#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

[nausicaamusiclover20]

I don't know if you do angst or not, but this idea has been in my head for a long time...

James (possibly MOP or BA era) and the reader love each other very much, but at some point the reader finds out that she has an incurable disease and doesn't have much time left. James is always by her side, helping her and making her happy even in the worst of times. In the end, the reader dies, which upsets James very much, because he lost his love :( (I didn't come up with anything specific for the ending, but it's clearly VERY sad)

It may sound really strange, but I really love sad stories. For me, they are stronger and, let's say, I've always loved them because I don’t know, but they leave something inside of you compared to a happy story (obviously, this is just how I feel). That being said, I hope you like it, and yes, it's sad, but I hope you can still enjoy it. ❤

_____________________

The wind rises

Life on the road was always unpredictable. Late nights, roaring crowds, and the endless hum of the tour bus felt like chaos to some, but for us, it was magic. James and I made it magic.

I remember the first tour I joined him on, a whirlwind of lights and sound. Back then, I wasn’t sure how I’d fit into his world. But James made it clear I wasn’t just in his world—I was his world.

The happiest days were the quiet ones, tucked away in dressing rooms or backstage corners, where it was just us. He’d pick up his acoustic guitar and strum a soft tune, one he swore was inspired by me. I’d tease him about being a big, tough metal god with a soft side, and he’d laugh that deep, infectious laugh that could melt every worry I had.

But then came the day everything changed.

It happened during a break between shows. I had been feeling off—more tired than usual, some lingering aches that wouldn’t go away. James had been the one to insist I see a doctor, and I could tell by his furrowed brow that he’d been worried long before I admitted something was wrong.

The doctor’s office was sterile and cold, the hum of fluorescent lights filling the silence after the diagnosis. The doctor cleared his throat, his tone gentle but unyielding.

“Miss Hetfield” he began carefully, “you’re suffering from a rare condition—one that, unfortunately, we don’t have a cure for yet.”

I felt the words settle over me like a heavy fog. James, sitting beside me, stiffened.

“How long?” I whispered, barely able to form the words.

The doctor hesitated, his kind eyes filled with a sympathy I didn’t want to see. “It’s difficult to say. Months, perhaps longer, depending on treatment.”

James’s hand found mine, squeezing it tightly. His voice was calm, but I knew him well enough to catch the tremor beneath the surface. “What do we do now?” he asked, his jaw clenched.

The doctor explained what little could be done—pain management, options to slow progression—but I barely heard him. All I could think about was the life James and I had built, the dreams we hadn’t yet chased.

Later, when we were alone in the car, I couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“I’m so sorry,” I choked out, tears spilling down my cheeks. “I didn’t want this to ruin everything.”

James pulled me into his arms, his chin resting on top of my head. “Hey, none of that,” he murmured, his voice breaking just slightly. “This doesn’t ruin us. Nothing ever could.”

He held me tightly as I cried, his strength the only thing keeping me from falling apart completely. “We’re in this together, Y/N,” he whispered. “Every step of the way. I won’t let you alone throught this.”

The doctor’s words echoed in my mind long after we left his office. “It’s a rare condition. There’s no cure… but we’ll do everything we can to keep you comfortable.”

James hadn’t let go of my hand the entire drive home. The silence between us wasn’t cold; it was heavy with unspoken fears.

When we got home, he finally broke the silence. “I’m canceling the rest of the tour.”

I shook my head quickly. “James, no. You can’t. The guys, the fans—”

“They’ll understand,” he interrupted firmly. “This isn’t up for debate, Y/N. You’re what matters.”

Despite my protests, he called Lars, Kirk, and Jason that night. They didn’t hesitate to agree, their voices filled with concern when James explained.

“We’ll pick it up later,” Lars said over the phone. “Family comes first.”

In the weeks that followed, James stayed by my side, his love a constant source of strength. I wanted to be strong for him, too, so I tried to live as normally as I could.

There were quiet mornings when we’d sit on the porch, sipping coffee and watching the sunrise. He’d bring out his guitar, strumming softly while I rested my head on his shoulder.

“Play something new,” I’d tease, and he’d grin.

“Something new, huh? How about a song for you?” he’d reply, making up silly lyrics that always ended with, “I love you, babe.”

The good days were a blessing. But the bad days came more frequently as time went on. Simple tasks became exhausting. My body grew weaker, and I could see the worry etched deeper into James’s face.

One night, as he tucked a blanket around me on the couch, I grabbed his hand. “James,” I said softly, “I think… It's time. I need more help than you can give me.”

His jaw tightened, and he nodded, his eyes glistening. “If that’s what you need, we’ll do it. But I’m staying with you, Y/N. Every step of the way.”

The transition to the hospital was bittersweet. I missed the warmth of home, but I knew it was the best place for me now. James transformed the sterile room into something comforting—photos of us together, little mementos from our life on tour, and his ever-present guitar leaning against the wall.

He practically moved in, refusing to leave my side. Every morning, he brought my favorite tea, sneaking it past the nurses. Every evening, he’d sit by my bed, playing soft melodies that felt like home.

“You don’t have to stay here all the time, you know,” I said one day, my voice faint but teasing. “The guys need you too.”

“They’ll survive,” he replied, brushing his fingers through my hair. “You’re my priority.”

It had been weeks in the hospital, each day feeling heavier than the last. James remained steadfast, refusing to leave my side. One afternoon, the doctor entered with a solemn expression.

“There’s one option we haven’t discussed yet,” he began cautiously, glancing between James and me. “It’s a surgical procedure that could potentially extend your time. However…” He hesitated, taking a deep breath. “The success rate is very low—around 30%. And even if it’s successful, recovery would be extremely challenging.”

James tensed beside me, his hand gripping mine. I could feel the weight of the decision already pressing on him.

“What are the risks?” I asked, my voice soft but steady.

The doctor explained the complications—how the surgery could fail, how it might make my final days more difficult if it didn’t work. The room fell silent when he finished.

“We’ll think about it,” James said finally, his voice tight.

The doctor’s words echoed in the stillness of the room. The surgery was a slim chance—30%. But it was all we had left.

James stood beside me, his hand gently holding mine, his touch grounding me as if I might drift away. “If you want to try, we’ll do it,” he said, his voice steady but filled with an ache that ran deeper than anything I could say.

I looked up at him, my eyes filled with a quiet resolve. "James," I whispered, a small, faint smile tugging at my lips. "Promise me one thing, no matter what happens—promise me you’ll keep living. Keep playing, keep feeling, keep loving, because… I’ll always be with you. Even when you can’t see me. “James” I whispered softly, “f ever you need to feel me closer

just call my name, and I will be the wind. This will be my sign, to make you know that I’m there—whispering in the breeze, always with you, always beside you.”

He paused, his eyes holding mine, and I saw the pain in them, but also the love—the fierce, unrelenting love that had always carried us. “I promise” he murmured, brushing a soft kiss against my forehead.

As they wheeled me into the operating room, I could barely speak above a breath, but I managed, "James, I love you."

"I love you more than you’ll ever know," he replied, his voice breaking as they took me away.

Hours passed. Time seemed to stretch endlessly, the silence thick around him as James waited. The minutes turned into hours, and with each passing second, he felt the weight of the world pressing in.When the surgeon finally appeared, his face was soft, sorrowful, and James knew before the words left his lips.

“I’m sorry,” the doctor said, his voice thick with regret. “We did everything we could, but her body couldn’t handle it. The surgery wasn’t enough.”

The words hit James like a thunderclap, a devastating blow that left him breathless and trembling. His vision blurred, and for a long, unbearable moment, the world around him ceased to exist. There was only the unbearable weight of that loss.

His legs gave out beneath him. He crumpled to the floor, no longer able to stand, as if the very foundation of the world had fractured beneath him. His hands shook violently, and he pressed them to his face, but it did nothing to stop the tears that poured relentlessly from his eyes. His body trembled with grief, with the suffocating weight of knowing he would never see her smile again, never feel her warmth in his arms.

“I—” he gasped, his breath coming in ragged sobs. “I couldn’t… I couldn’t save her.”

The doctor, knowing there was nothing more to say, placed a hand on his shoulder, but it did nothing to ease the agony. James didn’t feel the comforting weight. He felt empty. Hollow.

____

The days that followed felt like a suffocating fog. James couldn’t bear the thought of performing, of being around anyone. He had promised her he would keep going, that he would continue to live and play music, but everything felt meaningless now. There was no joy in the songs anymore, no spark in the crowd's cheers. Without her, the world seemed dull, and his soul seemed trapped in a perpetual night.

He stayed at home, surrounded by her things—her favorite books, the half-finished letters she had written but never sent, her guitar that now sat untouched in the corner. The house was empty, and yet, it was filled with her presence, haunting him at every turn. The silence between the walls felt crushing. He could still hear her voice, her laughter, the way she would hum along to the songs they shared. But she was gone. The only thing left were the memories that refused to leave him, reminders of everything he had lost.

He couldn’t bring himself to pick up his guitar. Every note seemed wrong without her. It was as if the music had died with her. Even the band, understanding the depth of his grief, respected his decision to stay home, to step back from everything.

He spent days in solitude, hours staring out the window, watching the world continue without him. How could it? How could anything continue when his world had shattered? He couldn’t even bring himself to turn on the television, to leave the house, to speak to anyone. The thought of facing the world without her made him want to crawl into a hole and never come out.

Every night, he would lie in their bed, the space beside him empty. It was too quiet. He would reach out, his hand searching for her, but there was nothing there. He could almost hear her voice in his ear, telling him to hold on, to keep going—but it wasn’t the same. The warmth of her touch, the strength of her smile, had slipped through his fingers, and no amount of time would ever bring that back.

Months had passed since her death, but the ache in James’s chest had never faded. The world had moved on, but he felt as though he was still standing at the edge of a cliff, unable to take another step. The house was colder now, emptier, even though it was filled with her memory. He couldn’t escape it, no matter how hard he tried.

One evening, just as the sun began to dip below the horizon, James found himself standing at the foot of her grave. The sky was painted in shades of orange and pink, slowly fading into purple as the night approached. The cool evening air wrapped around him, but the weight of his grief felt heavier than ever. He clutched a bouquet of sunflowers—her favorite—his fingers trembling slightly.

He knelt slowly, his knees stiff from the long walk, and lowered himself to the ground. The stillness of the evening settled around him, and for a long moment, he couldn’t speak. The silence was all-consuming, as if the world had paused to allow him a brief moment of peace—though it was a peace filled with unbearable sorrow.

“I don’t know how to keep doing this,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “Every day feels like I’m walking through a world that doesn’t make sense without you in it. I... I miss you so much.”

He placed the flowers gently on the ground, his fingers brushing the cool earth as he traced the inscription on the gravestone. Her name—Y/N Hetfield—was carved into the stone, permanent and unyielding, a stark reminder of what was lost.

“I don’t know how to breathe without you beside me,” he continued, his voice thick with emotion. “I don’t know how to find my way in this world without your light guiding me. I promised you I’d keep going, that I wouldn’t give up... but how can I when everything feels like it’s falling apart?”

James fell silent, his eyes blurring with tears. He let the stillness of the graveyard wash over him. The evening air was warm, but it felt heavy with the grief that had become a constant companion since her passing. For a moment, he could almost hear her voice again, a gentle echo in his mind, like a whisper in the wind.

But then, as if the wind itself were reaching out to him, he felt a soft breeze brush against his skin. It was a familiar sensation, a warmth that reminded him of the touch of her hand, the way she would stand beside him, always. The air seemed to hum with the memory of her, comforting yet heartbreaking.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “When I look up at the sky, are you there, looking down at me too?”

The wind picked up, and for a moment, it felt like her presence was all around him, like she was standing there beside him once more, wrapping him in the same warmth he had always felt from her. He closed his eyes, the tears falling freely, but this time, they were mixed with a quiet sense of comfort, as though she was still there, still watching over him.

“I’ll keep going,” he whispered again, his voice full of love and sorrow. “I’ll keep you alive in everything I do. In every song I play, in every note I sing, I’ll carry you with me. You’ll never be gone.”

James lifted his head and looked at the sky. The last remnants of daylight were fading, leaving behind a soft, dusky glow. The horizon was now a mixture of deep purples and blues, the sky giving way to the darkness of night, but still holding onto the warmth of the day. It was as if the world was saying goodbye to the sun, just as he was saying goodbye to her.

As he stood to leave, the breeze shifted again, gently brushing against his face, and in that moment, he felt her presence more than ever. It was as if her spirit was in the wind, surrounding him, telling him she was always with him. He took a deep breath, and in that breath, he felt peace—peace that her love would never fade, that she would always be a part of him, in every wind, in every note, in every moment.

“I’ll always love you,” he whispered to the wind, the words escaping him without thought, like an offering to the sky. Then, with one final glance at her grave, he walked away, his heart still aching but a little lighter, knowing that she would never truly be gone.

[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.

[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.

[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.

[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

[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.

[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.

[chaoticpizzalawyerbiscuit]

I just read your Azriel × reader one shot, I think I'm in love ! And I have a request for you. I've been in love with one song and one song only. It hhas never been changed since like very long time , lot's of years. And the song is Lana Del Rey- Love. The feeling that it gives me is just enchanting. English is my second language so sometimes I just shut down my brain for English and just feel the song with its melodies and rhytm. And it always gives me hope but also kinda sad. Like it has been raining hard but now you see rainbow or you missed your lover terribly and now you're kissing them. I think you got what I meant. Can you write someting with Azriel that' gonna make me feel like the song does? I know this might be silly or doesn't make any sense but if you do I would be more than happy and appreciated💖 thank you so much!

Love

Hi! I'm sorry it took me so long to answer you, but here it is!! I hope you enjoy it, darling 🥰 ✨don’t forget to make your own request✨ • I don’t own any of Sarah J. Mass’ characters or any of her plots, I’m just a fan having fun. Also I do not own the images. This is story is mine though, so please do not copy • WARNING! this is VERY angsty and sad, and you might cry and/or explode because of the fluff

My tears dampened the pillow beneath my head. Today, sadness claimed me more than yesterday, sucking the very strength out of me. It paralises me enough that I can’t get out of bed, and that I only wish crawl into a dark corner, staying there forever.

Loneliness was my most hated color. But today, it paints every moment of my miserable existence. And I think it suits me.

∞

The pain blurred my eyes, and I only saw teardrops

The pain took my youth, and left the weight of my mistakes

The pain blurred my days, and I lost track of time

The pain took my soul, and left the monster of my true self

and eventually

The pain blurred my emotions, and I stopped feeling at all.

∞

My mother used to say beautiful words that my young ears never understood. Most of them got lost with time, but one was carved into my very skin.

alight

And yet, even after I learned what it meant, I never got to feel it.

∞

But I should’ve guessed it. Destiny liked me too much to leave me alone as well. So he played the strings one last time, and magic was done. I felt it all again.

The pain blurred my eyes, and I only saw teardrops

The pain took my youth, and left the weight of my mistakes

The pain blurred my days, and I lost track of time

The pain took my soul, and left the monster of my true self

and eventually

The pain blurred my emotions, and I stopped feeling at all.

but I saw his face and

The pain no longer blurred or took anything

The pain was gone.

∞

Azriel, she learned later, was his name. That gorgeous male was her mate, and the classic, beautiful traces of his face never failed to take her breath away.

Once, he asked her, in the middle of the night

“Y/N, why are your eyes so sad?”

He had never seen someone like her, with an indescribable beauty. She was elegant and gracious, fun and unpredictable, but above all, she was intense. And so was her sadness.

What strained his heart the most was her eyes, that even after an eternity of laughter, reflected such a deep suffering. He saw eyes like that on his own face.

The only answer he got was a single teardrop down her cheek.

∞

Turns out, the pain never truly went away. It was just forgotten when she was around him, and because of that, the moments away from him were unbearable.

He found out about this too when he came to see her, and found her crying. Harsh sobs racked through her body, and his gut clenched.

He knelt in front of her, took her face into his scarred hands, and asked

“What’s wrong?”

“Everything.” She whispered. “All of it is so awful, and you are my only light. I drown in grief every day of my life. I feel too much, and feel nothing at all. I want better, but I can’t stop treating myself so awfully.” Her voice raised with every word, and agony filled her. “It hurts. It all hurts.”

He embraced her, pulling her into his warmth, trying to sooth the pain. She laid her forehead on his chest, kneeling with him, and gripped his shirt with an iron grip. She would not loose him as well.

After the tears and sobs, she tried to move away, and he pulled her closer.

Their eyes met, and he laid himself bare to her. Took down all his walls, laid down his guard around himself, and told his entire history to her. Showing her his own pains and fears.

But in that moment, he was too late. Pain had taken everything from her once again.

He flinched when her blank stare met his overwhelmed one.

He tried to move away and succeeded.

She did not pull him closer.

So he left

And she was set alight.

∞

First, pain burned her from the inside.

Second, she was angry, at him and at herself.

Third, she forgave him.

Fourth, she forgave herself.

Fifth, she built courage to face him one last time

∞

He met her at a hillside with a view to the sea. She sat underneath the soft light of the sun, in late afternoon hours. Beside her, there was a panic basket and a pile of books. Her dress fluttered with the passing breeze, the same that caressed her hair. After months of solely thinking of her, seeing that face was a definitive answer. He loved her, with all his might, with all his sorrow and all his happy.

Sitting beside his mate, his heart was at ease, even with the hurt that she caused him.

“Hi” she said hesitantly.

“Hello Y/N”. She shivered with that voice, she missed him so much. There was nothing capable of describing the relief of seeing him.

“I wanted to talk to you,” she averted his eyes, “about what happened last time. What I did was wrong, and you deserved a better reaction than the one I gave you. You deserved support.” She looks into his eyes, her voice breaking slightly. “I am so sorry. You were always there for me, and I ended up hurting the both of us when I forgot who I truly am.”

Her gaze went to the sea, and beyond into the horizon. Her chest moved with a soft sigh she exhaled. “I want to tell that it was not intentional to hurt you in a vulnerable moment, and that I’m grateful that you shared with me such a beautiful story. If you want to try things between us again, I I would love to, but if you —

His fingers touched her chin, turning her blushing face towards him. She froze.

“Y/N, I’m sorry too. For not trying to help you earlier, and for letting my fears control my actions so deeply. But the thing I’m most sorry for is the fact that I didn’t come to see you in such a long time. I hurt the both of us as well with my pride, and I wish I could change that. But I can’t change the past, so I offer you this: I love you, Y/N.”

She blinked her teary eyes, and threw her arms around me, a choked laugh passing through her lips. I hug her back, breathing in her scent, and she whispered in my ear: “I love you, Azriel.”

She pulled back slightly, and pressed her lips against mine softly. We join in a slow sweet kiss, my hands on the nape of her neck, and a small humm of delight leaves her.

When we break apart, she lays her forehead against mine.

“Thank you for reminding me,” she says “of who I truly am, and who I’ve always been.”

“And who would be that, my light?” She blushes with the nickname, and answers

“A beautiful star, with her glowing scars and smiles, set alight by love. My love for myself, my mother’s love, your love”

[parastitch]

silent no longer

A non gender voice acting script for the sad and broken written by me in the format to be read out loud about by a gurdian angel what cant be silent any longer.

stop! please stop..

just please… <spoken in tears>

just put it down

…

you know who I am. <pleading>

you might never have seen me but you've felt me your whole life.

I've watched you your whole life.

just stop..

put it down and listen to me..

….

if i had wished you harm, all i would have had to do is show up one minute later; couldn't i have? <spoken angrily>

…..

-angry thunder rolls outside-

just stop talking -voice echoes- <voice still angry>

thank you <calm but exasperated>

I've watched you your whole life.

But i couldn't just watch this.

…..

I'm exactly what you think I am.

and I've been with you your whole life.

From the time you were a toddler and you cried for days when you learned that people you have never met went to bed hungry.

I was there when you made the conscious decision at the age of 9 years 2 months and five days to always sit at lunch with the lonely kids.

I was there when you prayed for guidance the night before graduation because of all the paths you could take you wanted to follow the one that did the most good.

….

No i can't hear your thoughts, but your prayers...

your prayers and your heart I have always heard.

I can read you like a book.

Like the pain I saw upon you with every heartbreak.

I saw that.

I couldn't help but feel that.

Just like I saw every time you forgave them.

I saw how you forced yourself to let go, and I saw you smile when you forced yourself to imagine them happy,

even while you were in the midst of despair.

I saw you every time the wheels of your head spun while you were trying to figure out how to make every stranger without a smile on their face just a little bit happier.

I know you!

Don't look away in shame.

You did not fail anyone.

….

Yes, I know what this is about.

…

What you deserve?

Heaven; save and protect us from getting what we deserve.

Except for maybe people like you.

<deep breath>

You've seen enough suffering to know DESERVE is not what life is about.

It's about free will and what you choose to do with it,

and I've seen what you do with it.

…

listen to me...

you can't save everyone.

But I have never once seen you fail to try.

I once saw you drive 4 miles to the next exit on a freeway, just so you could retrace another two miles just to get back to an old lady with a flat.

You know I heard her pray for you?

She said your name and thanked God for you that day, and prayed for you to have strength.

…

Because even a stranger paying attention knows it's not easy to be you.

But you do it everyday.

I've seen actual miracles.

I heard the original words of creation even as my substance was formed from the very aether.

So when I say that a heart staying as kind as yours in the world is a miracle.

….

yes! -thunder outside-

kindness saves lives

Your kindness saves lives.

You don't see the ripples, but i do...

and you have made tsunamis.

…

You never knew that one of those children at lunch who you sat with had a list of names in his pocket that day, and he was forming a plan.

Now because of you instead of a short and violent life he is an RN at a cancer clinic, a good father, and a loving husband.

His beautiful children are growing up in a loving home and only the divine knows what light they will bring into the world because of it.

...

Stop, those were not your fault.

You can touch people's hearts but you can't change them.

I know you feel like it is your will against the world, but if you play with those rules the world will always win.

Some people never wanted to be saved.

…

You are not alone.

I promise you there is a legion of kind, loving souls in the world doing the work everyday.

However, there is not another soul in creation like yours and there never will be again.

You are of more value than you could even know and a "you" size hole would mean the downfall of many.

Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow but I promise you that everyday you walk the earth, the earth is better for it.

…

Yes even if you don't recycle.

Don't get smart with me dear.

…

More than anything you need to know that you are loved.

…

Yes, loved,

there is not a soul that has taken the time to really see you that did not love you.

Some were complete strangers moments before finding reasons to love you.

…

You are easy to love, even though it is a burden to see you in anguish.

…

yes

I love you.

How could I have spent your entire life watching you and not love you.

…

Not just because it is my job, but because you are incredibly easy to love.

…

hush hush

…

<sounds of moving the listener to the bed and speaker sitting next to them>

I don't want you to live just to help others, I want you to want to live for you.

I can't make your burden lighter or take your yolk from you because that would change who you are, and as I mentioned before the world is better for having you in it.

but what I can do is let you know you are loved.

and you are..

...

Look at me <spoken firmly>

not alone.

you are never alone.

…

Though once you close your eyes you may never see me again in your lifetime, know that I am always here.

When you wake in the morning I will be here.

When you lay your head down next I will be beside you.

Always watching you,

and yes, always loving you.

NOW SLEEP. <echos>

[suwya]

Till the Stars Had Run Away - Chapter 6

.

Summary: Killian Jones was a voyager. Actually, he was many things, or at least he had been - a lieutenant, a brother, a loving boyfriend - until everything had turned upside down and his life had hit an all time low. So, he gave up. Aboard his spaceship he abandoned Arcadia, his planet, navigating the stars and other solar systems in search of... well, he still didn't know what he was searching for, but his rule was "never remain in the same place longer than necessary."

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Rating: M

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Prologue; Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5

AO3

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A/N: Sorry for the waiting, but real life came along and I had to stop writing for a couple of weeks. Thank you @thisonesatellite for being the best beta reader I could ever ask for. And thank to all of you who are reading this. Happy Labour Day!

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Chapter 6 . .

Be not inhospitable to strangers,

lest they be angels in disguise.

(W. B. Yeats)

.

.

.

When Killian regained consciousness he found himself in what reminded him of a military hospital. There were thin white curtains around his bed, but through them he could spot other beds like his, most of them empty. The room seemed large and dimly lit.

He closed his eyes and remembered the crash landing, the unknown desert planet, the great rock that was about to crush Henry, and that feeling of unease and imminent danger he had felt just before the impact. Where was he? And above all what kind of situation was he in, a good or a bad one? He opened his eyes again, and noticed he wasn’t alone. A woman was checking his IV, and a nearby monitor was beeping intermittently.

Killian tried to sit up, but a stabbing pain in his lungs made him desist immediately. He groaned loudly.

“Look who’s awake.” Said the woman, who was now staring at him. “Hello, handsome.” She added cheerfully.

Killian had found himself dealing with uncharted waters several times in his life. He decided to play the waiting game. “This is usually my line, well, more or less.”

“Really? In this case, I'll warn my husband not to approach you.”

“Don’t worry I'm not into men, not recently at least.” He smirked.

“Oh, but my husband is quite the charming one.”

“I still prefer the company of a fair lady, if I could choose.” He winked and chuckled, and a dull pain made him gasp.

“Take it easy.” She immediately shifted her attitude from playful to worried. “How do you feel?”

“As if I've been hit by a rocket.”

“Not a rocket, but yes, you’ve been hit hard. You’ve suffered two broken ribs. And believe me, you were lucky, it could have been worse. Do you mind if I run some tests and see how you react?”

“No problem.”

While the woman was busy measuring his temperature, making him follow a small blue LED light with his gaze, and extracting some blood to examine later, he took advantage of the opportunity to observe her more closely. She had short black hair and green eyes, bright and lively in contrast to her very delicate skin. Killian found himself thinking of another pair of green eyes, which had been filling his thoughts frequently lately. The memory brought him back to reality quickly.

“What is this place?” He inquired, eager to know what had happened while he was unconscious.

“Welcome to Vernal-Den.” She answered smiling.

Killian tried to remember if he had ever read about this planet. “Never heard of it.”

“Yeah, we’re not very popular.”

Was she too concentrated on checking-in his vitals, or was she being too concise on purpose? He didn’t know, but he intended to keep an eye on her. “How long was I out?”

“A while.” Another elusive answer.

He decided to test the waters. “Were there ….other injured people with me?”

“If you’re referring to Henry and Emma, they are perfectly fine.” She seemed sincere. “They are staying at our place. Henry has visited you every day since you came in.”

“And Emma?”

“Well, she can’t come in. She’s not a relative of yours. But she has spent long hours sitting just outside that door.” She said pointing towards the exit. “I had to order her to go home and get some rest.”

After that she excused herself, saying that she had to attend to other patients.

He realized she hadn’t even told him her name. He didn’t know if he could trust her or not. The fact that she had avoided some of his questions sent chills down his spine. And most of all there was the Emma problem.

Why couldn’t she visit him? Was it true that it was only a matter of rules? Or was she in some kind of peril? He needed to know what was happening behind those doors that separated him from the woman that had been pestering his dreams in the last ten years of his life. He had to know that she was alright. To hell with rules! He thought. And by the way, when was the last time he followed one. He had to get out of this place. He tried to sit up, but the pain in his lungs was so strong that his vision started to blur and cold sweat formed on his temples. He lay back down on the bed, aware that in his conditions he couldn’t have gone far before collapsing unconscious on the floor. He promised himself to solve the problem as soon as he had enough strengths, but he couldn't dwell too much on that thought, because sleep was reclaiming his mind again.

.

.

~·~·~·~

.

.

Time passed very slowly, or so it seemed, but maybe it was simply the fact that every day looked the same. Killian was mostly asleep, probably due to the painkillers introduced through the IV, and when he woke up he couldn't tell how long he had been out, he couldn't even tell if it was day or night. There were no windows in that room.

During one of the moments when his mind regained consciousness, he felt the mattress drop slightly to one side and he slowly opened his eyes.

“You are awake! How do you feel? Can you breathe? Of course you can, you would be dead otherwise! Does it hurt?” Henry was sitting at the end of the bed, and he was asking a lot of questions, as usual. “Sorry.” He suddenly looked contrite. “I should let you rest, but…”

“It’s ok, lad.” Killian cut him off. “I’m glad to see you’re all in one piece.”

The boy greeted him with a wide grin.

Killian remembered the last moments before getting injured, and he was relieved to know that he had been able to prevent that rock from hitting Henry. But other worries crowded his mind. “How about your mom?”

“She’s fine. She’s outside. They won’t let her in. You know, only relatives and all that stuff.” He explained.

“I see. And why are you…?”

Henry didn’t let him finish the question. “I told them I’m your son.” He whispered with a conspiratory smile.

“Clever boy.” Killian’s chuckle turned soon into a cough due to the pain.

“Does it hurt?” The boy asked, frowning.

The man dismissed the question with a wave of his hand. “It’s not a big deal.” He didn’t want the lad to feel responsible for his well-being. “How many days have passed since we landed here?” He asked, changing the subject.

“I don't know exactly.” And at Killian’s questioning look, he added, “It’s complicated.”

“How so?”

“People live underground here,” The boy started to explain, “With no opportunity to look outside. And there are no clocks. My watch had probably broken when we arrived, it doesn’t work anymore.”

The man hummed, he was starting to understand. The lack of windows, the elusive answer he had received from the dark-haired nurse… everything was beginning to tally in Killian’s head. “I want you to think carefully about everything you saw outside this room. Did you feel something was wrong?”

The boy shrugged. “I don't know.” He seemed to ponder. “This place is strange. Lots of corridors and passages underground. We are not allowed to go out into the open. They say it’s dangerous. But I never felt a threat or something. I would rather say it’s boring.”

“Why boring?”

Henry was trying to find the right words to explain it. “All the days are the same, people repeat the same actions every day. They say it’s useful to maintain a routine. But I don’t think Mary Margaret and David are bad people.”

“I’m sorry, who?” Killian asked.

“Oh, yeah, Mary Margaret, she is your nurse. We’re staying at her home. She is very nice. And David is her husband. He showed me the greenhouse. It’s awesome and huge, you should see it! But I don’t think he works there. I don’t know what his job is.”

Routine? New people? A greenhouse? Well, that was a lot of information to process. But Killian felt sleep calling him back. Next time I see that lady Margaret, I’m going to ask her not to put more painkillers in my IV. He thought. “Thank you, Henry, for everything. But I may need to rest for a while now.” He managed to say before falling asleep again.

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~·~·~·~

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Emma knew Killian was feeling better, Henry had told her about their short chat, and some of her child's enthusiasm had even infected her positively, but she continued to feel restless, she wanted to make herself useful. Most of all, she wanted to see Killian again.

All this absurd situation was her fault. And no, she was not thinking about the fact that Killian was lying on a hospital bed because of some bad decisions she had made lately. No. She was not going down that path again. She had already spent a lot of hours regretting many choices done in the last month.

But this was nonsensical, why couldn’t she visit a friend that was hurt and maybe in need of some company? She had actually had a chance to say that she was his wife; after all in the eyes of her guests, she and Killian had a son together, so why not lie a bit more and make Mary Margaret believe that she and Killian were married. But the thought of a possible long time spent together on this planet feigning to be a happily married couple scared her, and she couldn’t go on with the lie.

So there she was, sitting on a very uncomfortable metal chair in the waiting room. She had spent more hours there than she could count.

David had passed by to greet his wife, and he had offered to take Henry with him, on the way back home. So she was left alone with her thoughts.

Mary Margaret peeked out the door with a steaming mug in her hand. “Take this. It will help.”

She agreed with a nod. “Thank you.” She sipped some of the hot liquid and it felt like her nerves were starting to relax a little.

“You should go home and rest. It's late.” The woman said.

“Mary Margaret let me enter.” Emma pleaded for the umpteenth time.

“We have already talked about it. You know I can’t do that. There are strict rules down here, and the best way for us to survive is to follow them.”

“This is insane. I’m not a dangerous criminal or someone who is plotting to destroy this planet. I just want to see him. Please.” She begged.

The dark-haired woman seemed to be pondering all the possible consequences. “All right.” She sighed. “Let’s just say that I’m going inside and leave the door ajar, by mistake, of course. I have to check some very important documents, so I’ll be busy and concentrated. I’m not going to ask you what you’re going to do in the next... fifteen minutes or so. Okay?”

“Thank you.” Emma handed her the cup back, rising from her chair. “You won’t regret it.”

After Mary Margaret disappeared behind the door, Emma waited some minutes before going after her. The room was large and there were many beds, she had no idea where Killian was, but after a quick look at the surroundings, she discovered that only a couple of all the beds were occupied.

She approached one of those and gently opened the curtain trying not to disturb the patient lying inside.

Killian seemed asleep. He was pale, with dark circles under his eyes. She could only imagine the pain he was going through. She had her heart in her throat because she felt responsible for the situation. If they hadn't taken a detour because she had requested it, they'd probably all be home safe and sound by now.

“Hey, beautiful.” He greeted her with a painful grin.

Immersed as she was in her thoughts, she hadn't noticed that he had woken up. She smiled, trying to be strong and not show her inner turmoil. “Do they treat you well here?”

“I'm not complaining. The nurse is kind and the food is edible.” He tried to downplay the situation. “Although I would prefer the care and attention of a certain blonde.” He winked.

Emma chuckled. Then she went closer to him and sat down on the side of his bed, trying not to cause him any more pain. She looked him straight in the eye, and then, gently, she took his hand in hers, intertwining her fingers with his. She saw him swallow hard, and the beeping of his heartbeat accelerated on the monitor. She smiled softly again. “Thank you for saving my son’s life.”

She saw how he wet his lips before answering as if his mouth had been suddenly dry. “It was the right thing to do.” Was his answer, but his voice came out slightly choked.

Emma looked back, checking if any hospital employee was nearby, “I shouldn’t be here, and unfortunately my time is running out. But I wanted to see you... needed to see with my own eyes that you are ok... well, more or less.” She whispered, with her gaze lowered, avoiding eye contact. The physical connection of their joined hands was already arousing too many contradictory emotions inside her.

“Aye. I know the feeling.” He replied, letting her know that he had been eager to establish contact with her throughout his stay in the hospital.

At those words, she stared at him again. “Get well soon.” She bent down and dropped a mild kiss at the corner of his lips. “We need you.”

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~·~·~·~

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Killian was lying on his back staring at the ceiling. This time there was no way he would fall asleep again. Every time he thought about what had just happened his beeping monitor sped up. He blushed. It had been just a chaste kiss, nothing compared to the hot and breathtaking one they had shared a few days before. But she had said it had been a one-time thing and he had promised himself not to indulge in those lustful thoughts anymore. Yet, this last kiss had seemed much more real, and meaningful... it had left him with a feeling of hope.

Hope and distress. Emma was such a strong and beautiful woman, a marvelous creature, as he liked to describe her in his mind, and a princess even. And what was he? A rebel, and a scoundrel. Or a rapscallion... whatever. Okay, maybe not anymore, but he had been in the past, for many years. He had been trying to redeem himself lately. But was he worth enough of her? That was the million dollar question.

He was still ruminating on it when the known brunette peeked out the curtains. “Hello. How are you today?” She greeted him with a bright smile, as usual.

“Better.” He hoped the monitor on his right wasn’t showing his state of mind.

She came closer. “Do you mind if I check your ribs? It's time to change the dressing.” After a short pause, she added, “I'm sorry, but we don't have the best equipment to assist our patients. We have to work with what we have available on this planet.” She said pointing to the bands that covered his chest.

Killian nodded, and Mary Margaret started to untie the bandages. She seemed concentrated on her task, probably she was trying to avoid causing him any pain. It was only when she started to apply an ointment on the bruises, that she spoke again. “You love her.” It was just a whisper, and Killian doubted if he had heard correctly. But then she added “Emma.”

It wasn’t a question, and he pondered what was the correct answer, or if she was expecting one. “I'd go to the end of the world for her… Or the multiverse.” He said eventually.

“And she for you, I take it?”

Killian chuckled and shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“What’s the problem?” She looked at him surprised. Then took some clean gauzes and started to wrap them on him.

“She's bloody brilliant, an amazing woman. She fights for her son and always does what’s right.” Killian’s voice was so full of admiration.

“Is there something wrong with it?” Mary Margaret inquired.

Killian shook his head again. “She raised the bar very high. The fact is, I don't think I measure up.”

The woman folded the old bandages and took the ointment bottle, then she stood up, she was making an exit when she stopped short. “Since you came here I've been watching you.”

“I don't know if I should be flattered or scared.” The man tried to ease the tension of the moment.

“We don’t have many foreigners on this planet, but believe me, you're not one of the bad guys. You sacrificed yourself for the sake of a young boy. There's good in your heart.” She smiled at him softly. “I’m going to look for the doctor; I bet you’ll be leaving this room soon.”

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~·~·~·~

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The following day started the same as the previous ones. But during the first hours of the evening a man in a white coat came to visit Killian. He explained the medications and precautions to be taken to him, some movements that he should avoid for a while, and other tips for a speedy recovery. Then he handed over some papers for the patient to sign to be discharged. Finally some good news.

After a while redressing and packing up his few belongings in his satchel Killian went to the door. Walking hurt a bit but nothing he couldn’t bear.

Mary Margaret was already waiting for him, and a tall blonde guy was with her. “You must be Jones.” He said. When they shook hands, Killian learned his name was David Nolan, and he remembered Henry had mentioned him in his conversations. “I’m going to take you to our humble abode.”

Nolan's house was in fact modest. A loft with a large dining room, a kitchenette, a bedroom, and a small bathroom on one corner, all open, without doors, except for the bathroom. There was a raised bedroom opposite it, whose access was a metal stair.

Dinner was good, if a little awkward. Emma didn't interact much, and Killian wanted to ask if something was troubling her, but he preferred to wait for a better time, perhaps a less crowded one. Henry entertained them with what he had done throughout the day and kept repeating how glad he was that Killian was back with them.

But the man was still a bit cautious with those new people around him. He didn’t know them, especially the Nolan guy, who had been silent for most of the dinner, glancing sidelong at him as if he wanted to study him thoroughly before making a personal judgment. The feeling was mutual, Killian thought.

Just after dessert, David started to speak. “What will you need to restore your ship?” He asked.

“Uh… a new stabilizer, I think, and some parts of the propulsion engine for sure. But I’ll have to look closely at the damages to be sure there’s nothing else broken.”

The blond man nodded. “Not many ships come and go from here. But I hope we can find all the pieces you need.”

“Thank you, mate.”

“Tomorrow I’ll take you to the hangar where your ship is. We’ll have a look at it.” He seemed sincere in his generosity.

“May I help?” Henry barged in.

A chorus of “No!” echoed the room.

“I appreciate the support, but it could be dangerous.” Killian explained.

“I hate being here. I feel trapped.” The boy complained.

Mary Margaret sighed. “This is a feeling that will vanish with time.”

The woman was no doubt trying to instill some optimism, but Killian didn't like the idea of staying in that place longer than necessary. “Well, then, let’s hope we could leave this planet before the feeling has entirely vanished.” He made a grin and passed his hand on his side.

“Time for resting.” The brunette stated although it sounded more like an order. “But before that, we should change those bandages. Emma, would you like to help me?”

“Me?” Emma, who had been silent and a bit on the sidelines all evening, seemed to re-emerge from wherever she’d gone.

“He won’t be able to do it by himself when you won’t live here anymore. It’s better if you learn how to help him.” Mary Margaret clarified.

Emma looked like she was going to object, but in the end, she asserted. “Sure.”

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~·~·~·~

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If a certain nervousness had taken hold of Emma as she climbed to the upstairs room, it disappeared the instant Mary Margaret helped Killian get rid of his shirt. That wasn’t a thorax, it was a nautical chart. Most of it was covered by gauze, but she could still spot many marks and scars.

There was a tattoo, two of them to be exact, but Emma saw just one at first. It was on his right forearm; it was a big red heart with a dagger running through and the name “Milah” across it. Emma made a mental note to ask him later who she was.

Mary Margaret showed her how to unfasten the bandages, and then she ordered her to stand behind him, to help better in removing them all.

On his back, Emma saw the second tattoo, on his right shoulder. It was an old nautical instrument she had read about in a book when she was younger, but she couldn’t remember the exact name. The drawing was beautifully detailed, even if it had faded, it was probably older than the other one, she thought.

And when all the gauze was out of the way, she saw them: tiny, blurred, old scars that studded most of his back. Emma wondered what kind of life he had to endure when he was very young.

Mary Margaret asked her to help with the ointment. She had already opened the bottle and was showing the blonde woman how much cream to use. But Emma wasn't listening, standing now in front of the man, her attention was caught by the glorious chest hair that was covering most of his torso.

Okay, there was also a big, horrible bruise on his right ribs, but Mary Margaret was saying that it seemed on the way to a fast recovery, if the yellow and purple veining was some indication.

Emma was ogling and she wasn’t ashamed of it either. The amount of hair decreased in the lower part of his chest, leaving a black trail that disappeared under the hem of his pants.

"See something you like?" Emma was abruptly taken back to reality by a smug Killian that was smirking at her while arching an eyebrow. She blushed. She was caught red-handed, but she couldn’t let him win. She took advantage of the fact that Mary Margaret was looking for something in a nearby drawer, to get closer to him. She looked at him lasciviously from under her lashes. “Maybe?” She purred.

Now it was his time to blush, he looked intently at his feet, but she found the bright red that appeared on his ears extremely endearing. Point for Emma.

Mary Margaret taught the other woman how to fix the bandages, and Emma had to use some tiny hooks to hold them together. She did not miss the opportunity to casually slide her fingers over a part of his chest hair that came out of the bandages.

“Bloody Hell!” Killian muttered.

Emma retreated her hand immediately. “Sorry. Did I hurt you?” Worries that she had done something wrong clouded her gaze.

“Apologies.” Killian was scratching behind his ear, in evident embarrassment. “While I do enjoy two lovely ladies attending to my needs, I'm not used to someone taking care of me…” He smiled and brought his mouth close to Emma’s ear: “I’m usually the one who devotes full attention to a woman’s needs.” He whispered, but clearly not as quietly as he would have liked, because Mary Margaret's answer - “Well, you will have to put that off for a while” - made him blush again like a schoolboy scolded by his teacher.

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~·~·~·~

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Suddenly it was bedtime. Everyone was busy making preparations and taking shifts for the bathroom to change for the night. Killian was upstairs, staring at the bed he knew he had to share with Emma, who was arranging a pillow on the nearby sofa. He passed a hand through his hair and then scratched a spot behind his right ear. “I'll crash on that couch.” He stated as if it was the most logical conclusion to a battle he was fighting inside.

“Don't be ridiculous,” she scoffed. “It's barely long enough for Henry. Plus, you’re still recovering, you absolutely need to rest.”

He didn't seem very convinced. “Emma, I'm not sure this is a good idea.”

“And why is that?” Was her exasperated reply, turning towards him with her hands on her hips. “What are you going to do? Seduce me with a couple of broken ribs and a ten-year-old boy sleeping next to us?”

He lifted his arms and surrendered. “Fair point.” He conceded.

In no time they were all ready for the night and Henry was snoring softly on the sofa. Killian was supine, staring at the ceiling and thinking about the events of the day. In any case, sleep had no intention of coming, but he tried not to move. He didn’t want to wake up his roommates. Emma was lying close with her back to him and he didn’t know if she was already in the arms of Morpheus.

He turned his head to observe how her upper body moved with the rhythm of her breathing, blond curls covering her shoulders. Killian had to repress the urge to touch them. And as if responding to his call, she stirred and turned to face him.

Her eyes opened lazily. “Still awake?” She murmured.

“I have the feeling that I’ve slept enough for the rest of my life.” He whispered. “But you can’t rest either, I see.”

She didn’t answer.

Perhaps it was the closeness, perhaps it was the fact that they had spent the last few days apart. Killian didn't know how he found the courage, but he lifted his left arm as an invitation. “Come here,” he said.

She seemed to ponder the situation, chewing her bottom lip. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

He decided not to think about all the possible implications of that sentence. He was falling in love with her, he was aware of it. Probably the simple doubt that she might not reciprocate was already hurting him, but he knew that at that moment she was referring only to his physical bruises. “You won’t.”

She slipped under the sheets towards him, resting her head gently on his left shoulder and placing a hand on his chest, avoiding the bruised part. Not many minutes passed before her lids grew heavy and she dozed off to the rhythm of his heartbeats. Killian placed a soft kiss on her forehead.