#I'm too tired and sick and still struggling to want to y'know

[revenantghost]

Wake up babe, a wholeass video with a map and concept art we've never seen was posted months ago and we missed it just dropped

[spilledmilkfkdies]

Hi! First off, thank you very much for answering my earlier asks; I really appreciate that you put in the time and thought to answer my questions. Secondly, I wanted to ask, how do you think the wizards would take it if they had been sentenced to Lightrock rather than Omega? (I think I have also asked this question of another blog, but I’m kinda hooked on the idea.) Thank you very much!

Hiii again!! You're so welcome too! I love answering asks and putting some energy into them, even if that means they take me a sec sometimes djskshsj I get to it eventually stinkyexhaust if you're out there-

And to answer the second part; Honestly I kinda vibe with the idea, I think about it sometimes, briefly. But that's because I'm biased and I simply don't want them to be frozen for eternity. Or for however long the comics kept them there before making them work for some guy and eventually imprisoning them in Solaria boo boo tomato. Absolutely YOINKED them from their planet, which ig Lightrock would also do. But like. That's different.

How would they take it though? Hmmmm yeah probably beats Omega, if only because they're together and able to talk to each other. Hopefully. Unless they're separated. I think Ogron would struggle the most, he's still experiencing some very strong emotions of the angry sort- but I feel like he'd eventually be fine as long as he's with Gantlos and Anagan who are TIRED. And in mourning. Ogron will get there too. Is Lightrock the absolute perfect solution for them that will fix all their problems though? Will they straight up vibe there without any issues? No!! But I really don't think they're as kill kill destroy as modern Winx writing is trying to sneak in there, they can be civil! At least for as long as it would take to get the "yeah lol they're fine now" stamp of approval so they can be on their way, which I think is the end goal? It's a rehabilitation thing right, those aren't permanent usually, I don't think.

Y'know who really could've used Lightrock. When we give it a minute of thought.

HE. HIM. THAT THING.

You're telling me this SICK man, who had been feverishly yapping away on your couch just minutes prior, DARES to speak the words "Who says I want to recover?", proceeds to reveals big evil plan (it actually being true aside for a moment) and you decide to KILL him where he stands as he BEGS for his life?? Bit overkill tbh. Yeah imprison the other ones but just explode the dying one, kill him faster! The medical bills just weren't worth it huh

Also?? Imagine there was no evil plan, and he really was just delusional and saying shit again. Could we perhaps say? Medical malpractice? Hm?

Really if any of the 4 were to be put in Lightrock, realistically it should be him?? This was him canonically going insane fam, please get him some therapy or something he'll be fine. Probably. BONUS POINTS if they'd let him stay in the bat form, I'd really like that and I'm not getting into the logistics of it. Just make sure his wings have room to move :(( I pinky promise he won't try to fly away pls :(( I don't think he even could pls pls :(( Y'all have security measures in place :((

[flimflamfandom]

Four Different Kisses

I wanted to write sappy stuff. I just like writing sappy stuff. I might do another version with OCs and somesuch but this one's just Frepper.

-

1927

Ivy sighed as she laid in the truck, out of view of the windows. She slowly peeked out, sticking the rifle out of the window. She saw Calvin running with the crate, and the man behind him. She took aim, and breathed out. "hhhh..." BANG!

She got the man behind him in the chest, and he fell instantly. Calvin looked behind him, ragged and tired. He got into the truck, and tossed the crate by the backseat. "Thanks."

"Yer welcome." Ivy sat up, and got behind the driver's seat, as Calvin caught his breath. He was heaving in air, and he had undone his vest. He wiped his brow and looked over. "You really saved my life there, y'know." He said. "He was gonna get me."

"You owe me a kiss." Ivy winked. "Least y'could do." She cooed. Calvin smiled, and leaned in. He was still breathing heavily as he kissed her, and he was quick to hold her. He pulled away soon after, and looked up at the ceiling.

"...home, aye?"

"Yep." Ivy began to drive off.

1928

Ivy walked down the aisle, accompanied by a teary eyed Ruby. She was teary eyed, too, but she figured she would handle it - until she saw Calvin looking at her.

He stared, wide eyed, and slack jawed. He blinked a few times. he couldn't honestly believe how beautiful she looked, as she settled in next to him. She stood next to him, and smiled, her eyes becoming glassy and watery. Calvin's did, too. He spoke softly, so no one could hear.

"Would you want to go out sometime with me?"

"Pfft...Freckle..." Ivy covered her mouth, trying not to laugh too loudly - even at dumb jokes like that, she laughed too loud.

They went through the motions. They went through the vows. Calvin, in his usual way, was very verbose. He was flowery with his language, talking about rivers and clouds and warmth and winter days.

Ivy listened, but she didn't much absorb what was said. She was fixed on his slight smile, his watering eyes, his warm glance. She barely even registered the line "and when the stars shine at night, I curse them for not shining brighter, so I might see your smile all hours of all days..."

When it came her turn, Ivy's were shorter, and simpler - "I vow to stay with you, as long as the sun keeps rising..."

As she spoke, Calvin found himself transfixed - he was unable to stop staring at her, to stop basking in her warm beauty, as she struggled to say the things she'd written, struggled to fight back tears. Calvin, not knowing where they even were in the process, reached out, put a hand on her cheek, and wiped a tear away, smiling and whispering 'I'm happy, too, my love.'

there was a paused.

"...Mr. McMurray?"

"Hmm?"

"Staring, hmm?" The priest chided him a little, smiling. "Do you, Calvin Phineas McMurray, take Ivy Ruth Pepper, to be your lawfully wedded wife, to love her, honor her, and keep her in sickness and health, for as long as you shall live?"

"I do."

"And do you, Ivy Ruth Pepper, take Calvin Phineas McMurray, to be your lawfully wedded husband, to love him, honor him, and keep him in sickness and health, for as long as you shall live?"

"I do."

The by the power went by quickly. So did the pronouncement. Neither much cared. They just wanted to hear one word -

"You may kiss the bride!"

Calvin gripped Ivy, and pulled her in, kissing her longingly and deeply, as if he'd been waiting a lifetime for it. He held the back of her head, and she held him by his shoulders. It felt too short, but as they pulled away and people cheered, Ivy didn't try for another one. She looked up at Calvin.

"...do we HAVE to go to the reception?" She asked. "Can't you just take me home?" She winked. Calvin huffed, and smirked.

"You don't want to force me to dance?"

"Hmm...well. You drive a hard bargain, Mr. McMurray." She kissed his cheek.

1930

Ivy sighed as she walked back to the house in the hills. She roleld her eyes, and stretched her back. "Hours, Freckle, HOURS! And you didn't even get an award!" She crossed her arms, the statuette in her hand gleaming as she set it down.

Calvin laughed. "Well, there's next year. I'm young." Calvin said. "Besides, the house has two of those little statuettes, it's fine." Calvin rubbed her shoulders as Ivy sat down. "You do look lovely in that dress."

"Thank you." Ivy smirked. "Only heard it from you a billion times tonight~"

"Well...it's true." Calvin seemed a little embarrassed. Ivy turned to face him.

"I like hearing it. I like hearing you." She stood on the other side of the couch, and walked over it to reach him. "In fact, ever since we came to Hollywood," She put a hand in his, "you've only made me love ya more." She put another hand on his chest. "You're the only man in this town I actually love to work with." She said.

Calvin wrapped her up in his arms, and looked down at her, with a smoulder.

"...am I getting better with the eye thing?"

"Hah!" Ivy chuckled. "Let the leading men do that, I didn't fall for you for a smoulder." She put a hand on his cheek. "I fell for you for your sweet little smile. You know that."

She kissed him, and sighed. The kiss became more and more intense...

1936

Calvin slowly walked into the house, and looked back. The procedure had gone well - he would be okay. But still, having that much of your tail removed is jarring, and tough on any cat. He heard footsteps behind him.

"I could've gotten that on a second trip." Calvin said, smiling as Ivy rushed in his typewriter.

"No, no, nonsense? You're not gonna have that much of you cut off and then just lift a bunch of things."

"Dear, it's not as if I've lost a leg, I just have half-"

"Calvin." Ivy sighed. "...I know you want to man your way through this but this is very serious." She said, firmly. She walked into the house. "Just because they cut it out doesn't mean it won't come back - the doctor said that."

"Ivy-"

"This killed my MOTHER, Calvin." Ivy said. "And you're not just gonna parade around like nothing is wrong!"

"Nothing IS wro-"

"You had CANCER." Ivy shouted. "You...you had..." She sat down. "...I'm sorry I'm shouting."

"You have every right to." Calving sat on a stool, and winced as he did so. "I know. I'm sorry I'm not...I-" He looked over. "The baby." He stood, and walked towards the crib, towards his son - Finn. He had his eyes and his mother's fur. "You need a change, don't you?"

Ivy watched as Calvin, just home from a multi day recovery, from a life changing surgery, simply changed a diaper. She wanted to be mad. She wanted to take him by his face, shake him, tell him to be as scared as she was. She looked on for a moment. She heard his voice.

"I don't want to die scared of this." Calvin said.

"You...you don't go talking about death." Ivy said. "I'm too scared of that."

"I am, too." Calvin said. "...guess we've never both been scared like this before." He finished changing Finn's diaper, and turned around, wiping his hands.

"...please just..." Ivy shook her head, "just tell me you understand how this feels for me. Even if you're lying."

Calvin nodded. He held her face in his hands.

"...I'm just as scared." He said. "But I love you. And we'll have to stay with that." He kissed her.

It was soft, and quiet. It was warm. It was comforting...it was bittersweet. Calvin pulled away, and moved his hands to Ivy's waist. "...I haven't gotten to do that in a few days."

"You haven't." She said, smiling, and purring. "...maybe a few more, to make up for lost time?"

"If you insist..." Calvin pressed his lips to hers once more...

[thatboxylady]

nothing like a mini fic where jetstorm from a thrust reformatted au meets the canon universe thrust :)

"Neither of us is the real deal, you know," Jetstorm finally said. Better to address the proverbial elephant in the room now before they hurt themselves worse, or frag forbid an actual elephant came through-- damn Maximals. He was too tired to add any real sass to his inflection for the sake of a bit, because the only bit he was having to deal with right now was the piece of broken reality in front of him. He felt like he was going crazy. "Not as far as the other is concerned. Sorry. All we are to each other is a... copy. Copies."

"What makes you say that?"

Even hearing his voice felt wrong. At least the feeling seemed to be mutual? For as mutual as you could get when the world was upside down with nothing to adhere to, because none of this should have been happening. Thrust was still standing relatively stiff and squared off, which was a telltale sign he was anxious. Primus, it was like he never left. Like...

Both Vehicons continued to linger by the edge of the pit. Neon green bioluminescence splashed over their frames. it smelled like rotting organic matter and rust down here. The stank of underground musk was mud drenched in battery acid. Vague sulfur lingered on his olfactory sensors like the disorientation that came from a waking nightmare. "Storm?"

"We're not from the same..." Jetstorm hated how he was struggling with this. Talking to a reflection of a dead man who somehow wasn't dead in the way he had become used to was a little unnerving, honestly. "Urgh. Roller wonder, you know what I'm trying to say. If you're anything like my version of Thrust, you would understand..."

"I know. I ain't playin' dumb, I promise. I'm just wanting to figure out if you're thinkin' the same way my Jetstorm would." Thrust shrugged, and frag, even the way he held himself was identical. "That make sense?"

"Was there even any difference between our universes besides... this?" Jetstorm gestured to the pit and regretted taking a closer look. On the rock jutting from the center of the pool were marks. Some with fushia paint transfer from where his Thrust had tried to bash his own head in; with blue where his own counterpart had tried the same. Whatever was necessary to stop the pain each must have gone through. The blending of their realities had superimposed those separate instances on top of each other, leaving them plain to see in all its technicolor suffering. They were looking at their own doppelgangers' graves as much as someone they cared about.

"You mean the other one dying," Thrust mumbled. "I haven't noticed, if that makes you feel any better. You're identical."

"It doesn't. I'm still thinking that this feels wrong," Jetstorm murmured. "You're not my Thrust. I'm not willing to replace him. What would he--?"

"I'd think he'd want you to be happy," Thrust suddenly said. He didn't look at him, keeping his stare straight at that same rock. The green refracting off his armor made him look as sick as sad. "I'd want you to be happy, y'know? Ain't a lot of that in abundance around here. We always what we get and don't question the good stuff when it comes, because gettin' too comfortable means that losing it will hurt."

That was more than fair.

"I say we take it for what it is. No one's getting replaced," Thrust continued. Now he did turn to look at him. "We're just picking where the other left off so we get taken care of. I think that's why this is happening. We could take it for what it is-- no one is replacing anyone."

Jetstorm scoffed. "You wouldn't be even a little upset?"

"Would you?"

Theeere it was. The hail mary gone bloody in the face of losing everything you cared about, versus gaining it back through a looking glass. What was even real at this point? Was it worth trying to figure out when your entire world was ripped out from underneath you, only to get dropped back on your plate as if his partner, friend, mate hadn't been murdered? "No."

"We ain't ever gettin' a second chance as good as this one."

Jetstorm hummed. "Guess not, roller boy."

"That settles it, then-- right? You wanna go? I could use a drink. Maybe a reintroduction, too. I'll try not to ram you off a freeway this time."

Jetstorm managed to laugh at that. It was only a little, but it was a start. Running away with a second chance felt like "We could try to get this right this time. Better be careful! I still bite, biker boy."

The bastard laughed right back, and damn. After going so long without hearing that smokey codec, having it resonating against his processor bordered something beautiful. "That ain't ever scared me."

All they ever had between them was blues despite the stardom; bruised in all the glamour laid before them. This broken life they were born into was the only one they had, with the few parts shared between them that made it worth surviving. Through all of the sorrow, though? Jetstorm was ready to feel like flying high again-- this reflection of Thrust seemed more than ready to do the same. Even with all they had lost, the truth of the matter was neither one of them had ever let the other go. "Nothing wrong with that," Jetstorm answered.

[miallurk]

I'm officially so fucked up I need help girlies.

Just a minute ago, I was scrolling tumblr. A throught came to me, and I wanted to send it to my friend. I'm thinking about it real hard, but a second later... it's gone like it was never there. Just up and wanished, and I was left with the desire to break my head banging it on a wall.

This shit is happening more and more. Yeah, I had bad memory before, but this isn't fucking it. I can't remember most of my childhood by now. I do not remember the last four years, only bits and pieces that I can't pin up to a certain time. I lose track of time easily and can just forget about prople until I see something that reminds me of them but by then it's usually too late to not be weird by texting them back. Physically i can't hold three kilograms without getting tired and I have the shittiest stamina ever. I am currently just a mess of anxiety and depression, wrestling with myself to not try to harm myself once again, and I don't think i've been out of this state since when I was nine and the throught "wish I had cancer and died" crossed my mind, since, y'know, kids don't really know many ways of dying and I knew sickness and oldness only.

I am less than twenty years old for fucks sake. What the hell is happening to me? I feel like my body is deteriorating. My eyesight is shit, as my hearing is. It's so fucking frustrating. My mental health is not getting any better, things are piling up and am being forced to go pursue a career in something I fucking despice because "I want that for you" and money problems.

I cannot remember the last name or face of the woman who I considered a sister and loved with my whole heart. I push people away just because of my fucking paranoia and fear of being "not normal". I am suffering every day constantly, be it physically or emotionally. Is this normal??? I mean, I know I was malnourished and sleep deprived and dehydrated and mentally ill and potentially abused all that time but it still is very. Very bad. I'm struggling and?? How do people go through this??

I also may have adhd/autism if its relevant- but I quess I'm just really venting stuff out and not really expecting answers at this point. Sure would be nice, but. Ugh. Now I feel bad after trying to sit down and ask a few questions but just crying into the void I know no one will boter to read. Hells.

[snaggletoothedbastard]

I've already reblogged this but I wanted to add some of my Thoughts.

A couple of weeks ago, I got really sick. I had to be sent home from school. When I got home I couldn't do much more than lie in bed shivering because I had a fever. I threw up about four times and I'd barely eaten anything that day so there was nothing to bring back up, just bile. My mum called the doctor to see if there was anything she could do that she wasn't doing already, and the doctor said there were "too many red flags" regarding my symptoms, so they sent two paramedics to our house.

And for some reason I thought about Frodo, and how similar his condition was to mine during the last sections of his journey. In fact he was almost definitely feeling worse than I was. And that made me feel even more impressed, because even though he was obviously struggling, he still did his damn best to keep going. Whereas I could barely stand up, and literally just walking the short distance to the bathroom was enough to make me nauseous.

I mentioned this to my mum when I was feeling better, and she said, "Yeah. Frodo's hard as nails."

I can apply this to other things too. I once went a whole night without sleeping. I don't sleep particularly well anyway and I'm always pretty tired, but that day I was significantly worse. At about midday I just went back to bed because I didn't have the energy to do anything else. Sound familiar?

I can keep going. Why don't I tell you about school? I'm lucky enough to attend a pretty good school that is at least trying to accommodate me properly. I still have to deal with the crowded hallways. The bright lights. The uncomfortable uniform. up at seven fifteen every morning and getting half the amount of sleep I should be getting. The constant fear that something is going to trigger a meltdown and I won't be able to stop it. The mean teachers. The mean students. Oh my god, the students. They're fucking brutal. Did I tell you about the gang of boys in my year that noticed my noise-cancelling headphones and decided it would be funny to clap loudly whenever they saw me? Did I tell you that one time they literally cornered me and just clapped and clapped until I managed to get away from them, and after that I was so stressed I couldn't speak? I still can't stand the sound of people clapping because I've learnt to associate it with my bullies and it automatically makes me panic. Remind you of anyone?

What's my point? People who take the piss out of Frodo simply for struggling (because of, may I add, something that is so dangerous even Gandalf avoids it like the plague) should really think about why they have this attitude, and how it might be affecting real people. Because despite what they say, fiction can affect reality, and if people are happy to say awful things about a fictional character, I wouldn't put it past them to say similar things about real-life people who are in similar conditions.

And even if they don't say these things about real people, we can still be affected by what they're saying about the character.

I relate to Frodo in so many ways. I often wonder if people see me the way some people see him. I know I'm not whiny and annoying, and I know my struggles are as valid as anyone else's, but I do worry sometimes. I worry that I might be overreacting when I have an intense reaction to something that stresses me out, or that I'm oversharing and being irritating when I complain about school. And y'know what's not fucking helping me, or anyone else, with that? People who bitch about disabled-coded characters for acting disabled.

If any of those people are reading this, here's something I want you to read very carefully and make sure you understand. The reality is: there are parts of life that you can't glorify or romanticise. Sometimes life is ugly and painful and difficult. Sometimes it's more difficult for certain people than it is for other people. Those people that find life more difficult than you do are just as worthy of respect as you are. Whether their struggles are obvious or not. I should not have to spell this out.

In conclusion, Frodo Baggins is hard as nails :)

the lack of compassion that a good portion of lotr fans show for frodo ("why can't he fight or do simple tasks" "why is he so weak" "why does he always need help / to be rescued") mirrors the lack of compassion of people for those who bear the burden of invisible disabilities. he's struggling against an immense weight at every step! something that actively tries to destroy him, worsening at every moment! his heroism is in just continuing to walk his path, step by step. his bravery is in just existing as himself under the debilitating weight of the ring. but because the influence of the ring is invisible, it is forgotten, and frodo is written off as a weak, cowardly, and/or useless character, much like disabled people irl. in this household we do not stand for frodo slander!!!

[thesoftanon]

its embarassing to say that but... im a sucker for sickfic + hurt/comfort

can you do that with mango and purple?

but no shipping with them

Cold nose, warm heart

okay so! this is my first time doing a sick fic, I tried to not make it too OOC but y'know how I am

hope you enjoy it! -sorry it's kinda short-

tw: lots of cursing, some throwing up, sickness

Mango didn't have a good day today. Usually, he would manage through the day with only his grumpy self, but given the… special dates he was currently close to, he spaced out a lot in the memories —which resulted in lots of small accidents, nothing serious but pretty annoying— and somewhere in the way he ended up there, lost in a winter forest in the middle of a snow storm.

"Ah fuck, just my luck" he cursed under his breath, feeling his body tremble from the cold breeze that blew against him, normally he would just use a portal to the nether and travel through there back to his shared residence (he always preferred the heat anyways) but the moment he tried to cross the portal–

…

Shivering from the cold, mango clumsily opened the door and got inside, rushing beside the fireplace and starting a fire to warm himself up.

"Jesus, what happened to you?" Purpled asked, coming from the kitchen with some nether wart tea "did you go out in the storm?"

"The fuck does it look like prick?" Mango answered while starting to heat up and stopping the shivers.

"God… what got you so mad lately? You've been acting weird all month" purple mumbled, going back to the kitchen "you should probably take a shower and rest for the night, I'll make you some tea and-"

"No." Mango suddenly got up, no longer caring for the cold and going to his room "don't you fucking baby me, I'm a grown ass stick and I can take care of myself"

"Excuse me?" Purple rubbed their temples at the sudden change of mood "I am not babying you, I'm merely being a decent stick figure" but by the time they were done talking Mango had already locked himself in his room "dramatic bitch… don't come crying tomorrow when you feel like shit and you need someone to take care of you" but purple knew that was a lie, and they would help anyway the older needed him.

Just as they predicted, next morning Mango woke up to a killer headache and an extreme fever, taking a second to get up but instantly getting nausea from it and sprinting towards the bathroom to vomit.

"...are you okay?" Purple wanted to say 'I told you' and rub it into mango’s face before helping, but knowing the state of the man in front of them they knew this wasn’t the occasion for it “I’m gonna call blue, they probably got some potions that can help with this”

Mango raised his hand while still puking to stop purple from talking, purple got on their knees and rubbed circles in mango’s back as he kept going on. When mango finally stopped, his sore voice spoke again “I’m not that bad, didn’t you have plans for today?” he wiped the spit out of his chin, awkwardly getting up to hear loud, exasperated sigh from purple

“your health is more important than just a random hangout, now stop being a bitch and let me take care of you”

“I don’t need nor want your fucking pity” with lot of less force than he usually would, mango pushed purple aside “go away with your stupid friends and let me alone”

“ugh, what the hell got into you?! I’m just trying to help!” purple’s patience started running thin “Look, you’re getting into bed and letting me take care of you whether you like it or not”

“Make me!”

…

Tucked on bed while being tied to it, mango glared at the shorter stick figure with tired eyes “Fuck you purple, you’re the worst” he struggled to get out but it was no use, the ties were too strong

“Uh-uh, sure I am” they shook their head as they walked out, hearing the doorbell “that must be red, blue send him with the medicine… stay here, I’ll be back with some soup”

mango just stood silently glaring as purple left the room, and once alone he kicked the covers off, used his feet to grab a golden dagger he kept hidden under his bed and cut the ropes (what? did you really think our king couldn’t get out of this one?). Quickly he changed into warm clothes with intentions of going out, he moved as stealthy as he could with his current state.

Lucky him the door that connected the kitchen with the main entrance was closed, so no one would see him as he left. He was so close to his objective when a single sound made him stop dead in his tracks.

A sob, a sob he could identify as from purple’s voice.

Mango looked at the door of the kitchen undecided, well, just a glance to make sure everything was in order wouldn’t hurt anyone, right? So silently opening the door just enough to peek inside and get to know what was happening.

Purple sat there while a pot started to boil, leaning both elbows on the table as his hands covered his face, red sitting beside them and rubbing soothing forms on their back “C’mon purple, it can’t be that bad…”

“You really don’t get it” purple’s voice came out as a whisper but progressively got louder “I have tried everything, I thought we were getting somewhere, I thought he was starting to open up to me but… it always comes to this” and while mango couldn’t exactly see purple’s face, he could see how red wiped something off their face, he assumed those were tears “Am I just that bad? If he disliked me that much, why did he accept to live with me? I-I don’t… I don’t get it. I thought he was getting better, I thought we were getting better”

Mango couldn’t keep hearing that any longer, so he closed the door and took a step back. So that really happened, mango wasn’t a moron to not know he could damage purple with his attitudes, but he never expected it to be that bad, to see them cry. Guilt taking over him, he decided that just for this once he would make things differently. For purple.

…

Once the soup was done and red left, purple got upstairs with a plate –fully expecting mango to not be there– and opened the door.

“What took you so long?” mango asked, putting down a book he was reading and sitting properly to eat.

“you… you’re still here? untied?”

“I’m sick, where else could I be? and I don’t like being tied, duh” mango answered, getting the soup and starting to eat -it helped a lot to his aching throat- “this doesn’t taste like shit, what did you put in it?” mango tried to subtly compliment

“nether wart and chicken- mango, the fuck is going on?”

“...” mango knew this was out of character for him, but whatever, he can blame the ferver on this. Deep breaths mango, deep breaths “...ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ” just a mumble, hard to understand but purple managed to hear it.

Silence.

“...what?”

“ah, you heard me so don’t make me repeat myself-”

“no, not that, why are you apologizing?” purple looked confused, mango swallowed his pride… a bit.

“Because I’ve been a pain in the ass and you just wanted to help, so… yeah” mango finished his soup faster than ever, god he was hungry and– wait, no, this is not the time for food “Purple, I might be one of the biggest pricks you’ll ever meet, but you- urgh, this is gonna be one of the cheesiest things I’ll ever say, be grateful I’m this sick” he already felt embarrassed by merely thinking it, but mango still remembered victim telling him how important is to communicate both positive and negative things “I do love you, I do see you as my annoying little sibling and I– H-hey! don’t cry! why are you crying?!” Did he mess up again?

“You are a prick mango tango” purpled jumped to hug him close “I thought- ugh, doesn’t matter, I’m just happy things are turning out alright”

“hey, keep the distance or you might get sick”

“Don’t care, hug me right now bitch” and mango did.

Maybe there were still things left to talk about, maybe this wouldn’t be their last fight, maybe things wouldn’t be so nice between the two of them all of the time, but who cares? all the siblings fight every once in a while. That wouldn’t break their bond.

[t0shii]

hq boys when you're feeling anxious or stressed

suna rintaro, hinata shoyo, oikawa toru x gn!r

!warnings! mentions of anxiety, reader comparing themselves to others, mentions of food & hunger, driving. this is like all fluff no angst rlly tbh.

SUNA RINTARO.

he could tell something was up but conviced himself he shouldnt pry as he had already asked you twice if you were feeling alright, to which you reasurred him with a "yep" both times, it was suspicious but he thought maybe you just wanted to be left alone. meanwhile you weren't sure why you lied him, you obviously were not doing okay at the moment. currently he was driving you home and your anxiety was going absolutely crazy from the amount of school work that was piling up on you, it's unfair you thought to yourself, looking out the window. not only were you stressed from work but trying to keep up with your friend was hard, to say the least. they were phenomenal students, straight As in their transcript and though your grades were just fine, you couldn't help but feel inferior and insecure. it's unfair how effortlessly smart they are and how i'll never be able to catch up.... oh boy if your thoughts weren't running wild before they definitely were now, you hadn't even realized your boyfriend pulling into your driveway until he slightly tapped your shoulder. "are you sure you're alright? i don't wanna pressure you ofcourse but, you know you can tell me anything right?" ... and there were the water works! the little string holding you together had snapped just like that. you sat there in the passengers seat sobbing into your hands and suna rintaro hadn't a clue what to do in the moment.

"give me just a sec" you heard him mumble but not before he gave you a kiss as light as a feather on the top of your head. somehow you didn't notice him exit the car and rush to your side until he opened your door and hugged you so tight you honestly couldn't breathe. after a few seconds your boyfriend let go of the embrace which, to his dismay, only made you cry even harder. now, he knew he was known for being quite... stoic but he was definitely panicking on the inside and it was really difficult to remain calm on the outside. your boyfriend carefully reached over you to unbuckle the seatbelt that you had yet to unclasp. "lets go inside baby." his voice was so gentle it would've taken you by surprise had you not still been crying. you nodded in response and he helped you carefully out of the car, holding your hand all the way to the door, "d'ya have your key?" you nodded trying your best to unlock the door, after a few struggled and shakey attempts you finally had your door unlocked but not without rins help because he couldn't bare to watch you struggle any longer.

stepping inside rin helped you take your shoes off, removing his own after, "bedroom?" having calmed down a little you whispered "yes," with a small nod. he nodded with you in response and took you to your bedroom. after helping you change into comfy clothes he helped you into bed, crawling in right behind you. your back was snug against his chest and he held you super tightly, it was silent for a few minutes until finally he spoke up, "please tell me how i can help" you could feel your lip quiver. "well... you don't have to say anything right now, you know i can wait. i'll even leave if you want, i just wanted you to know that you can tell me whenever you're ready and that i'll listen." neither of you were sure when you'd be ready to admit what had gotten you so upset but you felt comfortable knowing suna rintaro would be there whenever you were ready, whether it be minutes from now or even months.

HINATA SHOYO.

your silence on the walk home was starting to concern him.. maybe im just talking too much... he thought, "hey... im sorry if im talking your ear off.. how was your day angel?" to say he was disappointed with your response would be an understatement. not thar you HAD to talk but usually you were talkative with him and the worry in his tummy was only growing more. a simple, "oh.. my day was alright sho," simply woundn't cut it! "hey, are you feeling okay?" it was silent for a few seconds before you answered a mumbled "i think so, are you feeling alright, sho?" he simply nodded with a "mhm" and you told him to continue on with his story from earlier.

he complied but only to fill the silence. hinata decided to trust you when you said you were okay because you know your own feelings and he knows for a fact he's made it clear before that you could and should let him know if something was bothering you. though you enjoyed listening to hinata's stories you only found yourself getting lost in your own mind whilst he rambled on.you could tell he was suspicious of your behavior but was grateful he had left his curiosity behind because you were sure you would snap if he had asked you if you were okay again, you really didn't want to cry in front of him. truth is, your thoughts were running wild, stressing over the smallest things; assignments due at the end of the week, what you were gonna get your boyfriend for your anniversary, how you were gonna make time for your friends surprise birthday party and helping sho with his studied all the while trying to take care of your own self and keep your own grades afloat. "y/n..? we're at your house.. are you sure your alright? you look a little pale, are you ill?" crap! how had you not noticed you were approaching your own driveway you wanted to slap yourself for being so clueless. you couldn't help but feel horrible for not listening to your boyfriends story also.

"yes sho i'm fine really, i just didn't have time to eat lunch today but i have food inside so don't worry m'may?" he looked at you suspiciously and you knew he was onto you, "y'know y/n, i'm not gonna force you to tell me what's going on but just know i'll always be here for you, okay?" he gave you a small smile before engulfing you into a tight hug, it honestly melted your heart. surprisingly, you didn't start crying on the spot. "y'know, i wanted to trust you when you said you were okay but now i'm not so sure if you were telling the truth," he mumbled into your shoulder. you sighed, giving up the facade. "sho.... i just don't know what to do honestly, i have alot on my plate right now and i'm really stressed with all the responsibilities ive piled onto myself," you admitted. he nodded lifting his head from your shoulder, giving you the brightest smile, "well, i can always help out! i might not be the mooost helpful person ever but i'll try my best, and if anything i'm good moral support!" you giggled at that but suddenly you felt your lip quiver from the sudden guilt you feeling, "i'm sorry for lying to you sho-", "hey! its alright! you dont need to apologize. especially dont need you crying on me now!" he smiled cupping your face in his hands, wiping away a few stray tears of whom managed to escape.

OIKAWA TORU.

you smile back at him and thought of how silly it was that you tried keeping your feelings a secret from your boyfriend of two years, hinata shoyo, feeling glad that you confided in him. he knew you were upset as soon as he saw you that very morning, he could read you like and open book and you knew that fact very well. still though, you tried your best to hide yourself from him, though it was hard considering you sitting right next to him in the passenger seat of his car. finally after a whole day of being worried sick, he was tired of leaving things left unsaid "babyyyy," he sang for you from the kitchen, "please come here a sec!" he yelled for you louder. soon you came trudging down the hallway, blanket wrapped around your body, he couldn't help but smile at how adorable his s/o looked.

"c'mere quickly," he said will a grin, opening his arms for a hug, which you gladly accept, wrapping your arms around his waist tightly. "now, i know you know that i know that you're not feeling well, so please tell me what's got my angel so upset?" he said softly rubbing his hand lightly over your back, his voice a little muffled from his cheek being squished against the top of your head. you let out a breath you hadn't even realized you were holding, "'m sorry tooru, i don't know what's wrong with me today.... just not feeling well." you felt him nod against your head in response, "well good thing your amazing boyfriend is here to make you feel all better huh?" you let a out small giggle at that. "you know you can tell me when you're feeling down right? you shouldn't keep things bottled up inside", "i know tooru... im sorry, i just dont really know wbat i'm feeling so down about though," you admitted shyly. "hey that's okay! there absolutely no need to apologize for that, here, look at me, angel," he tilts your face so you're looking up at him, his big soft hands holding your face, thumbs stroking your cheeks lightly, "i'm here whenever you figure it out, hell, even if you dont figure it out or there just isn't any reason at all. you know i'm always, always, always here. i promise you that, m'kay?" he finishes his little speech with a smile, smothering your face in kisses. you could only feel relieved, thankful and loved. because you knew that you would always have your soulmate, oikawa toru by your side.

( a/n ; ahh so im sorry if this has any spelling or grammatical errors it's sort of late as i'm writing this! and im too lazy to proof read.... also it might just all be word vomit and if it is im so sorry 😩 ++ i'm positive ive kept the reader gn throughout the whole thing but if there are slip-ups i promise i'll do better next time! i rlly wanted to write some hq boys when ur feeling anxious and beyond stressed because i have been MEGA struggling with my own anxiety lately, especially bc of school so i just needed to let my feelings go! anywhooo i hope everyone who reads this has an amazing day or night! ) p.s. im new to writing so be nice 2 me or whatever 😩🙄😌👍🏻

[bansheeoftheforest]

Kent and Raphael Jekyll! I'm real tempted to have them be related to Jekyll like you've made Rexford is to Jasper. But how 🤔 and would Jekyll even know them or care about their death. Whatever reason it's fun to have Jacob just *nervous sweating after realizing he killed some of his boyfriend's family*

Oh dang it now I'm thinking of a branch where Jekyll is apart of the Blighters/Templars. Probably against his will? But like. His brothers are there. He'd be trained in fighting and killing (though he still greatly struggles to aim a gun) ooooo how would they enlist his help? Same as what's been established? Finding him in a base after learning hes been making all those poisons the blighters use? Blackmail?

Oooo what if theres a quest where you get hit by a potion, and sure it makes one of the twins sick for a few days but it didn't actually kill or get close to killing them. So the twins go to investigate because why on earth would the blighters just make them sick rather than just killing them? And thus they are lead to discover that the third Jekyll brother has been silently sabotaging the poisons he makes for the gang, and that "Henry Jekyll" is the Dr. Henry Jekyll. So they make a deal of letting Henry live as long as he helps the rooks (they also promise to pay him much more for his help. And to have him a bit more focused on treating injuries rather than killing)

-

"...Y'know you can just steal a carriage and go after them most of the time, right? At least unless they specifically state "follow x by doing z" and stuff, so XD"

Too much work, I simply must run and accidentally get 500m behind before the game decides to just pity me and put the carriage in an accident /lh

Jekyll: Huh, someone killed my brothers recently :(

Jacob: Oh my god whoever did this is going to pay-- what was their names?

Jekyll, nervously sweating bc he is related to templars and blighters: Kent and Raphael Jekyll.

Jacob, nervous sweating realizing he killed his boyfriend's brothers: o-oh wow.

-

But oh my god. I love that idea. Like Henry being the classic youngest brother forced into all the rebellious and illegal shit his older brothers gets up to, definitely against his will because he doesn't want to be involved in any of this but he has no choice so he just... Sabotages shit and no one notices, maybe Henry would despise his brothers so much he would try to actually get them killed-- oh what if the twins get a mission to kill Kent and Raphael, only to come to the scene and see that they have died from poison? They find a sample and give it to Dr. Graham Bell who 'track' but he is lost, so he tells them to go ask Dr. Henry Jekyll, the world-famous alchemist and chemist. They do, and Henry just has such a grim expression when they tell him why they are here and he simply states that he killed them. He killed his brothers because he was tired of being forced to work for Templars and Blighters and he would rather have died himself than continue to work a single more day for them. The twins are impressed and ask him to work for them instead, Henry sees no idea in trying to decline since he literally just confessed to murdering his own brothers to them, and just asks them to keep quiet about it and make sure he gets paid well <3

I do love the idea of one of the twins getting hit with the pseudo poison though, and especially if it's Jacob so later on he can joke that he fell in love with Henry the moment his poison dart hit his body, or that Henry's love infected him like the poison he hit him with <3

...Y'know this is so much goddamn foreshadowing to the actual game I'm actually realizing rn. Oh my fucking god I can't wait for you to meet Maxwell. That's going to be so fucking funny I just realized that in this story Henry is basically just Maxwell but actually a good person-- or Jacob technically get Maxwell's role oh my fucking god XD

--

...Jfc Darlene. Just knock some people off of the carriage and it will be much easier. I do that just to be quick getting down a single block, it's nbd. It's especially fun when knocking down police carriages XD

[rosysugarr]

sorry if i might have come on a bit too aggressive there, i can see u didnt actually mean bad, but like, it was kind of a miscommunication there also the c!phil quote made me see red bc i hate him and im tired of people taking using his words to shit on c!wilbur and c!tommy so i got very defensive pretty quick. it was just way too close to other takes ive seen villainising ctommy and cwilbur so i was like BRUHHHHH

i think im starting to understand what u were trying to say, idk, im still a bit confused out here, but i can see u didnt actually mean anything bad so i just wanted to say this bc i dont actually like being mean

Oh no that's completely fine! I'm sorry my response was so confusing slkjdfa like. Again, it was one of those things that made sense in my head, but, y'know. Autism and all that.

To try and clarify exactly what my original post was trying to say, like... it isn't at all that I was trying to villanize or shit on c!Wilbur. I've actually said for months now that c!Wilbur isn't all evil or all good, but somewhere inbetween-- he's someone who's been so hurt and so damaged by the things that've happened to him and his own apparent mental illness that he struggles a whole lot. He has done things that were painful for people close to him, but I don't think he would hurt them intentionally, other than when he was at his lowest, most delusional and paranoid point during Pogtopia.

I don't think c!Wilbur is a bad man. He's a very sick man whose experiences have only made his paranoia and delusions significantly worse. But my intention was never to say that he's a bad person. The intention was much more to point out how, like... he has the charisma and silver tongue of a leader, but he just isn't emotionally stable enough to stick the landing once he gets something started, you know? Even if he wins, he can't seem to handle just accepting that win, he's always got to try to push it further and do more until it inevitably falls apart. Which could absolutely be due to his being so damaged and feeling as if he doesn't deserve stability and happiness.

I hope this helps to clear things up a little more, and please, it's okay! I understand that sometimes my thoughts come out only partially-formed-- it's the kinda thing where it's like... I know what I'm thinking, so I speak thinking everybody else will get what I mean, and end up leaving out something super important so everyone is just confused as fuck skdfjla

[whumpasaurus101]

Triangle: Asher, let/have your romantic training take over, maybe use it to take advantage of Jack, y'know I'm sure he would love to see that side of you ;)

CW: amnesia / mind-controlled / brainwashed whumpee / I don't know how to tag it but basically brainwashed whumpee trying to touch someone sexually 

Gonna put this under the line just in case :D

Asher and Jack were cuddling on Asher’s mattress, Rodger had long gone to bed by then. He was a deep sleeper too. So, Jack and Asher had a perfect opportunity to do whatever they wanted, but Asher was feeling off today.

He guessed it was just tiredness, he normally felt like shit when he got too tired. He was cuddled into Jack’s chest. He focussed on the warmth that radiated off of him as he shivered. Jack had one arm gently rubbing his back and the other carding through Asher’s hair. 

Jack froze as he saw a tear roll down Asher’s cheek. “Ash?” There was a sniffle and Asher whispered something. Too quiet for Jack to understand. “Ash, hey, what’s wrong?” The next words made Jack’s heart feel like it had been stabbed multiple times, blended up and beaten up. Yes, that bad.

“I'm sorry sir.” Jack wanted to get sick. He had no experience with this he had no clue what to do! “No, no, Ash, hey, it's Jack!” Jack cringed as his voice raised from desperation. Asher flinched, “No! Please, I'm sorry! Pl-please don't be angry!” Tears were streaming down his face.

A few tears rolled down Jack’s cheek too, it upset him seeing Asher like this, “No, Asher please, your name is Asher, you're with me, Jack, who loves you so much o-okay? No one’s angry, you're alright.”

Oh, how Jack wished he could tell Asher he was safe, but he couldn't, neither of them were. Asher was struggling against Jack’s tight grip which held him tight to his chest, whispering useless comfort to Asher. Then, Asher just went still, Jack’s heartbeat picked up, was he okay?

A hand suddenly slid up towards Jack’s zip of his jeans. “Asher? Asher, no.” Asher flinched back and that's when he full broke down into sobs. “Ash, shh, it's okay. Where are you right now?” In between gulps for air, Asher replied, “M-my training room, it's so- so dark. And- and he's there.”

Jack’s eyebrows furrowed as he planted a kiss against Asher’s hair, “Okay, who's there?” Asher whined, “Please help me.” Jack bit his lip to stop himself from crying, “I know doll, I need you to tell me.”  Asher took a few steady breaths, “H-handler Demetri.”

Jack didn't know who the hell that was but he could only guess. “Okay, hey. It's alright, you feel my hand,” He gently squeezed Asher’s hand ever so slightly and Asher nodded. “Okay, good, now you keep focusing on my voice and my touch, you're not in trouble, you're okay.” He gently moved his hands softly up and down Asher’s arms and moved one hand to twirl Asher’s hair against his finger.

After a while of Asher muttering apologies and whimpers, it eventually went quiet. Asher sat up quickly and looked at Jack, “Oh my- oh fuck, I’m so sorry, I didn't mean to-” Jack stood up and silently hugged him. Asher could feel Jack crying, he felt terrible.

taglist:

@as-a-matter-of-whump @appy-polly-loggies @milk-carton-offical  @yesthisiswhump @likeit-or-whumpit

[relictale-miniverse]

Broken Soul/short story

Shira was aimlessly walking trough the cold woods not far from the town, thinking of a way to fix the problem she had on her soul and body, she let out a sigh while she sat down a tree a bit tired from the walk and her pain and thinking of many things

"What am I going to do..?..*sigh* I'm running out of options.. Hmm, Kuro has been so quiet lately.." She talked to herself while closing her eyesokets for a moment.

Before she could say anything else a medium sized shadow started forming behind her only to show up in front of her.

"....Hello~"

It was none other than Kuro herself she seemed to be able to gain some sort physical from, Shira looked in confusion and shock as she quickly stood up.

"Like my new trick?" Kuro chuckled

"Wha-!? H-how did you--"

"Do this? Heheh ah, y'know, took few codes here and there and well..you can't stop me in the state you are, now.."

Shira looked in mere confusion and shock still trying to prosses what was going on just now and before she could react to anything, Kuro grabbed her by the neck and lift her up, slamming and pinning her against the tree.

"Ngh..l-let..go-!!"

*Not until you give me what i want...my half of that soul..I got sick of being stuck in your body so i figure a way.. These codes worked nicely now, what i need is my soul and I'll be on my way."

Shira struggled to break free but the more she did the tighter Kuro's grip got, only to leave her gasping for air..

"You...can't do this...!"

"Oh, shut it I can do whatever I please~ After I'm done with you I'll just need to get a human soul to complete my body..now I'll take what's mine."

Kuro laughed as she force Shira's soul out of her body and onto her hand, as she took her half Shira started to struggle less and less..

"Hm? Tsk, dying already? Wow... Pfft so weak, You are nothing without me.. Well, have fun dusting alone~"

As Kuro left trough a portal on reach for a human Soul, Shira struggle to move as managed to sit down that tree her body was numb, her half soul was getting weaker by the second..she couldn't move any further...

"...s-someone... Ple...ase..."

......

To be continued...

//welp finally got those two apart- Kuro is a single skelle now on reach for half of a human soul ٩( ᐛ )و also excuse my terrible writing- but making a comic about this was too much work ;;  uh yeah

[moody-cowdaddy]

That's The Way It Is

Arthur Morgan x Reader | Oneshot/Drabble #2

Summary: Everything comes to an end sooner, or later.

Category/Trigger Warning: Emotional Turmoil, Angst, Drama, Character Death.

A/N: This is really just a blurb/drabble. It's not part of an actual story or the imagines. I just wanted to write an emotional turmoil/devastating piece of what I think Arthur's last words to the reader would be.

××××

"And for you,

For you, I would brave the wolves,

And for you,

For you, I would sacrifice my heart.

Starting with the most obvious part,

That sad enough place has gotten me through the dark,

Dying just to reach you,

As the horizon fades,

The sun begins to rise."

××××

Things had gonna from bad to worse. On top of the Saint Denis bank heist going to shit - Hosea and Lenny were killed, and that was one of the biggest losses the group had ever taken, loosing one half of the gang's voices of reason, especially. It shifted the whole feeling of the group. To top that off, you had been sick out of your mind with worry when Arthur and some of the others, including Dutch, had been stranded on some island for weeks called Guarma. It took all you could do to hold your sanity together, out of your mind with worry wondering where he was.

But, when they all finally returned, safely, it gave the group just the smallest amount of hope for the moment, that maybe this whole situation could be beaten.. That was until the Pinkertons showed up again, so, the last few weeks had been nothing but running and running and running. You were low on places to go now, and there was an ominous feeling that hung over everyone's head.

That ominous feeling manifested itself for you when Arthur became extremely sick weeks prior. You all had noticed for a while that he had a terrible cough that seemed to only persist day by day, but with the way you were all stuck living, it just seemed maybe he was under the weather due to circumstances. Once he finally went to a doctor, nothing about it was good news. He had contracted the white plague itself - Tuberculosis.

You didn't want to believe him when he told you what his diagnosis was.

"There's nothin' that can be done?!" You pleaded with him.

He shook his head, coughing, "N-no, darlin'. Doctor gave me a shot to keep me goin'. Said I needed rest," he laughed as he said it, amused by the statement.

You pressed your hands to his face, tears forming in the corners of your eyes as you sat on his cot beside him. "This can't happen. Not now, not like this."

He placed a hand on your knee. "Things is about to change, (Y/N)."

"Yeah, an' not for the goddamn better, Arthur," you rasped, "Ya can't leave me." You laid your head over onto his shouler, a sense of dread filling you so completely that you thought you might pass out.

"I don't want to, y'know that, but y'gotta prepare yerself for the worst now. I still gotta take care'a you an' the rest'a these folks. So, I need ya to listen to me now, sweetheart." He turned to you, gently grabbing your face with his hands. "Dutch ain't the same no more, an' if you, or anybody else stays with him, y'ain't gonna survive another year. We had a real chance of gettin' outta here.. An' like'a fool, I was too blinded to see that he never wanted to. All this talk'a dreams an' goin' off to live on some goddamn island was a bunch'a bullshit. Dutch don't want outta this way of life. He never did."

"Runaway. Drop everythin' an' runaway with me now, Arthur. Please," you begged him with everything you had in you.

He looked at you longingly, like he wanted to say yes. His eyes that were once so bright and lively, were now bloodshot and weak. He was pale, and losing weight almost daily as the sickness grew inside of him as that tell-tale rattling in his chest became louder and louder.

He shook his head. "I can't. Not now, (Y/N). I gotta help these people. I gotta try an' help as best I can while I still got time. I'ma bad man, but I ain't gonna just run off an' forget my responsibilities. I gotta do what I gotta do to keep y'all safe."

"Then come with me after. I want a life with you, Arthur. I wanna do things right, an' I wanna stop runnin' for my life every goddamn day. I just want you. I wanna have your children, an' I wanna grow old with you in a place we can call our own." The tears streamed down your cheeks now as you looked up at him, still begging.

He squeezed your face in his hands. "I want that. I do. I want that more than anythin', sugar.. But when the time comes, y'gotta run an' don't look back. That means whether I'm with you, or not."

"But, Arthur," you growled.

"Promise me," he breathed, blinking at you with tears seeping from the corner of his own eyes.

"Arthur," you sobbed again, squeezing his shoulders.

"Just promise me, darlin'," his voice cracked as he spoke, "Or else all of this'll be for nothin'."

You glared at him, knowing that there was no real way to convince him otherwise. Once Arthur made up his mind about something, that was that. All you could do was sit here and nod your head, and try to accept that he wanted to do the right thing. It made your heart ache even more to know that he truly was a good man. You bellowed, throwing yourself onto him, burying your head deep into his chest. You closed your eyes tightly, the tears staining his shirt as you prayed to God to wake you up from this nightmare.

All you could do now was hold onto him and salvage the time that you had left.

~A few weeks later~

'When the time comes, you gotta run an' don't look back,' Arthur's voice rang through your memory.

In the last 2 weeks, the gang had completely fallen into ruin. Half of the members that had grown to become like family to you were dead now, and the other half had up and left. Dutch had gone completely mad, putting all of his trust and reliance into Micah, who turned out to be just what everyone else could see that he was - a rat. He had been the one sifting information to the pinkertons about the gang and their whereabouts, all along.

You, Arthur and John were on the run for your lives now. The Pinkertons were hot on your trail as you raced through the mountains east of the Grizzlies, trying your best to outrun them, but that had become harder and harder to do. They had surrounded the area, and as much as you wanted to escape, to go on and to live happy lives.. It really didn't look like that was a possibility anymore. Dutch had led everyone on for so long, and this was now the price of that.

Arthur looked back as you scaled up the side of one of the small mountains, overlooking the ground below to make sure that the Pinkertons weren't right on your tail for the moment. You closed your eyes tightly, fearing for the worst as you were coming to terms with the fact that this wasn't a fairytale, and every action had a consequence one that all of you would pay dearly for. There wasn't bound to be a happy ending for this story.

Arthur bowed over, gasping and breathing hard as he tried his best to gain some energy to keep going. He coughed wildly, spitting out blood onto the gravel beneath his feet. He pulled himself back up, looking to the ground below before he turned his gaze to you, taking a step closer.

"Push it, Arthur!" John encouraged him.

Arthur shook his head, "No. I think I pushed all I can."

"We ain't got time for this now," John urged to him.

Arthur put his hand up, silencing John as he looked at you. "(Y/n), darlin'. We can't choose our fate."

He looked over his shoulder, checking once more. You could hear the rattling deep down in his chest as he struggled to breathe, and you could hear the sounds of men far off in the distance as they tore the woods apart, searching for you. Arthur turned back to you again, the devestated expression becoming more and more pronounced on his tired, sickly face.

"Mine was laid out for me a long time ago," he continued, "I lived this life, an' I gotta answer for it now. I never gave it up. Not for Mary, not for my own good, an' not even for my boy. But since I met ya, it's left me wantin' to go back in time, an' made me wanna be a better man than I was. Maybe I wouldn't've went down this path like this. I wish i'da got the chance to do things different, an' I wish I coulda done it with you.." he coughed roughly, his breathe ripping through his swollen lungs like knives.

He laid a hand across his mouth. His breathing becoming more labored as he struggled to speak.

Tears began to fall down your cheeks as you squeezed his hands tightly. "Don't you talk like that, you still can. We can get outta here. Me and you."

He smiled weakly, shaking his head at you. "We ain't both gonna make it, (Y/N)."

"Arthur. Don't you dare." You glared at him.

The tears welled up so heavily in your eyes that he was just a blurry figure in your line of sight now. He pulled his hat off his head and placed it on top yours, along with pulling his satchel off of his shoulders to put it around your shoulders. This gesture from him made you gasp for breath, doing your best to hold back your desperate sobs.

"what I can make right is making sure you get the hell outta here and live your life. You're good, (Y/N). Too damn good for me, an' I was a lucky man to have ya for even a second," he said sincerely, pulling you into him to give you a hug.

You grabbed onto him tightly, digging your nails into his back as you buried your face into his chest. He had become more and more frail over these last weeks, and you could feel just how much he really had now. The Tuberculosis diagnosis had took a heavy toll on him, and he was terribly underweight. You cried into his chest, trying your hardest to savor this moment with him, hoping against hope that he'd change his mind and come with you. You loved this man more than anything in the world. You could hear the faint beating of his heart in his chest, it was almost drowned out by the sound of the sickness in his lungs.

The sounds of the men in the distance were starting to close in on you now.

"Go," he whispered, his voice cracking as he pulled your head back to look down at you. He gestured his head to you and John. "I'll hold 'em off "

"Arthur," John snapped, trying to persuade him to come with the two of you.

"John, I'm countin' on you to get her an' yerself outta here." He said, giving John the stern directions.

"Arthur Morgan," You growled so roughly through gritted teeth that you could feel it send a sharp pain through your vocal cords.

"Go," Arthur commanded louder to the both of you. He pointed at john. "Get the hell outta here an' be a goddamn man."

You frantically grabbed for Arthur's jacket, but he pulled you back by yours arms, forcing you to let him go. He looked down at you with tears in his own eyes now. "You told me once that were all gonna die someday, an' darlin', I'm sad to say that day is here for me. Even if I came with ya, I'd have a few weeks, maybe. Please, go an' live y'life for me. There'll be time for sorrow later, y'gonna be alright, girl."

"I can't lose you. You were it for me," you cried.

"An' you was for me, (Y/N). But they'd never stop chasin' us now, even if I wasn't already on my deathbed with this goddamn sickness. They want me an' Dutch dead. I love you, darlin'. More than anythin'."

"Let me stay," you pleaded, "John can escape. Let me stay here with you. Better I go out in a hail of bullets than to be without you."

He quickly shook his head at you. "You an' I both know I ain't gone let y'do that."

You gasped for your own breathe, the devastation was caving in on you quickly now. You had exhausted all of your options, none of them which he would let you go along with.

"I love you, girl. Just remember that," he said.

"I- I l-love you t-too," you stammered, crying so hard now that you could barely speak.

"You're my brother," John called out from behind you.

"I know." Arthur nodded, pulling away from you.

You still tried your best to hang onto him, in a last ditch effort to convince him, but John finally grabbed your arm, pulling you away, because you had no time left now. You tried to push him off, fighting and clawing at him as you screamed for Arthur, but he held you so tightly that all you could do was watch on in horror and complete despair as your whole world crumbled down in front of you as you saw the man you loved dying, trying to give you a better chance at life by sacrificing his own, but it was one that you couldn't imagine without him.

You dropped you your knees as you watched him go, with John's arms still wrapped around you to keep you in place. He pulled you up with all of his strength, throwing you onto his shoulder as he turned the opposite way to escape.

Arthur looked back at the both of you once more, exchanging a nod of goodbye before he turned and made his way back down the mountain towards the Pinkertons, his revolver in hand.

[adroitsolidity]

"Chains Won't Hold Me Down"

❇

It seemed like taboo to even think about the fact that things had seemed to settle back down after Damian left the CIA, and Zach had simply just /thought/ about the fact that things seemed calmer and then they started to fall apart again a bit a week or so after Damian left. Zach didn't feel much better, and still couldn't for the life of him figure out why, and it didn't seem to matter how much he racked his brain trying to figure it out. Things were changing, they seemed so different, and Zach struggled to figure out why. He continued to try and keep Conner and Braxton happy and free from concern, while he carried a lot on his shoulders. Something about being around Conner was different, but Zach didn't know if it was just all of the stress or if he was simply overthinking, and he did the best he could to shrug it off and simply work through it, being his quirky self and making lame jokes and movie references like he always did. What was it that was making Zach feel so much conflict? He was carrying a lot on his own, and he continued to struggle to figure out exactly what it was. He didn't know, he had no idea, and it had started to fester to a point where he was being left speechless.

It didn't escape Braxton's notice, and it especially didn't escape Conner's, but Zach kept doing what he could to just laugh it off and reassure them that he was okay. When he was alone, though, his mind absolutely reeled, and Conner was the most difficult one to hide it from because he was very observant, and Zach knew that he wasn't fooling anyone, especially not Conner. His heart and mind seemed to be doing a lot of different things, and it was all really confusing to Zach so he ended up spending most of his time in the training room, trying to keep his distance from most people while he tried to un-jumble everything in his head. He felt something...something he'd never felt and couldn't put a label on. But what? It was frustrating him, and he went at a punching bag more aggressively than what was normal for him until he heard a female voice he was more than tired of hearing over the intercom saying his name. Zach stopped going at the bag and stood in front of it, snapping his eyes shut and heaving an irritated sigh as he listened.

"Zachariah Morone, report to the Executives' office for yearly evaluation."

He growled under his breath and groaned in frustration before hitting the bag /hard/ and then moving before it swung back and hit him, then he took the gloves he was wearing off and unwrapped his hands as he made his way over to the door, setting those things on a bench before exiting the training room and making his way to the elevator. His brown eyes were dark and stony, and his jaw was clenched as he watched the number go up before the doors finally slid open. Zach walked out of the elevator and turned down the hallway that led to the Executive office, on edge just like he was every time he had to go in there as soon as the door finally came into view, and he heaved another sigh and clenched his jaw a little bit tighter before stopping in front of the closed door. He raised a hand to knock on the door but hesitated, holding his hand up for a moment and taking a breath before finally making himself knock on the door, then he took a step back and waited for them to either open the door or simply tell him to enter.

Footsteps approached the door from the other side, and Zach looked down at the crack on the bottom of the door to see a shadow from under the door, and he took another step back and looked back up as soon as he heard the door being opened. The woman that he'd had to deal with more times than he cared to think about gave him a once over before she motioned for him to enter the room, and he shook his head a little and walked past her and into the room, looking around at everyone before focusing on the woman who was standing in front of him again. Without even thinking about it, he had been standing at attention but was also taking in everything that was going on around him, just like he had always been told.

"Agent Morone. Born Zachariah Emmanuel Morone. Date of Birth, August 8th, 1993. He's been an agent for 7 years, and has worked very closely with Director McAlister."

Zach's gut seemed to jolt ever so slightly as he listened to the woman speak, like she did every time she did an evaluation of his progress, but it seemed to trigger something different in Zach that time around. It made some of the frustration he'd been feeling before come back, but he bit it back and stayed quiet. Conner always told Zach to never give them any kind of reaction because it was what they wanted, it was what they were looking for. They used people as weapons, so if Zach did anything to spark their interest, they would have gone after him, too. So as much as Zach wanted to beat the living daylights out of every single person in that room, he didn't only because Conner had told him not to. His gut seemed to jolt a bit every time he thought about anything Conner said or did, or when he just heard his name, and that had never happened to him before. It made him furrow his brow ever so slightly, but his attention was pulled away when one of the men in the room started to speak, and his gaze moved from the woman in front of him to a man standing off to his right. The knife that Conner had bought Zach was on his belt in its sheath, right where it always was, but he felt the weight of it a bit as he listened to what the man had to say, using every ounce of willpower he had to not pull it out and use it on them.

"There was an incident recently that seemed to render the Director...distracted. And I believe that, if I gathered the right information, /you/ were involved."

An indication that he was involved, taking in what they were saying, or was even the least bit interested was expected of him, but he got very stubborn and simply didn't give them one, staying completely quiet and still as the man began to speak again. Conner's words were echoing in Zach's head, and he continued to give them absolutely nothing; no reaction, just nothing. His eyes were dangerous and his expression was neutral, but he didn't give them anything else to go off of.

"The Director is our most important asset. We can't afford for him to be distracted for any reason, so we need you to keep your distance for a short while. We'll have one of our specialized trainers come in and work with you. But we can't have our best asset distracted in any way. His power and influence are far too valuable to us."

Zach couldn't do it anymore. It was going to go against everything Conner had told him, but they were talking about him like he was some weapon, again, and that finally made Zach just crack and lose what little composure he'd managed to keep up to that point. He knew he was going to be sorry for speaking out, but on the other hand he couldn't find it in himself to care and was in full-blown "retaliation mode".

"No. Y'know what...that's a bunch of bullshit. Fuck you and your specialized trainer. He's not a god damn weapon...he's a human being. I'm not gonna work with another trainer, I work for Conner and that's it."

He paused for a moment and looked around the room, cutting off the woman when she went to speak and turning his attention back to the man that had been responsible for setting Zach off, his tone getting lower and more dangerous as he locked his eyes onto the guy and continued.

"His name's Conner. He isn't just some damn weapon, he isn't just your fucking 'asset'. That's a person, you demented fucks. Not some war machine you can just sick on people! Not just some killer you can send wherever the fuck you want! And no..."

He turned his attention from the man back over to the woman that he had cut off before, his tone very dangerous at that point.

"He isn't my brother. Not anymore. He's more important than that. It's /you/ that have been hurting him! Not me! And I'll face off against all of you if I have to, and I'll do it for him! I don't give a damn if you hurt me, or talk down to me! But you're not gonna get to treat him like some fucking prize anymore! Ya wanna come at me like I'm nothing? Then fucking do it!"

Movement from the corner of Zach's eye suddenly caught his attention, and one of the men off to his right moved in to grab him and pull him away from the woman. He immediately turned on the guy and harshly grabbed his arm, keeping his footing steady and his grip firm as he shifted and moved to throw the guy through the table that was in the middle of the room before he turned on one of the others that came at him. He dodged a punch and grabbed another man's wrist, twisting hard and then wrenching it until he heard a loud snap and the guy yelled in pain as Zach threw him to the ground harshly.

Another fist came flying toward Zach's face, and he didn't move in time to dodge that one, getting knocked sideways a bit and groaning as knuckles made contact with his cheekbone. He didn't feel a crack, but he knew he was definitely going to have yet another bruise on his face, that one a fresh one, and he dodged a kick coming at him and pulled out his knife, twirling it between his fingers before lodging it into the woman's leg as she kicked at him again, drowning out her screams and twisting the knife before he pulled it out and kicked her so hard she flew back against the wall. The last one left in the room didn't make a move to go at Zach, and he kept his eyes on him and his knife in his hand, ready to act in the event that the man might change his mind. He didn't, which surprised Zach, but he didn't give it any more of his attention. Zach lashed out at the man and punched him in the face a couple of times before throwing him to the ground, then spit the blood he tasted in his mouth from the one really hard hit he'd taken onto the man's face and threw his badge at him.

"I fucking quit. You all can go to Hell."

With that, Zach turned and walked out of the room, rolling his eyes as he heard hobbled footsteps going to the door and then stopping.

"If you walk out of here, you'll be categorized as a rogue, Zachariah!"

That was enough to make Zach stop in his tracks, and he closed his eyes and clenched his jaw as he thought about that. A rogue. Zach was about to go rogue, even though he was never going back there once he left. The decision was made, though, and even though Zach couldn't get his mind around what he had just done, and the word 'rogue' kept bouncing around in his skull, he couldn't stay there any longer than he had. The feelings he'd been feeling suddenly made sense, and the thing he had wanted to do to them for so long had finally been done, but Zach's mind was so rattled that he didn't have any words, so he just started walking again. He was a rogue, and suddenly, the words he'd said to them about Conner /not/ being his brother were bouncing around in his head too. It made more sense at that moment. Zach loved Conner, he was /in love/ with him, and had fought the highest ranking people in the CIA for him because of how they treated him. He'd done what he had wanted to do, something he thought he wouldn't have ever done, and he was getting ready to walk away from the last seven years of his life.

He was going to pack and get out. That was all there was to it.