#i’m gonna start being hyper aware of the reblogs being on and off on posts now bc

[saetoru]

i casually asked this person to delete this post they reblogged from me bc it was a shit post meant to be funny but it was kinda personal so i didn’t want it floating on random blogs and they hit me with “it’s a funny post and ppl are allowed to reblog them so you should stop policing their reblogs” and i was like ???? ok ?????? idc ???? it’s MY blog and MY post and i’m asking u to delete ur reblog bc it’s personal and also don’t act entitled give me an attitude on my page and they called me argumentative 😭 like bro just delete the rn and move on jeez

[moongirlcleo]

I posted 488 times in 2022

That's 488 more posts than 2021!

187 posts created (38%)

301 posts reblogged (62%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@hahaalaine

@ravewoodx

@nalu-trashytrash

@nashadragneel

@xanvasofxords

I tagged 168 of my posts in 2022

#fairy tail - 72 posts

#for some reason my tumblr theme won't let me share asks directly so this is what i have to do i am sorrryyy - 67 posts

#fairy tail fandom - 54 posts

#anon ask/request - 44 posts

#fairy tail headcanon - 38 posts

#fairy tail headcanons - 37 posts

#fairy+tail+x+reader - 34 posts

#levy’s drawings - 28 posts

#anon ask - 26 posts

#asks - 19 posts

Longest Tag: 107 characters

#for some reason my tumblr theme won't let me share asks directly so this is what i have to do i am sorrryyy

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

I am by no means an artist, but every now and again I try to re create drawings I find online. (I wish I had the credit for the original drawing) but in any case, here's the dragneel boys.

72 notes - Posted August 1, 2022

#4

Okay but like, hear me out.

This can’t be a coincidence but how is Stardew Valley gonna have two besties that look VERY SIMILAR to Sting and Rogue AND have one of them obsessed with frogs? I see you Concerned Ape, you secret Fairy Tail fan, you.

82 notes - Posted July 21, 2022

#3

Hi anon! Thank you so much ! When it comes to Sting… well you bet I can. This man is the love of my life so let’s get right to it 😉😂

Dating Sting be like: (SFW)

You’re dating one of the most popular Sabertooth members, and now guild master. Expect lots of looks of jealousy from everyone when you go out together.

Because of that, Sting is hyper aware that you’re probably self conscious about it so expect soft pda- nose kisses, forehead kisses, hand grabbing, tight hugs.

He’s shit at cooking, but you’re his princess so he’s going to try. But by try, it means he ropes Minerva and rogue to help him make something worthy of you.

He’s also a goofball, so expect silly pranks often. Hell ask you to prank lector and Rogue all the time. Just go with it, it makes the man’s heart swell.

Sting often puts off his duties as guild master to go on jobs with you, or spend time with you. you’re going to have to convince him to do that paperwork somehow.

He wants cuddles. All the cuddles. Cuddle that dragon please. If you don’t he’ll start to whine. Even though You find it adorable, he low key will start to wonder if you found another mate if you’re not as affectionate as usual.

Tell him you love him. Often. Whispering it in his ear or giving him encouragement to do the thing will be the quickest way to get a smile on his face.

He’s secretly a soft boi, but he’s got a reputation to uphold in the guild as it’s master.

He knows you’re incredibly powerful and can handle yourself on jobs, but he’s so protective. If it’s not him going with you, it’ll 100% be Rogue or Yukino. You’ve argued that you’re just as capable but he wouldn’t approve any jobs until you compromised.

Rogue is absolutely your shadow. You hated it at first, feeling like you’re being baby sat by your boyfriends best friend. Until you got to know rogue. Quickly the quiet shadow dragon became your closest friend too. Plus, who can resist Frosch and the cuteness of that bean?

Ill totally do a part two if you guys like this but I’m serious. I’m obsessed with this blonde idiot and I could write all day about him 😂 I hope you enjoy this anon! ❤️

136 notes - Posted July 27, 2022

#2

Hiiii! I am good, thanks for being patient with me while my week has been so busy! Here are your HC’s as requested <3

When Sting meets his future s/o -

* When Sting first notices future s/o was during the Grand Magic Games X791. She was on Fairy Tail team A. She was really gorgeous, to which Lector teased him about staring for too long, but Sting of course denied that.

* The next round of matches found this mystery girl paired up with Minerva. Sting settled back into his chair, content to watch Minerva wipe the floor with this girl to help erase her from his mind.

* Imagine Sting and the rest of Sabertooth’s surprise when future s/o unleashes Dragon Force and proceeds to beat Minerva’s spatial magic without breaking a sweat.

* Jaws. To. The. Floor. Sting and Lector couldn’t help but stare as future s/o grinned directly up at the Sabertooth booth. Sting wasn’t sure what to make of it, apart from the fact he was instantly curious about this girl.

* Sting Rogue and the exceeds went for a walk later that evening to escape the wrath that Jiemma was going to unleash on Minerva. They wandered through Crocus just enjoying the weather and sights, when Sting spotted future s/o in a shop, talking with an elderly woman. He pulled his friend into the shop, pretending as if he was suddenly craving a pastry.

* “That’s a really funny way of saying you wanted to talk to her, Sting,” Rogue calls him out on his shit because he finds it hilarious.

* Throughout the rest of the games, Sting tries to find any and every chance to talk to future s/o, or be within five feet of her to try to get a read on her, but she tries to pay him no mind, thinking he was trying to distract her.

* After Fairy Tail wins the games, he corners her during the celebratory party and asks her on a date finally. To which she smiles and says “maybe.”

138 notes - Posted September 4, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I'm so sorry but this made me actually chuckle lmao. Your answer is so adorable hahaha.

Okay, I will do my best! I hope you enjoy.

Dating Laxus be like: (NSFW)

Bite marks. You thought you'd hide them? Guess again. Man's gonna pin you down and give you more.

Don't expect lovey-dovey romance from Laxus. He's basically a kuudere, but in private things are a bit different.

He's a dom. No doubt about it, something about telling you what do you and how to get him off drives him wild.

His favorite activity is either doggy style or a bj. But I bet you could beg him for something, you're just too cute...

Try roleplaying with him for a fun time.

He wouldn't let you go on jobs with you at the beginning because he didn't want to have to worry about your safety, but Evergreen basically slapped him to his senses.

Laxus isn't jealous whatsoever. A guy is flirting with you during a celebration? That's fine -- he'll sit back and watch because he knows he'll have you naked later anyway.

He'll finish inside you every time, because he has a secret breeding kink. But ask him and he'll deny it.

I know there's not a lot but I hope you enjoy this little HC imagine of our favorite lightning dragon.

142 notes - Posted August 15, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

LMFAO WHY IS MY LAXUS HC THE TOP POST 😂😂

[leahazel]

More about my morally-grey heroines and their messed-up relationships

I wanted to elaborate on this post I wrote about D&F and BFS, but it turns out that adding readmore links to reblogs is a PITA, and I just now that this is gonna turn into a fucking novelette. 

So here we go.

Time to go into some detail about this!

Let’s define our terms:

“Decline and Fall” is my 120K+ series of loosely chronological, interconnected short fics, set in a tiny fandom for a visual novel that’s been in alpha development since 2015. For the record, the word count disincludes unfinished drafts, and stories that I’m holding back because they’re based on canon spoilers.

“Blood from Stone“ is my 100K unfinished Skyrim WIP, which began as a response to a kink meme prompt, and is not so much a rarepair as a non-existent one.

Both of these stories centrally feature young female protagonists and their sexual relationship with a much older man. Both heroines are... “grey” to say the least.

Let’s compare our fandoms, shall we?

Skyrim is a juggernaut fandom for a super-popular RPG which is part of a 30-yo franchise. The setting is moderately dark and casually sprinkled with murder cults, cannibalism, secret police death squads, and the prison industrial complex. The player character can be a thief and a murderer and everyone just learns to be okay with it because the only alternative is a fiery apocalypse. They also rob graves for the lulz.

Seven Kingdoms: The Princess Problem is a pinkie-toe-sized fandom for a hybrid RPG and dating sim where attractive young people flirt and date for the purpose of brokering world peace. The setting is one where you can actually broker world peace effectively. The player character can perpetrate a fair amount of proxy violence, but maintaining a good reputation dishonestly is legitimately difficult.

Now, let’s compare our heroines:

Corinne is a 24-year-old bounty hunter who became a folk hero, a soldier, and a cult assassin. She’s living alone and working for a living since she was 18. She’s never been in love, but she’s had multiple sexual and romantic relationships in the past. I deliberately wrote her as being very sexually confident and self-assured. She also has combat training, magical training, her special Dragonborn powers, and an incalculable amount of social clout. By every metric, she’s a powerful character. Though she can talk her way out of a tight spot (all my favorite characters can), she can also fight her way out.

Verity is (at the beginning of D&F) not yet 18 years old. She’s a princess from a very conservative kingdom who was raised to become a barter bride in a diplomatic marriage. The values that were passed to her were duty, tradition, and absolute obedience. Her primary skills are social, charisma, eloquence, and persuasion. Then she was dropped into the deep water of a diplomatic summit and had the weight of future history put on her shoulders, without ever having been taught how to make her own decisions or live with her regret.

To sum up, we have one hyper-competent, confident, and independent badass, universally recognized as powerful and dangerous, and then we have someone who’s basically a deconstruction of a traditional fantasy princess.

Okay, what about the more specific setting within the game world?

BFS is set in Markarth, arguably the most corrupt city in Skyrim, and the site of a localized war, on top of the 2-3 other wars that Skyrim has going on. The city is controlled by the cartel-like Silver-Blood family, and their enemies are swiftly and brutally eliminated. The rule of law is a joke. When the player character arrives at Markarth, they witness a chain or murders and are drawn into a conspiracy that sees them sentenced to life in prison for a crime they didn’t commit. The ruling elite suppress the native underclass by a variety of inventive methods. The roads into the city are controlled by the remnants of a violent but failed uprising, and this uprising is actually the origin story of Skyrim’s entire civil war storyline.

D&F is set in Revaire, explicitly the most violently war-torn of the seven kingdoms. Once the epicenter of a conquering empire, it was a country full of arts and culture, until a bloody coup slaughtered the entire royal line and instituted a new and more brutal regime. The new regime is on shaky grounds and foresighted people predict its imminent fall to rebel forces. So much, so canon. In D&F, I made a point of developing the new royals and their small coterie of supporters, as well as illustrating their constant struggle to conceal how widely reviled they are by the populace, and most of the former nobility. Their apathy to the plight of the common people is underscored in contrast to Verity’s compassion, which is ridiculed as a sentimental feminine affectation.

I’m attracted to certain themes, as you might have noticed.

Now, we get to talk about love interests.

Thongvor Silver-Blood is rather anemically characterized in Skyrim’s canon, so much of the information that I include in BFS is inferred. From his limited number of dialogues in the game, we know that he’s politically ambitious, a Stormcloak supporter, easily angered, and that he has one legitimate friend in the city. Like most Skyrim characters of his age bracket, he served in the Great War. He’s defined by his relationship to his generational cohort. In BFS, he’s def8ined in contrast to his brother. Thonar is comfortable being thought of as a villain. Thongvor still needs to believe that he’s the good guy. And I’m gonna get more into that in later chapters, too.

As a love interest, he’s initially in awe of Corinne, and always genuinely adoring, but more than a little jealous and possessive. BFS is not a story about love redeeming bad men (don’t get me started), but Thongvor shows different sides of his personality to different people, and the side that Corinne gets to see is much nicer than what most people do.

Hyperion Asper is a character of my own devising, whose existence in 7KPP canon is purely implied. We know his children, Jarrod and Gisette, and we knew that he organized a coup to seize the throne. I posit him as a tyrant and unrepentant child-killer (not directly stated in D&F, at least not yet). He’s ruthless and manipulative and his sole purpose is maintaining a sense of personal power. I structured him as the bad example that Jarrod tries -- and fails -- to live up to.

As a love interest... look, he’s a man who’s cheating on his wife with his son’s wife. He seduces Verity and manipulates her, and takes a special delight in pushing her buttons. All his compliments to her are mean-spirited and back-handed. He’s also jealous and possessive... which is especially pathetic, since he’s jealous of his own son, whom Verity doesn’t even like. His rage is a constant implied undercurrent in the narrative.

And the relationship dynamics themselves?

Corinne kisses Thongvor, proposes marriage to him, and then sleeps with him before riding off into mortal danger. She’s fond and affectionate, but she shies away from intense emotions, whether negative or positive. Since they spend most of their time apart, their marriage has been defined by Thongvor yearning like a sailor’s wife, while Corinne ran around doing violence and crime. They only just had their first fight. It will change when they get to spend some more significant time together... but on the whole, their marriage is fairly happy, and the emotional dynamic favors Corinne -- so far. It’s not a pure gender reversal, but that element is definitely dominant.

Hyperion starts seducing Verity on their very first meeting, and relies on a combination of magnetic attraction and Verity’s inexperience in life to keep her coming back, against her better judgment. Their relationship is mutually defined by a combination of attraction and resentment of that attraction. The danger of the situation is an essential element, to the point where it’s hard to imagine their affair would survive without it. It’s a puzzle and a battle, a source of fascination but not of comfort. There’s lust involved, and curiosity, but not a shred of love or even like. The closest thing to genuine affection is when Verity briefly imagines that there could be a version of Hyperion she actually liked, cobbled from his various, hidden good qualities. Any trappings of a genuine relationship are deliberately discordant.

I have tried, more than once, to imagine an alternate universe in which these two could be happy. It can’t be done. they are a study in dysfunction.

So where’s the similarity, with all these differences outlined?

Corinne’s choice to marry into the Silver-Blood family makes her complicit in their rule of the Reach, corrupt and reactionary as it is. Her reluctance to accept being called by their name reflects a reluctance to confront unpleasant truths that’s fundamental to her character. Choosing to be one of them affects and will continue to affect how other people see her, mostly negatively, and mostly without her being aware of it. Being Thongvor’s wife has gained her enemies. The fact that she doesn’t share his more reactionary views is something that they’ve both chosen to elegantly ignore, but the rest of the world won’t be so generous.

Verity’s choice to marry into the Revaire royal family makes her complicit in their violence against the forces rebelling against them, albeit in a more subtle way. Her personal dislike of Jarrod and the fact that their marriage was purely political will not absolve her in anyone’s eyes. Neither will her compassionate and charitable character, which can only be seen as a fig leaf to the Revaire royals’ general brutality. She has lost at least one good friend -- who will never see her the same way, since she chose to throw her lot in with his enemies. She will go down in history as an Asper wife -- but if she’s lucky, not just as that.

Both Corinne and Verity choose to accept some of the violence of the system that they live under, in order to serve their own lofty, long-term goals. Both of them are more image-driven than they care to admit, and though they are genuinely caring and compassionate, they will readily sacrifice compassion in service on their goals. They are queens (or queen-like figures), one-degree-of-separation members of the ruling class, implicated but not directly in control.

And their relationships serve to highlight what they are willing to accept, even though it goes against their conscience.

Is there a conclusion to be drawn here?

Sort of. I want to write about power, compromise and complicity. For whatever reason, it turns out that yw/om relationships are... a really good vehicle for exploring that. I can’t really explain why that is, just yet. I just... have had these thoughts floating, unstructured, in my head for months on end. I needed to get them out on paper, and give them some semblance of order.

I don’t even know why anyone but me would read this, as long and meandering as it is. But having it accessible might be of use to me.

[trulee-peachy]

So like this has to do with kink but it’s also a sad ramble so yeah

I cannot imagine what it is like to be okay with my body, not even LOVE, just okay.

Everyday I wake up and whenever I go out/get ready/dolled up I start to think “hey I kinda feel alright! Maybe I’m not as ugly as I think!” But one glance at a flight reflection just brings me back to earth in a shattering boom

Then suddenly I am hyper aware of my skin, my body, my voice, my hair, my smell, my face, my personality, everything.

I’ve tried to loose weight before, it never sticks/works AND I know in my heart that over 50% of the things I hate about myself aren’t going to be solved with weightloss. (Also I have chronic pain that makes sitting up hard, I don’t think I can run the treadmill any time soon)

I wanna call it body dysmorphia but I can tell based off of reactions from people when I send photos to them, when I go out and see the looks people give me, the treatment I get, that my vision of my body is not dysmorphed.

It’s accurate.

I thought when I “grew up” I would become beautiful and learn to love myself

But here I sit, 21 and unable to imagine a world where someone genuinely thinks I look attractive

Whenever I get online matches on dating sites girls will just compliment me on my personality, which is obviously nice I’m not gonna complain, but for once I’d like someone to think I’m beautiful

My family has to say I’m pretty, but they even sometimes fail at that

My dad will say “you’re beautiful cus I was good looking in high school”

My sister, whenever I bring up my insecurities, will immediately bring up how we should do exercises, make healthy food, and try dancing again, she means well, I love her, but since she has grown up all of her life naturally pretty she will never understand how her words add salt to the wound (yes even now that she is getting a bit “mid sized”)

I mentioned kink at the beginning because recently I’ve been trying not to be disgusted with myself but whenever I try to imagine being with somebody I either get completely grossed out trying to picture myself OR it’s like a fantasy type thing, it absolutely won’t happen but we can think about it type of thing

Tw: death/suicide mention

Growing up I never imagined turning 18. every year in my pre/teen years I would keep a letter for each of my family members, and update them constantly, for the day that I finally ended it. Basically it was a will.

I was so obsessed with this idea that I was not going to be able to suffer thru to 18

Then when I turned 19 I had kinda this

Moment

So that kind of “I can’t possibly imagine___” mindset is coming back recently in all aspects, but mainly in the sense of somebody finding me attractive

And getting really spefic, tickling is such a hands on type of kink

Whenever someone asks “why do you love tickling?” My answer always is that I find it so comforting that somebody wants to touch me, wants to see me vulnerable, wants to hear my laugh and break down my walls

But recently, whenever I’m talking to someone and they’re teasing me all like “I wanna tickle you” I really like it, and it’s nice, but I just can’t believe them.

It sucks and I feel like a shitty person for admitting that but it’s true

I cannot believe that if these people had a 360 image of me, they would still find me cute or attractive enough to want to interact with me like that

Also I think another trigger is lately I’ve been REALLY wanting to expand my style but there’s barely anything for my size that isn’t extremely expensive or bland or “mom clothes” nothing against moms (except my own) but I wanna dress alternative!

I’m already depressed/stressed about other things going on in my life but this just adds a huge weight, I’m trying not to get back into bad coping mechanisms but the pain is becoming unbearable

Also the fact that, no matter how many times they promised, people that I love always leave me.

I’ve looked the way that I do my whole life (there was a brief period when I was super cute at age 6 and I have my Therories on why but that’s another day) and there’s not many ways to change it

So I’m just left with this hopelessness that I’m ever gonna be loved

I had to get this off my chest because my sister and dad obviously don’t get it, they were both naturally attractive, and I’m too poor for therapy.

I’m sorry for the long post, I’m gonna tag it so feel free to ignore/block the tag

I might reblog this post and add more but I’ll always tag it #peachyrants

[luverofsupernatural]

These Hands of Mine: ch 9 Morning After

Ninth chapter ( Master List,  Previous: 8 - Nightmares, Next: 10 - Planning for the Future)

content warning: hospital, blood, fear, medical

A/N: so, I know that I’m slow to update this, and I apologize for that. But, I’m still working on it, and trying to edit to have it be how I want. I also want to say right now that I am posting chapters as I write, so unfortunately, if I want to add in something to say chapter 3, I can’t do that and assume everyone will know. So, if I need to change or add history, it’s gonna be in one of this. Thanks for reading this and please do reblog if you enjoyed.

___________________________

First thing Jackie remembered of the hospital was waking up, refreshed. Groggy in his head, but no agony to be felt. Blindingly bright light burning his eyes was a sharp contrast to that peaceful state. Shielding his eyes with his arm and squeezing his eyes shut, Jackie wanted to give himself a moment to adjust. But just moving his arm sent signals to wake up every part of his body. Texture from the sheets and bandages wrapped around his body. The metal needle stuck in his blood vessel, releasing some kind of drug in him. A numbing agent, floating through him, seemingly coating his cells, telling them everything was fine, when his mind knew that wasn’t possible. Heart beats were quickening, temperature rising quickly, blood starting to pound in his ear, and his mind racing while fighting the anesthetic he could feel seeping into his brain.

Opening his eyes to the dizzying light and tearing the thin sheet away, the hyper-awareness only heightened. Beneath the wrap on his chest, he felt the ends of his ribs catching on his tissue with every breath. The boot on his foot exerting enough pressure that it felt like it would cut off blood flow. Despite that, the drug now seemed to reach every point of his existence, even down to the very tips of his extremities, leaving a creeping sense of renewal in its wake. But reality, pain, took root. His leg felt like it was shrinking, as if his lower leg was being squished to fit all inside his knee and hip. Jackie went to grab at his thigh, try to physically get a handle on what he was feeling, and he suddenly froze, focus shifting to the very bane of his existence. His hands, now covered in a fresh, thinner layer of wrappings, looking abnormally normal. But he could still feel where the divets were, recall every failing and fracture of them. Turning them over and over, slowly, looking for the flaws that were there but hidden from view. That numbing agent seemed to be reaching every single point in them, preventing him from fully experiencing the pain he knew in his heart.

But, the smallest bit of hope crept into his face when his mind started to remember. Remember the nothing. The absolute silence of the surgery, the block his mind had created after leaving the house. No pesky intruders, no having to fight, just the sweet peace of having no thoughts and no responsibility for a few hours. But even more importantly, the nothing in his hands. There hadn’t even been any sensation before. But now? Now there was numb. A spark in him tried to wiggle his fingers, and then that smile faded. Everything seemed to sink into the relatively squishy mattress beneath him. Head half-way buried in the pillow, legs stuck in invisible depressions made by his own weight, and hands lazily draped over the side. Tilting up slightly, he looked at his hands again. Moving his arm, he made his fingertips hover on the edge of his bed, trying to feel the slight bend in them that mimicked the mattress. He wasn’t making them do that — it was just gravity at work now — but that wasn’t the point. Returning to his restful position, Jackie let himself smile, closing his eyes to the light. He didn’t sleep, but he did just lay there, focusing on feeling with his hands while everything else calmed down. Calm to the point where it wasn’t laborious to breath anymore.

Eventually, his brain reached the point that it was getting restless with all the inactivity. Not like before either. This was more of a. . . a desire, a need or wanting to do something, having the energy to do something. Much nicer than the relentless chattering of before. Singular, calm thoughts. That’s what he had right now.

The light wasn’t as disorienting this time round. Jackie propped himself on his elbows and took a look around the room. Nothing special. It was small, there was a window with shades blocking out the sunlight, a couple of chairs– !, and his brother, lounging with his legs off one arm of the chair and back braced against the other arm, his hat positioned so that it covered up half his face. “Doofus,” Jackie teased with a small chuckle. Looking around, there wasn’t anything within arm’s reach to playfully throw at him. “Never could sit normally, could ya?” Jackie continued, unsure why he was exactly messing with Chase. It was fun though. Felt like the old days.

There was a shifting and small groans escaping the formerly sleeping man. Swinging his legs down onto the floor, Chase leaned back, finally tilting his cap, giving Jackie a glimpse of his mischievous face. “Just one more thing ya love ’bout me, ya big oaf,” Chase retorted with a smile. Jackie’s smile widened at that. “How ya feelin’ bud?” Chase asked more earnestly, leaning forward a tad, hands sitting contently in his laps.

Jackie looked back down at his hands, focusing on the feeling in his fingertips. “Think I’m better. Not so much pain anymore. And it’s quiet.” Jackie closed his eyes and took a breath through his nose, so deep that his ribs started digging into him, but their tips weren’t sharp like before. Breathing out, his eyes slowly fluttered open. “It’s much nicer than I’d thought it would be.” His body wanted to slump back down, but Jackie wanted to keep talking with Chase. It’d been ages since they had a proper chat. 

“Much nicer nurses too,” Chase added, biting his lip and letting it go, his eyes drifting up as his mind wandered.

“Shut, up,” Jackie chided him, lifting his arm and throwing an invisible pillow at his brother.

“You’ll see,” Chase smiled playfully. Taking his cap off, Chase ran his fingers through his hair, combing it back into place. It looked almost twice as long as Jackie remembered. But, that wasn’t the only difference in Chase. Stitches, bandages, bruises, and flecks of dried blood. Then Jackie started remembering the haze that was last night. He had told Chase about . . . just losing and his broken bones, not the cat trying to kill him. Then he got very sick. . . Chase left the room . . . Jackie squeezed his eyes shut to try and visualize, focus on the memories. Chase had come back, and was bleeding. . . He’d helped Jackie hobble down the steps and then set him on the couch. His head started throbbing, and Chase had placed a damp washcloth on his face unprompted. . . He knew he got to the car somehow, and that Henrik was there, and so was Chase, and they were arguing, but all Jackie could remember clearly was the pain in his head. There were so many gaps though. Hopefully they’d come back with time, but he had to start asking questions.

“How’d you get those cuts on your face?”

“Smashed into a wall,” Chase answered nonchalantly, focusing on trying to get his legs to fit criss-cross in his chair. When he finally finished, he looked back up at Jackie and did that dopey smile. Even though it looked sincere, something inside Jackie was saying that there was more.

“Just a wall?”

“Well I accidentally smacked,” he did a sweeping wave with his hand for emphasis, “my hand into my dresser, and may have bumped my head on the edge of it too, but nothing more than that.”

“Uh-huh.” Jackie nodded slowly along with his words. Definitely not the truth. But, Chase would clam up if he was confronted, unfortunately. Guess he’d have to leave it alone for now. “Why were you and Henrik arguing?” Those two had never been necessarily close, and growing up Chase hated being compared to Henrik, but he thought the two of them were past that stuff now.

Chase’s brow furrowed, his jaw got visibly tighter, and Jackie glimpsed his hands clenching. But, then Chase placed his hands flat on the arm rests, opening his mouth wide for a large sigh. Even after that though, his eyes still had a death stare in them and any trace of joy had drained from his cheeks. “Because that doctor should have known better,” Chase sneered.

“But Henrik wasn’t–”

“Doesn’t matter! If he truly cared about your well-being, he would’ve brought you in days ago instead of letting you rot in your bed!” Chase spat out, contempt dripping from every syllable.

“This wasn’t his fault, Chase. I’m the one–”

“Don’t make excuses for that quack!” That’s it.

“Chase! I should have been healed by now. On My Own. Except I’m not. Because I lost my powers. And that’s not something Henrik could have known. If it’s anyone’s fault that I’m like this, it’s my own.”

“Don’t say that. You’re just–”

“I’m just what? Hurt? Yeah, I get hurt, Chase. It’s part of my job. And a bigger part of that is taking responsibility for the consequences– for my actions which have consequences. Because I’m the one that saves people. And that inevitably includes myself. Damaged or not.” Jackie laid his head down, his whole body getting tired and his head growing hot. “You’re not my dad, and I’m not a child. So you either accept that this is my reality, or get out.” That last line had more bite to it than Jackie wanted. But he didn’t want Chase here if he was just going to bad-mouth Henrik. Whether hiding it and waiting for Jackie to get better was a good decision or not, it was his idea, and they were both culpable, and it’s what had happened.

Heavy steps reached Jackie’s ears. Guess he had his answer then. In his mind, Jackie was clenching his sheets, trying to hold tight to something, but all he felt was that numbness pricking at his fingertips.

“You deserve better than this, Jackie.” Chase sounded so sad. Almost made Jackie want to apologize. But neither brother budged. “You were my brother before you were a superhero.” Chase knocked twice on the door frame before promptly exiting. His words hung in the room like the stale air. No tears would form or fall nor sore throat sour his breathing. All there was was the usual pain that came with breathing. And the flame of a wish, that he didn’t have to be the superhero.

_________________

tag list: @sayrvespen , @alvie-ashgrove, @sadcat5555, @randowaffle, @friezzzboiii, @maybekatie, @theblackphoebe

[kittiegirl1616]

Free! Omegaverse Oneshot

So, I dug back deep into my tumblr to some of the very first things I posted because I was gonna reblog them for y’all, but found that they were flagged and I couldn’t appeal them.  Which is weird because, yeah, they were ns-fw, but written content is supposed to be allowed...hmm, well, here’s my second attempt!  Please enjoy! *Also, this was written a long time ago, so it’s a little embarrassing for me to post this again...*

**************

~Makoto

I gulp as my back hits the back corner.  “S-Souske, what do you want?” I stammer, trying to sound brave and failing miserably.

He stays silent as he continues to train his intense gaze on me.

I can feel my legs start to shake and it’s all I can do to stay standing. Why am I feeling this way?  What am I feeling?  Why is he making me feel this way?!  “S-Souske…?”  My voice fails me and comes out like a weak whimper.

Souske smirks, yet still doesn’t say anything.  Though, he does stalk forward until he’s standing only a few centimeters away from me.  He reaches his hands out towards me, so I flinch away and close my eyes.  When no touch comes, I open my eyes and find his face only centimeters from my own.

I can literally feel my face heat up and turn bright red.  “Wh-what do y-you want?” I ask him again.  What is he doing?  Did I do something to offend him?

“For such a big guy, you sure are submissive,” Souske murmurs, his voice a deep rumble.  “But that’s okay because it works out for me since I have a more dominant personality.”

The low rumble of his voice greatly affects me.  My breathing is now shallow pants as my body heats up strangely. What’s going on?  Why is my body reacting this way?  “Wh-what do you want, S-Souske?” I ask shakily.  “D-did I do something to offend you?”

He shakes his head.  “No, you didn’t.”  That’s all he says while continuing to stare at me, centimeters away from my face.

“Then wh-what do you want?”  I’m hyper-aware of the minty-freshness of his breath and the scent of chlorine coming off him.

He chuckles and shakes his head.  “How can you not tell, Makoto?  I want you.”

My eyes go wide and my breath hitches as I realize what he said. “W-wait…what?”

Moving so his body is bow pressed up against mine, he stares deep into my eyes.  “I. Want.  You.”  He enunciates each word in a deep raspy voice.

I begin shaking again.  “Y-you w-want m-me t-to d-do wh-what?”  I’m stuttering badly right now.  What does he mean: he wants me?  He wants me to do what?

Souske sighs.  “You’re not getting it, Makoto; I don’t want you to do anything.  I just want you.”  I stare at him blankly, but still with a little bit of fear when it still doesn’t make sense.  He sighs again.  “Maybe this will help you.”

Before I can ask what he meant, he presses his lips to mine in a hungry kiss.  My eyes go wide in surprise.  What is he doing?!

Souske pulls away and licks his lips while smirking at me. “Understand now?” He asks.

I gulp as my body starts to react to the kiss.  “U-uhm…”

He chuckles.  “I left you speechless I see.  Well, at least your body is being honest.”  He grinds his hips into me, making me gasp.  “See?  Want to try answering me now?”

What is going on with my body?  My mind is numb as I continue to stare at him.

Souske’s gaze darkens.  “Makoto, answer me!”  His tone is stern, signaling that he means business.

Gulping again, I take a deep breath.  “I think so.”

He grins.  “Good.”

“B-but now what?”

His tongue flicks out and moistens his lips.  “Well, that depends on you.”

“What do you mean?”  My mind races at all the possibilities.

“Do you want me?”

Oh my god!  That’s what he meant?  “W-well, um…” Stuttering, I trail off as I’m not sure how to continue.

“I’ve seen how you stare at me, Makoto; the blush on your face when our eyes meet and how you hurry to hide yourself when seeing me affects more than just your face.  You want me more than you know,” Souske purrs in my ear as he presses his hips against mine and gently rotating them.

My mouth drops open and my head falls back as pleasure beings pulsing through my body.  “S-S-mmm!” I end up moaning instead of saying what I wanted to say.

“Hmm?” He hums, not stopping his movements.  “You’ll have to speak up, I can’t hear you.”

The thin material of my swimsuit doesn’t help my situation as I being to harden.  “I d-mmm!” My eyes close tight as another moan stops me from saying my answer.  “I-I-ah!” I gasp as Souske suddenly stops his movements and backs away slightly.

“I won’t continue until you answer me, Makoto.  Do you want me?”

Biting my lip, tears of frustration come to my eyes.  “I do want you!  Please don’t stop!” I cry out, trying to stay up on shaky legs.

In an instant, Souske’s hard body is on mine as our lips connect in a harsh kiss.  Grabbing a handful of my ass, he roughly pulls me tightly against him and begins grinding on me.  When I open my mouth to gasp, Souske slides his tongue in and begins exploring my mouth. Closing my eyes, I weave my fingers into Souske’s hair.

Soft moans escape my mouth as grunts escape his.  Suddenly, a wave of pheromones has me pulling away in shock. “Souske, you’re an alpha?”

He nods.  “I am; and you’re an omega, aren’t you?”  His eyes are hungry as he gazes at me.

Before I can respond, a wave of heat hits me that has me collapsing to my knees and slick gushing out of me.  My body heats up and soon I’m at full-mast and panting hard.  The pheromones are too much!  I have to get away!  I have to get to Haru!  “H-H-ahh!” My attempt at calling out to Haru turns into a moan when the material of my swimsuit rubs against my erect cock. Trying to move as carefully as possible, I attempt to crawl under Souske’s parted legs to where Haru is.  If I stay here any longer, Souske will attack me.

“Makoto, I’ll leave and get Haru if you want me to,” I hear him tell me. “I won’t attack you, I promise.  I could never attack the person I like.”

Those words stop me in my tracks.  “You like me?”

He shakes his head.  “No, not like; I love you.”

“Y-you l-love me?” I stutter, looking at him in surprise.

He nods and backs away from me.  “I’ll go get Haru if you feel uncomfortable.”

He’d really do that for me, even though he’s an alpha and I’m an omega in heat?  He must really care about me, then.  Seeing Souske turn to leave, I grab his ankle.  “Don’t go!” I pant.  “If you really care for me like you say you do, then you can have me.”

He freezes, and I can almost see his mind racing.  His eyes go wide and his nostrils flare as I release my pheromones for him to smell.  “Are you sure?  Because if you are, that means that you’re mine!”

I shiver as my head starts to take over.  “Please!” I beg, releasing his ankle and beginning to rub myself. “Ah, ah!”

Suddenly, my hands are ripped away and pinned over my head as Souske hovers over me.  “You asked for it,” he growls before connecting our lips.

The kiss is a hungry one that has me whimpering with need.  He grinds his hips into mine roughly, making me gasp. When my mouth opens, his tongue invades my mouth and demands my submission, which I gladly give him.  He parts our lips and releases my hands before ripping my swimsuit off and staring at me.

I lay there, face flushed, legs parted, slick gushing from my backside, looking up at him.  He is my alpha!  All mine!  No one can have him except for me!  I have to claim him!  Surging upwards, I push Souske down on his back and hover over him.

“What’s wrong, Makoto?”

“My alpha,” I purr, nuzzling his neck, looking for his scent glands. Upon finding them, I lick and nip at them to get Souske to fully release his scent.  “My alpha.”  After purring into his ear again, he groans and releases his scent.  “Mmm.”  I peck his lips before rubbing our scent glands together to mix our scents.  When I’m content that our scents are mixed enough, I move down his body until I’m in between his legs.  “Alpha, can I have your cock?” I ask while looking at the huge bulge in his swimsuit.  

“Yes but turn around so I can have a view too.”

Turning so my ass is facing Souske, I rip open his swimsuit and take his huge, hard cock in my hand, licking the tip.  Immediately, I’m addicted to the sweet yet salty taste of his precum.  Opening my mouth and relaxing my throat, I completely swallow his cock.

“Ahh!  Makoto!” His deep, husky moan sends a pang right through my cock.

Bobbing my head up and down, I work a pace to drive him crazy.

“Look at your lewd hips move while you suck my cock!”  He laughs breathily.  His two big hands part my cheeks, exposing my hole to the air. “You’re even twitching back here.”

“Mmpff!”  My eyes open wide and my moan comes out muffled as Souske inserts a finger in my ass.

“Keep sucking, Omega; I have to prepare you!”  His voice is commanding as he wiggles his finger.

His pheromones was over me, sending me into a frenzy once more.  I begin bobbing my head again.  Another finger is added and I moan again.  Going crazy with the pleasure, my hips move frantically with Souske’s fingers.  His cock stiffens, and I know mine is too when he suddenly pulls his fingers out.

Pulling off of his cock, I turn a little so I can see him.  “Why’d you stop?” I whine.

He smirks and slides out from underneath me.  “It’s my turn to claim my omega.”  Souske moves so he’s kneeling behind me.  His hands spread my cheeks again and he begins to press into me.  As his tip enters me, an enormous amount of his Alpha pheromones wash over me that has even more slick gushing out of me.

I begin panting as he slowly, teasingly fills me up.  “Aah!  Mmm!” My back slowly arches and I begin quivering, almost to tears and desperate for release.  “P-please!”

“Thank you for asking nicely, Omega.”  With a grunt, Souske begins drilling into me at a fast pace.  “You’re so tight!”

“Ah!  Ah!”  

A hand wraps around my throat and pulls me up against his chest. Another hand begins pinching and twisting my nipple.  “Call out my name, Omega.  Who do you belong to?”

“Souske!  Souske!” Suddenly, he hits a spot that has me seeing stars.  “ALPHA!”

He chuckles.  “Guess I found it.”  He continues to hit it, and his hand wraps around my cock.

“Ah!  I-I’m g-gonna c-cum!”

“Go ahead.”

The knot that built up bursts, and I cum with a loud moan.  As my cum shoots out onto the floor in front of me, I tighten around Souske.

With a growl, Souske cums, shooting deep inside me.

I moan again as the hot cum fills me up.  As his hands leave my body, I slump to the floor as my heat leaves me. I grunt as he falls on me, completely spent.  “I need to shower, so get off, Souske.”

He growls playfully.  “That’s no way to talk to your alpha.”

“Alpha or not, we need to clean up before the others come back in.”

He sighs and pulls out of me, making me whimper.  “Fine.  I’ll clean up out of here, you go shower.”

“Okay.”

He presses a kiss to the back of my neck and stands up.  I follow him into a standing position, feeling his cum start to drip out of my ass.  “I’ll join you in a little bit.”

“All right.”  I make my way to the showers and step into a stall, starting the water and stepping in. I let the hot water run over my shoulders.  Does this mean that Souske will mark me soon? I hope so.

Suddenly, a hard, hot body is pressed against me.  “I could smell your pheromones all the way by the lockers. What are you thinking about so hard that has you leaking pheromones?” He rasps in my ear, putting his hands up against the tile wall and caging me in.

I moan as I feel his hard cock brush against me.  “I-I was hoping that you’d mark me.”

Souske growls, and within an instant buries himself in me again.  “So you want to be mine, huh?”

“Aah!” I exclaim, my mouth dropping open at the sudden intrusion.

“I won’t move until you answer me, Omega.  Do you want to be mine?”

“Y-yes, Alpha!  I want to be yours!” I exclaim, wanting him to move.

“Good, Omega.”  He begins thrusting in and out of me, his pheromones raging.

Sent back into a heat frenzy, my body becomes even more sensitive.  It’s probably because he’s releasing his mating pheromones now.  “A-ah!  Alpha, please!” I beg.

Souske growls and starts pounding harder.  His hands leave the wall and grip my hips to get better traction.

I fall forward, using the wall to try and keep myself from falling down. “Alpha!  Alpha!  Alpha!” I chant as I get closer and closer to my release.

Just as my knot explodes, he bites the back of my neck, making my orgasm seem even better.  My mouth opens in a silent scream as it feels like I’m cumming rivers.

As soon as Souske finishes and releases me, my legs buckle and I fall to my knees.  Oh my goodness!  I feel so amazing!

“Are you okay, Makoto?” Souske asks out in huffs as he tries to catch his breath.

I nod, resting my head against the cool tile of the wall.  “I’m better than okay.”

“Good.”  He hooks his hands in my armpits and lifts me to my feet with a grunt.  “Let’s get cleaned up.”

After we’re done cleaning up, Souske and I head out to the pool area to find only Rin and Haru.

“Your heat triggered Nagisa into one as well.”  Haru’s voice is as emotionless as ever.

I blush and look away from him.  “This is embarrassing.”

“So why is Rei gone as well?” Souske asks, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my shoulder.

“They’re a mated pair, like us,” I say, blushing at the close contact.

“Congrats!” Rin exclaims, looking somewhat relieved, though I can’t figure out why.  “I thought Rei and Nagisa were going to start going at it right here.  Haru just disappeared under the water to avoid watching it.  I couldn’t do anything.”

“Haru!  Oh my gosh, I completely forgot!”  I break out of Souske’s grasp and surge forward.  “You’re okay, right?”  Gripping his shoulders, I look into his eyes.

He holds my gaze for a minute before a light blush blooms on his face. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m on blockers so I’m okay.  I’ll just have to cancel dinner with my parents tonight.”

I give him a concerned look.  “Call me if you need anything, or if it becomes unbearable.”

He shakes his head.  “You have a mate now, so I won’t be doing that.”  His voice quiets down until it’s almost impossible to hear.  “Plus, I think I’ve found my alpha.”

“That gre-hey!”  As I go to hug Haru, arms suddenly wrap around my waist and I’m pulled against a hard body.  “Souske!”

“Don’t go hugging other guys!  I’m your mate!” He whines.

I chuckle and turn around in his arms, pecking his cheek.  “Okay, Souske.  I won’t.”

[vanishcd]

[[ So i’m gonna post this whole thing but I just. NEED to analyze the entire discussion between Morrell and Stiles in Battlefield. Because its such important character stuff besides being INCREDIBLY well-written.

Included are my thoughts on my Stiles and my perspectives on how he thinks, especially when it comes to how ADHD/anxiety makes you perceive things. Likes are appreciated but PLEASE ask to reblog since this feels very personal for me and my muse

Stiles: You know when you're drowning, you don't actually inhale until right before you black out. It's called voluntary apnea. It's like no matter how much you're freaking out, the instinct to not let any water in is so strong that you won't open your mouth until you feel like your head's exploding. But then when you finally do let it in, that's when it stops hurting. It's not scary anymore. It's - it's actually kind of peaceful. 

So this whole thing starts off with his anxiety. His way of describing things in details with both feelings and facts that makes it incredibly visceral and real. You can feel yourself underwater, you can imagine that moment he’s talking about. The pain and then the relief. (Fear and pain. Big threads in some of his emotional beats. He also FOCUSES in on those details when he’s afraid, classic anxiety symptom.)

Morrell: Are you saying you hope Matt felt some peace in his last moments Stiles: I don't feel sorry for him.  Morrell: Can you feel sorry for the nine - year - old Matt who drowned?  Stiles: Just because a bunch of dumbasses dragged him into a pool when he couldn't swim doesn't really give him the right to go off killing them one by one. 

He has no sympathy for Matt. Not after what he’s done to everyone. Not for what Stiles perceives as a dumb, if awful, fluke and Matt’s personal offense/inability to get over it.

The punishment should fit the crime and his noting of "one by one" points out that Matt has been calculating this. For something ambiguous and one time, if traumatic. It's a conflict with Stiles' sense of what justice is. Matt also attacked him, his friends, Scott, his dad, and Melissa. That alone means Stiles can’t excuse, reason, forgive, or sympathize. But then--

Stiles: And by the way, my dad told me that they found a bunch of pictures of Allison on Matt's computer. And not just of her though. I mean, he photoshopped himself into these pictures. Stuff like them holding hands and kissing. You know, like he had built this whole fake relationship. So yeah, maybe drowning when he was nine years old was what sent him off the rails, but the dude was definitely riding the crazy train. 

here’s the thing. Despite having general/social anxiety and ADHD, Stiles isn't forgiving of mistakes/cruelty because of mental illness. Yes, even though he fully knows his own issues have caused shit. Even knowing it's a POWERFUL motivator. But he has a LOW opinion of someone who uses trauma/illness to lash out purely for revenge. Especially over something that as he said was the result of kids being stupid

Even without this, he would hate Matt simply for being a creepy af stalker, not only CREATING this delusion of him w Allison but ACTING ON IT. Anyone who pulls that shit is LOW. And it was toward one of his closest friends.

He also happens to be deflecting, talking about others instead of himself (which is of course the whole point of a counseling session). He’s not just rambling cause he’s angry/disgusted and has a tendency to. He’s JUSTIFYING himself through it, which means he’s on the defensive and doesn’t want to open up to Morrell.

Morrell: One positive thing came out of this, though. Right? Stiles: Yeah. Yeah, but I still feel like there's something wrong between [him and his dad]. I don't know. It's just like tension when we talk.

The first moment he opens up, maybe because the guilt of STILL not saying anything about the supernatural to his dad is TOO MUCH. It's one of the heaviest burdens he's carried. So even though Stilinski got his position as sheriff back, Stiles still feels like he's to blame.

Interesting thing to note is that the topic of his dad is the one thing he consistently opens up to people to. Showing vulnerability doesn't matter when it's his dads ANYTHING at stake. And he's ok showing that to Morrell both cause it's not focused on moving forward and his own feelings, but because it's actually something that he feels he needs help with. Because their relationship means too much.

The tension could also be alluding to the hallucination he had at Lydias party (despite the fact that he obviously doesn't TELL her about it) I can write a whole essay on that scene but the scene, real or not, clearly weighs on Stiles. And with anxiety, it's easy to fall into the mindset that your fears are real, they just aren't being SPOKEN. Even when you KNOW without a DOUBT that the person doesn't feel that way, it sticks in your mind and messes with your perception. Stiles is aware his perception could be skewed from stress.

Stiles: [Scott’s] got his own problems to deal with though: I don't think he's talked to Allison either. But that might be more her choice, you know. Her mom dying hit her pretty hard. But I guess it brought her and her dad closer. Jackson? Jackson hasn't really been himself lately. Actually the funny thing is, as of right now, Lydia is the one who seems the most normal. 

As Morrell is about to silently observe by asking about him, Stiles is once again deflecting the topic to everyone elses trauma and avoiding talking about how he feels. Just what he’s observed and his judgement about it. And his comments can be perceived as pretty neutral despite how much he cares for 3 of the 4 people who are going through hell with him.

Morrell: And what about you, Stiles? Feeling some anxiety about that championship game tomorrow night? Stiles: Why would you ask me that? Ah. Uh, no. I - I never actually play. But hey, since one of my teammates is dead and another one's missing, who knows, right? 

AGAIN he deflects. He knows she's digging for “im feeling anxious” and admittance that HE isn't ok. And not only denies it on reflex but then takes the leading part and uses that for the topic. Again he talks about others and uses dry sarcasm to make himself more comfortable.

Morrell: You mean, Isaac. One of the three runaways. You haven't heard from any of them, have you? Stiles: How come you're not taking any notes on this? Morrell: I do my notes after the session. Stiles: Your memory's that good? 

Deflect; and this time because she doesnt give up, he turns the topic to HER. Most people will let you ramble about others but when you start making observations about THEM, particularly what they’re doing at the moment or their professionalism, they get defensive. Even if its a word or two, it’s enough to give him an “advantage”. 

And it’s, as becomes the ultimate point, him fishing for time.

Morrell: How about we get back to you? Stiles? Stiles: --I'm fine. Yeah, aside from the not sleeping, the jumpiness, the constant, overwhelming, crushing fear that something terrible's about to happen.

And there's the moment he finally breaks. He knows she's not gonna let him go, she's directly observing his anxiety. And there's a slight pause before she says his name. For the first time, shes directly giving him permission to speak, instead of asking prying questions. He could deny it. And he does, but in the obvious way that's just a lead in to his feelings.

He's at a point in the conversation and the situation that he doesn't have any other option. And even though his tone is harsh, it's honest. Because he's scared and suddenly realizes they covered everyone, and no one is left to help.

Morrell: It's called hyper - vigilance, the persistent feeling of being under threat. Stiles: But it's not just a feeling, though. It's - it's like it's a panic attack. You know, like I can't even breathe. Morrell: Like you're drowning? Stiles: Yeah. Morrell: So if you're drowning, and you're trying to keep your mouth closed until that very last moment, what if you choose to not open your mouth? To not let the water in? Stiles: You do anyway. It's a reflex. Morrell: But if you hold off until that reflex kicks in, you have more time, right? Stiles: Not much time. Morrell: But more time to fight your way to the surface? Stiles: I guess.

He has a way with words. He's been rambling this whole time. But his description of a panic attack is the last vivid bit for several lines. Trying to get across his desperation.

Then he goes to simple answers. "Yeah" and "I guess" because when he feels so lost, he gets quiet.

Stiles is very pragmatic AND emotional. He thinks with both but rationalizes. "It's a reflex" and "not much time" is his logical side kicking in, but in that way it's counterproductive because anxiety. You search for an answer, a relief from your fear, and when it's GIVEN, you don't quite know what to do with it. So you rationalize your own helplessness because you've fallen into that pattern of logical thinking combined with fear. That's what makes an anxious mind spin out.

Morrell: More time to be rescued? Stiles: More time to be in agonizing pain. I mean, did you forget about the part where you feel like your head's exploding? Morrell: If it's about survival, isn't a little agony worth it?  Stiles: But what if it just gets worse? What if it's agony now and then - and it's just hell later on?

Stiles fears pain. And I think it's not the pain specifically, it's the idea of it being the last thing, an extended thing. Emotional or physical (who wouldn’t?) And then he rationalizes with facts again to prove his point. This is the crux of MANY anxieties. That you aren't strong enough to get through, that it won't end, that there's no hope.

Morrell is having none of it. She won't let him give up on HOPE.

Morrell: Then think about something Winston Churchill once said - "If you're going through hell, keep going."

Know why that got through to him? Because it's simple and factual and makes him realize--it's the only thing you CAN do. It's not exactly hope for him but determination. Will to keep going for a little longer

And the truth is, that's all you CAN do in some horrible situations. You feel hopeless, useless. But to quote another favorite tv show "believing in even the possibility of a happy ending is a very powerful thing."

Hope, hope for hope, will get you through. It can be more painful than anything in the world, but it's also the ONE THING that lets you get thought when EVERYTHING ELSE has failed.

And as Morrell says, if you can survive, isn't it worth it?

[inopinion]

“Is he/ she really just a friend?” & “is that really what you think of me?” (Marecal) please. You’re fics are amazing btw!!!

This ask (as are all of them that languish in my inbox) was sent in before I closed my asks, before War Storm, and I just didn’t get to it. So I hope, dear anon, that you’ll accept this post-War Storm piece. 

@lilyharvord, @mareshmallow, @redqueenfandom, @anyone-anything-canbetrayanyone, @tiberias-vii, @runexandra, @mom2reesie, @scarletguardsource, @adraxsteia, @redqueenfandom,  @wrenskonos, @Maria-habs

I know I’m fogetting people - but some of you have changed your names. So shoot me a little message if you want to be on the list.

SPOILERS MAY FOLLOW, by clicking “read more” you are agreeing to see details contained in War Storm. Also it’s quite long.

Reblog to share with friends.

Delegations are arriving, just like mine. There’s a lot of formality around the anniversary of Lakeland surrender. Montfort has maintained its own borders but has been stretched thin guiding two countries through democracy. The Raiders haven’t been easy on us and Prairie recently attacked settlements on the plains.

My parting words from my mother: “You don’t have to go, you’ve done enough. More than enough.”

I laughed her off. “What? They don’t need me. I’ll be back in a week.” 

But I don’t think she bought it. Truthfully, they’ve called me up twice since the ceasefire and it’s always possible that they could ask again. My mother can demonize Davidson and the Montfort War Council as much as she wants, but she knows they didn’t twist my arm. And if they ask again, I won’t think twice.

I am a thief. I am a weapon. I am not made for peace.

When the Lakelands came back for one last push, I went.

When the uprising of the Houses brought a contingent from the south, I went.

And with Piedmont restocked and as obstinate as always, or with Prairie escalating their attempts to claim Montfort farms, I’ll go again. 

I wish I was more than what I am. But after a few years of more peace than war, I see exactly the toll of it. My ability to accept calm, to trust quiet, to work at anything other than destruction has been stilted. Ironically, I was raised to go to war, and to war I go. At least I have a choice. I am proud that I have made sure that all of us have a choice.

My mother leaves on the outbound train with Clara toddling along behind her. We miss so much of her life, but Farley stays in Ascendent when she’s not deployed. The fact that Clara is going home with my mother is signal enough, an offensive is brewing. The call is coming. They just haven’t asked yet.

“So, what am I walking into?” I ask Farley after she’s collected herself.

“Same old thing. Uprising in Graytown. Stubborn silvers still think they own the place.”

“And?”

She sighs and looks after the train as it curves around the mountain and out of sight.

“Piedmont?” I ask. She nods, her sigh is enough for me to know that Graytown isn’t my destination. “So we go to Piedmont. At least it shouldn’t be that hot this time of year. Who’s coming to this thing?”

“Most of the Tri-Territory War Council.” I suck in a breath and she adds quickly, “Cal should be staying in Norta. He volunteered to head the home front, per usual. Other generals will be arriving shortly.”

“Good to know. Davidson sent me an invite, how about you?” I quickly change the subject even though I know this isn’t an intimate affair. She leads me to her  apartment to dress for a formal dinner with our old friends and a few dozen more.

Her statement about Cal brought relief, but also sadness. When we talked about what came next, Cal knew he wouldn’t be leaving Norta any time soon. I made sure he knew where to find me in Montfort. We’ve exchanged a few letters, two a piece. But he came and went from Montfort several times over nearly two years with no more than a footnote in the papers. Forgiveness, even for the unavoidable, is never guaranteed. Each time, I remind my self that he will come when he’s ready. If he’s ever ready. And then devolve into weeks of self reflection on if I’m ready. Generally, I conclude that if I can’t answer that question in seconds the answer must be no.

The papers started getting trashed before I could read them about two months ago. I found one in Gisa’s shop and figured out why. The former prince made the gossip sheets for a new relationship. I guess when you tell someone not to wait… It doesn’t matter. He’s in Norta.

Unlike Farley, I don’t hold a formal rank with either the Scarlet Guard nor the Montfort military. She’s in her dress uniform, tugging at her collar every time she thinks no one is listening. I have a gown of Gisa’s creation. It’s a plain cut with a modest neckline and covered shoulders. The sleeves are long for the winter and the waste has a bit of room with ruffled layers starting just under my bust so that I don’t have to worry about my posture all evening. Gisa is a life saver. I didn’t even have to ask her twice, she just got it. It’s a dress I can eat my self silly in, slouch, and still advertise her skills.

“Mare, you look lovely.” Carmadon welcomes me.

Davidson lets his husband do all the talking as each guest is greeted and ushered through the palace to a sitting room. Small tables hold tea and small glasses of wine or liquor.

Julian surprises me by noticing me first. His hand is firm but gentle all the warmth and affection as any uncle on my elbow.

“I didn’t expect you.” I gasp, embracing him. 

I have not seen him since I last saw Cal. He’s healthy and vibrant in a fresh tunic. He holds a cup of tea and has ink stains on his hand. His eyes flash around at the small collection of books in the room. It’s nothing compared to the library where I imagine he’s spent his afternoon.

“I couldn’t resist an invitation to continue my study of Montfort’s archives. And to see some friendly faces as well. I will say, I’m surprised to see you. We were not informed of your invitation.”

“We?” Instinct casts my eyes around the room. And fate tugs them to a straight-backed man staring from the corner. “Cal wasn’t supposed to be here.”

“He made a last-minute decision. General Laris took ill.”

“I see.” With medics at their disposal, Generals didn’t get sick.

I don’t quite know what to do next and I don’t get a chance before a different hand wraps around my elbow and seeks my attention. Tyton’s slight smirk would be nothing for most, but from him to me, it’s a dozen nights of memories. I can’t help but blush, mortified. He has no reason to expect anything different than the last three times we found each other at Davidson’s dinners. But there’s no denying that things are very different with Cal in the room.

Or, maybe they aren’t.

Cal hasn’t stepped forward, he hasn’t made himself known. I haven’t reached out, either, but I left it all squarely between him and time to sort out. And then there’s the girl from the papers. No name given, but a snapped shot of him locked up in her lips outside a bar in Delphie. Why shouldn’t I relish the attention that Tyton so freely offers?

I let him step into me. My shoulder presses just under his and his hand sits comfortably on my waist.

“Excuse my interruption, but you weren’t on the list, Miss Barrow. Are you crashing this dinner?”

He’s mischievous and taunting and handsome when he lets his lips smile. Our connection hasn’t ever been deep. It’s hard to trust my instincts with men, with people. But it’s easier when you’ve bled for each other. I know Tyton’s intentions, his loyalties, and that’s enough for me. In a way, it’s a lot like the flings I had in the stilts. We don’t share details, plans, or anything a real couple might worry about. We are not together. Just together sometimes. And, as far as he knows, together now, for this week.

“Davidson opened the door and Carmadon let me in, so I suppose it’s at least okay,” I say.

I put my arm around his back, the width of him as familiar to me as Kilorn or my brothers. Or Cal. I retract a little, adding a touch of space. Tyton doesn’t seem to notice or mind.

“Julian, I’m pleased to see a strong contingent from Norta.” Tyton’s eyes flick to Cal’s direction, confirming he is well aware of what he’s doing. 

I boil a little and send a spark into his side. If it registers above a tickle, he doesn’t show it. Our lightning can’t hurt each other. But our ability makes us hyper aware when we’re in contact with electricity.

Julian’s smile dims. Ever polite, he begins to excuse himself. “Yes, important discussions require the full participation. Please, enjoy your dinner. Mare, perhaps we can catch up later in the week?”

“Of course, I would love that.” And I would. I miss my teacher, learning, questions, almost as much as I miss action, movement, and having a purpose.

“You know where I’ll be.” He bows slightly as he slides back through the crowd towards his nephew.

I slough off Tyton’s grip. 

“Are you trying to be difficult?” I ask.

He persists with both arms around me, holding me loosely. “Come on now, you’re not gonna bite, are you?” He murmurs in my ear. The reminder flushes me scarlet with anger.

“I’m not a toy for you boys to bat around at will.”

He gives me a little space. “Look, I know what we do is just for fun, but it doesn’t have to be.”

My mouth is dry, my lips can’t move. Tyton can’t hold my gaze and he seems nervous. I didn’t know it was in his emotional range. But he’s nervous about me, about telling me he wants a chance. And why shouldn’t he have one? And yet, why can’t I give him one? Indecision is not being ready, I tell myself.

“Maybe it does,” I try a small smile to keep in friendly, like I believe it to be just banter. But there’s a blow that falls and his eyes wince before he recovers.

“Let’s line up for dinner and see where things lead. At least we know there will be sparks!” he says, animated and compensating.

I hate that I hurt him. I hate that I didn’t think I could. I’m swarmed by guilt over him, and then, for the first time in months, for all the people that I’ve hurt. In the blur that is the path between the sitting room and the dinner table, I register little and feel everything while trying not to let the wave of emotion spill over my banks. Just as we sit, my eyes catch the burnt-ember irises. I know a surely as I know my name that I am unforgivable. Maybe this is what Jon meant, because I feel so very much alone.

.

The salad and soup courses are a fog. But Tyton’s well aimed sparks through my right hand help bring me around. I feel the lingering tingle in the space behind my right ear. 

Dinner is exquisite. Fall vegetables stay light with citrus accents and pitch into deeply satisfying territory with added honey and roasted nuts. It’s the first time since my first dinner so long ago that they serve Bison. Having done battle with the beasts, I marvel at the tenderness with a different level of appreciation.

Tyton is on my right, he’s a Lieutenant Colonel with his own battalion of a thousand soldiers. He’s the lowest ranking officer at the dinner. I’ll get to spend much of the evening watching him salute and pay his respects as is required of him. It gives me a weird level of satisfaction watching him bend with formality. He’s present because he’s the highest ranking Electricon and can speak to the tactics that might make use of our skills. He’ll make the proposals regarding our distribution among the battalions.

The highest rank of each type of ability is present in the room, at least the abilities with more than just a handful. We only have one set of the triplets, no one else has shown their connection. All the other New Bloods and Ardents are at least colonels if not major generals. There are only eight generals, Cal being one of them, Farley being another. While I’m politely engaging with those directly around me–mostly strangers and administrators–Cal bends Farley’s ear as they sit side by side and among Command and the higher ranks.

They have Davidson at their side, but I am just a seat away from Carmadon. He breaks the stodgy discussion.

“Mare, I heard from my cousin that your brother has continued to expand his understanding of plants.”

“Oh yes, Mr. Basvin has been very kind towards my brother. Very generous in his knowledge.”

“He says your brother his been exceptional in moving all the heavy stuff.”

I laugh, happy to brag on Tramy. “I bet he has. Before he started digging in the dirt, that was probably his best attribute. Mr. Basvin has been very encouraging. I think they both get quite a bit out of the arrangement.”

“Your brother is a greenie?” Colonel Skonos asks from across the table.

Sarah may have been on our side, but most of the skin healers weren’t. It’s a strange thing to see a Skonos sitting at the table. But Colonel Sherin Skonos runs the healer regiment, the hospitals, even trains red medics and field surgeons to fill out the ranks. She’s not as warm or as easy to accept as Sarah, but her eyes seem kind.

“No, his ability is in old fashioned size and strength. He is surprisingly good with flowers.”

“Oh, and what did he do before the cease fire?” she asks.

The distaste on her tongue is one that I hear from most of the silvers in the room. Many of them long for the system before, the system that put them at the top and reds in the trenches. It bothered me more when the memories were still fresh, when my heart was an open wound, when the guilt came in never-ending waves and not just inappropriately at state dinners.

I don’t flinch. I don’t look away. My family was their victims. They will never be allowed to forget. “He was conscripted for almost three years.”

“A blessing that he survived,” Tyton adds using the odd religion tinged words I’ve found common in Montfort.

It’s just an expression from him. It’s one of the few things we’ve discussed with our heads on the pillow–unlocking the secrets of Montfort from a native. He said that there are churches and a few groups that are reviving an older religion. And that they just always talked like that: God bless, bless your heart, bless you, blessings given. Bless, bless, bless. I wonder if they spoke so much about gods and blessings before their revolution. It is more than foreign on my tongue and aside from my questions, I’ve never used it. It’s too much like Iris and her gods.

The meal sits heavy in my stomach while I wait for the dismissal. Unlike other dinners, this one is a celebration, an anniversary, and as such, there will be dancing in the ballroom. I part myself from Tyton and find my favorite chair in the library. I could doze, comfortable, and full on four courses of delicious food. I select a volume and find the little napkin that marked my spot from last time. I can hear the music start up and there’s a speech followed by a cheer and clapping.

There’s only a handful of people in the ballroom that were on the ground during both the cease-fire and the Lakelander’s last attempt. Davidson, Farley, Tyton, Julian, three Montfort officers, all now Colonels and Generals. The rest, they can’t possibly know what it means to leave a battle victorious and with the promise of peace. If they did, they’d give us all a night of hot baths and sleep instead of liquor and dancing. But those at the top celebrate with wine and dancing and speeches that have no meaning.

I expect and anticipate Julian wondering into the Library. I don’t have anything specific to talk about, but I would like his thoughts on the Nortan system. They have chosen two houses - one of common, elected representatives, and one of twenty of the high house leaders - also elected by the former ruling class. All things must pass with a majority vote of the combined houses. With the high houses out-numbered five-to-one, they are almost figureheads in the discussions. But they have been building a coalition with the more conservative groups in the Commons, or so the papers say. I’d like the truth of it, and certainly Julian must be watching with fascination.

“I know this is excessively dull, but if you come and make an appearance, turn a few dances on the floor, we can get out of here early,” Farley cuts the quiet with her offer, stepping through the room without more than a tap of her shoes on the parquet floor.

“You know, I’ve been trying to finish this book for over a year?” I hold it up, my finger keeping my place.

“Then you won’t mind another year. Come on, I’ve been sent to fetch you by our hosts.”

I’m not afraid of dancing, or of idle conversation. I’m not really that interested in the book. But I am afraid of the guilt Cal’s look pushed over me. 

“What did you and Cal talk about at dinner?”

Farley sighs. She’s not exasperated (as she so often is with me), but sad and careful, delaying while she thinks. I steel myself for the worst not knowing if I fear his hatred, his disgust, or his sadness the most.

She starts guarded, gauging my reaction. “We discussed the readiness of the Guard groups in Montfort. Why they haven’t officially signed up with the Montfort army. The usual General-talk.” She hesitates, but my face must be neutral enough because she continues, “And he asked about you: your health, your well being, our family. He always does.” 

Always. Though she’s never mentioned it to me. I guess I should have assumed that they must interact regularly on the War Council. But still, she never said, so I assumed he kept his distance from more than just me. I don’t know if I should be offended that she didn’t tell me or to read it as a sisterly gesture. 

She tongues her teeth, shrugs, and crinkles her nose slightly. “And then he asked about you and Tyton.”

If I weren’t already sitting, my knees would have made me. The sudden pace of my heart makes me dizzy. “And? What did you say?”

Please, please, don’t make him think… What do I want him to think? That I’ve moved on, that I’m strong without him? That I haven’t? If I haven’t is that more of a sign that I’m not ready? No wonder I hide in the mountains, my stomach twists.

“And, I told him only what I know. That you and Tyton are at least friends. What else hasn’t been my business and I’m satisfied staying out of it.”

She’s left it to his imagination, or hopeful lack of one. I guess that’s the answer. I don’t want Cal to think I’m with Tyton. 

Heart still beating rapidly, I murmur, “That’s fine. That’ll do.” Then I wonder what the next move is. It’s still his to make, right? Will he make it. Is he…”Is he okay?”

Farley quirks her features in momentary confusion. It’s a weird phrasing, and even stranger to be playing telephone through her. She morphs into an expression I’ve learned well in our years together, she’s waiting for me to stop being dumb and start seeing the bigger picture. But there’s too much pain and hurt between Cal and I for me to be sure.

“You could ask him,” is all she offers.

“If he wanted to talk to me, he would have by now. I have to respect that he doesn’t.”

“And hide so he can’t?” She grins a flick of a teeth when her words hit their mark. 

I’m a coward. I have been a coward. I’ve been hiding and waiting and hoping that he’ll do something to bridge the gap, but without providing the opportunity. I at least owe myself an answer as to where he stands. Maybe then, maybe this time, I can figure out what I should do next. 

I rustle up onto my feet and push the book back into its place. With our elbows locked I allow her to lead me to the ballroom where bodies swirl and people chat. She pulls a glass of wine off a tray as soon as we enter. I gulp it down in three steps and set the empty on another tray. 

“Let it settle, Mare,” she warns, blocking my hand from getting another glass.

She guides me directly to friendly faces, easy conversation. Davidson, and Carmadon both grin and greet me, they introduce me to others, and I eventually get my second glass of wine. I’m flushed with warmth and bravado. With my head bubbling, I relax into the routines of socializing. Dancers swirl behind me and before I realize that I’ve agreed, Carmadon sweeps me into the current with smooth precision.

Carmadon is a great dancer. A breathless song later, I discover that Davidson is not nearly as coordinated. I find I’m leading him more than he leads me, and my feet are worse for it. 

Tyton takes me around to an uptempo beat, the spark of his fingers pushing me one way and another keeping us in step despite my tiring legs and wine soaked brain. We slow to a stop. The tempo transitions. The music starts and it’s only three seconds before I recognize it. Even though Tyton pulls, I resist. I can’t, not to this song. No matter how in-sync I feel guided in Tyton’s arms, they just don’t fit this song. He pulls again, the other dancers have to move around us. And it’s just another two beats before I see a hand on Tyton’s shoulder. 

Cal asks with his eyes and Tyton bows slightly and gives me up to a warm, familiar embrace. Cal smells like dreams and moves like memories. It both hurts me deep in my chest and grounds me firmly in the moment. The steps come as easily as my lightning and I’ve known them just as long.

“I was wondering if I’d get my chance,” Cal’s voice breaks and I see the flush of embarrassment lightly tinge his cheeks. 

“What’s been stopping you?”

“Your never-ending line of admirers. It’s a shock I pulled you away unscathed.” He’s pleased with his turn of phrase, and I’m the one blushing and smiling.

“You afraid of me or Tyton?” I let him have a small snap on his upper arm. He winces and smiles.

I feel his hand slide on my back and the music pause in just the right place. I’m ready for it. He dips me back, a slight bend, he holds it the full beat then pulls me back into the next stanza.

“Well, rank might save me with Tyton, but you don’t have any oaths to Norta.”

“Is that what you think of me?” I’m actually enjoying the teasing as much as the dancing. The warmth of him in the already hot room is relaxing beyond words.

“Unpredictable.” He spins me one way. “Uncontrollable.” I spin back, wrapped in his arm. “Completely your own.” I spin back out and come back to position in his arms. “So much more than what’s on show.” The song comes slowly to it’s conclusion. It’s ending much sooner than it should, truncated by the band. I want them to play it all night long. His lips are next to my ear and so far from my lips that it hurts. “What I think of your? Oh, Mare, I have always thought you were incredible.” He bends me slightly then brings me back up. We’re frozen together, inches apart.

The gentle applause at the end of the song and the recording that takes over for the band’s break helps to clear the air between us. Cold air sweeps in as guests step out to get fresh air on the terrace. He watches my eyes follow a couple.

“I’ll let you get back to your date,” he says.

Cal’s hand leaving mine is like dipping my fingers in ice water. I’m at once refreshed and painfully shivering for lack of his heat. He steps back, folds his hands behind him and gives me a stilted bow, eyes lowered.

“Cal,” I call. He stops his retreat and looks up, face neutral. “The girl in the papers?”

“She was… she isn’t anymore. And Tyton? Is he really just a friend?”

I won’t complicate things with details. “Yes.”

Cal’s eyes drift from my eyes to my lips down to my shoulder where the “M” lies hidden. His eyes crease with remorse. It’s my turn to bow my head.

“Thank you for the dance, General.” I am a coward and I will run as far and as fast as I can from the sting of his pain.

He surprises me. Calls me back to the present and to his eyes. “Mare, do you think we could talk?” 

Where as his voice cracked at the start of our dance, now it carries a rough edge. Even if there’s sadness in his expression, there’s enough hope there to push my hand out for his. Rough, work-worn palms hold my fingers just long enough to bring my hand to his arm, just above his wrist. He escorts me away from the eyes, the ears to face the fears I’ve collected waiting for him to take the first step. One step behind us, how many to follow? Together? Apart? Maybe it’s not an easy start, but I’m no longer waiting to heal.

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