#it cracked and the pain went away on GOD when i say that felt good. its bc it did.

[soap-ify]

simon can't be with you anymore.

cw gn!reader , angst , hurt / no comfort, simon doesn't know what he's doing.

notes streets said that it's angstmas !! didn't know that it existed until recently. anyways, since i'm having the worst week of my life, i'm gonna ruin it for simon too.

maybe simon was being stupid.

he probably was. not that he could think of any other options besides leaving you.

his work was too dangerous, and the next deployment was probably going to be his last. especially after the recent briefing he went to where the captain spoke about the upcoming mission — a highly risky one. in fact, even the most skilled like ‘ghost’ was bound to either get severely injured or just die. probably the latter. especially since he wouldn’t be with the rest of the taskforce 141 in the fucking warzone.

just a sacrifice for the better of the world, yeah? even though a part of him didn’t want to. fuck the world. you meant so much more to him. but he had chosen this job right. he had agreed to the mission.

and after all, he never considered himself deserving of you, deserving of this relationship he had with you. he knew he was somewhat of a distant boyfriend — barely opening up about his own feelings or past. at least he had shown you his face. you didn’t deserve someone as dangerous as him, someone so… damaged.

he didn’t want to die knowing that you’d be waiting home, all sad and lonely. he didn’t want to leave you like that, but at the same time, he didn’t want to stay and just watch this sweet bubble you two were in shatter. in both ways, he had to leave you. he had to somehow make this less painful, to make it easier for you to move on.

god, he was an asshole. he knew he was. he spent the week just distancing himself from you, responding to your words with nods and grunts while barely reciprocating to your affectionate touches. his heart was breaking more and more everyday, noticing the pained look in your eyes.

he couldn’t keep doing this for much longer. eventually, he had to end this, and he did.

“we can’t be together.”

his words hit you like a brick. literally on a random friday evening. not so random now, it seemed.

“what do you mean, si…?” your voice got quieter with each word, uncertainty towards your own state of mind flooding inside you while a lump formed in your throat, restraining you from properly even speaking out. your eyes stared at him in pure confusion and heart, noticing how he was cladded in his uniform, how he wore that damn skull mask balaclava — building up those walls again that you had managed to break so easily with your love.

simon hated this. he didn’t want to see you so confused and defeated. he had to stop himself mentally from doing something irrational. he was doing this for you, for your own good. though hearing you call him ‘si’ seemed to somewhat crack his composure.

“look, we can’t be together. s’too dangerous. too risky for you. you never know when i might die.” soon, but he held himself from saying that. you didn’t need to know about his deployment, not at all.

“w-why so sudden?” your voice cracked as you tried to properly make sense of his words, emotions taking off your being while you tried to hold in the tears that had begun to sting your eyes.

too dangerous, too risky — maybe somewhere in your heart, you had known that a day like this would come. simon riley was too careful about safety, too dedicated to his work while simultaneously being madly in love. suddenly, all of his sudden distant behavior made sense, and you felt somewhat stupid. stupid for, well, everything.

he was the plague that had infected you, and now he needed to leave so you could heal.

but you never thought of him like that. he was your rock, the anchor that held you from slipping away into loneliness that had always somehow stuck with you throughout your life, a sting that only simon could soothe. it was simon who would craddle you in his arks every night, it was simon who would listen to your rambles. it was simon who your heart was so willing to give love to.

and now he was going to leave.

simon had expected you to scream, to somehow target your anger and frustrations at him. he wanted you to yell at him, he deserved it.

but you didn’t. you sniffled, beads of tears beginning to roll down your cheeks as you took a wobbly step back, too exhausted to fight back or anything.

you didn’t blame simon. how could you? even now, you couldn’t find a flaw in him. too in love? maybe.

as silence filled the living room of the apartment you used to share with him, he slowly picked up his duffel bag and sighed, trying to keep his brown eyes cold and unfeeling, to make it look like he didn’t feel remorseful, to hide his heart was threatening to tear out of his own skin.

“i’ll always love you, simon…”

you said after a few seconds, causing his head to turn over to look back at you — your eyes teary and puffy while your cheeks were streaked with tears, his hands aching to wipe them away. your voice was weak, reluctantly defeated. you know that there was no point in stopping him.

i’ll always love you too, he mentally thought, though never said.

"one final kiss...?" simon froze at your request, knowing that if he were to look at your face any longer, he'd actually stay. he sighed and pressed a soft kiss on your forehead before pulling away, brown eyes hardening up.

he gave you a final nod and exited the apartment from the front door, leaving you alone all over again, your heart torn in pieces as you fell down on your knees, shattering into pieces that no one was going to bother picking up now. only simon could, but he was gone.

simon riley had died three months after that, and you never found out. for you, ge had just disappeared, leaving no traces behind.

just a memory that you were afraid you’d forget eventually, forget his touch and his voice, forget his face — just a memory that was going to bury itself no matter how hard you may try.

#i don't know what i am doing #literally writing everything EXCEPT the simon oneshot i am actually supposed to be writing #evilly ruins simon's life. #teared up while writing this #WHO GETS THE REFERENCE HERE !! #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #cod x reader #call of duty #rurufic

[idontreallyexistyet]

Hitman!John Dory blurb

It’s his brother, he shouldn’t be scared of him. That’s the thought that John Dory had been repeating to himself for the past five minutes as Floyd went on and on about how happy he was to see JD again. “I’m glad you’re okay” Floyd continued “I really missed you. I mean I missed everyone but, 20 years alone does something to a troll y’know?” JD paused at that and looked up. “Me?” He snorted with his eyebrows raised. Floyd looked a little hurt at the reaction but didn’t say anything, simply looking at John Dory like he was a scared animal, he offered up a smile and stepped closer, raising his hand ever so slightly to touch John Dory.

The scar around his neck tingled, the hand brought itself closer to his face, it was muscle memory at this point; he had done it a million times before.

Without thinking John Dory grabbed the wrist of the troll in front of him and in one fluid motion had him slammed face first into the ground, knee on its back and arms pulled behind him. It wasn’t until he heard a gasp of pain, and the cracked, scared voice of Floyd that the darkness around his vision dissipate. “John..” a shaky gasp “John Dory?” Floyd whimpered, confused “that hurts”

That hurts. Over and over, the words flew around his head crashing into his skull, imbedding themselves into his skin like knives; the scar around his neck tingled. But it was nothing compared to the face of his brother underneath him.

That hurts. It echoed through his ears as he backed away, pulling down his goggles and trying desperately to make it back to Rhonda. The words clawed at him, scaring every inch of smooth skin that was left.

That Hurts. It whispered as he curled in on himself in the driver seat with shaky breaths.

God…. That’s he was good for now wasn’t it? Hurting people. It was a mistake to come back here, it wasn’t worth it. Not worth it at all

John Dory kept his goggles in place as he felt the few tears slide from his eyes and into the plastic underneath them.

Why was he only ever good when it came to hurting people and tearing families apart?

(@lemony-and-zesty)

#Hitman John Dory #John Dory #Floyd #Trolls Band Together #Trolls Band Together au #Angst? #ficlet? #blurb

[emotionallyunstableduck]

Sweet Slumber

Pairings: Geto Suguru x Reader

Warnings: angst with no comfort.

Summary: Geto was your light at the end of the tunnel. Unfortunately, it ran out of fuel way too soon.

a/n: God, I choked up towards the end. Something about suguru's downfall deeply resonates with me, and i can't help but cry about it on a weekly basis.

When you first met your senior Geto Suguru, all you could think about was how your world seemed to stop. To say his sharp features were ethereal would be an understatement.

When Y/N Y/L/N first arrived at jujutsu tech, she didn't know what she would tangle herself into.

"Good morning I am Yu Haibara" the dark haired kid greeted you cheerfully which you politely returned. "I'm so excited to have another first year" Yu continued "we have another classmate. His name is Nanami Kento. He is on the grumpier side but I just know we will be a great trio". His contagious smile is doing wonders on you right now. Both you and Yu went to your classroom where you noticed the lanky blonde who you noted to be Nanami. The two of you indulge Yu in a conversation as your teacher entered along with three other students.

That is when you saw him in all his glory. The love your life, The cause of your death.

Soon they introduced themselves and so did you people. The white haired loud one was Gojo Satoru and His raven haired friend, the object of your immediate attraction Geto Suguru and The short haired brunette Shoko Ieiri whom you could see yourself hanging out with. The day melted away with your seniors' shenanigans and nanami's irritable attitude doubling over gojo.

That night you tried to shake your head as thoughts of your senior filled your head and it seems it wasn't exactly one sided.

Over the next 3 months your life flourished along with your ever blooming crush on Geto Suguru. The small talk and fleeting eye contact soon became midnight snack run meetings and lasting touches.

You cannot exactly pinpoint when and how you started dating. Gradually you were inseparable. You were each other's safe space for Suguru taught you what soulmates meant. Hand holding to kissing to getting lost together under your sheets, it was blissful. Beautiful. A dream.

But alas dreams sometimes morph into nightmares.

Suguru and Satoru were assigned a mission to protect the star plasma vessel. The mission went as horrible as one could think. That day Geto suguru lost a lot more than the life of Riko Amanai. He lost his way. What followed was a series of events that lead to the darkest day of your life.

Suguru looked dull. His warm smile felt empty and almost like a charade. "Sugu you are really worrying me". As you watched your beloved boyfriend slowly destroy himself, all you could do was mourne not even knowing what it is you were mourning. The rock bottom soon dug itself deeper when you and your classmates were assigned what seemed like a simple kill and come mission but oh god was that not the case.

Geto's pain multiplied the moment he lost his junior to death and his girlfriend to a coma.

The negative emotions spiraled. Losing his true north took a toll on him in ways more than one. He prayed he begged he screamed he shouted. "why" he thought. These emotions birthed clarity. Clarity that was against everything he stood for.

Soon all he was was hate.

The day you regained consciousness was a few days too late. The man you loved was no longer a man but a ravenous murderer out for revenge.

When Shoko updated you on the current situation, you thought it was bullshit. Of course you did. How could Geto Suguru ever be anything bad in your eyes.

The silent night that followed, you found yourself near the little creek at the edge of your school grounds. A place you hold dear. A place where you shared your first kiss with suguru.

"beautiful night huh" you turn around to face the owner of the familier night. "sugu" Your voice cracks "i knew they were lying". She approached the raven haired man with desparacy. "I'm glad you came. lets clear out this misunderstanding and-and we can go back to normal". The tears were barely holding as you clutch onto suguru.

"whoever said it's a misunderstanding dear". All it took to break the lie you were telling yourself. "WHY" you sobbed.

"I'm doing the jujutsu world a favour darling" he spoke. Not a slight intonation of guilt in his words. "I thought I'd take you with me. We'd reform this society together" his hands caressed your cheek "but". What followed was the most agonizing moment of your life. The man you saw your entire life with just lodged a dagger through your heart both literally and metaphorically "you remind me of my humanity".

He kissed you one last time before he laid you down on the soft grass. As he stared at your lifeless body, he knew he would never know peace.

a/n: I really want to get back to writing more often cause it is genuinely nice. Hopefully, I'll get more time from now on

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #geto x reader #geto x y/n #jujutsu geto #jjk #jjk x reader #getou suguru x reader #geto suguru #jjk suguru #geto x you #suguru x reader #suguru x you #geto suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen angst #jjk angst #geto angst #geto suguru angst

[fandoms-writings]

Sore Muscles

A Something Domestic Drabble

Pairing: ex-military amputee!Bucky x fem!Reader

Summary: Bucky’s prosthetic has been causing some issues, but it’s a good thing he has you to help him out with that

Word Count: 1.1K

Warnings: muscle soreness and a massage?? So just fluff

A/N: thanks to @sweetdreamsbuck for planting this seed in my head, I hope you enjoy <3

Series Masterlist || Bucky Masterlist

Ever since he got the new arm, even though he was doing physical therapy to try and help get used to it, Bucky's muscles had started to ache. He'd tried to ignore it, pushing through the work he did with you every day on top of his physical therapy that he did three times a week.

Today, his body was not having it.

He felt the bed dip and shift as you turned, moving to get up for the morning and he'd peeled his eyes open to watch you. He loved watching you in the morning - the way the barely rising sun would dance on your skin as you made your way to the closet, only leaving a small gap open in the doorway for Alpine who liked to be your shadow. The way you tried so hard to be quiet to not wake him even though he couldn't sleep past you getting out of bed in the first place.

He'd watch through the crack in the closet door as you searched through your clothes, searching for a specific pair of pants or a certain shirt. You'd eventually merge from the closet, clothed and ready to go down stairs to make your coffee. Lifting his arm to get your attention before you walked out, he smiled once you linked your fingers together, sitting on the edge of the bed next to him.

"Good morning, Jamie," You whispered against his lips as you leaned over to plant yours there.

Humming into the kiss, he couldn't stop from trying to nip at your lips before you pulled away, "Good morning, darlin'." He went to turn over, to lay on his back so he could really look at you in the morning light, but the second he got his elbow lifted enough to pull on the muscle, his back all but seized.

Letting out a long groan as he struggled to finish turning around, he could feel your hands hesitating on his skin, not knowing how to help but wanting to. Once he was finally on his back and could relax again, he let out the breath he'd held after his muscles started their tantrum.

"Oh god, that sucks," He muttered, opening his eyes to see you still sat beside him, your face coated in worry.

"Are you okay?" You asked, not sure where to rest your hands on him, not wanting to cause him any more pain than what you just witnessed.

He sighed before doing his best to shrug, "I don't know, it was just like my back was on fire for a second." He felt your hand rest against his chest and he reached up to grab it, lacing your fingers together.

"You stay here, I'll let the horses out and get them fed," You started, rubbing your thumb along his knuckles, "and when I come back, we're taking that arm off of you and working on your back."

He tried to argue with you, to say that he could still get up and help and that you shouldn't be doing all this work on your own but you shut him up. He got an earful about how you can do it, you've been doing it for years before he showed up on your porch and how if he tried to follow you out there, you'd personally drag him back in by the collar of his shirt.

So he waited for you.

He laid there, trying to will his muscles to relax but to no avail. In fact, it felt like they were just getting worse, mocking him as they held him captive to the bed while he could hear you outside doing morning chores thanks to the open window.

It didn't take long though for you to finish up and come back inside, ditching your shoes and grabbing lotion before making your way to the bedroom where you helped Bucky sit up. He leaned against you, clutching at your side with his flesh hand as you worked to get his prosthetic off, sighing when the weight of it dislodged from him and fell to the bed. You moved it to the floor, where it wouldn't get stepped on or kicked, and helped him lay on his stomach before you placed yourself over him. Straddling his hips and sitting on the backs of his thighs, you got to work, moving the lotion into his back and feeling the riddled mess of knots in his muscles.

Bucky swore your hands were magic, there was no way they weren't. Whether you admitted it or not, there was something supernatural about the way your hands worked the knots out of his back.

He couldn't help the groans that crawled their way out of his throat and slipped past his lips every time you got one of the knots to at least shrink, the feeling of his muscles finally relaxing made him feel like he was literally melting into the blankets under him.

He got lost in how good it felt, going into somewhat of a trance as your hands forced the knots away. It wasn't long until you had him on the verge of sleep, in the midst of limbo under your touch. Slightly humming as you lightly dragged your fingertips across his skin after you were done working his muscles. You could see the sleepy smiles gracing his lips when you switched to your nails, gently scratching his back in long strokes - one of his favorites.

When you leaned over and placed a line of kisses across the expanse of his shoulders, paying special attention to the scars on the left side, that was what pulled him back to the waking world. You rested your weight against his back, laying on top of him as gently as you could while wrapping your hands around his shoulders.

"Thank you, darlin'," he muttered into the sheets, relishing in the way you felt pressed against him, and noticing how his back hardly ached anymore. He brought his hand up to grab at your hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze as you leaned up to kiss just under his ear.

"Of course, you know I like taking care of you," You whispered, this moment seeming too gentle to speak any louder.

"I know you do," He hummed, pulling your hand forward so he could lay a kiss on your knuckles before sinking into the mattress again, comfortably pressed down by your weight, like his own personal security blanket.

He didn't know what he'd do without you, but he did know that he was going to repay you for this. Later. For now, he was going to allow himself this moment of reprieve for as long as you'd lay on him.

As always, thank you for reading! Reblogs, likes, and comments are always appreciated <3

If you want to be updated when i post a new story, please follow my library blog and turn on notifications <3 @remis-library

#bucky barnes x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fluff #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky x you #bucky x f!reader #bucky barnes fanficiton #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #something domestic #veteran!bucky #modern au #amputee!bucky

[whiskeyswifty]

i think clara bow is my favorite right now. god it's so good, its so smart and so beautifully produced. it SOUNDS fatalist, like it's the lyrics yes but how it's just her voice and a guitar at the beginning, how her start began. the violins coming in and the way it builds and builds it's sound like her career built over time and how she gets closer and closer to making it, bigger and bigger as a star. and then when she's at the top, she has it all, finally what she wanted, the instrumental falls away as it's quiet at the top, lonely but peaceful because she did it. she can rest now, right? well, then she says "thems the breaks they don't come gently" to transition as on the horizon she sees the new her, just starting out and shiny and new. her tower has already begun to crack and crumble. Finally, the song ends with the same instrumental that it started with, that guitar strums up again just as hers did once, as a new girl, the new her, begins her rise. the one who will take her place has already been born.

it's so poignant to hear her depict it this way, so matter of factly and without any pain or any vindictiveness. having broached this topic before many times before, she's feared it for so long. how her star will one day wane and it won't be her fault. It's just the way of things. but this is a glimpse into how she really feels about it now that its finally happening. what it feels like to see her destroyer in her infancy, knowing who she will grow to be. and what is she to do? smother the infant in it's sleep? another will come, and another and another. the song feels mournful but with resignation that she was once that person to usurp own heroes, and those who idolize her will tear her statue down one day to erect their own in it's place, and that's the way of things. should she prepare this girl, or warn this girl? should she tell her everything that is to come? the song really just takes more of a stance of remove like she'll learn, but she will learn when she faces it, and that's the only way to understand it. growing older and losing that sparkle and shine, which she was still chasing for a while but perhaps has realized there's no use. in all the iterations of this confrontation with her fate before, she's beat back against it, wallowed in deep sadness over it in Nothing New, how she white knuckle held onto it in YOYOK because she's different and special, and even how she quite naively assures her predecessor that she understands, or she thinks she does, but she will not give it away so easily, because not now, not yet, maybe the ones who came before her gave it up so easily but not her, she won't, not ever. but here, it's not a "they WILL say" or a "one day", she says "You look like Taylor Swift" presently, now. she's looking her destroyer in the face. or someone is saying it to her destroyer now. Her statement of it feels like a concession and maybe a recognition, finally, without the anger and without the desperation to hold on. a nod maybe from across the room. as if to say "yes, it's you, it'll be you, if you do it right. I know because you are like me, and I was like the one who came before who were like the one who came before, and on and on it went and on and on it will go. i would say congrats, but one day you'll understand why that isn't quite fitting and why i'm not putting up as much of a fight anymore. and i know now it's not mine to give, but it is yours to take." because maybe it's because she see's with a bit more clarity, finally, that her predecessors might not have left it all behind, bowed out, because they wanted to. perhaps they all felt like her, they were all just like her, never wanting to let go. while the first parts of the song feel like what's happening to her is so singular, what are the odds! perhaps she's never been that special in the grand scheme of things, each of them always like someone else that came before her and there will always be someone like them to come. they all only ever left it because they had to, the writing was on the wall, and they knew that the only choice they had was whether or not they'd bow out gracefully. Retain a piece of dignity and take their place among the stars to shine down on the next pretty, sparkly thing.

And i love it as a closing track because it while her romantic life may be in turmoil, while she may have lost herself completely as her life imploded, this is one thing she found surprising clarity about. this has been the way of things for a century plus. she can wave away all that frivolity and finally have a real conversation with herself about something real and true, something only time could tell her. admit to herself that the new sparkle, that dazzle, I'm not chasing it anymore, it's futile and i don't need it as much as i used to. and anyway my destroyer is already here. but when she finally arrives that fateful day to break down my door, i'll be sure to leave it unlocked for her.

#it's just sooooooo gorgeous and stunning and i LOVE a quiet closer #a meditative closer #god AARON I LOVE YOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU #i wanna cry but also hug her but also smile proudly at her like yeahhhhh #it's one of the only songs on her that sounds like it came from a 34 year old woman aldkfjsdlfkjsdkflj #which you can say that's mean but it's just true! #she's a mess in many ways but this is something she cannot run from

[dirtytransmasc]

TW: VERY DARK AND SUICIDE ATTEMPT (kind of)

Prompt :

He was six

Norm found him with his wrist slit

“Why’d you do this kiddo?”

“I wanted to get rid of the demon blood”

Jakes reaction

Neytiri stitched him up with an unreadable expression

IF THIS MAKES YOU UNCOMY

I UNDERSTAND, PLEASE DO NOT MAKE THIS IF ITS TO DARK!!!😭

oh my fucking god... it hurts so bad, but its so good. I love dark angst, there aren't many places I won't go, so have no worries anon.

head the trigger warnings above, I don't get super graphic, but I don't skid over any details either. disclaimer, mama!neytiri brain worms are liquefying my brain, so this is a little (a lot) neytiri-centric, cause I can't help it, its the worms I swear.

also, there are like 0 resources on na'vi medicine, so I'm just fucking winging it man, I'm gonna pull some shit out of my literal ass and we're all gonna have to just be ok with that. ~~~

norm wishes he could say he was shocked, surprised that this little boy wanted to hurt himself, let alone went through with it. he should have been gutted, more than he was at least, angry, put off, something. but not that its happened, he saw it from a mile away, he should have noticed, should have stopped it. all he felt was guilt, burning up his heart and knotting up his stomach as he put pressure on spiders tiny wrists, holding his lulling body in his arms. spider was just a kid, a baby, but he's muttering about 'getting rid of demon blood' and 'not belonging' and it being 'better off' if he was gone. it was somehow worse in his childish wording, his perfect innocence and naivety only just beginning to crack as the pain in his little chest began to swell.

it had been the odd quietness from spider's 'room' back in the cave marui's that alerted him to something being wrong. spider was quiet, in a way; when he was out playing with the kids he was loud, laughing, face filled with light and joy, even if something cold still glinted in his eyes. but when he was on his own, having been left behind or told off by some adult, human or na'vi alike, for getting in the way, he would sulk off to the little marui by the shack. but even if he would sit amongst himself, playing with the few figures someone had put time aside to make, attempting to weave a new piece of jewelry or basket, mending the sad little knife he wore on his side. he was always doing something, could be heard humming or sniffling, the sound of his knife on the wetstone or the clunking of wooden figures on each other were a constant. so when norm heard nothing but silence, his gut ticked up, the hair on his neck bristled, his legs carried him much farther they would on the average day until he was staring at spider and his little bloody arms and his little bloody knife and his sad little eyes.

it took only a split second for norm to come back to himself, to rush and pick the boy up before he had enough 'sense' to try and back away (spider never wanted trouble, never wanted to get in the way or be a burden, the fact he didn't try and hide worried norm more then it would of if he did, which was even more concerning in its own right).

he just held spider as tight as he could, his big blue hands easily covering his human wrists, trying to think of what he should do. he should say something, other then "its ok" but what does he say? what do you say to a six-year-old who just tried to kill himself, no, no, "get rid of the demon blood" coursing through his veins?

he wasn't going to lecture him, spider made it clear why he did it, comfort wasn't his strong suit. he could just look at his puffy little cheeks, one side of his mask blooded as he had attempted to wipe his cheek on instinct. so he just repeated a mantra of "I'm here" and "it's ok" and "your ok" until he reached the infirmary, trying to prtend he didn't feel spider slipping further and further away with each passing second.

in the flash of just a few seconds fueled by adrenaline alone, he knew he regretted everything. he was spider's caretaker sure, but he was no father, jake wasn't either, and the boy didn't have a single maternal figure to his name. no mother to kiss his brow at night or admire his accomplishments. he had no one, not truly, and norm allowed to happen, was not only complicit in it, but played a direct role in it. now he may not get to make that up, may not be given the chance to step up, to fix this.

he carried spider to the infirmary hut, knowing he would find someone, anyone, there who could help. part of him knew that mo'at had seen something in the child that brought some sort of pity from her, that maybe just this once, spider wouldn't be so alone in her presence.

when he entered the pod, he found mo'at showing neytiri something, explaining different herbs to her, though he didn't pay enough attention to it the lesson to pull out any identifying features of the herbs in question. both turned to look at him when they heard his rapid breathing, their gaze then shifting to the bloody boy in his arms, the ever-so-faint fogging of the glass that made up most of his exopack, and the ghostly parlor of spider's skin.

"put him down," mo'at commanded, before norm could even speak, clearing her pallet in an instant, "what happened to him?" her voice was firm, almost knowing.

"he...cut himself...intentionally...I don't know how long ago, but I found him in his pod alone and brought him right here."

"intentionally?" neytiri hissed, removing the boy from his arms when he couldn't get himself to comply with the order and holding him so she could listen to the weakening beat of his heart. she tied turniquotes around his upper forearm with the strands of clothing handed to her by her mother, absent-mindedly rocking the little thing where he rested held between her free-er arm and her chest, when the last bits of his consciousness were directed to fussing, no doubt from the pain. she couldn't bring herself to bind them too tight, just enough to control the bleeding, her hands and a bit of cloth could handle the rest.

(mo'at almost lectured her, but she saw that look in her daughter's eyes and knew it would be pointless, a mama bear gets what she wants)

norm had never seen the protective fire in her eyes, normally directed at her children, burn so bright for spider in the last few years she had known him. it scared him, it felt so unnatural that the very gaze he had learned to trust in most cases, froze him like a deer in headlights.

but that question, the tone of it, made his gut sink. how did he explain this, spider was just a baby, and he had slit his own wrists. that on its own was gut-wrenching, but the reason? Eywa have mercy.

"he said... he said he wanted to get rid of his demon blood, so he... he used his own knife and cut his wrists... its a common form of self harm back on earth, to cut yourself, but I don't even know how he would know to do that, why he would do it... I know why, but..." norm felt defeated. he should have seen something.

the look on neytiri's face made him want to tuck his tail between his legs and run off. she placed spider down as gently as one could, face scrunched up with pain and anger as she keeps pressure on both of spider's wrists.

"get jake, he is with the young hunters." she spoke quietly, her voice almost bitter. she didn't know if she blamed him, if she was angry with him, she barely understand how to feel about spider harming himself. all she knew is that he had just given her some of the most heartwrenching news she had heard in her life, so he was getting some of her mirth. norm nodded, racing off with his tail tucked between his legs, only hesitating to take another worried glance at the boy.

neytiri took a deep breath before turning to her mother. "he will need stitches, right?" she had never dealt with an injury quite like this before, the conscious effort in the wound made it clean and to the point, unlike a wound in battle. it strived to do quick, efficient damage, and now, either because she could barely let herself think straight, or because she genuinly didn't know, she couldn't think of the best way to treat it.

"yes, my daughter, but that is the least of his worries. he cut a large vein, those are very difficult to mend, stopping the bleeding will be difficult. he's already lost quite a bit of blood, so we need to be careful. the best thing would be to put a root paste to help clot the bleeding, wrap it up, and stitch it later." mo'at turned to her morter and pestle as she spoke, mixing different herbs, berries, and roots into a dark brown, almost purple, paste.

neytiri, nodded absently, while she picked through the basket at her side for bundles of lumped fibre and soft cloth to hold against his arms. luckily for him, while he did manage to do some damage and with the help of the tourniquets, one wrist had already stopped bleeding a fair bit, and the other was manageable.

in the silence of the hut, her mother working quietly behind her, turning every once and a while to check his breathing or giving her a tincture to clean his wounds with, neytiri was left to think.

demon blood.

he had done this because of the words she and so many spat at the sight of him. he had tried to rid himself of his sins, the sins of his father, the sins of his people; but were they really his to begin with? what had he done, in his six years of life, to have earned the hate he received? was the blood he carried in his veins enough to justify pushing a child to this?

no, she decided, no it was not.

seeing him so pale and lifeless in norms arms woke something in her, something deep in her gut, maternal rage coursing through her with something vicious, and even if she didn't deserve it after all she had done to him, pushed him to do, her heart was attempting to claim his as her own, and she didn't know what to do with that feeling. then she realized, that the maternal drive that prowled in her stomach like a thanator ready to pounce, not only saw the world as a threat, but saw her as a threat.

her mother handed her the salve and she was grateful for anything to do to take her mind off of the few revelations she managed to have while waiting.

"put more of the salve where the bleeding is stronger, then wrap it tight, be careful to not make it so tight it takes off his hand." the older woman guided, watching over her daughters work.

neytiri scooped it out bit by bit, slowing rubbing it onto the wounds while her mother blotted away the blood, her ears dipping whenever the boy his with pain or tried to pull away. she just wanted to make him better, to take him up into her arms and tell him it was alright like she would if he was one of her own children. but she knew she couldn't, he would wake up and see the monster who filled his little mind with such awful thoughts of himself, that he would be just as scared of her as he always was, and that she could bring him no comfort. so he was extra gentle as she finished off the paste, and held him like delicately as she wrapped the bandage around his wrists, gushing him gently each time he cried out, combing back his hair when she felt she was finished.

then jake came barreling in, breaking up the delicate silence that for a single second allowed her to believe it was just a normal day, that the new found fantasy of just being able to mother this child was true, that allowed spider to lay in peaceful sleep with her shawl over him. norm was trying to hush him, before he woke the baby, but there was no stopping jake, not when his face was full of pain and anger, looking as if he would plow down a titanothere just to get to spider.

neytiri knew jake had taken to spider more than he had let on, but the beast in her belly screamed that he hadn't done enough either, that he didn't earn the right to worry either. but she hushed it, knowing neither had the right to claim anything, not even over each other.

"ma'jake, quiet, or you will wake him and... he will be in pain. so let him sleep while he can," she attempted to soothe quietly, resisting every urge to just scoop him up when jakes loud entry did in fact stir him.

jake sat across from her, his hand resting on spider's chest, feeling the soft rise and fall of the boy's chest. "did he really?" he asked, eyes begging for her to tell him it wasn't true. she knew he would much rather hear of a freak accident over this, but she couldn't give him that mercy.

"yes, it would seem so." her voice was short, worn, despite barely saying a word this whole time.

jake crumpled a little, much more on the inside then he attempted to let show on the outside. neytiri was used to it, jake dealing with it all on the inside, bottling it up till he burst. she placed her hands over his, both of them being reassured by spider's breathing.

"but he is still here, we can and will help him. we will make sure he never feels this way again. I will right my wrongs, I will treat him as he has always deserved, and I hope one day he can forgive me. you will do the same. for now we just have to wait." she spoke gently, still worried about waking spider. she was partly talking to herself, making the promise she had worked her mind to final, she swore it on eywa. she saw jakes eyes finally close, knocking the tears he had been fighting to keep in down his cheeks.

he nodded, slumping into a lazy, defeated-looking, criss-cross position, talking spider's little hand in his, using the wet cloth from mo'at to clean the blood from his finger, the calloused palms of his hands, his muscle-toughened arms.

jake was no stranger to this, to harming yourself, even if he had never taken a blade to his wrists. trying to imagine that pain in such a little body terrified him. how was he supposed to wrap his head around little spider, the stray cat amongst the village, always smiling and laughing, always trying to help everyone, always up in trees or tussling with his kids, his blonde hair like streaks of the sun running about the village, battling such demons. he tried to imagine what he must have been feeling when he took his knife to his wrist. was he scared? relieved? confused? was he desperate and looking for a way out?

no, no norm said that spider wanted to get rid of his "demon blood" which as somehow more nauseating. it was their faults, him, norm, neytiri, The People. they hurt this child or they let it happen. they expected him to take every glare, every spit of acid, everything he was forced to endure, and to still remain a happy child. jake never once stopped to think what effect that may have on him, and now he was paying for it.

he ached, spider was small, he could fit in jakes hands even at 6 years old. he was drowning in neytiri's shawl even if on her, it would barely cover her upper arms, he had just started fitting his exopack a little less than a year ago. he was still just a baby, and they almost let his life end. had norm not found him, he would be dead, still and cold in his makeshift marui, in a pool of his own blood. the image that accompanied the thought that flashed in his made him feel sick. even with all that he denied feeling about the boy, no matter how hard he tried to push him away, no matter what he let him go through, the thought of spider dying, especially like that, alone and scared and in pain, terrified him. to have a child die for any preventable reason, was a disgrace on The People, especially their chief of all people.

chief.

he should have been the example. he should have led his people to find love for a defenseless child who wanted only to be loved and accepted. he had failed.

he let a finger caress the side of spiders face, along the edge of spider's mask, lightly pulling at the curly baby hairs that rested there,

"will he be alright?" he didn't know who he was asking, norm or mo'at. both would have very different opinions, norm more literal, mo'at more spiritual. he didn't know which he wanted.

"physically, yes. he is lucky, his blade was simple, his hand faltered, and he didn't seem to have a death wish. he didn't do too much damage, its manageable. emotionally jakesuli? time will tell." mo'at was the one to speak, the look on norms face spoke the his fear of setting neytiri off like he almost had earlier.

neytiri looked to her mother with a pain expression, her tail beating nervously where is laid near spiders head, ears still folded back.

"his mind is plauged with pain and desperation, things no child should even be aware of. he was driven to harm himself, in ways that will be permanent. it will be our actions going forward that determine his future. I fear if we do not undo the damage now, we will lose him in the years to come... what I fear more and that the damage has been done and cannot be undone. we can only hope for the former/"

neytiri damn near let out a cry, turning from her mother, eyes clenched as tears welled up in them. she found jakes arms, both leaning over spider like a makeshift shelter. just like they should have his whole life, they should have shielded him from the world, protected him from the hate of others. spider stirred once more, and this time jake couldn't resist the urge to scoop him up.

spider looked up at both of them, his little eyes tired and glossy, something small and painful in his gaze. he began to wiggle out of jakes hold, balling up nervously, but when neytiri grazed fingers through his hair, he stopped. this was the one thing he had ever wanted, deep down. not to be accepted, not to be one with the people, not even to be na'vi. he just wanted to be held, loved, by a mother, any mother. with his judgment too clouded by all his emotions, the desperation, the pain, even the blood loss, and maybe and even simpler reason being just being a child; spider let her hold him. he couldn't think about her years of neglect, the harsh words, and harsher glares, not in that moment, that could come later. right now, he needed a mother, and neytiri was willing, so he sunk into her hold, welcoming the embrace of either parent.

the road to spider's recovery would be long and hard. jake and neytiri had a lot to make up for, to apologize for, holding onto their guilt for years as they waited for spider to reach an age were their apologies would actually mean something to him. he would have to be watched constantly, habits would be broken, tears would be cried. things would never be 100%, there would always scars and phantom pain, but that was ok.

~~~

a note for my regulars; I'm back, maybe sorta kinda. I've hit a rough patch with my adhd, I can't do thoughts, or social interaction really, but I'm starting to bounce back, so more regular posting may return shortly.

#I have such a hard time writing norm for whatever reason #which is why I found every excuse to not have to write dialogue for him #sorry norm <3 #also #I'm a bitch for the “neytiri having her eyes opened to motherhood/mothering spider in response to him getting hurt/sick” trope #its got me in a literal chokehold #its so good and so angsty #and neytiri's mama bear instinct vs logic fighting to the death #shes having a mild crisis #more like major. but potato patato #spider socorro #miles socorro #miles spider socorro #neytiri #jake sully #norm spellman #mo'at #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water

[lovelyflowers-world]

Remember Me

Angsty angst angst

Tw: mentions of death

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Remember me

A girl of only the age of four sat on a man's lap while he brushed her hair and sang her a small tune it's only safe to assume it was her father as things seemed happy and calm. Well they say there's calm before a storm

Though I have to say goodbye

As the man stood with the girls in his arms to set her back into bed she didn't know this would be the last time she'd ever see her sweet father. He laid her oh so gently onto her bed pulling the covers just under her chin he stroked her hair and kissed her head

"You know I'll always love you dearly my little flame"

The girl nodded her head with a big smile on her face she loved her father more than there was stars in the sky and nothing could have changed that

"I love you too!"

The man smiled sadly at his daughter knowing this would be the last he'd ever see her it pained the man to leave his princess all alone to not be able to see her grow to a beautiful young woman but it whats done is done.

"Good night my little flame I'll see you again soon"

The girl giggled at her fathers choice of words and wished him a good night and as the man shut her door he was brought to tears he was never an emotional man but this hurt him deep to his core knowing he'll never hold his dear flame close to his heart ever again

Don't let it make you cry

The next morning when the small girl couldn't find her dad and saw her mother looking at her in pity it clicked in her head that she'd never see her dearest father again

"daddy's gone..?"

Her voice crack and big eyes filled with tears brought her mother to her knees to hug her only daughter oh so tight

"(Y/n) I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry!"

For even if I'm far away, I hold you in my heart

That was twelve years ago that little girl is now sixteen and a counselor at camp half blood one would think she despised her father but she could never blame him he was a god after all he wasn't going to stick around forever. Plus she had a pretty cool brother thanks to him

"(Y/n) get in your own bed!!"

"BUT I GOT A NIGHTMARE NICO!"

I sing a secret song to you each night we are apart

As (Y/n) laid on the floor quietly singing the song her father sang to her when she was small she sighed and looked out the window watching as everyone walked around happily conversing with one another a few passed waving to her and she gladly waved back.

Remember me

One would think the girl was happy with her life she had everything she could ever need but it seemed the lack of a father seemed to eat her alive she looked back into her cabin and sighed sadly

"Do you ever think of me dad?..probably not"

She got up and walked out with the biggest smile on her face and went to sword training.

Each time you hear a sad guitar

Now we see our protagonist alongside Percy Jackson and Nico di angelo fighting off a monster. The protagonist giving it her all to make sure her companions get out alive even if it cost her life. As she looked to check on her brother's state she felt a sharp pain in her gut and she looked down she saw the red seeping out her shirt. Just then her brother and Percy seemed to be celebrating their success.

"Guys.."

They looked over in time to see her fall to her knees the pain becoming unbearable

Know that I'm with you the only way that I can be

They run to her side pleading her to hold on a bit longer that they'd find a way to help her. They couldn't lose her not now when they've done their hardest when they were almost home. Tears were shed and she laughed and cupped her brothers cheek

"it's alright..I'll be with dad now I'll be okay.."

Just then a figure appeared over them towering and as they looked up he slowly took the girl out of the boys arms and held her close humming her a oh so familiar tune holding her head to his chest he nodded to the two boys and walked away

Until you're in my arms again

"It's time to go home now little flame"

The girl smiled and closed her eyes

"Okay daddy.."

And with that she took her final breaths

Remember me

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A/N

heyyyyyyyy do you all still love me?

I love you guys <3

#hades percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson fandom #percy jackson fanfiction #percy jackson x reader #angst #horrible ass angst #hades #oneshot #percy jackson show #wattpad #wattpad fanfiction

[wetcatspellcaster]

Not sure if this is 500 words but this section omg. dying to know what Astarion was thinking when he had seemingly won, only to get stabbed lol

Rosalie pulled back from Astarion, who seemed oblivious and content, eyes shuttered and half-lidded with bliss. She wondered if he’d even noticed his charm was broken.

It soon became clear, as she plunged the makeshift stake into his chest.

His eyes snapped open as he cried out in pain, then looked down at his front in open incredulity. Rose pulled back her hand, and then leaned into it fully, jamming her whole shoulder behind it and pushing the chair leg in deeper, for good measure. It went further this time, the rib now successfully bypassed, and the sound that came from him was animalistic, as she felt blood begin to coat her knuckles. She decided that was enough, and immediately started backing away, onto the side of the room with the fireplace.

“Gods!” Astarion shrieked, “what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me?” She demanded, humiliation and anger and unbridled fury making her nearly blind, as she stumbled over her own feet. “Me? You kidnap me, you take my magic from me, and then you place me under a charm? How is that any different from being Feebleminded, you absolute, wretched cunt!”

Astarion tried to get out of his chair, but couldn’t seem to manage it. It was as if the stake was a leaden weight, pinning him in place like a bug. Rosalie made her way backwards, not taking her eyes off him as he reached down, and tugged the chair leg out of himself with a low, pained groan. It was coated in blood, as was the shirt, but only by a few inches. She hadn’t reached the heart - not that it mattered. Again, that wasn’t how the Ascendent would die.

“I really don’t like these tedious, vulgar fights we keep having,” he said in a low voice, tossing it aside. “But you keep leaving me no choice.”

Between one blink, and the next, he was moving.

But the stake had slowed him down enough to do its job. Rosalie had reached the fireplace.

Astarion grabbed hold of her arm, making her cry out in pain.

“I love you,” he said, “don’t you understand that? What it means for me, to even admit it? You say you love me too, so why are you so intent on prolonging both of our suffering? Why do you have to keep making things so difficult?”

Rose picked up the iron poker resting next to the grate. No time or spells to heat it, but oh well. Blunt force trauma would do.

She swung round, and backhanded Astarion across the face with it. He cried out, which meant it was somewhat effective, so she did it again, this time cracking him across his shoulder. The metal dented a little, but he also went reeling.

“Fuck you,” she seethed, breathlessly. “You take my magic from me? Well, fuck you. I don’t fucking need it. You are going to wish I did. Loving me will suck for you. Go fuck yourself.”

Thank you for playing!!

What if the only intelligent thing I had to say was just.... >:)

Anyway, what was Astarion thinking? Just generally? What an idiot.

But in more serious commentary - I've said this a few times in comments, but in my eyes Ascended!Astarion is a Charisma 10 man who's only company is now people he literally controls who exist to please him, and mortals he doesn't really get bc he is Other to them, but who he can charm to get his way. I wonder how many 'normal' conversations he has these days, where people aren't actively trying to please him or appease him and are scared at him or are just magically coerced into compliance, and how rusty his skills of actual relationship maintenance and even just social interaction have gotten. I also doubt whether he recognises what a 'normal' conversation, with all the inconveniences of anxiety and potential disagreement, even looks like anymore, or if he does see it ultimately as an exercise with frustration that could easily be bypassed by the tools at his disposal.

I think he also feels entitled to use those tools, as all he's actually bypassing is just the boring mores of social etiquette, more than anything else.

All this to say, I genuinely think he gets what he wants out of this charm: a productive conversation, where he gets straight answers to his questions and no evasion.

And you're right! He does think he's won, because he hasn't actually done anything 'wrong' or 'evil', and when you force this woman to be honest, she tells him she loves him! They've gotten to the heart of the issue, finally! Everything else was just posturing, or saving face, or morality, which will be overcome in time... now that they're being honest with each other. And aren't all good, healthy relationships built on honesty, first and foremost?

(Also in his mind, Feeblemind is permanent, but all of the measures here - the braceleters, the charm - are just temporary things that he 'knows' he'll stop using eventually, once they're over this little snag in their relationship. I extrapolated this attitude out from the way that the Ascendent threatens Spawn!Tav in-game with 'these are things I could do, but I won't ever need to so long as you're good!' With the break up, that changes to 'these are things I have to do right now, but I won't always need to, once everything has worked out..."

Idk, I just think that the way you show the man that he's taken the violating nature of his powers for granted and forgotten how invasive they can be is... with violence.

In terms of what he's thinking once they are fighting, and the dialogue I wrote here, in particular "why are you so intent on prolonging both of our suffering?" Astarion of the game is probably well-versed in overcoming other people's reticence and shame in his seductions, right? And if someone plays hard to get, he's also got the tools to overcome that. But I think he probably very much resented that part of his work (it made him more culpable bc he had to be the one to push, he also probably saw a lot of people 'faking' playing hard to get and saw a lot of it as an act just as tawdry and shameful as what he was doing, etc). So that frustration is plain here... this woman has already told him she loves him. They were in love in the past. So whatever qualms or refusals she has left is probably just fake, to look like a good person, etc. and it's denying both of them (but most importantly him) the only thing he actually wants. So I imagined a lot of frustration at the actual social etiquette of seduction bubbles up here, when he's now supposed to have to do that anymore, coupled with a temper tantrum, coupled with being STABBED.... YEAH. He's angry and not a little fucked up.

And of course, Rosalie's behaviour is perfectly justified, bc she's just been violated and forced to admit some embarrassing things. I actually think embarrassment and shame is driving her, as that's where the anger response comes from - it's easier to be mad at the violation, than examine anything else, much less what's just been said.

And she's certainly not going to examine the emotions she's feeling with that man stood in front of her. (That's why she examines it with Shadowheart later, instead)

She was also just so fucking terrified at not having magic. I tried to sublimate it in the writing of the chapter, because it's from her POV and she's being unreliable in the sense that she's trying to hide that fear from herself to avoid feeling helpless and powerless... but hopefully the final thing she says in the quote you've sent shows that that was the biggest violation all along.

I'm very proud of "loving me will suck for you." I think that's both very sexy of Rosalie, and very sexy of me, tbh.

As for the actual action of this scene, I don't have anything deep to say, I hadn't staked Astarion yet in any timeline so I thought it would be funny if that happened. And then the iron poker was just there for some catharsis for Rose, more than anything.

DVD commentary ask

#asks #lovely words from lovely people #dvd commentary ask #ask games #wip: pieces still stuck in your teeth

[greenygal]

Due South s1 recs, part 5:

Obviously there will be some overlap for the last three eps; I sorted the recs according to careful and considered judgment whatever seemed like a good idea.

Victoria's Secret, Part 1

Of all the things that hurt my heart about “Victoria’s Secret,” Fraser letting Ray down about the party is not least of them, and so I begin with Ray:

On a Cloth Untrue, with a Twisted Cue (Loose Affiliation, Part One), by spuffyduds (Fraser/Ray V, pre-slash)

Never again, by Silvina

Telling Stories, by Luzula (Fraser/Victoria)—Victoria tells herself stories about how else her life might have gone.

Come With Me, by Zabira (Fraser/Victoria)—In prison, Victoria remembers how it was at Fortitude Pass. Long, vivid, and painful.

Fade to White, by dance_across (Fraser/Victoria)—Victoria ties Fraser to his bed. Fraser isn’t saying no.

Safe, by ButterflyGhost (Fraser/Victoria)—Fraser is in her arms, and he can’t remember when he’s felt so safe.

***

Victoria's Secret, Part 2

Icebound Stream, by sisabet—A classic vid about the passion and violence of Fraser and Victoria’s relationship, also known as The One With The Polar Bears.

What Victoria did after Fraser fell and the train pulled away:

Five Minutes After, by Shayheyred

The Woman in Seat Thirty-Eight, by Melanie Mitchell

Invictus, by the_secret_history

When the Ice Cracks and You Fall Through, by Ride_Forever—I just love the imagery here.

Still Love, by xtricks (Fraser/Ray V, one-sided)—"He didn't even know who he was praying for. He was surprised the name of God didn't burn his mouth because if there were a damned soul walking tonight, it was him.”

Perfect, by Melanie M—Frannie slowly realizes that something is very wrong.

Alternate takes:

Dysmas, by MSSalieri—Fraser went with Victoria, and that’s all I will say.

Caroline's Vigil, by Gloria Lancaster—Fraser’s father gives him two visions of a world where he left. The vision of Ray has stuck with me for a long time.

Turns of Tempest, by Luzula (Fraser/Victoria)—Victoria puts aside her plan to betray Fraser. In the end, it doesn’t help.

Smeared, by belmanoir—An observation about fingerprints.

Welcome, by belmanoir—Fraser comes to the Vecchio house for the first time after VS.

Taken in Stride, by Brigantine—Short, but I am intrigued by the comparison of Ray’s parents’ marriage and Fraser’s relationship with Victoria.

She recited a poem, by gardnerhill—Sometime post-VS, Fraser’s been shot again, and as Ray works desperately to save him, the only poem he has is a prayer.

***

Letting Go

And Then Victory, by dance_across—Frannie sits with Fraser while he’s unconscious.

The Human Touch, by Voyagerbabe—A child in the hospital wants to know what happened to Fraser.

Gone, by spuffyduds—Ray hears from Victoria.

Letting Go, by MirrorMasque (Fraser/Ray V, one-sided)—There are things Ray won’t tell Fraser about what happened. Dark.

Longer Ray-POV looks at the aftermath of Victoria’s Secret and the events of Letting Go:

A Single Bullet, by crosscountry07

In Between Time, by sheron

Such a Pathetic Pair (Loose Affiliation, Part 2), by spuffyduds (Fraser/Ray V, pre-slash)

And that’s all! Thanks, everyone, it’s been fun sharing!

#due south #ds30below

[deanwinchesterpregnant]

jeremiah 8:20

– for @wincestwednesdays prompt: blood

Deanna’s never been the best at keeping track of her period, though in her defense her cycle has never exactly been regular. There’s always something – constantly swapping between fake insurances, going on and off the pill. A poor diet. Stress. Etcetera.

But in Detroit, she knows it’s been too long. A couple months, maybe three. She can’t remember. Can’t remember the last time she’d woken up with stains in her panties or the last time Sam had looked up from between her legs to say uh, I think it’s time to stock up on tampons, Dee. Everything in the past couple months has run together between God and the Devil and the angels who want to kill them and keep them alive and she just can’t remember jack shit.

She can’t even remember when this might have happened. Her and Sammy haven’t screwed much since she'd died and come back again, but clearly their sex life hasn’t suffered enough for them to not have fucked raw at least once these past few months.

She doesn’t bother to tell anybody. Bobby, Cas – they have enough on their plates, and Deanna’s just told her little brother to go ahead and offer himself up to Satan. Sorry, Dad. Couldn’t keep Sammy safe. Couldn’t keep him from knocking me up, either.

Deanna can’t have a baby, no matter how many secret domestic fantasies she harbors. Holding it, rocking it to sleep and passing out in a handmade chair. Sammy coming to find her and lifting the baby from her arms and putting it in the crib all gentle. Going days on not even her requisite 4 hours of beauty sleep. In another life, maybe. She can’t have a baby and she especially can’t have a baby with Sam, so maybe it doesn’t matter.

“Did you know?” Deanna asks Cas, driving away from Lawrence all those hours later. Maybe days later. It’s all run together; she’s doing 80 in a 55 easy, and the trees that line the highway pass as nothing more than brown-grey-green blurs.

“Did I know what?” Castiel asks. He won’t look at her and well, that’s just fine. Her eyes are on the road and her grip on the wheel is so tight that she can feel all the folds and impressions in the leather making divots on her palm. She’s not looking at anybody.

“Don’t play dumb, Cas. That ain’t you.”

Castiel sighs, and then he’s so silent that she thinks maybe he’s gone, the bastard. Never was very good at goodbyes.

“It wasn’t a choice.”

“Huh?”

“When I healed you,” Castiel says. His breathing is even; if he had a heartbeat Deanna is sure it would be steady. She feels like her whole esophagus is going to be ripped out from her throat any second, can feel a wave threatening to crash behind her eyelids, and here he is with his even cadence and his abiding faith in God. “When I healed you, it – I healed everything. I didn’t get to pick and choose.”

“Right,” she says. The mile markers and exit signs pass too fast for her to read them. “Right, I knew that.”

Castiel's voice sounds so gentle when he says: “Lucifer had beat you nearly to death. It was already dead, Deanna.” She hates it.

And aren't these things supposed to end in blood, anyway? Shouldn’t she have had this one last thing, one last moment of watching a part of her brother bleed from her, one last bit of Sam to have and to hold and to lose? Shouldn’t she have felt that singular pain, sharp in her gut, heavy in her cunt? Shouldn't she have bled for all those months she went without? It shouldn't have ended in nothing but a touch to the forehead. Everything she’s ever had, all taken away by God; fucking God and the Devil and all the angels who want to keep her alive. She’s not sure there are any left who want her dead, and maybe she wishes there were.

“Well, that’s just bullshit,” she says. Castiel doesn’t point out how thick her voice sounds. He doesn’t point out how it cracks over the sharp punch of the shit. With a flutter of wings, he’s gone. It doesn’t matter. She can’t have a baby, and she especially can’t have a baby with Sam. She’ll go live this apple pie life because that’s what Sammy wanted, and she’ll do it with somebody else’s kid.

#'oh spike wrote something about pregnancy? let's all pretend to be SHOCKED' #wincest #wincest wednesday #femchesters #cw miscarriage #cw suicidal thoughts #idk...periods and pregnancy stuff?? i don't know ask to tag lol #i couldn't decide between trans dean and cis deanna for AGES but i've had girl!dean on the brain recently sorry #spike words #ww ficlet

[silentmoths]

As Fragile as a Brick wall

Masterlist||First||Previous||Next

It's me, pulling my ass out of writers block hell to stress write a chapter because everything in my life is in boxes and I hate it.

Chapter 6: You really thought asking her out to dinner was a good idea, huh bud?

Zhongli x Afab (fem pronoun) Reader

NSFW elements in later chapters

Multi-chapter, Royal AU, angst, mentions of death, eventual fluff, eventual smut, hurt/comfort (Wonderful header image made by the wonderful @ainescribe)

You had definitely cracked a rib.

The blooming bruise, the pain when you breathed in, moved too quickly, or gods help you, sneeze? It was a dead giveaway. 

You were no damsel though, funnily enough, your ex-fiance had once shown you how he went about bandaging himself up after a particularly rough tussle with the captain of his own guard. So with little time on your hands, that's what you do. Strapping your torso in a way that prevented too much movement, but was also easily enough hidden beneath your clothing for the evening.

Between your thigh and your rib, half of you didn’t particularly want to attend this dinner with the king…but there was a part of you, that scared, lonely teenager who had lost her rock to lean on, that needed to know.

You stubbornly hide your limp as you make your way to the dining room. When was the last time this room had even seen use? You weren’t too sure. Not since your mother had died… none of you could stomach being in the same room as one another lest insults begin to fly. 

Seems even Zhongli’s touch had blown away the dust and dreary that had long since settled here. Dingy greys are replaced with warm reds, rich golds and warm, soft velvets. The room was…inviting, for the first time in many years. The table is set for only two, it seems he wanted to speak with you in confidance, though you had somewhat hoped that your place would be at the opposite end of the table, no such luck. One place set at the head, and the other to the left. 

He wasn’t kidding when he said he’d ordered old favourites. Roasted duck and candied orange, root vegetables, stews, the kitchens freshest rolls and hand-churned butter, smells from your childhood that flood your senses and make you feel warm and soft. Zhongli looks up from the scroll he had been examining and smiles, warm, bright and hopeful. 

“I’ll admit…I’m surprised you came…” He murmurs as you slowly sink into your seat with a slow, quiet exhale from your nose; like hell you were about to show weakness, no matter how badly your torso throbbed beneath the bandages. “But I’m glad… You must have many questions.” 

“Well you’re certainly not wrong.” You grunt, occupying yourself by washing back a flagon of mead, hoping the drink would dull something, anything.

“Shall I start from the beginning?” He asks, his warm smile and kind gaze never once leaving you, even as he takes a bite of his dinner.

“Well, I’d assume that would be the logical option.” You know you’re being short with him…but considering, well, everything, you felt like you at least had that right.

Zhongli nods, taking another slow bite of his food.

“It was the day your father started torturing innocent civilians…” he begins, lacing his fingers together as he stares deeply into the cup of red wine before him, watching his reflection distort back at him. “I had known for many months at that point that your father had truly begun to lose himself…but that day…something in his eyes…any semblance of the man he used to be…gone.” “You say that as if my father was ever a good man.” you reply, trying to recall any fond memories you had of the man…scant after the birth of your twin brothers. “I never said he was…but there comes a point in one's life where you can learn to ignore some of the atrocities…but then he reached a point where I could no longer…” Zhongli sighs, “I began searching for ways to dethrone him peacefully…but anyone who could potentially hold such power was so afraid of his wrath…if not his, then his sons…even the archbishop proved useless; and I as one man could not overthrow him.” “So you left.” you spit “you abandoned your kingdom-” “I had not intended to.” He pushes, letting one hand fall to the table, lightly brushing against your own before you pull it away with a sharp look “An opportunity arose and I took it…but I had never intended to abandon the kingdom…abandon you like that, your highness.”

“Well you did.” You hiss quietly “you abandoned this kingdom and left us…all of us…to the hands of my father… Do you know how powerless I was? Once you left I was nothing but a bargaining chip!” You feel the way your ribs throb in your torso and you grit your teeth, taking no small amount of pleasure in the way his eyes widen, it was nice to see his facade crack now and then. 

“You left… and he got worse, because he didn’t have you here to keep any sort of lead on him.”

Zhongli’s gaze falls again, unable to look you in the face as he considers his response, clasping his fingers together and unclasping them again. 

“At the time…it seemed as if my presence was no longer doing anything to hold him back… He became…hungry for more power, hungry to show your brothers what they would inherit…What atrocities he would allow them to commit… But when he began declaring war on everyone who would even look his way..I knew things had gone too far… you should eat before your food goes cold.”

You blink at him, and then down at your food before shooting him a look, he smiles in return, but you can see a hint of sadness behind it, a change form the usual warmth…for the first time, Zhongli looks…tired. The longer you look at his face, the more you notice it, the faint bags beneath his eyes, the tired haze…had it always been there? 

“On the field during that battle…I came across Xiao…a young child who was never meant to be on the field…but his knight commander demanded it…he was beaten and abused…but he fought like a god… when I killed his previous commander…he immediately bent his knee to me… it wasn’t long after that I met Ganyu… Ganyu actually hails from the outskirts of Liyue, but she and a small group of people had already begun to band together to do something about the king…I saw this group as my chance…and so.. “

“So you left…” you mutter, pushing a roasted potato around your plate. Were you angry at him? Or at yourself for being angry at him? It was hard to tell.

Zhongli nods with a soft noise “I had…never intended to remain away as long as I did… but if I stood any chance at overthrowing him… I needed to make sure those who came with me could handle it…Xiao is an excellent fighter, but at the time he lacked control, he could lose himself easily… I am just…grateful that when the night of the siege came… my old guard still remembered me…and you were not here to witness it.”

“Oh, what? So you could have forced me to marry you then and there?” you scoff, stabbing at the potato you had been victimising. “Glad I was away playing dignitary in Sneznhaya with the Tsaritsa and her overbearing little prince?”

“I-I would not have forced you to marry-” Zhongli starts, but you interject, slamming both hands onto the table as you haul yourself from your seat to glare daggers down at him.

“So you would hold my twin brothers hostage and trade them for my hand instead!?” You holler, dignity and grace be damned. “You knew I never once cared for their existence and yet you somehow thought I cared enough to trade myself for their freedom when you know damn well they never would have done the same.”

“I…I know.” he sighs, he remains where he is, staring up at you with amber eyes swimming with so many different emotions it’s hard to read. Regret? Grief? Sadness? “I will admit…I had, as Ganyu called it…an inflated ego-”

You snort a howling laugh, it was all you could do to keep the tears of pain at bay, even if you couldn’t quite pinpoint if it was physical or emotional pain that was making your eyes sting. “I’ll say! I’m sure I made such a wonderful impression, slicing those traitors heads right there on your brand new carpet.”

“You are angry-” “Angry? …Angry!?” You devolve into full on shouting, shouting loud enough that any attendants manning the doors eyes widen and they quickly shuffle from the room. “You have some fucking gall, your majesty.” you spit at him “thinking you could manipulate me into marrying you after you take the kingdom by force.” 

“I never wanted to manipulate you.” Zhongli rasps, actually shrinking back at the sheer force of your rage. “That was never my intention…”

“Then what was Zhongli!?” You seethe “You got what you wanted, the kingdom was yours, I never needed to be a part of your ideal! So why!?”

His next words fall from his lips without hesitation, his resolve strong as stone as he looks into your fiery gaze.

“Because I had made peace with my feelings for you many years ago, because I wanted to share this victory with you.”

“Wh-”

You blink and step back. It takes a moment to process, and when the words finally settle into your skin, they don't feel right. Too sincere, too honest.

Too true.

“Don't lie to me-” you rasp, but Zhongli shakes his head softly.

“I am not.” He tells you simply “Is it really all that surprising that after all the years I spent with you as your appointed knight did not culminate in my feelings towards you becoming more than just that? Your mother tried so very hard to keep you safe from the harsh hand of your father…and when she passed, I took that role without hesitation…because your smile was all I wanted.”

“S-stop it-” 

“If it were not for the fact your father already had plans, I would have asked him for your hand many years ago.”

“S-shut up!”

“You deserve to be a queen.” He presses, slowly rising to stand as you take a step back, emotionally? You had no idea where you were, why you were; but you needed to get away from him. “If anyone deserved to inherit this kingdom it was you.” 

No, nope, nuh-uh. You couldn’t take that…sincere look in his eyes. You hated him, you hated him for leaving, you somehow hated him even more for coming back. You hated his handsome face and his silky hair and his pretty eyes. You hated it.

Didn’t you?

“I know you do not trust me. Not after all I have done…but please…little love…let me earn it back from you…let me prove myself to you, like I did when I was assigned as your knight.”

Little love.

You hadn’t heard that name since your mother had died.

Words refuse to form on your tongue, you can’t think straight. Your ribs and leg are throbbing and he offers you his hand. You hated him.

You also happen to hate how the edges of your vision are beginning to blur, and how short your breath was becoming. Perhaps you had tied the bandages a little too tight, and only made them worse with your sudden movements.

You hate how Zhongli’s brow creases in concern. “Are you alright? You look whiter than a ghost-” his words are cut off when you take a step away and your knee buckles. Just like when you had fallen from the tree earlier in the day, he’s there to catch you, strong, but gentle arms wrap around you as you feel your world fading off for a short while, Zhongli’s wide, amber pools being the last thing you see.

At least he looked scared.

Serves him right.

Taglist: @stygianoir @meimeimeirin @ainescribe @dustofthedailylife @theheartshaker @rjssierjrie Want to be added to the list? shoot me an ask~

#Silentmothwrites #moth is not silent #moths fragile as a brick wall #Zhongli x reader #Zhongli x reader smut #(eventual)

[autocrats-in-love]

hows a hero and villain secretly dating, with hero accidentally hurting villain during a fight and its just grumpy awkwardness and apologising when they get back to their shared house?

"What the-"

Crack.

This is what the villain remembered from the fight. They slammed into a concrete wall, after being hit by the hero. Their body hit the hard surface and lit up with an overpowering blanket of pain. They felt something move in their shoulder. Their skull's impact made them tear up. They then crumpled to the floor, unable to sustain consciousness.

In the mostly black, blurry world of being half awake, they heard the panicked tones in the hero's voice. Their beloved. At one point warm arms, the wind in their face. A throbbing in their head.

And then, open eyes.

They stared up at the ceiling of their bedroom. Painted bright blue. It hurt their eyes in this state. They felt the hero's hand in their own. Their partner seemed to be sitting next to them, on their side of the bed. They wiggled their fingers and the hero squeaked.

"Oh gods." The hero scrambled so they were in the villain's eyeline.

They helped the villain sit up. Immediately, there was a barrage of questions.

"Are you okay? How's your head? I put ice on it. Does it hurt anywhere else? I think your ribs are okay, but there's a bruise-"

"Stop."

The villain clutched their forehead and held out a hand to cut off the hero.

"My head is killing me. Can you not right now?"

The villain weakly swung their legs over and put them on the ground. They pushed themselves up on the hero's shoulder. The hero tried to take the villain's arm. The villain pulled away, shuffling out of the room.

"Let me help you." The hero said, following the villain.

"Next time I want you to tackle me against a wall, I'll let you know." The villain would have snapped if they had the energy.

The hero swallowed.

The villain stopped at the kitchen. They turned around, facing their supposedly nice and pleasant significant other.

"Wow. You're not going to say sorry?"

The hero stuttered. "Of course I'm sorry."

"That wasn't an apology."

The villain went to the cupboard and pulled out the box of first aid things. They popped open the lid and grabbed a bottle of painkillers.

"Don't take too many. You should pace yourself."

The villain sighed, but shook out two pills. They went over to the sink. Behind them, they could hear the hero putting the box away. They grabbed a glass from the drying rack and pushed the sink tap with the back of their hand so they didn't drop the pills. They refused to speak to or look at the hero. The hero didn't want to talk first, but they hated awkward silence more.

"I'm really sorry I hurt you."

"There it is." The villain rasped.

The took the pills and downed the water. They then wiped their mouth, set their glass down, and turned around. They waited, putting their elbows on the sink. When the hero just stared and fiddled with their hands, they raised an eyebrow, which hurt a bit.

"Saying sorry is hard for me."

"Tell me why."

This was almost normal. The hero confessing something, the villain wanting to know every detail about it. Except the villain was having trouble keeping their eyes open, and the hero couldn't look in them anyway.

"Well, like, little things and all that are fine. But physically hurting someone? It's like a. . .a switch was flipped in my mind a long time ago. . .or something."

The villain sat down on the checkered kitchen floor. The hero did the same.

"What does that mean?"

"Like, when I hurt a criminal in a fight, I didn't feel bad. Not that I've done anything life threatening. But- remember when I broke your wrist?"

The villain did. It was maybe three years ago. They nodded.

"Well, I felt, like, almost no remorse. It was in the context of good defeating evil or smething."

"Oh. That stings."

"I know. I'm. . .sorry for breaking your wrist three years ago."

They cringed through it. The villain smiled. The hero noticed.

"Okay. I am so, so sorry for. . .slamming you against a wall. People were watching us fight, and I wanted to make it look realistic."

"You could have just told me to take a fall."

"I know. That's definitely what I should have done. What I did was. . ."

"Selfish?"

"I guess so, yeah. I wanted to look cool."

The pain medication finally felt like it was starting to work. The villain closed their eyes.

"So, how did you get me out?"

"Gave a speech about heroics, said I was carrying you off to a better tomorrow."

"It worked?"

"Yes, actually."

"Wow, people are dumb."

"Or they trust me."

"They shouldn't."

The hero snorted. They stared at each other. The thing about relationships is, the ice never stops refreezing. It's up to you to choose to keep breaking it.

"Want me to help you to the couch, give you ice cream, and let you watch whatever you want on Tv?"

"100%, yes."

#hero x villain #villain x hero #writeblr #snippet #not a prompt #ignore how I went on a mini hiatus there

[zapalimesvet]

I decided to drop here some of the Jane Uris lore because I changed her AGAIN.

Here is Jane beating up Henry some weeks before school ends:

1989 June. Derry, maine

She was going down the school stairs. Her shoes were cracking on the shinny floor that was usually covered with mud but today it’s gonna be dirty with Henry Bowers’ blood. Jane went through big green opening doors, went to to right and here she sees him, he was leaning his back on a locker along his dogs that were everywhere with him. She stopped right next to him, nobody was paying attention to her, but they loved to ignore her and act as she didn’t existed.

“Listen, stop doing things to Stanley or it won’t end good for you” she spook calmly but Henry was not in mood for kindness

“What? Stop putting yourself in my business”

He laughed her off loud. What the hell she thinks she can speak with him like that? With a boy who’s younger than her but whole school is scared of him? What the fuck she thinks about herself? That dirty girl?!?

“He’s my brother, leave him be” this was the last warning Jane could give him without punching him down on ground.

“Go away slut” Patrick yawned and smiled, more likely smile full of disgust. For Jane, Patrick always need to have last words. She gave him last look before paying again attention to Henry who’s stepping closer to her making her take steps back

“What will you do about it? Huh? I would break you with only one punch.” He rolled his eyes and again laughed. Kids slowly stopped making their way to classes and looked at Jane and Henry, they knew it’ll be big fight. They wouldn’t peel their eyes off of them until they’ll know what’s doing on. Richie was pushing kids out of his way along Bill and Eddie, Stanley. They saw how Jane threw her black Vans Backpack and jumped on Henry. Richie made little „ouch” when he saw how Jane hit Henry against metal lockers, he groaned in pain and rolled down next to Patrick who took steps away along with Belch and Victor. Henry felt backstabbed by them and will give them their own medicine later. With back pain he had chance to grab Jane by leg and made her slip down, hitting her back and head. He punched her into her nose. He didn’t cared she was a girl, she deserves it, she’s disgusting slut how Patrick says. Jane started to feel stronger, the pain went slowly away, she didn’t felt biggest pain when Henry punched her into stomach and he was stronger than her. She would say that god stands by her side.

“You go Jane!” Richie screamed, Patrick heard it and his face expression made Richie shiver and shut down. Now he knows that not only Henry bowers will get beaten up today. Jane grabbed his blond hair he had cutted into mullet and pulled it so hard some of his hair left on her sweaty hand. She smashed his head against shinny cold floor. Not only Henry’s head was bleeding but also his nose, he looked wasted.

Tears were flowing down Jane’s cheeks when she was standing up, her body was aching. The last kick between Henry’s legs finished him.

“Don’t you dare to land a hand on my brother ever again..and learn how to walk in heeled boots.” She scoffed in pain, grabbed her bag. Kids were still standing there, without words. Did just a girl put down Henry Bowers? She looked at so many kids that were looking at her, but something was off. A big shadow was standing totally in the back behind the kids, a person in Clown clothing, he was smiling and waving at her. Jane shook from goosebumps that formed on her back «it’s probably not real, I got badly hit in the head» she told herself and left to the green doors from the exit of school. In half of her way Patrick laughed, it was enough to tease her and made her turn to him. Jane groaned as she saw him smiling like he had won something. «Why is he always smiling?» she asked herself as she was walking back to him. She saw how Belch and Victor helped Henry to stand up on his aching legs.

„you want to?!?” Jane hissed on him

„god chill..” he scoffed

„Shut up playboy” Jane rolled eyes, she came back to him for nothing, just to be laughed off.

„Aw! You think I’m hot enough to be in playboy?”

„hot enough to burn in hell Hockstetter” she showed him middle finger before walking out the school, smashing doors closed.

I hope it’s good. I have so many scenarios written with pen in my notebook and I decided to start typing it into my phone very late so… this is all I have in my phone lol. Enjoy!

Art: @misszura

#bowers gang #patrick hockstetter #it movie #henry bowers #it 2017 #it oc #victor criss #belch huggins #it chapter one #the bowers gang #patjane #it book #it stephen king #itmovie #it fanart #it #it fandom #it headcanons #stanley uris #eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #bill denbrough

[teddypickerry]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓.

— pairings! jonathan byers x fem reader

— word count! 2.2k

— warnings! cursing & suggestive material. mostly just ‘i miss you’ ‘i miss you more’ ‘no i do’ blah blah

— summary! in which long distance sucks. but a phone call from your boyfriend might just save the day <33

LONG DISTANCE relationships are hard. everyone knows that. over forty percent of long distance relationships end in breakups... within five months. yeah. so you can imagine the difficulty and the pain that y/n felt as she watched her boyfriend move over a thousand miles away. the byers family had enough of the hurt and emptiness that the dark town had brought their family. so y/n was more than understanding of their move. but that didn't mean she liked it.

it had been three months since the byers moved and jonathan had yet to stick to his promise. his promise of phone calls every other day, even if he was busier than hell. y/n understood, he had moved to a whole new state and he was the man of the house he had always joked. jonathan had to deal with the stress of moving and coach his little brother, will, and new sister, eleven, through it. three months felt like an eternity however, y/n doubted she'd make it without her best friend here with her. sure she had steve, nancy, robin, and the kids but they all noticed her sad glances when she noticed the empty seat during movie nights. or sat alone in classes, as if jonathan's ghost were sat beside her.

"i'm sorry i haven't called," a voice rang into her ear as y/n sat on her bed, twirling the phone chord with her hand. "it's okay, jon. you've been busy. your mom's been telling me all about it."

"ugh, yeah. but i'm just... i'm sorry. i have no excuse really. i just miss you," he mumbled into the phone as he fell on his bed, pressing the phone to his ear as he imagined what his girlfriend was doing right now. he could picture her perfect smile and her pretty hair. and god he could practically smell her. "i miss you too."

"what are you doing right now?" jonathan asked his girlfriend, a smile tugging at his lips. "studying, i presume?"

y/n felt herself hold back a smile as she glanced over at the notes and books open on the end of her bed. her boyfriend knew her too well. "i don't know what you're talking about, byers." she could hear his chuckle on the other side of the line, wanting to reach through the phone and see the look on his face as he did so. "yeah, okay l/n."

there was a silence on both sides. as if they ran out of things to talk about, or began to think too hard what to talk about. y/n could only feel frightened at this. never once in her life did she not know what to say to jonathan except for when they were in seventh grade. when they were at stacy calmon's party and were dared to kiss. but that's a story for another time. "i went to a party last night with steve. he wanted me to pretend to be his sick sister so he could get laid."

"sounds like steve," jonathan humored as he cracked a smile. "who's party?" the thought of y/n at a party was always an interesting one. she had been to very few in her life, not having a desire to watch people she disliked get plastered and then procreate in a random person's bed. "noel may's. he has the good shit at his parties."

"noel's? that guys a dick. what are you doing hanging out with him?" y/n could hear her boyfriend's dismay in his voice as if she just told him the mind flayer was back. "well you don't know him. i mean yeah he was an ass freshman year but he's changed. steve and i have been hanging around him a lot lately."

"hm," jonathan hummed as he tried to avoid a frown. four months ago his girlfriend wouldn't even think of being within six feet of the popular jock who used to call her boyfriend slurs. he decided to give her the benefit of the doubt, considering how steve used to treat the couple and he now was someone who would never leave y/n's side. they were best friends and it seemed to be that way for the rest of eternity. "well if you like him..."

y/n could feel the judgement from her boyfriend's side. which only made her sigh as she made her way over towards her books. shutting them and placing them on top of her dresser. the only thing she could hear was her boyfriend's breaths on the other side of the line. jonathan also glanced around his room unsure what to say. when he noticed a picture of them framed from prom last year. he didn't want to go at all. but with convincing from his girlfriend and his mom, he was in a suit with a rose in his hand. and luckily for him, that night happened to be one of the best he ever had. it was the night he fell in love with her. "remember prom?"

"mhm and how much you didn't want to go," y/n smiled fondly as she turned to face the polaroid taped to her wall. 'Forever' jonathan had wrote on the frame of the small photo. his smile in it the biggest she had ever seen. she remembered nancy snapping the photo and running to hand it to her when it developed. y/n had never loved anything more. "but i had fun didn't i? you we're right as always."

"say that again," y/n joked in a seductive voice making jonathan spit out yet another chuckle on the other side. "i told you i loved you that night. i think i always loved you but... that night. it was the very first night i knew i loved you. the way you were laughing at my jokes in the car on the way to the motel. in the dress that looked absolutely perfect on you."

y/n remained silent as she reminisced on the evening, her eyes still locked on the photograph. "i'll always love you, y/n." jonathan smiled into the phone as the girl hummed. "this sounds like a breakup?" she humored as he laughed. "no, never."

"can i be honest?" she started to play with the phone chord nervously as jonathan furrowed his eyebrows from the other side of the line. "yeah..? see now this sounds like a breakup."

"well, the parties. i always go with steve or someone you know and... i just don't want to seem lonely. but they all know, i know they do. i see all their puppy dog sad eyes everytime i sit next to an empty seat. it's just not the same. i keep trying to fill the void of you not being here but... it doesn't work." y/n laid down, the phone against her ear. she could feel jonathan's sadness. there was a reason she didn't share her loneliness with him earlier, she didn't want him to feel bad. there was eventually a sigh on jonathan's side as he rubbed his face with his hand.

"do you know how much i miss you?" jonathan whispered as if he didn't want y/n to catch it. she closed her eyes. "i haven't made any friends here. that's kind of why i've been avoiding the talks. i just, i can't lie to you. and i knew you'd be all worried so i just... avoided. i'm sorry. i don't mean to leave you all alone."

"so we're just two lonely losers," y/n blurted out making both parties fall into a fit of laughter. she opened her eyes as she glanced over at the polaroid once more. "i wish i could fly. i'd just pick you up and we'd go back in time. before all of this crap we've been through. just back to the very first night we met. at the party."

"when we first kissed. i can practically taste your strawberry lipgloss.” the boy smiled fondly. the two both laid down silently as y/n glanced over at the clock. it was far past when she should be asleep but she didn't seem to mind. not when jonathan was on the other end. "what if i come visit you?" her midnight thoughts got the best of her as she mumbled into the phone. jonathan sat up as he furrowed his eyebrows. "you want to come here?"

"i know you wanted to come home for christmas and come visit everyone and you still should. but i just... i don't know it's stupid nevermind. i'll see you in a month and a half anyways." y/n sighed to herself as jonathan shook his head, as if she could see him. "no, no it's not stupid. i could never get enough of you. you could just come for a long weekend you know. thursday night and come home sunday night. three nights of you is all i've ever dreamed of."

"okay now that was a cringe line," y/n giggled as she smiled. jonathan did the same as he shook his head once more. "okay sorry. but really? you'd wanna come visit me here?"

"of course, jon. i want to see your new life. see where you, el, and will hangout. scope out if there's any girls that might try and steal you, you know the usual." y/n shrugged into the phone. "there's no girl ever who could ever take your place c'mon."

"yeah i know... what are you doing?" the girl questioned as she could hear her boyfriend rustling around. "grabbed the newspaper, looking at flights."

"you get the hawkins newspaper? not even the editor of the hawkins daily gets the hawkins daily." the girl laughed at her geeky boyfriend, fighting the urge to call him a major geek. "i like to be informed. shut up... there's one next weekend to the airport about an hour from here. this could work. the only problem is your dad."

"i'll just tell him i need to fly a thousand miles so i can get a shag," she smiled sweetly into the phone making jonathan jokingly scoff. "mhm, he'd love that. surely a yes."

"next weekend he's gonna be in sheffington for a meeting anyways. it seriously wouldn't be an issue. and robin can totally get me out of school on friday. she's a master at copying handwriting," y/n plotted as she smirked to herself. feeling her boyfriends excitement through the phone. "holy shit, i'm gonna see my girlfriend."

"holy shit, you're gonna see your girlfriend." y/n mocked making jonathan simply smile at the thought. "you still have to ask your mom and i still have to go buy the ticket tomorrow."

"well if you're getting the one here i'll get the one on the way back. no protest," jonathan added the end words, predicting his girlfriend's argument. she smiled at his words. "fine, you idiot. but don't just not buy it so you can hog me for a month. i'm very popular and well liked."

"oh trust me know. i had to wait in line for five hours on our first date to even speak to you." he humored. "i w- mom!"

"hi, sweetie! i haven't talked to you since last week. how are you doing?" the familiar and comforting voice of joyce byers filled y/ns ears as she giggled. "hi, joyce! i'm fine, thank you."

"mom give me the phone back and my girlfriend back, please and thank you." jonathan muttered from the other side of his mother as she gave him a pout before handing him the phone once more. "wait is it okay if y/n comes and stays with us next weekend? there's a flight on thursday night."

joyce lit up at this question immediately responding in an inevitable yes. this resulted in a five minute rivalry over a conversation with you. jonathan won in the ending shaking his head as joyce walked off to check on will. the teenager sighed, leaning against the table. "it's like midnight for you. go to bed."

"hm... no. try again later." y/n hummed, fighting off a yawn as she pulled the comforter over herself. "you're tired. sleep, please. i need a fully refreshed girlfriend for next weekend. we can't have a tired girl who can't stay up all night."

"staying up all night doing what?" she teased him as he pressed his lips together, watching his mother enter the room once more. "oh you know..." he awkwardly laughed. "just go to bed, m'kay? then you can spend all day tomorrow bragging to our friends about how you're gonna see me."

"mh.... fine. but only because i want to not because you're telling me," y/n nodded as jonathan smiled at his girlfriend's sureness. "love you."

"gonna dream of that long hair of yours that i've yet to see."

"oh shush."

#jonathan byers x reader #jonathan byers #stranger things #steve harrington #nancy wheeler #joyce byers #will byers #robin buckley #stranger things fic #charlie heaton #jonathon byers #jonathon byers x reader

[duskandstarlight]

Embers & Light (Chapter 51, Cassian POV)

Notes: Thanks for bearing with me for this! Chapter 52 is just in last rounds of edits and then it's ready for you to read it, but I wanted to post this Cassian POV for chapter 51 before then. Big cheers to all of you who gave your input on what came first, but Cassian POV was somewhat overwhelming!

Chapter 51 Cassian POV

Cassian had been flying. Circling. Looping the same skies, the same clouds set into the azure, spring blue. Anything to distract himself from the fact that Nesta had gone searching for something where he could not follow.

Where the risk felt so great that Cassian was sure something bad was going to happen.

It had the started soon after Elain’s retelling of her vision. It had begun as a feeling. A nagging bite in his gut warning him that he wasn’t connecting the shards and fragments of their plan thoroughly enough. But Nesta had been beside him, so vulnerable and scared, yet also fierce—determined. And he hadn’t been able to think beyond the new mating bond and her fear, beyond that fist in his mind that pounded to be heard without saying anything at all.

So, that looming feeling had settled inside of Cassian like lead. A weight pressing down, down, down until all Cassian could think about was scooping Nesta up in his arms and flying her far away. Where they didn’t have to think about the greater good. Where they could be safe, just them, hiding away from the world.

But he didn’t, because Nesta would always have independence from him as he did from her. And because this plan… it was all they had. And for Elain to have a vision of Nesta descending Below the Lake… It was a sign from the Old Gods—a message. And Cassian wouldn’t ignore it, not when his people continued to suffer from outdated ideals. The Rebellion might claim to give Illyrians a voice, but in reality it only favoured a small minority. 

So, Cassian had said goodbye to Nesta, his mate.

And as Cassian watched Nesta and Frawley descend into the thick of the forest with the manticores at their heels, he’d got that awful feeling again—a sensation of loss, something deep and intrinsic—that went farther than their too-short goodbye.

Only then had Cassian finally understood. 

***

The pain was immediate. 

One minute Cassian was scouting high above the empty Lake, flying mostly for something to distract him from the building ache expanding in his bones, the next something had severed inside of him. 

It wasn't a clean, swift cut, rather a slow, excruciating tear. A torturous pain that eddied and built, spiralling until it was blinding. Undiluted terror and agony clawed up his sternum and into his throat, and his hands flew to his ribcage, his fingers scrabbling against leather and the star ruby at his chest. 

The siphon was scalding to touch, the scarlet of his power screaming, screaming, screaming…

For a few minute seconds, everything seemed to slow down. Time stood thick around them, the wind suddenly syrupy. Cassian saw the last few threads of their braided tie fraying. Saw them as they finally gave way, every fibre slowly failing until—

The mating bond severed completely. 

And then Cassian was falling again, a deadweight in the skies, his body frozen, his spine seized in agony. The wind whistled and struck at his ears as steadfast as the crack of a whip, but Cassian was too stricken to use his wings. So, the wind continued to rush up to meet him and he plummeted right through it—towards the ground, towards the empty Lake of Death—

But then the world was shifting and there was no longer water below him but the tops of trees. As if the Lake’s power had transported him to another section of the forest. As if his body, his blood, no longer sang the same tune. 

Before, he’d been magnetised to Nesta in a way that he knew had overridden the power of a normal mating bond. Before, he’d been able to find her like Illyrians could travel the night sky like a compass.

But now there was no bond connecting them.

So, Cassian fell.

His body ricocheted off branches, tore through leaves and twigs and something else which pummelled into him with such force bones creaked and cracked. 

Then… he hit something soft, malleable. Not only did it cushion his body but the ground seemed to turn elastic, bending with the force of his fall before it threw him back up again and the earth beneath him turned compact again.

Cassian barely resisted the impact of the fall on his body. He didn’t tentatively lift his wings to assess the potential damage. Didn’t twitch his limbs to identify what was dislocated or broken. Because he’d been cast inwards, pulled towards that severed connection inside of his chest. Towards the cause of that pain, that agony, that told him something was so inherently wrong he couldn’t breathe. 

Then, everything was silent. 

In the hollows of Cassian’s ribcage, everything was too dark. There was no twining of silver, no length of braided tie to follow from his ribcage to his heart. There was only his tattered end of the bond. It gave a feeble spark of ruby, the light calling to its lover, begging it to return. 

And in the inky black Cassian spied it—Nesta’s end of the bond—floating away from him, its frayed ends like the sinew and skin found at the end of a torn off limb.

The moment his eyes pinned on it, there was a feeble lick of metallic fire. And Cassian knew that it was a last goodbye, felt it in his bones as Nesta’s deathly magic gave way to sparks—the last faint glow of embers before they faded into the dark. 

But Cassian wasn’t prepared to let it go, couldn’t. He lunged for Nesta’s end of the bond, his fist quick and precise—and roared in pain. It was like pressing down onto a wound to staunch the blood flow. His spine shrieked at the violent arch of his back, but it was nothing on the agony of clutching the torn, braided rope that had been blessed upon him.

The pain tore him back to the forest as abruptly as if he’d winnowed. Nausea, violent and surging, wrangled Cassian into rolling onto his side. And then he vomited all over what seemed to be an impossibly soft blanket of moss— again, again—until there was nothing left but the seizing of his bruised, empty stomach.

When it stopped, all was quiet. Not quiet in the sense that the world had fallen into silence. No, the forest still sang and whispered. It was callously full of life, as if it didn’t care that something had just died inside of him. 

And all Cassian could do was lay there, listening to the blood pounding in his ears, scenting the moss beneath him, green and earthen with a hint of jasmine. He’d winded himself on the way down and now his lungs had finally shocked themselves back into working, his breath wheezed out of him. 

When he dared to turn his head, he didn’t even groan. Didn’t make a sound besides his rattled breathing. Battered and bruised, he opened his sticky eyes, the world blurring back into view but all he could see was moss, as if he was submerged in it.

And it was silver. 

Behind Cassian, the moss shifted and then swift, practical hands began to work over his body. They checked his pulse, ran over his limbs besides his wings, checking for injuries. 

Lorrian.

The colonel’s voice was rough. It broke through the ringing in Cassian’s ears. “It looks like you’ve snapped a few bones in your left wing. The cracked ribs are my fault, but it would have been worse if I hadn’t barrelled into you and sent you into this moss.”

Lorrian came into view, jaw tense, his expression granite save for his hazel eyes which glittered, dark and knowing and swimming with conflicted emotions.

The colonel ran a hand through the close crop of his curly hair as if he didn’t know what to do or say. In the end, he only extended his hand and shifted his weight across the whole of his feet, ready to counter Cassian’s wait.

Cassian grunted in pain as Lorrian helped him upright. 

Now he was sitting, he could see above the metallic moss. It stretched as far as the eye could see, a carpet running in two directions into the thicket of trees on either side of the clearing. There was something supernatural about it, something undoubtedly Nesta—an insignia that Cassian recognised, as familiar as a heartbeat.

A flare of emerald light tore Cassian’s gaze away from the moss. Cassian shrugged off the touch of his friend’s magic with a shake of his head. There was no point in it anyway. Illyrian magic could only patch up injuries, not heal them—only time could do that. “Leave it.”

There was a soft sigh, the first break in Lorrian’s hardened expression. “Cass.”

But Cassian didn’t want to talk about why he’d fallen. Lorrian already knew. There was only one reason why Cassian would have fallen like a deadweight in the sky. He’d barely missed striking a haphazard cluster of stones crusted with lichen. If it wasn’t for Lorrian barrelling into him and throwing him off course, he’d have more than a few broken bones. 

And Nesta? What had happened to her. Had she been ripped into the realm of death without him? Was she even living? Did her heart beat, did the pulse at her throat thrum steadily, did her blood run warm?

“Nesta was here.”

It hurt to croak out her name. That’s how palpable his pain was, his worry. It was as fresh as the needling hurt of his injuries.

Lorrian nodded tightly to indicate he’d made the same conclusion. When he ran his hands through the moss, it glinted like the blade of a knife. “Her power will protect her.”

Cassian wiped the blood from his split lip with the back of his hand, but didn’t speak. Because what could he say? That the bond had been broken and he’d never felt so empty, so alone in his entire life? That it broke him to think of her alone and scared beneath a Lake. That the love he had for Nesta was stronger than ever. That he was terrified that she wasn’t alive, that she wouldn’t come back. 

The worry of it all had the nausea surging inside of him. It was an all-consuming sickness and Cassian couldn’t think beyond it, couldn’t concentrate on anything but the sickness and the terror that Nesta was no longer breathing. 

The bond might have broken, but if he had to choose between a bond and Nesta’s safety, he’d choose her safety every time.

Panic clogged his throat. When he managed to force the words out, they were choked. “How do you know?”

“You’d know if it hadn’t, Cass.”

Lorrian tapped at the overlapping scales of Cassian’s armour, right over his heart. 

“It’s broken,” Cassian said, the words finally cracking out of him. And it didn’t help to say them out loud. It only made the reality of it worse. “It’s just… it’s done. What if—”

A hand came to rest on Cassian’s shoulder, cutting Cassian off. Lorrian’s hazel eyes had tunnelled deep but coalesced into something steady. “Nesta will get the information. You’ll see. Nesta won’t let something like death beat her. She wields it.”

Unlike Frawley whose magic would be a victim to the deathly magic in the forest if she remained too long. Cassian had only been on the forest floor for what he guessed was a few minutes, and he could already feel the effect it was having on his siphons. It felt like the gems were perforated, leaking magic into an atmosphere that gobbled it up.

“Maybe when she comes back Above…” Lorrian began, but he trailed off at Cassian’s shake of the head. The way the threads had been torn apart, the intricate threads of it severed? Cassian couldn’t see any way that they could be knitted back together. 

And the fact that Lorrian was still standing? It indicated that wherever Frawley was, she was alive. Because what would have happened if Frawley had descended Below into death? Would their chroi bond have resulted in Lorrian dropping lifeless at Cassian’s feet?

“Better me than you,” Cassian managed to rasp flatly, because it was true. 

Another crack fissured through Lorrian’s granite expression, exposing the conflicting emotions clashing beneath it. Not just for Frawley, but for Cassian and Nesta. For the torn mating bond inside of Cassian, both ends tied to his ribcage in a desperate attempt to keep something that could never be fixed.

When Cassian turned inwards, hoping got a glint of something, he only touched upon an endless sense of emptiness. There was no wisp of silver caressing his heart, no ghost of pearlescent light healing the wounds of his emotions.

No Nesta. 

Lorrian’s hand tightened on Cassian’s shoulder. It ached but Cassian welcomed the pain. Used it to ground himself. “We’ll just have to wait.”

So, they did. 

Together, they sat in the knee-high moss, their wings straggled behind them, and waited. They remained that way as their magic continued to dull in their veins, their senses diminishing with it, the forest taking something from them with every breath. They stayed like that, even as their rampant thoughts consumed their every breath. As Cassian’s wing bleated in pain, his body unable to heal itself. 

Then, a high-pitched whine came from behind. 

Sala.

Cassian turned.

Tags (let me know if you want to be added/removed): @arinbelle @superspiritfestival @sayosdreams @perseusannabeth @mylittlebigplanet @biggestwingspan-az @bellsqueen @ekaterinakostrova @bookstantrash @prophecyerised @rainbowcheetah512 @awesomelena555 @wannawriteyouabook @starksravings @lovelynesta @melphss @laylaameer01 @a-trifling-matter @fanboy7794 @thalia-2-rose @champanheandluxxury @swankii-art-teacher @lavendergoomsltd @princessofmerchants-reads @jeakat @imwritingthesewords @nestable @inejbrekkxr @silvernesta @inyourmindeye @amelie775 @helen-the-weirdo @pizzaneverdisappoints @wishfulimaginings @trash-for-nessian @my-fan-side @sophilightwood @valkyriesupremacy @vidalinav @onceupona-chaos @inardour @thesunremembersyourface @teagoddess99 @ellies-iced-coffee @misswonderflower

#embersandlightfic #acotar fanfic #duskandstarlightwrites #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #pro nesta #nesta stan #nesta x cassian #acotar #acosf #nessianfic

[9tzuyu]

enough

notes: uh. Hi? so sorry for not writing for awhile, i’ve had some health issues that i’ve had to deal with. i hope this is okay !! send in any hurt/comfort prompts and i’ll see if i can write them :3.

just reread this and oh my god its so bad im so sorry

warnings: not proofread, rusty writing, bullying :p

🏷: @c-is-writing ‹3

mamma!nat x adopted daughter!reader

masterlist

you knew somewhere in the back of your mind what they said to you wasn't true. you knew your mother loved you, cared about you, would do anything for you. but their words never failed to make doubt yourself and the love your mother had for you.

sure, you got some of the best grades in the school, you hardly ever went out or lied about going to parties. you never got into any kind of trouble, always doing your best to be what you thought to be expected of yourself.

but still, there was a part of you that felt like you could be better, like you weren't quite good enough to be natasha's kid.

"you alright?" your mother's voice snapped you out of your thoughts. you looked up towards your mom and smiled. "of course, why wouldn't i be?"

"i don't know, you just seem off today. i can't quite place it either, so i was just checking in."

"i'm okay, just stressed over homework." you didn't mention the fact that every day you were teased or walked over just for being the black widow's daughter. it was rather ironic to you because if natasha taught you nothing else she taught you how to defend yourself. you just never used it against other people, no matter how much you wanted to. getting in trouble didn’t seem worth the hassle.

"what's going on in your world?" you questioned, redirecting the conversation elsewhere.

natasha leaned over the kitchen counter, scrunching her face as she thought. "not much. i miss having you around though, it seems like you've always got school work and i don't see you as much as i used to." she pouted, sticking out her bottom lip.

you tensed at the mention of school, although you tried not to let it show.

fail.

natasha furrowed her eyebrows. "what's wrong?"

"nothing," you rushed out. "i just remembered i have a huge test tomorrow so i'm going to go study for it!"

you snuck past natasha before she could catch you, heading straight for your room. you locked the door behind you just incase.

it wasn't your homework you were stressed over, it was the insane amount of other people's homework you felt pressured to do. you were one person doing a workload for ten.

chemistry, english, history, physics and geometry were on your get-done list for tonight.

you cracked your knuckles and sighed, finally realizing just how overwhelmed you felt. you couldn't back out now though, you'd already told everyone you'd do their work for them.

but the nagging worry that you weren't good enough for natasha crept back into your mind not long after you'd already started.

'you'll never be good enough,' you remembered your peers saying. and now you'd heard it so many times it had to be true, right?

natasha couldn't love you as much as you wished she did. you still had to prove yourself worthy of her love and you had yet to do that. and you were beginning to feel as if you never would.

the familiar pain could be felt in the back of your throat. there wasn’t any delay when you started to cry.

all you ever wanted was to be enough for someone to love. you weren't enough for your birth parents, weren't enough for the many failed placements you had before, and you definitely weren't enough for those around you at school.

it was one thing to think you weren't enough for natasha, but if the words ever left her mouth it just might kill you.

a knock was made on your bedroom door and you quickly wiped away your tears before answering.

"yeah?"

"can i come in?"

you hesitated before turning off your lamp and unlocking the door. natasha noticed the way you immediately turned your back towards her when you let her in. something was wrong and now she was determined to find out what it was.

"kinda dark in here, don't you think?" she joked.

"maybe." you mumbled, making your way back to your bed.

it was a mess. papers were strewn everywhere, pencils and pens were scattered across your blanket. you wouldn't be surprised if a few ink stains could be seen on your sheets.

you flinched when your mother turned on the lights. her worry only grew when you continued to refuse her stare.

"just have to finish up school work, sorry. um, was there something you needed?"

"you could look at me when you're talking." she spoke, voice firm enough to let you know she was serious.

your eyes finally met hers.

"sweetheart..." natasha cupped your face, wiping her thumb across the tops of your cheeks. "what's going on? talk to me, you know i'm here."

you sniffled, desperate to bite back the second wave of emotions threatening to spill.

"do you regret taking me in?"

natasha frowned, "no, not at all. you're my daughter, nothing could ever make me regret you. where is this coming from?"

you shrugged, "it's just kids at school..."

"what do they say to you?" natasha's eyes ran cold and you couldn't help but feel that it might be directed towards you.

"that i'm not enough, that you don't love me. they also force me to do their work. i'm sorry, i know i should be able to stick up for myself but-" your mother cut off your panicked rush of words.

"hey, hey, no apologizing. you have nothing to be sorry for. i love you so much, so much that i can't put it into words. and i promise you're enough, you will always, always be enough for me." natasha brought you in for a hug, letting her eyes roam the papers on your bed for names that weren't yours.

natasha kissed your forehead and brushed away the stray tears that fell down your face.

"i love you," you whispered through a shaky breath.

"i love you more, sweetheart. let's forget about school for now, okay? you won't be going back there. we'll work something out like we always do."

"mkay mom."

#natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #avengers x reader