Her rock away your fears. Lay all of your worries, regrets, shame and guilt on Her altar. Please, please sweet child, do not fear. You are love in motion. If you see it, you are already healed, Let Her remind you of your goodness. Let Her love away your fears. Your capacity to love and hold others is limited to your capacity to love and hold yourself. Be compassionate with your sweet body, mind, and soul. Treat yourself like the beautiful spirit that you truly are. Remind yourself that you are doing your best and try not to carry it all on your own. You have got this and the Mother has got you. Let Her broad arms take away your burdens; let Her lift the weight of the world off your shoulders. Forgive yourself, my dear sweet child of the Earth.

MILKY WAY: Perspective. You have lost your perspective, so it is time to step back, breathe, and allow yourself to detach in order to gather information from your senses and regain your perspective about the situation. Detachment does not mean that you no longer care—it simply indicates that you are looking at things from a different point of view. It is an outlook that is not clouded by emotions, judgment, or attachment to outcome, but instead maintains a nonreactive awareness of these things. The Witness, that internal aspect of yourself that simply observes everything in your life, offers his or her eyes here. Through these lenses of pure awareness, you can examine all aspects of your experiences—physical, emotional, and mental—without denying anything. By doing so, you will come to understand a greater perspective than is typically justified by the ego, which allows you to see what is before you with clear vision and an open mind.

#pick a pile #tarot reading #tarotblr #pick an image #pick a pile reading #pick a picture #pick a photo #pick a card #tarot guidance #free tarot readings

[rottenpumpkin13]

This Time I'll Call

⏤ Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children

⏤ AU, Angst with a happy ending, Cloud Strife/Genesis Rhapsodos, grief, feelings of guilt, major character death but the characters are already dead.

⏤ WC: 1620

⏤ Genesis’s coping method these days include a phone number that no longer exists.

⏤ My writing is extremely wonky in this because I’m getting over yet another wave of writer’s block, but I cried to Yellow by Coldplay while thinking of this and now you get to feel my pain too :,)

The shutter of the camera echoed faintly across the vacant parking lot. It flashed, capturing the moment in color, but never in its full glory. It’s what Genesis found the most annoying about photography.

Photos never did beautiful scenery justice, and certainly not the infamous, golden sunset over Midgar’s ruins.

The sunlight would streak through broken glass and make the red dirt glow. Every dust particle became glitter, the piles of metal and rock were painted orange and yellow, and the decrepit buildings would soak up life in each sun ray, giving them the illusion of their prior glory, when Midgar was still a bustling metropolis. 

Genesis lowered the camera, then unslung the strap from around his neck. Angeal would always have them pose in the scenery after he’d taken the picture.

He said he liked to capture both the place and the people he was with, who were almost always Genesis and Sephiroth. 

He’d always bark orders at them, telling one to sling his arm over the other, or nagging Sephiroth to smile. Cracking a joke always worked. Sephiroth would always laugh at Angeal’s jokes. 

Sephiroth’s laugh was comically deep, a phenomenon that never failed to make Genesis himself laugh. Soon enough the two would be laughing and Angeal would snap the photo.

Genesis laughed quietly at the memory, then stuffed the camera in his open bag. 

It was a rooftop parking lot in one of the few skyscrapers that still stood. The hollow chill of the mid-autumn air magnified every sound tenfold, making the wind that whistled through cracks in the concrete sound like ghostly screams.

Genesis slung his legs over the barrier, sitting right on the edge of the drop. Then he reached across and pulled the bag closer to him. He fished around until he found his phone.

Genesis wasn’t delusional, don’t get him wrong. He knew dialing a dead man’s number was nothing but metaphorically picking at a wound. 

But it wasn’t like it was a daily bout of mania. It was only once every few months, a tradition of sorts. 

Each key he pressed emitted a small beep as he dialed the number. It went as it always did. He’d press the phone to his ear, his heart nearly tearing a hole through his chest, then wait for the electronic voice. 

“We're sorry. You have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service.”

“Hey ‘Geal, it’s Genesis!” He forced the words out no matter how much his voice trembled. “Guess where I am right now? Midgar. Well, what’s left of it at least.” In a low tone, he added: “You can thank Seph for that.” 

Genesis fixed his eyes on the ruins below. The breeze raked through his hair before he ran his own hand through it. “So…It was my birthday last week. Thirty-four. That’s a big age.”

He rolled his eyes. “Remember when Director Lazard turned thirty-four and refused to let us throw him an office party, but we did so anyway? Yeah, now I know how he felt.” 

Genesis crossed his legs. “Can you believe the little shits threw me a party? Behind my back too. I walked into the bar and was met with a giant banner that read Gen’s 34th. Ugh. I would’ve left immediately if the kids didn’t look so happy.”

He paused, then huffed. “Marlene ate so much cake she got that crazed cat look in her eyes, you know, the one Seph used to get when he ate too much sugar?” 

Genesis coughed, trying to hide his laughter. “And Cid—Captain Highwind, you’ve heard of him—he kept egging Tifa on, saying she couldn’t handle her liquor until she caved and beat him in a drinking competition.” 

This time he did laugh, heartily as the memory replayed in his mind’s eye. 

“She claimed she was only a little tipsy, but couldn’t mix one drink for the rest of the night. I took over, of course. I missed playing bartender. I still help out there some nights when the bar’s too packed, not that I have much time for that anymore.” 

Genesis leaned over and braced his head in his hand. “The WRO and Reeve keep me pretty busy…Something I’d never thought I’d say. Oh! And I’m a writer now! An officially published author!”

He couldn’t keep himself from giggling childishly. He was alone after all, with not one Barret Wallace to tease him for his laugh in sight. “It’s a part of a project the WRO’s working on. I’m under a pseudonym, of course, and instead waxing poetic about LOVELESS themes, I’m writing about The Cetra.” 

He smirked, tracing the cracks in the concrete with his free hand. “Can you believe I did it all? SOLDIER, wanted war criminal, presumed dead man and now I’m a writer. At least that’s how Yuffie phrases it.”

Genesis sat up straight, then shielded his eyes from the sunlight. “Speaking of Yuffie and LOVELESS, they’re making a new blockbuster action franchise based on LOVELESS. I watched the first movie last week with Cloud, Yuffie, and Vincent. I think I’m starting to grow on her. She can finally stand to be in the same room as me instead of attempting to kill me.” 

He sighed. “She has guts. Reminds me of myself at that age.” There was a pause before he added: “Firaga skills included, by the way…She nearly set Cid’s head on fire when he dared her to light his cigarette with materia.”

He stretched, stifling a yawn. “And then there’s Cloud.”

Genesis felt his heartstrings tighten at the thought of him. His lips subconsciously stretched into a smile.

“We’re doing well, taking it slowly…If him sleeping in my apartment during weekends is slow.” He shook his head. “I like him. A lot. And he likes me too, which is…Something I never thought I’d have the privilege of saying.” 

The sun dipped more into the horizon with each passing minute. “Angeal…Have you ever felt guilty? And I mean truly guilty? Because I do all the time. Cloud says it’s me developing a conscience after, quote, years of being an asshole.”

He swallowed hard. “I don’t know. Sometimes I feel seriously undeserving of the things I have, of the job I have after deserting SOLDIER, the friends I’ve made after I lead you….”

The phone nearly slipped from his weakened hand, but Genesis pressed it harder to his ear. He felt the sharp pierce to his nose, the pain that preceded the tears. He bit his lip harshly enough to taste the metallic pang of blood on his tongue. 

“After I lead you to your death.” 

The phone rang. Genesis paled, eyes shooting open as he jerked his hand away. The smidgen of hope that pricked his nerves became a childish reflex once he saw the name. 

Cloud flashed across the screen, right above the picture Genesis had taken of him in Kalm a few months ago, the one where he’s smiling while holding a Chocobo chick. 

He wiped away the stray tear from his cheek, then cleared his throat. 

“Hi—”

“Are you still in Midgar?” Cloud’s voice sounded from over the phone before Genesis could greet him.

Genesis sighed, then felt his body deflate as his shoulders dropped. “I am, why?” He scoffed in a mocking tone. “Miss me?” 

He could practically feel Cloud roll his eyes from the other end. 

“Full of yourself much?”

Genesis shrugged. “Not fuller than you, dearest.” 

“Gen!” Cloud sputtered, no doubt blushing while Genesis laughed uncontrollably. He groaned. “Look, if we’re late again, Tifa’s gonna freak. I’m coming to pick you up.” 

Genesis slipped from the barrier, standing up. “No need. As much as I love—”

“Genesis if you say ‘riding you’ I’m hanging up.”

“Riding with you!” Genesis corrected him with a smirk. “I need to stretch my wings a bit more. Besides, it’s quicker.” 

“You sure? I don’t like letting you fly at night.” 

Genesis smiled, leaning on the barrier. “You worry too much, Strife.”

“Because you’re a hazard to yourself and others, Rhapsodos.”

Genesis scoffed. “I’ll be there in a bit. I need to get started on that dumbapple pie, anyway, or else Marlene will have my head. I promised I’d bake her one weeks ago.”

“Alright,” Cloud said. “Call me if you change your mind. And stop flying if you get a wing cramp on the way, got it?” 

“Fine, fine,” Genesis waved his hand dismissively. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

Once they had said their goodbyes, Genesis pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at it. A trembling sigh reverberated through his chest. Then, he put the phone up to his ear again.

“I have to go now, ‘Geal.” Genesis pressed his lips together as if it would stop the words from spilling out. “I miss you, old friend. I miss you more than the richest words could express.” He sighed. “Say hi to the puppy for me. And tell him Cloud sends his love.”

He gathered up his things, then slung the bag over his shoulder. “While you’re at it, give Sephiroth a good kick in the shins for me, will you?” Genesis smiled, but he didn’t notice it. “And tell him I miss him too. Terribly.” 

Genesis inched the phone away from his face, paused, and then put it to his ear again. “Before I go, it should come as no surprise to you but…”

He sighed, letting his shoulders deflate as the weighted emotions rolled off of them. 

“Three friends go into battle. One is captured. One flies away. The one that is left….” 

As Genesis began to walk away, he looked at the sunset one last time. 

“Lives to tell the tale.”

#ffvii #ff7 #final fantasy #final fantasy vii #final fantasy 7 #ff7r #ffvii advent children #ffviiac #ff7 advent children #genesis rhapsodos #sephiroth #cloud strife #angeal hewley #strifesodos #fic #ff7 fanfiction #ffvii fic #ao3 #fanfiction #writing

[enigmatist17]

Being that Master Obi-Wan Kenobi often fought alongside Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker, the 501st, and 212th respectively worked together far more often than most battalions.

So when they're requested to join the Resolute, it's not really questioned until the Negotiator comes out of hyperspace in orbit around the moon of some unnamed planet. It seemed a strange place to meet, but the ship hovers beside the Resolute dutifully as Anakin comes aboard with Ahsoka on one side, and Jesse flanking the other.

"Seems a bit strange Captain Rex isn't with you." Obi-Wan comments, a jest that goes unanswered.

"Obi-Wan, we need to talk." The serious tone coming from Anakin now gains Obi-Wan's entire attention, and for the first time since he could ever recall, Anakin doesn't crack some joke. "I'd like Commander Cody to join us as well."

"Is something the matter?" The older Jedi frowned, and something coils in his gut at the way Ahsoka doesn't even smile up at him.

"Trust us, this is important. We have information about a Separatist factory somewhere nearby." Jesse stood at perfect attention, placing one hand on Anakin's shoulder as if to reassure him. "We'd like for you to come to the Resolute, if that's alright, my men have schematics for us to look over."

"Certainly." Obi-Wan doesn't have to look around to see his men are picking up on the energy leaking from the other soldier into the Force, despite Jesse doing his best not to broadcast.

Fear, exhaustion, and pain.

That feeling is only magnified tenfold when the small party returns to the Resolute, and the normally loud halls filled with jokes and laughter are eerily silent as they're led to one of the medbays.

"Why are we in the medbay?" Commander Cody asked, drawing his weapon but holding it down when the door locked behind them. "What is going on?"

"We had to bring you to where there weren't ears listening in." Anakin sighed, shoulders slumping as he takes a seat on one of the beds.

"What do you mean? Has my ship been compromised?" Obi-Wan asked in concern, and Jesse stepped forward with a small cough.

"Sirs, every ship has been since day one of this war." Jesse removes his bucket, and Cody eyes the fresh scar on the right side of the ARC trooper's head.

"Where is Rex?" Cody frowned as he cut right to the chase, and feels dread coiling in his gut when Anakin glances over at Ahsoka with a pained expression. "I haven't heard from him in days, and I don't see him here."

"He's on the moon below." Ahsoka seems finally done with spitting around the bush, and steps forward. "We...we have a lot to tell you both, and it's best we wait until you're...examined Commander Cody."

"Examined? For what?" Cody wasn't sure what she was implying, just frustrated as he watched Kix come out from his office with two tools on a tray.

"They won't say it, so I will. Sir, you are a danger to everyone in this room right now, all of us here on the Resolute were until recently. The longnecks created us to be weapons to kill the Jedi, but we know how to prevent that." The medic pointed to a bed, and after a gentle nudge from Obi-Wan, the confused and stunned marshal sits down. "Everyone, out until I remove his chip."

"I'll stay," Jesse commented, and the three Jedi move to leave the room, the door relocking after the Jedi stepped through it and out into the hallway. "Rex ordered me to make sure he made it."

"I know. Cody, you won't be out for long." The medic grabbed one of the tools on his tray, and injected Cody once he was lying back.

It seemed like Cody had just closed his eyes when he blearily opens them, his head aching somewhat fierce as he sat up with a groan.

"Kote?" Blinking a few times, the room swims into focus as Cody looks around, locking eyes with the person sitting beside his bed.

"Rex?" The two had seen each other only a mere month ago, sharing some time on Coruscant off-duty just exploring a small part of the planet. The man sitting beside him was not the Rex he had spent his time with, this Rex looked as if he had aged twenty years and had the guilt and loss to back it up. "What...what happened to you? What's going on?"

"You know I'd never lie to you, right?" Rex is looking at him as if memorizing how Cody looked, in case he vanished right at this moment.

"Of course." Cody fully sits up as Rex continues to watch him, and knows full well the pain that is swirling deep in his eyes. "Talk to me."

"....I died, vod'ika." Rex swallows as Cody stares, but the marshal commander has enough sense to keep silent and let Rex speak uninterrupted.

What he hears? Cody doesn't realize he's crying until Rex moves to sit with him on the bed, the slightly older clone bringing Rex as close as physically possible while he just listens. He cannot fathom the years Rex lived, and the thought of being alone with no vod to turn to was a thought that made Cody's blood freeze.

He doesn't miss the way Rex flinches when the Jetti enter, instinctively moving to be between Rex and Anakin. The Knight looks slightly ashamed, and Obi-Wan places a tender hand on his shoulder, looking just as horrified as Cody did at the moment. For a moment no one says a word, Cody and Obi-Wan sharing a look that only they know the meaning of.

"Why are we here? At this moon?" Cody finally manages, not wanting any more of the stifling silence.

"This area already strangles any signals that could make it back to Coruscant, so the first move will be to strip the Negotiator," Anakin answered, pointedly looking everywhere but at the marshal. "After we get all of the chips out of the rest of the 212th...I don't know."

"We should try and alert the Jedi Council." Kenobi frowned, hand resting on his chin as he looked at his former padawan.

"We should look into Kamino as well, sir." Cody frowned. "Get the chips removed...the longnecks, they'll know how to stop this."

"Kamino is a good idea..." Anakin turned to head out, motioning for Ahsoka to follow suit. "Come on Snips, we have work to do."

"Yes master." Sparing Rex one last small smile she followed suit, and Rex seemed to breathe a little easier when Jesse followed like an attentive hawk.

"A dead zone isn't the only reason we're here, is it?" Kenobi sat on the bunk opposite Cody's, his tone kind as he watches the captain glance out the viewports on the opposite side of the room.

"The only reason Ahsoka and I survived...after she helped me, we had to fight against every single vod here."

He can still see the look of horror on her face when he couldn't fight the chip any longer, blasters raised and firing in the blink of an eye.

Jesse and his brothers, all bonded by blood and batch, firing when his plan failed. He can still hear their screams as the ship falls, some trying to save themselves while most tried to keep killing them.

Mangled body after mangled body pulled from flaming wreckage, helmets removed to mark graves that would fade away over time.

No one left to mourn the once illustrious 501st and newly formed 332nd.

Rex isn't sure if he said any of this out loud, or if Kenobi did some sort of Force magic, but Cody is hugging him tighter than he ever had. Kenobi has taken one of his hands, and it's the first time Rex had ever seen the older Jetti ever cry. The moon was barren when Rex flew down alone in his old Y-Wing, but he remembered where the fatal crash had occurred, and gave respect to the land that held no dead.

He promised that this wouldn't come to pass, not this time.

#personal #star wars #star wars clone wars #star wars the clone wars #clone wars #swtcw #tcw rex #captain rex #ahsoka tano #tcw ahsoka #anakin skywalker #tcw anakin #commander cody #tcw cody #obi wan kenobi #tcw obi wan #order 66 fix it #fix it au #clone medic kix #kix #tcw jesse #arc trooper jesse #rex time travel au?

[emerald-chaos]

SUUHPRIIIIISE SHAWTY

I terrorized my friends with this and they inspired me to go ahead and post it. It’s the first thing I’ve written in a while—please be kind 🥺👉🏼👈🏼. Thank you to my loves in the group chat and to, as always, my muse @animehearteyes 🤍

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader

Word count: ~900 words

Warnings: ANGST (sorry about that…), alcohol mention, brief and minute spoiler for the game and episode 2 of the show

“I ain’t doin’ this with you right now.” He gruffs, his teeth clenched so tightly together you’re surprised one hasn’t snapped out of his mouth.

His tone matched his hands—cold, calloused.

“So when are we gonna to do it then, Joel? Tomorrow? The day after?” Your voice got louder with each syllable you spoke.

“Or is it gonna be when I’ve been bit and I’m waitin’ to rot away into one of them fuckers, like you did to Tess?”

One of your hands wildly gestured outward toward the window. You regretted the words as soon as they left your lips but there was no going back. As much as they stung—you meant them.

This hurt had been building for years. Between moments of tangled limbs and sunshine threatening to burst out of your goddamn mouth—there was this. It’s a damn miracle this fight didn’t happen ages ago.

Joel’s head snapped toward you, nostrils flaring with each ragged breath he took. Over the years you've seen your fair share of pain—of suffering. But you’ve never seen anything quite like that look on Joel’s face.

“Don’t speak,” He started, his voice dangerously low and chilling to the core, “on something you ain’t got the slightest clue about.”

“I get it, Joel.” The hand that had been outstretched toward the window now at your side—the heaviness in your body becoming almost too much to bear.

“You’re broken. You’re fucked up. That doesn’t make you special around here, in case you haven’t noticed. And it sure as hell doesn’t give you the right to continue to hurt people because you can’t patch up that wound in your chest.”

Unmoving—Joel stood before you, chest rising and falling in time with the beat of your erratic heart. Joel never really was a man of many words—but then again, he didn’t need to be. His face always said it all.

The lines decorating his skin make him look older than he is—more worse for wear than you’ve seen him in a long time. The beard that decorates his jaw ragged—patchy in some places, the ones you always loved to kiss. On a rare occasion, you see those lines tell a different story—one of love, of laughter—but it feels like you haven’t seen them for some time now.

“You’re never gonna let me in—and you know what? I can live with that.”

For a fleeting moment you think that maybe—just maybe—you see his face fall. As though the idea of letting you walk through that door hurts more than abandoning his pride.

“But what I won’t do, Joel, what I can’t do? Is continue to let you use me when I can’t get a single fuckin’ ounce of you in return.”

There’s a small waver in your voice, a moment when it cracks and your entire body feels as though it’s on the precipice of break down.

“God.” A noise leaves your chest that you don’t quite recognize before turning on your heels and crossing the room away from him.

Your hand cupped your mouth as your eyes squeezed so tightly together that flashes of color spread across the darkness of your vision. The voice in the back of your head screams, “do not do this, do not let him see you cry.”

The silence inside the room is deafening—the drip of the leaky faucet and the squeak of the loose floorboard magnified tenfold in the quiet of the moment.

“I can’t be…who you need me to be.” The voice was low—causing a small jolt within your body as the words crept inside your mind like vines and wrapped themselves around every single part of you.

“You can’t?”

You turned toward him—eyes red rimmed and wet as you met his gaze.

“Or you won’t?”

There it was—the pang of guilt and pain that he’d been holding back this whole time, the emotions you’d been trying so damn hard to pull from him for so long. However—before Joel could speak, there was a loud pounding at your door.

Glancing toward the door, you sniffled before walking into the kitchen—rubbing your face and clearing your throat in order to pull yourself together. The last thing you needed was for somebody around here to occupy themselves in your business.

You weren’t able to see anything from where you leaned against the countertops, but you could hear that it was Tommy.

“Where the hell you been, man? You ready to go yet? I’ve been waitin’ out here in the damn cold for you for hours.”

Your eyes closed tightly once again—praying deep down inside yourself that he hadn’t heard any of your fight. Tommy was sweet, but he didn’t know how to keep his mouth shut to save his life.

Joel sighed.

“Sorry, Tommy. I-I just…” His voice trailed off.

Your heart squeezed forcefully inside your chest as you knew he was looking back toward the kitchen—looking for you.

“Uh—is everythin’ okay?” Tommy’s voice changed quickly, probably sensing the palpable tension as soon as the door opened.

The beat of silence before Joel’s answer didn’t feel nearly long enough.

“Yeah, it’s fine. Let’s go.”

Next thing you know, the front door closes and the footsteps retreat until you can’t hear the crunching of the snow beneath the boots anymore.

It should feel good—right? Stickin’ up for yourself. Finally bringing light to this issue you’ve been dancing around with for years.

So…why doesn’t it?

Why, instead, do you feel like you’re in a room full of clickers—holdin’ your breath and prayin’ to whoever the hell that’ll listen that nobody hears you move.

You swallow harshly, all the moisture seemingly disappearing from your mouth by the passing second. Rummaging through the cabinet for a moment produces an old bottle of bourbon—you always hated the taste, but you kept it around because you knew Joel liked it.

Making your way to the bedroom, you kicked off your shoes as you went. A thud, followed by the groan of the springs inside of the mattress welcomed you in like a warm hug.

Whatever you were feeling—you decided—would be dealt with tomorrow. Hell, maybe even the day after that. You were good at putting up with shit for way too long—right?

Tonight it was just gonna be you, this bed, and a whiskey lullaby.

#joel miller #joel miller drabble #Joel miller angst #Joel miller x reader #Joel Miller x you #joel miller x y/n #Pedro pascal #Pedro pascal character #joel the last of us #the last of us #tlou #tlou hbo

[the-darkness-does-not-bargain]

Thinking out loud (in a sense lol), don't mind me

I want AvaLil to have something of a D/s dynamic in twitch au. Not a particularly involved one, but just something.

The sex stuff is relatively easy to square, but part of thinking about this is considering what, if any, non-sexual aspects their dynamic might include. And this leads me to contemplate my interpretations of the characters. Everyone is free to write as they choose, obviously, but personally I want to keep my versions of them as close to canon as possible.

So... I think Ava takes well to the sexual aspects of a D/s dynamic, but the non-sexual? I'm not so sure. In this au, she still spent most of her childhood quadriplegic in the orphanage, being abused by Francis and having every aspect of her life controlled. Because of this, as an adult, I think she would instinctively rebel against anyone's attempts to order her around or make decisions for her. (We see this when the OCS tries to bully her into working with them.) And I think this would be especially true if the orders came from her partner. We joke about her being whipped for Bea, but Bea doesn't really boss her around, she just easily persuades her toward a course of action. That's what I think Ava responds to, being asked or persuaded to do something. She likes doing things for her partner, and so would be interested in non-sexual service acts. But they would have to be either independent actions or requests, not orders.

I think Lilith is used to giving orders. Whether she's a high-ranking sister warrior or a lawyer, she is often placed in a position of some authority where she has to tell others what to do. She might even like it, but it has to be tiring at some point, constantly having to bark commands at people. I think she yearns, perhaps unconsciously, for a partner who doesn't view her as some authority that must be obeyed. This could reasonably translate to her being a bottom, but I think you could also read it as her wanting a relationship where she can just ask for something instead of demanding it.

I also think she has an inherent need to be useful to the people around her, and this would be magnified tenfold with a romantic partner. Basically she's a service top. She wants her partner to feel taken care of, to know that they can rely on her. I've already said she takes aftercare very seriously, and additionally I think she would be interested in non-sexual dominance acts that focus on care.

So, in no particular order, the things I think Ava does for Lilith include:

Making her coffee and/or drinks

Cleaning their apartment for her

Running errands for her

Brushing her hair

The things Lilith does for Ava include:

Massages (as noted)

Making sure she takes her meds on time

Enforcing breaks and rest on bad pain days

Covering most of their bills

It definitely takes them awhile to iron out the wrinkles and figure out their boundaries, but they get there.

#twitch au

[teaandfiction-28]

My request, if I may; you know how much I love your work. 😊

Characters, Hank and Kate 🥰

Fluff 12

Smut 11

Angst 11

Thank you so much @jasonbeghefangirl 💛 Okay, so I've broken these down into single requests and I’ll tackle them one by one. Hope you enjoy!

—————————

Prompt: “I never thought I could love anyone as much as I love you.”

Word Count: 0.6k

Warnings: None

Timeline: Set just after Alexis’ birth in C3 of “Brand New Day.”

“I still can’t believe we made something this perfect.”

Kate dropped her head on to his shoulder with a quiet sigh but still she refused to close her tired eyes in favour of watching the slumbering bundle in his arms. She had finally persuaded Hank to join her on the narrow hospital bed, the two of them huddling close together in the dim light, basking in the unadulterated bliss that came with welcoming their new arrival into the world safely. 

At just under six pounds, Alexis Voight was slightly on the small side but, cradled against the strong chest of her father, Kate couldn’t recall ever seeing anything so tiny before in her life. She had wriggled free of the standard-issue pink hospital blanket, her little arms extending overhead as her mouth stretched into a wide yawn, the most innocent of sighs escaping before she drifted back off to sleep. 

The pregnancy had been high risk, filled with more concern than excitement but all of that stress simply melted away now that she was finally here. It was probably still too early to say for sure but if her button nose, heart-shaped face and thatch of dark locks were an early indicator, it would appear that the newest Voight was in fact a carbon copy of her mother; something that thrilled Kate and terrified Hank who was already fretting about the number of boys he was going to have to threaten as she got older. 

While it wasn’t the first time he had held his newborn in his arms, something felt different this time around. That indescribable surge of love was still very much the same, as was the pang of nervousness that accompanied the huge responsibility of being accountable for such a small human and then it suddenly hit him why it felt different. 

Now he had a daughter. 

A miniature version of the woman he loved more than life itself who would look to him for guidance, for comfort, for protection. Of course all of those things were true for Justin but somehow those primal instincts were magnified tenfold now that he was holding his little girl in his arms.

“You know, I never thought I could love anyone as much as I love you...and then you gave me her.”

Russet orbs met bright hazel as Kate lifted her head from his shoulder, shifting her weight slightly to rest a palm against the back of his neck, fingers toying with the short tresses at the nape.

“I think it was all you, Mr ‘One and Done’.” She responded wryly, pressing a gentle peck to his grinning mouth. 

She was, of course, referring to the singular occasion when their reputation as ‘responsible adults’ had fallen by the wayside in the front seat of Hank’s SUV.

“Seriously Kate, she is...” He shook his head slightly, almost as though he couldn’t believe it was truly happening. “...she is everything I never dared to dream about.”

Sliding her palm upwards to cup the back of his head, she pulled him in for a slow, tender kiss, desperately hoping that he understood everything she was silently trying to convey because no words seemed to do what she was feeling justice. When she eventually eased away, the vulnerable honesty shining in his beautiful eyes had a lump forming in Kate’s throat, her own eyes brimming with tears. She had never felt closer to him than she did in that moment; and that made every single heartbreaking obstacle they had been through leading up to now more than worth the pain. 

“Yeah, well just remember that when we’re up to our eyeballs in baby puke and dirty diapers.” She muttered, resting her head back on his shoulder, feeling his body vibrate with a low chuckle. 

“Wouldn’t be the worst we’ve waded through together.” He commented dryly and she figured he was probably right. If they could deal with gun-wielding psychopaths, crazed, radical terrorists and everything in between on a daily basis, vomit and poop would be a walk in the park...right?

#request #prompt #chicago pd #one chicago #hank voight #one chicago fanfiction #one shot #fluff #hank voight fanfiction #hank voight one shot #hank voight x ofc #chicago pd fanfiction

[lowhowl]

Some notes about Jade's use of Frenzy. (icons are placeholder until I can nail down a more definitive appearance)

▬▬ The Frenzy wisp in her repertoire used to be Green. There's a distinct possibility they can be restored if a way to reverse the damage Surge did is found, but as it stands- they're stuck as a Frenzy negawisp for now.

▬▬ It works not unlike the Beserker Armor from, well- Berserk. It, in no way, enhances Jade's physical capabilities or grants her new abilities. All it does is completely nullify her ability to feel pain, increases her violent tendencies, and magnifies her adrenaline tenfold.

▬▬ To pull directly from its inspiration- barring her own choice or an overcharge-induced knockout, Jade will not stop. Not until every last drop of her blood is spilled, and every last one of her bones is reduced to dust.

▬▬ After the loss of Blue, that leaves the wisps in Whisper's care to just Pink, Cyan, Orange, and Green. Green may be a Frenzy wisp- but Jade won't treat them any different for it or give them a new name. She's still holding out hope that they can be returned to normal at some point.

#𝙒𝙖𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙗𝙖𝙧𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙛𝙤𝙧 ? ; VERSE 01. #🐺 ✧ 🗲 𝗕𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗸 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗿𝗵𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗺 - 𝗙𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗦𝗬𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗠 ▬ HEADCANON #had to get this out of my head before I went off for the night

[brutal-nemesis]

Saltwater Day 2021: Dinner Date with an Eel 💕

Feel that ocean breeze, baby! Cries in lives in a very landlocked area I hope y’all are having some fun in the salty spray ✨Today we finally get to see a Castys misadventure that I’ve talked about in the tags before: the big boy drowning incident! So sit back, relax, and enjoy the agony <3

Castys Masterlist

Ingredients: drowning, animal attack, self harm to escape danger, sort of self amputation, gore, broken bones, suicide for convenience (immortal)

Castys had jumped off of higher cliffs before. Granted, he had done it because he was too lazy to walk to the bottom, and he’d landed on solid rock, and it had been very painful for all of two seconds, so this didn’t make him any less terrified of being shoved off of this one. And yes, that’s right, he was going to be shoved off of this one, into the crashing waves below, which was certainly how he’d planned on spending the morning. Nothing better to start the day than a pointless execution!

Oh, but why are you being executed, Castys, you’re so good and noble and also immortal so this isn’t going to work is it. No, no it’s not going to work. And Castys was being “executed” because, well...turns out people don’t take too kindly to finding out you’re the dreaded Pirate King Ragnarok. As usual, he’d fought and tried to get away, and as usual he’d failed miserably. So here he was, wrists chained together behind his back, ankles chained to a stupidly large rock, and a cloth tied tightly around his mouth.

He tried not to think about having to deal with this arrangement once he was underwater, which was something he was less than excited for. There was already quite a large crowd gathered so, hey, at least he was popular. Actually, scratch that, based on the looks he was getting, he was definitely unpopular. He shifted a bit, causing the men gripping his arms to tighten their grasp. He huffed, wishing he had the ability to tell them to chill the fuck out.

“People of Meruna, we are gathered her today for the execution of the notorious-“ oh my FUCK nevermind just push him off already this whole thing was already bad enough without a speech about all his crimes and whatever. Not that he didn’t love hearing about his exploits, because fuck if he regretted any of it, but the sun was hot and he was tired of standing. That water was going to feel so good...until it was filling his lungs ugh nope don’t think about it like that he was just going for a nice swim that’s all. He was going to be in the nice, cool water without any of these assholes glaring at him, and he’d get out of these chains somehow and come back in ten years and release all their goats and that would show them.

All of a sudden, the hands on him started to push him towards the edge of the cliff, a third guard rolling the rock he was chained to along using her foot. Fuck, fuck the speech was over they were doing it he was going over the edge he’d just been joking earlier he really didn’t want to even if the water would feel good he’d rather stand out here all day because that sure as hell was better than drowning over and over and over the edge the air was rushing by the top of the cliff was getting farther and farther away any second now he-

Castys screamed into the gag as he slammed into the cold water, wasting his last breath of air like an idiot before he started to sink beneath the crashing waves, pulled down by the boulder attached to his ankles. He could only squirm uselessly as he sank deeper and deeper, the soaked-through gag filling his mouth with the taste of saltwater, just to make things even more unpleasant. His arms were killing him, and, you know what, they took the brunt of the impact with the water, so they were probably fucking broken, weren’t they? At least they would heal after...after he drowned for the first time. Already his lungs were starting to burn, but thankfully the rock had finally hit the bottom, so he wouldn’t sink any further and therefore the painful pressure on his ears wasn’t going to get any worse, at the very least. 

Positives, positives, since he was probably going to be here for a while...it wasn’t so stupidly hot anymore, instead it was stupidly cold, and already his fingers were starting to go numb-nope, nope, not a positive, let’s try again. It was rather pretty down here, despite the fact that black spots were starting to cloud his vision, and also things were starting to get kinda...woozy, a little bit, a little, hell-o and goodbye, wasn’t it time now? Yeah, yes, the burning was too much it hurt hurt hurt everything was black and black was good bec-

He didn’t bother counting how many times he drowned. Maybe it would have helped pass the time or something, but, let’s be real, there were better things to focus on than how many times he’d experienced the horrible burning in his lungs and that awful lightheadedness. His broken arms had healed up, so that was something, but they were still very much shackled behind his back. If they were free he could at least get that stupid gag out of his mouth and try to fuck with the chain connecting his ankles to that dumb rock. He settled for looking around the underwater landscape surrounding him, glad that sunset was still a ways off. As far as he could tell.

When he could see and think clearly, it was kind of cool to be down here, circumstances aside. All sorts of fish, many of them varieties that he knew what they tasted like, swam around between the wavy water plants. There was even a really big lookin’ boy off in the distance that he’d seen out of the corner of his eye a few times, though it was coming closer now, and he was just starting to be able to make out...wait-was that a-great. Absolutely fantastic, just what he needed. A fucking shreilian eel. How dare he drown over and over in peace, no, no let’s add a vicious man-eating monster to the mix! At least he wasn’t bleeding, so the creature wouldn’t be immediately drawn to him. He’d get to keep his limbs intact for a little longer-wait wait wait. Okay that was absolutely crazy and sounds entirely unfun, but...it might just work.

Castys mustered as much strength as he could, ignoring the ever-present burning of his lungs, and began to clumsily bash himself against the nearby wall of stone. It was coated in barnacles and the like, but their sharp edges were just what he was looking for. Soon enough, he felt the awful sting of saltwater in the many small cuts that were now littering his arm. Fuck, that was nowhere near enough blood to get that eel over here, and his vision was starting to go dark. If he didn’t get that damn thing over here now he’d die and heal and have to do this bullshit all over again no no no get over here you stupid thing fuck yeah that feels like a nice gash it burns to high hell but so does everything and look at all that bloody water or maybe it’s just getting too dark because it is dark and...so...hurt…

When he came back to life, there was a small cloud of blood swirling in the water around him, but it was dissipating more and more by the second. He couldn’t see the eel anywhere, and if that bastard disappeared on him after all that...Instinctively, he tried to take a deep breath and ended up sucking a bunch of water up his nose like an absolute idiot, his nostrils now burning just as much as his even more waterlogged lungs. His body tried to cough, but it was just painful and useless like everything else he’d done while stuck down here, and he just ended up thrashing around like an injured fish.

Just what the eel had been waiting for.

It felt like he’d suddenly been hit by a mace, slamming him into the rocks, his arm lighting up with the pain of a thousand hot spikes, almost too intense for him to even process, the salty water magnifying every little agony tenfold. Castys was certain he would have been screaming if he had the air, and as much as this was absolutely fucking terrible, he hoped the eel would do it again. It had bitten off a good chunk of his arm as far as he could tell, but not enough to completely sever it and free him from the restraints. And for once, his horrid luck regarding avoiding pain paid off. The eel rammed into him again, ripping off more of his arm with its razor-sharp teeth and causing the bones of his forearm to crack. 

Sensing his chance, Castys grabbed the manacled wrist of his shredded arm with his good hand, bit down on the gag, and pulled. He couldn’t give up, couldn’t stop, not after enduring this much, he could feel his flesh tearing, sending out sparks of agony unlike anything he’d ever known, and he had to keep pulling, pulling and jerking and tearing and twisting and praying, praying that he could rip it off before he drowned again, which, hey, kind of a weird thing to want, not that he hadn’t had to amputate his own limbs before, but weird that it was happening again, and honestly, this hurt way more than the other times, but wasn’t that always the case-and fuck there was no way he was going to be able to just snap his bones like this, and he needed it to be completely severed, and there was no time, wedge it against the rocks and pull pull pull until there was a snap and a burst of unholy agony, so intense it almost smothered the relief, so fierce it made him forget he was drowning up until the moment his oxygen-starved brain lost consciousness. 

Castys’s arms were free. Well, one was free, and the other one was still manacled, attached to...what was left over after all that. He ripped the gag out of his mouth, resisting the urge to suck in mouthfuls of air that were absolutely not there. Looking down at his ankles, he wasn’t sure if-his body exploded with pain as the eel rammed into him again, taking a chunk of flesh from his side, which was definitely not where he wanted to be bitten. Gritting his teeth against the anguish that almost consumed him, he grabbed the wrist of his severed arm and clumsily smeared blood around his ankles, hoping it would entice the monster to attack them and help set him free. 

It worked, and it didn’t. The eel attacked him again and again, no longer pausing in between bites to circle him. Castys wasn’t even sure where it was biting him anymore, he just knew that everything hurt, the saltwater in his wounds magnifying the pain so much that there was no discernible source. He didn’t try to fight the eel off, hoping it would just do enough damage to his legs that he could get free, but he wasn’t sure if he could have even tried to get it away from him if he wanted to. Things were getting so dizzy so fast, all of a sudden, there was nothing to do but wait and die and hurt…

When he came back to life, Castys was disappointed to find that he was not floating to the surface. In fact, one of his ankles felt kind of weird, like it wasn’t shackled anymore, but still...for fuck’s sake. One of his ankles had been freed, torn enough to shreds before he’d died that the manacle had come off, but the other one was...well the manacle wasn’t around his ankle so much as it was…in his ankle. How the fuck that had happened, he had no clue. He just knew he had to deal with it. Looking around, the eel wasn’t anywhere to be seen, probably full to bursting after its meal, and though his heart sank a little at the thought that he couldn’t rely on it anymore, he was also slightly relieved, because that thing had been vicious. It had, however, left a parting gift. He swam downwards and grabbed the smooth fang off of the sandy ocean bottom, gripping it tightly. Just a little bit more. 

He had endured so much already, felt pain more intense, experienced sensations more gruesome, but this...this was more active than everything else that had happened down here. More visible. He had to make every stab and slice deliberately, had to watch the tooth do its damage, it wasn’t mindless bashing or praying he’d get bitten in the right places, but an active choice to cut his flesh away, inviting burning seawater into a wound once again, and it was difficult. Part of him wanted to stop, take a break, please, I don’t want to have to do this anymore, I want to let go, just for a little bit, please, but he knew he couldn’t, because he had to get this done before he drowned again or he’d have to start the whole damn thing over. 

Relief like he’d never known washed over him as he finally managed to worm the manacle out of his shredded ankle and he felt himself start to rise. The lightheadedness was getting worse, and he wasn’t sure if he’d make it in time, so he wormed his finger into the pouch around his neck and let the death stone’s magic take him before the lack of air could. He was still rising when he came back to, and he propelled himself towards the surface with renewed strength, despite the pain of his ears popping and the odd ache in his joints. 

Finally, blessedly, he made it to the surface, and air had never tasted so fucking good. Not that it wasn’t salty, but it wasn’t as salty as saltwater, and he sucked as much of it as he could into his waterlogged lungs. He looked up at the cliff towering over him, now painted with the orange of sunset instead of the gold of sunrise. He...he had been down there all day just...downing. And getting eaten. Kinda fucked. Seeing a nearby rock, he swam over to it and scampered on top, collapsing on its damp surface as he coughed up far too much fucking seawater. Fuck, his head was spinning and his joints hurt, like they probably would have if he could grow old. Well, nothing that one last death can’t fix, now that he was finally on land again.

Castys opened his eyes and sat up, feeling perfectly fine besides the awful, salty taste in his mouth. He looked over at the cliff smugly. Those bastards had tried to get rid of him for good, and they’d failed miserably. He folded down his middle fingers and placed his thumbs over them, a rude gesture in this part of the world. Seeing the remnant of his arm dangling from the manacle still attached to his left wrist, he had a devilishly gruesome idea. 

The next morning, the whole town was awoken by the screams of a young couple who had gone out for a stroll.

Right there, in the middle of the town square, was part of a crudely severed arm, its fingers frozen in an obscene gesture, its skin slimy and already starting to slip off. A manacle was clamped around its wrist, attached by a short chain to the other one, which had been broken open. 

The execution had failed, and that heinous pirate had escaped.

Castys Cult: @as-a-matter-of-whump​ @blackrosesandwhump​ @fanmanga1357-blog​​ @thehopelessopus​ @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi​ @hearse-song​ @muddy-swamp-bitch @whumpasaurus101 @yet-another-heathen​​ @galaxywhump​ @starnight-whump​ @his-unspoken-words

#i wrote something #castys #animal attack cw #drowning cw #self amputation #self harm to escape danger #suicide for convenience #gore #hooray yall finally get his big drowning incident #sorry that it's not super drowning focused i still am not a drowning fan #it's not gory and the application of the pain is more indirect so thats why im indifferent to it #actually writing this has made me realize both how fucking batshit castys is and also that he's really determined #i was always aware that getting a sea monster to bite off his limbs so he could get out of the chains was nuts but like damn. it's very nuts #and when he was ripping off his arm like holy shit dude #you might be a rat bastard but you don't give up. stubborn stubborn man #he's like a fucking weed #castys calls kelp a plant but it's not a plant he does not have access to our biological classification scheme #that's his excuse but i will not support the spread of misinformation #yes the eel is based off the shrieking eels from princess bride #aka one of the greatest movies of all time #i dont accept criticism on this #i didnt want to use a real animal because then i would have to research behavior and shit #and i dont want people showing up like ''ACTUALLY that shark doesn't behave that way uwu'' #im just very lazy and i want to bitey monster to do what i want it to do without spening hours reading behavorial articles #not that this didnt make me look at eel life cycles because EEL LARVA ARE SO FUNNY LOOKING LOOK THEM UP #THEYRE JUST BIG FLAT GLASS WIGGLES THAT GO :v #that said i did try to base the eel off of shark hunting behaviors i vaguely remember from shark week #he gets decompression sickness a bit there at the end that's why his joints hurt #saltwater day #saltwater day 2021

[cinnaminsvga]

🌸 social media au where y/n posts a fake boyfriend application on twitter as a dare but ends up seeking something real in the long run (aka how to fall in love the zillennial way) 🌸

A/N: RIP Jungkook... When will he catch a break, I wonder? Who is Hoseok to him anyway? Much to think about... Also I’m just gonna say this, but Jungkook is literally the most unreliable narrator I’ve ever had to write, so take that in mind when you read this. Enjoy! || W.C. 2K

prev // part 14 of ? // next masterlist here.

[updates every 6PM PST]

It takes another 10 minutes or so until the maintenance guy manages to rescue both Jungkook and Namjoon out of the elevator. Luckily, the elevator didn’t stop midway between floors so they didn’t have to crawl or climb out, so getting out is a quick and easy ordeal once the doors are opened. Jungkook breathes a sigh of relief, but that moment of calm is short-lived when he hears Namjoon clear his throat behind him.

“Umm… Jungkook-ssi, right?” Namjoon addresses him by his name for the first time. Jungkook jumps up in surprise, though he should have known that you would have ratted him out when you found out he was intentionally ignoring the taller boy.

“I… Yeah. And you’re Namjoon,” Jungkook doesn’t even bother tacking on the question mark at the end, too worn out mentally to bother pretending like he’d only suddenly realized. He rubs the back of his neck, thankful that he’s turned away from Namjoon so that he doesn’t see the flash of annoyance across his face.

Without another word, Jungkook begins climbing the last two flights of stairs to reach your shared apartment. He doesn’t turn to see if Namjoon follows, though he does hear the extra pair of footsteps close by.

When they file into your shared home, the awkward tension magnifies tenfold. While Namjoon and Jungkook had been gone, it seems that Hoseok has already made himself comfortable, laughing jovially at something you said as he helps you bring the last remaining pairs of cutlery to the table. Jungkook looks over at the new visitor from the corner of his eye and notices the way Hoseok has his gaze locked fervently on you as you fussed over everyone’s seating arrangements.

“Oh, Jungkook! Namjoon!” You shove Yoongi’s plate towards him the moment you hear the door open, sprinting over to the two of them. Your hair is in complete disarray, slightly frizzy in places even after you had painstakingly taken an hour this morning trying to look presentable. Even so, Jungkook can’t help the way his heart beats a little faster when you envelop him in a tight hug, as you’ve always looked cute to him no matter what. When he wraps his arms around you to return the embrace, he feels you lower your lips near his ears. “You’re in big fucking trouble, mister. We’re talking after all of this is over,” you whisper darkly. He gulps audibly when you separate, the smile on your face is eerily present.

Thankfully, you don’t hug Namjoon as well, though an apology is out of your mouth before Jungkook can distract you. “Namjoon, I’m so sorry again. I wish I had warned you about the elevator sooner,” you pout, but Namjoon is quick to waive your concerns.

“Hey, it’s not your fault. You didn’t know. All that matters is that we’re here now.” He smiles warmly, his dimples on full display. You clear your throat, staring wide-eyed at him, no doubt dumbstruck by his handsome features. Jungkook tries to relax the tick in his jaw, but to no avail. Instead, he marches past the two blushing fools, eager to get away.

Since your apartment is quite small, you set most of the food onto the coffee table, with everyone either sitting on the floor or on the couch. Jungkook is quick to take a seat next to you on the couch, but that also forces him to have Seokjin on his other side. The elder winks salaciously at him, which Jungkook pointedly ignores.

Namjoon and Hoseok take a tentative seat on the other side of the coffee table. Namjoon’s gangly legs make it difficult for him to fold himself in properly, so you offer to switch places with him instead, much to Jungkook’s dread. Namjoon glances at him for a moment before hesitantly accepting your offer, squishing himself on Jungkook’s right side on their small, sunken couch. He can feel rather than hear Seokjin’s attempts to mask his nefarious giggles.

You seat yourself beside Hoseok, who smiles widely back at you. “Sorry, I totally forgot to introduce myself. I’m Y/N! I’ve heard all about you from Namjoon.”

“Really? Well, I hope it’s only been good things,” he says. “To be honest, I don’t think I’d see you again after that time in––“

“I’m going to fucking start eating now!” Jungkook interrupts, stabbing his chopsticks into the mountain of pork that you had prepared. Somewhere in Busan, he’s sure his mother is cringing at his terrible manners.

For a moment, you seem startled by his sudden proclamation, but you’re quick to shake it off. “Alright everyone! Please dig in,” you say, clapping your hands with a large grin on your face. Jimin is the first to dive into the food, popping a piece of kimbap into his mouth and moaning loudly in satisfaction.

“Y/N, I don’t know what type of crack you put into your food, but MAN this is delicious,” he says, already piling up his plate with anything he can get his hands on. Yoongi is slightly more reserved when he takes a prawn and chews it softly, nodding in agreement with Jimin’s statement.

“Thank you for this meal, Y/N. You must have worked really hard,” Namjoon says, reaching over for some food as well. Jungkook watches as he nearly bumps the plate of ssam off the edge of the table. “Oh, whoops.”

Hoseok laughs loudly, the sudden noise surprising everyone around him. He doesn’t look all that embarrassed, however. “I’ll have to apologize for Joon in advance. He’s a bit of a clumsy guy.” He smiles kindly at Y/N. “You’re gonna have to get used to that eventually, I suppose.”

Jungkook notices the soft blush rising up your neck. His grip on his chopsticks tightens as he takes a particularly rough bite out of his food. “I, um, suppose I will,” you laugh shyly, rubbing the back of your neck while keeping your gaze off Namjoon. You accidentally make eye contact with Jungkook instead, who didn’t have enough time to erase the annoyance out of his expression. You flinch slightly, before softening your voice in that tone you use whenever Jungkook felt a little stressed out. “Jungkook? Are you okay? Is the meat too tough or something?”

Seokjin snorts beside him, nearly choking as he was in the middle of taking a big swig of water. Jungkook hates that he knows that the bastard is enjoying this way too much. Jungkook’s frustration is easy for anyone to see, with only you being left unaware as to why he was so agitated. Your cluelessness only adds to his bubbling anger. “Yeah, Jungkook. Are you alright? Bet you wished there were less people at the table, huh?”

Jungkook is quick to stomp on his foot, causing the prick to yelp in pain. He’s too busy pinching Seokjin in the tit that he misses the way Namjoon’s face falls, dejectedly looking at his food with a deep furrow in his brow.

“Oh? Are you becoming self-aware? Maybe you should take a page out of your book and leave before I kick you out myself,” you huff, scowling at Seokjin. You must have misinterpreted his little side comment, though Jungkook isn’t sure if he should be thankful for that or not. You turn to Taehyung, who has been mysteriously quiet this entire time. “And you. I know I said you could bring a friend over, but I didn’t expect you to bring this soggy testicle!”

Taehyung just shrugs, his attention focused on his phone. “What?” He doesn’t look up, his fingers furiously occupied with something else. “Oh, yeah. Sorry about that. Won’t do it again.” When he finishes his text, Seokjin’s phone dings soon right after. Jungkook’s eyes narrow suspiciously at the two, but neither of them seems to care.

You’re beginning to look flustered, mouth opening and closing as you figure out a way to salvage this mess of a dinner. If Jungkook had been slightly less preoccupied with his own swirling thoughts, he might have thought to comfort you or say something to alleviate the tension. Instead, he has his head bowed in shame, the bitter taste in his mouth unwilling to leave until the boy to his right decides to leave first.

“Anyway,” Yoongi clears his throat, causing Jimin to jump beside him. Normally, Yoongi never spoke all that often when they got together, usually content with eating and listening to the younger ones joke around. He isn’t looking at Jungkook, but he knows that Yoongi must have read his mind. He waves his chopsticks around vaguely at Namjoon. “You. You like woodworking, right?”

Startled from being directly addressed, Namjoon’s posture straightens slightly at the mention of his favorite activity. “Y-yes. It’s a bit of a side hobby that I do when I’m not busy with school or work. I’m… not very good. Just a novice, really.” He laughs, nervously propping his glasses up his nose until they’re nearly up to his forehead.

“Oh, hush! Namjoon is fantastic! I got him to make little wooden figurines to decorate the cafe over the summer, isn’t that right?” Seokjin interjects, reaching over Jungkook to slap Namjoon on the back.

“That’s right! Namjoon, I’ve seen your photos on Instagram! You’re definitely good at what you do,” you say, eyes sparkling with amazement. Namjoon coughs shyly into his hand, but it doesn’t hide the blush painting his cheeks.

Jungkook feels his blood pressure boiling, but he grits his teeth instead. “Interesting stuff,” he murmurs sarcastically, soft enough that only you wouldn’t hear. He senses Namjoon sagging back into his seat, but he doesn’t even feel remotely guilty that he had heard him. Even without looking up, he knows that Yoongi is sending him a warning look in response.

“Namjoon, that’s really cool. I’m an interior design major, so I’d love to see what you might think about the wood pieces I’m thinking of purchasing for an upcoming exhibit,” Yoongi says, trying to salvage the situation. Jungkook glares at him, but the elder doesn’t back down. Instead, he quirks a brow up, as if challenging him to say something.

Jimin gasps, a few bits of rice falling out of his mouth and into the plate of ssamjang. “That’s right! Yoongi, didn’t you say you needed something interesting as a center piece for the dining table? Maybe Namjoon can help you with that!”

Namjoon flushes, waving his hands and shaking his head fervently. “Ah, no! I don’t think I can help you with that. I’m sure you can ask plenty of other professionals who are more capable than I am.”

“No, Namjoon. You should help them,” Hoseok quips. He’s got a pout on his face, causing his cheeks to bunch up cutely. Like a fucked up squirrel, Jungkook thinks petulantly, hating how childish he was being but unable to stop. He steals a look at you to see that you’re staring at Hoseok, too. Hoseok pumps his fist up, “Namjoon’s great! He’s just being humble, that’s all.”

“I’ll be sure to ask you for help then, Namjoon.” Yoongi smiles wide, his pink gums appearing for the first time that night. It’s the kind of smile that makes you feel good, like being praised without words. Emboldened by Yoongi’s kindness, Namjoon smiles back, his previously dejection slowly washing away.

Jungkook feels betrayed. He can’t stand sitting in this room anymore, not when all his friends, most especially you, were being so buddy-buddy with this new unwelcome addition to your party. He puts down his chopsticks onto his dish, standing up and making his way over to the kitchen sink.

“Kook? What’s wrong?” You stand up as well, walking towards him. When you reach out to touch his shoulder, he accidentally slaps your hand away on instinct, head fuzzy with too many thoughts. You gasp, cradling your hand to your chest even though he hadn’t hit you that hard. You were mostly shocked, not used to seeing Jungkook so… touchy, and for seemingly no apparent reason. If only you knew, he thinks to himself.

“I have to go. Stomach ache,” is all he says before he’s grabbing his coat from the rack and shoving on his boots. He grabs his car keys, unwilling to turn around to see the expressions on all your faces. “I’m heading to the pharmacy. See you.” He slams the door shut behind him, leaving you more confused and hurt than ever before.

“Well, this sucks, huh?” Seokjin nudges Taehyung with his foot. Taehyung, to his credit, jabs Seokjin straight in the balls.

“Back to the drawing board,” he sighs to himself, rubbing his temples as the elder groans obscenities back at him. This is going to be harder than he thought.

#yoonkooknetwork #bts social media au #bts scenarios #bts texts #bts fake texts #bts imagines #bts x reader #bts #jungkook scenarios #namjoon scenarios #jungkook fake texts #namjoon fake texts #jungkook fanfiction #namjoon fanfiction #jungkook x reader #namjoon x reader #jeon jungkook #kim namjoon #bangtan

[bat-connoisseur]

The Depths

ignore the janky title, I’m bad at thinking them up. Another fic for @hermitcraftheadcanons ‘s Scattered AU! This AU has grabbed me by the horns and it’s no thoughts just this AU rn. Anyway, this fic is focused on Xisuma, and his unfortunate experiences down in the depths of the world. Yet another death loop, but of a different nature to Impulse’s.

Cw// Starvation, descriptions of violence, implied blood, sensory overload adjacent stuff, reduced senses. If you need anything else tagged, let me know!

Xisuma shuddered, his armour rattling just a bit too loud for his liking, as he crept through the twisting caverns he’d found himself in. The path he’d been carving out between starving to death lay just up ahead, all he had to do to get to it was navigate the small section of The Deep Dark it had cut into. It was too dangerous to dig here, so he had to just sneak through to where the path continued at it’s end. His head throbbed where his helmet, still dented and damaged from his first expedition through here, jabbed it’s sharp, misshapen edges into his head. He wanted to take it off with every fibre of his being, but he couldn’t. Not here. They way it muffled his breathing was all too valuable when the slightest sound could spell death. He could put up with the temporary pain if it meant getting to his tunnel, and getting digging again. It would be worth it in the end.

He couldn’t see further then a few feet ahead of him, but his ears were pricked for the slightest sound. There was a spot somewhere high above him that water leaked through, and every drop that splattered messily against the dark, stone floor startled him, setting him on edge. Even so, progress was fairly smooth, if slow through this little slice of darkness, deep below the world, and it gave him some kind of idea of his location. He was very far underground, that was no surprise, and absolutely nowhere near 0,0, where the spawn chunks of this world should be. He knew the same was true of everyone else, too. He’d spent many long hours, huddled in some cramped, dark crevice of a cave, staring despairingly down at his communicator as the deaths stacked up, as he tried to type a message, only for nothing to happen, as he fumbled and struggled to access his admin panel, trying and failing to achieve anything. He’d just sat there, overwhelmed by his newfound helplessness and uselessness until he had starved to death for the first time.

After that, he had resolved that if he couldn’t fix this through commands, he’d have to find another way. And the first step to that was getting out of these caves.

He’d been carving out a path by hand, spoilt for Cobble but with no access to wood in any capacity unable to use it. There were no mineshafts to speak of, only miles and miles of twisting, identical caves as far as he could walk. To save himself the trouble of getting lost, he’d punched out a path, trying to escape the cave system so he could finally start digging up.

That was how he’d ended up in the deep dark.

At first the change of scenery had been nice, even if it was simply trading the dark tunnels for an even darker ravine. He’d amused himself with the skulk sensors, chucking rocks at them and watching them twitch. He wasn’t sure why he had been so blatantly careless. Exhaustion, perhaps? Hunger? Either way, the noise hadn’t gone unnoticed for long. Xisuma remembered the moment the Warden stalked into view, too quiet for it’s size. He remembered the gaping jaws, the exposed heart. He remembered the crackling, sparking shower of pain as it hit him square in the head, as he was knocked back into the rocky walls, how the skulk sensors almost laughed as they picked up the sound of his panicked, pained cry-

Xisuma forced the memories out of his mind, shaking his head and pausing to lean against the wall. Dwelling on these unpleasant memories was going to get him nowhere, and he flipped up the visor of his helmet to rub at his tired eyes, sighing as softly as he could. As he pushed himself up off from the wall, however, he heard a noise. His breath, already soft in his throat, hitched, and he flipped the visor down with a soft click that seemed to fill his senses. Too loud. He became acutely aware of his breathing, suppressing it as much as he could and freezing up as the Warden lumbered into view, it’s antlers twitching. It was like some nightmarish deer, stopping beside him and turning an eyeless face in his direction.

Xisuma found himself shaking as the Warden took a step towards him, face inches from his own. X glanced to the side, able to see the blissfully safe 1-wide entrance to his tunnel from here. It was so enticingly close, yet painfully far. The Warden stayed still, antlers twitching as they picked up sounds too soft for X to hear. He was fairly certain it was listening to the desperate sound of his racing heart.

From a few feet up the cave, a water droplet dripped from the ceiling, the sound of it hitting the floor magnified tenfold by Xisuma’s fear.

The Warden heard it too, and turned, lumbering towards it. Every muscle in X’s body screamed at him to run, but he stayed put, waiting for the Warden to get further away as it advanced on the small puddle formed from the dripping.

Just a few more seconds. He told himself, staving off the urge to scream, ignoring the bile rising in his throat. Wait for it to reach the puddle, then- he cut himself off as the Warden was finally far enough away, and he sprinted for his tunnel. He heard the Warden turn and begin the sprint after him, far too fast for it’s size. It was gaining on him. He felt it’s great fist miss him by a hair, and he threw himself into his tunnel, falling to the floor in a messy heap, and flinching as the Warden smacked into the wall, too large to get in after him. X drew himself up, inching as far from the beast as he could, watching it as it reached into the cave, unwilling to give him up.

X no longer tried to suppress his fear, shaking, breathing hard, borderline sobbing from horror and relief at his newfound safety, tearing the uncomfortable helmet from his already bruising head. He didn’t move from his prone position on the floor until the Warden finally, mercifully, gave up chase, and disappeared off into the darkness of the cavern. Ready for him on his next, inevitable journey through the hostile cave. He finally allowed himself to relax somewhat as he ventured further into his tunnel, still shaking, climbing the staircase he’d began to carve into the rock slowly. He could feel the probing daggers of hunger beginning to needle into his stomach, but a quick check told him he still had a few hours before he starved.

And so X got to work, dutifully clawing away at solid rock with his hands, progress slow and painful, working until his body gave out, collapsing in a pile from bitter, agonising hunger, and he had to go back and do it all over again.

Unbeknownst to Xisuma, however, a lush cave sat just blocks from where he’d last collapsed. It’s inhabitant had noticed the sound of breaking blocks, just feet from where he had been lying since spawning into this broken world. Jevin gathered himself up from where he was, slightly dispersed in the water of a small pool, and began digging, taking out the final few blocks that separated him from Xisuma’s tunnel. The walls were stained and uneven, and he recoiled at the sorry state of it, at the new draught of cold it swept in from the deep dark. He sunk deeper into the warm pool, half tempted to block it back up, but something stopped him. He could still see a few beads of XP sitting in that hole, and he flipped open his communicator to see the latest deaths.

Xisumavoid starved to death

Jevin felt a small bud of happiness starting to bloom somewhere deep in his chest. Xisuma! Together maybe they stood a chance of getting out of this underground prison. Maybe together, they could save not only themselves, but their poor, forsaken friends.

It was with this little, desperate hope that Jevin sat, watching the tunnel with great interest, until he heard pained, heavy breathing coming from within, and a small exclamation of confusion as X saw the faint light filtering in from the lush cave. Jevin sat up, calling out a greeting to the tired admin, but recoiled as he felt something he was unfamiliar with. An urge that disturbed him deeply, alien to him as it coiled it’s tendrils around his mind and intentions. And as Xisuma climbed up and into the lush cave, Jevin found himself lunging at X, the intent to kill twisting his mind and commanding his body.

Xisumavoid was slain by Ijevin

That’s all from this fic, I hope you enjoyed it! I have no idea how much it complies to canon, but I do like the idea of Jevin and X finding each other, both being like ‘heck yeah another person!’ and then Jevin’s slime kicking in and him just fuckin curb-stomping Xisuma before he can stop himself.

#Hermitcraft #Scattered au #cw starvation #cw violence #cw sensory deprivation #Xisuma #Ijevin #not as bleak as the last story but actually way more similar then intended i wonder how that happened #yet another ow im dying wait a friend uh on im dying again situation #ig it just makes for good angst lol

[fanfictasia]

Whumptober Day 28

Nightmares / Panic 

Spoiler: This is an excerpt from Gates of Hell. ^-^

The landscape is glowing red and orange, the oppressive heat from the lava rivers ever-present, even if Vader can’t feel it through his armor. He knows it’s there, just as he knows that he’ll never be able to forget this planet. Mustafar is a living hell. It’s where Jedi go to die. It’s where he went to die. Movement catches his eye, and he turns. Anakin is standing right next to him, expression filled with uncertainty and uneasiness.

“I don’t like this planet,” Anakin comments with a shudder. There’s a feel of foreboding in the air, and Vader doesn’t like it. The Force is humming with wrongness, and it sets him on edge.

“Anakin!” They both start when they hear the voice that they’ll never forget. Obi-Wan steps through the smoke and haze, a disapproving, disappointed look in his blue-gray eyes as he looks between the two. No, Vader realizes, this is not Obi-Wan, his Obi-Wan. This is Anakin’s former master. “How could you?” Kenobi’s voice is accusing, pained, and though it’s not directed at him, the words are like a knife to the heart. Vader thinks he would have broken down and begged his master for forgiveness on his knees had Obi-Wan come to him with disappointment instead of anger so many years ago.

“I –” Anakin chokes, stumbling back as a small vibroblade hurdles through the air, embedding itself in his chest. He looks down at it blankly for a moment as his legs give out and he falls to the ground.

“No!” screams Vader, dropping to his knees, reaching out to touch Anakin, uncertain what he can even do for him. He doesn’t – he can’t – Anakin can’t die. He can’t lose him. It’s too soon for both of them. They’re so young still, and the galaxy needs them. “Anakin,” he says pleadingly, reaching for the Force and pouring it into the body of the younger man as he lays dying on the edge of a lava river on Mustafar. No. Why is this happening? Not again. Are they, in every lifetime, destined to perish here?

“You cannot die.” Vader doesn’t care that he’s begging. He strokes the younger man’s curls, silently willing him to live as panic and fear begin to choke him.

“S’okie,” Anakin whispers, reaching out to clasp one of Vader’s hands, though his own betrayal is drowning him; Vader can feel it. Kenobi is the only other one here. He was the one who threw the vibroblade. There’s no one else who could have.

“You were the Chosen One!” Kenobi yells, unmoving. He seems completely unfazed by the fact that his Padawan is dying. “It was said that you would destroy the Sith, not join them, bring balance to the Force, not leave it in darkness.”

Vader flinches. Those are the words that have haunted his nightmares. They probably always will. He’d never felt like more of a failure than he did in that moment, and a small part of himself has desperately craved the ability to prove himself to Obi-Wan, even after everything. He hates it. He hates that he can still love the man who put him in this life-support suit even more. He hates himself for being so weak.

His pain echoes into the Force, and it’s as if it’s being magnified tenfold. Pain – emotional and physical – dulls his senses, and he can almost feel the flames consuming him devouring him once more. With a jolt, Vader wakes up, respirator cycling faster than normal as it attempts to keep up with his distress. This is why he doesn’t like sleeping. When he sleeps, he dreams, and all he sees are nightmares and flashes of times long gone.

#star wars #star wars fanfiction #fanfiction #whumptober #whumptober 2021 #whumptober day 28 #day 28 #anakin skywalker #darth vader #anakin and vader #obi-wan kenobi #nightmare #panic #anakin #vader #obi-wan #day twenty eight #vader needs a hug #anakin needs a hug #angst

[janekfan]

Chronic

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27802141

Thank you @taylortut for helping me!!!

Jon looked at the clock.

537.

The glowing numbers burned themselves into his retinas. How had it been less than an hour since last he’d checked? No use for it. Better to get himself up and ready for work. But he’d closed his eyes against the headache blaring like a klaxon and he’d have to open them again at some point.

Taking advantage of his lonely flat, Jon allowed himself to indulge the noise pushing its way through grit teeth as he maneuvered his sore legs from under the quilt. He sat a moment, pressing the bare soles of his feet on the cold floor and levering his heavy body upright with a shaking arm.

Exhausted.

And it’s only--a quick glance.

544.

The hell was wrong with him?

Since just before accepting the position as Head Archivist, and rightly pissing off both Sasha and Tim on her behalf, Jon felt like he’d been constantly coming down with something. Dizzy and nauseous and unable to eat, he was chronically exhausted and while he’d never slept well at the best of times, it was evading him more than ever.

And there were his mornings. Struggling to motivate himself out of bed, brushing his teeth with his eyes closed and leaning against the wall. Deciding he could forgo a shower just once more and choosing instead to make breakfast. Forcing himself to eat a piece of dry toast with his heart hammering away in his throat and half laying on the table, panting through his tea. Mentally, Jon prepared himself for the walk to the train, automatically going for his cane because lord knew he needed the support.

He’d get to the Institute hours early.

At least that made him look good?

Taking advantage of being a cane user, Jon opted for a reserved seat, the guilt at truly needing one eating away at his insides. But there were black spots at the corners of his vision and he had to sit down before he fell down and the guilt is a far sight better than causing a scene. The trip was too short. His chest ached from the constant pounding and he pressed the hand not holding his cane for dear life against his breastbone. It didn’t help but the pressure and touch grounded him enough to stand up. To head to the cross street. To wait for the lights to change. To stagger down the stairs and into his office, to drop into his desk chair and focus on every breath of air moving into his body and back out of it.

Jon put his head down. There was no one here. Wouldn’t be for a couple hours yet and he was exhausted, shaking from it. Nauseated. There wasn’t a fever. He’d gone as far as to purchase a thermometer to be certain when the strange symptoms refused to abate no matter how often he let himself rest, no matter the meals he tried his damndest to eat, the water he drank down. He was trying. Jon couldn’t remember ever taking such good care of himself and of course it refused to pay off. In Uni, he’d driven himself into the ground with little consequence. He’d maintained those habits until a few months ago and now--

Muffled voices drifted through his door, the rise and fall of easy conversation. The kind he’d once been allowed to partake in. Laughter filled the air and while Jon wished to join them he knew he wasn’t welcome.

Why had he done it?

Why hadn’t he refused Elias?

Because you’re selfish. You’ve always been selfish. Needy. Greedy, grasping, always striving to know answers and never satisfied with what you're given. You take what you don’t deserve.

Reluctantly, Jon stood, slowly, because doing anything quickly these days has him ducking his head between his legs or waking up on the floor without any recollection of how he came to be there. He could at least collect their research in person, greet them. Try to be the boss they deserved.

Sasha was the boss they deserved.

“Ah, g’good morning.”

“Jon!” Martin, smiling shyly. “You’re here so early!” He began to stammer and Jon’s legs began to ache. This wasn’t a good day. They seldom were anymore. “I m’mean, of course y’you are, you work very hard!” Martin was saved by Tim swinging an arm around his shoulders.

“You’ve broken ‘im, boss.” A flush rose in Jon’s cheeks. He could feel it. “No worries, Marto. He’s always been an early riser.” While it was said in jest, the tone settled heavy in Jon’s chest, directly beside the pain blossoming like a thorny rose. Luckily, he was rescued by Rosie, standing halfway down the stairs and informing him that Elias requested him in his office. Jon didn’t relish the climb, no matter how grateful he was to escape out from underneath Sash’s heavy gaze. She had every right and he would bear his punishment in silence until she chose, if she ever did, to forgive him.

An indeterminate amount of time later, Jon limped out of Elias’ office without any recollection of what they’d spoken about or if he’d even spoken at all. Thumping pain and panic and he knew he was rude to ignore Rosie at her desk but he wasn’t in any shape to hold a conversation, fairly certain that he wasn’t able to currently speak, far too focused on trying to hide how ill he was. But every sound was magnified tenfold in his ears and he could barely remember where the door to the archives was with the way his head reeled and spun. Jon wanted to sink to the ground once he had the door between himself and the lobby but he’d never make it to his feet again after that. Push through, he told himself. Get to your desk. He allowed himself a moment, two, just to put his head to rights, to try and breathe through the battering of his pulse.

And oh god he wasn’t going to make it and he wondered if somehow Elias knew. It was as though he’d kept him standing there talking about nothing until Jon hit his limit, knowing he wouldn’t have the strength to get back to his office.

But he had to try and he’d almost gotten down the ridiculously narrow stairwell before he forgot nearly entirely why he was there in the first place. Was he going up? Down? Meeting with someone? Just arriving? He could barely breathe and the panic welling in his throat was choking and the black was crawling over his eyes and the dizziness only increased and he needed...needed…

For a moment, Jon didn’t recognize where he was, the migraine, the fuzziness, conspiring against memory and reason. But he knew this color, the hideous lick of paint some contractor had splashed over the walls a lifetime ago.

Breakroom?

Wha--

“Jon!” He winced, his own name like broken glass shredding every sense to ribbons. “Christ, are you alright?” Martin, the sounds he made were shrill, grating, and if he’d been able to tell him to be silent, he would have. “We heard the noise--you’d, you fainted! On the stairs! Luckily it was only the last few.” Jon blinked, dull and dumb, forcing himself up, up, up, and through heavy mist and fog in his search for words. Weary to the marrow of his aching bones, Jon slumped on the cushions and tried to think of a way to stop Martin’s incessant chattering. Tim and Sasha, alerted most likely by all the commotion, stood over him and he craned his neck up to look at them. Tim especially looked furious.

“You could have been seriously hurt!”

“S’sorry…” And he was, between his rabbiting heartbeat, throbbing migraine, and difficulty drawing breath into his exhausted lungs, he wanted to cry with how sorry he was.

“This is ridiculous. You need to take better care of yourself.” Jon wasn’t sure why the sting from Tim’s accusation cut so deep and he hung his head, biting trembling lips to prevent the tears threatening to spring free.

It wasn’t fair.

By all accounts he was taking care of himself. More than ever!

“Did you even eat today? Drink anything?” He nodded, miserable, unwell, and equipped with no better answers than the truth.

“Tim. He’s just come to.” The understanding was the final straw, and Jon’s sight blurred with salt damp. “I’ll make sure he eats something before going back to work.”

“Alright, Martin. If he gives you any trouble, call.” At Jon, he pointed. “And you, no trouble.” And he nodded miserably.

“Okay, they’ve gone.” The familiar sounds of the kettle heating filled the room, the clink of a pair of ceramic mugs, the rustling of the tea bags, Martin’s distracted murmuring, all combined to calm him. “How long have you been feeling this way?” Jon looked up, surprised, and shrugged one shoulder, accepting the small plate of biscuits and nibbling slowly and when he finished those, Martin offered up the tea. Sitting with him in companionable quiet, he sipped on his own cup. Nothing more was exchanged and when Jon finished he thanked Martin for the company and locked himself away.

Jon was at wit’s end. Nothing he tried seemed to improve anything and the few times he did speak with a doctor, he was sent away with the same, useless advice, or worse, told he was imagining things, making it up, having panic attacks even though he was familiar with those and this was not that.

Work was a nightmare made even more miserable with the overwhelming amount of paperwork, statements, boxes, misfiled folders and envelopes and items and Jon missed the easy camaraderie and understanding he’d had with Sasha and Tim. Maybe he should resign, try and salvage what little of the relationship they still had, or, or invite them out for dinner, his treat, but Elias would never let him quit and the very idea of entertaining exhausted him. A cuppa appeared at his elbow filled with something new, something floral and slightly sweet, accompanied, as always, by a few biscuits.

“That’s a lot of work, Jon.” He sipped, grateful, lifting an eyebrow in response.

“I knew it would be when I accepted this position.” Undeterred, Martin stumbled forward.

“Y’yeah, I mean, you would have. Of course. I just--” A breath. “I’ve finished with my other assignments, ready for round, uh. Well, another round!”

“Ah. Alright, I’ll bring something over when I pick up your translations.” Martin took back the cup, nodding enthusiastically, and Jon appreciated that it was business as usual, selecting a few he’d been putting off and making his way toward his assistants ignoring inquiring looks in favor of taking the chair Martin offered up to go over his expectations. Short, succinct. A few notes on one translation, advice to remember for next time, and Jon felt reasonably confident Martin could handle himself. It wasn’t until he’d gotten back to his office that Jon realized that was the first time he’d been offered a chair. It was becoming apparent that Martin was good at noticing the little things about them. A blush heated his cheeks and he tried to rub it away, feeling ridiculous that such a small act of kindness made him feel so seen.

Jon pushed forward, ignoring the warnings his body was trying to give him in favor of plowing through his work like he’d always done, and by the time he made it home, was on the verge of collapse. Hot tears of frustration stung at the corners of his eyes, spilling over when Jon allowed himself to feel it. More than anything, he was used to having control over himself, working when he wanted, burying himself in the research, devouring knowledge. Now he was at the whim of his physical form. Paying more attention to it than ever before and never knowing if he was going to wake up and have a good day or a bad day and it was maddening. Managing whatever it was without knowing what it was, was impossible with no rhyme or reason he could discern.

So in the absence of both, Jon kept shoving his way through how difficult it was because if he could just be normal through pretending everything was normal, then it would be.

Jon knew Tim was cross with him and managed to avoid him for most of the day, taking breaks here and there like he’d promised Martin he would do. But his luck, while it had been holding steady, had just run out and he found himself cornered in the breakroom.

“What do you think you’re on about?” Frustration had long since turned to outrage, boiling over.

“Tim, I. I’m not sure what you mean--”

“Damn it, Jon! You’ve already taken on a job you aren’t fit for! You can’t keep heaping your work onto Martin and then swanning off!”

“That’s.” He balled his hands into fists, nails biting crescent moons into his palms. How could he explain when even the doctors thought he was making it all up? Heat rushed through him, top to toe, flushing his face and he wavered, legs threatening to buckle, vision threatening to go dark. He was going to pass out a second time today if he didn’t sit down. But that would mean walking away from Tim, and he didn’t think the man would let him. At least not until he was done telling him off. Better to be silent. Try not to pay attention to how erratic the persistent beating caged behind fragile ribs had become.

“Why didn’t you say no?” Because he wanted to be useful. Because Elias made him feel like he was capable even if he wasn’t. “Why didn’t you just let Sasha have this?” Because he was an awful, selfish person. “God, Jon. Why did you drag us all down here with you?”

Because he was lonely.

Because they’d been friends. Once.

Rather than remind Tim that he was free to go at any time, that he and Sash hadn’t been forced or coerced into accepting positions here in the archives, Jon pressed his lips into a thin line.

“Well?!” Sharp, strident, Tim’s shout echoed around in the space between his own hurting, agonal breaths in his ears.

“I. I, I need to si’down…” wanted to lay down. Wanted to sleep, trembling with exhaustion, about to go down.

“What?” Lashes fluttering as he gripped the thread of consciousness with both hands, he barely registered Tim’s hands around his shoulders, guiding him into a chair and pushing his head down between his knees. “Jon?”

“M’okay…”

“You are clearly not.” A wide palm settled on his back, keeping him folded over. It was helping.

“S’mm...been. S’fine.” The floor came back into focus, all the little cracks and imperfections and Jon counted the streaks in the pattern in an attempt to ground himself but kept losing track of the number. Neither moved until Jon attempted to sit up, slowly, accepting Tim’s help.

“Jon?” He looked spooked, pale. “Please, what’s going on?” His hand settled in the crux of shoulder and neck, thumb ghosting along his clammy skin, and Jon allowed himself to find a morsel of comfort in the familiar gesture, the threat of tears closer than ever. So he reached for him.

“I don’t know.” And Tim pulled away as if burned, the frustration and anger rising in his face again, and Jon was bereft. “T’truly! I--”

“Why won’t you be honest with me? Don’t you trust me?” Standing, he took a step backwards, away from him, the hurt in him a palpable thing. “We’re supposed to be friends!”

Yes. They were friends. It was most likely why for the first time in a long while, the pain in his chest wasn’t a physical ache.

“Tim, I.” Fingers folded to fists to rest on his knees. But he was already gone.

“Jon!” Tentative, Martin lifted his chin. “Oh, oh.” Having been crying, Jon figured his eyes were red-rimmed and puffy and he didn’t bother attempting to hide the evidence. “Alright.” Martin went about making tea, chamomile, herbal and calming, placing it before him on the table with a chocolate digestive. “Drink this down and then go home. It’s half six.”

“Mm.”

“Sleep will help.”

“Mm.”

“I could speak to them for you. If--”

“No!” All but shouted. “No. That won’t be necessary, Martin.” Carefully he stood, paused. “Thank you.” And left.

Jon called off.

Called off again.

Again.

Apologized to Elias in a curt email requesting leave and was granted it.

He ignored his phone. His texts. The knock at the door and Martin’s voice behind it. He slept when he was tired and he was tired often and it was easier besides, to finally listen to the screaming of his body. It was after hours on his fifth day gone when Tim let himself in with the spare key to Jon’s flat.

“Hey.” Sheepish, he held up his hands in surrender, a bag of takeaway from Jon’s favorite place dangling from one. “Martin said you wouldn’t let him in.” Dressed in the most comfortable clothes he had, which were also the shabbiest, Jon glared at him from where he laid on the couch. “I was an arse.” Slowly, he sat up, making Tim wait on purpose, a powerful frown still aimed in his direction.

“You were.” He was aware he looked a mess, greasy hair pulled back in a sloppy bun, but he felt a sight better for the rest he’d gotten.

“Would you accept an apology?” Folding his arms, Jon leaned back into the cushions and fixed his stare at whatever rubbish was on the telly.

“Might do.” Silently, Tim scurried into the tiny kitchen and Jon listened to the familiar sounds of him rooting around for cutlery. It smelled delicious and comforting, a reminder of nights spent together laughing at nothing on this same couch and despite himself, Jon began to relax.

“I’m sorry.”

“Alright.” Tim’s face split in a wide, relieved grin, and he flopped down next to him, planting a loud kiss to his temple before urging him to eat. “Martin sent you here.”

“An angry Marto is not to be trifled with.” Through a mouthful of noodles, Tim chuffed in laughter. “Wouldn’t tell me anything, other than to stop being a prick.”

“He did not.”

“He did not. But it was more than implied!” He put his bowl on the low table in front of them, sitting forward with his hands dangling between his knees. “And he was right. I didn’t give you a fair shake and accused you of awful things. And I know you’re doing your best at this job.”

“Gertrude isn’t making it easy.”

“Neither is your health, I take it.” Jon set his own meal aside, curling into the padded arm.

“No. It isn’t.”

“And you don’t know what’s causing it?”

“I know some things that help. M’Martin has been invaluable.”

“Has he, now?”

“Leave off!”

“Okay, okay.” But he continued giggling as Jon felt his face go hot, muttering.

“He really has.” This time Tim pulled him gently into an embrace.

“Then Sash and I will just have to catch up.”

#tma #the magnus archives #jon sims #tim stoker #martin blackwood #sasha james #cane user jon sims #archivist with a cane #chronic illness #undiagnosed #pots #fainting #exhaustion #anxiety #hurt/comfort #internalized ableism

[tempesrature]

IDOL | Chapter 5 [Unfinished]

Platinum x Ride or Die (AU) Crossover

Pairings: (Major) Ride or Die | Logan x Ellie (Minor) Platinum | M!Raleigh x Cadence Warnings: PG13+ Word Count: 11k+ A/N: I can’t even begin to apologize that I’m leaving this story unfinished. I tried to finish it, I really did but school is just so heavy right now that I barely have time to do anything else. And as I’ve said, the passion isn’t there anymore. I’ll post up to whatever I’ve written and if given the time, I’ll definitely come back to finish it. If you decide to drop this story, I completely understand. I’m sorry that I let you down :(  @troublemakerinspace @raleiighcarrera @harrys-wheezys @raleeeighcarreras

“Wow, when you said you’d pick me up I thought you meant your manager was going to drive us.”

“The option was definitely there,” Logan grins as he pushes himself off of the yellow and black-striped 2005 Devore GT to stand in front of her. “But I thought it would be nice if I drive.”

Ellie chuckles as she makes her way to the passenger’s door and takes her seat just as Logan slides into the driver’s seat.

“Are you a good driver?” Ellie asks teasingly as she buckles her seatbelt. “If I get into a car accident and Mona finds out, she’ll call the ambulance and tell it to turn around.”

“I’m a great driver,” Logan chuckles as he revs the engine and he pulls out into the road. “Do you trust me?”

Ellie blinks at him for a moment before a smile tugs on her lips. “Weirdly enough, yes.”

The smile on Logan’s face strums the little tiny strings of her heart. It’s absurd how good he looks behind the wheel. If he was handsome during the any normal setting, it’s magnified by tenfold at how easy and comfortable he is as he drives. She tries not to stare at him, telling herself that she has set ground rules for how she’ll interact with Logan, but she seems to be breaking them every minute she’s in his presence.

“As an honored guest of the Devore, you have the privilege of picking the song.”

Ellie chuckles as she pulls out her phone and scrolls through her playlist. “Do you treat every passenger like this?”

“Only the pretty ones,” He glances at her with a devilish smile and a small wink.

She ducks her head to hide away the blush before her eyes light up at the instrumental track of Candy. She had asked Micah to send it to her so she could practice a little on her own before promotions truly start and they’ll have to start appearing on TV to sing it. She clicks on the song and the intro of the synth fills the car and a smile pulls on Logan’s lips.

“Logan, let’s do it live.”

“Huh?”

Logan barely has time to register her words when she starts to sing the intro of the song as she dances and does small body rolls in time with the beat. Logan lets out a laugh and he glances at her in amusement as he listens to her and waits for his cue.

Their voices fill the inside of the car—teasing, playful, flirty—and Ellie feels light and free. She’s never had this before, someone she can sing along with without the pressure of hitting the right note or conveying the right emotions. Even when she’s singing with Raleigh or Cadence, there’s always a certain standard she has to hold herself around them. After all, her voice croaking in front of those two would send her into a spiral of embarrassment.

But she doesn’t have the same worry with Logan.

Cadence had told her of this feeling—the feeling of being able to sing with someone that you’re so in tune with that it feels natural when there’s only you, the other person and the music. Cadence said that she has that with Raleigh.

And now…Ellie can admit a little that she just might have it with Logan.

The fourth verse comes in and he glances at her briefly, their gaze locking, and she grins as they sing out the next lines together in a perfect blend of light and husky.

I say, I want to be clear and simple I want to adjust just for you, oh yeah I'll give you something original I know how complicated you are

Logan attempts the sustained high note in the bridge and Ellie rolls her eyes because of course he still has excellent breathing control and can let out a perfect G#4 note even while seating down. At this point, Ellie feels like there’s nothing this guy can’t do.

The song finally finishes the last of its note and the playlist jumps to the next song on her list, a slow and soothing song from Cadence’s new album. A comfortable silence settles between them and Ellie is once again amazed that even in the silence, it doesn’t feel awkward or stifled.

“I’m probably the luckiest fan in the world,” Logan says as he turns into an intersection. “I get to hear you sing live with only me as the audience.”

Ellie smiles. “Don’t sell yourself short. I’m pretty lucky to hear you sing live as well. You have a great voice.”

“Thanks,” He chuckles a little as he stops at a red light. “I��m really glad that I got to do this collab with you Ellie.”

“Me too,” She leans back and lays her head on the window. “Which reminds me. I never got to ask. Why the sudden genre shift? The song’s great but it’s not your usual release.”

Logan nods with a small smile, a look of apprehension crossing his face in a blink of a second.

“I really don’t like my songs. I just got roped into singing it because it sells,” He takes one hand off of wheel and gestures to himself. “Along with the whole heartbroken bad boy image.”

Ellie nods and looks at him sadly. It’s not that uncommon for companies to completely have control over an artists sound and image. It’s usually for younger and newer artists where they have no power to truly choose what they want to do with their music. She was lucky than when she started out, she had Raleigh and Cadence backing her so whatever musical direction she was going to venture into was going to be supported by two music industry giants. But for artists like Logan? They’re perpetually bound to whatever their producers want for them until they can somehow break out of the image without alienating their current fans. Fortunately for Logan, their collab single ‘Candy’ is a big hit. Maybe this will even open up the path for him to finally sing songs he actually likes.

“Are you saying that you’ve never had your heart broken then?” She teases. “Is that why you can’t fully commit to the heartbroken bad boy image?”

“Maybe I’m the one that breaks hearts,” Logan says, his voice almost pained, before the light turns green and he drives. “Or maybe I just don’t like the bad boy title.”

Ellie chuckles a little. “Yeah it’s pretty outdated. Plus, if you can’t hold yourself to the same standard as Raleigh Carrera then why even try?”

“What? Property damage and grand theft auto?” He smirks. “I could totally do that.”

“Hey! The courts cleared that up, the car was legit,” She laughs and leans back on the seat. “It created a shitstorm in the company though and any car he wants to buy has to go through the suits now. Cadence was not happy.”

“I’ll bet,” Logan snickers as he pulls up to the restaurant he had recommended to Ellie the night before. “Cadence seems like she doesn’t take any of Raleigh’s shit.”

“You have no idea,” Ellie chuckles as she unbuckles her seatbelt and gets out of the car. “But I guess that’s what makes them work.”

“Yeah?” Logan grins as he opens the glass door for her.

“Yeah,” She looks around the restaurant and sees that it’s practically empty except for them. “Uh…you sure this place is open?”

“Yeah it’s owned by—Vaughn!” Logan turns to walk to Vaughn coming out of the kitchen and gives him a hug.

“Logan!” Vaughn exclaims as he returns Logan’s hug and looks over to where Ellie is standing. “Woah, you brought your girlfriend? I thought you were bringing Ellie over.”

Ellie tries to rein in the blush on her cheeks but fails miserably as Logan stands next to her.

“This is Ellie,” He turns to look at her with an apologetic smile. “Sorry about him, he’s clueless when it comes to anything other than cooking.”

Ellie smiles as she steps forward and offers her hand. “Nice to meet you Vaughn. Are you Logan’s friend?”

“Cousin more like it,” Logan corrects with a fond smile.

“We ain’t actually related. But we’re family. Known each other for a long time,” Vaughn replies as he motions to the empty restaurant. “Pick a seat! I’ll have the specials right out.”

Logan turns to look at Ellie expectantly as he points to the table hidden away from the glass windows. They take their seats across each other and Ellie is only now realizing how much all of this feels like a date. She banishes those thoughts as quickly as they came, this is just a casual hanging out with a potential friend and co-worker. That’s all there is.

“So, do you always clear out restaurants when you bring girls out for lunch?”

Ellie cringes at herself and groans internally. She was thinking it of course but she didn’t expect herself to outright say it.

“Not often,” Logan replies with a smile. “This place is pretty popular. I had to ask some serious favors from Vaughn so we could have it for ourselves today.”

Ellie smiles a little. “You didn’t have to, you know. I would’ve been fine either way.”

“I was thinking that a thousand pair of eyes constantly glancing at you while you eat would be uncomfortable.”

Ellie chuckles as she tucks her hair behind her ear. “You overestimate how much I get recognized in public. People rarely ever notice.”

“Liar,” Logan grins. “I would’ve noticed you from a thousand miles away.”

Ellie grimaces a little as she looks at him teasingly. “Not to be rude but are you always this…flirty?”

Logan laughs as he looks at her face earnestly. “Can’t help myself I guess.”

Ellie rolls her eyes a little. Perhaps that’s why it’s so difficult for her to stick to the rules and guidelines she’s set up for Logan when he seems to be so adept at making her break them.

The ping of Logan’s phone cuts through the silence and he grabs it from the table, astonishment and awe taking hold of his face.

“Woah,” Logan says as he turns his phone to her. “Looks like Candy has 80 million views on PlayMe now.”

“Seriously?!” Ellie exclaims as she takes his phone and stares at the number below the video. “This is insane.”

“Yeah I didn’t think it would be this popular…” Logan says in awe before his face softens.

“I did,” Ellie grins as she hands him his phone back. “And not just because of me by the way. The song is really great Logan. You should write your own stuff more often.”

“After this, maybe I’ll finally be able to,” Logan looks at her gratefully. “Thanks Ellie. You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this.”

“No problem. I really meant what I said back then. About how I can help you out and be your friend. If you ever need help just hit me up and—” Ellie’s eyes flick to the ringing of her phone and her eyebrows shoot up in surprise when she sees Mona’s name flashing on the screen. She had already informed Mona that she’ll be taking the day off so this call must be important. “Sorry it’s my manager. I’ll be quick.”

Logan nods. “Take your time.”

Ellie nods as she grabs her phone and moves a little ways away from their table before she takes the call.

“Mona hi, what’s up?”

“Are you with Logan?”

Ellie’s eyebrows furrow in confusion and absolute fear. She hadn’t said anything about why she wanted a day off. Was Mona just this good? Was someone tailing her?

“Uh…yes,” She replies as she looks around the restaurant in apprehension in case she’ll see Mona suddenly pop out of nowhere. “But its just lunch I swear! And we’re both sober and we’ll stay sober. I’m not up to trouble—”

“I don’t care about that, put me on loud speaker. I need to talk to you both and make sure you’re alone.”

“To us…both?” Ellie asks as she confusingly makes her way back to the table. Logan looks at her with a question in his eyes just as she takes her seat again. Ellie shrugs before she pulls the phone away from her ear, puts in on loud speaker and places it in the middle of the table. “You’re on loud speaker Mona.”

“Good. Logan, can you hear me?”

“Uh yeah I can,” Logan looks to Ellie for answers but Ellie merely shakes her head signaling that she doesn’t know either. “What can I do for you?”

“I’ll cut right to the chase. With how popular Candy’s release is, the company has approved the music video. We’ll start production in two weeks.”

“Seriously?!” Ellie exclaims as she shares an excited and happy look with Logan. “That’s great news Mona!”

“Yeah and one more thing. We need you both in a fake relationship to drum up the release of the music video. I already went through this with your manager Logan. He should be calling you about this soon.”

“Woah wait,” Logan looks at Ellie’s phone apprehensively before he glances at Ellie. “Fake relationship? This isn’t. I mean I wasn’t—”

“Mona you know how I feel about fake relationships,” Ellie cuts in, annoyance lacing her voice. “Why can’t we just promote the song the normal way?”

“This isn’t just about the song Ellie, it’s to clean up your image as well. Everyone loves you with Logan, he’ll basically become your Cadence.”

Ellie frowns.

“If Ellie isn’t comfortable with this then I won’t do it,” Logan replies sternly.

“Fine then, you both have until the end of the day to give me your final decision,” Mona pauses for a moment before her voice drops down to something soft and caring. “This is good for you Ellie. I wouldn’t have suggested this unless I knew it was going to work. Have I ever led you wrong?”

Mona doesn’t afford Ellie the time to reply as she drops the call. Ellie lets out a heavy sigh and takes the phone and shoves it into her pocket, hoping that she won’t have any more calls to ruin her day.

“Shit. This is fucked up,” Logan says as anger and annoyance takes hold of his voice.

“Yeah but not uncommon,” She sighs and leans back on her seat as she thinks about it.

When Cadence revealed to her that the first time Raleigh and her started to date was actually just a fake relationship, she had vowed herself to never take that route. Mainly because she wanted to spare herself from the drama of being in a fake relationship with someone she had no feelings for. Pretending to kiss and fawn over a guy she’ll barely talk to outside of a few convincing texts to screenshot and post on Twitter to parade their relationship around like a prized horse.

She wants to be authentically herself because she owes it to the fans that love and support her.

“What do you think Logan?”

“I mean what I said Ellie,” Logan says as he leans forward a little and gazes into her eyes. “If you don’t want this then I don’t want this.”

A small smile tugs on her lips. “So if I was okay with this…you’d do it?”

Logan chuckles a little. “I mean…would any fan pass up the opportunity to fake date their idol?”

Ellie laughs a little as she takes the table napkin in her hands and twists it around nervously. She weighs her options. Mona wasn’t lying about the image clean up. It’s no doubt that once her new album drops in the coming months, it’ll be used to comb through all of her relationships in the past. So much of the songs she plans to record in the album revolves around heartbreak and recovering from that heartbreak that she knows full well that her critics will unfairly attach a guy to every track in that album. If she gets into a fake relationship with Logan and they “break up” amicably, then all of it will just bounce back to Logan alone. Maybe they could even spin the story so that she’s the dumpee which would then earn her sympathy and support for getting dumped by a truly great guy.

Plus, if she’s being honest with herself, it’ll give her a test run on the tiny crush she has on him without all the pesky strings of getting attached in a real relationship.

It’s all just positives at this point so how could she say no?

“Okay, I’ve made up my mind,” She glances up at Logan shyly before she steels her confidence and clears her throat. “So uh Logan, will you be my very first fake boyfriend?”

The way his eyes sparkle and the way the smile stretches on his lips makes Ellie momentarily forget how to breathe.

“I’ll make you so happy Ellie,” He promises, more truthfully than he had initially intended before he reaches forward and offers his hand. “It’ll be an honor to have you as my first fake girlfriend.”

Ellie laughs a little as she takes his hand, his palms warm against hers, and shakes on the deal just as Vaughn comes arrives with his specialties and sets it the down on the table with a big grin before he goes back into the kitchen.

“Okay, so how did it happen?”

Logan looks at her curiously just as he’s about to take a bite from his burger. “How did what happen?”

“I mean how did we start dating? Why did we start dating?”

He blinks at her, confusion clear on his face. “Because you like me and I like you back?”

“Not good enough,” Ellie says as she takes a bite from chicken sandwich. “It has to be authentic and it has to be meaningful.”

Logan chuckles a little nervously, not really expecting her to be this thorough about the whole thing. After all, he was just planning to post a Pictagram post about it and leave it at that.

“Love at first sight then?”

Ellie coughs and thumps her chest as she looks at him in disbelief. “Seriously? That’s so cliché!”

“It’s plausible,” He smiles and looks at her pointedly as Ellie rolls her eyes.

“How about this. We hung out a lot after the recording, we talked and realized that we had a lot in common and we ended up liking each other.”

“Why is this so important?” Logan frowns as he throws a French fry into his mouth. “Why is it anyone’s business how we got together? Isn’t it enough that we’re dating?”

Ellie scoffs as she takes a sip of her glass of water. “You’ve clearly never been in a fake relationship before.”

“Neither have you,” Logan replies as he playfully bumps her knee under the table.

“Yeah but I got references,” She grins as she raises her phone and waves it a little. “People always love the backstory and we’ll probably get asked about it a lot so it’s better to get our stories straight to really sell it.”

“Right…speaking of selling it, is kissing allowed?” Logan asks cheekily. “What are my boundaries? What are the things I can and can’t do?”

Ellie chuckles a little. “Kissing should be allowed in public. I mean, how else would we make it convincing? Hugging and touching is fine too—as long as it’s in public.”

“Got it,” Logan smiles.

“How about you? What are my boundaries?”

Logan tilts his head to the side with a playful smile. “No food in the Devore?”

Ellie laughs. “Is that all? You’re easy to please.”

“I’m a simple guy I guess,” Logan hands her some tissues when some of the sauce clings to the side of her lips. “We should probably also lay out all of our bad habits while we’re at it. Get it all out in the air so we don’t annoy each other.”

Ellie nods. “You’re right. I’ll go first. I’m cranky during mornings and I hate food that feels mushy no matter how good it tastes.”

“Hmm…” Logan perches his elbow on the table and leans his cheek on his closed hand. “No one drives the Devore but me and I’m really particular about my hair products.”

“You should tell me what you use in your hair. I don’t know how you got it to be so soft,” An embarrassed flush takes hold of her cheeks when she realizes that she just brought up the night she had undoubtedly buried her fingers in his hair.

“I could take you out shopping,” Logan offers with a knowing smile. “Part of the fake boyfriend experience.”

“And I’ll make sure to drag you around multiple stores,” Ellie smiles teasingly. “Part of the fake girlfriend experience.”

Logan pretends to groan as he tilts his head back. “I feel like I’m getting the short end of this deal.”

“Hey!” She bumps her knee against his underneath the table. “You get to fake date the Ellie Wheeler, not many can say they had the privilege.”

“You’re right,” Logan answers honestly, his eyes gazing into hers. “I’m really lucky.”

Ellie smiles softly as a bubble of worry start to form itself in her stomach. “Do you think…we’ll be fine? I mean, nothing bad is gonna happen right?”

“What’s the worse that could happen?” Logan asks with a shrug as he leans back on his chair. “We get along and we make great music together. Everything’s going to be fine.”

Ellie nods a little, her fears disappearing with his words. With how crazy her life has been in the past few months, this could very well be the first break she’ll get since the Colt scandal. In theory, nothing bad should happen if she just keeps her crush as just a crush and cruise through the next few months until their eventual breakup.

Everything is going to be great.

~*~

“I’m calling Mona right now.”

“Babe, come on. This is Ellie’s decision—”

“Shut up Raleigh,” Cadence leaves it at that as she moves to the kitchen of their penthouse and starts a heated discussion with Mona.

Ellie looks towards Cadence direction a little guiltily. After she had lunch with Logan and after ironing out the last of the details for their fake relationship, she decided to drop by Cadence and Raleigh’s penthouse so she could give them the news herself rather than the subtle and suggestive Pictagram posts they’ll both be dropping within the week.

Raleigh sighs and runs his hand through his brown and messy hair before he looks at Ellie sitting on their plush couch. “So how long is this going to go on?”

“About three months or so,” Ellie says as she takes some of the candy they usually leave out on their coffee table. “Until I’m almost finished with my album I think. Mona still hasn’t told me the specifics.”

“Hmm…” Raleigh acknowledges as he observes her quietly. “Want some advice?”

“Uh, I didn’t know you’d have some Raleigh, you did say I should fake date him to promote the song,” Ellie grins as Raleigh glares at her lightly. “But alright, give it to me.”

“Take it from someone who got fucked up from a fake relationship,” He motions his head towards the kitchen. “If you have even the slightest feelings for him, don’t do it or you’re going to end up hurting yourself.”

Ellie frowns. “But you two worked out though…”

“Yeah but the shit we went through?” Raleigh sighs as he shakes his head, his voice a little pained. “I had to watch her get dragged by the media and I couldn’t do or say shit because we “broke up”, then I had to pretend like I was over her and pretend like I didn’t give a shit when I saw her kiss another guy. Even if it was a fake rel. That shit messes with your head, you know?”

Ellie nods sadly. “I won’t develop feelings for Logan. I promise.”

“Good, keep it that way,” Raleigh shrugs before the familiar playful and teasing smile makes its way to his lips. “But if you start to feel like it’s there, it’s a good indication that its time to bounce.”

Ellie grins just as Cadence makes her way back into the living room with a huff and deep furrow on her eyebrows.

“I talked to Mona.”

“Sounds more like it was yelling babe.”

Raleigh merely smiles at the glare Cadence sends his way before she sits next to Ellie and takes Ellie’s hands into hers.

“I understand why you did this. I’m not going to say it’s easy but if this is what you really want then I won’t stop you. Just…be careful okay?”

“Yeah and have fun!” Raleigh says as he reaches out to the bowl of candy and throws it towards Ellie who clumsily catches it. “I’ve met Logan, he’s a nice guy.”

“Aren’t they all?” Cadence sighs as she leans back on the couch. “I’m not saying that it won’t be fun. Sure, it will be but it’s also going to difficult when the real and fake just…blur together and that’s when it starts to get less fun.”

“When did it start to blur for you Cadence?” Ellie asks innocently as Raleigh’s eyes sparkle in absolute delight as he leans forward and looks at his fiancée with curiosity and affection.

“Yeah Cadence when did it start to blur for you?”

Cadence rolls her eyes as a small smile tugs her lips. “The charity function when we sneaked away.”

“Ah,” Raleigh leans back with a fond smile. “That’s a good one.”

Ellie’s eyes bounce between them and she already knows that she’s effectively been shut out. Not that she minds, she’s practically used to the two of them so attached and magnetized to each other that it’s not uncommon for her to feel like the perpetual third-wheel.

“Right, I’m going home guys,” Ellie announces as she stands from the couch and unconsciously pockets the candy Raleigh had thrown to her. “I still have songs to write.”

“Keep up us updated!” Cadence calls out as Ellie makes her way to the penthouse elevator. “About the album and Logan!”

“Always,” Ellie calls out just as the elevator doors close in front of her. She sighs and leans back on the elevator and lets her mind wander. It’s not like she didn’t have her apprehensions, after all she’s well aware of the things she could be risking if she ends up falling for Logan.

But a part of her is undoubtedly curious. What kind of boyfriend would Logan be? Would he be just as cheesy and flirty or would she see a different side to him? Would she be able to pull some inspiration from their fake relationship for her album?

The last question makes her flush a little as she gets into the cab and makes her way back to her penthouse. It wouldn’t be weird for her to write a song about Logan, after all an artist is supposed to get inspiration from the influence and their environment right? It would be weirder if she didn’t have any songs about Logan on her album if they plan to fake date for three months or so.

Ellie doesn’t have time to fully delve into those thoughts when she reaches the building her penthouse and she hurriedly makes her way to her floor. She goes through the motions of putting away her keys and flicking on the lights before she makes her way to her bedroom and flops down on the mattress.

She takes a minute to stare at the nonsense patterns of her ceiling before she reaches into her pocket to pull out her phone when her hands close in on a small round object. She pulls it out and looks at the red candy with confusion before she realizes that it’s from Raleigh and Cadence’s place.

An idea suddenly hits as she quickly scrambles to sit up on the bed and takes out her phone. She tears open the wrapper and presses the candy on her lips. She turns the camera of her phone to her before she snaps twenty or so pictures before settles on one and places a filter to make it look a little bit aesthetically pleasing. A wide smile takes hold of her lips as she pulls up her Pictagram account and posts the picture with the caption:

Boy I’m your candy. Tell me what you’re waiting for.

It’s subtle and suggestive, just like they agreed on, after all it’s just part of the lyrics for their single ‘Candy’ and people could even say that Ellie is simply promoting the song—but with no link to the actual single nor the usual words of “stream Candy” attached anywhere, the comments that rush in quickly figure out what she’s hinting on.

I knew it! I fucking knew it! This is folks, this is the sign we needed that they’re dating. Oh my god I’m so happy but I’m so sad?? But I’m so happy too omg If she breaks his heart, I’m gonna kill her. I heard that there’s gonna be an MV dropping. Will we get a kiss scene???

Ellie laughs a little as she lays back down on the bed and continues to scroll through the comments that come in. She skips through the hate comments, already immune to them at this point, and focuses on the love and support of their “relationship”. She feels a little tinge of guilt that she’s fooling her fans like this but at the end of the day, it’s her life and she’s allowed to live it according to how she wants to.      

A notification pops up in her screen and her heart races when she sees that Logan has posted something. She navigates to his page and when the picture loads, the little squeal of delight she lets out is both embarrassing and well-earned.

The picture is a shirtless selfie of Logan with a piece of candy trapped tantalizingly between his teeth as he looks into the camera with playful smile and sparkling brown eyes. The caption at the bottom reading:

Girl I’m your candy. All I want is you my love.

It’s far from the “subtle” that they had agreed on but it’s not like she dislikes it. In fact, it puts a silly smile on her face that she can’t wipe away. Now, she’s wondering if this truly is his first fake relationship because he just seems too good at it.

Ellie goes to look at the picture again, carefully trying to commit to memory everything about it, before she closes her phone and tosses it next to her. She knows that tomorrow, every celebrity gossip blog is going to start writing articles about their Pictagram posts and she’ll feel the full effects of their fake relationship once dawn breaks.

But for now, she allows herself to get lost in her thoughts and lets the exhaustion of the day pull her to sleep. Because tomorrow, she’ll be going through an experience she’s never had before.

An experience that, that she hopes, will bring more good than bad.

~*~

“Helloooo? Earth to Ellie?” Ingrid huffs as she crosses her arms in front of her chest. “Look if you’re too busy to hang out with me and get pics for my Pictagram, we can always reschedule.”

“Huh? Oh, sorry,” Ellie replies sheepishly as she places her phone on the table. “My bad Ingrid, what were you saying?”

“I was saying,” Ingrid says as she gestures her hand to Ellie, her sparkly pink nails glinting under the florescent lights of the café. “What’s up with you and Logan?”

“Nothing’s up.”

Ellie’s phone pings with a new message and Ingrid narrows her eyes suspiciously as she leans in and swipes Ellie’s phone from the table. Ellie scrambles to get it back but Ingrid is too quick and she’s already inputting Ellie’s password and seeing the new message.

“Still up for date night, El?” Ingrid reads in delight and shock before she turns to Ellie with a dramatic gasp. “Ellie Wheeler you’re dating Logan and you didn’t tell me? What, are we not friends anymore or something?”

“Shh!” Ellie moves across the table between them and grabs her phone as she nervously looks around the semi-crowded space of the café. “And he’s exaggerating. It’s not date night, we’re just watching a movie.”

“Yeah because that’s soooo not a date,” Ingrid rolls her eyes as she picks up her cup of tea and takes a sip. “Whatever. I’m happy for you, he’s definitely an upgrade from all the assholes you’ve dated in the past.”

“I told you we’re not dating,” Ellie says as she takes a peek at her phone and almost melts a little at the list of movies he’s already curated for them to watch later tonight. “At least not officially, not until we announce it in three days.”

“Announce? Officially?” Ingrid narrows her eyes at Ellie before she lowers her voice. “So it’s a fake rel?”

“Yeah,” Ellie picks one of the movies from his list and sends him a quick message. “It’s just that—fake. So we aren’t actually dating.”

“Then what’s with his Picta posts?” Ingrid pulls out her own phone and navigates to Logan’s page. “In the past week he’s either posting about his car, his upcoming album or cryptic posts about you. I mean look at this,” Ingrid clicks on a picture and turns the phone to Ellie. “It’s a picture of him in a field of flowers. The caption literally has the lyrics to your song. Dude sounds like his halfway in love already!”

Ellie blushes a little as she looks at the picture Ingrid’s showing her. She really does love that photo, it’s probably one of her favorite ones his posted. In the past few weeks, they’ve both been trying to be “subtle” about slowly enticing the public with their supposed relationship but Ellie has gradually learned that there is nothing subtle about Logan. All of his posts leave no room for speculation or doubt while she tries her best to be subtle when she posted a picture of her wearing a yellow and black dress.

“He’s just really good at the whole fake dating I guess,” Ellie shrugs as her phone pings with another new message from Logan. She glances at her phone and a small smile tugs on her lips when she sees his message.

Nice, I wanted to watch that one. Your place or mine?

Yours, she replies with a small smile.

Ingrid frowns. “I feel like a third wheel and he’s not even here.”

“Okay, phone down now. Let’s take the picture because I need to go and finish up one more song for my album.”

Ingrid rolls her eyes as she motions with her fingers for Ellie to come closer so they can take the picture together over their array of untouched desserts on the table. Ellie smiles prettily, the kind of smile she’ll only ever use when she’s taking pictures to be posted, as Ingrid tilts her head down a little and pouts her lips a little.

After twenty or thirty pictures with different angles, Ingrid is finally satisfied and flicks through the pictures before she finally settles on one.

“What should the caption be?” Ingrid says as her nails tap on screen. “Girls day out? One in a Million reunion?” Ingrid looks up from her phone and frowns when she sees Ellie grinning at her phone before Ingrid sneakily takes a candid photo. “When your friend can’t get off of her phone because she can’t stop talking to her fake boyfriend?”

Ellie glances up at Ingrid with a small frown. “One in a Million reunion sounds better.”

“You think?” Ingrid scoffs as she types out the phrase and posts it first. She then pulls up the candid photo she took of Ellie, writes down a caption and posts it. She leans back and observes Ellie and waits patiently for her response.

Ellie furrows her eyebrows before she looks up at Ingrid with blank face. “Really Ingrid?”

“It’s not a lie,” Ingrid smirks knowingly.

Ellie sighs as she reads the caption again under her picture.

Guess what’s making El smile so much? Hint: it’s a date.

Ingrid is right at least, it’s not a lie that she’s genuinely excited for her not-a-date with Logan. In the past week or so, they’ve gotten closer. A lot closer than she’d expect them to be and she’s starting to see how…charming, caring and genuinely nice Logan can be. It has come to the point where they’ve been talking late into the night until she’s basically fallen asleep on the phone.

And that terrifies her. Ellie doesn’t want to admit it but the feelings she’s starting to catch from him are starting to spiral into a dangerous territory and if she was smarter, a little more cautious, she’d cut her losses and ask for this fake relationship to be cancelled and, as Raleigh advised, bounce.

But she doesn’t want to. Not when she really likes the feeling of being able to unironically say that the Logan is her boyfriend.

“Anyway, I need to go,” Ellie pockets her phone and stands up from the chair. “Let’s meet up again next week if you’re free.”

“Sure,” Ingrid waves her way and flips her blond hair over her shoulder. “But next time actually pay attention to me, okay?”

“Roger that,” Ellie grins as she places her sunglasses, makes her way to the door and out of the café.

~*~

The ping of Logan’s phone sounds loud in the empty space of his makeshift studio in his apartment. He looks at it curiously before he moves the guitar to the side and reaches for the black device. A wide smile pulls on his lips when he sees the picture of Ellie grinning at her phone, his eyes flit to the caption below the picture and the smile on his face starts to physically hurt his cheeks.

He goes to message Ellie, his fingers typing out his thoughts before he can stop them.

I’m excited too troublemaker. He pauses, deletes the message and tries again.

You look cute in the picture. He pauses again and decides fuck it—he’ll send both.

I’m excited too troublemaker, you look cute in the picture.

He waits with anticipation when he sees the three dots appear and disappear. When he reads her message, he’s sent into a fit of laughter as he lays down on the carpeted floor and holds his phone inches from his face.

Oh my god shut up. She follows up the reply with a cute sticker of a tiny bunny character repeatedly thumping on the chest of a taller bunny.

He grins lazily as he types out his next message. Are you bringing snacks?

Better, I made something.

Logan raises a curious eyebrow. He can confidently call himself an Ellie fan and he, embarrassingly, knows a lot about her. Her knowing how to cook though, somehow, escaped his radar.

Didn’t know you could cook. Are you any good?

The reply is instant, almost as if she already knew that he would ask that question.

Of course I am. Don’t you trust me?

I do. Because strangely enough, he really does. Careful troublemaker, you know what they say about a way to a man’s heart.

Logan, I don’t need to be good at cooking to get through your heart.

Logan’s eyes widen, his heart picking up in speed, and he’s finding it a little difficult to come up with a reply. But his few seconds of silence must’ve set her in a panic when she hurriedly follows it up with another message.

I mean, I’m already your fake girlfriend, right?

Right, he replies before he gathers what little is left of his self-control to finish his message. I’ll see you later El. I gotta finish up the last song before you come.

Okay, see you later!

Logan lets out a heavy sigh and drops his phone on his chest and lays his forearm across his eyes. His mind swims and he can’t stop himself from finally admitting that he has the biggest crush on Ellie Wheeler.

And it’s not just a fan-crush either but a real, tangible, heart-stopping crush.

Not that this is a recent development or anything, he’s noticed that in the past few days—he’s finding it increasingly difficult when he’s nowhere near his phone. Even when he’s recording the newer songs he wrote for his album that finally got approved (due to Candy’s success), he always goes to his phone after each session so he can reply to whatever message she’s left for him.

That’s never happened to him.

Whenever Logan gets himself involved with a girl, he’s usually fine if they don’t talk for a couple days. Hell, he even prefers it since he values his solitude. But with Ellie, it feels as if he’s going to miss out on something important if he doesn’t reply to her messages or talk to her at the end of the day.

It’s a terrifying feeling for him. They haven’t even properly stared to fake date and he’s already catching this pesky crush that he can’t seem to shake out. And Logan knows himself well. No matter how hard he’s going to try to mask it, it’s going to be obvious on his face when the Paps take their pictures.

He sighs and pushes himself off of the floor and grabs his guitar. He’s been having trouble with composing his last song for the album since he’s been instructed to make it the kind of heartbroken love-pining that he’s known for—except make it R&B pop. He was excited at first, finally being able to blend what he’s known for and what he loves to create, but these days he just can’t seem to write down a single word or strum out a single note.

The subject is about heartbreak after all but all he’s been feeling is flutters of butterflies in the past few days.

He strums out the first few notes and looks to his notebook to test out the words he’s able to somehow to write down.

“Tell me once again, tell me you love me like you did that moment,” Logan pauses, reaches out to crush out a word, and he tries again. “Tell me once again, tell me you love me like you did that—time? Fuck!”

Logan places his guitar down and weaves his hand through his hair in frustration. He’s well aware that if he doesn’t finish this song within the month, it’s going to get handed to ghost writers. He’s also scarcely aware how important this album is. If the reception is good, he’ll be able to continue to release songs that he’ll actually love to sing on stage for once. No more grumpy producers telling him to cry in the booth and no more forced interviews where he has to pretend that the song is about a girl who broke his heart once.

It’s finally going to be only him, his music and his own art.

The distant and muted sound of his apartment buzzer reaches his ears and at first, he’s a little annoyed that someone’s here to interrupt his session but the annoyance is immediately wiped away when he remembers that it’s most likely Ellie.

He pushes himself off of the floor and takes quick and long steps towards the front door and yanks it open. He can’t help the smile that breaks out on his face when he sees her standing in front of him with a light peach sundress and a Tupperware of something in her arms.

“Hey, I’m here for movie night.”

“Date night you mean,” He corrects with a grin before he moves to the side and motions for her to enter the apartment. “Make yourself at home. I’m sure you already know where everything is.”

Ellie rolls her eyes with a smile before she makes her way to his kitchen. “How’s the song going?”

“Awful. I’ve got a mental block I can’t get over,” Logan sighs as he leans on the doorframe of the kitchen and observes her quietly as she pulls out plate and puts it on the counter. “Anyway, what did you make?”

“Cookies!” She smiles with pride as she tilts the Tupperware full of cookies to him before she starts to place them on the plate. “I hope you like peanut butter cookies.”

“I love them,” If Logan is being honest with himself, his feelings towards any flavor of cookie is about average. He neither likes them nor hates them but if Ellie is the one that made them, somehow he can find himself to love them. He walks to the counter and plucks one cookie from the plate and takes a bite. His eyes widen a little as the flavor hits his tongue. “Damn, these are good.”

“Told you I’m good,” Ellie beams with pride as she takes the plate and motions towards the living room. “Also, what’s blocking you from the song?”

“You” is what he’d like to say but he’s not sure if he can survive to the aftermath of that conversation. So he shrugs and follows behind her as they make their way to the living room.

“Don’t know, guess it’s just one of those days.”

“Want me to help?” Ellie abruptly stops walking and turns around, almost sending Logan crashing into her. “I also want to bounce off some lyrics with you for a song I’m working on.”

Logan thinks for a moment at the proposition. If he’s being honest, he’d rather not revisit the song until he’s let it sleep for a few days. But he does want to hear the new song she’s working on and there is one song he’s been meaning to let her listen to.

“I have a better idea. I have this song I want to run by you, get your feel for it.”

Ellie’s eyes light up as she looks around a little to try and locate the direction of his studio. “Raincheck on movie night then?”

“Sure,” Logan chuckles softly as he points to the door down the hall. “Bring the cookies though, something to keep our brain going.”

Ellie nods as she walks towards the door he points to and enters his studio. It’s a lot smaller than the one in her penthouse but it’s enough provide a good space for creating music. She places the plate of cookies on the table before she sits on the carpeted floor, crosses her legs, and pulls out her phone from her purse so she can find the instrumentals for the song.

Logan chuckles as he takes sits next to her. “I was going to offer you a chair.”

“No way, I think better when I’m sitting on the floor.”

Logan smiles softly, the little string of his heart tugging at the thought that it’s the same for him too.

“Okay here are the instrumentals,” Ellie starts, her voice serious, commanding and—for Logan—extremely sexy. “I’ve got the chorus down and the bridge but the first verse still sounds clunky.”

“Sing it for me.”

Ellie nods as she presses play, latches on to the lyrics on her phone and starts the song with a few adlibs of soft and raspy ohs.

When I see you, I feel a sense of familiarity After a moment of thinking, I approached you Besides us, everything else has vanished Please trust this experience Match my tempo babe

She finishes and looks at Logan expectantly but he only looks back at her with awe.

“I still can’t get over how good your voice sounds,” He chuckles softly when Ellie glares at him slightly. “Hand me the lyrics.”

Ellie hands him the phone. He rewinds the song a couple of times and mumbles through the lyrics a little before his eyes catch on to the part where it feels a little clunky.

“Here, this part sounds a little off the beat,” Logan moves her phone closer to her, his shoulders touching hers. “Maybe something with one more syllable to hit the last note?”

“Hmm…” Ellie takes her phone and hums through the lyrics, her eyes intensely trained on the words, as Logan observes her with a soft smile. “How about this? Please trust this moment to me.”

“Sing it for me.”

Ellie nods and she gets through the first part quickly before she slows down at the end of the first verse and sings the new lyrics.

Besides us, everything else has vanished Please trust this moment to me Match my tempo babe

“That’s it,” Logan says as he unconsciously moves closer to her, his face so close he can see the light peach blush on her cheeks. “Sounds like a hit already.”

She turns to him with a smile but quickly looks away when she realizes how close their faces are. She distracts herself by typing in the new lyrics to the song. She goes through the entire song again a couple of times, just to make sure that there’s nothing else he needs to comment on, before she’s finally satisfied with the results.

“Okay, I’m done with mine. Let me hear yours.”

Logan chuckles softly as he pushes himself off of the floor and moves to the keyboard in the corner of the room. He takes a seat just as Ellie follows him and stands behind him. Logan looks over his shoulder at her with a smile before he pats the space next to him.

Just as she takes a seat, his fingers fly over the keys and the soft and slow start of the song fills the studio. Although the actual song will have more layers to it, this is the best he can do for now. He drops his voice down a little as he tries to achieve the emotions he’s wanted to inject into this song the moment he composed it—sultry and enticing.

It’s a little stuffy when I make eye contact with you I’d like to dive deep into your eyes I’d like to look into them but I can’t If your fingers touch me, I feel like I’m losing my mind.

He goes through the first verse with ease, the emotions in his heart easily flowing out and mixing with the beat and lyrics of the song and he’s terrified of how easily all these emotions come to him when he’s singing for her.

He glances at her knowingly as he reaches to the second verse, the lyrics of the song starting to jump out of the page and into what little space is left between them.

I think I’m drunk Try mixing in another blue sapphire Let me know if there’s an island for me in your sea It’s like I’ll explode The blue spreads through all of me. You can fall for me, if you want.

He reaches the bridge and belts out a sustained high note and finishes the song with a few adlibs of ohs and lets the last of the note ring out in the studio.

“Wow,” Ellie says as she looks up at him with wonder and awe. “That’s an amazing song Logan. I feel like I already have a favorite song from your album.”

Logan grins as he gazes into her eyes. “No changes then?”

“None. Absolutely none,” Ellie unconsciously plays with the edge of her dress. “You should sing for me more often. I like being your only audience.”

Logan laughs a little, his body unconsciously moving closer to hers. “Does this mean you’re now a Logan fan?”

“Release the full album first,” She replies teasingly as she tilts her head to him. “I’ll decide then.”

“Ellie…” Logan whispers softly, his brown eyes searching hers, as he starts to move lean forward but he catches himself—his brain catching up to his erratic heart. He pulls away abruptly and tries to internally shake away the haze that she’s brought on him. Anymore than this and he’ll be helplessly falling into her arms. “Anyway, it’s getting late, don’t you think? Don’t want Mona to chew your ass out.”

“Oh,” Ellie says, the disappointment clear in her voice, before she turns to look at the clock on the wall and is shocked that two hours had run by without her knowledge. “You’re right, I should go.”

“I’ll walk you out,” Logan stands from the chair and grabs the plate from the table. “I’ll pack this up too.”

“You can keep it, it was supposed to be our snacks anyway,” She chuckles as she makes her way out of the studio.

Logan follows dutifully behind her as they walk down the hallway and reach his front door.

“Thanks for helping me with the song Logan. Too bad I can’t give you the credits for it.”

Logan grins as he reaches over and opens the door for her. “Make it up to me by giving me a signed album.”

“Careful, that’s how other artists end up taking advantage of you,” Ellie warns with a playful smile before she steps out of the door and looks at him a little apprehensively. “Our fake relationship is going to start in three days. Are you ready?”

“I am,” Logan says honestly, maybe even a little excitedly. “I doubt anyone’s going to be surprised though.”

“That’s your fault, I told you to be subtle,” Ellie chuckles softly before she turns to leave. She looks over her shoulder and gives him a small smile. “Goodnight Logan.”

“Goodnight Ellie. Message me when you get home.”

Elli gives him a small wave goodbye and watches her carefully to make sure she gets to the elevators without the any problems. When the elevator closes, he closes the front door and presses his forehead against the wooden surface. He squeezes his eyes shut and runs through everything that happened so far.

He groans a little when he realizes how close he was to kissing her after he finished singing his song. If he was a weaker man, he would’ve done it. But she already set her boundaries. No kissing, hugging or touching—unless it’s in public. And he’s going to keep that promise.

Although, embarrassingly, he’s already running through the best date spots for their first official date as a fake couple.

A date, he’s hoping, will end with a kiss.

~*~

“Ellie! Come here!”

Ellie turns to look at the director in her chair as the make-up artist continues to touch up her make up for the music video shoot.

“Coming!” Ellie replies as she stands from the chair and smooths out the orange and black jacket she’s wearing before she makes her way to the director.

Once she reaches him, he gives a quick rundown of the scene needed for the shoot. She follows him around the set, an explosion of yellow, pastel neon and soft orange lights and décor that mimics old 90s arcades, as he points out the different places she’ll be shooting her solo scenes. One where she’ll be inside a tube like structure, another is in front of a makeshift brick wall and the last one is a raised platform with fairy lights dotted in the background and foreground.

“We’ll shoot your parts first then we move on to Logan’s,” The director motions to where Logan is sitting in his chair having his final run through from the assistant director for his own scenes. “The props should be in the tube.”

Ellie’s eyes light up when she turns to look at the tube structure and sure enough, there on the bottom is where a myriad of different shaped and colored candies in aesthetically pleasing glass jars wait for her. It’s already pretty rare for her to eat anything too heavy days before a music video shooting so having the opportunity to eat on the actual shooting is a blessing she’ll never have again. Unless she titles all of her songs to something food-related.

“Can I eat it?” Ellie asks as she crawls into the center of the tube, takes the glass jars and puts it on her lap as she takes a seat. She twists open the lid and takes out a blue dice-shaped candy and holds it up to the light.

The director laughs. “Just try not to eat all of it. We start in five everyone!”

“You okay over here?”

Ellie looks up and smiles when she sees Logan approaching her in a red and white hoodie, his white pants hugging is legs in the most distracting of ways. He reaches the tube structure and takes a seat on the entrance of the tube.

“Good, you?”                                                                                                                  

Logan smiles as he motions to run his hand through his hair before he stops himself when he remembers that his hairstylist has already spent hours on his hair.

“Ready to eat something, I’m hungry.”

Ellie grins as she offers him the candy she’s holding. “Want a bite then?”

Logan raises an eyebrow before he leans forward and takes the candy between his teeth, his eyes never leaving hers as his lips touch the tips of her fingers.

Ellie is immensely thankful to her makeup artist for making her makeup just a little thicker today so it can survive the harsh lights. It turns out it has a dual purpose today—survive the lights and hide away the blush on her cheeks.

“Delicious,” Logan comments with a cheeky smile as he runs his thumb over his bottom lip. “Save some for me later.”

Ellie doesn’t have time to reply, not that she had any coherent words to reply with, when the director calls out for the first take. Logan stands from where he’s sitting and gives her a little thumbs up before he walks out of the frame of shoot.

Ellie takes a minute to get her beating heart to settle before she turns to the camera, her demeanor already changing, as she hears Candy playing in the background.

“And action!”

~*~

“Good job Ellie, let’s take a five minute break and reset,” The director calls out as Ellie hops off of the platform.

Just as she’s about to go back to her seat somewhere behind the cameras, Logan intercepts her and offers her a water bottle. She smiles gratefully and drinks almost half of the bottle. Maybe being under the lights and nibbling on candy for forty minutes made her more dehydrated than she thought.

“Want me to get you another one?” Logan chuckles as she shakes her head no.

“I’m good for now,” Ellie twists the bottle cap close and hands it back to him. “Ready for our shoot?”

“Yeah,” Logan’s eyes flit to somewhere over her shoulder and he moves to her side, wraps an arm around her waist and guides her away a little. “Careful, there’s a camera behind you.”

“Huh? Oh thanks,” Ellie looks behind her just as she sees the huge black device hovering near where she had been standing. A memory comes to her and she laughs a little. “Ever hit your head on this?”

Logan winces at the thought and shakes his head no.

“I did, when I was shooting Easy,” Ellie chuckles as she unconsciously leans into him, his hand warming up the skin on her waist. “Just as I was really feeling the music, I turn to the side and bam! The makeup team had to do some magic to hide the red bump here.”

Ellie points to her right temple and Logan snickers as he gazes into her eyes with a soft smile, giving her waist a reassuring small squeeze. “I’ll make sure we won’t get a repeat of that then.”

“Then you’re doing a fantastic job so far,” Ellie moves closer to him, the space between them nonexistent, and somewhere in the back of her mind—she’s aware that she shouldn’t be this close to him even if everyone knows that they’re “dating”.

“Logan and Ellie! Let’s start,” The directors voice booms around the space of the studio and the spell they’ve trapped themselves in breaks. Ellie is the first to move a little away from his hold and Logan, reluctantly, lets his arm fall away from her waist. When he’s no longer in her space, he can already feel the rush of cold air that envelopes him.

“Make sure you don’t get left behind,” Ellie comments as she looks up at him with a teasing smile.

Logan smiles and puts his hands in his pockets, the fire in her eyes both inspiring and addicting.

“Never troublemaker.”

~*~

Ellie takes a sip from her glass of wine, her back against the headboard of her bed, as she crosses her ankles and goes through the selection of movies on her TV for her next movie to watch. After the music video shoot that ran for close to three hours, she was finally able to relax for the rest of the day and she’s been spending it catching up on movies she’s wanted to watch for awhile. Although she wanted to hang out with Logan after the shoot, he had to quickly get to an interview with a popular podcast channel on PlayMe.

After she picks one from the thriller category, she blindly pats around for her phone on the bed. She goes through her Pictagram account and lazily scrolls through her timeline as the opening scene of the movie fills the silence of her bedroom. Since they’ve announced their relationship (with a cringy couples pose pic that had them laughing and wheezing the first few takes), most of her timeline has been full of their fans congratulating them and making compilation videos of whatever little interaction they had shown in public. Ellie doesn’t want to admit it out loud but she really does enjoy seeing people so happily supporting the both of them. In her past relationships, most of her fans and friends disapproved of her choice (with good reason too) but with Logan, all she’s getting is love and support.

It’s painful for her to admit it but Logan is just that good of a guy and he really is the Cadence to Ellie.

Ellie frowns a little at the idea that she’s the Raleigh of their relationship.

!!!!!!!! El, watch this!

Ellie’s eyebrows furrow a little when she sees PlayMe link that Riya, her closest friend even before she became an artist, has sent her. She pauses the movie and places her glass of wine on her nightstand when she sees the thumbnail of the video. She can already tell that it��s Logan sitting in a podcast room and if she isn’t mistaken, it’s probably the interview he had to quickly run to after their shooting.

You sure this is all fake?

Ellie’s eyes widen a Riya’s message before she quickly locates her earphones, plugs it in and plays the video. It starts off innocently enough, just going through Logan’s music history and talking about his most popular songs. Then it delves into Candy and, naturally, to her.

“So, Candy and Ellie. What’s that like?”

Logan chuckles a little, a soft smile pulling on his lips. “Which one do you want me to talk about? Depending on how much time we have left, I don’t think we can get to both.”

The hosts laughs. “Ellie of course!”

“Yeah Ellie!” His co-host chimes in. “What’s it like working with her?”

“Amazing,” Logan grins as he leans back on his seat. “She’s passionate about her work. She doesn’t take any of my crap either.”

“And you guys are dating now! What’s that like?”

“It’s…” Logan pauses a little, a soft smile tugging on his lips. “Surreal you know? I mean dating your idol is probably number one on the list of things that doesn’t happen to guys like me.”

“I bet Ellie is just as lucky,” The co-host laughs.

“Nah, I’m the lucky one,” Logan’s voice drops down to something soft, something honest. “She’s sweet…way too sweet for someone like me. She knows how to have fun too and it’s never boring when I’m with her...it kinda feels like home sometimes.”

The host whistles. “Write her a song while you’re at it.”

Logan laughs. “Told you I’d only have time to talk about one.”

“If Ellie is listening in—hi Ellie!—what would you like to say to her?”

“Where’s the camera—oh there,” Logan smiles handsomely directly to the camera, his brown eyes sparkling with amusement and affection. “Miss you already troublemaker. Let’s reschedule that date night already.”

The whole room dissolves into awws and Ellie touches her cheek, feeling the warmth of her blush heating up her palm. She doesn’t even get the time to properly process what she just saw when Riya sends her a flood of messages.

Did you see it? El tell me you’ve seen it. Was he really faking it? And why does he call you troublemaker? El!!! Reply already!!!

Calm down Riya! I just finished watching it.

Cool. Thoughts?

So many. Ellie probably has enough thoughts in her head to last her for the rest of the week. But how is she able to properly articulate all of them without giving away her crush for Logan? Nobody knows about it—not even Raleigh and Cadence, the two people she shares everything with.

I think…maybe it isn’t all fake?

I knew it! I freaking knew it! The way he looked at the camera? The things he said? Sorry but your boyfriend is hot El.

She wants to correct Riya. That Logan isn’t her boyfriend but rather her fake boyfriend but surprisingly, giddily, she doesn’t. So she immerses herself a little in the fantasy, in the belief that maybe there really is something more to them than just their fake relationship.

It won’t hurt right? After all, this is just a little crush. A feeling she won’t allow to grow into something more. After all, she promised Raleigh that it wouldn’t get to that—hell, she promised herself.

But a crush is something small and insignificant. Something she can easily overlook and abandon when things start to get sticky.

So Ellie flops down on her bed, a wide grin on her face, as she dials Riya’s number so they can properly gush over her extremely hot boyfriend and talk about all the things she’s excited to explore with her very much fake but not fake relationship with Logan.

#choices rod #choices platinum #logan x ellie #choices logan #rod logan #male raleigh x cadence #raleigh carrera #cadence dorian

[djchika]

Roswell NM 1x01: Reaction Fic/Coda Part 1

(I’m going back and doing codas for the episodes I wasn’t able to do. Hopefully I’ll be on track by the time the new ep airs!)

-

When Alex first imagined it, this was how it went:

He comes home at the end of his enlistment, healthy and whole, the years in the air force changing his gait, footsteps heavy from all that he’d seen and done, but not enough that he’s limping with its weight.

He comes home to Roswell and finds Michael. Michael is older, different. They both are. Alex no longer the boy Michael had kissed under artificial stars, and Michael no longer the boy Alex had sought for both comfort and safety.

He comes home and Alex imagines a slow, rekindling. The polarity of finding love in both frenzy and sobriety is a fever dream, but that’s exactly how it is with Michael. They’d had their time to rush at each other, eyes closed, heart wide open. Now, in the peace that came with the passing of time, they could savor every moment.

How it actually went was:

He comes home, beaten and broken. The parts of his soul that are missing shake his equilibrium more than losing a leg ever could.

He comes home and finds Michael. Michael is older, different. Angrier. Disillusioned. They both are. Like their worst parts had been magnified tenfold.

He comes home and the pull is magnetic. Celestial objects slowly gaining momentum until they’re hurtling at each other at full speed. What comes after is a supernova of love and longing and pain.

There was no peace in the rekindling. No comfort except in the ghosts of their past.

What Alex doesn’t know is this:

Someday Alex would come home, feeling beat down and broken, but instead of an empty house he’d come home to a wide, scruffy smile and an overly warm hug.

Someday Alex would come home and he’d find Michael. Experimenting in the kitchen, cleaning up after the dog, fiddling with bits of machinery picked up from the junk yard. Alex would step on a squeaky toy and before long, both Michael and the dog are speeding towards him in faux race to get to him first.

Someday Alex would come home, drag himself into bed only to be abruptly woken up with the sun barely past the horizon. Michael’s head would be pillowed on his chest, wild curls tickling the jut of Alex’s chin. He’d push the strands away, jostling Michael who’d grumble before burrowing against Alex, tickling him even more. There would be laughter and love and a grumpy dog protesting his interrupted sleep.

Outside their home, the bright New Mexico sun would bring with it the promise of a clear day.

#malex #malex fic #alex manes #michael guerin #roswell nm #this is cheesy af but who cares #I like cheese nomnom #deej writes #deej writes malex #rnm coda fic

[theskyisbrighthere]

Meet Me in The Middle Chapter 3

let me know what you guys think!

Grace can’t say that she’s smart. In fact, she’s a bit of an idiot. Which is probably how she’s managed to land herself into this situation. By the Gods she hates this world. All the differences are so hugely different from her own. Although some things are the same (like her job, just the foods have different names and why the fuck they call Jarem Ebony she’ll never fucking know) she still gets hugely home sick.

Although some things about this world are better than her own; the added protection of the Kings men being everywhere, free healthcare, (and some ailments even cured by potions. But if you ask Grace, she’ll call it magic cause wow) liveable wage and even extra money left over every week. (And how nice to be able to pay rent weekly instead of monthly because fuck that.) Education was a right and not a privilege and all schools were top of the line and equal in its funding.

Not that she knows that. Grace had gone to school and graduated by the time she had gotten here. The hardest thing she’s had to adjust to the most though was the different Gods. All her life she’s followed her own and then getting to a different planet and being told (not that anyone knows) that her Gods aren’t real. It honestly felt like a kick to the face, one that hasn’t stopped happening. Despite that, Grace has continued to pray to her own Gods and swept these new ones to the side.

She just wants to know how she ended up on this planet and not the one she was supposed to end up on. Which begs the question. Where the hell are her people?

-X-

Grace is really trying her hardest to stay positive. But the dickhead that is her neighbour is really trying her patience, it’s been nearly two hours and the music that is very loudly pulsing from said dickheads apartment into her own is damn near driving her insane. Just as she’s about to get up and storm to said apartment to tell them to please shut the fuck up- (not that she would say that she’d be a bit more polite) the music stops. Just like that its quiet, her apartment no longer quaking. Its so sudden that Grace stops in shock and isn’t quite sure what to do now. Thinking quickly, she turns on her heels, her dress flaring out in the spin and heads back to the armchair to pick up the book that she had carelessly put down in her quest to yell at her rude neighbour.

Fully intent on getting back into the flow of the story, Grace settled in on the armchair throwing her legs over one side and settling her back on the other. She’s just settled in and has managed to get halfway through the page she is currently on when she starts to feel a familiar warm itch of arousal slowly stirring underneath her skin. Trying her best to ignore it she shifts slightly in a mild attempt to shake it off and continue with her reading. Feeling it get more insistent Grace groaned to herself, marked the page she was on with the bookmark threw it to the side and buried her face in her hands and did her best not to scream from frustrated desperation. She doesn't want this. Doesn't need it, it's almost cruel. She doesn't think she'll be able to make it through this one. The insistent itch happens multiple times a day and nearly always when its most inconvenient for her.

Groaning again Grace sat up and heaved herself off the armchair in search of a glass of water to try and soothe the Gods awful itch. Heading into the kitchen and reaching into the cupboard for a glass, she did her best to think about anything but the throb that had started to make itself known between her thighs. Squeezing said thighs together, she turned on the sink to fill up the glass and then brought it to her lips, she prayed that if she just ignored it then it would go away .

Yeah right, as if she’s ever been that lucky.

Putting the now empty glass in the sink, Grace did her best to think about anything but the ache between her legs. And in doing so and without meaning to thought about the Alpha that she had unintentionally abandoned. The ache between her legs magnified tenfold at the thought. Swearing to herself Grace knew that any thought of her pre-heat going away now was non-existent.

Pushing herself off the bunch that she had ended up leaning against, she made it her mission to get to her room before her willpower gave out and she shoved her hand down her into her underwear then and there to try and get the week from hell over. She made it to her bedroom doorframe before her logical side lost to her primal side. Pushing herself up against the inside of the door Grace does her best to suppress the moan that drags itself out of her throat once her hand makes its way underneath the waist band of her underwear and makes contact with her clit.

The thoughts on her Alpha return and she lets them. She thinks about her good he would be, the size of his hands and how they would feel on her skin, how he would grab and squeeze and hold. How they would bend inside of her and hit that sweet spot that makes her see stars. How his lips would feel pressed against her own. His lips against her skin, sucking and kissing. How his tongue would feel pressed against hers, pressed just right on her most intimate part and the thought tore a moan from her along with a burst of pleasure that was a lot more powerful than she was used too.

Bucking against her hand that was rubbing tight little circles against her clit, she did her best to try and slow down, feeling herself hurtling toward the finish line and wanting to savour it (which she thought was ironic seeing as she didn’t want this to start off with). Moaning again when she felt the hot sharp painful pang of pleasure flash through her, she did her best to stay upright on shaking legs, (of which she had arched up onto her toes without even noticing) as another bolt of painful pleasure surged through her again. She could feel her body starting to get warm and thoughts of her Alpha had resurfaced.

She felt another hot bolt of pleasure when she thought about his own body pressed against hers, his body weight forcing her into the mattress while he whispered lewd things into her ear, holding her down while he gave hard firm thrusts that would drive her toward her own orgasm, how he wou-

Her fantasy is cut short when her orgasm thunders through her with a furious tenacity that almost scares her. She rides her hand through it and slowly slides her way down her wall while trying to calm her breathing through the last of her aftershocks. When she attempts to stand a few minutes later her legs feel like jelly and she wobbles when she tries to walk forward. Slowly walking towards her bathroom she makes her way to the shower, turns on the water and while she waits for it to heat, takes off her dress (her underwear already gone from her shameful display) and gets into the shower after she’s done. Hoping that the painful orgasm will hold back her Heat for at least another day or two.

Standing under the heated water she thinks the one thought she’s been trying her best not too, lest she drag up the desperation she's been trying not to feel. How the rumble of his purr would feel pressed up against her. And its really the only thing she think about for the rest of the night.

And tries to ignore the rising fear that creeps back in every time she thinks of him. She's no closer to finding him than she was yesterday.

-X-

Its two days later when there’s a polite knock on her front door that turns her world upside down. Because standing on the other side of the door is her Alpha. Her terrified, alert Alpha. Who looks half out of his mind and ready to take her and run. Her first thought is what has him so terrified. Her second is who hurt him. And the third is how the fuck he found her when she couldn't even find him.

She’s stunned. Glued to her spot and it looks like he is as well. Neither of them is about to move anytime soon, which is when she becomes aware that they’re not alone. Standing not too far away from him leaning on the other side of the hall is the eloquent man she ran into in the shop all but 3 days ago.

Grace can’t say that she’s smart. In fact, she’s a bit of an idiot. Which is probably how she’s managed to land herself into this situation. But the first thing she does after being startled out of the daze she was in, is to step back and close the door. And then to immediately open it back up again to her Alpha’s wide startled eyes and her instincts screaming at her. Taking multiple deep breathes to try and calm her erratic heartbeat and heavy breathing (and to breathe in the scent of him because he's right there), she does her best to calm down. Even though she is nowhere near calm, she attempts a smile. He tries to smile back but he is still somewhat startled, and it looks more like he has done it out of automatic instinct than actual will.

“Hi-” She starts, and he jumps not expecting it. “I’m Grace, would you like to come in?”

A real smile spreads across his face this time and he looks beautiful.

“It’s very nice to meet you Grace. My name is Noctis.” Oh god, his voice was just as smooth as she remembered it. She moved to the side and made room for him to come into her home. She looked over at his companion after he had made her way into her home to see if he would be joining them. But he seemed to be in his own world with his attention fixated on a book that he must have brought with him. Leaning against the wall of the hall she decided to leave him to his own devices, it was probably best that this was done between just the two of them.

Taking a deep breath, she turned around and closed the door and tried to prepare herself for the conversation that was about to follow. Looking up she saw her Alpa- Noctis! She saw Noctis standing uncertainly in the middle of her living room. Taking another deep breath and inhaling more of his scent, Grace sent a quick prayer to her Gods for strength and hoped that they were listening. She was going to need it.

#final fantasy xv #Noctis Lucis Caelum #alpha/beta/omega AU #original female character #noctis lucis caelum/original female character #Smut