#i've been sitting with this for months and can no longer suffer alone

[bones-and-bondage]

Orin gave the Dark Urge amnesia because she was trying to carve the memory of Enver Gortash out of them.

[ramblings-of-a-chaotic-neutral]

Here's a continuation of my "Arthur becomes Emrys's familiar" au since that's what won the poll!

You can find part one of this au here!

A quick recap if you didn't see my previous post: the basics of this au are that Arthur performed a ritual with the help of the druids to lift a curse that was placed on Camelot by Morgana, but in doing so, he bound himself to Emrys, the god of magic, as his familiar and servant. Because of this, Arthur can now physically see Merlin's magic as strands of golden dust and can hear messages telepathically given to him by Merlin. Merlin, meanwhile, tried to stop Arthur from performing the ritual and is now just desperately trying to keep his magic a secret from Arthur, who misinterprets the magic he sees swirling around Merlin as a threat from Emrys to keep him complacent.

Alright, now that I've finished the recap, onto the new stuff!

After Arthur spent a few months in Camelot under Emrys's control and seeing the threat of magic everywhere around him, he felt like he was on the verge of a mental breakdown. Emrys still hadn't even told him what his plans for Arthur were, which led Arthur to believe that the god no doubt had some heinous plan that would be torturous for Arthur. After all, what other plan could the god of magic have for the king of the land that had eradicated his worshippers for decades besides pain and death?

The longer Arthur waited for Emrys to reveal anything about his plans or to give Arthur some terrible order that would set in motion Camelot's downfall, the more nervous and paranoid Arthur became. Because did it seem like the buzzing in his head was getting louder each day, or was that his imagination? Was Emrys slowly taking control of his mind without Arthur even knowing?!

All Arthur knew for certain was that Emrys wanted him alive to do his bidding. Now that Arthur could see Emrys's magic, he could see how the golden dust strengthened his armor, enhanced his weapons, and attacked his enemies. On certain occasions, it even protected Arthur's loved ones.

(Arthur swore that he was never as close to a heart attack as he was when he saw those golden strands of light bind themselves around Guinevere and roughly pull her from her chair. Arthur had thought for a terrible moment that Emrys had found some fault to punish Arthur for, and the horrible god was taking it out on his wife. However, Arthur was relieved beyond words when he saw an arrow hit the back of Guinevere's chair, where she had been sitting only a second before. Emrys wasn't punishing him through Guinevere, he was saving Arthur's wife. Why would he do that though? Did the god also need Guinevere alive for his plans?)

Merlin had also been acting strangely after the ritual. Arthur could see that Emrys's magic curled itself tightly around Merlin, like a large snake poised to strangle its prey. Arthur knew that this was a ever-present threat from Emrys, that if Arthur took one step out of line or disobeyed in any way, Merlin would be the one suffering for it.

Since the ritual, Merlin had been even more fidgety than usual, if that was even possible. It was like something was causing him an unusual amount of anxiety. Arthur just knew that Merlin's constant state of discomfort was because of the magic surrounding him, perhaps Merlin could sense the danger that was always around, even if the other man couldn't see it? Still, Arthur didn't want to tell Merlin about the magic constantly surrounding him, it would give poor Merlin a heart attack! His loyal manservant always looked scared, just for a split second, when magic was even mentioned, and Arthur didn't want to give Merlin the fright of his life by telling him that he was now being targeted by the god of magic because of Arthur's actions.

Emrys truly was a wily and devious god! Of course the nefarious god of magic wouldn't put Arthur's burden on Arthur's shoulders alone. No, it was the way of magic that it targeted the innocent, threatening people that had nothing to do with the ritual in the first place! This curse was Arthur's to bear alone, but of course Emrys would not abide by that!

Arthur tried to keep his cursing out of the god in his own thoughts to a minimum, just in case Emrys could hear his thoughts, which was entirely plausible given their mental connection. Eventually, it all becomes too much for Arthur. He fears that he'll be ultimately used as a tool to aid Emrys in the destruction of Camelot, so he makes plans to secretly give the crown to Gwen and resign all of his power. He still has to physically stay in Camelot, who knows what evil Emrys would rain down upon the kingdom if he realized that his pawn had left, but at the very least Emrys couldn't manipulate Arthur into ruining Camelot of Arthur wasn't in charge of Camelot.

Merlin, having spent ten years convincing Arthur that he's a great king and will lead Camelot into the golden age as its king, hearing that Arthur is planning on abdicating the throne in order to foil Emrys's plans: YOU FUCKING WHAT?!

Merlin, during all of this, has been using his connection with Arthur as sparingly as possible. He knows how much of a toll this who "familiar" thing has been for Arthur, and he wants to make it as small of a burden as possible, only giving Arthur life-saving and non-invasive commands.

But Merlin absolutely will NOT allow Arthur to give up his throne, to throw away their destiny, over a threat that isn't even really a threat! So, with a heavy heart, Merlin decides to use his "Emrys voice" to give Arthur a stern talking-to.

Merlin was hoping for his mental lecture to come off as a parent gently guiding a child away from making a terrible mistake, but on Arthur's end, he has a pissed off and sleep deprived deity shouting at full blast inside his mind about "abandoning his destiny" and "not trusting in fate".

For Arthur, it's the most terrifying thing he's ever experienced, and he can see the golden threads around Merlin flashing brightly around him when his manservant comes to wake him the next morning. Arthur gets the message: he has displeased Emrys, and Emrys is only going to give him one warning before Merlin bears the punishment for Arthur's disobedience. And however much Arthur wants to ensure that Camelot is protected from Emrys's plots, he cannot lose Merlin. So, Arthur calls off his plans to abdicate, in accordance with Emrys's commands.

(Arthur hates it like nothing else in the world. Not even following Uther's orders made rage and frustration flare up in his chest as it did now. Emrys knew exactly where to apply pressure to make Arthur break, and the villainous god had done exactly that.)

However, Arthur's attempt at abdication and Emrys's subsequent rage still did not answer Arthur's question: what plans did Emrys have for him? For what purpose did the evil god need Arthur alive and on the throne for?

Arthur wouldn't get any answers until the next battle against Morgana. Arthur's army was poised to battle against Morgana's Saxon hoarde in the morning, but Arthur couldn't get any sleep. Arthur knew that it was imperative for him to lead from the front lines as a strong and noble king, fighting alongside his loyal knights. However, Arthur couldn't shake the doubts rising in his mind. He was the familiar to the god of magic now, how did he know that he would not be forced by Emrys to betray Camelot in the heat of battle? Surely Emrys would be favoring Morgana in this battle?

So, in the privacy of his tent, Arthur knelt down and prayed for the first time since the ritual. Arthur had tried every other possible way of communicating with Emrys, but their mental connection either seemed to be one-sided or Emrys was ignoring all of mental messages for him. However, Arthur knew that Emrys couldn't possibly resist hearing what made a Pendragon so desperate that he would humiliate himself in such a way to the god of magic.

That night before the battle, Arthur prayed for Emrys to please help him protect his home and his knights. Arthur told Emrys that regardless of Emrys's feelings toward Arthur, his knights were good men who deserved to live to see another sunrise. Arthur begged for Camelot's innocent citizens to be spared from Morgana's wrath.

To Arthur's shock, he heard Emrys respond through their bond. His voice was softer than Arthur had ever heard it. In fact, the voice was so soft and gentle, Arthur swore that it sounded like Merlin's voice for a split second: I will be with you.

Arthur felt only slightly comforted by that. It could have been a sly trick from Emrys to get Arthur to lower his guard before the battle, but for some reason, Arthur didn't think that it was.

During the battle itself, Arthur is surrounded by complete chaos. At one point, he surrounded by at least eight enemies, having been cut off from his knights. He readies himself to either cut down his opponents or go down fighting when, all of a sudden, the strings of golden dust that had been knocking enemy soldiers off their feet rushed towards Arthur. Arthur braced himself, but when the light touched Arthur, it simple diffused itself into his skin, like it did at the end of the ritual that landed Arthur in this whole mess.

However, this time, the golden light that clung onto Arthur's skin didn't simply fade. Instead, it grew brighter and brighter, nearly forcing Arthur to close his eyes against the luminosity of it! After the light had grown to a blinding glow, it flew off of Arthur's skin with a blast, violently knocking away any Saxons that it hit. When Arthur's sight cleared and he looked around, he could see that all of Morgana's front lines, encompassing at least a thousand fully-armed Saxons, had been decimated by the blast.

Arthur stood alone, still separated from his men, and looked all around him with awe and horror in equal amounts. He could still feel the golden light on his skin, a slight tingling sensation that made the hair on his arms raise. Did... did Arthur just perform magic?! Had he blasted away all of those soldiers?!

Oh god, this was Emrys's plan all along, wasn't it! To turn Arthur into some power-hungry sorcerer corrupted by magic!

As Arthur's panic worked its way deeper into his chest and up his throat, Emrys spoke to him once more: That was my doing, Arthur, not yours.

With hysteria still gripping his chest, Arthur tilted his head to the heavens and shouted: "Give me more of an explanation than that for once you bastard! I need answers!"

And, shockingly, Emrys responded to him: I merely used you as a conduit for my magic. I was channeling my power through you. Be at ease, young king, for you are no sorcerer.

(Merlin, hidden nearby, mentally gives himself a pat on the back for both sounding sufficiently god-like and successfully channeling his magic through Arthur to make it drastically more powerful for the first time, since he was saving that particular ability for a real emergency, like that Arthur getting surrounded by angry Saxons. He'd wanted to avoid freaking Arthur out with that ability, but he'd take a panicked Arthur over a dead Arthur any day.)

After they return to Camelot victorious, Arthur is morose once more. How can his loves ones even be safe when they're in the room with him if Emrys could turn him into a living magical weapon at a moment's notice?!

(And one time skip and a dramatic magic reveal later, followed by a tense and emotional confrontation between Merlin and Arthur, Arthur would be pissed beyond words that he'd been made into a servant FOR HIS OWN DAMNED SERVANT!

Once Arthur works through his anger towards Merlin, he realizes that the whole ridiculous situation does make for some fun banter though.

And if Merlin's able to save Arthur from a fatal wound after Camlann thanks to their magical connection, then the prophecy would just say that they were truly two sides of the same coin: each a king and a servant to the other.)

Phew! That was a long post! Well, I hope that everyone enjoyed this au idea! I'll see you all again soon!

And, as always, thank you so much for reading through my ramblings! :D

[studiogrimm810]

Midnight Coffee

// Est. Sam Winchester x you

summary: it's late and you can't sleep. at least you're home with sam // ~900 // base content: avoiding sleep, nightmares, sweet and loving sam

A/N: posting this (my first drabble!!) early to make sure i've fixed the glitches in my posts, sorry if this gets deleted :( if so, it means that i have NOT fixed the issue lolol :/

A symphony of insects buzzed in the dense woods just behind your home. It was a crisp summer night, about two in the morning, and you had been completely unable to fall asleep so you came out to the porch for some fresh air. Your porch. The thought alone makes you smile.

You and Sam had moved on from hunting and settled down in this small, cozy home on the outskirts of Lebanon. It has been a few months since you made the move and every day it still feels like a dream that you’re afraid to wake up from.

Dean and Cas visit often, but they decided to stay at the bunker for a little while longer, enjoying the home they found in it from the very beginning, but you and Sam craved a simpler life of a white-picket fenced home with a garden and porch swing to live in in peace.

However, when leaving the bunker and dropping that life behind, you found that the darkness still followed you. PTSD, you accepted from your therapist's diagnosis, haunted you even in this perfect slice of Heaven on Earth. It tainted your sleep and coated your everyday under a nasty goo that dampened the joy you almost had with your new life.

It’s not that you don’t feel that joy still, but you were so broken by your lifetime of loneliness and misery that you couldn’t exactly just leave that behind the steel, 10-inch thick doors of the bunker.

So here you sat, in your favorite spot of the house, the porch swing that Sam installed just for you, for nights like these. You didn’t have it in you to wake Sam up, you never could when it came to restless sleep or taunting nightmares, so you quietly slipped out with a blanket from the living room and settled into the creaky swing to hopefully distance yourself.

But, of course, Sam is Sam and he noticed your absence shortly and has learned that if you’re not in bed, then you’re most likely right where you are now.

“Hey,” he hums before opening the screen door. He tried to announce his presence subtly but you were still startled at his voice. You whipped around in time to watch him push open the door and step out, sleepy eyes drinking you up. “Can’t sleep?” He comes over and sits on the opposite end of the bench, lifting your legs to place them in his lap. His hands mindlessly run up your limbs, soft skin warming under his touch.

“M-mm,” you shake your head, resting it back into the padding of the bench and looking up into the night sky.

“You could’ve woke me up,” he reminds, resting his head back into the bench as well to level with you, looking right at you and cementing your features back into his memory, again. He can’t help himself, he has to memorize you just in case. It’s his own haunting of PTSD.

“I know,” you murmur, meeting his gaze. He looks tired and  you feel bad that your absence woke him up and forced him out of bed. You know he wouldn’t want you to feel that way at all, you just can’t help yourself.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks with a slight squint, knowing it’s a difficult water to tread.

“It’s Hell,” you state simply. Of course, you’ve been stamped with the hunter badge of honor for dying and coming back with a drizzle of Hell during your mortem. His stomach sinks because he knows how stalling that can be for a person, and he hates to be reminded that you, as warm, kind, loving, and pure as you were, still suffered at the expense of The Life.

He just nods, massaging his fingers into the meat of your calf, mixing his moves into your feet and sending warm chills up your back. Your eyes close as you relish the pleasure.

It’s quiet for a while as he continues to slowly work up your legs, keeping steady pressure as he aims to keep you as relaxed as he can. He wants to talk, simple conversation that never got boring with you, but he understands the cloud of trauma that keeps your tongue bit back and words impossible to form.

So instead, he thinks of a simple offer, “coffee?”

Your eyes, reopened and focused back onto the glittered night sky, drift back over to him and a small smile lifts your lips.

“Yes, please.”

His hands move back up your legs, gripping softly at your hips, as he leans down to press a chaste kiss to your thigh before he stands back up again.

“Anything, my love,” he settles the blanket back over your legs, tucking it snug around your frame, and leans down to kiss your temple, hesitating against your skin for a moment to inhale your fruity shampoo.

You watch him disappear back into your home, and he opens the kitchen window so you can hear him work and smell the freshly grinding beans.

This is the life you were destined to have. Even if the shadows hold echoes of your troubled past, fresh coffee on a homey night to keep the dreams at bay is all you could’ve hoped for, especially since the one handing you the mug was your beloved, Sam Winchester.

thank you so much for reading!! <3

>>check out my other works here

tags: @blossomingorchids @areswasneverhere @bejeweledinterludes @funkenniffler @iamaslytherin0

[chuwuyas]

about c&r

Hello my dear saioumers, it is I, jul chuwuyas. I wanted to stop by to talk a little bit about c&r since people ask me about it a lot

Unfortunately, to talk about it, I will have to dive into some personal stuff and share some things with you all that I've been keeping to myself for quite some time now and didn't really want to share, but felt like I needed to. So, since some stuff will be kinda, uh... serious? I will put everything under the cut

(TL;DR for those who don't wanna read about my personal life tho: c&r is NOT abandoned, but writer's block is not the only reason why I haven't updated the fic yet (tho it is one of them). I don't know when the hiatus will end. I'm sorry)

(CW for the things under the cut: mental illness, pet death, suicide ideation)

So, to start: yes, writer's block is one of the reasons why c&r is on hiatus. No, I have not been lying about it. I burned out so badly in 2021 that it's Still hard for me to write things that satisfy me because I reached my peak back then and was popping out 5, 6 fics in a month for 7/8 whole months when my usual is/was about 2 or 3 a year (if you check my ao3 page and the dates in which my fics were posted, you'll see that aside from the danganronpa fics, that usually was the case. I'm a slow writer). I'm still recovering. And the universe seems to not want me to.

Last year, around January, I felt like I was finally setting myself free from writer's block. I started writing something for my oc ship (yes, yes, I know. Not c&r. But what can I say? They bring me comfort) and I was so happy with what I got, so inspired to write, I was actually seeing the words on the doc again.

Then, one of my three cats got sick. Then, he died.

It completely broke me in a way I don't think I will ever recover. I was extremely attached to him and I drained all the money I had saved for therapy to try to save him, but it didn't work and I lost my cat, the money, and consequently my mental health. We spent almost an entire month taking him to the vet and bringing him back home because the vet kept telling us he was okay and then he'd get even worse and need hospitalization again, so that was more money spent on him. I had my friends help me with that, and I am immensely grateful even though it didn't work out in the end. Thank you for helping me bring him some comfort on his last days @ friendos.

After he died, a couple of months later, I tried writing again and managed to write a few thousand words, but my mental health still wasn't the best. Then, I started getting some personal problems that I will not talk about here but took a toll on me and shoved me back into the writer's block box, but now with the addition of increasingly growing self-doubt and depressive thoughts that soon turned suicidal.

Then, around September, another cat of mine got sick. And, this time, we didn't have money to help him.

He was my best friend. We basically grew up together (he was 13 and was born when I was 11, so I had him longer than I didn't have him) and I was also extremely attached to him. When he got sick, I would sit down on the floor and talk to him in tears asking him to hold on just until I got a job so I could pay for his bills. I didn't get a job fast enough to help him. It was me who found him, too.

From August to November, things were so bad in my life (between my personal life, my pets' deaths, and family members getting sick) I genuinely caught myself considering ending my suffering. Planning it. Thinking about it every day. Not wanting to wake up. It was a rough period of my life that I made it through alone because I didn't really tell anyone what was going on with me. I wished I could go back to the past. I wished I could change things to make the future not so bad. I'm still caught up in the past and nostalgic for a time that will not come back no matter how much I wish it would. But I pushed it through.

And one of the things that kept me from ending it all was the fact I haven't finished c&r yet.

I didn't wanna go without concluding the story. I didn't wanna go without showing you all what I have planned for the last chapter and how this story will end. So, I started using c&r as some sort of anchor — something to keep me going because I still have something to do on this earth before leaving. I love this story and I don't wanna leave it unfinished. I wanna see your reactions reading the last chapter, the freaking out, the key smashes, the DMs I'll receive, the theories, the fanarts. I love how big this story got and the little fandom it got for itself. People love something that I wrote so much they make art of it! They cosplay the characters, they write things based on it! It's so mindblowing that something like this would ever happen to me, I started telling myself: I can't die until I finish catch & release.

My mental health is way better now and I'm no longer considering suicide (though, ough, it sucks not having a lot of money). I have a job now and can pay for the vet in case my last cat gets sick. My personal life is good now, too, and my relative who's sick is doing a lot better. I have things to look forward to. Things are good now. I'm happy, though I still miss my cats every day.

I am, however, still using c&r as one of my anchors, and I don't know when I will stop doing so. So, for now, the fic is still on hiatus. But it isn't abandoned, and it will never be. I will finish it one day. So, until then, keep bearing with me.

Thank you for reading, and most of all thank you for understanding. I love you all.

[luvtonique]

I feel like my artist career might be nearly over.

Now mind you, not because I'm burnt out, or because of some kind of controversy, but entirely because I don't know how much longer I can keep trying to push forward with it.

I don't hate my art, I don't even dislike it. It's my passion, and I want my entire life to be a life or creating art and telling stories.

I love sharing what I create with the world and I love having support from my fanbase.

But as of right now, I just can't get anyone noticing anything I do.

I've been working on a video game for almost a full year now, have gameplay footage I've shown, sprite animations, story I've shown off, characters I've been drawing and describing and giving backstories, and I get like 20 notes tops on anything I post.

I do streams for an average of 5 viewers every Monday and Wednesday and Friday. 5 viewers.

I have had a fundraiser to get me out of California because I can't afford to live here, I'm disabled, and I have a 75yo mother and an autistic brother I'm trying to get out of here too, and I barely scraped together $3000 of donations over the last year.

I pour my heart and soul into music that I've been writing and I'm met with backlash or people flat out ignoring the songs I post because people say my lyrics I write aren't worthy of notice or a paycheck. Soundcloud outright denied my ability to monetize my music. Completely. I am no longer able to request monetization.

The state of California has spent the last 15 years denying my attempts to get SSI, state disability, any kind of social security for my rheumatoid arthritis, and I even got told by a disability lawyer that they had to decline my case because I don't take medication for my disability. When I told them I don't have medical insurance because I don't qualify for MediCAL, they said that isn't their problem.

I watch other artists with 170,000 followers on Twitter bashing me and saying I don't deserve my fanbase for reasons they're just making up, and when I try to defend myself they just bash me harder and block me while I'm over on Twitter with like 300 followers and not getting noticed by anyone.

I reach out to my friends to get retweets, reblogs, etc. and I get nothing. No help, no love, after literal years of me promoting them and doing multistreams with them and collabs with them to help them get noticed.

I've even been blocked by multiple friends of mine when I asked if they wanted to partner up for projects. Really! Blocked! Outright blocked because people want so badly to get away from me!

I am literally starving. I'm currently eating stale sourdough bread that my mom made 2 weeks ago because it's all we have in the house.

I'm sitting here suffering constantly and when I ask people if they wanna like do a collab or do an art trade they always tell me they don't have time, and then the next day I see them post 6-7 art trades they did with another artist.

I make fan-art or fan-music for my artist friends and they just completely ignore it.

I am planning to rework my Patreon into a game dev Patreon to help support my solo development on Melodi, and I guarantee with certainty it won't breach $300 a month.

I have spent my entire life from age 11 to age 35 just working hard to make a living off of my art and all I have earned is a reputation as "a shithead" who never gets given the opportunity to question or debate or be interviewed by the people who call me a shithead.

I'm on the verge of fizzling out.

I'm barely surviving.

And when my game comes out, some day, it may very well be the last thing you ever see from me. I may just leave the internet. I may give up and go find another life to live.

Because even though this is my dream, even though this is all I've ever wanted to do with my life, even though I'm talented and my few fans I still have love everything I make and constantly tell me that my creations are gorgeous, I just plain can't keep doing this forever. I cannot, and will not, continue to suffer alone and obscure.

Case in point: This post is gonna get 2-6 comments from the same people who comment on all my emotional posts saying "I wish I could help but I can't so here's a virtual hug," 16-25 likes and 2 reblogs. And then I'll delete the post.

[teriwrites]

Behind Closed Doors: 'A Secret Engagement'

My Live Reactions to Reading Through My 2014 Novel

Buckle up, this chapter is FOURTEEN THOUSAND WORDS LONG!

It's springtime in the city, and Cedric spends most of his unemployed life acting like he's still employed (meeting with all of his old coworkers and companions)

Remember how Delroy walked in on Santos and Eleri secretly convening in a room at one point? Right, so they're ENGAGED. Secretly, even! Time to roll credits for this chapter

Governors are already trying to reinstate Boyd's role and it's literally been like a handful of months since he got fired in the first place

Delroy 'barely sees non-humans due to the general oppression of any species tied to magic' vs. Fayina 'hanging out with a werewolf and fighting off vampires left and right'

This chapter is proof that I've always loved a little infodumping about worldbuilding lol, we've covered the mailing system, and we're onto religion - just wait until we reach Lady Ghislaine's actual story. The woman loves to yap, what can I say?

Eleri needs more friends - asking Delroy to review your sketches of the dress you want to sew for your wedding is a little sad, girly

Omg Cedric fired Eleri

"I have warned the staff time and time again that I do not have the income to afford to keep all of you." okay bro but like you're hosting a hugely important dinner tonight, maybe now's not the time to fire your one maid... also, where tf is all your money going?? you're like one of the richest men in the country??

I mean at least you're no longer in his debt, girly

Broooo Delroy stop showing sympathy for the rich asshole you work for, he clearly doesn't give a shit about his employees

"I'm sure he's afraid that you'll forget about him as well. The two of you will be fine." How could he promise that, though? He knew very little about the hearts of young men and women. Never once had he considered marriage, nor did he think he ever would. (a return of my best attempt at calling this boy out as ace)

Why is it implied that people wouldn't be supportive of Eleri and Santos' relationship?? Is this a racism thing?? For some reason, I had it in my head that Eleri was actually a faun, but nothing in the story itself has alluded to that, so either I simply forgot to mention the whole 'lower-half of a goat' situation or else I decided to toss in racism???? for some reason???? specifically for this one interracial couple?????

Somehow Delroy and Santos alone managed to draw up a feast for the dinner party Cedric is hosting, and immediately commit faux pas by bowing to Cedric (lowest ranking member of said party) instead of the Prime Minister

The Prime Minister somehow manages to be an even bigger dickhead than Cedric Boyd!! Not that he's a worse man, but he's definitely worse at hiding it

Lady Ghislaine is heeeeere, star of the show even when she's a secondary character

Wait this might be The Scene

The Prime Minister's wife has a cold, surely a sign that women must be the weaker of the sexes!!!!! Something he says with his full chest in front of the foreign, female diplomat

Of course, something must always go wrong at a dinner party: Santos and Delroy didn't prepare enough drinks! Santos still has work to do on preparing the cider, and they might not have enough wine!!

Don't ask me what meal goes with both cider and wine, but they were like the two alcoholic drinks I actually knew anything about at the ripe old age of 16

'Useless noble class, Delroy thought bitterly to himself. What do they do but sit upon thrones of wealth and watch the rest of us suffer?' *cough cough*

'The Prime Minister had appeared to make an inappropriate comment about women once more, for Delroy could see Lady Ghislaine holding in a retort. Neil Oscar leaned his elbow on the table to look down its length and smirked. "What's the matter, my Lady? Are you tired of always being at the foot of the table?" (I literally just went 'oh shiiiit' out loud)

HERE IT IS

"You surely cannot believe that women are equal?" "I think," Lady Ghislaine interrupted dryly. "That you forgot to whom you are speaking. As an elven women proficient in half a dozen languages, ambassador currently to Ardeai and previously to both Kasira and Garth at separate times, holder of the Iron Heart for services in battle, educated in one of Kasira's greatest universities and knowledgeable in numerous subjects no longer taught there such as astronomy and biology, once a member of my King's personal court, and having earned the title of 'Lady' in numerous countries before my 25th birthday - and not because my father was a noble, for he was a measly trader - I believe that I have a reason for thinking women are as capable as a man. Unless you would like to hear my longer list of achievements?" The Prime Minister gave her no response, and a tense silence fell over the crowd of people sitting around the table.' (YEEEEEEEEEEAH)

Okay that^ section is a little bit dramatic, I'll admit, but when I decided to toss Lady Ghislaine into a worldbuilding project, I wanted to find a way to include some of that speech into her new backstory. So a lot of the achievements that she lists here are actually events or somehow included in my 2022 WIP, 'The Lies in the Legend'. We'll see a lot more of that later :)

At least the fatphobia in this one is acknowledged as a social construct brought into being by the whims of those in power............. so, yk, baby steps

Delroy's such a shit cook, and honestly, what a mood

Teri, you don't need to recount events that occurred literally earlier in this draft, the reader will remember it lol

Or they won't, but then it'll just seem like a weird addition

Implied that rumors abound about Lady Ghislaine's relationship with Cedric, which I hate so much that I'll be ignoring that from now until eternity lol

Maybe my grammar still wasn't perfect, but one thing about me is that I'm gonna be using the proper verbiage when something 'piques' someone's attention

Delroy, why would you even know this diplomat's kingdom's national flower?

(The answer is that it was one I invented in an old worldbuilding project, and i had to show it off)

Boy from the plains and the plateaus still struggles with stairs, bless his heart

Delroy's writing a memoir. What a tool.

Lady Ghislaine's memoir, though! That's something worth reading ;)

And that's lights out!

Ending Thoughts:

I think I can promise that I'll stop being a little Lady Ghislaine fangirl after this. We have two chapters left (well, one and then whatever I wrote of the following), and if she makes any appearances, they'll likely be few and far between. Anyways! Back to the Actual story! Despite this chapter being Long As Fuck, it also falls pretty neatly into what I've been calling the 'mediocre midsection' of this series. Basically, a lot of unnecessary and relatively uninteresting details for every action being made throughout a scene. It's a positive sign, a step in a good direction, as I learned how to string scenes together and was playing around with exactly what needs to be included, but it leaves less room for commentary, and generally makes the reading less exciting. Progress doesn't always guarantee something interesting, and that's okay!

[suedesongs]

A Serious Personal Statement

Hi all. I'm really sorry this hiatus has gone on longer than anticipated.

My original plan was to write out most of these and post one per week, but I got a bit ahead of myself and just did a "they come out when they come out" approach. I underestimated how much of an undertaking it is with a full time job.

Not only this, but since around April of 2024, and particularly after the end of Suede's run of summer shows here, I've been really unwell. It took 9 months, but I've been diagnosed with M.E. If you're a Suede fan you're probably familiar with this particular condition, as Neil Codling also suffers from it. I'm still just about holding on to my day job (I work from home in an administration role) by the skin of my teeth but can do very little else. Even sitting up in bed to write leaves me a shell of a person the next day, stuck in bed, willing my body to just... work. And it just won't.

I figured if I moved my base of operations for my writing from my desk to my bed, I would stop getting P.E.M from my writing sessions. How wrong I was. It still happens. My usual response to "how are you" is "oh, getting by", but, quite honestly, things are grim at the moment. My M.E is considered moderate, but even mild M.E is a serious illness which affects one's capabilities and quality of life immeasurably.I'm not going to die from it, but I'm almost entirely housebound, and becoming increasingly bedbound. So I'm not really sure where this project will be going.

May is M.E awareness month. An estimated between 404,000 and 1.3 million people have this illness in the UK alone, and have our lives indefinitely frozen and put on hold. Lying in bed in immeasurable pain whilst our peers hit milestones around us. And still we are the butt of jokes. Told it's "yuppie flu". Funnily, in the Love and Poison bonus features you can see in standard definition glory, the Suede lads cracking an M.E joke, taking note of a still Neil, who had by this time, left the band due to this very illness and is so unable to defend himself "exerting himself as usual". For people with our condition, even sitting upright can count as exertion. Even sitting up in bed can count as exertion. Having our bloody eyes open counts as exertion.

So even working on just my notes for this project has been difficult, frankly. Trying to focus when you constantly feel like you're hungover, have the flu and have been run over by a lorry is...not easy.

I'm also struggling with a rather gutting indifference to all things Suede at the moment. I've been on the receiving end of a fair amount of nastiness from the community, whether it be due to my illness and people placing doubt on my severity or whether I even have it at all (a reminder that you only get to see or hear from chronic illness sufferers is when we are feeling our best), or whether people take exception to my more left wing interpretations of lyrics; Suede are a political band, whether you like it or not, and this is a lens I will continue to interpret their songs through, whether you agree or not. Suede's lyrics stand up for marginalised people and speak of class oppression and are therefore inherently left wing. This hasn't been explored here much yet but believe me, we're getting there. I've also been subjected to a series of character attacks on my personal accounts from Suede fans I thought were my friends. This has made listening to them difficult. The same thing happened with The Manics. A band I cared deeply about, until their fans ruined it for me. And you know what? It's always other women, who clearly didn't get the memo that women should uplift one another.

In light of attacks I have faced due to my support of the fight for trans rights, or my hope for the liberation of Palestine from the Israeli occupation; Suede have always stuck up for marginalised people, and there's plenty of trans representation in their work. In light of the recent supreme court decision here in the UK, I would like to reiterate that this blog is a safe space for trans and non-binary people. I wish I were well enough to march with you, but you are safe and accepted here, and I will not tolerate transphobia, no matter how small an aggression it may be.

Whilst on the subject too, I feel the need to clarify that despite my love of Suede, I am deeply disappointed in their violation of the cultural boycott of Israel. They haven't played or done events there since 7/10, nobody in their right mind would, but as recently as pre-7/10 2023, Suede have played concerts to, despite a supposedly large Israeli fanbase, half empty arenas in Tel Aviv. This can be put down to simply a lack of knowledge on the subject, but the Israeli government inviting Western acts to play in their country is often an attempt to whitewash their human rights abuses. What makes this sting even harder is that if you are Palestinian, or even a part of the Palestinian diaspora, you would be unable to attend these concerts. By playing concerts in Israel, you are upholding Israeli apartheid. This is something I feel I must reiterate I do not condone in any way.

Ultimately this project is niche, and I'm incredibly grateful for those who want to stick around to hear what I have to say, even if it sometimes delves into legitimate criticism of a band I truly do love and have dedicated so many years of my life to.

I will resume eventually. It's just such a giant undertaking, and considering I have had all of this going on in the background, it's frankly near enough impossible. I want what I write to be as good as it can possibly be, and I don't think I'm capable of that at this moment in time.

For now you can read my mostly non-Suede works over on Substack (and the odd bit of Suede work that doesn't fit here too):

Suede Songs will resume. I just need to focus on getting better right now. I hope you understand and will join me in the fight for finding a cure or new treatments for M.E, an illness which is still not taken as seriously as it should be. Whilst it may not kill its sufferers directly, people have died, and will continue to die as a result of this utterly horrendous illness, and the rest of us, perhaps we could be considered the lucky ones, live our lives in stasis. Alive, but not really living.

Love and Poison.

Madeline.

[kedamo-nogetoffthetable]

A collection of poems I've posted on Sky: CoTL through shared messages over the months

I beg y'all, if you recognize any of these PLEASE tell me that you've seen them

"Somedays it feels like you ripped my heart out instead. -S." Placed in the Wasteland Battlefield, near the Lookout spirit

"You put your greed above the safety of your people. You let it fester and rot you from within. Why must my siblings and I - mere children - fix your mistakes?" Can't remember. Very old poem, I think it was in Home or Forest.

"How much longer must I have to wait to feel your warmth again? -S." I believe was in the first Wasteland area, right after the social space.

"There was a day I looked up to you with wonder, and in return you inspired me. That day is far in the past. Now I fear you for the monsters you truly are." ....forest???

"When I looked into your eyes, so dark and full of hatred, I knew I had lost you. -S." Hey Shin. I love you, i love writing about OC x CC but why did I have to post so many grief poems that I don't remember where i placed them, wtf.

"I've loved you since the night we fell. How could I go on without you now, when I need you most? -S." DAMMIT SHIN.

"You used to hold me so softly. I knew i was safe when your arms were around me. Now as you tear me open, piece by piece, I wonder where those gentle hands went. -s." I swear to god you better have been in the wasteland temple you painful poem

"I've been finding it hard to sleep at night. My work has been used against me and those it was meant to help. I feel as though I'm to blame. Can anything I do really make up for what I let happen? -A." Placed directly infront of the Prairie Temple

As of late, I've felt rather useless. A soldier who cannot fight? What is there when I cannot even carry out my duty? I have a family bacm home, waiting for me. But I can feel my strength ebb away each day that passes in this tent. I hope I'm remembered." Wasteland Battlefield

"I am barely old enough to tie my own sandals, yet they seek my counsel. Every day, it's endless questions. How could I know better? I am but a child! They have ruled their realms far longer than I've been alive. Why can't the adults fix their own problems. -A." Isle of Dawn, just behind the spawn point

"I wish you would put yourself first. I have always admired your bravery, but it scares me to know I might lose my only family because you think you have to shoulder the blame. -t." Orbit, a few steps behind the valley twins

"A cavern that reeks of suffering and regret, home to a deadbeat who can't break the cycle of pain and relapse... I think I'd fit in just fine here." Slouching Soldier's funky ass giant bottle

"Let's suffer together, Soldier. We can sit in the inescapable dread of silence, recounting how everything went wrong. We'll wallow in our thoughts, convincing our withering bodies that we can't fix anything. Lets be alone together." Placed in the comments of the poem above.

"My memories sing of warm, golden sands. They do not recall this cold, green desert. What has become of our home?" Golden Wasteland, right before the temple w/ first krill

"Eden was the heart of our civilization, and the Vault was our mind. They are both broken beyond repair. What does that say about us? We built this kingdom, and in the same breath we destroyed it." Vault box area. Really wish I said 'with the same hands' not breath

"The touch of your hands is seared into my flesh. Every scar on my body is testament to the pain I was subjected to in your rage. I trace each mark and weep, mourning the person you once were. -s" SHIINNNNN.... I think all of their grief was in wasteland.

"I miss when we could dance in the rain without a care in the world. -s." Forest Brook, Underneath the bridge

"The stars are especially bright tonight. Are you watching me, Mother? -....." Valley of Triumph Hot Spring

^ there was another poem similar to this, in the same spot.

"I remember playing in the rain as a child. Now these memories bringg me pain, with the knowledge that my children will never experience that."

"I wish the skies were still full of light creatures. Every day I am forced to bear hearing the mantas, crying from their cages... The Elders must be cruel and heartless to do this without guilt." Valley of Triumph Hot Spring

note:

"Sweet child of the lilac dawn. I can't help but wonder of your pain. How had you felt, when your mother held you for the last time? When you could no longer recognize the child in the mirror? As your kingdom lay dying, did you blame yourself, too?" Home, right infront of Eden.

Most if not all of these are intended to be letters from OCs, canon Elders (including Resh/Alef), or ambiguous/unnamed ancestors and sky kids.

Close to nothing on here was a vent or my personal feelings. I feel like I have to put this note because a LOT of people would comment on my poems hoping for me to get better.

On my letter from Ayin, I got a comment telling me to praise god and he'll save me, and a multitude of "i hope you feel better :("

Thank you, but seriously??? 😭

And some poems may be paraphrased. A lot of these were written in a notebook, and had to be shortened when I posted them in Sky.

Will have poems added in the future, I think.

[bejoomi]

letters i can't send: 02

saturday after training, joomi drives to his usual bar.

he doesn't get out of the car, though. he sits in the parking lot and fights with himself.

he desperately wants to kiss someone – to feel wanted again, just for a little while. it doesn't have to mean anything. he can flirt with a random guy at the bar and make out with him and maybe go home with him, if the stars align. he can feel a little less lonely for a few hours, until reality sets in and he feels empty and cold.

this is what he does to cope – not always, but too often. he knows it isn't healthy. he knows he'll never find what he really wants here. he is just chasing remnants of what he once had, desperate to prove to himself that the emptiness isn't permanent – that he will one day feel satisfied and safe again.

but he doesn't. again and again, he doesn't and he doesn't.

he knows the key doesn't lie in another person. he needs to learn how to be alone again. it's such a strange concept, for someone who spent 20 years of his life only relying on himself. his therapist says this is normal and understandable. of course he doesn't want to go back to how things were now that he knows what it's like to be loved. of course the idea of it scares him. of course he feels sad and lonely and empty.

he pulls out of the bar parking lot and drives home. the apartment is quiet when he arrives. sua is likely still training, or maybe asleep. biscuit doesn't even come to greet him at the door.

he bellyflops onto his bed.

sometimes, these days, he is angry, too – because this suffering was all preventable. jinyoung could've stayed. he just chose not to.

joomi grabs one of his notebooks and a pen, then sits back down on his bed.

he still feels silly doing this, but his therapist told him it would be good for him, so he might as well keep trying. he starts writing:

jinyoung,

i miss you. it really pisses me off.

i met up with kou for drinks after you enlisted. i told him you told me you loved me a couple days beforehand. he said "that's a little cruel, to finally tell you he loves you only to leave."

i didn't even think of it like that. isn't that sad? i was just so happy then. so happy to win any shred of your affection and have proof of it.

in some ways, nobody else gets it. nobody knows how hard we worked for you to be able to love me. both of us worked hard. so you telling me was an accomplishment. but kou is still right.

you didn't have to leave. you could've just stayed. i'm sure you could've gotten a job at jindallae's restaurant while you figured out what you wanted to do next. you could've at least given me more time.

we worked so hard for...years, for two weeks of being in love. and i loved those two weeks. i just wish it could've been longer. even if you still enlisted, couldn't you have waited until after christmas? after my birthday? did you know how excited i was to be loved by you on christmas and my birthday? and maybe i still was, even though you weren't here for them. but i don't know.

i know you loved me as best as you could, but that doesn't mean it was well. that doesn't mean it was the kind of love i deserve. you know that, don't you? i think you always knew that.

but it's still the love i want. i have been trying so hard to move on. too hard, maybe. i'm trying a different strategy these days, where i just feel how i feel and accept it. i always feel better when i don't beat myself up for my thoughts or feelings. i've gotten better at that in recent years, but it's still a habit to feel stupid for feeling certain things.

these days i feel stupid for still loving you as much as i do. it's been over six months now – how is it still this fucking bad? how do i still miss you so much? how am i still here like a dog waiting for you to come home? i would do anything i could to get a glimpse of you through the mail slot. i am still here putting my paws against the window searching for your face.

it's embarrassing, but it's just how things are. i love you so much, moon jinyoung, and i don't know why. i just do.

i hope i move on soon, or that you come back for me and tell me that you love me and that you missed me. i am trying not to wait, but i'm not trying to move on. it hurts too much. it doesn't work and it's frustrating and i know it's because i'm just not ready. so i think instead of trying to move on, i need to just...i don't know. i don't know yet. i think i just need to exist where i am, and grow without forcing it.

so i love you. so i miss you. so i'm mad at you, and for now, i still know that if you walked through my bedroom door today i would wrap you up in my arms right away. i'd kiss your face and tell you that i love you and missed you and make you promise me you won't leave me like this again.

but that's not reality. you won't come home for another year and i might not be part of what home is to you by then. maybe i will love someone else and be happier than i ever was with you. that would be nice.

in the meantime, i will just...feel it all. i still wish you were here. there are still some days i wake up hoping this was all a dream and that i'll find you next to me again.

but you aren't, and that is a choice you made. it is a choice i have to live with. and it's frustrating. you never sacrificed a thing for me, did you? you never considered my feelings in any choice you ever made. you never apologized to me, either. how could i love someone like that? how could i love you so much? how could i do this to myself?

sometimes i wonder if it would've been better if i let you get kicked out of that cat cafe instead of buying you a drink and getting in a fight with you. would the universe keep bringing us together again? were we just...destined to meet, and fall in our dysfunctional form of love? i never believed in shit like that before. i don't know.

i did my best. i wasn't perfect, but i loved you so earnestly, in ways you might not have deserved. and it was painful a lot, but i loved loving you. life with you made me understand what people mean when they say they love being alive.

so i will treasure my time with you always. part of me hopes this is just a small bump in a lifetime's long road with you. part of me hopes this is it, and that i'll be over you tomorrow and never look back.

realistically, i'll end up somewhere in the middle. but you did change my life, moon jinyoung. a lot of times it was painful, but you changed my life for the better in the end. so thank you.

i hope you feel the same way about me. it would make me really happy if you thought i changed your life for the better. i hope you tell me that one day. i hope i mattered to you that much. i think that would be enough.

okay, i think i feel better now. thanks for listening, void jinyoung. i do still miss you, but i'll see you soon enough.

[thetulipinacup]

i can feel the strain of the internet on my brain. i exhaust my body and push myself to the limit without actually accomplishing anything but to scroll. i can't learn i can't comprehend and i keep forgetting things i used to easily remember. i don't remember faces and cheat on every exam. i am in a constant fog and keep telling myself i will catch up one day but I'm afraid 8+ years of this have done their full damage. 

i made a deal with the universe that i would be a good kid and stay out of trouble if they gave me people who understood me. i got my wish but they are all through a screen on platforms scientifically proven to cause all these same issues I'm clearly suffering from. if i cut myself off i might have a chance at a happier life but i will just be alone again. 

even as i write this i have a video in the background of two idiots talking about nothing just for the sake of noise. i closed my notes app 4 times on reflex to open twitter. there have been dozens of times where i tell myself to stop and close the tab on my laptop only to realize I've typed it again reflexively. this summer marks 10 years since i first made an account. 

i want to be a human being again. i want to draw and read and think and talk to people without it feeling like my world is ending. i want to sit down to do something and actually complete it. i took 8 months off of school for this exact purpose and did nothing with it. i have one year left of school in my dream career field and have no idea what i have learned. i feel like i've let the younger me who did all these things on reflex and dreamed of being in my position one day down in an unforgivable way. there is no one i can say these things out loud to because it is impossible to for them to comprehend, they've lived a completely different life in a different era. 

i used to go to therapy (online). i tried to express the devastation i felt at an online "friend" deactivating with no other form of contact. i didn't even know her last time to find her. she tried very hard to do her job and validate me but clearly did not understand what i was talking about and why it would affect me so badly. why does something so common in this era feel so humiliating to admit? it's not our fault, we are victims of circumstance and billions of dollars in algorithm development and yet admitting it feels like defeat. i look at my ipad baby cousins in horror and say i will never do that to my children but what is the difference? i have been exhibiting the same behaviors for longer than they have been alive. but no, that can't be me. i am smart and have good taste and see through it all, i could never fall victim in the same way as everyone else. and yet here i am 

[hhappylliving]

When we moved my grandma from her house into a senior living apartment complex we were basically asked if there were things we wanted. I only wanted something like a plant. My grandma always had little house plants sitting in every single windowsill.

I have had this houseplant since 2017. She had this houseplant before then.

When it got scales I spent HOURS cleaning the plant, finding good places to cut from to form new healthy plants spent hours working on those keeping them clean. The OG granny plant was too far gone with scales, and I had little versions.

Then I was traveling early 2020? and spent like 3 weeks away from my plants? My roommate had decided they were going to go live with her boyfriends mom- I don't know. Sometime in that apartment my plants ended up not doing great.

When I moved into my last apartment, they continued to not do hot. The sun wasn't strong enough on our side of the building.

When I moved into my sister's house for a few months they THRIVED in a water glass. I should've planted them in a pot then as they had LONG healthy roots. But I didn't. I wasnt getting sleep, keeping myself sane and taking care of my pets were my priority. They suffered. I didn't take them to my parents with me because I thought they had enough water for how long I was going- but I ended up staying here longer than expected and they were over watered [my sweet baby niece was the water-er of the plants, I'm thankful she saw my plants were low and gave them water].

As I've been at my parents house, they've not done great. I should've planted them in dirt in Aug/Sept. It's too dark in Michigan, like even when the sun is out, it's not bright enough here.

Now, April, I have even fewer plants and I think they're all at the brink of dying.

This is just one of those things where I feel like - genuinely - adhd is at play. Because I have soil. I have the pot they would go into. Why haven't I planted them this whole time? I'm down to 2 long very thin scraggly looking strands, 1 small strand that is half dead that I'm trying to keep the little roots poking up near the leaves wet so hopefully they can grow? And a tiny stem of leaves.

I love my granny plant. Obviously. I've spent so much time and care into keeping her alive. And yet here we are now. 🙃

Im afraid to put her into soil right now because I feel like it would be too dry? I don't know. But I also feel like me not doing anything is killing her.

I just needed to get my plants thoughts out of my brain. I don't kill plants. I had an orchid for years that ended up dying when I was going my travel stuff [idk how that thing stayed alive for years- orchids are funny].

I feel like I was filling my cup with plants when I lived alone. And then I got pets and the world shut down. And then I lived with people in spaces that are much, much bigger than what I've been used to in my apartment living, and caring for my plants got harder.

[multifandomfanfiction]

I'm the Problem, It's Me

TITLE: I'm the Problem, It's Me PAIRING: Bob/OC RATING: T CHAPTER: One-shot SUMMARY: Storm has trouble with relationships and thinks maybe she’s the problem.

[A/N - I've finally written a fic based on "Anti-Hero" by Taylor Swift. Still trying to get out of my writing slump. I blame starting a new job.]

Storm had never been in a serious relationship. Sure, she’d had boyfriends here and there, but never a serious one.

They usually dumped her after two months or so for whatever reason.

She knew she could be annoying and clingy at times and she never stopped talking. She talked so much that the Dagger Squad joked that she should have been called “Motor-Mouth” instead of “Storm”.

During the day, she was a bubbly out-going person.

At night, it was like a flip got switched. She became introspective and quiet, often staying up past midnight. Her mind going a million miles an hour thinking about the past or people she no longer talked to.

On the nights, she did sleep she woke up with nightmares. She’d woken up Bob, Hangman, and even Rooster screaming in her sleep. Whenever she awoke, she never wanted to talk about it.

But luckily they knew. They knew it had to do with the special mission they’d carried out two months ago. They themselves suffered from nightmares.

Bob, about dying on the mission.

Rooster, about the death of his father and crashing his plane.

Hangman, about losing his team members.

On the nights where none of them slept, they would hang out in the rec room and just talk or watch movies.

Storm, who had been alone for a lot of her life, was glad to not be alone anymore.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

On days when they weren’t in the air, the team liked to spend their time at the beach. It was a good way to de-stress and it helped them blow off some steam. Most of the time, Maverick joined them if he wasn’t too busy with Penny.

Storm and Bob were the only two who didn’t strip down or wear swimsuits.

Bob didn’t feel the need to show off and Storm was uncomfortable showing so much skin. She often felt like she didn’t fit in with the rest of the team. All of them were Adonis’ and Goddess’ and she was just Storm. Awkward, weird, Storm.

The squad split up into two teams and started a game of Dogfight football.

Storm sat on the sidelines claiming the teams would be uneven if she played. No one bothered her or begged her to play with them.

Sometimes Storm felt like she was invisible.

Bob was the only one who wanted to ask her to play with them. Bob stared at her until he got hit in the head with a football.

“Bob! Come on!” Rooster yelled.

Bob looked at her a moment longer before rejoining the game.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

That night, they went to the Hard Deck after cleaning up from their day at the beach.

Rooster and Hangman started a game of pool while Phoenix, Coyote, Fanboy, and Payback watched.

Bob left the group to get another cup of peanuts from Penny. When he came back, he noticed that Storm was missing. He glanced outside and saw her sitting on the beach. He slipped out the back door and joined her.

“Peanut for your thoughts?” Bob asked, offering her his cup.

Storm chuckled and took a handful. “Just thinking.”

“About what?”

“I think I’m the problem,” she said.

“What?”

“I think I’m the reason most people don’t like me.”

Bob looked at her like she was insane. Where was this coming from? “What?”

She shrugged. “Maybe it’s me. I know I can be a lot to deal with…”

“Who told you that?”

Storm looked at him. “Everyone. Even my parents. People just seem so exhausted and tired after interacting with me. Even some of our team.”

Bob was quiet for a moment. “I don’t think you’re a lot to deal with.”

“…Really?”

“Yeah. I think you’re one the nicest girls I’ve ever met. You don’t tease me or make me feel invisible.”

“You don’t make me feel invisible either. Sometimes I feel like you’re the only person who sees me.”

Bob looked down and blushed.

“You’ll make someone very happy one day,” Storm told him.

“And what I want to make you happy?”

Storm blushed this time. “You do make me happy. Did you maybe…want to make each other happy?”

Most people wouldn’t know what Storm was talking about, but Bob did. It was her own awkward, weird, and unique way of asking him out.

Bob nodded. “I think we can do that.”

Storm smiled. “Okay. Great.”

Maybe Storm wasn’t the problem after all.

Maybe it was everyone else.

Top Gun Taglist: @maverick-wingman @thescarletknight2014

Lewis Pullman Taglist: @tallrock35 @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @luckyladycreator2 @justanothermagicalsara @anotherr-fine-mess @airedale17 @xcastawayherosx @khaylin27

[raggaraddy]

Mouthy

Prompt: You say to Yandere BTS "Oh my god! Just shut up!"

A/N: Couldn't sleep, so I wrote this laying in bed. I hope it's not some sleep-deprived nonsense ^-^

Trigger warning: Yandere themes, violence, emotional manipulation, choking, non-con, D/s themes, examples of a bad D/s dynamic.

Alpha! Namjoon

"Oh my god! Just shut up!" You scream it through your bedroom doorway. Storming to the railing of the stairs, you lean over and scream again. "Shut up!"

The sea of people on the ground floor go quiet. Only the music dares to keep making a sound in the background. You skulk back to your room, slamming the door loudly behind you. You had had a long, disappointing day. You were tired and grumpy, and moody and sad. But the dozens of uninvited pack members couldn't care less as their party raged on into the night.

Not allowing you enough time to even climb back into bed, Namjoon storms after you to address your outburst.

"Y/n, go downstairs right now and apologize." He orders.

"No." you mope. Feeling it's a wildly unfair request. All these people are in your house making so much noise when you're trying to sleep. How is it you that's in the wrong?

"Do you think I am asking you? I'm telling you. Get downstairs now." He says sternly. His strict tone making you even more emotional. You just wanted him to be on your side for this.

"But- But I," you sniffle, with tears in your eyes.

"No," Namjoon cuts you off. "I've asked you all afternoon what's wrong. And you wouldn't tell me. So right at this moment, I don't want to hear it. You have been disrespectful to me and my people. So you are going to put some more clothes on and cover-up, and you will go out there and apologize to every single person." He growls, leaving no room to argue. "And you will do it sincerely, or I will give you something to cry about."

King! Seokjin

You didn't say it to his face. You would never be that stupid. But still, you clearly weren't smart enough. While gossiping to a friend, someone you thought was a confidant, you're complaining about a seemingly endless, boring meeting you had to serve today.

"And I just wanted to tell all of them; Oh my god! Just shut up!" You laugh. 

But hours later it's no longer a laughing matter.

"How did you enjoy serving me today, Princess?" Jin asks his tone giving nothing away of what he already knows.

"I enjoyed it. Thank you, your Majesty" You politely smile, thinking his question to be a kindness.

"I often find these meetings so dull. Many of the Lords do like to ramble on. Sometimes I would enjoy telling all of them to just shut up." He speaks the words so purposefully that you know at once you've been exposed.

"My Lord, I-"

"If you are smart you will not say another word." He speaks softly, with a grin on his face. "I want to thank you, Y/n.  I have an endless supply of other people I can hurt. Each one of them is freely at my disposal, but you are my favourite toy." He fills the space in front of you. "However, I am a man of my word. I swore to you that you will be unharmed if you are obedient, and I would not dare to break this vow. Of course, I have sorely missed playing with my beloved little dol, though."

Towering over you he sets off your instinct to get to your knees and grovel, begging his forgiveness for your carelessness. But that would only be a wasted effort.

"So thank you, Princess, for giving me the possibility to hear your pretty cries of pain again. I will make sure to use this opportunity to its fullest."

Assassin! Yoongi

He had been in a hyper mood for 2 days straight. His energy and enthusiastic interaction was something you always craved, but you had never dealt with it this long before and you were losing your sanity and your composure.

"Oh my god! Just shut up!" You shout at him as your last nerve snaps.

"Okay, Y/n." He gives little to no reaction. "Remember you said this in a month from now when you're begging me to speak to you."

But it didn't take a month. In two weeks you were in tears apologizing. He left you free to roam the house, but he revoked all communication from you. The only times he gave you any attention, was when he forcibly made you stop doing something he didn't like. Or when he wanted you for sex. But still, he wouldn't utter a single word, only bending you over to take what he wanted.

After 5 weeks, just as you thought you'd never hear his voice again, he finally broke his silence. Only to break your heart.

"Listening to you these past few weeks, I realise how much you talk. It's time you take your own advice and shut up. Y/n, I don't want to hear a sound out of you until I say. 5 weeks was easy enough for me. So let's start with that, and then I'll see if I want to hear from you yet."

Vampire! Hoseok

Hoseok was always so animated. Normally it didn't bother you, but he was talking and reacting through yet another movie and you were sick of it. It might have been because you were PMSing or maybe because Hoseok had forgotten to feed you all day, but when he yelled at the TV, you yelled at him.

"Oh my god! Just shut up!" And right away you were teeming with regret.

"I'm sorry baby. Am I being too loud?" He laughs with an unexpectedly harmless reply. Playfully but roughly slapping his hand on your thigh. "I'll keep it down."

You're not dumb enough to think that your eruption would go unanswered. So you sit tensely, anxiously waiting to see how he will repay you.

"Baby," he whispers in your ear, after sitting in silence for 20 minutes. "You know I have very strong hearing right?" You nod nervously. Chewing your lip. "Well, your breathing is too loud and very distracting. I can hardly hear the movie. Can you please fix that?"

You know this is going to lead to something horrible, but you have no choice but to do as he says. For the next 10 minutes, you're completely distracted trying to inhale and exhale as softly and shallowly as possible.

"Hmm baby, it's really too much. I can't concentrate on the film." He stands, pulling his belt off. "Here let me help you."

He wraps his belt around your neck, pulling and setting it so tight that it's biting into your skin. Your throat constricting, barely letting you breathe.

As you wheeze and splutter and cough, he holds the end like a leash. Sitting back on the couch, he turns his focus back to the movie without letting you loosen the strap or get away. Your whole body is shaking, your eyes starting to roll back as you struggle to inhale. The belt is cruelly not tight enough to have you pass out though. Only allowing you to sit in your suffering. The sound of your gasping filling the room.

"Ahh, there you go baby. That's much better. Don't worry, it's just while we're watching movies. And there's only two more left in the trilogy."

Playboy! Jimin

He was telling you over and over how sorry he was. How he didn't mean to kiss that girl. That he was drinking. And that she kissed him. It was every excuse and lie he had spouted 100 times before.

"Oh my god! Just shut up!" You yelled at him. And for a moment it worked. He sat in stunned silence. But as you got off the bed to leave, taking your car keys with you, he chased after you.

"Where are you going?"

"Out Jimin. I need some time alone to think." You scowl.

But he refuses, blocking the door. Holding his arms to either side to barricade you in.

"No, you can't leave! I said I'm sorry."

"Fuck off Jimin, your apologies mean nothing." You say shoving him.

He doesn't accept that. With a roar, he grabs your shoulders throwing you down onto the bed. Quickly straddling you, using far too much force to keep you pinned beneath him. Tearing off the pillowcases, he makes some shoddy but effective restraints. Tying you to the bars on the headboard.

Ignoring your screams and how you struggle he starts to kiss down your neck, pulling at your clothes, rubbing his hands down your body.

"I'm gonna make you feel good Y/n. I'll show you that I only want you, then you'll have to forgive me." He says sounding desperate and unhinged.

You cry and yell for him to stop, trying to buck him off you, but his hand covers your mouth, his other successfully tearing down your panties from under your dress.

"Don't fight me, Angel. Just let me in. And I'll prove I love you the most."

Dom! Taehyung

Finally, Taehyung had agreed to spend some time with you in a social environment. He and you went out to a movie and dinner with some of your friends. They were vanilla friends though, so as an exception, for the day he loosened a lot of the restrictions and formalities you normally had in place.

You, however, you were getting a little too relaxed. While you joked with you're friends, you started to speak to him the same manner. As you and he were playfully arguing about trivia facts you realized you were losing the debate.

"Oh my god! Just shut up!" You joke. But in the company of your friends or not, Taehyung was not about to let you disrespect him. Even in jest.

"Is that how you should talk to me girl?" He asks loudly and in front of everyone, bringing the group conversation to a grinding halt.

His change in tone and his use of the possessive pet name, right away have you back in your place.

"No," you whisper. The sting of embarrassment hot upon your cheeks.

"No, what?" He pushes it.

You can't stand to look up. All of the attention is on the two of you. And even in your peripheral, you can see your friends looking at you judgementally, wide-eyed and in shock.

And he was making it worse by having you use his title around them.

"No, Sir." you surrender, your head hung low.

"Shouldn't you also apologise to the other people at the table? For interrupting our night with your rudeness." He keeps piling on one shame after the other. Stretching out the ordeal.

"No, it's fine." One of your friends tries to laugh off the awkwardness and speed the discussion away from this point. "She doesn't have to."

"Y/n," He prompts you, disregarding what your friend had said.

Thoroughly humiliated, you can't imagine how you are going to repair these relationships or explain this treatment away.

"I'm sorry for interrupting the night with my rudeness." you swallow heavily, hands shaking.

"Good girl. Now mind your mouth. Before you make me embarrass you further."

Mafia! Jungkook

"Oh my god! Just shut up!" you say in a hushed voice. More of a prayer said to yourself than an actual demand you expected Jungkook to hear.

"What did you just say to me?" he lowers the phone, gawking at you.

You really didn't mean to, it just slipped out. He was talking on the phone, going into too graphic detail about how he and his men dealt with a threat recently. You couldn't handle the gruesome details he was recanting anymore and the words just fell out.

"What did you just say? Did you just tell me to shut up?" He repeats again through your nonreply. His tongue running through the inside of his cheek, his jaw and muscles tensing. His voice jumping rapidly from stunned to aggressive.

You're at home alone with him, so you weren't paying much mind to what you were saying. But this afternoon he's been dealing with work. And right now he isn't Kookie, no the person in front of you is Jeon Jungkook. The temperamental Mafia head, who would as likely hit you as he would speak to you.

"I'm sorry," you squeak.

"You're sorry?" He scoffs, slamming the phone down. "If you had said it and meant it, that would be one thing. I could respect that. But you really just can't control your stupid little mouth can you."

"I-" you start a defence, or more a plea for mercy.

"Shut the fuck up!" He growls leaning forward in his seat making you flinch back. Darting his hand out he grabs you by the hair, pulling you back to where you were. "Don't flinch. I'm not gonna hurt you, I'm gonna help you." He smiles.

You wriggle in his clutches, mewling the same trifle apologies under your breath.

"Shhh, my brainless little Kitten. I'm gonna give you a gift." He smirks. "For your own safety, you don't need to talk for the rest of the day. I just need you to come when I call. Sit on my lap when I tell you. And purr for me like a good little pussy." Grabbing your arm harshly, he yanks you off your chair and onto the ground. "There you go, where you belong." He laughs. "You think you can remember to do all that? I know you can. Otherwise, I'll buy you a kat collar to remind you how my Kitten should behave."

[xneens]

i do

Warning: language, major character death, violence, angst

Word count: 3.4k

Summary: Soulmate AU where the last words you will ever hear from your soulmate is written on your wrist so you won't know it's them until you've lost them.

Staring at the words on your wrist, you held back another sigh, tracing the black ink with your finger, dread and sadness washing over you. You shuddered at the words, unable to rid of the lump in your throat.

I do.

Born with the words on your wrist, no one knew when they would meet their soulmates, unknown to who your other half was until they died. It was cruel, knowing the last thing they'll say to you would cause you immense pain. Horror stories stemmed from the agonies of other's pain, movies made out of the tales that would become famous.

Some, those who were protective of their hearts, buried themselves away from others, but fate always led them to their soulmate. No matter how short the time would be stretching from the duration of your life to a single second before you'd lose them. The best outcome to happen was when two lovers let go, and spend their lives together, to die at when they were to, finding out they had spent their lives with their one and only. That possibility was becoming more and more realistic with modern technology and wishful thinking.

Yet, there was some tragedies. The unfortunate ones would have their sentences written on their wrist, knowing they'd only know their soulmate for a short time, or not at all. “It's nice to meet you.” "What's your name?" "Can I get your number?" "Sounds like a date." Not knowing them at all was, to most, was worse than to know them at all.

A few rare situations when your soulmate would die young. Parents told horror stories, reading the words off their kid's wrist. "We're playing dodgeball in gym!" "I didn't do my math homework." "You can come to my birthday party. I'm turning seven next week!"

Then there were the most terrifying stories. They were the ones turned into thrillers, a real life story turned into a disrespectful horror movie. They'd lose each other, aware there was nothing they could do. "I thought you locked the door." "I don't think we're alone." "Behind you!" "Someone's in the house."

Thankful none of the situations applied to you, you still couldn't get the words branded in your wrist out of your head. It lingered, whispering the last words before your heart would be torn, only healed when death came for you. Some looked on the positive side, knowing meeting their soulmate was inevitable.

Natasha broke you out of your reverie as she tackled you down on the mat, leaving you breathless at the sudden attack, confused to how you've become acquaintances with the ground. You spit your hair out, grimacing in disgust as a few strays stuck to your lips. With your hands tied behind your back, and crushed against the former assassin's body, you turned your attention on her smug smile, glaring daggers.

"Okay, get off before Tony pictures us scissoring again." you grunted, too tired to push her off of you. Natasha laughed, letting your wrists go as she shifted her weight off of you, sitting next to you on the thick mat. You rolled onto your back, closing your eyes in exhaustion. "That was unnecessary, Nat."

Spending the day at the gym with Natasha seemed like a good idea after being beaten by Clint the day before. You knew you were getting rusty, without all the life threatening missions and people to save, your skills wasn't needed. Besides, you loved yourself too much for Steve to convince you to join him on his suicide runs. He woke up before the sun rose, and it only took a few runs to realize that even you couldn't keep up with his fast pace. ("Although, I would love to see his fast pace in the bedroom. Ow, Sam!")

After tying the score—despite the lack of training, you and Natasha still tied when it came to hand to hand combat—you had sat down on the bench, which was now sweaty, and sulked, sighing over the words written on your wrist.

Natasha rolled her eyes, leaning on her elbows as she eyed your expression, eyes narrowing when you didn't return her smile. "What's with the sad face? Are you thinking about your soulmate mark again?"

"You know I only allow myself to think about it once every other month." you replied. Natasha made a noise in respond but you ignored it. "Shut up, I know I'm pathetic. No need to voice your opinions."

"You're not pathetic, just compassionate." she whispered, her eyes sparkling with remembrance. Natasha had lost her soulmate on a mission a few years before the Avengers were formed, but it didn't stop her from living her life. You hoped you could follow her path when the horrid time came. "Out of curiosity, if you had to guess, do you think you've met your soulmate by now?"

You've given it much thought, coming up with a good theory that even Tony Stark would be impressed by. Of course, you didn't share it with anyone, giving Nat the simplified version of it. "With the amount of people I've met, I like to think so."

The playful smirk returned to her lips, a wiggle of her eyebrows as she digested your words. "And do you think a certain blond, big-hearted, super soldier might be it?"

You reached for the nearest water bottle, throwing it at her only to have it hit the wall behind her as she dodged it. Natasha laughed, putting distance between you, sensing an attack. You scowled at her but it lacked real annoyance. "Oh my, God. I have, like, the smallest crush on him and you're already planning our children's proms."

"I'm thinking: under the sea." Natasha joked, grinning when the corner of your lips curled up. The both of you burst out laughing, thinking about Natasha in a ridiculous kid-friendly dress as she chaperoned yours and Steve's future offsprings.

As if summoned, Steve chose that moment to enter the training room, freezing in his tracks when he saw you and Natasha cackling. His expression made Natasha double back into another round of laughter while yours subsided in giggles. Steve cleared his throat, looking down as a slight blush decorated his face.

He murmured your name, walking up towards you, his blue eyes eyeing the ground with too much interest. "Did you hear about the party Tony is making all of us go to?"

Natasha stopped laughing immediately, jaw clenching at Tony's betrayal. They had a truce where Natasha would stop hacking into his system to play Spice Girls—with the help of Bruce, of course—and Tony was to stop throwing parties every month. It's been three months since the last party, the one where Natasha has almost killed the billionaire. Tony couldn't hold off any longer. She stood. "I'm going to kill him."

Before either of you could get a word in, Natasha was already out the door, her stance deadly as Tony Stark awaited his death. The door slammed close behind her as Steve sat down beside you on the mat, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

You admired his ruffled hair, blond strands hanging down on his forehead. You had mentioned to him that he looked sexier with his long hair, and it seemed like he was following your advice. Dressed in a simple black t-shirt and gray sweatpants, Steve Rogers was every girl's waking fantasy. It truly was unfair how good he could look in sweats.

"Hey." you greeted, smiling sweetly at him. Being happy around Steve was as easy as giving Pepper Potts presents. He returned the smile, grinning from ear to ear as he looked away, his cheeks reddening even more. "What can I do for you, Stevie?"

"Thor wanted to have some kind of Asgardian contest that may or may not level the top floor. I thought you might want to do something else, have a peaceful night instead of risking our lives to one of Thor's games?" he asked sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Not letting excitement cloud your senses, you grew cautious, eyes narrowing as you looked around the room, trying to search for a hidden camera that would allow Tony to get you back from ruining his thousand-dollar crocs. Steve Rogers was not asking you out in no way.

Steve saw your expression, quickly backing off. "Only if you want to. I'm sure you missed Thor and all. It's okay, I can suffer a few third degree burns—"

"No!" you shouted, making Steve flinch at the suddenness. You cleared your throat, cheeks heating up. "Uh, I mean, yeah. I wouldn't mind missing the party. Where did you plan on going?"

Slightly surprised, a smile crept on his lips. He ran a hand across his face to hide the cheeky grin. "Wherever you want to go."

You threw him a smile, unhealthily giddy. If Clint were here to comment, he'd compare you to a happy school girl with a massive crush. "Oh. Okay."

A voice interrupted the short silence, scaring both you and Steve. You suspected the AI, Friday, had been invested in your conversation. "If I may make a suggestion, I advise you both to leave sometime in the next hour before Mr. Stark ropes you in. I'm inclined to think Mr. Stark won't be above blackmail."

"Thank you, Friday." you murmured. The AI said it's goodbye, far too amused for your liking.

Steve got up, offering his hand for you. Both of you were smiling like idiots, cheeks hurting from the too-big smiles that adorned your faces. You had a suspicion you somewhat embodied a clown. The super-solider kept his hand wrapped around yours. "Would you like to leave at this moment, or get changed?"

You shook your head, liking the warmth of his touch. "I'm good. Let's leave."

Steve Rogers was a gentleman, that was confirmed by his acts and the influence of being raised right. Despite that fact, he was a savage in the bedroom. Or half the time, out of the bedroom. You had been surprised, yet pleased, when you fell into his bed halfway through the second unofficial date. After that night, Steve finally built the courage to ask you to be his girlfriend—a term he found silly but otherwise a happy milestone.

After years of being friends, Steve was ready to begin the rest of your lives together. No one was surprised, besides you, that he had proposed three months after the first official date. Being head over heels, you excitedly agreed, only to blanch when Tony started a petition to let him plan the wedding with you. Pepper had stopped him.

No one knew what happened the night of Thor's and Tony's party. Though, Steve made a smart choice to ditch it when you both found a floor of the tower littered with blackened metals and slightly burnt walls. The team wouldn't speak of the incident, not that neither you or Steve cared. You had both been too jubilant to interrogate them.

The wedding day came. Steve had been stopped by Thor, failing to sneak into the room you were in. No matter how strong he was, Thor wouldn't allow any bad luck to happen especially after you had lied to him about naming your firstborn after him. Steve tried, and failed, to tell him you weren't going to name his son after the God of Thunder. Bucky was too busy arguing with Sam about the flower decoration to help out Thor.

Dressed in the lavender bridesmaid dress, Natasha burst into the room, a smile adorning her face. She had thanked you multiple times for not dressing her in those ugly dresses she had seen on Pinterest. "You getting cold feet yet?"

"Mine are toasty warm." you mumbled, hands trembling at the thought of declaring your love in front of a crowd. You wondered if it was too late to get ear plugs so no one would hear all the gooey, cheesy vows you would utter to Steve.

"Very convincing." Natasha teased, taking a shot of the wine laid out on the table. Placing the flute down, she eyed the door, prepared to attack Steve if he managed to get away from Thor. "Alright, what're you worried about?"

You bit your lip, messing up the fresh layer of lip gloss Pepper had put on. Glancing out the window, you saw the crowd settling down in there chairs. The anxiety built up inside you. "Um, falling down the aisle. Accidentally saying the wrong name. Messing up in my vows. Dying of embarrassment."

"You'll be great, I promise. No one's going to die. You won't trip because Tony wouldn't let you. You won't say the wrong name because Steve's is practically implanted in your brain and you'll be too busy staring into his ocean blue eyes that you won't mess up. Now, are you still worried?" she asked, laughing when you managed to trip over your wedding dress.

"If anything, Tony's going to purposely trip me." you muttered, tempted to take a swig of some liquid courage, but the fetus in you held you back. The ceremony would start soon, and being too nervous, you hadn't eaten any breakfast. It was probably a good thing considering the nausea you were feeling. Why call it morning sickness when it didn't happen in the morning?

"You're being paranoid, everything will be great." she sighed, turning to the window, staring directly at the green hybrid. The Bruce and Natasha thing was unsurprising but kind of weird, especially with the whole sex thing. You had gagged at the thought of Bruce trying to fit inside of Natasha, and stopped altogether. "I'll be right back, I gotta do something."

She left the room before you could address her, groaning when she left a tiny crack in the door. Natasha knew how much it annoyed you when people left the door open when you originally had it closed. Heaving a sigh, you went to close the door, only to be met by a small force. Steve stuck his head through opening, his worried frown turning into a dazzling grin as he spotted you.

Without a word, he took you in his arms, his hand cupping your cheek as he pressed a quick kiss on your lips. You smiled into the kiss, closing the door behind him as your arms wrapped around his neck.

You pulled away, wiping the lip gloss smeared across his lips. Steve did the same, smirking at his handy work. "Hello, Mrs. Rogers. How do you feel?"

"Like I want to tangle myself around you in every way possible." you whispered, pressing another kiss to his lips. Steve chuckled, his thumb drawing small circles on your back. "How about you, Husband?"

"I've been waiting for this day for a very long time. You can't imagine how jovial I am." said Steve. He gave your nose a quick peck, and you giggled. "I know it's suppose to be bad luck to see the bride before the ceremony but I couldn't bear it."

Giggling, you pulled him closer, your lips meeting his neck as you sucked softly at the sensitive skin. "Hmm, I can't wait until I'm officially yours. Do you think we have time for a quickie? It'd really help with my wedding nerves."

Steve laughed, but the sound came out a little breathless. Even with the thickness of the wedding gown, you could feel him on your hip, smirking when he shifted. "While that's a very tempting offer, both Natasha and Pepper would kill me for ripping apart this beautiful dress."

"But Steve—" your whine was cut off by Natasha pulling Steve out of your arms.

The redhead glared at him, pushing him towards the opened door. "You, out, now."

"I'll see you—" Steve began to say, only to be cut off when the door slammed in his face. Natasha turned to turn her death stare on you.

"Look at your makeup. I can't believe he snuck in here with Thor on his ass." Natasha complained, pushing you towards the vanity, quickly applying the tube of lip gloss on your lips. You blinked back the tears as she practically poke your eye with the mascara wand, trying to fix Steve's touch on your slightly smeared mascara. "You look like you're going to puke."

You shook your head, taking a deep breath. "I'm good. Where's Tony?"

"Right here." he answered, entering with a velvet box in his hand. The billionaire set it down on the vanity before eyeing your stance. "Wow, you look ..."

"Like I'm gonna throw up all over Steve's suit?" you finished, panic rising.

"I was going to say gorgeous but now that you mention it, you do look a little green." he teased, earning himself a nudge from Natasha. Tony rubbed his ribs. "If you want to ditch, I have the car running in case you want to make a quick getaway."

You rolled your eyes, wishing you hadn't let him talk you into such a big wedding. All you wished at the moment was to take Steve with you and elope. "Thanks for the offer but I'm good. Let's get this over with."

"And here I thought you weren't romantic." Tony joked, handing you the bouquet of flowers.

Natasha checked her watch, the music audible. Morgan, the flower girl was already walking down the aisle along with Pepper's nephew on her heels. The former assassin opened the door, grinning. "Wait a few seconds before you follow me."

And with that, she walked down the short hall before stepping outside, the aisle was cleared by flowers adorning the sides. Weeping willow branches hung down from the huge tree, creating an illusion of fantasy, the little arch at the end of the aisle was created of leaves and even more colorful flowers. You were surprised no one was sneezing with the amount of pollen.

You took Tony's arm, taking another deep breath. Looking at him, you swore he was a bit proud. He smiled at you. "I hope you know I take full credit for the union of your two souls."

Ignoring his mini jab, you raised an eyebrow. "And how so?"

"There was never a party." he informed, grinning cheekily. He pulled you towards the opened door, walking down the hall. "I made it all up so Rogers would get the balls to finally ask you out."

"Then what the hell happened to the tower?" you asked, confused. People were beginning to stand but your curiosity became more important than your nerves.

Tony winked. "That's for me to know, and for you to dot dot dot."

"God, you're such a nerd." you mumbled, turning your attention ahead as your feet hit the white carpet that moonlighted as the aisle. The nerves began to bubble, and you gripped his arm tighter in fear of falling face first.

The ceremony was a blur, Steve just as nervous as you had been, becoming more and more braver as he spoke his vows. By the end of it, you could barely see him through the tears brimming your eyes. If it wasn't for the waterproof makeup, you were sure you would've cried your face off.

You had just finished your vows when the priest had asked if you would gladly wed the man in front of you for the rest of forever. You whispered a soft "I do."

The priest turned to Steve, the super-soldier happy beyond belief. He asked him the previous question he had asked you. Yet, Steve, being eager, had almost cut him off near the end.

His eyes bored into yours, filled with love and warmth. "I do."

Then everything turned black.

You awoke in the Medbay, needles puncturing your arm, a tube tied to your nose. Every single inch of your skin hurt, your eyelids heavy as you opened your eyes, only to close them once again when the bright fluorescents shone. You felt someone squeeze your hand, a finger brushing along your wrist.

Turning your head, you glance at the person, finding out it was Tony. While he was relieved you were awake, something in his eyes made you believe he wished he had more time to prepare you for the worst. At the moment he uttered those words, you wished your ears had been damaged in whatever hell Hydra had dropped on your wedding.

"Steve's dead."

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

Together

Pairing: Billy Hargrove X Reader

Word count: 1.4 K

Requested by anon: Hey! I see your requests are open and you write for Billy Hargrove. I've just recently had a miscarriage, and it's been seriously difficult to cope with. I was wondering if you could write something with Billy reacting to the reader having a miscarriage, and just super soft/understanding Billy making sure the reader knows she's still loved and he's not going anywhere. Soft Billy for his girl protecting her from the world. Thank you!

Summary: You had a miscarriage, and you're scared to tell Billy.

{Stranger Things Masterlist}

×

The house is silent. And terribly cold.

You've been sitting on the floor for... Seconds? Hours? Maybe even days. Time is just a blur, as is the wall across from you. And your heart is scattered around this bedroom floor, crushed into pieces.

The smell of blood is making you sick.

Your hands are covered in it, but your inner thighs are worse.

Still, you can't move.

But maybe you should. Maybe staying still isn't the right thing right now. You should pack your things and leave. Leave before he comes back.

Billy rescued you. You were both young when it happened, only something about six months after eighteen. You both lived in a nightmare, and while he got out, you were still stuck. Your parents said you'd only get to go anywhere else when you found yourself a husband.

So Billy gave them exactly what they wanted.

He took you to Indianapolis, in his Camaro, where you got married.

Then you only got back home to show your parents the papers. After that, you were off, never looking back.

You and Billy found good jobs, and rent a nice house in California. Life was amazing until it happened. Until your period was late and you bought a pregnancy test.

That was when you finally understood how much Billy wanted kids. He wants to be different from his father. He wants to love and care for them and protect them...

And you're young and healthy. What could go wrong?

Looking down at your lap, at your ruined light green dress, thighs, and hands, you don't even feel the tears rolling down anymore. Or the cold, or the floor underneath you.

You're numb. Lost. Broken. Destroyed.

You should leave.

Billy has suffered enough, and he wanted this baby so much. You can't believe you'll hurt him like this. You promised you'd never hurt him. Now, look at you.

But you can't quite understand what happened. You did everything right. You visited the doctors, you changed your diet, everything. You did everything right.

A noise makes your heart beat faster.

Billy went to the market to buy something you can't remember.

But you're not ready yet.

You can't face him yet. Maybe never again.

So you move like a lightning bolt, crawling to the door, locking it before returning to your corner between the toilet and the cabinet.

Hugging your knees, you cry as you hear the footsteps. You should've left.

“(Y/N)?” He calls, and you hold your breath as if it could make you disappear. “I got the brownies you were craving for.”

“T-thanks.” You mutter, trying your best to sound normal. But the moment you speak, you know you failed.

“(Y/N), what happened?” His voice already changed, heavy with worry. Soon enough, he's knocking on the door.

“I-I'm alright. I'll... I'll be o-out in a minute.” Looking around, at all the blood, you bite back a sob. You don't know what to do. How to clean yourself. You don't even know if you can't get up.

“(Y/N), you're scaring me. Open up.” He asks, turning the handle.

“I-I'm alright, Billy. Just... Just g-give me some time.” Then, you break down, tears rolling down and sobs bursting out. “Just leave me be! Just leave me the hell alone!”

“Alright.”

You have no time for relief, because on the next moment the door is knocked open, and Billy comes in.

And the look on his face when he finds you, a broken mess, covered in blood on the bedroom floor destroys whatever's left of you.

“Go away, Billy!” You yell, voice cracking as you pull your legs closer to your chest, trying to disappear. “Please, please.”

With your eyes tightly close, you sob, pulling the skirts of the dress to cover up your legs and the blood.

After some seconds of silence, you're sure he left, but suddenly, an arm is pulling you. And you're too weak to resist, so you just move, almost involuntary, arms finding their way around his neck. You can feel he's crying too, sobs shaking his body.

“I-I'm sorry. I lost the baby. I lost our baby.” You stutter, pushing him away. “I'm so sorry, I... I don't know what happened, I don't know what I did t-to cause it, Billy. I-I know how much you wanted t-this baby, I'm so sorry.” The sobs keep coming, it doesn't matter how hard your try to control them.

Billy cups your face, thumb wiping some tears away, but soon enough more come to replace them. “(Y/N), listen to me now.”

“No, Billy. I-if you want t-to leave me, it's alright.” Taking his hand off your face, you hold it. But then you realize you are covered in blood, so you sob again, letting go. “I know how much you wanted this baby, a-and I know what it means to you to be a father and I'm–”

“My love, don't say that.” He cuts you off, taking your dirty hands on his. “I'm... I'm heartbroken too, but I won't leave you.”

“But–”

“No buts.” He says again, moving to sit against the wall, pulling you closer. “I... I'll forever miss our baby.” There are tears on his face, too many to count. You've never seen Billy cry.

“I-I did everything right. I... I don't know what happened.” You're just repeating yourself now, but what else is there to say? It's not your fault, but you feel like it is. One of the first things you knew about Billy after you started dating, was that he wanted kids. “W-what if I can't give you kids?” And you burst into tears again, shoulders shaking violently. “It's alright i-if you want to leave, Billy. It's alright.”

Billy pulls you to him, so you lay on his chest as he keeps you secure in his arms. “(Y/N), I won't leave you. I love you and you're the only woman I want to have kids with. You will be the mother of my children.”

“But what if–”

“We'll see a doctor. Find out what happened and try again. And if, only if you can't... We'll adopt.” With his index finger under your chin, he makes you look up into his eyes. There's a smile on his lips, it's sad and small, but it warms your heart. “One way or another, we'll have a family. Well, we are a family, you and I.”

“So you're not... Angry at me?” You ask in a low voice, wiping some more tears away.

“Of course not.” His forehead touches yours, and you close your eyes. “I love you. Our loss will be with us forever because this baby is our child. He or she is gone, but they'll be alive in us.”

“How do we move from this?” Grabbing the collar of his jacket, you hide your face on his neck.

“Together, love. We move on together. I don't know when, but as long as I have you, I know things will be ok.”

“I love you, Billy. And I'm so–”

“I wasn't your fault.” Rubbing the small of your back, Billy lightly touches your leg. “Let's hit the shower, I'll help you clean up.”

“Alright.” You whisper, allowing Billy to help you to your feet.

He slowly helps you out of your clothes before taking care of his own. You try not to look down, not wanting to see the blood. But Billy takes care of it, rubbing body wash on your hands and then on your legs until your clean. Then he just holds you, your head on his chest under the warm spray of water.

“I don't know what I'd do without you.” You confess, your voice only a little louder than the water falling so he can hear you.

“You won't ever have to find out, princess. It's you and I, now and forever.” Lifting your face, Bily bends over to place a kiss on your lips. It's wet and passionate, slow and sweet. “Whatever happens, you'll always have me.”

“Thank you, Billy.” Managing to offer him a quick, small smile, you peck his lips. “Can we stay like this a while longer, please?”

“As long as you want.” He assures you, strong arms keeping you close to his body.

The pain is real, and it suffocates both of you. But as you both fall apart, you pick the pieces back up, one by one. And as long as you have him, you know you'll figure things out. And whatever comes next, you'll walk right through it, and you'll overcome.

×

@multific @nope-thanks @nikkixostan @shinydixon

[thecandywrites]

Kinktober Day 30- Restraints

I did it! Finished them all.

However, I have one more. An Ode to Kinktober as a whole that I will be adding and will most likely be a multi-chapter thing. But it will have literally, every single prompt in it, all in one fic. It's going to be EPIC. Hopefully. And there are easter eggs to it that have actually been in a few of the predeceeding prompts. So it'll be fun to see everything come together.

As always I'd like to thank @starsandskies for sharing these amazing prompts with me. I hope it's been fun for everyone to read and it's what I've really needed to get me through everything. Especially since tonight the death toll among my family and friends within the last year officially became double digits. And it will not have been a whole 2 months since the last death in my immediate family. And while some of the deaths were out of the blue, others, tonight's especially has been a very long time coming. And I'm just relieved that they're no longer in pain, or suffering. And can pass as peacefully as humanly possible.

So thank you to everyone who has read, and liked and enjoyed these. Because all of it makes me feel less alone and if I can take my pain and my grief and turn it into something beautiful and something at least enjoyable to read. Then that will be enough.

Thank you. Enjoy.

Kinkitober Day 30- Restraints

“So this is the harness.” Shivahn said as she picked up the heavy gold chained harness that was currently sitting on an iron form to show how it was worn. 

“So who wants to try it on first?” She asked. 

“I do!” You volunteered first before you came forward and she put a silver collar  that went over your own moura collar to pull your wings back into your body but still allowed you to wear only a thin bodysuit to cover your bodies before she put the harness on and clipped it into the collar and adjusted the chains until they were snugly over your body. This thing had to weigh over a hundred pounds. 

“Oh good grief.” You blew out a breath as you had never felt so weak before as you braced your legs so you wouldn’t fall to the ground because you knew if you did, you’d never be able to get up again as your most promising potential mate Emanuel put the other one on and actually did fall back onto his butt and then flat out on his back when it was put on. 

“How the fuck are you still standing Jenimare?” Emanuel asked as the others had to really pull hard to get him back up onto his own two feet before he stumbled down to his knees and then to his chest on the ground. 

“Becuase women are naturally leg strong whereas men are usually chest strong. That’s why most of the kamoba champions are women. Because they can carry the harness better and still fight better and once they learn how to fight and move with it on, and then they find out how to really use the weight to their advantage instead of their hindrance, they’re the first to excel and then never give up that lead. Because remember, during the great hunt it’s our foremothers that were captured and restrained and enslaved first. And this is only a replica of those early restraints. Which is why everyone in Dorierra learns from the age of 3 how to do this. Because now that the Great Hunt is over for the most part, mouras as a species should be more than ready, willing and able to overcome any other thing anyone can ever come up with to try to use against us. And where we start- is at the lowest of the low- humans. Ever since the convergence it has always been humans from earth with their filthy black plague that brought them here to the supersphere- that have used their own minds, cunning, ruthless and mercilessly hunted us the most and for the longest until they finally used our moura gold to buy and build cities and royalties and dynasties of their own here." She sneered rather spitefully.

"But after training, all of you will be able to face anyone from a goblin, orc, rakshasa, elf, even onikuma.” She finished listing off as you all looked at her with wide eyes. Because onikuma were the bear people. Your home colony was near the northern pole. Onikuma were the most common of the other kinds of people who lived in the north pole.

Especially since the southern pole was claimed by the Neveahans even though most who flew over it, never saw much of anything other than snow and ice and glaciers on the small island that was at the absolute center of the pole. The south pole was actually more of a sea surrounded by a ring of islands, all of which the people who called themselves Neveahans called their own. They had brought the most kinds of dragons into the supersphere since the convergence. And so far, any and all dragons were welcome there. And all the surrounding islands had special super electro magnetic properties and would throw off anyone’s compass. And it even messed with a moura’s ability to navigate around it and they had to use solely their sense of sight to follow the southern aurora borealis. Even as downright gorgeously and beautiful and completely unique as it was and as long as mouras flew as high as the southern lights, they were not messed with and were free to follow their ritual of following the lights during the solstice. Or at least, that was what the dragons who were Neveahan who took refuge in the colonies told you and all the mouras who flew in the southern pole when it was the southern colonies turn to host the winter solstice that they volleyed with winter solstice flights between the north pole and the southern pole. 

“Who wants to wear this next?” You asked. 

“I’ll take it.” Aurava volunteered before you were happy to take the restraint off while the instructor moved the collar off of your neck to hers and then moved the restraints from you to her as she didn’t even squat or bat an eye. 

“Holy shit Aurava! You’re a beast!” You crooned at her happily. 

“I carry the twins on each side.” She shrugged nonchalantly since she had a set of boy girl twin younger siblings that probably weighed more than she did when combined before the instructor took the harness off and finally freed Emanuel from the floor by taking the harness and it’s collar off of Emanuel who simply coughed and rolled over before he managed to regain his footing, thanks to you helping him to get back on his feet. 

“You ok?” You asked him. 

“No. Shit, that’s what our foremothers and forefathers endured?” Emanuel rubbed his neck where that silver collar had inhibited his own golden moura one before the leader put both harnesses on Aurava who didn’t even budge just moved the chains to be more evenly worn around her body. 

“Damn.” The others in the class blinked in surprise. 

“Aurava, I’m calling it right now, you’re going to be the competitor to beat. No one has ever worn both harnesses with that much ease before except the native orcs who are used to heavy loads.” The instructor praised. 

“I’m part taunston.” Aurava admitted. 

“Oh, that would explain it then.” She nodded in understanding even though she didn’t look that taunston, but she and her family were always very strong period.

Class began and Aurava sat front and center of the class and seemed to catch on the fastest while you and Emanuel barely managed to follow along. And by the time it was time to compete, you barely beat Emanuel only because he lost his balance and fell to the ground and could barely get up past his own hands and knees. 

Aurava though. She blew through the class and then was the class champion before she was gifted a very special gift. The ability to become a mega phoenix. Meant to guard the colony’s bunker where the uncollared and half collared mouras usually took refuge when the colony would come under attack or attempted to be invaded. And you couldn’t be prouder that she of all people got that honor and privilege. 

“Congratulations Rava. If anyone could ever take that post and protect any colony, it would be you.” You congratulated her you hugged her and smiled when she was even slightly warmer to the touch than usual. 

“Thanks.” She thanked you as she hugged you back just as tightly before all the champions of the various classes competed against each other for the championship of the class and you and others who had grown up with Aurava in your home colony cheered the loudest when she beat every single opponent. Even wearing both harnesses doing so and all of you couldn’t be prouder of her for doing so. 

But all the guys from your colony were all related in a way to all the others. And all the other guys she bested, they were obviously hurt that she, even being half as big as them, beat them so easily and so quickly and tried to excuse as to why they weren’t “at their best”. Which got you to roll your eyes because of how sore losers they were being. 

And when she had to face off against the next lowest competitor of the local class, who was only 8, he had been training since he was 3 and he used his smaller size and the actual harnesses to beat her which got all the other guys she had beaten to cheer the loudest which pissed you off. 

“You did great. You should be proud you even got to graduate your class, not to mention the championship I know your parents will be so proud to see your trophy and practically brag about it until even the onikama hear of it.” You tried to soothe and reassure her as you and Emanuel helped her to her feet and helped take the harnesses off while the young boy was carried on the wings of the others Aurava had bested. 

“Yeah.” She softly said as she got up and dusted herself off and at least, congratulated the victor. Who was very impressed and moved by her own sense of sportsmanship and took that moment to use her as the perfect example to the others of how a real champion of Kamoba behaves and graciously takes their victories as well as their defeat. He even invited her to sit with himself and his own family for the feast as all the other guys were once again incensed for her to be recognized as better by even the Dorrierrans. 

You could only sit back and glare at them and their immaturity and the fact that they were now practically schmoozing any other girl leaving her to sit there simply holding her trophy off in a corner because no one would even ask her to dance. 

“Don’t worry Aurava. The right guy will be impressed and his chicken egg shell fragile masculinity will never be intimidated by you or your strength or skills. If anything he will be just as proud as you and all the rest of us are.” You reassured her as you came over and wrapped your arm around her shoulders.

“I feel like this cost me any chances of ever finding a mate though, at least any of the one on this flight.” Aurava muttered. 

“And that’s why the winter solstice is the best of all the solstice flights. These literal and figurative losers can go fuck the weakest and stupidest of our brethren all they want. You are saving yourself for someone extraordinary. And I have a feeling you’re going to meet them on that southern solstice flight. I feel it in my bones. Besides I’ve heard that the southern lights are even more spectacular than the northern ones. So don’t settle for anything less than mediocre ok?” You urged her. 

“Because a Moonchild deserves nothing less.” You added as you pressed the crown of your head into hers and that got her to grin and really, truly smile for the first time this whole flight. 

“You should get back to Emanuel, looks like he’s about to start humping air at this point.” She pointed out. 

“Yeah, we were gonna go to the gardens and get a quickie in.” You revealed to her. 

“Well you better hurry up. We have to leave before the sun fully sets.” She reminded you. 

“Oh shit, you’re right. Excuse me.” You excused as you pressed a sweet kiss to her cheek and left and stole into a nice darker corner in one of the many gardens. 

“Feel better now that you don’t have those restraints nailing your ass down to the ground?” You taunted Emanuel as he pinned you against the wall as your moura cloak clothes separated for him to spear your center with his cock as you blew out a breath of relief to feel him enter you. 

“Oh like this?” Emanuel taunted as his own moura cloak grew ropes to restrain your hands above your head and even tied your ankles behind his lower back so you were the one restrained which only made you squeal in delight as you were happy to surrender yourself into his arms as he was kissing you so passionately, it was almost bruising. Almost. But that only made the pleasure that much more intense as your moura marks and his own soon began to intertwine and pulse together, faster and brighter. 

“Yes, yes, yes, just like that!” You keened as his cock hit all those pleasure points in your canal before your orgams bloomed only a heartbeat before his own as you both had to close your eyes to keep them safe from the brightness of the marks that always piqued with sexual release before he took your arms and looped them around his neck as he held you tightly before you smiled when the ropes receded so you could fully wrap your arms around him. 

“I love you.” You sighed happily. 

“I love you too.” He returned before you decided to forgo with the tradition and took his collar for his. 

“No point in waiting.” You smiled. 

“Nope. So, is it gonna be my colony or yours?” He asked. 

“Flip a coin.” You shook your head with a shrug. 

“Ok, fine. Let’s do it.” He smiled as he reached out and pulled a leaf off of a tree and turned it into gold and made a coin with his thumb print on one side as you pressed your own thumbprint into the other side in the other direction, flattening it as you did so.

“Your thumbprint is heads because your colony is at the poles. My colony is to the south so it’s tails.” He suggested. 

“Deal.” You beamed before he flipped the coin, caught it and put it over the back of his hand. 

“Heads.” He smiled when he lifted his hand to reveal your thumb print on the back of it.

“Yes!” You cheered as you took the coin and made a strand of gold out of another few leaves to put the coin on. So that you’d always have it with you. 

“Perfect.” He praised as he kissed you sweetly before you could see and hear more and more couples finding completion only moments before the sun was about to touch the horizon which would signal for all of you to get into the air again to keep following the sun back to the host colony. 

“Time to fly My Love.” Emanuel urged you as he got your hand and led you to where all of you would be jumping off into the sky from. 

“Yes, time to fly, free as the birds we are.” You cooed back before you both transformed back into birds and soon took to the air by the thousands, waiving back to your hosts and calling back countless thanks as you did before you got to the air to see Aurava already in her mega phoenix form, her trophy clutched in one of her huge talloned feet. 

“Woo! Looking good Rava!” You crooned as you soon took up position to catch those sweet air currents coming off of her wing tips as the sun helped give her all the power she would need to practically coast from her current height back to the host colony as the others who had gotten the gifts of the mega-pheonixs form the mighty birds as they soon made their own V, leaving Aurava to either take up the end of the V or fly solo. 

“Sore losers. Don’t let them get to you. You will find a man who will happily follow wherever you will lead.” You encouraged her as you flew next to her extra large head. 

“Hopefully.” She sighed as you and all those who had been in your colony soon took up the V behind her. Showing their own sign of solidarity and support which Aurava really appreciated. Because birds of a feather should always flock together.