#her heart stopped beating one day and they refused to accept it because

[fregget-frou]

Angel oc angst and their backstory + personality

I love Aklaq so much

Aklaq is getting better at it but they’re still very self conscious about their injuries when they were 16. They got into a nasty car accident where they had to have their left leg amputated because of the damage from the fire. Since then they’ve hated how less mobile they seem to be, and angry with them for struggling with things. Aklaq used to be the families support and did most of the work along with their younger brothers and took a lot of pride in being strong and reliable. Since then they struggle to do alot of prolonged activities because of chronic pain and less stamina. They hate being looked down upon and it was a large problem in the beginning of them and David’s relationship because he kept on belittling them and trying to do things for them because they’re disabled. This led to a large fight when David was constantly forcing them to stop doing chores and generally anything physical which led to them breaking down because they felt trapped.

They’re trying but it’s hard, both them and David are very reserved people just expressing that in different ways and they both struggle to make meaningful relationships. Aklaq lost their mom before they moved to California for college and simply couldn’t stand being in the same place where she used to be so they left. Their little brothers were old enough to live on their own but still felt hurt as Aklaq refused to talk about their mom and even acknowledge she died. When angel finally accepted that their mom was gone it was hard but at the very least David was their to be able to get that feeling. Their mom and Aklaq had a similar dynamic with David And Gabe, Aklaq being the oldest and being the one to take over the family farm, being raised by their mother alone because their father passed etc.

Aklaq is an older oc that I adapted into a listener and I find their personality along with David’s to be great together, even with the clashing because they are in similar situations and can lean on each other. I just love them pls

[catmiemy]

New Life, Old Problems (Leah Williamson x Reader)

Summary: You're trying to fully settle into your new life in London with your girlfriend. But when you get sick your past stops you from reaching out.

A/N: Finally managed to put something on paper again! By now I have about 6 stories (some multiple chapters) fully planned out in my head, but I struggle so much with actually writing any of it. Although it's getting a bit better, so I might become more active again.

This is the third part of the New Teammate series (Part 1, Part 2 Arsenal version). Although I think you should be fine to read this without reading the other parts first. Also this was definitely helped along by @holly-wallis, who reached out to tell me she was excited for the next part. So thank you again!

You thought you were doing well. You thought you had settled perfectly into your new life in London. You thought your relationship with Leah was going great. And all this was true, but only to a certain degree. Underneath the surface there were still many gaping wounds and you had a long way to go, which would take even longer because you refused to accept it, pretending like you were already at your destination.

How hard it really was for you to fully trust anyone, even Leah, to be vulnerable around her, became glaringly obvious when you got sick. As much as you wanted comfort, someone to take care of you, you couldn’t allow it. The thought of trusting anyone so much when you were in a vulnerable state left you panicked.

However there was no hiding your sickness. Leah and you had plans that day and if you came up with some random excuse your girlfriend might end up checking on you since it was unlike you to cancel without a good reason. And sadly you couldn’t think of a single good reason why you were unable to meet up with Leah. How were you supposed to do that when you could barely muster up the energy to go to the bathroom when needed?

In the end you decided that the truth was your best course of action. The defender had been exceptionally understanding about your situation and the multitude of struggles you still faced because of your past trauma. Honestly more understanding and patient than you were with yourself.

Despite being reasonably confident for a positive reaction you still were too much of a coward to call your girlfriend, opting to text her instead. ‘This was better for your sore throat anyway’, you reasoned with yourself.

R: Le, I’m sorry I have to cancel today. I got sick.

L: Oh no! Are you okay? No wait, scratch that. How bad are you feeling? Is there anything I can do? Bring you something? Or do you want me to come over to keep you company? I’d be happy to!

You looked at the sweet and caring words, Leah’s concern noticeable even from these few letters on your phone. The urge to text back and ask the Englishwoman to come over was huge. She would take good care of you; make you feel safe and loved. But you couldn’t allow it because what if…

You couldn’t even begin to describe what was hiding behind this what if. Maybe it was actually that, the big unknown, the completely unexpected. Never in your life would you have pictured what had gone done with Jimena and the whole team in Barcelona before it had actually happened. It had left you afraid to fully let your guard down because who knew when something unpredictable would happen again. And right now you were definitely too tired to keep up any guards, so your only option was to keep everyone far away from you.

R: That’s very sweet, but I can’t…I’m sorry.

With a rapidly beating heart you watched your phone, practically hypnotizing it, scared of your girlfriend’s reply. What if this was the final straw?  As much as this possibility scared you, it was still more bearable than the alternative. At least it was an option you had already considered. You wouldn’t be blindsided by it. Plus if there was one thing you had gotten good at in the course of your life it was dealing with pain and people leaving you.

L: I understand, babe. But if you need anything please text or call me. And I’ll be right there! Take care of yourself! Sending you some remote cuddles. Love you!

Your whole body relaxed as you read this response, even some tears of relief rolling down your cheeks.

R: Thanks, darling, I will. And thank you so much for being so understanding!! Love you too!

And with that you put your phone away, buried yourself under the covers and fell asleep relatively quickly. The cold medicine you had taken before texting Leah doing its part in helping you drowse off without too much of uncomfortable shuffling. Your last thought was that hopefully you’d already feel better when you woke up again.

Unfortunately the opposite was the case. You were startled awake by a violent coughing fit that just wouldn’t stop. You thought that you could ride it out, but when it got to the point where you felt like you had to throw up from coughing so much, you forced your tired body out of bed and into the bathroom.

First you collapsed in front of the toilet, bending over the bowl, but once it became clear that you didn’t actually have to throw up, you dragged yourself into the kitchen and filled a glass with water.

As long as you were drinking you were fine, but as soon as you put the glass down the scratchiness in your throat returned with full force, swiftly followed by another cough attack.

You resigned yourself to keep standing there, leaning heavily against the counter, too tired to support your body weight with only your legs, and drink glass after glass, until finally you could put the water down without instantly dissolving into a coughing fit.

At that point you were trembling because of the cold, your teeth chattering and every single bone of your body seemed to be hurting. Still you didn’t immediately crawl back into bed, instead you gathered all of the supplies you might need to ride out this cold. You filled a bottle with water, grabbed some crackers and medicine and then you decided to also get a bowl to be on the safe side should you actually have to throw up at some point.

When you finally returned to bed, your breathing was labored and you all but fell into it. You quickly buried yourself under the blankets. It did little to warm you up though and you debated for a moment to get back up and get more blankets. The idea of moving again seemed entirely impossible however.

This time it took you a lot longer to fall asleep, silent tears streaming down your face because you felt so miserable. You yearned for some comfort, for Leah’s arms around you really, and you knew she would come in a heartbeat if you asked her. Still, you couldn’t. You just couldn’t!

The next time you woke up you felt even worse and it was at this point that you realized that you needed help. Somewhere in the hazy fog of fever and misery you managed to form this one rational thought. However you had little recollection of what happened next.

You remembered staring at Leah’s contact on your phone for a while, although you couldn’t say if you did so for a few seconds or minutes or even hours. In the end you decided against calling her, instead opting to get an Uber. How you managed to get to the hospital was beyond you. You had some vague memories of a very concerned and helpful Uber driver who even walked you into the ER.

Another thing you recalled was sending Leah a message once you sat in the waiting room, slumped against the wall and shivering violently.

R: Fine. At hospital. But fine. Don’t worry!!!!

You even remembered feeling very proud of this text; convinced that it would soothe all of your girlfriend’s concerns. If you would have been coherent enough to read Leah’s answer you would have known that it had the opposite effect. You did feel the constant buzzing of your phone from when the Englishwoman tried calling you over and over again, but it felt kind of nice against you aching body, so you didn’t do anything about it.

---

“She’s not answering her phone and she hasn’t texted me back, Lia! What do I do!?!”

Your girlfriend was crying as she basically screamed these words at her best friend. When she had gotten your text and couldn’t get a hold of you, she had called the Swiss woman for support and because the midfielder was known for being helpful in difficult situations.

“Okay Leah, first take a deep breath…” Lia began with a soothing tone.

“Are you kidding me?! How do you expect me to breath when I don’t know where my girlfriend, my very sick girlfriend might I add, is!” Leah yelled, feeling the need to punch something like some sort of cliché from a movie. Or even better, the blonde would have loved to have a ball at her feet right now, that she could pund with all of her strength into the back of the net. And then maybe get into a slightly too aggressive scuffle with an opponent. Just something to get rid of this nervous energy.

“You know where she is though, she’s in the hospital, so they’ll be taking care of her,” Lia reasoned, continuing quickly before your girlfriend could blow up at her again, “And fine let’s skip the breathing. Here’s what I think we should do; you pack some things your girl might need and I’m going to call the hospitals closest to her. It shouldn’t be too hard to figure out where she is. Then I’ll come pick you up and drive you over because you definitely shouldn’t be driving.”

Despite her earlier refusal Leah let out a deep breath, relief smoothing out the edges of her panic, at least now they had a reasonable plan. This was exactly why she had called her best friend and once the Englishwoman was less preoccupied with her fear for you she would be thanking Lia profusely.

A little later the two footballers arrived at the hospital, Lia once again taking the lead and asking about you. There was a bit of a back and forth where the staff had to figure out if they could even give them any information about you.

It was a big test for your girlfriend’s brittle composure, every second that ticked by brought her one step closer to bursting into tears or unleashing her fury on everyone that got into a five meter radius of her.

Leah managed to keep it together however, not using the healthiest coping mechanisms. The Englishwoman kept pinching herself to let at least some of the overwhelming emotions trickle out of her.

Lia frowned when she noticed, but decided to keep her mouth shut. She didn’t want to risk a full-blown outburst which might then keep them, or at least Leah, from seeing you even longer.

Finally they managed to find the right information and saw that Leah was in fact your emergency contact, something that the blonde had been telling them all along. If only they would have believed her then this wouldn’t have taken so long!

Thankfully things went quickly after that. Leah was led to your room while Lia wasn’t allowed to tag along. The Swiss woman promised that she would stay in the waiting room until your girlfriend had updated her, in case either Leah or you needed something.

Leah entered your room quietly, not wanting to disturb you even though with all the meds you had been given it was unlikely you would wake up anytime soon. Still she didn’t want to take the risk. So the defender tiptoed into your room, coming to a sudden halt once she had a good view of you.

It filled your girlfriend with fear and pain to see you so sick. You were pale, even more so than usual, almost the same color as the bed sheets. There was a tube connected to your arm, most likely to replenish you with everything you needed. You were also hooked up to a monitor, and it was a small relief to Leah that everything on it looked and sounded normal. As far as she could tell at least. Most of her medical knowledge stemmed from watching doctor shows, so that probably wasn’t the most reliable source.

After getting used to this sick, fragile version of you the blonde approached you, standing by your bedside. She looked down at you with teary eyes, gently stroking your cheek before smoothing out your tussled hair.

Your girlfriend craved more contact. She wanted to snuggle up next to you, wrap her arms around you and basically attach every centimeter of her body to yours. But Leah didn’t know how you would feel about that. Not when you weren’t awake to enforce your boundaries, not when you were in a vulnerable state which usually made you push people far away from you.

So with a sigh she pulled up a chair and sat down next to your bed, not even allowing herself to hold your hand. The England captain didn’t want to risk making you uncomfortable even the tinie when you woke up.

It was about 30 minutes later that Leah suddenly remembered that Lia was still waiting for her. She rushed down to the waiting room, not wanting to leave you alone for a second longer than totally necessary.

“She’s okay, I think. Or not too bad at least. So you can go home,” Leah explained, sounding very unsure. Everyone had told her that you would be okay, all the signs pointed to it, but she would only be able to believe it once you woke up and she could see for herself. And maybe not even then.

“That’s good! I guess you want to go back now, but call me if you think of anything you need, yeah?” Lia replied, giving her friend a tight hug.

Leah nodded, before turning around and walking as fast as she could back to your room. She would have run, but had the distinct feeling that that wouldn’t be appreciated by the hospital staff. And the Englishwoman didn’t want to annoy anyone, not when she was aware that they were already breaking the rules for her by letting her stay with you way past visiting hours.

---

When you woke up you noticed with a pang of sadness that there was no warm body next to you. It wasn’t like you and Leah stayed over at each other’s place every day, but definitely more often than not. And lately every time you woke up alone you felt some dismay. Everything was just better when you got to start the day with your girlfriend.

The second thing you became aware of was that despite just waking up you still felt exhausted, drained was the better word really, and also somewhat hazy and achy. It was then that you remembered that you were sick and that you had this weird fever dream where you took an Uber to the hospital. If you would have had the energy for it you would have laughed at the absurdity of this.

However as you opened your eyes you realized with a silent ‘Oh’ that it hadn’t been a fever dream after all, you really were in the hospital. Panic bubbled up in you, but got quickly cut off before it could become overwhelming by your favorite voice speaking up, even if you didn’t like how worried it sounded.

“Babe, are you awake? How are you feeling?”

You turned around, your lips turning into a smile when you laid your eyes on your girlfriend. She had gotten up from the chair she had presumably been sitting in, staring down at you intently. The Englishwoman’s eyes were trailing over your entire body, however not in the way they usually did, this felt more clinical, like she was attempting to spot anything that might be wrong.

“Could be worse,” you replied.

Leah gave you an unimpressed look. “But it also could be better?” She double-checked and you nodded sheepishly.

“Is there anything I can do before I get the doctor?” Your girlfriend asked softly.

For some reason Leah was still standing a good fifty centimeters away from your bed, her arms hidden behind her back as if she had to stop herself from reaching out to you. If only she would! You longed for some comforting touches and maybe a good, reassuring hug from the blonde.

“Get me home?” You joked with a pleading look. You definitely wanted to get out of the hospital but you knew that it wasn’t up to your girlfriend, and she would never do anything to endanger you.

“No can do, sorry babe. Anything else?” Leah prodded, hoping you would ask her for a hug. She could barely contain herself from launching at you, but the fear of crossing your boundaries in such a difficult situation kept her back.

“Maybe a cuddle,” you mumbled so quietly and rapidly that Leah couldn’t decipher what you were saying.

“What was that, babe? Sorry I didn’t quite hear you,” Leah apologized, taking a step closer to you.

You locked your eyes with your girlfriend’s, letting all the love and concern shining in them wash over you and give you the strength to utter your request more loudly. There wasn’t even a reason to feel weird about it, you knew that Leah wouldn’t deny it, would most likely be happy to oblige.

“A cuddle?”

Within milliseconds your girlfriend closed the distance between the two of you, sat down on the edge of your bed and leaned down to gather you carefully in her arms. You both felt and heard the relieved sigh Leah let out when you were tucked into her arms.

It made you wonder why the blonde had kept her distance before, a certain guess at the forefront of your mind. And in the safety of your girlfriend’s arms you managed to ask about it without much over thinking or fuss.

“Why did you sit all the way over there?”

All the way over there was a bit of an exaggeration, but also not really. Any sort of distance between your sick self and your girlfriend felt like way too much.

Leah tried to lean back a bit to look you in the eyes, but you held her firmly in place. You weren’t ready to lose the comfort of her body on yours, even if she put now weight on you, not sure if it would negatively impact you in your current state.

“I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable with me being too close when you woke up. I know allowing closeness when you aren’t feeling too good is still very difficult for you,” Leah explained as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Even though your girlfriend showed you over and over again, day in and day out how amazing she was, the level of understanding and love behind this gesture still knocked you off your feet, or it would have if you were standing. It almost made you believe fully that you would always be safe with her. Almost. There was still a tiny bit of fear and insecurity left. It would probably take a good while longer until you got rid of that last remnant and you were once again very grateful for Leah’s patience.

“Thank you so so much, love,” you whispered, pulling the blonde even closer to you.

“Always,” Leah stated, not an ounce of doubt in her voice. She would always do whatever she could for you, to make you feel comfortable, loved and safe.

Your girlfriend allowed you to cuddle a bit longer until she gently extracted herself to get a doctor. At first you were somewhat annoyed at this, you would have preferred to stay wrapped up together for the rest of the night. However when the doctor announced after a quick exam that you would be allowed to go home later that day, you didn’t mind so much anymore. The thought of going home made up for losing contact with your girlfriend temporarily.

Especially because she instantly stated that she would be staying with you when the doctor pointed out that you could only go home if there was someone around to supervise you. The way her voice sounded slightly offended that this wasn’t abundantly clear to everyone made you smile fondly.

That’s how you found yourself sitting in Leah’s car that Lia had brought to the hospital early in the morning with help from Viv and Beth a few hours later. The short walk to the parking lot had tired you out and you couldn’t wait to get to Leah’s apartment and crawl into her cozy bed.

You were half asleep when your girlfriend asked you, “Home?” Still you managed to nod and echo her words. “Home,” you confirmed.

In your drowsy and still a bit feverish state you hadn’t realized that Leah was actually asking where you wanted to go, your apartment or hers. In your mind it was already decided that you would be going to the Englishwoman’s place. You loved her apartment more than yours at this point, everything about it homey and safe.

So when the blonde announced that you had arrived and you opened your eyes from the half-sleep you had been in a wave of unhappiness hit you as you took in your surroundings. You were parked in front of your own apartment building.

Tears flooded your eyes, which you tried to blink away hastily before Leah could spot them. It was stupid to be upset because of this, it wasn’t like your apartment was bad or anything, you were just really craving the comfort of your girlfriend’s place. Where everything smelt and felt like Leah.

Of course the defender detected your distress instantly. She had been watching you like a hawk ever since she had gotten to the hospital last night.

“What’s wrong, babe? Does something hurt? Should we go back to the hospital?” She asked you in rapid succession, trying unsuccessfully to keep her voice calm and steady.

You shook your head, mumbling that it was nothing. To emphasize this point you reached for your seatbelt, determined to get out of the car and into your apartment without any more of a hassle. Everything was fine. It didn’t matter that you had wanted to go to Leah’s home. Everywhere was better than the hospital anyway.

Leah didn’t give up so easily though. She put her hand on yours lightly, not taking a hold of it however, leaving you the option to pull it back if you wanted to. You didn’t, just this small contact made you feel better instantly.

“Please tell me what’s bothering you,” your girlfriend begged, her eyes looking suspiciously wet.

“It’s stupid,” you waved Leah off.

“Please,” Leah asked again, demolishing the last of your resolve to keep this to yourself.

“I really wanted to go to your place,” you explained, rushing to add, “But it doesn’t matter. Let’s just go inside now.”

Again you tried to make an attempt to leave the car, and again Leah stopped you with a gentle touch.

“We can still go over to my place if you prefer,” she offered, already turning her car back on.

“No, that’s not necessary. I’m just being silly,” you argued, but Leah just reached over to buckle you back in and pulled out of the parking space.

You didn’t have it in you to continue arguing. Plus you were too happy at the prospect of getting to go to your girlfriend’s place after all. So you just leant your head against the car window, letting your eyes flutter shut again.

“I thought you said you wanted to go home,” Leah said before you could fully fall asleep.

“I did, but I meant your place,” you answered tiredly.

“Oh,” your girlfriend exclaimed, her voice heavy with emotion. The idea of you thinking of her apartment as your home meant a lot to Leah. Every once in a while she couldn’t help but worry if she was doing enough to help you move on, to be the best girlfriend possible, to make you feel loved and safe. So this undeniable confirmation that she had been succeeding in all of these aspects meant the world to your girlfriend.

When there was no more reaction from you after this, Leah glanced over, smiling when she saw you sleeping soundly. You looked so young and open and vulnerable when you slept. Leah cherished the fact that you were comfortable being like this around her, that wouldn’t have been possible a few months ago.

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

Good Luck, Babe! (5)- Nothing More Than His Wife

Wanda Maximoff X Reader 18+

Inspired by the song 'Good Luck, Babe!' by Chappell Roan

Summary: Returning to Westview after twelve years away causes you to look back on your secret love affair with Wanda, to remember the intimate moments you shared together before her refusal to accept her true self drove the two of you apart, leaving you to pick up the pieces of your broken heart alone.

What happens when you reunite with the woman you've been trying so hard to forget, forced to watch her suffer in an unhappy marriage that was slowly drowning her, still too scared to confront her true feelings?

Chapter 5- 4.3k Words

Good Luck, Babe! Masterlist

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 6

Twelve Years Later

A defeated sigh tiredly left her lips as her eyes gradually fluttered open, adjusting to the dark room as mere slivers of moonlight peeked through the gaps in the curtains, only partly illuminating her shared bedroom. The light reflected off the gold band wrapped around her finger as she adjusted her position on the bed as quietly as she could, her despondent green flickering over to the clock, noticing how it had just gone past midnight before letting her gaze drift to the other side of the bed, taking in the sight of his short blonde hair as he slept peacefully, an occasional snore escaping him.

Wanda couldn’t stop the other sigh that fell from her lips, her fingers pushing back her auburn locks carelessly before holding her head in her hands, trying to untangle the mess of thoughts swirling around in her head as she struggled to sleep. The weight of the day pressed heavily on her shoulders as she thought back to the argument she had with Vision, his words and the ring on her finger a reminder that she was nothing more than his wife, nothing more than a mother to their children, the one thing everyone told her should be enough. It should be. She was supposed to be lucky to have this; a ‘loving’ husband, a family of her own, a large house and a steady income, she should be grateful but she wasn’t because this wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted more, she wanted… to be loved, to be appreciated, to be seen. She just wanted to be seen again, her mind unable to stop herself from thinking back to the last person who ever made her feel this way.

Her heart fluttered at the thought of you, your soft, playful and casual smile that you always offered her, the way your eyes overflowed with mirth and joy as you teased her and did everything you could to make her laugh and smile, to make her feel as though she was the only thing in the world that mattered. 

The warmth and longing that wrapped around her heart was quickly stripped away as she continued to think about you, the wound on her heart that had never healed making its presence known as that broken look in your eyes resurfaced in her mind, the way despite your world was crumbling around you, you still tried comfort and care for her.

Your soft words painfully rang around her head, haunting her as the guilt of that day consumed her, that familiar nauseous feeling stirring inside her as she sighed once more, giving in to the thought of that day. She hated herself for hurting you, she regretted choosing others over herself that day and lying to you, for saying she didn’t love because she did- no, she didn’t, she couldn’t face the truth. She still couldn’t. It was engraved into her, her mind punishing her for wanting to be different, to be something other than normal. It was wrong, yet she still wished to think of you that way, needing an escape from the unfair world she was stuck in.

She missed you. Her mind, her body, her heart, had missed you, her entire being craving you in every way possible. She longed to feel your soft fingers brush back her hair, to tuck it behind her ear and gaze at her with love overflowing from your eyes, to smile tenderly at her as she propped her head on your chest, listening to the steady beat of your heart to help her relax. She needed to feel your laugh stir warmth in her as she endured your light-hearted teasing, to feel the blush rising to her cheeks, tinting a vibrant pink as you would continue to tease and torment, making it up to her with a delicate kiss or a more sinful one, not that she minded. She also missed playing with your fingers, a habit you didn’t judge her for as she grew anxious about something, simply offering yourself to her comfort and console her, something she desperately needed now. She just wanted to be understood.

At the conflicting emotions flooding through her and overwhelming her confused mind, she groaned quietly in frustration, sliding her hands down her tired face before checking on Vision to make sure he hadn’t woken up, a snore confirming he hadn’t and causing her to swiftly sneak out of the covers, pulling a dressing gown over her shoulders to cover her body as she made her way over to her drawers. Carefully, she opened the wooden furniture as quietly as she could, pushing away the various clothes hiding the small box tucked away at the back, her fingers gently wrapping around it before pulling it out, holding it close to her chest as she slipped out of the bedroom, making her way downstairs to sit outside on the patio chairs.

The gentle glow of the moon was enough to illuminate the items in the box as she slowly opened it, matching polaroids filling it to the brim as she felt tears prick at the corner of her eyes at the nostalgic feeling bubbling inside her, the whirlwind of emotions the photos stirred in her making her exhale a shaky breath. Her fingers trembled as she picked up the first polaroid, a sad smile gracing her lips as she admired the pictures of the two of you, remembering the event as though it happened yesterday.

A click caught her attention as she turned away from the sunset, Wanda’s brow raising at you as you leaned against the pillows in your truck, camera pointed at the brunette as she let her gaze savour the sight of your cocky smile as another click sounded around the car.

“Have you ever thought about modelling?” you mumble from behind the camera, a comfortable silence briefly wrapping around the two of you as you waited for the photo to print out, Wanda’s shy but equally amused smile enough to tell you her answer. You loved how the two of you didn’t always need words to communicate, a simple look, touch, or shared smile was enough as you stared at her, taking in her expression.

“What do you think?” she mumbles sarcastically as she turns around to face you, naturally shuffling her body closer to yours as she peers over at the polaroids you had taken of her without her realising, her green flickering from photo to photo, smiling fondly at the one of you sticking your tongue out whilst she slept on your chest, the peaceful look on her face as she relaxed with you.

“I think you have,” you mumble playfully, encouraging her to straddle your waist as she settles there comfortably, wrapping her arms around your neck loosely as you peer up at her, adoration evident in your eyes whilst you admire every feature on her face. “Because you are the most beautiful woman in the world,” you murmur after a moment, too busy getting lost in those enchanting green, convinced they were hypnotic as you always managed to lose yourself in them.

“Flirt,” she mutters, the blush on her cheeks and the shyness tinting her tone letting you know your words caused butterflies to swarm her stomach, her smile growing that little bit wider as you lean forwards, letting your lips ghost hers whilst your hand moves the camera to the side subtly, waiting for the perfect moment to snap a picture.

“I’m just telling the truth,” you whisper, your free hand caressing her hips whilst one of her hands cup your jaw, thumb brushing over your cheek gently, a glimmer of love briefly appearing in her eyes before she pushes the thoughts away, stopping herself from letting the words spill from her lips at your enamoured look. Instead of confessing, her lips meet yours tenderly, a smile breaking out on both of your faces as she hears the familiar click of the camera, her lips pecking yours once more before she tilts her head to look at your hand trying to balance the camera in a good position, her eyes rolling at your actions and love bubbling inside her.

A single tear fell from her eyes gracefully at the memory, lingering on her cheeks until her trembling fingers reached up to brush it away, to brush away the pain of remembering you brought her as she placed the polaroids down, the smiles on your younger faces almost mocking her for what she didn’t have anymore. She didn’t have you and… she never would.

***

Your eyes drifted from the endless road in front of you as you passed the large metal sign stating ‘Welcome to Westview’, a small smile creeping onto your lips as you returned home after all those years away, your head tilting to the side as soft pants met your ears over the quiet music. Lucky’s tongue was sticking out of his mouth as he waited impatiently in the seat next to you, his golden ears twitching back when he heard the sound of the window opening next to him, his adorable face poking out of the car as you drove through the streets of Westview, nostalgia crashing down on you like a tidal wave.

Every building you passed by dug up unexpected memories, the small town being somewhere you had explored every corner of in your youth either with Natasha or…her, the memory of the brunette causing an ache to settle in your chest, reminding you of how she left a scar on you.

You would be lying to say you hadn’t thought about the other woman, Wanda having consumed your thoughts far more than you would have wanted over the last twelve years, somehow still owning a piece of your heart despite everything that had happened. It still hurt, the words she said to you, they still plagued your thoughts and tormented you, but you tried your best to push them away, to focus on yourself and your life instead of the possibilities you could have had with her, the life you had always longed for.

You knew it was unfair to think about but part of you hoped she still thought about you, that you still haunted her thoughts the way she did yours, a deep sigh escaping you as you shook the thoughts away. No, you wanted her to be happy, to have moved on from you and hopefully find the life she always wanted, even if you still hadn’t found your true place in the world yet, your time in England ending on a sour note.

Before you could even feel bitter about the events of the last couple months, your gaze caught sight of the old convenience you worked at as you stopped at a red light, the way the old building had been abandoned and fenced off completely caused a suffocating cloud of longing to wrap tightly around you, blurring your thoughts together as you yearned for things to go back to the way they were, for things to have never changed and forced you to grow up. You wanted to be young and in love again, to have no care in the world as you drove down the streets in the middle of the night, singing your hearts out like you were the only people to exist. You wanted to feel free again.

It was wistful thinking and you knew it was, an almost mournful expression taking over your face as your youth slipped away from you like a melody fading in the distance, your thoughts drifting away from you until you heard the car behind you beep as you hadn’t moved, the light now green. You apologised by raising your hand and swiftly driving, keeping your gaze focussed on the tarmac in front of you instead of the memories picking away at your thoughts, trying to stay concentrated on making your way to your new house.

The rest of the car ride passed by smoothly, your thoughts trained on the brief traffic surrounding you and the music softly spilling from your speakers until your new truck pulled up into a large driveway, your gaze taking in the house you had just bought. A small sense of hope and excitement bubbled inside you at the idea of a fresh start, at the fact you were home, a genuine smile stretching across your lips as Lucky’s tail starts to wag, ready to get out of the car and explore his new home.

You secured the car and opened the door, the golden retriever eagerly hopping out and sniffing around the grass nearby until he eventually followed you to the front door, your fingers digging through your pockets to find the key as you heard a few raised voices next door, your gaze briefly flicking over to your neighbours house and watching as a blonde man stormed his way out of the house, dressed up smartly and looking as though he was late for work. You were curious as to what had happened, your eyes watching his tense movements until it looked like his head was turning your way, your gaze snapping away immediately, not wanting to intrude. Instead of staring, you twisted the key in the door, deciding you would introduce yourself to them at a more suitable time as you let Lucky run into the house, his tail seeming to never stop wagging as he ventured across the house, the boxes in your car waiting to be unpacked.

***

A heavy breath left you as you carefully placed down another heavy box, your hands wiping away the sweat building on your forehead as you panted slightly, your eyes taking in the sea of cardboard boxes filling your living room, the occasional sound of Lucky’s squeaky toy filling the quiet house as he played in the other room. After bringing in another box filled with various items, you decided to take break, walking through to check on the bundle of fluff as he sat on the rug you had just set up, your eyes rolling as he had an expensive bed literally in the corner of the room to sit in before making your way through to the kitchen, grabbing yourself a drink to refresh yourself.

The cool water was pleasant as you sipped it, your feet naturally taking you to the window at the front of your house as you stared out into the neighbourhood, taking in the few houses you were near. You briefly tried to guess things about the people who lived in each house to pass the time, your gaze inevitably drawn back to the house with the arguing couple earlier, a puzzled expression taking over your face. You weren’t sure why you had this pull to them, why you were so desperate to know more about them, the curiosity eating away at you as you continued to stare for a moment, getting lost in your thoughts when some movement caught your attention, your hand placing down the water as you observed her.

Her auburn hair stood out to you, her slender fingers pushing back her locks tiredly as she locked her door, her face hidden away from you as she turned to walk down her drive, her body language clearly defeated. A small wave of sadness trickled down your spine at the woman’s despondent figure as she climbed into her car, waiting for a moment as she collected herself, clearly struggling with her home life before starting the car, something undecipherable clouding your thoughts as she drove away, almost leaving you feeling alone.

You sympathised for the mysterious woman before pushing away the strange sensation stirring in the pit of your stomach and the odd sense of familiarity she caused before deciding to take a longer break from unpacking and take Lucky for a walk, part of you wanting to see how much things had changed and admire places that were still the same, needing something to distract you from the image of your neighbour.

A nostalgic smile was engraved on your face for the next forty minutes as you strolled down street after street of your old home town, your eyes taking in the way old stores you would visit had changed or refurbished, your feet subconsciously taking you towards Natasha’s old house, knowing that Melina and Alexi still lived there. You smiled fondly at the familiar house, memories of how you would sneak in and out of the window at the back making you chuckle, the stupid rebellious things you and the redhead did without people knowing, always amusing to you. You continued down the street, going past the old hideouts you shared with Nat where you drank for the first time, smoked for the first time, got high for the first time, doing all sorts of things together before you had to leave. Your smile dropped a little as you remember how hard it was to leave her, the two of you staying in contact as much as possible but struggling to as life inevitably got in the way, responsibilities and adulthood taking precedence.

After exploring a little more, you started to head back home, taking the quicker route as the two of you were growing tired and eventually found yourselves back on your new street, watching mindlessly as a red car drove passed you, only concentrating on it once you saw it pull up into the drive next to you, your curiosity peaking.

The sight of two young brunette boys jumping out of the car made your brows raise a little, the way their wide grins and elated expressions were directed in your direction as you passed their drive, well, more Lucky’s direction as they ran down the path to say hello to the golden dog.

“Can we say hi?” One of the boys said, his tone polite but clearly laced with excitement at the presence of a dog, Lucky sitting down, body wiggling as his tail wagged, knowing he was about to be fussed about, his tongue hanging out his mouth almost comically as the boys grinned at him.

“Of course,” you say softly, crouching down next to Lucky and lowering yourself so you were at a closer level to the boys, smiling at them as your fingers ran through silky fur, “He’s extremely friendly.” At your words, the brown haired boy who asked you the question immediately reached out to pet Lucky, the other one clearly more timid as he slowly let his hand approach the golden tufts on the dog’s back, his smile tugging up that little bit wider at the soft feeling. You couldn’t stop the chuckle that escaped you at the first boy gushing over Lucky, the boy’s hands squishing his face up adorably as he looked around as though he was in a dog’s version of heaven, the attention making his tail somehow wag even more as you watched tenderly at how the boys interacted with your pet.

“You’re just so cute,” he mumbles as his small fingers play with fur, your hand motioning for the boy to offer his hand out to Lucky, knowing he’d immediately offer him his paw to hold. “That’s so cool!” The boy continues as he shakes Lucky’s paw, his smile practically reaching his ears as excitement bubbles wildly inside him, his teeth on show as he grins, having fun until the sound of his mother interrupts the moment.

“Dorogies, come on, we need to go inside,” their mother shouts from the front door, stepping down the drive to find out what had distracted their boys so much, the corner of her lips lifting up at the sight of Tommy shaking the golden retrievers paw, Billy’s mouth stretched into an elated grin as they interacted with someone, her gaze eventually landing on who they were talking to.

Twelve years of sadness, longing, hope and hurt crashed down on Wanda at the sight of you, the whirlwind of emotions crashing through her almost stealing her breath away as her smile dropped, disbelief evident in her eyes along with a conflicted look, the expressive green unable to hide the confusion coursing through her. It couldn’t be you, you couldn’t be here. She had hoped for this moment for years, dreamt of being with you one more time and having love and affection wrap around her heart tenderly, but now that you were here, crouching at the end of her driveway and looking at her boys with a soft look, she desperately wished she’d never see you again. She couldn’t cope with this, the way you stirred up all those buried feelings again, the way you made those feelings real again. It was as though the emotions that tormented her for over the last decade were a mere ripple compared to the tidal wave that crashed down on her, the sight of you a constant reminder of everything that had happened, a reminder of everything she wasn’t supposed to want.

The guilt, the regret, and the heartbreak echoed around in her mind as she stared at you, a pained expression engraved on her face as she felt her throat tighten like it did all those years ago in the empty car park behind the convenience store. She didn’t want to relive it, she didn’t want the emotions that she let fester deep inside her flood through her, to make it impossible to do anything other that long for what she had in the past with you.

Why did you have to come back?

At the sound of an angelic voice, you lifted your gaze away from the two cheerful boys, tilting your head up to gaze at the woman who had captivated your attention since you arrived, the curious expression and playful smile on your lips washing away immediately at the sight of those green eyes you could never forget.

The world around you faded away, the chatter from the twins a distant murmur as your mouth parted in shock, the sight of a familiar but changed face staring back at you with an equally broken look stirring something deep within your gut as you kept your gaze locked on her eyes, the green still just as hypnotic as you remembered. Gazing into her eyes was enough to tear open the stitches on your heart you spent years trying to heal, your mind feeling overwhelmed as you didn’t know how to feel.

You wanted to feel happy, to smile at her as you had missed her. You’d missed staring into those captivating green, getting lost in each shade and swirl whilst feeling the smooth and soft strands of her hair between your fingertips as you played with them or tucked them behind her ear. You missed the way her smile and gentle laughter blessed your ears and eyes, the way such a simple movement stirred such joy from you, just being with her, just being able to admire her was enough for you. You missed her, fuck, you’d missed her from the moment you said goodbye.

Despite how you partly wanted to feel happy, you couldn’t, old wounds brutally resurfacing as your mind flashes back to the day everything around you fell apart, to when you had to stand and stare at the woman you loved and learn that she was too scared to ever love you, that she didn’t think you were worth the risk of loving. It tore you apart, it tore you apart then and it still does, the memory of the pain that seared your heart crawling down your spine as you offered her a look that conveyed every single emotion you felt.

Her expression only added to the hurt and agony wanting to drown you as she looked at you as if you were a ghost from her past coming back to haunt her, an old dirty secret nearly revealing itself. It broke you, to still feel like a secret as she looked to her boys, trying to keep her voice composed, to hide the tremble in her words as her gaze inevitably flickered back to you.

“We need to go inside now, Dorogie,” She mumbles to the twins, trying to quickly place a mask over her conflicted face before her children notice as well as trying to cover up the small glimmer of disappointment at the way their faces dropped at having to say goodbye to Lucky and yourself.

“Can’t we stay a few more minutes?” Tommy complained, hugging Lucky as to try and convince his mother to give into his wish to play longer, her eyes struggling to stay off you as your expression dropped, her pain evident on your face unlike hers.

“No Tommy, come on,” her voice holding no room for debate as a stern motherly tone tints her words, the twins swiftly saying goodbye to Lucky before waving goodbye to you, a small smile quickly lifting your lips for them before dropping, watching helplessly as she slowly starts to turn away from you, the boys running off into their house.

“Wanda,” you call out without even thinking, her name falling from your lips after all these years and odd sensation, your voice making her pause, turning briefly to look at you, your eyes seeing straight through the mask that was rapidly crumbling away before you.

“I’ve got to go now, I’m sorry,” is all she says before turning her back on you, your form standing at the end of her drive despondently as you watch her walk away from you, tears building in the corner of her eyes. Helplessly, you let the ache in your chest grow with each step she took, the pain amplifying as she shuts the door, trying to close herself off from you and the longing look in your eyes as you stand there, trying to repair your heart once more all alone.

[kayesfanfics]

Being in Love With Rogue (Unrequited) (Fem! Reader)

A/N: Sorry yall but she’s my girlfriend, I fought Magneto and Gambit and won and now I kiss her every night

Warnings: Unrequited love, ANGST

Oh, it was so obvious to everyone in the Mansion how much you looked up to and adored the feisty southern Belle. She was absolutely beautiful, so strong and independent, never took any shit from anyone, and very headstrong and opinionated, what was there not to like about her? She was perfect, except…she was with Gambit, her soulmate. You couldn’t help but hate the swamp rat, wanting to be in his place so badly. Everyone could sense your feelings about the two of them, everyone except for Rogue herself. When you saw them kiss, you had the leave the room because of the anger boiling in you, and the sharp sting to your heart knowing he could touch her but you’d never be able to

Luckily almost everyone in the Mansion knew exactly what it was like seeing the one you were in love with love somebody else. Well, except Jean and Scott, but everyone else. Morph would sometimes make jokes about it, Wolverine would tell him to shut up and leave you be, Storm would rest a hand on your shoulder in silent comfort, Beast would say some intelligent quote you didn’t quite care about. You’d never fully quite come out to the team as sapphic, but it was painfully obvious and they accepted you without question. Jubilee and Roberto would often ask why you never told her your feelings for her before she had gotten with Gambit, but you never could answer them. Maybe you were too shy, too afraid of what she’d say, you didn’t know. But you knew she wouldn’t truly want to be with you if she couldn’t touch you, no matter how badly you wanted her

“Don’t worry kid, you’ll get over her soon enough.” Wolverine would say

“Maybe Gambit will turn her gay soon, who knows! He has awful guy habits.” Morph would quip

“To burn with desire and keep quiet about it is the greatest punishment we can bring ourselves.” Beast would quote

“Perhaps you should talk to her, get some of it off of your chest.” Storm would agree

None of it helped, you couldn’t bring yourself to make her love life more complicated after all that Magneto and Gambit drama she had dealt with a few months ago. You didn’t need her to know, you didn’t see any point in it, nothing would change for you. You’d excuse yourself from your friends and go to your room to wallow, still feeling hopelessly heartbroken after watching Gambit dip and kiss her in the middle of the basketball court

Gambit was fully aware you had a crush on his girlfriend. He wasn’t upset about it, he knew exactly how you felt, but you refused to talk to him about it or let him help you in any way. You were bitter and jealous of him, even if he was nothing but chill and nice to you. He did make an effort not to flaunt his relationship too much in your face, but he couldn’t help it if Rogue wanted a kiss from him while you happened to be there, it’s not like he’s deny her and you understood that

One day during a mission, things went south and Rogue got hurt badly. You couldn’t stop yourself from running to her to help, only to be beat by Gambit rushing over to help his girlfriend. You forced yourself to refocus back on the attacking Sentinels, feeling your feelings finally boil over and you raged against the robots, blasting them to bits and punching them far after they were down. You finally stopped when your knuckles bled profusely and tears overflowed your eyes, making you sob into your hands in a pile of broken machinery. You heard Morph and Jean trying to get your attention and ask you what was wrong, but you had been bottling up your feelings for so long you couldn’t hold them back anymore

“Y/N? What’s wrong, sugah?”

You looked behind you to see Rogue standing with some of the others, concern warping her face as she held her injured arm. You stared at her pretty face for a moment before quickly wiping your face and standing up, feeling like an immature child in front of them all. You whispered a quick “nothing” before attempting to leave, only to be stopped by Rogue grabbing your shoulder

“Y/N, we used ta be best friends! You can tell me! I don’t know what changed, but I want ta help ya!” She pleased with you, the other X-Men taking the hint and shuffling over to another area to let the two of you talk. Gambit made eye contact with you and gave you a nod, before joining the others out of earshot

“R-Rogue, I…I can’t tell you!” You cried out, dissolving into tears yet again right in front of her

“Of course ya can! You could tell me ya loved my boyfriend and I’d still listen!” She sat down with you in the rubble of the fight, tucking some of your messy hair behind your ear. Your breath hitched at the comment, knowing she was very close to being correct

“That’s uh…sorta the problem.” You finally admitted, looking down at your lap on shame. “Except…cept it’s not him I love…”

Rogue stared at you in confusion for a moment, before everything clicked in her head. Oh. That explains why you distanced yourself from her, stopped sharing everything with her, stopped coming to her when you needed someone, didn’t want to be friends with her anymore…

“Oh, Y/N.” She sighed, raising a hand to hold your chin to make you look at her. “Honey, I had no idea. I just thought…I didn’t realize. I’m so sorry. If I had known I wouldn’t’a been so…I’m so sorry!” She tugged you into a hug, her own eyes tearing up

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I just…I didn’t want to complicate things for you even more. I didn’t want to be a burden on you.” You shyly hugged back, your first hug in what felt like forever. You buried your face in her fluffy hair, breathing in her scent and holding onto her tightly

“You could never be a burden on me, sweetie! I should’ve seen it, now that you say that it was so obvious! I didn’t mean to ignore you or make you feel like I didn’t care about ya! I do! I love ya! Just…not in the way ya want me to.”

“That’s okay, you don’t have to! I shouldn’t have been such a baby and just told you, woulda saved me a lot of heartache. Storm was right about that.”

“Aw man, did everybody know but me?” She laughed, pulling away and wiping her eyes of tears

“Kind of.” You giggled, wiping your own tears and smiling up at her

After that mission, your friendship was mended and you went back to telling her everything and going to her if you needed her. She was more mindful of PDA around you and didn’t talk to you about Remy unless you were okay with it (you were especially okay with it when they were fighting and he did some stupid shit). Your other friends were glad to see the two of you finally talking and being the duo you had always been, but you still drank with Wolverine and cried about her to him, who wasn’t fully paying attention to you and probably thinking of a certain red head he loved…

[the-little-ewok]

Enraptured (Poe POV)

Poe Dameron X Fem!Reader

Rating : E / 18+

Word count : 2600 (ish)

Warnings : PIV, fingering, semi-public sex, tiny bit of needy!Poe, sprinkles of feral!Poe, reader wears a dress, lack of self confidence, praise kink, cock warming, fluff, brief mentions of F/oral receiving, a tad of possessiveness in a soft way

Summary: Poe litterally can't keep his hands off you during a party (This is Clandestine... but from Poe's POV ;) )

A/N : It's not necessary to have read Clandestine to enjoy this. It's simply the same story from another (slightly more feral) point of view.

He can't stop his foot from bouncing impatiently under the table, trying anything to distract himself from the way you look, bathed in flickering multicolour lights, your dress accentuating every part of you that he loves.

He has so many regrets about agreeing to come tonight. He hates these types of parties as it is, full of stuck-up politicians, only out for their own gain. But this one, this is so much worse because of you. He can't concentrate on anything, and now to top it off he can't even leave the table because, well, in short, everyone would see exactly what you do to him.

He wants to look elsewhere, he wants to distract himself, but he can't. All he can do is stare at you, imagining the way you would look bent over the table, your dress hiked up high, the plush of your ass against his hips as he presses himself deep inside you, making you scream his name.

Damn Jess for helping you pick that dress. He really must remember to thank her the next time he sees her.

"Stop that," you scold him, for probably the thousandth time tonight.

"Stop what?" He grins at you, licking his lips as his eyes flicker up and down your body for absolutely the thousandth time. He really can't help himself anymore.

"Looking at me," you hiss in response, adjusting your dress.

He wishes you didn't fidget the way you do, like his gaze makes you uncomfortable. You don't see how truly beautiful you are — more than anyone, anything, he's ever seen. Your smile, your laugh, your kindness, your good heart, the way you never take any of his bullshit, the way you make his heart beat just as wildly as flying does. Poe knows he's in too deep with you. He's fallen harder than he ever has. He can't stop looking at you because you're all he can see, all he can ever see these days.

But you, beautiful, sexy, sweet, funny, you can't always accept that. And so the fidget only cements that he wants to show you just how much he wants you, right now.

"I'm admiring," he clarifies, refusing to move his gaze, determined to make you see what he sees.

"Well, admire something else," you answer, refusing to look at him.

Poe almost scoffs to himself. Admire something else? Not fucking likely with his cock impatiently throbbing with need.

"I can't," he leans in close to you, his voice a low hiss. He's genuinely surprised you haven't realised why yet, that it hasn't even been a thought to cross your mind. "You have no idea how much I can't."

He has a fleeting thought about grabbing your hand and showing you exactly what you do to him, but honestly, if you touched him now, he'd probably cum in his pants and ruin all the fun he plans to have with you later.

"Poe."

It's only half a warning. He can see it in your eyes — the flicker of desire. He's an expert at reading you, or at least he likes to think he is, and so far he hasn't been wrong. Maybe he can convince you to leave early. One of you could fake an illness, make your excuses, and stumble back to your room. He reckons he could probably make it as far as the lift before he has you pinned against the wall, your leg held up over his hip, fingers gripping your thigh as you tremble for him.

Kriff, he needed to slow down before he blows his load without so much as a brush of your flesh against his.

Taking a breath to steady himself, his eyes flicker over you once more, reading every micro expression. Yeah, you are starting to want this just as much as he needs it. Bedroom, lift, hell even getting to the door out of here is going to be too much trouble. He isn't making it that far.

"Come sit with me. At least let me hold you," he whispers softly, slipping his hand into yours. Your fingers grip his, warm and soft, suspicion in your eyes. But when he tugs, you follow, allowing him to guide you down onto his lap.

Such a good girl for me.

Your gasp as you sit makes his cock twitch, just the soft friction of your movement enough to start shredding whatever little patience he has left.

"I need you," he whispers against your ear. "I need you, now." He brushes his nose up the column of your neck, inhaling the intoxicating scent of you, wishing he had time, and enough restraint, to climb under the table and taste you before he cums, but he doesn't.

"Poe, we are in public!"

Maybe you are right. Maybe it's time to stop before he gets too far but fuck, he's too far gone. The delicious little wriggle you do on his lap does absolutely nothing to help.

"I can't wait," he groans, his hips rutting against you of their own accord, desperate for any sort of friction. "Please baby, it's been like this all night. Please. I need to be inside you."

He's begging now and he doesn't care. All he can think about is how desperately he needs to feel you soaking his cock, how desperately he wants to show you the effect you have on him, how desperately he wants you to believe you're worthy of it.

Even in the dim lighting, he catches the little smirk at the corner of your mouth. Perhaps you're just a little proud that you can reduce him to this. You have no true idea what you could reduce him to if you wanted to. If you asked he'd get down on his knees and beg you for just a glance in his direction. There isn't anything he wouldn't do for you.

"I'll be good to you," he promises, catching the hem of your dress and dragging it up, splaying his hands against your soft thighs, inching them up higher. "You know how good I can be to you."

You shiver at the touch of his hands and he wonders if your mind fills with memories like his does — back to all the nights you've spent together, your head tipped back on sweat soaked sheets as he worships at the altar of your body.

"If anyone sees…" your voice trails off with a sigh as he presses his lips against your neck, fighting to keep his hands still while he gives you time to consider your position.

"They won't." He's confident in that. If there's one thing he is, it's observant. He knows everyone is too caught up in their own night to worry about the two of you tucked away in a dark corner. The table just about covers your lap, where your dress is hiked up, his hands drifting closer to your hot core. The music is loud enough that nobody will hear you.

They won't see, but honestly, Poe couldn't give a damn if they do. Let them look, let them watch, let them see you are his.

He moves his mouth down your neck, slowly, invitingly, pausing to suck against your pulse point, marking you as his own, his hands pushing your thighs apart. Your pliancy to his actions only fuels his desire for you. He's proud that you allow this, that you trust him to do this. He's absolutely going to make it worth your while. Well, he's at least going to try and last long enough to make it worth your while.

His fingers finally slip between your thighs and it's like his lungs have suddenly collapsed, all the air rushing out suddenly.

You aren't wearing panties. His fingers brush against bare wet, no not just wet, soaked, flesh.

His plan was to gently tease you, make you admit how much you're enjoying this, how much you want this, but somehow his entire vocabulary is erased by the shock.

"Fuck," is all he manages to punch out as he drags his fingers up over your clit, relishing the way your hips jerk in response. He lets out a low whine against your neck as he ruts into your ass, desperate for release.

He swears he almost cums at the gasp you let out when he slips a finger into you. You're so hot. He has to pause for a moment, calming himself as you take a breath of your own, before he finally draws his finger up and over your clit, and then back down, sinking two fingers into you.

"Shouldn't have let you leave the room," he grumbles as you squirm, each jolt of your hips only drawing his attention to his painfully hard cock.

Why did he decide to listen to you about coming to this party? Why did he decide he could wait? Of all the questionable decisions Poe has made in his life, he's putting the one of agreeing to leave the room before burying himself inside you, at least twice, right at the top. Well, at least for now.

He curls his fingers slowly against your walls, his thumb barely stroking your clit with feather light touches, keeping you just tiptoeing the edge. After all you've put him through tonight, you deserve a little payback.

When your wriggling increases and your chest starts to heave with the effort of biting down your moans of pleasure, he licks a hot stripe up your neck, enjoying the way your breath catches and your body jerks.

"Can I fuck you now?"

He waits with bated breath to see how far you'll let him take this.

He'd never push you further than you wanted, never make you do something you're uncomfortable with. If you say no now then he'll wait, as much as it might drive him to the point of absolute madness. At this point, he might just cum in his pants from looking at you anyway.

"Yes," you breathe out, and then you roll your hips back against him. Poe curses loudly, unceremoniously removing his fingers from you and scrambling to undo his pants, every last bit of patience blasted to pieces. Later he'll apologise about the rush, be embarrassed about it, but right now, he has to have you.

His hands grip your hips, probably a little harder than necessary if he was honest, as you take a breath and sink down onto his cock. Poe's eyes roll back and he has to bite down on your shoulder to muffle the moan of pleasure as your walls flutter hot and tight around him.

He realises too late that`s a mistake, and right as his teeth sink into your flesh, your pussy clenches around him. His hips jolt upwards of their own accord, pressing him deeper into you and listening to your choked moan as he fights not to cum then and there.

"Shit baby, don't do that," he warns, taking a trembling breath. "Not unless you want this over really qui-nghh!"

Of course, you do it again. Of course, he should have expected it. But he didn't, and it takes every last bit of self restraint he has not to pin you down over the table and fuck you so hard you'll still feel it tomorrow.

"Stop," he warns, gritting his teeth, trying to think of anything but the searing heat engulfing his dick. "Don't wanna rush this."

You clench again and he growls a frustrated warning. He wants you to just sit still for a damn minute while he catches his breath before this ends too quickly for both of you. But you seem to have no intentions of letting him do that.

Well if it was going to be that way, two could play that game. He was going to drag this out now. Fuck you slowly, deeply, like he has all the time in the world. Poe's stubbornness was the only thing that could outweigh his desperate desire.

He grinds his hips upwards, pressing deep inside you, pulling you down against him as he does, ensuring you feel all of him. Your whole body reacts, and he can't stop the smirk forming on his lips.

There we go baby, take it all for me.

He adjusts just slightly with each grind of his hips until he finds that one spot that makes you whimper. And then he presses against it, again, and again, and again.

Oh, how he relishes in the shivers of your body, the gasps escaping your lips, the beads of sweat rolling down your neck, the clench of your pussy as he holds you still against his lap, forcing you to accept the pleasure, even though he knows he's holding you on the edge of bliss for longer than you would like.

"Good girl, taking me so well," he praises, his voice low against your ear, trying to stop his own breath from heaving, lest you know you could tip him over the edge with one well placed word. "Letting me have you here, where anyone can see us."

The bite of your nails digging into his arms only spurns him on, making his cock throb inside you. He wonders if the marks will still be there tomorrow, something he can admire, something that marks him as yours.

"Driving me crazy in this dress. Lookin' like the hottest fucking thing. Fuck baby, you're so good to me, letting me do this." He knows he's rambling now, but his mouth, as it so often does, is going before his thoughts are connecting. All he can think about is how good you feel, your body pressed against him, anchored by his arms around your waist, your pussy gripping his aching cock as you take all he's willing to give you.

You're so close, he can feel it. Your body is stiff, your nails digging in painfully now, your head leant back against his shoulder, chest heaving, pussy fluttering, whimpering with each slow torturous grind of his hips.

His own climax creeps up far quicker than he's expecting and suddenly he desperately needs to let go. Scrambling to pull your dress up out of the way he presses his fingers against your clit, drawing quick tight circles as you gasp.

He needs you to fall first. He needs to feel what he does to you.

"Cum for me. Cum now," he demands.

Your back arches, your breath catching as you let go of his arms to grip the table, your pussy clenching and fluttering as your climax hits. It's too much and Poe finally lets himself go, burying his moan of satisfaction into your neck, his fingers moving to grip your thighs as you writhe on his lap. He continues to roll his hips slowly, milking every last bit of your climax, savouring each little shiver and whimper until you collapse back against him, boneless.

Even though everything seems hazy around the edges in the post orgasmic bliss, he notices the way your head turns just slightly, checking if anyone has noticed what has transpired.

"Told you nobody would see," he smiles, nuzzling your neck, enjoying the closeness of your body.

"You're lucky," you turn your head to kiss him and his heart jumps. How could there have ever been a time when you thought he wouldn't want you? How could there have been a time you didn't realise he spent every night, cock in hand, thinking about you. How could you not realise he was hopelessly, utterly in love with you?

"I am very lucky," he nods, wishing he could form better words to explain just how lucky he feels. But you're sitting there looking so prettily dishevelled, sweat still drying on your skin, your nail marks in his arms, and he can't think of anything but how much he wants to drag those noises from you again.

"Thanks for helping me take care of that problem." He grins, his hands moving to brush his fingers against the inside of your thighs, slowly inching upwards to where he's still buried deep inside you. "I'll repay the favour later tonight…" he pauses, wondering if you can go again already. "Or now?"

You let out the prettiest noise as his hands creep higher, placing a solitary kiss on your neck. Poe decided that means you need a minute, but he has no intentions of making it an easy minute.

He bites down a groan as his fingers are met with slick wetness, almost halfway down your thighs. Judging by how wet you are, and a small shift of his legs confirms his suspicions as his pants stick to his own skin, there's no way he's moving any time soon anyway.

"I'm sorry baby, but it seems you might have made quite the mess. You're soaked everywhere."

He's about as un-sorry as he can get, his mind already filled with how many more times he can get you to cum before the party is over. How much can you take before it's too much? How many times can he make you whimper? How many times can he make you soak his lap?

You could be stuck here for hours yet, right where you are. The thought makes his cock twitch.

His arms wrap tight around your waist, ensuring you aren't going anywhere anytime soon. He feels you shiver in anticipation as his lips ghost the shell of your ear, a wicked grin forming on his lips.

"I guess you'll just have to sit right there until the party's over."

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

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed please reblog and let me know your thoughts! Remember interactions keep writers writing!

[becasworldsstuff]

Can i please request a romantic Simon Basset x OC/reader fic? Simon being completely in love with her since they were young, but since his father told him to go away, they separated. They met again.

-> Pairings: Simon basset x reader

-> warnings: none

Simon basset and miss l/n had always been friends, thing caused by her bubbly nature that could outshine the sun even in an August day. She was the only one with whom he could talk without stuttering, he felt at ease and nothing could really make him sad if she was near him. Her presence as a reminder that not all in life was sad and angry at him, that not everyone was disappointed in him, on the contrary she never made him feel bad about himself.

When the old duke of Hastings sent his son away due to the problems he was causing to his own mental health, the two were separated, nothing in means of letters or visits between the two for years if not the memories captured together and the burning sensations in the part of their body that the other touched, or the single pink flower dried out inside Skmon's favorite book that she gifted him as a reminder of the beauty hidden behind fragilness. Both the young hearts were left shattered thinking they would never see each other ever again.

But in his drawer were piled up letters written in his best calligraphy and on the best paper money could buy, for his best friend and little piece of heaven, who had been his own safe place in the mess his childhood had been.

It was her who motivated him enough to return to his old house when the man died, and he found her on the steps of his big place, with glimmering eyes and the brightest smile that ever existed. He stopped in front of her with his mouth that had gone dry, she had grown into the most exquisite young lady he had ever seen or imagined to lay eyes on, his eyes widened and his hands were begging for something to grasp onto to not loose balance while she watched him, she took one step forward and his heart skipped a beat. Even if he only realized now he could pinpoint her as the only woman in his life to which he could ever truly love, but he stayed silent, catching up with her like old times, not stuttering like when they were just little kids playing in the garden not caring about duties.

The days passed and the season started, now miss l/n obviously came from a very wealthy family and her kindness and beauty were known upon the society, but this was her first season, and her older brother and father refused to give away such a perfect girl to anyone so, when they catched up with the Duke longing stares they decided to talk to him, a man of honor, well bred, wealthy. Simon never in his life thought that he deserved for his dreams to become reality but he knew he was a duke and her best solution to this world of strange couples, so he was the one to go talk to her father, asking him her hand in marriage and bowing down on one knee with watering eyes as he proclaimed his love to her:

" never had I ever experienced such strong emotions nor strange feelings, my stomach flutters and my troath goes dry as if I was denying myself with water for you, you make my heart stop and the dream of seeing you walk down the aisle to me has been my favorite image for my life. So please accept my undying love for you because I cannot breathe if I'm not near you, neither I can eat or drink or sleep away from you, you are my sun and my moon and every single star in the sky, my whole body was created to match yours and my core only exists to love you and adore you, you make me burn like I was in a fire that cannot die. So please do me the honor and let me make you the duchess of Hastings "

Her response was awaited from the ball room that had just seen him pacing in front of the doors before barging in and stopping the dance that was occurring at the time, she held her breath and nodded slowly while forcing herself to blink as I'd to make herself realize that that moment was true.

[literary-illuminati]

2024 Book Review #44 – The Archive Undying by Emma Mieko Candon

This was a book I went into with no hand holding or preconceptions, and so I very much dove into the deep end of the pool. This is, frankly, a mess - but a beautiful one. There’s a lot to love, a lot of meat to chew on; but Candon’s reach really does exceed her grasp in ways that show, and I cannot blame anyone in the slightest for finding the narrative alienating or hard to follow. But shoot for the moon and you still end up among the stars, right?

The book follows Sunai, a deeply traumatized drifter and guide, who absolutely never got over the apocalyptic collapse of the AI-governed city he grew up in – quite literally, as he was interfaced with the AI-god at the time, and has spent the decades since hiding his nature as a Relic despite his stubborn refusal to age and tendency to heal from all injuries in a matter of minutes. Should his nature be known, he would be conscripted as the pilot and adhesive for a towering killer mech, and used to protect and oppress the new city now growing in the ruins of the old. Instead he fled half-way across the world and spends his days helping salvagers and refugees and his nights on drunken benders. After receiving a letter from his past he goes on a particularly intense one of those, and wakes up having both slept with and accepted a job from Veyadi, a former Archivist of the same AI who he’s clearly already told too much. Despite his heroic efforts to avoid honest conversations or emotional connections, from there he’s dragged straight back into the world of dead gods and killer science.

This is a book that hits the ground running and never stops, without much in the way of care about whether you’re able to keep up. The setting has both history and politics that are clearly important but are never explained beyond the bits that are directly relevant, with the expectation that you’ll figure the rest out through context clues (or not). There’s all manner of words being used as technical terms and basically none of them are ever actually defined. Sunai spends half the book explicitly trying to head off or avoid revelation-heavy or important conversations and, while he might know what topic he’s evading by turning the conversation into a quickie, I at least did not. Which is something I enjoy, honestly – I felt I had a solid grasp on most things by the end, and the world was fascinating (if occasionally absurd) – but I really cannot hold it against anyone who checks out.

The narration doesn’t help, either. Technically speaking, the entire book is told from Sunai’s POV. He merely has an unusually porous consciousness, and so spends a large fraction of the book being directly spoken at by one of a couple different voices in his head, or else semi-conscious and seeing the world through one of several different people’s eyes. When he’s not just outright hallucinating or trapped in a VR simulation, or spiraling into flashbacks (some of which are even his). This I found harder to adapt to and more frustrating, and in many cases felt like Candon was trying to show off and not quite managing it, but when it worked it really did work (the playing with the narrative voice in the second act, especially).

The book’s most saliently about trauma and (failing to) deal with it. It is not especially subtle about how Sunai’s relic nature is just a literalization of how he latches on to the plans and hopes of others to avoid even considering the idea of what his own might look like, and makes no bones about making him the whole thing’s beating heart. The book, then, depends a great deal on how compelling you find him. Personally I found the broken wreck of a man endlessly endearing, even when he was also deeply frustrating to be stuck in the head of.

The book’s other characters fare less well, sadly. The other major characters, despite (or maybe because of) all the time spent looking through their eyes and ruminating on their motives, still end up feeling opaque and a bit arbitrary. There’s only so many world-shaking revelations you can layer on top of each other before they stop having much impact and you stop being that invested in the characters. Ruhi and Imaru especially suffered here, the former for having so many story beats stuffed into him he ended up feeling more like a plot device than a real character, the latter because she felt like the story highlighted her importance to Sunai and general significance and then didn’t really know what to do with her past a certain point. In both cases (and like, this is clearly intentional) you end up knowing quite a lot of what Sunai think of them and not that much about the characters themselves.

Veyadi does better, if not always consistently. His romance with Sunai (osculating between unhealthy coping mechanism FWBs and all-consuming devotion as the story progresses) is another of the book’s main throughlines and it largely worked for me – Sunai’s wilful refusal to accept either of their obvious feelings was well-done and didn’t last quite long enough to be frustrating, and it was always entertainingly unhealthy in one way or another. ‘adi’s character outside the romance is significantly more opaque. Partly for reasons of plot and preserving tension, but still – I ended the book caring that Sunai cared about it, but not really about him for his own sake.

I admit I feel personally let down by the ending less for what it does than what it teases at then fails to do. All that buildup and ominous foreshadowing about losing your identity and being subsumed and synthesized into a greater hole as the walls come down and in the end they and the remnant AI just end up being able to DM each other’s brains. My expectations of a perfect lyctorhood or even some original examination of codependent relationship realized as the literal synthesis of identities, entirely dashed.

The ending in general was also just, well, messy. Too many plates in the air, too much ambiguity and nuance that then needed to be forcefully resolved to tie things off, too much sublime technology and miraculous agency in conflict for the final result not to just feel arbitrary – especially since the neat resolution arrived at makes absolutely no sense at all unless the ‘AI’ in question was actually just some kind of incorporeal demon the whole time. The emotional beats do work, but the result feels like a bit less than the sum of its parts. But then I may need to accept that my standards for a good ending are just impossible for 99 books in 100 to hope meeting.

Still, mess aside a thoroughly enjoyable read and one I’m deeply sad doesn’t seem to have gotten more attention. Though it also definitely doesn’t need to be the first in a series (many such cases, these days).

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Insatiable Girl (S.R.)

Summary: Spencer decides to explore a particular aspect of his girlfriend’s psychology. Request: Reid notices that the reader has a bit of an oral fixation and decides he wants to study it with her a bit further. Couple: Spencer Reid/Reader Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Spencer!POV, oral sex (male receiving), established relationship, body worship (male), fingering, oral fixation Word Count: 1.6k

MASTERLIST

There have been many theories about oral fixations. Although most only know about Freud’s thoughts on the matter, the truth is that most animals experience a period of youth where they seek out something to satisfy their need for self-soothing.

It makes sense. Our mouths are not only how we nourish ourselves, but also how we express our personality. How much of human courtship is performed with the mouth? From a smile to something more… salacious.

When I’d invited my girlfriend to move in with me, I’d already been aware of this aspect of her psychology. It would’ve been difficult to miss. But for all the pleasure it provided, it also brought with it the sweetest torture. Because her fixation persisted even when we were in public.

How many hours had I sat and watched as she worshiped something that would never be capable of appreciating her efforts? How many times had I sat and counted bubblegum bubbles or listened to the muffled clacking of mints on her teeth?

Don’t even get me started on lollipops.

But that day, as we sat in our respective spaces in the living room, she had nothing but herself to use to appease that ever-demanding compulsion. Each time that I’d looked over, I would watch as her jaw twitched while her teeth worked the supple skin of her lower lip.

My heart raced, skipping a beat each time that I watched it slip free. I could feel the slickness of her lips, the pillowy, malleable softness of her. I could taste the sweetness of the firm muscle of her tongue.

My thoughts ran wild with fantasies that I’d had a million times before. But that day, one had made its way through to the forefront.

I stood without warning, but she didn’t seem to mind. At that time, she was too engrossed in chewing idly on the tip of her thumb.

She didn’t look up until I was right in front of her. Even then, she just opened her mouth to speak, but said nothing.

Like a baby bird opening her mouth and pleading for me to provide her what she needed. Mere seconds after she’d removed her own thumb, her eyes began pleading, ‘Give me something more.’

At first, I had to say no. I had my own cruel desires that I’d needed to indulge. I wanted to watch her crumble beneath me until there was no greater satisfaction than giving me mine.

My hand cradled her jaw to stop her from chewing on her lips. Her body rocked forward, her neck craning to be even an inch closer to what she wanted most.

But I wasn’t a complete sadist. I wouldn’t leave her completely unsatisfied. The next time she opened her mouth to beg, I pressed my thumb against her bottom lip. Within seconds, she’d accepted it. At first, she was gentle. She wrapped her tongue around the digit and let out a soft breath from her nose.

Soon enough, though, her desire got the better of her. With both her hands on my hips, she pulled my entire thumb into her mouth. She audibly moaned, as if I had given her the greatest gift.

But I hadn’t. Not yet.

She knew that, too. That’s why she wasted no time unbuckling my pants, all while her mouth refused to relent.

Her mouth had been so warm, so soft. Everything about her was. It set my blood on fire in the best possible way.  I listened to the melodic sound of belt buckles and buttons and indulged in the overwhelming feeling of her lips wrapped around my thumb.

I groaned when I finally felt my pants slacken around my now pressing erection. At the same time, I fought my self-preserving instinct that told me to look away. I knew it would be too much to see her, but I did it, anyway.

That insatiable, darling girl released my thumb from her mouth with a satisfying ‘pop.’ She gasped for breath, puffing hot air against wet skin as she climbed off the couch and dropped to her knees like she was preparing a prayer. She used both hands to pull my erection free and then… she waited.

There was a quiet moment— a silent blessing for what she was about to receive. She closed her eyes as she pressed a small kiss against burning skin.

I couldn’t resist her much longer. She was on her knees, but I was the one begging for salvation.

“Please,” I whispered without even thinking.

Her giggles filled the silence. It was a beautiful sound.

Her mouth was an even more beautiful feeling.

Even though it made my racing heart weak, I looked down at her through half-lidded eyes. I watched as I disappeared between her lips. Inch by inch, she accepted me into the warmth of her.

It was act of love. It was an act of worship.

But any pleasure it brought me paled in comparison to the ecstasy that slipped from the space between her lips.

Truly, she had never looked happier than when her mouth was full. She hummed so contentedly against me that I almost forgot to breathe. I was drunk on her worship, the love that she could only give on her knees.

I felt weak. I felt like a God. I felt my heart beating against her tongue as she wrapped it around my dick. She held me close, as close as she could. With struggling muscles rejecting her efforts, she persisted until she was satisfied. Yet, she was insatiable.

My eyes glazed over as I continued watching myself disappear over and over into her wanting mouth. I tried to follow the patterns of her tongue but got lost in her lustful eyes, instead.

I was bewildered and mesmerized with the way she made love with her mouth alone. I didn’t dare disturb her, although I couldn’t help but fantasize about kissing her, too. I laced my fingers through her disheveled hair and pulled the same way I would if I’d been kissing her.

She pulled away and gasped just before she closed her lips around me again. The sudden burst of cool air only heightened the warmth of her. My body bucked harder against her. Her nose was buried in soft curls at the base of me, but she showed no signs of objection.

Instead, she rid her mouth of any air. She suckled until her tongue was flat against the sensitive underside of me. She massaged the pulsing vein to the rhythm of my heartbeat. She kept going even when it seemed impossible.

My hips drove my cock further into her throat and paid no mind to the muscle’s protests. I reveled in the wetness dripping from her bottom lip.

I forced weary eyes open again to look down at the state of her. Her eyes struggled the same as the rest of her. Her hand buried beneath her underwear undoubtedly dripping the same way as her mouth.

 I wanted more. She deserved more.

With one final thrust against the back of her throat, I took hold of her hair and gave her everything I had. Hot waves of pleasure pooled in her mouth and that darling girl moaned. She was sobbing against the base of me like she had been devastated to see the end of something so beautiful.

When I was finally spent, with heaving breath and a slackened grip, I pulled her off me. Even with the exhaustion, I handled her with all the care she’d deserved. But she was nothing if not fixated.

Not even a second after she’d taken a full breath, she took me in her mouth again. Gently, she cleaned overly sensitive skin to ensure that she hadn’t missed a drop.

As much as it made me ache, I couldn’t bring myself to stop her until that insatiable girl was satisfied.

She released the now softened length with an even softer tongue. My darling girl looked up at me with a beg for something more than my everything.

I wanted to give her more. She deserved more.

So, I helped her up from her spot with shaky knees. She trembled against me, and I welcomed the warmth of her body.

She was my greatest desire. I couldn’t say no to something as sweet as her slightly salty lips. She was so tired, but she didn’t fail to kiss me back. She pushed her tongue into my mouth at the same time I sneaked past the band of her underwear.

She gasped around my mouth, still seeking air without having to let go.

Her dripping heat didn’t resist my fingers. I pressed them into her effortlessly, feeling more of her from the inside.

I was so drunk on the power of pleasing her that I almost couldn’t let her go. I held my fingers down against that rough patch at the front of her walls until she was twitching. I waited for her body to squirm and her lips to break contact with mine before I started to move again.

I’d wanted to hear her whisper sweet nothings against my lips.

“Please, Spencer,” she slurred through swollen lips, “More.”

I’d be damned to tell her no.

I pulled my fingers free from tense walls and placed them gently against the swollen pearl at the crest of her dripping heat. A few gentle, lazy circles was all it took for her to fall apart in my arms.

Still, she kissed me with everything she had. I tasted myself on her tongue and imagined tasting her, too. Something more than the sweetness of her saliva.

Once I was certain she’d had enough, I removed my hand from her underwear and brought it to her lips.

Without any hesitation, she took my fingers into her mouth.

My insatiable girl, I thought, may you never have enough of this.

(Tell me what you thought of this fic here!)

Looking for more to read? Check out my Sub!Spencer oral fic here!

[fairydvsts-blog]

𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬 𝐮𝐩 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥

Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

"i love you" in Taylor Swift's lyrics masterlist

summary; as the summer reaches its end, so does your summer fling with Rafe, however, you have realised that you love him and now you refuse to let him go

warnings; mostly fluff, some angst, Rafe being an asshole at the beginning, a lot of swearing and slight mentions of sex

a/n; english isn't my first language, so you might find some mistakes; I'm open to constructive criticism. Enjoy!

You were drunk, totally wasted. That night, Sarah had invited you to a party at John B's house and it was full of people. Obviously, most of them were pogues, excluding a few kooks that must have crushed the party, however, none of those kooks was the one that you couldn't stop thinking about.

Rafe Cameron

You met Rafe at the start of summer vacation, when you moved to the house next to his and became a good friend of his sister. The first impression you had of him was nefarious, your initial thought being: "God, this guy is a jerk", and yet, you couldn't help but feel attracted to him because of his charisma and good looks.

You tried to keep your distance, though, since you didn't want a guy like him hurting your feelings. He was selfish, self-centered and cocky; that type of guy that would send you to therapy sooner rather than later. But one evening, you two ran into each other at the beach, bought a few beers at some vending machine to drink together and ended up kissing

You didn't realise at the moment, but it took just one kiss for you to fall for him.

And every night after that little rendezvous, you would snuck through the garden gate that divided his backyard from yours just to meet with him in secret. That's how you fell in love with him. You fell in love with that one guy that could tear your heart apart in the blink of an eye.

That was the thrill of loving Rafe, though, one moment you were up, the next moment you were down. Sometimes it hurt, but most of all it was exciting.

Your relationship was down that night, because he had stood you up to go out with another girl. And the worst part was not having the right to be mad at him, since you two weren't exclusive; he made sure to remind you of that at every chance he got, so you had drunk more that you should have to forget about him. You were failing your mission, though, because you couldn't stop checking your social media, waiting for him to post something, anything really, that would calm your anxiety; you just wanted to know if he was fucking her or not.

You refreshed his instagram profile one last time and the pink circle that notified that he had posted a new story came up on screen. Without giving it a second thought, you opened it and you heart sank when you saw the guy you loved kissing another girl.

You downed your cup of whisky in just one sip, before getting up from the log you had been sitting on, and walked towards Sarah, who was dancing with Kiara next to the bonfire to join them. Before you met Rafe, you had never cried over a guy, let alone been depressed at a party because of one —and that wouldn't be the first time you did it. You wanted to have fun; the summer was ending and you would have to return to New York soon, you couldn't let him ruin your last days in Outer Banks.

Sarah and Kiara welcomed you with a big smile and included you in their dance circle. The three of your moved to the beat of music, rubbing your bodies together and drawning everyone's attention, especially from the opposite sex.

Not long afterwards, you started dancing with a cute guy that had approached you, offering you a drink. You had seen him a few times at the Cut when you were visiting the pogues and he seemed nice, so you accepted the drink and agreed to dance a few songs with him.

The dance soon turned into a proper make out session in the middle of the crowd. You didn't even like him that way —'cause he wasn't Rafe—, but you were on the rebound, so you took what you could get. You heard your friends cheering you, oblivious to the emotional roller coaster you were going through; you hadn't told them about your relationship with Sarah's brother, so they didn't suspect you were acting like that because you were heartbroken. You wanted to keep it that way, though.

After you let go of the guy —whose name you did not know— a drunk Sarah approached you while laughing. She just showed you her phone screen, where a picture of you kissing that stranger could be seen.

"Look! You are so cute together!" she said.

You laughed too and then, out of the blue, you had a brilliant idea.

"That's a cool pic. Post it, babe."

It really was a cool photo, but that was not why you wanted her to post it on her instagram stories. You wanted Rafe to see it. You wanted to make him jealous. And it worked. Only five minutes later, he was blowing up your phone with texts, voice mails and calls. You answered one of them with a smile on your face just to tease him a little, but he wouldn't give you the opportunity to do so.

"Where are you? l'm coming for you," he told you immediately.

"What? No. l'm having fun with my friends. Leave me alone, jerk," you answered, walking towards the drinks to get another one.

"Are you drunk?" He was surprised; you weren't the type to get wasted at parties.

"It's none of your business, asshole," you shouted after drowning a tequila shot.

You didn't even bother doing the salt and lemon thing and you almost puked in John B's front porch.

"Go fuck that blonde you stood me up for."

"Baby," he sighed, "I'm gonna find you whether you tell me where you at or not, so let's make this easier."

You ignored his request. The image of him sucking off that blonde's face was stuck in your head and was making your blood boil.

"Shut up, Rafe, you're an insensible piece of shit," you accused him, "I wish we never met."

You hung up the phone, leaving him speechless. Of course, you didn't mean what you said, you had spent the best summer of your life with him, but you were drunk and furious, and you weren't thinking straight. You regretted what you said right after, so you took another shot to handle the guilt and then returned to the improvised dance floor to keep dancing.

He wouldn't let it go that easily, though. Fifteen minutes later, he appeared at The Chateau and looked for you until he found you dancing with his sister. His heart started pounding in his chest when he saw you; you looked beautiful that night, well, you always did, but there was something about you being tipsy and carefree that made him smile like crazy.

He made his way through the crowd, without taking his eyes from you, and grabbed your hand when he reached you; his action catched you by surprise so you couldn't resist being pulled away from your friends. He dragged you to his car despite all your complaints and insults, letting your hand go when you arrived there.

"Get in the car please," he asked nicely, opening the passenger's door for you.

You were far too drunk and exhausted to fight with him, still, you were so stubborn that you sat in the back of the car just so he didn't have it his way.

You heard him sigh before he opened the driver's side door and entered the car. He started the engine in complete silence; before you knew it, he was driving you home.

"Why are you mad at me, baby?" he asked a few minutes later, his attention focused on the road.

"Why?" You laughed sarcastically, "You had fucked another girl, Rafe, am I supposed to be happy about it?"

"We aren't exclusive, we both agreed on that when we first started this," he said, and he was right.

Actually, you were the one who came up with that idea, but you did it just because you thought that it would prevent you from falling too hard for him; apparently, you were wrong.

"Things have changed now," you admitted.

You felt a tight knot appear in your throat, but you resisted the urge to cry. If you showed weakness in front of him, he would realise that you cared too much. He would know how you truly felt for him. He would hold your heart in the palm of his hand, and he would have the power to crush it anytime.

"Are you okay?" he asked, looking concerned.

Despite your efforts to hide your tears, he had noticed your eyes were watering a little bit.

You said, "I'm fine."

But it wasn't true.

"Baby, what's happening? You can talk to me," the tone of his voice was calm, yet worried, and you couldn't hold back your emotions anymore.

You bursted out crying.

"I love you, idiot! That's what happens!" you shouted, sobbing, "And you're so self-obsessed that you haven't even noticed it."

He looked up grinning like a devil. His eyes staring right into your teary ones through the rear view.

"Baby, stop crying and listen to me, please," he requested, with a smile so big that it lighted up his whole face, "I feel the same way," he recognised and your heart skipped a beat.

He pulled over, getting out of the car and opening your door to face you. He gently grabbed your cheeks so he could wipe away your tears and pressed a little kiss over your lips, which were salty due to all the crying.

"I love you," he repeated, making you smile but you couldn't stop sobbing like a baby; your thoughts were all over the place.

To help you calm down, he entered the car and placed you on his lap, holding you in his strong arms. You hid your face in the crook of his neck and the rich scent of his expensive perfume clouded your senses; you relaxed instantly.

"I haven't fucked other girls since we got together," he whispered, stroking your hair slightly, "I couldn't do it, because you were all I could think about."

"But tonight..." you started off saying, but he interrupted you.

"Yes, I kissed her because I thought you didn't feel the same way about me," he explained, pushing you away to look at your face, "I thought you would forget about me as soon as you got back to New York. I just didn't want you to break my heart."

His words sounded honest, and you could relate to that feeling. You had been feeling like that since you realised that you loved him.

"I can't forget about you, trust me, I've tried," you recognised, "I was scared too, that's why I didn't tell you," you traced his sharp jawline with your thumb, staring at his mouth.

You were dying to kiss him.

"There's no reason to be scared anymore, is there?" he murmured so close to you that his lips caressed yours.

"Not as long as we're together," you answered.

After that, you finally kissed him, revealing with your lips all the secrets you had kept during that cruel summer.

[autisticrosewilson]

You have any Wilson family headcanons to spare? Especially on Rose & Grant?

DO I EVER!!! Gosh where do I even start

I mentioned to a friend of mine the other day that I think Slade was a leash kid, and I stand by that whole heartedly. He wanted to raise Grant as a leash kid too, simply because he thought you were supposed to, but Adeline threatened his life so it never happened. This was the first of many times he was confronted with the concept that maybe his home life wasn't great.

He would not even begin reflecting on this until almost a decade later. He still doesn't really consider himself a victim and honestly most of his shitty parenting comes from him just having no clue what he's doing. He's aware that he's bad at it, but instead of trying to improve he just tries to avoid his kids in hopes that they'll be better off without him.

Also he grew up in 1950's-60's Appalachia, I think he's more superstitious than he lets on. I imagine he grew up hearing about family curses and old wives tales, and while on some level he recognizes that Fran likely just used those stories to cope with the situation there's also a part of him that believes it for the same reasons she did. He's not a victim, he can't be, so it must not have been abuse. Which eventually turned into him just kind of accepting that he was always going to be a bad father, that there was never a chance for him to have a family and any attempt he makes will just end up worse than the last.

It makes it easier to maintain his self imposed isolation that way.

Adeline is a lot more interesting than people give her credit for. I like to think she was born and raised in a big city like New York or maybe Gotham if I wanted to be funny. She was definitely a wild child, and that was something that didn't change during her first marriage.

I truly do believe that Count whats-his-face (I don't care enough to look him up) tried exactly once to hit her and he ended up with three bullet wounds that all knicked arteries. It was his only warning and he was smart enough to know that.

Addie is loyal to the end, she's the kind of person that steadfastly refuses to let go of people she cares about. In basically ever version of her story she tries, she tries so hard to make things work. I once compared her to the Greek myth of Medea and I think about the comparison often.

I also think that Adeline was always her father's daughter, whether she liked it or not. I don't remember if it was canon that she was raised primarily by her dad but I only remember her dad being mentioned so I think she grew up in a single parent household and was mostly left to her own devices as a kid. She probably grew up really close with her cousin, most people probably thought they were sisters.

Mayflower fucking HATES Slade, she was advocating for the divorce before they were even married. I know in my heart she was Slade's biggest hater. Her and Slade talked mad shit about each other but they were also gossip buddies for the longest and it was the only thing that stopped her from beating his ass all the time.

SladeAddie is so toxic Bi4Bi coded. Really funny to me that Addie was probably older than Slade, do you know the kind of rizz you have to possess to bag a milf that could kill you in 20 different ways before you could blink? One who's already been divorced? What charm was this freshly 18 year old drop out exuding to be pulling like this?

When do you think he told her that he lied to the recruiter about his age and he wasn't actually 23 or whatever? Did he ever tell her? Did she figure it out herself? It was literally never addressed but I think about it all the time.

Slade is definitely still mildly in love with her and falls a little all over again every time she deals him grievous bodily harm. I don't know his thing for people who hate him is probably a self conscious way to punish himself for sucking all the time.

Billy and Alfred being friends is a headcanon that I literally never stop thinking about. Why wouldn't they be old friends or whatever? They have tea the 4th Tuesday of every other month. They complain about their respective morons and brag about the kids they have to take care of because their morons won't.

Billy is definitely a British rock fan and he fucking HATES country music. Slade starts playing it in the car and Billy threatens to crash the whole car just to make a point.

He's like maybe 5 years older than Slade if I'm being generous about it, he just looks older next to Slade because he's not hopped up on super serum.

He's the one Rose gives her father's day gifts to <3

SladeBilly is canon to me, no way Slade is capable of spending that much time with someone without sleeping with them at least once. It might be the healthiest relationship he's ever had with anyone and Billy barely tolerates him.

Lilian Worth my beloved,,,,,,they gave her such a white ass name. I choose to believe that she changed it later on for anonymity. Chea Nath is a name she hasn't used in a while, but it's still one she holds dear.

She seems like someone who was really into ballet, and probably someone who was really good at it too.

She's one of those characters that we don't really have any information on, which leaves a lot of wiggle room backstory wise. I probably write too much about characters with poor backgrounds (surprise your bitch grew up impoverished) so I guess I'll let Lili have this one.

Diplomats daughter, her and her mom were really close growing up, and she seems like she grew up with sisters. She's got that middle sister energy to her, growing up everyday was a fight and let's just say she didn't lose often.

If Adeline is Medea, Lili is definitely Circe. Versatile, powerful, a man hater, and she'll do anything to protect her girls.

Honors student, her grades never dropped below an A- and she has degrees in everything from fine art to communications. Rose went to college purely because her mom made it clear that not going was not an option.

Grant is one of my favorite characters. Ever. He's definitely an old school country enjoyer, much to Billy's chagrin and Slades secret delight.

He was the boy who climbed up the tallest trees to prove he could and then came home with a thousand little scrapes on him.

He has a bee allergy.

He's the least enhanced of his siblings but he still has a meta gene, I think the reason the H.I.V.E. serum didn't activate it like it should have is because his power was the mental kind and not the physical kind so his body couldn't hold up against it even while his psychic powers were getting stronger.

Painted his nails one(1) time, it was a dried up iridescent blue that Addie dug up and was going to throw away but Grant wanted to try it. He didn't know what nail polish remover was though so he scraped his teeth on his nails to get it all off but he couldn't get all of it and he almost cried so hard he threw up at dinner that night because he was scared of Slade noticing (Slade didn't notice and wouldn't have cared if he did).

Thought he was SO stealthy when he snuck out but literally everyone knew because he always came home smelling like weed, hungover, and he went to school in the same clothes he wore to go out. Most of the time Addie didn't care (See above: "former wild child") but Slade "Biggest loser in his hometown" Wilson always had an issue with it.

Officially his tomb is located in the Kane family plot but he's actually buried in Slades hometown next to his grandmother. (Adeline is not aware of this)

Joey was actually the one who pulled most of the pranks when they were kids, but Grant always took the fall. Mostly because literally no one would believe it even if Joey said he did it. Which he tried to do, many times.

Grant taught Joey to make flower crowns but he never admitted it because he thought it made him look weak. He still keeps the few that Joey made for him though, they're basically turning to dust in the drawer he hid them in to this day. They're one of the few things that weren't torn down and shoved in the attic after his death.

Joey still celebrates Grant's birthday every year, him and mom play The Last Man by Clint Mansell on the piano because it was his favorite piece to play before he stopped because it wasn't "cool".

Grant tried to get Joey to come with him when he ran away but Joey didn't want to leave Addie. Joey ended up moving into Grant's old apartment, he often thinks of what life would be like if he'd taken up the offer.

Grant is THE ass hole big brother from the late 90's/early 2000's. Down to the mullet and the shirt with the sleeves cut off. He used to steal Addie's eyeliner and she would get so mad because that stuff is EXPENSIVE and he's just smearing however. She teaches him how to do it properly but he says it makes him look "too girly".

Grant's picture is the only one in Slades wallet because he doesn't have to worry about putting him in danger anymore.

DON'T let Joey's "natural" pretty boy look fool you he has a 20 step skin routine and a 15 step hair routine and he wakes up at the ass crack of dawn to start on his makeup.

He used to get the worst acne as a pre-teen and he has physically burned all the evidence except for one picture of him and Slade on a fishing trip when he was like thirteen, he doesn't know it exists and it's the only picture Slade consistently travels with.

He doesn't want to be the favorite but he would get mad if someone else was the favorite because what work were YOU even putting in for it.

He has 12 year old boy humor I fear. Giggles at dick jokes and has used his name to make "Joe Mama" jokes on various occasions.

Number one Mama's boy of all time, there's not a single time they've gone out in public together where they haven't had coordinated outfits. Him and Addie call biweekly to shit talk people and exchange recipes and the like.

Joey is THE biggest gossiper. He'll talk shit about people right in front of them if he's sure they don't know ASL and whoever is around just has to try not to laugh while they "translate" him.

He's so good at convincing people to do things for him just by looking at them with his big ol' eyes. And he's a theater kid so his expressions are really exaggerated.

Rose, my muse. I know canonically she's a smoker but I'm changing that to her being a vaper. I don't know she just looks like she'd beat the shit out of you for a cherry lemon cancer stick.

Energy drinks don't work on her in normal amounts so to rectify that she constantly walks around with horrific concoctions in a water bottle the size of her head.

She street races as R4V4G3R and she's pretty good at it. She learned a lot about cars doing it which is how Slade justified being an anonymous benefactor for her.

The few weeks Slade had her she ran that shit like the navy. Up at 6 AM on the dot, tight ass ponytail swaying as she got ready for school. She was out that door by 7:25 everyday and she would MAKE Slade violate traffic laws to get to school by 7:35.

Has bitten people before and will do it again.

Had the BIGGEST crush on Donna Troy when she was on the Teen Titans. She didn't know it then but she did. Her taste in women really hasn't changed at all.

Only has her grunge thing going on when she's planning on meeting people, average day outfit is all pastels and florals that her mom used to pick out for her.

Got pretty much all of Lili's stuff, her main apartment is always Immaculately decorated. She also lives in L.A. because literally fuck New York. She's trying to get her engineering degree in PEACE.

She looks up to Grant a lot, she really only has Joey's account of things and he only tells her the good stuff. How he was brave, and strong, and funny. When she was younger she really wanted to be like him, but that was the last thing Slade wanted. So obviously she named herself Ravager out of spite.

Rose is the shortest one in the family but she's buff as hell, my girl is built like a fridge and she knows it. Joey tried to rest his arm on her head one and she stabbed him. It didn't go through his armor obviously but it did leave a mildly annoying bruise that he pouted about for a week.

She low-key really likes Addie but she tends to stay away because of the whole "child of infidelity" thing. She HAS threatened to call Addie on Slade multiple times.

Grew up with a bunch of other kids so she never really wanted siblings, but she would kill for Joey. She'd like a sister though. Really misses her cousins and aunts from the brothel but doesn't want to put them in danger by talking to them.

She's fond of kids but wouldn't want her own because she doesn't want to bring a kid into the kinda life she has, or their family in general.

Routinely takes jobs from Slade because she knows full well he won't do shit. And she's right every time he makes it into a team up that usually ends with them fighting but sometimes, every once in a while, they do something nice together and it makes her remember why she wanted to find him so bad when she was 13.

I don't like her carving her eye out for Slade I thought the whole concept of her idolizing Slade was fucking stupid. She tolerates him at best. So I like to attribute it to her visions, I think the blind prophet symbolism is really fun. Especially because then we can have a Prometheus type situation where her eye patch keeps switching sides/sometimes she's not blind because she keeps carving them out in fits of Seer Madness™️ but they keep regenerating.

SHE HAS BROWN EYES HER EYES ARE BROWN I KNOW HER PERSONALLY PLEASE LET HER KEEP EVEN ONE OF HER ETHNIC FEATURES I BEG!!!

[good-griief]

Time ; Acceptance

third and final chap of my "time" series! i really hope yall enjoyed it cus angst is one of my fave things to write. i didn't want to drag it out too much but i was thinking of doing one-shots and some au's of this idea, so if ur interested in that, i'd be glad to know!

warnings ambiguous relationship between abby and reader, reference to romance, implications of unrequited love (it's not), she/her reader, lasting effects of torture to reader, morally grey reader, ambiguous/story-teller dependent interpretation of major past event between characters

tags @frogtits1 @sawaagyapong @augieee21 @sunkissedbibi @eden-nox

part one part two

part three on ao3

Ellie looked over the pictures she took from Leah as she and Dina sat in the theater, pausing at the sight of someone she didn’t recognize. “Who’s this?” She asked, picking up the photo. California was written beneath the picture of a girl and a younger-looking Abby, clearly candid as they leaned against one another by a bonfire. She flipped over the picture. Soon, was written with a heart next to it. 

“Dunno.” Dina swiped a few pictures over to her girlfriend. “There are a few of her.” 

Ellie looked them over, seeing Leah had written and scratched out Santa Barbara on one before scribbling hearts on others. Finally, there was a recent one. Your name was under the picture of you two together, and on the back was a small note. Finally back home was all she read before she stopped, realizing how personal it was and tossing it aside. It had nothing to do with her, and she refused to feel bad about anything pertaining to these people. 

Abby found the pictures in the theater after finding Mel and Owen, taking them and stashing them in her bag. 

She knew you’d seen Leah. She had the pictured proof of it, but she was hoping that night you would tell her why; tell her why, and tell her why, again, you didn’t stay. 

“Just fucking stay here, then!” Your squad member had yelled at you, already being scared that you were so injured and now scared that you’d be leaving, when you debated whether or not to go and speak to your old friends. There was a tightness in your chest, stomach twisting as your heart raced to the point that it felt like one continuous, loud beat. This was all so familiar, but you weren’t going to leave this time. “Go back, see if they’ll take you in, but don’t come crawling back to us.”

You didn’t even have the option. 

“What’s the verdict?” You asked one of the other medics back on the island after he looked over your recovering injuries; still having a severe pain in your stomach and hip that made you nauseous, flaring up to the point that it was debilitating at times. 

It scared you; not being able to do your tasks. What if there was no use for you? Where would you be then? Alone?

And again by your own design. 

He gave you a look. “You’ve got some pretty bad damage.” There was a big, splotched bruise on your stomach that hadn’t left in the days you’d been recovering. “Could be internal… We can’t have you over-exerting yourself. You’re our best medic.” You scoffed at that, nodding. “No more patrols, alright? At least, not until we can do something about this.” 

It’d been months of this now, and you still weren’t better. You had a feeling walking around was making it persist, but you couldn’t just stop working. You refused. Even if it was killing you to do so— figuratively, of course. 

Because of how distracted you were by that, you hadn’t noticed Abby’s distancing. You would set out a pouch of anti-poisons and poultice ingredients for her each time she went on patrol, but you hadn’t noticed she wasn’t taking them until they began to pile up. 

You sighed, putting them in a basket to take to her. You hadn’t realized how heavy these were, as you’d been loading them up just for her, but you went ahead and began walking toward her and Lev’s home. 

You hadn’t realized how far it was, but by the time you got there, you were feeling sick. 

You knocked weakly, Abby not even realizing someone was knocking until you did again. She came to the door, surprised to see you. She couldn’t help the small smile that came to her face. You smiled back, but it faltered almost immediately. “Come in.” Abby stepped aside. “Are you alright?”

You sat down on her couch, setting the basket on the coffee table as you exhaled and held your hip. “Fine,” you forced. “You haven’t been picking up your pouches, so I thought I’d drop them off.”

Abby shut the door, coming over to you and kneeling. “Let me see it.”

“It’s just a cramp—“ 

Abby pushed you to lie back on the cushions, moving your hands and frowning at the clammy feeling. “Do you have a fever?” She asked, making you put your forearm to your head. You shook your head, but she lifted her arm to your head anyway. “God,” she muttered, moving to lift your shirt. The bruising was still there, still red, purple, and unfading. “What happened?” Her hands went to the cramping muscles in your abdomen, massaging to help break up the bruising and making you cringe in pain. “I’m sorry. It’ll help.”

“I know,” you sighed. “It happened back in Washington; your leader questioned me with some… weapon,” you said vaguely. “It’s just muscle bruising.”

“This looks like internal bleeding.“

“It was.” You sighed. “But it’s been like this for months. I’d be dead if it were internal bleeding,” you laughed out, though Abby didn’t find it funny. “The bleeding stopped before we left Washington. That’s why we stayed a few days longer; when I saw Leah.” Abby nodded along, her hand now resting on your stomach in a comforting hold, thumb running slowly over your skin. “That feels nice,” you mumbled, making her look down at her hand. 

“Does it?” She was holding where the deepest part of the bruising was, right above your hip, your sentiment concerning her more than it should. “Did you hurt your hip?”

“Maybe on the trip back. Overexursion.” You nodded. “Sprain, or something.” 

She frowned. “You should’ve just come back. Mel would’ve treated you.”

“They wouldn’t have waited for me.” You shook your head. “I didn’t want to have to go back alone— and don’t say I could’ve stayed. Not there.”

“I could’ve gone back with you.”

You didn’t realize that was something she might’ve wanted, making you pause and look down at her. “Would you have?”

“We all would’ve.” She pulled down your shirt, standing and getting you a bag of ice. “And even if they didn’t… I would’ve. If you asked, I’d go.”

“No you wouldn’t,” you huffed, laughing slightly. She sat next to you, holding the ice against your hip and pressing down to aid in compressing. She scoffed at you, shaking her head. “What? You would’ve just left?”

“For you? Of course.”

You grimaced, swallowing harshly. “Don’t say that.”

“What?”

You shook your head. “You have no idea what kind of guilt would burden you after doing something like that.”

There was a beat of silence. “I know how you felt,” she started, letting you hold the ice now that you were in less pain and seemed to be able to move. “Or feel. Even if you won’t tell me, I heard you say it… And I’ll be honest, I was angry that you left; that you were alive. We all were. But not at you. Never at you.” She kept her eyes away from yours, staring into the dead fireplace across from the two of you. “Just that… you couldn’t speak to us— And after what we did—“

“What you did?” You frowned over at her, shaking your head and objecting before she could continue. “I left—“

“The things we said—“

“No, Abby,” your voice was firm, wavering, but firm. “I left. That was my choice. When my friends needed me— when my family needed me, I wasn’t there because I left you. What I did,” you enforced with a tone she’d never heard directed at her from you before. “That is why I couldn’t speak to you.”

There was a long silence, Abby’s breath shaky as you sat back with a wince. She knew you shouldn’t be having this conversation right now, but it seemed like this was the only conversation the two of you could have.

And she just wanted to speak to you. 

“I still would’ve left,” she concluded; a complete dismissal that made you scoff out a dry laugh. “I don’t care what you say; what stories you come up with to blame yourself.” You shook your head at her stubborn attitude. “I still would’ve left for you… And the only thing I’d feel guilty for, is caring about you more than I ever cared about anyone else.” You stayed quiet, letting her know she’d gotten your attention. “And I’m not asking you to feel the same—“

“Don’t do that—“

“—Or to change how you feel…” She spoke over you like you hadn’t even opened your mouth. “But I am asking you to understand me.” You knew she was choosing a time when you were vulnerable to come clean on purpose, making you grimace as you reluctantly listened to her try to get you to do the same. “Because you do know me, and you know that I would leave for you, even if you wouldn’t do the same for me.”

“Fuck you, Abby.” At your quiet voice, she knew she’d gotten through to you. Past your false passiveness and down to what you tried to hide from everyone. But you couldn’t hide from her. “I left for you.”

And she couldn’t from you. 

“Don’t go there.”

“No, really.” You forced yourself to sit up and face her. “If this is what you want to talk about, then fine. We need to, anyway. No placating, no pacifying, nothing. Let’s talk.”

She took in a deep breath, turning to face you as she pushed herself to the other end of the couch. “Well?” Was all she said. 

“Tell me the truth.” She immediately rolled her eyes; immediately got defensive. “That night, you wanted me to leave. Didn’t you?” You spoke slowly, meeting her eyes. “That’s why you feel so guilty; why you won’t let me. Because you wanted me to leave, and I knew that, and actually left.”

She was quiet, staring you down. “I thought you were going to leave.”

“Abby—“

“How many times do I have to say it—?”

“I know you. That’s what you just said.” Your tone became hostile quicker than she could process, making her look away. You knew she wasn’t telling the whole truth. “So I know you wanted me to leave. I shouldn’t have, but that’s why I left, and you know that, and you regret it…” You spoke firmly, words clear and cutting into her with every pause you took to emphasize them. “So just tell me the truth. Please.”

She was quiet for a moment, chest tightening as she grimaced. “If you were going to leave, I wanted to be the one to decide that we wouldn’t see each other. I already told you that.” She tip-toed around the question, earning nothing from you and making her more on edge. “So, yes, I wanted you to leave. I wanted you gone for suggesting you go.” When you let out a breath of satisfaction, she continued over you. “But then tell me the truth. You weren’t planning on us going with you. Were you? You were suggesting to go alone.”

“You know me so well,” your tone was dry, mocking and almost demeaning. It was a blow to the chest, making her bite her tongue. “There was no point in suggesting you go, but I was. Even though I knew you wouldn't have gone. All you wanted to do was find him—“

“I would’ve gone in the middle of the fucking night and left eveyone else if you asked.” Clearly, the demeaning tone of your voice was too much for her, her tone biting without a second thought as you continued to push her to get the full truth before you opened up, too; why she wouldn’t just let you take the blame for something that was so clearly your fault.  

“No you wouldn’t.” You were pushing for an argument now, tone lazed and grating on her nerves. 

She always let things slip when she was irritated. 

“You didn’t fucking ask. How would you know?” She was quick to say, feeding off your dismissive tone. 

“You would’ve left Owen. Really?”

“For you?” She laughed at your naivety. “I’d do fucking anything.” She shook her head. “But you wouldn’t ask me to—”

“And Joel?” She shook her head, shrugging. You did the same, shaking your head at her. “You wouldn’t have left them— him? No fucking way.“

“That’s where you’re wrong.” You scoffed. “I would’ve left as soon as you brought it up, and I would’ve made everyone go with us, if that meant you wouldn’t fucking leave—”

“Oh, and you’re not angry at me—?”

“Fuck you.” 

You laughed in response, shrugging. “You’re the one that wanted me gone—”

“And everyone blamed me for it!” You shut your mouth at her exasperated response, looking over her flushed face and glossed eyes. “They all knew if I didn’t say anything, you wouldn’t have left… And they all knew you wanted to leave, so they blamed me for letting you.” She paused, a thick swallow bobbing in her throat. Now, you were getting somewhere. “That night; when you looked at me… I just wanted to give you the choice.” She blinked rapidly, but couldn’t control the way her voice broke, “I wasn’t telling you to go.” She spoke over you when you went to comfort her, “I would’ve told you to stay if I knew you’d already decided,” she got out quickly, shaking her head at herself when she felt her eyes burn.

Somehow, you always got her this way. Even if she thought the conversation could go her way, you always found a way to get to her. 

“If you hadn’t fucking said anything—!” Jordan pointed an accusatory finger at Abby. 

Just as they’d flipped on you, they were doing the same to her. They’d all been on her side last night, but suddenly she was at fault. 

“Fuck off, Jordan,” Owen huffed out. “You were being an asshole.”

“And you weren’t?”

“Why don’t we just stop arguing and go find her?” Abby suggested, exasperated. 

“Like she’d come back,” Leah scoffed. “Just let her go.” She was flippant, shocking everyone. “What if we find a body? What are we going to do then?”

“What the fuck, Leah?” Nora scoffed at her. 

“I’m not the one that said anything to make her leave in the first place,” she bit back, though she wasn’t immediately blaming Abby and instead looked between Nora and Mel. “And now you wanna go find her?” She then looked at Abby, scoffing at her avoiding her gaze. “Go fuck yourselves.”

“You’re not any better,” Mel said. “You didn’t say anything.”

“Yeah? And what did you say, huh? Just go if you want to? What the fuck did you think—?”

“That’s enough, guys,” Owen spoke up, stopping them before they said anything else they’d regret. “She wanted to leave, so she left. It’s not anyone’s fault. It was a choice. Clearly, she decided to leave before she even brought it up.” Leah rolled her eyes. “I say we just go. We don’t know where she went, and we can’t track her.”

Abby could understand why Leah was the one you could speak to. How you could open up to her, and admit to her what you wouldn’t to the rest of them. She understood, but she still wished it was her. 

She wished she could get to the gentle, comfortable part of the conversation without arguing first. 

But that would never happen until you were honest with each other. 

And that always took a fight. 

The conversation had taken up so much emotional energy that you were in physical pain by the end of it; it continued on past Abby’s admission until she heard you tell her exactly how you felt. Just admitting it to her got you choked up, and seeing you that way did the same, but now you were holding the ice pack to your stomach as you curled up on her couch. 

“Fuck, let me help.” Abby quickly got up and blinked away the feelings you’d just brought up, reaching out as she sat next to you and pulling you into her. There was really nothing she could do to help, but she told herself she was warming you up by holding you— helping tense muscles relax. “Try to relax.” She took the ice from you, setting it aside and pulling you closer. 

You tried to even your breathing as she rubbed your back, but it only made you more upset. “I shouldn’t have started an argument. I’m sorry,” you muttered.

“I think this one was necessary,” she laughed, soothing you as you pressed your ear to her chest. “Even if you hate arguing, you were right. We needed to talk about it, and we never would’ve gotten here peacefully.” You laughed at that, wincing as you did. “But that doesn’t matter… What can I do?”

“Just…” You sighed, rolling your eyes at yourself. “Lie with me? You’re warm, so it… helps the muscle relax.” It was true enough, but Abby knew better. She knew you got scared when you were injured, and she knew being held helped. 

Despite how you mocked her for one wrong judgment, she did know you. Even now. Still. 

What she didn’t realize was how her embrace felt as comforting as it did when you were younger, not like the first time you hugged her— when you hardly recognized her touch. Even if you recognized her then, you recognized her touch even more now. The work she’d done to regain her strength brought feeling back to it. A lively, gentle feeling. 

“You think you can walk to my room?” She asked tentatively, grabbing the ice pack as she stood and helped you up. You nodded, and despite her not believing you, she kept her arm around your waist and walked with you. 

You looked down the hallway, huffing at the impossible length of it and forcing yourself to keep going until you faltered. Abby caught you quickly, scooping under your legs despite your protesting of “I’m fine” and carrying you the rest of the way. 

She lied you down on her bed, making you lie flat to help the muscle stretch before lying with you and opening her arm for you as she set the ice aside. 

“Now that you’re being all nice to me,” you said after a moment, earning an eye roll. 

“I wasn’t being mean,” she countered. 

“Why would you leave for me?” You asked as if she hadn't spoken. “Help me understand that.”

“I wanted to be with you. I told you that—“

“But why?”

She didn’t respond for some time, staring up at the ceiling. “You know why.”

“Abby,” you sighed, defeated. “Just tell me.”

She looked down at you with a frown. “Why do you need me to tell you?”

“Because, it doesn’t make any sense?” You scoffed at her, moving to sit up, but she held you down before you could cause yourself anymore pain. “I know how you felt about Owen, and I know how you feel about me. It’s not the same.”

“So you understand why he broke up with me then.” She laughed at that, as if it was the funniest thing she’d heard all day. You frowned. She hadn’t even told you that yet. “In the end, after seeing you that day, he wanted to come to Santa Barbara and find you too, but I guess he couldn’t understand why I held on all those years.” 

“What do you mean?”

She pursed her lips, pushing herself up and going to her closet. She supposed it was her turn to show you all her keepsakes now, as she’d finally gotten them all back from the boat. 

She emptied her backpack onto the bed, Leah’s polaroids and her old photos falling out. Books and folded up maps, too. Even an old journal. 

You grabbed Leah’s pictures first, a smile coming to your face when you saw the one you took together. 

“I know it’s a weird question, but can we take one together?” She’d asked after giving you pictures of your friends, to which you gladly agreed to before she had to leave. 

You flipped it over, seeing the note she wrote and swallowing hard. 

Finally back home

Again, I wish you’d stay, but I know why you can’t. 

I don’t want to either. I don’t want to keep fighting. 

I’m afraid that I’ll be gone before I get to see you again, but I’m glad we got this. Whatever it was. 

Who would’ve thought that a few hours makes up for a few years apart?

You set it aside, lips pursed as you looked through the rest of them, all with notes just as feeling as that, some even sounding angry at the rest of your friends. 

You looked to the maps, unfolding one and finding a small picture of you and Abby taped to it. Dots littered the paper, connected in a pattern that led to a circle around the picture, taped over central California. The next map was the same, towns being written out  with information beneath them. The handwriting changed with each of the maps, getting clearer and clearer as Abby got older. 

The last one was empty, only a picture taped to it. 

The books had passages underlined, some annotated to show to you, or that you’d like them. 

The last was her journal, binding cracked and worn but not because it was old. Because she’d written in it so much that the pages were worn, even teared with how hard she pressed into them, emotion sinking into the ink and through the pages. 

You opened it to the middle, another photo falling out; one Abby had taken with Leah’s camera. Just of you. 

There were entries upon entries, letters upon letters, and this one was the one you just had to open to. 

It spanned for pages; pages, and pages of just one letter to you. One letter, pouring her heart out to someone who couldn’t— no, wouldn’t even reciprocate. 

Your conversation, the one you turned into an argument for no reason other than to prove yourself right, replayed in your mind. 

“I would’ve left.” For you. 

“I’d do anything.” For you. 

“If you’d ask me.” 

“You wouldn’t ask me to.”

“If you asked, I’d go.”

You stared down at the book, her words repeating and repeating and making your vision blur as you finally took them in. “I’m not asking you to change how you feel.” That brought you closer to understanding, brows knitting together. 

Even if you’d mocked her for it, she knew you well. 

She knew you well enough to know you were finally letting yourself understand. She took the book from you, replacing it with her hands so she could pull you close, holding you to her chest just as her words sunk into your heart. 

A blow to the chest. 

I’m not asking you to feel the same. 

[junglefurytrash]

>Climbs through window >Falls over

Hello Jungle Fury Fandom (all 10 of us) I come baring gifts of ramblings and headcanons!

So I believe that the three stripes of Pai Zhua represent the three core traits that help with determining (partially) what makes a Pai Zhua Master (which also helps to explain why the trio jump to concluding that about themselves in Welcome to the Jungle Part 2, because this was in their teachings). - Casey is the Strength, an important trait in a leader. He's able to take hits for his teammates, he's able to get back up and keep going even when getting hardcore beat (he's the first to get up and unlock Jungle Master Mode in Ghost of a Chance Part 2, and also shakes off Stingerella's poison oddly well), and he has the strength to see his own desires come true (like being a Master and saving Jarrod). - Theo is the Brains, though I'd honestly more say he is both that and Courage. As much as he is greatly intelligent and skilled, a good planner and multi-tasker, a lot of his arc involves him needing to find courage to face his own flaws; Being able to accept defeat/failure, being able to focus on the present and his own self-worth, accepting that he can't be good at everything he does, and stepping out of his brother's shadow. - Lily is the heart, kind, empathetic, and grounded in her humanity. She's always looking out for the others and showing concern for their health and wellbeing, she (unknowingly) hears Camille out and gives them an outlet for their distress, and always does her best to see the good in people when she can. She wears her heart on her sleeve for the world to see and even when it gets hurt she doesn't stop having faith and compassion in her friends.

This is our trio who eventually were the Chosen Protectors, the Chosen Trio "who are the only ones that could defeat Dai Shi".

BUT!

I would like to make the argument that this trio can be completed by other characters.

I raise you: Casey, Camille, and Jarrod.

Initially my brain went to this sort of "layout" for lack a better term. - Casey instead is now Brains/Courage. As the Red Ranger he's needed to think quickly and efficiently, come up with strategies, and take gambles he predicted would pay off. But alongside that intelligence he's also needed to be brave and have courage, most notably facing the monster in his closet as a child (which you can also read as him finding the courage to come out the closet), and finding the courage to chase after Jarrod and save him. - Jarrod is the Strength. Probably the obvious place to put him in this trio, he's the Lion, the strong one, the king of the jungle. Dai Shi chose him because he was powerful, and he proved he could be; Even before gaining any of his later powers while possessed, he defeated his opponent and was able to knock down Mao in Welcome to the Jungle Part 1. When it comes to his own metaphorical strength and self-resolve, the guy was able to eventually face his own demons, expel Dai Shi from his body, and fight back against him - He needed a support system to build up that strength, but he found it and found himself. - Camille is the Heart of the trio, again a bit of an obvious initial choice placement. While she can come off as cold to some, she always seeks for her feelings to be reciprocated by somebody, to love and to be loved. It was her who refused to give up on Jarrod first, and it was her who's love and dedication (first to Dai Shi, then to Jarrod) that allowed Jarrod to gain a foothold in getting out of Dai Shi's grasp. She was to him, above all else, loyal, doting, and compassionate, the only one beyond Lily she dared show her Heart to.

But then I realised, that these three can be swapped around and can fit all three of these core traits!

Jarrod remains the same in his position as Strength, while Casey and Camille can be swapped. - Casey needed to learn to love himself for a majority of the season, learn that he WAS a good leader, that he couldn't be replaced, and that he was his own strength - Ultimately, it was him listening to his heart that made him go after Jarrod, and him listening to and understanding Jarrod's own heart and what the man was going through when confronting Mao. - Camille meanwhile was the strategist of Dai Shi's people; She was the one who came up with nearly all the plans against the Rangers, even if they never properly succeeded. Hell, her own Animal Spirit trait is that she is "Cunning"; She's crafty, able to deceive and trick, and that takes intelligence (also she does the newspaper crossword, which is equal parts point proving and amusing, and the fact she can understand cloning and genetic engineering during Maryl and the Monkeys indicates she is highly intelligent). But Courage also applies to her as well, as she had to learn to be able to take a stand against her own side, the people who were very abusive to her, and leave a toxic environment to be with people who loved her. Plus, she chose the Phoenix Spirit as her Phantom General upgrade, and what did Casey himself call the Phoenix Spirit in Super Megaforce? Brave and Resilient.

Another switch up I found worked was Casey remaining Strength and Camille remaining Brains/Courage, but Jarrod being the Heart. He is a man capable of a great amount of love and good morals; As a child he refused to cheat, he refused to fight back and break code, and he refused to let The Fishers lose their farm and did his best to help them. And though his heart became tainted enough to let Dai Shi in, he never lost it; Just as Camille reached out for Jarrod, Jarrod reached out for Camille, able to break through Dai Shi's stranglehold to be able to save her when she was going to be destroyed. Dai Shi always taunted and convinced Jarrod that he had the Strength, but not the Heart of a Lion, and Jarrod was able to prove him wrong and prove to be a noble and good man.

Additionally, what about Camille being the Strength of the Trio? While she wasn't the strongest of the series, she proved to be a great force in her own right. She was always striving to be stronger, always striving to prove that she was capable, protecting Dai Shi from the likes of Naja; That eventually was REWARDED by Dai Shi by giving her the Phantom Beast General position. If she had been weak, she wouldn't have been his right-hand woman in the heirarchy of the temple to begin with, much less be able to reach General. And in terms of personal strength, she learned to find the strength to stand up for herself and make her own decisions, predominantly in trying to help Dai Shi by reviving Jellica on her own accord and standing up to the Overlord (she only caved when Jellica was directly hurting Dai Shi/Jarrod, her Heart's key weak spot), but more importantly when Dai Shi was siphoning Jarrod's power and hurting him, and Camille found the strength within herself to finally stand up to Dai Shi and follow her own path (to the point she absorbed and reflected an attack back AT Dai Shi in the final battle, more on that later).

And then what about Jarrod as the Brains & Courage? When it comes to smarts, Jarrod & Dai Shi were always looking for ways to become one step ahead of whoever was opposing them: Using Naja's life talons to revive the Overlords, seeking out ways to master Zocato and then immediately remembering and seeking out the Rhino Nexus upon Master Mao saying just a word, creating a test for the Phantom Beast Generals to prove he wouldn't be backstabbed agan, and immediately knowing that Scorch was c ompletely bullshitting him when they said they didn't know where Camille was nor what happened to her (that is especially key for Jarrod). His Courage is partially tied to his metaphorical strength in how he fought off Dai Shi and eventually expelled the Spirit - Namely the fact that he had to find the Courage within himself to stand against him for a final time, and take the gamble that he trusted would pay off in weakening the Dragon and surviving.

It was never about just one trio of "Chosen Protectors". It was about two intertwined trios of Chosen Protectors, one able to make the cracks in the stone wall that the other could then take advantage of and destroy.

If anything, though, I think there was never a definitive "Three Protectors". I think they ALL played a part in Dai Shi's defeat. It always confused me why 10,000 years ago they needed seven Masters (Mao, Guin, Lope, Rilla, Finn, Swoop, and Phant) to SEAL Dai Shi, and yet they needed only the Chosen Three Protectors/Masters to DESTROY Dai Shi forever??

But then I thought about it, and. It wasn't just Casey, Lily and Theo who destroyed him. They FINISHED him, but they didn't do everything. RJ and Dominic attacked in the Wolf Pride and Rhino Warrior Mode Megazords. Camille struck at him when Dai Shi went to attack Casey, Lily and Theo, absorbing and sending back his own power against him. And Jarrod launched himself at Dai Shi and blasted him with his full power from the inside.

Casey, Lily, Theo, RJ, Dominic, Camille, and Jarrod. Seven.

Seven individuals with enough Heart, Strength, Brains, and Courage in their Spirit to vanquish the Dragon.

Feels poetic, in my opinion.

[crimsonlyinglilly]

Day 1: food / risk / overexertion

Also covering Day 10 - exhaustion

Starting another another month this time with @augustofwhump.

Entangled minds- Sage comes across a witch had has Finn's soul and mind linked to the one closest to him. it's not hers he's attached to. Elijah and Finn are forced to get closer.

Finn and Elijah discover a new effect of the bond and Finn realised their plan to kill Klaus may work but will have consequences he doesn't want to face

Takes place tvd from ep 2x19 to 2x21

----

Elijah was flagging, for all his prefect mask and control he couldn't hide it from Finn since they shared a mind. 

The time daggered, tricked by the newest doppelganger and Finn wasn’t going further into his brother’s relationship with those that shared Tatia’s face, had revealed a unfortunate side effect of the spell that had bonded them, one far worse than the lack of privacy they have both been trying to hold the pretence of.

When Finn had noticed the pain and Elijah’s shock and anger at the dagger he had been terrified to find himself back in the dark trapped awake in his own body or perhaps Elijah’s instead he had experienced nothing until the dagger was removed to Elijah choking from being in a house without invitation.

It wasn’t until his brother managed to regain his breath on the doorstep that Finn noticed there was more than just the lack of air that was causing his heart to beat too fast. Finn had found himself in control of the body suddenly as soon as Miss Gilbert caught up in the doorway with the damned dagger in hand and his brother retreated into his mind.

Finn was very familiar with the fear Elijah hadn’t been able to completely hide from him; it was just strange to feel it from Elijah.

It seemed Elijah had gained Finn’s cursed awareness in his stead.

For all his resentment of his siblings, Niklaus and Elijah most of all, he wouldn’t have wished that on any of them. Elijah least of all now since he had become Finn’s only escape over since the spell. 

However with Elijah retreating into his mind he had left Finn to explain their history to the girl, part of him just wanted to leave the town and her to her fate because Klaus would come for her but he knew if he did that Elijah would simply return once he regained control of himself and suppressed all his feelings.

One of the many things Finn had learnt was Elijah took repression to a new level when it came hiding his own emotions and thoughts.

He’d have never known Elijah’s loathing of the monster's mother made them match his, or that Elijah was almost as self destructive as their other brothers.

He may have been the only one to know Elijah was petty and spiteful behind his manners and kind façade but the fact he had started a relationship with Damon Salvatore solely to spite Finn for taking over his body at Sage’s touch was a reminder to the stubborn brat his brother once was.

Something Finn had apologised for, he had been overwhelmed at her being so close and crossed one of the few rules they had set, but Elijah had felt the need to teach him a lesson by ensuring Finn was the one to wake up the morning after in the Salvatore's bed.

Then again no one sane based a plan to remove the leadership of a sect of vampire experimenting humans by trapping them in a room and setting himself on fire.

But it was then Finn realised he wasn’t the only one gaining anything from the spell that connected them.

Elijah had felt oddly pleased at Finn’s complaints and concerns, it had taken Finn moments to work out what the warm feeling for what it was, then they had both refused to talk about it. Elijah's thoughts had brushed it off as loneliness after half a century split from his family and Finn had accepted that.

Better than the truth that Elijah had missed his older brother and Finn had failed to be one since the younger ones were born.

After that Finn had stopped holding back his complaints and concerns at Elijah’s habits of skipping meals and sleep, as Elijah seemed to do whenever it came to his projects most often tracking down any hints of where Klaus had left Finn’s and their siblings coffins.

It was highly hypocritical given how Elijah was with their siblings but it had left Finn to realise it wasn’t wholly new as his own memories revealed how often he used to find Elijah staying awake during that first century, either sitting up for them to return or to check them in their sleep.

Finn will ignore how often he only noticed when he had woken from a dream of their childhood when Elijah’s breathing would falter in his sleep, and gone looking for him.

There was also how little he remembered seeing Elijah drink, more concerning since now he knew Elijah’s thirst for blood apparently outstripped his own, had always given how confused Elijah had been at his concern over it.

So he had explained the truth of their beginnings to the girl that had stabbed them; Klaus’ true parentage and the reason she was the target, mostly using what he had gathered from Elijah’s memories when they had first run into her, to tell her of Katarina.

He hadn’t quite been able to cover his coldness when he noticed the charred remains of the suit Elijah had been wearing and figured out the reason behind it.

Someone had tried to set his brother on fire and Elijah would have been awake for it, the only reprieve would be if Elijah suffering was like his he wouldn’t have felt it just heard the flames cracking on his flesh.

Not that Elijah was willing to speak about it once he had retaken control of his own body, he had ignored every attempt Finn tried. The only sign the whole thing had shaken him was when Finn had asked how he was going to explain it to Klaus to prevent him from daggering him, Elijah’s thoughts had frozen overwhelmed by terror for seconds.

Their brother had gotten far too used to using the weapons their enemies made against them and Elijah had helped too much in the past while Finn had been trapped, voiceless and forgotten. Something he knew Elijah felt guilty about since Klaus had claimed to have thrown them into the ocean and more so since he had learnt Finn had been awake for centuries.

Finn’s anger at Elijah had cooled when he felt the weight of his brother’s guilt, horror and self loathing.

Now he was mostly just saddened by how mother’s spell, nine centuries of guilt and chasing Klaus’ redemption out of desperation for his own had broken Elijah in a way he refused to accept.

Elijah had once been free-spirited, open and kind, honest in a way that used to drive father mad, now every word from Elijah’s mouth had layers to them and every breath was controlled.

Elijah took the news of the Martin witches' demise with annoyed disappointment discovering a broken tool instead of that his allies had been killed trying to free him. Finn took comfort in the fact that Elijah still cared enough that when he left to retrieve the potion to preserve the doppelganger’s life through the ritual, he didn’t contact any others for risk of costing them their lives like the Martin witches.

It was a small glimpse into the person that cared for people beyond their siblings, and Finn did not go looking through his brother's mind to find out if it was Henrik's death, the deaths of his friends in the werewolf pack at father’s hand or Tristan's betrayal that had caused that change.

So Finn had watched as Elijah pushed himself on the chance to save the girl who looked like his first love and ignored the signs of overexertion, given that the plan was to attack Klaus at his weakest Elijah didn’t need to be at his strongest and it was clear Elijah was trying not to think at the end goal of the plan.

Niklaus dead. 

The first person to love Elijah without grief coated every action, dead at his hand. The way Elijah was going he’d likely pass out after it, from missed sleep and skipped blood, to avoid thinking of it longer.

When they were finally able to confront Klaus he wasn’t surprised to feel Elijah tremble as his hand broke through Klaus' chest, even as outward appearance showed Elijah cold and calm, Finn felt all of Elijah’s hesitation. 

Elijah didn’t want to do this.

But Elijah was stubborn and this plan had come to them years ago when they realised they couldn’t find the coffins while Klaus was determined to keep them from Elijah. To save Kol and Rebekah at the cost of Klaus.

‘Put them first for once.’ Finn had used those words to push Elijah forward and was now regretting it. 

He knew if he let Elijah do this, if Elijah killed their brother it would only be a matter of time until Elijah, ever resourceful, found a way to follow him in death, likely only staying long enough to free the rest of them.

Finn couldn't risk that, not the little brother Freya had wanted to meet, not the only one of his siblings to accept Sage, not since he had shared his memories of her making Elijah to only other person to remember her.

It only takes a simple push to leave him in control of Elijah’s body standing over Klaus, his brother’s heart in his hand, Elijah allows it and Finn uses Elijah’s exhaustion to knock him out so he wasn’t aware of what followed, it wasn’t a true sleep and as Finn used his body Elijah would still be as exhausted when he woke but it gave his mind a break, something Elijah wouldn’t give himself.

As angry at Niklaus as he was for leaving him in that box, he wasn’t prepared to lose two brothers, not after nearly half a century getting to know Elijah in a way he hadn’t when they were children.

Elijah had struggled under the role of the oldest, a place he never should have had but with Freya gone and Finn to blind to notice any of his siblings' difficulties past his own and too stubborn to care for them, Elijah had done so.

Finn had watched as his parents pushed the tasks to Elijah and failed to notice as Elijah forgot how to ask for help.

Now it was time for Finn to take the role he should have and with Elijah’s centuries of experience accessible to him he would succeed in watching out for Elijah as well as the others. 

He’d just have to deal with Klaus and while he didn’t have Klaus’ attachment to Elijah to work for him, he had centuries being trapped in the coffin listening to Klaus complains and knowledge of Klaus’ precious Elijah that he didn’t.

He also knew if he did this Klaus would feel the need to punish Elijah, it was up to Finn to ensure it wasn’t a dagger.

[just-a-thing-still-alive]

i can't help but think how that's kyomami (especially the 'you are not permitted moral distance) to me because in canon they're literally "i survived a codependent homoerotic friendship" it's not asecret that kyouko has looser morals (in a "loose morals but more "sense) than mami, but that it didn't start that way at first, she was very similar to early sayaka with heroes and justice and stuff and mami seemed the perfect hero, so kyouko tried to be like her of course they had their breakup but the thing about "your soft hands are just as bloody as mine"

it's that mami isn't so different from kyouko post-breakup, at least when looking at the consequences of their actions when kyouko went back to her home turf, she got full survival mode, and any magical girl that passed through her territory was more often than not not kindly asked to go away she beat up nomad magical girls, magical girls with no territory that often have trouble finding a stable supply of grief seeds and well magical girls are resilient, very resilient, but they're also very fragile, one bad enough day and poof they're a witch now and well, how many magical girls that kyouko beat up, for no other reason than because she could, or because it was her territory, ended up becoming witches or dead i'd say quite a few in a few years that's not to say kyouko is evil or anything, but she has some blood on her hands plus you can't tell me she hasn't killed a magical girl at some point, magical girls fights are vicious kyouko has blood on her hands, she knows it, she acknolesge it, she doesn't shy away from it, she survives then there's mami mami is powerful very powerful and that along with the nature of her powers help her take down magical girls who would want to take over her territory without killing them mami is allowed to be merciful because she's strong and she takes pity probably, if a magical girl is pitiful enough, alone enough, she'll either give her grief seed or offer to take the magical girl under her wing

they leave eventually, they always leave (mami always ends up alone in the end, maybe it's because she comes on too strong, she's desperate not to be alone) but they stay, for a while, and some of mami's morals bleed on them how could it not, mami is strong, she looks like the hero of justice children dreams of (she desperately try to look the part, crumbling all the way) how many magical girls died because they believed mami, because they thought others would be like her (some are, and it's not fair to say that it's mami's fault, but the magical girls world is ruthless, and mami not truly acknowledging that fact because she's strong, or because she's scared, does the magical girls under her wing a disservice) but what about the girls she pushed/convinced to become magical girls (sure they get a wish, but you know how much of an scam that is) how many of these newly born magical girls, who only knew of heros magical girls, who were pushed into an unwinnable fight died, because mami tried to fill the hole in her heart so yes, mami has blood on her hands and kyouko hates that mami refuse to acknowledge that fact, and maybe pities her that's where the "admit your soft hands are just as bloody as mine. say it. say it" kyouko wants mami to acknowledge what she did, she wants mami to acknowledge herself, that way, maybe she could understand, or at least accept what kyouko did without looking at her like she's some kind of horrible, greedy, lost soul kyouko loves mami, she'll always love mami, even if she hates her they got too close, too dependant on each other before for everything to be swept away just like that and if mami just acknowledged everything, if she stopped putting a "moral distance" between them (kyouko won't allow her to) well kyouko would do just about anything for mami

[ntyfool]

The one, part2 (final). previous chapter.

Neteyam Sully x Fem!Omaticaya!Reader.

Confessing, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fixing it.

Summary: Feelings are always too complicated, until they aren’t.

this is really short and maybe a little rushed, but happy and relived neteyam turned to be my favorite type of him. comments always help me a lot and thank you for reading. <3 i really liked writing this small series.

Your head snapped as you heard someone entering the tent. It was already night and patients weren’t expected at all, the only task being to organize some medicine and prepare materials for the next day. A familiar figure standing in front of you.

Neteyam was panting, trying to regulate his breathing pattern while staring into your eyes. He seemed anxious, uneasy, much more than you’ve seen him in perhaps his entire life, and this made a wave of worry consume your entire being. In an instant reaction you abandoned the things you were working with and walked up to him with a small container in hands, looking for any wounds and touching his face to check the temperature.

“Are you okay? Did something happen? You seem pale.” No answer. You continued to check on him, noticing that he recently cried, eyes swollen from the tears.

“Explain to me, what happened? Why are you like this?” Panic rushing through your veins, you couldn’t endure the pain of seeing him in this state, taking one of his hands. “Neteyam, what is it?”

“I refused.”

“What?”

“I will not be her mate.”

Your eyes widened, what was he talking about? It was hard to process what you felt at the moment. This wasn’t expected at all. “Why? What went wrong?” you muttered.

“Because I can’t loose you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I love you”. He finally said. “I can’t remember a time where I didn’t and can’t accept the idea of having someone other than you by my side. You don’t need to feel the same but, please, let me stay close to you again.” You could feel your heart skipping a beat. “I miss everything about you, and I’ll be happy if what you can give me for now is what we already had. I’d live my entire life getting treated by you in late afternoons, sharing looks and talking about all sort of things. I’m not afraid anymore to go against my family if this means I’ll hold your hand again, they can’t decide for me. I want to follow my heart for once and it is yours.”

The words slipped from his tongue before he could stop them. He shouldn’t have said that, not like this. When the realization finally hit him he started to blush and panic, knowing that this could be the last time you’d look at him with the same care as before. “I apologize, you didn’t deserve to hear it this way. It’s better if I go.”

You took his arm as he turned around the exit. Still unable to formulate a coherent tough. Neteyam loved you.

Letting the remedy in your hands fall to the floor, you took a step forward cupping his face, pressing your lips together. The kiss was passionate and urgent, making up for all the years of uncertainty and yearning. Neteyam’s lips felt soft against yours, his hands holding your neck and waist, pulling you impossibly closer.

Breaking away and gasping for air, both couldn’t help the silent chuckles that escaped, overwhelmed with the tenderness of the moment. You never felt so happy, so relieved, his gaze showing nothing but pure adoration and surprise.

“I love you too, Neteyam. Eywa, how could you not know?”

His face lit up. Smiling so hard that it was almost painful. “It seems I have a talent when it comes to being oblivious.”

You playfully rolled your eyes, holding a laugh and sighing dramatically. “Maybe we both do.”

He quickly agreed and hugged you tightly, spinning you around. Giggles filling the room as Neteyam kissed every part of your face. And even without being certain about how things would develop, there was a mutual understanding that you could face anything together. Because this love was something the both of you would carry forever, and cozy afternoons were all you could wish for.

Neteyam Sully was your secret, but not anymore.

_____

taglist: @n3t3y4msm4t3.

[jgjmk4-2]

Hi hello! It me! I loved the way you wrote about the shaky hands MC 🥺 It was so lovely.

So, I have another idea! How about a reaction from Nobunaga, Kennyo, Kenshin, Yukimura and Shingen on meeting an MC that is a warrior monk? I just want that girlboss to be a badass sometimes, but Cybird is adamant on making her helpless.

Looking forward to seeing how you tackle this one 😌 Hope you have a fantastic day!

Hello!! Funny you come up with this concept because Cybird recently released that story sale "Forging her own path" which I think is supposed to be one where MC is a girl boss! I didn't buy though so idk if it's actually good 😅 This prompt is kinda cute though, I bet their reactions would be priceless!

Nobunaga:

It amuses him greatly that a woman is a warrior. He is slightly curious; she can be religious, fine, but what made her want to become a warrior as well?

He doesn't have a problem with people chasing their ambitions, but thinks that you're naive girl that just wants to play around and has never seen the battlefield before.

Doesn't blatantly show it, but slightly looks down on her until one of his soldiers gets in trouble with you because he took a pee on the corner of the temple grounds.

When he watches you beat his trained soldier with a broom stick with disciplined technique whilst reprimanding him, Nobunaga's eyes widened and he has newfound respect for you. Cue the love story of an ambitious man falling in love with quirky yet strong warrior monk.

Kennyo:

Absolutely not!! You and Kennyo are childhood friends, with him being a few years older than you, and he feels like he needs to protect you as an older brother (or maybe something more? 😉). So watching you swing around a sword, spear or whatever you can get your hands on almost gives him a heart attack.

He keeps questioning where he went wrong with his teachings; you used to be a quiet, good girl who would never even think of hurting a fly. Little does he realise how much you changed just to help him fight for his cause.

At every chance possible, he discourages you from becoming a warrior monk, but you're stubborn and insist on training and sweating with the other warriors.

But there is nothing Kennyo can do but respect your wishes as your skills and charisma slowly elevate you to a commander and his men are bowing their heads to you.

Kenshin:

Absolutely NOT 2.0. Women should NOT be on the battlefield, they need to be protected, safe, cared for and out of harms way.

It completely goes against his ideals and Kenshin can't stand it. He initially feels disgusted when the warrior monks introduce a woman as their leader.

And yet, he is slightly curious as to why all these men are choosing to follow you and choosing to bow their heads to you. You can sense this, so you confidently offer him a sparring session. He refuses to spar you, but when one of his underlings is brave (or, actually, foolish) enough to accept your challenge Kenshin watches as you disarm his solider and send him straight onto his bottom!

Okay, most women shouldn't be on the battlefield, but this one is a special case... Kenshin ignores the loud thumping in his chest.

Yukimura:

He first sees you training, shouting along with the other monks as you swipe your deadly weapon in a trained, fatal curve. You look tough... almost like a boar.

Boar woman, Boar woman, Boar woman, Boar woman, Boar woman.

It slips out of his mouth, earning him a smack on the head from the butt of your spear, a glare and an angry huff. Yukimura's heart strangely flutters under your direct, fearless gaze then.

But he also notices the little cuts and bruises on your hand from tough training. Wanting to get a little closer to you, he stops by your room later to pass you some salve and bandages, ones he keeps on handy for his own training. Not that he cares if you use or not though!!! >//_//<

Shingen:

WOW, you go girl. Being a warrior monk doesn't make you any less of a goddess to him. You're still beautiful even with a sword in your hand. In fact, he'd argue that you're most beautiful when you're training, focused and sweating.

Shingen invites you for dates at local tea houses, sends you sweets and flowers but is amused when you reject all of them and head to training instead.

Okay, okay, fine, no dates, no sweets, no flowers. Shingen wakes up early in the morning to give you some company. He babbles away whilst you train, which gives you some entertainment, but sometimes you scold him for distracting you.

Eventually, you warm up to him. His stories are interesting and it makes you put down your saber to listen to them at times. When Shingen offers to tell you more stories at a tea house after training, you finally accept. It becomes routine for the two of you - morning training followed by breakfast with Shingen's intriguing stories. Lads, take notes.