#i can't separate myself from all the things you've done to me / i can't stand to wait for help / your love has got me on my knees

[whatareyoudoingwithamaserati]

New killstation EP goes crazy fucking hard (huge fan of Evasion in particular and how it takes the classic killstation sound and then improves on it) but the fact???? That it has a song called devotion on it??? And the lyrics work for devotion duo???? Guys I can be so normal about this guys please

[ludwigplayingthetrombone]

Post war/coma comic about Gai struggling with his recovery

Since tumblr hates long form comics, I have to split this into 2 bc its 36 images. This is the first part, part 2 i'll either do as a reblog or a separate post right after this, stay tuned! Links to support me in pinned post <3

tw: s*icidal thoughts, injury, a little blood

Bisuke: Gai's Back!

Gai: GRAAH!

Kks: Im home Gai: Welcome back Kks: [wheels rolling] Hey,

Kks: Ga-!? Gai: Im fine. The tile is cool on my face. Kks: Wanna go lay down in bed? Gai: I am so /sick/ of lying down. Kks: Ok. What do you want for supper?

Gai: You're not going to comment? Kks: I already know what happened. You overdid it again. I should be able to keep up with chores, kakashi. Kks: You can. Just don' bull through it all in one go. Do you want to end up in the hospital again? Gai: Please don't. Kks: I know sitting still is hard for you, and "too much" is in your DNA, but you have to take this slow so you don't exacerbate your injuries, Gai. You went from hyper-aware to pretending your body limits dont exist. Gai: Like you haven't done the same.

Gai: You've proved your point. Kks: It's not about that. And you've dragged me to bed and out of bed repeatedly when I needed it. You were burning alive from the inside. Tsunade told you your immune system is out of whack. You need to take it easy. /I/ know you're capable, but are you trying to prove to /yourself/ you are? Gai: You want me to admit my embarrassment? Kks: If something serioud happens, You'll be even more embarrassed then

Gai: How could you possibly know how I FEEL?! How could you EVER KNOW HOW I FEEL?! Kks: I DON'T! But I've /been/ the one ouking and sobbing on your bathroom floor because I couldn't take living anymore! And I don't want that for YOU!

Kks: I'm sorry, Gai. Gai: I'm sorry

Kks: I can't stand knowing you're in pain, and I can't get you help. If there was a way, I'd do anything. Gai: You do so much to help me already.... And I yelled at you Kks: I've screamed at you so much, that was pretty tame. I wish I was like you with things like this. Not great with what to say...... But I can listen.

Gai: I hate feeling so weak. I'm tired all the time, in constant pain, I can't even walk-..... I can tell tenten and the boys worry despite my efforts to appear positive. Kks: They're just not sure how to react. They know you hate being babied, but don't want to push you into hurting yourself. You hate being told you can't do something. They love you. You get stronger everyday, everyone is cheering you on.

Gai: I know it's irrational, but... I feel like you gave up the Hokage position to take care of me. Kks: Haa!? I'm grateful if anything. I'd be retired too if I could. That'd be amazing. I'm dreading just helping Tsunade but as long as you're by my side, I'll be fine. We're still equals, rivals, friends, partners

Gai: Even if I can't- Kks: /Always/ wil be, dickhead. Gai: You worry about me hurting myself? Kks: I know you think about it

Kks: We're the same in that regard Gai: I would never act on this, please believe me, these thoughts are rare........... Kks: It's ok, Gai. Gai: Sometimes I think i should have just died. I feel so out of place on the streets I used to feel so at home at. I never asked to live. I didn't plan to. I just don't know how to-...

Kks: I understand that. Though, dying didn't feel any better. Gai: I know I didn't fully pass like you did. I didn't see papa. Just for a moment, I wish I could have seen him.

Kks: As much as I'm sure he wants to see you again, It's too soon. Dai'd slap the shit out of you for wanting to waste your youth just to see him. Gai: [chuckle] probably. Kks: I have those thoughts less and less now, but they're still there. "why am I the one who survives?" "Burden" "Gai will come to his senses eventually"

Gai: FALSE!! None of my grief is with you! I love living here with you! My love for you only burns hotter each day! You're so lovely inside and out! Kks: Maa What did I do to deserve such praise from teh mouth of the hottest man in Konoha?? Gai: YOU STILL THINK I'M HOT?! Kks: YOU-! [CACKLE]

Kks: Your bad taste is the only reason I had a chance before someone snatched you up. Gai: The worst. Kks: Thought we'd irritate eachother, but it's been pretty smooth. Even though you still get played by the dogs. Gai: You really wanna throw those stones?

Gai: They play you just as easily. don't lie. Kks: My point is, whatever you need from me, you have it. No questions asked. Even if you yell and scream, i can take it. You held me together when I was unraveling, and I'll never forget it. Didn't trust anyone else to see me like that. Broken

Gai: I never saw you as that. Kks: I'll never see you as that

[vasito-de-leche]

a little prompt, if you don’t mind

what about mercenary!reader and symbiote!Pavia? it’s just Pavia’s ult/wolves kinda remind me of Venom and i think it would be fun to imagine him being something like Venom

;R1999 PAVIA - "under your skin"

Symbiote!Pavia x Mercenary!Reader 2.5k words body horror What you and Pavia have is nothing more than transactional—you need him to make a living, and he needs you alive to ensure a comfortable life. It's taken some time to get used to these changes, to share everything you have with him for the sake of convenience: your home, your food, your job. And most importantly, your body. Perfect symbiosis, or dysfunctional parasitism? You've yet to figure out where you two stand. One thing is clear, though; he's the best at getting under your skin.

i just want you to know that this prompt speaks to MY SOUL bc i love venom and pavia so fucking much. you dont understand how hard i think about the concept of a symbiotic relationship between symbiote and host. so I went extremely self-indulgent with this one <3

as usual, this is written to be read as platonic or romantic, whatever floats your boat!

Bang!

A clean kill.

The only reason you watch as the body drops to the ground is out of respect for the work you do, nothing else. You've done this a dozen times, and you will do it a dozen more -- the gun in your hand has become a reliable friend rather than a tool for mindless murder, its familiar weight a fleeting comfort in the tedious routine. A shame it came from the most annoying person you know.

Screaming ensues as everyone surrounding your target runs around in panic. You remain, eyes locked on the target. When someone moves their body, attempting to cradle that lifeless corpse, you see it; a bullet right between their eyebrows, the perfect shot.

You feel a tug, but it comes from within your chest cavity. Something squirms inside you, pulling you back, and you understand this as your cue to slide back into the shadows. It begins with a single step backwards, then another, until you feel the texture under your shoes shift -- what was once solid ground is now a dark, velvety mass, floating upwards and fading away like smoke. It licks at your ankles, providing an initially cold sensation that permeates your clothes, and then it continues upwards to your calves, your knees, your thighs. The gun slowly dissolves into slime, taking the shape of what you assume to be a hand, horrible and sticky fingers intertwined with yours, pulling you downwards.

By then, you feel that burning sensation, and then you're dragged into the abyss.

"That was a lousy shot."

A voice echoes in your mind, it is not your own. It feels like a thousand ants marching alongside your cranium. Or rather, what you assume to be your cranium -- in this current state, you can't separate yourself from the embrace of the void. The voice might as well reverberate all around you.

You scoff and insist. No, it was a perfect shot.

"Perfect my ass. You were off by 2 centimeters," the biting remark makes you clench your jaw. You don't reply. The voice does the same, it remains still, only a semblance of white noise, but you understand its silence as a smug victory.

Suddenly, vertigo takes hold of you. It only happens for a split second, always unannounced, but you know better than to brace yourself. Doing so, as you've learned, would only make you nauseous, dizzy and weak -- instead, you let go and the shadows gently coax you back into the light before dissipating in the air.

You find yourself in front of your apartment door, an odd and anticlimactic way of ending a productive day. What, no snack run today?

"Not feeling it today. So you either open the door on your own, or I'll do it myself. Get a move on."

Some of these threats tend to hold more water than others, but more often than not, they're just empty words and loud, useless barking. And so you've learned to ignore them all -- however, you feel a faint prodding inside your back pocket, like a tentacle in search of something. Right, your keys. The roll of your eyes and the slowness in your movements are the only means of rebellion you have against this annoying entity in your head, it continues to breathe down your neck, impatient as ever, until the door opens and you step into your safe haven.

"Finally! Guess there's some activity in that brain dead head of yours."

You're forced to make a bee-line for the kitchen and the fridge, puppeteered by a force much more stronger, much more ancient than every insignificant emotion you've ever felt: the damn parasite inside of you is hungry.

As you both scan the leftovers -- your leech of a roommate seeing through your eyes, smelling through your nose -- the voice returns, this time in a more playful tone, less grating than before.

"Scusi, what's with the silent treatment today?" You bite the inside of your cheek and it laughs at you. "Don't tell me, wolf got your tongue? Are you mad that I saw right through your poor, shitty technique?"

A suffocating presence crawls inside you, starting from somewhere below your rib cage and making its way upwards through your esophagus and trachea, shifting until you feel the prodding of cold, slimy fingers in your mouth. They are tasteless and you can still breathe, your body not even bothering to perceive this as an obstruction or an intruding force that must be coughed and spat out. They are careless in their movements, pinching the tip of your tongue and pushing against your clenched teeth in an attempt to get you to open up.

And the worst part is that this is nothing but a mocking gesture, you've come to understand this over the years. To you, this is no different than someone poking at your sides, childishly asking for your attention. You obediently open, enough for a single digit to slip out, one you recognize as the middle finger. It presses down on your lower lip.

And then you bite down, hard.

It dissipates instantly, it is absorbed back into your body through every inch of skin it makes contact with. There is a new sound in the back of your mind, one you weren't quite expecting. Your parasite laughs, amused, no trace of that usual condescending tone.

"Good, you still know how to use that petty mouth of yours. I don't have to worry about teaching you how to chew down your food."

This makes you stand up straight, turning your head and glaring at an empty space, where you assume this presence would manifest if it chose to stop taking residence in your body, "I'm not eating while you're still in there. If you want dinner, then get out."

There is a beat, a momentary silence. You don't give the parasite any time to bargain, "I'm serious. Use your own damn mouth if you're so hungry. I already have to do everything on my own, I'm not going to start spoon feeding you, too!"

The reply comes out faster than you expected.

"Fine."

For a moment, your vision doubles and your body feels like it's being painlessly torn apart. For a moment, you have two sets of eyes, two sets of arms, two sets of legs and two minds. You are both yourself and him, simultaneously. It is like someone is cutting your soul in half, shoving each part into two different bodies.

It is over in the blink of an eye, and there is a presence looming behind you, made from the same material that took you here, the same material that often travels in your veins and every other crevice, nook and cranny available between your organs and bones. The lights of your apartment flicker, and you take notice of his shadow cast over you.

His predatory gaze burns holes in the back of your head, and in the stillness of it all, you hear his steps, the sound his leather pants and the shifting of his shirt fabric as he steps closer -- until you feel his chest against your back. An arm slides into view, closing the door to the fridge and resting there, preventing you from escaping. It is decorated with all the useless, silver jewelry he's taken from your targets, a hand covered with tattoos you've often traced with your very own fingers in the past.

Oddly enough, you do not feel like prey. Not anymore. Your instinct tells you that you should, but truth be told, you could not care less. Especially when you feel his chin dig into the top of your head, his weight pressing lazily on you.

"…But in exchange, I'm cooking tonight. You got 10 seconds to get outta here." He shifts, and his cheek nuzzles into you as he yawns, like he's ready to move on from this conversation.

"Huh?" You slide from under him, finally looking at the parasite concealing as a man -- one you recognize as the bane of your existence, Pavia. "Uh, like hell I'm trusting you with the food! I've seen the stuff you put on your pizza."

"Like you're one to talk! You add too much salt to everything you make. If you wanted to ruin your liver, you should've just let me eat it from day one. 5 seconds left before I throw you out. C'mon."

"Do you even know how to cook? Any actual recipes that don't require winging everything?"

"Does pasta with a side of 'mind your fucking business or I'll make us eat rat poison' sound good to you?"

"I swear if you put anything funny in the food--…"

"Time's up. Out!" Pavia picks you up, manhandles you even, and tosses you out into the living room. As soon as you land on the couch, the door to the kitchen closes and you're left all alone.

It's easy to forget that you have no fucking clue as to who or what Pavia even is.

No last name, no records, no personal information at all. You've touched him before—he looks and feels just like any other person. If you didn't know any better, you could've sworn he bleeds the same way you do. But there are times when that outer layer of normalcy is peeled back just enough to remind you what you're dealing with. Sometimes, the outline of his form darkens, as if the light around him couldn't affect him in any way, and his eyes go dark, so very dark.

You've seen him in this form, unhinging his jaw to uncomfortable degrees and revealing endless sets of saw-like fangs and teeth. His nails have grown longer, thicker and sharper than expected in many occasions. You would find those on the ground, like a wild dog who has never known, let alone needed, a trimmer.

And most importantly, you've allowed him entry to every pore of your body, every piece of cartilage, every muscle, every vein.

That's when you get a small glimpse into the eldritch monstrosity living under your roof—sometimes, he's a thick fog. Sometimes, he's an oozing pile of slime. Sometimes, he's the big, bad wolf. Sometimes, you can't even understand what you're looking at when he manifests in front of you. Regardless, you're certain of something.

Pavia is darkness, eternal and haunting as the night.

He is also a huge, ungrateful, bastard.

"Hey! Where'd you leave the gelato!? This freezer's a damn mess!" His voice is heard, muffled. It doesn't carry the same cadence and weight as it does when you hear it from within your mind. He sounds more annoying, in fact.

It's a strange experience, to have him coexist right beside you as if he weren't some sort of parasite, one hair away from eating your organs. But at least like this, he cannot read your mind nor attempt to puppet your body like a moron in broad daylight. You don't answer, fully aware that he's only trying to piss you off and lure you into another argument -- as if he'd ever lose sight of his precious dessert, anyway. Instead, you busy yourself with the usual routine; finishing what is left of your work, contact your employers and whatnot.

Soon enough, the kitchen door opens and Pavia slides into the room with a single plate of warm food. You look at him, eyes wide in indignation. Oh, he wouldn't …

"Huh? What, I thought you didn't trust me to cook, so I just made something for myself. There's some leftovers from your poor excuse of a lasagna, though." The smarmy expression plastered all over his face as he licks the sauce off his spoon is unbearable, and you rush to the kitchen either to find the biggest knife to drive into his chest or to resign yourself and eat those leftovers.

And then you see it, another plate resting by the counter. Full of delicious looking pasta.

Son of a bitch.

"Bring me some of that orange juice you bought yesterday while you're in there, yeah?" Pavia never gives you time to settle down, demanding your attention and your frustration time and time again, unable to form a single coherent thought nor opinion about him.

He's annoying, that's all you've been able to figure out so far.

He's annoying, and he's made a mess out of your kitchen to cook this meal for both of you. He's annoying, and stingy when it comes to sharing his favorite snacks and desserts, but he never attempts to steal your own. He's annoying, and he offers you a power beyond your wildest dreams, to get rid of inhibition and embrace the abilities of an eldritch beast. He's annoying, and he hogs all the fucking blankets at night, planting his cold feet against your legs or back to add insult to injury.

He's annoying, and he's calling out to you once more, telling you to hurry or else you'll miss "that one stupid show" you like, that he'll switch channels if you don't sit down with him to eat. You sigh. The nerve, the hypocrisy. You know the things he likes to watch -- he has no right to criticize your taste like this.

"I'm coming, calm down! Christ …"

You notice that he never lingers nor invades any of your usual places, always picking the same spots for himself, and this is ironic in every way possible given his fickle nature. There's no doubt that as soon as you two retire for the night, Pavia will make a show out of sliding back into your body, to rest with the warmth of your blood and the soothing rhythm of your heart. And you will tell him to fuck off and sleep on the couch, reminding him of that one time he got a little too comfortable, clutching your heart in his claws, causing you to believe you were having a heart attack. Then, morning will arrive, and you will find Pavia either sprawled out or gone, but never truly leaving you alone. You will feel him, that inky slime, both cold and warm in your veins. You will go to work, and you will return home to start all over again. This is the routine, one you stopped questioning a long time ago.

This parasite who gets under your skin, both figuratively and literally, is annoying. He's annoying when he teases you, forcing you to admit that he can cook a mean pasta. He's annoying when he laughs, loud and boisterous, at those stupid moments he often criticizes in all of your favorite shows. He's annoying when he gets clingy, using you as a pillow because he can't be bothered to reach out for one of the many other pillows scattered around.

He's so very annoying when he looks at you with a curious gleam in his eyes, obviously noticing the way you've chosen to rest your head in the crook of his neck. Time stands still as you simply look at each other, as you lose yourself in those bright, sharp eyes.

You stick out your tongue at him, and Pavia blows a raspberry at you. Sure, he might be plenty annoying on his own, but together you're both insufferable and unstoppable.

[97keanu]

Premise: Part two of Vanquish: A Keanuverse Story. In this part, reader chooses to embrace one of her destinies, healing the past and becoming whole again. She uses her new found self to save someone who didn't even know he needed saving, but the path there is laid with pain and darkness. She becomes something she never thought she would, and she finds out if evil vampires can really be saved or not...

Tags/CW: DARKfic, horrorfic, vampire!John Wick, blood/violence, soul connections, past lives, reincarnation, ghosts, supernatural AU, witch!neo, slayer!Constantine, love triangle is concluded, blood drinking, virgin!reader, smut, p in v, enemies to lovers, dub/noncon, innocent/crybaby(ish) coded!reader, john is an evil vampire asshole, soon to be cock addicted!reader, semi "stockholm syndrome"!reader, reader who discovers her bad side, reader who gives into lust, hedonistic!reader, doggy, rough, aggressive, primal, oral (f receiving.), so many smutty scenes.

A/N: In this choice, you will have to give up a lot to find love, but is it worth it in the end?

Go back.

"I have always felt as if I were missing something." You say, and Neo looks at you with worry, but nods, listening.

"Neo, I need you to stop the barrier between me and Helen." You can't believe you're saying this, but you know it's what you want.

Neo doesn't say anything for a long time, and you worry he won't do this for you.

"Are you sure that's what you really want?" You can hear the sadness in his voice. "He won't stop hunting you if you do this."

"I know." You say plainly, but bite your lip anxiously. A part of you knows that this isn't the safe decision. But you also know you haven't stopped thinking about that night, the way John's body pinned you to the wall. Temptation continued to knock at your door.

"I just have this feeling about it, and I...I have to do this." You assure yourself, trying to will being right about this.

You're worried he won't understand, but Neo sighs and takes a cigarette from behind his ear, lighting it up and nodding.

"If that's what you really want, I'll do it. But there's no reversing it when it's done." Smoke seeps from his lips as he talks, finally billowing out with a long breath when he's done.

You think for a moment. Do you really want to give up everything to become whole with your past self? Is she even really you, or have you experienced things so differently that you've become two separate beings, still forced together by fate? And if so, why would fate keep cycling you together?

More importantly, you know this is just a way to get close to John in the end. You know he's no good, that there is so little light in him, but you want him all the same. You wonder if those feelings are even yours or Helen's, but in the end, it won't matter.

You decide that there's only one way to find out, and you look back into Neo's warm brown eyes and nod.

"I have to know. I can't go on being in this purgatory between myself and her." Neo says nothing and stands, pouring a cup of black coffee from a dirty little pot in the corner of his room.

"Alright, but it's going to be a long night," he takes a deep sip of the coffee. "And it's likely to hurt."

You take a breath, and calm yourself, readying for anything.

"Let's do it." You affirm, and your hands clench nervously.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Neo moves a dirty, dusty rug from the center of his room. The concrete beneath it has been used for many rituals, stains and etching here and there. He draws in the summoning circle, writing it there with chalk and herbs. He carefully transcribes sigils from his own spellbook, making sure to work carefully, but efficiently.

"I don't think Constantine will take the news well," he calls over his shoulder while he works, and you sit on a rickety little stool he scrounged up.

"I know," you hate thinking about it, so you try to push Constantine from your mind right now. "But he can't make my life choices for me."

And it's true. As much as you owe him for saving your life, and as much as you love him as a friend, maybe even something more at one time, you can't let his wants come before what you feel deep inside your heart.

You know the vampire John Wick is evil, years of grief can do that to anyone, but you also believe that there's a way to get past that. And you can't deny it any longer, the way he's touched you, body, mind and soul, is something you feel you've been waiting your whole life for. You feel the need to at least try, if not, at least maybe with your soul merged with Helen's once and for all, you feel complete for the first time.

You bite the inside of your cheek nervously as Neo continues to finish the first part of the ritual, and you close your eyes for a moment, trying to internally call out to Helen, if that's possible.

Minutes pass and all you hear is your own soft breath, and Neo's quiet muttering and movements on the concrete.

Then, something stirs in your chest, and you hear her.

"Please, save him if you can, I hate to see John suffering from being a man he would despise..."

You nod to yourself, feeling more affirmed in your decision.

You try to focus on calming breaths until Neo is ready for you.

Soon enough, you're sat on the dusty, cold floor of Neo's apartment, lines of chalk and fancy ritual symbols encompassing you. The smell of incense fills your lungs and Neo walks carefully over the chalk to anoit your forehead, eyes, and heart with an oil that tingles when it touches your skin. He finishes by lighting candles that encircle you, and he begins the ritual.

"I want you to focus on the parts of you that are Helen, and I want you to welcome those parts into your own being." he pauses and looks you in the eye with an emotion you cannot place. "You may see things, hear things, feel things that you cannot explain, and it may be painful, but you will work through it. I believe in you."

Somehow, it helps that no matter what, Neo supports your choice and is on your side. You're grateful for his neutrality and assistance.

You let him know you're ready to begin, and Neo starts speaking in a language you're unfamiliar with.

You close your eyes and try to imagine what he said.

You think about your first meeting with John Wick, and how even though you were so fearful, his touch was something your body yearned for. How electric it felt, how those emotions might have been Helen calling out to him, but you're also sure that it was apart of you that desired him as well. You've been so chaste all your life, and you know that you've longed for someone to ignite that kind of passion inside of you.

You welcome that desire, that yearning, that want. And you feel your heart swell, as if there was so much weight inside of you, stirring and trying to get comfortable.

You hear Helen's voice once more.

"Come, I need to show you something."

You follow that voice with your mind and heart, and you feel yourself rising, the cold cement underneath you fading away, and your mind finding a light in the inky black darkness.

You reach out, and when your hand touches the cold metal of a candlestick, your breath hitches. You can feel the object, really feel it in this place. The candle's light flickers as you take it, and hold it close, the warmth from the small flame touching your cold cheeks and neck.

You walk, feeling as if you're walking on nothing at all, until the light begins to cast a hallway before you. It's still ever so dark, but as you move, you notice it becoming more and more solid, the scene becoming extremely real to you.

You hear the voice again.

"This way..."

You follow where you're being let, and a door opens. You see a woman who looks just like you, standing and turning to see you. She looks pleased, walking forward with a confident stride. You open your mouth to speak to her, but she gets closer, walking so close that she walks right through you.

And suddenly you're her, and you see what she walking towards.

John Wick stands in the door way, his eyes dark, no red to be seen. He smiles at you, and opens his arms as you come to embrace him. You can tell by his smile he is still a vampire, but the lust for blood is gone, the grief in his eyes is no longer masked with hate and anger. Instead, he is simply happy, kissing you everywhere he can get his lips on, and you're there in his arms, not frightened, but giggling with glee.

You watch as he turns you and holds you from behind, his mouth on your neck, kissing and sucking softly. He teases you, and you can feel the shivers of delight he gives with each kiss.

And suddenly, you understand why Helen has wanted to come back to this, these moments with John. You feel a small wave of doubt on if that's even possible, but you know you have to try.

You feel as if a breath of life has been blown into you, and when you close your eyes and lean into John, you know you've also leaned into Helen, and as you realize that your heart swells. It feels as if your chest may even burst from how much is being taken up in such a small space, but slowly the pain dulls, and you find yourself fading back into the darkness.

You open your eyes and see Neo standing over you, his eyebrows drawn in concern. You blink, letting the world come back into focus, and when you do, you notice how everything looks brighter, more vibrant.

You wonder how different things will be now that you look through your own and Helen's eyes, in unison now.

"You made it," Neo says, then looks around your form. "Your aura's evened out, but into a new color entirely. Do you feel any different?"

You stare up at him, not sure what to say, the whole world feeling much too big and large for you now.

"I..." You start, then swallow the lump in your throat as reality sets in. "I feel...complete."

A few tears fall down the creases in the corners of your eyes, wetting your hair along the way. Neo gives a soft smile, then offers a hand, letting you sit up.

You can sense him now. John is out there, and he knows what's happened. It's only a matter of time before he comes to claim you.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

You decide to come to him. You part ways with Neo and go out into the darkness of the night. You leave the city, Neo's apartment close to a wooded area nearby. You don't want to be interrupted this time.

You know this is dangerous. That John is not that warm and loving man that Helen showed you in her vision to you. You know that man, if he still exists, must be hidden deep. You can no longer deny the pull to him, however, and your feet keep going forward no matter what fears stir in your belly.

You walk, crunching over orange leaves and fallen twigs. The full moon illuminates your path and you feel as if your skin is ignited, sensations you wouldn't have thought possible are being made clear to you. When a critter scurries away, or an owl flaps it's great wings above you, you almost know before the creatures even know their own next moves. That's why, when John steps out of the shadows behind you, you already know he's there.

"I've seen it." You speak to him without turning. "I've seen the man you used to be."

You hear nothing for a few moments, and your breath softly hangs in the cold October air.

"You have no idea if that man still exists inside me," he finally speaks, his voice deep and controlled. "And yet, my little slayer, I find you offering yourself to me so easily."

"Helen showed me, told me of the love that still burns in your heart for her." You didn't hear him move, but John is standing directly behind you now.

"So now you know," his breath moves the hair on the back of your head. "That I am intrigued by you for that sole purpose. Do you not worry I shall use you as a vessel to get to my true love?"

"No," you know it doesn't matter now that your souls are joined. The truth is, you've always been Helen, and that is a fate you could never escape.

"So you've joined your past then..." He thinks for a moment, a clawed hand slowly running itself up your arm, ever so lightly touching it.

"Does it not bother you that she was a vampire, slayer?" He tilts his head with curiosity while softly running his hand up your shoulder to your neck, gently feeling the pulse there.

"It's a part of me. I cannot deny the past or the parts of myself I do not like. It's what makes me whole..." You know it to be true, and you look up, blinking at the bright moon that watches the scene of hunter and hunted below it. You wonder which one the moon thinks you are.

"I have been waiting for you for a very, very long time." John's voice is soft now, surprisingly full of an ache you couldn't understand. You can sense how badly he wants you, he needs you, what he doesn't want to admit.

"And now here I am," you say, your voice quivering for a moment as you walk into such a different path of life. "Asking you to give me your heart once more."

The vampire laughs softly, his hand moving from your neck to play with a loose strand of your hair.

"You ask so much of me." he pauses for a moment, then whispers out. "And would you still give yourself to me knowing that I may never change my wicked ways?"

"I know the real John is in there. Not the killer you've become."

"You sound so sure of yourself. I do not wish to set you up for failure, slayer. Even though my fangs throb and my throat dries from how badly I want you so." He can't deny his bloodlust for you, and a shiver runs down your spine as he speaks, moving aside your hair and whispering this into your neck.

"You believe I should fear you, John Wick?" You feel a confidence building in your stomach despite how frightened you truly do feel.

"Oh," John laughs as he gently scraps his teeth on your delicate skin. "You should be terrified, my dear..."

He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in suddenly. You cry out as he sinks his teeth into your flesh, and his hand moves to clutch your throat as he tastes you. You stand there, shaking in his grip, like a fearful deer in the wolf's mouth. Too startled and so quickly dominated by John to run, to fight back. The pain from his bite quickly turns to pleasure, building in your breast and following all the way down to between your thighs. You shudder from his touch, his mouth moving perfectly to carefully and slowly drink every drop of you he can. He's been waiting for this for so long, he couldn't have stopped himself if he wanted to, when you so freely trusted him and presented yourself to him.

A moan escapes your lips, and suddenly his free hand is groping your breast, feeling how tender the flesh is there and sending waves of pleasure through your body. His other hand grips your hip, pulling you into him and grinding your ass against his hardening cock. You have saved yourself for so long, but never knew you were saving yourself to be taken by such a predator. You hear John's soft growls as he bites you deeper now, taking more of your blood than he originally planned. You're just so sweet, so delicious, and fear mixes with your pleasure as you wonder if he will ever stop, or if he will drain you right here for being such a stupid little whore for him.

You reach up, your hands tangling in his mess of long, dark hair, and you can't help but need him in deeper, drinking you in just the right way that it sends waves of pleasure through your body. John growls become more animalistic, the need and the want overwhelming him. With the pleasure you're feeling, you find your mind foggy and dazed, the thought of letting John kill you somehow turning you on even though you know that's not what you should want.

You find yourself grinding your own hips into him, your legs parting, and John's hand on your hip slipping down, between your legs, beneath your skirt, and grabbing a handful of your wet pussy roughly. He grips your panties, pulling them up harshly so they slip in between your tender lips, finding the perfect spot to grind against your sensitive clit. He works you like that, fucking you with your own panties, and drinking deeper still until you think you may slip into the darkness of pleasure that coaxes you so sweetly. And you let him, a little lamb to the slaughter, looking up at him with big wet doe eyes that ask to be killed so gently.

Just as you think you've truly made a mistake, fear coiling in your stomach and making the pleasure you feel heightened to a degree you don't think you can handle, John pulls his fangs from your neck. He laps the wound there, and it slowly heals, but he's not done with you.

"You've made the mistake of trusting a monster." His voice is full of cruelness and lust. "And now I shall show you what happens when you do."

Your head is so light from the loss of blood, and you can barely fight back, your body so weak. Without warning he flings you into the ground of the forest, leaves and twigs scrapping your hands and knees. Your body falls without a fight, so easily manipulated at this point. You can hardly think of the reality of the consequences you've yet to face from doing such a thing.

John is at your hips once more, grabbing your ass and positioning so perfectly face down ass up. You look back at him, eyes glossy and dazed, tears you have no control of overflowing and dropping onto the dirty ground. Your cheek lays against the earth, dirt beginning to sully your perfect little face.

"It's so sweet you thought you could fix me." He laughs as he rips your underwear, the sound echoing into the quiet night.

Your bare ass faces him, the cold air teasing your extremely hot and wet cunt. He slaps your ass with a satisfying noise, grabbing it and digging his claws in just enough to hurt.

"You're going to regret giving yourself up to me so easily." His cock is now free from his pants, and he spits on your pussy, rubbing it in and mixing it with your already budding wetness, using the tip of his large cock to do so.

He pauses and watches you as you look up at him so innocently, lip quivering, tears falling, too dazed from blood loss to fight him. And then, just when you think he won't go through with it, he plunges all of his long, girthy cock into you in one harsh blow. You've never been fucked before, so the pain reels in your mind and you cry out, hands gripping the earth. For a moment, you try to crawl away from his cock, using most the energy you have left to do so. John laughs, reaching forward with one hand to grab your hips and thrust himself back deeper inside of you, using the other to grab a handful of your hair, pulling you from the earth painfully. Leaves fall off your cheek where they stuck, and you can only look up at the stars and the crimson eyes of the man who's taking everything from you.

"After this, you will no longer be able to deny me. You will no longer be able to go back to being an innocent little slayer." he thrusts into you once more, your mouth opening for a silent scream as you are filled up more and more by his cock, beyond what you ever thought you could take.

"You will be my pretty little whore, a slave to my cock, and a slut that loves to let me drain her." The worst part was, you knew it was true.

Even now, barely able to keep your eyes open from being drunken so deeply, you craved the pleasure those fangs gave you. You hate how your body betrays you, the way it feels so good to be dominated and fucked by John right now. Your legs quiver and shake on the dirty ground from how badly you want to cum. If only your sensitive little clit had attention right now.

"I want you to say it." John says, looking into your eyes as he fucks you and wrenches your hair. "I want you to say that you're mine, and I might just let you cum."

You bite your lip, trying to focus on the pain there instead of how good John's cock is, not wanting to give in. His free hand slaps your ass once more, taking a few hits out on it and leaving handprints that slowly redden. You hate how good it feels to be so degraded by him, for your body to have the sole purpose of being used up by a much more powerful being such as him. It's twisting your mind, rewriting all the training you had as a slayer and making you the perfect little whore.

Your mouth opens and cries out as John pull you up off the ground further by your hair, til your finger tips can barely touch the earth. He reaches around and grabs a handful of your breast, which he slips his hand under your blouse to do so. He quickly gets to your bare skin there, and plays with your nipple, twisting and pulling just the right way. It drives you mad, and you can barely breath as you're overcome with the sensation of that and John thrusting deeper and deeper inside of you.

"Give it up, slayer...You know how badly you crave this. Just admit you're my little toy from here on out and I'll be nice for once." His voice is now in your head, wrapping and twisting around in there, your ability to fight back dwindling more and more.

You can feel John's cock begin to swell, wanting so badly to finish you off. You grit your teeth and try to ignore how badly you want this, and how desperate you are to cum under any circumstance.

"You should decide quick, or else I'm going to use your sweet little cunt as my cumdump and be done with you." John growls, twisting your nipple so hard you cry out into the night.

"I-I'm...!" You try to fight it, try to not let him win, but your body aches, and you need this release so badly.

"You'll have to do better than that, my little pet." He snarls and thrusts in harder and deeper a few times just to break you down further.

"I'm..." Your mouth can barely whisper it out, and your eyes flutter, so tired and wanting to shut. "I'm yours..."

John grins and his hand snakes between your legs, finding your clit and stroking everywhere but it.

"That's it. Tell me what you are to me." He commands, teasing your clit. You feel shivers run along your body and you twitch, trying to move so his fingers will brush over your clit properly.

"I'm, I'm..." Your mind is blank, mouth moving and saying whatever it can form. "I'm your little whore..."

He flicks his fingers over your clit, and you jump from the attention, but moan out from how good it feels. Then you whine when he stops.

"And what else?" You hate how he teases you, and whine harder like the little brat you are when you don't get your way.

"I'm your slut..." You barely know what you're saying at this point, you know anything will come out of your mouth right now if it means you get to cum.

"Yes, good girl..." He whispers into your ear, rubbing your clit properly once more, a bit longer now, then stopping again.

"P-please!" You whimper out, your breath coming so hard and quick now as you get closer, but are denied once more.

"Keep going, tell me how beneath me you are." You feel humiliated from how easy it is now for him to take you and make you do whatever he says. You truly are but a puppet in his hands now.

"I'm your dirty little slut...your bitch..." You blink, trying to cum up with more, but every time you say one, he plays with your sweet spot, then denies you when you stop, making it so hard to think.

"Keep going."

"I'm your cumdumpster...a hole to fuck...your pretty little blood doll to drain when you get thirsty." you have no idea where all this is coming from, but you'll say anything right now as long as John keeps his cock pounding you and his hand sending waves of pleasure through your body while he pets your cunt.

"I'm a mindless little slut for your cock and I had no idea that's what I was meant for before you fucked me into submission..." You whisper out, feeling completely degraded and knowing John's working on those emotions in your mind to help make such horrible words come out of your mouth.

"That's right. And now, I'm going to claim you as mine and keep you forever until I get tired of you." Your body shudders from the thought of being so entrapped by this monster, being so completely used up and broken by such an enemy, and so easily tricked into doing so.

You feel your clit aching from the teasing touches, and your cunt is starting to get sore from how it's being used. You feel John pull you up so he can get to your neck, your back against his torso, his hard abs cool against your hot skin. He uses his hands to keep you steady, his cock still finding a way to keep you stimulated, and his hand working on your clit. He waits til you're shaking, legs ready to give out, and cunt clenching so hard and tight around his cock you think you might break. Then, just as you're spilling over the edge, those waves of sweet pleasure starting in your legs and moving out, he sinks his fangs into you once more.

Your pleasure is mixed with the pain of being bitten again, then quickly moves to heighten your cum. John's cock can handle it no more, finally, spilling his cum so deeply inside of you, throbbing and in need of making sure every last drop gets inside. You feel yourself continuing to cum, much longer than you ever could have thought possible, and darkness beginning to take you as well. You fade into an abyss filled with pleasure and nothingness, and for the first time in your life you feel bliss from being so perfectly taken.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

You awake on deep burgandy sheets of silk, twisted up in your legs. You kick out, the silk slippery and expensive feeling, and your foggy mind tries to make sense of what you're seeing around you. You blink, and try to use your hands to rub your eyes and make the scene make sense. It takes a moment, but you begin to see in the dimly lit room.

It's opulent, dark red and deep browns filling your vision. It's a room that looks older, but the items inside are still so prestine despite looking Victorian or earlier. You look about the bed, it's huge, and you feel as if you're on a boat in the middle of the sea. You look up and see the bed posts extend upward, red velvet curtains adorning it and creating a little enclave.

You peek from the bed to see more of the room, body moving slowly, stiff and sore. You realize as you move, someone has dressed you in a light, white and airy, nightgown. As you look from your body back to the room, one of the doors to the room opens.

John walks in, a golden tray in his hand, covered. He says nothing, but he is extremely dominant just from how he walks up to you.

He sees you recoil from him slightly, and your blood starts to pound a bit faster now. His face is stoic and let's no emotions come through.

"Here." He says, not exactly gently.

He sets the tray on the bedside table, and waits for you to move first.

Your mind is hazy, but you remember much of what happened between the two of you. You feel more naked now than when he was fucking you relentlessly. More shy, afraid of being so normal in front of him.

He watches you, a hand gesturing to the tray slightly, waiting for you. You move slowly, not taking your eyes off of him, unsure of if this is a game or a test. You slowly grab the cold metal of the cover of the tray, and pull it off with measured movements.

You glance away from him finally, to see what he's brought you.

On the tray, a delicious looking breakfast. All of your favorite foods of this meal are present on a few different sized plates, complete with a steaming hot cup of tea. You look back up at him, and your eyes narrow for a second, wondering how he would know to make such a perfect breakfast for you.

"It was her favorite too." He says simply, the slowly, as if waiting for you to say now, sits on the bed.

The bed has more than enough room, so you sit near the edge and by the table, and he at the end of your feet. He watches what you will do next.

Despite yourself, your stomach growls from the smell of the wonderful meal, and you can't take it any longer.

You begin to eat, slowly, and to your surprise once more, it tastes as amazing as it looks. You didn't know a vampire could cook so well, but you're not questioning it now.

John watches you with curiosity, and soon you get so into your meal, you forget that you should be afraid of the man at the end of the bed. You pause halfway through, your stomach getting fuller faster than you would have thought. You softly move, positioning yourself so you can look directly at John and drink your tea.

This time, you wait for him to make the first move.

"I'm sure you have a lot of questions..." He finally says, and you look at him, not giving anything away either.

The truth was, somehow, you had less questions than you thought. You know what's happened, and you feel less like two entities in one body every passing second. In fact, now you feel as if you've moved into a singular being, and with Helen's knowledge of John lingering in the back of your mind, you know how he will treat you here.

"Or maybe not..." He says with a smirk, clearly reading your mind so easily.

"I still think you're in there, the real John." You take a sip of tea, and you know the hope has not been taken from you entirely.

"Oh really?" John says with a smirk, clearly intrigued. "After what I've done to you, you still think there could be good inside of me?"

You laugh, and John looks genuinely taken back, for only an instant.

"Oh yes," you are now the one smirking. "Just because you're a good fuck, doesn't mean you can't be a good man either."

Your voice is a tad cocky, coyly acting as if the events of him taking you that night were actually your idea. And for a moment, you think that maybe it was...

"I'm hardly a man, you know that, slayer." He says and this time he laughs.

"And I'm hardly a slayer, anymore." You raise your eyebrows and take another sip of the spiced and sweet tea.

John nods, saying nothing, obviously thinking over what you've said. You wonder if you truly could stump the feared John Wick with such ease.

John stands, and walks to the second door in the room. He opens it, and from your view on the bed, you get a peek into a bright white and gold accented bathroom, much larger than any you've seen before.

"The bathrooms here, if you need it." John walks back over to you, leaving the bathroom door open.

He gathers the tray, but leaves you with your tea.

"If you need me, call out. I will hear you."

And with that, he walks out the door he came in, and you hear the particular sound of a lock being engaged. You think on what he said, the implication being not only will he hear you if you call for him, but hear anything else as well. You understand that despite the more kind aspect of feeding you today, and giving you such a gilded cage to stay in, you are still his prisoner.

You decide to get out of bed, your long nightgown flowing with your movements, and your bare feet pad across dark wooden floors. You look into the bathroom closer now, and see all the grandeur of it. The room is large, with a huge marbled bathtub in one corner, big enough to fit 5 or more with comfortably. The side closest to the door holds a sink and counter, behind them a long and tall mirror that makes the room seem even bigger. Across from the sink is a vanity area.

You walk over and inspect it, seeing it is complete with any make up item you may want, of course namebrand only. You spy a few perfumes as well on a tiny golden tray, and you test them. You surely will not like all of the scents, but to your surprise, it's the each smells you'd love to wear most. He really has thought much of this out.

You decide to undress, and as you do, you see your body in the mirror. Bruises on your knees and arms are deep purple, your ass still spotting some red marks and violet as well. Your muscles are sore as you take the dress off and all it combined reminds you of what happened before you came here.

You aren't really sure how to feel about it. You know, if you detailed what happened to any of your friends, or god forbid Constantine, they would immediately think the worst has happened. But somehow, despite the social pressure to deny how much you liked it, you know that when you walked into that forest, in search of John Wick, it was a possibility that he would fuck you so savagely. And the deeper part of you had hoped for it to happen. You look away from the remnants of his touch on your body, and move towards the bathtub.

You sit on the edge while the tub fills with steamy water, looking at the stained glass windows across from the tub. Moonlight pours through them, leaving a red stain across the room from the depictions of roses and such within the glass.

You finally are able to sink deeply into the tub, and you're able to float on your back in there, simply letting your mind and body rest in the heat of the water that envelopes you.

You wonder what happens now.

You've set out to heal your soul bond to Helen, which you've done. But now, a different bond tugs on your heartstrings.

You know that the reason you've come here, given yourself up to John, is because he is connected to you in ways you can't begin to untangle. Not now, after you've chosen to go down this path.

You can tell he wants to use you, in whatever evil way he desires, but you wonder if it could be called 'being used' when the pit in your stomach yearns so deeply for it.

You know you were raised to be a slayer. That it runs in your blood to kill monsters, like John especially. But you never really felt like that was meant for you. You were never as good at it as Constantine. You always lacked something and never even progressed past killing low level monsters. How were you supposed to ever be a great slayer when the odds were so stacked against you?

You sigh, the steam rising from the tub and the mirrors of the bathroom fogging over. You sit up, and reach for expensive looking soaps and haircare on the side of the tub, and begin to gently wash up.

The act of taking care of yourself in such a way soothes you, and you love the scents that have been chosen for you. In a weird way, this is much more calming than any of your years as a slayer. You wonder what else is in store for you, if there's something that will make you regret this so greatly, but apart of you is ready to face anything if you can see the one your heart hungers for on the other side.

You wonder if this is how hedonists feel. Giving into lust, yearning, want, and letting yourself have whatever it is that your body desires, uncaring for if that choice is bad for you.

You wash your body in thought, and as you do, you begin thinking of John's cock again. Maybe that was all it took. Being held down and fucked like an animal, and now you feel so empty without him inside of you. That's what he said right? That you would be a slave to his cock?

You let your hands wander your body in the bath, and you softly touch yourself. Small moans escape your mouth as you keep going, echoing in the large bathroom. You think of John fucking you again, and soon enough you're body is hot with desire. And by the sounds of footsteps entering the bathroom, yours isn't the only one.

You don't need to stop, or move, to know who it is. With your connection strengthening, you know John has stepped into the room. You were hoping what when he said he could hear anything, he would hear you in here touching yourself.

You've become such a naughty girl since you let go.

John approaches the tub, and right now, your back is to him. You have no idea if he came in this way, or quickly undressed, but soon enough, he is entering the warm water with you. He swims carefully behind you, and his hands, still cold, softly caress your back.

You shiver and turn to him, seeing him now, fully naked and immersed in the water as you are.

"Couldn't even finish your bath?" He teases you, voice so soft.

"Mhm..." You simply respond, and now that you're both so exposed to each other, you come in closer.

"You're so easily tamed. Don't you feel like such a whore for giving into me like that?" He chides and smirks, and all you can do is laugh.

If only he knew that you do feel like a whore, but it's not because of how badly you crave his cock. It's something you're slowly starting to choose, and each time you give into such a desire, the more freedom you really feel.

You reach for him, and feel his chest, slowly warming in the hot water. You let your hands run down it, and to your surprise, John let's you do as you please. He watches you with intrigue, and you remember how many more years of experience he has over you. You wonder if there's anything you could do to surprise him.

"You already have." He says, reading your mind once again.

"It's not fair you have access to all of my thoughts, and I have none of yours." You pout, and keep letting your hands explore his body more, slowly.

"You need but ask, Сладкая..." He speaks something in his foreign tongue and through your connection you don't have to ask to know it's for endearment.

"Why do you think you can't be saved?" You ask, and are worried to look into John's eyes.

A long moment passes, and finally you do. John looks down at you from where he's relaxed against the side of the bath, and seems to be thinking.

"I don't think someone who's killed as much as I have, taken as many lives as I do, has much to be saved left." He says this, and you can tell it's sincere.

You nod, listening, and you don't know what to say. It's true. You know after Helen died, he became the assassin he is, killing vampires, humans, and other supernaturals alike. In a way, you think, he's more of a slayer than you are.

"You're probably right." He laughs, and you blush as you realize once more he's overheard.

"If you don't like doing it, you could quit being an assassin." You say softly, running a hand upward and letting it play with the ends of his hair, still not wet from the tub yet.

"It's the only think I could do. After I lost you the first time, I couldn't do anything to make myself feel. Killing changed that." You're surprised he's confiding in you so.

"It won't change much, telling you how I feel. Knowing my feelings doesn't absolve me from the wickedness in my heart." He says, looking deep into your eyes, his now a red so dark you can scarcely tell it's true color.

"I will want you again. And I will take you however and how much I like." He says this extremely plainly, as if there's no other way. "I will not kill you, but you are mine now."

He looks at you for response, and you show him nothing.

"Do you really think a man who will use you for your body and blood, who cannot give you anything in return from a heart so shrivelled as mine is, is the correct choice?" You sense how much he believes this to be true.

You place a hand over where his heart should be. You feel only the faintest and dullest of beats.

"Perhaps, with enough of my blood beating in there, you will feel the love I still have for you, after all these years of waiting." When you speak like this, you know it's more of Helen coming out of you, but you can see from how you use such words, John's eyes seem to soften ever so slightly.

"That is a kind thing to wish for..." He takes your hand in his, and pulls you to him. He kisses your hand, and you let it open like a flower for him.

He kisses your palm, still wet from the bath, and he kisses further, reaching your beating wrist. His eyes flash up to you, the red brightening as his hunger shows.

"You let such a monster as me have free reign over you?" He whispers into your wrist, breath tickling you there. "Oh what a silly little slayer you are..."

"I'm not sure if I was ever cut out to be a slayer..." You can't believe you're saying it out loud, but it's true. You always felt you had to be, that it was what was destined for you, but it never fulfilled you the way it did others.

"Ah, so you've come to use me for your rebellious phase then...?" He jokes and laughs into your wrist before gently nipping at it with his teeth.

"You could say that..." You joke back, but in reality, your breath is caught as you imagine his fangs sinking into you there.

Your thighs squish together in the water as you try to hide your want to feel the pleasure that those teeth bring.

"Don't think I forgot what brought me in here..." John teases you, and you bite your lip as you try not to whine for him. The temptation grows.

"I know how badly you must want me to drink of you again..." John swallows, obviously hungry himself. "But I cannot, you haven't fully recovered from last time."

You can't help it, the whine escapes your lips as he says this and then licks against your pulse, pulling you into his lap as he does so.

"Would an evil vampire care so much for letting me recover?" You whisper out, confronting him despite yourself.

"One that wants to use every last drop of their blood doll does..." He chuckles and let's his teeth run up your arm, until he finds your neck, moving wet hair out of the way.

He kisses there, at that perfect spot on your neck until your moans are filling the room. He let's his hands steady you, and take your body in, exploring every curve, your waist, your back, your breasts.

Oh, how you wish he would touch between your thighs, though...

He smirks and looks you in the eyes.

"Should I be nice for once and let you have what you want?" You don't know if he's serious or not, but from the flash in his eyes you suspect something devious.

He turns, lifting you up and setting you onto the edge of the bathtub with ease. There's more than enough room for you to sit, and John looks up hungrily from between your legs.

He takes in the sight of your body and grins.

"Tonight, I shall taste of you in a different manner..."

He pulls you to the edge and opens your legs without asking, you cry out from how aggressive he is. You can see that primal look in his eyes once again, and you know there's no stopping him now. You also know, you wouldn't allow him to stop anyways. Your breath catches as his head dips between your legs, breath on your most sensitive area already, and before he can ease you into it, he's lapping at your wet cunt.

You squirm and his hands dig into your thighs, pulling you in and capturing you there. You feel caught in the wolf's mouth, not daring to move lest he bite down too hard.

You feel your pleasure ramping up as his tongue continues to tease you, alternating between too much stimulation then not enough, John waiting for you to whine before he gives you more.

Your hands move to tangle in his hair and he grabs them, moving them back. He's not letting you have even an ounce of power right now.

You begin moaning more and more as he focuses his mouth directly on your clit, sucking until you think you'll go mad.

"Say my name." He commands, and you try to think straight as he goes back to licking.

"J-john..." You whisper out, and he grabs your thighs harder, growling.

"Louder."

You bite back giving him what he wants and instead hold your breath as you try to edge yourself closer to the edge.

"Not until I hear you scream my name." John looks up at you with those red eyes, no longer stimulating you, waiting.

Fuck. He's got you right where he wants you, once again.

He laps slowly, teasing his tongue through your folds but not giving enough for you to finish, just enough to prolong your need.

"Fuck..." You whisper out, trying to buck your hips into his mouth, but he holds you down with his steel grip.

You can't take it anymore, your breathing is ragged and sharp, and your body needs release.

"John..." You whisper once more, looking down and seeing that same glare as before, knowing you aren't nearly loud enough.

"God, John!" You moan out again this time getting louder, and every time after building.

He lets you scream his name until he's satisfied, finally flicking his tongue perfectly, sucking and licking just right until you're shaking. He let's you twitch into him, your need to grind against his face given freely as long as you keep his name perched on your lips.

You finish, and he slows down his tongue in time with your breath, easing you down from your high.

He smirks at you once more from between your thighs and pulls you back down into the steamy water.

He says nothing, but slowly runs his hands on your silky, slick body. You feel content in his soft touches, and for a moment you think you might even fall asleep as he does so. He leans you back into the water, wetting your hair then applying shampoo, the smell sweet and lovely. He washes your hair with precise fingers, the feeling on your scalp sending tingles down your back. You look up to keep soap from getting in your eyes, and glance at him. He seems as relaxed as you right now.

"Why are you being so kind to me now?" You shouldn't ruin the moment by asking, but you have to.

"Just because I am capable of good doesn't mean that I am good." He whispers back. "Besides, I like to take care of my things..."

You let him finish washing you, then he helps you from the steamy bathwater, offer a hand as you step out. He hands you a fluffy white bath towel, and a smaller one for your hair. You've never felt so cared for, even though the man doing so is supposed to be such a monster. You know he's wrong. He can't hide how much he cares for you for long.

He gets you a new nightgown and helps you back to bed, your body still overly tired and weak. Another set of tea is already out and prepared, you wonder by whom, but you don't care.

You drink the liquids left out for you with fervor, your body thirsty after sweating in the steam of the bath. John walks over to a fireplace in the room, and begins to light it, toying with the flaming wood until its to his liking.

"You don't have to worry here, you know..." He says softly, still looking at the fire.

"No?" You reply.

"No...I will have your every need taken care of, but I have conditions."

"Which are?" You look at his back, his eyes still glued to the flame.

"You may not leave here. I will not allow you to see your friends. And your body is for me to consume as much or as little as I like." He says the conditions so plainly, and you wonder if you'll be able to adhere.

You say nothing and he stands, turning to leave not looking at you.

He pauses at the door, only half moving his head in your direction.

"Goodnight." He whispers, then closes the door and locks it once more.

You crawl under the covers, and the warmth from the fire keeps the cold at bay. You wonder where your life with John will lead.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

You lay there, head full of dreams that whisk away reality, softly breathing. The balcony doors to the room shutter against the cold of the wind. November is near now, and the weather has started to dip into a frosty tendency. You are grateful for the warmth of the room as the wind continues its wickedness outside. You sleep somewhat peacefully despite your situation.

That is, until the knocks came.

You thought perhaps a branch or some other bit of nature had summoned itself against the glass, but the intensity of the knocking grew louder. Your eyelids flutter open and you blink away sleep, trying to see what it is that has disturbed you.

A shadow cast across the room, a long, dark shadow that is human in form. You feel fear slide down your spine as you quickly look at the window to see the source, and your heart sinks.

It's him.

Constantine.

You fling yourself from the bed at once, feet slapping against the cold wooden floor. When you come to the glass doors of the balcony, you pause, wondering if you should really open it. You glance up at Constantine's face, and the love you once held for him is still a dull ache in your heart.

You open the doors.

He immediately embraces you, his warmth shining through despite the cold.

"You have no idea how long I've been looking for you..." He whispers into your hair.

You've never seen him so tender.

Your absence must have been harder on him than you thought it would be. You had only known him barely a year before you met John, but there was an undeniable bond between you two. There still is.

You pull yourself away from him.

"What are you doing here?" Is all you can say, and Constantine's face drops.

"I'm here to rescue you? What the fuck do you think I'm here for?" The gruffness and mean tone of voice you're used to is back.

"I never said I needed to be rescued." You fold your arms across your chest, stopping some of the billowing of your nightgown in the wind that blows in from the open doors.

"Why else would you be here with a vampire? I don't believe that you have come here on your own accord, you're a slayer, we don't do that..." He says this slowly, watching your reaction, looking at you as if you were a foreign object he must inspect.

"I..." You begin to speak, then close your mouth, unsure of what to say.

"Don't tell me you actually decided to come here on your own..." Something inside his words, beyond the cruel exterior, was almost pleading you to say no.

You say nothing.

Before Constantine can open his mouth to speak once more, the doors to your bedchamber open with sleek vigor.

John stands there, staring Constantine down.

Before you can stop them, they're already at each other, Constantine going to grab a stake off of his back, and John going for his throat.

"Stop!" You call out, and you realize you cannot bear to lose either of them. Your heart beats wildly and you try to think of a way to end this.

To your surprise, Constantine is able to get John pinned, his stake aimed and John's hand holding his arm to stop him from drilling it into his heart.

"Please! Don't!" You scream out, and Constantine looks at you.

"Tell me you want me to go and I will." He says, grunting with effort to keep the upper hand while distracted.

"Tell me you choose him and I will never bother you again." His voice caught, rough and pleading with you.

You have no idea how you're supposed to choose so suddenly. You open your mouth but cannot muster words to come out.

"Fine." Constantine says and soon allows John to break free from him.

As John goes in for the kill, Constantine jumps from the balcony, giving you one final look, that you know means you won't see the last of him.

You rush to the edge of the balcony, to see where he's gone.

When you check the ground, so far down you don't think you could ever make such a jump, he's already gone. The only evidence being boot prints in the wet grass and the anger on John's face.

"John...I--" before you can speak grabs you and flings you into the bedroom.

He shuts and now locks the balcony door, your one salvation to the outside world these past few weeks.

He glares at you, his red eyes full of emotions you don't think you could ever feel so intensely. His eyes lock with yours, and you can see the pain there hidden behind a sardonic grin.

"Seems you're still tethered to the past, my dear. I think it's time you make a choice."

With that, he leaves you there, tears welling up in your eyes as your heart hurts from both of them.

The door to your bedchamber clicks and you're all alone once more...

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Taglist: @emacarrigton @sunnythebunny7 @worldsgreatestsinner @discoscoob @nwheregirl @slutforsoldierboy @sughcashsaiki @sebastianstanisahotmf @iovesia @brooxie3 @generalkenobee

Be added to future updates here!l

Ask to be taken off of this tag list at anytime via message!

[sugar-omi]

Is it ok to make a request after the last one? Like everything about the eloping was just a dream in this one. And Mc is still married to Cove but after getting that nightmare they get all guilty over something that didn't happen and fear if they'd actually do something that would hurt everyone, especially Cove that badly. So they decided to isolate themselves somewhere no one would find them for a while with little explanation to Cove when they leave. Any location really like a cabin in the woods idk. They were supposed to be only there for a week then a woopsie happens and now they get stranded for more than a week. You're choice on how it ends and whether they tell Cove or not about the dream.

Seeing Cove suffer hurts me so I wanna see the MC suffer (more) :)

HAHA I LOVE IT, YESSS LET MC SUFFER !!!! also ik i wrote it as a "y/n" post but i was like imagining jamie as MC/"y/n" and inserting myself in cove's happy ending <3 lmaooo no one said "y/n" couldn't be someone else 😋 i imagine a lotta ppl read y/n fanfics with their oc's or the default name though too but yes tysm for this ask bc this heals my heart, this is smth i would do!!! one time i read 2 separate fics with character A died and in the other fic character B died n i was like "oh okay theyre happy together now<333" ITS SILLY BUT IT MADE MY HEART FEEL BETTER

[read the post mentioned above: "leaving cove for baxter"]

tags : Hurt/(No) Comfort, step 4/wedding dlc, nightmare about cheating, running away, keeping secrets, arguing <3 (cove snaps abt you leaving)

synopsis : you have a nightmare about leaving cove, so you run away to calm down. maybe you should've taken a different approach...

you wake up in a cold sweat that night.

you're shaking and trying not to wake up cove because his arms are wrapped tightly around you but you can't help the tears running down your face.

somehow you shake yourself from your husbands hold and go to the bathroom to cry...

that morning you're very distant, and since cove has to leave for work as he's been away for awhile for your wedding and honeymoon, he just kisses you and tells you that you will talk later.

when he comes home you sit him down and tell him that you've just going through a bit of depression and burn out, and that you're going to go visit lee for a week and come back.

cove frowns up, of course he understands what you're going through and he understands that things are hard but do you really need to go away?

"y/n, please. i understand you're going through something but, can't you stay? isn't there anything i can do for you?"

you shake your head, "i'm sorry, it's just 5 days and then i'm coming back. i just.. i just need some time."

cove feels a bit angry now, you just got married and everything was fine, you were happy yesterday and now you've done a total 180 overnight and won't let him help you!

"y/n you can't just leave, i really don't understand what's going on."

you shake your head, standing up and releasing your intertwined hands. "i just need a little break, i promise i'll be back soon."

you do go visit lee like you said, but after the 2nd day she leaving town for a show.

"i'm gonna miss you!" lee squeezes you in her arms, not wanting to let you go. "you just showed up, its gonna be forever before we see each other~" lee whines.

you laugh, patting her back. "its okay lee, we'll get together soon."

she pulls away, needing to leave soon if she doesn't want to miss the train. "okay.. i'll call you everyday! have fun on the rest of your trip, okay?" a worried look comes on lee's face, taking your hand in a soothing manner. "i hope you can work through that burn out."

you nod. yeah, burn out...

lee sticks her hand out the window, waving the whole way (thank god someone else is driving) until you can't see each other.

you sigh, walking to your car and make your way to the hotel you booked for the rest of the week...

the beach reminds you of your honeymoon... you aren't sure why you're torturing yourself like this.

you sigh, thinking about the dream. well, nightmare to be correct.

there was nothing inherently scary. but since it was from a first-person point of view, your mouth moving out of tune with your thoughts and everything happening so vividly, it was scary enough.

you feel tears well up in your eyes as you think about everyone's reaction.

would your ma really tell you to stay away from the house like that? and lee.. you can't imagine not talking to her.

fuck, you're crying... just thinking about everyone's disappointment and the scorn on everyone's face is enough to send chills down your spine.

you cringe, thinking about cliff and krya, their messages and how cliff looked so distraught when he saw you when he came for the last of cove's things on your nightmare.

you couldn't bare your in-laws hating you. cliff has always been someone important to you, and now he's your father-in-law. he's a sensitive soul as well, and he loves cove so much. of what had happened was real... oh man, the simple idea of how much regret cliff would have makes your body shake with sobs.

and even though you try not to think about cove's reaction to you leaving, its so prominent in your mind.

you start wiping at your tears, even though there's no one around since this is a little edge of beach off the edge of a hiking trail near your hotel, you feel so ridiculous for crying over this.

you sniffle and go to stand up.

it's getting dark, you've off the trail, and you have an early day tomorrow.

the only problem is... you're a bit lost.

you didn't realize how far you were. you're back on the trail but do you go left or right? does it matter if it all leads back to the hotel?

you swallow, you're so fucked.

everything is just going wrong.

first, you get lost on the shitty trail and don't find your way back until daybreak, and now your car isn't starting up, and the mechanic said it'll be a few days before they get it up and running.

you sigh loudly and fall back into the bed. thankfully, the hotel let you extend your stay so at least you have that going for you...

you startle from the sound of your phone ringing... it's cove.

you hesitate to pick up, you still feel sensitive, but you miss cove, and you've already texted him about the situation for the most part..

"hey, cove.."

"y/n! are you okay?" cove's worried voice crackles over the phone.

"yeah, i'm alright, uh.. listen, cove."

you trace the stitch pattern of the quilt on your bed. "apparently, it'll be a few days before the car is up and running. something about a busted something, i don't know what he said. i wasn't, uh, paying attention very well..."

cove sighs. "y/n... I'll come get you or something, and then we can talk about this, okay?"

you feel your heart pick up. "no! th-theres no need for all that, you just hold down the fort, tell the fish I said hi." you laugh shakily.

you can practically hear the frown in his voice. "y/n. why did you go on this trip, seriously. what are you hiding from me?"

cove's voice is rising and cracking with tears at the same time.

it breaks your heart. you can't answer him and it just makes cove more upset.

"do you regret marrying me or something? is that why-!"

"no!" you exclaim. suddenly regretting your outburst but you can't help but deny it since that's not it and you don't want cove to think that...

"then fucking tell me!" cove is obviously crying at this point. "all I know is my spouse left for a 'break' and is now telling me they don't want me to pick them up? be fucking serious y/n!"

you exhale shakily, wiping your own tears.

"i'm sorry..." you whisper, burying your face in your hand.

"sorry for what, y/n? leaving me after we just got married? lying to me? shutting me out?"

cove's voice is deep and his words have an edge.

he's right though, what are you apologizing for? you're acting out and letting your problem consume you...

there's silence, and then cove mutters over the phone.

"... do you not love me anymore?"

you snap up, sliding off the edge of the bed as you snatch up the phone. "no! it's not that! don't say that!" you cry, "I love you so much, cove! don't even think otherwise!"

cove is silent. since you can't see his face you can't decide if that's a good thing or a bad thing.

"you know what i... i can't take this right now. I'll call you later."

the phone clicks.

now all you're left with is silence and your own thoughts...

when you finally come home it's 11:47 at night.

cove should be asleep but instead he greets you from the door.

you swallow, psyching yourself up to go to him.

something about the way he watches you from the moment you came into view on the street, to watching you pull your bags out the trunk and then maintaining eye contact (more like boring holes into you since you can't look him in the eye.) as you creep up the pathway to the door of your marital home.

he's silent. just watching. no "hi" or "I love you" or "I missed you, I barely survived while you were gone", just.. silence...

you finally look at him. his eyes are hooded with lack of sleep if the eye bags are any tellers, and yet he stands in front of the illuminated doorway like an unmoveable wall.

your heart skips and clenched. what if he doesn't want to let you back in?

you go to speak and he talks over you.

"was it worth it?"

you gape at him, frowning at his question.

"of course you can't say anything. what did I expect..." cove pinches his temples between his thumb and forefinger.

you gather up some words, uselessly trying to grasp for forgiveness.

"i.. i thought it'd be better if i worked things out on my own... i'm sorry.." you fiddle with the keychain on your luggage. "i shouldn't have done that and uh.. I'll deal with my problems without running away.."

cove watches you blankly. he can't believe you're serious.

"you're not gonna tell me, are you?"

you don't nod or shake your head. you just look at the ground and pray he forgives you.

he stands in front of the door for awhile longer, before he takes your luggage, a little more like snatching it since he grabs it by the side of the handle and tugs it out of your hands, pulling you forward.

"come inside. did you eat?"

you gape a bit, wondering how cove can care for you in a time like this but it reminds you more of a mother who's making sure her naughty child doesn't need anything else before they receive their punishment..

you shake your head. "i'm not hungry right now.."

cove doesn't nod or insist you eat like he normally would. "shower and go to bed then. I'll join you later."

you nod, letting cove's orders sink in.

the bath water is getting cold. and the sound of the echoed sound of water clapping against the edge of the tub makes you self-conscious.

you stand up, letting the water run off of you and robotically dry yourself with a towel before slipping into the clothes cove threw on top of the sink for you.

when you slip out of your bathroom, the bedroom is dark except for the moonlight coming through the window.

you tenderly tuck yourself into bed and close your eyes. waiting for something. anything. maybe for everything to become undone or for time to move past this.

just while you start to get deep into your thoughts, tears pooling in your eyes, cove's footsteps thump against the floor, and you halt your breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

the bed dips on his side. you don't feel him leaning over you or getting into bed and so you turn around, looking at the broad expanse of his back and waiting.

"you're not gonna tell me, are you?"

you say nothing.

"not what's wrong? what happened? how can I help?" cove's desperate at this point. "nothing?"

you pause, fingers twitching because you want to reach out to him but if you did he'll just shrink away from you for sure.

"I don't know.." you finally mumble.

cove hangs his head, fiddling with something in his hand and he lays down without looking at you, flipping over once he's gotten under the covers.

you're both awake, there's no way he isn't and you touch his back.

he doesn't flinch like you thought, nor shake or tell you to fuck off.

so you creep closer. maybe that's a bad idea, wrapping your arms around him as the worst he can do is reject you but you missed him. and everything is eating you up that you just want his comfort..

he let's you, surprisingly.

you rest your forehead between his shoulder blades, curving your body against his.

you reach for his hands, finding them clenched weakly around something.

you wanna shake and cry when you realize it's his wedding band...

he let's you take it from him, and he holds onto your other hand that's tucked under his body.

you shakily slip the ring back on his finger.

maybe, maybe one day you'll tell him.

but when the next morning comes, and cove greets you with a bright smile and "good morning" that only has half his usual cheer, and he continues it for weeks until months have passed since then and it's as if nothing happened, you aren't sure you ever will.

[ray-of-melancholy]

I'm losing my life to you. If you die before me I will kill myself. I can't stand the thought of a world where we don't coexist. You're my favorite person and you deserve more than anyone to know that.

I have a special notebook I tuck in the back of my drawer, it's all full of you. I can't let anyone know about it. Then they'd know about you and you're my soulmate. Please be all mine. I've bled so much for you, its all over those pages. Every time I make an entry with your information, I make a new slit. You are my scars, you are my blood, you are my skin. You are my body, you own me.

I love you so damn much. This Isn’t a joke and fuck you if you think it is. You've neglected to notice any of my other advances. You remember those flowers? Those were fucking from me you selfish asshole. I spend all my paychecks on you. My love, my life, my soulmate, my sweetheart, my one and only, why do you hurt me this way?

My heart aches for you. Just let me in<3

I'm flattered my dear. This may be the first time I hear of your affection but deep down I know. I know your mine. I know I'm yours, I feel our connection and love building. I feel you in my heart when I close my eyes. I feel you in my lungs when I breath, I feel you in my very soul. And some day, melancholy tunes, and the most powerful neo/classical music will play at our wedding. Not because it's a sad day but because our vows will be obituaries and our love a smeared lipstick

The mirror is where I find my love, it's where I find you, behind the mirror is a medicine cabinet where they want me to be. To lock myself up and be normal, but I can't. Not with you in the picture, not when Im loved by my own counterpart, another side of me. They will say we are separate people, that our love is disturbed or crooked. That we have perverted the very definition.

But is that not what love is?

It's meant to be perverted and bruised.

Never hide your letters, never let them be shrouded in shadows for the shame you feel is temporary, we will find each other my dearest, my God, I would lick your boots the same way you would lick mine.

We are one

We are a single whole, shattered and separated but someday. Somehow. We will be together again we will be a whole being

I didn't realize it until now but you are me as I am you and I will find you to kindle our love.

I will embroider your skin in flowers, roses and marigolds and orchids

Love, death, and sex

The very things defining us

When I think of you I think of rope burns and candle wax, the taste of crimson and the smell of figs.

I'm the fig, you're the wasp, I will consume you to become ethereal, to become whole.

I yearn for you

I will ruin you

I will pervert everything you know

And that will be what we are

Spoken word obituaries, sweet deaths whispered in our two person coffin.

I will keep you caged like a bird, your wings clipped with an altar dedicated to who you once were and who you will become under my guidance.

A cross

You are crucified, raw, unhidden, everything you are shown to the world.

You are mine

And I will bring you to your knees

Spiders

In a web

I will tie you in me web

The rope burning your skin

In our shrine, in our home.

I will keep you trapped. My bite eating away at your organs, until you are but a shell when I will eat away at your organs and swallow your guts

A shell

Found in the beach

Taken

Taken home

Away from your home to be with me

But you don't regret it

Not even for a moment

I would do anything for you. I HAVE done it all for you

My heart beats for you, I move for you, I gasp for air, I sob, I do everything,

I'm a marigold, rotting away by a casket

I'm a rose, covered in thorns

I'm an orchard, passionate and needy

But I am you, as you me

We are a fig

A predatory plant and a misunderstood animal.

Painted as aggressive but your just defending yourself

Until you give yourself to me

Sacrificing your wings to be wrapped in marigolds and leaves

I will collect your blood and use it to summon a demon to permanently connect us

I will rip your fingernails off with pliers, I will keep them under my pillow, at your altar, littered around our shrine

I am you

I will be you

You are not me

I will consume every part of you

[mydetheturk]

Title: Hell, I'm Dead Anyway

Author: mydetheturk

Rating: M (for safety)

Word Count: 2,710

Warnings: Vomiting, Panic Attacks, Crying, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Wolfwood's Going Through The Horrors, Hallucinations

Summary: Wolfwood cracked too many ampules. Meryl and Vash can only keep him comfortable while he recovers.

~~

Day 3 of @mashwoodweek! I chose "Ghosts" for reasons that will be Revealed in the fic. There's also a sprinkling of the poetry prompt "Tell me every terrible thing you've done, and let me love you anyway."

Title is from The Dark Tower Vol 2: The Drawing of the Three by Stephen King

(read on AO3)

There's some content warnings in the replies, if you're reading in the dash view and want to have some idea as to what's going down.

~~

Meryl worries, when her boys get into gun fights. Vash can dodge anything when he wants to, but Nick… Nick tends to soak up the bullets and crack an ampule and chug whatever serum is in them. And this last gun fight had been. Bad.

It'd been bad.

Nick had cracked the glasses at least twice that Meryl had seen, and Vash admitted to seeing another two, not to mention what might've happened when the three had been separated. When Meryl had found Nick again, he was leaning against a horse hitch and standing over black sludge, surrounded by bodies of some of the bounty hunters after Vash.

He'd thrown up black sludge before collapsing, all before Meryl could finish calling out to him.

Meryl's panicked scream had brought Vash running.

That was a couple of hours ago.

Meryl isn't sure how they got Nick in their motel room without anyone seeing them or Nick getting covered in vile, black goop. Meryl's been holed up in the bathroom with him, making sure he doesn't die. Vash hasn't been allowed back in since Nick looked at him with hazy, half-lidded eyes and stopped breathing out of panic. It took about thirty seconds of stillness before Nick sucked in a ragged breath and vomited up more of the black goop, the tears in the corners of his eyes spilling over.

Vash had bolted, and he's been pacing back and forth in their motel room since, bringing Meryl whatever she's asked for. She's only seen something like this once out of Nick since they stuck together after July. It almost killed him then, and it feels like it's killing him now.

It's been a while since he last coughed up the black, rotten goop, and while his vision isn't totally clear, Nick actually looked at her when she called his name, so Meryl's taking it as a win.

“Nick? Baby?” Nick's so pretty eyes blink at her, unseeing. Meryl puts her hand on his cheek, and he pulls back weakly. “I'm going to have to get Vash in here. I can't move you myself. Okay?”

“Shl'dn' touch… hurt you…” Nick wheezes, and Meryl's heart cracks.

“You can't hurt a kitten right now, baby,” Meryl says. She kisses his sweaty forehead.

Nick's too hot, but they don't have a tub with their room, just the tiny closet that holds the toilet and sink. Meryl and Vash will have to get whatever they can to get him cooled down. She just needs to get Nick on the bed, first.

Nick hacks up another lungful of bile into the toilet, wheezing weakly. Meryl runs her hand across his shoulders until he slumps back.

“'m good. Be good. Won't run again,” he whispers. He's staring out past Meryl, at something only he can see. “'m sorry.” His hands keep clenching and unclenching and small shivers wrack his frame.

“Child assassin, made to grow up too fast,” Nick had told her, drunk on bathtub gin and grief. Meryl's put those words in a little box to examine when she has moments to herself. Trying to demand anything of Zazie doesn't work, but what the Worm's Voice has implied has been horrific.

“Vash!” Meryl calls over her shoulder. She doesn't want to corner Nick in the tiny bathroom, but they've gotta get him cooled down.

Vash nearly runs Meryl over in his haste. He's glowing slightly, whorls flickering into existence from his eyes outward. “Is he–”

“He's too hot. It's making him delirious,” Meryl says. She tries not to think about the couple of pictures of tiny baby Nico Miss Melanie had shown her with golden eyes too old for his soft baby face. She doesn't know how successful she is with controlling her voice, given how Vash pales with her words.

“Will – will he let me touch him?” Vash whispers. He hovers at the door, not wanting to put more stress on Nick.

“I don't think it's gonna be a will he, Vash. I think you’re just going to have to,” Meryl says, just as quiet. Nick's lips are moving but no words are coming out, and he's staring not at her but past her. His whole frame trembles and his breath keeps skipping. “We need to cool him off.”

Vash takes a couple of deep breaths and steps in, deliberately making noise. Nick twitches back, eyes flicking in Vash's direction. He's ashy under his tan, the ever so faint freckles just darker than his normal skin tone standing out.

Meryl doesn't know what ghosts he's seeing.

But she wants to find the remains of Millions Knives and use the Punisher's laser to make sure he isn't coming back. She wants to find whoever Legato is and hurt him for hurting Nick.

“I'm so sorry, Nicholas,” Vash says. He kneels down, and Meryl scoots out of his way. She can't really haul Nick around the way he can her – he's too dense and she's too short. “I'm not going to hurt you. You're safe.” Vash keeps his words low and soft and unhurried as he carefully takes Nick in his arms. Nick tries to get away, flinching and spitting and full of panic, but there's only so far he can get in the confines of the bathroom.

Nick's crying silently by the time Vash gets his arms around his torso.

“I know, I know,” Vash says. “I'm sorry.” He presses his cheek to Nick's. “I'm standing up now, Wolfwood. There we are.” Vash rolls to his feet, dragging Nick with him. Meryl moves up as well, drawn to them magnetically. Nick can barely keep his feet under him, he's shaking so hard. Vash keeps murmuring to him and there's a sound Meryl can feel coming from Vash's chest. “We're gonna walk now. I've got you. I'll let you go in a moment.” Vash backs them out the door, staring forward at the back wall of the bathroom the entire time. He keeps going until the backs of his legs hit the bed and then Vash turns, shifting Nick until he's the one with the mattress in the back of his knees. Meryl helps Vash manhandle Nick into the bed proper; Vash's hands don't linger the few times he touches Nick's skin.

“Can you run water as cold as the sink will get it, Vash?” Meryl says once they've got Nick as comfortable as they can. There's an expression on his face that says he can tell more about what's happening than Meryl can. She's not sure he'll say anything, though.

Vash uses his prosthetic fingertips to shift Nick's hair off his forehead. Nick’s eyes scrunch closed and he tries to pull back, but he doesn’t make it far. Tears streak in varying directions across his face, across the bridge of his nose when he looks away from Vash. “Yeah. Just a second.” With a heavy sigh, Vash grabs up some fabric – a towel, a spare shirt, things like that.

Meryl takes a moment to get Nick's shirt the rest of the way unbuttoned, exposing his torso to the hotel room. Placing her hand over his heart, she feels the way it jumps a little and his breathing catches. He’s scared and verging on passing out from his panic and what he was seeing.

Meryl's breath stutters on an exhale.

He's so stupid.

She lost Vash once, no matter that he came back; Meryl can't lose Nick too. Her breath hiccups and she chokes back a cry.

“Hey.” Vash taps her shoulder with his flesh hand, the glove off so she can see his hand fully when she turns her head to look at him.

“Yeah?” Meryl hates how small her voice is.

“Nicholas is stubborn,” Vash says. “I'm sure he'll pull through.”

Meryl wants to believe him. She does.

But the sense-memory of when Nick killed the man that had been the boy Rollo to save Vash's life rolls through her bones anyway. She doesn't want that for Nick.

Instead of voicing this, she holds out her hands for whatever Vash had taken with him to the bathroom. The fabric in her hands isn't super cold, but it's cooler than the air around them. Carefully, Meryl drapes the smallest pieces of fabric over the pulse points of his head and arms, saving the wet shirt (which is one of Vash’s) for Nick's torso, folding it in half and laying it across his chest.

It's not heat exhaustion or stroke, but she's not sure how else to handle it. They'll have to try getting some water in him at some point so he doesn't get dehydrated.

For now, it's all she can do.

“I'll make sure the bathroom is clean,” Vash says. “We don't want the lady at the desk getting angry with us. Innkeepers talk.” He says this lightly, but there's a look in his eyes. Meryl's sure the same look is in hers.

She pulls her eyes away from Vash's far too blue ones and casts a glance around their room. Something is missing. With a second, more thorough look, Meryl realizes what it is.

“We left the Punisher,” she says with dismay. It's been a few hours – she hopes no one stole it since they retreated to the motel room. Honestly, she's not sure how someone could; the gun so full of what Nick claims is mercy but is in actuality a horrifying number of bullets weighs more than Nick and Vash combined.

Vash's face falls, empty.

“I'll get it,” he says. “Stay here, I'll be back soon.”

“Hurry,” Meryl replies. She doesn't think the hunters who'd been after Vash earlier would strike again, but she doesn't want to risk it with Nick as bad off as he is.

“Of course. I always do.” Vash grabs the coat Nick's been wearing since July, sliding his arms through the sleeves like he never left it behind. Running his hand through his hair, it spikes up slightly. With his hair back and Nick's coat, he doesn't give off “Vash the Stampede.” It should hopefully be enough.

Nick's breathing evens out while Vash is out getting his gun. When Meryl checks on his pulse, it's still a little off, but going stronger than it had been.

Meryl drops her face into the mattress beside Nick's hip. “You're an idiot,” she whispers. She refuses to acknowledge the tears that threaten to fall from her eyes. “You stupid idiot, you can't do this to me.” She takes the closest hand in hers, threading their fingers together. Nick mumbles something incoherent.

Meryl's still refusing to cry when Vash comes back with the Punisher slung over his back. He looks a little worse, eyes red rimmed and tear tracks through the iridescent scales that show up when he starts glowing.

“How's he doing?” Vash asks. The Punisher makes a soft thump when Vash sets it down. The belts aren't quite right, but Meryl knows Nick will want to make sure his gun is fine when he wakes.

“Better,” Meryl says. “His heart though...” she trails off, biting her lip. There's nothing she can do; she's not a doctor, and Vash's 'profession' when he's going undercover is a Plant Engineer. Not to mention whatever he's got going on inside of him isn't going to be the same as Nick, who's definitely got something going on that a normal, unmodified human wouldn't have. There's no scars, but Meryl watches how he stretches his back, and it's unsettling to see how flexible it is. Sure, Nick broadened over the last couple of years, but there's something going on underneath.

Vash furrows his brow and moves to the other side of the bed they have Nick on. He places his ear to Nick's chest, eyes closing as he listens.

Vash blinks up at her after listening to Nick's chest for a moment. “I don't know if I can do anything for this, Meryl. His best bet might be...” Vash trails off.

The doctors at the Eye.

“Fuck,” Meryl says.

“Yeah.” Vash swallows. “That. That about sums it up.” He lets out a little giggle. It sounds about how Meryl's feeling.

Meryl laughs, a little hysterical thing. “It's going to be so fucking hard to make him not drink that fucking serum.” She's not even sure if there's a single member of the Eye that Nick trusts. From what Vash remembers of the fight on the sand steamer on their way to July, they were holding Nick's brother hostage as a way to make Nick work with them. Most of the people experimented on straight up die.

Vash stands back up and walks around the bed to wrap Meryl in his arms. She finally lets herself cry over the whole situation. “We'll let him heal,” Vash says. He's got that blank tone to his voice again. The one that makes Meryl sad and pisses Nick off. “If he gets worse, we'll head Home. Luida might be able to do something.”

Meryl's met a couple of the doctors on the ship. She hopes someone there can help.

At the moment, all they can do is wait and periodically cool the fabric they draped over Nick.

Meryl gets out her stack of reports and settles herself in the chair beside the bed. Vash cleans the bathroom within an inch of its life and then methodically cleans the Punisher before doing maintenance on his Colt. Both of them keep a desperate eye on Nick while they work. Its a little while longer before he finally slides into proper sleep, his breath deep and even. Something in Meryl's chest untangles at that. She hopes he's not having nightmares. Nick had looked at Vash and seen someone else. Meryl's pretty sure she knows who, since she sees blond hair and a beauty mark on the wrong side in her nightmares too.

Setting aside her reports, Meryl leans on the bed, pillowing her head on her crossed arms so she can stare at Nick. She loves an idiot with a sacrificial streak an ile wide and another idiot who has no sense of self-preservation when it comes to the people he cares about.

She closes her eyes. Just for a minute.

A shaky hand petting Meryl's hair makes her jolt up. The hand in her hair falls.

“Ow.” Nick's awake.

Nick's awake.

Meryl dives into his stomach, not giving a damn that she's sobbing all over him.

“Ow. Shortie, what's–”

“Don't do that to me again!” Meryl sobs.

The door creaks open, Vash stepping through. “I'm back,” he calls quietly. “The innkeeper was kind enough to give us something when I mentioned Nick's not...” He trails off, finally processing the scene before him. “Nicholas,” Vash breathes. The bag in his hand clatters to the floor and he joins Meryl in clinging to Nick. “Wolfwood – Nicholas, Nick.” He keeps repeating Nick's name, as though his brain has gotten stuck on Nick and Nick alone.

Nick makes a noise but doesn't shove either of them off of him. Not that he could at the moment, not with the grip Meryl's got in his shirt and the almost bruising clutch Vash is using.

Meryl sobs herself out, Vash close behind. Nick shakily holds on to both of them, bewildered.

“You can't do this to me – to us,” Meryl croaks when she thinks she can talk a little bit without bursting into another round of tears. “You could die and I can't lose you too.” Her voice cracks on her words and Meryl clings into Nick's chest again.

Vash pets Nick's cheek with his flesh and bone hand, thumb going through tear tracks and giving Nick a watery smile. “I can't lose you either,” he says. “Please. Don't make me lose you too.” He buries his face in Nick's throat.

Nick makes a noise at both of them. “'m sorry,” he rasps. “Didn't mean to scare you.” He doesn't say it won't happen again. Meryl knows it might.

He didn't promise her this after that time when they were without Vash, either. As long as people he cares about could be in trouble, Meryl knows Nick will do whatever he has to to keep them safe.

She just hopes it doesn't kill him in the process.

[swiftbluelightning]

[A video is attached, on Undella Beach, at night.

"You came," Cassius says flatly. Tucked under one arm is a large bundle of cloth.

"I did." Astra stares at him, expression unreadable. Lillian stands beside her, holding her hand, visibly furious. "What do you want?"

He holds out her X-Transceiver. "This is yours. I don't know how it got to me, but I am here to return it."

Astra takes a few hesitant steps forward, before rapidly snatching the X-Transceiver away and stepping back, affixing it to her wrist. There is the sound of an electronic chirp.

Cassius' eyes flicker towards her wrist. "If I had known someone made their home in there, I would have been more insistent on returning it sooner," he says mildly.

"That can't be all you want," Lillian says sharply. "There's far too much that's happened for that to be all you want. And if it is, I'm breaking your nose again."

"It was the most pertinent," he replies.

"Then get to the rest of it." Lillian crosses her arms. "I'm tired of seeing your face already."

"I am sorry." Cassius looks between Astra and Lillian. Astra's expression remains unreadable, but Lillian's morphs to clear, unabashed shock and derision. "I don't expect you to accept it. Either of you. But it is true. The things I have done to the both of you are inexcusable. I won't spend my time justifying myself. It helps no one. I will merely state that I did not intend for any of these meetings to happen. I assumed you would rather want me out of your lives. I am happy to maintain that separation if it is what you desire."

"Yeah. It is." Lillian glares. "I don't speak for Astra, but after the shit you've done to my head? If you're not fixing it, fuck off."

Astra remains silent, expression unmoving.

"That is next on my list of things to discuss," Cassius continues calmly, like this is a business meeting. "I imagine you want the unadultarated truth. I did not carry out that ritual intending for it to ever be reversed. I have been attempting to find a way to undo it. I was not successful, and in this world I doubt I have the resources to ever be so. Those memories are as good as gone."

"You are a very lucky man that I don't want them back, then." Lillian steps forward, fists clenched. "You are very lucky that I am happy as I am, you are very lucky that I care more about what I can do in the future, you are very lucky that I've found my way back to Astra's side without them. If any of those things weren't the case, I don't think you'd be alive right now."

"I do not offer any consolation." Cassius seems undaunted. "But I have something to return to you. Not in the stead of your memories; nothing can replace those. But it is yours nonetheless." He reaches for the bundle, holding it out towards Lillian.

With a disgusted sneer, she yanks it away, unfurling the cloth; it falls gracefully to the sand of the beach, and a hammer, its head ornately and intricately carved, the leather binding of its shaft worn and used. Lillian stares speechlessly down at it.

"I stole it from your father," Cassius explains, taking no step back outside of the range of the woman deeply angry at him and now armed with a hammer. "I doubt he ever noticed its absence. I intended to return it with your memories. That ship has sailed. Therefore, I simply return it alone." He folds his arms behind his back. "That is all."

"Most people would figure handing someone who hated them a weapon was a really fucking stupid move," Lillian notes, voice deliberately void of any emotion.

"I am not most people." He looks between Lillian and Astra again. "Is there anything you two would like to add?"

"I've said everything I need to." Lillian returns to Astra's side, entwining her fingers with hers.

Astra is silent for a few moments longer, staring, inscrutable. "I have nothing to say to you," she says finally, and she turns away.

The video ends there.]

[smolwritingchick]

Forced To Believe Chapter 41- Making A Statement

Chapter Summary: Surprises happen at the Royal Rumble. Rosa and Morgan's rivalry gets intense.

Words: 2,000+

-----

'Sunday'

Melanie was in Colby's hotel room that he shared with Joe. She had a big bucket of ice cold water in her hands when she snuck into the bathroom to hear the shower on. She laughed silently before throwing the bucket of water over the shower and onto Colby.

"Shit!" Colby yelled and jumped in shock while Melanie laughed loudly and heard a loud thump.

"Hahaha! Did you fall?" She asked.

"What does it sound like?" He retorted and got up from the shower floor. 

She smiled in victory and walked out of the bathroom.

'WWE Royal Rumble, In The Ring'

Morgan tweets 'Ah...time to whoop some ass. #MorganIsReadyToRumble #BelieveInMe'

The diva Royal Rumble was underway with Rosa, Naomi, Brie, Natalya, Eva Marie and AJ left in the ring. The crowd starts chanting 'We Want Morgan' and they get their wish when she comes out but she walks to ringside and gets on commentary. 

"Wait, you aren't in the match!?" King asked, looking at Morgan in her Shield attire.

She shook her head. "I know I want to get back in the ring but diva battle royals aren't my thing...I get jinxed a lot in those diva matches."

"Nice takedown by Rosa as she eliminates Brie! That's shocking." Cole exclaimed.

"She's trying..." Morgan retorted. 

Rosa begins taunting the crowd by dancing and swinging her hips.

"Every single time, this is what I can't stand about her. She always dances and doesn't do jack shiz around here." Morgan added.

Naomi hits Rosa with the rear view while AJ eliminates Natalya. AJ laughs at Natalya but turns around and gets hit by the rear view along with Eva. 

"Double rear view!" King shouted.

"I love Naomi, she's awesome." she grinned. 

Near the end of the match, it came down to Naomi and Rosa. Rosa hit Naomi with a swinging neckbreaker and began to dance again. Moments later, Naomi gets up and hits her with the rear view to eliminate her as the crowd cheers.

"Here is your winner, Naomi!" Lilian announced.

Morgan begins cheering for Naomi but then Rosa begins to attack her. The Outspoken Diva runs into the ring while Rosa slides out and smirks, grabbing a mic.

"You always want to be the hero, Morgan, but you can never live up to be me," she said while Morgan helped Naomi. "Who do you think you are? You think you're so high and great just because you've been a champion and how you are in a big and popular team. One day, I'm going to take that spot. Believe that and Believe in Rosa."

Morgan rolled her eyes, not paying her nonsense any mind and continued to help Naomi. But then Rosa decided to slide back into the ring.

"Morgan, behind you!" Cole warned but Rosa grabbed her by the hair from behind and slammed her down the mat. She begins unloading on her until The Shield rush down the ramp and tries to separate them. "And now The Shield are getting involved."

Ambrose manages to grab Morgan off of Rosa by the waist and drags her back while Seth and Roman hold Rosa. 

"You bitch!" The Outspoken Diva yelled. "Get the hell off of me! She needs an ass kicking, now!"

"Try me, chica!" Rosa yelled back.

"You wanna attack me from behind!? Really!?" she yelled while Dean tried to prevent her from going after her.

"This is interesting. But I don't think Rosa and Morgan are done with each other yet." JBL said.

Later on, The Shield was shown on the titantron backstage.

"Night, after night, after night, for over a year now, The Shield has proven to be the most dominant force and the most unstoppable unit in sports entertainment history, and that comes with a price," Dean said. "We don't make friends easy and tonight, the Royal Rumble match, we got 27 enemies in the ring with Seth, Roman and myself. But The Hounds are on the loose tonight and all 27 of those superstars are gonna get tossed, and flung, and dumped, over the top rope."

"Yes sir, one by one they are gonna fly and they are gonna fall," Roman added, earning some cheers from the crowd. "It's just gonna be the three of us, that remain."

"And at that point, it truly becomes every man for himself, now only one of us can go on and main event WrestleMania, we do get that. But when the Rumble is done, and one of us is left standing, The Shield, will still stand united."

"That's what I'm talkin' about. But I gotta tell you, boys, I know you can notice my energy, my swag is off the charts right now. I'm feeling confident that I got the winning number tonight."

Seth made a sound and looked at Dean. 

"Oh yeah?" Dean asked.

"Yeah," Roman replied.

"What number you got?"

"You better stay tuned. You'll find out later."

"If I tell you my number, will you tell me your number?"

"That sounds good, go ahead, shoot."

"I'm not gonna tell you my number! How do you know if I don't even have two numbers?"

"Nobody has two numbers..."

"I got all the numbers, all right "

"Hey! Hey!" Seth interrupted. "Look, it doesn't matter what numbers we drew. The only number that matters tonight...three." He put up three fingers.

Morgan 'Hmphs' and the camera showed her sitting down on a chair and looking at her phone as the crowd cheered. 

"Thanks for forgetting about me." She looked up at them.

"What do you mean?" Seth asked.

She smirked and stood up. "I just thought you should know that I'm going to be tweeting all night. And I want one of my hashtags to trend. Hashtag, Morgan's Hit List. I have a couple of people I want to take down tonight. And to prove myself. Oh, and by the way Roman..." She stepped up to him while he looked down at her. "Um...you better check your swag 'cause somebody may steal it."

The Shield watched her walk away, wondering what she meant. 

"What was that about?" Cole asked.

"Oh, I like this. This is going to be good." JBL said. "I got a good feeling tonight."

"Tell me," King demanded.

"We'll have to wait and see," JBL replied.

"Tell me in my ear." King insisted.

"Nope."

'In The Ring'

In the ring were 3MB, Seth, Punk, Jimmy Uso, Kofi, Jack, Alexander Rusev, Goldust, The Great Khali, and Cody while the Royal Rumble match was underway.

Morgan tweets 'Let me get this straight...3MB are STILL in this match? They should have gotten eliminated when they got in the ring.'

At ringside, Kofi got attacked by Alexander Rusev after he got eliminated and was planted on the barricade. 

"Kofi is out the ring but he hasn't been eliminated," Cole said.

"That's right, Kofi is still in it." JBL looked on.

Morgan tweets 'I know something awesome is about to happen. I'm waiting to be amazed Kofi. #Fly'

Kofi stands on top of the barricade and leaps and catches the ropes on the apron as the crowd cheers.

"You've gotta be kidding me!" Cole exclaimed as the superstars looked at Kofi in shock.

"Oh my God." JBL chuckled.

"What!?" King exclaimed when Kofi got back in the ring, getting hyped up.

Morgan tweets 'Holy crap! That was sick! I love it, Kofi! You rock!'

"He's hopped on chairs, he's walked on his hands, he's leaped from the barricade and into the ring," Cole said.

"Unbelievable," JBL exclaimed as the crowd began to count down again. "He's awesome!"

"He's a Royal Rumble Highlight Reel."

"I just said he can't fly but I believe he can," King said.

'Sierra'

'Hotel'

'India'

'Echo'

'Lima'

'Delta'

'Shield'

"Who is number 11? The United States Champion. Dean Ambrose." Cole announced as Dean walked out. Ambrose does the wave with his arm and runs to the ring.

"Well guys, this makes more of an uncomfortable situation," King said while Dean went after Kofi. "Two members of The Shield in the ring at the same time."

Morgan tweets 'My baby! My sexy Lunatic! Go get em!'

"Seth and CM Punk have been in this match up for 15 minutes so far," Cole informed while The Rhodes Brothers tried to eliminate Jack Swagger. 

3MB continued to gang up on Khali and they tried to eliminate him but had a hard time.

Morgan tweets 'Please get 3MB out of that friggin ring. #ASAP #ThreeManFail'

The match started to become a back and forth match, with the superstars trying to survive and prevent themselves from getting eliminated. The crowd begins to count down again and Dolph Ziggler comes out to a huge pop from the crowd.

"The Showoff, entering his 6th Royal Rumble match at number 12," Cole said while Dolph ran into the ring and got on the top rope to hit Dean with a dropkick.

"Whoa!" King exclaimed from the impact. 

While Dean is leaning on the turnbuckle, Dolph leaps on his and starts punching his face but gets grabbed by Punk and Seth. Dolph stumbles down the mat but begins to fight with Dean and tries to prevent himself from being eliminated. 

The crowd chants 'Let's Go Ziggler' before they count down again. R Truth runs down the ring and quickly goes after Dean until Seth and Dean gang up on him.

Morgan tweets 'That's right boys, take out the fresh man early.'

R Truth gets on the apron and punches Seth out of his way but gets dropkicked out of the ring by Dean.

"And R Truth eliminated!" Cole exclaimed.

"R Truth didn't last very long," King said while Jimmy got on the top rope but Seth caught him and Dean threw him out the ring.

Morgan tweets 'There's always 2015 Jimmy #YouCantHandleTheShield'

Dean and Seth regroup while Kofi gets on the apron. Jack Swagger hits him with a big boot but Kofi grabs it and leans all the way down. He takes off his shoe and leans back while having his feet up on the bottom rope. 

"Kofi is still in this!" Cole exclaimed while Kofi had Jack's shoe in his hands.

"What do you have to do to get rid of this guy?" JBL asked. 

Jack gets in between the ropes but gets hit by his shoe and Kofi gets back in the ring while the crowd applauds him.

Morgan tweets 'Kofi needs to be a back to back Slammy Award winner for Best Escape Plans for the Royal Rumble. That was sweet! Well done! I virtually applaud you.'

"This guy is like a cat, how many lives does he have?" King asked. 

The crowd begins to countdown again and this time, they go wild when Kevin Nash's theme comes on.

"Oh!" JBL and Cole exclaim.

"What!?" King yelled in a high pitched voice while Nash walked down the ring. "Are you kidding me!?"

Kevin gets in the ring and eliminates Swagger as the crowd cheers. Dean and Seth regroup and try to go after him but Kevin quickly takes control.

Morgan tweets 'OMG! #ItJustGotReal Go Kevin Nash! He looks great! He still got it even though he never lost it.'

Kevin tries to eliminate Dean while he tries to hold on. 

"Ambrose, I don't know if he's signally for help but I don't think anybody is gonna come to your aid Dean," King said while the crowd counted down again.

Seth leans on the bottom ropes while Punk gets in between the ropes and tries to eliminate him.

'Sierra'

'Hotel'

'India'

'Echo'

'Lima'

'Delta'

'Shield'

"He's the muscle of The Shield, Roman Reigns, who said he's gonna headline WrestleMania," Cole announced

Roman jogs down the ring and goes to ringside. He runs towards Punk and dropkicks him in the head to save Seth as the crowd 'Ohs'

"Did you see that?!" King asked.

Morgan tweets 'Damn Roman, those dropkicks are wicked!'

Morgan also tweets 'My boys are all in the ring. I hope they raise hell and dominate. I'm rooting for you! #Represent #BelieveInTheShield'

Roman quickly cleans house and spears Cody. Kofi goes for the Trouble In Paradise but Roman catches him and throws him out of the ring. 

"And Kingston eliminated!" Cole exclaimed. 

Dolph runs and hits Roman with a DDT. When they both stand up, Dolph runs to jump on his back but Roman grabs the ropes to throw him off. He runs towards him but Dolph gets speared as the crowd 'Ohs'

"God! What a spear by Reigns!" Cole continued. Roman turns around and sees 3MB taunting him. "What are they doing?"

"They are making a stupid mistake." JBL retorted.

Morgan tweets 'Wow...3MB is trying to stand up to Roman. Congrats #YouGrewASet #WantACookie?'

Morgan then tweets 'Actions speak louder than words, #ArmyOfOne #MakingAStatement #HeyEyesOnMe #TheFourthDiva'

Goldust, Roman, Seth, Dean, Cody, 3MB, Dolph and The Great Khali were still in the ring. 

"Let's see who is coming out next." Cole anticipated.

"10!"

"9!"

"8!"

"7!"

"6!"

"5!"

"4!"

"3!"

"2!"

"1!"

'I've had enough I'm taking you down, taking you down.'

"What!?" King screamed in a high pitched voice.

"Yes!" JBL yelled.

"No way," Cole shouted, shaking his head in disbelief. "So this is what she meant by saying that actions speak louder than words."

The Shield snap their heads to the ramp, looking confused. Punk turns his attention to the stage and smirks. 

"This is going to be good." Punk said. 

Morgan walks out to a big pop, wearing an attire to represent the CZW days which was jeans, a black tank top that stopped above her belly button, a black hoodie with the sleeves pulled up to her forearms and fingerless gloves. Her hair was curly at the ends too.

With the hoodie on her head, she took it off and put her hands on her hips, looking around confidently.

"Whoa, wait a minute, where is her Shield attire?" Cole asked.

"I don't care, Morgan is here! Yes!" King cheered. "One of my favorite divas!"

Morgan shrugged. "Couldn't resist." 

"I cannot believe she is in this match! She is in the Royal Rumble!" Cole shouted.

The Outspoken Diva looks in the ring to see all the superstars looking at her. "Ooh, I like the attention." She said and turned to the camera. "I'm the fourth diva! The fourth one. This is going to be interesting." 

She gave the camera two thumbs up and turned her attention to the ring. She does her taunt and spins around as the crowd cheers loudly.

"Here we go! The fourth diva to be a part of the Royal Rumble!" JBL announced while Morgan put four fingers up before tagging some hands.

She walks up the steps and slowly gets in by the middle rope while all the superstars stop what they were doing, to watch as she gets on the turnbuckle and does her taunt again.

"Let's friggin' go!" She yelled while the crowd cheered loudly in response.

"When's the last time we had a diva in the Royal Rumble? The last woman was Kharma right?" King asked.

"Oh yeah, and Kharma scared Cole." JBL laughed.

"Not funny..." Cole retorted.

"He had that ridiculous wrestling outfit on too." JBL continued.

The Fans tweet 'Yes! Yes! Morgan is in the Royal Rumble! #NowThisIsBestForBusiness'

'Yep, she's Chyna's Mini Me all right. 4th diva in WWE history to be a part of the Royal Rumble.'

'So that's why she kept putting up four fingers. Go after 3MB! #MorgansHitList'

Booker T tweets 'Oh shucky ducky quack quack! Morgan is in the Royal Rumble and she looking fine tonight.'

Titus tweets 'WWEMorgan101 deserves a five yard penalty for looking fine tonight #SorryNotSorryAmbrose'

The Bellas tweet 'Oh WWEMorgan101, you love to get down and dirty with the boys. We'll be rooting for you! Represent the Total Divas'

Rosa tweets 'So this is the reason you didn't want to be in the diva battle royal WWEMorgan101? How bold, but you won't even last five minutes in the Royal Rumble and that's a fact!'

Bayley tweets 'Yay! Go WWEMorgan101! I'm sending a virtual good luck hug!'

Cameron tweets 'Yeah gurl! WWEMorgan101 betta work!'

Eva Marie tweets 'Once again, WWEMorgan101 takes my spotlight, but oh well, I'll still cheer for her. There is always next year to be one of the divas in the Royal Rumble.'

Morgan jumps off the turnbuckle and looks at the superstars, staring at her. 

"What?" She looked confused. "You all are creeping me out. Take a picture, it'll last longer."

3MB takes Khali down and turns to her. 

Heath taunted her by having his arms out. "You think you'll last in this match, little girl? This match is for MEN. Not little girls, like you."

"Get out of the ring!" Drew yelled and started to gang up on her but Morgan stood her ground and began to slowly smirk.

"Do we need to make you get out of the ring?" Jinder asked, getting in her face but she pushed him away.

"Step back." She retorted.

"You think we're scared of you?" Drew asked.

"Try me." she motioned them to come at her.

"This is too funny, come on boys." Heath started walking up to her. "Let's teach this woman a lesson."

"Okay, you asked for it!" She hits Heath with a spinning kick in the face, dropping him to the mat as the crowd cheers. 

Drew and Jinder look down at Heath in surprise and glare at her. Morgan's legs began to have a mind of their own and went into survival mode while Drew and Jinder lunged at her. She quickly ducks their clotheslines and kicks them down. All of a sudden, Goldust, Cody, and Dolph began to go after her.

"Step away!" She warned while The Shield watched on, still processing that she was actually in this match and didn't tell them. 

Goldust, Cody and Dolph were about to lunge at her but she drops them down with a kick to the face too.

"Kick, after kick! She's not messing around, she's serious about this." Cole said.

"She told me she had some unfinished business with Orton," JBL replied.

Morgan looks down at Cody, who was the last person she kicked and runs her right hand through her hair.

She turns around to see Punk and The Shield leaning on the ropes, watching her.

"Hey, how ya doing?" She waved.

------

Favorite Hashtag?

#SorryNotSorryAmbrose

#NowThisIsBestForBusiness

#MorgansHitList

#HeyEyesOnMe

#MakingAStatement

#TheFourthDiva

#ArmyOfOne

#YouGrewASet

#WantACookie?

#BelieveInTheShield

#MorganIsReadyToRumble

#BelieveInMe

#ASAP

#ThreeManFail

#Fly

#ItJustGotReal

#YouCantHandleTheShield

#Represent

[unorthodox-soundwave]

Okay, so now what I've slept and the episode is up on YouTube, I'm gonna dump all my thoughts on For The Future out in a single (very long) post like I did for Thanks To Them.

Of course, that means heavy spoilers, so do not click keep reading unless you've seen the episode (or if you don't care about spoilers for the ep, which makes me wonder how you even got to this post).

Okay so. Oh my titan. Where do I start? Beginning's probably the best choice.

I had a hunch they'd do the 'End of King's Tide from the other perspective' thing, but I can't say any of that quite went how I was expecting. I kinda thought—and I think a lot of other people did too—that King was gonna be fully separated from the rest of group on the BI from the moment the Collector was let out. Lilith and Eda both attempting to confront the Collector and save King immediately was not at all what I really expected.

I'm a little curious as to how the three of them made it to the point that they did after the intro, though. I get that Lilith made new elixir for Eda's curse, but then how did Lilith get un-puppetified ahead of that? I might've missed a detail somewhere, but as far as I can remember that wasn't really elaborated on. Maybe King asked the Collector to un-puppet her?

I do love the new designs for Eda and Lilith though. Lilith's hair being back to her natural color does make it really feel like it's been a long time (plus it makes her color palette look a bit more like the aroace flag hehehe). I also like that Eda's arm hasn't been replaced by anything, just bandaged. I feel like I saw a lot of people's design-guesses for her had given her a new arm in some capacity, and I always kinda felt like it was more in-character for Eda to not really see it as something that needs a replacement.

At least they still seem to be a bit happy.

But, moving on from that, I'm absolutely going absolutely insane over the fact that the Hexsquad and Eda/Lilith/King still haven't actually gotten to reunite. Like, the Hexsquad saw King, but other than that, nobody's really aware of how the other group is doing at this point. It hurts so bad.

But speaking of the Hexsquad, there's a lot to unpack with them. I'm kind of amazed how many personal arcs are still getting fit into the show with so few epsiodes.

Willow's arc especially kind of surprised me, though it's a welcome one for sure! It was—for better or worse for myself—a very relatable thing to see portrayed how it was. And the way it tied into Hunter's whole deal as well was so artfully done.

Like, damn, this hurts.

Immediately following up the Hunter-saves-Willow scene of that arc with Luz's "The only thing I've ever really wanted was to be understood" felt like it was equally calling me out. Like damn, all these characters are so relatable it hurts.

The way Camila and Luz's arcs in this episode informed one another was super elegant. Their daughter relationship is so wholesome.

Amity getting her chance to finally confront Boscha fully was another thing I really wasn't expecting to still make it into the season with it cut down so much. In fact, I can't say I was expecting Boscha to get a chance for any sort of active role. I really need to stop underestimate how well Dana and her team are managing to work with the small number episodes, they clearly know what they're doing.

Which, as it stands, I guess the only member of the Hexsquad who hasn't had a significant season 3 arc is Gus (outside of his role in Hunter and Willow's arcs), but he went through so much in season 2 that I kinda hope he doesn't have to go through anything more.

However, a character I DO hope has to go through more BS is Belos. I'm still kinda reeling from the fact that he apparently already had a new grimwalker on the way, and then tried to POSSESS it. I'm a bit relieved that it didn't work, because I don't think I could've handled it (nor could Hunter, frankly), but Raine being the second option isn't great either.

Moving past main characters;

Getting actual characterization of The Collector has been very interesting, mainly because it seems like everyone seemed to get it pretty right that they're an Enzo Gabriel. I really do wonder how aware they are of the harm they're doing, because it seems to be getting kept a bit vague on the actual truth of that. They seem pretty largely oblivious to the fact that it's anything other than a game, but the edit to the 'bedtime story' seems to imply that they at least know some amount of it.

What affairs? "Seal them up so they never fade"??

Mom-dalia??? How in the name of the titan did she manage to pull off getting to be The Collector's mom-figure instead of getting puppeted immediately. It kind of implies that she somehow hasn't managed to actively do a single thing that annoyed the Collector this whole time, which I'm amazed by. Though, to be fair, Terra apparently hadn't done so either, so the bar might not be that high.

Caleb and the past grimwalkers have me a little confused. Are they ghosts? Guilt-formed hallucinations? Something else? Is there a link between grimwalkers and their creators that means Belos has been getting haunted by all of them this whole time? Regardless, seeing a bunch of the past grimwalkers was not something I expected either.

This shot is haunting as hell.

Mattholomule's name actually being Mat Tholomule does feel like it makes sense in retrospect, but it's also very cursed.

Edric and Emira's reunion with Amity was the first part of the episode that got me to start crying (though it was far from the last.)

Moving past characters...

The scene that revealed String Bean was kind of funny to me because "A dragon? A bird?! Oh, an otter! A spooky bat? Uh, a snake?" is almost definitely a direct callout of the fandom's guesses as time went on. Though, all of the respective guesses are also very in-character for each person (Hunter's "A bird?!" does hurt my heart a little).

The design of The Collector's House/The Archives is a little interesting to me because the way it's floating over The Titan's head makes it look like a halo. Or a crown? I feel like there's some symbolism I'm missing.

New Hexside was a very fun concept in general. I feel like the idea of "a town/society that's entirely composed of schoolchildren" was very accurately portrayed.

I dunno if the scene right at the end was meant to be the 100% canon confession or just lead-up to something in the next episode but I sobbed either way!!!!!

*chanting* Huntlow! Huntlow! Huntlow!

I think I've finally run out of things to say (though that might change).

[wyverndragonborn]

My personal review of Sea Of Solitude

I really don't review games very often, and this is the first time I've done so completely unprompted (This review will likely contain spoilers). I played this game on Switch, in English. Everything from the scenery to the controls to the voice acting was perfect. I'm an absolute sucker for collectibles, so the bottled messages and seagulls definitely added something for me. Along with that, the messages added to the story itself, the background of the character we play. The narrative is powerful and emotional, and it really hit close to home for me. It's not often that a game makes me cry but this one managed it multiple times throughout.

(Note I'm adding part way through writing the next part- I am really trying to make this good but my brain is deciding to be a little robot monkey playing cymbals instead of working :/ apologies if part of this is mid)

(This is turning into more of a summary than a review-)

[Spoilers start here, it's up to you whether you read past this but initially not knowing added a lot for me tbh. I got this game just because it looked neat and I felt I would like it.]

I loved that I didn't know right away what was going on. In most games I prefer to know what I'm doing but this just felt right. A journey that I'm stumbling through until I get my bearings. My favorite part of the first level is definitely the school. You get to know what your brother is feeling, and, for me at least, it makes you angry. You have to help him. The entire time you're trying to get to him you hear the words the bullies flung at him and it pushes you forward. And next to that is guilt. Getting to know through the storyline that you let this happen without even knowing it.

Part of what hit so close to home is that I myself am an older sibling with parents who can't stand each other anymore- and I've felt the guilt that this game tackles at points. The idea that if it wasn't for me, they could have left each other whenever they wanted. There was a rift between the mother and father characters in this game. They couldn't communicate, the father was so focused on getting enough money to keep his family happy that he couldn't see how unhappy they were. The mother was exhausted and lonely, and couldn't even speak to him about it without him being upset (going off of in-game dialog). They were both tired. They didn't know what to do. They just turned it into anger.

You end up in the same position as the character's mother. Walking on eggshells with someone you're supposed to love. And you just keep trying to help them. You keep trying to tell yourself everything is fine. Telling yourself that you're the problem.

One thing I knew I wanted to mention in this is how it starts to feel at a point. I'm not great with numbers or keeping track of what chapter I'm on though. You start to feel tired, emotionally, from helping the people you knew. And I don't mean that in a bad way at all. It feels right for the topic. You have done so much to try and help, but you can't join the people you've helped. You're still separated. And you start to wonder if your fear, that horrible monster that blocks your path, is right. Maybe you can't fix it all. Maybe it's pointless. But you continue on anyway.

Ultimately, you need to help yourself.

Over all, I cannot overstate how much I love this game. I can definitely see myself replaying it, which isn't something I usually do for games without a lot of endings. I would recommend it to anyone who likes emotional narratives, exploration, and games with monsters. Absolute 10/10. End of the game was spoiled a bit by my brother who can't take anything seriously though, so best played alone or in serious company.

[smokingoutthewindow]

If I don't care then why am I still angry?

You said we'd be friends forever

Not that you'd leave me without a word

Better to just ghost me then give me the explanation I deserved

I wish you had told me you hated me

That I had brainwashed you into thinking you were queer, that I was mean about your interests, that I was too obsessed with tumblr, that I said too much shit about your mom

That you were done getting into trouble over me, that you were done trying to find a way to fit me into your life

That you had found better friends who all said to leave me

That you realized I was just like my dad and left

That you grew bored of me, that I scared you, that I was hypocritical, that I had tried to sell you off to Andy and you couldn't look at me the same

That you didn't love me anymore

I wish you had told me all the worst things I've ever thought. You had years of ammo

All my most embarrassing mistakes, most self-centered delusions, most idiotic blunders, most harmful beliefs

My daddy issues, my mental health problems, my self-harm and suicidal ideation

All the good things I prided myself on, that I valued as part of my identity

You knew every single one

You could have ruined me and it would have made me feel better than I do now

I just want to know why you left

Want to know if I hurt you, want to know what I did that made me unworthy of a good bye

As furious as I am, I still love you

It's the kind of anger mixed with longing that taints all my dreams

I see you all the time

Sometimes you are kind to me. We're as close again as we ever were.

I remember when you told me we'd get married if neither of us were by forty and I almost cry because I am nineteen and you are gone

Sometimes you are apologetic, swooping in with an iron clad, excusable reason for your disappearance begging for another chance with open arms

Tearfully explaining your regrets, the terrible chain of events that separated us and how none of it matters now

Because you're here and you want me back

In some dreams I react with joy, others apprehension

But regardless I always come back around

Other times you're angry at me, dredging up the meanest things I've ever said, shouting how I pushed you away, how I made you feel weak and little and small

How you've never met anyone who treated you as badly as I did

Sometimes you're sad, telling me it was for the best, that it can't be changed, can't be fixed

I remember so many things

The rainbow BFF necklaces you bought

Spending your birthday watching Adventure Time, eating brownies in your living room

I called you Kendred because I thought we were kindred spirits

Listening to your favorite music

You hugging me close as I sobbed after my dad grabbed me and threatened me in the kitchen

Joking about songs by the Ataris and taking long walks to the corner store on Valentine's Day, in freezing cold and snow cuz love was stupid anyway and VD stands for Venereal diseases and who wants any of that

I wrote on your mirror all your reasons to stay alive

Trading stickers on your floor, making pancakes for breakfast

Water balloon fights

Long late night FaceTime calls writing shitty fanfiction

Comforting you after fights with your mom, dad, brother

Going for a walk and getting followed by that low ride hoopty

Trying to play the out of tune piano that sits in your dad's TV room

Sleepovers with As Above, So Below

You helping me come to terms with being a lesbian

Me coming out to you, the second person I ever told, while crying, hiding in the closet so no one would hear

Our picnic in the park, four years ago to the day

You dming our DND sessions, creating characters with unique voices and epic personalities

Mixing drinks in your creeper cup

The weighted blanket I bought you and ironed patches on

The first time u picked me up in your car, after I got my wisdom teeth out

You were so far from the Wendy's window you had to open the door

I loved you so fiercely, so strongly, so completely

Was I nothing to you? Or was I so much that you couldn't bare to share me?

I wish you would tell me

I'll never know

And I sit here by myself and I spiral

Crying on my own because I can't ask for help

How can I depend on my friends when my best one could do that to me? How can I trust them not to leave me too?

To open up my soul, swirl and sip the insides

So intrinsically a part of me, a part you, a part of themselves

You're still here. I can't delete all the photos. It's four whole years of my life

I can't get rid of my sailor moon pajamas

Those crystals you bought me

My very first pen

Your old clothes, that striped sweater that was my favorite that now I can't bare to wear

I hate you for doing this to me

I hate myself for letting you

[lenixsocial]

Well, it's been a year...

My dad died a year ago on the 21st of January. It's been a solid year's worth of existing in a world without him. That's less stress, less judgment, less anxiety, and less of family.

I spent most of my adult life wondering what it would be like.

My dad was a dichotomy: he both loved his kids, and would do most anything for them. This is in contrast to being a right bastard and emotionally (and physically) abusive throughout his life when he didn't get his way, or when others were doing things that he thought should go another way. He was manipulative, and cruel. I never bore that out as a youth, but both my half brothers did. I only experienced it later in my life.

To the outside world he was a saint. Everyone loved him where he worked, his friends would tell you about how he'd help the homeless out or any number of charitable deeds. I honestly do believe in the fact that he'd give the coat off his back for someone in need. It's just that this stands in such contrast to the absolute and utter chaos of his home life.

I could list a litany of things I put up with as a kid, which were treated as 'a funny story' which now would be considered 'abuse'. And my half brother Kevin and I have spent the better part of this year digging deep and coming to terms with events and kind of recategorizing them for what they are and healing from that.

Last Night I had a very lucid dream where I was walking through the neighborhood he grew up in. I stopped in at an old diner he used to frequent and ordered some cheese coneys and couldn't get the words out. I had to excuse myself and went outside and saw a procession carrying a casket with him in it. I got a call from my other half brother Gene who said he couldn't make it to the procession but wanted me to lead it.

I declined. He got mad at me and I said that I was done and began to walk away when the casket opened and he strolled across the street to me.

He said he missed everyone and didn't want it to be like this (pretty much the moment he died the family split). Those who back his ex-wife and those who don't. He said he didn't want the separation. I looked at this figment directly in his eyes and said "too fucking bad...you did this. This is your legacy. This is what you left behind". I then said "I still talk to my brothers. That's all I need. I was never close to any other family, they all back her and I don't really need to have heart to hearts with people I don't know, people who insult the memory of my mother, and insult my niece and her kids. No. The family is fragmented. In time it'll heal, this will all be memories but you've left it with her. This is not what you wanted, but it's your comeuppance." He then uttered "take care of each other at least". To which I said that I would. He then sat down and said he failed. I looked down at him sitting in a gutter and said "Tabetha told me that I had to stop the martyr complex years ago. You looked like a fool. You acted like one too. People aren't your puppets. They're gonna do what they're gonna do. You didn't drive them to this. They chose it. You can't control everything. And you sure as hell can't get everything you want".

He sighed and looked up and me and said "I'll see you around son. Tell Tabetha I love her too. I love Kevin and Gene. Tell them." I was about to say "they know". And he was gone.

I then spent another fifteen or so minutes this morning reflecting on things before coming to this conclusion: He's gone. You will recall the good times, forget the bad, learn from the mistakes, and go forth. All you can do is what you are capable of doing. You can only control yourself.

I remain in a gulley where I'm even keeled on his legacy of help, and wanting to forget the anguish he's caused.

The only solace is that there's peace now.

[waywardxrhea]

Part Forty-One: Sisters

[slow burn romance between Steve Rogers and SHIELD agent Emma Baker]

Warnings: 18+, contains humor, fluff, mental health, family trauma, romance, angst, language, violence.

installment list

Word count: 1.1k

Emma pays a visit to Natasha.

One day Emma heads to the Compound to talk with Natasha in person about something that Rocket told her in an email the day before. When she arrives, Emma doesn't find Natasha in any of her usual spots. As she begins to wander trying to find Natasha, she hears piano music playing faintly from somewhere in the distance.

Inclined to see who is playing the piano, Emma goes to investigate and follows the sound to the gym where she sees Natasha dancing ballet beautifully. She silently enters the room to watch but is caught quickly by Natasha and her instinctual awareness of her surroundings. Natasha quickly turns off the music and says, "I'm sorry, I didn't expect you for a little while longer."

"No need to apologize. I didn't mean to interrupt," Emma tells her. She pauses and adds, "Your dancing is beautiful by the way."

Natasha smiles weakly and replies, "Beauty and grace in dance were instilled in me from a young age. Dance was one of the only things that made me happy in the Red Room though so I still do it when... well when things get to be too much for me." She takes off her ballet shoes and continues with a quiet laugh, "When things got hard, Steve had the punching bags, you had music you blasted, Sam cooked, but me? I've always danced when things got rough. Up until now, it was a secret I kept to myself."

"Well it can still be a secret if you want," Emma replies and pretends to zip her lips closed and tosses away the fake key.

"Thanks," Nat replies.

As Natasha stands up after taking off her gear and disconnecting her phone from the speaker, Emma asks, "If you don't mind my asking what got to you? You know what made you need to...dance it out and all."

Natasha sighs. She contemplates not saying anything at all but knows that keeping it in isn't helping anyone so she asks, "Can you make some of that famous tea of yours and we can talk?"

"You've got yourself a deal," Emma replies with a smile. After Emma makes the tea she sits down across from Natasha and asks, "So what's on your mind?"

Natasha takes a sip of the hot tea and admits, "There are just some days where I can't handle it all. I miss everyone so much and I feel useless because I can't find a way to bring them back..."

"I know how you feel..." Emma tells her with a sigh. "I didn't leave the lodge for the longest time because I got in such a bad headspace in blaming myself and trying to figure out something to bring them back."

Natasha wipes the tears from her eye and asks, "And you're doing fine now, how'd you get out of that mental space?"

"I couldn't have done it without Steve," she replies. "He finally got me in a place where I could start talking about my feelings instead of holding everything in and that really helped. Being away from all of this probably also helped to separate me from it all. Why don't you try that? You can come live with us again if you want so you don't have to be here reliving what happened all the time."

"Someone has to be here in case something happens, you know that."

"But just sitting around here the past three years hasn't helped your mental health at all, Nat," Emma tells her sadly. She studies Natasha for a few seconds and asks, "It's not just waiting around for the possibility of saving everyone is it?"

"Maybe you're good at this whole reading people thing, Baker," Natasha tries to joke. "But yeah, it's not just waiting around for that. It's also been trying to track down Clint."

"Track him down? Didn't he survive though?"

"Yeah, he did. And that's the thing. Out of his whole family, he's the only one who survived and it broke him. Lately, he's been operating under the name Ronin and killing crime bosses around the world. While that is good for controlling crime and all, obviously there are other more ethical ways that he could be doing that," she tells her.

"Oh God Clint..." Emma whispers. "And you haven't been able to reach out to him?"

"Nope. Phone always goes straight to voicemail and texts are left on read," Nat replies quietly. "I've tried tracking him down but he's my best friend, he's always one step ahead of me because he knows how I operate in and out on these kinds of things."

"I could help if you wanted," Emma offers.

Natasha shakes her head. "While I appreciate the offer, I couldn't take you away from your calm life with Steve. I also don't want you back in the headspace of blaming yourself like before. I can't have anyone else end up like him."

"Well, what about Rhodes? Can he help track Clint down?"

"He's been all over the world trying to help get things back and running. Even after three years, there are still some places in disarray and chaos. He doesn't know about Clint as far as I know and I don't plan on telling him."

"Banner?"

"He's...he's been MIA," Natasha sighs. "The last thing he told me was that he was trying to figure out the whole Hulk situation."

"Damn..." Emma whispers. "And Thor still isn't doing great?"

Nat shakes her head, "Hell I think you've talked with him more recently than I have."

"Well, the only time I can get ahold of him is when he's playing that dumb video game that just came out, and every time I try and get him to talk things out he kills my character and blocks me," Emma tells her. "I can only come up with so many usernames before I run out of ideas."

"Damn..." Natasha whispers. The two sit in silence for a minute in sadness about the disorder all of their friends are in.

As Emma finishes off her tea, she asks Natasha, "Hey, how about to keep your mind off of things, once a week I can drive up here and we can spend quality time together? I play the piano, you dance, and we get all the bad feelings out so things aren't so sad all the time. I can tell you're lonely and I want to be here with you when I can."

Natasha smiles and nods. "I would really, really like that. Thank you, Emma."

So that's what they did. Every week, when Natasha was feeling lonely she would call Emma up for a dance session. Emma would play the piano in the living room area of the compound and Natasha would dance until her feet bled. The freedom of dancing liberated her from the confines of her thoughts so she didn't care about the pain. During this time, the pair strengthened their bond into one that could never be broken, from a bond of friendship to a bond of sisterhood and love.

next chapter

taglist: @mrsevans90

[mypeacewithreece]

I don't want to take the power away from you, but you don't want this to be your burden. You don't want this on your conscience, your heart. Am I correct?

So, This falls on me.

You have made it very clear that you won't be with me until Jared is out of the picture. I'm choosing to not remove him at this time, thereby "forcing your hand" to choose her.

I love you. You don't need to give her up.

God is giving you what you've wanted.

You thanked me for my voicemail. But did it really cross a boundary you've put in place? She doesnt push your boundaries. I do. Was it unwanted. Did you listen to it last night after talking on the phone with her all night? Did you read my other posts on here after the angry one you posted? (Those questions are rhetorical at this point .)

You said you were struggling yesterday...

You thanked me for softening, you tell me you just need to know that I love you, that I am your rock.

I love you. Always.

Its hard to end this with me. I understand. You're making this easier for me by showing me where you are during this process. I'm not angry and you don't need to respond. I mistakenly called you twice yesterday and mentioned that I hoped you would check on here because I thought my words would help, not manipulate. But here I am doing the wrong thing again. Waiting for you.

You said you were going to make yourself more alone to be in touch with God. But this feels like you're allowing yourself to go no contact with me pain and guilt free because that's what "we" decided. I don't really know what you're going through. Just from what I observe and feel. What was this really about. You just needed a break from me, relief from this? You've said that many times when I didn't have you backed into a corner.

God has set this time up with her perfectly for you this past weekend. You don't need to question where you are with her or worry about where she thinks you are. You don't need to worry where we stand either.

I need this separation more than you do. Pain causes growth. I'm glad God gave you someone to help you through this process. You've told me what you need. I have tried to end it with you so many times and again on Monday And here we are. I feel the same way I did that day.

I learned yesterday that my need for speed and my sense of urgency gets me in trouble. I react in haste. I react to make a decision so one is made rather than weighing the results carefully.

I am not in charge of this. But I am in charge of what I keep allowing to happen. I need to heal also and forgive myself for what I've done. Then I'll be ready to be a new person for you.

You will get up tomorrow and talk to your girlfriend, read Tumblr (maybe not because of the heaviness that it could bring) then head to work. Your work day will be busy, doubtful that you will have a chance to be careful with your words And post on Tumblr, then call her after work and end another night with her.

Such is your routine. How is it you have even less time for me now. As busy as my life is/ will be, I have made you a priority to the best of my ability. You have made her a priority which allows you to feel loved and cared for. This in turn is you loving yourself and making yourself a priority.

The truth is, now that you're official, you will have more obligations to her. They are unspoken but they are there. Things will change in your head, maybe in hers. I don't know. I can't get caught up in that. CAN'T.

Starting on Saturday, Aug 12, The world didn't crumble because we didn't talk as much. The opposite occurred, you reached for peace with her. You made it official with her "naturally".

Monday we decided to go "no contact". As if I believed Ireally could. But at least in my attempt, I have given you a reprieve from this. My emotions.

I don't know why next Monday is a deadline, we can stretch it longer. Not to decide to be together, not to share what we've learned. We can decide to continue our lives separately. If this is the way we go "no contact" it won't be so bad.

This will get easier. You have your bandaid. I will find mine.

I guess we'll wait for our time. You deserve to know its the right time And feel it in your gut. I deserve to know that you're with me of your own free will.

1:11am 8/16

[ohfiendangelical]

@unpossession SAID:    Dear Zero, I'm in a better place than the last time we spoke but still have many circling thoughts. So I thought I'd write you this letter, a more fitting goodbye for us, maybe, even if a large part of me wishes that it wasn't goodbye. It probably won't be. LA is apparently much smaller than I ever thought it would be and we're far more tangled than even I had realised when we were together. I miss you. I don't miss all of the running away and crying so much, the shrieking and the horror. At least not right now, though there are separate hours in the night where I do and I won't deny they are as loud as this part now, missing the way your hand felt in mine and the smell of your hair. You've told me to block your number and have my meltdown and you're right. I do feel better for it. It still makes me sad to think that it all came to this. You're wrong about a few things, and you wont believe me when I tell you but I'll tell you in writing. You said I don't even like you, but I do. You're wicked. I mean it the same way that I meant it the first time, and even if I can't get myself to embrace what you've made me right now, I don't judge you or reject you for any of it. You're horrible and mean and cruel and you hurt me very badly. You could say the exact same thing about me and it would be true as well. We are the same muddy reflection of one another. Seeing different things, the same things. You don't know me and I don't know you. You're afraid to know me, I think. I should be more afraid to know you. I was, before. But my eyes are open now. Awake. Sentient, like you said. Write me back if you like. I miss our letters. Otherwise, I'll stay away. I love you. You say it'll pass. Maybe it will. Willow.   ☆     send FANMAIL!

Zero is immediately weary when he sees the envelope. He doesn’t really want to know what she has to say. There’s nothing she could say that hasn’t been said already, anyway; he knows her talking points and is uninterested in revisiting them, no matter how eloquent and introspective she makes herself sound on paper. He’s exhausted—and more than that, he’s bored. This stopped being fun a while ago, and even the poetic drama of being strung along is losing its color. 

He drops the letter into the trash without opening it and goes about his day. 

Several hours later, he goes to throw away a candy wrapper and is confronted with the envelope again. He’d forgotten about it until now—which is some progress, at least—but he’s annoyed to find himself curious. I should’ve burned it, he thinks, pulling it from the bin. 

The paper smells faintly of garbage. This small lack of pretense soothes him. 

He only reads the letter once. It doesn’t need to be poured over, not this time. He’s done pouring over her words, especially when it’s everything he expected it would be, give or take. The only thing that really gets under his skin is her almost wilful misunderstanding of what he meant by sentient—but even that is appropriate, he thinks, in its own way. Emblematic of her wilful misunderstanding of him. 

He folds the letter neatly and drops it back into the trash. Opening his phone, he looks at the one-sided text thread, his every private thought met with an automatic message could not be sent error. He laughs a little at his own dramatics, deletes every bleeding-wound text he tried to send, and blocks the number.

Domino scampers across the floor and stands on his hind legs to demand attention. Zero scoops him up with a laugh, putting him on his shoulder. He cuts up an apple and feeds the smaller slices to his little friend.

Maybe he'll throw a party tonight.