#i really truly struggle with it - i am constantly on the verge of running away but i am trying

[seapasture]

everything seems to be a trigger for my ocd and bpd at the moment :( the thought of even being known by another person is more than I can bear

#even making this post is agony for me - using tumblr is so hard. i constantly convince myself that i've messed up or done something evil #it really feels like i'm a monster masquerading around haha. my shame seeps into everything i touch #i need to try and overcome it and expose myself to things that cause me distress but Everything causes me distress. i'm not exaggerating! #i wish i could rot in bed and never be perceived again. it's all utter agony. i want to cry but i'm so drained i can't even do that #i feel so grateful towards people who have tagged me in things recently or interacted with me here. it means a lot #i really truly struggle with it - i am constantly on the verge of running away but i am trying #sea rambles

[shurelyasreverie]

Aphelios x Solari!Reader: Faith in the Traitor

Deemed a traitor for sympathising with the Lunari, you are alone as you aimlessly wander through Targon, only to catch the attention of one of the most dangerous assassins the Lunari has to offer...

Word Count: 2097

Warning: Violence and death

Aphelios found you leaning against a tree in the forests below Mount Targon. Your figure bound in blood red garments with golden armour that reflected only the light of the sun, it was clear as day who you were aligned with. It was all the information he needed to reach his decision to kill you. Calibrum in hand, he aimed down sights with his rifle, straight for the side of your head...

“Aphelios, wait.”

The voice of Alune rung in his head and his eyebrows furrowed in frustration but he lowered the rifle nonetheless, waiting for his sister's explanation.

“A true member of the Solari would never turn their back to Mount Targon.”

That reason seemed enough as Aphelios watched you in curiosity. There he noticed the inconsistencies. As of now, the Solari controlled most of Targon, so why did you look so dishevelled? Why was your armour so dented, the red clothing so frayed? Why did you desperately try to catch your breath like a prey on the run, constantly on the verge of death if they made the wrong decision? As repulsive as the fiery light of the Solari could be, the light you emanated was more tolerable... soothing, almost.

Your (E/C) orbs scanned the area. You noticed nothing except for the footprints on the ground, no doubt footprints from the Solari. Your fingers traced the tracks, sampling some dirt. Your nose scrunched. Fresh tracks. You took off in the opposite direction.

“Curious... I struggle to read their soul... but I sense goodness in their heart. I sense fear but determination. Follow them and we shall find answers.”

Sheathing his weapon, Aphelios nodded obediently and followed Alune's commands. Spying on you proved harder than expected though as you continuously looked over your shoulder, your blade always at the ready to slay anything that moved. You stayed in the shadows, hiding. However after a few hours of observing your moves, Aphelios managed to learn your body language and habits.

You had gotten too exhausted. Sheathing your weapon, you desperately tried to keep yourself awake by talking through your thoughts.

“Where am I even going?” you started to mutter. “Anyone I'm looking for... I don't know where to start, a map still would've felt nice, though. What if I run into the Lunari? I wonder if they'll accept me if I turn myself in...”

“A wanted Solari... but what was their crime? I don't sense any guilt in their soul,” Alune mused but Aphelios' blood boiled. It seemed typical of the Solari, to commit atrocities without guilt, all for their pride and supposed love of the sun. His mind was decided, he would waste no time slaying you when Alune gives the word.

As the sun disappeared over the horizon and the moon started to rise, you settled by a lake. Collapsing to your knees with a hefty exhale, you cupped the water in your hands to quench the insatiable thirst that made it hard to even breathe. You had left Mount Targon in such a hurry, you didn't have the time to bring any rations with you.

And Aphelios noticed your lack of resources. When he left to find sustenance of his own, he cursed himself for feeling pity for a Solari.

Returning to the edge of the clearing, hidden under the shadows of nightfall, Aphelios watched you as you sat by the lake. You idly let your fingertips swirl along the water, creating ripples that made slivers of moonlight dance among the small waves. You mystified him. The Solari never approved of the night or moon, believing the moon only leached off the true light of the sun. Hating the pale blue light, many Solari would create bonfires or torches, the amber light from the flame giving them solace amidst the white light of the moon. But not you. As you tilted your head up, looking to the large, full moon. Closing your eyes, you seemed to bask in the silver light, letting the spirit of the moon embrace you. Whereas the golden light of the Solari typically clashed with the moon, yours seemed to fuse with the moonlight, blending together. A symbol of peace. How was this possible? How was a Solari, so guiltless in their crimes, be so open to the moon?

“It's a beautiful sight, isn't it?”

Alune's voice interrupted Aphelios' thoughts and he looked up at the full moon, nodding in agreement. It was truly a sight to behold, it was not everyday the sky was so clear, with millions of stars – the many children of the moon – dancing as they twinkled in the darkness.

There was then an amused giggle from his sister.

“Remember that I see the world through your eyes, Phel. For you, the beautiful sight wasn't the moon, was it?”

Aphelios merely huffed as he settled himself down, preparing for a light slumber despite Alune continuing to tease.

“The Solari has awaken.”

Aphelios woke up to Alune's notice and the warm hues of sunrise. You were still by the lake, he assumed you slept under the moonlight. He watched as you knelt by the water, drinking from the lake. He unknowingly took a step forward and you halted your drinking. Eyes narrowed, you spoke with a low and commanding voice that reminded Aphelios you were truly a warrior of the sun.

“I know you're there.”

Aphelios froze. Was he really that conspicuous? He had never failed a mission. But you didn't look to the right where Aphelios hid, instead to the left. You stood to your full height, shoulders square and eyes burning with the fire of Solari. Another Solari stepped out of the shadows, attire similar to yours, albeit cleaner and reflecting the harsh, blinding light of the sun.

“(Y/N) (L/N), one of the most promising children of the sun... once a revered Ra'Horak, one of the highest ranking assassins of the Solari...” the Solari announced.

“Do I know you?” you frowned as you sized the Solari up. Even without the armour he has a hulking figure, at least a foot taller than you and with various weapons strapped to him. Whereas you... the days of being on the run had made your muscles almost nonexistent... you wouldn't even stand a chance of outrunning him.

“I am the newest Ra'Horak, sent off on my first mission.”

“And what is that?”

“The elders want your head and I intend to deliver it on a golden platter.”

Your blood ran cold. You unsheathed your weapon and so did he, just because you might lose doesn't mean you weren't going down without a fight.

“I did nothing wrong!” You argued.

“Then why did you flee?”

“Because you are the ones who consider me wrong.”

“Siding with the Lunari is blasphemy. A crime of the highest order, are you so ignorant that you cannot see that?”

“I just want us to live in peace,” you begged. “As equals. Does the night not last equally as long as the day?”

“Silence!” The Solari bellowed as he charged at you and you barely had the strength to move away. “I will not hear you slander the Solari like this! I will cut out your tongue so it will never be able to speak lies. The Lunari must die.”

“They do not!” You shouted as you parried another attack. You desperately tried to move away, take advantage of your smaller figure as you parried and dodged him but he was simply too fast and strong.

His blade collided with your armour, and although it didn't puncture you, it sent you tumbling face first to the ground. When you mustered the strength to flip onto your back, a blade was already pressed against your neck.

“What are your final words, traitor?” The Solari spat at your face.

“This war won’t end unless you change,” you stated.

The Solari growled, pulling his blade back to stab it into your neck. You closed your eyes, waiting for the numbness of death but it never came. Instead, your eyes opened when you heard an audible thud on the ground. The Solari's blade had fallen from their open palm. The warrior lay in a pool of their own blood, a bullet wound in their head.

A rustle in the bushes and you instinctively lifted your blade, despite the near impossible chances of stopping a bullet. Out of the bushes emerged a lanky, pale man, clad in moonstone armour and weapons, particularly a sniper rifle sitting on his back. Why would the Lunari save you? Nonetheless, knowing this Lunari could kill you just as he did the Solari, you knelt deeply in respect.

“Thank you for saving me,” you murmured earnestly, soft enough to show emotion but loud enough for your rescuer to hear.

Aphelios' eyes darted around nervously as he was unsure of what to do. Seeing such a pure (E/C) gaze up close, scrutinising his face made him realise how long it had been since he properly interacted with someone beyond his sister, let alone a Solari. Heat rose to his face as you watched him patiently, expecting a response. He never regretted giving up his voice for Alune but in that moment, he wished to say something – anything – to you.

You stood up and cleared your throat as the Lunari looked at you blankly.

“Uh... I'm (Y/N)...” you introduced as you raised your hand for a handshake. The air was tense. Two trained assassins from opposing sides, knowing nothing but murdering each other's comrades. To think that they'd be greeting each other so pleasantly.

Aphelios took your hand with a firm shake. Your hand held the sun's warmth but it didn't burn as he thought. He figured his own hand probably felt like ice to yours.

“What's your name?” You asked the Lunari and you watched intently as he traced letters in the air. So for whatever reason, he was unable to speak? Interesting... “A...phel...ios. Aphelios? Right. Thank you, Aphelios.”

You bowed in thanks. Despite your belief of peace, your lack of prior interaction with the Lunari meant there was a little voice of doubt in your mind, if you could ever find common ground with them. But now, your life indebted to a Lunari, that little voice was no longer there.

“Well... I'll be on my way,” you quickly bid goodbye, turning your back to him. But just as quickly as you turned you felt a cold grip on your wrist. Turning back to Aphelios, he cocked his head to the side like a curious puppy, as if asking, on your way to where, exactly?

“I... I don't know. I don't have anywhere to go,” you admitted. “I have abandoned the Solari and the Lunari...”

Aphelios sent a look your way, a look you couldn't read but you doubted it was good. Your voice diminished to a murmur.

“I didn't become a Ra'Horak by letting the Lunari run free.”

Aphelios froze for a few moments, searching your face. As much as he loathed the thought of the Solari, how he loathed the loss of his allies, would he not be a hypocrite? You deserved to kill him as much as he could kill you. However the mournful look on your face told him everything he needed.

Aphelios took your hand and tugged you towards him as he started to walk off. You frowned as you demanded where he was taking you. He traced the air yet again.

Camp.

“I couldn't possibly-”

Aphelios shushed you and you sighed in resignation. His cool skin made you conscious of just how warm you felt, and you were almost certain it wasn't just because you were a Solari.

Feeling your grip in his hand, Aphelios had never felt warmth so comforting before. Now, he understood your clear conscience. The crime that got you banished was the crime of peace, the repentance for your murders. The belief that the Solari and Lunari can stand together warranted your death. You were no traitor. He unconsciously squeezed your hand in reassurance as he thought of your struggles.

Meanwhile, Alune could be heard laughing joyfully in Aphelios' mind.

“Ever the gentleman, Phel. You were so bold to take their hand like that. Don't fret, brother. I approve of them.”

Aphelios prayed to the moon that you didn't notice how his face rivalled the heat of the sun.

#fanfic #fanfiction #imagine #oneshot #lol #league of legends #league of legends imagine #league of legends x reader #aphelios #league of legends aphelios #aphelios x reader #x reader #self insert #y/n #drama #shurelyasreverie

[jaceyneedsabetterusername]

Files

Pairings: Sam Winchester x Reader

Trope: Enemies to lovers  @serenityhayato​ ( WRITTEN FOR @negans-lucille-tblr​‘s SPN FIC EXCHANGE )

Warnings: Death of a friend, Canonical Gore (werewolf attack), Cursing, Smut (rough Sam, light choking, hand job, oral if you squint- male receiving, unprotected sex), Probably sex at inappropriate times if I’m being honest

Word Count: 7500 (I am so sorry I didn’t realize until I went to post this that it had a 3k word limit… this was definitely my bad but I’ve spent a week writing this and really didn’t want to scrap the whole thing to fit the word limit. I didn’t realize how carried away I got in the set up)

A/N: I have never written anything for Sam before, much less smut, but I wanted to give it a shot. I’m sorry if it’s totally OOC. I was trying to go off the knowledge that he’s canonically pretty rough in bed. I also couldn’t imagine him being super talkative and vocal. I don’t know, I’m just kinda stressed about this one. Also, this was probably definitely an inappropriate time for them to get down and dirty but my brain was glitching on any other idea so I hope you don’t hate it! Happy holidays!

________________

Sam Winchester.

The name alone made your blood boil.

You’d met the man for the first time, just before your hunting career began and quite frankly, you weren’t sure if you could ever truly forgive him for what he’d done.

–

It was the first semester of your senior year of college, a proud graduate-to-be of your dream university. Life had been great since you got to college. Old toxic relationships with people back home had practically disappeared, you’d formed a group of the best people you’d ever met, and your academics had been going strong.

Life was going great until people started disappearing only to turn up days later, slaughtered and nearly drained of blood. Anxiety was running high all across the board. The university even turned all night classes to online courses to prevent the likelihood of someone being abducted at night. Your best friend had started acting weird. She constantly shook as if she’d drank a pot of coffee for breakfast and was always looking over her shoulder. “It’s okay, Beth,” You tried to reassure her, “I know everyone is on edge but we’re doing everything we can to stay safe. Just make sure to bring your wooden stake in case the vampire attacks.” You chuckled weakly, knowing your nerve-fueled joke was definitely inappropriate considering that four people had actually died from whoever was out there but humor was a good coping mechanism.

Beth didn’t appreciate the joke at all and had run out of your apartment, disappearing. When she hadn’t returned by seven that night, you got worried enough to go look for her. Grabbing every self defense weapon you had, which was pepper spray, a pocket knife, and a key chain that looked cute but was actually a form of brass knuckles with sharp extrusions on it, you left your apartment to look for Beth, surprisingly well strapped.  

You started with her favorite spots: a hipster coffee shop on Main Street, Taco Bell, that one bench in the botanical gardens that overlooked the pond, and the fourth floor of the library. She was nowhere to be seen. You were on the verge of calling the police or those FBI agents that had been questioning people on campus, asking some weird questions from what people had told you. You’d never spoken with them but they did say to come to them with information if anyone had any. You didn’t but they’d be a good start to finding Beth. Where to find them though? Figuring it would be best to just start with campus police, you walked across campus, looking over your shoulder every few seconds. The hair on your neck stood on end and it was impossible to feel safe. Campus police was located on the opposite end of campus and the busses stopped running early on weekdays so walking was your only choice.

“No, please!” You heard a man whimper from somewhere in the trees to your side. You stopped in your tracks and your heart dropped to your stomach. Should you help? Should you run? Should you stay here and call 911?

But then you heard Beth’s voice, “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I can’t control it anymore!” And then screams. There were deafening screams of pain and you decided to say screw it. You ran down to try and protect your friend, even though you knew it was probably the last thing you’d ever do. This was stupid. What could you even do? Who knew what was down there attacking them?

When you saw them though, you stopped, skidding to a halt on the leaf covered hill. Beth was knelt over a man’s body, his backpack thrown to the side and ripped open. Though you were quiet, she must have heard you because her attention was whipped to you in an instant. Her face and shirt were covered in blood. It was obvious she’d been eating him or something along those lines.

You felt like a deer in headlights, utterly frozen in terror, denial, and confusion. “I can’t control myself anymore…” she admitted, a regretful sob hiccuping from her lips.

“Why?” You breathed out the question, silent tears falling. Whether they were for fear for your life or just the knowledge that someone you cared about could do something so horrible, you didn’t know.

Before she could answer, there was a loud bang and she fell dead. You flinched and covered your head, crouching instinctively from the gunshot. Your best friend slumped over dead and, despite the fact that you’d just watched her brutally murder some poor stranger, you couldn’t help but call out in shock and horror, “Beth!"

Two men came running down the hill, one of them to Beth’s body and the other to you. "She’s dead. Werewolf, just like we thought.” The man with short hair announced in a deep gruff voice.

“Are you alright?” The one who had come up to asked. He looked a little younger than the other, with longer hair too.

You were shaking, “What the hell just happened?"

"I know this is hard to understand but your friend over there… wasn’t human.” When he said it, you almost scoffed. Of course she was human. What the hell else would she be? Monsters weren’t real.

“You’re kidding me…” You said almost angrily. Then something hit you, “Wait, you’re those FBI detectives.”

The one with short hair walked up to you and the man talking to you. The taller one spoke again, “I’m Sam and this is my brother Dean. We aren’t really FBI. We hunt monsters. Monsters like your friend over there."

"She wasn’t a monster.” You said, a single tear finally falling down your cheek. Glancing over, you saw her lying dead on the ground, “Not the Beth I knew."

"Well then you didn’t know the real Beth because one look at that thing will tell you she ain’t human.” Dean told you bluntly.

Sam noticed the confusion, fear, and anger in your eyes. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen this. It was never easy to tell people they were close to the truth and he preferred to just stay out of it completely but that wasn’t an option this time. “Look, I know this is difficult to understand. But Beth was a werewolf. And yes, they are real. Most monsters are. We’ve been tracking her for weeks."

"W-was she always like this?” Your mind whirled as you struggled to comprehend, truly comprehend, what was happening.

Sam shook his head, “She was turned by a werewolf back in her hometown a few weeks ago. We tracked her from a pack we hunted down over there.” You remembered when she came back, she had a big bandage on her arm. When you asked about it, she brushed it off, saying she ate it racing her brother on longboards. It was probably the bite.

“The fact that she made it as long as she did without killing is honestly impressive. I’ve seen some turn and right away they’re slaughtering people.” Dean chimed in. You hoped their words would console you but they only served to make you angrier.

“So you’re telling me that she was attacked by a werewolf and then turned into one? She was probably terrified! She kept saying how sorry she was! You could have helped her! But you just killed her!” You screamed at them angrily.

“Your friend murdered a bunch of people. Once they turn, there’s no saving them. They’re killers.” Dean said with such conviction that it almost scared you.

Sam put a hand out to Dean, signaling for him to shut up, “There’s only one known way to stop the transformation but it has a really low success rate, is extremely painful, and needs to be administered almost right after the bite. I’m sorry.” He reached a hand out to comfort you but you dodged it, shrugging off his gesture and beginning to walk away.

“I need to go."

"Wait!” Sam called out behind you and you stopped.

“What?!” You snapped, spinning around to stare at him. It was rare that anyone dwarfed Sam Winchester but since you’d been walking up the small hill, you towered over him. The way you glared down at him made him jump.

His words faltered before he finally spoke, “You can’t tell anyone about this. If people knew monsters existed-"

"I’ll decide how I deal with the fact that my apparently werewolf best friend was just murdered by some dudes who think they’re Ghostbusters."

—

Sam saddled up to the bar next to you and promptly ordered two beers. You kept your eyes straight ahead, not sure of what you’d say to him if you made eye contact. You could feel him side eyeing you curiously. Finally, he looked over, "I’m sorry if this is strange but you look so familiar. Have we met?"

You swiveled in the chair to face him, "It’s been a while but yeah. We’ve met. Remember that werewolf at (your college)  about a year ago."

Realization dawned on his face, "Oh… I knew you looked familiar.” He didn’t sound excited like people usually did when they saw old friends because he knew you weren’t old friends. In fact, he assumed you felt quite the opposite and he understood why. “I never did catch your name."

"Y/N.” You informed shortly, taking a sip of your preferred poison.

Sam rocked back on his heels, “Well, uh, what are you doing out here?” It was Middletown, Arkansas, not exactly a happening place, so seeing you of all people here seemed almost too good to be a coincidence.

“I get the feeling the same reason you are.” You answered, eyebrows rising to infer a hunt.

It didn’t take long for Sam to figure what you meant, “Wait, you’re hunting now? Why?"

"After you guys left, I was devastated. You’d murdered my best friend,” you watched him sink into himself a little when you said that but continued seamlessly, “I was left alone with the sudden knowledge that monsters existed. I decided one day that I wanted to protect people like Beth. You know, the ones that innocently stumble into dangerous situations and have their lives ruined by a bite or scratch."

The tall Winchester brother was about to say something but Dean called from a few tables over, "Sammy!” He called out, pointing to a booth on the side wall. The bar was fairly busy for it being such a small town, with people playing pool or eating fries with their gin and tonics. Music played in the background and, though it wasn’t a song you knew off the top of your head, it sounded like every other dive bar in towns like this.

Sam held up a finger to his brother, begging pardon for just a second, before looking back over to you, “Look, I’m really sorry about everything. I really am. I know it doesn’t help but I’ve lost friends who were turned as well so I know how you feel.”

“Yeah, well, shit happens, right?” Your voice sounded anything but forgiving but it also wasn’t hostile either. It was more matter-of-fact. As much as you had hated Sam Winchester for what he had taken from you, if there was one thing you had learned over these last few months it was that shit really does happen. As hard as you tried, you really couldn’t save them all.

Sam glanced back over his shoulder to see Dean wiggling his eyebrows suggestively at him, clearly thinking you were someone Sam was trying to pick up for the night. Sam rolled his eyes and turned back to you, “If we’re both here for the vamp nest, then do you maybe want to come work with us?"

You thought for a moment. In all honesty, you had been under the impression that it was just one vampire wreaking havoc on the small town. Call it a novice mistake, because in all actuality, you really were still a relatively new hunter. One vampire you could take, a whole nest would be trickier. "Fine. But just so we don’t die."

You hopped off the barstool, glass of liquid fire in your hand, as you followed Sam back to the booth Dean was sitting at. At first, the older brother looked confused as to why his brother would bring his company for the night to meet him but didn’t say anything about it when you sat down beside Sam across the table from Dean.

"This is Y/N. She’s gonna help us work the case.” Sam announced, not leaving much room for objection.

Dean’s eyes studied you, “You look familiar. You’re a hunter?” He asked, trying to piece together why he recognized you.

You shrugged, “Am now but you know me from ‘bout a year ago when you guys killed my best friend. She was bit by a werewolf. Remember, that college girl?"

Realization dawned on his face, "Oh… yeah. Sorry about that but she was, y'know, a werewolf. So-” he shrugged insensitively, earning him a hard kick in the shin from Sam under the table. Dean looked back with that expression of 'what?’ That little kids had when they got in trouble.

“Well, anyways, she’s hunting now and is in town for the nest. I figured working together would be our best option.” Sam tried to be a peaceful moderator but it was hard when he knew how much you loathed him. It was frustrating, really, that you wouldn’t just see that Beth had become a monster. He understood that losing friends was hard but she had been killing innocent people.

“What’s the plan, then? We want to pick them off one by one so there’s less to fight at once or-” you began before Dean interrupted.

He shook his head, chewing some fries he’d shoved in his mouth while he spoke, “Nuh-uh. Gank the whole nest at once. Get 'em all in one place and torch it."

"Okay, well where’s the nest then?” You questioned.

Sam shrugged, “We don’t know yet. That’s what we gotta figure out."

"I have a file of police reports and eye witnesses on my laptop back at my hotel. I was just gonna grab a map of the town while I was out tonight to try and see if I could draw a location from the attacks.” You hadn’t planned on actually bringing work to do at the bar. You’d mostly come to see if you could overhear any drunken tales of vampires around town but it had been pretty dead as far as crazy stories so far.

Something behind you caught Dean’s attention and he leaned in close to you and Sam, “Hey, I’ll be back. Don’t wait up.” He said with a smirk and a wink.

As his brother stood, Sam threw his hand up in exasperation, “Where are you going?"

"Hopefully for a homerun.” Dean winked with a cocky smirk before walking away. You turned around to follow Dean with your gaze and immediately saw his target sitting at the bar, a beautiful African American woman with bouncing curls and a sultry smile on her berry stained lips. Honestly, you couldn’t’ say you blamed the older Winchester one bit.

Sam let out a huff of disappointment and rolled his eyes at his brother’s priorities. “Guess it’s just you and me then…” He groaned, not at the prospect of having to spend time with you but just at his brother’s laziness. Dean always managed to find an excuse out of the research part.

“Great.” You responded, unamused. Of the two brothers, Sam was the one you had an issue with- the trigger man on the night that changed your life. “Well, we should get a start on all this so we can get out of here sooner. If you didn’t get any food, you wanna head back to my room?”

The second the words left your mouth, you realized how it sounded and you became a bumbling mess, “Wait- I didn’t mean it like that! I just meant-”

Sam bit back a chuckle and raised his hand up off the table, motioning for you to stop, “It’s okay. It’s okay.” He laughed, long hair shining in the dim light as he moved to turn away from you with closed eyes while he chuckled. It really was a shame that he had done what he’d done to you. An opportunity with such a handsome man just had to be killed by his lack of compassion all those months ago.

You slid out of the booth, “Alright, well, I guess I’ll drive. Looks like Dean will be needing your car.” You smirked knowingly as you glanced over at Dean who had the woman he’d had eyes on in stitches over something he’d said.

Sam followed your lead, “Sounds good. I don’t think I want to be in the car after whatever they do anyways.”

Your black 2007 Honda Pilot was clean enough to not be totally embarrassed about but then you saw Sam’s little snort, “A Honda Pilot?”

“We can’t all have cool muscle cars or old trucks, jackass. I can go all terrain with decent gas mileage. Besides, I’d rather sleep in the back of this than your gas guzzler. She’s surprisingly spacious.” You defended your vehicle rather seriously, running your hand across the dash soothingly. The funny thing was that you’d really never been all too attached to the car until Sam insinuated insulting remarks about it.

“She?” He quipped with a raised brow, climbing into the passenger seat.

You slammed the door shut and started the engine, “Yes, she. Dahlia.”

Sam put his hands up, resigning his teasing assault on your car. The drive to the motel was short. You never really liked travelling too far from where you were staying when you didn’t have to. Hunting on your own, especially as a newbie, made you anxious. When you pulled into the parking lot, Sam looked out the window, “You’re staying here too?”

You looked over at him, “You guys are staying here?”

He nodded and patted his pockets, looking for the room key but quickly finding the gesture useless, “Room 24. You?”

“34. You must be right under me.” You said, again visibly cringing at your poor word choice, “You know what I mean.”

Sam tried his hardest not to smile, “Wasn’t gonna say anything.” He assured. You pulled into a space right in front of room 24 and parked. Sam followed you up to your room, which was relatively untouched still. You’d only arrived that morning so, aside from your bag of belongings that was thrown onto the single queen bed, the motel room was still as you had found it.

Sam closed the door behind the two of you and you grabbed your laptop from the bag. So many rooms you’d stayed in had little tables or desks but you quickly noticed that this one was lacking. As Sam awkwardly shuffled up to the bed where you sat casually, you noticed that there wasn’t really enough room for the two of you to work on the ground either.

With a huff, you scooted over, “You can sit on the bed. Just no shoes on the covers.” You had toed your own shoes off on the floor before tucking your legs underneath you. Sam sat beside you, careful to keep a respectful distance between your bodies, while you opened the lid of your laptop and began typing away.

“Alright, this is what I have so far.” You began.

Time became lost on you and Sam as midnight rolled around and you were still discussing the facts of the case. “I’m still confused as to why the hell you think Lenora’s body turning up on Seventh St and Jason’s body turning up on Hargrove Ave means the nest is on Willow Dr.” You were getting annoyed at Sam. In all honesty, you were annoyed at yourself for not seeing what he saw because as much as you hated to admit it, he was probably right. He and his brother hadn’t earned their reputations for being wrong. But, geez, why did it have to be Sam Winchester?

“Because it’s not so much Jason’s body. The old lady, Meredith, made a phone call to her nephew, saying she was at Willow Dr, just before she attacked.” Sam pointed at the map of the town with one finger while leaning his weight back on the bed. His other hand reached back to prop himself up but you quickly flinched away when you felt his rough fingers blindly land on your own.

Sam’s eyes shot wide when you felt your sudden movement, “‘M sorry.” He said, moving his hand closer to his body.

The contact made your heart race in a way that made you simultaneously crave his touch again and be angry at yourself for feeling that way.  You cursed yourself, scooting an inch or so away from Sam’s body. Clearly, your body was just blindly reacting after being touch starved for so long. You hadn’t so much as kissed anyone since before you became a hunter. It had to just be a primal reaction, nothing more.

“I’ll just take your word for it.” You grumbled, returning to the original matter at hand. You hated feeling like you were just letting him think he was right about everything but you were getting tired. “So what’s the plan? Gank ‘em all tomorrow night?”

Sam shrugged, “We’d have to talk to Dean. Most of them will probably be hiding in the nest in the morning to avoid the sun so at least they’d be in one place. But night gives us more time to plan. Who knows when he’ll be back.”

“Why don’t we just lure them all out into the sun and watch them burn?” You suggested, thinking it was a brilliant idea. You actually had yet to deal with vamps. This would be your first case hunting them and you were actually a little excited to learn something new.

The Winchester shook his head, “The sun doesn’t kill them. Think less Interview With a Vampire and more… bad sunburn.” He explained, “Have you never hunted one before?”

Again, you got defensive, “I’m still new at this. I mostly stick to werewolves and ghosts.” Admitting to yourself you needed to learn more was one thing. Admitting it to Sam was another.

He looked over at the gun on your nightstand, “Is that what you were gonna use?” He questioned, brows furrowed.

“No, I’m not dumb. I have some wooden stakes in the car.”

It took everything in Sam’s power to not laugh at you. At you felt like the wrong way to put it. He wasn’t laughing at you. He just found your determination to be a good hunter cute in an endearing way, even if you got your information from cheesy TV shows.

“What?” You asked, almost angrily, seeing the look of amusement on his face.

Sam shook his head, “Decapitation is the main way to kill vampires. Unless you have special bullets or weapons, cutting off the heads is the easiest way to go.”

Your jaw clenched and you turned away from him, upset that he of all people had to explain something that was apparently Hunter 101. You didn’t mind learning. Not knowing things typically was just an opportunity to pick something new up but this incident just felt like nails on a chalkboard.

“You know what? It looks like you and Dean have things handled here. I’m gonna go. Divide and conquer. I’ll just go find somewhere with monsters that I know about so you don’t have to babysit me.” You stood up aggressively, voice surprisingly calm and just almost convincing enough to make him think you weren’t being petty, which of course you were. You didn’t mean to be acting childish. It was just that running into Sam and Dean had been enough to handle. Having what was still left for you to learn shoved in your face was just the cherry on top.

Sam stood up after you, exasperated, “I didn’t mean it like that. You’re still new to this and everyone has to start somewhere. Hell, Dean and I are still learning new stuff all the time.”

“It’s not that. This was just a bad idea. I thought I could handle working with you but I can’t.” You shook your head, turning around just to reach around Sam’s body and grab the jacket that you’d discarded before shrugging it back over your shoulders. You started shoving the few things you’d unpacked- a gun, your laptop, and some files- back into your blue duffel bag.

Sam had always considered himself fairly level-headed and capable of dealing with difficult people but something in him snapped when he saw you packing up to leave over something so stupid, “Fine, go ahead and leave. We’ll deal with the nest without you. But you know what? Nobody asked you to get involved in hunting. You can’t just go run off every time someone dies.”

You scoffed, “I got into hunting to prevent people from dying. I got into hunting to try and save them from being killed by people like you!”

“You’re acting like we just kill everyone we come across. We kill monsters, Y/N. We save people by killing them. We prevent more people from getting turned into monsters by killing them. And you know what? Beth became a monster.” Sam’s voice raised to almost a yell as he gestured widely and aggressively.

“Beth was scared and you murdered her!” You shouted angrily, tears welling in your eyes.

“Beth was killing people!” Sam yelled at you before taking a moment to breathe, continuing more calmly, “Can’t you see that? Most of these monsters we hunt were just poor bastards in the wrong place at the wrong time. There’s not a lot we can do for people like that. But we can keep them from hurting others. If we had known there was a werewolf back in Beth’s hometown, we could have killed them before they could turn her and she would still be here. Would you be angry if we’d have killed the werewolf that turned her? Would you still be calling me a murderer?”

You chewed your tongue in your mouth hard, trying to use the physical pain to distract you from the urge to cry out of frustration. Why did he have to make sense? Why did he have to confirm every rational thought you’d ever had concerning the situation? You wanted to hate Sam Winchester for what he’d done but you knew deep down that it was never that simple. You knew he had a point but you didn’t want to admit it.

Sam saw the way your jaw clenched angrily, the way your throat moved as you swallowed hard, and the way your eyes glistened with unshed tears. He took a step closer to you and reached a gentle hand out towards your arm, “I am sorry that you lost your best friend.”

For some reason, the gentle sincerity of his voice is what broke you. Tears fell down your face in hot streams as you cried. They weren’t tears for Beth’s death. Those had long been drained from you, many nights spent mourning what you’d lost. These tears were for the final snap of your animosity for the Winchester. You had spent so long hating him. You wanted to hate him, needed to hate him, but how the hell were you supposed to do that when he looked you in the eye and truly meant it when he said he was sorry.

There was a twinge of pain in his own green eyes that made you realize that he truly had experienced the same sort of heartache that you did and that he was sincerely apologetic for being the cause of it. But it was also clear that, while he was sorry for hurting you, he was not sorry for what he had done. Part of the cause for your tears was that you were angry with yourself for not being able to hate him, despite knowing that he didn’t regret killing Beth. You were crying because he was right. She had become a monster and, in his shoes, you probably would have done the same thing. You would have shot your best friend.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, voice shaky as you did.

Sam used his light grip on your arm to pull you in slowly for a hug, his large arms enveloping you in a surprisingly comforting embrace. You buried your face into his flannel, tears staining the fabric. One of his large hands gently cradled the base of your head while his other rubbed up and down your shaking back.

He didn’t know what to say anymore. Your response had honestly surprised him. The girl that he was used to receiving nothing but animosity from was now shaking in his arms and apologizing. “It’s okay,” was all Sam could think to mutter out.

He held you like that for a while, though you weren’t sure exactly how long it was. It could have been thirty seconds or thirty minutes and you would be none the wiser but all you knew was that you didn’t want Sam to let you go and, for once, you didn’t hate yourself for it. The tears had dried, leaving only slightly stiff feeling skin in their place. Your breath had long since stopped leaving your lungs in wracked hiccups. Your arms had moved from resting on his broad chest to being loosely wrapped around his waist at some point.

You pulled back first, lifting your head from his chest but keeping your hands on his body still. Sam lifted his cheek off your head, where it had been residing in a surprisingly soft show of affection, and he gazed down at you. You were amazed by how completely you had let your rage blind you. Before tonight, Sam was nothing more than scum to you but now, looking into his eyes after forgiving him, you realized that he was easily one of the most beautiful men you’d ever laid your eyes on.

Even with the tears now gone, Sam still saw the dim light of the cheap motel lamp sparkled against the color of your irises and damn if it wasn’t beautiful. He slid his hand up from your shoulder to gently brush away a few thin strands of hair that had stuck to your cheek while it was pressed against his chest- a feeling he found himself missing. His breath caught in his throat when you reached up to cover his hand with your smaller one, pressing it gently to stay on your cheek.

Your eyes slid closed and you gently nuzzled against his hand before opening your eyes again, reaching around his neck, and oh so slowly pulling him down while you perched on your tiptoes. There was more than enough time for Sam to pull away but he didn’t. In fact, much to your surprise, he closed the gap between you faster. His lips pressed to yours, rougher than you anticipated, but enjoyably nonetheless.

The breath was knocked out of your lungs and you struggled to breathe against his lips but refused to pull away. You bit his lip gently while you kissed, slipping your tongue against his when he gave in to what you were craving.

Sam reached down under your ass and lifted you without you even needing to jump. A squeal of surprise was swallowed by his lips as he walked you both to the bed. Once his legs bumped the old mattress, he sat down, lowering you to land on his lap. Your knees fell to either side of his hips where you gave an experimental rotation of your hips against his clothed erection. He let out a strangle exhalation at the friction, his fingers digging into your ass and pulling you harder onto him. The fabric of his rough jeans rubbed delicious against your clothed core, a wetness beginning to form in your panties.

Slowly, you pressed your weight forward and Sam allowed you to push him onto his back. You laid on top of him, lips moving from his lips down his neck but he didn’t let you get far. Sam placed a supportive hand on the small of your back and managed to flip you both over so he was on top and before you knew it, he was devouring you. Lips kissed hot trails across your face and down your neck, across the tops of your breasts that were ever so slightly revealed by your v-neck t-shirt.

Your fingers tangled in his long hair and he let out a breathy groan when you tugged on the brunette locks, pulling him closer to you. Sam crawled down your body, his hands sliding up underneath your shirt to run across your burning skin beneath. He felt like heaven and hell all in one, burning with fiery lust and yet so sweet and comforting despite the fervor with which he moved.

You pushed yourself up, pushing Sam to sit back on his knees while you did, all without breaking the kiss, to shrug off your jacket. Your shirt was next, falling onto the floor with your jacket before Sam pushed you backwards again, your back hitting the mattress. His large hand started low your belly, running straight up between the valley of your breasts and then raking downwards, pulling the cups of your bra down and grazing your nipples deliciously with his calloused fingers.

It had been so long since you’d been touched like this that even the small act had your back arching into his body. “Sam…” You breathed out, eyes sliding closed at the sensation. Every flick against your sensitive buds sent a shock straight to your core that had you hooking your leg around his hip, pulling him closer into you. Your hands ran up and down his large biceps before moving to pull the sleeves of his flannel down his arms. He only pulled away from you long enough to throw the restricting clothing on the ground, his shirt joining short after.

Your mouth started physically salivating at the sight of the man before you, sculpted by the gods. Defined pectorals and rippling abs covered his torso, adorned with a symbol that looked like a pentagram inside of a sun- a symbol you were unfamiliar with. Sam didn’t give you much time to marvel though because he was back to kissing a line down your body, the light stubble of his beard tickling the sensitive skin of your neck and chest. He stopped to revel in your breasts, wiggling his hands under your body to expertly unclasp your bra and shimmy it off you. The second they were revealed to him, his tongue was dragging across the supple sick and his teeth were lightly nibbling at the sensitive buds.

“Oh my gosh-” You let out in a breathy giggle. Sam switched breasts, giving the other equal attention. Your fingernails raked lightly over his shoulders and across his chest and you felt Sam shiver at the touch. His lips trailed lower and lower until they found the waistline of your jeans. With a quick flick of his fingers, the button was popped and the denim material was dragged down your legs, taking your socks with them as they were pulled over your ankles. He kissed his way back up your legs, from ankle until he slowly inched closer and closer to where you wanted him most.

His scruff scraped along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs and you bit your lip at the sensation, unsure if you were trying to hold back a giggle from the ticklish feeling or a moan from the shocks it sent to your core. Sam chuckled to himself when he saw the wet patch of cloth over your clothed heat. He’d barely touched you and you were already dripping for him.

He had a wicked idea though. He got closer and closer to your sex, the smell intoxicating, and gripped your thighs tightly, possibly leaving bruises. Just when his lips were about to land on your core, he moved to the left, kissing your hip bones instead and back up your belly.

Annoyed by the teasing, you sat up, pulling Sam up gently by the hair to be face to face with you. Your ass was a few inches from the edge of the bed, toes just touching the ground, when you pushed Sam back just enough to be able to reach his pants. You hooked your fingers into the belt loops on either side of his pelvis and pulled him close to you. His forehead pressed flush against yours, “Are you gonna keep being a tease or are you gonna fuck me already, Winchester?”

Sam didn’t need to be told twice. He made quick work of his remaining clothing and hovered over you like a predator about to move in for the kill. “You want me to just fuck you already?” He mimicked, voice low and testing. His green eyes bore into your own orbs with a challenge that you refused to back down from.

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” You challenged, standing up and sliding your underwear down your legs, all while keeping unyielding eye contact with Sam. Once they left your form with a small flick of your toes, a dark smirk krept up on his face.

“Turn around.” He demanded and, while you were inwardly more than happy to comply, you didn’t want him to think he had you quite that easy.

You rolled your eyes as you did, an sinful smirk playing on your lips, “Yes, sir.” You chimed sarcastically.

Before you knew it, you were bent over at the waist, face and chest pressed into the mattress by Sam’s nearly crushing body. His hand snaked around your front, picking up some of your slickness on his fingers before circling your clit while he growled in your ear, “Don’t know what the attitude’s about. You’re the one who asked to get fucked.”

Your knees quivered at his filthy words while his fingers worked your clit slowly and painfully. His rock hard erection rubbed along your ass, teasing your entrance every now and again as he rocked his hips against your body. He stood up and removed his hand from your clit. Your hips moved back, trying desperately to chase his fleeting touch. Sam groaned when your body slid over his cock, skin burning against his own. After a few experimental tugs at his own member, he positioned himself at your entrance, giving you a few moments to back out if that was what you’d wanted. Backing out was so far from what you wanted though. You wanted - nay, needed - him inside of you and you needed him now. You were convinced you’d combust if he made you wait any longer.

His hands landed on your hips to help guide a slow thrust forward. His length gradually entered you, the searing stretch to accommodate him making your muscles contract around him. Sam hisses out a sound of pleasure, “You’re so tight.”

His first few thrusts were slow, each time managing to grind impossibly deeper into you. “Fuck, Sam.” Your fingers wound tightly in the sheets with each thrust of his hips and your eyes screwed shut as your breaths came out almost as hisses through grit teeth.

Sam used his leverage on your hips to move your body in time with his thrusts. Each motion sent your body into the mattress, the bed shaking as he pounded into you. You let out little squeaks of pleasure every now and again but Sam wanted to hear more out of the girl who’d had nothing to say to him but spiteful things for so long.

A large hand came to clasp around your throat, not tight enough to choke you but enough to guide you up. You pressed your body up to your feet sloppily on your hands but standing proved to be a difficult task with Sam still moving relentlessly into you. Your thighs were shaking, barely able to support your weight, as this new angle allowed for Sam to hit that spot inside you that made your toes curl. His hand stayed around your throat, tightening along the sides of your neck when he lost himself in the way you felt around him- warm and soft. You were grateful that he was letting your head lull back against his shoulder otherwise you weren’t sure if you’d be able to stay upright.

Sam’s free hand first sloppily groped around the front of your chest until it found one of your breasts, kneading it roughly. The rough skin of his fingers grazed your nipples yet again, only adding to the pleasure you felt below. The knot was tightening and it was tightening fast.

“Please-” You managed to gasp out, not because of the choking (his grip wasn’t that tight) but because the electricity in the room seemed to have stolen your voice. Sam’s hand moved from your nipples down to your clit where he rubbed fast tight circles. “Oh my gosh, yes!” You whined, reaching up overhead to tangle your fingers in his hair. You forced his mouth down to meet yours and the pressure in your core snapped. Your moans and cries of pleasure were swallowed by Sam’s lips and he could have swallowed a thousand more.

He worked you through your orgasm until your body went limp in his arms. Slowly, he came to a stop before pulling out and quickly working himself in his hands. After catching your breath though, you turned back to Sam, placed your hands on his shoulders, and used them to spin the two of you around and push him back onto the bed. His long legs hung over the edge and you settled yourself between his knees, gently grasping his member, still slick with your wetness, and worked him with your hand.

Sam lied back on the white duvet, head thrown back in bliss at your touch. Your hand felt so much better than his own as it worked up and down his shaft before coming up to circle around the tip. He was rock hard and ready to burst at any given moment. When you leaned forward to like a long stripe along the underside of his cock, he was done for. A few more pumps and Sam fell apart in your hand, painting your hand and his stomach with his seed. “Shit!” The muscles of his abs contracted mesmerizingly as the waves of his high rolled over him.

Your hand slowed as his climax came to an end, his member softening in your hand. You wiped the mess he’d made on your hand on your breasts and stomach, knowing it would be easier to keep those parts of you off the covers than your hand. With a heavy sigh of crashing relief, your body fell onto the mattress beside Sam and you both stared at the ceiling in a fucked out post-coital haze.

“So, does this mean you don’t hate me anymore?” Sam asked after a few moments, surprising you with the genuine tone behind the semi-joking question.

You stared up at the chipping popcorn ceiling, “I didn’t for like two seconds but now I do again just because those were the first words out of your mouth.” Your voice was steady, unwavering, and Sam cringed inwardly, avoiding eye contact entirely. That is, until you sighed and continued, “But, I guess, if you wanted to take me out for a drink sometime there’s a slim chance I wouldn’t object.” This time, there was a teasing smile on your face when you turned your head to look at Sam.

#spnsecretsantaficexchange #SPN #supernatural #Sam Winchester #sam winchester smut #sam winchester fic #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x y/n #jared padalecki #jared padalecki smut #jared padalecki imagine

[capricornus-rex]

Hey hi!! I just wanna say first that I love your writing and you just capture Cal so well and your talent oml we stan 🙌 would you take a prompt of Cal being very confused as to why his girlfriend keeps crying every five seconds because he has no idea at first what's even happening and like it takes him a minute to put it together (it can be that time of the month or it can be pregnancy hormones, whatever's easiest, I'm sorry hormones made ya girl emotional and moody) pls & thanks!🙇

Hi Anon! First of all, thank you so much!! 🥺💞 Second, I AM SO SORRY that this took a while!! I know I shouldn’t be overusing the excuse that I’m swamped with requests and my fics tend to be more than just oneshots, but that’s the predicament right now. I hope you understand 😭😔 Anyways, I’m glad you still took the time to write to me ;;w;; I just feel reaallly bad that I made you wait long. Still, I hope you enjoy the fic, anon and thank you too!

Chapter 4: Untimely Blessing | Cal Kestis x Reader

Summary: After a long time of running and fighting, you and Cal decided to finally settle down after all these years to raise a family. However, it was never a life of peace whilst the shadow of the Empire looms over your heads.

Other prompt/s in play: Anon 1′s prompt, Anon 2‘s baby prompt & Own fic idea

Also posted in AO3

Tags: Scruffy! Cal Kestis, Daddy! Cal Kestis, Adult! Cal Kestis, Jedi Family, Jedi Offspring, Force-Sensitive Offspring, Settling Down, Rebel Alliance

Chapters: 1 – 2 | Previous: Part 3 | Next: Part 5 | Masterlist

4 of ?

The weather was nice in Cerinda. Cal had been practicing with a self-made obstacle course in the forest, west of the lake where your wedding was held; meanwhile, you decided to take a breather by your wedding venue. You almost hated to admit that you couldn’t walk for perhaps a day and a half after that little private time you had in the Mantis with your husband.

About three weeks have already passed after that.

And for those three weeks, there was this feeling swirling in the pit of your stomach. Cal had noticed you craving for a lot of sweets—especially Jogan berries and space waffles—and you yourself felt sluggish, so you decided to sit by the sidelines of the training course.

While he had physical training, you meditated by the lake’s shore where it was tranquil. The peace helped you in getting into focus.

Your skin suddenly crawled in a good way, even though you were taken aback, you kept your eyes closed trying to keep yourself concentrated; but you ended up reminiscing how Cal’s lips trailed along your body, how his hands wandered and sank into your flesh. The feeling of his lips suckling at the exact same spots where he left his love bites jolted your nerves—your hand rubbed across your neck, chest, and shoulder and then crawled downward to your abdomen. You chuckled to yourself as the memories replayed in your head, struggling to remain focused.

“BD-1, over here!” Cal’s distant voice rang among the trees, but that didn’t distract you enough.

Suddenly, something was bubbling in your stomach and you could feel it rising to your throat each second. Your eyelids shot up and you fumbled onto fours, crawling away to anywhere until your entire body gave way, and allowed yourself to retch behind a tree trunk.

You coughed and spat out the bile, you clumsily crawled towards the edge of the lake, scooping a handful of water to your mouth to wash off the sour acidity that lingered in your cheeks. You did this for a couple of times until the taste was truly gone.

“Oh my…” you gasped, crawling away from the spot where you had your little accident and lay flat on the grass.

Your hand hesitated to crawl downward, to your lower abdomen just below your navel; your heart pounded with mixed emotions—you can’t pinpoint if you’re excited, nervous, or completely taken by surprise. But you’re primarily the latter, you just needed a second emotion to balance it out.

“Could it be…?” you mumbled.

You took a deep breath before your hand slithered below your navel, calming your heart of the eagerness—just to avoid breaking it if it wasn’t the case—and when your whole palm padded against your lower abdomen…

You felt it.

A tiny kick.

A little pulse.

Your heart leapt. You gasped—supposedly a laugh, but you were overtaken by emotion—your fingers rubbed across your tummy again.

There it is again!

“Aww…” you fawned, on the verge of happy tears.

Cal came out of the trees’ trail, spotting you lying down on the grass with your hand on your stomach. He bobbed his head to the side, quizzically looking at you wiping away a tear while standing at a distance.

“[y/n]?” he called to you, kneeling by your side on the grass.

Your attention shifted to his direction. He sat there next to you with a slightly confused look—mixed with a hint of concern for you.

You quickly propped yourself on your elbows, and then shifted to your knees. His nervous eyes followed your position.

“Are you alright?”

“Cal…” you started. Unable to say the words—even though they’re already at the tip of your tongue—you take both of his hands and reeled them to your stomach.

Your husband’s eyes widened. His smile stretched from ear-to-ear when he felt the ripple of life coming from within you. His heart bounced in perhaps the fastest beat it has ever beaten in years.

“Cal, I’m pregnant!” you announced.

BD-1 trilled a long note in reaction, the little droid is just as surprised as his owner is!

The redhead stammered and blinked away several times, struggling to gather all the words he needed to express; when he cradled your face in his hands, you could feel just from his touch that he was bursting with sheer, indescribable happiness. He exhaled sharply, his breath warm as he touched foreheads with you.

“This… This is wonderful!” he gasped. He couldn’t speak further, acting purely on impulse, he closed in to kiss you—he pressed his lips long and hard to yours. “We’re having a baby!”

The forest echoed with your laughter. Cal snatched you into his arms and held you for so long as he buried his face into your neck, muffling his continuous laughing, and slowly rocked you back and forth.

Cal remained with you by the lake for the rest of the afternoon, he couldn’t take his hands off of your stomach; he wanted to keep feeling for the faint pulse of the conceived child in your womb. He started to daydream about the games he and the baby would play, how they would turn out to be—if they’ll have your eyes or his, if they’ll take after their mischievous father or their headstrong mother, whatever the case, he has already loved them the moment he felt the smallest beat.

—–

It was your third month since the conception of your child. The first few weeks were difficult and overwhelming, considering that this is your very first pregnancy. Luckily, you had help with Merrin and Cere. Still, it felt like your energy was slowly ebbing way as the weeks went by.

To avoid getting rusty with your combat skills, you continued to practice your swings, spins, and flourishes without using getting to the more acrobatic moves that required jumps and wide strides. Cal also kept a close eye on you when it comes to practicing, seeing that you’re still eager for sparring.

“I am so against this!” he exclaimed.

“Come on, the training droids aren’t really doing much help!” you whined.

He wagged his finger at you as if scolding a child, “Only one round, okay? Whoever wins, that’s that.”

“Deal!”

Even if you were still itching for action, you moved with the greatest caution and care—both for yourself and your baby—you improvised the moves that were usually lively, you replaced the low ducks and slides with spinning, dance-link evasions that still eluded an attack in the same grace.

However, the power and strength of your sword arm didn’t seem to dull over time. You fenced with your husband—the contrast in the lightsaber techniques have become more obvious now, and he was being careful himself, he knew that you didn’t want to take it easy and so he came at a compromise.

“Aha!” he exerted as he had you at swordpoint.

“Okay, you got me. Deal’s a deal,”

“That’s my girl,” he cooed.

“Don’t be so smug, love. I want another try next week,”

When you got back to the Mantis, you staggered on your footing for a few seconds. It was a good thing Cal caught you before you slammed your back against the ship’s wall.

“How are you feeling, [y/n]?” asked Cere.

“A little lightheaded, more often than I probably should,”

“Usually, that becomes quite the norm, especially when a mother’s at her third month,” Merrin added.

“Is that so…?”

A few seconds later, the lightheadedness was gone and you settled yourself on the couch next to Merrin. Like the entire crew, everyone was so delighted to hear the news. First the engagement, then wedding, and now a baby!

But the most excited one is Merrin; if not Cal, the Nightsister was constantly by your side. She was practically your sister ever since. She offered to mix up potions that would help in easing your pregnancy without harming both you and the child; she was also the one who gave the most advice.

“My mother herself was a midwife, besides being an acolyte. She taught me everything, even if I never saw myself being in the same position as her,” the Nightsister disclosed.

Nevertheless, she was still delighted for your bundle of joy. The two of you traded secret wishes and future daydreams revolving around the child.

One evening, in the middle of the night where everyone had gone to sleep, you jumped out of bed, rushing towards the bathroom to vomit… again. For the second time this day. Earlier, Merrin had concocted a potion that was said to help ease the tensing of the belly, so the cramping would lessen for a few hours. For a while, that potion seemed to have worked—but it didn’t stop you from running to the bathroom just to retch it out again.

Cal was awakened by the abrupt shuffling of the bed, he heard the faint pitter-patter of your bare footsteps leave the room and followed you to the bathroom.

“No, not again…!” he heard your hushed voice as you rushed out of the room.

The sound of your retching was muffled behind the door. Bile exited your stomach, leaving a stinging feeling in your core. You ended up crying in exchange of not straining yourself and hurting your baby in the process. You struggled to cough out what’s left, but only clear saliva spat out of your mouth.

Your kneecaps suddenly softened, your grip around the sink’s rim was your remaining support to keep yourself from falling to the ground. Suddenly, you felt an arm coil around your waist and a hand rubbing across your back.

“Hey,” your husband cooed. “Are you okay?”

You sniffled, washing away the dribble on your nose, but you didn’t answer.

“Are you hurting?” he continued.

“I keep feeling sick,” you sobbed, rubbing the bridge of your nose as you try to fight back the tears. “Merrin’s potion works, but only for the cramps.”

Anxiety was also a constant in your visits to the bathroom during the wee hours. You hated yourself for stressing out on bad dreams, you always had to bite your knuckles when breaking down to muffle out the cries behind the bathroom door.

Swallowing the lump in your throat did little in repressing your tears, some droplets escaped your eyes, Cal spotted them instantly and wiped them away with his thumb.

“It’s okay, I’ll stay with you until you feel like sleeping,” he consoled as he guided you out of the bathroom when you were ready.

“You don’t have to do this, you need to go back to sleep,” you gently scolded.

“You’re my wife,” he said firmly, a steely yet gentle look in his eyes glinted. “I’ll be here for you. Anything you need, okay?”

You hoisted and folded your legs, leaning against Cal’s shoulder as you try to calm yourself down. He feels for your stomach again, speaking to his unborn child through his mind.

Don’t give Mommy a hard time, sweetheart. He prayed as his lips nuzzled your temple while stroking your hair.

Two more months have passed. It’s the fifth month now, your belly had grown significantly. The morning sicknesses have seemed to lessen as time went on, however, in exchange it has become a little bit more difficult to move. The weight that you carried along with you has become more apparent; but that didn’t matter to you, all you could think about is the baby and you looked forward to its kicking. You and Cal sat together in the couch by the holotable, he now uses both hands to hold your stomach and found that they could no longer contain your belly.

“Oh, there’s a little kick,” he giggled.

You bobbed your head to the side, leaning against your own arm as you stare at Cal. You didn’t even realize that he must have shaved his stubble for just a little bit. Your knuckles stroked his beard and then your skin suddenly felt the smoothness of his freckled cheeks; his lips followed to where your palm is and nuzzled in for a kiss. When turned to you, his smile dissolved when he spotted a tear that you yourself didn’t even notice.

“Something the matter?”

“I’m a little scared, a little nervous. I mean… I’m so close now, Cal. I don’t even know if I—”

“Hey, you’re gonna be great,” he cuts in. He gingerly caressed your nape, fingernails raking the bottom of your hair, “I promise.”

He leaned closer to plant a long and tender kiss on your forehead. He kept his hands on your tummy, feeling for his baby, and he started guessing.

“It’s definitely a boy,” he beamed. “A kick that hard? Definitely.”

“Oh-ho, so someone’s gonna take your title of being the ‘One Who Kicks Ass’ in the Mantis?” you played along.

“Aww, he’s gonna have to get through me to steal my crown!”

#cal kestis #cal kestis fic #cal kestis x reader #cal kestis x reader fic #scruffy! cal kestis #daddy! cal kestis #adult! cal kestis #jedi family #jedi offspring #force-sensitive offspring #settling down #rebel alliance #rebels #star wars #sw #star wars fic #sw fic #star wars jedi fallen order #star wars jedi fallen order fic #swjfo #sw jfo #swjfo fic #sw jfo fic #jedi fallen order #jedi fallen order fic #jfo fic #jfo #for anon #anons #multiple anons

[otome--fantasy]

Of Demons and Dragons

Ikemen Sengoku Imagine: Being able to turn into a dragon.

Ch.6

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of dark themes, mentions of alcohol consumption

You hadn't ment to fall asleep while you groomed your scales, you weren't even aware you had dozed off till an absolutely blood curdling scream and the sound of something wooden clattering to the floor woke you up. With a suprised grunt, your eyes shot open and you attempted to stand, causing you to bump your head and the points of your antlers hard against the cieling. You wriggled and writhed in a panic, desperately trying to move around as you had forgotten where you were.

"Princess?!?!"

Your head snapped to the open door to see a terrified Kinu, shaking with her hands covering her mouth, and the tray of food she had been carrying splayed out on the flooring. Your own eyes widened in suprise, but you quickly snapped out of it when she moved to run away. Without thinking, you lunged for her, catching her with your teeth by the back of her obi and pulling her into the med bay before using your nose to shut the door - all while she screeched in fear for her life.

"Kinu!" You called her name to try and get her attention, but she couldn't hear you over all her screaming. With a huff, you carried her to the center of the room. She was struggling and beginning to sob and hyperventilate as she tried to free herself from your grasp.

"Kinu!" She gasped and paused in her frightened fit at the sound of your voice.

"P-princess?!" She looked around the room, unsure of where your voice had originated from.

"I'm right here, Kinu."

She visibly froze and looked behind her to see you, "Oh goodness...!" The poor girl looked like she was on the verge of tears, "The beast ate you princess?!"

You sighed through your nose and rolled your eyes before gently putting her down on the floor and released her, "No Kinu," you corrected, "It is me."

She swallowed a thick lump in her throat, "Huh...?" And looked up up at you with her jaw dropped and eyes wide, "P-princess?"

"Yes, Kinu," you tilted your head slightly to the side, right ear twitching as you gazed at your maid. You briefly wondered how many times you would have to reiterate this.

"Wha-wha-what happened to you?" Her voice was shaky as she trembled, causing her to stutter.

"Nothing," you blinked, "I am the same as I've always been."

"But-but you're a...uh-"

"Dragon," you finished for her.

"Yes," her breathing was still erratic, but she was beginning to calm down. She collapsed into a sitting position on the floor as she watched you shift back to normal. She scrambled on all fours to hand you your robe once you had finished and she realized you were naked, "I came to collect you for your bath, Milady..."

She seemed afraid of you, but you couldn't really blame her. "Thank you," you gave her a small smile, taking the robe and sliding it on before securing it. Kinu simply nodded and staggered back to her feet, before silently motioning for you to follow. You trailed after her to the bath house where everything was laid out - towels on the racks, bath nice and hot, and some scrubbing rags by the tub.

"Well, miss," Kinu kept it formal, too on edge to be as open as she had previously been with you, "I'll leave you to it."

"Actually, Kinu," You called to her before she could exit the room, "I could use your assistance."

She turned back to see you sliding off your robe and climbing the steps to enter the bath. She gulped and silently made her way back to you while you settled into the tub. A small sob bubbled from within her throat. What were you going to do with her? Did she know too much? Were you going to drown her in the tub for finding out your secret? You could simply say that she slipped and fell into the tub while she was preparing it and no one would question a thing. Tears welled up in her eyes and slowly trickled down her face, "Miss?"

"You have a body scrub I can use, yes? And a brush?"

She nodded, walking over to the shelf on the back wall and pulled down a wooden box before placing it on one of the steps and opening it. She pulled out a brush, a bowl, and a few jars - opening them before pouring a bit of the contents into the mixing bowl. First she poured some pure white sand into the bowl, followed by ground salt. You watched her with curious eyes as she added a few herbs, oils, and other plants, "I thought salt was valuable?"

Maybe you had your history wrong, but you thought salt used to be very rare back in the old days. It was even sometimes treated as a commodity by some countries. "In places without easy access to the sea, yes. Besides, this is a special stash we keep for important guests."

Made sense.

After she mixed the ingredients thoroughly, you saw her peal what looked like an aloe vera leaf and add it to create a lotion-like substance. She then picked up the bowl and walked around the bath to the side you were leaning against and set it down on the top step, before taking a seat herself. She was obviously nervous, and was using the home made bath scrub as a fidgeting tool - constantly stirring it even after it had been consistently mixed.

"You have questions," you broke the silence and heard a sharp intake of air from her.

"T-the others, Milady," it took her a moment to gather her thoughts, and fight back the sobs that racked her body enough to form a coherent question, "d-do they know?"

"No, they are unaware," you sighed, making the silent decision not to tell her about Mitsuhide. She was shaken up enough as it was, you don't need to give the girl even an inkling that you may have threatened him.

"O-oh," she sighed. So you were in hiding? "W-what exactly are you, Milday?" There was still a bit of shakiness to her voice.

"A dragon."

"Are there more of you?" She gently began to brush your hair in an effort to give her hands something to do other than shake. She was careful when removing all the knots that had accumulated over the semi-long period of neglect. You took this moment to ponder where your ancestors would be in this current time period.

"Yes," she paused along with you before the both of you continued, "I think at around this time my kind was- are divided. Some of us live among the people, but most of us live in more remote places away from civilization."

Kinu stopped her motions once again, but this time she leaned over the edge of the tub so she could look at you, "Why?"

"I suspect because of the hunters."

Her brows furrowed in concern, people hunted dragons? Were there some hunting you? Well that explained why you hid yourself, and though it wasn't the full reason - had she voiced it she wouldn't be entirely wrong, "Hunters?"

"Yes there were-" you corrected yourself, "are many of them these days. Most of us think living with humans isn't worth the possibility of being killed, so we live secluded in very hidden locations."

"Oh," she seemed to sadden at this, before placing the washcloth into the bowl, and began to wash your shoulders, working her way to your neck before scrubbing back out towards your arms. She thought about your explanation, as well as the way you had been treating everyone since your arrival. She thought your confidence among the warlords was something to be admired - especially in the eyes of she and the more timid maids, and you had been fairly kind to her and the other servants thus far, "Well I think that truly is a great loss to the world that you should all stay hidden."

You chuckled at her naive view, but you couldn't blaim her, ignorance was bliss in this case but also dangerous. You were the only one of your kind she'd probably ever met (knowingly), "Most of us avoid people like the plague."

She tilted her head, not understanding the phrase, though whether is was due to lack of schooling or because Japan had yet to hear of the plague was beyond you, "But those of us who do live among you all," you sneared as you recalled the history of your people, "Nasty."

Oh yes, there was no end to the list of abhorrent things your kind did to the humans back in the old days. Sure there were some who just wanted to live peaceful lives along side strangers who looked like them, but others... human trafficking and cannibalism (can it be called that?) to name a few.

"What do you mean, miss?" Surely it couldn't be any worse than some of the things people already did to each other, and on some levels she was right, but still, "You don't want to know."

Kinu took that as her cue to shut her mouth before she continued scrubbing, but she stopped when you turned around to face her, "Would you head back to my room and prepare everything for me?" You looked at her with soft eyes and a kind smile. This was probably a lot for her to take in, and you wanted to give her a moment to sort herself out.

"Well sure, Milady. Was there a particular kimono you had in mind," she smiled feeling a bit more at ease now that the two of you had time to talk.

"No, I trust your judgment," besides, she probably knew better than you what would be more appropriate for an occasion such as this. Her smile widened, and she nodded before heading off to go prepare everything for you, and once you heard the door shut you let out a sigh. Today had not been the best, but hopefully from here on out things would get better.

You finished up your bath - scrubbing off all the unseen dirt and grime that must have accumulated from your many days without self care, before drying off, grabbing a new robe, and sliding it on to head back to your room. You must have been in there for at least an hour and a half, because when you returned there were two mugs of water on your dresser along with another full of elixer.

Kinu looked up from smoothing out the kimono that had been laid out for you and followed your gaze, "Ah yes, Lord Ieyasu said he wanted you to drink at least one glass of water and your next dose of elixer before you went to the feast."

You gave Kinu a tight smile accompanied by a small humourless laugh, "Yes, of course," that was the first thing you did after closing the door behind you - hoping that the preparations for tonight would take long enough that both drinks wouldn't spoil your dinner too much. At first you weren't going to drink the second glass of water, but the medicine seemed to be getting worse everytime you drank it, so the extra glass was useful for getting rid of the disgusting aftertaste.

You now stood in front of a mirror that had been brought to your room to dress you and eyed the choice of design on your kimono rather curiously. There was an embroidery of a large dragon that stretched from below your waist line to the bottom of the kimono, the main color matched that of your scales, the stitched dragon matched your secondary colors, and the floral designs that served as a background for the dragon added a variety of color. Your hair was in a nice bun with loose curls and decorative accessories of flowers here and there. You almost didn't recognize your reflection staring right back at you, and you remained silent till the other maids left.

"You look beautiful, Princess," Kinu smiled, the imagery of the designs of your Kimono ironically flying over her head - even just after your conversation, though you wondered if she had done this intentionally.

"Kinu, did you pick this for me?" You turned and gave her a gentle smile, wanting her to know that, if she had, she wasn't in trouble, but if she hadn't-

"No, Mitsuhide arrived while I was looking for a suitable kimono, and said that you had requested to wear this specific one." She smiled at you through the mirror, oh so happy and blissfully unaware of what had transpired between you and the kitsune, "I assumed you thought of something you really wanted to wear and had changed your mind."

Fuck you, Mitsuhide.

"Oh yes," you laughed humorlessly, "How could I have forgotten," the smile didn't fade from your expression, though it didn't quite reach your eyes.

"Is something wrong, Princess?" Kinu, having been a servant for many years, recognized even the most subtle change in mood.

"No," you reassured her by turning to place a hand on her shoulder, "It's beautiful."

She placed a hand atop yours and returned your smile, "No, Milady, you're beautiful."

After a moment your turned back to look in the mirror and sighed. Kinu made a last minute check of your attire before she was sure you looked perfect. She smoothed out any wrinkles or creases that had gone unnoticed, and straightened out your obi. The outfit wasn't ceremony fancy, or 'trophy princess' flashy, but it was very obvious a lot of time and effort had gone into it and you appreciated every detail.

Once Kinu was sure everything was in its place, she escorted you to the mess hall where you undoubtedly turned heads. You caught the attention of the warlords who had been conversing with each other, and a few of the vassals gawked at you. You were not quite sure where your place was in all this, till Nobunaga waved you over to an empty seat between he and Masamune.

"I'll leave you to it, Milady," Kinu smiled before she turned to leave, but you stopped her by grabbing her arm, "You aren't going to eat with us?"

She shook her head, "The servants normally eat separately from the vassals and in private."

Your brows furrowed and you glanced at Nobunaga before looking back towards her. You had words, but she placed her hand on the one you had used to grab her and held it, "It's okay, Milday. It's this way so there are people to serve and bring the food out to the others," she giggled, "And there are no servants for servants, so we all just eat in the kitchen or in our rooms."

You grit your teeth for a split second, she had a point, "If you say so," before nodding to Kinu and turning to make your way to Nobunaga. You walked to the right of the mess hall and around all the tables. There were six of them in total, five were arranged columnar so one end was towards the mess hall entrance and the other towards the back of the room, with equal spacing between them; the sixth one was set up horizontally centered towards the back, each end pointing towards the left and right sides of the room respectfully.

The table at the back is where all the warlords were seated, with the exception of Mitsunari who sat between Hideyoshi (to his left) and Ieyasu (to his right at the farthest end). As you approached the table, you caught eyes with Mitsuhide who sat at the end on the side you approached from, and glared at him. He sent you an amused smile in return that made you bite back the urge to swipe at him the way you did three months ago.

"Why Princess," the kitsune's grin widened slightly.

Don't react.

"You look absolutely ravishing in that kimono."

You sent him a quiet hiss when you walked past, before taking your seat between the Demon Commander himself and the One Eyed Dragon, "Mitsuhide is right, lass. That kimono suits you very well."

You shot Masamune a sweet smile and shrugged your shoulders slightly, "Thank you, Masamune. I had no idea it was in my closet." You didn't even bother acknowledging Mitsuhide as you had made the silent decision to ignore him for the night.

"Yes," Nobunaga cut in to your conversation, getting your attention when he moved a stray curl behind your ear, "Your outfit choice for the night is very fitting." He brushed his fingers along the decorative faux flowers in your hair, an action that was oddly soothing, "Delicate like a flower," he moved one of the tassels from your obi's ties out of your lap, better exposing the dragon embroidery underneath it, "But fierce like a dragon."

His words, his actions, his smug ass smile was all very breathtaking and sent a nice tingle up your spine. "Thank you," you unintentionally purred, "Though to be honest, I really can't take any credit. The maids picked out everything, and did all the work." You picked up your tea mug, "All I did was stand there and look pretty."

"You're having tea?" Masamune shot you a look before picking up a spare saucer of saké, "Tonight is a night for celebration."

"I don't think my doctor would condone that," you looked to the blue-clad warlord and chuckled.

"He wouldn't," Ieyasu spoke up from the other end of the table and shot the two of you a glare.

"Sorry," you laughed bringing the tea to your lips, "Warden says no," before taking a sip and placing the mug down. Masamune clicked his tongue and shook his head, placing the saucer down before picking up his own cup of tea. You raised a brow at him, and he shrugged, "Solidarity."

"Masamune can't drink," Hideyoshi clarified. Ah, he can't handle liquor. The revelation made you giggle, and Masamune sent a glare towards Hideyoshi.

"You should try some of the Sashimi and Dumplings, Milady!" Mitsunari leaned over the table to look past Hideyoshi and Nobunaga, and towsrds you.

"No she shouldn't," Ieyasu interjected, "She is still recovering. No raw foods," he said with finality.

"Damn Salmonella," you grumbled. To be honest it was fine by you, you were hungry but due to Ieyasu's warning you didn't want to eat anything heavy, and meat in general was as heavy as food could get. "What?" Masamune looked at you with a confused face, and you sighed - remembering that a lot of food born illnesses didn't have names yet.

Oh that probably means that any time someone got sick from food poisoning, they blamed it on someone trying to kill them.

"Nothing," you couldn't hold back the chuckle that bubbled from your own personal thoughts.

Nobunaga reached for something that was infront of him, but closer to the other edge of the table and silently winced in pain. The quiet sound caught your attention and you watched him for a moment, not sure if you heard him right. He tried again, only for the same sound to escape him. Were you missing something? When did he get injured? You took the tray of sushi he had been reaching for and placed it next to his, earning a quiet thanks from him.

You briefly glanced around the room, to make sure your eyes weren't deceiving you, and surprisingly the subtle spectacle had not gotten the attention of any vassals around the room. Nobunaga seemed to be favoring his right arm and you narrowed your eyes at him.

"Are you okay?" You tried to keep the conversation quiet, but it was difficult with so many different conversations going on around the room.

"What?" He turned to look at you to better understand your question.

"I said, are you okay?" You spoke up a bit, hoping no one outside the warlords table had heard you.

"It's nothing," he stated simply, before brushing off your concerns for the rest of the feast. You watched him like a hawk while the others enjoyed eating and drinking, though you suspected the other warlords were doing it in moderation and you wondered why for a moment. The vassals however didn't hold back, they got loud halfway through the celebration, but their drunken banter put a smile on your face.

The group seemed really tightknit, more like a very large band of brothers than a garrison of soldiers under the command of different leaders. The night wound down when there was almost no food left on the tables for the vassals, and they left in groups of three or more to either head off to bed or find somewhere else to indulge themselves. Within an hour of the food depleting to nothing, the hall was empty save for Ieyasu, Mitsunari, Hideyoshi, Nobunaga, yourself, Masamune, and Mitsuhide.

Should you leave? You wanted to, but you felt awkward being the only one at the table to leave, before Mitsunari spoke up, "We should head to the council room before it gets too terribly late."

That caught your attention, and you perked up a bit, "You all are going to have a council meeting right now?"

"Not just us, you too."

Shut up Mitsuhide.

"But why?" You huffed, "I'm no one important."

"Nonsense," Mitsunari looked over towards you with a gentle smile, "You're the Oda Princess."

"Not a real one though," Ieyasu snarked.

"One of the topics we are going to cover tonight involves you," Nobunaga finally answered your question. Your brows furrowed, "Me?" You repeated, "How?"

Nobunaga chuckled before moving to stand, "Come to find out."

Ugh.

The other warlords followed his lead, and with a begrudging sigh, you trailed after them. You contemplated ditching them and just returning to your room for the night - being around so many lively people drained your energy. However, before you could linger too much on the idea, you entered a hall that looked familiar. Dang, here already.

When you entered, the warlords took their places at their assigned seats, while you followed Nobunaga up the dais, only to pick up your pillow and walk over to the spot next to Ieyasu, before plopping it and yourself down.

Nobunaga leaned back slightly and let out a sigh. You glanced around the room, before turning to look at the raven haired man, and leaned in his direction, "Are you really okay? You seemed stiff the entire feast."

"No," at least he was finally being honest, and you weren't going to have to jump through too many hoops to get an answer like you would most men. Your brows furrowed at this, "What's wrong?"

Before you could get an answer out of him, Hideyoshi cleared his throat and Nobunaga waved off your question. "I'll begin," Hideyoshi watched you till he was sure you wouldn't interrupt and then continued, "I have a report on the villains who attacked Lord Nobunaga at Honno-ji."

You perked up a bit, it had been a while since you heard of the incident. "Mitsunari," the brunette turned to his vassal, "The night of the attack, you sent several men to follow their tracks."

"Yes," he nodded in confirmation, "I had hoped to search for their whereabouts. However," Mitsunari paused for a moment to clear his throat, "Last night several bodies were delivered to the castle."

Your eyes widened, having a feeling you knew what he was going to say next.

"It was the men I had sent out."

You glanced around the room to gauge the others reactions. Most if not all of them remained calm and expressionless, though you couldn't say you were suprised. This type of thing was probably normal to them. People didn't exactly have a long life expectancy in this time period. You looked at Nobunaga through the corner of your eye as he held a disturbingly pleased smile in his face.

Asshole.

"They must have gotten close," he chuckled, "Apparently their leader doesn't want me learning his identity."

"We may be out of leads," Hideyoshi sounded resolute, and you could hear the anger growing in his voice, "but we won't give up the search. Those assassins won't be allowed to roam free."

"Hideyoshi, I want you and Mitsunari to come to my room afterwards to discuss this more." You looked at the Oda leader with a raised brow, though your eyes narrowed in suspicion - he was up to something.

"Yes, my lord," they both replied in sync.

"If I may, I have a report as well," Mitsuhide began to speak with a smile on his face, "The scouts we sent out to reconnotier the eastern front came back to us with rather curious rumors."

You raised a brow, partially because you had never heard that word used before in the place of recon or reconnaissance, and partly because you were actually interested in what the snake had to say. "It means to gather information, Princess," you shot a glare in Ieyasu's direction - half tempted to make his tea erupt again, but sadly he didn't have one.

"I know what it means," you snapped back at him, "You should be paying attention to the report and not whether or not I have a grasp on military jargon."

"They say the Dragon of Echigo is alive," Mitsuhide continued on as if he hadn't been interrupted, "And he is sheltering the Tiger of Kai back to life from his supposed death due to illness."

"Interesting," Nobunaga raised a hand to rub his chin in thought.

Dragon of Echigo? Your brows furrowed at the irony. How cute- a soft sigh interrupted your thoughts, and you looked at Ieyasu with an annoyed expression.

"The Dragon of Echigo is Kenshin Uesagi, Lord of Kasugayama Castle in Echigo. The Tiger of Kai is Shingen Takeda. They're brave generals who vied with Nobunaga for power. Both of them supposedly died some time back."

"Thanks, Wikipedia-" you snarked, but Ieyasu wouldn't stop till he had delivered an insult, "And incase you're wondering, your cluelessness was written all over your face. Try being quiet will you?"

"You should really get checked out, Ieyasu, it isn't healthy to be hearing voices that aren't there." And while your at it get your eyes checked too.

"Mitsuhide," your and Ieyasu's quiet squabble did nothing to interrupt Nobunaga and Mitsuhide's conversation, "Can you verify this?"

"Not yet. So far it's just been nothing but rumors. But I will bring you proof." You saw nothing wrong with this idea. If he went chasing rumors, he wouldn't be in Azuchi to pester you. Please go away, Mitsuhide.

"Hold on, Mitsuhide."

Ugh.

"Yes?" Mitsuhide turned his attention to Hideyoshi.

"Why are you leaving our lord's side to go chasing rumors?"

You had almost forgotten that Hideyoshi suspected Mitsuhide... Almost.

"It's simple. If they turn out to be true we need to know as soon as possible to plan our next move." Hideyoshi got quiet after Mitsuhide's reply, but that didn't mean that the brunette was backing down. Your gaze shifted between the two as the silently glared at eachother from across the room.

"Can you promise you're not planning anything?"

The whole argument made you want to groan outloud, but you refrained from doing so. You knew for a fact, the last thing Mitsuhide wanted to do was betray Lord Nobunaga - he just liked to play Devil's advocate.

"Anything?" A sly smile crept onto Mitsuhide's face, "Could you be more specific, Hideyoshi? I'm a little slow on the uptake, you see."

You wanted to slap that smile off his face and tell him to quit his shit, but you also wondered why he was trying so hard to look like he was up to something. You kept your gaze on the kitsune, examining him for answers.

"You know what I'm talking about. I need to know you are not planning to betray our Lord to his enemies."

"Would you trust me if I told you I wasn't?" Mitsuhide chuckled, "What's to prevent me from lying or changing my mind, Hideyoshi?"

"Mitsuhide," Hideyoshi spoke through gritted teeth, "why does a man of your talents insist on such-"

"Enough, both of you," at the proverbial snap of his fingers, Nobunaga's command caused the both of them to cease their arguing. Once the room was silent, Nobunaga spoke once again, "Mitsuhide, I give you permission to scout Echigo. Ascertain whether the tiger and dragon are alive or dead, and what's going on a Kasugayama Castle."

"I understand, my lord," Mitsuhide bowed slightly with a nod of his head. You glanced at Nobunaga for a split second before gazing over at Hideyoshi. He seemed like he had a lot more say on the matter, but kept his opinions to himself after that.

You remembered the first day you met everyone. Hideyoshi and Mitsuhide had an argument almost exactly like this that time as well. Hideyoshi wanted to hear Mitsuhide say that he wasn't plotting behind their backs, but like today, Mitsuhide was insistent on antagonizing him. You once again wondered why Mitsuhide didn't just tell the truth, he was loyal to Nobunaga. Fiercely so- so loyal infact he had come after you knowing full well you had inhuman capabilities. There had to be some sort of angle to this.

"My plan was to begin an invasion of the western territories," with that out of the way, Nobunaga continued the council with a smile, "but I may have found bigger prey. Any activity from Echigo can't be overlooked. Make swift preparations for war. Masamune, Ieyasu. Gather the troops."

Both the one eyed warrior and the blond looked to their leader and nodded, "Yes, my lord."

"The rumors better be true," Masamune held a playful smile on his face, "I've been waiting for some action."

"Princess," Nobunaga's voice brought your attention to him, "It's your turn."

"Hm?" You raised a questioning brow to him, and wontered if you should make a smart ass comment but before you could, he answered your silent question. "I have orders for you."

"No," your turned up your nose at him, an action that only made his smirk widen, "I haven't given them yet."

"Don't care," you turned your head away from him, emphasizing the fact that you weren't having any of it.

"I enjoy your spirit but listen to what I have to say first." You still didn't turn to look at him, and after a moment he continued, "I hadn't mentioned this before, but I suffered an injury in the previous battle."

That got your attention. You turned to look at him and narrowed your eyes skeptically.

"When you put down that revolt?" Ieyasu's voice cut through your silence, and brought your gaze to him before you looked back at Nobunaga. Why was he barely making all this known now? It's been three months, you felt like this is something that should have been delt with long before?

Unless-

"Yes. A glancing blow from one of the arrows, but it has yet to heal."

You couldn't even say if it was true or not, you had been absent for a majority of the battle due to having to deal with a small skirmish of your own. "However," the raven haired warlord continued, "I must be in perfect condition for the next battle. And so I will be going on retreat to the springs."

Your glare only hardened as you watched him, silently searching for more answers, because you knew there was something he wasn't telling you.

"My dearest Lucky Charm will be coming with me."

"What?" Just like that you snapped out of your thoughts, "Why?"

"Isn't that nice," Mitsuhide chuckled from the other side of the room, "Congratulations on being chosen for such an important mission."

"I'm counting on you to not fall for our Lord too quickly, lass," Masamune jested at you in a friendly manner, a smug smirk etched on to his features.

"No one has answered my question yet???" You looked at the others confused.

"Princess," Hideyoshi tried to reassure you, you think, "remember to serve Lord Nobunaga as I would," or give you tips, you guess.

"But why???" You raised a brow at the brunettes comment. Bad choice of words, Hideyoshi, but then again he doesn't know the two of you nearly screwed.

"You sustained serious injuries as well, did you not?" Nobunaga was talking to you as if the answer should be obvious.

"Well yes but-" he didn't let you finish, "Then the hot springs will benefit you as well." He nodded, as if the action could physically bring a close to the conversation.

"Is it just going to be you and me?" You sighed, knowing there was nothing you could do to change his mind, so you may as well get as many details as you can.

"Yes, if word of this injury got out, there could be another revolt. For secrecy, I will take no guards and go with you alone."

Oh even you knew that was bull. Nobunaga was many things, but stupid was not one of them. He had to know going alone would be dangerous. Sure, he had you, but none were aware of what you were - save for Mitsuhide.

Unless of course-

"We leave in the morning. See that you're prepared, Princess."

He's trying to make himself look like an easy target. But what would he have to gain from this?

You gaped at him slightly when it occured to you.

He suspects a mole amongst his ranks and he's trying to draw them out by making himself look like an easy target.

Nobunaga was giving you a teasing smile.

If nothing happens, then he knows his inner circle is safe and the traitor is lower in the chain of command.

You looked around the room, examining the men you had though you'd come to know. They had all seemed fairly loyal in your eyes. It was obvious from the way Ieyasu used to birate you about your interactions with Nobunaga that he respects him very much. Hideyoshi practically worshiped the ground Nobunaga walked on. Mitsunari's loyalty to the Lord in question was second only to Hideyoshi, so it was a given that by association it wasn't him either. Masamune was always so eager to fight for Nobunaga and for some reason their relationship struck you as brotherly, and Mitsuhide had proven to you earlier that day how loyal he truly was to his lord.

Who could he possibly think it is?

"Close your mouth or you'll catch flies," Ieyasu snipped. You snapped you mouth shut and shot him a glare.

"You should probably start packing," Hideyoshi called your attention away from the blond and your face scrunched up slightly in distaste, "I guess, since you're leaving me with no other choice."

Nobunaga nodded at your words, as you stood up to head to your room. Like hell you were packing, more like staying up and thinking of a way to get the heck out of here.

"Kinu will be bringing you your last dose of medicine for the day," Ieyasu called after you., and you loudly groaned before closing the doors to the council room behind you.

When you arrived to your quarters, Kinu was already there with your medicine and a glass of water, as well as a few extra maids to assist you in removing your complicated garb. You allowed them to change you into your night attire first since the smell of the medicine assured you that this glass was even more concentrated before the last. Obviously the idea of shaking liquid medicine before giving it so it was equally distributed in each glass was still a foreign concept, and you could only assume the medicine was getting more potent because whatever was still in it that was solid had settled to the bottom and you may be nearly finished with the first batch.

You almost wanted to spit out the last sip. It had an unpleasant gritty texture to it and it felt like it left a thin film over the roof of your mouth and your tongue. Kinu quickly handed you your glass of water, and you eagerly chugged it before handing it back to her and politely asking for more.

You straightened out your night robe and turned to Kinu after she poured more water in your mug. The other maids bowed you, taking your used clothing before leaving the room and closing the door behind them. "How was the feast, Milady?" She smiled and handed you the ceramic cup.

"Good," was all you could really say. Of course you had tasted better food, but what could you expect from a world that had yet to obtain the variety of spices and cooking techniques of modern day life. "It wasn't what I was expecting," you chuckled, before taking a sip of your water "Lots of drinking and marry banter from the vassals. Don't know why I expected it to be stiff and stuffy."

Kinu covered her giggle with her hands, "Of course not, Princess. Banquets like this are often to help the lord's and their vassals unwind, it also helps boost morale if it's in celebration of something, such as your getting better."

"Yes well," you moved to sift though your closet, not entirely sure if you should really pack, "It was great up until the end."

Kinu tilted her head in a confused manor, and you glanced back at her when she remained silent, before turning back to your closet and explaining what you meant, "Lord Nobunaga wants me to go to the hot springs with him tomorrow-"

You were cut of my the maids failed attempt at muffling her excited squeals. And you turned to look at her, a smile creeping on to your face at her infectious joy, "Oh, Princess! That's wonderful!"

Your brows furrowed and you snickered, "How?"

"Well, Milady," she hastily walked over to you with an extra hop in her step, and made an effort to speak a bit more quietly, though it failed miserably, "I'm sure you're aware of the Lords fondness of you."

Fondness?

You scoffed and turned to look at Kinu, "He's only doing it because-" you paused, your smile dropping from your face as did not want to tell her your suspicions on why he is really doing all this, and you also didn't want to tell her he was 'injured' in fear of spoiling his little experiment. She looked at you expectantly, "Because...?"

You cleared your throat, "He thinks the hot spring will do me some good, and he thinks I would enjoy getting out of the castle for once."

Your little white lie only made her squeal again and you rolled your eyes, smile once again returning to your face as you pulled out a simple kimono off the rack. The material felt light and the had a little more give than most, it would be perfect for traveling, maybe. Your weren't sure. It was hard to say since you didn't know how exactly you would be traveling. You assumed by horse, and you've never ridden on a horse in a kimono for extended periods of time.

"That would be good for the trip there, Princess," oh yay, you made a good guess, "Would it be alright if I pack your things for you?" She stuttered slightly, afraid you would take her request the wrong way, "N-not that I don't think you know how to dress, it's just-"

"Kinu." She snapped her mouth shut, "I would appreciate it."

Just like that her excitement returned, "Oh! Thank you, Milady!" She hopped to your closet, taking your place when you moved out of the way. With a relaxed smile you made your way to your futon, slowly laying down onto the mat while Kinu flitted through your closet for everything she thought would be nice for you to take. She would pull out a kimono, talk out the pros and cons outloud before putting it back and picking out another. You talked with her while you could, asking questions and agreeing with some of her opinions, till all you could respond to her with was, "Mhmm..."

As your responses became quieter and quieter, she turned around to look at you and smiled at the image of you curled up beneath your blanket - the only thing visible was your head from your cheek bones up. She continued sorting through your closet till she was finished and then took her leave.

#cybird ikemen #ikemen #ikemen sengoku #ikesen #ikesengo #ikemen sengoku imagine #ikesen imagine #ikesengo imagine #ikemen imagine #ikemen sengoku imagines #ikesen imagines #ikesengo imagines #ikemen imagines #ikemen sengoku headcanons #ikesen headcanon #ikesengo headcanon #ikemen headcanon #ikemen sengoku au #ikesen au #ikesengo au #ikemen au #reader insert #ikemen sengoku x reader #ikesen x reader #ikesengo x reader #dragon mc au #of demons and dragons #of demons and dragons ch.6

[fanficofpureimagination]

Invisible

Steve Rogers x Female

Request: Can you please write a one shot where Steve Rogers meets a deaf girl with the power of invisibility? I appreciate it. -Anonymous

Word Count: 1,000

Warning: Depression and loneliness. This is a sadder one shot, but it ends hopeful!

A/N: I did this in more of a fic format, so I can go more in depth with her thoughts. Hope you like it!

I stood my eyes closed and invisible, completely hidden from the world. In this space I am alone.. Some days I just close my eyes in my invisible state and it’s as if I’m floating. I’m floating in my own sensory deprivation tank of my abilities and disabilities. Was it a curse to have this power? To cut me off even further from humanity? Feeling is to be alive, right? And yet I can’t hear. And if I want no one can see me, as if I don’t even exist at all.

I open my eyes again to see the chaos in front of me. I was at my local coffee shop when a man, or I believed him to be a man, came inside and began releasing hell upon us. I of course retreated to my metaphorical and also quite literal state of invisibility; my perpetual state of nonexistence. I waited for the chaos to end, but it didn’t. I could only watch as people were thrown, tables shoved, dishes shattered, some even killed.. Like a silent movie without subtitles, I watched the decaying world around me. And now I still continue to watch, helplessly.

I then watch as a ship drops from the sky into the street beside the shop. I see them exit and make a run for the distraught city of mayhem, the Avengers. One even makes their way into the shop, killing the beast that caused the anarchy. Captain America, I believe. He motions to the people in the shop. I can’t read his lips as he moves, but it’s along the lines of ‘you are safe now.’ I want to believe him, but the world has been on the verge of disaster too often. Especially when they’re around. Then the man in the iron suit walks in and begins talking with the Captain. After a minute, he looks in my direction an infrared motion sensor lighting up on a screen on his arm. The iron man raises his hands that glow with bright light that I know would obliterate me into true nonexistence. I remove my invisibility shield and am left in the open as people around me hold their hands to their mouths and step away. Untouchable. Unreachable. Iron man lowers his hand. He and Captain America are confused and begin speaking to each other. The Captain begins speaking directly to me next. I point to my ears hoping they’ll understand. He just smiles and poorly signs, ‘I am Steve. We want to help. Follow.’

I understand, but I am still confused. Why would they help me? How would they? I sign to him ‘Why?’ He takes a minute to comprehend then signs, ‘abilities. You leave when you want. Please.’ I still don’t know how they’ll help, but I decide to follow them. We go to their ship as they all gather back on. The city is in ruins, but the threat is gone nonetheless. We fly to their tower that stands tall against the city’s skyline.

Soon everyone exits waving at me or smiling. I don’t know what Steve told them, but the smiles seem genuine and kind. He leads me to the kitchen signing, ‘wait.’ He leaves momentarily and returns in a casual t-shirt and sweatpants. ‘Hunger.’ He signs. I nod and he begins searching for something to make me. He begins speaking and I see his embarrassment after he remembers. He leaves again and gets a piece of paper. He writes for a minute then hands it to me. ‘We would like to help you with your abilities. You’re very special. Although until everyone is ready to talk with you, I’ll be keeping you company. If that’s okay. P.S - I’m sorry my signing is awful. I mean no disrespect.’

I just smile and write back. ‘You are better than most... I’ve never used my abilities except for hiding. I never knew it could be used for more.’

‘Of course! Nat will be so jealous of you. And Wanda will definitely be able to help you better than I can.’

‘I would appreciate it.’

‘What’s it like. Having your ability?’

‘Lonely,’ I write and quickly regret as he just makes a sullen face and begins writing a long response.

He was still writing minutes later. I was worried. Then he handed it back with a smile. I began reading as he continued making food. ‘You know I wasn’t always like this. I was a scrawny nobody from Brooklyn who was constantly bullied. I didn’t have many friends or family. It felt like the pain was never going to end. But then I found a mission for myself to enlist in the army, because if I couldn’t save myself I was going to save others. That’s what drove me. You have to find that drive in life. That’s what propels you to a better tomorrow. I remember how scared and lonely I was too. Now I may be projecting, but loneliness doesn’t last forever. Emotions are waves that are constantly going in and out. You have to find that balance and push yourself even when you are uncomfortable. What you are feeling is normal, but I think we can really help you here. All these people were brought together, not just because our abilities or genius intellects, but our pain and struggle. Our willingness to survive the hard moments in life. To become better people not just for ourselves, but for others. For those innocent lives who struggle daily for a multitude of reasons. We recognize our unique positions to aid those people and truly make a difference. And we always have room for another survivor.’ The tears continue to drip from my eyes to the paper as I finish his letter. 

I turn to him and smile through my tears wording, ‘thank you.

He smiles back and signs, ‘Just you smile more, and I’ll learn sign soon.’

‘Thank you,’ I mouth again. 

“You’re welcome,” he returns and I embrace him.

One Shot

Masterlist

#one shot #captain america #steve rogers #avengers #infinity war #marvel #mcu #steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #tony stark #iron man #black widow #scarlet witch

[outroshooky]

Questions Tag!

Tagged by @tendershepherd (Danke Shep!)

Tagging: @a-heart-full-of-javert, @vankoya, @joonbird (If y’all’ve already been tagged or want to skip this, go for it)

1. Nicknames: Written, Seagull, Scuttle, Yun Mango Dango, Moon Yong (thanks @lolnxcole)

2. Gender: Female

3. Zodiac: Aries

4. Height: 5′5″

5. Age: 16

6. Time: 2:55pm (EST)

7. Favorite Bands/Solo Artists: Oh boy, there are a lot of these. Favorite bands would have to be Panic! At The Disco, Fall Out Boy, BTS, CHRVCHES, Imagine Dragons, Caravan Palace, Monstercat (technically a record company, but oh well), and twenty one pilots. Favorite solo artists would have to be blackbear, Agust D, Troye Sivan, Tristam, Muzzy, Dion Timmer, Conro, Grant, WRLD, San Holo, Karma Fields, Rameses B, KSHMR, TheFatRat, Alan Walker, Galantis, Avicii, Zedd, Loote... virtually anything electronic.

8. Song Stuck in my head: Where Did You Come From by BTS.

9. Last movie I saw: Pretty In Pink about a month ago... It wasn't a voluntary decision.

10. Last thing I googled: "BTS love and support memes" for love and support.

11. Other blogs: Nada.

12. Why I chose my username: I'm a very indecisive writer, and I erase and rewrite constantly before working out a final product. I originally selected the blog name "writtenthenerased", but mistyped it as "writtenthanerased" in a text to a friend. I didn't catch the typo until he asked me to clarify between two meanings, one of which was "Do you mean it as in 'I'd rather be written than erased'?" I thought it personally fit me rather well, and I selected writtenthanerased as my blog name.

13. Following: Twenty-eight blogs over a wide variety of topics: yourdaily, interior design, self-help, writing tips, best friends' blogs, art tips, and Bangtan writers.

14. Average amount of sleep: Either five hours, nine, or none at all. I'm a high school student, so I really don't have the concept of a sleep schedule.

15. Lucky Number: 7!

16. What am I wearing: An oversized high school band sweatshirt, a gray Monstercat Uncaged t-shirt and pajama pants.

17. Dream job: Airline pilot, professional procrastinator.

18. Dream trip: Since I've already gone on my dream Europe trip, I'm currently in the works with a friend about a Southeast Asia trip to Japan and South Korea. Owl cafés? Owl cafés.

19. Favorite Food: My grandmother's pasta, which is utterly heavenly, or strawberry bubble tea.

20. Play an instrument: Clarinet, handbells, piano.

21. Favorite song (right now): I can't pick just one, sadly: Airplane Part 2 and Fake Love by BTS, Your Side Of The Bed by Loote, Wanderlust by blackbear, Questions by Tristam, an Airplane Part 2/Havana mashup, and a Monster/Save Me mashup on YouTube.

22. Play(ed) any sport: I played softball for two years before being hit in the head and realizing that catching things wasn't my calling. I have, though, played tennis for nine or ten years and counting.

23. Hair color: Dirty blonde.

24. Eye color: Namely green, although it changes to a more bluish or brownish shade depending on the light.

25. Languages you speak/are learning: I speak English and some various German profanities. I'm currently in year two of four of my high school Latin education. Yeet cum fiducia! (Side note, I'm not responsible for whatever links come up when you input that phrase into Google)

26. Random fact: So this is going to sound really freaking weird, but I'm actually a student pilot! I've been flying since I was thirteen (yes, here in the United States, it is legal to fly a single-engine plane before you can drive a car. Lovely lawmaking, isn't it?) and have nearly enough hours to apply for my private pilot’s license (a minimum of forty). As I just turned sixteen two months ago, over the summer I will be going to a flight camp for three weeks, upon which I will take my first solo flight! I'm looking to pursue this in college and obtain a Bachelor's in Aeronautical Science; from there I'll hop into the airlines and hopefully start working my way up from there. I've always been passionate about aviation, and I'm an air show junkie who's been to shows and air tattoos in numerous states and countries. It's a weird hobby for a sixteen year old to have, but hey, I like a little diversity in my life.

27. Describe yourself: I’m an INFJ on the Meyers-Briggs scale, and a 1w2 on the Enneagram. 

To be honest, I’ve spent more time thinking about this question than was probably necessary, but I struggle to accurately sum myself up in a brief paragraph, perhaps because I’m not quite sure who I am yet. Bear with me, this might be a little long.

People tell me I’m intelligent, self-reliant, mature, and wise; apparently I’d make a good therapist, and I’d have to agree. I’ll listen to you even if you’re my worst enemy, because everyone deserves to be heard, no matter what our relationship status is. I’m a natural mediator, and it takes a lot to get me truly angry, but once I am, it’s not a pretty sight. I’m painfully selfless, maybe too selfless at times, and I’ve learned that I give people too many chances. I trust a little too quickly, but I’m also terrified of telling people my inner thoughts (what a weird conundrum, huh?). I’m hung up on the “what if”s, they’ll haunt me until the end of time. I’m anxious; I love to be alone, but I’m scared to be lonely. I hope for the best and assume the worst, and the end product is usually somewhere in the middle. 

I’m usually fairly quiet because if it’s a weekday, chances are I haven’t slept well. I rarely take the initiative in conversations, but god, get me on a topic I love? I’ll talk your ear off for hours about Overwatch and European History and the F-18. My friends say I’m sarcastically savage, but also have a heart of gold, and will do anything for the people I love. I love without abandon; I like to assume the best in people and find the good in every bad situation, seek out the little things that bring joy to a darker day. I create endlessly, through writing and drawing and architecture and dreaming. My mind is always thinking, always conceiving, and rarely does it ever stop, but I’m painfully perfectionist; I criticize constantly, from the ragged edges of my chewed-short fingernails to the sentence I just typed on a blank Google doc. I run from the past and look to the future, and it seems so far away, but I blink and I’m suddenly looking at junior year of high school and the world of college and student loans and sweet, sweet independence. It’s right here, I’m right on the verge, and just about when I think I can see who I actually am, the kaleidoscope turns a little to the right, and there’s a different design in the eyepiece.

It’s been turning a lot lately, it seems. I’ve lost a lot of people, been burned at the edges, discovered what it’s like to have everything fall out from underneath you. But you know what? I’m still here, and that kaleidoscope is still rotating, because each time another block has been pulled out, I see yet another side of myself I never knew existed, and even in just a few months, I’ve learned countless lessons about people and feelings and even my own self. Thus, I’ll keep looking through the eyepiece and watching the pieces turn, beautiful and bright in their design.

Because I can’t do much else other than hope and dream, push forward to the future, to the days when things will work themselves out, to the moment when I can work myself out.

And that day, I think, I’ll finally see the whole mosaic.

#writtenthanerased #ask written #questions tag #ask me questions #ask me anything #i was supposed to start studying twenty-four minutes ago #whoops #i wanted to get this done #this became a complete ramble #whoops again

[castofapegasusnamedindigoskies]

Otto

Mod Notes: Otto was the first kiddo that Skies adopted into her little family, he has a talent of putting things back together or taking broken things and making them into something new. He is a sweet colt who loves helping ponies but because of his past is hesitant on meeting other ponies without Skies or Eclipse present 

Otto’s Background under the cut 

Otto was orphaned at a very young age. He never knew his birth parents or where he came from. All the little colt knew was that he was alone and didn’t have anywhere he truly calls home. Through his early childhood, Otto was constantly moved from orphanage to orphanage due to overcrowding. Each time Otto moved he grew colder to others. Then one day Otto was relocated to an orphanage in a small farming town. Somehow this move was different to Otto, he felt like it could be home or that this town had a warming atmosphere to it. 

A few months passed and Otto had not been relocated and it was beginning to look as though this small orphanage would be his home for a while. Most of the younger ponies spent their time outside in the yard, except for Otto who spent most of his time sneaking off  to the broken down playscape behind the orphanage. Otto loved putting things back together or “upgrading” something old into something awesome and new. The caretakers took notice one day of Otto disappearing and was scolded for ignoring the rules of the orphanage. After that day Otto got into even more trouble as he constantly snuck out to work on the broken plays cape; until one day Otto was locked out of the orphanage on a cold and rainy night. 

Otto begged and banged on all the door and window to be let back in, but the caretakers forbid for the little ponies to let Otto back inside. So Otto was left to wonder way from the orphanage in search of some shelter from the storm. Unfortunately for Otto, the orphanage was very close to an unkind forest. Otto drenched in rain finds a group of trees to get underneath. The little pony was so concerned about what he was gonna do now, that he did not hear the large wooden foot stepps that were slowly approaching Otto from behind him. 

Before Otto could turn around a large wooden wolf jumps at Otto growling as it approaches Otto. Otto was scared for his life, more wooden wolves howled not far behind where Otto stood. This was it Otto was gonna die by this wooden beast and it’s brethren. Otto stared right into the eyes of the beast that was ready to pounce on its prey. Tears ran down Otto’s cheeks as the wolf’s hot breath hit his face. Just as the wolf was about to attack Otto, one of the other wooden wolves tackles the wolf in front of Otto. This was the window of opportunity that Otto needed! Otto took off and ran as fast as his legges could take him straight to the edge of the forest. Unforchanel for Otto the wooden wolves catch up to Otto as he reaches the edge of the forest. 

One of the wolves lonches at Otto and latches it’s large wooden fangs into Otto’s left back leg. The pain is overwhelming and over takes Otto causing him to stop in his tracks allowing the other wolf to chomp down on another one of Otto’s legs. Otto tries to break free from the wolves grasp, but one of the wolves scratches at Otto’s face scratching across one of his eyes. Otto was loosing too much blood and was on the verge of passing out when he see something fly through the sky. A loud whistle came from the sky drawing the attention of the wooden wolves. Otto wasn’t for sure, but he could have sworn he saw a large thundercloud quickly approaching the ground. 

Just as Otto was about to give up hope, a bright light flashes above him with a large crackle of thunder. The wolves let go of Otto and run away with the tops of their bodies now on fire. Otto attempt to get up, but the amount of pain he was in prevented such a feet. A tall figure lands in front of Otto and quickly approaches Otto “hey stay with me…sweetheart you’re gonna be okay” said the tall figure in a soft and warming tone. 

*If you’re wondering how he gets his arm attachments and who saved him, check under the cut*

 Otto slowly opens his eyes and finds himself inside a room with very little furniture. Many tubes and wires were covering Otto’s body which caused Otto to become uneasy and begin to shout for help. A few mares with white hats ran into the room to hold down Otto and try to relax him. “Where am I why am I here?!” Otto was beginning to try and break free of the mares trying to hold Otto down. A male unicorn in a long white coat walks into the room accompanied by a tall pegasus who looked familiar.  “Child you need to calm down! Your body is still healing, so sit down” said the male unicorn in a stern voice. 

Otto stops struggling and listens to the male unicorn. “what happened…” Otto asks in a weakened tone. The male unicorn looks over to the pegasus who stood a good head taller than himself. “Thank you nurses that will be all” the male unicorn dismisses the mares that were holding down Otto. The pegasus approaches Otto and gives him a warm smile before sitting down on the chair near Otto’s bed. The male unicorn’s horn glows green and the door to the room closes behind him. “Alright first off, I am Doctor Heart Rate. I run this hospital here in ponyville” Heart Rate fixes his chestnut mane as Otto looks him up and down “now what is your name?” 

Otto looks over to the pegasus as if asking if it was okay to talk to the doctor. The pegasus smiles again and nods her head “m-my name….I think it’s blueprint…” he stutters “at least that’s just the only thing I’ve been called the most I guess” Otto looks down and realizes something was missing. He begins to panic “w-where’s my other hoof “ Otto looks over to where his other arm use to be and only finds a numb of his former arm. The pegasus reaches a hoof over to Otto and rests her hoof on Otto’s shoulder. Otto instantly looks at the pegasus and tears begin rolling down his cheeks “now I’m broken…who’s gonna want a broken pony….” Otto says with no hope left in his voice. 

Weeks went by and Otto was slowly healing from his injuries from the wooden wolves. The pegasus that looked familiar continued to visit Otto in the hospital, she was the only pony who didn’t look at Otto as if he was a lost cause. “Hey blueprint, what do you like to do for fun” the pegasus asks pulling back her curly mane into a ponytail. “What I like to do” Otto replies questionly” The pegasus tilts her head “well do you like to draw, play with cars, read books, build things…you know what do you like to do” the pegasus grabs a pencil out of her bag along with a notepad. Even though Otto felt safe around this pegasus, he still wasn’t sure if he could be honest with her. “Why” Otto asks with slight concern. The pegasus smiles “well you’ve been stuck in this room for a while so I figured I’d go into town and pick up some things for you.” Otto looks at the pegasus with tears in his eyes “why…” was all he could utter out of his mouth. 

The Pegasus walks over to Otto and gives him a warm hug causing Otto to absolutely lose it. Otto grabs the Pegasus tightly and shoves his face into her chest. “Blueprint sweetheart” Otto lifts his head up to look at the Pegasus “what’s really wrong?” Otto looks down trying to catch his breath “no one has ever asked me what I wanted….” Otto begins crying again. 

A month has passed and it was coming close to the time of Otto’s release from the hospital. “Skies you know he has to go back” says a periwinkle unicorn in soft voice in the hallway. “But he can’t, those ponies that run that place are absolutely dreadful” says the tall Pegasus in an angered tone. “He’s been through so much…” the Pegasus known as skies tries to hide the sorrowfulness in her voice. The unicorn gives Skies a look “well if you’re so worried about him why don’t you just adopted him Skies” the unicorn says in a slightly annoyed tone. “Capsule…even if I wanted to…they won’t let me….” Skies lowers her ears “I’ve tried asking and they turned me down…” Capsule Case gives Skies a look before her horn glows a teal green. A pile of papers float over to Skies “well good thing I pulled some strings” Skies looks at Capsule Case and then at the papers “you’re gonna be a hell of a Mom” Capsule Case giggles as Skies tackles her thanking her over and over. 

The first few months Otto had trouble adjusting to finally having some place to call home and having a new name “Otto.” Skies thought that changing his name would help make his “new life” official. Slowly but surely Otto began to open up and show his true colors. Otto would fix things around the house and take things apart to make new things to help around the house. “Skies can you help me with something please” Otto ask Skies softly. “Yes sweetie” Skies flies down to see what Otto needs. “I wanna make something, but I need a few things…” Otto shows Skies a few drawings “I think I can do it…” Skies smiles warmly “I know just the place to get that kind of stuff, but we’ll have to wait a few days” she replies. Otto tilts his head in confusion “what kinds of place” he asks. “You’ll have to wait and see” she smiles and walks into the other room. 

Just as Skies said she knew just the place to take Otto to get the supplies he needed. “What’s this place Skies” Otto asks with excitement. Skies smiles “well this is kinda like the market we go to, but this one has just about anything you could think of.” “Ah yes I love this place” says the unicorn Skies refers to as Mom as sticks up her nose to sniff the air “ah and the smell is just heavenly.” Skies giggles at her Mother’s enthusiasm “alright calm down Mom we came here to get stuff for Otto, but I’m sure we’ll come across some old books as old as you” she teases. Skies’ Mother sticks out her tongue at Skies childishly “pfft as if, but they do tend to have your romance books~” she snickers. Skies’ face lights up a bright red “MOM” Skies says flustered. “You know I only tease, don’t worry deary it’s okay to be curious” she teases. “Alright I’m gonna tell Mr. Slime Boat you said yes to a late night dinner” Skies gives glares at her Mother. “Fine, what’s the first thing we need Otto deary?” asks Skies’ Mother. 

The trio returns home with a large hall of books of all kinds, miscellaneous mechanical parts, metal plates from old pony armor, odd looking potions, and a large assortment of tools. “Goodness what was one of the most interesting shopping trips” Skies’ Mother says happily “Skies I’ll help get Otto all set up if you can get dinner started” she asks. “Oh sure I can do that” Skies smiles and heads into the kitchen. Otto looks up at Skies’ Mother “um miss Eclipse” he asks softly. Eclipse looks over at Otto “you can just call me Eclipse sweetie” she smiles “did you need something?” “Why do you hide your wings” Otto asks gesturing to his shoulder blades. Eclipse picks up Otto with her magic and sets him down on the floor “well because I don’t want to be a princess” Eclipse says with a saddened tone “I don’t like how ponies treat princesses, like they’re above everypony else” Eclipse sighs “and that just isn’t the life for me.” Otto looks down “I’m sorry for asking” Otto lowers his ears. Eclipse’s horn glows brightly for a moment and as the light fades her wings are present. Eclipse walks over to Otto and kisses him on the head “don’t worry about it sweetheart Skies asked that question a lot when she was your age” she smiles.

Weeks went by and Otto was continuously working on his project with the assistants of Eclipse on the more dangerous task. Then the day came for the big reveal of Otto’s big project. Eclipse brought Skies in with a blind fold over her eyes. “Wait right here” Eclipse tells Skies. Skies sit down and wait to see the surprise that Otto had planned for her. “Alright open your eyes” Otto announces with a very excited tone. Skies removes her blind fold with one of her wings to be met with Otto standing up on all fours. Otto was smiling brightly “watch this” Otto extends his front mechanical leg slowly off the ground and slowly but surely stubbly walks over to Skies. Unfortunately Otto falls down to the floor after a few steps. Skies rushes over to Otto and lifts him up “are you okay sweetheart” she says with worry in her voice. “Yeah I’m okay Mom, just gotta tweak some things” he smiles and gives Skies a hug.

#mod art #pony ref #otto ref #backstory #skies kiddo

[2fast2furiousofficial]

cw: ??? Paranoia, parents, down talk, uh suicide and death comes up, it’s A Lot? Oh specific mention of Cancer. I’m suddenly exhausted and struggling to tag. Also, typos. Read this @ ur own risk, there’s a disclaimer inside re: that and if you mention this post to me I’ll be upset. Especially as I’m going to try and forget I made myself internet-vulnerable by posting it. G’night tumblr.

My like, negative monologue and paranoia found their way back to me with strenght instead of being mostly hushed whispers instead of weird moments or almost more like, speaking in faint images, vague feelings - they weren’t real and sharp and present and it’s been to the point where until recently with the flare up i was pretty soundly thinking some of my diagnosis must be wrong or i was weirdly in super recovery, and if everything felt like, still off, weird? That’s just real life? If BPD like goes away, somehow, magically, I would just feel less.

Everything would be. Less.

Also it’s just weird because I’m comparing all my friendships and shit to my ex who was my FP and close friend and then gf and then ex but like keyword in some of that if FP so everything was more constant and intense so no wonder other friendships don’t match it, fuck, will other romantic relationships?

Like I’m still not bothered too much, I am ultimately okay with being single I think but also like.

I dunno!

But like friends. friends friends friends.

I’m struggling what to do with any of all of them and if you’re a friend I talk to with any goddamn regularity see your way out of this tumblr post. Or like proceed at ur own risk I’m not trying to @ any of y’all I’m just like. verbalizing (textualizing? sure. whatever!) my paranoia and struggles in Friendship TM rn so like please either don’t read this or don’t make it weird because it’s not you it’s me 

God god like i I just can’t find the fucking balance and I think it’s partly because I am constantly bouncing between trying to invest more (too much) into friendships or isolating, or not having the energy, or trying to do both, or all three, I need so badly to be liked but also why thr fuck do you all like me

I’m fake, I’ve got so much imposter syndrome I can’t fucking see straight. Some of my friends think I’m cool and kind of goth??? Think I don’t like people (oh shit), that I’m like, tough, but I’m a fucking goddamn powder puff who is constantly on the verge or crying or emptiness or undesired anger which i then feel guilty about and channel into anger at myself. I hate myself so much that it’s normal, that until something pushes it it can kind of just become background noise and isn’t that sad? Isn’t that sad. I act and say that I don’t, insist I’m cooler and better and sometimes think I do but it’s because I feel so goddamn bad about myself but I know that won’t make me more likeable, saying it won’t make things good, just makes things back and awkward so I have to like fumbling try and like myself or at least fake it.

I’m not cool. I’m fat and ugly and broke and can’t keep a job or do anything right or get my shit together even if i’m goddamn trying.

I try and forget my mother so that missing her will stop. I can’t miss her if I forget her. She won’t exist to forget. I won’t think about her, so I won’t have to miss her, even if every fucking cell in my body carries her, from her genetics and everything that entails (death, mostly, likely from colon cancer) to her finger prints on my brain neurons (my mental illnesses aren’t something to lay at her grave and blame her for but her finger prints and markers are in all of them, I am my mother in so many ways I hoped I wouldn’t be).

I try and forget my father so I won’t miss him either. He’s just a disappointment or a hurt when he’s around, just something else to feel bad about (I can’t make him happy, i’m too gay, too fat, too much like my mother, too much like the sister he’s always abused and treated wrong). He’s not worth the energy.

I try to just... put on a face and exist minimally around my family because they aren’t perfect but they try and do a lot and I love them and I will never be truly one of my aunt and uncles children, a sibling to my cousins, my uncle won’t just give me casual affectionate contact and i’m too hold and don’t have the history to crawl into my aunts bed and just cry with her about how awful and broken I feel and they love me so much even if I’m not quite these things so why isn’t it fucking enough?

my ex is an essay i don’t want to do because every time i fucking reach some further progress and closure i lose it and I hate it, I hate it, I hate how part of me still aches and misses her but do I miss her or just the idea of her, what she represented?

That someone could love me, that someone could get me?

But like. Ha, the more you know me, the less you know me, right?

I think it’s a lot like that.

Everyone leaves eventually.

Like my friends, fuck, like everyone is good and fine and I’m the goddamn problem ultimately?

Because my brain just cooks shit up like

Don’t respond to them.

? I’m tired so I will later but-

Don’t, all they do is x. They only talk to you about x. When have they talked to you about anything else, they don’t deserve you, they only want want you can do for them and don’t actually care about you, fuck them, fuck this, this always happens--

or well shit you can be more attentive and still just get same shit different angle,

You now y is just using you to ease their own loneliness and depression.

I am 99% that’s like most human interaction, we’re all supposed to try and help one another-

They don’t actually LIKE you, not really, they don’t know you and how garbage you really are. They wouldn’t like that Logan. They’ll go when you stop being useful, stop being enough, the first time you mess up, and you will, you try so hard, so goddamn hard but you will

I want someone to like the garbage parts of me but also I don’t, because, I can’t even like those parts, why the fuck should they, why, why, people will go if I show those parts or want me to change them and I want to change them too but also some shit doesn’t change and some shit is just me, maybe some of this isn’t just garabage or stuff to learn or unlearn, some part sof me just suck, though who even knows which ones, which parts are real, because i’m so fucking fake you can poke holes through me, at least half of my happiness is even fake but if I don’t at least try and fake it it won’t exist and people won’t want tp interact and i’ll be a drain and i can’t have that, I can’t stand owing people or being a burden even if that’s all I ever do, i don’t understand human interaction and friendships and i hate how i can’t disappear - a few weeks or months - and come back without it being a thing, but also i want people to worry, not to Worry but to give a shit but also WHY SHOULD THEY and I expend all this energy on friendships but sometimes I’m not sure why, if i even want them, but i also know i need friends and like friends and am a friendly person and just

i hate. this. Being so many different pieces and conflicting feelins and reactions and i just want to start over. I want to die and have another playthrough. I want to run away and cut ties with everyone and just... live a different life.

Guess I’m actively suicidal again for the first time in awhile. That’s sort of new.

I think I’m finally tired. I’m... going to post this and try and forget I did.

It will feel like too much of a backstep to just delete it, but I can’t edit this either.

if you read this: none of this is @ or about you, again, this is my bullshit brain and me struggling. You’re good friends, some of you are even wonderful friends, I do. Love you. As much as I can love anyone. Which is a lot sometimes, and other times it’s.

Not? I dunno. I’m broken, I don’t know what to tell you.

Also like don’t talk to me about it because I can’t handle that and will very seriously get mad. 

i’m going to sleep.

[dangkynhanhieusanphamcom]

Legal Pillars Of Wellness: Mental & Emotional Wellness

(Image via Getty)

If you’ve been a member of the legal community for more than 30 seconds, you’ve probably heard that we have some issues in the areas of anxiety, depression, drug addiction, burnout, and overall personal wellness. 

From what I can tell, a lot of these things start or increase during law school, accelerate during the bar exam, and explode during the first few years in the legal profession. I have personally struggled with anxiety and burnout for many years.  Because of this, I have spent the last several years researching countless resources and experimenting with different methods to help alleviate, manage, and prevent these things. If the tips and tricks I’ve picked up along the way can help even one person on their wellness journey, I’ll consider this series a wild success. 

Depending on who you ask, you will find that there are anywhere between five to eight pillars or dimensions of wellness. Ever the overachiever, I prefer to use the eight-pillar model. I also believe that the eight-pillar model gives a broader foundation for wellness.  For the purpose of this series, we will consider the following to be the Legal Pillars of Wellness: 

Mental & Emotional Wellness;

Environmental Wellness;

Physical Wellness;

Financial Wellness;

Spiritual Wellness;

Intellectual Wellness;

Occupational Wellness; and 

Social Wellness.

Over the course of the next few months, this series will explore each of these pillars of wellness in more detail.  We will discuss specific wellness issues, ideas, and suggestions related to law students, bar exam takers, and lawyers. Before we embark on this journey together, the lawyer part of me feels compelled to remind you that I am not a mental health professional and that you should always seek the advice of a qualified mental health professional with any questions or concerns you may have.

Pillar #1: Mental & Emotional Wellness

I cannot overstate the importance of taking care of your mental and emotional wellness. I often tell my students, “If you’re not well, nothing else matters.” And, while there are seven other pillars of wellness, I most frequently find myself saying this after a student has said something like “I’m so stressed I can’t focus” or “I can’t remember the last time I had fun or felt happy.” Far too often, I find that law students, bar exam candidates, and lawyers sacrifice their mental and emotional wellness in the name of achieving their goals. 

Consequences of poor mental and emotional wellness

Increased risk for anxiety, depression, substance abuse, and burnout; warning signs may include: 

Disinterested in fun activities 

Mood swings

Increased reliance on drugs or alcohol to cope with day-to-day life

Sense of overwhelm

Irritability 

Increased stress, which comes with its own side effects such as: 

Decreased focus

Increased procrastination

Difficulty remembering

Impaired decision-making 

Poor judgment 

Can lead to poor physical wellness such as:

Over/under eating

Headaches

Stomachaches

Dizziness  

If you’ve been on a plane, you’ve heard the flight attendants tell you that in the event of low oxygen pressure in the cabin, you should put on your own oxygen mask before helping someone else with theirs. My guess is that this is because if you start to become dizzy, confused, and short of breath, it will be really difficult for you to be helpful to anyone else. 

Hopefully, after reading the above list, you now believe the same is true for your mental and emotional wellness. For law students, how effective do you think you will be on your final exams or the bar exam if you are having trouble focusing, difficulty remembering things, and experiencing increased procrastination? And as lawyers, it is probably really bad for us to have impaired decision-making and poor judgment, right? 

If we are constantly sacrificing our own mental and emotional wellness to “get our work done” or “achieve the next goal” how effective are we really being and how well are we really serving? 

Ideas for improving mental and emotional wellness

First, let me say that all of these ideas are merely suggestions. You don’t have to run out and implement all of them right away. In fact, I would suggest that you don’t try to implement them all right away because you will likely get overwhelmed and give up (been there, done that). Also, take what you like from this list and leave the rest. Not every idea is perfect for every person. For example, I freaking HATE journaling, but it may be totally life-changing for you. While I love doing EFT (explained below), you might think it is crazy “woo-woo” witchcraft. To each their own!

Journaling: Explore your thoughts and feelings by keeping a journal. As I mentioned earlier, I kind of suck at this because I put a lot of pressure on myself to do it “right,” aka write neatly, do it every day, and write something important and groundbreaking each time I journal. But, the truth is, the times I find journaling most effective is when I let go of all of the things I “should” be doing and write what I feel needs to be said (no matter how messy or unimportant it may seem). 

Meditation: Think deeply and quiet your mind for short or long periods of time. This helps to break you out of the hamster wheel of work and life pressures and gives you some time to reconnect your mind and body. Meditation is truly a practice. I’ve been doing it regularly for years and some days I still can barely focus for 30 seconds, other days I can get totally zen for 15 minutes. What is important is that you keep showing up and trying. My current favorite app for meditation is Calm,

Visualization: You can use visualization techniques to help yourself stay focused and centered on your goals amidst the craziness of day-to-day life. You can come up with your own visualization scripts or find many diverse and free ones YouTube. 

Affirmations: Write down positive sayings to counteract negative thoughts. For example, if you constantly find yourself saying, “I’m so stressed out, I have no time to do anything,” try saying to yourself daily, “I have all the time I need to be successful.”

Mindfulness: Raise your awareness. A lot of the techniques we’ve already discussed incorporate mindfulness. With a quick Google search, you will find mindful walking, eating, and driving exercises that you can try to raise your awareness and live more in the present moment. 

Emotional Freedom Technique (EFT): Also referred to as “tapping” or “psychological acupressure,” this is a way to balance your energy system. Simply put, EFT is a combination of tapping on your head, face, and chest while focusing on certain places you are stuck (such as letting go of an argument you had or releasing your stress). There are about a million free YouTube videos of EFT including how to do it and different scripts you can use for releasing different blocks. 

Therapy: I firmly believe that everyone needs a therapist, but I feel even more strongly about that when it comes to law students and lawyers. There is a ton of free and helpful information out there, like this very article, about improving mental and emotional wellness. However, nothing beats working with a professional, one on one, to evaluate your specific needs and create customized strategies to meet them. This becomes of the utmost importance if you work in a particularly emotional area of the law (family court, immigration, bankruptcy, criminal law, etc.) and you absorb a lot of secondary trauma. 

Set Boundaries: No one is going to remind you to take care of yourself. No client is going to say, “No, we can’t meet tomorrow because you need to mediate,” and no law school class will be canceled because the students are stressed out. You have to set boundaries around how much time you will spend on your school and work obligations.  You need to carve out and protect time to focus on your mental and emotional wellness practices because if you don’t you will never find the time to do them.  

Be kind to yourself: You’ve chosen a difficult and high-pressure profession to be in that often makes you feel like you have to be perfect and that there is no room for mistakes. While it is obviously important that the legal profession has high standards and that we be the best we can be, so long as lawyers are also humans it will never be perfect and there will always be mistakes. The next time your humanness is showing, instead of getting mad or frustrated with yourself, practice being kind, compassionate, and forgiving of yourself instead. 

Try the 3Rs: When you feel yourself on the verge of meltdown try these three quick and easy steps to get yourself back on track:

Recognize that you are experiencing stress in your body.

Relax by engaging in one of the previously mentioned techniques (or something else that is soothing to you like yoga, coloring, walking your dog, etc.).

Reroute the negative thoughts you were having that caused the stress by challenging them and coming up with a plan to move forward.

I hope you’ll spend some time today evaluating your own mental and emotional wellness and maybe try out one or two of the ideas discussed for improving this important pillar of wellness!

Kerriann Stout is a millennial law school professor and founder of Vinco (a bar exam coaching company) who is generationally trapped between her students and colleagues. Kerriann has helped hundreds of students survive law school and the bar exam with less stress and more confidence. She lives, works, and writes in the northeast. You can reach her by email at [email protected].

The post Legal Pillars Of Wellness: Mental & Emotional Wellness appeared first on NEWS - EVENTS - LEGAL.

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[iloveyoumorethanilovecoffee]

Rose.. i'm sorry I've failed you. Yesterday I logged on my hotmail account. I went all the way back to your emails. I read through a few and.. I saw all the promises you and I made to one another. Like your promise of giving me 2 tarantulas on my birthday... so that I could get scared and run away. You told me you'd catch me in your arms and run away with me. Run far away from the spiders. You knew how much I hated spiders but you still wanted to do so just so you could hold me in your arms Like the promise we made of moving in together by the age of 18 if nothing back home got any better Like.. the promise of always smiling for you no matter what. You promised me you'd watch over me if you ever died. You promised me you'd walk with me through the streets of NY during the snow season. Because you loved it so much and wanted me to see. You promised me you'd show me your studio back in NY with Andrew. You told me you'd sing Hey There Delilah to me. I was scared that you had died in the hurricane Sandy when I saw it on the news but you told me not to worry. You promised you would never die that easily. Broken promises. Faded promises. You were the guy that shaped me into the woman I am today. I was in love with you but never told you. And I knew you loved me too. We were two people longing for one another. Hoping to save each other from that crucial past we were living. A house with a backyard. The garden you dreamed of. You always told me you wished I lived next door to you. So you could come over daily and give me endless hugs. We had a little bird named fierce. You named it and told me we looked like a family. That's when we created the Lopez Garo Family (LGF). You told me it was the only family you felt accepted in. You and I would talk for hours straight. We'd stay up til 3am talking and wake up at 6am to speak again. I was certain you would be the guy in my life. But at the same time I was scared if I ever had you. I would've never kissed you or touched you. I knew your body would flinch at any physical contact. I knew how dirty you felt each time someone mentioned sex to you and you hated yourself so much for that. I knew that you'd wake up screaming in the middle of the night because of those dreams you'd have. I remember how I always made references to roses. I'd tell you your smile meant so much to me. That it was like watching the roses bloom. That was the first time I had ever said that phrase to anyone. Remember our last full conversation? We were up til 6am. You kept asking me if heaven was real. And if God would ever forgive you. You were on the verge of giving up and I was so afraid to lose you. I made one major promise to you. That if you made it out alive by the age of 18 (your legal age) I would name my first child by you? You felt honored and happy that I was willing to do something like that. Then that night in December. You came to me and said goodbye one last time. You knew you would be killed. I confessed my love to you. But it was already far too late. I never thought that would be the last time I'd see you. You vanished. You died the upcoming year. Suicide in the hospital bathroom. You overdosed on your medicine. You left a note written on the stall with your blood. A letter that you wrote to me. A letter your mom kept hidden to everyone so no one could see. I cried so much for you. For those broken promises. Your promise of never dying so easily. Our hopes and dreams. You never turned 18. You were just 6 months away from doing so. I was mad at everything. Mad at God. I wanted to be gone too. Nothing made sense anymore. I spent my days and night crying for you. I kept rereading that last email you sent to me. I checked my phone constantly hoping that everything was just a dream. Even tho all of our promises were brown, I was determined to keep one and only one. To keep smiling for you no matter what. You said you'd be happier knowing I was smiling if you ever did pass away. I didn't want to fail you on that. I never thought that I'd stumble upon Tony. I was already done for. I didnt want anything to do with love. But.. he was so similar to you. The way he struggled at home. The way he told me he had never seen the stars. Just the moon. His way of speaking. So similar to yours. The way he learned my name just like you. The guitar. And especially.. Hey There Delilah. That night he dedicated that song to me.. I remembered of how you promised you'd sing it for me in your studio. I couldn't help but cry. Because you were there. You were alive through Tony. I eventually fell in love with Tony. That when I realized you two weren't the same. Just slightly similar. But I slowly began to fall more and more for Tony. When I least expected, I was completely over you. Something I never thought would happen. But I knew at that moment that this man, Tony, had the ultimate power of making my world a better place. I didnt want to lose him the way I lost you. I treated him in ways i never treated you. If you thought I treated you with love and care, well I made sure that I treated Tony 10xs more than that. I wasnt going to risk it. I made sure I cherished everything with him. I made sure I did the things I wanted to do with you so much. But most importantly, I was finally focusing on my happiness because it was my last promise to you. Rose. I'm here right now because.. I've failed you on that last promise. Truth is, i'm not happy anymore. If you're truly watching over me, you know the troubles i'm facing. I wish.. somehow you could hug me once again. And give me the strength you'd give me before. Rose.. I really really love Tony. I need your help. I dont wanna lose him.. nor do I wanna take my life. I wanna grow old with him. Have kids with him. Have a little daughter named Aurora. I cant take my mind anymore rose.. I wanna end it all. Now I know why you took your life. Now I know how hard it got for you. You just wanted an escape.. just like me. If I could see you.. even if it only through my dreams. I'd take that time to cry on you and ask for guidance. To give me advice in strengthening my relationship. Help me.. I dont wanna fail you completely. I dont wanna break our last and only promise. I wanna fulfill my promise of being happy for real. I want to be happy.. with my one and only true love. The love that had the power to take all my sorrows away. A love more powerful than yours. A one of a kind love. A love that, makes heaven seem real. My love.. Tony 9:09am 7/24/2018

[xottzot]

2018-04(APR)-11th--Friday criminals roaming about this hellhole area--A POLICE LEVEL INCIDENT OCCURED LAST NIGHT AT THIS HELLHOLE AREA!

2018-04(APR)-11th--Friday criminals roaming about this hellhole area--A POLICE LEVEL INCIDENT OCCURED LAST NIGHT AT THIS HELLHOLE AREA!

(I will get to the POLICE INCIDENT TOWARDS THE END OF THIS ENTRY SINCE IT HAS ONLY JUST BECOE APPARENT ATER A VISIT HER TO ME BY A POLICE OFFICER CANVASSING FOR ANY WITNESS REPORTS AT THIS HELLHOLE AREA AT AROUND 11am THIS MORNING)

Forgive my typing. My typing hand/arm is heavily bandaged up again. It feel like I have a cast put on but there isn't. My broken wrist/forearm (fractured whatever medical terms they bandy about me) is healing apparently but my entire wrist and forearm feels VERY painful at times. When SC comes around here at 'home' to re-bandage and attend to my wounds (which all was done in hospital when I was in hospital for a week or so), they take off the wound dressing to change it and suddenly it feels very cool and I can see all the damage done to it and I get a flood of sensations in my forearm and wrist. This morning however, I'd previouly taken pain masking pills and so the sensations weer not painful but very aching....just as they had been when I was in bed....it's like a truck has parked on my forearm and wrist and teh d river has got out and walked away leaving me there....THAT is the sort of pain and distress I am constantly in and NOTHING helps it. - Sure pain masking pills cover the pain up for awhile, but then it's like hell laughing at me saying,...we're just taking the pain away for a short while so when it comes back you will REALLY feel pain bwahahahahaha!

Friday 11 April 2017:-------- It was supposed to rain but it didn't. Now the forecast has suddenly changed to cloudy with a slight chance of rain near the coast. But it's getting VERY overcast......even though the sun is shining down at the moment.

I KNOW I don't live near the coast, I live just before the hills in what they call 'the foothills' of 'Perth area'.....but descriptions for this hellhole place are always vague and changing shifting depending on politics (promoting or evading), or authority (buck-passing or blaming), or news-speak depending on whatever event has just been promoted to make NEWS for a period.....

I had a truly TERRIBLE TERRIBLE night of 'sleep'....endless repeating nightmares of the same nigtmare and progressions of, I'd wake up, then go back to sleep only to continue with the damned nightmare as if the nightmare had been temporarily place on-pause whilst I had awoken for a short while, then when I managed to struggle back to sleep....'pause' would come off and teh nigtmare would continue or repeat yet again.....

A Hell never-ending.

I finally got up out of bed this morning (not for the first time I can tell you), let dear Sam & Max outside and went with them for their ablutions in the back yard of this hovel to keep them safe, then let them back inside and secured them okay. It was not quite time to fed them yet, and besides, I needed to get some fresh bread from the local shop nearby to eat, and of course dear Sam & dear Max get some of that as well.

I then had literaly just went outside to go to the shop to get some bread when SC came here to attend to dressing my wound and changing my bandage(s). It was as surprise to me. I walked to SC and amaiably greeted her, and stayed with her for her safety as she went to the boot of her SC marked vehicle to get the medical stuff she needed for me.

As she was doing that......a teenage? thug on a pushbike came from the Koongamia shops area and was aimlessly circling around nearby us on the road. Of course he has no bicycel helmet because that would be obeying the law and the criminals about this hellhole not only don't obey any laws they frolic about in front of Police without any problems at all whilst anyone else gets fined. You think I'm joking? I'm NOT. This has been going on for so very long now. It was just another tiny thing that dear Fliss saw all the time and nobody would believe her about it all either, let alone the rampant drug dealer and the violent households and the utterly feral criminal children who never ever went to any school.....

Ask Fliss all about it....oh but you can't....or you're not allowed to....wherever she is....I have been torn from her and kept apart from dear Fliss....and it is more than hell.......

The thug-on-a-pushbike roamed about then dashed back to the shops area to join up with another on foot who had a carry bag of foodstuffs crap and reported what he had seen.........and that a vehicle wass till parked down at fatguts aboriginal criminal household....a big dark black softtop 4WD vehicle of which males were getting in and out of repeatedly and wandering all about there. (customers or departmentals or what?)

No feral children were about on the streets however which was very strange. And none were playing on the lounge suite still dumped on the street verge outside the twinned criminal aboriginal household across the road from them. -- But read nothing in any of that which is good because it's all just a temporary sham by them.

The SC person told me that it had rained overnight. (maybe the lounge suite was all wet....but that still wouldn't stop them from 'playing with it').

All the roads of thise hellhole area were utterly dry, the ground all dry and dusty. Rain doesn't exist in reality here as it does elsewhere.

The SC person collected the materials needed as I warned her of the roaming thug on a pushbike. The SC person looked up and saw the shit on a pushbike roaming and circling quite close nearby and took careful notice. The SC person made sure (and I also stated it verbally) to make sure the vehicle was securely locked as we walked away to attend to my wounds.

Truly, YOU have no idea of the state of this hellhole area unless you remain here for awhile...and aren't spotted watching the criminals that is....

SC attended to my wounds, which were all yellow which caused me intitial alarm when the bandage was unwrapped from my forearm & wrist, but then I remembered that SC had used some stuff upon my wounds the oher day during dressing them. It's probably the stuff that causes it all to appear yellow? I any event, SC wasn't concerned so I guess that was the case.

Why do you think thugs roam around whenever they see a SC vehicle going to a place to attend to a needy person for medical treatment at home? -- It's because of two thigs....they can raid the SC vehicle and steal what they can.......or badger or disract the SC person whilst somebody else thieves from the vehicle......and also because it shows to roaming criminals who is at home and who is not.......which places to break into and rob......which people they deem to attack....and on and on and on. -- This sort of thing has been going on for many years abut this hellhole area. Dear Fliss saw some of it herself which added to her malaise. The innocent being victims purely from being injured by others and getting help and being seen as having 'lots of money' when in fact the opposite it true...but you can never reason with criminals and least of all with the criminals about this hellhole area.

My injuries have been attended to by SC. - SC has left. And of course the romaing criminals are roaming about now in the streets of this hellhole area.

The Koongamia school siren has gone off (they have no school 'bell' only literally a siren), and so that should mean no school-aged children whould be out on the streets for awhile.....

It's usually when roaming random patrols by Police or whatever might be glanced or perhaps they are following up from crimes committed the night before or days before or weeks before or just...random.

Damned jet planes are flying into Perth Airport nearby and flying low to do so, making noise and exhausting crap into the air. They fly RIGHT OVER HERE ALL THE TIME.

I spotted many planes today taking off from Perth airport, fly over here then suddenly turn and go north to other headings and destinations. Meanwhile OTHER jet planes are also coming in over the hills and flying rigt over and past here to go to the Perth airport. -- Honestly, it's like the Perth airport can only afford to run one runway strip at any one time no matter how busy things get.

Fliss experienced all this hell herself too, so don't just take my word for the truth of this hellhole area.

Growing up as a child, I used to have dreams of big jet planes crashing into the sheep paddocks a few houses away at the end of the street here. And in reality huge planes would thunder in flyig slow and low and make my bed shake, the cabinets in the kitchen clink, and teh noise woudl always wake you up witt their non-stop parading of passenger jets.

The SAME non-stop parading of passenger jets as is occuring right now as I type this.

Even as I was talking outside to the SC lady, the damn jets were loud enough for me to have to repeatedly pause my talking so my voice wasn't drowned out by the damned jet plane noise.

All this and more is why so many people have moved out of this hellhole area and never will return.

STOP PRESS:---- As I am typing this sentence at 10:00am now, I heard a vehicle door outside slamming shut closeby. I looked and what did I see? - A dark grey vehicle parked in a nearby neighbours driveway. I wonder who they might be? - But also at the end of the street, at the end of Kalara Way street, across the Clayton Street road in the little car park there favoured by criminals is a parked marked Police sedan vehicle just sitting there ready to race off at a moments notice as so happens so much about this hellhole area. It's just parked there windscreen pointing up the Kalara Way street. I don't know if anyones in it at the moment or not. There's no reason why they shouldn't be.

And STILL the damned planes fly low overhead coming in to land at Perth Airport......drowning out all noises as the planes do so.

Earlier there was the sounds of aboriginal kids/toddlers etc running about on the roads. I never looked to see anything. I just hope they get run over as proof of what I've been so saying for so many years as did poor dear Fliss also say to everyone but nobody would listen or do anything...hence it got worse.

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

This above is Friday morning at this hellhole.

Once again, forgive me of any typos in my writing.

Once again, to dearest Fliss I hope and pray you are alright and that we will get back together again.

Dear Fliss, I was crying and sobbing in abject sorrow last night of us being parted and not being permitted by others to live the life we were always supposed to have. I had to do it silently or else my violent brother might get angry or violent at me for upsetting his video game playing and his mutterings to himself.

It's 10:26am.......I suppose I'd better have a small plain brand tinned tomato soup with my bread rolls and share it with dear Sam & dear Max. - Ughhh! A damned plane has noisily flown low overhead again as I'm typing this. Are ALL the damned planes in Australia parked at Perth airport now?

The poor sole lone chicken needs company and support so I have to give it some company too after I eat. (ANOTHER DAMNED PLANE HAS JUST FLOWN LOW SLOW OVERHEAD!)

Has anyone tried to wash up plates and so with one hand bandaged before like I have? - It's so VERY VERY hard not to get anything soiled or wet. Especially after so much careful work was done to create it by the nice SC person.

Outside now is a vehicle I'm hearing just slowly turning around in the intersection. It's one of the things that constantly goes on around this hellhole especially when things are quiet. And it upsets dear Sam and dear max because they think dearest Fliss is returning since she would alwasy slowly and quietly try to drive up here without causing them distress too.

Arghhh NO! - Now there is the noise of a shithead on a small motorbike who has just come out of the pedestrian walkway and rode along the roads on an unregistered motrobike of course...and NOW...a thundering car has roared past on the road as well....and a neighbours dog somewhere has been loudly barking in alarm too.

Can you see the HELL dear Sam and dear Max are in too?

This is hell.

No wonder those people in that corner house moved out....all this and worse...AND being broken into (smashed into with a large rock) by an aborigial thug the day after Xmas day.....

And now a damned plane flies overhead again.......

Non-stop noise in a supposedly 'quiet' place.......it USED to be a quiet place and it WAS......and that's why I invited dear Fliss here and it WAS quiet and peaceful and serene until all the criminals moved in......

Arghhhh! - ANOTHER damned low flying low speed jet plane flying overhead even before I've had a chance to send this message upline! -- It's HELL.

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

POLICE INCIDENT at this hellhole.

I was just finishing up typing in all this entry at 11am when there was a knock on my front door and when I investigated it was a young West Australian POLICE woman canvassing households of this hellhole area for any eye witness deatils for 'something' that occured last night at this hellhole area.

By the sounds of it, it was some sort of assault (upon a woman?). Where exactly the assault occurred I don't know. Who it occured upon I don't know. Or it was a criminal incident involving all that and was more?

THAT IS THE NATURE OF THE HELLHOLE AREA NOW...SOMETHING HAPPENS AND YOU NEVER QUITE KNOW WHAT HAPPENED AND YOU CAN NEVER FIND OUT AND IF YOU TRY...THEN YOU RUN THE RISK OF BEING SEEN BY OTHERS TO BE GUILTY OF WHATEVER HAPPENED.

As I said the POLICE officer was not forthcoming with details. And I certainly was not brazen or a fool to attempt to find out any more, I respect real people far more than you or anyone imagines). And I do so wih dear Fliss and have always done so.

Dear Fliss's parents and to dear Cath in Queensland...can you see how BAD this hellhole has become? - It has been erupting like this AFTER dear Fliss arrived here. It was not like this before. It was, but it had got better. THAT was why I invited dear Fliss to come and live in peace and safety and no pressures of debts over Fliss's head. Dear Fliss nor I had NOTHING TO DO WITH ANY OF IT LAST NIGHT. - I do not know where dearest Fliss is in any case.....I hope she is safe......

It was why dear Fliss and I were always trying to get away from it all because it sudenly grew worse here AFTER Fliss arrived. What with the aboriginal drug dealer house and worse.....

Dear Fliss HATED all the shit (Fliss never swore) going on and she terribly kept blaming herself as if it was a 'curse' or something that followed her. Fliss herself was never to blame. I always had to keep reassuring dear Fliss that even when she was sobbing and blaming herself at her worst times. Others would just think Fliss stupid.

No wonder there was a marked POLICE sedan parked in the Koongamia school oval car park later today that I saw......!

I wonder if the impromptu meeting in the street earlier this morning of the next door neighbour etc was also because of LAST NIGHT?!?

I directed the Police officer to possible residences where she might get what she was after. And I pointed out the empty corner household saying that THEY too had experienced hell here themselves......as had the previous residents before them.....and had moved out.

THIS IS A HELLHOLE.

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

I love you dearest Fliss and want to be with you just as you promised me, and to yourself, to be away from this hellhole forever. - I'm dying here. That raffle has been drawn and I won absolutely less than nothing as usual. - ANOTHER JET PLANE OVERHEAD. - How many times can any person in their entire life enter so many things and NEVER EVER win? - I told you of this hell dear Fliss and how this hell afflicts me and never lets me live a good life. - Dear Fliss we love each other and have been cruelly parted by your afflictions and your false memories and those who control you who have brainwashed you into believing what they WANT you to believe about us. - NOW can you see why I was always so scared about us bringing into being any children of our own, at least here? I also told you the same thing when you were with me and you thought me foolish for believing it. Really? - What would have occurred had we had a child and right now it was living with us being parted? - I NEVER EVER wanted a child to live wihout us dear Fliss...I have lived some of that existance myself with my own mother and father being parted as I was growing up and it was truly HELL too, living in poverty, existing on second hand hand-me-downs, poor people food, (a plain sponge cake was a treat for us), my poor dear mother cut off from ALL her dear close relations who lived in South Australia half the Australian land-mass from us......, my poor dear Mum always struggling to pay ANY bills.....but for all of that I loved my dear Mum with all my heart. She KNEW that but always felt she had 'failed' in being a mother who could provide everything to her two young growing sons. - But I grew up with a stout heart and soul whch my dear Mum was silently proud of...and I took care of her after she had a severe stroke leving her severely disabled...I did NOT abandon her and NEVER would I ever think of doing so......but then dear Mum died alone in hospital after I had rushed to see her because she had hours earlier been close to death but then she had recovered, it was truly cruel....I truly hope Mum knew how much she meant to me and my brother....and I truly hope to see her again when I am dead.

Later closer to midday........I was checking the empty postbox (no word from dear FLiss) and I was collecting the just-delivered local newspaper, and I saw POLICE slowly walking in the school oval carpark area that THAT POLICE vehicle had been parked at as if they were looking on the ground there...or are they just milling about?

Meanwhile, over at Ms New Ages rented house, the old guy there has been hammering away all morning (sounding like somebody at my front door) and he has put up more security AGAIN all about the fencing. -- If the 'incident' and Police visit disturbed me, it might also have spurred him further into making his home a fortress again.

THIS IS A HELLHOLE AREA.

EVERY time I think it is 'getting better' here, people suffer, and it proves that it is not, or at least hell is being selective on where and whom it chooses to be victims. - I also weep inside for all those too scared to weep or be seen to be weeping.

THIS IS A HELLHOLE AREA.

I love YOU dearest Fliss (Felicity A. Carthew) and want to be with YOU just as YOU promised me, and to YOURSELF, to be away from this hellhole forever. - I'm dying here.

ANOTHER DAMNED JET PLANE OVERHEAD!..........

[ofcros-blog]

First Article!

Hey folks,

In this article, I talk about Strength, my experiences on where it comes from, and what it is.  This is all my personal opinion, and I am open to discourse on the subject!  Read on, and I hope you enjoy!

Caoimhin

Of Strength

So many people talk about strength and where it comes from. Some say everyone is born with the strength that they need to overcome whatever challenges come into their path. Some claim that everyone is born with different types of strengths.  Even others state that only a few are born strong who are meant to predate upon the weak. Here I am to put in my two cents on the subject, and while this is my opinion, it is one that I have plenty of experience, both personal and vicarious, to back it up.  However, that is all that I have:  experience.  I have no psychological studies, or social experiments to back up any of what I’m about to say, but this is what I see in the people and the world around me.  

Where does strength come from?  Strength is a choice, and one that must be made every single day.  From the moment you wake up to the moment you fall asleep, you have to keep making that choice in each moment.  Anyone can make that choice, but let’s face it, life and circumstance always get in the way of any decision.  Sometimes, there are people who have an easy time making that choice every day, as their circumstances are conducive to being able to choose to be strong.  Others, however, are not so lucky.  Life can really get in the way of strength, and someone’s circumstances can make it far more difficult to be strong.  For instance, let’s look at depression and suicide.  This is a very difficult topic for almost anyone to really examine.  Depression and suicide are not things to ever take lightly.  

What do I know of depression?  I was diagnosed several years ago with Major Depressive Disorder, and for a long time, despite increases in medications, I was only getting worse.  I won’t go into all of the experiences that I have had over the years in this particular article, but what I will say is that thanks to a wonderful therapist and incredibly supportive family and friends, I have been able to dedicate an astronomical amount of time to exploring my depression, its effects on myself and those around me, as well as how it affects others.  I don’t have any academic training on the matter, only that of experience.  My personal struggle with depression is actually why I have the ideas of strength that I do, as well as the experiences of anyone else whom I know that has dealt with depression.  

Depression makes life feel like you’re walking through a tar pit, slowly sinking deeper into the muck until it fills your lungs and you slowly suffocate.  Strength can overcome depression in every way, but what makes choosing strength is that depression takes away hope, it takes away motivation and drive, leaving someone with little foundation for that choice.  So how does someone choose strength with so little?  A healthy support network can make all the difference. Someone with depression, who has a good support system, has a far easier time deciding to be strong than someone who does not.  When you look at those who do suffocate in the tar of depression, and are left little choice but to end their life, many of them do not have a healthy support system. That is not always the case, and sometimes, despite support, the despair of depression can still be too much.  For the most part, though, a healthy support system, or the lack thereof, can make the choice of strength far easier or far more difficult.

I suppose now is a good time to talk about weakness, as one cannot understand strength without also understanding what it is to be weak. Weakness is not the inability to choose strength; instead, it is the conscious, willful decision against being strong.  Sometimes, it’s just too difficult to choose to be strong.  But weakness is something else entirely.  I have had to cut friends out of my life, whom I cared about very deeply, because they consistently chose to be weak.  When it was necessary for them to pick themselves up, they actively chose to stay on the ground and not get back on their feet. It’s terrible and unfortunate that I had to leave them behind, but it is not my job to pick them up, nor is it yours if you have people like that in your life.  That doesn’t mean that you always have to cut those people out, but if you struggle with strength as it is, weak people can be toxic in ways that most don’t realize until it’s too late.  Someone constantly choosing to be weak can be a drain, especially if you’re trying to help them.  Even if you aren’t, just seeing someone act in that way can make it more difficult to make your own choice for strength.  I don’t understand why, but I can say, from my experiences, that it does happen.  

A concept that I hear and see far too often is that of the strong preying on the weak.  I’m not going to lie, that thought sickens me.  If you have to shove others down in order to be strong, then you are not strong at all.  In fact, I would argue that forcing other people beneath you isn’t raising yourself up at all.  Indeed, it is a conscious choice to not pull yourself up, to not better yourself, and, therefore, it is weakness.  Only the weak predate upon others for their own benefit.  The truly strong instead help those around them to find their strength, they help others to choose strength every day.  It isn’t easy by any stretch of the imagination, but that is the mark of someone with true strength.  Look at the wolves.  Yes, they hunt prey, and more often than not that prey is weakened in some way, but wolves do this to survive.  We do not need to act as such.  We have farms for our food.  When it comes to one another, a pack will always stick together.  They do not leave the sick and elderly behind, they protect them. Obviously, the pack would have an easier time without the weakened holding them back, but that isn’t what they do. They take care of each other; as such, so should we.  

How do you choose to be strong?  It’s not so simple as just saying “I’mma be strong today,” the decision comes up in each act, small or large, throughout the day.  The first is getting out of bed.  The next is sometimes making a good breakfast, or going for a walk or run before work.  Each seems so small by itself, but hidden in there is the choice to be strong or not. Letting yourself sleep until the last minute before you get ready for work can cost you a good breakfast, and make you scramble first thing after waking up.  That just increases stress for the rest of the day.  It’s such a small thing, but choosing to get up with enough time to make a good breakfast or go for a run before having plenty of time to get ready for work is one of strength.  It’s easy to just fall back asleep, but that small decision has a fairly sizable impact on your day, and it makes future choices for strength just a little easier for the rest of the day.  

Some simple choices for strength are eating healthy, exercising, talking to someone going through a rough time, taking time out of your day to listen to someone, making yourself smile at a stranger, being nice to cashiers and waiters, helping someone carry groceries to their car. None of these are large choices, but they aren’t always easy if you’re pressed for time or not feeling too hot that particular day.  Each small decision adds up throughout the day, week, year, decade, and etcetera. Strength is rarely a large decision, it’s millions of tiny decisions over time.  That’s not to say that it isn’t huge at times.  There are situations where being strong is a massive, nearly impossible choice to make.  For instance, you are immeasurably busy, and really pressed for time, but a friend or family member is truly struggling that day, and maybe they are on the verge of collapse or self-harm.  The choice for strength may seem obvious here, but in truth, that situation will make the choice incredibly difficult.  Sometimes when you’re swamped with work or just stuff that needs done, things can slide past you easily.  So taking the time to stop for just a moment to listen can make all the difference for that person, and that choice is a massive one.  Like always, sometimes the big situations are easier, sometimes they are not.  

Sometimes, you won’t win the fight, so choose your battles. If you know you’re going to have a hard time at work, maybe skip out on a chore or two the day before.  Those can wait, though not for too long.  You have to take a loss somewhere, so make it a small one in order to succeed at a bigger task.  Though it is unfortunate, sometimes that means you can’t be there for someone in a little way.  But you can’t help them if you yourself are falling apart.  It only makes it more difficult for the both of you.  Survive first, help others second.  That being said, survival isn’t just an individual activity.  Mutual survival, while more work, is always far more successful than individual survival. This also does mean cutting toxic people out of your life.  It isn’t your job to carry someone on your shoulders.  If they refuse to stand on their own, there is nothing you can do for them.  Help people to stand, don’t be their crutch.  That is not your purpose, so don’t become the sole foundation of someone else.  The same goes for you as well, do not use someone else as a free ride through life. If you need help sanding back up, seek that help.  Ask someone to listen, ask them to just sit with you for a while.  It’s a small thing anyone can do, and it takes more strength to ask for help than to refuse it.  Refusing is easy, sucking up your pride to ask for help is far more difficult than it seems.  

Strength is a choice, and one that we all must make constantly.  Sometimes the struggle for strength makes us stop caring about ourselves, and so we will often stop fighting because we don’t see a point.  But if you cannot be strong for yourself, be strong for those around you. When you decline, you make it more difficult for those who care about you, but that isn’t an excuse to leave their lives in any way.  In doing so, you create a void of pain and loss that will never be filled.  You must fight to improve, to get stronger, so that the pain is lessened.  Not only this, but you will be a symbol of strength for them.  They will see how far you have come, and they will be inspired to fight all the harder.  Don’t just be a rock for them, be the mountain upon which the storm breaks. Show them that, despite what may come, they too can withstand any adversity, and that you will stand beside them. Those of us who struggle daily, that is our obligation to those whom we care about.  And if you are lucky enough to have an easier time with strength, then it is your obligation to help those who are not so fortunate.  Take the time to tell someone they are loved, or that they can overcome their struggles.  Listen to them, let them rant or cry to you.  Go sit with them and watch a movie or a TV show.  Just these small things can make a world of difference that you cannot even imagine.  Mutual survival is far easier than individual, even if it is more difficult for the immediate, it will always pay off.  This is the true meaning of strength.  Choose it, and nothing can stand in your way.  

#weekly #strength #pagan #paganry #paganism #druid #druidry #druidism #heathen #heathenry #heathenism

[venus1984]

a story i abandoned shortly after creation in 2015

Jacquelyn didn't speak a word when they got home. Bloom made her take a bath while his mom said her goodbyes, homeward bound after the night had taken an unfortunate left turn.

She sat in the tub by herself, the sound of running water being the only thing keeping her company at the moment. Steam billowed throughout the bathroom, the sterile whiteness of it all making her anxious. There were so many things wrong with Jac's life, it seemed only fair that Bloom should have a dirty bathroom every now and then. He just wasn't allowed to have a nice, stable family and a clean house.

Yet, not a single spot stained the shag carpets, (which Jac referred to as complete merde every time she saw them), not a single hair was left around the rim of the sink from shaving. Jacquelyn thought of her own bathroom at home, where undergarments and towels littered the floor, living proof of her unwillingness to do anything.

Do anything. She couldn't do anything. That was exactly what got her into this mess in the first place. Every time she tried to contribute, pains would pierce her body, leaving her retching on the top steps of Bloom's apartment complex.

"I'm not trying to be poetic," she said one night when she stumbled on the stairs again, the familiar feeling of hatred coursing through her veins, the fire lit somewhere in the pit of her stomach again.

"I know," Bloom said, pulling her through the last few steps until they reached his door.

"I know you know," she said quietly. "I just wanted to make sure."

She had dated a boy named Eliot once, just like the poet. Ironically enough, all he ever wanted to talk about was Hemingway. I know you can’t do it yourself, he said, so I'm going to love your sadness for you.

Intended as a joke? It’s always possible, but when something is brought up enough times, it stops feeling that way. Jacquelyn didn't want somebody to love her sadness. There was a difference between loving someone and romanticizing them, breaking them down, making them into a concept you could use for your next student film. She guessed that Eliot’s intentions were for people to look at him like a war hero, one that went to battle, and instead of slaying the dragon, he tamed it. She wanted him to slay the dragon. She wanted it to be him so badly.

There wasn’t room for boys after that, too much space was being taken up by the healing and the thick skin she was growing, coiling around her body everyday. She didn’t want space, anyway; couldn’t anyone let her suffocate in the goddamn peace and quiet? Couldn’t anyone leave her be?

But, even so, even after all her forsaken soliloquies, she knew Bloom knew. Bloom knew everything. And that was what scared her the most. He could hold all her cards, figure out exactly what she needed, but she herself was still tripping over her own two feet.

Her mind was overgrown with weeds and Bloom's was just like his name: flowers, fresh and clean, a bouquet of marigolds. He was a cup of tea, all swirled together with being-there and good intentions. It was overwhelming a lot of the times, and she knew he was trying to help, but there was a voice in the back of her head telling her he was only doing these things because she was too stupid to do them on her own.

So, really, did it make her a bad person for starving the flowers of water sometimes, like purposefully ignoring his calls and texts, purposefully slamming the door too hard, purposefully bringing him down so she could climb on his shoulders and boost herself up? Why was she so satisfied when he stumbled? It was wrong, it was bad, filthy and unforgiving.

Bloom deserved someone who baked cakes for him and played with his hair at night. Not constantly caught in the ropes and cords they tied themselves. Someone who didn't hate everything they admired about him. Someone who was managing.

There was a knock on the bathroom door. She turned the water off and sat dripping and nude, her hair slicked against her back in one long, sleek piece. It had been months since she had gotten it cut, but she was afraid of the chop now, afraid of the change when her life had been so inconsistent and murky lately.

"It's open," she said hoarsely. Bloom poked his head in.

"Feel up for a coke?" he asked, creaking the door open a bit more to point to the two glass bottles in his hand. Jacquelyn nodded her head and he stepped inside, pulling the chair from the vanity towards the edge of the tub so he could sit. There was more silence while he struggled to twist off the bottle cap of her coke.

"The package says, 'easy twist-off,'" he said while gripping his fingers tightly around the cap once more. "I say we sue for false advertising."

Jacquelyn smiled at this, and when he did finally pop the cap off, she sipped her coke and he sipped his, and they watched each other for a long time in silence.

"I wish I could do this all the time," she said after awhile, her eyes crinkling while she attempted to read the tiny print on the bottle label.

"Do what?" Bloom asked.

"This. Just have a coke with you and pretend nothing happens to anybody," she replied, now looking up at him only to find he was staring straight back.

"Wouldn't that be sad, though? If nothing happened to anybody, what would all the musicians sing about? All those mushy pop songs you like to listen to would vanish, (he snapped his fingers with this), just like that. It’s cause and effect, Jac, simple grade school stuff,” he responded, setting his empty bottle on the spotless, tile floor. “Not to mention there would be a depressingly small selection of films to see. You can only write so many scripts about nothingness.”

"I could do without films," she added, picking at the label now. Bloom laughed at this comment as if it were the funniest thing he'd heard all day.

"You'd throw yourself out of a moving car before Harry Potter was taken away from you," he said with a small smile. She tried to hold it in, but she laughed anyway, because as much as she didn’t want to admit it, he had been spot on.

“A modern day masterpiece! A classic for kids and adults of all ages, in all walks of life!” she said, throwing her arms into the air for added effect, and while they both continued in this fit of laughter, Jacquelyn tried to take in everything about him while she could because she knew it would all be over soon, too soon. His wide smiled laugh, the mess of hair on that lovable head she had kissed more times then she could count, the flush in his cheeks when he was really, truly happy.

She was getting ahead of herself, she knew this.

It began to grow quiet again and it seemed Jacquelyn would need a padded lock to keep her mouth shut these days, "I really like you Bloom. Why do I have to really like you?"

He furrowed his eyebrows and gave her a weird smile.

"I'm quite the catch," he quipped, drumming his fingers along the edge of the bathtub.

"I mean, you're so nice," she began, picking at the bottle label again and ignoring his comment, "and all I do is ruin people, I absolutely ruin them.”

“What are you talking about?”

Oh no, it was coming. First, the quaking of her calves, her thighs, spreading until she had goosebumps all over. Next, the loss of solidified voice, everything a cry for help. But, she couldn't stop talking. All of it was falling out haphazardly at once.

"You're so nice, Bloom, you're so kind," she was crying now, her nails scratching at the label. "I'm taking you for granted, I know I am. I'm trying to get better for you, but you're just so nice."

"Jac," he replied quietly, touching her shoulder, her bare skin. She was concentrating on her bottle almost brutally, ripping at it, bits of the label flaking off into the soapy water. "Come on, let's get you out."

He reached for the once abandoned towel on the rug and then helped her stand, wrapping it snuggly around her body. She was still crying and chanting choruses of, "you're so kind, you're so nice," as Bloom led her into his bedroom to find some clean clothes.

When he set her on the bed, he knelt down to face her directly. She seemed momentarily inconsolable as tears carried down the hills of her cheeks, her face red and blotchy.

"Jacquelyn, listen to me,” he said firmly, wrapping their hands together, "don't get better for me."

She listened attentively like he asked, startled at the use of her full name by Bloom. He was always calling her Jac, or Jackie, or Jackie O., the latter being one he had only used once, but she still took note regardless because she took note of everything he did.

"Get better for you because you deserve it," he continued, his eyes pouring over her like he was a desperate tourist and Mona Lisa was considering slashing her own canvas.

She began to shake her head, but he stopped her.

"I know there's a lot of things you need to work out on your own, Jac. As much as I want for you to be happy, I understand I can't fix you. But, that's okay. And I'll be here with you while you get better," he said while his fingers traced down the side of her face and jawline.

"And after you get better," he added, ragged breaths coming out of her mouth now, her chest heaving.

"You're so nice," she repeated, looking on the verge of tears again. But, this time, it was for a different reason. Bloom was saying all the things that other people didn't. Bloom was willing to run a bath and drink a coke with her just to make her feel better. Bloom was there and he was there and he was just there.

"I am pretty nice," he teased, giving her a small smile.

"And your mom is so nice."

"It runs in the family.”

#fiction #old #i was newly 18 when i wrote this #seems like a lifetime ago