#everyday feels like a nightmare i just cannot seem to wake up from now

[basilhusband]

awake with heavy nausea and cannot stop thinking about my appointment today and while i am glad to finally have confirmed and solid answers, i really cannot overstate how devastating it is to learn some of the things i have this year

i'm very thankful for my care team, i don't think i'd be as functional or doing even nearly as well without them. but the sad part about having a care team that really does care is the fact that i am having to face the most uncomfortable truths i have ever had to face. the sad part is that the more i learn, the harder it's gotten. the sad part is i don't know what to do, truthfully. but i'm going to keep doing my best, because that's all i have. i have such a newfound love and appreciation for myself in this new form in which i have not felt ever, i think. i'm one of the strongest people i know, because i have to be for myself. and it sucks. it all really sucks.

[saturnzskyzz]

My Nimona headcannon's!!

I would like to start this off by saying thank you for everyones input with my last post concerning whether or not I should write for Nimona! I'd like to share some headcannon's I have for these lovely characters before I start writing for them! I say this because there may be times where I use my personal headcannon's for them in future fanfics.

Without furthermore, I present to you all! My headcannon's!

I try to color code the names because the white text can hurt my eyes throughout reading. 🥲

Ballister Boldheart

(This dude has two different last names for some reason. I'm using the one from the movie because I haven't read the book all the way)

His favorite color HAS to be periwinkle, you cannot tell me otherwise. He just seems like the type of dude to favor periwinkle because it's a soft color to gaze upon.

Bro has sensory issues, and sometimes will have days where his prosthetic arm will cause him discomfort. I think he would have days where he doesn't wear the prosthetic if he knows he's not going anywhere.

PTSD and Anxiety tics when he thinks back to the ceremony incident. This poor dude cannot get enough of the past.

He will have recurring nightmares of the incident that makes him wake up in cold sweats. (Ambrosius would comfort him anytime he has those nightmares)

Bro has a book collection that are mostly action and thriller genre books. (Maybe even fairytale books)

CRAVES physical affection on a daily basis ever since he’s been away from Ambrosius for so long.

Based on the indented headcannon above, I would say that Ballister wasn't this clingy when he was first with Ambrosius, but now that he had to endure YEARS of not seeing him after the incident, he's been more clingy than Ambrosius has.

He seems the type to run his thumb over Ambrosius’ knuckles as a way to tell him he loves him.

Anytime Him and Ambrosius are together, either sitting next to each other, or walking while holding hands, he’ll lay his head on Ambrosius’ shoulder on instinct.

(Another headcanon I saw) TRANSMASC CODED!!(transmasc is what it says)RAAAAHHHHH 🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍⚧️

One time he shaved his beard and he had to endure Ambrosius’ laughter for a solid 5 minutes at most because of how young he looked to Ambrosius.

Can not stand horror films. Bro clings onto his man everytime there is a jumpscare.

He holds Ambrosius' hand with his actual hand so he can feel the warmth of his lover.

Continuing with the indent, he makes sure that he touches Ambrosius with his actual hand because he fears that there will be a day where he will never see him again. (This one hurts 🥲)

He has insomnia, what can I say?

He treats Nimona like his own, of course. Bro spoils her 24/7.

Ambrosius and Ballister would always pass notes during their training years. (Todd teased them for it)

He's so tenderheaded. He never let's anyone play with his hair unless it's soft strokes.

... Ticklish Stomach. (You didn't hear that from me 🤫)

Going more with the indented. He gets tickled more than he tickles other people.

When he does get into his ler moods however, you better HOPE you can out run this bitch. He turns into a whole new person when in his ler moods.. 😬

Ambrosius Goldenloin

He has frequent meltdowns because he physically cannot get the image of him cutting Bal's arm off out of his mind.

He's Allergic to cats. (=^ェ^=)

Ever since Ballister brought up a nightmare about Ambrosius telling him He doesn't love him, he's been complimenting Bal every morning, and always make sure that he tells him he loves him.

He teases Bal everyday to see his smile when in a flustered state.

He so gossips to Bal about the drama that happened over at the tower when Ambrosius was working for the Director. "Sit down babe, I gotta tell YOU about this one time..."

He pulls Bal closer to him when they cuddle because he has thoughts of Bal being just a dream.

LOVES HORROR MOVIES. He doesn't seem like the type to go on a horror marathon, but he favors the conjuring movies. 🍿 (he drags Bal along with him just so he can watch Bal cling on to him for dear life.)

He leaves little love notes for Bal to wake up to when Ambrosius leaves to run errands.

It took Ambrosius a LONG while for him to feel comfortable around Nimona because he regrets being mean to her when working for the Director.

He's not one to favor reading books, but he always says yes to Bal when agreeing to go to the book store.

Golden retriever, if you will?

One time, he took an animal quiz with Bal and Nimona to see which animals they would be, and he was mad for the rest of the day when he got a dolphin and not a dog.

He's not that sensitive when it comes to tickling, but Bal knows one spot that gets Ambrosius to take back whatever he might have said to Bal. *cough* *cough* ticklish knees *cough* DAMN, I need a new keyboard, this ones barely working. 👨‍💻 /j

a second dad to Nimona.

Nimona

One time she turned into a shark and had Bal walk with her around the neighborhood because he tried to scare Nimona. (She's petty like that)

She has night terrors of the well and Gloreth.

She makes it her JOB to embarrass Bal and Ambrosius when they kiss in public. "Get a room!" "Okay you two LOVE BIRDS!"

She pretends to fall asleep next to Bal so he can put a blanket over her due to being lazy.

One time she locked Bal outside of his home because he won a board game.

She so listens to Evanescence. (Maybe even Avenged sevenfold)

Every Christmas, she hangs up a mistle toe for Bal and Ambrosius, but she still acts disgusted when they kiss under it.

When she's stressed, she shapeshifts into a bird and flies around the city to calm herself down when Bal and Ambrosius aren't at Bal's home.

LOVES to sing outloud.

One time she called Diego out for reading fanfiction when hanging out with Bal and Ambrosius.

"Guys, Diego is reading fanfiction again.." Nimona pointed at Diego's phone.

"Am NOT!" Diego hid his phone away from the others in disbelief.

"Dude, how many times do we have to say it, we don't care if you read fanfiction, just do it on a day where we're NOT hanging out." Ambrosius sighed heavily.

On chill days where Bal, Ambrosius, and Nimona are all hanging out in Bal's livingroom, she would draw, paint, or color a picture.

I feel like she wants to because an artist. She has the creativity and mind like one!

It looks like her favorite color would be pink because of the implications of her shapeshifting into pink animals, but I think her favorite color would be like some type of orange-y red color.

She's a gift giver. She would be the type of person to gift someone a drawing with their favorite color as the main visual.

She seems like a Ler to me. I don't think she's very ticklish, but then again; with her backstory, I don't think she really knows what tickling is until she popped into Bal's and Ambrosius' lives. (Them two lovely doves brings up too many tickle fights around Nimona.)

Diego the Squire

He reads AND writes Ao3 fanfictions (he reads them more than he writes them)

The movie portrays him as a distrusting and closed minded person, but I really think he's a hesitant people pleaser.

He avoids conflict BIG TIME.

He so sleeps with stuffed animals. (me too bro, me too)

His social battery is ALWAYS on an all time low.

He avoids small children after what Nimona pulled that one time.

He gives off gay or bi energy.

He blames himself for not showing Bal the video of the director sooner.

Bro has a sweet tooth.

He doesn't seem like the type of person to celebrate Holloween.

I like to believe that he admired the knights who worked for the queen, so he worked his hardest to become the queens Squire as a way to gain recognition due to the fear of being forgotten. Even though the Squire seems like a really overlooked job, everyone knows Diego at the tower, and is mostly favored by many knights.

He was really close with the queen when training to be a Squire. Apart from Ballister and the other knights, I think her death hit him the hardest.

After showing Ballister and Nimona the video evidence of the director sabotaging the ceremony, he had a HUGE wave of guilt put on him, so he soon forced himself to become unknown to everyone from the tower, and the outside world. (I only say this because he was never seen at the ending of the movie from what I remember.) [please tell me otherwise, I don't want to spread misinformation.]

100% lee. Bros too scared to touch other people.

Thoddeus Sureblade

He's an asshole, but he also cries himself to sleep because of the regret he feels after being disrespectful to others.

He makes way too many dirty jokes for his own good.

He feels incredibly bad for all the times he would beat up Ballister. He only did it because he thought that Bal and Nimona were the monsters, and not the Director.

He still has a hard time accepting the fact that the Director was the one who sabotaged the ceremony. He knows she's a monster, but he worked for her for YEARS. That takes a lot of development honestly.

Bro tried to have his hair smell like lavender because of how much he looks up to Ambrosius. (This WILL be cannon 🫵 /j)

One time he accidentally got one of Bal's and Ambrosius' notes during training class, and decide he wanted to mess with them by sending a note back. (Let's say he never done that again.)

His love language is quality time. If he hangs out with you almost everyday, that's him saying he loves your company. (When did this turn into some romance shit? ⚰️)

Favors board games over online games. If you say or ask anything about video games, he would walk the other direction.

Continuing with the indent; he gets really competitive with board games.

He also has the fear of being forgotten. Hence why he was always jealous of Ambrosius. He always wants to lead everyone to the right direction, but is always overlooked upon because Ambrosius would come in and "steal" his spotlight. (Not saying that Ambrosius was trying to)

He favors salty more than sweets.

100% ler. Bro tickles everybody when given the chance to.

I don't think he's the ticklish type, but getting a certain spot will probably make him giggle at most.

That's all! I hope you enjoyed these headcannon's!

Please let me know if you have any headcannon's for these characters! I would love to know your thoughts on them!!

Anyways! I'm gonna work on the fanfic now that this is out of the way 🏃💨

Take care and always live yourself!!

[charlie-morningstar666]

Set Me Free

(Lyrics by me. Based on the current situation around this blog. Trigger warning:Self-Harm mention. Emotional/Mental Abuse. Nothing is really showed just a bunch of mentions)

Every time, I wake up..just to see the sunrise once more..every time, I get up…just to see the day passing again..I know I should be happy..but I can’t help to feel the opposite..soon one day, I’ll rule this hell…but for now..I…just can’t….because in the ennnddd…I can feel the voices coming inside my head..telling meee to just sufferrr…..when will this end?….

I wake up to this cell of nightmares! Chain of all the abuse I’m dealing! It’s too much to bear!..make all my scars harmless..please..set me free from this cell! I’ll do anything just to feel a little joy!…please, don’t make another comment!..don’t make another excuse! All I ever wanted is to be happy, but nowww that is gone! I JUST WANT TO BE FREE

Clock is tickling everyday..the time is moving everyday..why can’t it slow down for once so I can finally just think?…everything is moving too fast.:everything is too fast..can the pace slow down for a second?…voices are whispering…my chest is pounding…my mind is spinning like there’s no tomorrow!!..please get me out..PLEASE GET ME OUT!!

(GET ME THE FUCK OUT!!)

I wake up to this cell of nightmares! Chain of all the abuse I’m dealing! It’s too much to bear!..make all my scars I gain seem all painless!!..please..set me free from this cell! I’ll do anything just to feel a little joy!…please, don’t make another comment!..don’t make another excuse! All I ever wanted is to be happy, but nowww that is gone! I JUST WANT TO BE FREE

(Listen to me, dearly. Mother knows best. Do as you are told. Listen and pay attention, dearly. Soon you’ll be THE HEIR OF THE THRONE)

The pain..the stress…I cannot control….everything I do..ended up in mess..everyone I trusted..has either hurt me or I’ve hurt themmm..is this what I get..for being so kind and calm?…is this the new me..broken and in pain?….when will this pain end?….

(Don’t worry, my dear. Stop being a crybaby…you must learn how to beeee….momma’s here to make things better..listen to my v-)

(LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!!!!!!)

I wake up to this cell of nightmares! Chain of all the abuse I’m feeling! It’s too much to bear!..make all these thoughts so painful and harmful!!!..please..set me free from this cell! I’ll do anything just to feel a little joy!…PLEASE, don’t make another comment!..don’t make another excuse! All I ever wanted is to be happy, but nowww that is gone! I JUST WANT TO BE FREE

(All I ever wannteeeddd-)

Please set me free!!

(-Is now a memory)

Stop this and do it please!

(NOW MY NEW DESIRE IS-)

PLEASE ALL I WANT IS-

To

Be

Frrrreeeeeee

(I hope you enjoy the lyrics. Spend a lot of this. If you wanna analysis this or draw a fanart or whatever. As long as you credit me, we shouldn’t have a problem. Have a good day everyone)

[allmothsdied]

Can you wake can you wake can you wake me up

I'm awake but not real not real nothing is real

Insomnia's torturing me with smile and rotten teeth

I'm opening my eyes but gray is all I can see

Walking on shards walking naked walking in pain

Let me breath I begg, and making myself bleed

Nothing seems to help nothing changes even tho I try

And I try and I try and I try and I fail each single time

Can you reach to me now cause I've fallen deeper in

It feels like sleep but it's just not living not being alive

Can you love can you love can you love me now even when

Everything darken with my touch

And I'm burning my world down, wanting better

but doing worse doing worse doing worse

I'm trapped in

I'm falling deeper down and no one ever stays

Cause I'm nothing than killer of light nothing than killer of love killer of myself

And the red on my hands it's the regret and it's my fault

But I try but I try but I try and I still fucked it all up

Each single time

I wanna live wanna die wanna run away and hide

All at once all at once all at once

I'm stranger to myself stranger to myself

And I don't deserve any kind of love

So I let it hurt and hurt and it's killing me

Nothing could make me clean again, I'm rotting inside out

Collecting sins collecting bad things while I begg for you to save me now

But I know I'm far from grace I cannot be saved

Wanting to get worse wanting to get better

But going in circles making myself trapped in

I'm a monster I should stay forever locked in

And I'm lost inside would you dare to make me found?

Can you heal can you heal can you heal me now

When for a moment I'm ready to finally fight

But I'm unsure what for I'm unsure about everything

And I'm scared I'm so fucking scared I'm scarring myself

Washing away vomits washing away all the blood

Trying to breath in trying to breath out

Why world feels so blurred so far away?

And I can't shake the images of broken mirror,

of glass shreds and the sound it makes as it fall

I can't shake the feeling when he touched me as he took what wasn't his as he took without any right

Way too many faces that have left me everyone leaves me in the end

And it's not fair it's not fair it's not fucking fair

I was a child and needed to be okay needed to be safe

And I should be better by now but it's like I can't

And they said no one will save you and they're right

But I need to be held I still need to feel safe

But I could simply not make me love myself

I'm crying in pain everyday I'm crying everyday

And every day doesn't end it never ends

I need to get out get the fuck out but I'm tied on the floor here in the dark

And things are better when I pretend and I try to pretend but lately I can't

Can anybody love me? Whisper the night

And the voices inside my head laughs they laughs

Wanting me to simply die waiting for me to finally give up

And dream in the forever peace

And it's so fucked up it's sick it's so fucked up

I am chaos I am mess

I am nightmare of sunny days I am nightmare when you try to look inside me

You would wish you've never met me

That's why I hate myself so damn much

And it's more I could bear

Can you wake can you wake can you wake me up

Cause I'm not real it's all not real I don't wanna be real

Tell me you can love tell me you can love tell me you can love me tell that sweet little lie

So I could fall asleep tonight

Tell me you would stay tell me you wouldn't leave tell me I have hope

Tell all those sweet fucking lies I begg you lie to me

So for a while I would feel alive

Lie to me please lie to me please lie to me cause lies are all I could ever keep

[gingerhastoomanyobsessions]

so. based on this post of mine, which was based on this post and the addition by @animate-mush, I have been braining on a vampire!jonathan modern reincarnation au. au soup. and while I may not have the stamina to write it (and the million and one other ideas I have), i have been able to outline it.

angst and such below because I love to torment the blorbos <3

• vamp!jonathan tries to confine mina in the castle that he took over from the count. there are no vampire brides to terrorize her, no pack of wolves at her door, just jonathan, desperate and obsessive and so filled with a dark, twisted kind of love. “they took you from me once, they’re not taking you again.” 

• she wants to leave. she has a life back in england and very little idea of who jonathan is at this point. all she knows is that his face is familiar in a way that should scare her. 

• she escapes one night through a window. they’re eating dinner together (if you can call it “together” when it��s only her eating and him sipping from a glass of what looks like wine) when he again begins pouring out a torrent of affection towards her, asking her for the hundredth time if she remembers him. she says no, truthfully, and through tears tells him that if he loves her as he says, he would give her her freedom. “I too can love,” he says passionately, before freezing, his eyes going wide and staring somewhere else as he realizes who he sounds like. who he’s become. she takes this moment to flee. he doesn’t chase her. not yet.  • but he knows where she’s going. • mina manages to stumble through the woods, using her ingenuity and sheer desperation to survive, until she finds her way into a train station. she ends up in a convent, cared for by the nuns, who write to lucy to say that mina has been crying in her sleep and calling out jonathan’s name. whether she’s screaming in protest or calling out forhim, they cannot say. 

• lucy comes to care for her and bring her back home. on the way, the nightmares keep getting worse. mina keeps dreaming of a life she doesn’t remember living. soon, everyday glimpses of things, of people, make her stop and stare into space. she thinks she’s losing her mind. first vampires, now past lives?

• lucy takes her to whitby to recover. they tour the old abbey, the lighthouse, the graveyard. it’s at the graveyard that lucy stops, now. “I feel like I’ve been here before.” 

• and mina knows. she knows what happened to lucy last time. when they wake to the news that a ship crashed into whitby harbor, mina and lucy know that now is the time to run. 

• they return home. both of them are remembering more and more. lucy’s friends/boyfriends— an exchange student in college from Texas, an aspiring psychology student, and her boy-next-door childhood friend— get involved, worried sick about how lucy seems to be deteriorating. it looks like she’s having a crisis of nerves, according to seward.

• it looks so much like it, in fact, that when lucy starts to weaken, he dismisses it.

• mina knows what this is. she remembers glimpses. god, it’s her fault, and it’s happening all over again. 

• seward insists that she seek professional help. he recommends a group run by his favorite professor— Van Helsing.  • it’s there, also, that she meets renfield. he knows what’s coming. doesn’t know how.

• one person with a sense of impending doom is a case. two is a coincidence. two, along with a steadily weakening friend of one and a shared belief between them, is enough to make van helsing suspicious. he interviews them both, then lucy, then seward and the rest. the dots are connected.

• the entire gang is assembled. van helsing and mina share what they know. seward doesn’t believe it, obviously. 

• not until they leave lucy out as live bait one night and wait, armed with crucifixes and garlic. they see jonathan come to her, put her into a gentle sleep, whisper to her that he always felt sorry for her and they wouldn’t get to her this time. he’d make sure of that. after all, his mina would need a friend.

• they leap out to drive him off. he flees. lucy is saved. now it’s known and believed by everyone. somehow, they’re part of a story that ended badly last time, and they have this one last chance to fix it.

• every time someone remembers something relevant to their pasts, they write it down. they compile diaries. just like last time. this time, no one is left out— not arthur, not quincey, not renfield, not lucy. mina compiles everything.

• the suitors hunt for jonathan’s boxes of earth. just like last time, they joke. beneath the joke, they’re unsettled. it’s reassuring to know that their friendship has stretched back a century. it’s less reassuring to know that they might not all make it out alive.

• this time, when renfield starts spending daytimes fending off episodes and not always succeeding, knowing that he’ll cave to an urge from outside himself, seward is one of the first to back him up when he asks to stay someplace away from the group. the two of them (safety in numbers) relocate, meeting up with the others in the daytime. last time it was his fault. this time, he changes his major. no use playing into a broken system twice.

• this does not mean that they are on good terms. both of them remember too much for that.

• on the last day of the box hunts, everyone goes. jonathan thinks he’d been clever to use carfax, to put the last of his earth boxes somewhere filled with bad memories for everyone, somewhere no one would want to go. in a way, he was clever, when he put different boxes in different rooms. the group splits up to search through the halls. mina and lucy find a few boxes in the crumbling old abbey.

• while lucy is busy taking care of them, mina sees a face in the shadows. she follows it.

• jonathan gets her alone. he tells her again how much he loves her, how they and all the rest can spend eternity together if she just agrees to be with him. and she remembers more of him, now. enough to know that the jonathan that she fell in love with was deathly afraid of losing her, would walk into hell for her, would lay down his life for her…but would not hurt her. not of his own volition. the jonathan she sees now is a sad echo of who he used to be, trapped as a creature that cannot help but lash out. perhaps looking into his eyes weakened her resolve, or perhaps she was too lost in the memories of who he used to be, but she kisses him out of pity.

• and his mouth is full of blood from his bitten tongue. 

• she realizes what has happened the second the coppery taste is on her tongue. in his desperation, not-jonathan sought to bind her to him. she screams out.

• the group comes to her aid, they drive not-jonathan away, but it’s too late. her mind and his are linked. he uses it to tell her that he loves her, over and over again. she cries.

• everyone is there for her. everyone. they’ve all lived this far, they’re not backing down now. whatever happens, they’re going to make sure that she— and what remains of jonathan— find closure.

• they chase not-jonathan back to the castle in transylvania. when they travel, the suitors fall asleep with their heads on each other’s shoulders. arthur squeezes lucy’s hand when he finds her looking out the window biting back tears. van helsing makes sure everyone’s resting and eating, passing out water and buying blankets and making coffee. the others sometimes find lucy and renfield and mina talking to each other in hushed tones about what it’s like, being tied to a creature like that. quincey can’t shake the feeling that it’s all going to go wrong again.

• they reach the castle before jonathan does. they used planes whenever they could, he took only trains. they lie in wait, all of them armed with knives and guns.

• quincey shoots out the tires of the hearse that comes up the castle drive. arthur and seward block the front of the car while renfield drags the driver out of his seat and lucy and mina throw open the back hatch. van helsing opens the coffin.

• he’s not there.

• of course there was a decoy. he saw what happened last time. this kept the crew busy until sundown. as night falls, mist forms into a familiar figure.

• he asks all of them. not just mina. he begs them to join him, asks them to stop fighting. can’t we all be happy together, for once? lucy won’t have to choose. those who died last time won’t ever have to be afraid of it again. van helsing, we can be the family you wanted. aren’t any of you lonely? mina, isn’t ours the holiest love? isn’t it?

• and mina goes to him.

• she kisses him and holds him tight, burying her face in his chest. crying.

• she apologizes.

• and while his eyes are closed, a smile finally on his face, she stabs him in the back. right into the heart.

• he doesn’t have the chance to cry out. he doesn’t even realize it happened. he dies still smiling, but the smile softens as it becomes that of the jonathan she knew, who never wanted to hurt her or trick her or drag her into a life that would only cause her pain.

• “maybe we’ll get our happy ending next time.”

[moonagedaydreamohyeah]

Hi!! Welcome back! I saw you'retaking prompts, so I hope it's okay for me to send a lil one 🥺 I have this idea where Bucky has nightmares constantly, and they get so bad he can't wake up. So after a couple of weeks, he's barely holding on, Steve tries something though. And now wherever he has a nightmare, he grabs his hand, to soothe him while telling him various memories of them, their wedding, their childhood. It works, Bucky calms down eventually and then wakes up. Telling Steve his dream shifted at a certain point and stopped being scary. I had this idea but I truly cannot write at all, if you choose to do it (it's totally fine if you don't though) I know you'll do a great job! Tysm

Hii Nonnie! Thank you soo so much for your prompt, I’m sorry it took so long! Here it is though, it turned out pretty long but I hope you like it!!🙏🌼💗

Trigger warnings for some angst and trauma related stuff and a close-to panic attack - I promise it gets fluffy before long☺️

_____________________________________________

The first thing Steve registered as he slowly became aware of his surroundings was the darkness of their room, suggesting that it was nowhere close to being morning yet.

He slowly blinked his eyes open and as he reached his hand out he came in contact with heated and sweat-clammy skin at the same time as he heard the tell-tale whimpering sounds from beside him, which instantly alerted to the cause of him having woken up in the first place.

As he sat up and turned the lamp at his bedside on, Steve looked at the distressed face of his boyfriend, at the way that his hands are opening and closing around the sheet in tight fists as if battling through a pain that was only a memory, but probably felt just as fresh and real as the approaching dawn.

Running a hand tiredly over his face, Steve suspected the bone deep exhaustion which is the product of almost two weeks of sleepless nights, for the fact that he didn’t realise what was happening the moment he stirred into wakefulness.

Steve took a deep breath in a lost effort to gather himself for what appeared to be another sleepless night with Bucky reliving the worst moments of his life while Steve sat helplessly beside him, unable to wake him up from the horror he was reliving and bring him back to reality.

When this specific brand of night terrors had first started, Steve had gone through any and all means that he and Bucky could come up with to wake him up, finding that not one of them was enough to tear Bucky from the deep sleep he was caught up in and the painful memories that came with it.

It wasn’t like nightmares were any kind of new experience for either of them, which of course couldn’t come as a surprise to anyone. They had both experienced stuff that would bring anyone nightmares, and Bucky’s mind especially only had to dig through what seemed like a bottomless pile of more than 70 years incomparable trauma and replay it, whenever it wanted to procure night terrors of the kind that would have most people opt for never sleeping again, if it meant they didn’t have to relive it - which is what Bucky would have preferred too, if it wasn’t for his therapist having put him on a strict sleeping schedule and medication to ensure that he would actually sleep within those set times, in a sympathetic voice ensuring him that the only road to recovery was through.

Usually the other would be there to wake up whomever of them were unlucky enough to run into a nightmare bad enough to wake the other up, and they would be able to hold each other until they could talk it out and eventually go back to sleep, until they were ready to go back to sleep.

They even had a ritual set up for the really bad ones. They would put on a pot of coffee and have a cup each, indulging in plenty of cream and sugar and drink them while watching an episode or two of Steven Universe on the TV.

As none of that was something they’d gotten to enjoy before waking up in the 21’st century, due to rationing and what not, that usually brought them had suffered right back to reality, reminding them that they had both escaped the pain of the past, and were now back together in the somewhat peaceful life they had managed to create for themselves in this new time and place.

But since these particular nightmares had started, none of that had been of use anymore. No matter what Steve tried, Bucky simply wouldn’t wake up and all Steve could do was sit helplessly by his side while the whimpers and cries for help rose in volume,

That didn’t stop Steve from trying though. Reaching out to try and shake Bucky out of it, Steve tried to keep the desperation out of his voice as he spoke.

“Bucky, baby, come on wake up. You’re dreaming sweetheart, you aren’t there anymore, you’re right here with me, all you gotta do is wake up.”

As he’d come to expect though, it was no use. If anything, the nightmare only seemed to be intensifying, if the full body shiver and increasingly loud whimpers of pain was anything to go by. Steve could feel his voice wavering as he shook him a little harder while he tried to speak over the devastating sounds coming from his love.

“Bucky, please. C’mon, baby, wake up. Sweetheart.”

It was when Bucky, still not showing any signs of waking up, let out a loud, high pitched cry of ‘please, no, no more, no more please, it hurts!’ that Steve suddenly couldn’t take it anymore. His breath hitched as the sob he’d been trying to hold back suddenly tore from his throat and without thinking, he was throwing the covers off and leaping out of their shared bed and into the living room where he braced himself on the back of the couch and took in gasping breaths as he tried to control the sobs that kept coming.

As his breathing only picked up the pace, Steve felt himself steer into what would no doubt become a full blown panic attack if he didn’t get a hold of himself. He slid down to sit the floor and placed his between his knees while back and forth to eight in his in a last ditch effort to slow his breathing; ‘breathe in for eight, and then out for eight’ he recited in his head.

Finally feeling his breathing start to even out, he remembered something that Mary-Ann, Bucky’s therapist, had stressed in one of their shared sessions;

‘You can’t cure another person’s pain or trauma, and the minute you catch yourself trying or beating yourself up over not being successful in doing so, you’re only making the situation worse by creating more pain for yourself along side with the pain your loved one is already in. Working through this stuff is only something you can do for yourself. The best you can do is be by their side to support them through it and try to diminish the strain of negative thoughts and other practical stuff that takes energy away from the effort that it takes to get better.’

Bucky and Steve both had trauma to work through, and figuring out to best help each other without putting too much strain on themselves and taking on the other’s struggles as well, had been a difficult balance to achieve when they had first been brought back to each other. But through therapy and conversations they had managed to get into a pretty good rhythm when it came to balancing their relationship and everyday life which all the baggage they each brought into it, by being there for each other in the best way possible.

That didn’t mean it wasn’t still hard sometimes, and these nightmares had taken a serious toll on both of them, so it wasn’t any wonder that Steve was at his limit. Had it only taken out on the nights, that would have been a different thing. But Bucky had been restless and tired in the day too, often staring off into the distance seemingly caught up in his own head. Steve, having been kept up by Bucky’s nightmares, had slowly felt the weight of Bucky’s struggles and the overall gloomy mood in their shared home, become to much to bear with his sparring energy resources.

Reminding himself once again of Mary-Ann’s words, Steve tried to shake off the feeling of inadequacy as he slowly got up from the floor. ‘The only way to get past this is through,’ he thought decisively, ‘and we will get through it.’

Even though Steve suddenly couldn’t bear to not be by Bucky’s side for one more moment, he opted to take a quick detour into the kitchen to get himself a glass of water, before he braces himself and returned to the bedroom.

By now whatever Bucky was reliving had sent him into a state of thrashing around on the sheets, throwing the covers halfway off to reveal his sweat soaked shirt, accompanied the sound of pleading, painful sounding whimpers that bordered on sobs.

Sitting himself back on the bed, Steve used one hand to grab a firm hold of Bucky’s that was now clutching the sheet hard enough that it was a wonder he hadn’t torn a hole in it yet, and started rubbing soothing circles over the back while he smoothed Bucky’s hair away from his sweaty face. Steve took a deep breath to collect himself before he started talking in a soothing voice.

“It’s okay, Buck, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere sweetheart” He didn’t know if he was still talking to Bucky or mostly trying to convince himself, when he continued, “I can’t take the pain away, but I can at least be here by your side through it, huh? Just like your Mary-Ann told us: that’s all I can do, and I’ll do it sweetheart, I’ll stay right here. I’m sorry I had to leave for a little while, but I promise I’m here now, okay? Just like you were always right there for me.”

Thinking back to the first of those awful winters when Steve had been so sick that not one doctor dared reassure his ma that he would be sure to pull through, Steve continued in that same, low voice, mostly just thinking out loud by now. He almost didn’t notice that Bucky’s whimpers had toned down a little bit and the thrashing was starting to calm down again into those god awful full body shivers.

“I guess I know how you felt now, going though those winters back then, huh? Oh god, how awful that must have been for you, baby, I get that now, don’t I? Sitting there, unable to do a damn thing but always reassuring me that I would get through even when everyone else doubted it. You always stayed, and I swear baby, that must’ve been what got me through at least the half of it.” Steve had to breath in deep again to keep the emotion out of his voice.

“Remember that first winter? We can’t have been that old, maybe nine or ten I think..” Steve mused, caught up in the memories. “Yeah, that must’ve been it. I remember ‘cause we had been playing all day out in the rain and we didn’t even notice how cold it was. Your ma gave us such an earful when we came home, soaked through and teeth chattering. I remember her going at us while we stood in the bathroom, naked as the day we were born and shivering, while she got the bath ready. She had that voice on, the one she used when we’d been exceptionally stupid”, Steve scoffed quietly. “‘You boys, I swear,’ she would always say, ‘it’s barely forty degrees outside and you run around in the rain like that; you’ll get sick, that’s for sure. You boys don’t think we have better things to spent all our hot water on?’ and I remember her voice soften when she told us, ‘you gotta take better care of yourselves, especially you Steve, with how skinny you are.’ I think she was probably more worried than mad though. God, I miss your ma sometimes. She was such a wonderful woman. Always had a thing or two to say about the shenanigans we got up to, but you could always tell she wasn’t really all that mad. She was right too, of course. I spent the entire winter in bed, doing my best to cough up half a lung while you sat by my side with that determined look on your face, like you were prepared to fight off death himself if he ever even thought of bothering to show up.”

By now Bucky was visibly calming down, the only signs of distress being the furrow of his brow and the occasional clenching and unclenching of the fist that Steve wasn’t holding onto, so Steve kept talking in the hope that that was what was finally doing the trick.

“And you never let me go out after that, without being practically bunched up in a hundred layers, even if it meant you had to freeze your balls off.” Steve chuckled to himself, suddenly recalling a very fond memory. “Oh, and then when it finally got hot outside again and we were out playing - we were with that girl, what was her name again..” Steve thought back, trying to remember. “- Laurel? Loraine? You know, the one with the pretty curls you were always pulling at when her family sat in front of us in church and no one was looking. Anyway, you found that penny on the ground and decided you were gonna buy us ice cream cones, but of course one penny turned out to only be enough for one. And I remember the look on her face when you said I should have it, god, she was so disappointed. But I had lost weight from being sick all winter and I was even skinnier than usual, and you were all like ‘look at him, he needs fattening up, it’s only fair, here you go Stevie, you have it’ and you wouldn’t hear any complaints about it.”

Steve was brought back from his reminiscing by Bucky rolling over onto his back and letting out a small sigh, any signs of the nightmare having disappeared from his features. Steve was flooded with relief as he smiled down at him and continued softly. “It was all there, right in front of my face, even back then, wasn’t it? I can’t believe I spent all those years being jealous of all the ladies who were always keen on dancing with you when we went out. You only ever had eyes for me, huh?”

Steve startled at the sound of Bucky’s sleep rough mumble. “‘Course, you punk”

Squeezing his hand, Steve checked to make sure he had heard right. “Bucky? Hey, you awake honey?”

Bucky squeezed back, letting out a grumbled “Mmh.. wha’s going on, why’re you up?” but he seemed to quickly rise from his sleepy state at Steve’s choked “oh thank god”

“Hey, Steve what’s wrong, huh? Look at me, what happened? You have a nightmare or somethin’”? Bucky asked, wiping away a single tear of pure relief that had apparently escaped and was trailing down Steve’s left cheek. His look of worry turned into one of realisation though, when it dawned on him. “Oh shit, it was me having a nightmare again huh? It happened again, didn’t it? Aww I’m sorry Stevie.”

“No no, please don’t apologise,” Steve hurried to reassure him. “It’s not your fault Buck. I’m just so relieved you’re back with me. It’s just hard, you know? Seeing you in that much pain and not being able to do a thing about it,” Steve sniffled.

“Yeah, I know Stevie, I know.” Bucky expression briefly shifted to one of confusion. “How’d you wake me up? I thought we’d practically tried everything by now.”

“I didn’t, at first,” Steve said, “I just starting talking to you and then when it seemed to calm you down a bit I kinda just kept going with like, talking about memories that came up, you know from back when we were kids.”

“Oh yeah.” Bucky furrowed his brows in thought. “I don’t really remember what the nightmare was about, only that it was awful and then the dream sort of.. shifted. Something about my ma giving us an earful and then something about ice cream cones and brown curls?” Bucky’s face shifted, as if he’d remembered something funny. “God, you remember that time I found that penny? And that girl, Loraine I think, she got so mad when I bought you ice cream instead of her,” Bucky chuckled.

“Yeah, that’s the story I was telling,” Steve smiled. “To be fair, that was kind of dick move, Barnes. Ain’t no way to treat a lady.”

“Hey! You were so skinny! You clearly needed it more than her!” Bucky defended himself. “And by the way, it wasn’t exactly her I was trying to impress.” Bucky said, waggling his eyebrows.

Steve snorted. “Yeah, alright, you’re a real charmer.”

“Don’t you know it,” Bucky said. Smiling more softly, he leaned in so his forehead was resting against Steve’s. “I’m really sorry for waking you up honey. It sucks that you have to be here through all that Stevie, I know it ain’t easy on you.”

“Nah,” Steve answered. “I’m right where I want to be. Till the end of the line and all that, remember? Not planning to go anywhere”

“Yeah,” Bucky sighed softly, and then in an almost whisper, sounding suddenly vulnerable, “I love you so much, Stevie.”

Sensing that Bucky was finally feeling some of the raw emotion that was left over from the nightmare he’d just endured, now that he knew that Steve was okay, Steve lifted up to plant a lingering kiss on his forehead. Rubbing a hand soothingly up and down Bucky’s back, he noted that his t-shirt was still soaked from sweat. “Me too, Buck. Me too. Hey, why don’t I go make a pot of coffee and turn the TV on and you come join me once you’ve cleaned up a little?”

“Yeah,” Bucky sighed, burying himself a bit closer into Steve’s embrace before pulling away and offering a grateful smile. “That sounds good.”

[hellothere-generalangsty]

What If...?

Okay but I still have this post in mind and I can't help but imagine like 3 scenarios which are: what if Keed died? What if Bones died? What if Gift died?

and honestly. It gets worse each time.

tags: @m-o-o-n-s-g-o-o-n-s @chaoticvampirejedi @emperor-palpaminty idk who else to tag for my oc stuff so here i am NOT sorry i lied

Keed would die on duty. He would die the heroic death, trying to save a brother, or to save his general again. It would be unfair, but it would be expected.

Gift would cry, but only in private. He would keep his head high in front of everyone, and would do everything to make sure Bones doesn't feel lonely and doesn't just chew on his own emotions.

Bones would feel numb at first, because he just lost his younger brother. They both did. Everyone was so used to Keed acting like the "grown-up", being an ARC and all serious and wise all the time... And his death would just brutally remind them that he was - had always been - their little brother. And none of them could protect him.

It would definitely create tensions, but because they both feel responsible and both think they could - should - have done more. IT leads to a sort of weird argument where Gift tries to talk but can't, and Bones on the contrary starts blurting out everything he ever thought about Keed and their relation and the Jedis and their role in that war and and and...

And it goes on and on until he runs out of breath, out of words, out of rage. And Gift remains silent, but he gives him a little smile, and it's terribly sad. Gift's sadness is genuine and Bones can see it. It breaks them. But they hold on.

Keed still live through them, through their values, and they want to honour their little brother the best they can. SO they promise to keep an eye on each other, to always be there, ready to protect, ready to defend.

They still have each other.

Bones would die during a rescue mission. He had a bad feeling about this one, he told Keed, and it's the last thing he says before he dies. Keed has to break the news to Gift and it's.

No one ever saw Gift crying. No one ever heard Gift screaming. But that day, everyone around froze as Gift cried for his fallen brother.

The next day, Gift seems "normal". He talks - though his voice is softer - he checks on everyone; he even tries to crack a few jokes. But his eyes are empty, his words devoid of any emotion. He feels nothing. It is as if the life has been sucked out of him, and all that is left is a vessel, a pale copy of who he used to be.

He cries every night, and Keed cries with him, because he doesn't know how to comfort him. They try to talk but every time it ends up with them crying until Gift falls asleep.

Gift has nightmares. He never did before, that was "Bones' thing". But ever since he died, he sleeps terribly and keeps on waking up to there horrific images of his dead brother. He's haunted by all the thoughts, all the possibilities, he cannot sleep because of that.

Keed feels his brother slipping away, waking up a bit more shallow everyday, a bit less...alive. He's still here, but that spark that something that made Gift Gift...

It died with Bones.

And now it's gone. And Gift knows it, and he wants to hate himself for it, but he can't help but think that Bones took a part of his soul with him, so no matter what they would always be together. They would always have that balance, until they meet again.

Keed realises that he lost his two brothers that day, and it's killing him from the inside. That's the most powerless he has ever felt.

Gift would die in the middle of a joke, caught in an embush. His death is almost instantaneous. Clean shot, no time to breath out, no time for a punchline.

No time for goodbyes and tears, either.

Bones stares as Gift's body collapses on the ground, and a minute later everything is chaos and dust, soldiers scream all around, calling for backups, warning about the shots, ordering everyone to hide and stay low.

Bones has to watch his brother's body from afar, unable to even hold him, to bring him back. They evacuate the zone and he can't even bring his brother back with him. He doesn't remember a lot when he wakes up in the medbay, but Keed tells him he had to be stunned because he almost broke another clone's arm trying to get back to Gift's body.

Bones doesn't talk for two weeks. Not even to Keed. He's kept in the medbay for a week, then in custory for another week. Keed negociates his release with the jedis, and offers to keep an eye on him until things get better.

When Bones learns about this,he fights with Keed. He is devastated and bottles up so much, and he doesn't understand how Keed can act - and be - so detached from what happened to Gift. Keed tells him that he feels sad too, but that they are, sadly, replaceable. Keed doesn't say it as in "it doesn't matter", he says it as in "i knew it could happen. To him, to you, to me. To any of us. Because to them, we're nothing more." Keed is... resigned. He saw so many brothers fall, so many bodies left behind...he honestly feels disconnected, he can't quite process the whole thing. It feels like a fever dream.

But Bones feels so angry, tensions keep growing between them until another huge argument here Bones cut ties with Keed and decides to desert.

They don't speak to each other for years. Until Order 66 happens. Bones hears about it and decides to try and find Keed to save him, but it's too late. He's caught in an ambush, and the last thing he sees is Keed's helmet dropping on the floor.

Keed knows it's Bones, he could never forget. No matter how hard the chip works, Keed could never forget. He lost Gift, and a few weeks later he lost Bones. And ever since, he has never felt so lonely. So powerless.

[imonthinice]

The Criminal Psychology Majors, Jason Todd x Fem!Reader Part 8/?

Word Count: 1.6k

Author’s Note: Y/N - Your Name, A/N - Any Name (Your Best Friend’s Name)

This one is shorter because of the last one’s length.

Hi everyone! By the time you see this, I will probably be out and therefore cannot update the other parts with this one’s link, so don’t worry about that if you notice it.

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Jason’s Trauma and his Death, Lightning, no beta bitch we die like Jason Todd

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9)  (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15) (Part 16) (Part 17) (Part 18) (Part 19) (Part 20)

Going on day 5 of knowing each other, Jason and Y/N would spend the day apart. Why? Because they gave each other the chance to have family time, Jason got it by playing around with his baby siblings, playing Assassin.

Fluff Head canon came from frownyalfred on Tumblr, who wrote about Jason playing Assassin with his brothers 

He would go running through the halls playing the game that he and Dick knew all too well, it had been the only ‘no contact’ game they were allowed to play at a summer camp Bruce had sent them to all those years ago when they weren’t adults with a bunch of other siblings, and girlfriends. But here they were, explaining the game to their younger siblings while Alfred and Bruce hung out with Barbara, who wished she could play, but was paralyzed.

Everyone missed playing games with her like they used to, but with the video game consoles in the house they did transfer a lot of their gaming to online so they could relive memories with Barbs. It was bittersweet, and everyone remembered when she became paralyzed like it was yesterday, but she always wanted them to play games like they used to, with or without her. 

Jason admired his, hopefully, one day older sister for how she treated her disability, like it was a gift, not something that impacted her everyday life and made her have to hang up the cloak of Batgirl.

But running around chasing after Dick, because of course, he got Dick, the universe wanted them to play again, was something he missed so much. They hadn’t had so much of this time, family time, ever since they all became vigilantes, and they never realized how much they missed the thrill of running around with each other.

Jason ended up getting Dick and throwing him out of the game, calling it a ‘selfless act of brotherhood so you can hang out with your girl’ and they both laughed at it. Titus, Damien’s dog, ended up barking up a storm at Jason when he killed Dick, like the big dog was rooting for Dick to win the tournament.

“Down boy! It’s a game!” Jason would whisper-yell at his dog.

“Yeah! Good boy, Titus! Get him!”

“No!” Jason would yell while running throughout the house, Titus on his heels. Passing by Alfred, Bruce and Barbara, where Titus would stop and go lay at Bruce’s feet, but Jason didn’t know that.

Jason would end up coming in just 10 minutes later, with a green slash on his neck. Tim, who had pulled Cass but killed her, Cass, who had pulled Jason. Tim now had two kills in the game and both were to people who could have easily overpowered him. 

“Jase! Welcome to the land of the dead,” Dick greeted him.

“God dammnit I’ve already been here,” Jason whined in a joke.

“You and your ‘I died pity me’  jokes,” Barbara said.

“It’s called a coping mechanism, Barbs. And hi dad, Alfred,” Jason said as he waved slightly at both of them, Alfred waved back and Bruce nodded at him.

“You could just to go therapy, Jase,” Barbara said, seeming concerned for someone who she considered her baby brother. She remember when he came into the Manor, she was older than him, sure . But he had nightmares and she and Dick would switch between who would sleep at his door at night, they both had terrible backs until the nightmares calmed down. Jason never knew they did this.

It also happened when he was resurrected, but the nightmares were worse and he’d wake all sweaty and upset. There were too many nights where batkids would be in Jason’s bed with him from 12am to when Alfred would greet them in the morning. The nightmares had slowed down a lot in the past few years with the introduction of his Goddaughter into his life, but they still came by to remind him of what happened.

He didn’t talk about it much. They would always try to edge him on about about really happened, but he was stubborn. It made sense, sure, trauma is trauma. But they all wanted to help him get better. It hurt them all that he was hurting and they didn’t know how to help him get through it.

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

Y/N would sit on her bed that morning and finally finished organizing her criminal psychology and regular psychology notes when she came across her printed copy of Dr. Barry Allen’s dissertation she had studied so hard. She found it so weird that she was so close to someone who she looked up to in the field while also being so far in the same breath.

She didn't dote on it for long, she stocked it away with her forensics notes in their place. This, the relationship she had with Jason that intertwined her with so many people, was something she was getting used to by the minute, but it was never something she’d get fully used to as time goes on.

She would put on a JCS - Criminal Psychology video in the background as she worked and tried to make her journal look nicer when Jason texted her,

Good morning. He said.

Good morning :)  She said back.

I just lost a game against a 16 year old.

Huh?

My brothers and 2 of my sisters were playing Assassins with me right? Well my 16 year old brother, Tim, he ended up getting the better of me and beat me. 

Oh! So you suck!

What!? No, I’m literally so cool what do you mean? He said, it clearly had sarcasm undertones to it, so Y/N wasn’t worried if she offended him with saying he sucked.

Oh yeah? Then why’d you lose?

Well, I killed Dick.

Okay so you didn’t lose, Dick lost.

It started raining a little bit, the sounds of it hitting lightly against her window, and she felt at peace. It was never hard for her to feel peace when she was by herself. She only had one roommate because she liked the silence, to be alone to collect her own thoughts in her head.

Her parents said it was because she probably had underlying mental illness that they never had the money to diagnose. She agreed. But she still didn’t have the chance to do it.

Jason and her deserved so much more than what the world have given them up to this point, so when they found each other it was, in a way, the universe saying ‘I’m sorry, you deserve this’ and with each passing day it made the pain they had both felt in their lives just a little bit more tolerable.

No, I guess Dick sucks at the game more than me.

Where’d you even get the concept for that game?

Dick and I used to play it at a Summer Camp before we got kicked out.

For playing the game?

No, for being unruly children.

You seem like you were a handful back in the day.

I was, I was the worst kid to raise, my dad has a shirt that says ‘Proud parent of a kid who is sometimes an asshole but that’s OK’ and he wears it all the time.

What a dad moment. Don’t tell my father that shirt exists, he’ll get one for my mum and himself to represent my sister and I.

Were you an unruly child as well?

I was a troublemaker. Getting into arguments with my authoritative figures about dress codes, rules, why girls couldn’t carry chairs, literally anything that was unequal, I was at their throats about it.

I mean, as you should. My older sister, Barbara, and my younger sisters, Stephanie and Cassie, they would like that about you.

I feel like in someway I’ve won over every part of your family.

The rain would get more violent as time went on. Strikes and hits of lightning would strike all around the city, hitting those gargoyles on every building, she always figured they were decorative, but A/N explained that their horns were made out of copper so people wouldn’t get struck by lightning. Bruce Wayne actually made that a thing, A/N said.

Y/N got a message from the dance competition that she signed up to, turns out, California was hit with a hurricane and most people evacuated. No one was allowed in or out. She guessed weather was being funky everywhere. It sucked, but she already was wishing she could spend time at home instead of out in the world.

A feeling she hated.

She would spend the rest of the day on and off the phone with Jason while it stormed. She would go to bed early that night.

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

Jason slipped on his vigilante uniform, the Red Hood was going to be on patrol over this night, stormy or not, it was his duty and he knew that. Did he want to go? Yes. He was killing for some action and he was going with Dick. They would probably have some ‘Bro Time’ which Jason wanted. 

Even if it was silence, having Dick nearby him meant enough and gave him peace of mind.

He grabbed his guns and loaded them while packing a few extra magazines in his belt, when Dick placed a hand on his shoulder, “You have to be careful tonight, Jase,” Dick said as he gulped down tears, “Just come back to me alive if you break off from me, okay?”

“Alive but bruised,” Jason joked.

“I’m serious. I can’t lose you again and tonight is going to be massively dangerous.”

“You won’t.”

[pineconesarecrunchy]

Tea

Edelgard x F!Byleth

Note: This is post timeskip so minor spoilers for that

(This is part of a series! Previous work)

...

"Morning!"

"..."

"Miss Byleth?"

You suddenly jolt and lift you head up from where it was resting on the desk in front of you. Knocking over the nearest stack of papers while arising.

"Ack!" You mumble and scurry to pick up the papers.

"Sorry for startling you." you look up to meet Hubert's face. Edelgard's right hand man. He bends down to collect the papers with you. After gathering all you combine the piles you have collected and rest them on your desk.

"Busy are you?" He asks, leaning against your desk.

"Yes, as we all are."

"Hm. Indeed." Pause. The air with Hubert feels like the exact opposite. Edelgard's aura feels warm and comforting. Hubert feels like he's always cold and distant. You wonder how the two are able to bond so well. "I want to discuss something about Lady Edelgard."

"What about her?"

"I have noticed you wandering into her room like a lost lamb in the woods going home on a dark night. All alone, scurrying." You raise your eyebrows. "You cannot dispute me when I have actually seen you."

"Okay." More silence. The tension is so thick it would need to be cut with a butchers knife. What does he want from you? Is he trying to be protective of Edelgard? Will he forbid you from seeing her...impossible. He cannot do that! These thoughts of Hubert stepping between you and Edelgard makes your head swirl and stomach feel uneasy. You have to change the topic of conversation before—

"Have you been getting sleep lately, Miss Byleth?"

"I have been trying to, but as you can see with this upcoming battle, I have a lot of stuff to prepare for."

"I see..."

“I am running errands for the mercenaries while discussing with the kitchen and tenders at the greenhouse how much food we should set aside to ration for the upcoming battle. With the merchants changing as often as they do, it’s hard to bargain without checking to see what the kitchen crew needs to make meals and what foods we can grow in the greenhouse instead of buying. I am all over the place, calculating, spending, bargaining, and … just a lot to do Hubert. But, that is my job!”

“Alright…”

"How have you been, Hubert?" You could care less about his response.

"Why have you stopped wandering to her room?" Now he has piqued your interest.

"Excuse me, Hubert?"

"...Edelgard. Why have you stopped visiting her at night?"

" Hubert I am sorry, but topic of this conversation does not concern you—"

"What do you do—"

"This is extremely out of line and unprofessional! The only things you should ask me that concern Edelgard and I should be of business matters. Not personal." You pick up the few papers off of your desk that need to be worked on and believe working in your room would be your best bet rather this office. As you head for the door you can feel Hubert's eyes burning on your back.

As you set the stack on the desk of your room you cannot help but think of that exchange. What does Hubert want from you? Why did he feel the need to ask such questions? You feel a headache incoming and rest your head against your desk. Wonder why the past few days have been increasing the amount of headaches you get and with such intensity.

You glance out the window and see the sun setting. How long have you been resting as a response to your headache? You lick your parched lips, a nice warm cup of tea would be good right now. You cannot help begin to start wondering where Edelgard may be and if she would enjoy a cup as well. You get up and change to more comfortable outing clothes and ask around if anyone has seen her. The guards, passing merchants; mercenaries. The more people you ask, the less people seem to be roaming around every time you inquire. Why has not speaking with Edelgard make you feel this way?

It has only been a few days, but it feels like part of you is missing. You wake up without her next to you and the day already feels awful. Seeing a glimpse of her through the windows discussing with allies does not do it for you. You want to be with Edelgard and feel her by your side. The warmth of her arm around you, hand holding hand with fingers interlacing. To be so close to her, every inhale you can smell her flowery scent. You miss it so much. You miss Edelgard. Everyday without her feels painful...

Are you falling for the Emperor?

You quickly erase that question out of your mind. There is no way you possibly can… You should not even be thinking thoughts like that.

The moon is out now; maybe you should catch up on the work that you missed due to your headache. You head to your office finding it hard to believe that in your evening search, no one knew of her whereabouts. That is truly unbelievable—

"I heard you were looking for me." says a familiar voice. You look around the room of the office to see a fig ure perched upon your desk legs crossed. Silvery white hair illuminated by the stained glass windows in the office.

"E-Edelgard!"

"'E-Edelgard!'" she mocks you and laughs. She is not wearing her nightgown like last time, she's still in her emperor clothes. Beautifully crimson red. Maybe she had a meeting with allies... "Come on, By. El is perfectly fine. What did you want to discuss? You could have stopped by my office anytime." Of course! She would have been in her office, the one place you would think to check first...

"I had nothing to discuss."

"Really?"

"Honest."

"So will you tell me why you were looking for me?" You nod.

"I was going to ask you if you would like to join me for evening tea, but it is," you walk over to the window and look at the moon, "a bit late for that now." You can feel Edelgard get off the desk behind you and join your side looking out the stained glass window.

"So you wanted to see me?" She purrs.

"I..."

"You were the one who had wanted to stop accompanying me."

"Because I felt like your nightmares were easing."

"But, you never asked for my opinion."

"No, I did not..." you say wryly. "...But, were they easing by me accompanying you?"

"It was, but I've been working so much lately that as soon as I lay down to sleep I fall asleep instantly and I wake up recalling none of my nightmares nor dreams."

"That's great!"

"I would disagree." You raise your eyebrows. Does Edelgard wish she still had nightmares? You recall the times where in her sleep she would begin to shake and mumble. Sometimes she even cried in her sleep until you lulled her telling her everything's alright. Why would she wish to continue being the victim of that suffering?

"Why would wish to have nightmares?"

"So I could have an excuse to sleep with you." You look down at her while her eyes are fixed looking out the window. "You miss sleeping with me, don't you, By?" Dammit.

"..."

"You look like a wreck."

"..."

"You look worse than I do after a long night run.” She laughs at this, but you don't. It's like Edelgard can see through your front. Without her you do feel like a wreck. Maybe both of you benefitted from sleeping with each other.

"..."

"Byleth, will you say anything?"

"Anything."

"Haha!" She playfully slaps your arm. "Most times you're so stoic, but I knew you had some sense of humor within you!"

"You think I am stoic—"

"I will take up your offer on tea."

“But, it’s almost midnight.”

“Tea’s suppose energizing effects have no affect on me.” She says shrugging. “You?”

“One cup makes me sleepy.” You lie. Tea makes you restless, but you’re so desperate to not work right now. Accompanying Edelgard is a valid excuse to get out of your work.

“We can sleep together afterwards then.” She suggests.

“I have work to be done—“

“Work work work. You have to take a break sometime, By! Come on, for me.” Her eyes gleam with a beg that you have never seen from her before. You give in and nod. To this, she smiles greatly, taking your hand in hers and dragging you to the dinning hall’s kitchen.

The kitchen is empty, you expect there to be cleaners at this hour, but no one is there. She walks over to a tall cupboard and opens it. The shelves are lined with various tea serving equipment and tea assortments. From an array of colored porcelain cups to teas from foreign lands, the shelves are well equipped. Edelgard seems to have her eye on one of the teas on the higher shelf. She stretches to get it, on her tippy toes. Seeing her wobble trying to get it for you seems a bit…funny. It’s out of place to see the leader of the Empire struggling to reach for the box of Bergamot tea due to how vertically challenged she is. You stand behind her and grab the tea from the shelf, not realizing how close you are to her. She hits her behind into your pelvis trying to turn around, her face flushed, eyes averted from yours.

“Thank you.” She says quickly, taking the tea out of your hand. “I shall get some hot water. I have a serving tray in my room and some spare tea cups.”

She squeezes out from between you and the cupboard.

“Should I meet you in your room?” You ask.

“No, you may stay.” So you do.

When you return to Edelgard’s room, she mentions you can sit where you’d like so you choose to sit on her dressing table’s stool. She rests the filled teapot and Bergamot on top of her wooden drawer set and squats down to reach into the lowest drawer. Pulling out a serving tray along with two porcelain tea cups, she rises closing the drawer with the tip of her boot. She them places the items next to the teapot. Once everything is out of her hands, she immediately tosses her jacket onto the ground and kicks off her boots.

“Could you help me out of this please? I’m so tired and would like to put on something more comfortable before tea.” She asks her back towards you. “I had to wear this crimson dress while discussing business matters earlier. Hubert insisted because of ‘business formalities’ bleh. He usually helps me in and out of it, but he’s been… acting a bit strange lately.” You bring yourself to stand up and go over to Edelgard. She glances over her shoulder and takes your hands into hers. She guides your hand to the nape of her neck where the first button is. You undo it, hands barely keeping steady.

The rest is continued here

(on Archive of our own because it's rated mature)!

...

I hope you liked this fic!! I love writing Edelgard with a bit of sass and Byleth just taking it in lol. It's a lot of fun!

[hollanderfangirl]

Let me go |Harry Holland|

Pairing: Harry Holland x Therapist! Reader

A/N: so I'm not a therapist and I've never been to therapy, well if you don't consider the sessions with my psychology teacher. All of what I've written comes from what I've learnt in psychology class, reading books and listening to other people's experiences.

Warnings: talk about death, panic attack and it's just really sad

Word count: 3.3k, this is my longest fic yet :)

(Sorry for the shitty moodboard I just had to post this fic or I would have lost my mind)

Harry Holland walked through the halls of the clinic, not really sure why he was here. Well he knew why he had come to see a therapist but he wondered how he put himself in this situation. He had been locking himself inside a glass cave built out of hopelessness for months, his friends and family were greatly concerned about him but he refused to take any help. He had always been stubborn, he never asked for anybody's help. He hated the look of pity on people's faces. He hated people showing him sympathy. He was more than this. He didn't need anybody. He can pull himself together, he just needed time.

But it wasn't helping. Burying your feelings in has never helped anybody. Putting on a smile everyday in front of people and crying himself to sleep, Harry found it more and more difficult. His mum had sensed it and told him to go and see a doctor. He had resisted it at first. 

"Please do it for me, Harry. I cannot see you like this, at least for my satisfaction," Nikki had said. "Just go for a trial session and if you like it then you can continue," but of course he wasn't going to continue. 

Now as he stood in front of the receptionist, he was reconsidering his decision. 

"Yes, do you have an appointment, sir?" 

"Huh?" he seemed lost. "Yeah..yeah" 

"Just wait here, I'll inform Dr Y/l/n" 

"Your know what, cancel the appointment. I- I don't need help" 

"Oh but this is just a trial, Mr Holland" 

"Yeah but I don't-" the receptionist was already at the door, muttering something to the woman inside. 

You step outside to see a curly headed man, he looked pleasant but his eyes looked sad. Those were the eyes of a person who had seen immense grief, someone who had been miserable for a long long time. 

"I'm sorry but I don't need therapy… I didn't realise this before, I -I shouldn't have come here" 

"Oh Mr Holland, this is just a trial right? Let's just have some coffee. This isn't therapy yet" you smile at him. 

"No I really-" 

"Okay then, give me half an hour. If you still feel the same way, then you can leave. Half an hour is all I want from you, Mr Holland" 

"Alright" 

You lead him into your chamber, closing the door behind you. He sits down on a couch across from you, your desk separating you both. The first step of therapy- resistance. People always resist therapy at first, they feel like they don't need the help or maybe seeking help makes them weak. They don't feel like opening up to a complete stranger. How can they? How can they open up their most vulnerable state to a person who they barely know? But slowly and steadily, a rapport is made. A therapist has to be very careful and empathetic. They have to be trusting. Someone who people can turn to. Someone who they can relate to. Someone who understands them. Someone who would just listen. 

"So, your mother sent you here. Right, Mr Holland?" 

"Just- just call me Harry" 

"Okay then Harry, tell me" 

"What do you want me to tell you?" 

"Everything. Start from the beginning" 

"Well I- do you… do you really think I would-" he hesitates. "Who do you think you are? Why do you think I should pay you to listen to my goddamn life story here?" 

"You're not here to tell me your life story," you say politely. "I'm here to help you and I can do that only if you would let me" 

"Well guess what? You cannot help me, I knew I was wasting my time," he gets up and starts to walk away. 

"I asked for half an hour of your time, Harry" 

"Well I don't fucking care" 

"Harry, please listen to me. All I ask is half an hour" 

Little did he know, this half an hour was going to change his life. 

Something about your tone made him stay. He sat back down on the couch, turning away from you. 

"Okay, so if you're not going to talk, I will," you sigh. "So, you have suffered a great loss, someone you loved dearly?" 

"Yes," he still didn't look you in the eye. 

"Who was it?" 

"My…my friend. Girlfriend" 

"And when did this happen?" 

"A year ago" 

"How have you been holding up?" 

He thought of giving another vague answer. How the fuck do you think I'm holding up? I'm fucking dying every single day. 

"Uh- it's been a little better, I guess. It's not as bad as it used to be" 

"Well that's a start. And do you still think about her?" 

Every goddamn minute, lady. What do you want from me? "Yeah sometimes" 

"And how have you been sleeping?" 

I can't sleep. I haven't slept properly for months. If I sleep I see her coming back to me. "Alright I guess" 

This wasn't going anywhere. You thought of recommending him another doctor but something about him charmed you. He was a man who should have been living a great life but his grief was tearing him apart. You had to help him. You felt a strong connection to him, you felt determined. No, I have to help him. I just have to.

"Harry, do you feel like you're responsible for your girlfriend's death?" it was a straightforward question, you had been trying to get something out of him but he wasn't ready to. 

He looked at you dead in the eye, yet could not get any words out. You could sense the anger building up inside him but it wasn't projected at you, he was angry with himself. 

"I….. " he took a few deep breaths, clenching his hands into fists. "Yes" 

"Why is that so?" 

"Fucking hell! Are you for real? She died, okay? And I wasn't there… I wasn't there.. " he was tearing up. "I should have been the one to die! Not her! Not anybody! Everyone just leaves me in the end!" he was full on shouting, letting out everything he had been holding inside himself for a whole year. He had tears in his eyes.

You handed him a box of tissues and he was gasping for breath. When he had calmed down, you both sat in silence for a few minutes. 

"You know, Harry, my friend died the day we had a fight. She was my best friend. I knew her ever since we were three. It was a silly argument. We should not have fought about it. But we did and I told her I wished she would just go away… and then she did" it was painful for you to remember this, but time does heal everything. 

"I'm sorry," his voice was low. "And I'm sorry for all those things I said" 

"No it's alright, that's what you're here for. And besides, it's nothing compared to your loss, Harry" 

"No. It- it's not a competition. Suffering is not a competition. It must've been really hard for you, Dr y/l/n," this was the first time he had addressed you. 

"Call me y/n," you smile at him. "And yeah that's very true. We often blame ourselves, you know, it's very common. We cannot be angry at them so we get angry with ourselves. Even though we know deep in our hearts that there was nothing we could have done" 

There was a long silence. 

"She went out for a drive, that bastard drunk driver," he spoke up. "And I was just resting. She asked me so many times to join her but I wanted to sleep" 

You nod at him and he continued. "That's…the reason I'm not able to sleep. Every night I close my eyes, I think I'll wake up to that phone call" 

"Well yes I don't blame you, our brains sometimes don't process things that come as a shock. And then it just keeps on haunting us forever. Do you believe in life after death, Harry?" 

"Well I don't know what to believe" 

"Have you- felt her? After she was gone?" 

"You'll think I'm crazy" 

"I'm a therapist, it'll take you much more than that to convince me you're crazy" 

"I sometimes talk to her. Like what would she think about this particular situation. Or just that I miss her so much. I don't get any responses but I just try to think like her?" 

"Yeah, that's quite normal actually. People think they need to 'get over' someone's death. But that's not true. You can never really get over something like death" 

"And what does getting over even mean? Like you just forget them? Moving on with your life just means that you think they were never a part of it" 

"Well you're both right and wrong. Yes we must remember our loved ones who are not with us anymore but at the same time, we have to let them go" 

"How? It's too painful" 

"I know. But do you believe in the concept of souls, Harry?" 

"Yeah I mean," he shrugs. 

"The soul is considered to be immortal. And groups of souls tend to travel together. Even if you don't know it, some way, somehow, they're always with us" 

He says nothing but his eyes looked softer now. 

"And just think about it, think of her seeing you like this. Do you think she could have handled you being so miserable?" 

"She would have been heartbroken" 

"Exactly. So do it for her, for yourself. For both of you to feel peace again" 

"Yeah" 

You look at your watch. Half an hour was up. 

"So, Harry. Your half an hour is up. Is there anything else?" 

"Yes, um we can talk about it in our next session?" 

You smile at him. "Of course" 

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

After that one half an hour session, Harry was a changed man. He was still mourning, he was still miserable but he had hope. For the first time in a long time, he thought he could actually go on with his life, he could finally feel peace.

The week went by smoothly. Harry tried to make himself busy, by surrounding himself with people and always working. He was still getting nightmares but he was determined to sleep. He was sleeping light, afraid of what deep sleep might show him.

Meanwhile your life was exactly the same, you went on with your day treating people, talking, helping them. You loved your job, you loved the sense of satisfaction you got after patients they told you they were finally better. Every person was a challenge, and you knew there was a gem hidden inside every one of them. All of them had immense potential but life hadn't been kind to them. You felt disturbed and it broke your heart to see people hurting. And you would do anything to make it better for them. To help them.

You couldn’t keep Harry out of your mind. You were thinking about him all day long, awaiting your next session with him. What if he cancels? What can I do if he does? Why am I thinking about him? He had this air around him, a magnetic pull, which was pulling your closer and closer towards him. And why is he so damn attractive? No I should not think about him that way. It was the first and foremost rule of your profession. Never get emotionally attached with your clients. It was a professional relationship and must remain that way.

When he came into your office the following week, you could sense the change in him. You felt proud that a single session made such a difference. There was no arrogance in him, he didn’t seem angry anymore. He was calm and better.

“So, Harry. How was your week?”

“It was good, I’ve been shooting my new short film and it’s coming out to be okay so far”

“Alright and how have you been sleeping?”

“Not that good to be honest. I still get dreams, uh bad dreams”

“What do you see in these dreams?”

“I see the accident scene….again and again, it’s the same dream. Sometimes I see her, she talks to me and all that”

“Hmm and have you talked to your family? Your friends?”

“Yeah I talked to my mum…and my brother”

“What did they say?”

“They said they are here for me and will always love me”

“Yes and I don’t doubt that, Harry. You have a lot of people in your life who love and support you. Embrace that”

The session went by smoothly, he opened up to you about his life, everything about the girl he loved so much. About his family, his career. You found yourself staring at him, taking glances at his hands which he constantly moved while he talked. You noticed he was shaking his leg the whole time. Stop staring, y/n.

Wow she’s so beautiful. And thoughtful. And funny and understanding. What am I doing? She’s my therapist….but…why couldn’t I have met her before? Why didn’t I meet her when I was normal? Would things have been different? But then again, I would have never met her if I was normal.

Things seemed to get better, as the weeks progressed, Harry was becoming more and more like his old self again. But there was a feeling of regret, he thought this was wrong as if he were forgetting her. But you were there to guide him, to tell him that this is what life is. It never stops. No matter what happens, you will heal. Someday, sometime. And each day we progress towards it.

And then it happened. The call came at 1 am in the morning. You were sleeping and you were tired, you had been working all day and just needed some rest. You wouldn't have picked the call up but something told you it was important. That you should pick it up.

“Hello?” you yawn.

You just hear muffled breathing for a few seconds.

“Hello? Who is it?”

“It…it’s me…Harry”

“Harry, what’s wrong?” you thought what could have happened at this time of the night.

“I just- can you-” he sounded like he was choking.

“Harry what’s wrong, you’re scaring me”

“I… can’t… breathe,” you hear him sobbing. ”I had… that… dream, I feel like I’m…going to…die”

“Harry, listen to me. You will be okay. Yeah? Just take deep breaths and sit tight. I’m coming to you”

You search through his file to look for his address. When you find it, you rush through the front door and drive to his house. You were on the phone with him the whole drive.

“Just keep breathing, Harry. Deep breaths, okay?”

To your surprise, the front door was unlocked. It looked like he had gone out into the street in the middle of the night. You search through rooms to find him, and you see him curled into a ball at the corner of a king size bed. You touch his shoulder and he flinches.

“Hey, hey it’s just me. It’s alright”

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know who else to call,” he was crying, with the tears streaming down his cheeks, his eyes looked small and they looked red from the lack of sleep and of tears.

“It’s alright, Harry. Just come here, it’ll be alright,” you pull him towards yourself him and he buries his face into your chest and you held him, stroking his hair and telling him it will be alright.

“That’s it. Let it out, Harry. It’s okay to cry”

You both stayed like that for another 15 minutes. He couldn’t stop crying and you knew he needed that. He had been holding everything in for so long and it just came out like an explosion tonight. You wiped his tears and made him meditate for a few minutes.

He fell asleep and you stayed up all night, looking at him. He looked so innocent while he slept, and cute too, you thought hiding a blush, even though nobody was there to look at you.

That night, Harry finally felt at peace. He was finally able to sleep. He had no nightmares, just a peaceful dream. He saw his girlfriend, running away from him in a white dress with her hair flowing in the wind.

Please don’t leave me, darling. I love you.

I know you do Harry, but you must let me go. I will always be with you. I will always love you. It is time you start caring about yourself, you must let me go. It is time.

No! don’t leave me!

And he woke up. Something about this dream told him that she was right. It was time. He was finally ready to let her go. For both of their sakes.

He went down to find you sleeping on the couch. He was hesitant at his thoughts but deep down he knew he was falling for you. Am I just using her to cope with my loss? Or do I really love her?

You opened your eyes, looking at Harry sitting on the ground, pushing a strand of hair away from your face.

“Good morning, how did you sleep?”

“Better. Really really better. I- I don’t know how to thank you, y/n and I’m so sorry”

“Hey it’s alright, and I’m glad I could help,” you smile. “I should go now, I have to get to work”

“Let me make breakfast and let me drive you to your house”

“Oh no it’s okay I can-”

“I owe this much to you, y/n. Let me”

“Okay”

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

It wasn’t until another week when Harry had his next session. You had been thinking about him all the time, you were confused, it wasn’t supposed to go this way. But he….who am I kidding I’m in love with him.

When he walked through the door on a Thursday morning next week, he looked healthy and happier than ever. You felt a sense of happiness yourself, therapy is always beneficial to both the patient and the therapist. Every person is a deep universe, their thoughts, experiences, pain, joy, everything. Empathising with clients is a great learning experience, it becomes a part your personality. It becomes a part of you.

“Hey y/n”

“Hi Harry”

“So my week as been as it’s always and I’ve been feeling a lot better ever since that day…and that dream” he had told you about the dream he had the night you watched him sleep. He seemed to completely change after that, he let go of the intense emotions he had been carrying around.

“That’s very good and you’ve made a lot of progress since our first meeting”

“Yeah…I have”

The session went on as usual, he talked about everything that happened, he started fighting with his brothers again, which he hadn’t done in a long time and even though they were pissed off at him, they were happy to have him back.

“Um Harry,” you say at the end of the session. “I think-” you try to choose your words correctly. “I think it’s about time you start seeing another therapist, yeah?”

You see his face drop. “wh-why? I’m doing so much better, is..is it because of that night? I’m so sorry y/n”

“No it’s not that. You and I both know what’s happening between us, it’s wrong for a therapist to get emotionally attached with her patient. I’m sorry, Harry”

“So you’re saying that you’re becoming emotionally attached with me?”

“I..I’m-“

“It’s alright. I understand y/n”

“Yes, thank you. This has been great”

“So… now that you’re not my therapist, can I meet you for coffee this evening?”

“Harry-“

“Half an hour, Dr y/l/n. Just give me half an hour of your time, if you still feel the same way, I’ll never bother you again”

“Uh-" you hesitate. You knew you should have said no. You were going to say no. Yet the words which came out of your mouth were “Okay then, it’s a date”

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

Taglist:

@mischiefmanaged011 @notsosmexy @perspectiveparker @justanothermarvelmaniac @amorhollands @thisetaernallove @halfblood-princess-505 @spidey-reids-2003 @peterspideysstuff @musicalkeys @theliterarymess @ilarbu @hollands-weasley @tombob2005 @tommysparker @god-knows-what-am-i-doing @parkerpeter24 @more-like-reyna @hollandbroz-n-haz @aqiise

[wickedapollo]

This is going to become a Saint-14 blog you watch. Everything is going to be become Saint. Everything. Oh my God, I love that man. I can't. I can't even.

Anyways, this is a Dawning gift for my friends [@lady-efriyeet @galexion @nyllius ]! It may come out before then, I have no idea currently, as I write this. I am very motivated for this one, unlike my promised Shiro oneshot... Oops. I'll get to that one in due time I swear.

Saint-14 x Hunter! Reader

Warnings : angst and [reads smudged writing on hand] flurf

The wind nips at your unarmed arms, snaking up your biceps and brushing against your throat. Your fingertips are numb with the chill, you flex them but it is all for not. They aren't frozen just cold. You sigh, closing your eyes and hanging your head.

You can't remember the last time you had a day off, it seems all you do is move about the system, killing things, saving people, and then you move on. Move on as though a leaf upon the wind who's only motive is to please such that hurries you. It is a sad existence, you think to yourself, that I am only something used to fight the battles that everyday people cannot. The mere idea that you are useless makes your heart sink in your chest. Perhaps if it sinks lower it may fall through you and hit the floor, shattering with all your prizes, all you hold dear.

Your eyes wander back to the silent bazaar. It is, after all, only two A.M. and most sane people are asleep. Your thoughts and insomnia keep you awake, brushing at the fingertips of sleep while your body falls more and more awakened. You hate nights like these, when sleep is scarce and there is no one to talk to.

If only your prayers could talk back.

You wrap your arms around your ribs as you straighten to look up at the traveler. The pristine machine god offers you no solution. No end to your sleepless night. Only the same silence as it has always treated you.

"Голубь?" It is a small, almost whisper-like voice. Scratchy and groggy from sleep. Like what you had once imagined dark chocolate would sound, not that you had imagined voices for the food you ate, that was preposterous, but it was a way to describe it. "What are you doing awake?"

"I can't sleep." You murmur, more to yourself than to him. You watch him rise groggily onto his metal forearms and squint into the darkness of your bedroom. His optics adjust in brightness, much like eyes adjusting to the dark. He sits there for less time than you expect before he pushes himself up and looks around slowly.

"It's twenty-five til three." He states, and for a moment he seems amazed by the time. Perhaps the fact that it is so late and you are still up? Who knows. He pulls the blankets off of his lap to stand, boards creaking under his feet as he does so. He easily towers over you, optics blinking as he adjusts to the lighting.

You can’t help but shrink further into the linen curtains. You know Saint means well, he always does, you don’t feel like being berated for not sleeping. Not that Saint would do that, but you know he’s going to ask questions. It’s his way of looking after you, you know. You appreciate it sometimes.

However, he doesn’t, instead he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into the soft cotton of his t-shirt. You would expect, like most metal things, Saint would be cold to the touch. He never is, and no matter how many times you’ve touched him, you are always surprised at how warm he really is. You hope all exos are this way, though you could never truly be sure, and are too afraid to test your new theory.

“Perhaps I can help?” He offers, in the soft tone that only he can have. It reverberates throughout his chest as his hands gently smooth over your back. Truthfully they don’t have to go far, Saint’s hands are huge. You barely have enough room for one, let alone both of them. You don’t complain though, only pressing your face into his chest with a nod.

You’re moving before you can truly process it. Being pulled towards the bed with little protest, in no hurry to leave your titan’s embrace. He seems in even less a hurry to let you go. Though that is Saint, always has been, always doting and encouraging.

Strong hands lift you up, and though he doesn't say it, what he wants is as clear to you as the night sky. You sluggishly wrap your legs around his waist and wrap your arms around his neck. He moves his hands under your thighs and sets his chin on your shoulder as he walks. There's something soothing about it, perhaps it is why babies are rocked to sleep.

His warmth is intoxicating, like sitting by an open fire and reading. Like being curled in a fuzzy blanket while the wind and rain howl outside the window, something so natural and peaceful that it may have lulled you to sleep right there- If you were not so keen on staying awake to avoid the nightmares. Though your eyes droop and your limbs are heavy, you force yourself to stay awake.

If you wait long enough, Saint will let you load up on caffeine and give you disappointing looks. You could handle that, you hope. It's just that you are so tired, it's almost criminal. It's to the point you feel like crying- for no reason- at anything.

Soon enough your ambition falters, you close your eyes. They were just so heavy, you argue to yourself, not even Atlas could have held them open.

Soon your arms relax around Saint, hands falling limply from his shoulders to hang lifelessly. Your fingers rest against the warm metal of his arms, twitching as he moves. It's only then you notice, somehow, he's humming.

You try to count his tune, as a last resort of staying awake. You lose it at six, arguing over what number you had missed to not get an eight count- and you pass out then and there. Slipping into the dark, like a warm blanket.

Saint, in all honesty, isn’t ready to put you down. He’s afraid you’ll wake up if he stops moving, it’s happened before. Though that was about a year ago, and he had unceremoniously tossed you on the bed, thinking nothing of the fact that you were human and very, very fragile.

He sighs, looking over at the clock on the bedside table. You really didn't use it, never had need for an alarm, that's what you had your Ghost for. But he used it periodically, like now, seeing that it read three a.m even. The titan finally lays you down, pulling the covers over your chilled body and up to your chin. When he's satisfied he kisses your forehead, metal lips lingering along your warm brow. You could be coming down with a cold, he thinks, one more thing to worry about…

You resituate to hug a pillow close to your chest, burying your face into it's softness. It makes Saint smile. You may be Saladin's Young Wolf, who fights with honor and Valor. A god killer. However, you are also his. His guardian, his love, and his inspiration. And he is soft for you.

The large titan moves to the window, glancing out into the empty street with contempt. There is a light on across the street, with shadows moving to and from in front of the window. He smiles, someone's wrapping presents for the Dawning still. He watches them move back and forth until the light goes out.

He leans back into the apartment and shuts the open window without question. It's late, he should sleep, too. He draws the curtains and pads back to his side of the bed. You've already stolen most of the blankets, but he can't find it in him to take them from you.

Instead he lays there, quiet as he listens to you breathe and snore softly. What a beautiful way to spend tonight, he thinks, when the room is warm.

However, now it is his turn not to find sleep. He tosses and turns for nearly twenty minutes. He sighs tiredly at the white ceiling. Perhaps if he counts the popcorn bits he can sleep. So he starts, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5…

No dice.

An arm snakes around his waist sleepily and you pull him close. You're nowhere near fully conscious, just awake enough to be a sleepy, cuddly mess. He turns his head to look at you in surprise as you nestle into his side and nose along his jugular vein, or coolant tube… either way.

"Did I wake you, Love?"

"Mmm?" You reply, eyes falling closed as you wrap a leg around his thigh. You still as you have found comfort in the position. Saint can't hide his smile, accepting the exchange and wrapping his arms around you. You're warm, and rightfully so, you're swaddled in blankets like a fluff tortilla.

His fingers sneak into your fluffy, messy hair. Carding through it and watching it fall back into place again and again. He lets out sigh, sounding more like a purr than an actual breath. His optics dim in the lighting, and he yawns.

"Sleep tight, Моя любовь."

[thisdreamplace]

Im sad nd m feeling hopeless byond woeds. i feel directionless , alone nd..... very upset about everything in my life

Like yesterday i tried to talk to my mum abt somethng that was bothering me nd instead, she gets so much madder like she has high bp and her bp went up from yelling the crud outa me, like the only explanation other than eiyoo is she got defensive nd felt i was being ungrateful, i mean everyone else in the family stays silent and dont step forward i feel abandoned sometimes like maybe they're secretly glad shes not mad at them? Im sick of feeling this way. Idk if u know this feeling? Im not talking abt her my mum but i mean abt life in general? One real reason my mum is harsh is cuz im not doing well in life, like im not going places i want to (not literal places like metaphoricaly) bcuz of fear and social anxiety that no one ariynd me has a teeny idea of what its like. So im aware that she wants the best for me cuz i understand the everyone is u cincepf a bit. Even then its been years of same things nd issues repeating with me. For example m feeling like im gonna crack one day and when i break forever i don't even want to pick up my pieces!

Im so happy to hear ur doing wonderfully. Nd a part of me felt angry at it for a short while lol honestly like how come things are effortlesly going for u as u say, why cant i how can i experience it too, even tho my inner place is a nightmare place 😆 not a dreamplace like urs. I actually lov ur blog nd you lol dont mind me im just throwing out my thoughts, nd I fully understand how things weren't easy for u in the beginning nd everything u say on ur blog. Wish i could be brave nd not in my mind only

💀 nightmare place

i feel sad that you feel so down because life seems like its against you and you're feeling hopeless. its truly the worst to be in that sort of mindset, and i truly know you can find your way out of it. i'm glad you felt safe throwing out your thoughts here.

the truth of the matter is... the law can be difficult in the way that you really have to be willing to take responsibility for yourself. you really have to be willing to stop feeling sorry for yourself. you really have to be the one to pick yourself up and say, "enough is enough, i cant live like this anymore — i have to do better for myself." the truth is you have to want it more than you want to stay in your comfort zone. because if you dont, your comfort zone will always be waiting to invite you back in. and you will always answer the call. i would know, i lived like that most of my life. because the old way of life is comforting, its what youve always known so it makes more sense to you. you rationalize it, "this is the way things have always been." well guess what. it doesnt have to be that way. but i cant make you change your mind. only you can take that leap of faith.

you have to be willing to change before anyone and anything else does. no more waiting for life to treat you better so that you can finally feel good, you have to feel better with or without the help of the 3D.

when you say it made you angry to see how i'm doing well, i understand. i used to be similar. success stories were bittersweet. i felt happy for the person, but upset that i couldnt relate. why was everyone else able to make the law work in weeks and yet it had been months for me, and things just didnt seem to work ? why me ? that's the way i used to think.

well one day you'll look back at this type of moment and it'll all make sense. you seriously cannot keep being the same person, thinking the same thoughts and same feelings you have for years, thinking you'll get a new result. it's the opposite of what the law teaches us to be true. you've got to change and i mean really change. you must let the old story die and let the new story become your life, entirely.

you can brush off my struggle easily, but realize this. everyday i wake up and make the conscious decision to wake up and have a beautiful experience. a month ago i literally hit rock bottom; everything in the 3D i cared about so much seemed to fall apart. and i had to face that and still find the strength to say, "you know what, fuck this — i can't keep living this way." without the help of the 3D i had to pick myself up everyday, even when i felt like crumbling. i had more than my fair share of crying all day, of feeling like my heart would literally come out because of how hard i cried. considering that maybe life isnt for me after all, and perhaps i would be better off ending it there. i didnt have anything in the external world to give me hope. i had to find hope within myself. i had to look at a world that made me feel so ugly and decide its actually a beautiful world, despite the illusion. i had to take the law seriously, i had to surrender to the teachings, i had to make the art of imagining a daily practice because i decided i deserve better. and only i can give that to myself. the world cannot provide me with anything i refuse to provide myself with — this is the basics of the law. and through persistence, through not giving up on myself on the hard days, i am now singing a much more beautiful song.

when you fully accept that 1) imagining creates reality and 2) you are the only cause for all you experience... it becomes difficult to not take this more seriously. because you know how whatever you are/have within, is your experience. but you have to surrender to those truths, its up to you. i'd recommend listening to the podcast 'feeling twisty' if you're interested in what i'm saying here. mike is really the one who's explanation of the law helped me learn the importance of taking responsibility for my inner world.

im rooting for you sweet, dream place. behind the illusion of the nightmare, a dream awaits. 💖

[sasskarian]

First Line Meme

I was tagged by @asaara-writes. Thank you, my dearest! <3 

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. Then tag 10 of your favorite authors!

My Heart and I -

If there’s one thing about Evelyn Swann that the entire Commonwealth knows by now, it is her love of music. Silence does not mark Evelyn’s arrival anywhere— instead, the soft tones of Billie Holiday do, crooning about mountains moved for love. Or the sultry voice of Lady Day herself, Ella Fitzgerald, floating around her and the companions like a bubble of the past, dreaming on into the future. Heavy footsteps beat out a tempo contrasting Butcher Pete and his big old ‘knife’ and everywhere she goes, she trails ribbons of jazz and cheer.

Like Afterimages - 

The settlers call her a survivor. Sanctuary calls her a savior. Codsworth cries when she returns from the wastelands, dragging in another minute— heh— victory for the Minutemen, or another rescued synth she doesn’t tell anyone about. But Mama Murphy just calls her a ghost.

That’s what she is, after all. Just a two hundred year old ghost. Like a mirage, superimposed on the darkness, burned into immortality by nuclear fallout and tragedy. Evelyn is only sometimes here, those dark gray eyes a pair of rain clouds on the distant horizon, drifting on invisible fronts. The thunder is inside of her, too, a raging storm swirling in her chest, beating fists made of babies crying and gunshots rimmed in frost ringing out against her ribs.

The Thrill of Your Hand - 

Danse has been a soldier too long to be a deep sleeper.

That’s the first thing the Brotherhood trains you out of. The indoctrination comes later, because only a good soldier can be indoctrinated, and a good soldier has to wake up at the first hint of danger. So when he hears the first whimper from across the room, his eyes snap open.

Paladin’s Bubble - 

The Commonwealth is quiet tonight.

It’s not silent, by any stretch: Evie can hear the hounds in the distance, their mutated throats sending their boofs echoing through the streets of Boston even from a long distance, and somewhere— a mile or more— the whoop of a raiding party rises over the station’s lookout, too far away to do anything but pity the poor prey they’ve caught. Dogmeat grunts, his paws pushing against her armored thigh as he stretches. His ears are perked, though, so he’s just catching some rest while he can. Even the thwomp-and-hiss of her partner’s power armor is missing from the darkness, the red light of his scope the only thing highlighting his face in their little bubble of quiet.

After the Glitter Fades - 

“If there is a future to be had,” Fenris murmured, his lips hovering near Hawke’s, “I will walk into it gladly at your side.”

His gorgeous green eyes were fixed on hers and Hawke fumbled for a moment, a half-smile playing across her mouth as her fingers played with the crumbling stone behind her. Silly, but part of her almost wanted to believe him. With the smallest sound, Fenris leaned in, his gauntleted fingers sliding through her hair as he kissed her— it started out soft, a chaste brush of warm lips and warmer breath, but within a couple of heartbeats, it deepened into something that promised wildness and fire.

Glitter: Marginalia - (E)

She can’t remember what dragged her awake— only that it left a sour, desperate taste in her mouth like old coppers and the cheapest bottle of whatever would get her drunk enough to sleep.

Waking up with nightmares is nothing new. The Amell curse, as most of the Kirkwall film crews call it, has yet to hit Hawke directly, but it had taken her father (a stunt gone wrong) and her mother and uncle (an unlucky intruder)– had struck Carver, too. She and Garrett and Bethie are safe, so far, but it's only a matter of time until it circles back around. The curse is a generations-long predator, still and patient, and it will hunt them down one at a time if it has to  

Ah, Kirkwall, she thinks, some blend of annoyance and fondness and adrenaline mixing uneasily in her heart. You fuck with us again and again and still, here we are.

He Might Like That - 

“So. Let me get this straight.” Greef lifts his bad knee with a groan, settling it over his other leg so he can sprawl a little more indolently. Din’s HUD focuses in, shows the elevated temperature in the joint in a dark red, and he turns it off with a flicker of his eye. Greef lifts his glass again, takes a sip, and gestures with it before continuing. “You two. Not together?”

Where I Can’t Follow - 

The day Geralt of Rivia dies, he hears the whistle of the sword which almost kills him. There’s a series of tiny holes stamped along the spine of the blade, keeping weight down and adding a sinister shrill hiss through the air on each pass. The raiding party - if it can be dignified with such language - are nearly all armed with similar steel, with hunting horns, rattling chime-spangled shields, and bullroarer slings wailing and droning like an oncoming swarm of giant wasps. The effect is deafening, overpowering all efforts to coordinate the various companies on this mission.

Malicious Compliance - (M)

So this is how it feels to have a galaxy tremble at your feet.

Not just the galaxy, though— millions of lives shuddering under the weight of your boot on their necks cannot compare to the half-lidded gray-blue eyes drinking you in like you’re his salvation and damnation both. No, there is power in this, in these stolen moments with him, that rivals nothing else you’ve found anywhere among the stars.

He’s a brave man, your Captain.

Counting the Days (since Exegol) - 

“That’s good, Finn.”

Rey smiles, feeling the Force ebb and flow around Finn as he manages to lift himself a few inches off the ground-- along with the meditation mat, two glasses of water, and the plate of snacks they keep for anyone who comes to visit. Finn cracks an eye open, smiles back at her, and lands with a thump. For half a moment, she almost expects him to be disappointed that his training is progressing slowly: hyper-competency is a Stormtrooper trait he’ll never outgrow.

Star by Star - 

The galaxy looks different now.

It’s not just the cautious celebrations still happening, weeks later. And it’s not just the way people step back from her now, too much reverence in them for her comfort. It’s in the way she looks at the sky and sees the color of Luke’s eyes, and the gentle wind that feels so much like Leia’s hand, she cries. The way that Poe’s back straightens at the podium, broadcasting Republic news to everyone, and Finn’s hand clutching his under the table, their life forces bright and right in her senses.

Stardust and Memory (and a little bit of romance) - 

“Wow.”

Jaal chuckled against her ear, hands firmly on her waist; a good thing, probably, or she’d be on her face on the floor. “It is… a lot, I know.”

“No!” Sara protested, only wilting when Jaal tilted his head at her. “...okay, maybe a little. There’s just— a lot of them?”

Scars and Holes and Broken Things - 

Whispers follow him wherever he goes.

What’s left of the crew whispers in the halls, the mess, on the bridge, and conversations trail off when his ghost walks through, haunting the only place that's ever felt like home. Whatever they’re saying doesn’t matter, though—he doesn’t care. He’s too tired to care. He hasn’t slept more than his body demands in weeks. Tali’s immune system has already begun to destroy itself, and even though the Normandy is stocked with more dextro rations than it’s ever carried before—

Almost like Shepard knew. Always prepared, that’s my girl.

Heart of the Woods - (E)

You left the Templars, but do you trust mages? Can you think of me as anything more?

Less than a fortnight of sweet words, gentle touches, and stolen kisses are the only weapons she could levy against the trauma that shaped a man’s youth. And for a moment in time, Isera hoped.

Common Ground (isn’t so hard to find) - 

“Skkut! Ryder!”

“Sorry, Enroh— oh!” Sara tried to stop, bounced into a low bench, and crashed into a pile of bruised, groaning Pathfinder on the other side. At least this time, she remembered to shield her head as she skidded to rest against the wall. Lexi would be pleased. Another concussion would get her put back under the scanner and that just ruined everyone’s day. “...ow.”

A Language Reserved for Lovers - (M)

The first time you touch him, his skin flushes red; the first time he touches you back, he trembles. Interesting, since if there is a word to describe him, it is steadfast. But there is more beneath the easy surface, beneath the deadly grace and unflagging stamina. He is loyal, and good, and so fascinating under the burden of his name. But nineteen is a young age, even if you're only a little older, and he seemed so young at first, unsure and innocent— then he gave you that crooked little grin, and stole your heart with it.

Every Beautiful Thing - 

I would prefer to be Mary Shelley. She died a widow.

Despite a foolhardy counter, thrown in indifference and pride, Edith never really thought she would be a widow. Despite her foolish quip so many years ago, she is no Mary Shelley. And despite moderate success as an author and teller of stories, the only thing she and Shelley have in common is a belief in a world outside of the everyday, and widowhood.

Yesterdays - 

He’s always thought she was invincible.

Sure, Morrigan told them the truth of the Archdemon’s death, an account more grisly and heartbreaking than the one Riordan gave; just the sort of tale that might ensnare a young boy’s heart, give him delusions of grandeur, while an older man might look upon it with resignation. But the truth doesn’t sink in until now.

If You Ever did Believe - 

“There are people dying,” Isera repeated slowly, as if she could make her advisers understand what she'd seen. As if giving her memories voice might lift some of their weight in her heart. “We couldn’t even get to Redcliffe because of the fighting.”

Three days of being stuck on a horse, only to have to turn around after three skirmishes— their first mission to the Hinterlands had been a remarkable experiment in failure. Isera had learned her skills at the hands of the best of her clan, had fought alone for years, and yet the shock of tripping over Varric and accidentally hitting Cassandra with a ball of ice had made their first fight a near loss.

Some saviors, Varric had laughed afterward, staggering around like baby nugs.

Glitter: Velvet over Veridium - 

If anyone had ever accused Marian Hawke of being a reasonable adult human being, she might have laughed at them. No, she'd have pointed and then laughed at them. But under all her bluster, and all her immature jokes, her dirty one-liners and cheesy pick-up lines, there was an adult hidden in there somewhere.

Okay, maybe I put more than one opening line, but I have a thing for context, dammit! 

This got so long -- mobile users, I’m sorry omg. 

Forwarding the tag (no pressure as always!) to @mayihavethisdanse @athreehundredthirtythree @thebisexualmandalorian @natsora @loquaciousquark @valdomarx @theggning @cullywullycurlywurly @systlin and @third-rail-vip 

[dreamer213]

Broken machines: Lights The Dark

Chapter 1 Lovely Day

Italicized: Narration

Bold: Inner Thoughts

.

.

.

Staring at the foot of Pyrrha Nikos I am broken and helpless. I can not move, I can not hear anything, half of my body has been torn off and is laying a foot away from the rest of me, and my vision is fading.

My systems, my strength, even my voice are…failing.

EVERYTHING IS FAILING! ITS SO DARK! I CANT SEE ANYTHING! I CANT GET UP! MY LEGS! I CANT MOVE! I CANT! I CANT! GENERAL! DAD! ANYONE! SOMEBODY PLEASE HELP ME!

This is horrible. I feel like I still being crushed. I feel-I feel… Scared? It this what scared feels like? Or is it….. death? Am I dying? No no NO! That can’t be it! This can’t be it! I just made my first friends, I just entered my first Vytal Festival Tournament, I just started really living my life it can’t just end. Not here not like this……….Daddy please help me.

…..I….I don’t want to die.

I DON’T WANNA DIE!!!!!!

At that moment Penny’s eyes shot open as she wakes from her nightmare. She sits up in a state of pure distress, taking short panicked breaths, her pajamas and hair are disheveled and the cable in her back ,the connector for her power station, has become loose from its socket from her violent shaking. She looks down at the blanket covering the lower half of her body, with a shaky hand Penny pulls back the covers to reveal not the broken and mangled pair from her nightmare but a set of perfectly attached, full intact, pale and freckle dusted legs. This sight calms her and pulls Penny full out of her daze, she pulls the cable out then flops down on the bed, her eyes glow softly.

Systems Overview:

Optics: Fully Functional

Hearing: Fully Functional

Nerves: Fully Functional

Weapons Systems: Fully Functional

Temperature Gauge: Fully Functional

Power Storage: Fully Functional………………

All Systems Are Functioning And Full Operational.

Penny: Pffft, It was just another dream. That marks two weeks and four days between this dream and the last dream, five weeks and two days from the one before that and two months from very the first. I’ll have to inform the General about this if it continues.

She shakes her head in dismissal

….No that would be useless. Informing him will result in me being sent to the lab for some diagnostic tests and a few scans. And since my systems aren’t showing any signs of error it’ll just be waste of time and resources. And we can’t afford to waste more of ether. Not now (Sighs).

She reaches into the drawer of her nightstand and pulls out a book and pen, she makes a few quick notes then return the items to their place, gets up, and begins her preparations for day ahead. She brushes her teeth, changes into her work clothes, tidies up her hair, puts on and securing her rocket boots, grabs her backpack, then heads down stairs. Right after turning back around for one last mirror check before she goes.

She arrives down stairs to see her Dad setting up the table with two plates of breakfast and two mugs, one filled with coffee, the other strawberry milk. As he finishes up Pietro spots Penny making her way towards him. He smiles brightly, his little girl is up bright and early again today.

Pietro: Good Morning, Sunshine of mine.

Penny: Good morning Dad.

Pietro: How are you doing this morning?

Penny: I am functioning optimally and all my systems and programs are running correctly.

Pietro: What about the “dreams” ? Are you still having them?

Penny: N-no I have not. (Hiccup)

Pietro: Uh Huh. Now Penny you know that I love you ,and you know I will always be there whenever you need me. But I can’t help you when you need me if you don’t tell me.

Penny: But there isn’t anything you can do about this. This isn’t an error or virus or anything to do with my specs or my hardware, there’s nothing wrong with me for you to fix.

Pietro: Not everything is matter fixing broken parts, sometimes it’s more a matter understanding emotions and talking about hardships. I’d be happy to help you with both whenever you want.

Penny: Thank you Dad but I do not think that will be of any significant help with this problem. And with the increase of my responsibilities, the rise in overall military activity and “ the project” I cannot add another issue to my daily routine. So please let’s just leave this problem be, just for little while.

Pietro: I understand I wouldn’t bother you about anymore. Now come here eat your breakfast, the foods getting cold.

Penny: Dad I don’t need to eat.

Pietro: But you can eat and makes you happy, isn’t that a good enough reason for doing it.

Penny: Okay, okay but I only have ten minutes and fifty three seconds to spare. If I stay any longer I’ll be running behind schedule.

Pietro: Well we can’t have that now can we? Better sit down and eat while you can!

Penny quickly takes a seat in front of her plate. She looks at her meal, two sunny side up eggs two pieces of welled spiced sausage and white toast cut into two triangles. She takes a deep inhale, picks up her fork, and takes her first bite. The eggs have warm welcoming taste as the yolk isn’t too runny and the whites are just the right amount of chewy. The sausage is tender and juicy, the rich meat flavor with a of spicy kick makes hard to stop from eating too fast. And rounding up the plate the wonderful toast has come out just right today, not too soft nor too burnt with a generous amount of butter on top. A pure blanket of soft crunchy buttery goodness. But once the food all gone the only way to finish up a proper breakfast is with a morning beverage. For today that morning beverage is cold and sweet strawberry milk. A creamy and sweet way to put some sugar and vitamin D into your morning.

It’s nothing special really, just a simple everyday meal but for Penny ,someone so new to the practice of eating and enjoying food, it is a moment of pure and utter bliss.~

Penny: Delicious as always, thanks Dad.

Penny gets up and turns to leave.

Pietro: Wait! Aren’t you forget something?

Penny: The dishes?

Pietro: No.

Pietro goes over to her, spreads his arms out, and gestures to her.

Penny: Oh!

Penny leans down and warps her arms around him. She stays like this just long enough to soak in her father’s warmth, he give her a kiss on the head as she pulls away.

Pietro: I love you Sweetheart.

Penny: I love you too Dad. I’ll be home before 10 pm.

Penny walks to the door gives her dad a quick wave and is out the door. Once on the streets she clicks the heels of her rocket boots to active them then takes off into the sky to begin her daily responsibilities.

7:30 AM to 12:00 PM Patrol Mantle’s streets

After a quick aerial scan of streets below Penny lands a starts to survey the area, everything seems to be in order store owners are opening their shop doors, groups of children are walking to school, the buses transporting the mine and factory workers, though noticeably less full then usual, are running according to the schedule, and the late night patrons of Sammy’s Pub are finally heading home from another night of intoxication. Mr. Calves, a man known for being a destructive alcoholic, is slumped against the building and losing consciousness fast.

Penny: Mr. Calves please leave this area and return to your home immediately. The owner of this establishment has already stated several times that you can no longer loiter here after business hours and has asked to have you trespassed if you refuse.

Claves looks at Penny with disgust as he shakily stands up. He downs the remaining liquid in his bottle, he then swings the empty bottle at Penny’s head! Once the bottle is within inches of her face Penny grips him by his forearm, applying just enough pressure to stopping him in his tracks. While holding him steadily Penny calmly takes the bottle from his hand and gingerly places it on ground, straights up Calves’s clothes, then looks up and makes eye contact.

Penny: I repeat please leave the area and return home. Or I will have you trespassed and will have to take you to the near military station.

Calves finally takes the hit and skiddes away. As he leaves Penny turns her attention back towards the streets just in time to see a group of small children heading to school. A little boy with light blue hair and a little gap in his teeth notices her while walking with his friends.

“Hey it’s Ms. Penny!” he shouts, this grabs the attention of the other children as they all turn their heads at the mention of the friendly neighborhood protector.

Soon there was swarm of little hands waving wildly and a chorus of “Hi Ms. Penny” “Good Morning Ms. Protector” and “ Hi Ms. Hero” can be heard from blocks away as the parents tried their hardest to get their awestruck children to keep on their way with little success. Penny smiled brightly and waved back at them, this had become her favorite part of her morning patrols since she was tasked with the role of Mantle’s Protector. After a month or so of handling both the Grimm and crime in Mantle the people had began to recognize her as somewhat of a neighborhood hero. Although they would not approach her often most adults would wave to her as she passes by them during patrols. The children would look at her with fascination and wonder asking all sorts of questions like how she flew, why was she was so strong, and if she could give them a ride on her back while she fled around! And the elder, especially the older woman, would treat her like one would a sweet child, telling her not to stay out too late, reminding her to wear thicker clothes when it got cold, and would give her small treats like candies, small cookies, and leftover baked goods whenever they had the chance.

This is what gives her work so much meaning. The comfort and happiness she saw in their eyes, that’s what Penny was protecting, that’s what she’d repeat to herself whenever things got difficult. As long as the people, her people, were safe she could handle whatever role or new responsibility the higher ups decide to throw at her. As long as she could fight they could smile and as long they could smile she could fight.

“RING” “RING” “RING”

Penny’s scroll rings, a loud blaring alarm, it’s a status update from the security officers in charge of the surveillance drones there are two on going altercation happening sixteen blocks away, a small fire twelve blocks east, One large Grimm at the southern most edge that’s proving to be a problem for the morning squadron, and a small pack of Grimm making their way towards one of mines due southeast. In summary a normal morning in Mantle.

Penny: And like clockwork my morning peace has comes to an end. If I help with the fire first and handle the altercations a few blocks ahead then fly max speed across town to get to the Grimm I should be able to cut off the pack just before they reach the mine.

She puts her scroll away and turns to take off but not before giving the crowd one more wave as she clicks her heels and twirls as she jets up into the air. She then does a very showy wink and peace sign for the crowd and flys off.

1:00pm to 4:00 pm Training With Military Huntsman

After cutting off and taking down the pack of Grimm Penny heads to the military training center to add the other hunters as they hon their skills in biweekly training sessions. Now most days Penny will just set the facilities to train the specific skills each team needs to work on for both group and individual training. But Penny will join in if a session requires another person or if she is specifically requested. Today is Team FNKI’s turn and they’ve requested that Penny train with them, though it was more like Neon begged for two full hours to have Penny join them so she could play with Penny’s “pretty light swords”.

Once the boys are all set with their individualized training, Neon and Penny are left at the center for a 1 vs 1 sparing match. Neon playful circles Penny rainbow trailing behind her. She smiles coley ,twirling her her nunchucks and her tail, as though she doesn’t have a care in the world.

Neon: you ready to dance Penny? Cause I’ve been dying to see if those cute swords of yours are more then just a light show.

Penny: I can assure you Neon Katt my swords are indeed military grade weapons, the lights are an indicator of the connection between them and my systems so I may use them freely. They are also optimal for fighting in the dark and at night.

Neon: And you just ruined the joke killjoy. So if you’re done talking I’m just gonna beat cha with my chucks, ‘Kay.

Neon changes her stance then charges at Penny, she swings her chucks wildly at Penny trying to land a hit. Penny dodges her rapid attacks for a bit but that soon fails as Neon only grows more fierce with each swing. Neon closing in she’s just about to landing a hit but when she brings down her chucks something blocks her, she loses her balance and is pushed back. Once she regains her composure she see Penny with one of her swords in hand and smile on her face. Penny looks at her for a second then let’s go of her blade letting it flow upward to above her head. Once’s it there she releases the rest of her arsenal, the blades fanning out around her like a peacock’s tail creating a beautiful but deadly display. Penny raises her hand to Neon and gestures for her to make a move.

Game on.

The girls continue their sparing for the duration of the session, when the time almost up the door to the training room is swung open. The elegant Winter Schnee enters the room with a loud bang, grabbing everyone’s attention and stopping them dead in their tracks.

Winter: Team FNKI Your session is over please clear out so the next group may enter.

With that the boys grab their things and start head towards the door while Neon stands there sulking.

Neon: Aww man, But I wanted to play some more.

Flynt: Kitty no it’s time to go, say goodbye to your friend.

Neon: Ugggh, fine..

Neon begins to leave, looking upset and defeated she skates to the door but right as she’s about to leave she perks up and skates back to Penny.

Neon: You have your scroll on you?

Penny: Yes.

Neon: Gimme it like Now!

Penny hands Neon her scroll, Neon starts fiddling with the scroll until she finds the app she’s looking for then starts typing. Once she’s done she hands the scroll back to Penny.

Neon: If you’re ever bored or want tickets to our next concert hit me up ‘Kay.

Penny: Okay?

Neon: Awesome, and don’t worry about calling too late I’m a real night owl.

Flynt: KITTY!

Neon: OKAY! Bye Penny Pop, later Winter Wonder. See you losers in few days!

Neon rolls out of the room while Flynt looks back apologetically before leaving with the rest of his team. Penny and Winter are left standing in the room in an awkward silence.

Winter: Penny, go change the settings for the room to my presets.

Penny: Right away Ma’am

Winter: And Penny.

Penny: Yes Ma’am?

Winter: Don’t get distracted. We don’t have time for distribution.

Penny: Yes of course Ma’am.

Penny leaves the room and heads to the control room to change the settings. Once she’s finished she call a co-worker to take over as she grabs her things and leaves for her next task.

5:00 pm to 8:00 pm Filling Out Reports At The Military Outpost

After a quick flight from the training center Penny heads to the nears Military Outpost or Military Station to fill out reports on petrols, arrests, Grimm sightings and kills, and any oddity or security issues she might have noticed in between her commutes are the cities. Basically everything that needs to go on record throughout the day was to written and submitted at this time.

This was is the part of the day Penny dislike the most. After hours of detaining criminal, fighting Grimm, training with military huntsman, and keeping the community safe sitting at a computer, in an uncomfortable chair and typing everything out for hours on end was truly mental draining. Recounting an entire day down to the mundane details, filling out arrest form after arrest form, document after document is just so soul sucking and horrible. But this what she and every military member had to do when their work day comes to an end in order to keep the system running.

Penny walks in to the station she shows her identification to the front desk assistant, she is then given a usb, and boozed into the main building. Once she’s in she looks for the nears open computer, once she finds it she sits down, logs in to the system, inserts the usb, and gets to work.

After two hours of typing away Penny’s close to finishing her work a bit earlier the usual when Chief Stones, the man in charge of the station, comes running towards her with a phone in hand.

Stones: Poledina, I just got off the phone with the southwest shipping facility. They need some extra security on today’s shipment transfer and they asked for you specifically, so get down there.

Penny: Yes Sir.

Stones: And don’t forget to come back and finish your reports once you’re done.

Penny: ………Yes Sir.

After saving her work and removing the usb Penny grabs her things, heads outside and straight to the sky. After a near hour or so of flying Penny spots the facility coming up on the horizon. She’s getting closer when suddenly a truck comes zooming past her at an intense speed. It’s the shipping truck! But why is it going so fast? Where was the security detail that was supposed to be escorting them? And why is it going off the normal route? Penny stops and gets ready to jet off after the truck when-

“ HELP! SOMEBODY HELP US!”

That’s when Penny turn back and sees smoke. The truck could wait someone was in danger and she was the only one there to help. She flys towards the screaming only to find it’s the security detail! The vans been thrown on it’s side and a fires broke out. The guards have made out of the vehicle but most are injured some are unconscious the strongest of them is waving Penny down with one arm while keeping a wound close with the other.

Penny: Penny Poledina Mantle Main Security, What happened here?

Long: Seth Long Transport Security, there was a breach at the facility it turned out false alarm but once we got back they’d already set off smoke bombs in loading dock and ran off with the truck. We tried catch up with them but I think they saw it coming they set off some sort of trap and blow us off the road. Our van got flipped 5 of my men were injured 3 are out cold there was nothing we could.

Penny: We need to get you and your men to a medic right now-

Long: WAIT! There’s 1 man still in that van, he was driving when we gave chase and got stuck when we crashed. He’s names Tony, please you gotta save him.

Penny looks at the man for a moment, the desperation and fear clear in his eyes, she rips a piece off her skirt and uses it to dress Long’s wound then heads for the van. It doesn’t take her long to spot Tony, he has multiple injuries, has breathed in a lot of smoke, and is losing consciousness. Penny pulls out one of her swords and cuts him out the seatbelt. Once he’s free she gently picks him up and jets up and out of the van. When they’re back on solid ground she sets Tony down next to Long, Long gingerly pats Tony’s head and mouths “thank you” to Penny before his strength finally gives and he passes out. Penny pulls out her scroll and calls for medical attention, in the meantime she does everything she can to keep the men stable until help arrives.

It takes a few hours for everything to get cleared up but soon everything has documented and everyone in need of medical attention has either been seen or sent to the hospital for a few nights stay. With that Penny quickly heads back to the station to wraps up her reports for the day then heads home. It’s one thirty in the morning, it been a very long day and all Penny can think about is getting home, taking off her boots, getting out of her now dirty work clothes, and getting some sleep. Before she knows it she’s standing at her front door, she grabs her keys and quietly opens the door trying her hardest not to make too much noise so she doesn’t wake her dad, only to find him waiting for her at the table with a warm plate of chicken and rice with tomato soup. Penny smiles at him and heads to table for a nice late dinner and some family time. Once dishes are done and Dad’s gone off to bed Penny goes to her room, she takes off her boots, grabs some clean pajamas and heads to her bathroom she then washes off the day’s dirty and grime, puts on her pjs and heads to her bed. Once she’s in her bed she plugs herself into her power station, tucks herself with her nice warm blankets, snuggle her head into her pillow, and falls into a hard earned and well deserved night sleep.

[darling-dummy-blogs]

Grieving Memory- Victor Li

Summary: Victor lost Mia before. He took her death very harshly, fast forward a few years later, Victor was able to fall in love again with Emci. However, throughout their relationship she begins to see how much he was grieving over Mia's death.  

Paring: Victor Li X Emci (Another MC)

Genre: Heavy Angst

Warnings: Chapter 18 Related. (There are minor implications of this, but just to be aware of, this is based off of the events that took place at the end of Chapter 18. However this is my own interpretations of it.)

Fandom: Mr. Love Queen's Choice

Word Count: 2.1k

Notes: 

This also will be told in Emci’s POV (The first half at least (Which will be a mixture of 1st Person & 3rd Person POV)

Based off of the prompt below: “I can’t erase it from my mind. I just replay it over and over again. I think about it all the time.” 

There were days where Victor seemed fine.  Everything had been great. However there had been days where Victor had seemed off. It wasn’t like he was another person or anything. He was still the same cold and emotionless CEO. 

But as we began getting close and began our relationship as boyfriend and girlfriend, I’ve begun to notice differences that he has made since the start of our relationship. 

Victor normally isn’t one to make mistakes. I’ve learned that over time, but. The recurring issue just keeps happening the further we get into our relationship.

It started in his sleep, there were sporatatic times where I’ve woken up in the middle of the night to the sound of Victor calling out the same name of this person. 

“Mia…!” 

It sounds like a constant nightmare on loop, normally I would try to help him by waking him up from said nightmare, but even when I do, he completely shuts himself off and just avoids the topic of the dream as though it was none of my concern. 

I’ve grown used to the same responses. “It’s nothing.” “Don’t worry about it.” “I’m sorry for waking you, go back to sleep.” “It’s fine.” “It's nothing important.” and lastly, “You don’t need to know.”

I’ve let it go for the past couple weeks, however, this was beginning to get to me. My curiosity of who Mia was only grew. 

 Just who was Mia? Was it a relative? A friend? ...A past lover? I would never know. He hasn’t told me anything about who this Mia person was. 

Days go by, the nightmares get worse and worse and he still refuses to tell me about those nightmares. 

Not only has it affected his sleep but it's also gotten into our outings as well. 

There will be times where we are out together, having a lovely evening, or even just having soft and loving moments between the two of us,  he would suddenly call me by the name of ‘Mia’

Which was not my name.

At first I didn’t mind it. Usually I get called by the wrong name all the time so it was nothing I wasn’t used to. 

 But now...

It's become an everyday occurrence. 

Like today. Emci  had woken up extra early to make Victor some breakfast, something that he normally would do but she had decided to make him breakfast since he had a rough night. 

It was a lovely and peaceful morning. The sun slowly began to rise, which shone throughout the house. The smell of fresh pancakes wafted throughout the kitchen making its way throughout the whole house. 

Victor made his way to the kitchen, spotting Emci working in the kitchen, one sight that he enjoyed finding whenever she were to be the one to cook. A small smile graced his lips as he quietly made his way over to her. 

She worked on making the batter for the rest of the pancakes, humming delightfully, until she felt a pair of arms wrap around her from behind, she smiled knowing it was him. “Good Morning, Victor.” 

After a moment of silence, he placed a soft kiss to the top of her head, he replied with, “Good Morning, Mia.” 

She suddenly froze. Once again, hearing that same name that he has been calling her by for the past couple of weeks. She was tired of hearing that name and it only fueled her to suddenly ask him. 

She pulled herself out of his embrace, looking at him, a frown now adoring her features. She grew rather frustrated and paranoid. “Victor...Who is Mia?” 

He looked at her, that smile on his face immediately shifted to his neutral expression. “...It’s no-” 

“DON’T.” She started, raising her voice, she looked down, bawling her hands into fists, she continued, “Don’t tell me it’s nothing… I am tired of hearing that same exact excuse.” 

His eyes narrowed at that, “It isn’t an excuse. It’s nothing that you need to worry about.” “Oh really? Is it really not something I shouldn’t be worrying about? Because YOU haven’t been calling me by the right name in WEEKS. And to top it all off, your nightmares you’ve been having, that YOU WON’T TELL ME ABOUT, have made me worry more and more!” She finally let everything out, something she should have done many weeks ago. 

He began to grow angry from her sudden outburst, “I said. It's nothing. Just stay out of it, alright?” He dismissed it, giving her a small glare. 

Oh but she wasn’t done, she scoffed, “No. We aren’t done having this conversation. You cannot dismiss this like it doesn’t exist. Answer my question: Who. Is. Mia?!” 

He turned to walk away, trying to ignore her pestering question but she grabbed his arm. He stopped, “Let. Me. Go.” He warned, as he refused to say a word about her. 

She stood in front of him so he couldn’t leave. She glared at him, “Not until you tell me who she is! I deserve to know just who this woman you keep speaking of! She is practically all I hear coming from you!” She raised her voice. 

Victor snatched his arm from her, glaring “It's none of your business.”

“Well guess what? I’m making it my business now! After everything we have gone through in the past couple months, you are hiding something and I deserve to know!” She screamed at him. 

“When will you drop it? I don’t have to tell you every single thing about me! Just stop asking already!” He began to raise his voice, he was already getting fed up with this conversation. 

“If it is something that is affecting our relationship then you should tell me! I’m not going to stop until you tell me who she is!! So I’ll ask again… WHO IS SHE??” 

“Again, IT’S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS.” He screamed as he stormed off, leaving to get ready for work. Forgetting about the breakfast she prepared for them both. 

She did the same, leaving to chase after him. “Victor! IT IS MY BUSINESS! WHY WON’T YOU JUST TELL ME ALREADY?! WHY ARE YOU HIDING THIS FROM ME?!!”  

‘I already told you, WHY DO I HAVE TO KEEP REPEATING MYSELF?!” He yelled, both of their voices echoing throughout the whole house as they made their way to their shared bedroom. 

“Because... YOU KEEP HIDING THINGS FROM ME! WHY ARE YOU SUDDENLY ACTING SO DIFFERENT?! YOU WON’T OPEN UP TO ME, YOU ALWAYS SHUT ME DOWN WHENEVER I ASK ABOUT IT AND YOU ARE ESPECIALLY DISMISSIVE WHENEVER I ASK ABOUT MIA! WHO IS SHE? A FRIEND? A PAST LOVER? JUST WHO?!” She snapped, standing in front of him, coming face to face with him.

“I DON’T WANT TO TALK ABOUT HER, IS THAT SO HARD FOR YOU TO UNDERSTAND?!” He growled out, his anger only seeping through his words. 

“If our relationship is not going to be built on trust then I have no choice but to break up with you.” She spoke those cruel words even though it utterly shattered her heart to say. 

He gave her the coldest look that she has ever seen on his face, one that she had not expected to see on his face. He was angry and upset. And with everything that had just occurred, his words came out unfiltered.

 "That’s fine. You're not even a formidable replacement for her anyway."  His words were laced with venom. 

Those words alone, snapped her out of her rage. She stared into his cold periwinkle eyes, as tears filled in her own, her heart shattered as she took a step back. “W-what?...” She gulped and held back a sob, “I was just a r-replacement?” She couldn’t believe it. 

Victor didn’t answer, instead, he turned away and left to get ready, giving her the answer she knew. 

“F-fine.. If that’s how you feel.. Then I’ll just leave.” She screamed at him, even though he had gone to get ready for the busy work day. She had already gathered her belongings that she needed for the day ahead, leaving their once shared home. 

There was no way she was going to come back. 

---

2 weeks.

2 weeks had passed. Victor had not heard from Emci. Even though he really wished he did. She had left the house the day they had that awful argument and he had not heard from her since then. 

During the time that she had been gone, he had realized his awful mistake, how could he say that to her? WHY did he say that to her...? 

She wasn’t a replacement. He loved her. But.. not only that, he had mistaken her for Mia for the longest time. Why exactly? Well she reminded him of Mia.

Mia, the girl who he had fallen in love with.. The girl who saved him over seventeen years ago.. The girl who had sacrificed herself for the better of the world.. The girl who he killed and held in his arms as she died.

Everything around him reminded him of her and her presence, whether he’d be at work, in Souvenir, anywhere for that matter. Ever since she died, he had not thought of anything but Mia. And even then, when he met Emci, it felt as though Mia was her. 

As days and nights pass, he’d get flashbacks of times he spent with Mia and even some fond memories of her that would create an aching and longing pain in his heart. Even when he is spending time with Emci. 

It hurt to think about Mia, and it even hurt to be around Emci at times because of how much she resembled her. The constant pain in his chest never went away. 

And the nightmares, oh those nightmares… They were haunting him every single day now. It wasn’t as sporatatic as they were before. 

The day when Victor had to kill Mia, it kept replaying that scene each and every time. 

Every time it occurred, he thought, ‘I can’t erase it from my mind. I just replay it over and over again. I think about it all the time.’

Why was it so hard to get rid of this horrible memory..? How can he move forward if he still misses her and is grieving over it? 

It often left him awake sometimes throughout the night. Even when Emci had wanted to help him feel better, the pain in his chest still was there, he would just dismiss it as if it wasn’t important. 

She’d drop it and go back to sleep while he stays awake, thinking of Mia and overall it would lead him to crying. Something he hardly did but ever since she died, it had been hard to let her go.

It became a grieving memory that replayed in his head over and over again. 

But now there was a greater issue that he created. Emci. She hasn’t come back… He had tried to reach out to her, but every time he tried, her phone calls would go straight to voicemail or his messages to her would be either unread or blocked. 

Victor had left many voicemails as well. Still even with that she didn’t reply. 

Meetings for work about her reports? All of them are now sent by one of her co-workers. She has not been seen by anyone. 

What scared him more as the fact that he might have ruined everything and that she was actually gone for good. That she would not ever come back to him… He couldn’t lose her too, not after what they have been through. He had tried to keep himself calm, trying to stay optimistic about it and had reassured himself countless times. 

Like right now, he sat at his desk, his head in his hands as he let out a shaky sigh ‘She’ll come back.. I just have to give her time. I know she will come back… I just know it.’ He thought. 

With what had been happening, Victor had hardly been able to do much work in his awful condition. He hardly slept much after the argument and after Emci had practically vanished from the face of the earth to god knows where. 

Victor wanted her back. He wanted to explain everything to her, he wanted to apologize for being awful to her as well. She didn’t deserve to be treated that way, but yet she was and he didn’t know how to fix it. 

He glanced at his phone from the corner of his eye, hoping to see if she would call or text him. But just like every other day of the week, still nothing. “S-She will come back… She has to… S-She just has to come back” He spoke quietly to himself, he wouldn’t let himself think otherwise. 

 Tears welled up in his eyes, he rested his head against his desk, his arms hiding his face as he quietly sobbed. “P-Please come back… I-I’m sorry..” He whispered as he sobbed. 

“I can’t lose you too… Come Back… Please Emci…” 

[bbnibini]

PSISLY: An Obey Me!CYOA – sixty-six🔖

The lull of your everydays should have eased your mind. However, you find that monotony only addled your thoughts, making you cautious of everything: uneasy, unnerved. The only times when your heart felt calm was in the company of Satan. His protectiveness made you felt safe. His gentle inquiries, his tight embraces, his warmth next to yours could never be replicated by anyone. But…must you cling to him like this? Isn’t he tired of you? Weren’t you being paranoid? The investigations were “proceeding smoothly”, according to Lucifer’s words, but…the slightest possibility of everything failing and falling apart persisted in your thoughts. You felt that way before—it was a memory of a few months past; a suffocating cacophony in your head, refusing to be forgotten. In choosing to forgive too early, too prematurely, the wounds in your heart scarred; it was a lot better now, of course. You have started to forget when the nightmares stopped. The sight of purple eyes didn’t make you tremble in its sight anymore. You’d even like to think you were fond of him now. The breathlessness you felt, the tightness in your neck was a reality that never happened. So…why was it so vivid to you now? Again? And why was it…that in spite of it all…

…

..

..

..

…why did it feel like you’re forgetting something? 

💌 💌 💌

 [ Hurt? No. There’s no pain at all. ]

“Does it hurt? Don’t worry. This is all just a bad dream. Here. Hold my hand.”

“You’re fine now…”

[ Then…if it’s not you in pain…who was? ]

“Don’t worry, I’ll come back for you. I promise.”

[ Who was that gentle person cradling you in his arms? ]

….

[ Were you crying? ]

“Farewell my dear…we will never meet again.”

“I love you too…I…”

[ !!! ]

“…ake up!”

[ No… ]

“…I’m sorry.”

[ Don’t go… ]

“Wake up!”

Wake…up?

…you can’t breathe.

…it smells like Satan.

…Satan?

Why did he look so worried?

“It’s just a dream, kitten. It will be okay.”

It was…a dream? What was?

“You’re hugging me a little too tightly, hehe. Is something wrong?”

Oh, good. He looked a lot calmer now. But…what was he saying about some dream? And why were you sweating so much? Your eyes sting a bit too. Were you crying? You…don’t remember.

“You were having a nightmare. I tried to wake you up several times.”

“I was?”

Satan looked taken aback by your response. He loosened the hug and opted to rest your head on his chest instead, making soothing strokes on your back.

“Mhm. I’m sorry for leaving you alone for too long. I’ll stay by your side from now on.”

You shook your head. “I can’t let you do that. The festival is starting soon. Besides, I’m also part of the committee. I can—“

You felt his arms squeeze you in and only let go once you told him it was starting to hurt. “I’d like to say the same but…you deserve to decide for your own.”

“Satan?”

His voice sounded tired and worried. When was the last time he slept properly? His side of your shared bed felt emptier lately, and the bags under his eyes were starting to become noticeable. You hated how you were responsible for all of this. If only you were stronger…then maybe he wouldn’t have to—

…you heard him calling your name.

“What do you want to do, my dear? How can I accommodate you?”

“What do you mean?”

You heard him laugh bitterly as he replied. “You always tell me I’m a thoughtful and gentle demon but…if only you knew what’s going through my head right now, I’m sure you’ll start thinking otherwise.”

Satan…

You weren’t sure what time it was right now. Devildom had never been graced by the sun. However, the silence that enveloped the room seemed to suggest it was the dead of the night. The dim magical device on your bedside casted vermilion on your beloved’s face. You held his cheek and leaned your foreheads against each other, wishing he’d know you would never leave his side.

“Tell me what you’re thinking right now.”

He shook his head.

“You won’t like it.”

“Even if I won’t…it will make you feel better. I’m not going away, Satan. I’ll always be here.”

You saw the tremor in his emerald eyes, hesitating and calmed it down by a soft kiss to his lips. It lingered and filled the anxieties in your heart with his gentle warmth. Pulling away, then starting again. And again. And again. Hopeful, hopeful for something to change. To stay. To etch your existence in his bones, never to leave. Yet, he didn’t want you to wither away. The kisses he initiated were gentle and feather soft, as if you would crumble in his arms if he held you too tightly and too long. As you pulled away, the smile on your face finally brought his guard down and he started smiling again.

“I wish I can keep you for myself. To take you away from whatever ails your mind…” his voice trembled at his tight embrace, but you kept your silence and listened.

“I want to protect you, but…seeing you like this hurts. If I can just lock you up so you won’t ever leave then maybe…I can’t. I know it’s wrong.” Your silence prodded him to continue speaking.

“…I feel anger and it’s starting to cloud my mind. But I don’t know who I should direct it to. To what? And why? I…don’t want to be angry. But I feel slighted. For your sake. For everything that matters to you…

.

.

.

…is anger the only thing that defines me? Why is it that no matter what I do, I can only trace everything I feel back to it? Am I incapable of feeling anything else?”

“Satan…”

You returned his embrace tightly and kissed his forehead. “That’s not true. You’re so much more than your anger. After all…

..

..

.

.

.

.

…could a truly wrathful person ever be capable of loving someone as much as you do?”

You kissed him again and relished on his warmth, hungry for something that cannot be filled. Justice? Anger? Vindication? You didn’t know. All that you understand is that he was the way he was right now because he loved you. And you wished he’d know how you felt the same.

“I’ll be okay, Satan. You’re by my side, after all. Thank you for always thinking of me.”

The sound of your name being uttered by him in the silence of the night felt comforting, and the thought of someone worrying so much over you made you feel less alone, less weary...

“…thank you for loving me.”

…loved.

You heard him laugh lightly upon your words. The tremble in his hold stilled as if whatever was ailing him was also abated.

“…I’ll support you at whatever you want to do going forward, kitten. If I ever make you uncomfortable, restricted, suffocated over something we both couldn’t control…please tell me.” He breathed out and took in your scent. “This is…new to me. I want to do right by you. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I know,” You answered, assured.

“I’ll try to be more honest. To keep no secrets from you. I won’t shoulder everything on my own so…all I ask is…can you also do the same?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you,” He sounded genuinely relieved. “I’ll try to update you about your case as much as I could. So until then, please take care of yourself. Call my name. Our pact. I’ll be there.”

“Mhm, I promise.”

“And your nightmares ever since the meeting happened—“

“Is not your fault, or anyone’s…” You continued. “I’d rather know the truth and support you through this than being kept in the dark. You and the others did what you thought was right. And I appreciate that.”

“Even with all the nightmares?”

“Yes, I won’t break just from this. This isn’t the first time someone targeted my life after all.”

Satan frowned at your words, so you hurriedly took it back and laughed awkwardly. “I’m sorry. That joke’s in poor taste.”

“That won’t ever happen again.”

“I know. All of you are doing your best. This will all be resolved in no time. So…until then…”

“Until then?”

You kissed away the creases on his brows and smiled. “Until then, let’s be by each other’s side.”

It was such a simple and obvious statement that Satan almost forgot the comfort those words had brought him. With a weak smile returning yours, he held you again and breathed out a sigh. “Do you think you can sleep again?”

You nodded.

“Are you sure you want to go to school normally?”

You nodded again.

“Can we hold hands while we sleep?”

You laughed lightly, then nodded again, making him lie next to you in bed. “Always.”

The last sensation you remembered before your eyes drifted back to sleep was his hand threaded with yours. The nightmares you both feared never came.

💌 💌 💌

Lucifer seemed more subdued than usual. The strictness and rigidness were still there, but along with his usual self was also a pause in his words, an attentive eye that watched from the sidelines, supporting everyone in subtle actions and gestures. The incident caused a rift between some of you(namely you and Belphegor)—his bitterness was understandable; it was a misunderstanding that can only be resolved by the two of you. Still…his stubborn pride and the nosiness eldest siblings shared refused to leave the two of you alone. You noticed him looking after you with his random small talks, his excuses to see see both of you over some trivial matter he would scold you for no reason. The nightmares that persisted only soured your relationship more, yet the eldest was far from discouraged from his efforts. Instead, he persisted with his awkward way of caring, as if desperate for a resolution. You wondered if Belphegor noticed it too.

His summons today was unusual. Instead of Belphegor and some trivial mistake that the both of you inadvertently committed, there was only you and Satan. The blond demon seemed as clueless as you were once you were called in his study.

“Good morning.”

…no scolding? Rather…he seemed at peace?

“Your thoughts are as clear as day, human. I am not here to lecture you this time. Please, sit down.”

?!?!?!?

“You’re quite tense yourself, Satan. Why don’t you relax?”

Satan grimaced, refusing to sit down as a sign of petty opposition. “I am relaxed.”

“Right,” Lucifer said drily, placing folders on top of his desk. “Your perpetrator has been identified. Please be at ease.”

!!!

“This is the first time I have heard of this.” Satan said, frowning. “Was that intentional?”

“No. Rather, I told both of you the second I have confirmed it to be true. In fact, they’re currently being apprehended by Barbatos’ men as we speak.”

Now that you look at him, he was wearing the same clothes as yesterday. His red eyes hinted of sleeplessness—a lighter shade of his irises at the white of his eyes, puffy and eye-bagged and…haggard. He was telling the truth.

“Who was it?”

“A high-ranking noble opposed to Lord Diavolo’s reign. We had no means of arresting him before, so I’d say these turns of events are rather convenient.”

There were some documentations about your killer in the folders, crimes connected to his name only to surface due to your assassination attempts. The case is good as solved, and you should feel at ease by now but…

“…is this really okay?”

…why do you still feel so anxious?

“Are we…okay now?”

You heard your name being called by the two demons. Satan in particular, had been comforting. He held your hand the moment he heard the tremble in your voice. Lucifer was about to stand up from his seat, looking like he was going to do the same but stopped, realised the role he needed to play at that moment and remained in his seat. “You’re still worried this isn’t over. I understand. Which was why we had been discussing over something.” Something? He asked you to open the other folder to receive your explanation.

“Staying in the Devildom is dangerous for you right now. You still have a few more weeks remaining, but…if you wish to go back, we have arranged for your early departure.”

Satan interjected, his widened eyes in disbelief over the other contents in the folder. “Me too?”

“They can only feel at peace with you. And it seems like you share the same sentiments.” You heard the eldest clear his throat, looking away from the two of you as he spoke his next words. “…Your name stands out too much, so I have arranged a pseudonym for you while you’re disguised as a human.”

Pseudonym? You turned to the page he was indicating on your own copy and

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Pfft!

“Hey! I detest that! Can’t I have a choice in this?”

“Hahahaha!”

“Oi, oi. It wounds me to see you relishing in my pain, you know?”

But…you can’t help it! Lucifer looked so happy with the name. And and…he seemed so proud over—pfft!

“I refuse to use this!”

Well…you couldn’t blame him. The name after all seemed contradictory to what he was standing for. However, you felt particularly cheeky today so you teased him.

“But…Helel is a cute name!”

Lucifer nodded repeatedly, smiling at your approval. “It’s a fine name. It should serve you well.”

“SERVE ME WELL, MY ASS!”

“Language, Helel.” “Now, Helel dear.”

“I hate that you’re going along with this.”

“Do you think Lucifer would change it just because you asked? Besides, it’s good if you get used to it now, won’t you?” You tilted your head as you stated a fact.

Rolling his eyes, he sighed and made a face. You have a point. Lucifer is stubborn as he is. He’d rather save the mental energy he had on keeping an eye on you. “When will we leave?”

“Can you make your preparations in 3 days?”

“I suppose. We’re almost done with the committee work.” You answered.

“Good. If you have any other commitments, be sure to have them fulfilled before you leave.”

Commitments?

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!!!

“Is something wrong?” Satan looked over at you and you nodded your head reluctantly. You promised no secrets from each other, so…

“I have something to talk about with Lucifer.” Seeing him frown, you held his hand and squeezed it in reassurance. “I’ll tell you later, I promise.”

“Why not now?”

Because you knew he would be against it. You loved him a lot. You trusted him more than anything in this world but, Mammon was important to you too.

“Please?”

As if remembering your heartfelt talks the other night, he gave in as soon as he looked at your begging eyes. “Hah. All right. Can I at least know if it’s dangerous?”

You shook your head. That was enough of a reassurance for him for now. He let go of your hand and sighed, smiling defeatedly at you.

“…okay. I’ll be waiting for you at the library.”

“Thanks, Satan.”

You faced Lucifer as soon as he left. You had to be honest: you were sure Mammon was right—Lucifer had an idea of what he was dealing with right now. You were worried over that possibility, as his inaction must have another meaning. After all, despite what it seems, it was apparent that Lucifer adored Mammon and his other siblings. So even if the implications of his silence weren’t good,  for a dear friend like Mammon, you wanted to try and ask anyway.

“Lucifer?”

…you cannot read his face. He was good at keeping his secrets and his intentions from others. You surmised it was something he learned due to the burdens of his role as the eldest as well as his position in Devildom. Still—it didn’t mean that it didn’t frustrate you.

“You wanted to ask me something?”

…especially if reading you, in contrast came as easy as breathing for him.

“…Yes.”

“Then, ask away.” He tested you, scrutinising your facial reactions. “However, I’m quite curious to know how serious it is that you cannot trust the demon who is closest to you. Is it a difficult request?”

You…didn’t know how to answer. Was it difficult? You only knew that you wanted to help Mammon.

“It’s…about Mammon.”

Nothing. It felt as if he was expecting that answer from you. “Ah. What about my brother?”

Was this still a test? Does he really not know what you’re asking at all? Or was he pretending that he didn’t know?

“I gave him the bouquet and gave him permission to sell it.”

The crease on his brows and the sigh exuding from him made him feel a little more…attainable. Imperfect. Reasonable. Whatever that feeling was, it reassured you.

“You spoil him too much.”

“Am I not allowed to?”

He shook his head. “Of course, you’re entitled to your own actions. Now…may I ask your reasons?”

Your heart was beating really fast. You just hoped you wouldn’t screw this up for him. Then again, confronting Lucifer had always been difficult. “He needs to sell it to get a lot of money…

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N-not for himself! It’s for someone very important to him!”

You saw something in his eyes that looked like epiphany. Red eyes widening over something you said. So, it wasn’t omniscience. It may have been perceptiveness he had trained himself to possess over the years. Your worries earlier felt silly now.

“So you know.”

“Eh?”

Lucifer sighed and gave a weak smile. “It’s hard not to take notice of it, especially if that brother of mine is always up to no good.” That smile widened, softened, his eyes hinting of fondness. “What else am I supposed to do but support him?”

“Wait—“

Understanding your confusion, he explained for you. “I’ve known for quite a while. However, the situation is more drastic now, isn’t it?”

He sighed as he saw you nod.

“I’ll try and ask Solomon if he can negotiate with the witches. He has a more…reputable standing with those women than I do.”

Solomon?

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Ah!

“Is there anything else?” The eldest asked you and you shook your head.

“No. That’s all. It’s just…I have plenty more commitments I have to settle than I realised.”

💌 💌 💌

This has to be the longest 3 days in your life. But somehow, the desperation of not leaving anything hanging until your departure is giving you the strength to conquer each err…obstacle. You and Belphegor were getting there. It was still a rocky relationship but, your constant company and your more open approach with him is mending everything bit by bit. In fact, other than Satan and Levi, he was one of the first demons who you told about your departure.

It was difficult to approach him at first, but you supposed Lucifer’s nosy efforts to get you two to reconcile had been working. Sure, he was griping, but he wasn’t avoiding you anymore.

“He’s mad at himself.”

…was what his twin told you many days ago, but could it really be true?

The attic room was stuffier than usual. Its small space feeling vast and empty with your distance. Belphegor was frowning as he clutched his cow pillow in his chest, burying his face and muffling his complaints.

“Why did you come here?”

You closed your fists tightly and faced him. You felt him shuffling away from you until he was backed into his bed’s headrest, unable to avoid you anymore. “You’re too close.” His words were hostile, but his tone was far from it. It almost felt like he was convincing himself from something.

“Look at me, Belphie.”

His purple eyes glared at you in ironic opposition. “I can do it again from this angle, you know. Human necks are easy to snap.”

“But you wouldn’t do that.”

His eyes widened at your words.

“Why are you so confident? Aren’t you afraid of me? Of what I could do to you?”

Honesty was what he needed. Sincerity too, you surmised. Beel’s words kept on replaying in your head like a broken record, reflecting the truth—he was right. All his hostility and all his anger was not for you, but for himself. Soon enough, you couldn’t help yourself anymore and wrapped the youngest-born in your arms, letting his head rest on your neck as if the thought of everything repeating itself was irrelevant to you.

“I’m sorry, Belphie.”

You felt him breathe deeply. You continued. “It’s true. I was afraid of you before but…it’s different now. I didn’t mean to keep it a secret from you. I’m sorry.”

“…”

“I should have considered your feelings more. It’s shameful to admit it was my carelessness that caused this misunderstanding but it’s true. I…just forgot to tell you. But, it doesn’t mean I don’t trust you.”

However comforting your words did not seem to translate well to him. He clutched your shirt and choked back in his words, unconvinced. “You’re getting nightmares…”

“Which is an entirely different matter. I was afraid of that person, not you.”

“Was?”

“They got arrested now. I have no reason to be afraid anymore.”

The revelation finally made him look up at you, purple eyes awestruck.

“…I wanted you to be one of the first people to know.”

“…why?”

“Why? Mhmm…just because! I…can’t really explain it. You just popped out of my mind once Lucifer told me about it. Thinking back, it sorta doesn’t make sense, huh?”

Your smile was unfair, and so were your words, Belphie  thought.

…how could you forgive him so easily when he couldn’t even forgive himself?

You stayed in embrace for a while, letting him rest against you as you felt your breaths next to each other. You were slowly getting back to normal. This in itself was already a huge leap towards a better direction.

“I’m leaving soon.” You blurted out. “Satan is coming with me. And you’re all welcome to visit us once we’re settled! In fact…I wish all of you will. I’ll miss you.”

Belphie grimaced, the self-blame in his tone hard to miss.

“Is it…because of me?”

“Of course not!” You answered on instinct.

“Staying in Devildom is dangerous for me right now, and I’m worried about the people I left behind in the human world so…I thought this was the best course of action.”

“Your…family?”

You chuckled. “Yeah. That’s what you call people who are important to you, right? It doesn’t matter if you share the same blood or not. What matters…” you placed a hand on his chest and smiled. “…what matters is what’s right here.”

Family. Bonds. Its definition changed for you as time passed. It only solidified its meaning in your heart by coming here. For the sake of the people important to you, you must...

“…live.”

!!!

You heard your name being called by a worried Belphie.

“You spaced out for a second there.”

“Yeah…” Huh…what were you thinking about again? And…why does your chest hurt?

Belphie muttered an idiot under his breath as he placed a hand atop your head.

“Thank you for telling me first.”

Belphie let out a surprised gasp as you wrapped your arms around him and hugged him tightly. “You can come visit anytime. In fact, I insist!”

“Fine, fine. If you put it that way, I guess I have no choice.”

His laughter was a good sign that the both of you are moving forward. When you told him that, he only threw a pillow at you and called you something you haven’t heard from him for a while.

“Stupid human...”

You had to admit. You rather missed it.

💌 💌 💌

“A favour?” Simeon blinked his blue eyes at you, looking confused. “A favour for what?”

Huh?

“The one Solomon promised he would do for you?” Perhaps you worded it vaguely so you tried to elaborate. “Well…err. I ended up owing him something so now, I’m doing it for him.”

“Pff—HAHAHAHA!”

Eh? Eh? Why was Simeon laughing? Did you say something funny?

“Sorry…pfft! O-oh yes, I remember now.” He wiped the corner of his eyes and smiled widely. “If it’s THAT favour, I definitely remember.”

O…kay?

“It’s simple really.” His reactions seemed to imply otherwise, but you held back a retort. “You know that I’m busy helping Leviathan with his party now, aren’t you?”

Upon your nodding, he continued speaking. “Well, part of that help is kitchen duty.”

Ah.

“…I feel bad for Solomon now.”

Simeon’s smile never left his face. “I put him in shopping duty. All I ask is that you keep an eye on him until Luke and I are done preparing the food.”

“Is that all?”

Simeon hummed, as if considering something. “Of course you know how passionate he is with cooking. I only ask that you keep this from him. I don’t want to hurt his feelings.”

It sounds reasonable enough, but something about the situation struck to you as…odd. You just couldn’t pinpoint why.

Simeon’s terrible grasp with technology prompted you to check for the sorcerer’s location the old-fashioned way. Mammon and Levi had laughed at your face once you popped out a compass and a map from your bag, but you ignored them. Now, if they helped you instead of laughing at your face, wouldn’t that be swell? But no. You decided to leave them and venture on your shopping expedition alone.

What was…North and what was South again? Tf does a coordinate mean? Eventually, you gave up and Doogled the coordinates Simeon sent you, almost tempted to faceplant on the floor once you realised where he was trying to direct you to.

“IT WAS JUST FREAKING HELLMART!”

Lord, help you. All that Indiana Jones montage for a supermarket a walking distance away from RAD?!

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No. Deep breaths. You’re calm. This was a favour. This was for Mammon: for the poor little girl he was trying to save. You tried to will that in your head to prevent yourself from running back to Purgatory Hall and shaking the oblivious angel in frustration. Instead, your eyes scanned for a mop of silver hair amongst the crowd. Your search did not take long, as you saw him mulling over two different brands of flour in the baking aisle.

“Solomon?”

His gold and silver eyes turned to you in surprise.

“You’re shopping too?”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Sounds like this is the first time you’ve heard about this, Mister ‘Do me a Favour’?”

“!!!”

He didn’t have to look so shocked! That wasn’t the reaction you expected from him.

“Ahahaha…ah yes. I remember. Simeon can be so vague sometimes…p…y…f…r…..t…h…s”

“???”

“I said, as courtesy of our agreement, allow me to pay for you.” He showed you his shopping list and smiled. “We have quite a lot to go over, but I’ll make sure to not take too much of your time.”

“Huh?”

Solomon shrugged. “Aren’t you supposed to get ready to leave for the human world with Satan?” Noticing your confusion, he explained. “In case you have forgotten, Lucifer, Barbatos and I are working on the investigations. It’ll be a matter of time until everyone else will know.”

Oh. You were so busy that you forgot. That meeting wasn’t really…a good memory for you after all.

“It’s hard to tell everyone I’m leaving so suddenly.” You obtained a jar of dried newt in one of the shelves and placed it in the shopping trolley. “I’m almost done. It’s just…there’s so many things I have to prepare.”

Solomon was a silent listener. He didn’t speak a single word and let you talk his ear off as if he wasn’t paying attention to you. Instead, he checked every item in your list, asked if you have missed anything and went over the list again if you did. The only indication that he was listening was his occasional remarks of, “Keep talking. Why did you stop?” For someone who doesn’t seem like he wasn’t interested in conversation, he seemed to remember every little detail of what you said.  He seemed more subdued than usual. He was always smiling and laughing whenever you see him, so it was rather…strange that he wasn’t now that he was alone.

“Are you always so serious when you’re by yourself?” You decided to point it out to him. Perhaps he hadn’t noticed himself…or something. You realised you didn’t know much about him—only his surface level wise cracks and tomfoolery.

His usual expressions registered on his features at your inquiry. A devious smile curved up from his lips, and his singsong voice sounded…annoying. “You’re feeling lonely?~”

Oh, you take it back! Rolling your eyes at him, you shoved the bag of flour in his arms and pushed the trolley towards the next aisle.

“Give me the trolley, it’s heavy.”

“…”

“I’m sorry for making fun of you?”

So he was making fun of you!

His laughter felt oddly juvenile, even the way he smiled. “My offer to pay for you still stands. Feel free to dry out my funds if such forms of revenge are to your liking.”

“You’re making me sound petty.”

He raised an eyebrow at you. “Oh? If the shoe fits…”

THIS. MAN. IS. FRUSTRATING. AS. HELL. Well. What if you are?!

“Let’s buy a present for Ruri-chan then. It has to be extravagant enough to make a dent on your funds.”

He seemed to be holding back a laugh, but he complied nonetheless. “Anything else?”

Hmm…Simeon did say to stall him long enough until they’re done cooking for Levi’s party. If so…

“Why don’t we buy the presents together?”

He looked as if he expected your answer. “What great timing then. I was going to do so even if you haven’t offered.”

You were getting tired of getting annoyed at every little thing he said. He always sounded like he was either provoking you, pushing you away or being as obnoxious to you as much as possible. Was your suffering really so amusing to him? Is he a sadist or what?

You pretended not to hear his nth wise crack of the day and rolled your eyes at him instead. “So, what are you going to buy for her?”

Solomon seemed to be considering your question carefully. Even his answer came out drawling off his tongue. “Since we already have angels and demons attending the party, why don’t we make it more Biblical? Perhaps a manger themed party? I can bring myrrh.”

You frowned. “Are you serious?”

“I suppose it’s an ominous gift after all.”

So he was being serious?!

“You suppose?”

His innocent smiles made you question which screws got loose in that millenia-old head of his.

“Hmm…well, we’ll cross that bridge when we get there! Why don’t we go to that shop first once we’re done with the groceries?”

You weren’t sure if bridges were ever crossed at all, or it was you who grew cross with his gradual annoyances. Needless to say, you will never ask a favour from him ever again.

 Oh Lord in Heaven, please give me strength.

💌 💌 💌

“Shopping?”

At least your insufferable time with Solomon made you think of a way of how you and Satan can spend your final days in Devildom together.

“Mhm. There’s a lot of daily necessities you’ll need that might not be as accessible as it is in the human world. Besides…”you giggled as you sneaked a kiss on his cheek.

“I want to go on a dateeee!!!”

He laughed as he found out your true intentions.

“Message received, kitten. I am yours for the day~”

…you can definitely see the regret on his face the moment he realised what you actually meant when you said “shopping”. War flashbacks of your times with Asmodeus in Majolish became fresh again in his memories, reneging to his inevitable fate as a glorified manikin.

“This looks good on you!”

“This JUST screams, Helel: the hot human transfer student from who knows where!”

“Oh! Satan, look at that! Cat ear headbands! Let’s get a matching pair!”

His smiles were starting to look forced. “I don’t need these much clothes. Besides, aren’t we here to buy Devildom-exclusive books and items?

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You forgot, didn’t you?”

Oops. Haha.

“Hah. Well, now that you’ve had your fill, can I ask you something?”

Now you’re starting to feel bad. You immediately agreed out of guilt. “What is it?”

…

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…

“I want to do something special with you. You’re free to decline if you wish.”

 “Special?”

 Satan nodded and leaned on your ear to whisper.

 “…something really special.”

💌 💌 💌

Well. It was special all right. While you wanted the same from him, it didn’t erase the fact that the both of you were just built differently.

 Your hips ached with regrets. He showed you no mercy and littered as much of his evidences on you, giving you many, many mixed feelings. You were happy over your precious, final moments together despite your body telling otherwise. Your heart felt warm over the sweet exchanges you’ve had…your heart-to-heart talks in the wake of the night—it was something you couldn’t ever trade for the world. You relished on another side of him that you have uncovered yet again. The night you shared together felt like an officiation of sorts. Whatever vague line you weren’t ever able to cross before became clearer. Closer.

“Was I too harsh on you?” He wrapped you in his arms, the gravel on his voice a consequence of a sleepless night spent. However, tiredness did not elude him. Instead, Satan felt…happy.

“A little but…I liked it. You’re quite gentle, actually.”

“I was trying to. If I pushed you too far…”

You shook your head, burying your face on his chest, sighing in content. “Thank you for giving this to me, Satan. Thank you for being with me.”

He kissed your forehead and closed his eyes, trying not to smile too much if it made him look less of a fool as he was to you. “I love you, kitten.”

Then again, you’re as much of a lovefool as he was, if not more.

“I love you too, Satan.”

Tonight, you share embrace and sweet nothings under a moonless sky. And tomorrow, another day will come for you on a different world, but it comforted you to know that you won’t ever be alone with Satan by your side.

💌 [ Proceed to Good Ending ] 

[ MEMORIA 13 ~For Her Part 1 ~ unlocked ]

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