#from what ive been told by others now too — this person has been spoken to about this before and hasnt changed a single behaviour

[myladysapphire]

Two Halves of a whole

Aemond had always understood you in ways others could not, your bond so deep nothing could severe it. A bond so deep that they would do anything to save the other, even if it meant being trapped with the enemy.

based of this request

word count: 6,208

cw: MDI+, 18+, Smut, Angst, fluff, love conffessions, arranged marraige, cheating. (im so sorry Cregan i love you i swear), not proofread!

Aemond Targaryen x twinsister!reader (or Creaganswife!reader)

dividers by @zaldritzosrose

authors note: so sorry i haven’t updated in two weeks! ive been in such a writting slump but here is finally some work! <3

Aemond had always understood you in ways now one else had.

Born together, you had never seen the day apart. Your lessons spent together, your rooms shared until you where three and ten.

And even then that did not stop you form spending every moment together.

You were so similar, not only where you twins but it was almost as If you where the same person, two halves of a whole.

You were kind, where he was cruel.

Your were beautiful where he seemed himself ugly, no matter the words you spoke to call him otherwise.

Where he was bold, you where shy.

And where you thrived, he drowned.

But something shifted the day Aemond claimed Vaghar.

You had both been dragon less, teased for it and faced the constant bullying of your older brother and nephews.

you had spent days talking and studying dragons, and where Aemond started to loose hope, and yet you pushed him to believe he could claim a dragon.

And he did, the biggest and most fearsome dragon in the world.

And you were left behind in the process.

That night, no one told you of what had transpired until you were dragged from your bed and greeted with the bleeding face of your twin brother.

Your house divided, and your brother a changed man.

Form that day he became cruel and cunning, hellbent on being the best swordsman. the best dragon rider. Skilled and wise.

And though you where there for it all, helping him and watching. It was all from the sidelines. As if you only mattered when he was involved.

that’s what your family thought anyway.

Until you became of marital age, and your father decided a alliance with the north was necessary.

You had always thought you would marry Aemond, and yet here you where on your way to winterfell about to marry a stranger you had never met.

Your nephew Jace had talked of him often, recounting his days spent in Winterfell. And though he  sounded honourable and kind, you feared what it would be like to be apart fork Aemond, the man who was truly the other half of you.

even after years of drifting apart he was still everything to you.                                                                                                

“are you excited, aunt?” Jace asked, he and the rest of your family where all accompany your north, using the journey as a tour of Westeros.

“As one can be to be marrying a stranger I suppose” you mused, looking out of the window.

Whilst your siblings all rode their dragons around Westeros, you were forced to ride with your nephews and cousins, with dragons too small to withstand the long journeys.

“Cregan stark is a good man, I’m sure you with have a good marriage” Baela spoke, looking up from her book.

You scoffed, “so everyone has met him but me?” you mumbled to yourself, shifting uncomfortably.

“I always thought you would marry Aemond” Rhanea spoke up, she and you had strike a surprising friendship, despite her distaste for Aemond. Your common lack and want for a dragon bonding you both.

“As did I” you spoke longingly, looking up and seeing the shape of Vaghar in the distance.  

The rest of the journey was spent with minimal words spoken, and your eyes never leaving Vaghars form.

Ever since they announced your betrothal Aemond had been distant, still ever present as he was, but distant.

The day he had found out he had stormed out of his rooms and ignored you for the remainder of the day.

And though the day after he had carried out your old routine, it seemed different, strained.

Though Aemond was never a talker, he was never silent around you. If he didn’t respond with words, he responded with actions. Whether it be brushing a piece of hair behind your ear, caressing your hand, or bringing you flowers.

But since then, the casual touches or small gifts of flowers or your favourite snack or bringing you a book he thought you’d enjoy, stopped.

Conversation was strained, always ending on an awkward note, and when you had wished to confront him on it you had found he had gone to the silk of streets with Aegon.

You felt hurt, betrayed almost and yet it was you who was marrying another, leaving him behind, even if you had no choice in the fact.

And the tour had been even worse.

Your days spent in a carriage alongside people you hardly knew, with Jace and Luke the very boys who had once teased your mercilessly. The very people who had caused Aemond so much pain and even harsher words in the past years.

And yet you were forced to put on a pretty smile and put up with their chatter. Though had no quells with Rhaena, finding many conversation flows easy with her.

You felt all alone, stranded in a marriage yet to happen and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

The journey around Westeros was as long as it weas boring, full of lords trying their hardest to appease you father, spoiling you all with gifts and pretty words.

You were grateful once you started to visit the northern houses, they were honest, less kind, less welcoming and less inclined to spoil you with meaningless gifts.

It took six months, six months of travelling of Aemond being distant and eventually ignoring you altogether before you reached Winterfell. And met Cregan stark.

And though you could tell he was a good man and that there was no way to deny he wasn’t handsome, he wasn’t Aemond.

You got along well, though every smile or laugh was met with Aemond’s glare. His disapproving stare. His harsh words and even harsher steps as he followed you both through the halls.

He hadn’t said a word to you, but made sure you new his anger.

Even as he watched you walk down the aisle in the godswood and take Cregan as your lord husband.

After that day you felt perpetually lost, as if you had lost the other part of you, that you were never whole.

Perhaps it was because Aemond had left without so much as a goodbye, or that now there was no chance of you and Aemond getting what you both wanted.

Two years passed, two years in the north as Cregan’s wife, a babe born and not a single word or letter from Aemond.

You felt stranded in the north, with no dragon nor any dragon rider offering you an escape. Any letters took weeks to arrive, any news arriving long after the fact.

You heard little from anyone frankly, that’s why it was such a surprise to see your nephew Jace once more.

“Jace?” you questioned, as you walked into the great hall. He sat beside Cregan, clearly having spent the night.

You were shocked, no one had told you of his arrival.

“Aunt” he greeted in turn, his voice kind as he greeted you.

“What are you doing here?” you said, as you approached where they sat.

He looked over to Cregan, shocked you didn’t know he was here. “Your father…Viserys is dead”

“oh” you said, not feeling any emotion in particular. He had never been a father too you, always distant, treating you more like a cousin child, than his own. “did he- was it peaceful?”

“I don’t know” he said, as you finally took your seat beside him, “we had left Kings Landing before-“

“Is that why your here? My fathers death?”

Jace looked over to Cregan an awkwardly, “Aegon usurped my mother, I have been sent to remind the north of their oath.”

Aegon being king wasn’t a surprise, your mother and grandsire had been plotting for years to crown him since he was born. If anything, you were shocked that Jace seemed surprised by the betrayal, as if the court hadn’t been treating Aegon as heir for years.

“And as I told the prince, the north remembers” Cregan said looking over to you, his tone serious. “we pledge our loyalty to the queen”

“and if war comes with you plunge your sword into my brothers back, husband?”

“if it comes it it, aye”

You looked down and remained quite through the remainder of Jace’s stay, keeping to yourself, as you always did.

The harsh realisation that your husband would so easily kill your brothers hurt, even if they were traitors and usurpers.

You had never felt whole since Aemond left and you knew a part of you chipped away the longer he was gone, the longer he punished you with his silence.

And then news came, Luke was dead at the hands of Aemond. And you felt apart of you break.

The realisation that Aemond would not survive this war without erasing the entirety of Rhaenrya’s line.

You felt more stuck than ever.

Stuck with a husband plotting a war were the allegiance was split.

You had married Cregan in hope of uniting the north to the greens. But of course the loyal house stark would never wavier form their oath, even if it meant a wife forced to watch as her kin was murdered.

You hated this war, and it had yet to start.

You had been left in charge of Winterfell in your husbands absence, and you felt even more lonely without him. The one person who you had felt some stability from.

Your dreams was filled with blood and death, fear of what was to come. And yet another dream chased you. Flashes of blue flames, ice eyes and cold scales. A song sung through your mind, it had no words or melody, it was as if it were a secret language only your dreams could understand.

A storm raged on, leaving you locked inside and a feeling a dread filling your bones.

You couldn’t escape the nagging feeling, the feeling like something was very wrong.

You could scarcely see outside the window, let alone leave the keep. The snow thick and relentless, and yet you could make out a figure ever so slightly.

A dragon.

Large and far away, your mind hoped it was Aemond, though he would be a fool to travel north, especially in this storm.

And yet it seemed to pale, not nearly as monstrous or large.

It called to you, your eyes following if, unable to tear themselves away from the dragon.

Had it not been the call of your name from your maid, Lyra, you were sure you would have chased after it, its song luring you to were ever its layer sat.

“my lady” she started, her demeanour nervous

“what is it?” you questioned, finally pulling your eyes away from the creature.

“you have a visitor”

“who-“ your words were cut off as your twin strolled in, his yes firm, a hand gripping his sword “Aemond”  you breathed, your hand gripping at your chest.

“sister” he greeted.

You sent a look to lyra, sending her running, though she seemed relived at the dismal.

“my husband is not here”

“good”

“he pledged for Rhaenrya”

His gaze hardened, a smile gracing his lips “you betray your own kin”

You scoffed “me betray? You are the one who has not spoken a word to me since the day i was married, no letter no word! Even Aegon wrote me and yet you my own twin, the very man i have loved and been with since the day we were born, betrays me without a word all because I am shipped of in a marriage you very well knew I did not want! If anyone has betrayed the other it is you��

His gaze fell, his smirk falling, “you choose him-“

“by the gods! I had no say”

His eyes dropped their firm, “no…mother said you had chosen him and rejected my bid” “your bid? You bid for my hand?” you scoffed once more, “do you think that if I knew I had a choice I would have come crying, begging for your help?”

He seemed you look at you, look at you for the first time in years, his yes boring into you in a way you did not realise you missed.

Aemond had always been selifish and cruel, a man who only believed his opinion to be the truth and yet with you he was patient and kind, and though you saw a glimpse of the man others did see, you knew he was still the Aemond you had long knew.

Though the fact remained, as it stood you were on opposing sides of this war, and with no dragon and your son the heir to house stark, you were powerless to change sides.

But as he looked at you, and as you heard to coo of your son as he sat in his crib your mind went back to the day your life changed and Aemond drifted apart.

You knew the day was coming, word had been circling around court, suitors from throughout the realm had come to bid for your hand.

Though you in truth you only wanted one man, your twin Aemond.

It wasn’t wrong for you to assume that you and he would marry, it was within the custom of your house, you had always been close and he had practically been courting you for years.

With gifts an-d days spent walking the gardens, with soft words and caresses.

Though he never made his intentions clear, you were sure he was of the same mind of you.

And yet days spent whining about the men hellbent on following you, with cheesy words of love and gifts you already had too may off. It was all impersonable and endlessly repetitive. And Aemond never uttered a word. Simply nodding his head in what you hoped was silent contempt.

and yet your mother had summoned you to her chambers, a sombre expression on her face.

“daughter” she greeted, a soft smile as she reached for your hand.

The feeling of dread encompassed you, your face pale and stricken as she ushered you to sit.

“an offer has been made, one your father could not refuse” she started, her hand caressing yours, “one with house stark…lord Cregan Stark has made a bid and your father has accepted.”

You swallowed, your head dropping.

“I know your heart bid for another…but this is the way of the realm, and lord Cregan is a good man, your- Rhaenrya’s son knows him well.” She spoke the last part hesitantly.

“when?”

“we leave in a moons turn”

You nodded your head, standing quickly you nodded your head as your turn to leave, the tears already threatening to fall from your eyes.

You had ran to Aemond’s rooms, his chambers adjacent to yours.

Your eyes were filled with tears, your face red and your breaths short.

He breathed your name, coming up to hold your face in his hands.

“I am to be married” you breathed through shallow breaths.

Aemond held his breath.

“mother…mother has said I shall marry…Lord Cregan Stark” you stuttered out, and Aemond back away from you, his hand dropping as if your face was fire.

“what?” he muttered harshly, “out of all your…suitors, him?”

“I had little say…I alw-“  you cut yourself of as you saw the look on Aemond’s face.

With you Aemond had always had patience, been kind where he was usually curel, his face never harsh or firm but now…now he seemed to hold the anger of the sun as he looked at you, as if he had been betrayed, as if he was the one being made to marry a man thousands of leagues away, a man you had never met.

“please Aemond” you begged, trying to move towards him once more.

You were unsure of what you were begging for.

Whether it was to help you get out of this betrothal or to marry him instead, but Aemond scoffed and sent you a glare that would send anyone else running.

“what do you want? Hmm?” he began, stalking over to you, “to help you out of it? Or what claim a dragon so that you might escape?” he said, his tone mocking.

“what is with you!” you spoke through tears, “why are you being so cruel?”

“cruel?” he scoffed once more, “you are the one being cruel!”

“how?! I had no choice!”

“you had every choice” he seethed, “and yet you continuously turn a blind eye to the right choice!”

“what choice? you think I had any choice in this?” you scoffed, “gods! Heleana had no say, even Rhaenyra had little say in her first husband and yet you think I got to choose?” tears were falling from your eyes but for an entirely different reason, you felt betrayed, the one person you knew or had thought you could trust with all your heart had betrayed you. Had made you lose all trust, and made you feel alone.

A feeling that had followed you for moons, even the following years that were to come. As he grew more and more distant, no more gifts or walks, days spent in each other’s company and now they were spent listening to your nephew trying to sell your future husband. Your mother and planning your wedding.

You felt like you had lost Aemond In his entirety and yet here he stood before you, claiming you a traitor.

“why are you here?” you breathed, trying to forget the words he had said.

“for you” he spoke, straightening his stance as you walked towards your sons crib.

“for me? What of Rickon? Hmm?” you said, bouncing your six month of son in your arms. “he is the heir to Winterfell and his father fights for your enemies, you expect me to leave with you? To abandon my home?”

“your home?” he huffed, “last we spoke, you hated it here.”

“last we spoke was two years ago, opinions change especially in years apart”

“so what? You will stay in here in the cold, damp, baren land that is the north?”

“in favour of what?” you questioned genuinely, leaving the north would gain you nothing, instead you would lose the comforts of a husband and your son his birthright.

“you know…I always assumed we would wed” Aemond began, a small gasp left your throat, “and so you will wed me, your son will be Aegon’s heir until you and I have a son of our own”

“what…I am already married-“

“to a man I shall kill myself”

“Aemond! Gods you are mad! You speak of a life this war will never offer us!” you shook your head, “I- I cannot leave here, not for a life you cannot guarantee, especially after years of neglect over something I could not control”

“so you are a traitor”

“I pledge to no one, I care not for the throne especially if the fight is between Aegon and Rhaenyra” you spoke “I have no means to fight in this war for either side, and I do not desire to…if that is what you want…for me to leave my home for no reason other than an empty promise for a life we will never live then I must tell you to leave”

“leave?” he said bewildered, unbelieving you would send him away so quickly.

“you can stay the night or until the storm clears up, but I will here no more of this war or of your fantasy you have suddenly conjured up” A fantasy you had long desired yourself, had craved for him to desire it to. And now you were offered it, it seemed unreachable now. A war in its way, a war started by him and only one ending could grant you this fantasy, an ending to messy and deadly.

“I will go now” he spoke harshly, sending you a single glance before he took his leave.

That night the storm raged harsher, and sleep evaded you.

The storm did not stop raging once and for the first time since Driftmark you feared for your brothers life.

You stared out your window once more, trying to find the familiar shape of Vaghar, and yet you saw nothing.

Your eyes closed as you hoped, prayed that he had manged to get out of the storm.

But instead of a prayer you heard the song, the singing of that dragon once more.

Opening your eyes, you instantly found its shape, its wings flying through the sky as if the storm was nothing, its song enticing you to follow it, to find were it sat.

Grabbing your cloak and your boats you were quick to sneak from the castle, with no one questioning the steps of their lady, even less when you made a hopeful glance to where you were told Vaghar had landed. Hoping Aemond had chosen to wait out the storm.

But the typical stubborn man had left, mostly likely gotten himself stranded on some cliff.

As you left the walls of Winterfell, your sight blinded by snow, you were guided by the dragons song, a song that grew louder and louder as you went deeper into the wolfs woods.

You had been hunting here on a few occasions, never alone and always at Cregan’s side.

The trees dwarfed the sky the further you went, and yet there was a clearing amongst the trees, leaving a trail of discarded leaves and twigs, snow parted by what could only be a tail.

The trail lead to a cave, encased with snow and yet here the song stopped and the familiar smell of dragon began.

You had not know of caves in these woods, then again you had long strayed from the trail others took, and perhaps the word of a dragon had made this corner of the woods scarce.

With hesitance you entered the cave, with no sword nor light, simply will.

The cave was empty, bar what seemed to be a cliff, leading below.

Had there not been the unrelenting scent of dragon you would have turned back and yet, you climbed down, down rugged rocks only to turn and be meet with an ice cold bolt shotting from the dragons mouth.

A roar filled the room, alongside ice cold blue flame.

The dragon you had only seen from a distance lay facing you, its stare made to intimidate.

You left out a breath at the sight of her.

She was so different yet similar to the dragons you had grown up seeing.

She tilted her head, assessing you, before she nudged you.

Whether it was playfully or an attempt to get you to leave you did not now.

And yet you continued to step forward.

“lykirī” You spoke softly, walking towards the dragon hand raised, “lykirī” your hand reached forward, touching the dragon’s snout softly. She was warm and yet freezing under your palm, so different from the hot scales you were used to under the touch of your siblings dragons.

“nyke ryptan aōha vāedar” you started, softly stroking her, “īles gevie…iksā gevie”

I heard your song… it was beautiful… you are beautiful.

A soft grumbled left the dragons lips.

“iksin ziry syt nyke? aōha vāedar?” you swore she nodded her head.

Was it for me? Your song?

“gōntan ao brōzagon syt nyke?” you whispered, moving down her snout and towards her back, the place a saddle usual sat.

did you call for me?

“eman dreamt hen ao, ryptan aōha vāedar syt jēdri. se yet mirre bisa jēda īlē paktot gō ñuha pungos”

i have dreamt of you, heard your song for years...and yet all this time you were right under my nose.

The dragon shook her head softly, turning to face you as if to urge you up upon her back.

You swallowed roughly as you climbed upon her wing and then her back. she was larger than your brothers dragon Sunfyer, you would even wager larger than dreamfyer, and yet she was younger, her eyes softer and scales thinner. Her fire, or ice, however was strong, perhaps even stronger than Caraxes.

You settled upon her back, holding onto her scales, and before you could utter a word, she took flight.

“daor” you muttered, “dohaerās” you spoke, your hands gripping tightly as you urged her to serve. “Paez”

No…serve…slow

The storm still raged, you were blinded as the snow pelted your eyes, and yet your dragon seemed unfazed.

She circled the woods in what seemed to be glee.

Showing of tricks that left you praying to the gods as you gripped onto her horns for dear life.

And then you heard a roar.

An old and ancient roar.

“jikagon ūndegon” you urged.

Go see

She flew through the sky at a rapid place before the sight of Vaghar became clear, she lay stranded on the lonely hills, covered in snow and Aemond lay beside her.

“elēnās” you commanded, urging our dragon to bank.

Jumping of her back you rushed towards Aemond, his body cold and shivering.

“Aemond…gods” you whispered, “I told you to stay the night!” you near screamed, trying to urge him awake, and yet he seemed unresponsive to your words.

“Vaghar jikagon, jurnegon syt shelter” you screamed, as you made moves to drag Aemond towards your dragon.

Vaghar go, search for shelter

The old dragon seemed to rumble at your words her gaze following you as you near threw Aemond body on top of the dragon, a dragon you decided very well needed a name.

You were scared to take flight once more, with nothing but your arms to hold onto the dragon and Aemond.

“gods” you muttered, your eyes blinded once more by snow. “sagon qucik se gīda” you commanded, pulling Aemond to your chest and below the winter coat you wore, your hands gripping your dragon, as you commanded her onwards.

Be quick and calm

The flight to Winterfell seemed short, though worry racked through you as Aemond’s breaths grew shorter.

You landed rather ungracefully in the godswood, a landing that seemed to awake the whole castle as you were greeted with the entirety of your staff, your maid, Lyra rushing towards you a blanket in hand.

“my lady” she muttered rushing towards you, only to gasp at the sight of Aemond as you struggle to carry him.

“Gunther, Torren” you shouted for your guards, to help you carry Aemond, “send for the maester my brother is in need of aid.

“my lady is that your dragon?” Lyra asked, nervously as your dragon seemed to send menacing glares to your staff.

“yes” you nodded, catching your breath from your seemingly heavy brother.

“what is its name?” she asked stepping behind your form nervously.

“Stormfyer” you decided, and she herself seemed to like it as she eagerly nudged you, pushing you back ever so slightly.

That night the maester cared for Aemond, his body slowly recovering.

Though whispered moved swiftly of your brothers presence, and his lack of dragon.

A week passed before Aemond woke.

His voice scratchy and body weak, his head confused. Even more so when he saw your face.

You stood with broth and bread in your hand, a soft nervous smile on your face as you faced him.

His eyes were angry, but his face seemed to relax ever so slightly at your face.

“am I a prisoner?” he asked, as you placed the tray on his lap.

“if you talk a single word of war then yes” you joked, though the words soured soon after they were spoken.

“how did you find me?”

You smiled at his words, “there is a dragon in the north, she sang to me and I answered her call and in doing so I found you, your body beside Vaghars…. I rescued you, near a week ago”

“a dragon?” he spoke “you have dragon now?”

You nodded, “Stormfyer, I named her…she is near the size of dreamfyer I believe, though closer in age to Vermax” you spoke with a smile.

“I am…happy for you sister”

“I won’t reconsider… before you say anything”

“I know…I realised as such as I lay here dreaming”

“dreaming…of what?”

“of you” he spoke instantly, his hand gripping yours, “I meant what is said, all I have ever wanted was you by my side, as my wife and my queen” “I do not wish to be queen”

“then we shall be farmer and wife…in Essos or I shall shave my head and take the name snow and be your faithful sworn sword here in the north”

“Cregan will kill you second he sees you”

“then we leave”

“what if my son?” you argued, “he is the heir to Winterfell, it is his birthright”

“as is Aegon’s as king” Aemond snapped.

“and yet a war rages for Rhaenyra as queen, a queen the north supports and you lie as the enemy within.”

“then will you kill me sister?”

“never” you whispered, gripping his hand tightly, “you are the other half of me, I found you dying on the hills for a reason, I have felt your pain and joy for years…I will not betray you” “you staying here does…it hurts me, makes me ache for you”

You took a deep breath, moving the tray of Aemond’s lap, and yourself towards him.

You took his face in your heads, your forehead lent against his.

“I ache for you…everyday of my life I have ached for you” you breathed “I waited, I waited for you to feel he same for you to tell me you wished to have me as your wife and yet that day never came until a week past…after I am married and made a mother” your eyes swelled with tears, “if the gods wished us together they would have made it easier for us Aemond…they never would have put us on opposing side of a war…or me with a husband i-“ you were cut off with Aemond’s lips on yours.

His mouth merged with yours, moving in tandem with the others, years of love and desire melting into one as his mouth kissed yours, his hands gripping your sides as he pulled you onto his lap.

Your hands reaching for his hair, tugging him closer to you.

Soft moans left your moth as his tongue danced with yours.

Your dress loosened by his wandering hands.

Your hips moving slowly against this, his length hardening against your thigh as you cunt became sickened with your wet heat.

“Aemond” you moaned breaking away from him. “I am married”

“and I do not care” he smoke, removing his shirt and they your dress. Leaving you both bare.

Your eyes were roaming and quick.

As if nervous to see another man naked, and yet Aemond had long been the only man you ever desired.

You should be filled with guilt, with the thought of your husband and yet, no guilt chased you as you removed the covers and revealed Aemond’s cock.

You swallowed at he sight of him.

You moved forward placing a quick kiss to his lips, hovering over his cock, before lunging down.

The feeling of your walls wrapping around his cock made you both moan, your breaths heavy as you adjusted to the size of him.

Your head reasted on his shoulder, his hands gripping your waists as you began to lift your self of his cock, only to push them down once more.

You set a slow pace as you rode him, moving your hips in slow circular motions.

Aemond placed soft kisses to your neck, urging you to look at him.

He moaned your name, his hands caressing your sides, before settling once more on your hips.

Gripping your waist, he began to move you up and down on his cock, his pace fast and full of pleasure.

Your peak came fast, your moans covered by your hands as you rode his cock.

Your walls clenching around his cock, causing Aemond’s own peak to wash over him, his seed filling you as you lay breathless above him.

“Aemond” you breathed, kissing his chest lightly as he held you to him.

“I have wanted to do that forever” he whispered, kissing your head.

You wanted to say so may things and yet you couldn’t.

You felt joy at having Aemond finally, at your emotions being laid bare before him.

And yet a sadness watched over you as if this was a goodbye.

And seeing as shouts were heard, the sound of hooves and a rapid knock upon the door, you realised it was.

He gripped your hand, “stay” he urged.

“it is my husband” you whispered, gathering your clothes in a rush., “he can never know…you must leave!”

“leave? How when our husband and his men circle the courtyard”

“i- i- don’t..” you mumbled in a panic as your redressed, “this never happened Aemond, you must bend plea for something…I don’t know say you pledge for Rhaenyra”

“he will never believe it…and why would I come here if I did”

The knocking sounded once more…look asleep and sickly… I will come back” your promised rushing out the doors and to greet your husband.

“Husband” you greeted, a breathless smile on your face, “you are back?”

“only for a time, I’m afraid” he said, sad smile on his face as he gave you a kiss in greeting.

He turned serious as he faced you, his voice a whisper as he spoke, “your brother…Aemond” he began, “he is here?”

You swallowed, “yes…but please I beg don’t kill him” you said tears filling your eyes, “he can be our prisoner…I sent his dragon away he has no means of leaving” you begged.

He looked at you hesitantly, before urging you to talk inside.

“he is a kin slayer” he spoke outright, “he should be killed…executed”

“I know…but he is a valuable prisoner.” He looked at you the, with the same look he gave you the first few months of your marriage. When you felt alone and needed Aemond like you need air to breath.

“do you still love him?” he spoke after a moment, “and do not deny that you ever did…I know of the whispers and I know you saved his life days ago”

“you are my husband…the father of my son…I have cared for you and even started to love you-“

“but do you love him?”

You stared at him your eyes begging for what, you did not know “what does it matter” you sighed in mock defeat.

Cregan kissed his teeth, “queen Rhaenyra has taken Kingslanding, Aegon is missing, and Aemond now a hostage of the north and you...” he stopped himself unsure of what to make of you, “you are my wife and the lady of the north, a kingdom pledged to the queen”

“so what? Am I too a prisoner until you can test my loyalty?”

“do I need to test your loyalty?”

You had no reply as you stormed out of his solar, and to your own rooms.

You realised you had no choice in what was to come, Aemond would die and no prayers would save him from what his fate was set to be.

Sighing you faced the room you had made a home, now it seemed empty.

The crib lay empty, your son in the nursery.

Your bed made and fire well kept.

Your thing scattered, with clothes left tidy in their dresser, blanket slung over chairs, books left stacked.  

You sighed, your head falling in your hands as you began to pace your room.

Then the realisation hit, the need to flea and run

Grabbing a bag you packed everything you could, clothes and books, hairbrushes and toys for your son.

A cloak slung over your shoulder, the bag well hidden as you made way to the nursery.

Smiling as you greeted him, his smiles lighting the room as you took him into your arms and made way to where Aemond was kept.

He lay in his bed, the food you had brought now eaten, a book lay in his hand.

“Aemond” you breathed, closing the door behind you. “we must leave” you said as you chucked some of the clothes Cregan kept in your chamber towards him.

Fleeing proved easier than you had thought. With feasts and revelry at your husbands return it was easy to sneak through the keep and towards the godswood.

Vhagar had made her way there only days ago, and though Aemond was still weak from the cold, he seemed to lighten up at the sight of her.

“where are we going?” he breathed as you tossed Aemond the bag you had packed.

“to lys” you began, “we cannot stay in Westeros and with the triarchy as your ally I am sure we would be safer there than here.”

After that day no one knows what happened to the Targaryen twins, many assumed Aemond had kidnapped you in act of revenge for your supposed loyalty to Rhaenrya and your betrayal against him. When in truth the escape had been your plan, and whilst you had lived in lys, myr and Tyrosh, moving from place to place for the first five years in fear of assassins, you later found a home where you thrive away from the war Aemond had began.

taglist

@justbelljust @violet-potter @amanda08319 @marsmallow433 @Youknownothingjohnwatson @feyresqueen @seamaiden @Aaliyah @spacexdrago @12thatsanumber @alexxavicry

@apollonshootafar @flrboyd @theanxietyqueen17 @dark-night-sky-99 @zillahvathek @leavesmealobe e @winter-soldier-101 @bunbunbl0gs @ka1afbr @tesha-i-guess @aemondwhoresworld @littlebirdgot @eddieslut69 @beebeechaos @jennifer0305 @rosedurin @berightback1409 @barnes70stark @perla434 @nessjo @helo1281917 @ateliefloresdaprimavera @random-human02 @f1wh0recom @arieltwvdtohamflash @valiendokk @delaynew @haydee5010 @clobobo @aegonswife @scorpiosmalfoy @sithapprentice @probablyreadingsmutlol @bitchystuffs @livelaughlovetigers @Pamela

to be added to taglist

[a-little-bit-of-everybody]

a/n: Okay so ive been writing this thing, it has NOTHING TO DO WITH TLOU but i just want some advice or somth??? idk , any feedback is welcomed good or bad 🩷

tw: none rlly? SLIGHT IMPLIED death/ su!c!d3 of scientists, themes of hopelessness/ depression (if u see any others lmk xx), bad writing lmao, the world ending if u squint rlly hard and turn your head at a 90 degree angle clockwise 🩷🩷

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"So destroy the city. Burn it to the ground. Maybe Ill get some peace when the worlds crumbling around me."

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1

She was fixated. Fixated on fixing things. Fixing people. Watching the crumbled shell of a person come back to life, with nothing more than a few sweet words and her entire being. She'd see a broken person and would itch to help them heal, until they grew beyond her, like they always did. Until she broke, and they didnt want to waste the time, the enegry on helping her be fixed. They did not want to murmer sweet words to her, to watch that shell grow. Who would, when Itd cause such a burden on the other. So, she never fully healed. How could she, really? Healing requires the tender hands to bandage your wounds, words of affermation and acceptance and love that only come from a healed person. But she found herself void of them, having used them on the poor souls she'd tended to in the past. She knew Hurt People hurt people. She knew her wounds would bleed on those who did not cause them. She'd pry her eyes open in the morning to stare outside at the barren landscape, the emptyness reflecting her soul back at her. The world had been dying for quite some years now, and so has she. Sheremebered when she was 16 and the signs of a ruined world began to set in. The farms became infertile, not taking to any seeds, no fertilisation could help them, no amount of soft spoken praises could bring them back. The seas became all too poluted for anyone to even set foot on a beach. The former white sands replaced with white plastic, the sea a wave of rubbish waiting to consume us, the oceans lungs full of smoke from a cigerette. She saw how the sun hung in the sky. It was there, but seemingly more distant, as if it looked down on us in pity. Pitying what we've forced ourselves to become. Even the sun, somthing so bright, dreaded getting too close to this world- maybe it was contagious. Scientists promised hope and redemtion and a future of a new life on mars. We could thrive, they said, Live for many more years to come, this could not be the end of our dominating species. This was not our extintion event. Karma could not, surely, be the death of us..? They promised we could thrive on another planet, abandoning our mother to the fate we'd caused. But, still, 8 years later, all humans would wake up to this destroyed planet, this desolate existance. Soon after the sea began to rise rapidly, swallowing the lands with a purpouse to renew, Scientists gave up on painting a life on mars, the lies washing the canvas clean, tainting it a sickly yellow. They told us all the facts. The earth was angry. We were doomed. No god could save us now and no amount of praying would cease the terror about to insue. No other planet held any future for us. The thing is, you dont realise what you have until you loose it all. Until its snatched away from your desperate hands and your promised its never ever coming back. Scientists lost faith, so it seemed, what they knew was a burden too heavy to bear as they all left the public eye. Their fates unkown tradegys for the earths revenge. No one bothered to check their houses, letting them rest in peice, after all, who would know of their existence soon? When all was gone? But despite the dire times, the govermnent held onto society- claiming to fix it, but breaking it more. Soon, they also left. None could cope with the responsibility, none could pretend everything was normal, no regimes or rescues could bring hope to even the most hopeful.There was no saving us. Why save the damned when you know they'll crawl back down to hell to spite you?

[quizzyisdone]

The Color Red (Part I) | Jason Hudson x Fem! Bell x Russell Adler

Chapter Title: The Divine Zero Word Count: 2.4k Pairing - Jason Hudson x Fem! Bell x Russell Adler Synopsis: When Russell Adler finds an agent of his sworn enemy, shot by one of her own, he brings her in, hoping to interrogate her for a lead to Perseus. When conventional interrogation falls short, Adler, blinded by his hatred to Perseus, resorts to other, more unsavory methods. Jason Hudson, his handler, can only watch from afar in horror as a potentially innocent woman has her entire life and identity erased in the blink of an eye. Told from Hudson's perspective. Warnings: Strong language, mentions of brainwashing, torture, canon-typical violence, dark romance, toxic relationships, love triangles

**Title inspired by "The Divine Zero" by Pierce the Veil

Masterlist

Maybe I could swim into your thoughts like your drugs do

Paralyze your body

Sick and tired of waking up to

Burning eyes and cigarettes

“1969, Camp Haskins. We met when you were assigned to MACV-SOG. You and I were embedded within the 3rd Marine Regiment near Da Nang. SOG was there to sniff out Soviet activity. Word had it Russian operatives were active in the region-” Adler began his usual spiel that he’d been citing for the last two days word for word.

He was speaking to the girl that was gagged and strapped into an interrogation chair, graphic videos from the war playing on three televisions all within her field of vision. Specially made liquidized LSD connected into her IV that injected it straight into her veins. All she could see was the war. All she could hear was the war. Perfect for Adler. Not only could he break her indelible will, but he could make her feel as he felt for years. Broken and destroyed.

She was sobbing, looking absolutely panicked, and Hudson couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt deep in his gut. She was probably a Red anyways, but this seemed… excessive. It had too closely echoed what he witnessed Mason go through years and years ago. Adler called it conditioning, but that was just a nicer sounding synonym for what it was -- brainwashing. But he was in no position to stop it now, Adler had made damn sure of that.

She was young, not quite “fresh out of her teens” young, early to mid twenties if he had to guess, but certainly younger than the two aged men sitting across from her behind the one sided glass. A decently pretty face, even after enduring a week straight of the CIA’s classic, finest interrogation methods, but otherwise unremarkable -- which was what made her oh-so remarkable to Adler. Given Adler's hot and cold personality, and the fact that she was here with an uncanny connection to his worst enemy and wasn’t hard on the eyes to boot, Hudson knew the man was borderline obsessed with the woman. He would have been surprised if Adler wasn’t attracted to her in his own twisted, fucked up way.

He always tended towards toxic extremes, anyways.

She was painfully, moderately above average by all standards. The most exotic thing about her was her muted accent and ginger locks. He couldn’t quite guess the origin of the accent (Eastern Europe, spoken with a twinge of British slang?), but she spoke English with the fluency of a native. A cute, well structured but round face framed with wavy, somewhat frizzy hair, tanned skin dotted with freckles, and a nose that once had been broken, judging by slight mishapenness of it, and hooked upwards at the end. 

Her face bore the marks of Adler’s interrogations, with one particularly large jet black bruise around her chestnut eyes. The most puzzling thing about her however was her singular, tiny tattoo of a bell on her arm that was inked right beneath the crease where the forearm meets the upper arm. Other than that, her body was devoid of any alterations such as piercings or other, bigger tattoos. 

That’s what the two had used for her namesake; Bell. The name she gave them couldn’t be trusted, given her circumstances of capture. The woman hadn’t given them anything else, a simple first name of Eleanor (she had omitted her surname) and the name of a man in MI6 who had long since been dead according to the records the agency was willing to give up to another foreign intelligence agency, which to no one’s surprise, wasn’t much.

“We had a job to do…” Adler trailed off, and snapped his fingers. The woman instantly fell asleep. 

“Alright, that should do it for today. Keep the tapes playing and turn the volume up a bit louder, she’ll need to hear it in order to feel like she’s there.” A British woman’s voice had piped up from the background. Helen Park.

Hudson didn’t dare face her, he was never one for psychological warfare in the first place and here he was in the presence of the expert in it. From what he understood, Agent Park helped “blossom” this MK-Ultra project from its infancy back in the 60’s to the powerhouse of a weapon it was now, twenty years later. He took a sip from his coffee.

“You’re awfully quiet, Hudson.” She pointed out. 

“He’s always quietly brooding, That’s sort of his thing.” Adler chuckled as he turned his chair to face her, reaching into his pocket for his lighter and pack of cigarettes. “Want a light?” He asked, a cigarette between his teeth as he held another one out to Hudson. 

Hudson nodded, grabbing his zippo lighter from his pocket and taking a long drag. 

“So, tell me about this team you’re putting together. I’ve taken the liberty of reviewing some of the candidates you submitted but I’d like to hear some of your reasoning, maybe offer some suggestions.” Park said, leaning against the file cabinet. Hudson scoffed.

“I don’t need your suggestions, Agent Park. MI6 is already way too entangled as is. ” He said with a cigarette in between his teeth. “You’re only here at Adler’s insistence. If the man didn’t have such a tight hold on Command’s balls, you wouldn’t be here.”

“You wound me Hudson.” She rolled her eyes. “I know you don’t like this as much as the next person, but given her stubbornness and the situation at hand, it’s the only way.” Park reasoned, Adler nodded coolly but glanced down for naught but a second, rubbing at his temples. 

“Bullshit, but anyways,” Hudson took another drag. “What did you want to know?”

“Alex Mason and Frank Woods are certainly a peculiar choice for our team, given the circumstances of our friend in the chair.”

“Hate to break it to you, but any high stakes, top secret mission with Hudson, they’ve got to be on it.” Adler gave a light chuckle, light jabbing at Hudson’s shoulder.

“They’re good soldiers and they know how to shut their mouths. As brass as they can be, they’re great agents when they’re together.” He took another drag of his cigarette, Park opened her mouth to object but he cut her off quickly. ”And I don’t intend to tell either of them about Bell’s situation if that’s what you’re concerned about.” Hudson said sternly.

“The conditioning is only one of my concerns, among plenty others. They are charming, loyal to a fault, and easy to get along with. I’d imagine they’d be quick friends with Bell. That creates a problem when we must depose her, no?”

“But somehow that’s not a problem with Azoulay. Is he not charming and friendly, especially to women such as yourself and Bell?” He retorted.

“The big guy?” Adler chimed in, a slight smirk appeared across his features. “He’s not as emotionally volatile as Mason and Woods. He’d understand.”

“Fine. Regarding Mason and Woods, we’ll just have to make it convincing enough to take the blame off of you. They’ve been in the field long enough and seen plenty of people die, they’ll get over it even if they do befriend her.” Hudson began. “They’re tough bastards. Everyone on the team has been contacted, so it’s too late to change.” Hudson snuffed his cigarette on his boot, tossing it into the ashtray.

“I think Bell here has gone through enough today.” He muttered to himself.

“Pardon?” Park raised an eyebrow.

“I think Bell has gone through plenty today.” Hudson repeated, louder, ignoring protests from Park and Adler.

In an act of kindness atypical of a man such as Hudson, he rose from his uncomfortable, government issued swivel chair, striding towards the door leading into the room the girl was in. He turned off the television with the flashing images of Vietnam, removed her gag, and loosened her restraints.

Hudson snapped near her ear, and she was awake. He glanced at her eyes, noting how terrified they appeared. 

“Can you walk?” He spoke gruffly. The girl nodded, unsure and slow. Gingerly, she gripped at the arm rests, using it to leverage herself up. This was the most silence he’d ever heard from her, normally she always had some profanity to spew at whoever woke her up from the sessions. This was a degree of success Hudson did not expect, and secretly cursed.

Slowly and a bit unsteadily, she began to walk towards the door leading to the hallway where she knew by now she’d find her cell. Hudson placed a hand on his holster and the other ghosting at the small of her back -- not quite touching, but she most definitely knew it was there. 

Her walk was rather sedate, more akin to the undead than a real person, and the need for handcuffs just days ago was no longer there. Adler had broken her enough to where she just wouldn’t fight back anymore. 

“Get some rest.” He muttered when they reached her cell.

“Like you give a shit.” She said, with equal parts venom and pronounced exhaustion. Her voice was low, raspy, laced with an accent Adler himself admitted to finding rather exotic.

Hudson ignored her provocation. “Someone will bring you something to eat later.”

“Tell them to bring a cigarette.” She hoarsely laughed to herself as Hudson closed the door behind him, lightly chuckling to himself. She had been begging for a cigarette ever since Adler took her into custody, and once or twice she’d been indulged when she promised information in exchange for a light. At least there’s one glue that will hold this rag-tag team together; a crippling nicotine addiction. 

But even that was something Adler was trying to take from her. “It’s bad for her, we’re doing our little Bell a favor on this one.” He laughed when Hudson had questioned him about it, even as he hypocritically took a drag of his fifth one in the past three hours. Scarcely could Adler be seen without one in his hand, especially so since Trabzon, since Perseus came back into play.

Hudson went back into the room behind the two-sided glass, finding it now deserted. The pair must’ve called it quits for the day. Funny, he did not expect Adler to actually respect his authority in this situation, maybe he was just as tired as everyone else was. 

Hudson found it amusing once upon a time -- Adler’s almost absolute disregard for command when it did not suit the mission, maybe even virtuous at some moments, but now Hudson could not stand his impudence. People have been hurt, not saved this time around. 

Adler’s cruel desperation was evident in the way he treated Bell. He had not always been so unkind in the thirteen years Hudson had known him, so casually malicious as he was with only Bell. He has such a dark twisted obsession with the woman, he electrocutes her and calls her pretty all in the same breath. 

He had been a decent friend of Hudson for years, until a few weeks ago, a great respect remained unspoken between them but omnipresent in their friendship. Now, that rather optimistic viewpoint that was so rare for Hudson to behold of someone, had dwindled. Does he not remember Mason and the numbers, the macabre stories of what happened to him and what happened to others because of him? Or was he simply too blinded by Perseus to see? Or did he simply just not care?

The latter, even through Hudson’s now tainted lens of the man, seemed unlikely. Adler was not an uncaring, needlessly cruel man. Gruff and rough around the edges, most certainly, but never unnecessarily brutal like his actions towards Bell may suggest. One moment, the man was a stranger to Hudson, the next, an old friend. 

“What’s got you so lost in thought?” Adler clapped a hand on Hudson’s shoulder, startling the man. Speak of the devil.

“Mm.” He grunted. “Nothing.”

“Hm, so you just stare into nothing in your free time?” Adler said coolly. “I bet it's your wife?”

Hudson rolled his eyes, irritated at the scarred man before him, completely oblivious to even what was bothering him. The situation with Jacqueline had stopped badgering at his heart, eating him from the inside out long ago, Adler knew that well. 

“Sure.” 

“Just sign the damn divorce papers then.” Adler said, lighting yet again, another damn cigarette.

“You’re a fucking idiot.” He rubbed at his forehead, pulling the cigarette from Adler’s mouth and unceremoniously snuffing it in the ashtray. 

“What the fuck?” He spat, the indignancy becoming apparent in his tone. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Hudson snarled, rising from the chair he was previously slumped in. “Do you not see what you’re doing?”

“What? Bell?” Adler recollected himself, his infuriatingly cool demeanor once again washing over him as his mouth settled into a signature frown. “Why are you even mad about that?”

“Do you not remember Mason? Do you not remember that load of horseshit twenty years ago?” He glared daggers at Adler, and for a brief moment, there was silence ringing off the walls of the cinderblock room. Adler suddenly took a keen interest in his feet as Hudson awaited his answer.

“Mason was different.” He looked up again, his sunglasses making it almost impossible for Hudson to read his expression. “She’s a bad guy, he’s a good guy. He didn’t deserve it, she probably does.”

“Probably.” He scoffed. “You don’t even know anything about her. All you know was that some man associated with Perseus shot her.”

“I don’t have time to wait for a confession after months of interrogation or chase MI6 ghosts. You know what happens when Perseus comes into play. Nukes, noxious gasses, WMD's, that kind of shit.” Adler defended. “If she truly knows anything about Perseus, we owe it to everyone in the goddamn world to do whatever we can.”

“Oh spare me the soapbox.” Hudson laughed. “You tried conventional interrogation for one day and then immediately went for MK Ultra. You barely even tried the MI6 lead.” Hudson sighed, shocked at his own moral disgust. Perhaps Jacqueline was wrong -- he did have a heart. “We don’t even know if this is the right tree to be barking at, and if this isn’t, then the consequences are on your head. Not mine.”

“Go ahead, let it all fall on me if it goes south-”

“When it goes south.” Hudson interrupted,  glancing over, and silence ensued for a moment before he continued.

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take if it means a shot at Perseus.” Adler took the previously snuffed cigarette that Hudson had snatched from his mouth, relighting it. “You had the power to stop this, y’know. This isn’t all my fault.”

He was right.

[smokahuntis]

All My Love

Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x reader

Warning: Smut! Desperation, needy hoes. Light choking, riding. Wacky missionary 😉 hint of vader.. this is the longest thing ive ever posted

word count: 3.3k    

summary: Anakin has been sneaking around with you for a while. However, you've been on a mission for years. Both of you barely having the time to speak. The distance between you has created a huge rift. Neither of you see each other as your partner. As you return, it brings back all those memories from before.

Song for this fix! Because I almost forgot!

All my love - Noah Kahan

How have things been? Well now that you mention it...

Six long years of war. Three of those years were spent away from Anakin. Separated from each other, you’ve barely spoken a word to each other. Over that time, you barely knew if the other was alive. No one told you and you couldn't ask. If you asked, they'd know about your relationship and if they knew, you would be forced to call it quits. You weren't ready for that. You were still clinging to that one percent that he was still waiting for you and that he was still yours.  

Anakin was praying for the day you came home. He watched you through the force and dreamt of you each night. He clung to that one percent that you would come back, and nothing would have changed. He needed you, and you needed him just as desperately. Both of you were worried that the reason you were separated was because Obi-Wan knew about the circumstances of your relationship. Of course, he knew that you were more than just partners. But how much did he know?

My folks still talk; they speak in these two-word sentences.  

The trip back to Coruscant was grueling and took forever. Even as difficult as the journey was, you were glad to finally make your return. You were going to see him. Neither of you were the same person as you were all those years ago. But the sheer anticipation of seeing each other again is what kept you going.

"I'm surprised you aren't already at the landing bay," Ashoka said leaning against Anakin's door.  

He turned and looked at her with furrowed brows and confusion.  

"Why would I be in the landing bay?" he asked looking down at her.  

I'm saying too much, but you know how it gets out here.

"Your little friend is coming back; she should be landing any minute," she stated and watched as his face changed. He needed to hear her name, to know his thoughts were true.  

"General [y/l/n]," Ahsoka said softly.

He was basically running to the landing bay, his heart racing, a nervous sweat making his palms clammy. He'd been waiting too long for this; he'd waited for what felt like forever for this moment. He needed their connection to be as strong as what he felt through the force.

No winter coat to keep out the cold of your atmosphere.

Soon, her ship came into the bay. Landing gently on the ground with a hiss of air. [Y/N] got up excitedly, she waited forever for this moment. However, she was still a Jedi and still had a duty to uphold the Code and had to maintain herself. Calmly, she stepped off the ship with her droids and clones, who were her best friends over these years. She held her chin high and maintained her focus; her eyes secretly scanning the crowd for that dumb blonde.

We once sang retrograde, we shake the frame of your car

Anakin pushed to the front of the greeting party, needing to see her as soon as he could. He had to see her. They made eye contact at the same time. It didn’t hit them till then how much it would hurt to finally see each other. It was a crushing feeling in her chest.  

Every moment they were in each other's arms, it hit them both at once. And now, every second it's taking them to reach one another felt like a century added on to the years they’ve already endured. She couldn’t hold back any longer, she needed him. She needed to feel him in her hands, his skin, his hair. She needed it all.

Now I know your name but not who you are

Anakin couldn’t do it, the moment felt like it was passing in slow motion. He felt frozen in time. He felt stuck. Ashoka shoved him forward towards [Y/N] and shook her head to get him out of that haze. That was all the permission he needed. Within seconds he was wrapping his arms around her.  

His arms felt like heaven, and everything felt okay for just that second. Like the war didn’t happen, and she wasn’t looking for him in her dreams. He was here, he was in her grasp.

It’s all okay, there ain’t a drop of bad blood  

She looked up at him with a heartbreaking look in her eyes. But the biggest smile was on her face. Seeing her smile made him happy, and he knew she was okay. He knew she was still his. They were together again, and he was content.

Her hands were shaking as they moved towards his face. Gently grasping the side of it as she held onto him. She needed to know he was there. She needed to feel his skin. Not the clunkiness of the armor.  

It's all my love, you got all my love

“[Y/N] …," he whispered and looked at her, his hands wondering up her back slowly. She still wore robes, not armor, and she always hated the weight of the armor. Right now, it was a blessing to feel her warmth under his hands. He needed it, and he was desperate for it.  

“Don’t,” she started in a shaky tone “don't say it like that, don’t say it like you're about to cry Ani,” she whispered and ran her thumb over the scar by his eyebrow.  

If you need my dear, I'm still the same as I was.  

“General,” Obi-Wan cleared his throat, pulling them away from each other.

Ruining the moment. Reminding them that they have duties and pulling them back to reality.  

“Yes, I must see the council, I know,” she said softly and fixed her robes.  

She let out a soft sigh and gave Anakin a sad look as she stepped away with Obi-Wan. She didn’t want to leave him behind, but she knew the trouble that would follow if he did. Luckily Obi-Wan had lightened up over the years. Thankfully, he was understanding.  

Write me a list of how it was, how it is, and how it has to be.

The council meeting about what had happened on the planet she was meant to be guarding felt like it took ages. She was exhausted from her long travel. And being home after all this time was the biggest relief, and she was glad that she could get a good rest. Even if it was just for one night. She could rest.

Anakin had other plans; there would be no resting. He couldn’t wait, he was desperate. He was needy, he was...starved. Deprived of his one true pleasure for so long. She may not be the same person mentally, but he knew her body like he knew his lightsaber.  

You burrowed in, under my skin, what'd I’d give to have you out for me.

She quickly made her way into her old chambers. It was surprisingly clean, with no dust. Candles lit the room. Her fireplace was going. Someone had been staying in there, and she had an idea of who it was.  

“Anakin,” she called softly before he wrapped his arms around her from behind.  

She let out a sigh of relief as she leaned back into him. His warmth covering her body in goosebumps.

“I lived in here as long as I could... as long as your scent lingered in the sheets I was here,” he whispered in her ear.

“And when it was gone?” she hummed softly as she walked with his arms around towards her bed.  

“Went through your robes, slept with them. Exchanged your belts for mine,” he admitted and left soft kisses on her neck.  

Leaving the goose bumps litter her skin once more. A soft moan escaping her lips. Pleasing him in every way.

I still recall how the leather of your car feels.

She hummed and turned around in his arm and smiled softly, her hand finding its way to push his hair back. She took a good look at his face and moved her thumb over his bottom lip.  

“I barely got to say goodbye to you...,” she admitted.  

“I know a way you can make it up to me,” he whispered softly and leaned down, their lips ghosting each other.  

But she couldn’t help it much longer.

And at the end of it all I hope that your scars heal

Her lips crashed into his, desperate and needy. Filled with love and lust as he grabbed her hips. Their mouths never breaking contact as he laid her down on the end of the bed. Their hands found themselves in an almost endless shouffle to get the clothes of each others bodies.  

They weren’t even paying attention to where things landed as they stripped to see each other. The moment they were both naked, they were exploring the other’s body. Mapping out new scars and wounds. Both of them littered with new battle scars, cuts, and scratches. A new map of each other. New places to kiss.

Well, I leaned in for a kiss. Thirty feet from where your parents slept

“You’re beautiful,” he muttered as his hands danced over her stomach, his fingertips grazing over the scars placed there.  

“Sculpted by gods, my love,” he whispered and left kisses on every scar he could get his eyes on.

So in love with every bit of her he couldn’t help himself.  

“Anakin,” she whined and threaded her fingers through his hair.  

A light tug, pulling his attention back to her face. “I need you,” she whispered.  

“You’ll have me,” he grinned and stood over her.

And I looked so confident, babe, I swear, I was scared to death

He grabbed her hips and pulled them to the edge of the bed again, so they were flush against his strong thighs. A blush crept over her face as she watched him get down onto his knees for her. His hands never break contact with her skin. Always finding somewhere new to place themselves as he blew cool air onto her dripping pussy.  

She was desperate for him, just as he was her. He was going to make a mess of her by making her wait for him. She was needy and moaning already from the simple breath he put on her.  

“Anakin please,” she whined. It was all he needed before he went down on her.

My hands gripped the wheel

Her hands tangled in his hair tightly as his tongue darted over her. Collecting every part of her excitement. Anakin was in desperate need to taste the love of his life. He was afraid he was going to lose her again. He needs to taste it. He was dying for it. She was just as sweet as he remembered, sweet like honey. His tongue lapped her up before he started to target her swollen clit. Long strides of his muscle against it were driving her crazy.  

She was a mess, and she was his mess once again. He was going to claim her, and she knew it. She blames the markings on her body on the battle she returned from. Anakin grinned in council meetings knowing it was from him. He loved their little secret, but he couldn’t stand being away from her for this long. Every stroke, every kiss, every movement was intended to remind her of who she belonged to.  

I smiled stupid the whole way home

“Anakin, oh fuck,” she groaned and lifted her hips.  

In return he used the force to settle her down, holding her hips down and against his face as best he could. He wasn’t going to let her escape him. Not when he was devouring her like she was his last meal. He needs this more than she did.  

“Anakin please!” she called out as his tongue darted in and out of her core.  

He only tapped her thigh in response, and she knew what it meant. She was free to let loose to cum on his tongue. He wasn’t moving. She moaned and let out a big groan as she pulled his hair. Her hips lifted from the bed even though his abilities weren’t going to keep her down now. He was doing his best to stay attached to her so he could work her through her erupting orgasm.  

“I need you! I need you Anakin! Please," she cried and pulled his hair.  

Finally, he detached his mouth from her core and came up to take her lips in a searing kiss. He held her face tightly and pushed his body against her in a desperate attempt to sooth her.

And those five words in my head

He kissed her deeply, slowly moving her up the bed so they could lay comfortably. Her little whimpers and moans were driving him wild. So quickly he moved his hand down between them, to line up his throbbing cock.  

“You ready?” he asked as his forehead laid against hers.  

His eyes were watching hers as she nodded. A smile grew on his face again as he slowly pushed his cock into her.  

She felt like home by being this close. A bond, a feeling inside his heart. Home, it’s the only word he could use to describe the feeling of being with her. She loved every bit of it. The way he stretched her, the way his body worked with hers. Rocking his hips into her as his free hand reached down to focus on her overstimulated clit.

You said, "I'll never let you go."

He created a mess of her, ruining her slowly. Making her mind crumble as he rocked his hips into her. It felt like pure sin and she lloved it. She loved him.  

She quickly grasped onto the back of his neck and held him tightly. Her other hand left scratches from her nails. Marking him up like the beast that gave her those scars he peppered kisses over.  

“Anakin,” she started but he stopped her.

“I’m not going anywhere; I'll never let you go,” he grunted into her ear.  

He was just as breathless as she was, in a desperate fit of passion. His mind was only filled with her.

There ain't a drop of bad blood, it's all my love

She moaned into his ear before she turned them over, using the force to get him on his back. She looked like a goddess on top of him. His hands quickly found her hips. Her hips rocked back and forth. Letting his cock completely enter her, devouring him. She was in love with the feeling, he made her feel like she was on fire.

“I love you,” he grabbed her breasts and tried to sit up to kiss her.

But she pushed him back down. Her hand over his heart before slowly slipping around his neck.  

“I know,” she grinned and pushed her hair out of her face, before she leaned down to kiss him.

The grasp she had on his throat tightened a little, a small gasp escaping him. He loved it, but he wasn’t expecting it. It was pure pleasure, pure love. She’d never do this to hurt him, only to please him.

You got all my love and it's still out here

She waited three years for this moment together, and she wasn’t going to let him have all the fun. She hummed softly as she kissed his jaw, neck, and chest. Leaving dark marks in her wake as she moved.

“You love it when I'm on top don’t you?” she purred.

He nodded quickly and grasped the sheets under neath him, needing to hold onto something.

“I love it General,” he grinned at the teasing name, knowing she hated using her titles in the bedroom.

Stole the word from my tongue, it's all okay

“Ani,” she said in a warning tone, he chuckled softly as he gathered himself up again as her hand released from his neck.  

Her hips slowed down, almost to a stop.

“I know, I know,” he sat up and wrapped his arms around her tightly.  

“I like making you mad” he quipped before he flipped them again.  

Her back hit the mattress; he lifted her legs up to his shoulders swiftly. His cock finding a new rhythm inside her, going faster and harder. Drilling her needy body into the mattress. She was becoming ruined for him all over again. He could see it on her face, scrunched up in pleasure. She couldn’t even get any words out.

“You gonna cum for me, love?” He purred and left a big bite mark on her thigh right after.

“Fuck- yes,” she moaned and grabbed his hands, slipping their fingers together next to her head.  

“Please-” she started.  

There ain't a drop of bad blood, it's all my love

“Cum, cum for me,” he moaned right in her ear and held her hands tightly.  

It was over after that. She couldn’t hold herself back. She was spewing out curse words and his name in an anthem, like a prayer. It was white hot, and the passion rushed through her like an earthquake.  

Before she was finished, he kissed her once more. He loved watching her face as she came, and loved feeling her legs tighten up on his shoulders as she spiraled. He took in every detail of her. Every bead of sweat, every wrinkle in her face, and the movements on her hips. The way she said his name, he’d never forget the way she said his name. It sent him tumbling into his own orgasm.

You got all my love

Thick white ropes coated her inside and out, slowly leaking out of her as they caught their breath. He pulled out and lay next to her slowly. The glow on her skin was like diamonds, she was beautiful, and he will never forget that. He knew that she was his and she was here to stay. Nothing was going to take her away from him again.

“I love you,” she hummed softly and smiled at him, pushing his hair back slowly as she pecked his lips.

He grinned and watched her.  

“I love you too,” he kissed her back before he got up.  

“Where are you going?” she asked tiredly.  

“I'm going to get a rag so I can clean you up,” he replied.

You got all my love

He came back soon with a warm washcloth and cleaned her up slowly. He rubbed a good amount of healing jelly into her skin to help with any sore muscles she had.  

“How do you feel?” he asked in a kind and concerned tone.  

“Good” she replied with a grin.

“It's good to be home, good to be with you,” she ran her fingers through his sweaty hair.  

A smile crept onto her tired face.  

“I've missed you so much,” she hummed and pulled him back up to kiss him.  

This kiss was different from the rest, so soft and loving. A perfect way to hold this moment between them.

“You’re never leaving me again,” he whispered and kissed her head.  

She nodded and listened to him, seeing this strange look in his eyes. She couldn’t explain it, but it made her scared. The fire in his eyes softened quickly as he saw her shift.

“I need you to marry me...”

All my love  

tags: @divxnee @jediminddicks1000 @retrobhaddie @askyfullof-dreams

my tag list is still open, a lot of the people i have saved have changed their tags so i can no longer tag them, i apologize! if you want to be tagged, just reblog and say so, you can also message me.

[padfootagain]

Something Good (IV)

Chapter 4 : Ex

Here I come with a new chapter for this series! This is just cute, no warnings to be applied.

I hope you like this chapter!

***********

Warnings : none, just fluff

Sum up : Coming out of a divorce and trying to get used to being a single mom, while teaching your classes at University, you thought your life could not get more complicated than it already iss. But when you are asked to take care of the theatre club with the colleague that you really can't get along with, you realize that everything can still get ten times more complicated in your life. And when you start actually liking Professor Barnes, the troubles only grow exponentially...

Pairing: Ben Barnes x reader

Word Count: 2850

"He's so annoying!"

You planted your fork angrily into the innocent piece of potato in your plate, making your friend laugh.

"Oh, come on. He's not that bad," Jasmine argued, drinking some water.

"Sorry, forgot you fancied him."

She almost choked on her drink.

"I DO N…!"

She looked around, realizing that your colleagues were now staring at your side of the table.

It was lunchtime, or rather… it had been lunchtime about an hour before. You and your friend had been too busy to get a proper break, and were hurrying to finish eating to get back to work. The advantage of being late was that the lunch room was almost entirely empty, filled with researchers and PhD students from other departments you barely knew. You could thus talk all you wished about your new nemesis.

Because if at first you had tried to allow him the benefit of the doubt, you had given up after that last meeting.

Insufferable. Ben was truly insufferable.

"I do not fancy him," your colleague repeated, with the same outraged and angered look, only in a whisper this time.

"Really? I thought you did… What was the description you gave me when I arrived here last year… oh yeah. 'Gorgeous', 'charismatic'..."

She threw a piece of bread at your face, making you both laugh and effectively shushing you.

"I'm serious, Y/N," Jasmine resumed the conversation after taking a bite of her salad. "He's very sweet."

"For now, he has hidden that part of his personality with great talent."

"He just… he's shy. And I think something happened that made him fear change."

"What happened?"

Jasmine looked around for eavesdroppers, making you chuckled at her dramatic gesture. As if she was about to reveal a secret worthy of the MI6…

"No one knows. Some people say that Miles knows what it is, but he’s never told anyone. And you know how much Miles loves both hearing and talking about gossip. So, it must be something… strange."

"Strange? What now? Do you really picture that guy as a psychopathic murderer?" you joked, unable to refrain your laughter.

You were interrupted by a tired 'hello!' spoken behind you. Paul had just walked in, aiming for the coffee machine, unsurprisingly. You both waved at him before resuming your conversation. You were sitting at a table not too far from the sink and the old table on which rested an exhausted microwave, an electric kettle that only worked if you kept your finger pressed on the 'start' button, and the coffee machine. You thus had to speak a little louder to be heard as your colleague was preparing his hot beverage, the coffee machine making a rumbling noise that could be heard from across the corridor.

"Of course, nothing like that," Jasmine replied, rolling her eyes. "He's very sweet. I meant that something must have happened to him that kind of… closed him up. You know?"

"Closed him up? You mean… that shoved a stick up his arse…"

"Y/N! Don't be mean!"

It was your time to roll your eyes.

"Right… so what should I do about Ben then?"

"You should be more patient with him. Try to calm that tornado of yours."

"I'm a tornado now?"

"You do have a tendency to create chaos everywhere you go."

You reflected for a moment on this thought, and had to admit it wasn't entirely false. But then, your life had turned you into this ball of energy that could never calm down. With your demanding job, your daughter to take care of, single-parenting, your asshole of an ex-husband… if you slowed down, even for a moment, you were afraid you would crumble.

But then again, if your colleague was the kind to need time to accept change… maybe you could try to slow down, at least concerning the theatre club. Give him one more chance…

Ben was pacing. His office was small, and yet he took advantage of every square inch in an attempt to get rid of some of his frustration.

A stick up his arse?!

Really?!

“Not sure I was right to tell you about that…” Paul mumbled, watching his friend moving through the room.

“Oh, no! You were perfectly right to tell me! Because now, this is war.”

“Come on, Ben…”

“No! I really tried to be understanding. I am well aware that I am not perfect, and I could make things easier, and I tried. I really did try. But clearly, she has no intention to make an effort. Can you believe that? A stick up my arse… I’m going to show her. I’m going to show her if I can’t be cool and relaxed as well.”

Hands planted on his hips, he stared at the campus laid beyond his window. Students were here for the beginning of their classes. A new school year had begun, with its back and forth, its teenagers lost in corridors and a stressed level abnormally high for the teachers who needed to get used to teaching again.

A stick up his arse!

He needed to make you pay for this. But how? How could he show you that he was absolutely not the old, grumpy teacher you seemed to think he was?

Suddenly, a smile grew on his features, both bright and a little… dangerous.

“I know what I’m going to do!”

He turned to Paul in a twirl.

“I am going to find the perfect musical, one that all the students will want to perform. Then my play will be chosen and she will have to work on something I have decided for the whole year.”

“Alright… and what play is going to bring you your sweet but outrageously undeserved vengeance?”

“Oh yes, it’s going to be sweet, alright…”

“That was not the information you were meant to retain from my statement.”

“I need to find a play. I need to find a musical that’s cool… What kind of musicals are cool?”

Paul remained silent for a moment, arms crossed, thinking hard.

“Hamilton!”

Ben nodded with a bright smile.

“Excellent choice! I love that one too, it would be brilliant!”

“You’re welcome. I am unbelievably smart indeed, thank you, I am well aware of that.”

“Thank you, Paul,” Ben bowed down dramatically, making both of them laugh.

Paul had to leave for a class shortly after. Ben prepared himself a warm cup of tea before sitting down behind his desk, ready to go back to work. He still had to go through the lesson he was giving the next day to some of the first-year students, and then go through several articles, fill up a form to get access to some rare documents of the local archives, and he also had to check for a trip to London to the British Library to work on original manuscripts in the coming months…

He heaved a sigh: so many things to do. He picked up a blank sheet of paper and wrote down his to-do list, pushing up his glasses as they began slipping down his nose. He stared at the list for a moment, checking if he had forgotten anything else…

Oh, but he needed to find another musical! He remembered then that you had agreed on three plays to propose for a vote to your students. One you could choose individually, and one you would settle on together. He needed to come up with one more option…

He thought about it for a few minutes, but his brain was already set on this lesson he had to prepare, and he gave up quickly. He couldn’t focus on this now. Besides, he reckoned that his impressive collection of films at home would help him find inspiration. For now, he merely added another line at the bottom of his to-do list, set the paper next to his computer screen, and went back to work.

Ex-husband. Ex. That was still a term you had to wrap your mind around.

Ex.

It was a strange feeling, really. Saying goodbye to the person you believed would spend the rest of his life with you. And all of a sudden, by the gain of this little particle before his designation, all your plans for the next 60 years had to be re-written.

Ex. That's what these two little letters meant. A whole life planned out and vanishing.

It was outstanding, really, what two tiny letters could carry within their shapes. It wasn't just a new way to define a person, that was only what a dictionary would have offered as a definition. But you knew better, you taught English Literature after all. You tried to teach that to your students. Words mean more than what the dictionary reveals.

Inside these two letters were the months spent fighting with him. The weeks you didn't sleep. The rage within your ribcage. The loss. The grief. The doubts. The loneliness of coming home to an empty house when you had believed you would never have to do that again. Thinking of ways to tell your daughter until you got headaches. The lawyers. A pen. Signing your name, the same signature as the one you had used when you got married, this time to break a vow instead of building one. It was staring at your wedding ring for weeks without being able to take it off; and then finally slipping it off your finger while crying and hiding it away in a drawer. It was removing his pictures in your house. It was finding a new place because your home felt too empty without him. It was staring at his name for hours on your phone screen in the dark of your bedroom without dialling the number. It was waking up alone. It was sharing custody of your daughter. It was grief. And then… then it was fear. Fear that maybe there was something wrong with you, and that it was the reason why it didn't work out in the first place.

That was where you were at after a year of separation. It was tough, you weren't going to deny it. It was hell, even. But you still got out of bed every morning, so you reckoned you weren't doing so bad.

The flat felt empty and too silent without your daughter around. It was the weekend, and she was with your husband.

No, ex-husband. Ex.

The infamous two little letters.

You were alone in your apartment, just scrolling on your phone at random while something was on TV, but you didn't even know what it was. A movie of some kind. Despite the noise coming from the screen, there were no giggles from your daughter, you couldn't hear her play or draw, rummaging through all her little pencils. Instead, you were stuck with the TV screen. It felt lonely.

That was the hardest part: you were lonely.

You hadn't felt that way since you started dating your ex. Even when the two of you were apart because of a business trip, the only knowledge that he was missing you filled the hole in your chest. But there was nothing now to ease the feeling.

Sometimes, like today, you even missed him. Even wished the two of you were fighting, at least then you wouldn't be on your own. It was stupid and you knew it, but what else could you do against a pain like that?

Your friends encouraged you to go out more, now that you were single again, and some of your evenings were free when your daughter was with her father. But it wasn't the point, and your friends didn't get it. Even when you were with them, you were lonely. It wasn't about seeing friends, it was about being alone. You weren't sure how to explain it, weren’t sure how to find the right words. Ironic for someone who spent her life studying the words of others…

You stood up in a jolt and moved to your bedroom to open a drawer. The strength of your movement disrupted some of your clothes, although your drawer was more of a messy agglomeration of fabric than anything else. Folding took too long, after all. You rummaged through the socks, t-shirts and jeans until you found that little velvet box you had been looking for. Two rings inside, for when Steve proposed and when he married you. You were crying before you could even notice.

You almost wished it wasn't over. Almost. You had to leave him though.

But you were alone now, and what if you couldn't love anyone else?

Or worse, what if no one else could love you?

No, you couldn’t let yourself think this way. You were not perfect by any means, but your husband was also to blame for the end of your marriage. Actually, it was mostly his fault. You had made a bargain, and he didn’t respect his part of the agreement.

You threw the box back into your drawer, burying it deep under your clothes, and stormed out of the room.

You needed something to do. And this bloody TV was completely uninteresting.

What to do? What to do…? Watch a movie! That would take your mind off of your self-pity. Alright, a movie… what movie…

You scanned the shelf upon which you kept your DVDs. You could have checked Netflix, but didn’t feel like it. You wanted a safe option, something you were certain to enjoy. So your own DVDs it was…

Your finger ran across the boxes until you found the perfect one. A movie that would make you cry but in the best way.

You got yourself some popcorn before settling with a warm blanket on your sofa, as the first notes of Moulin Rouge! played.

Ewan McGregor’s sweet voice… it was just what you needed.

Ben had spent a lovely day. A nice run early in this Sunday morning while the sun was still shy and delicate. He had spent quite a while on the phone with his parents, and then with his brother. Then he had met up with a couple of friends for a late lunch, and after a walk across the city he had ended his day by a couple of hours reading. Dinner while listening to the news on the radio, and finally, he was about to settle for a nice movie night. Just what he needed to be full of energy to start a brand-new week the next day.

He had poured himself a glass of red wine and was about to settle in front of some Netflix show he had been binge-watching that week, when he suddenly caught a glimpse of a small piece of paper set on his coffee table.

He heaved a sigh as he picked it up, already knowing what it said, but reading the last line anyway.

On the to-do list, all the tasks had been crossed out, except for one. The last line.

Find another musical - theatre club

He bit his lip, hesitated, but decided he had to complete this one last task. He would keep on thinking about it while watching his show if he didn’t, and he couldn’t have that. It would ruin his evening.

So, instead of settling under a warm blanket, he turned on his heels and walked to the bookshelves on which he kept his DVD collection. A collection he had curated for years. He was almost as proud of it as he was of his book collection. And that was saying a lot…

He narrowed his eyes a little, having left his glasses on his coffee table, and scanned the titles of the movies in search for inspiration. He did have a respectable choice of musicals, as he enjoyed the genre very much. The perfect mix of storytelling and music… how could he not like that?

He scanned the titles, letting his finger run across the boxes to guide his eyes.

Hair? No. Awesome music, but he didn’t feel like doing something so political.

Les Mis? No, too long, and too depressing.

The Sound of Music was your choice already.

My fair lady? Too much of a classic, and he needed something cooler to contradict your impression of him.

West Side Story? You had used your veto for this one.

His finger stopped on the next one. He took a sip of alcohol, staring at the title for a moment, before picking it up from the shelf.

He turned off Netflix to watch his DVD instead.

Settling on his couch as the first notes echoed through his apartment, Ben smiled, knowing that he had made the right choice.

The world of prostitution and parties in the Paris of the end of the 19th century, with a passionate and yet tragic love story, and a set of amazing songs… you would see if he had a ‘stick up his arse…’.

Yes, Moulin Rouge! was the perfect choice.

Ha… and Ewan McGregor’s sweet voice! Yes, as Ben took another sip of his red wine, he reckoned that this was a perfect evening indeed.

[yanderu-deredere]

hope u have a lil fun with this ask cus i feel like maybe u might be into this: how would the yanderes be if their darling was a jpop idol? ive been watching oshi no ko and im super into it loool

yeong-bae kigal ★ profile

your biggest fucking fan LOL

literally sneaks around, his hair in a cap, shades on his face, ill-fitting clothes on his body just to be able to go to your concerts, your meet and greets, be able to go to the release of your albums

would always cheer the loudest!! and it's really a surprise becos he's usually so soft spoken and meek but like! he has quite a pair of lungs if it's for you!

has a closet dedicated to merch for you! he's literally a hoarder LOL he has the first editions for everything, has two copies of all of your albums, has the light sticks and the banners, the works

they have two copies of everything becos they should have one to open and look thru but the other one is to keep pristine in the packaging LOL

does the thing that some fans do where he buys as many albums as they need to collect all the photo cards and then sells the albums after without photo cards lmaooo or maybe shells out money to other fans so they can get their photo cards

basically, they have the complete memorabilia and it's their proudest achievement

if you ever sign something of theirs, they'll literally die. or they'll think they've died and gone to heaven

"Hi, what's your name?" You smiled at them and it felt like their soul ascended from their body.

With nervous jittery hands, they handed you their album, quaky smile on their face "Yeong-bae."

You grinned and gave a curt nod before hunkering over their album, pen in hand, to write out whatever you wanted to write out.

Yeoung-bae just sat there, still quite nervous but happy to be in front of you. Usually, he was too shy to come to meet and greets with an album. He was only ever courageous enough to shake your hand.

But, now, he actually sat down and told you his name!

"Here you go." You directed that blindingly gorgeous smile back at him as you handed him the album, opened to the page you signed on.

"Sorry, it's marker and I didn't want it to smudge." You apologised but all Yeong-bae could think was that you were so kind, so thoughtful.

Before he could read the message, your hand was suddenly on top of his, warm and soft in all the best ways. "Thank you so much for always coming to my events."

Yeong-bae's cheeks reddened and he tried to sputter out something intelligible. Unfortunately, your manager came along, ushering him away so that the next person could take their turn.

Yeong-bae tried not to be disheartened. It was easy when he glanced down at the message you left him as he walked away.

You're Yeong-bae from Acatalepsy right? I'm your biggest fan! As soon as I heard your voice, I immediately knew! Maybe we can have a collab soon? Good luck with your band and your events! I'll always cheer you on!

soren kumar ★ profile

acts less like a fan and more like a manager or a dependable senior

literally tries his hardest to always be around you LOL like suddenly, you're collabing with their band or you're practicing in the same studio all the time

he basically uses the fact that both of you are performers as an excuse to be close to you

and like acatalepsy (his band) is one of the biggest bands right now so like it's not impossible to imagine that you'd let him in, right? and just let him do what he wants?

also uses his position to kind of give you a boost behind the scenes. like he won't let you know its happening but, suddenly, you're getting opportunities and shit that you hadn't gotten before

you probably chalk it off to getting more and more popular and its that partly

but it's soren too. it's always soren

You stood at the right wing of the stage, hidden behind thick velvet curtain and darkness. You stared at the vast crowd in front of the stage, the sparkling lights of their light sticks almost blinding.

Just standing there made you feel nervous, made you feel small. You were nothing in face of that crowd.

You flinched when you suddenly felt hands on your shoulders and a breath against your ear "What's wrong?"

You recognised that voice anywhere. Instantly, you relaxed, a rather heavy sigh leaving your lips "Just nervous. Before concert jitters."

Soren turned you around to face him, that signature warm grin on his face "Nothing to be nervous about. You'll do great."

"Do you remember my tips?" He added, almost like an afterthought and you nodded. Those tips reassured you, made you a bit more confident.

Soren's grin only grew brighter. His hand moved from your shoulder to your cheek "You'll do great, love, don't worry about it so hard. That crowd is out there for you."

You wanted to argue that the crowd was out there for them, that this wasn't just your concert, but a shared concert between you, their band and a few other performers.

There was no arguing with the very sure and stubborn expression on Soren's face though. So, you just gave a nod and let yourself be reassured by him.

After you left for the stage, Soren watched you with rapt eyes, glancing away just quick enough to spot the paparazzi backstage with him.

He wondered what the headlines would look like in the morning.

ryuunosuke yamamoto ★ profile

biggest fan pt. 2 LOL

absolutely obsessed but, unlike yeong-bae, he's so open about it and he tells literally everyone he can tell about you

'oh you like good music? well have you heard of--'

people around him are sick of it but also they have to admit your music is pretty fucking good LOL

also has a huge collection but isn't smart enough to get repeats of any of his merch so all his albums are opened and well-worn

he'll flip through them whenever he has the time, just admiring your photos and stuff or reading your lyrics

keeps your photo cards in his wallet 100% and he lovingly shows it to people

he always takes extra jobs as sound tech or like backstage staff at concerts in the hopes that it ends up being your concert and it hasn't worked once but he still hopes

"Excuse me? Sorry, can I ask you something?"

Ryuu had been mid-bend and about to pick up a giant speaker when your melodic voice fluttered into his ear. He would've recognised your voice anywhere.

The speaker fell the short distance to the floor and he immediately turned around, wide eyes taking in your outfit and your sheepish little expression "Huh?"

Huh? Was that the best he could do? He finally manages to meet his soulmate, the one person he's loved more than anything, who he's admired more than anything, and that's all he had to say?

Thankfully, you giggled, all soft and sweet and Ryuu felt all his stress and worry melt away. You really were so magical and wonderful.

"Sorry, it's the first time I've done a concert here and I'm kind of lost." You admitted, looking so cutely embarrassed that Ryuu wanted to scream into his hands and roll around.

"Do you know where my room is?"

Of course he knew where your room was. He'd been hovering around it for ages now.

Instead of admitting that, though, he just nodded and immediately turned around, entire body wound like a tight string. He was way too nervous to be around you like this and, yet, he didn't want to stay away.

"Wait a sec." You ran after him, your hand--smaller than his, oh so small and soft and gentle--suddenly landing on his "Sorry, can't see well backstage."

You probably didn't want to mention his rather long legs and his rather long strides.

"Sorry." He apologised as well but his heart really wasn't in it. He was glad to have hurried along because, if he hadn't, you wouldn't have held him like this.

Maybe he could stick around you a bit longer, see if you cling to him more.

You were meant to be after all.

ayaka yamato ★ profile

your biggest fan pt. 3

instead of really collecting a lot of your merchandise, she just obsessively follows you on social media

she'll like every single one of your posts, retweets all your tweets, makes sure to join every single one of your lives

she also doesn't miss a single event, no matter how expensive LOL

she definitely does her best to monetarily support you

hires you to always have concerts around lovelock, makes sure to have shares in the company you work for, etc etc

is just overall very vocally supportive of you LMAO

"Excuse me?"

Ayaka froze in place, her fingers tightening around the iced coffee in her hand.

"Sorry, I don't know if I have this right but are you ayaka-ya?"

She finally turned around and, like she had thought, it really was you, smiling so sugary sweet, shy expression making you look absolutely adorable.

Who would've thought that she'd finally meet you at some high-end cafe downtown?

"Oh my god, hi!" Ayaka immediately stood up, eyes wide as she tried to take in your cute outfit and your gorgeous face.

"Hi, sorry, it's probably so weird to come up to you so suddenly..." You rubbed the back of your neck, looking extremely sheepish "But, uhm, I've been such a huge fan of yours for the longest time and I know that you're a fan of mine too, right?"

You'd noticed? Her eyes fluttered a little as she tried to regain her composure "Oh my god, that's sooo embarrassing that you noticed."

You immediately shook your head and took her hands into yours "No, no, I've really appreciated all the likes and retweets and just all the support! It means the world to me!"

"Actually..." You leaned closer, your shy expression only growing even more bashful "Your support got me through a lot of tough times so I wanted to say thank you."

Ayaka nodded hastily, heart beating a staccato in her chest. To hear you, the one person she looked up to and wanted to support, say that she had been supporting you instead?

Had she died of caffeine overdose and went to heaven?

"You can say thank you by having coffee with me, how's that?" She hugged your arm and gestured to the empty seat behind her, grin wide and expression excited.

Somehow, she could get addicted to this feeling.

[dxmoness]

𝑴𝐎𝐑𝐄 | 𝐄. 𝐕𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐬

𝑵𝐎𝐓𝐄: Okay, this has been in the drafts + my mind for a long while now, so it's time I break my writer's block lol.

𝑪𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: stalking, cursing, near murder.

𝑷𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒: I . II . III . IV . V

The prince's words followed her to her room. A voice so mysteriously enticing. Had she been any other person she would've fallen on her knees. But, her remembrance of who she was did not let that happen.

But either way the words he spoken haunted her no matter what she did to try and prevent its returns from her head.

Eros Vasilios had simply captivated her mind beyond a doubt.

Was it because of him saving her life? Or just a mere span of words of care? No, it had to be the first. Anyone could form words and manage to make it seem real, but no one could spin a blade fast enough to kill an assailant.

"I'd truly enjoy such an honor." Those words gave her feelings endless debates. Debates in which she failed to see which one the side. He sounded sincere, but even the most sincere words could be framed if you were born with the capability. Hadn't her father warned her of the prince's endless feats of manipulation?

Then again she didn't plan on leaving. Medea Solon was the reason she was brought and is here. She will not repay her hospitality with the betrayal of leaving in another's home.

A brief look from Medea at the ball made her notice that she hated Eros. If truth be told, no one could blame her.

From stories that passed through the Empire Name's gates, it was told that Medea had been badly played by the current emperor. So much that he even played with her most trusted 'friend' Psyche Callista at the same time.

Perhaps that was the reason why her attitude towards him seemed so... annoyed, frustrated even. Him being on the throne must not be a good thing. But, then again Name was not from here so how would she understand the empire's situation? She couldn't ask either, it would seem nosy to wonder of such things.

Muffled noises came to her attention, ending her thoughts. What was going on? Quietly walking towards the door, she heard faint voices. Pressing her ear against it, she caught a whispered conversation held by two unknown voices.

"You do realize how much of a threat he could be once he realizes right?" A hushed tone ushered to the other who replied with a firm. "I know, but she is our only hope. A weakness of his that cannot be obliterated at all costs." That voice made her heartbeat race. The duchess was talking with someone.

"If that is the case, then why not try killing her? Eros would do anything for her right?" Huh? Killing who? Her? Name bit her lip in hope that it was not the case, but the next sentence confirmed it almost immediately.

"If we kill Name, we kill a most likely alliance between me and her father. That will not do anything but harm us."

"But keeping her from her father will harm us too. You know who she is Medea!" The voice finally gave its recognition to her. Perion. The cardinal, was it? Why would he be here? At this time of night. That didn't make much sense and it didn't help that the two were ushering about her possible demise when they were right in front of her room. Was this intentionally placed so she could be aware of her possibilities?

"I know. Which is why we are keeping her happy here. At the very least we could keep her away from both her father and her own stalker." The tone was laced with annoyance. Stalker? Who was the stalker? This didn't add up whatsoever.

"What difference does it make to—" "Shush." Medea sounded really annoyed now. On the verge of angry even. "It's my plan and I'll deal with it however I think, I doubt you dare question me?"

After that there was silence. Then a shuffling of feet. It seemed the male had given up.

This exchange brought more questions than answers. Though one thing was clear Medea's intentions were not kind towards her. Perhaps at the part of keeping her happy, and maybe away from this stalker, but she was also keeping her from the man who risks everything for her.

Her own father.

Should she agree on staying with the prince now? Even the prince could be danger though... Best possible option would be to leave with no trace. Perhaps leaving her whole life behind even.

No, she shouldn't think that. Leaving meant a war her father might put up. And war with this empire was the last thing she wanted.

The next morning came quickly as she felt a sickening feeling in her stomach upon the recollection of last night. Fixing herself up, she took the initiative to come down without the maids calling for her per usual.

"Good morning." She murmured as she sat down. The duchess and her brother returned the greeting with much reluctance and ate while speaking quietly to one another through their eyes.

The meal was done in a silent manner. Far from the usual whereas they spoke to her, this time they seemed to hesitate even asking her sorts. Had the duchess realized she had overheard? She hoped not. If she had then Medea would send her away.

Suddenly Bertie barged in with much panic. Ushering towards the duchess she whispered in a rushed tone about someone's arrival, this caused Medea to jerk up while Dekis shot a worried glance towards Name's way.

"Your Highness, how about you go rest in your room for a moment? Someone important has arrived and will not wait for another time." Medea sounded calm and collected, but her angry face said otherwise. The person must be someone she very much disliked.

Dekis took Name's hand and rushed her to her room with one more word to stay put.

Staring at the now shut and locked door with frustration, she fiddled with the hem of her dress.

The temptations of checking the window finally took over as she walked towards the huge window for her to see a royal coach. It seems the prince had come to visit. She could see the male talking with duchess whilst standing outside.

A sound of a click was heard behind her caught her attention as her breath got caught in her throat. Who?

Turning around she managed to see a maid standing there with a maniacal smile before she felt dizzy. What had been placed in the food she ate earlier?

Holding her head, she collapsed onto her knees. Her vision grew blurry as she looked back at the maid. Eyes fixating though barely she realized this was the one that had been caring and making her food. So she was behind this. She'd been drugged.

A cough emerged from as she fell into a dark oblivion.

𝒕𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠, @sidra-29 , @roseadleyn , @rouecentric , @mysticmeena , @d10nsaint , @that-one-pretty-bitch

[strangefellows]

Something that occurred to me this morning and that's been living rent free in my head all day RE: Canto IV part 3 and the Yi Sang / Ayin parallels (under cut bc spoilers for Canto IV and Day 50 of Lobcorp):

Watching Yi Sang's interactions with his mirror self/Sang Yi reminded me so much of the Keter suppressions, especially Day 50.

And I went back to look at a lot of the Day 50 spoken dialogue during the workday and...

I want to hope that Sang Yi makes it retroactively clear that we do not, actually, know the real Ayin's opinion on his fate. We don't. The only person who says he should be happy and satisfied and willing to fade away is "A", who we talk to on Day 50, who isn't Ayin. It's simply Ayin's Sang Yi, Ayin's mirror self, a part of his consciousness.

"A" is the one who says it's okay to fade away. "A" is the one who says to be satisfied with the work you've done so far. "A" is the one who says all that's left to do is watch. He says you/your and we/us constantly -- he's not saying how Ayin feels, he's saying how he should feel.

In fact: "A", in his final line, says 'fade away without a trace'-- which is a direct quote from Carmen. And I don't know about you, but at this point I don't trust a goddamn word out of that woman's mouth, especially when it's involved with someone she very clearly manipulated at least a little.

(I could write an entire essay on how I feel like Carmen manipulated Ayin into the situation we see in Lobcorp due to using her near-suicide against him as leverage, as well as the conversation she conveniently has with him before that about 'oh, if anyone said something mean to me i'd probably do something drastic, but not you, right, you can endure' and making him promise to continue her work...but I'll leave it at that for now.)

My point remains: how did Ayin feel in those last few moments, that final day? Was he crying? Was he angry? Did he beg not to disappear? Was he okay with it? Was he resigned to his fate? We don't know. We were just told by "A", his mirror, how he should feel.

In fact, "A" as narrator is the one telling us about all the flashbacks from a present-day perspective. He's not letting us see, he's not showing us how Ayin felt back then, he's telling us. He's not showing us how Ayin feels now, he's telling us. We're told secondhand everything we know about Ayin: from "A", his mirror, from Hokma and Angela who are biased in opposite directions. From the other Sephirah, who are also biased. Because the real Ayin, our "X", never had a voice or a face of his own, we don't know a single damn thing about him. Not really. Not like Angela and Roland. We're only told how he felt, what he was like from others' perspectives.

And it's so, so tragic.

It's why I am so sure Limbus will bring Ayin into the picture again somehow, whether or not Ayin is Dante like I theorize: seeing the parallels and seeing Sang Yi so heavily parallel "A" and Day 50 in the cutscene during the final boss fight -- it paints a stark picture that we have never, ever seen Ayin have a voice of his own. He's never been free to speak for himself. Never been given a chance to show who he is or how he feels. He's been told by everyone else who he is, and was, and how he should feel about it over and over for 10 thousand years. It's not fair. It's so deeply sad. Does Ayin even know who he is anymore, amid all the memory loss, all these people telling him about himself from biased perspectives? And he never was allowed a chance to learn-- in the end, he was told to fade away, and be okay with it, and we never even saw how he felt about that, either.

The first and last time we're giving Ayin's actual name...is right before he disappears. It breaks my heart, especially now with the parallels to Yi Sang -- Ayin, unlike him, was never allowed to fly again. He was just...swept away into nothing. (Fly My Wings fits so well as an Ayin song too, hoough...)

So I think, given we now have a protagonist who's also had his voice and face stolen from him -- who struggles to be heard and seen -- who is around people who know him and refuse to tell him the answers -- who has to find out who he is on his own, discover himself from a blank slate...I really do think at the very least we're going to get a very blatant parallel, if not Dante being Ayin outright.

It just doesn't feel right for them to just leave Ayin as a nothing character in a series where he's so, so important. We know more about fucking Carmen than him, and she's been a ghost that haunts the narrative since day one!

Anyway, oops, this got longer than I thought it would be.

[little-pissbaby]

as always, we're complaining under the cut. tw for medical PTSD, mentions of medical procedures, personal/graphic descriptions of my fucked up little body, extremely privileged whining, it's worth it for the cat at the bottom tho

I am exhausted by the number of appointments I have. I've become the kind of person who has multiple appointments every single week. This week and next week are three appointment weeks, and those appointments always lead to scheduling MORE test/procedures/office visits.

I had an appointment with my urogynecologist. Given my history of neurogenic bladder and severe stage IV endometriosis, she's in agreement with me that it might be time to at least consider a bowel diversion, if not a total colonoscopy. This would be done in addition to a bladder diversion because self-catheterization has proven unsustainable and, frankly, dangerous for me to try to continue. I'll likely have a foley placed tomorrow morning that will stay in until I can get in to the urological surgeon, who has not called to schedule yet. I have the colorectal surgery consult next month and the neurourology consult a month after that. Just thinking about it gives me a headache.

I also have an EEG in a few days to see if the blackout episodes I've been having are epilepsy, and if it is, I'm not sure what we'll do since I'm already on a good amount of anticonvulsants. I have a feeling I'm going to leave that test with a migraine and no answers, which was exactly how the EMG/NCS I had done in my hand last Friday went.

Other things I've started include using a CPAP machine. I thought this shit was supposed to help you sleep better, but instead I'm waking up many many times in a two hour window, the pressure being pushed into my lungs is dislocating my ribs, I'm getting bloated from wearing it, and the pressure is coming out of my eyes and ears too due to a deformity in my inner ears called patulous eustachian tubes, so now my constant migraine is back in full force. I'm nothing but bloated and irritable as hell, but if I don't use it for at least four hours a day for at least 24 days a month, medicaid won't pay for it and I will have to pay out of pocket to buy the machine. My mother price checked it, it costs ~$1300 to buy the machine I have. I might just give up and give it to my brother, who also needs a CPAP but who doesn't also have EDS and is, therefore, not prone to ribs dislocating.

I met with my 4th electrophysiologist and that was a frustratingly and dangerously nonproductive appointment. He did not speak or understand spoken English well enough to be allowed to practice medicine in an English-speaking country imo. I don't give a shit about an accent, I don't think people need to "go back to where they came from" or that they need to speak English exclusively, but man it is so important in the field of medicine to be able to actually understand what your patient is saying to you. He had no idea what the condition I have even was, and he assumed I made all of these diagnoses for attention but would "humor me" and wrote IN HIS NOTES that I "insisted" on a holter monitor and tilt table test. I got these orders from Duke university, the closest university to me that has a genetic electrophysiology department and a dysautonomia clinic, both of which I was being seen at until Duke stopped taking my insurance. I was trying to tell this absolute worm brain that I was telling him what the top specialists GLOBALLY told me to have done, but I was just being young and attention-seeking I guess, I'm so dangerously angry about it, it makes my chest hurt to try and articulate just how badly this EP fucked it up for me.

I realized in the middle of a visit with my PCP on the 30th that I am not working towards a goal. Most people go to the doctor with the goal of Get Better Enough To Work, or Get Better Enough To Take Care Of The Kids. I don't have that. I'll never be able to hold down a job and I can't and don't want to have children.

I feel like the shittiest friend on Earth too because a good friend of mine only lives four hours away, but as much as we'd both like to visit, I have to schedule everything in my life around what's starting to look like a year packed with surgeries. I can't just pack up and go visit him, I come with medical equipment now. Between meds, splints, incontinence supplies, and the CPAP, I have to basically haul around a small urgent care center everywhere I go. I hate that I have to be planned around.

For a few wins, I do not have carpal tunnel, and when I had my A1C checked at my last PCP appointment, it was 4.9! Every doctor who finds that out informs me even their own A1C isn't that good because they like some specific sweet treat too much. My secret? No one has said they liked something that doesn't have dairy in it, and I've had a dairy allergy since birth.

anyway. I turned 26 just over a month ago and my beloved medical advisor turned 1 year old the same day. she's my birthday buddy :) it's weird having an Adult Cat in the house now, she's not the teeny tiny kitten that sneezed in my eye and gave me pinkeye anymore.

thanks 4 reading, besties. until my next frustratingly whiny and Packed Full of Info update <3

pictured: my big adult girl and medical supervisor 🥰

[another-trans-puppygirl]

I have been out for 4 years and never gave myself the space to express myself properly so i am making it for myself today

(first vent post so apologies for messiness lol)

tw// r*pe, transphobia, parental trauma, not sure what else but idk its heavy for me so just heads up

since i came out my life has changed insurmountably and it has all been terribly overwhelming. ive never really been one to use social media aside from horrifically embarrassing teenage shitposting, so ive just sort of let it all mount up and carried it around. i have a couple of transmasc house mates who i am terribly grateful for and consider them to be family but it has ultimately been terribly lonely not being aroud or talking to other transfems.

i will almost definitely talk about it in more detail on here at some point, but to keep things simple for now, i had very little control over how i came out to my family. it just sort of got revealed to my mum who insisted that my dad and brother (who didn't live with me, messy divorce) would never accept me and otherwise she was very unreactive initially. she feigned support whilst keeping it a secret from everyone in our immediate family but told lots of her friends for about 3 months but had expressed very negative views of trans women before so it felt very false to me. in january 2021 she decided she didnt support my "decision", as well as shouting at me for not telling her i had been r*ped and blamed everything on my dad. i didnt feel safe in her house anymore, so even though it was the middle of a covid-19 lockdown in the uk i had to take all of my belongings with me across almost the whole of england to get myself back to my uni campus. it was easily the worst day of my life and the hardest thing i ever had to do and i havent spoken to her since. i broke my collar bone as a young teenager and carrying all my stuff like that has made it hurt all the time, and i find it so hard not to think about it all whenever the pain is really bad. i was at university for animation, something i had always wanted to do my entire life. i could not bring myself to go to classes for the entire year so i deferred to the next. then i still couldnt bring myself to come in for most of the year. for some reason they didnt kick me out despite my attendance so i tried again the second year, and it went better but i was still really disappointed in myself. in my third year, things got complicated. i started to try really hard and believe i might be getting somewhere. i was the only person in my whole course that was doing traditional animation, my course was advertised as supporting traditional animation but i was not given a tutor so i was totally alone to try and fit my assignments to my limited skillset and resources. i had some ideas for projects i was really passionate about and started to develop and then it happened again and i got overwhelmed and decided i really couldnt do it anymore so i stopped going entirely. during this time i have also wrestled with the fact that i knew deep down that i am a lesbian. recently i have given up fighting it and have accepted that i am a lesbian, i think being on estrogen for one month as of today has played a big part in that, as it has rekindled my emotions and i just cannot fight that feeling anymore. but it has also brought on a terrible loneliness that i think i was suppressing beforehand too, and it has just made me feel incredibly lost. i am really happy somewhere in there about it, but it is overshadowed by a terrible sadness that i have let myself hide away this whole time. it has filled my heart to the brim with love and i feel like i have nowhere to put it and i just want to scream. i have been so scared to say any of this anywhere to anyone for fear of burdening people but i cant keep it inside anymore so i want to shout about it here because i have nowhere else to do it. so if youre reading this i am sorry for taking your time, just know it means the world that anyone even knows any of this and that bending your hypothetical ear will hopefully ease the load even if just for a moment.

[mostlymalena]

August 25th 2024 11:38pm

Our landlord finally fixed our hot water today! Such a relief since it's been over a week since me and Jo took a hot shower in our own house. I spent most of my day yesterday at Lala's which was nice. She always brings me such joy and can make me laugh. We played lots of games and I even took a small nap.

Work has been so good I'm finally catching up on my LP's and ppc campaign build outs. I love my job so much!

My sweet apple and I are enjoying the time I have left. 50 something days which is hard to swallow. It's not like I'll be gone forever just 4 something months. It's nice to have something easy and well, nice. No pressure and very relaxed, mostly.

I have been hanging up pictures and art around the house and I have also started drawing again. Something about life right now is making me feel creative. Tonight I made ramen for the family and Ethan came over and we drew a little and I made brownies. He is my very very best friend.

Saturday I went out with the whole gang and a local girl who I have spoken too maybe ONCE approached me and demanded I tell her why I unfollowed her on instagram and removed her as a follower. I told her what I typed on this very blog" I don't fuck with you". She then proceeded to ask why and it got a little heated. I was steered away but it unfortunately creeped me out a lot. This girl has never had one full conversation with me. She acted like I owed her something. I wasn't sure and still am not sure what her goal was in coming at me like that. Her and my ex were posting each other before I washed away most of my followers in my social media cleansing, so maybe it has something to do with that? I'm not sure.

Why does that matter so much. I feel like she only followed me to report back to others or to find something to bad mouth. It was so fucking WEIRD. She should feel embarrassed.

This week I am having lunch with my old friend Nat who just bought a house in wilmy. I havent seen her in 4 years now so that will be exciting. I am also meeting with a family lawyer to start the prosecution process for the person who made the false CPS report.

Fall has woven its thread into the air. It smells like devotion and the death of a careless summer. Surf might be good this week and my old friend Juliet might come to town soon and we will surf as well.

I am very happy right now. Life seems perfect with my family and friends and my little house and my front porch that is always warm.

Ive become very smitten and a strange but not unwelcome peace has settled over everything. I'm hoping the autumn leaves that fall down cover the memories of summer and bury them. Spring will bring fresh blossoms and the promise of never seeing her around town ever again. It is something I dread but it is something I look forward too more. At this point it feels more like surviving her than getting over her.

I think this Adam from the Bible character has become the apple of both of my eyes. It's just so easy going. I think it helps that I'm leaving so nothing is serious, I still mourn and he just listens.

But things are different for me now. The CPS thing broke something inside me I thought was a solid thing.

I must rest now and write a bit of poetry. I took all the love I had for her and used it to fall in love with my life. I feel real. I feel like everything is okay. I feel right and that is a little scary but I'm so grateful for it all.

[sincelastsession]

FUCK MY NEIGHBORS

They turned over all my planters now and I have NO PROOF but NOBODY else that lives here would do that. They know I have spoken to the SWAT sheriff twice now and he believes me and is on my side and all but the fuckin office will not listen to his expert advice to put a safety camera up at the pool area and he doesn't think I should have to put cameras up. Like there was a literal drug dealer that lived there before and was WAYYYYY quieter and chill and kind. My neighbor Darlene also a black woman with her one child has described these people as "ratchet" and told me they could not be reasoned with and want me to confront them and will likely keep bothering me tillthey get caught or I move out. I haven't checked my car but I fear they have fucked with it too. There's no cameras ANYWHERE on the premises. They want me to get a camera. I do not have it in my budget to get a cheap camera to put it up to deter people that should know what courtesy is as it isn't a fucking hard concept to understand.

I'm having fucking heart issues and a ptsd flare and autistc burnout from hell and god fuckin knows what else and now I can't fuckin sleep because ppl gotta be all in my fuckin plants to get back at me and FOR WHAT.

The pool was pristine and empty and they could have gone swimming despite the notes we all got. But no they chose to wreck my shit.

I do not give a damn if the pool is packed like a tin can and people swan dive off the balcony as long as they keep it down because I live here along with 20 other apartments with residents in just this area.

I don't know why they think it's just me calling because my neighbors do too.

This is fucking bullshit.

I do not need this stress.

I want to be financially independent but right now I NEED my parents to move me.

Fuck I mean I even told them i'd stay in a studio with essentials for a while if they could pay for storage but every safe area studio starts at 800-900 and I can't swing that by myself either.

I do know one person looking for a good roommate to live with and im going to ask my parents about a 2br 2bath place and let her just pay less rent to give em a break. Idfk what else to do. Maybe they will agree and she will be thrilled to move in. I dunno tho because she has her kids on the weekends but i know she's not terrible.

It's almost impossible to speak with my dad. He was an embarrassing ass coming over here and i told him not to touch the plant massacre and he moved shit before the officer could take goddamn pictures.

Then as I'm done sweeping up while the officer stood there because I was terrified feeling like as soon as he walked to go back home and my dad left the fucking neighbors were screaming laughing at "that white bitch sweeping up all the dirt was so funny"

I was super upset and Travis is like "Yeah you need to move" and everyone is like "yeah you should move" and ive been calling places and literally every place even the ghetto is "too expensive" and I have offered to try and put money towards various things if it will help me move faster.

I do not have another adult to cosign a lease with and being on SSI I can't sign a lease myself currently and if I could get a housing voucher the areas they are in aren't any safer and they do not allow animals no exceptions.

I don't have an appointment with you for next week. This is VERY DISTRESSING. I need to maybe have a check in if you have the time to call briefly. I don't know what to do and I don't know if im handling any of this well and im scared to leave my apartment now.

Like I do not care if it was just planters. It has been TWICE now.

I'm not crazy and they are doing shit to fuck with my head and damaging my property and because I have no camera money they are getting away with it. Plus there is nowhere to mount the damn cameras. I cannot run a cord or mount without like a professional install.

Fuck this.

I just want to live in peace and heal and have a life without worrying if i'm going to wake up to more shit broken or worse.

I legitimately almost had to go to the fucking hospital b/c my bpm was tachycardia when I checked it with my EKG tool. Had to CHEW my anxiety med and resist barfing to get it to kick in faster.

I'm sweating like hell from stress. I keep being unable to speak at times. I am getting MORE fight or flight urges and the coping mechanisms aren't doing shit currently.

I can smell someone smoking cigarettes outside my apartment but I am too scared to open my door and look.

No just fucking NO NOPE I FUCKING CANNOT THIS IS NOT OK. I go through enough already.

[pocmuzings]

[1] hi, i’m the anon that was in your inbox. i’m so sorry, but i can’t come forward. i’ve had enough trouble with her in the past and i’ve just gotten to a point when her drama doesn’t make its way to me on a daily basis. honestly i’m not sure what to do because of how popular and “beloved” she is within this community.

[contd] she was thrown out of the group i was in for trying to make an OC who would purposefully make poc and female characters uncomfortable, as stated by her, because he was a white male politician. when confronted about this, she made herself out to be the victim and would not apologize. she was explicitly told that her actions and speech made people uncomfortable, not just other poc muns, but really everyone in the group, and she didn’t care a bit. she instead turned the conversation around and made herself out to be the victim in the situation, but the worst part of all of this is that she just didn’t care that she was making us uncomfortable, and totally didn’t understand how her actions and speech were racist. i’m scared that she is going to do this again, and i don’t want anyone to enter a space that she has control of (her roleplays) and feel that hostility, too. i don’t want them to be gaslit. i honestly thought that her being kicked would make her recede from the rpc, but it seems like she just waited for things to die down to return. she is evil, and nobody goes up against her because she has influence. i’m so sorry to put this on you, i’m just scared and needed to vent

ok holy fucking shit . i cannot believe this person has a place in the rpc . with your permission, id like to publish the asks you originally sent including this persons name and url . however , this is completely up to you . if you don’t want me to post those asks , that’s understandable ! i have put out some feelers about this person in general and have discovered even more horrifically racist things they’ve done just last year . this is unacceptable. this person somehow has a repeated history of being awfully racist and finding non-whites as not “ conventionally attractive “ ??? i don’t care if this person is “popular” or makes good graphics for the rpc . i don’t care and i don’t want to use their resources , and honestly i don’t think anybody else in the rpc should either . i don’t want to read their performance of pretending to care about poc and especially black people right now , when i’ve gotten this slew of information utterly disproving everything theyre now apparently trying to do and prove .

also please please know it’s so understandable to be scared and to not want to come off anon . i commend your bravery in speaking out . i want to thank you for coming to me and informing me . i want to thank you for feeling a safe space within me and my blog . i want you to know i see you and i recognise your feelings and you are so utterly and completely valid . if you don’t feel comfortable speaking out — that’s so fine ! you have done more then enough already ! i am more then happy to take this on and shut this person and their bullshit down but i won’t do it without your permission . from what i’ve now since found out though - they’ve done this sort of stuff repeatedly and it is Unacceptable and they’ve never had any repercussions for their actions . that has to change now . and it will . i promise you it will because i for one will not fucking allow it . i won’t allow for anybody else to feel what you have felt or gone through what you’ve gone through because it’s disgusting and Unacceptable in every damn way . basically : i’m sorry. i’m sorry you had to deal with this . i’m sorry somebody treated you this way . i’m so sorry to hear and know this person and have followed them . im sorry theyre “popular” and seemingly inescapable in the rpc . i’m sorry for the abuse and racism you suffered at their hands . you didn’t deserve that . nobody deserves that . in the meantime — again, if you’re comfortable — if people message me for this “popular persons” url , i will give it out because i don’t want anybody following them or giving to their resources when there’s plenty of OTHER non-racist resource makers who make amazing graphics and stuff , so let’s direct our attention to them . i will be deleting this persons content off my blog, too . i thoroughly encourage everyone else to do so too, if you wish to have the url . i strongly suggest people do ask me for the url . i know a lot of us follow this person . that stops now . i love you anon . i’m proud of you . i hope this helps lessen the weight on you. take a deep breath , you did the right thing and i’m in awe of you for everything you’ve gone through to now message me and make sure people are aware of this person .

[copiousloverofcopia]

The Burning Ones

A fic commissioned by a lovely person who has asked to remain anonymous.

Copia has long been in love with a Sister of sin his own age, but now must decide to be with her or take a young woman as Prime Mover to become Papa.

Also available here on AO3!

As always open for asks/requests and commissions on the heart mug site!

Thank you again for commissioning me and I hope you all enjoy!

Definitely NSFW below the cut!

Cardinal Copia walked diligently down the main hall. It was a quiet afternoon in the Abbey, so quiet he could hear his footfalls on the marble tiles, echoing as he stepped. He made his way to the chapel, nodding to sparse siblings as he passed by. His mind, trying to find reason and his heart heavy.

He sat down, the sunshine warm and inviting in his favorite spot in the front of he pews. Copia would often sit there, the vibrant light from the stained glass window coloring his face. It was peaceful. A place where no one was telling him where to go or what to do. He had been the Clergy lap dog for far too many years and things had only gotten worse.

There were whispers and rumors that the Clergy may allow the Cardinal to ascend. If any other Emeritus son had proven himself the way he had, they would be fitted with the miter and chasuble in the blink of an eye. Only the Clergy and Copia knew the truth. The Cardinal was to ascend. At the end of the tour he would become Papa Emeritus IV.

There was only one catch. For him to become Papa he must take a Prime Mover–fathering the next generation of the Papacy. Had this been a task for any other man, an opportunity to bed a younger sister, it would have been met with much elation. For the Cardinal however, it left an ache in his chest and a reluctance that would not be overcome.

Today was the day he was to give Papa Nihil and Sister Imperator, along with the other members of the high clergy, his decision. He knew that some of this was his own doing. Had I only been man enough to have done something sooner, to have let her know...I would be miles away from here, he thought to himself. His mind, replaying images of her in his head as he sat in the quiet of the chapel.

It didn't happen all at once. Copia had known her for a period of time as a child, but only truly came to befriend her when she entered her novitiate at the Abbey and he, not far out from seminary school. The two of them were close, the bashful Cardinal making her laugh at every turn and Seraphina, his Sera, helping to pull him out of his shell. It wasn't a mystery to him why he'd fallen head over heels in love with her—but she nor anyone else knew it. Today he would confess, his affections laid bare before you and praying to Lucifer that she felt the same.

The cold water hit Seraphina's face with an intense sting. Her nerves were on shoot and her head, a bit achy. She pulled her favorite habit over her, the one that hugged every curve of her hourglass shape, and tucked her long dark espresso hair in her veil. As she finished getting dressed she took a deep breath making her way out the door. Her mind fixed on the Cardinal–her Cardinal. She had spent her life beside him, a faithful friend and confidant. Helping pull him from the darkness, darkness of his own self doubt, whenever he would succumb.

He had beckoned her to meet with him that afternoon. She needn't ask where, Sera always knew where to find him when he had a lot on his mind. She knew he was to talk with her about his decision. Copia had come to her with everything that plagued him in his life.

When he told her what the Clergy—the church had asked of him, her heart sank. She'd given everything to the church, a life felt unlived in many ways. Her heart secretly aching for him, but never speaking it's truth aloud. While the two of them had spent so much time together, neither one of them ever speaking a word of their hearts desires.

Sera had often wondered if her life would have been different if she had spoken up. There were numerous times when the occasion had risen, having been friends for over 30 years, but alas nothing had ever come to fruition. Now she suffered in silence, her tear stained pillows the only outward sign of her affections for him. Today she would make her way, as she'd done so many times before, to the chapel to help him.

She knew that once he accepted being Papa, the expectation of him to produce an heir, the final nail in the coffin would be struck. Sera's days for having children had come and gone–her heart mourning the loss of hope that they might still be together. She carefully opened one of the doors to the chapel. Her eyes met the sight of Copia at the front of the pews. Just like always, Sera thought as she quietly made her way down the nave.

"This seat taken?" Sera asked, sliding next to the Cardinal, his hand running through his sandy brown hair.

"For you Sister, I always save a seat." Copia smiled, patting the wooden bench for her to come closer. Sera laughed, he was so kind and sweet. She loved him so very much–so much that what was to happen next would surely destroy her. Copia stared up at the altar, in his vision a statue of Lucifer in all his glory for him to focus on.

"I assume you called for me because you've made a decision?" Sera asked, knowing that prolonging the pain would only make it worse. Copia pressed his lips into a flattened smile. His visage not inspiring hope.

"You can tell that, can you?'' he asked her, a bit of nervous chuckling with his words.

"Copia I've known you forever and I am sure that if you called me here it is because you've made a decision. One that I'm sure is the—the best possible one you could have made. You're a good man—you will always do what's right." Sera assured him, a hint of her sadness seeping into her words

"What have I done to give you such a warm opinion of me?" he asked her, Seraphina smiling at him.

"Just being you." she said, a sad smile creeping on her face. Sera's resolve, starting to fade as she hoped he'd hurry it along. To her surprise he took her hand in his, a gesture she couldn't recall him having done before—not like this.

"I won't do it. I can't." He told her, his eyes, mismatched and deep, staring into hers. Sera swallowed back the knot in her throat.

"Wha—what? Why?" she asked him, feeling her heart start to pound within her chest. She looked away, not wanting him to see the tears beginning to fill her eyes. Copia scooted closer to her, closing the already small space between them, as he took Sera by the chin.

"Sera, l-look at me." Copia said, stammering a bit as he spoke. He knew by her reaction that his suspicions had been true. His only regret now, that he'd never said anything before. She must love him, as much as he loved her. The two of them were destined to be together–damn the Papacy and the church.

"Don't you want to be Papa? You're throwing that away? After everything you've worked for?" Sera cried, no longer to hold back her tears.

"What I want Sera–cara mia, is to love you. To love you openly and fully. The way we are meant to, with my whole heart. To feel the touch of your skin against mine, us becoming one." Copia purred, bringing his lips to pepper kisses along the line of Sera's neck. Although she could tell he was still very nervous, Sera melted with his words. On the precipice of a paradise lost, now found. Reality set in and Seraphina pulled back from him, a pained look on her face.

"Copia? How did you know that I?" she began, stopping to wipe the tears falling on to her cheeks.

"I suppose I've always known, but I thought maybe it was because I wanted it so. That I wanted you to want me just as much as I wanted you?"

"But what if they don't let you be Papa? What if us being together ruins that for you and everything that you've worked for? Sera cried, unable to control her emotions. Everything was happening so fast, she had no time to adjust it make sense of it all.

"Then so be it cara. If we burn for this, at least we burn together." Copia told her, his hand now resting on the top of her thigh. Sera shivered, she'd imagined this moment so many times in her head–her heart aching for it to come true. Copia slid his hand along the length of her thigh, his fingertips finding their way to the hem of her habit. He pushed up the fabric, Sera's bare skin tingling from his touch.

"Oh Cardinal," Sera started, Copia's fingers finding their way to her panties. She took in a sharp breath, the sensation of his rubbing her gently through the fabric already sending her on edge. Copia ceased kissing her neck to look her in the eyes once more, longing to taste her lips. "Copia, you'd give up the miter, the Papacy, the power–all for a woman who would bear you no sons?"

"You are everything cara mia. There is nothing I wouldn't give." Copia said, his mouth quickly taking hers. His lips were warm and his tongue tangling with Sera's, set her body aflame. Copia worked his fingers past her panties, slipping them gently through her wet folds. Sera let out a gasp, feeling him touch her this way was pure ecstasy. She moaned, pulling tightly to Copia's shoulders as he buried his face in her bosom. Copia became drunk, breathing in the scent of her perfume and feeling the wetness of her arousal on his fingers.

"Ahh…Copia." Sera moaned, feeling him curling up his fingers inside her, pressing deliciously on her most sensitive spot. Copia groaned, watching the way her body writhed with the pleasure he was giving her. A dream come true and finally his friend turned lover. Copia could feel Sera's body quiver, her insides pressing inward on his fingers, her hips rolling with his ministrations.

"Sí, cum for me cara. Cum on my hand—show me you want me just as much as I want you." Copia begged. Sera's breathing quickened and her fingers dug into Copia's shoulders as she felt herself give way to him. Cumming hard and fast, so intensely she saw stars. Copia wasted no time, pulling his fingers from inside her. Each of them dripping with her satisfaction, he took his time as he savored the sweet taste of her in his mouth as he sucked each of them dry.

Sera moaned from the loss of his touch, Copia having already dropped to his knees, the swell of his cock very apparent in his pants. He pulled Sera's panties off, tossing them to the ground beside them as he spread open her legs for him. He growled, his eyes meeting with the wet shimmering of her sex calling to him.

"I need to taste you, feel you on my tongue cara mia." Copia pleaded, staring up into Sera's eyes. She bit her lower lip, her body still recovering from her orgasm as she nodded her head to him. Copia pulled her to the edge of the pew, gripping tightly on either thigh as he began to kiss up her legs, the whiskers of his mustache ticking the delicate skin there. Sera couldn't help but twitch and shake.

He had already pulled one orgasm from her, determined to pull yet another. Copia's kisses made their way to her sex, as he began to lap at her folds, his nose nudged the bud of her clit. Seraphina practically elevated from the prew, her body coming undone with her lover's touch. Copias tongue slid up her folds, making the most lascivious of sounds fainting echoing in the quiet of the chapel. She rolled her hips up to meet with his mouth, the broadness of his tongue covering her cunt fully. Before she knew it, Copia had his pair of fingers back inside her, pressing and rubbing into her walls as his tongue flicked her clit and traced through her folds.

"Mmm Copia, yes I'm going to cum again!" Sera cried out, her one fist full of Copia's hair and the other gripping the seat of the pew. Copia smiled against her, his rhythm never faltering as he continued–pulling yet another orgasm from her. The fluids from inside her spilling out, covering his mouth. Copia sat back on his calves, wiping his efforts from his lips.

"Seraphina, you are the sweetest thing I have ever tasted. I can't wait any longer. I need to have you—be inside of you fully." Copia insisted, pulling his hard cock from his pants and stroking it in his hand.

"I want…need you too Copia" she said, still hazy from the heights of pleasure she'd reached. Copia sat down beside her, his pants around his ankles and his eyes filled with lust. Seraphina took her dress in each of her hands, pulling it up as she climbed onto Copia and sank down slowly on his cock.

"Ah…cara you feel so good." Copia grunted, his eyes closed tight, unable to focus on anything else but the feeling of her pulsing cunt surrounding him.

"Fuck Copia, so do you." Seraphina moaned, using her thighs to lift herself up and down on the length of him. His throbbing girth filled her completely, sending her nerves firing. Copia held her hips and she continued her movements. Sera's head fell back as she rolled in time with Copia's thrusting. As they went, their control began to falter. Sera had never felt such pleasure, the tip of Copia's cock pressing into her g-spot over and over as he fucked up into her. Copia began to pant, his orgasm mounting as Sera bounced diligently on his cock.

"Don't stop cara, I want to cum for you. Cum inside of you—make you mine." Copia cried out, his grip bruising Sera's thighs. Copia's teeth grazing at her pulse points in-between needy kisses.

"Oh my love, Copia. I want to cum for you too! Sera cried out, her wanton moans unbridled and loud. Copia buckled down, the moment he began to feel the walls of her cunt contracting down onto him he knew it was time. Seraphina's body was holding on to him inside so tightly he could barely move.

"Ahh…Sí….Sera. I–I love you!" Copia whined as he sent ropes of hot cum deep inside Sera. His pulsing cock kicking, as he filled her to the brim. Copia's own orgasm sent her over and Sera felt herself give way to him once more, her fluids mixed with his dripping down and rolling over Copia's thighs. Copia collapsed onto Seraphina's chest, struggling to slow his breathing and listening to the beating of her heart. She kissed the top of his head holding him close to her, his emptied cock still seated inside her.

"Copia…I love you." she admitted, Copia brought his gaze to her face. Her skin was beautify flushed and her eyes glassy with tears. Copia smiled up at her, Sera smiling back down at him. A nervous laughter breaking out between them as they held each other in their arms.

"I should have done this sooner." Copia admitted. Sera sighed, squeezing him tightly.

"Yes you should have. I love you so much." Sera smiled, kissing him deeply. Copia broke their kiss once more, Sera slowly opening her eyes as he spoke.

"Seraphina, mia dea oscura, ti giuro che da questo giorno in poi non ti lascerò più andare. I love you with all that I am."

Notes:

mia dea oscura, ti giuro che da questo giorno in poi non ti lascerò più andare- my dark goddess, i swear to you that from this day forward i will never let you go.

[serumandsteel]

the way we heal | jj maybank

- pairings: jj maybank x reader

- summary: people deal with trauma in different ways but it seems that jj thinks you don't care about the loss of your friends and deep down himself but he just needs to understand that people heal in their own time and through their own meanings, he just needed to be reassured of it. kinda pre season 2 ep 1 give ot take

- warning(s): really motherfucking angsty and swearing. mention of substance abuse

- wc: 2.2k :))))

a/n: all my fics the pogues and reader are the age 17/18 only because that's more comfortable for me to write. its been a long long time since i have wrote something so sorry for and spelling errors

People tend to deal with trauma differently. It could be resulting to crying you eyes out until you can’t breath and you can’t see through your tears clouding your eyes. Drinking until your liver wants to shut down and you whole body is so numb that yourself and everyone around you is so tuned out that you can’t function. Resulting to drugs to either feel something or not to feel anything at all. Or to have something to blame your actions on from yourself acting out simply because you don’t know how to handle the situation of a friend dying.

See you on the other hand dealt with it internally or the whim and feeling of not accepting death. Maybe it was your subconscious talking wanting you not to accept or maybe it was the gut feeling that you always got telling you that they were actually alive and have survived that storm that ‘supposedly’ had swept them away because “no body was found”.

This ‘gut feeling’ had always been right in many life or death situations. Or even just you picking out an outfit that you were unsure of whether it was going to get the boys attention that you had a crush on. It did indeed get his attention that night because that’s how you ended up loosing your virginity that night but that’s besides the point.

The best way you could describe it was like when people would do personality tests and it would ask “are you controlled by your heart or what you feel” probably not those exact words but you get the point. I felt with my feelings if my gut said yes then it was a yes.

Since the night that John B and Sarah had ‘died’ your gut had been telling you the opposite. That they were in fact not dead. As Big John use to say when you were a kid, you can never kill a Routledge. At the time it seemed like bullshit but now it was starting to grow on you.

However now your two friends were presumed dead and not everyone dealt with trauma like you did. Some would even go as far to say that you didn’t actually give a fuck that your friends were dead because you hadn’t cried or you hadn’t drunk yourself into a state of no return or resulted to smoking weed every single day and spray painted ‘murder’ on Ward Cameron’s estate. But at least Kiara wasn’t lying.

But the thing was you hadn’t cried because you couldn’t, you quite literally hated crying because it made you feel weak. Even if you tried and you tried your hardest but nothing came. At this point you could go as far as denial. This gut feeling was like getting hit by a semi truck every time a thought came into your head questioning maybe they were dead. Maybe they did get swept away at sea and never to return.

Your gut feeling was simply not letting you mourn the loss of John B and Sarah and now everyone thought you were an emotionless bitch. I mean they were right to a point but not the whole point.

So that brought you to current day driving around the Cut and night playing fucking real life Where’s Wally but its Where’s JJ Maybank because he’s blacked out drunk somewhere and now you’re on a rescue mission. Not like you had done enough of those in the last few weeks.

About an hour ago your phone rang and it was JJ asking you to come pick him up since somehow he had now idea where he had ended up and was too far gone to put together his surroundings. Well that’s what you had assumed he said since you had to decipher his slurred words.

At this point you had driven around the whole island and gone to every hid out spot that he would go smoke at or to just get away from everyday life. You had gone to all but one place. Where you avoiding that particular house because it held so many memories, plus the fact you hadn’t been near the place since shit hit rock bottom. Yes? But it was the highest chance that JJ was sitting on that dock with his legs swinging over it with a beer in hand.

Well you were right. As you walked down the old dock to where JJ was sitting it was if you could feel all the emotions, thoughts and disbelief crawling their way up your skin from the ground you were walking on. But that gut feeling was like a wave of fire, burning it all the way back to the ground.

“I don’t know why I just didn’t look here first. I should have known aye” you half heartedly said trying to keep the conversation light since you didn’t know what state JJ was going to be in. From the huff you got in response told you he wasn’t in the mood to talk.

“How much have you had J?” You asked with concern but still trying to keep you voice light and less reprimanding because you knew he was in a too fragile state for you to be angry.

“Does it even matter how much Iv had. I don’t feel shit anymore” he replied back with his words straight forward and sobered.

“Well have you even given yourself a break for your body to sober up for you to even feel the effects of it? Or have you still been going since yesterday when I saw you? J its not going to do shit if you don’t give it a rest for at least a day or so” you said back trying you best to keep you and your voice as calm as possible. You fucking hated seeing JJ like this, you would never say it to his face but fuck it just reminded you of his dad when he got into states like this. Until the last week you had never seen JJ this bad. But could you blame him.

“You just don’t get it do you” JJ was now facing you and by the tone of his voice you had unintentionally struck a nerve that you were actively avoiding. “Why did you even fucking come if you’re just going to tell me how I should cope. Do you even care that JB has gone? He was our best fucking friend. He was my fucking brother my only family! And he’s fucking gone just like his old man. You haven’t even shed a tear y/n. You’re just acting like nothing had happened. Do you even care!” JJ was now on his feet breathing heavily and his jaw so clenched you’re surprised his teeth haven’t broken

“J, please do not yell at me right now” you asked with your voice shaking trying to hold back something that was bubbling at the surface. Was it anger or was it the water works that desperately needed to be let out.

JJ started to walk back up the dock, showing that he was done with this conversation that he could have avoided if he didn’t ask you in the first place to come pick him up. Deep down he knew that you would be the only one to come and get him, he just wasn’t as good at showing his gratefulness due to the alcohol that was numbing him.

“JJ just wait please, please don’t walk away” You stood back up and starting walking after him quick on the backs of his feet. He halted his tracks and turned around to look at you with a pained look in his face, as you got up close you could see his eyes stained red. Either from crying or the linger of weed still in his system.

“What could you possibly want to say y/n. I really thought you would be the last person not to care about this” JJ was now right up in your face and his voice was holding back trying his best not to yell. But that last sentence had taken you back.

“You think I don’t care JJ!” now you starting yelling “of course I give a shit JJ our friends are gone, they are not fucking here. I know it might not seem that I don’t care. But just because I’m not crying my eyes out every hour or drinking myself into a state where I don’t now where the fuck I am or getting high that I spray paint on any wall I see” your breath was now battling to come to the surface because you were talking so fast.

“Just because Im not doing any of those things doesn’t mean I don’t care JJ! People deal with this shit differently and you need to understand that” you breathed out trying to grasp for air again “the thing is JJ I have this annoying gut feeling thats telling me that John B and Sarah are not dead, and its literally preventing me to mourn them. I have convinced myself that they are alive and I can’t fucking mourn non dead people J. I don’t know how to fucking explain it”

“Well why didn’t you just tell us that” he replied after bit letting your whole rant sink into his brain, weaving its way through the alcohol that was clouding it.

“Because JJ! Even saying that out loud I sound fucking crazy, like I’m in a deep pit of denial. The thing is I’m far from denial. Yes I know there is a massive fucking fat chance that they are dead and have been food for the sharks” you exclaimed

“Don’t make it worse y/n” JJ shook his head not very happy with your choice of words

“Okay yeah sorry bad wording. Im sorry” you lowered your head in sorrow wanting to slap yourself in the face for trying to make jokes out of trauma.

“So its not that I don’t care J, trust me I do care. But John B and Sarah are not physically here with us and I cant physically care for them right now. But when we see them can do that”

“Y/n -“ JJ tried to get a word in but you hadn’t finished

“Don’t JJ. We will see them again” you put an emphasis on ‘will’ “I trust my gut and even you know that when I get a gut feeling that it’s always been right. Correct?”

“Yes but -“ he tried to get another word in but you needed him to listen.

“JJ I care about you. I care about Kiara and Pope. You guys are physically here for me to care for. The thing is I haven’t spoken to Kie since she’s with Pope half the time and I have spoken to Pope since he’s with Kid half the time and you? I can’t speak to you because your too far gone in beers to for me to even get a coherent conversation in” This was such an over due conversation to be had, you were now on the verge of hyperventilating. You needed JJ to hear this. Fully sober would have been better but half sober is the best you’re gonna get.

“JJ I understand if that’s how you’re going to deal with all of this but you can’t throw yourself completely away. We need you. I need you JJ. I can’t have you going off the deep end and then we loose you too. You need to be here for when we get John B back. He will need you for when he’s back”. The water works that you had been holding back had finally been released and trust it to be in front of JJ. He was your fucking rock, you couldn’t loose him. No way that would be your last day on earth if that were to happen.

“I-. Im sorry. I’m just so fucking lost y/n. I don’t know what the fuck to do. You’re always at work and Kie and Pope are god knows where. I just want this to go away so fucking bad. All this pain, I feel like I have no one” JJ was now crying to and gripping your waist as is you could float away into the air

“I know JJ, but you have us you have always had us. But you have to be so stubborn sometimes that you won’t let us in and help, you won’t let me in a help you” you had JJ’s face in your hands making him look at you so he knew you meant every single word. “I’m so sorry if you didn’t think I cared and I wasn’t there to help you, I just deal with this shit in a different way. Just like every single other person. We all heal differently and that’s okay. It dosent mean we care less. It doesn’t mean I care less”

Now there you and JJ stand on the dock leading off the chateau both in each others embrace purging the pain that’s both been locked up inside you for so long. The past you and JJ had people really didn’t tend to understand but neither did you. But you would always find your way back to each other at the end of the day. Despite the fights you had in the past and the days you would be at each others throats screaming at each other to the days you would be secretly stealing a glance at him because you just couldn’t help yourself.

You would always be there to help him take the pain away and he was always be there to do the same for you.

[creacherkeeper]

Spice for the autumnal asks, because I miss hearing about your haunted/cursed house experiences!

ohohoho thank you juliette <333

spice - have you ever encountered a house that you believed to be haunted?

(general spooky cw's apply here but i'll put more specific ones if needed)

so i lived in two haunted houses growing up. and when i say haunted houses i mean legit 100% definitely haunted to the degree of i would absolutely not believe in ghosts otherwise but i would be so stupid and willfully obtuse to not believe in ghosts after living in these houses. like other people have been ghost deniers and then i tell them all the stories of my extremely haunted family and they're like "i both believe in and am afraid of ghosts now"

so some background

my moms side of the family is Very haunted. lots of people in their family have had Experiences but the ones ive heard the most about have been from my mom and her siblings. my uncle very frequently saw a native american woman with long black hair walking around their house, most often sitting in his room and brushing her hair. the entire sibling squad and their cousins saw a person walking down the street and stop and fly over a ditch and then land and walk up to a house. my mom has had photographs talk to her. theyve all had prophetic dreams and frequently have family-oriented esp (like calling a family member they havent spoken to in four months at the exact moment that family member is calling them, or knowing when bad things have happened to family members. or even knowing i had a dream about a specific family member even though i hadnt told anyone)

the house that we lived in when i was a baby was so haunted that we had to move because no one would babysit me

the most common thing that happened was people hearing things that werent there. for example, my mom would be home with me, the garage door would open, the keys would jangle, the house door would open and shut, she would hear my dad whistling and then setting his keys down on the counter. then she would walk in and no one would be there because my dad was actually still at work. or if someone was babysitting me, they could hear my parents come home and talking as they walked in, but they weren't actually there, and when they would call my parents they would still be 30 minutes away. this exclusively happened when someone was alone with me so no one ever wanted to be alone with me anymore

also while living at this house, when i was about 1 1/2 or not quite 2, i told my mother i remembered when i used to be her mother. when she questioned me what i meant i got too angry and wouldnt respond to her anymore even though i was a very docile toddler usually

(pregnancy/miscarriage cw) at another house, my mom had her first of two very late term miscarriages. she woke up in the middle of the night but didn't know what had woken her up. she was lying on her back. then suddenly a cloudy black shape bubbled up out of her stomach, paused for a moment hovering over her, and then shot up through the ceiling. she had a miscarriage the next day

the house that i lived in from ages 8 to 18 was also extremely haunted. lots and lots of stuff happened at that house

very frequently there would be the unmistakable sound of feet running up the stairs. it was a brand new house and the stairs didn't make noise otherwise. just feet running up them every once in a while. the dogs would always go crazy barking and run to the stairs looking for who was there but no one ever was. this happened a lot when i was home alone

this also only happened on my bedroom door but i had one of the long handles not the round one, and very often the handle would push down, pause for a moment, the door would push open and stop halfway, pause, and then close again. i thought maybe it was just me but my parents were in my bedroom one time when it happened and were like jesus christ you were telling the truth

this only happened with me and my mom but we heard piano music in the house all the time

one time my mom was home alone and walked into the foyer and there was a girl sitting on the stairs. my mom freaked a little but thought she was from the neighborhood and came in through the backdoor (we didnt keep it locked) and said "hello?" and the girl looked at her and then vanished

also not totally sure this one counts bc sleeping, but once a woman in a tattered white wedding dress with long black hair woke me up in the middle of the night and told me to get out of my bed and go sleep in a different one. i didnt question it at the time but i woke up later like. wait wtf. found out the next day that this woman is a very common ghost to see

i think the one i've been personally present for that had the most participants was when me, my mom, and 5 of the baby cousins were playing in the backyard. they were all between ages 7 and 12, i was 16 or 17. i had to pee so i told them i was going inside and would be right back, and when i came back out they were all laughing. i asked what they were laughing about and my mom kind of rolled her eyes and was like they thought it was really funny you were waving to them from your bedroom window. i was like oh haha yeah just trying to be silly :) and then pulled my mom aside and was like i literally was not in my bedroom. she got very serious and was like dont lie to me we literally ALL saw you very clearly waving to us from the window. i was like i went in and peed and came right back and i never even went upstairs. we're the only ones home there's no one upstairs. she got very mad and told me to stop trying to scare her. when i was still speaking to her a few years ago she still didnt believe i hadnt gone upstairs and still believed i was lying because they "all saw me so clearly"

i do wonder if "ghosts" are just places where the multiverse overlaps with itself a little bit? all my supernatural encounters are just totally normal things that shouldn't be happening when they're happening. people who WOULD be there but arent right now. doors opening in the exact way i walk through them but im just not walking through them right then. people seeing me waving through a window when that IS something i would do, i just didnt do it

i've never had a "malicious" ghost encounter save for one incident that i never got an answer about. it was pretty simple. i woke up with the shape of a hand bruised around my knee. like someone had grabbed my leg while i was sleeping. my parents were the only ones home and neither of them had done it. their hands didnt even line up with the bruise. and no matter how much i contorted i couldnt twist my hand to fit onto it. but it was unmistakably four fingers and a thumb grabbing my knee. i dont remember if i had any dreams that night, but i never "heard from" that ghost again

so thats. why i believe in ghosts. lol. it would be dumb of me not too. i dont inherently think ghosts are dead people, like i said above. i think its just some spacetime fabric getting all ruffled up. but theres a lot about the universe we dont understand. why not some thats a little spooky?

now does that explain why my moms family is also definitely werewolves and just refused to tell me? maybe a little. but thats a whole other story