#...because that didn't magic away my suicidality like it 'should have'... | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mymoonagedaydream · 1 year

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Summary: After the incident things were looking pretty bleak, but the one thing you thought would make everything worse ended up saving you.

Pairing: Bodyguard!Bucky x y/n

Word Count: 7.8k

Warnings: Language, mentions of suicide and self harm, mentions of guns and gun violence

Author’s Note: So I wrote a one shot because I cannot, for the life of me, stick to a consistent writing schedule. Enjoy!

---

You never expected anyone to feel sorry for you. That had been a pretty consistent theme throughout your life, why would anyone feel sorry for the kid who got everything they asked for? Granted, the only things in your past that might have sparked an ounce of pity were trivial, like a broken ankle or a bad break up, but even after this mess you never expected much.

It'd been a few months now since it happened, either two or three, you weren't sure exactly- enough time for seemingly everyone you'd ever met to show up and implore you to tell the story over and over again. One or two of them did appear genuinely concerned but you couldn't shake the feeling that most of them just wanted the gossip, desperate for anything to make them the most interesting person in the room at their next garden party or champagne brunch or ambassador's reception. Every single painful, repetitive, disingenuous conversation you had to sit through served as a further reminder of why you’d left this life behind as soon as you had the chance. Now you were stuck back here for god knows how much longer, and everything just felt bleak.

A soft knock rapped against your bedroom door. You didn't bother answering, they'd just let themselves in, they always did. The knob turned and the door creaked open, your father's timid face peering in.

“Are you busy?” It was nice of him to ask, but it was also unnecessary, because you hadn’t left your couch to do anything other than pee in weeks. “Your aunt Carol is here. She brought you some gifts, I thought it might make you feel better.”

Both of you knew very well that it would have the opposite effect, the only thing you'd ever resented your mother for was bringing that vapid bitch into your life. Well, that and accidentally letting slip that the tooth fairy wasn’t real on your third birthday.

Carol careered round the door and past your father in her typical pantomime dame dress and makeup. You smirked, thinking to yourself that, in dimmer light and with some sinister music, it would've made an excellent scene for a horror film. Ever since your mother passed she’d been sniffing around the house more and more, you were convinced she was trying to seduce your dad to get his money but you couldn't prove it. Thankfully, he had enough sense to stay the hell away from her.

“Oh, look at you, you poor thing. You look awful.” She clunked the wrapped box and card she was holding down on the table and joined you on the couch, her offensive perfume making your nose begin to itch. “Come on, auntie Carol is here for you now, tell me everything darling.”

You gave your father, who was standing by the door looking very apologetic, a harsh glare.

“There's not much to tell. Dad was mid-speech when some guy in the audience stood up, next thing I knew he was getting tackled and there was a loud bang. I look down and I'm bleeding.”

“Oh my, who was he?”

“Just some crazy, nationalist, militia guy targeting politicians, apparently. They have no idea if he was alone or with a group so it’s safer for me to stay here for now. My apartment is too much of a risk.”

“Bless you. It's so difficult being in the public eye, but you are so brave.” She pointed down to your stomach, “and don't worry, I've got some magic serum that'll clear up any unsightly scars ready for bikini season. I'll send you my diet plan, too.”

You turned the dial up on the daggers you were shooting your father every time she looked away, and he finally took the hint.

“Okay, Carol. We should let her rest now.”

“Alright, love you so much baby. Look after yourself, okay? Maybe run a comb through your hair or something. Very frizzy.”

You rolled your eyes at her back as she left and reached over to grab the card. There was a sad puppy on the front, sitting beneath the words sorry you’re having a hard time. You figured that Hallmark probably didn't stock a sorry you got shot by a psychopath card.

Your father was lingering. He never lingered.

“Everything okay, dad?”

“Yes. Although, there is something I need to tell you.”

“Go on.”

“I've hired someone.”

“Right.”

“For you,” he noted your confusion, “to protect you.”

“A bodyguard?”

“No, he's not a bodyguard.” You raised an eyebrow. “He's not just a bodyguard.”

“The hell does that mean?”

He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. Wiping the sweat from his palms onto his trousers, he strode over and took a seat beside you, preparing himself with a deep breath. This was serious.

“The last time you saw Dr Burke she recommended that we… don't leave you on your own too much. So, he's going to be looking out for your welfare, going to be spending time with you.”

“Ah, I see. Suicide watch. Great.”

“I’m worried about you. You barely eat, you don't move from that spot, you haven’t showered for weeks. I know you miss being in your own place but,” he put his hand on top of yours, “I’ve already lost your mother, I can’t lose you too.”

Well, that hit you like a punch in the gut.

“Okay, dad. If you think it’ll help.”

“I do.” He stood up, giving you a light kiss on the top of your head before turning to leave. “He’ll be here in a few hours.”

---

You were woken from a light sleep by another knock on the door. The only thing you hadn’t been struggling with recently was sleep, it was the only way you could make your days pass quicker.

Again, the door creaked open before you answered. Your dad stepped in followed by a man you assumed to be your new long-term babysitter. You’d expected someone more stern looking, someone dressed like an extra from Men in Black, but he just looked like a normal guy. He had a strong face, broad shoulders and deep brown hair. If you’d been in a different state of mind you might even have considered him attractive, but you were far too tired for anything like that.

“Sweetheart, this is-” Your father looked blankly over to his companion, obviously already having forgotten his name.

“James. Nice to meet you.”

You mustered a faint smile. There was a brief, awkward silence as your father’s eyes flicked from you back to the composed looking guest, whose huge arms were folded over his chest.

“Well, uh- I have a call in a few minutes. I suppose I’ll leave you two to get to know each other,” he clapped a hand on James’ back, “just let me know if you need anything.”

Then, just like that, you were alone with a complete stranger. Your eyes stayed firmly fixed to the movie you’d slept through half of but were suddenly incredibly interested in. You heard James shuffle forwards, his broad frame eventually scooching into the edge of your vision.

“Look, I get it. You’re a grown-ass adult, I wouldn’t like having some stranger keeping an eye on me all the time either. If you want, I can just stick to the corner, stay out of your way. You won’t even know I’m here.”

That actually sounded like a pretty sweet deal, but you’d feel incredibly guilty having him perched on the other side of the room like a piece of furniture. The least you could do was be a little friendly.

“That’s alright, you can have the comfy seat,” you faintly motioned your head towards the nearby armchair, “but I’ll be shitty company.”

He happily settled himself in. “Makes no odds to me, I’m getting paid to be here.”

A short breathy chuckle escaped your lips, taking you by surprise. It’d been a long while since someone had made you laugh, all the conversations you’d had in the past few weeks had been unbelievably morbid and condescending, most of them with people you had no interest in talking to in the first place.

A couple of silent hours passed. You‘d gotten so used to being alone that you kept forgetting he was there, the odd cough or movement making you jump out of your skin. Eventually, Elaine pounded on the door and announced that she’d brought dinner up for both of you, so James jumped up and helped her with the cart.

Elaine was your father’s housekeeper and the only thing that had prevented him dying of starvation or exposure since your mom died. She was kind and patient, you liked her alot. Her food was always incredible, you felt awful for barely eating it over the last few weeks but the pain from your stomach wound combined with zero expenditure of energy had just killed your appetite.

James looked from his plate over to yours, his knife and fork poised. “You not eating?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“When’s the last time you ate anything?”

Someone had been talking to dad.

You shrugged. “This morning, I think.”

“Bullshit.” Your eyes snapped in his direction. “You know you’re not gonna get any better if you don’t eat, right? You’ll just have to put up with me bugging you for even longer.”

“Thought you were gonna stay out my way?”

“Mostly.” His mouth curled into a faint smile. “How about this, you eat a couple bites, I’ll eat the rest and we’ll tell your dad you ate the whole thing.”

You considered for a second. Not a bad offer, getting your dad off your back for a while would be pretty great. You knew what game he was playing but you were more than willing to play too just as long as the benefits outweighed the drawbacks.

“Deal.”

You expended a tremendous amount of effort leaning yourself forward and grabbing the plate, feeling James’ gaze tunnelling into the side of your face as the two of you began to eat. You had to admit, you enjoyed the food much more than you’d expected, half the plate had gone before you felt full. James looked pretty smug while finishing off the rest of it.

The sky outside slowly turned dark and you could feel yourself getting sleepy, so you settled deeper into the couch for your third sleep of the day.

“Hey,” James leant forward in his seat, “you need help getting to your bed or anything?”

“Oh, no, I’m good. I usually just sleep here.”

He gave you a puzzled look. “There? Is that comfortable? Can’t be good for your back.”

“Probably isn’t, but I don’t have the energy to move.”

“You don’t need the energy,” he sprung up from his seat, “you’ve got me.”

Before you could comprehend what was happening, James had an arm anchored around your upper back and was inching you upwards, away from the safety of your sad-zone and onto your feet. A few mild pangs of pain shot through your stomach but it wasn’t enough to make you fight back, so you just gave in, relaxed into his grip and let him walk you across the room.

Your mattress was unbelievably comfortable and you felt knot after knot untying in your back as you stretched out flat, but you didn’t need to tell him that. Who was this magical asshole, anyway, showing up and suddenly knowing what would help you better than you did?

“I’m just gonna crash on that armchair, if that’s all good with you.”

“There?” You carefully rolled onto your side so you were facing away from him. “Can’t be good for your back.”

A deep chuckle came from behind you. “Smartass. Shout me if you need to go to the bathroom or anything.”

You just grunted, already half asleep. It was only another minute or so before you drifted off peacefully and got the best night of rest you’d had in weeks.

Maybe this babysitting thing wouldn’t be so bad after all.

---

You woke to the sound of soft snoring on the other side of the room. Light was bleeding in around the curtains and you could hear footsteps in the corridor, probably your father heading downstairs for his coffee and newspaper. Coming to your senses, you rolled over and suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to pee. You propped yourself up on your elbows and looked over to see James’ limp hand hanging over the edge of the armchair.

You didn’t need him, you could do this.

Swinging your legs over the edge of the bed and hoisting yourself up was easier than expected but that, unfortunately, made you a little overconfident for the rest of the journey. After a couple of steps the pain started. You felt pathetic but that amount of effort had actually winded you, all you could do was lower yourself to the ground to catch your breath.

“What the hell are you doing?”

You didn’t even realise he’d woken up, you were too busy wheezing.

“Gotta pee.” You managed to push your words out between gulped in breaths.

“What did I say last night, huh? You should’a yelled.” He lowered himself beside you, placing one arm around your back and one under your knees. “Alright, brace yourself.”

“Wait, what are you-”

You choked on your words when he lifted you clean off the floor, a feat that not many had accomplished in the past. He offered to take you as far as the toilet itself but you adamantly refused, determined to cling onto your last shred of dignity while just about managing to shuffle over there, supporting yourself on the sink.

You washed your hands and intentionally avoided looking in the mirror, moving straight over to the door and finding your minder stood directly outside.

He folded his arms. “While you’re here, why not take a quick shower?”

“I’m not supposed to get my dressings wet.”

“Again, nice try, but you really gotta do better than that to bullshit me.”

You let out a heavy sigh. “Can’t you just let me rot away in peace?”

“I mean, I could, but I’m pretty sure your dad would refuse to pay me.”

“I’ll pay you to leave me alone.”

“You can’t afford me, honey.” He smirked and slipped past you. “I’ll get the water going.”

James turned the shower on and put some folded towels by the sink before heading back into your room and gathering some clean pyjamas. You just stayed where you were, leaning against the counter, as he buzzed around like an overexcited child.

“You’re all set. I’ll be right outside if you need me.”

“Thank you, supernanny.”

He flipped you the bird. You laughed and locked the door.

Slowly, carefully, you got undressed, removed your bandages and placed them in the bin. You then had to perch yourself down on the closed toilet seat for a brief break before climbing into the shower. Standing under the water, you looked down at your wound for the first time in weeks, finding yourself amazed at how quickly it had healed. You ran your fingers over it. Never in a million years did you think you’d have a healed gunshot wound anywhere on your body. You thought back to what your aunt said, maybe it was unsightly, it certainly looked weird from this ang-

“You alright?”

James’ overbearing voice snapped you out of your train of thought.

“Yes.”

You turned off the shower and stepped out, lifting a towel to your face and savouring the feeling of finally being clean again. You couldn’t imagine how bad you must’ve smelled before. You pulled on the fresh pyjamas before taking a deep breath and wiping down the mirror, getting a nasty shock when you saw yourself. It looked like all the life had been drained out of you. Your face looked pallid, red eyes sitting above deep, dark bags while skin flaked from your chapped lips. Your hair was still dripping wet but you could tell that weeks of neglect had taken a toll on it.

It seemed like James might’ve come along just in time, any longer sitting in that misery pit and these changes might’ve become irreversible.

“Still all good?”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, just trying to remember the most efficient way to cut wrists. Is it horizontal or vertical?”

Throwing your towel in the laundry basket, you opened the door to see a very unamused looking man.

“Real funny.”

He didn’t get a chance to properly scold you before Elaine knocked on the door with breakfast, a smug grin settling on your face as it dawned on him that he probably shouldn’t cuss you out in front of your father’s closest confidante.

The two of you settled into your designated spots. James immediately started digging into the plate that had been piled high for him but you held off, it had been a while since you stood up for that long and you needed to recover. Sharp pangs of stomach pain weren’t exactly the perfect accompaniment to a hearty appetite.

James placed his fork down on the table and leaned back in his chair, mouth full of food. “We gotta do this again, buttercup?”

“I just need a minute.”

“I thought we had a deal.”

“We did,” a bolt of inspiration struck as you realised it was your turn to get a little something interesting out of this relationship, “but I want to change it up a bit.”

“Alright, go on.”

“I’ll eat if you tell me the most insane thing that’s happened to you while bodyguarding.”

“I really shouldn’t talk about that.”

“Shame,” you dramatically pushed your plate away with a flourish, “I was actually feeling pretty hungry.”

He considered, glaring at you from beneath an arched eyebrow and rhythmically tapping his fingers against the arm of the chair. “Fine, but you gotta finish the whole plate.”

“The whole plate.”

“Alright.”

He leant forward again and carried on eating so you followed suit, forcing down one small bite at a time and just hoping that his story would be worth the pain.

“So, one time some rich dude hired me ‘cause his daughter was worried she had a stalker. Apparently she kept seeing someone in a black hoodie following her around, she even saw ‘em standing on their lawn a few times. Thing is, no-one else had ever seen it. I think half the reason I was hired was to figure out if she was just going crazy.”

“Was she?”

“Be patient, pumpkin. You’ll find out.” Your cheeks flushed a little when he called you that. “A couple weeks passed and I hadn’t seen anything. Then, middle of the night, everyone else was asleep and I was doing my rounds. I looked out the window to the yard and there was someone standing underneath her window in a black hoodie.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah, shit. So, obviously, I sprinted down there, but they spotted me and started running. They vaulted the fence and I would’a lost ‘em in the trees but they got snagged on the other side. I grabbed ‘em, pulled down the hood and-” He eyed the huge fork-full of food you were hovering by your mouth, “you wanna eat that?”

You rolled your eyes, shoved it all in your face and let out a muffled plea. “And?”

“It was her, the daughter.”

“Fuck off.”

“Dead serious. Turns out one of her friends had a stalker and was getting a load of sympathy and attention because of it, so she got jealous and made up one of her own. She figured if I saw it just once everyone would believe her.”

“That’s so fucked. Is that even legal?”

“No idea, not my job. I got my paycheck and left the next morning.”

“Nice to know you really care about your clients.”

He laughed. “Most of my clients are spoiled assholes who never even bother to learn my name.”

“Really? Can’t be hard to learn a name as simple as Justin.” You received your second unamused scowl of the day. “Anyway, we spoiled brats have enough on our plate without having to learn the name of the person willing to take a bullet for us.”

“Nah, you’re not spoiled.”

“You think?”

“Trust me, I’ve seen spoiled. You’re not spoiled. I think you’re the only client I’ve actually enjoyed talking to.”

Interesting. Probably shouldn’t delve into that statement too deeply.

“I’d take that as a compliment but it sounds like there isn’t much competition.”

He smirked, staying silent for a few seconds before speaking again. “My friends call me Bucky, by the way. I prefer it to James. And I really prefer it to Justin.”

“If you insist,” you shrugged, “but I still think you’d make a good Timberlake.”

---

You managed to stomach a good amount of food that day and you even had a good stab at breakfast when the next day rolled around, so you hoped that Bucky might leave you to your own devices for a while now he’d got his own way.

He did not.

As soon as you’d swallowed the last mouthful of toast he announced that he was going to take you on a walk around the garden.

You looked from him to your stomach, then back at him. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah. We’ll take it slow, one step at a time, and it’ll make you feel better. I promise.”

“Can’t we just open a window?”

“Nope.” He slapped his hands down on the arms of the chair and jumped to his feet. “C’mon sweetheart, you know I’m just gonna annoy the hell out of you until you agree.”

“Is threatening me allowed in your contract?”

“It’s not a threat. It’s persuasion with consequences.”

You eventually relented. He was super keen to get going but it soon became clear that he’d overestimated how far along the healing process you were, it took the two of you almost an hour just to get out of your bedroom and down the stairs with all the constant stopping for breath. Bucky went ahead and pulled open the sliding glass door, your mood instantly lifting when the first breeze of fresh air washed over you. You were starting to hate how often he was right.

He offered you his arm and set a bench on the other side of the lawn as your goal. The neatly mowed grass felt soft between your toes, the faint sounds of birds and planes overhead helping you relax a great deal more than the constant background noise from the TV you’d kept switched on for weeks now. When you reached your goal, Bucky helped you lower yourself onto the seat and carefully squeezed himself beside you once you were settled. Sitting this close to him felt strange, you were used to him being confined to his armchair, and the bench was a pretty small one. His thigh was pressed up against yours. You tried not to think about it.

Deeply inhaling the smell of grass and flowers into your lungs made you feel like a new person but it was also making you a little drowsy, the journey down had zapped all your energy and the warmth from the morning sun was cosy and soothing.

The next thing you remembered was your head being gently nudged, prompting your eyes to flicker open.

“Sorry, princess. I’d let you sleep for hours but I really need to pee.”

You came to your senses and felt the crook of Bucky’s neck against the top of your head. His arm was around you, hand gently resting on your shoulder.

“Shit, sorry.” In your embarrassment you sat up a little too quickly, wincing at the pain that shot through your stomach.

“You alright?”

“Oh, yeah. Just, y’know, the ol’ bullet would.” You laughed off his concern and waved him away. “Go pee.”

“Alright, I’ll just be a minute, don’t move.”

“Couldn’t if I wanted to.”

He was already sprinting across the lawn when he shouted back. “That’s the spirit, sunshine.”

You shot a giddy grin at the back of his head. It still felt like morning but you had no idea how long you’d been knocked out for, you just knew you could very easily spend every night resting in Bucky’s neck like that.

---

Your shadow had been with you for about a week now and, contrary to all initial expectations, you’d actually been enjoying his company. He could be annoying as hell with his constant demands pushing you further and further when all you wanted to do was melt into the couch, but you could see that he was good for you. You supposed that being forced to spend every second of every day with someone gave you no choice but to recognize their good qualities. Thankfully, he seemed to have a lot of those.

Elaine had just collected the dishes from lunch and Bucky had somehow stolen the remote from you. He flicked on some appallingly trashy reality show, your concentration faded in and out but every time you forced yourself to pay attention someone was either screaming or necking.

You’d barely even registered the knock at your bedroom door when he jumped up and launched himself towards it like the diligent little soldier he was. You listened intently, your stomach turning when you heard Carol’s voice interspersed with his. Hopefully he’d assess her as a security threat and slam the door in her stupid face.

To your great disappointment, he did not.

“Oh my,” she looked a little more like a painted old hag than a pantomime dame today, “who is that and where can I get one?”

“That’s James, dad hired him to keep an eye on me.”

“Do you know which agency he’s with?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t uncle Frank leave you the house and the security guard in his will?”

“Ugh, yes but he could’ve been a bit more thoughtful. I’d rather not have to look at that beer belly every time I drive through the front gate.”

“I see.”

You tried to plead for help from Bucky with your eyes but he was too busy giving a confused look to the back of her embroidered jacket, the one that you were convinced had been made from old curtains and lampshade tassels. She placed herself down in his seat, leaving him bewildered, turning on the spot like a glitched out video game NPC. He eventually just sat beside you.

“So,” she crossed her veiny old legs, “did you like the present I brought you before?”

You did not like the present she brought you before. It was a self help book whose blurb encouraged you to 'break free from your own mental cage' and 'start being the best version of you'. That mindset is incredibly toxic, Carol. Therapists and antidepressants exist for a reason, Carol. Not everyone can make themselves feel better by getting sloppy wine drunk on their dead husband's money every evening, Carol.

“Yeah, it was great. Thanks.”

“I knew you'd love it, so I brought you something else.” She scurried around in her comically oversized purse for a while before pulling out a small white tub. “It's that miracle balm I told you about, for the scar.”

She noiselessly mouthed the word scar and covered the side of her mouth so Bucky couldn't see, like it was a dirty word, like she couldn't bear to think of the handsome man in the room knowing about such an ugly thing.

“Oh right, thanks but I'm not really supposed to put anything on it while it's still healing. Could get infected.”

“No honey, if you let that thing heal on its own you'll regret it, trust me.”

“Well, the doctor said-”

“Baby, look at me.” The legs became uncrossed as she leaned in. “I'm going to be honest now because I love you. Your body is a five out of ten, maybe a six if you did a cleanse.”

“Right…”

“Now, with this hideous thing sitting on your stomach, you're down to a three. I don't want that for you, do you?”

You were speechless for a second. The words fuck off were just beginning to form in your mouth when she cut you off, turning her attention to the equally pissed looking Bucky.

“How about a man's perspective, hmm? You wouldn't want a partner with something so ghastly on them, would you?”

The calmness with which he answered her was pretty impressive.

“Well, to be honest, I couldn't give a fuck, cause I tend to rate personality higher. Like you, for example, are two out of ten but with a few lessons in grace and courtesy, I could see you moving up to a solid five.”

Your mouth fell open. The breath hitched in your lungs as your eyes flicked between the two of them, one looking outraged, the other looking very fucking pleased with himself. The silence was tense.

After a few seconds she leapt up and stormed out of the room, her heels rapidly clicking against the floor while she screeched your father's name.

Bucky just shrugged at you. “Guess her own medicine didn’t taste too sweet.”

“That was amazing.”

“I'm used to dealing with assholes like that,” he followed her lead, standing up and heading for the door, “but, unlucky for her, I'm in charge of who gets access to this room.”

“You can ban her?”

“If I think she's causing you harm I can do whatever I want.”

“You’re my new favourite person.”

“Can I get that in writing?”

He’d been gone for a while when some muffled shouting started downstairs. Too invested in the situation not to investigate, you decided to slide yourself off the couch and press your ear to the floor in an effort to make out the words. It didn’t work, obviously, and you soon realised there was no way in hell you’d be able to hoist yourself back up again. You just had to wait on the ground while your dignity slowly drained away piece by piece.

Bucky eventually returned, predictably freaking out when he spotted you.

“Shit, what happened? Did you fall?”

“No I kinda… slid.” He gave you a puzzled look while lifting you back onto the couch. “Sorry, I was trying to hear the argument. What happened?”

“She won't be bothering you again.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“Can I keep you forever?” You rested your head against the couch cushions. “I’ll let you watch as much trash TV as you want.”

“Don't threaten me with a good time.”

---

A week passed and then another, and with each day you were achieving more and more. Bucky had you showering every day, eating three square meals and taking increasingly lengthy walks around the garden- when your painkillers were doing their job. He’d even spoken to your father about making sure everyone in the house waited for a response after knocking on your door. It sounded like an insignificant thing but you really valued every ounce of privacy you could get your hands on, and it did wonders for improving your mood.

Another thing that was helping in that regard was spending most of your downtime just talking with him. On more than a few occasions you’d actually forgotten he was being paid to stick around, it felt more like you were hanging out with an old friend.

Sometimes it felt like you were hanging out with more than a friend but, every time those feelings started to surface, you quickly pushed them back down into the dark depths in your mind. Acknowledging them would just set you up for inevitable disappointment.

Today, you’d agreed to leave your father’s property for the first time since the incident. Bucky had offered to take you out for a coffee as a soft reintroduction back into the normal world. He drove you out in his ridiculously oversized SUV, passing plenty of perfectly good coffee shops so he could show you his favourite one. It didn’t look like anything special but you trusted him.

He helped you to one of the outside tables, took your order and shuffled inside, giving you a wink over the top of his sunglasses. You rested your hands on the table and glanced around. The street was busy with people and cars and most of the other tables were full, it was midday so you figured most of them were working people taking their lunch breaks.

Then, just for a second, out of the corner of your eye you saw someone in the street stop. Looking over, you made brief eye contact with them before they checked their watch and continued walking. Why were they looking at you? Your eyes darted around the other faces passing by, your panic starting to rise when another of them looked your way.

You grabbed onto the edge of the table, your palms prickling with sweat. The quickening pace of your heart made it harder and harder to pull breath into your lungs, all the muscles in your legs started to tense and your vision blurred at the edges.

“You okay?”

Two takeout cups were hastily abandoned on the table in front of you and a soothing hand landed on your back, Bucky’s face trying to make its way into your line of sight.

“Mhmm.”

“I told you not to bullshit me. What happened?”

“Nothing, really. I just-” You pulled in a stuttering breath. “Need to adjust.”

“Pretty hard to do that when you’re mid panic attack, no? C’mere.”

He turned you round to face him and took you through some breathing exercises, helping you get back in control. The worst of the storm eventually passed but you were pretty shaken up, and he could tell.

“Maybe this was too soon.”

“No, this is good. It probably would’ve happened even if we'd waited longer. Better to get it out of the way.”

“And what if the coffee had taken another ten minutes? You would’a just passed out while I was waiting for fucking milk to foam.”

He seemed angry, but not at you.

“It’s okay, Buck. Really. I could’ve been hit by a truck on the walk over from the car but wasn’t, so why worry about it.”

“Still, we should get you somewhere less crowded,” he took you by the hand, which was unusual, cause he usually just guided you with a flat palm on the back, “probably should’ve started with that.”

You headed back to the car, Bucky somehow juggling you along with two hot drinks, and drove a few miles out of the city. He said he knew of a short, flat hiking trail out in the woods that was only ever busy on weekends. It wasn’t exactly the reintroduction into society that the two of you had planned but, at the very least, it was a step above walks around the yard.

He calmed down once you began walking, the jolly, laid back, Bucky that you were used to quickly resurfacing. It was a huge relief, him being on edge made you on edge and that wasn’t exactly the optimum mood for avoiding another panic attack.

He kept a firm arm around you most of the way, anchoring you to him and protecting you against potential falls. You were pretty sure they were the only reasons.

“I must look fucking dreadful,” you chuckled, “if we bump into anyone they’ll probably think you just found me in the woods.”

“Shut up, you look great.”

“For a three-week-old corpse.”

“A corpse wouldn’t argue back so much.”

“I’m just keeping you on your toes.”

“Damn right you are.”

You smiled to yourself, hearing the warmth in his voice, and decided now was a good time to finally ask him a question you’d been thinking about for a while.

“So, you’ve really never had another client you’ve enjoyed talking to? Not even one?”

“Not that I can remember.” He shrugged slightly. “Why are you so surprised, anyway? We both know how many assholes there are out there.”

“True. I just think you’re easy to talk to, I guess. I’m surprised no-one else made the effort.”

“That’s sweet of you doll, but you should know that just letting me sit by you was completely new for me. I usually don’t even get a chair, never mind a conversation.”

“Brutal. I’m glad the shelter rehomed you with us.”

“Me too.”

You laughed for a second before realising that all this talking had used up your pitiful lung capacity. You came to a stop, Bucky quickly moving to stand in front of you.

“Something wrong?”

“No, I could just use a break.”

“Take as long as you need,” he placed his hands on your upper arms, “we can sit for a while if you want.”

“I’m good.”

Without thinking, you placed both hands on his chest to steady yourself, immediately realising that it was kind of a weird thing to do. Your eyes shot up to his but he was just smiling softly, seemingly unbothered.

The two of you held that position for what felt like an age.

Then, slowly, cautiously, his hands moved down to rest on your lower back, just above your hips. He stepped in closer and your hands tensed, grabbing two fistfuls of his shirt. He lowered his head, your eyes fluttering closed as his lips met yours. You eagerly reciprocated, curling a hand around the back of his neck in a feeble attempt to keep him there as long as you could. It fell, however, when he abruptly pulled away, your arms going limp at your sides.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“It’s okay, I-”

“It’s not. Jesus, I’m supposed to be looking after you.” He rubbed his eyes. “We should get back.”

“Can you just wait for a second? I’m not-”

“No.” He was stern, he’d never talked to you like that before. “We’re going back to the car, now.”

You were too shocked to argue. The walk back was tense and the drive home was the same, you looked over at him a few times but his stony expression encouraged you to keep quiet. You knew you hadn’t done anything wrong, and neither had he in your eyes, but you really had to keep reminding yourself of that. It felt like you’d committed a crime.

Once home, you headed up to your room but he didn’t follow, which was unusual. When your father knocked on your door later and told you that Bucky had removed himself from duty, you weren’t surprised. He claimed that a big job had come up out of nowhere.

He never even said goodbye.

---

You hadn’t so much as heard from Bucky since he left over a month ago. You’d maintained all his rituals and kept your healing process on track, adapting your daily walks so you could do them alone, sticking nearby walls and railings. It was a real struggle, emotionally and physically, but you were determined not to let him abandoning you knock you off course. You didn’t even let yourself cry when he left. You were just angry.

So, naturally, when a chance for you to prove to yourself how far you’d progressed without him came around, you jumped at it. A friend of your father’s was throwing a birthday party for his daughter, you’d never been able to stand her but you hadn’t had a proper drink since the incident- and the booze there would be insanely expensive stuff. Plus, you’d been pining for any excuse to wear something other than pyjamas.

You strolled into the party, arm in arm with your father, and you felt good. You felt ready to be there. That was, until you saw who was working security detail. You barely recognised him in the full black bodyguard suit, you were so used to a t-shirt and jeans, but it was definitely him. Your evening was instantly ruined as you started mentally plotting the best way to avoid him.

You decided a good first step was to head straight to the bathroom to compose yourself, giving yourself the same pep talk in the mirror that you’d given the day after he left. You’d come too far to let him fuck up your first big outing. You dabbed the nervous sweat from your upper lip, adjusted your outfit and gave yourself a nod. You could do this. You just needed to stay away.

Wandering back into the party, you looked around for your father, the only person in the room you had any interest in talking to. You heard your name being called over the music and turned towards it. There he was, standing beside Bucky, beckoning you over.

So your plan was fucked, then.

Your stomach tightened. You grabbed a drink from a nearby table and moved over reluctantly.

“There you are. Listen, James was just telling me about the big job he was called to, it sounds incredibly interesting.”

“Oh, really?”

You took a big gulp of champagne, wondering if Bucky’s fictitious story was as good as the real one he’d told you over breakfast that time. Or maybe that one was all made up, too. You glanced over and accidentally caught his eye for a second, but he quickly broke away and looked back at your father.

“I probably shouldn’t go into any more detail.”

“Of course not, I wouldn't want you getting in trouble.” You involuntarily scoffed at your father’s words but managed to play it off as a cough. “It’s such a shame, though. You two seemed to really be getting on well together.”

Your father looked back and forth between the two of you like he was watching a tennis match, unaware of how painfully awkward the lingering silence was. You finished off your champagne and grabbed a fresh glass from a passing waiter, looking around the room for any excuse to leave this conversation. Unfortunately, your father found one first.

“Ah, there’s the birthday girl, I’d better go pass on some well wishes. I’ll leave you two to catch up.”

You cringed as he walked away. Quickly deciding that it was better to not even attempt conversation, you just silently nodded at Bucky and turned to leave. You didn’t get far, however, as he grabbed hold of your arm and stepped towards you.

“Can we talk?”

You were incredibly shocked but tried to play it off. “I guess."

“In private?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you glared down at his hand, “but I would like it if you let go of my arm.”

“Sorry.”

He released his grip and you took a small step away, putting a safe distance between your faces. You were still pissed off at him, that much was for sure, but you weren’t ready to trust yourself being in such close proximity to him again. Anything could happen.

“I get why you’re pissed at me, I would be too. I just need to explain.”

“I know why you did what you did, Buck. You don’t need-”

“Please. Someone’s taking over my shift in ten minutes, will you meet me upstairs?”

“Upstairs? Like, past the rope with the big no guests allowed sign?”

“I’m sure you’ll be able to sneak past,” he smirked slightly, “I heard the security here sucks.”

He was right, too. You got up there with absolutely no trouble whatsoever.

All of the doors off the hallway were closed apart from one, at the very end. You took a gamble and slowly approached, peeking your head round to see Bucky perched on the edge of a huge bed. He shot up when he spotted you in the doorway.

“Sorry, I know this is kinda weird, it's the only room that wasn’t locked or, y’know… occupied.”

“Lovely.”

He nodded and gave you a smile. “You look great. Amazing, actually. How are you feeling?”

“Better,” his smile melted you a little, “mostly thanks to you.”

“Ah, you would’a been fine, I just annoyed you into being fine a bit sooner.”

You nervously rubbed the back of your head, in disbelief at how quickly he’d broken through your thick wall of resentment. You scrambled around trying to gather up some of the bricks and rebuild but being in the presence of that slick motherfucker was making it really difficult.

You gathered your thoughts, took a breath and spoke.

“Buck, like I said downstairs, you don’t need to explain. Obviously making out with your clients is a fireable offence, I get that, so you had to leave. Everyone makes mistakes.”

“You think I left ‘cause of that? You think some shitty job is more important to me than you?”

“I mean, yeah, kinda.”

“Jesus, I really am an asshole.” You gave him a confused frown as he reached out and took both of your hands in his. “Look, I couldn’t give a shit about this job, there’s bodyguarding positions everywhere and most of them don’t involve babysitting rich assholes. I left ‘cause I felt like I’d taken advantage of you. I couldn’t stand it.”

“Huh?”

“You were in a bad place. You were vulnerable and I was supposed to be looking after you, not- y’know...”

“Sucking face?”

He chuckled. “Yeah.”

“Right, but you do remember that I’m not a child, yeah? Just because I’m feeling shitty doesn’t mean I can’t make decisions for myself.”

“But it does mean your judgement is at least a little impaired.”

“Fine, whatever, but it isn’t anymore.” You squeezed his hands. “And I’m telling you now as a fully sane, rational adult that you didn’t do anything wrong. Alright?”

A relieved smile spread across his face. “Alright.”

“Good, cause I made a decision and I’m sticking to it.

“Might be a bad decision.”

“Sometimes bad decisions are more fun.”

“You can say that again.”

Your second kiss with Bucky was, somehow, even better. He was more sure of himself this time, less cautious, he moved in quicker. You did the same, wrapping both arms around his neck and letting him take some of your weight. You felt him smile against you as a hand dived into the back of your hair.

Now this was a kiss worth being fired for.

He pulled away, resting his forehead against yours. “For the record, the first time wasn’t a mistake. It was a… happy accident.”

“Whatever you say,” you chuckled, “I’m just glad we bumped into each other again.”

“Oh, we didn’t. I took this job after checking the guestlist.”

“You sneaky fucker.”

“You know it.”

---

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lokisprettygirl · 1 year

Text

The Night Screams at The Slumber Island (Loki x Female Reader) (Horror Romance) (Dark) (Au) (18+)

Read Chapter 12 here //Series Masterlist

Chapter 13

Summary : Steve brings some trouble. Your relationship with Loki grows even deeper.

Warning: Steamy stuff, 18+, discussion of rape, discussion of threesomes and poly relationships, sexual abuse, gaslighting, cheating, mention of Suicide, discussion of mental illness, therapy please read carefully. If something triggers you please don’t read it.

When you woke up that morning you found him in the kitchen. He was shirtless, his hair was tied in a bun, few strands adorning his face in a delicate manner like always, his trousers hung low at his waist and you felt your thoughts drifting again. The urge to get close to him was intense but as soon as he was in such a close proximity you felt threatened, you couldn't go forward no matter how much you wanted.

"Good morning darling" you snapped out of your thoughts when you heard his sultry deep voice, you couldn't help but wonder how wonderful it would feel to wake up to his voice everyday.

"Sorry I didn't mean to pry and stare like a creep" you squeezed your eyes and crossed your arms as you walked towards him, it was a cold morning and you wanted to stay in bed all bundled up, the school was closed today so you were very happy about that prospect.

"It's alright love, I know I'm very pleasing to look at" he winked at you and your face flushed, a shirt appeared on his body as he clicked his fingers then the green shawl he had conjured for you before appeared as well so he walked towards you and draped it around you, he leaned down to kiss you forehead before he stepped away from you.

"Thank you loki" you mumbled softly and he nodded, you asked him if he had a spare toothbrush so he conjured one and gave it to you, you had no idea if he needed to do all those thing, you had never seen him using the bathroom when he was with you but you knew he showered at least, sometimes you wondered if he even needed that because he always smelled divine, a mix of sandalwood and lemongrass, both scents made you feel comforted and at home.

After using the bathroom you wrapped the shawl around you again, there were fluffy slippers placed outside the door so you put it on too and made your way back to the kitchen then you hopped on the kitchen counter.

"Do you really have to cook, can't you just magic it ?" You asked him and he chuckled,

"That would be quite rude of me to do that, that's not how one should treat a beautiful lady now is it?" He asked you and you smiled, you loved the fact that he was making an effort, you still didn't understand your relationship with him, when you came here you considered him a friend but after everything he has told you, you just didn't know where you two were at.

"I ummm I just don't want you to think that you have to be liable for me all the time, I don't want to be a burden..I mean don't you want to go back home and be with your own people?" He stopped whatever he was doing and walked towards you, your breathing quickened immediately the more he closed the distance between you two but you didn't feel scared of him, there was a part of you that had come to truly believe that he won't hurt you. He placed his arms on the counter and leaned into you slightly, your gaze fell down automatically as that happened. You felt so alive around him. So shy, so timid like a schoolgirl with a silly crush on the man of your dreams.

"I do not have much over there, the people you speak of aren't my people anymore"

"Ummm what about your mother?"

"We are not on speaking terms for now"

"Ohhh I'm so sorry" you wanted to ask him what happened but you didn't want to be overbearing or nosey. He had told you enough already yesterday.

"You're not a burden to me, trust me darling if there was any hesitation on my behalf I wouldn't be here right now" you looked up at him and you could see the sincerity in his eyes, nobody has ever made you feel important like this before, sure you made friends along the way but nobody was there for you when they hurt you, when they tried to tell you that you were insane and there was no truth to your claims, when your world turned upside down your friends were the first ones to leave

"It may not feel that way to you but I enjoy your company very much and being with you here is very…calming for my soul " your eyes teared up as he said that and your arms flung around his neck, then you hugged him as tightly as you could. He sighed in response and it wasn't a sigh of annoyance but more of relief, he wasn't lying to you, he did feel calm and fulfilled around you, he never thought it was possible for him to develop a relationship like this with a mere mortal.

"You make me feel calm too Loki and I haven't had that feeling since the…since the accident" you mumbled softly as you pulled away and he furrowed his brows, he wished he could have done something to change your past but he wasn't the God of time.

Before things could escalate further he stepped away from you and finished the breakfast, after you had eaten you decided to get back to your place, on the way you noticed the scratch marks on the floor in his living room and it made you curious

"What happened? It wasn't there yesterday"

"Ahhh just some wild creature, do not worry about it, I scared it away" he chuckled and you couldn't help but smile, his smile truly was contagious. After you showered, you wanted to go for a walk on the beach, you wanted to ask Loki but you didn't feel comfortable enough so you went by yourself.

You had just started to enjoy the feeling of sand beneath your feet when you saw Steve approaching you, there was no one else on the beach and it kind of made you scared, you looked at the watch and it was hardly around 1 pm but the weather was dark, cloudy and had its typical slumber island gloominess. You had the shawl wrapped around you tightly and your own nails were digging in your own arms because of the way you felt around him.

"How are you y/n?" He asked you so you smiled politely.

"I'm good Steve, how are you??"

"I'm good, it gets a bit lonely here don't you think?" he said to you and you hummed in response, maybe you could have related with that if you actually were lonely but you weren't. Not anymore.

"Yeah I mean..not many people here around our age I guess" you mumbled and he stepped closer to you which instantly made you take a step back, he looked decent today, he smelled good too but you knew you couldn't trust a man like him.

"That's a shame really, I don't remember when was the last time I had sex you know" he chuckled and it made you even more uncomfortable, why would he talk about sex when he knew of your history?

"Ohh sorry baby, it must bother you after ..you know..that awful tragedy. You poor thing, has any man wanted to be with you since the incident?" You couldn't believe your ears as he said that, you knew you couldn't have trusted that fake smile of his. You turned around to leave and he caught up to you and stood in front of you which heightened all your senses.

"Look I'm sorry I'm just nervous, truth is I like you alot and I just want to spend some time with you..can we do that?" He asked you and he could tell you were getting irritated but he also knew that you were scared of him. Good thing he thought, the more scared you are, the easier it would be for him to manipulate you later.

You thought about Loki but he wasn't there, you couldn't see him there, he wasn't going to save you like he had promised to.

"No thank you, get out of my way" you glared at him and he was going to touch you when you took several steps backwards before you ran to the other side, it had started to rain heavily and you had dropped the shawl somewhere. You felt angry, so angry in the moment, not just with Steve but also Loki. He said he'd always be there when you needed him so where was he? Steve could have hurt you.

Steve followed you for a while as he called out your name but the closer you got to your house the farther he went away from you. You were drenched in the rain from head to toe and the wiser thing to do would have been to go home and make yourself a warm cup of coffee but you never had any control over your emotions when you were angry.

Before you could reach his house, he already had his door opened so you stormed inside, he knew you ran all the way from the beach, your dress was soaked, you were dripping water in the middle of his living room and you seemed extremely furious.

"Where were you?" You asked him as you stepped closer to him, your eyes were burning red with tears of frustration.

"I was there darling"

"No you weren't there ..you are a liar, and you are just playing me, he could have hurt me and you weren't there were you?" You raised your voice and he sighed, he didn't want you to be upset with him but maybe you needed to let all the pent up feelings of anger out and if it was him who was supposed to take the brunt of it then be it.

"I am always there with you, you just can't see me" you snickered as he said that.

"Ohhh really? So at what point were you going to barge in and hurt him? When he would have put his hands on me? or you were waiting for him to rape me too?" By the time you were done speaking the sobs had settled in and you broke down immediately, his eyes teared up as well so he walked closer to you.

"I wouldn't let him touch you, I promised you hmm? I was there..I'm always there with you whenever you'd need me"

You shook your head as you looked down, your anger was misplaced, you knew that, the verbal breakdown you just had left you feeling embarassed to the core.

"I'm sorry" you sobbed as you apologized to him, he has been nothing but kind to you and you have been nothing but rude to him at several times.

Your cries prickled his heart because he knew that Steve was just the tip of the iceberg, the rest of them wanted to hurt you even worse.

"Just calm down my darling girl, no need to apologize alright?" he placed his hands around your arm and pulled you closer to him so you cupped his cheeks and kissed him, one of his arms circled around your waist while the other one held your head.

"I'm sorry loki..I didn't mean to yell..I'm so sorry" you mumbled between the kiss and he took a few steps back until he hit the wall, then he picked you up easily and your legs wrapped around his waist, he was holding you in a manner that gave you leverage over him and you had to keep your head down so you could kiss him. Your hands sneaked inside his shirt and he moaned as he felt your nails caressing his skin.

He should have been the gentleman, he should have stopped you and comforted you, he definitely shouldn't have had filthy images of you underneath him as he'd make love to you but it was all there, he couldn't control it anymore, he didn't think he even wanted to. As you pulled away to breathe his lips latched onto your neck, he sucked the droplets of rain water off your skin slowly and your head rolled back as you felt the wave of sensations building up inside you.

"Couch please" you mumbled in his ears and he immediately complied. You sat down right on his crotch and the friction made you both moan loudly,

"Goddd sorry I'm drenched" you mumbled hurriedly and he couldn't help but smirk

"Are you?"

You didn't reply with words, you kissed him instead. As your hips rolled on top of him, he was cautious of your reactions, he didn't want to startle you right now, he wanted you to feel safe about what you were doing so he allowed you to take this the way you wanted and needed at the moment.

"Ohhh God that feels good" you moaned and he hummed in response, his arms wrapped around your body but you put them away quickly, then you linked his fingers with yours and placed them over his head

"Keep them there okay?" your voice sounded firm and he was completely captivated. That's when he knew what you needed, you needed control in moments like this, you didn't have control of your body after the accident and when that horrible monster forced himself upon you, you couldn't do anything about it, you didn't have any control over them.

"Yesss love, I will do whatever you want and need from me, just touch me please" his arms sprawled over the head of the couch and as you sucked several little kisses on his neck you felt him hardening underneath you, his warmth rubbed against your core as you kept grinding on him slowly.

"Godd this feels good..so good" you moaned as the sensations grew with every roll of your hips, the sounds he kept making only fuelled the fire that was burning in you.

"Norns my love..you truly are ravishing" he moaned along with you and you humped against him until the dam broke inside you, you haven't had an orgasm in a long time and the release made you scream his name out loud. He couldn't take his eyes off you, whatever he had imagined at nights in the past few weeks were nothing compared to how ethereal you looked amidst the height of pleasure.

As soon as you came back to your senses he noticed your flushed look and bashfulness making its way back into your demeanor.

"Ummm you…you did not..I.."

"It's okay, Don't worry about it love" you bit on your lower lip as he said that, you figured it would take a hell lot more than just humping to make a god cum.

"I was really close and no I'm not lying to you" you smiled a little at the courtesy, he just knew whatever was bothering you at the moment somehow. You got off his lap after you kissed him one more time.

"Ummm I should go change my clothes?"

"Want to stay here?" He asked you and you fiddled on your spot. You really wanted to stay "You can wear my clothes"

"Okay" you mumbled quickly and that made him smile, he could have easily dried you using the magic but that would have meant that he wouldn't get to see you in his clothes so he took his chances. He didn't know what would happen to you two once he gets you out of here.

In the shower, your fingers traced every inch of your skin, you could still feel his body against you, you could still feel his touch on your skin and his lips on yours.

He had given you the maroon shirt of his and a black trouser, you were drowning in his clothes but you looked adorable like always. He was making tea for you so you walked closer to him and hugged him from behind, he had taken the shirt off and even changed his pants, you didn't have to wonder why. His bare skin felt soothing and he shivered as you placed soft kisses on his back.

"I'm sorry Loki, I didn't mean to hurt you…I just..I got really scared and I couldn't see you and–" your eyes teared up so he turned around and cupped your cheeks,

"And I understand that, you don't have to apologize, okay?"

"Why are you so kind to me..what did I even do to have you?..I mean I'm not even that special"

"Don't say that, you're one of your kind, there can never be someone who'd exactly be like you" you smiled as he said that. He noticed the sullen look on your face and he couldn't tolerate that in the slightest.

"What's bothering you sweetheart?"

"I dropped the shawl you gave me somewhere on the way, I really wanted to keep it, it was soo warm and ...ummm fluffy" your eyes teared up so he kissed your forehead and then he clicked his fingers, you had the shawl wrapped around your body instantly. You couldn't stop smiling after that and after enjoying the tea he had made, you laid down on his bed, he took his place next to you so you clasped your fingers with him, that made him feel all fuzzy, he remembered he used to feel this way with her all the time before their relationship crumbled down and became nasty.

He couldn't help but wonder what It would be like to go to bed with you every night. To have someone like you who he knew won't hurt him the way she did.

He turned his head to look at you so you leaned into him and then you kissed him passionately.

That day couldn't have ended on a bad note, or that's what you had thought and of course every time you felt your life could get back to being normal it only got more complicated, you got a call from Phil that your therapist Stephen was waiting on the dock to see you.

But he wasn't alone, he brought someone with him. Someone you never wanted to see again.

💀💚💀💚💀💚💀💚💀💚💀💚💀💚

#loki #loki x female reader #loki x reader smut #loki x reader fluff #loki x reader #loki x reader insert #loki x reader fic #loki x you #loki x reader angst #loki alternate universe #loki au fics #loki horror romance #loki horror au #loki fics #dark themes

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girlwiththepapatattoo · 3 months

Text

The Unlikely Similarities Between Kittens and Vampires, Chapter 19

Warnings: referenced possible future suicide, Astarion being himself, canon typical violence, curse-related angst

Summary: No one has a good time when curses are involved.

Notes: Hey, I'm alive! I'm sorry about how long it's been between chapters: after being sick for a month straight, my brain didn't want to make the words happen for a bit. But I think I'm getting back on track, so hopefully not so long in between chapters this time.

As always, feel free to point out anything I missed in editing. Enjoy everyone! <3

Read on Ao3 here!

Previous Chapter | First Chapter

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“I’m glad she chose you.”

The elderly wizard gives Gale a smile. It’s fond…and achingly sad. He disappears in a puff of smoke, leaving the younger man standing there, his own smile slowly fading. It’s replaced with a fatigue that pulls on the lines of the magical tattoo next to his eye.

“Gale…” Sable whispers, laying her hand gently on his arm. “Are you…?”

“All right? I have no idea.” He presses his hand over hers and gives a soft squeeze, though he doesn’t let go for a long moment. “I never imagined that she would offer any sort of forgiveness at all…but I should have figured it would be something like this. My wrongs against her can only be paid with my life, I suppose.”

“Bullshit,” Sable spits, and Gale looks at her in surprise. The young druid is angry, furious even. “I’m not saying that what you did was right, because it wasn’t. But asking you to kill yourself in order to get forgiveness…that’s disgusting.”

“That’s justice, in her eyes.”

“Well, she needs her eyes checked.” His lips twitch. “You’re not…really thinking about doing it, are you?”

“Of course,” he says, with entirely too much forced cheer. “He offered the clearest solution to our problem. All I have to do is find the right place and time, close my eyes…and let go.” Bittersweet optimism floats through the tadpole connection. It makes her chest ache. “Then the slate will be clean. Wrongs will be righted, the Absolute will be gone-”

“And you along with it,” Sable says pointedly around a sudden lump in her throat.

Gale smiles weakly. “Everything always comes with a price.”

“This price is too high,” she snaps. Her fingers tighten in his sleeve. “There’s still time. I won’t let you do this, Gale, not if we can find another way.”

He softens, and he reaches out and gives her hair a gentle ruffle. “I’m all ears should that happen, my friend. But I won’t discount this chance either…as much as I dislike part of the outcome, if we can turn my misstep into a chance to destroy our enemy, well. More the better.”

Sable glowers at the wizard. To both of their surprises, she pulls him in for a bone-creakingly tight hug, then stalks away, wiping at an escaped tear. Gale blinks in surprise as he watches her go, and something tugs painfully in his heart. He’d do what he’d have to with this charge…but knowing that he has people who care about him here makes it much harder to be okay with.

“We’re going to take five,” she calls, her voice thick, “and then we’ll head through the door.”

“Who was that man?” Lae’zel asks, frowning as she looks over to the pensive wizard.

“Was it Gale’s granddad?” Karlach asks with a delighted smile. “I can see the family resemblance!”

“...no…that was Elminster Aumar. Apparently he’s the most powerful wizard in the realm.” She scowls. “Mystra sent him to Gale. She wants him to use that orb thing in his chest…to blow up the Absolute.”

Dead silence meets her ears, and she looks around to find the others staring at her in shock. “...Mystra wants Gale to blow himself up?” Halsin asks in disbelief.

“Oh…oh, poor Gale,” Karlach says, looking worriedly at the wizard.

Astarion frowns. “How awful. It’s a criminal waste of a perfectly good cult we could be controlling.” Everyone stares at him as if he just grew a second head, and he huffs, his lips twitching. “And a waste of a perfectly good Gale, I suppose.”

“Unbelievable,” Wyll mutters.

Sable slides down the wall, pulling her knees up to her chest and laying her forehead down on them. This sort of news, right before heading into a cursed land…

She’d laugh if she didn’t feel like crying.

///////////////////////////////////////

The very instant that the doors swing open, Sable freezes. Her heart pounds in her ears; her breath pours into her lungs like soup. Wrongness screams into her mind as she stares out at the landscape. Trees, blackened and twisted, reach up as if begging for mercy. Pools of blackness replace shadows, each one its own void, beckoning death…or worse. And there’s very nearly no sound other than what her group is producing. Even the sigh of the wind through emaciated branches sounds muted.

Sable has only recently been exposed to true nature, but even she knows that despite their mission, she wants to turn tail and run as fast as she possibly can.

“Oakfather preserve me,” Halsin breathes, pale under his tan, “it’s so much worse than I remember…”

“I’d almost choose Avernus over this place,” Karlach mutters, axe in hand. “Almost.”

“I think I’d join you in that choice,” Wyll says, brow furrowing as his good eye darts from desiccated bush to crumbled pile of rocks.

“Hm. Well. This is…” Gail trails off, and even the well-spoken wizard doesn’t seem to have the words to describe such a place. “Bad. This is very bad. Now, everyone gather round, please! Shadowheart, if you would assist.”

“...sure.”

Gale and Shadowheart attend to each person, casting their Light spells on an item that wouldn’t get easily lost.

The heat vents on Karlach’s shoulders now also blaze with blue light.

The beads woven into Lae’zel’s hair begin to glow.

Wyll’s bracers shine around his forearms.

The two rings on Astarion’s fingers shed light out of the gems in their settings.

Shadowheart’s circlet blooms bright, a halo of radiance around her head.

The crest of Sylvanus on Halsin’s chest lights up.

The book holstered at Gale’s side illuminates.

As for Sable, she can feel her friend’s magic sink into her earrings. She nods to him, her eyes still wide and terrified, and he gives her a gentle, understanding smile.

And with that, they have no more reason to linger. They start off into the cursed land.

With every step forward, the group feels more and more uneasy. Even the ground underfoot feels dead, producing the sound of crumbling, dry rock rather than dirt.

“It feels like we’re being watched,” Astarion suddenly murmurs, making Sable jump. “Hunted, even. Ugh, I hate this. I much prefer it when I’m the one prowling through the shadows, about to strike.”

“A little taste of your own medicine doesn’t hurt, Astarion,” Shadowheart says wryly.

“Until it does,” comes the vampire’s reply. “You’re sounding awfully chipper, considering the surroundings.”

“Yes. It’s…hard to explain. The darkness doesn’t feel the same to me as it does to you all, I think. It’s almost…welcoming.”

“After Ketheric Thorm converted, this area was mainly filled with Sharran worshipers,” Halsin says, his eyes darting over the landscape. “It makes sense that you would feel the way you do, I suppose.”

“Is that derision in your voice, druid?”

“Derision for anything that could turn nature, the very land, into this?” He motions around them, almost outright glaring at Shadowheart. “Yes. Such an entity has earned my ire a hundred-fold.”

“It’s too bad that ire is wasted. I doubt my Lady cares about one man’s quest for revenge.”

“I’m well aware that your Lady cares about nothing…save herself.”

“Quiet, all of you,” Lae’zel suddenly hisses. “There are lights up ahead!”

The group immediately halts; they’d just walked over a wooden, suspended bridge. To their left, the path goes up, onto a small hill that overlooks the right hand fork. The warm glow of torches approaches on the other side of the hill, out of place in this land.

Astarion, the stealthiest of the group, slips forward to scout. He presses himself against the trunk of a withered tree and peeks out from behind it.

Four figures approach their location. Two people carry torches, while the other two have crossbows out, loaded and nocked. The lead figure is a woman with thick, wavy hair, wearing what looks like a plain silver circlet. All four of them are well armored, their uniformity suggesting they’re part of the same organized group. “Stay together,” she says to her friends. “Keep to the light!”

Karlach shifts back on her heels, and a dead twig snaps underfoot. Astarion shoots her a glare, and she looks contrite, but it’s too late.

“Who’s there?! Show yourself!”

Astarion clicks his tongue, but straightens and holds up his hands, moving out from around the tree. Sable tenses, ready to spring out to defend her lover. “Easy now! We mean you no harm, so long as you don’t attack first.”

“We’ll have to see about that,” comes the reply as Astarion approaches.

But the blonde man holding a crossbow, aimed at Astarion, shifts too far from the glow of the torches. “Yonas! The light!” the leader hisses.

It’s too late. A piece of shadow forms behind the man, rearing up behind him and slashing down with claws made from pure darkness. Yonas cries out as he’s thrown to the ground, hitting his head on the rocky earth. With a last scream, he’s pulled out of sight, into the shadow-filled brush.

“YONAS!” the other female warrior screams as their small group rushes forward.

Sable’s group watches in horror as the man’s voice floats out, confused, only to be quickly struck down. It only takes another breathless moment, before Yonas comes shambling back over…but he’s changed. He’s obviously dead, his skin corrupted by blackened ichor, his eyes glowing a bright, sickly green.

“There you are,” he says, sounding like the words are breathed out of a decayed bellows. “Come…join me…”

“Harpers! To arms!”

The words had barely left the Harper woman’s mouth before six more shadows rise up among them.

And all hell breaks loose.

Karlach’s roar of rage echoes throughout the dead landscape as the living fight the shades. The clang of weapons provides harmony, and over it all Sable can year Gale, yelling as loud as he can: “THESE ARE CREATURES OF SHADOW! USE LIGHT AGAINST THEM!”

Shadowheart grimaces, but doesn’t hesitate. A ball of pure, radiant light forms in her hands, and she releases it into the middle of one of the shadow creatures. A thin wail escapes from the being, pained, mournful, before it bursts into motes of contrasting darkness and sparks of light.

Halsin growls deep in his throat, and his eyes glow as he raises one hand to the sky. Though the dark, menacing clouds don’t part, as the druid yanks his hand downward, a beam of pure moonlight shoots down from the heavens, enveloping and disintegrating one creature and taking the arm off another.

Sable, not having much in the way of offensive spells for this situation, instead rushes through the crowd of allies, bolstering and healing as needed. She learned a long time ago how to cast small spells through her feline form, so no one takes note of the little black cat with glowing ears gently tapping peoples’ shins. Healing flows through some, and for others she gifts them small boons to help in combat.

Astarion has made it to the top of that small hill, and he quickly realizes that his arrows, while they’re doing something, aren’t doing much. And so he works as more of a distraction than the lethal force he usually is; each arrow he fires draws attention from the shades and allows his companions to land hits easier.

And he’s certainly not following Sable's path, keeping the shades’ attention off his kitten as she flits from person to person.

The battle is over quickly. No one’s injured beyond cuts and superficial scrapes. Sable’s animal form shifts to normal, and she looks down curiously as the others approach. Left behind after the shades are dispatched are small orbs of darkness that shed a gentle, gray fog. She frowns as she squats down over the one at her feet, and she pokes it with the hilt of a dagger she keeps on her belt. When nothing happens, she sheathes it and reaches down.

“Kitten,” Astarion warns, “I don’t think that’s-”

The tip of her finger brushes the orb her nostrils flare with the scent of a freshly baked apple pie. She has to shush her little brother’s giggles, lest they give away their position under the sill, though she’s hard pressed to keep silent herself. She feels her lips stretch into a mischievous grin as she carefully reaches up and snags the pie. She runs, laughter in her lungs, her brother at her side, to find somewhere safe to eat their spoils-

She comes out of the vision with a cry, falling back onto her rear. She pats herself, the vision having felt so real that for a moment she was someone else entirely.

Astarion is at her side in a second, cupping her face, concern swimming in his crimson eyes. “Sable, what is it? What’s wrong? You froze up for a good ten seconds and then-”

“Wait, wait, wait…!” She turns and scrambles for another orb.

She watches in despair as her house smolders, falling to her knees as silent, disbelieving tears trek down her face. Her chest feels tight, oh, it aches so. She’d only been gone ten minutes, wanting some air after yet another spat with her mother. She hadn’t noticed the soldiers approaching her village until it was too late. As the shadows close in, her last thoughts are of regret, of how her final words to her mother had been those of anger, of hatred, instead of love.

She rips her hand away. Her face feels wet. She stares down at the orbs on the ground, her chest aching in the same way it had in that vision. “They…they were people,” she whispers, finally looking up at her vampire lover. “These used to be people who…who lived here.”

Halsin’s eyes close in pain, the guilt of centuries passing over his expression. Karlach curses under her breath and turns away, and Sable hears Wyll murmuring a soft prayer for their peace.

Astarion gathers her into his arms, letting her cry gently into his throat. He presses his lips to her hair, once more cursing the world that’s too cruel for his kitten.

The Harpers allow the moment of grief before approaching, and their leader nods to the smaller woman. “Our thanks, to you and your group. I am Lassandra, of the Harpers. This is Meygan, and Karrow.”

Wiping at her face as Astarion helps her to stand, feeling more like a child than the leader she’s supposed to be, she gives a nod back to the Harper. “Glad we could help,” Sable murmurs, and makes introductions. “Though…I can’t help but feel we got your friend killed.”

Lassandra shakes her head. “Yonas knew the risks out here. It was his own fault he didn’t stick close enough. He was a good man, but stupidity gets you killed in this land.”

“A very practical way of looking at things,” Shadowheart says, nodding.

“Practical, yes. A bit heartless, but practical,” Wyll murmurs.

The Harper woman scowls at him. “You want heart, head for sunnier climes. Here, it’s all about survival.” She looks back at Sable. “You’ve done us a good turn, so we’ll do the same for you. Come, we’re heading back to a safe place. Follow us.”

“A safe place?” the young druid asks. “How do you mean safe?”

“I mean, shielded from the curse.”

Halsin’s eyes widen. “Shielded? How is such a thing possible?”

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

Without another word, she starts off. Sable looks to her friends, meets Astarion’s eyes, and turns to follow the Harpers deeper into the dark.

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion x tav #my writing

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bootlegfrank · 27 days

Text

This a remake of something I posted on my old blog. On July 8th 2023 Bob tweeted;

Since the original image attached is quite long and pixelated, I transcribed it- exactly as he wrote it. He says that he regrets things he's said in the past, talks about where he is at now, and sends a message out to past friends. You can find the full message text underneath the cut. Warning for talk about suicide and internet hate.

[Tweet] bob bryar @/bobbryar: i really shouldn't post this but, as you know, i make some bad decisions. i think if you click it you should be able to read the whole thing. sorry it's kind of long. ❤️-bc

[Image] hi friends,

i'm going to go out on a super long limb and be the most honest i've ever been in my life. probably too honest. i was going to write something like this only to my close friends but i just decided fuck it, i'll write to everyone, whoever wants to read it can read it. i have nothing to hide. nothing to lose.

nobody knows i'm doing this and it's all me by myself. it will probably be a jumbled mess because i'm obviously feeling like shit, but i hope it will make sense. i have nothing that i'm trying to promote. i have nothing that i'm trying to sell, i'm just trying to get better, clear some things up, and keep going. i'm an extremely private person now so it makes no sense at all for me to do this, and it's way out of my comfort zone, but i'm tired of people dying. i will probably regret this but...... fuck it, way too many friends are now gone and i'm exhausted so here we go.

i've spent years hiding from everyone because i receive so much hate that i don't know how to deal with, and i know i probably deserve it. somehow, no matter how much i hide, i still get messages, phone calls, texts, and even letters in my mailbox. a lot of them are very nice and they make me smile, but most are pretty much telling me to die. some literally just say "DIE" and that's it. LOL. i really don't understand why anyone even cares or takes the time to find me but here we are.

i am way too old for this shit so i've put on a tough guy stone face and pretended like nothing ever bothered me. but when i'm alone i just sit and stare at the wall and think about how things went so wrong. how i had so many friends and now have so few, and now i lost the life that i really enjoyed and worked so hard for. honestly, i've become a pretty lonely and unhappy dude.

i feel very lucky and fortunate so i've worked extra hard to help people and animals that needed a hand without ever bragging or asking for anything in return. even after trying so hard to be the best person that i could possibly be i still feel like an extremely hated dude and i'm not really sure why. when i moved into my hole in the woods most people just forgot about me and didn't care, or never cared anyways, but the people that still come after me are too much to handle.

a while ago i made the decision to give away everything that i owned, give away all of my money, spend some time with the few friends that i had left, wipe my phone, stop talking or replying to everyone so they wouldn't care, and then end it. peace out. i even had the note, the rope (ratchet strap for moving the motorcycles) and location (my garage) ready to go. i felt like that was the only option for me. i felt like i had lived my life and it was time for me to go. i had lost my girl of 13 years that i really needed and relied on, lost all of my pets that were like my kids, had multiple friends die or just disappear, and lost every part of the music industry that i grew up in and lived 24/7. it seemed like everyone in that world magically disappeared when i wasn't getting them gigs, making them money, or getting them into events for free anymore. i had my wrist surgically rebuilt twice to be able to play instruments again but by the time my hand worked i was too old to start over, everything was gone, luckily for me, at the last moment i realized that wasn't the solution. i realized that i couldn't put my mom, my dogs, and the few friends i had left through something like that. i don't think anyone else would have cared to be honest.

i was in a really bad spot but i really didn't, and don't want to die. i was just an angry and lost dude. i lost all trust in people. i still only trust a couple people now and i'll probably be this way for the rest of my life. i also had no idea that i came off as such a jerk all the time. i never meant to. i only just realized it recently when i hit bottom and people got real with me. i really had no idea. other than my fake tough guy attitude i always thought i was a really good person that did good things for the world.

in the past i've made some dumb comments that were either admittedly wrong or were very misinterpreted. i've learned a lot since then and i'm sorry. i really am sorry. maybe i can have the opportunity to address those comments, or anything else, to clear the air and maybe feel happy again. maybe we can be friends again. maybe we can even help someone else that is feeling shitty or alone at the same time.

i'm now mentally healthy (still physically a potato), humbled, and ready to move forward. i want to reconnect with friends, catch up with the rest of the world that i avoided for so long, and remember the experiences (good and bad) that i've blocked out. it's super weird for me at this point but i want to talk more. maybe something on an app. i don't know what everyone uses now. remember, it's been a while and i'm an old man now. i've never gone on a live camera app to talk so i'm not sure which one is the best or how to use any of them. i messed around with instagram the other day when i was trying to play a game and i think i got it figured out for the most part. i dont especially want to be seen because i'm a fat old man now, and i hate being on camera, but i think it's the best way to be real. i have the username "bobbryar" on every app that i'm aware of except instagram. the instagram username is "bcbryar" because someone took my name for some reason. btw, i'd like to have that back if anyone knows how.

i'm probably opening the door for a refueled barrage of embarrassment, but this is my last try to make things fun and live a happy life again. so fuck it again. if this turns out horribly i will just go back to my hole and not try again. i promise.

i know most of you are thinking 'waaah, fuck you, i don't care, nobody likes you anymore, you're old, just go away, etc'. i've heard it all and i understand. but for the people who want to talk, let's do it and hopefully be friends again. i've been thinking about this for a while now.

maybe this is dumb. probably. i don't know. but if you are down i will hang out as long as you want. if it goes well maybe we can talk more often. maybe it might be fun. it's definitely time to have some motherfucking fun again.

i already know that i'm going to get super extra roasted for writing this but oh well. don't care.

anyways... let me know if you are down. i'd really like to have my friends back in my life again. i really miss my friends a lot.

i'm heading back over to the DCI competition now and i'm late. i miss that a lot too. maybe i'll see you there, come hang out and have some fun.

i hope to talk very soon.

❤️ -bc.

[Reply to the tweet] bob bryar @/bobbryar: you can save it as a picture and then see the whole thing. thanks for the help jordan. 🙂

#i watched one of his live streams on instagram- he played fortnite with pink floyd's the dark side of the moon playing in the background #idk ive been wanting to have this on my blog again for a while and since im in my bob feelings here we go #im not commenting on the value of his words here in this post. just sharing it #bob bryar #mcr #twitter

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666writingcafe · 9 months

Text

Belphegor

Content Warning: one suicidal thought at the very end

Author's Note: Initially, I planned on this being smut, but the more I got to thinking about it, the more it didn't seem right given how I had written the relationship between MC and Belphie up until this point. So, for the most part, this is SFW.

Stupid Mammon. He didn't read the label on the bottle before dumping it in the soup.

Then again, I've had similar moments where I don't pay attention to what I'm doing and end up fucking up, so I really shouldn't judge my brother that harshly.

Or maybe I should. I at least have the excuse of my sin. What does he have?

Currently, I'm in my bed up in the attic. Other than Beel, everyone else is too spooked to go up here, so I should be able to hide for a few hours. Of course, I don't know what I can do to help me feel better. If I recall correctly, the aphrodisiac is too powerful for me to overcome by myself, so my only option is to reach out for assistance.

Except the one person that could help me is completely out of the question.

Loud knocking interrupts my thoughts.

"Belphie!" Great. It's MC. I should have known they would find me.

"Go away," I tell them.

"You know I can't do that."

"I wish you would." The words come out a bit harsher than I intended. "I feel like I'm going to start acting crazy if I'm around you right now. I'm worried I might lose my head."

"So, you're planning to hole yourself up in there again?" I see how it is.

"It's not like I had a choice the first time." I hear MC sigh.

"Listen, if you don't feel like letting me in, that's fine, but at the very least allow me to talk to you."

"Fine." The power of the pact forces me to get up and sit in front of the door. Through the holes on the door, I watch MC situate themselves on the floor so that they're looking directly at me.

"I hope you understand why I'm hesitant to let you in," I tell them. MC nods their head.

"I appreciate you respecting what I told you the last time we were together. There are plenty of people up in the human world that don't."

"Is that coming from personal experience?"

"Thankfully, no. It's just one of those things that has unfortunately become a normal part of society."

"Fuck society." MC snorts in amusement. "That's truly messed up."

"And this is coming from the demon that possessed me without my consent."

"That's kinda the point of possession, MC. I mean, have you ever heard a demon ask a human if they can come inside?"

"Yes." The look on their face suggests that their mind went in the gutter.

"I'm not talking about that kind of coming, and you know it."

"I know. I just want to mess with you." They pause. "The truth is, I've come to miss you."

"You have?" I figured they would have missed the others, but me? It's not like MC and I were on bad terms when they left the last time, but they told me themselves that they still had some negative feelings towards me from our initial meeting.

"Sometimes, when I couldn't sleep at night, I thought about you. I wished you were there by my side to soothe me. There were times that I dreamt that we were in the planetarium, looking up at the stars and holding each other close." I feel honored, especially because they dreamt that without any interference on my part.

"Would you want to do that?" I feel more in control of my body, enough so that I feel like I could be in close proximity to MC without crossing any boundaries.

"Like, right now?"

"Yeah. You're here, I'm here, it's here."

"Are you going to be okay?"

"I think so. I don't feel quite as crazy."

۞۞۞

"You stink." MC and I managed to sneak in the planetarium without anyone interrupting us, and now we're currently stretched out on the couch. My back is on an armrest, and MC's snuggled up to me with their head resting on my chest.

"When you say that, is it a normal stink or a magical stink?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well, I know that demons have a strong sense of smell than humans and that they can pick up on other demons' scent. So, I don't know if that's what you're picking up on, or if you're smelling dirt and sweat on me." I'm surprised they remembered that. It has been a couple of years, after all.

"It's Satan and Beel."

"Please don't be upset. They ate the soup, too."

"I know. It's just that their scents don't mix well together. Satan's earthy, while Beel oddly smells like cheese."

"What do you smell like?"

"To other demons?" They nod. To be honest, I've not spent much time thinking about my scent.

"Beel says I smell like rain." MC breathes in loudly, trying to sniff me.

"You smell comfortable."

"Thanks?" MC smiles.

"It's soothing." We sit in silence for a bit, and I begin stroking their head. The motion seems to put MC to sleep, for their breathing slows down. Looking down, I see that their eyes are closed. They look peaceful.

I know I shouldn't let them doze for long. MC has to help the others, after all. So, I reach over to the nearby side table, grab my D.D.D., and set a 30 minute alarm.

Around the ten minute mark, I sense a shift in energy. The air feels heavier somehow. I close my eyes and focus in order to figure out where the shift is coming from. I'm a bit rusty, so it takes a few minutes before I can properly see.

And then it hits me, and the sentence that lights up in my mind makes me want to puke.

In MC's handwriting, four simple words: I have to die.

#obey me shall we date #obey me mc #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie #quick headcanon: belphie has the ability to read minds #he can only do it when the other person is asleep #the reason why he is rusty is because he hasn't felt the need to do that in a very long time #after all he pretty much knows what his brothers are thinking just by observing their actions and body language #the shift in energy that belphie picks up on is from mc #this has him concerned since they seemed content before #if it weren't for the possession it would have taken him much longer for him to pick up on what mc was thinking in that moment #and then once he sees that sentence in his mind he gets very uneasy #because what in the world happened since their last meeting that has mc feeling this way?#after this moment belphie starts paying close attention to mc to make sure that they don't hurt themselves

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borderlinereminders · 1 year

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Can I ask you a question? My therapist tried to reassure me that things tend to get better for ppl with BPD when they are in their 30s, but I'm 19 right now and it feels horrible, and that is so far away to hurt so much, how did you manage to get through it? I'm trying so hard and it feels like everything sucks anyways, especially because I'm physically disabled too :(

I didn't have some major break through, or life changing thought process that fixed things for me.

I held on to little things until I was ready to try and recover.

It was little things like when I'd have suicidal thoughts, I'd tell myself things like "my dog won't understand why I don't come home". I'd remind myself of the new season of my show I wanted to see. I'd find little things to look forward to.

Overall, I'd tell myself "you can kill yourself any time. It doesn't have to be now. Why not stick it out and reassess later? What is there to lose by trying?" People have definitely expressed a dislike for that train of though of mine but it worked for me.

I also want to say that while a lot of people experience things getting better in their 30's, that isn't always the case. Maybe she was trying to reassure you that it wouldn't always feel this way and not set you up for unrealistic expectations. But I can understand why it feels discouraging and I think she should have approached that better with you.

For me, things started getting better a lot sooner. I started managing my symptoms bit by bit. Things like finding skills for working on my harmful urges (these usually led to my friendships failing which just added to my hurt at the time) or finding ways to self soothe and cope made it all suck a little less in the moment. I focused on the good. A lack of emotional permanence can make that hard because when it feels bad it feels like everything is bad. But I'd focus on little things like "oh, a book I'm excited for is coming out" or "I can't wait to go cuddle my dog". I intentionally had to walk myself through and do these things, but I realized at some point that they come more naturally to me now.

I didn't focus on a big goal. I just focused on working on little things and over time I realized that I was doing so much better. I think one important thing to remember is it doesn't happen overnight. And I don't say this to be discouraging but to be encouraging. What I mean by this is you aren't just magically better one day. It's a gradual thing and isn't always linear. This means that it likely won't hurt to this intensity the entire time you're trying to get through things. ( I noticed at some point that while I still had bad days, they were usually less severe and less frequent). And maybe it'll feel more manageable a lot earlier than you expect.

#sorry #this is all over the place #april answers #tw suicide #also just letting you all know #this isn't at this anon specifically #that i do have an advice blog #it's pinned in my pinned post #and it's where i prefer to get asks

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everlarkism · 2 years

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how about a prompt where katniss does not begin to care for herself again after peeta returns to 12 at the end of mockingjay and after a few days he is desperate to help her so he takes her upstairs and gives her a bath? make as intimate or not as u plez

I am so happy a lot of you are sending them in. Other prompts will be posted when I have the time to write and upload them. Don’t worry, I didn’t forget about anyone’s! I’ve decided to try first person with this. I don’t do that often. Excuse any typos or if this is all over the place, I started typing this up at like 5AM since I was so excited to write something wholesome. It’s kind of rushed too, so it’s not my best work. Enjoy!

I know he doesn’t like seeing me like this. He never liked seeing me upset, period. But I’m not upset, I’m depressed and he obviously knows it.

Returning to Twelve was a blessing and a curse. It’s a relief that I came back to the place I call home, but it’ll never be the same. The Victors Village was still intact, but everything else had to be built again. My childhood home is demolished. Primrose is dead. Mom moved to another district, so did Gale. Haymitch was here and so was Greasy Sae who would frequently check up on me before Peeta’s arrival. That woman would even drag her young granddaughter along… I’m aware Sae wanted to help, but I don’t like feeling as if I’m a burden to anyone.

I’m a fighter, I’ve been doing this for years. Why should I let anyone help me now? I can do this all by—

“Katniss.”

I’m quiet as I sit on the couch, running my fingertips against the cushion to ease my nervousness. I’ve been avoiding eye contact with Peeta from the moment he walked inside. It’s been around two weeks since he came back from the Capitol, and I’m surprised he’s not like me.

Distant. Suicidal. Neglecting basic needs. Hasn't stepped foot outside in days.

Maybe it’s the therapy, Haymitch told me about it a day or two after he arrived. But that doesn’t mean he’s magically cured, or whatever. Peeta’s bound to have his episodes, regardless of how much treatments he’s had. At least they’ll be manageable. I know I should be doing therapy but I’ve been avoiding Dr. Aurelius at all costs.

“Katniss…” Peeta calls out again.

A heavy sigh escapes my lips as I lift my head. He didn't need my reply to continue talking, all he wanted me to do was look at him.

“You can’t stay in the house forever.” He said, taking a step closer and gesturing to the couch,”You don’t move from that spot either. Come on, you have to do something.”

I furrowed my eyebrows and shook my head,”No, I don't. I’m fine with what I’m doing.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s healthy… We can start small, okay?”

“We?” I repeat.

“Yes, we’re doing this together.” He nods,”Because-”

I cut him off, deciding to finish the sentence,“That’s what you and I do. Protect each other.”

A smile can’t help but to form on my face. He remembered.

“And that’s what we’ll continue doing.” He replied, making his way over to the couch and sitting beside me. His hand reaches over and rests on top of mine. “I care about you, Katniss and I want to be here for you in any way that I can… If you let me.”

Silence lingers between us for a few moments, until I finally make up my mind. I can’t push him away, we both know that - he would continue to try and help me anyways. “Okay, I’ll allow it.”

He leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead. “I’ll run you a bath, go eat something if you haven’t already.” Without another word, Peeta stood and walked upstairs to the bathroom.

There was already an urge to say something, to forget the whole idea and tell him I could run my own bath if I needed to… But we both know I wouldn’t. If he didn’t show up, I’d still be on this sofa, reeking of body odor and starving.

I sigh, pushing myself up from the couch and making my way into the kitchen. Buttercup was there, munching at the food in the metal bowl. Once the cat noticed my presence, he meowed.

“Yeah, I know. I have to eat too.” I roll my eyes. Cats can’t talk, obviously - but I swear Buttercup knows what goes on and scolds me.

I walk to the cabinets and decide on making a sandwich. It’s better than nothing. I slather peanut butter and jelly onto the two slices of bread then sit down to eat.

I took my time with eating, since it takes the tub a while to fill up. After I’m done, I head upstairs and as I’m making my way down the hall - the water is being shut off.

I lean in the doorway with my arms crossed over my chest, watching Peeta stand from the crouching position. He’s a bit awkward at times, but it isn't his fault. The prosthetic leg tends to make things more difficult. Over the years, he’s been better with it. When he turned around, he gasped and took a step backwards. I couldn’t help but to chuckle, I didn't mean to scare him.

“Sorry.” I mumble.

“It’s okay. I was going to come get you, but you’re here now.” He lets out a small laugh.

“Thank you, by the way.” I reply as I move past him. I looked over to the bathtub, and not only was it filled with water but there were bubbles too. “Seriously, bubbles?”

Peeta shrugs,”What? It might cheer you up a little.”

He was right. Peeta always knew what to do or say so I could feel better.

I remain silent and stare at the bathtub. I was drained as it is, even making a sandwich was hard enough. I bit the inside of my cheek before refocusing my gaze onto the blond boy. “Could you help me? Unless, that’s weird– I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, or anything.”

I blurted out the last sentence, since I was on edge. I didn’t want to make this weird for either of us.

“I promise, it’s not.” He shakes his head,”I don’t mind.”

He continued to reassure me as he helped me undress. Once the last piece of clothing comes off, I quickly get into the tub as Peeta looks away. I caught a glimpse of his face and it’s obvious that he’s blushing. To be fair, we were both nervous… I’ve only seen his body once, in the first Games by the river. That was it. Him, on the other hand, hasn’t seen my body at all.

I just wish he didn’t have to see my body like this - the scars, the skin grafts, the damage done after all of these years. I look more like a mutt than a human being. Hell, I look worse than him. However, that’s another thing we have in common now: Earning scars that will tell a story of how we got here.

The water was warm, it even smelled of lavender. He must’ve found the oils in the cabinet. I never bothered with messing with those. Luckily they’re being put to use now. Slowly, I leaned back and sunk down into the water until it was to my collarbone. My eyes flutter shut as I dwell in the moment. “This is nice.” I whisper.

When I sit up, that’s when Peeta rolls up his sleeves and kneels near the tub to reach for the shampoo bottle. He put a small amount into his hand and began to run his fingers through my long locks. My hair isn’t in the best condition, thankfully not matted as it used to be but it still has some bad knots. He’s gentle, taking his time with applying the shampoo and rinsing it out. I swear Peeta even hums a tune while doing so. A giggle escaped from me and he paused.

“What?” He furrowed his brows.

I shake my head with a grin,”Nothing.”

Next was the conditioner and as it sat in my hair, we moved onto bathing. He already has the cloth, so I hand him the bar of soap.

“I feel like a child… Maybe, I should’ve done this myself.” I admit with a laugh as he starts to clean my face and behind my ears.

“There's nothing wrong with asking for help.” He chuckled,”I don’t mind, Katniss.”

“But Peeta, I just feel like-”

He replies before I could even finish my sentence. “No, you’re not a burden. This isn’t a chore to me, either. I want to be here for you.” Using his free hand, he manages to pick up a small amount of bubbles and place it on my nose,”Even if it means giving you a bath.”

“Hey!” I exclaim, wiping them off with a smile.

“That’s what you get.” He teased me.

“Don’t make me splash you.”

“You wouldn’t.” He rolls his eyes playfully.

“Oh, but I would!” I pretend to get ready to splash Peeta and he leans back instantly. I can’t help but burst out in laughter. “You should’ve seen your face.”

He laughs along with me,”I seriously thought you were going to do it.”

After the little trick I pulled, he continued to bathe me with the washcloth. Every once and a while, I’d threaten to splash him again or pull him into the tub with me. Peeta got his so-called payback by splashing me instead… As if I'm already not covered in water.

When our antics come to an end, Peeta rinses my hair and I step out of the tub, soon wrapped in a towel he brought me.

“You reek of lavender.”

“Better than body odor.” I giggle.

“Yeah, you’re right.” Peeta chuckles. “Now, let’s go get you dressed, shall we? Maybe I could try braiding your hair?”

“You, braiding my hair? In your dreams.”

“Fine, but one day - you’ll have to teach me… Deal?”

“Deal.”

#katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #everlark #katniss and peeta #everlark fanfiction #everlark fic #thg drabble #oneshot #ficlet #post mockingjay

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linkemon · 8 months

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Musical AU headcanons 1

Friendly reminder that English is not my first languge. You can check my Masterlists both in English and Polish here.

Warning! Musical AUs do not completely follow the plot of the originals. They are adjusted enough to make the characters more canonical.

The Greatest Showman ✧ Yun Jin

✧ Yun Jin owed a lot to her parents. Especially her passion for music. When financial problems appeared in her family, she decided to take out a loan and open her own traveling circus. No one found out that her pledge was a cargo of her parents' trading ships from Liyue that had actually sunk.

✧ Her opera performances were not enough, so she started to gather a troupe of people desperate to make money like her. Albedo with her magic tricks, Sayu balancing on a tightrope, Itto and his great strength, Nilou with her dancing and Beidou who, as a former captain, managed them all. Together, they were a strange yet wonderful team that people wanted to see.

✧ To climb to the top of her career, Yun Jin paid a visit to a rich woman named Ningguang. The lady wasn't convinced at first. However, when she met the captain Beidou, she changed her mind. After negotiations, she decided to push some gold in their direction for further development.

✧ However, the more attention a troupe attracted, the more stigmatized it was. An emotionless boy, a dwarf girl, a dangerous giant, a dancer from a distant country and a former pirate. The group couldn't stand it and raised a protest to the people when Yun Jin was away. In retaliation, everything she worked for was burned.

✧ Currently, the girl is sitting at Xiangling's restaurant, wondering what to do next. She must have made a mistake getting used to the luxuries Ningguang gave her and forgot about her friends.

Heathers ✧ Childe

✧ Childe has been attending Teyvat High School for as long as he can remember. He was considered a quiet and calm boy. Until the day when he accidentally met Il Capitano in one of the parking lots and everything began to change.

✧ When he accidentally got into a fight with opponents of the Harbinger gang, it turned out that he is not as bland as he was called. Il Capitano personally offered him to join them on a trial basis. La Signora did not mind but Scaramouche did. However, his voice turned out insignificant.

✧ It didn't take long for Zhongli to realize that something was wrong with his friend. It worried him how he started faking hall passes for his new bunch of friends. He had access to them because the teachers gave him the role of running the club. Zhongli tried to talk to him but it didn't help much.

✧ The Harbingers have always cared about their image. It was impossible to miss them because they wore stylized jackets. The day Childe got his, the three of them gave him a new nickname. He was to be Tartaglia from now on.

✧ They gave him his first task. It was Scaramouche who invented it and the boy felt it would be more difficult than it should be. However, it turned out to be simple, but cruel and testing loyalty.

✧ Tartaglia is tasked with introducing Osial, an old friend of Zhongli, to high school. Ever since the fight, Zhongli had avoided Osial like the plague. The attacker was banned from approaching and entering the school grounds. What should he do now? Stick with the new group or go back to the way it was?

Dear Evan Hansen ✧ Chongyun

✧ Chongyun was never interested in Xingqiu's life. The boy had pushed him once by accident in the hallway and that was it. When a few days later he came to sign his cast as an apology and read his letter, fresh from the printer, which was a form of therapy, he was furious. How was Chongyun supposed to know that the dark-haired one was the author of the book he was reading? Xingqiu immediately stated that he must have been following him and would now tell everyone.

✧ Shortly after, Chongyun was summoned to Principal Keqing's office. It turned out that Xingqiu had committed suicide and a letter was found on him. He couldn't explain that they didn't know each other at all. He lied that they were friends. It turned out to be a big mistake.

✧ The Xingqiu's family wanted to meet him. Rich people who run one of the department stores invited him to their place.

✧ After that, he was regularly invited to dinners and gatherings. He wondered how he could get out of this situation but he only made it worse. He even wrote a whole series of e-mails to prove to his family that Xingqiu and him really were buddies.

✧ Everything was stable until his aunt Shenhe got annoyed at how often he was away. It was true that he much preferred spending time away. And, although parents of Xingqiu considered him close, it was a huge lie.

✧ Now, Xingqiu's parents offered to pay for the expensive exorcist training that Chongyun always wanted. Shenhe told him to refuse. He doesn't know what to do.

#genshin x reader #yun jin x reader #chongyun x reader #childe x reader #musical au #the greatest showman #heathers #dear evan hansen #over teyvat #headcanons

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mlobsters · 6 months

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supernatural s11e7 plush (w. eric charmelo, nicole snyder)

not the most promising start. offbrand donnie darko bunny

DEAN Really? I mean, really? SAM You ever hear of privacy? DEAN Hey, you want privacy, close your door.

as ever, privacy being invaded really hurts my heart. absolutely dean has a point and sam should have closed his door, but dean also had a shitty fucking smirk on his face and that nasty tone and i'm ready to punch him. i don't pray, i've never believed in anything, and i'm horribly hurt and offended that he'd act like this. i know their history and the dumb plot shit makes prayer not the same thing as it is out here in the real world, but come fucking on. he's still being a raging asshole about sam taking the chance on believing even just a tiny bit that it's god behind the visions.

DEAN Thought we talked about this. SAM Yeah, we did, Dean. But why is it so hard to believe that God could be sending me visions about the darkness? DEAN You kidding me? He didn't feel the need to show up for the Apocalypse. Why would he give a crap now? SAM I don't know. Maybe because she's his sister? What do you wanna do? Sit back? Ignore him? Do nothing? DEAN No, that's -- that's not what I'm saying. I'm saying, don't count on God. Okay? Count on us.

count on us (so when you gonna tell sam your secret huh DEAN-O)

glad they let donna wear a uniform that vaguely fits and maybe dropping the fat jokes. maybe. (of course not)

BROCK Not much, man. I mean, I was just hammering my bi's, gettin' all swole,

please no and thank you

s11e7 rita / true colors (1990-1992) brigid brannagh as katie davis

whoa okay so i definitely know this person and i think... it's from.... true colors?? which is yet another tv show i haven't thought about since the early 90s. wild

surely couldn't let sam's clown phobia not make an appearance in a killer ghost possessed child entertainer costume episode. was it purely so they could subject sam to a clown :p it's never gonna beat this post-clown interaction though

7x14 plucky pennywhistle's magical menagerie

dean heartily laughing and sam with his arms outstretched absolutely coated in glitter (i wanna paint it some day, so sparkly) will make me smile every time

also, i love this line

from 2x02 DEAN Planes crash! SAM And apparently clowns kill!

okay anyway. rehashing the good clown phobia moments :P (he did say the clown fight in 7x14 was therapeutic, guess he needs more exposure therapy [beating])

taking another moment to appreciate how much better his hair looks this season, especially post-scuffle

she is so very cute

DONNA I don't have time for insubordination. SAM Or is it maybe that you're treating new Doug like old Doug and not even giving him a chance? DONNA You know what I think? You need to mind your own beeswax. We have a case to solve.

saw her line comin a mile away

outsiders with sibling issues are evergreen

*staring into camera*

crack treated seriously vibes

SAM I keep praying to God because if it is God -- and I know you think it isn't, but if it is -- then he's showing me something I don't know what to do with. DEAN What? SAM The cage. DEAN Lucifer's cage? SAM Yeah. What if he's telling me I have to go back? What if he's saying that's where the answer is to beating the Darkness? DEAN Sam, no. No, okay. I don't know if these visions are coming from God or PBS or what. But we've been down that road. Anything having to do with that cage is -- it -- it's suicide. And you of all people know that. So, no. Just…Not gonna happen. SAM Okay. DEAN Okay.

actually okay? they both have a habit of agreeing and doing whatever the fuck they were gonna do anyway. i mean if dean isn't gonna come clean then whatever anyway. bitterness rising again

#supernatural #spnwatch #spn 11x07 #hiky #spnhiky #true colors tv show #brigid brannagh #spn and no privacy #eric charmelo #nicole snyder

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gainesha · 22 days

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BSG rewatch notes, cont'd:

and here it is, the New Caprica arc. which is, and this might be one of the least heretic things to say about BSG, the pinnacle. there are individual episodes, and even small arcs, that I might adore more (we will see how I'll react to them during this rewatch, but Maelstrom, Sometimes a Great Notion, the Mutiny two-parter would all be in my top 10 episodes), but this 7 episodes, from Lay Down Your Burdens up until Collaborators, are unrivaled as a storytelling high point for the show. the surprise element is gone now, obviously, but I still remember the goosebumps I got during the initial airing when the time jump happened, and how I could barely breath for the remainder of that season finale because I was just so exhilarated and electrified by what is happening on screen. that, yes, they *did* settle down, things *did* change permanently - up until they didn't, of course. but these kinds of twists are so much richer than just killing a main character.

and this is just one thing... there are so many more. like the montage at the beginning of Lay Down Your Burdens Part 1., with Bear's Something Dark is Coming music cue, and Athena saying it out loud should be the most cliched thing, but it's instead truly harrowing and haunting even if you don't know what's going to happen to all these people soon. meanwhile, Laura giggling uncontrollably on the way to the debate - the way the writers and the actors are comfortable inside these characters are paying dividends. then the murk of the occupation, the suicide bombings, the show being dark without grimdark (even if I would have wanted to spend more time in this setting, 4 episodes were a great choice, and even if some little developments here and there would have benefited maybe from more screen time, New Caprica never feels as rushed as the Pegasus arc), poor Gatea, the Galactica dropping down, Hot Dog saying "well, this should be different" before flying out... and, of course, Saul saying "not all of them", and then slowly walking away, the heartbreak, my gods.

and yet, Unfinished Business was always my "I would die on this hill" fave episode. it's the one episode I've rewatched most - both versions. I love the flashbacks to a sweeter, more hopeful time on New Caprica, even if some characters have never believed it would truly last. I watched the Extended version now, and I have somewhat conflicted thoughts, because I was thinking which version would I show someone who has not seen the show before, and the Extended version has several brilliant new scenes or crucial longer segments playing out on New Caprica. we need all of Adama and Roslin getting high, Laura's monologue about living in the moment; we need the morning after with Kara and Tigh; we definitely need Dee and Lee in the Raptor; and also, Lee confessing how much she needs Kara. but also, the flow of the originally aired episode are lightyears better, the editing rhythm of the intercutting scenes is magic, and it is gone in the Extended - moreover, the rhythm is all off. and this episode has to be a Dance in itself. (so I would probably show the aired one, and afterwards these 4-5 scenes separately)

the reveal of the reason behind the animosity between Kara and Lee, and why Lee behaves so antagonistically towards here after the time jump, why their dynamics feel so strange, plays out fantastically. the writers manage it so well, especially in contrast with the reveals in Hero, which...

okay, so Hero is bullshit, and I continue to just ignore the retcon of it all. I would be fine with the Admirality being compromised (that checks out), but Adama being the one who "started it all" (even if Roslin dismisses the thought), even just the fact that it was him on that covert mission, because, you know, he is the lead of the show, is a teeny tiny bit Forrest Gump... too much, too neat, and I get that they tried to take the Adama idol and dirty it up, but he has already been humanized and shaded quite a bit during the first 2 seasons, and I don't really know what this adds to the character or the whole main Human-Cylon conflict either that haven't been already said and explored in different, more fruitful ways. it's a shame, because all the regular actors bring their A-game here, Hogan, Olmos, McDonnell all shine.

I adore Tigh and Starbuck getting close

Jamie Bamber is so good conveying how utterly in love Lee is

Richard Hatch is so good

you could paint a mural with all the reaction shots from the boxing matches, inside and around the ring, I love everybody just grinning or glaring or just being cocky as shit

#bsg #bsg 2003 #battlestar galactica #rewatch

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twdmusicboxmystery · 9 months

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8-Ball Symbolism and Daryl's Characterization

@galadrieljones

I was rewatching the fight scene from Still last night to try and grab some drawing references and I was reminded of Daryl’s pool references (left corner, eightball). Other than Spencer and Negan in season 7, are there any other pool references in the series you can remember off the top of your head?

@wdway

Nothing immediately has come to mind other than what you mentioned regarding pool. I'll keep it in the back of my mind in case something pops up. Refresh my memory would you, when in Still does Daryl say, left corner, eightball? In the game of pool isn't the 8 ball the last ball that goes in, it ends the game. If it goes in accidentally during the game then that's the game, it's ended. I'm just thinking that Beth was shot in episode 8, her game was ended and in many ways so had Daryl's. And if Daryl actually said left corner, well you know me, I'm always talking about left=Beth.

@galadrieljones

I think he says “Top Left, eight ball.” I’m pretty sure but I should go back and check. I know it was left, just not sure if it’s left corner or top left or too left corner.

And yeah sinking the eight ball ends the game.

Magic eight balls are also a thing, like telling the future

@twdmusicboxmystery

I remember doing a post forever ago about 8 ball symbolism. I believe Eugene makes an 8 ball reference in 6x01. It’s one of the black and white flashbacks and he’s talking about Operation Lead the Walkers Away, but I don’t remember his exact wording

Found it:

Eugene: “It’d help disperse the force of impact and direct the walkers clean. Like a pool table. Eight ball, corner pocket.”

@galadrieljones

Thanks, @twdmusicboxmystery, I’m gonna check this out asap!!

@wdway

Thanks for the link to your post on Eugene's 8 Ball reference. I always enjoy re-reading your posts. I also read bethgreeneprevails post that you gave a link to. I know you guys will be shocked at this, but I fell into a rabbit hole while reading her side tunnel rant about Beth's and Carol's conversation about Daryl in s3e9 The Suicide King. Over the years we've discussed this conversation between Carol and Beth many, many times. The general thought among TD'er is that it indicates that Beth might have had a crush on Daryl. I'm not saying anything new here.

What I want to talk about is that this time in reviewing the conversation it gave me major Deja Vu feelings about the conversation between Leah and Daryl in Find Me. In TSK Beth is upset at Daryl for choosing his brother over her/them/TF. In the next episode, s3e8 Home, Daryl realizes that he had made a mistake in going off with Merle and in the end, he realizes that he needs to go home, back to where he belongs, back to TF.

This is roughly what happened in Find Me. Leah is upset because Daryl is going to leave her and go search for his brother, she wants him to stay with her, she tells him he belongs with her. He leaves. At the end of the episode, he's rethinking what he has done, and he returns to the cabin, but she's just gone.

In Home, he returns to where he belongs with the people he belongs with. In Find Me, he returns but the person that he believes he should be with is gone. Is this a foreshadowing of him returning to the person who he truly belongs with, and that person will be there when he finds her, or she finds him? Is this what I call back shadowing, to remind us of where he does belong. The other thing about these two episodes from s3, TSK and Home, is that Rick is having hallucinations about Lori. He was seeing Lori, but he didn't see the true Lori, what he saw was a made-up version of Lori dressed in white. It wasn’t true to who Lori really was. We could say the same thing about Daryl not seeing Leah for who she really was.

@galadrieljones

Okay great catch on the parallels with TSK/Home and Find Me. I love that!

@wdway

The other thing that ties this all together with Beth is that this is the first episode that we see the same license tag number on the white and black jeep with the pink, yes, I'm Sirius, I said pink, dog carrier, strap to the top of the vehicle. The same license tag number that we saw on the black car, white cross that took Beth in Alone.

@galadrieljones

Also I read both posts as well and found them really interesting. The red cue ball being #3 was very interesting. I was also interested in the inverse red stripe cue ball being #11. I really love your analysis of the 8ball as being “endgame,” and all the 8s around Beth at Grady.

The ouroboros is also often depicted as an 8 in the series—re: Alpha’s belt buckle and the symbol on Teddy’s box—indicating the mantra “The end is the beginning” which is a thematic parallel to the notion of a coda. We see the ouroboros in the episode of Fear which revolves around John Dorie Sr. being unable to rest until he finds the body of a dead girl from many years ago which turns out to be essentially hidden in the walls.

When Daryl calls the 8ball in Still, he misses. He’s drunk and screwing around but still. Beth then immediately goes and kills the walker. Daryl is bummed out because “we was having fun,” and Beth calls him a jackass who’s running from his feelings and this is how the fight takes off. Because killing them isn’t supposed to be fun. If you call the 8ball, you better sink it. Idk what I’m saying other than that Daryl, despite calling the endgame, can’t finish the game by himself. Beth finishes it for him because he is for whatever reason blinded.

@wdway

The car was on the Yellow Jacket Creek Bridge.

@galadrieljones

So this is the first time we see it?

@wdway:

Yes, that is the first time we see that tag. On the Jeep with the pink dog/Sirius carrier. We saw the tag number in s3e10 Home, s4e13 Alone, s4e15 Us, s5e5 Self-Help (white school bus) and s5e7 Crossed.

In the post by Bethgreeneprevails she talks a lot about the numbers 8 and 3. She then gave a link to other people's thoughts on the 8 ball and the number 3. One of them, I can't remember which had talked about how they hoped that it was foreshadowing that Daryl and Beth would be reunited in s8e3. We know that didn't happen. I'm because I'm so excited to tell you about s8e3, I think you guys are going to love this I know I did. S8e2 Mercy and S8e3 Monsters were both written by Matthew Negrete and Channing Powell. At the end of the episode Mercy, we saw in the background the same painting with Rick in the frame as seen in the episode Still. We also saw a character that had gone missing/left in s1 return. He was also in a scene at the beginning of e3, just before Daryl killed him. By the way guess who wrote s7e8 Hearts Still Beating, that's right, Matthew Negrete and Channing Powell. The same writers that wrote Inmates and Slabtown. I'm sure it's all a coincidence and not related in any way. Not.

@galadrieljones

I remember the 8.3 revelation for sure, mostly via frangi and the painting with the cranes and how they communicate with the one/one t-shirt that Noah wore. To me that is a lot of intricate connection that cannot be coincidence alone. I love that Powell wrote Hearts Still Beating. She wrote it also with our guy Matthew Negrete. I actually love that episode even tho it’s a horrible turn for Daryl. It just seems like it’s embedded with a lot of important global imagery. We see the chess pieces and references that tie Dwight to the crusades and the Seventh Seal, a reference that comes back in Alaska when he is stricken with bubonic plague (and finds his true love). The peanut butter, too. Hearts still beating reminds me of Carol telling Daryl in Them “You’re not dead.” It also reminds me of Beth telling Daryl that he has to let it go “or it kills you…here” and touches her hand to her heart.

@twdmusicboxmystery

Wow! This is so great! I knew if I sent you guys that link, you'd find new stuff! I've been so tired the past few days (work has been crazy) my brain just hasn't been firing on all cylinders.

I had never thought to connect the events of Home (my fav episode of S3) to Find Me. That's genius. And it just goes to show that we're right about the writers revisitng earlier story lines and making them new and continuous for the characters. Gimple WAS working on the show in S3, but as mostly a junior writer, still. Even though I'm sure the show runner had some idea where he THOUGHT he was going with things, he was ultimately fired for cutting back and forth, killing off characters for no reason other than shock value, and basically giving everyone whip lash.

And it's interesting, because it just feels like fate. Merle was supposed to survive S3, originally. He was Daryl's brother. That's why they did this storyline. The actors, the network, and even the fans were way disappointed when he died, because he was just starting to finally get his redemption, and people were loving his character by that point. Both for himself, and for Daryl, I'm sure. But with Merle gone, they made the very conscious choice to make Rick "his brother" in S4. Ever since then, every time we see Daryl searching for his brother and changing his mind about something, it's always about Rick.

But throwing Leah into the mix shows that Beth will ultimately be in there somewhere, too. I think it's VERY possible that Daryl goes to France searching for Rick. As we've discussed, he has a specific mission, and maybe it's that he hears some hint of Rick and is following information to where he might be. But along the way, he runs into Beth. As someone pointed out above, that's exactly what happens in Find Me, which was clearly one huge foreshadow. He was searching, along a body of water no less, for Rick, and he found Leah. Via Dog (Sirius).

Anyway, I'm rambling. You both know all this. I just really love the connections here. Just working them out in my own mind. ;D Can't wait for October!!!

@galadrieljones

I read something about 18miles Out as being Gimple’s first real showing as a writer on TWD. The entire fight with Rick and Shane opposing the quiet action with Beth back at the farm was his idea. Homecomes just before Clear, which is all Gimple’s and definitely an early symbolism hotbed as well as the episode that establishes Morgan as Gimple’s “prophet.” Clear is also the episode when Michonne and Rick bring back Daryl’s new crossbow which I think has major meaning for his development.

Home I think shows that the writers had bigger plans for Daryl. He became a real lead. I definitely think it’s safe to say that Gimple was at least present enough at this point to have some ideas for what he wanted the future of his beats and of the show to look like. I am assuming that’s how you get made into a showrunner. You have a vision.

I really do like the idea that he’s looking for Rick and finds something else, which takes him on an unexpected journey to learn more about Beth and even find her.

We already have an indication that he’ll find another Beth lookalike, only this time instead of a mercenary psychopath who works for a “pope,” he will meet a nun. I can’t imagine that not being purposeful. Leah led Daryl down a winding path away from his family and his true mission.

Will Isabelle lead him on the path back to them? Will he finally learn his true mission? Many ppl in the GA do assume he is looking for Rick and they seem to view a reunion with Rick as Daryl’s ultimate endgame. But I don’t see that. Ricks endgame isn’t Daryl, it’s Michonne. Why would Daryl’s be Rick? That does a disservice to Daryl.

I think finding Rick would be important to Daryl but “he deserves his own happy ending.” I have to believe that doesn’t just mean finding Rick again. Rick is Judith’s happy ending, and I think Judith recognizes this when she says, “Thanks for looking for my parents but you need to find your endgame, too.” Daryl and Rick went their separate ways long ago. Finding Rick will only allow Daryl to bring him back to Judith. It won’t solve Daryl’s emptiness or unhappiness. He was empty well before he lost Rick. This discussion makes me start to understand the purpose of 10c much more and to see just how far out ahead of things they really were.

@wdway

Both Scott Gimple and Glenn Mazzara are listed as writers for 18 Miles Out. I know this is probably silly but it occurred to me last night that 18 Miles Out, was such a huge episode for Beth in her importance in the story going forward. 30 Days Without An Accident (another Gimple episode) was another beginning of a major arc for Beth. I'm thinking we need more episodes with numbers in the titles, haha.

@galadrieljones

(As I was typing endgame above I started thinking of the 8ball again. Getting to that 8ball.)

@wdway

Guys, I was excited to make the connection between Carol, Beth's conversation and the ties with the storyline of Leah. It definitely helped me with more understanding why Leah even existed. I can't believe we didn't see this earlier. You never know what's going to spark a thought, a connection, that's why going back and reading older post is important. I want to speak to both of y'all thoughts about Daryl initially searching for Rick in the spin-off. I am open to it although I don't have any strong feeling either way, to tell you the truth.

What I came away with after connecting Carol/Beth's conversation with Leah's and Daryl in both s3 Home and s10 Find Me, in both episodes it was about Daryl searching for his brother, his biological one and then his chosen one. He walked away from his family in order to do that. At the end of episode Home, Daryl comes to realize that he deserves his own life, that it is time to pursue his own happiness, his own destiny and by doing so he's not abandoning his brother's, he is simply putting himself first. That is how I perceive the storyline going in the spin-off. Daryl will finally realize he needs to put his own desires before that of finding Rick. I can also see Carol helping Daryl as a bit of payback for all the times that he had had Carol's back when she was trying to escape from her problems or situations.

@galadrieljones

It’s a perfect analysis of a Daryl’s character and I agree 100%. I think that if Daryl does go off in search of Rick it will end up like you said, which is very close to what I said I think, ie: he can’t make finding his brother be his entire life’s purpose and mission. He needs his own purpose and his own mission. The idea of searching is essential to who Daryl is and all of his struggles. It may even be that he needs to resist this time. And that it’s the moment he finally chooses to stop searching altogether that he finally finds what he’s looking for (love). In the teaser he says, “I went out looking for something, and all I found was trouble.” This is ALWAYS true. It’s true in Chupacabra, in Consumed, in Find Me, and now. Daryl’s story about how no one came to search for him in the woods when he was a kid is proving to be his most defining moment.

I wanted to quickly add to that I think a big part of Daryl’s characterization, that he is a compulsive provider, always worried about others and never himself, has in some ways colored the GA’s perception of him. They still see him as existing only in service to Rick. They can’t imagine him on an independent mission that revolves around finding something that’s just for him.

@wdway

Well put. I think we're all on the same page. I just wanted to point out that I believe a lot of the purpose of the episode Find Me was as a call back (which we totally did not get until now) to season 3 TSK/Home. That those episodes were not only foreshadowing to Find Me, but also to the spin-off.

@wdway

Daryl has always been the better friend, not only to Carol but to Rick than they have been to him. And they have come to really take him for granted that their needs and desires were more important than his. This is always been a pet peeve for me because Beth is the only one that we ever saw asking Daryl about himself, about comparing dreams, no one else has done that. That's why I hope with Carol joining him that the whole purpose would be for Daryl's goals and his happiness.

@galadrieljones

Well said. I couldn’t agree more.

#beth greene #beth greene lives #beth is alive #beth is coming #td theory #td theories #team delusional #team defiance #beth is almost here #bethyl

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candysmiles373 · 1 year

Text

A Spell Gone Awry - Solomon x GN!MC

!Trigger Warnings! - Suicide - Bad Grammar

Word Count: 2770

If I didn't love him so much, I'd kill Solomon for casting this awful spell! Of all the spells to mess up, why did it have to be this one!? It's breaking my heart, seeing everyone so torn apart over and over again because of me.

Although the date hasn't changed since the spell took effect, I've already gone through the same day fifteen times. Solomon swears that he's working as hard as he can to fix this mess, but he says it's difficult to come up with a solution in time, since his memories are reset at the beginning of every loop, just like everyone else.

It's not fair that I'm the only one whose memory remains even when the loop resets. It kills me to watch the people I care about suffer through my death over and over again.

"MC, how many loops has it been now?"

"Solomon, I've already told you this three times!"

"I know, I know. I just want to make sure I get this right. We don't have a lot of time since my memory will reset at midnight again when you-..."

"...When I die? I know. It's been fifteen loops so far."

"And you're sure that you've tried everything else you can think of?"

"I'm sure. In the last loop, I tried to ask Barbatos for help, but it seems that even Barbatos' abilities aren't enough to break the loop. In the loop before that, I asked Diavolo for help, but he couldn't break the spell no matter how hard he tried. In the end, they only exhausted themselves trying to save me. Although there was one loop where something strange happened."

"And you haven't mentioned this until now because...?"

"Well, I didn't think it was a big deal at first, but now that I think about it..."

"Well? What happened?"

"There was a loop - I can't recall which one - where Lucifer said something strange to me. I swear I hadn't told him anything about the spell in that loop, but he said something in reference to events that took place in a loop before the one we were in. When I addressed it, he only said that he didn't know what I was talking about and claimed he hadn't said anything along the lines of what he'd just said to me."

"I see... Perhaps the spell is beginning to wear off by itself? I don't recall how I made the spell, but it's possible that when I was concocting it I only intended to have it last for a certain number of loops."

"I don't think that's it. I can't explain why, but every time I die at the end of a loop, I get this strange feeling...like something isn't right..."

"Hmm... MC, I understand that resolving this situation is an urgent matter, but it's already getting late and we're no closer to finding a solution in this loop. Since I won't remember anything about the spell when it resets tomorrow - or, well, today - why don't we just try to enjoy the rest of the day together?"

"I told the brothers that I'd be home before midnight. I was hoping that I could simply lock myself away in my room and die alone so that I didn't have to witness them mourning for me again."

"This spell is absolutely awful. I don't know what I was thinking, being so careless whilst I was playing with magic. I should have been more careful. You haven't properly explained what happens after you die at the end of a loop. Could you tell me more about it?"

"I suppose. When the clock reaches 11:59 pm, I die. Sometimes it's a sudden danger that appears out of nowhere, or an unexpected accident befalls me. But a few times, I've just dropped dead without any apparent cause. Once I die, it's like my soul leaves my body and I can't move or speak, I can only watch the aftermath of my death. It stays that way for exactly one minute. Once the clock strikes midnight, the loop resets itself again to the beginning of the day. The day repeats itself but, depending on what I do or say, some things can change."

"Sigh... I'm so sorry, MC. I can't believe I let this happen. I promise you that I'll find a way to correct this, no matter how many loops we have to go through, you have my word that I'll fix it."

. . .

It's been three loops since I had that conversation with Solomon. In this loop, he asked me to leave him to do his research alone for the day and told me I should just try not to worry about it and go about the day as I usually would. Unfortunately, it's proving to be easier said than done at the moment...

"Hey! Watch where yer swingin' that thing!" Mammon just barely dodges out of the way of Satan's thrashing tail, whilst Satan is too preoccupied with fighting Lucifer off of him.

As I watch the seven brothers fighting amongst themselves like a rowdy group of little kids, I can't help but feel overwhelmed by everything that has happened leading up to this. Although Solomon said I should just pretend that everything is normal for now, I can't hide my misery from the brothers this time around.

At first, the brothers were just concerned and offered me their support for whatever I was going through. Then, when they found me sobbing on the floor in the entranceway, they began to question what was going on. At some point, the brothers had started throwing accusations at one another, trying to determine which one of them it was that had upset me to such an extent. Of course, none of them know the real reason is that I'm stuck in a time loop and I'm going to die in fifteen minutes.

In his haste to avoid being thrown into a wall by Satan's tail, Mammon manages to step on Belphie's. Belphie tears his attention away from throwing things at Asmo and turns his fury on Mammon, tossing a vase right at Mammon's head. Beel, enraged that Mammon had stood on Belphie's tail, radiates murderous intent as he throws himself into the fray. For some reason, Asmo seems to take even more offense at being ignored by Belphie all of a sudden and attempts to strike him once again.

"Why won't it stop? Why can't this stupid spell end already? Why...WHY...WHY!?" My sudden scream silences the brothers and stops them in their tracks, every one of them turning to face me in apparent concern. Only now do I realize that hot stinging tears have begun to roll down my cheeks and I squeeze my eyes shut in a feeble attempt to stop them from flowing, turning my head away in shame. When I open my eyes, they land on the clock across the room.

Oh. I only have ten minutes left. Since Solomon hasn't shown up yet, he must not have found a way to stop the spell yet. I suppose I'll just have to tell him again once the loop resets and hope that he'll be able to figure it out in the next one.

"MC... We're sorry. We didn't mean to make you cry. Please, forgive us." Lucifer is the first to speak, snapping my attention back to the brothers, all waiting in silent apprehension.

Right. They think I'm crying because of their fighting. Truthfully, I am upset that they're fighting, but I've been through so many loops now that this fight is an expected occurrence. Unpleasant though it may be, the fight isn't the reason that I find myself in tears right now.

Wait. Why am I crying...? Because I'm afraid of dying again? Because I'm afraid that I'll have to go through this day over and over again for the rest of eternity? No, that isn't it. I am afraid, but that's not why I'm crying. I'm crying because I've been so blind - so naive - all this time.

Time. That's exactly it.

Time is why I'm crying...

No matter how many times I go through this loop, it still feels like it's the last time I'll ever see all the people I care about. That feeling - the one I keep getting at the end of every loop - it wasn't because of the spell, it was because the spell reminded me of my own mortality.

Being human, I'll never live as long as demons, angels, or an immortal sorcerer. One day, whether I like it or not, my life will come to an end and I'll be forced to leave behind all of the people I love.

"MC...?"

Oh, right. They're still waiting for an answer. I glance back at the clock; five minutes left. I sweep my gaze over the seven brothers, all sorrow-filled eyes fixed on me.

I love every one of them so much. I've become a part of this family; this strange, whacky, wonderful family. But if I die one day, I'll be leaving them all behind...just like Lilith did. Perhaps it would be better for me to leave them all behind sooner rather than later, that way we can't grow even more attached than we already have.

Maybe...just maybe...if I take my own life before midnight, this terrible loop can end with me and everyone can go back to their lives, just as they were before I ever arrived.

"I've decided." I wipe my eyes on the back of my sleeve, forcing a thin smile onto my face. I vaguely register the sound of the front door opening behind me as I speak, but whoever enters keeps quiet. "Could you guys make me a promise...?"

"Of course, MC. Anything, if you'll forgive us." Beel looks downcast, tone laced with remorse and fervent apology.

"Promise me, that no matter what happens, you'll always be family. Even if you fight and argue and disagree all the time, always love and care for each other above all else. Always remember...that you're family..."

"MC... Of course we'll always be family. And you're a part of our family too. But...why does this sound like a goodbye...?" Lucifer's gaze becomes uncharacteristically soft, a rare look of fear painted across his features. The brothers all look on in perplexed silence, almost as if they're paralyzed by their fear.

I cast a sidelong glance at the clock, just as it reaches 11:58 pm. Offering the brothers one final close-eyed smile, I call upon my magic to materialize a sword in the air. As a fresh wave of tears washes over me, I can't bring myself to hold them back anymore. "Because it is..."

"MC, WAIT!"

Using my magic, I plunge the sword through my chest and black spots begin to obscure my vision as I feel my strength slipping away from me. As my legs give out beneath me, I expect to hit the floor hard but, instead, I feel warm arms wrapping around me before I can come into contact with the ground. There's an unpleasant ringing in my ears, but I can barely make out several muffled voices shouting around me. My vision is becoming darker by the second, but I can just about discern who is who based on the blurs of color surrounding me.

Familiar blue-brown eyes smile down at me and I feel a warm hand pushing back the hair out of my face. I struggle to focus on Solomon's face, straining my ears to hear what he's saying when I realize that his lips are moving. "...I can't figure out if you're incredibly brave or incredibly foolish. But, then again, that's what I love about you, isn't it? There, there. There's no need to cry. You're going to be okay. I promise..."

The dull ache that had been spreading throughout my body begins to fade away into the back of my mind and a strange sense of calm falls over me as Solomon wipes away my tears with his thumb. A peaceful feeling takes hold of me and refuses to let go, dragging me into the inviting darkness that awaits me.

Even after I lose all feeling in my body and my vision is covered by darkness, I still hear those final words that Solomon whispers beside my ear. "...You did great, MC. Wait for me, okay? We'll be together again soon..."

. . .

Gasp! I wake up in bed with a start, sitting bolt upright so quickly that the world seems to spin around me for a moment and I clutch my head as I feel a stab of pain in my chest. When my head clears, I grab my D.D.D from beside my bed. 6:59 am.

But I thought that I killed myself to end the loop. Was that all a dream? All of that pain, all of those tears; it felt so real. Was it all really just a bad dream? I get out of bed but collapse immediately, all my strength being sapped the moment I get to my feet, a sharp pain shooting through my entire body.

No, it wasn't a nightmare; it was real. Everything that happened to me was real. With some struggle, I manage to get back on my feet. It's tomorrow - or, more accurately, tomorrow is today - which means that the spell has been broken. I hurry downstairs and scan the entranceway for any signs of what had happened. There's no trace of any of the destruction that the brothers caused when they were fighting, not even a single drop of blood remains. It's as though nothing ever happened...

No, I know it was real. I remember everything so vividly. I remember...Solomon! I have to find Solomon! Without wasting another second, I scour the House of Lamentation for any signs of the sorcerer, but I only see the brothers milling around the house. They all attempt to stop me and ask me why I'm in such a rush and why I look so panicked, but I don't spare any of them a glance. Concluding that Solomon isn't here, I bolt for the door, tailed by the worried brothers that stop at the door to call out after me.

"MC, where are ya goin'!?"

"MC! Come back here at once and tell us what happened!"

"Tell us what's going on, damnit!"

"Hey, we were supposed to game together today!"

I don't stop - I don't even look back - I can only focus on finding Solomon, running as fast as my legs can carry me to Purgatory Hall. I have to tell him... I have to tell Solomon that I love him too!

I make it to Purgatory Hall, exhausted and out of breath. I burst through the door without bothering to knock, panting heavily as I scan the area for that familiar head of white hair. I find Solomon, along with Simeon and Luke, in the sitting room. When I throw open the doors, they turn to me with bewildered looks on their faces, undoubtedly confused by my frazzled state and bizarre behavior.

Solomon puts an arm over the back of the sofa as he turns to look at me, raising a brow at my dramatic entrance, visibly amused by my appearance already.

"Solomon, I'm sorry! I should never have done what I did! I should have trusted you and been patient! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" I don't even know if the words that I blurt out make any sense; I don't take the time to think through what I'm saying.

Solomon's amusement vanishes just as quickly as it had appeared; he gets up from his seat and turns to me fully, looking thoroughly concerned, but no less confused. "MC, what are you talking about? Did something happen?"

He...doesn't remember...?

...Hedoesn'trememberhedoesn'trememberhedoesn'tremember...

HE DOESN'T REMEMBER!

My whole body suddenly feels weak - even weaker than when I was dying - and my legs begin to tremble until they eventually buckle beneath me and I come crashing to my knees, barely registering the pain that it causes. At first, I don't even notice that I'm crying - not until my sobbing turns into ear-splitting wails of grief. An immeasurable agony takes root in my chest, as though something was squeezing my heart.

When I open my eyes again, Solomon is on his knees before me, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me into a desperate embrace. His grip on me is somehow gentle enough to soothe my aching heart, yet firm enough to ground me; to assure me that this is real, that he's here and he's not going anywhere.

Burying my face in his chest, I convince myself that everything is fine; that I'm going to be okay. I'll have to explain everything to Solomon eventually but, for now, I just want to stay like this; safe and warm in his arms, remembering those precious words he said to me.

#obey me #om! shall we date #omswd #obey me solomon

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000rion · 7 months

Text

Chapter 4

Tears Fall Into The Sea

Masterlist

"You know how Ursa means bear? It's fitting that I end up with a Beast."

Ben Florian Beast x Ursa, daughter of Ursula (OC)

Trigger Warning: mentions of suicide and depression

✧༝┉˚❋ ❋˚┉༝✧

"Hey, Ursa!" Ben runs to catch up with her, finding Ursa alone and walking to her next class.

She turns and lifts her face in a little smile. "Hey, Ben."

He returns her smile brightly. "I've been wondering something."

"Yes?"

"Can you turn into a mermaid with tentacles, like your mother?" On a closer look, there's a glint in his eyes and a mischievous twist in his lips.

Ursa laughs. "I wouldn't even know that because of the magic barrier around the Isle," she said in a 'duh' voice.

"Oh, right." Ben's smile falls a little at the reminder.

Seeing this, Ursa tries to change the topic a little, "Is there any place to swim here at Auradon Prep? I would love to swim." She smirks a little. "I wonder if I get my mother's tentacles or my father's tail."

"Really? You might have a mermaid tail," Ben says, surprised.

"Really." She smiles.

"Does that mean that you can have the magic-dissipating tears and the siren-song mermaids have too?"

"I mean, my mom was a mermaid with a tail before she was cursed by the trident to have tentacles, so I would still have the enchanted tears and siren-song either way."

"Right. I forgot King Triton and Ursula are siblings."

Ben pauses, then a shy smile grows back on his face. "Say, would you want to go to a lake with me? So you can check which one you have? And you can learn how to use it."

"I would actually love that," says Ursa.

Ben looks forward. "Let's go the weekend after the Tourney match?"

"Let's!" Ursa smiles at him.

While Ursa walks to her next class and Ben walks with her, they talk about anything and everything under the sun: their classes, Ursa's therapy, Ben's upcoming coronation, things they wish to do, places they wish to visit, how they were as kids, and much more. By the time they get to Ursa's Remedial Goodness class, their smiles are big, and they laugh together at a sarcastic comment Ursa made.

Their laughs drew the attention of FG and the other Isle Kids, with FG smiling at them and Mal unknowingly frowning at their closeness.

Once Ursa realized where they were, she said, "This is my class. Are you going to study here in the library?"

"No, I have to attend a meeting for my coronation at Beast Castle."

"Then why did you walk with me here?"

"I just wanted to walk you here, since I have time before needing to leave."

"You didn't have to, especially if you have an important meeting to prepare."

"It's okay, I wanted to." An unreadable smile lights up Ben's face. "You should get used to people wanting to hang out with you, you know," he says, nudging her shoulder with his.

Ursa blushes. "Whatever you say, your highness. Now, shoo, go." She pushes him away, towards the door.

He looks back and waves at her before he goes.

✧༝┉˚❋ ❋˚┉༝✧

At such a young age, adults have been telling Ben and Audrey, who were playmates, that they would be good together, and that they would lead Auradon well together. It started with Audrey's grandmother and spread throughout all the adults that would see them play.

It was only natural that the two of them would grow up close to each other, and when they were old enough, become together romantically. However, to Audrey, she had only wanted the crown and the prestige that came along with it, and to Ben, he had only wanted friends.

Despite being both of their playdates, Chad grew up distanced from the group, as the adults kept on pairing Audrey and Ben together. Later on, he thought he was jealous of their relationship because he liked Audrey when he only wanted to be as close to them, for others to refer to them as a trio of friends.

Ben grew up nice and kind, and the other two grew up prideful and full of themselves, as they were the esteemed girlfriend and friend of the crown prince of Auradon. Ben didn't like their change from being sweet children to haughty teenagers, but he was too fearful to lose their friendship that he didn't tell them or urge them to become better. Still, that doesn't mean he won't harbor distaste for their behavior in his heart.

"Do you think they actually paid for those?"

Ben and Audrey were at his locker when they saw a gaggle of girls whose hair Mal spelled.

"She did it to Jane's hair, too, and Fairy Godmother's not happy about it," continues Audrey.

"What's the harm?" Ben asks, shrugging and smiling.

"It's gateway magic! Sure, it starts with the hair. Next thing you know It's the lips and the legs and the clothes and then everybody looks good and then... Where will I be?"

Ah, so that's what she's worried about. He starts, "Listen, Audrey-"

She interrupts him, "I will see you at the game after my dress-fitting for the coronation, okay?"

"Okay."

"Bye, Bennyboo." She air-kisses his cheek.

"Bye."

A shrill voice calls behind him, "Hey, Bennyboo!"

He turns. It was Mal. "Hey," he says while putting on a smile on his face.

"I just made a batch of cookies. Double chocolate chip, do you want one?" Asks Mal.

"Oh, I, uh, I've got a big game. I don't eat before a big game. But thank you so, so much. Thank you. Next time. Next time."

"No, yeah," Mal says as Ben starts to turn around. "I completely understand. 'Be careful of treats offered by kids of villains.'"

"No, no, no," he tries to say.

"No, I'm sure every kid in Auradon knows that."

"No, that's not it. No, no, no, I... I really do..."

"No, I get it. You're cautious. That's smart. Oh, well, more for me, I guess." Mal grasps a cookie and tries to bite it, but Ben grabs it and bites into it.

"No, no. Hey... see that? Totally trust you. Totally."

"How are they?" Mal asks with a glint in her eyes.

"They're good. They're great! They're amazing! They're, uh..." His brain fogs over.

"I mean, they're chewy and, and you know, they... is that walnuts? I love walnuts. I mean, uh, you know, the... The chocolate... The... the chocolate... The chocolate chips are... I'm sorry." Why is it becoming so hard for him to speak?

"Um... Uh, they're... They're warm and soft. And they're sweet..." Her eyes...

"Mal, have you always had those little golden flecks in your eyes?"

He feels a hand on his shoulder, but all he can think of is Mal. "How you feeling, bro?" A voice says.

"I feel... I feel... I feel like... Like singing your name." And he does start to sing. "Mal, Mal." Mal's hand covers his mouth.

"I think you better go to your Tourney game, right Jay?" Says Mal.

"That's right, bro, we should go," Jay tells Ben.

He doesn't want to leave Mal. "But, Mal!"

"You'll see her later, Ben. Carlos help me here."

Ben feels two sets of arms grab his biceps and pulling him away from Mal.

"Bye, Bennyboo!" says Mal, wiggling her fingers as a sort of wave. So Ben waves back. Or at least, he tries to.

✧༝┉˚❋ ❋˚┉༝✧

Ben's head clears the farther he is from Mal. He lets Jay and Carlos go ahead for the Tourney game, while Ben goes to his room to retrieve his newly washed jersey.

On his way to the locker room, though, he sees Chad and Audrey cornering Ursa.

"You'll always be the filth at the bottom of the barrel," says Audrey in a sickly sweet voice. "Being at Auradon Prep, befriending the Crown Prince, my boyfriend, will not change that you're just a Villain Kid, a peasant in a world of kings and queens."

Chad pushes Ursa at her shoulders. "You will never be one of us. Understand?"

Ursa is close to tears but stands her ground defiantly.

Ben runs towards them. "Stop!" He peels off Chad and Audrey from Ursa. "What are you doing?!"

Audrey looks at him with guilty eyes. "Ben, we were just-"

"No, nothing can excuse what you've said to her," Ben rages. "I don't even know why I call you my friends, and why I call you my girlfriend," he tells the two of them.

"Chad, we're not friends anymore. And Audrey, we are over."

Audrey's heart breaks. Ben was her best friend. "Ben-"

"No." Ben realizes he's losing his best friends, but he is done with their attitude, especially toward the VKs, and especially toward Ursa. He grows cold towards them. "That's enough."

Tears roll down Audrey's cheeks as she rushes away from Ben.

Chad just looks at him with disappointment and sadness, as if Ben was the one who did him wrong, and chases after Audrey.

With her bullies gone, Ursa finally lets her tears run down her face after what feels like a lifetime of holding it in.

Ben feels his heart fill with sadness for her and runs his thumb over her tears.

Suddenly he feels the fog over his heart and his mind dissipate. He realizes what was done to him. The cookie, and Mal... Ursa's tears washed away the spell.

Remembering where he is, he cradles Ursa's head and brings her into a tight embrace, not caring for the tears that wet his shirt.

#Ben Beast #Ben Florian #Ben Florian Beast #Descendants #Mal Bertha #Evie Grimhilde #Jay #Uma #Harry Hook #Gil #descendants fic #carlos de ville

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