#nothing really happened to me but it reminded me of how helpless i am as a person vs the world and i hate being helpless

[qqqqqqqqqqq0]

i did a thing

[naamahdarling]

Two days ago and I was comfortable enough that this was the right choice that I was able to make the call to have Smooch put to sleep. I am sure now. I wish I weren't. It hurts to see him like this. The vet is out or I would move it forward. We could do the emergency vet but I literally do not think I could do it without our vet and my favorite nurse. That feels selfish but when she answered the phone yesterday the comfort was... astonishing.

I'm trying to prepare. I've been waiting for this for a long time, which is why it's bearable at all. I have entertainment, I have an art project to memorialize him ready to go for whenever I feel like it. I have plans to make a couple of keepsakes. But there's going to be a hole in my life so much bigger than his frail little body. It's the end of part of me. He has been there in my future for so long, thinking about not having him there is like vertigo, or a reverse haunting of some kind. It's a Wrongness, part of the world about to be unmade. He is genuinely part of my identity. I'm all these things that I consider core parts of me -- queer, funny, creative, curious, a little clever, loving, an artist, a survivor, my friends' friend, my blood sister's sister, my chosen sister's sibling, my father's daughter, my boyfriend's partner...and I'm Dried Pickle Man's person.

Here at home IRL and online, and everywhere I go, to almost anyone I speak to at all, I have been his human for 13 years and 27 days.

And that isn't enough apparently, because Sid, too, is slipping away. I...I don't know that we can save him, either. His digestive issues are keeping him from eating, we can't stop the flare, a feeding tube won't fix it, meds aren't helping him. He's losing weight very fast. Vet is at a loss. I usually have a pretty good idea of what to do next or what needs to happen. I have nothing for him. The specialist might know. How the hell do we keep affording it?

And Raleigh. Oh god. Raleigh. If we can't afford the surgery or if it fails. What do we do?

What if we lose all three?

What if my boyfriend loses BOTH his boys? Raleigh alone is going to devastate him. Not just sad, like ordinary grief, I mean I have never ever in my life seen an animal love a human this much.

He's already struggling with his depression and ADHD. He will suffer and there is nothing I can do to stop this all from happening. I can't dig into a hidden well of trying harder, I can't outsmart it. I can't comfort him by saying that it is hard but possible to influence this. I hate seeing him in pain.

And I'm scared for me. I am afraid it will just ruin him and I will lose him too, until and unless he can recover. And I already spend so much time alone. Even my art is...gone. Too painful. Writing isn't really possible, either. My body barely feels like mine these days. I have so fucking little to hang on to. My cats are one of the last things I have of myself. One of the only good things I have in my day to day life.

It's all an absolutely terrifying cascade. Unlike a lot of situations where I'm scared of the future, this isn't me afraid of unlikely scenarios that are several crises away. This is very real. And I'm usually not scared for my boyfriend like this.

It won't kill us. You can come back from something like this, probably, I know people survive much worse and I'm bombarded with reminders of that a dozen times a day. But it can take such a long time to come back, and...sometimes you just...Come Back Wrong.

I'm not often genuinely completely helpless. I am helpless now.

[hungermakesmonsters]

(Once Bitten) Twice Shy

Chapter Seventeen

Plot summary : Desperate to get away from your controlling family, you take a job in New York as a wealthy vampire's blood source. A million dollars awaits if you can make it through a year, but life with Billy Russo is not going to be as simple as you think.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R  Chapter Rating : PG

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Nothing too warning worthy, just some really creepy vibes at the end. All chapters will contain mentions of blood. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : 4.5k

A/N : happy fic-friday!

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR | CHAPTER FIVE | CHAPTER SIX | CHAPTER SEVEN | CHAPTER EIGHT | CHAPTER NINE | CHAPTER TEN | CHAPTER ELEVEN | CHAPTER TWELVE | CHAPTER THIRTEEN | CHAPTER FOURTEEN | CHAPTER FIFTEEN | CHAPTER SIXTEEN

MASTER LIST

Chapter Seventeen

You sat in silence, too paralysed by fear to think rationally. There were things you knew you should be doing, like looking out of the window and trying to figure out where you were and, perhaps more importantly, where you were going. But, really, what did it matter? You’d always known that it would come down to this, that you’d end up his prisoner and, now, you knew for certain that no one was going to save you.

Your eyes drifted to the rear window, not looking at him, not even acknowledging his existence. 

The streets of New York all looked the same at night; all bright lights and crowds of people. The only thing you could tell was that you didn’t seem to be leaving the city. Somehow that made things worse, knowing that you were still so close to Billy but you might as well have been a million miles away. 

And, suddenly, despite your situation, Billy was all you could think about. He was probably at Josie’s by now, he’d probably realised that you were gone and that he’d never see you again. He was probably so angry.

“You’ll soon get tired of giving me the silent treatment,” he stated with a confidence that made you sick to your stomach, “but I’m not going to rush you. I have patience and we have the rest of forever.”

Forcing a breath, you tried everything you could to keep a blank face and not give into the scared helplessness that was filling you. Your gaze remained focused on the window and the streets you’d been so excited to explore only a few weeks ago. 

A sense of claustrophobia took hold the moment the limo turned into an underground parking structure, darkness filling the car and making you feel more trapped than ever. Then the car stopped.

You didn’t move, didn’t even tear your eyes away from the window.

Until he reached for you.

His cold hand on yours caused you to flinch and pull away, only to find fingers tightly gripping your good wrist.

“You’re going to behave for me,” he told you, the slightest hint of annoyance seeping into his tone.

“Or what?”

You weren’t sure what came over you in that moment but you were just as surprised by your sudden snap as he was.

“Do I have to remind you what will happen to your family?” He asked, leaning closer, gripping tighter. “Or maybe I should remind you what I’m capable of...”

“You don’t scare me anymore, Mr Drake,” you answered back, his name spat from your mouth like venom despite knowing you were only making things worse. 

“Please, you should call me Justin since you’re going to be my wife,” he offered with a smile that made you feel ill. “And you should be scared of what could happen if you try to refuse me again.”

“Am I supposed to care what happens to my parents after they sold me to you?”

You didn’t expect the laugh that followed, a sound that caused the dread in your stomach to continue to build.

“And what about Irene? You still care about her, right?”

The sound of your sister’s name on his lips was almost enough to cause your heart to stop. It was a lie, it had to be. She’d been gone for years, no one knew where she was or how to find her.

“You’re lying.” You decided to call his bluff.

He let go of your arm to reach into his pocket and pull out his phone. A moment later you felt bile rise in the back of your throat at the picture he showed you. It had been years since you’d seen her, but there was no mistaking that it was your older sister. The sickening feeling only continued to increase as he started to swipe through pictures; pictures of a family, of two young children and a telltale bump on her belly.

“If you’d prefer I could take what’s owed me from her instead, along with your nephews and your unborn niece.” He put the phone away, no longer needing it to threaten you. He’d made his point.

“You’re a monster.”

He laughed again.

“Oh, darling, you have no idea.” He leaned to open the door and then gave a wave of his hand, indicating that he wanted you to move. “It’s up to you whether we do this the easy way or the hard way.”

For a few seconds you remained completely still, defiant.

Then you moved.

What choice did you have? You knew he could bend you to his will if he wanted to, you knew he could hurt you and those closest to you. More than that, you knew that you were completely alone. No one was going to look for you. No one was coming to your rescue.

“Good choice,” you heard him mutter as he followed you out of the limo.

You bristled at the touch of his hand against your lower back, guiding you towards the elevator but you moved regardless, knowing better than to think you could outrun a vampire in the gloomy parking lot.

The elevator doors slid shut, trapping you with him and his driver, watching as he swiped a key card for the penthouse floor. Your heart lurched along with the elevator and, despite wanting to remain steely and unphased by the situation, you found yourself pulling your arms across your chest.

It was only then that you realised your suitcase was nowhere to be seen. Try as you might, you couldn’t remember what had happened to it. It had been with you when you left Josie’s but then you’d walked into Krista and -

And after that, everything was hazy.

“Where are my things?” You asked. “I had a suitcase.”

“Gone. You don’t need it,” he answered.

Your chest tightened, squeezing out a breath. Your eyes fixed forward, unblinking, not wanting to show him how upset you were. You weren’t bothered about your things, about your purse or phone, but your heart was breaking over the stuffed beagle that meant so much to you, the last little piece of Billy that you had.

“I want it,” you demanded defiantly. 

“Why?” He asked, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“Because it’s mine. If you want me to stay here and not cause problems, then you need to find it.” You glared at him as he spoke, as if there was really anything you could do to hurt him. 

He seemed disinterested but shrugged before giving his driver a glance. The man nodded, understanding his orders without a word even passing between them. Though, by now, you knew it was probably too late. You’d probably never see Bill the Beagle again.

As he led you into the penthouse suite, his driver disappeared back into the elevator, but you weren’t so naive as to think that you were alone with him. He’d have his goons somewhere near, in case he needed them. If you wanted to even think about trying to get away from him again, you were going to have to bide your time.

Your stomach dropped when you were led into a bedroom. You lingered in the doorway, leaving as much space between you and him as you could and, of course, he noticed.

“There’s no need to be shy,” he told you, barely holding back a smirk.

“I’m not being shy,” you answered back. 

His gaze darkened.

“I can’t say that I like this new attitude you seem to have developed. I can see now why William Russo had to resort to physical means to keep you in line,” he stated, gesturing at your broken arm.

“You don’t know anything about Billy,” you snapped through gritted teeth.

“Oh, Billy is it?” He asked, looking at you like he could look right through you, like he could tell every little thought in your head, and he didn’t like what he saw. “Got close to him, did you?”

You felt your cheeks start to burn while your hands clenched to fists at your side, and he noticed it all.

“More than that?” He asked, though he didn’t need to hear an answer. “You’re lucky I’m not a jealous man, otherwise I might have taken it out on poor dear Billy. But, then, why should I be jealous of a vampire who likes to play with his food?” 

“You know nothing about it or him.”

“Oh, I know plenty,” he answered back. “Enough to know that he’ll have a new girl in his employ, bleeding for him by the end of the week and probably in his bed just as quick, just like he replaced your friend Krista...”

You shook your head, insolent, even though some part of you wondered if he was right. Perhaps Lissa had already put out an advertisement for your replacement.

But you weren’t given time to linger on the thought. He closed the distance between you, his cold fingers grasping your chin, turning your head one way and then the other as he inspected your neck.

“Did he bite you?” He asked and you stayed silent, so he resorted to threats. “Do I have to strip you and check for myself?”

The threat was enough to break you. “No. He didn’t bite me.”

“Good. Now get changed out of those clothes, so we can have supper and discuss our future together.” A wave of his hand led your gaze to an outfit that had been set out for you on the bed.

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

“Why didn’t she tell me?” Billy asked as if he thought Karen might have some magic answer to explain everything that was going on.

She’d explained about Madani, about the questions the Homeland agent had about Billy, as well as the warning that she’d offered outside the hospital. But she only knew what you had shared with her and the little that Madani had been willing to say, and it wasn’t a lot. 

And it certainly wasn’t enough for Billy.

“I don’t know, I guess because she didn’t believe it, she didn’t think it was worth worrying you with it,” Karen offered, lifting her glass and taking a slow drink.

Billy and Frank had asked around, hoping someone had seen you while Karen called Madani, but the most they got was from a drunk who thought you might have gotten into a limousine with friends. By the time they sat to wait for the Homeland agent, Billy was crawling out of his skin.

“And you’re sure she didn’t believe it?” He asked, again trying to get an answer that he knew Karen couldn’t possibly know.

“Well, she saw Krista, didn’t she?” Frank offered. “Hard to think you killed someone who’s still walkin’ around.”

“But, what if -” he started and stopped as Karen dared to reach across the table, placing a hand on his arm.

“Billy, she didn’t leave because she thought you’d done something wrong,” she offered.

“No, she left because I’m like... this...”

Frank bristled at his side but didn’t say anything, though Karen could tell just how much effort it took for him to bite his tongue. She’d seen them have that argument before, and she’d been the one left to console Frank afterwards.

“We’ll find her, Billy,” Karen tried again, pulling back her hand.

“I just -” he started but stopped the moment he noticed a woman in a suit approaching them, eyeing him with very obvious suspicion.

Karen’s eyes followed Billy’s, and she quickly stood up.

“Agent Madani.”

“Ms Page,” she greeted Karen before uncomfortably eyeing Billy and Frank.

“Something’s happened and we need your help,” Karen tried to explain, waving a hand, trying to get Madani to sit. 

Between the three of them, they explained what had happened as far as they knew, up to the point where they found your suitcase on the sidewalk. An uncomfortable silence fell while Madani took it all in.

“How can you be sure she didn’t just abandon it?” Madani asked, glancing at the case.

“She wouldn’t do that,” Billy answered, his hand resting on the stuffed beagle. “Why would she leave her phone and purse?”

Madani looked at him for a few moments, saying nothing.

“And how do I know that any of this is true?” She finally asked. “How do I know that this isn’t some elaborate ruse? How do I know she isn’t dead somewhere and all of this is to stop me from asking questions later on?”

“I didn’t kill her. I haven’t killed anyone. I -” Billy started to snap.

“Bill,” Frank warned, silencing him.

“You’ve got a badge, right?” Karen asked. “The store across the street has got a security camera pointed at the street, you can take a look at the last hour and see if we’re telling the truth or not.”

Frank struggled to fight back a grin, nudging Karen with his elbow, impressed with her. Madani on the other hand, seemed a little less enthusiastic. 

“It’s not that simple, I’d need a warrant, and -”

“We don’t have time -” Karen started.

“Fuck this,” Billy muttered, getting to his feet.

Frank followed suit. “What’re you doin’, Bill?” 

“I’m going to get the security footage myself,” he answered.

“Hey, if you think I’m going to sit back while you commit a crime -” Madani was on her feet a second later.

“The more time we waste, the harder it’s going to be to find her,” Billy snapped. “And I’m not going to lose her. You can either help or you can stay out of my way, but I’m warning you, Agent Madani, I’m not someone you want as an enemy.”

Without another word, he started towards the door, Madani and Frank following after while Karen opted to hang back with your suitcase.

Billy made his way across the street, not caring if he was followed; he was determined to find out what happened, with or without help. With the way he was feeling, he’d tear the store owner apart if he even tried to get in his way. And Frank seemed to realise that. It was why he didn’t let Billy get more than a few feet ahead of him.

And Madani followed because she was almost hoping that he’d do something to prove her right about him.

“How we doin’ this then?” Frank asked just outside the little corner store, stopping Billy in his tracks. 

“That’s up to Agent Madani,” Billy answered, glaring at the Homeland agent.

For a few seconds she looked at the two vampires, hating that she was being put on the spot but realising that there was nothing that she could do to stop them from looking at the footage one way or another.

“Fine, wait here,” she answered, as she moved to step past Billy.

“What? If you think I’m -” Billy was silenced by Frank’s hand on his shoulder.

Madani waited for a beat before entering the store alone.

The bell over the door chimed, signalling her arrival to the young guy behind the counter who looked up from his phone for a split-second before dropping his gaze again. Madani strode towards the counter, reaching into her jacket for her badge and ID. For a few seconds she didn’t say anything, instead she listened to the faint sounds coming from the assistant's phone.

‘If vampire’s keep taking all the wealth and making it so honest, hard working humans can’t find a decent job that pays a decent wage -”

She cleared her throat, having heard all she needed to. Anti-vampire sentiment was still widespread and there were plenty of online commentators willing to try to make a quick buck from it, and in this situation, it was something she could use to her advantage.

“Agent Madani, Homeland Security,” she stated. The kid looked ready to shit himself at the sight of her badge. “I’m going to need to see the CCTV footage from the front of the store for the last couple of hours.”

“I -” for a moment he struggled to find the words, “- I think I’d need to ask my boss.”

“Is he here right now?”

“No, he lives in Jersey...”

Madani let out a sigh, letting the kid see her frustration.

“Listen, I’ll level with you, I’m tracking a dangerous vampire,” she told him and saw a flicker of anger on his face. “I think they’ve hurt a lot of people, a lot of young women about your age...”

“Fucking bloodsuckers,” he muttered.

“If I could see that footage, I might be able to catch him and, if I do...” she shrugged, “well, there’d be nothing to stop you from posting the whole thing online. I hear you can make a lot of money with stuff like this.”

Madani could practically see dollar signs lighting up behind his eyes. At any other time it might have bothered her just how easily influenced the kid was, but time was of the essence and she needed to know if Russo was lying to her. 

“Yeah, okay,” the kid relented, “it’s in the back here.” 

He gave a quick glance around the store, making sure it was still empty before showing her into the backroom. The set up was hardly state of the art, but it was easy enough to use - in fact, she’d used several similar systems in the past, so it didn’t take her long to scrub through the video and find the exact moment that you left Josie’s. The picture quality wasn’t brilliant and the poor lighting on the street didn’t help, but you were easy enough to spot with your suitcase.

Madani watched as someone deliberately stepped into your path before taking you by the arm and leading you towards a waiting limousine. She managed to get half of the licence plate of the limo and snapped a quick photo of the blurry figure with her phone while the kid’s back was turned, then she stood.

“Is it on there?” He asked.

“No,” she answered, forcing another sigh, “looks like the bastard managed to slip by just out of range of the camera.”

His disappointment was palpable.

“But that isn’t to say that he won’t come back,” Madani offered, “so it’d be best if you didn’t mention this to anyone, otherwise you might spook him and... well, I wouldn’t want to see you charged with obstruction after you’ve been so helpful.” 

He nodded and she didn’t waste any time in making her excuses to get out of there.

Billy was pacing by the time she stepped back outside, both men seemed to be engaged in a heated debate about something, and it looked as though Russo was on the losing end of it.

“All I’m sayin’ is -”

“What did you find out?” Billy asked, ignoring Frank and quickly refocusing all of his attention on Madani.

“I’m not sure,” Madani stated, pulling out her phone, “she left the bar and someone met her outside before leading her to a limousine. There wasn’t a struggle but... something didn’t seem right...”

“You think someone was compellin’ her?” Frank asked.

“Maybe. I can’t be sure. I got a partial plate and I’m going to call in some favours to run it, see if I can figure out who owns the limo and where it went,” Madani explained before holding up her phone to the men, showing the blurry image she’d captured. “But, while we wait, we should try to figure out who this is.”

“Fuck,” Billy grit out almost instantly.

“Goddamnit,” Frank let out a second later.

“Well, that was quicker than expected. Care to fill me in?” Madani asked.

“I knew I should’ve killed her,” Billy muttered, forcing an uneven breath, struggling to stay in control of himself.

“It’s Krista Dumont, alive and well, and still pissin’ everyone off,” Frank answered, though his gaze stayed on Billy. “You went lookin’ for her, right, Bill? Know where she might be now?”

“Yeah, I know where she lives,” Billy answered, his attention quickly turning to Madani. “You wanted to know what happened to my previous employees, right? Well, you’re about to find out.”

Without another word, he started moving back towards where he’d left his car. Frank and Madani quickly followed after, the latter on her phone calling in those favours to try and track down the limo.

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

You were finally left alone to change, though you spent at least five minutes searching the room, looking for anything that might help you escape. As much as you’d felt resigned to this eventuality, just being around him again had panic and dread gnawing at your insides. You had to get away.

The first thing you did was check the windows, despite already knowing that you were too high up to even consider it an option. In fact, the penthouse suite was so high up that the people on the street below seemed like ants.

Next thing you checked was the room’s phone by lifting it to your ear. No dial tone. No cord connecting it to the wall. If you could get a cord from one of the other phones in the suite, you might be able to call for help. You filled away the thought for later. 

Then you checked the drawers and the wardrobe, feeling sick to your stomach when you found several outfits that were obviously for you. They looked like the sort of clothes your mother would have picked for you and not at all like the outfits you’d enjoyed wearing over the last six months. Even the dress he’d laid out on the bed for you felt uncomfortably conservative - though you supposed you should be glad he wanted you to dress that way.

Shaking your head you tried to force the thought away and concentrate on finding things that might be helpful. 

Wooden hangers could perhaps be turned into weapons but... well, that was a line you didn’t want to think about crossing until you really had to.

“Dinner is here,” you heard his voice from behind the door. “Unless you want me to come in there and dress you myself, I suggest you hurry up.” 

As much as you wanted to be stubborn, as much as you wanted to cause him as much trouble as possible, the sorry fact of the matter was that you were scared. And you had every reason to be scared. So, you gave up your search and quickly changed into the clothes that he had left for you and stepped out into the suite.

The main room was lit by lamps, creating a romantic glow that made you feel sick.

Instead of looking at him and the table, you glanced around the room, taking note of where the phone was and how close the door was. But your host seemed to realise what you were doing.

“Sit,” he ordered, pulling out a chair at the table.

You made a point of walking around him and taking a different seat.

“You’re starting to test my patience,” he remarked, taking his own seat. 

“Already?” You remarked off-handedly, reminding him of the comment he’d made not two hours ago in the limo.

“Did Billy Russo let you talk back like this?”

“He never gave me a reason to,” you answered without hesitation, despite knowing it wasn’t strictly true.

He gave a grunt of irritation before uncovering your food. You looked down at the plate, your lips curling at the sight; tuna steak and salad. While he started to eat, you simply stared down at the plate. Even though you knew you’d never see him again, let alone bleed for him, the thought of eating anything from his list of prohibited foods. It took Justin Drake  a minute to realise that you weren’t eating, and then came the frustrated sigh.

“Are you going to fight me on everything?” He asked.

“I don’t eat tuna.”

“Since when?”

“Since I decided I don’t like it.”

“Then eat the salad,” he snapped.

You took small consolation in the fact that you were already getting to him, showing him that you were going to be far more trouble than you were worth but, again, you knew better than to push too far too soon. He could hurt you. He would hurt you if he felt like it. 

Reluctantly, you began to pick at the salad with your fork, silently wondering if you’d be able to sneak any of the cutlery away from the table.

You ate in silence, neither speaking until you were both done. He’d poured you a glass of wine, but it had been left mostly untouched and, thankfully, he hadn’t thought to order dessert.

“Tomorrow we’ll be travelling home,” he informed you. “The wedding is being arranged as we speak and, by this time next week, you’ll be my wife, so you should rid yourself of any childish notions of escaping or denying me.”

“I won’t marry you.”

“Yes you will.”

“Why? Why any of this? Why me?” You asked, anger quickly starting to bubble over. “I’ll never stop fighting you, I’ll never be yours. How is any of this worth it to you?”

He just laughed at that, sitting back in his chair and lifting his wine glass to his lips, taking a slow drink before even thinking to answer you.

“Because it’s fate.”

“What?” Had you heard him correctly? Had he called it fate?

“It was never about the money - that was just to keep your parents in line - it’s always been about you, my sweet girl.” He continued to smile as your skin started to crawl. “I knew I had to have you the first time I set eyes on you.”

Your stomach continued to churn and tie itself in knots as you thought how long ago that must have been.

“Why?” You dared to ask even though you were terrified of how he might answer.

“You look just like your great-great-great-grandmother.” He paused as if he was expecting you to say something but the shock had rendered you silent. “She was like you, she refused me what should have been mine, and she paid the price.”

It felt like your blood had turned to ice in your veins, not sure exactly what he was telling you, but not wanting to ask for clarification either. You remained silent, wondering how long he’d been tormenting your family like this and if you were the first to find yourself in this situation with him. 

“I always regretted it, once she was gone I mean. I should have handled things differently, but I was young back then, barely past my first century...” he sounded almost wistful, like he was recounting a fond memory. “But then I found you. And I won’t make the same mistake twice. You will bend to my will. You will be my wife in every sense of the word and, when you’ve finally accepted your place at my side, I will give you the greatest gift imaginable.”

You didn’t have to ask to know what he was implying.

“No,” your head shook. “I don’t want to be a vampire.”

“My sweet girl, what makes you think you have a choice?”

End Note : ... I'm not even sorry about ending it like that, I'm having too much fun getting things ready for the final confrontation. I think that there's probably only two more chapters left of this one now (depending on how carried away I get with the next part), so I hope you all enjoy what I've got planned. Also I'm sorry I picked that name for the bad guy...

As ever, thank you so much for reading/liking/reblogging/screaming at me in the comments! Have a great weekend!!

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters! If tagging doesn't work for some reason (aka Tumblr being dumb) I post most Fridays around 7:30 gmt.

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[the-s1lly-corner]

If you could indulge me, can I ask for something with The Amazing Digital Circus gang, with an s/o who is seen as an anchor for the others? They are strong willed, happy go lucky, supportive, a mediator and ect. Well, could they stumble upon their s/o just having an episode, just crying in frustration and like punching a wall to calm down and go back to acting like nothing happened?

I have a thing with strong willed characters hiding their weakness for the benefit of others.

TADC cast x emotional anchor!reader !

oh ho ho you silly lil fella, you have literally just described my TADC oc down to a T, i am going to have so much fun writing this because im literally just. going to use my oc as a place holder for the reader, just without describing any lore bits unique to them and their design ngl i think i went insane with this one, tally hall music is doing something to me

CAINE:

if you thought you were good at hiding your human despair just know that caine already knows. the only reason i feel he wouldnt initially come to you in your lesser moments of weakness is that he can acknowledge that youre trying to hide this part of you. does he go comfort you, and risk making you try harder to surpress your feelings; risking you to just blow up one day and have your mental state just totally collapse in one go? would you feel put off at the knowledge that in this world you never really have full privacy? that definitely wouldnt make you feel any better. but when it gets to the point where you're screaming and crying in your room and punching the walls he would step in. drags you away from the walls, and if he has to this man will restrain you if it means making sure you stop swinging. hes seen the downfall of many people within the circus, but seeing it from someone he so deeply cares for hits a different way. he may be an AI, but he can still simulate feeling. its a harrowing sensation as he lets you cling onto him. i think he makes an effort to make in house adventures less overwhelming and intense, too scared to push you over the edge but also too scared to leave you with nothing to do to distract you. i think he would stay with you for the night, too

POMNI:

as selfish as it sounds, pomni cant help but feel.. something in her chest. seeing you, the groups beacon of light falter fills her with some kind of fear and despair that she cant put into words. it reminds her that no one is above helplessness, and that at the end of the day youre just as capable of abstracting as everyone else. i think, when she finally sees your fake demeanor finally slip when you thought you were totally alone, she feels bad. i mean shes your partner, and she didnt pick up on any hints that may have indicated your true state of health. i dont think she would try to force you to speak, as much as i want to say that she would try to push for you to talk about how you feel i think her attempts to reach out to you would fall on deaf ears. i think she would put her hand on your shoulder, making you jump back to the present moment. its an awkward gesture, with the jester herself being a little lost with these new feelings... i think you two would just sit in silence

JAX:

similar to pomni, he feels this intense and unexplainable pang at the sight of the most hopeful and brightest person in the circus crumble. ive already said it but ill say it again, its like being splashed with cold water, with how hard that sinking cold feeling hits him. makes half hearted attempts to cheer you up. its not that he doesnt care, its that hes stuck in the shock of seeing the happiest person he knows flip into... this.. for a split second he thought you were abstracting, that pit his stomach becoming colder for a second before he realizes whats going on. ive said this before as well, but jax is not the best comforter, in fact i think he might be one of the worst out of the main cast. but i think so far for the characters ive written for this post, he makes an effort to try to pull you up out of your hole. at least he lets you cry your feelings out, and he wont make you feel bad for doing so

RAGATHA:

stands there in shock like pomni, before immediately rushing to your side and tugging you away from a coat stand you were kicking and beating. hands on your shoulders she tries to snap you back to the present moment, trying to tell you that shes here. any feelings of the helplessness that she shares with the previous two characters is shoved down. this isnt about her, its about you. runs her fingers through your hair, if your digital body has any, and just. rocks you. when you finally calm down enough to be able to form clear words, she reassures you once more that shes here for you. the two of you stay in that position, holding onto one another for the entire night. i think it should be said, but for most of these theyre going to try to keep a closer eye on you and make it a point to ask you how youre feeling. ragatha especially.

KINGER:

it reminds him of queenie. the sight brings back so so so many terrible memories. for a second he doesnt even register that hes standing in the present, standing in your doorway. stuck and frozen for a solid minute before you finally notice him, and you hold each others gaze. finally, you crumble. what was the point of hiding your mounting anguish now that it was discovered by the one you care for most? at the sight of your crumpled form i think kinger would snap back, and rush to your side. he's pause, afraid that you would abstract like the queen, before forcing himself to push through that fear in the back of his mind. a moment where he is not fumbling with himself or shaking; be it because he wants to be there for you or perhaps he still holds some guilt aimed towards himself for not being able to save his old queen, he refuses to leave your side even if you tell him to leave. theres this caution in his actions, mixed with this sort of determination to make sure you're okay. like ragatha, he would make it a point to make sure you're okay long after this incident

ZOOBLE:

zooble would probably be the only one who doesnt make their presence known to you while you're in that state. not because they wont care about you, in fact they care about you a lot. but theyre so unsure of what to do, that they give to you what they would have wanted for themselves, if they were in your shoes. they want to grant you privacy, and to at least keep a shred of the now ruined façade you had been putting on for everyone. if it means keeping it will give you comfort, then they wont take that away from you. they wait outside your door, waiting for the height of your episode to pass before cracking the door open. they dont say anything about what they had just heard, but you seem to know that they know.. i mean they came in so soon after you had calmed yourself down enough.

"are you okay?" a dumb question, but what else was there for them to say? you so obviously werent okay, and you likely werent for a long time. they offer to leave, to give you some time to pick yourself back up, but they also make it clear that they wont go anywhere if you dont want to be alone. the night is tense and awkward, filled with conversation before they eventually broach the topic... i think you guys would develop some sort of secret code. i mean youve been hiding your true feelings for so long, and outwardly saying you need help would compromise that mask you put up for yourself. be it a certain sentence or arrangement of objects, you two come up with a indirect way of asking for security

GANGLE:

she feels so helpless, the most out of everyone. she tries to get your attention, but her words fall on deaf ears, if they even manage to pry themselves out of her mouth. far too weak to pull you away and keep you from hurting yourself, but too soft spoken to bark out a word to draw your attention to her. truly, she feels useless. she isnt able to capture your attention until you finally notice her. similar to kingers part, you fall. she takes an unsure step towards you, hands half raised in front of her as she debates if you want to be touched or not. she settles to sitting in front of you, just barely holding eye contact... she looks down when you tear your eyes away from her. finally finding her voice, i think she would ask if you want her to stay, or if you need anything. she tries to word it the best she can, but she lets you know that she doesnt think any less of you for your outburst. it happens to the best of us, really it does. if you want her too, she wraps herself around you and tries to soothe your shaking form

[itevilhag]

those who cling to death live...

joel miller x platonic!reader | joel miller x daughter!reader | joel miller x reader summary: a humorous but sincere talk about death.  warnings: mild angst, hurt/comfort, father-daughter dynamic, mentions of death, FLUFFFFFFF.  word count: 989 a/n: hiiiiiiiiiii, me again! so, this is the thing that I’ve been writing! this was supposed to be a one-shot but i’ve decide to split it into two parts, because i was feeling guilty about not posting anything yet, and i didn’t really want to keep anyone waiting, soooo here it is! hope you enjoy it! . . . "Are you afraid of-" you started to ask, breaking the comfortable silence that settled between you, Joel, who sat right next to you with his rifle in hand, and Ellie, who was curled up by the fire, out cold from the exhaustion of the long trek the three of you took today. "Of you? Yes." Joel interrupts you with a slight grumble in his voice. However, you knew that It held no bite. "Very funny, Joel. I am dying of laughter." you dramatically remarked, sarcasm dripping off your tongue heavily. He only chuckled lightly and shook his head, but gave no further words and continued on with his watch. And given that he hasn’t spoken much to either you or Ellie in the past few days after a group of raiders ambushed you, seeing him crack even the tiniest of smiles or hear a barely there chuckle from your incessant pestering or Ellie’s stupid jokes, you considered it a win. After a beat of silence, with the sounds of crickets chirping and the occasional crackle of the dying fire beside you, you asked again. "Do you know what I'm afraid of?" 

Joel shot you a tired look and sighed before answering. "I don't know, what?" 

"Dying," you answered quietly as your eyes focused on the fire in front of you. In your peripheral, you saw Joel visibly go rigid beside you, and It reminded you of the way Joel's demeanor would change when he heard the crack of twigs in the distance or phantom voices flowing through the air while on a trek or keeping watch at night, the need to protect his young heightening before telling you and Ellie to stay close to him and be more alert. 

He slowly turned his head to look at you, and you took his silence as an encouragement to continue. "We live with death every day, but we know little about it." You thought softly, while Joel listened to you intently. 

"Like, what happens when you die? Is it like sleep? If it is, how do I know I'm dead? And what happens after that? Do I go somewhere, or is it just darkness, and it's like that forever?-" 

"Kid, you're not gonna die." Joel softly assured, and though you appreciate that he tried to soothe your worries, it did little to comfort you, you just had to let it out. 

"I know that! But-" you turned to face Joel, exasperation flowed out of you like a raging river until there was nothing left but a defeated sigh that made its way past your lips. Your shoulders sagged as you continued. "Eventually I will…"   

"And it terrifies you," Joel concluded.

"I know, It's silly," you chuckled humorlessly. "Because I see people die every day," 

The public FEDRA executions. 

The Infected. 

People caught within the crossfire at the QZ because of another Firefly attack. 

Your mother. Your sister.  

As you spoke, Joel noticed you absentmindedly touched your star shaped necklace, before your hand trailed down to your ring which had a spiraling red carnation wrapped around the band. 

"And I know that at some point it'll come for me too. I shouldn't be scared of it, but then I see the fear in their eyes-" 

"Please don't kill me. Please- NO!" 

The words of a dying man. The man that you had to shoot to save Joel and Ellie from a raider. It wasn't your first kill, but It was the first time you saw the fear of being on the other side of the gun. 

"'Can't even imagine what it feels like…to be out there helpless and alone. Just left with the fact that you're about to go and you can't do anything about it…" 

It broke Joel's heart to see nothing but fear cloud your eyes as they started to glaze over the fire once more. Someone as young as you shouldn't even have to think about death so much, despite it being the world you were born in. He felt guilty for having to subject both you and Ellie to the horrors of this world, for making you do something you shouldn't have had to do to save his life. 

"Hey…I'm not gonna let anything happen to you, okay?" His tone is firm, but his words are gentle. A promise that he's going to do whatever it takes to fulfill. 

"You promise?" you asked, your voice quiet.

Joel, without hesitation, said. "I promise." 

"Now get some sleep, kiddo. I'll take it from here." Joel told you while he stood up to adjust his grip on the rifle, probably about to scout the perimeter again. 

"But, I'm taking watch with you." You lightly defended, your brows furrowed in confusion. 

"I'm not hearing it. Go to sleep." And grumpy old Joel was back again. And even though you wanted to fight him on it, exhaustion was catching up to you, so you let him win. Just this once. 

"Fine," you muttered begrudgingly and dragged yourself to your sleeping bag that was placed closer to where the fire and Ellie were. You wiggled into your sleeping bag, trying to get comfortable when you called out to Joel without waking Ellie up. 

"But, next time I'm taking full watch." you started as you smoothed down your bag and placed your pistol right next to your head.

 As you settled into the night, a thought popped into your head, which made a small grin grow on your lips. "With your rifle."  

You hear Joel lightly retort in the distance. "You wish."

"Oh, I will. I will wish very hard." 

You heard Joel's barely there chuckle. 

"Yeah, you do that." 

You closed your eyes with a grin on your face as sleep started to guide you into its embrace. 

Joel glances at you and Ellie from where he stands. A familiar warmth settled into his chest as he saw you two sleep peacefully.  

"Goodnight, kiddo."

[i-politely-disagree]

Sprace- Call

MODERN AU TW: Swearing??

(I've never posted on here lol)

Spot cringed as his phone call was answered. Usually, it just went straight to the far too familiar  “Hi it’s Racetrack! Don’t leave a message!” voicemail to hurt him even more with the fact that he was either blocked, or Race was declining all his calls. A harsh ‘What do you want?’ may not have been ideal, but Spot still smiled softly at the sound of his ex’s voice.

"Hey…Race," He started. The same words he had said almost every day a month ago. Throwing his bag down as he got back from work, striking up conversations at 2 a.m even though they both needed to be up early, Starting a call much like this one if anything happened. "Do you still have my white shirt with the sleeves?" 

When Race’s phone displayed Spot’s caller ID, he didn’t know what to expect. Maybe yelling, maybe an explanation that it was a dare, or maybe some tearful confession about how his love never died. Anything with more emotion than requesting an old shirt.

“Um… I’ll look around.” The conversation was too stiff, too formal. Race fiddled with the cuffs of the white shirt that definitely wasn’t Spot’s (it was) that he was wearing and paced around the couch he slept on. 

“What do you need it for?”

He’d never admit it, but Race missed Spot more than he could tell. Hearing his voice again was painful, but something to feel. He had been a mess the last month, living with his best friend, missing sleep and working his ass off to help pay the rent when it was paying the rent that got him into this mess. Spot had walked out after the topic of money had come up, only after many anger-clouded words had been thrown between him and Race. Just thinking about it, Race could taste the regret and adrenaline and feel the knot of codependency tighten as it had done that night when he realized how alone and helpless he was. Even though he hadn’t anticipated a break-up, it wasn’t like Race was expecting-

“A wedding,” Spot answered coldly and quickly. Dwelling on love around him wasn’t going to help him swallow the lump in his throat.

He regretted walking out every day. He knew deep down, that he could’ve walked back in at any moment with nothing fixed, another argument ignored, but weeks passed and Race lost the apartment he could only afford with Spot’s help. Spot lost the one stable thing in his life, the one person he felt like he could talk to, the stupidity, wittiness, energy and affection that came with Race and he missed it more than he was willing to admit. He knew it was his chance to salvage any scraps of a relationship but didn’t know how to begin. 

“I’m sorry.” It was a struggle to force the words out of his mouth, but Spot managed to sound a lot more stable than he felt. 

Race’s reply was so emotionless it hurt. No sadness, not even a quiver in his voice, no hope. Just a bland question reminding Spot he’d made more than enough mistakes;

“About what?” 

“Um, This. Calling you, acting like nothing’s happened, acting like I don’t care.”

There was silence on the other end of the phone and Spot knew he would have to address the elephant in the room.

“...And leaving. I was- I am so stupid for walking out. It sounds pathetic but I didn’t mean any of the things I said. I really lo- I really loved you.” 

Race’s soft smile threatened to fall at the use of past tense.  His mind tried to object, but a smirk tugged at his lips and words crawled out.

“You miss me.”  He observed, a mix of teasing and astonishment now unmistakable in his voice

“No, I just really want my shirt,” Spot said sarcastically, rolling his eyes as if Race could see him over the phone.  “Yes, I fucking miss you.”

Spot hated himself for giving in that easily. But at the same time, he knew lying wasn’t going to get him anywhere or anyone for that matter.

Warm hope bloomed through Race at the less-than-heartfelt confession, sudden longing for the one person he thought he’d never be allowed to long for again. A million hazy emotions flew through his mind but he couldn’t articulate everything he was feeling and couldn’t force every heavy sentiment through the phone. He needed to know this was genuine before pouring his heart out. 

Spot’s finger was over the ‘End Call’ button when Race interrupted their silence, “But you said-”

“I said a lot of things,” Spot cut him off, “We both did. But I’d bet this month's rent you didn’t mean half of it.” 

Race wanted to object, but it was true. He hadn’t meant anything close. And while he prayed to every god that he wouldn’t regret it again, heavy words slid off his tongue;

“I miss you too. But look, we can’t just…go back to whatever we had a month ago.”

“Bad communication and not-yet-healed commitment issues?”

Race exhaled deeply, “Yeah, that. But I can’t- I mean- I’ve got your shirt. Please just come and get it so we can at least talk in person.” 

Spot running down apartment stairs full speed to reunite with his ex-boyfriend was probably something countless medical professionals would advise against but, quite frankly, he was more than willing to break a wrist or two for another shot. He managed a couple of breathless words that were essentially just ‘See you soon’ before falling into his car in a haze of nerves and emotions pretty damn close to excitement. Serious conversations weren’t his forté but were better than a familiar voicemail.

[pippin-pippout]

I just watched MelonTeee's video on Ace and Worth and man the internal debate I have with myself on whether I agree with the choice or not...

Her video explains the fandom's love for the character so well, as well as why the tragedy hit so hard. For me personally I have not been that affected by a character death in a LONG time.

And I understand it from a certain narrative perspective – mainly how Ace's past continues to feature in the story a decade later, and Whitebeard's line that someone would carry Ace's flame, because that clearly describing Luffy. He goes after the mera mera no mi and finishes what Ace started in Wano.

But there are two major narrative reasons given for Ace's death that I disagree with. And are largely why I think it shouldn't have happened, and also why the death has hit me so hard.

This is going to get long, but I would really love to hear everyone's thoughts on it if you choose to read!

To give Luffy the push he needed to be stronger: I am pretty confident this is Oda's stated reason (in addition to Oda wanting to prove he could kill characters which I guess he said at one point and which is bleh given the level of injury a character sustains seems to have nothing to do with whether they die or not lol it's just what the author wants to happen). Anyway. That push already happened on Sabaody when Luffy lost everyone to Duma. He was HELPLESS. More helpless than he was through most of marineford. And when Rayleigh convinces Luffy to do the 2 years training, Rayleigh only brings up their epic defeat on Sabaody. He does not bring up marineford or Ace's death as a reason Luffy needs to get stronger. Because Luffy did not need that reason. The only argument I can think of is that maybe once he landed on Amazon Lily, and he realized the strawhats were likely alive, the terror he felt on Sabaody abated slightly. And therefore maybe he needed a reminder of what "loss" truly is to re-motivate him. However, I don't think that is really fitting with his character or the story.

Ace's dream was fulfilled: Oda has talked about the reason he doesn't kill villains is because not having your dream fulfilled is a worse fate than death. I think part of the tragedy of Ace's death was that his dream wasn't fulfilled. Even for those who accept his last words - that he had only one regret which was not seeing Luffy accomplish his dream - the amount of time he got to live with that dream was literally the last moments of his life. But I don't think just because you die with no regrets, does not mean your dream is fulfilled. Especially when Ace never truly internalized what his dream was. His final choice to turn around showed HOW MUCH he still was that lonely, scared little kid he was at 10 despite his warm smile and his growing family. The most heartbreaking part of the flashback was not Sabo's death. It was watching Ace asking the question "do I deserve to exist?" and giving all his devotion to those who said yes. It was him making the exact same decision he would make 10 years later, to refuse to run, because he felt like if he ran he would lose everything and Luffy was standing behind him. Ace's final words do more than state he has no regrets. He also gives the answer to the question he'd asked Garp, and that Garp had said only his actions could decide. Ace died thanking Luffy and his family for loving him despite the "worthless" or "good for nothing" person he was. Ace was moved to tears to hear his family emphatically saying "YES. You do deserve to live! We want you to live!" But Ace never actually believed it. His last words were a reflection of gratitude for the love he was given that he didn't feel he deserved. And thus his final answer to the question "Do I deserve to exist?" was no.

That he was too "good" This is kind of the most upsetting one I've heard (thankfully not a lot) and also the one easiest to dismiss. Ace, being the actual son of the pirate king, being super powerful, growing in strength and reputation faster than Luffy (debatable), put him narratively in competition with Luffy. What I mean by that is it positions him as too much the golden character, the mary sue, the typical protagonist, when One Piece is about Luffy's story, not Ace's. I disagree with the premise of seeing Ace's character that way. But also even he was "that" character, it's pretty clear Ace's dream would have taken him to becoming Whitebeard's heir - whose dream it was to build a family - while Luffy is Gol D Roger's heir. So Ace's journey would have supported the main story of One Piece and also be narratively satisfying.

---

What Was Ace's Dream?

The dreams Ace stated out loud were more reflections of his actual, deeper dream. "I want to be the king of the pirates" - because he wanted to prove his existence and his worth to the world. Which switched to "I want to make whitebeard the king of the pirates" - because Whitebeard loved him despite his blood, and so even if that wasn't what Whitebeard wanted, it was how Ace understood he could repay Whitebeard.

Both of those stated dreams get back to this question he'd been asking his whole life - that of worth. Worth and Love, which, for Ace's character, are inseparable.

For Ace's dream to truly be fulfilled, it's not enough for him to accept he was loved – which he did on the scaffolds, crying from happiness – he had to believe he was worth that love. He had to love himself.

Ace died with that dream tragically unfulfilled.

---

The Purpose of One Piece

Of course the decision to kill Ace makes the story more realistic and of course it is heartbreaking, tragic, moving, and obviously inspires deeper discussion.

However, what rankled me from when I first learned about his death, which was way before I was even introduced to the character in Alabasta, was that he is the only character of the younger generation (outside of flashbacks) to die.

Honestly when I first heard Ace was one of the only characters to die, I was just worried it would make him seem weaker or stupider than every other character, which is a personal pet peeve of mine. Luckily for most fans, it didn't do that.

Instead, what wound up upsetting me was how it seemed to contradict the purpose of the story that is One Piece (at least what I think the purpose is). In doing so, it opposes the meaning that many fans find in this absurd, ridiculous, inspiring, heartfelt, heroic tale about a boy made of rubber.

One Piece is an escapist story about a boy named Luffy who inspires every good guy he meets to pursue and achieve their dream. It's also about Luffy beating up every bad guy who punishments are that they cannot fulfill their morally reprehensible dreams.

Because of Ace's premature death, he is the only good guy character in the main timeline who does not get to pursue his dream. And what's extra tragic is that he is also one of the most deserving of seeing his dream fulfilled.

[bettathanyou]

The Aftermath Of Being A Hero

Y/N x Cedric, Based on the fanfic "The Master Wand" by @shychick-52

A fanfic of a fanfic, y'all. Based off of @shychick-52 's A03 work, "The Master Wand", AN AMAZING FANFIC IF YOU HAVENT READ IT GO DO IT RIGHT NOW. It's still a work in progress, but after... Certain events, I needed to write something to comfort Cedric cuz my heart hurts too much.

Also, yes, I did spend a stupid amount of time researching 19th century/modern day rib fracture treatment. Also symptoms. For the sake of a fanfic of a fanfic. Sue me!

Anyways enjoy, shout-out to everyone else who read @shychick-52's work and deserves financial compensation.

Warnings: blood mentioned, alluding to injuries, implications of medicinal drug use

The days following Cedric's return back to Enchancia were... A blur, if he's being honest. It still felt surreal that he was back in his tower again, completely untouched from his absence as if it never happened to begin with.

Oh, how Cedric envied it.

Every breath was now a painful reminder of what he endured, and of the vile things he had to do for Sofia's survival. Every shadow felt like a trap waiting to be sprung on the sorcerer, dragging him back in chains that rendered him helpless.

Hell, he can't even look at himself without the evidence of those haunting events written in black and blue bruises across his eye and face.

The entire kingdom hailed him as a hero, again, and the newfound respect Cedric had been given these last few weeks is now "forever immortalized", as King Roland declared.

Cedruc glanced down at the specks of red against his fingers from another coughing fit, grimacing.

Respect was a hell of a price to pay, as he's come to know now.

Not that respect was the main fuel for his actions, anyways. Cedric had long since made peace with dying, if it meant Sofia was safely returned home without a scratch. Truthfully, he couldn't imagine a way to do that without laying down his life, but...

Now Cedric has to deal with the aftermath of being a hero, again, but this time didn't feel nearly as gratifying; if anything, Cedric felt like a fraud.

"...Am I really a hero after doing such awful, terrible things?" Cedric questioned himself, pinching the bridge of his nose. The lingering silence was his only response, of course. Cedric fidgets restlessly, the lack of an answer mirroring the uncertainty stirring in the sorcerer's heart.

Needy for a distraction from his thoughts, along with his broken rib, Cedric takes a drag on his pipe. Each inhale felt like both a blessing and a curse. He knew that smoking with a broken rib wasn't smart, given the breathlessness he's already experienced due to his injuries; but willow bark tea does little to nothing for his pain, and Cedric isn't going to accept whatever brain numbing nonsense, like opium, a doctor would prescribe.

May as well get some relief if I'm damned either way, Cedric thought to himself, shrugging as he takes another hit.

He sputters out the smoke with a fit of short, painful coughs that quickly give rise to wheezing. Cedric's coughing had only gotten worse as he returned home, the restrictive tugging on his chest growing by the day; equally, to the darkening of the bruises and swelling on his left side.

The sorcerer covers his mouth with his sleeve, feeling lightheaded from the struggle to just force oxygen back into his lungs. Tears began to build as he coughed, at first from the physical pain; the stabbing, radiating burn and soft clicking of broken bones felt as if Grimtrix was digging his foot into his side, over and over again.

But what really stole the breath from Cedric's lungs, was the foul tang of his own blood in the back of his throat. The sorcerer can't help but gag; he wasn't squeamish by any means, before the Order. But now, the taste, even the sight of blood was enough to make panic take control of his heart.

Cedric didn't really know when the coughing slowly started to dissolve into weak sobs, but the tears were falling, plip plip plip, as hot and heavy as his own blood from his lips.

His free hand scrambled to hold onto the workshop bench, leaning forward onto it for support until the cough spell faded.

Just as the lanky man was regaining his composure, a knock at his door made Cedric nearly jump out of his skin.

A strangled yelp catches in his throat, and if Cedric wasn't so pissed off at the sudden interruption, he would've been embarrassed by such a noise leaving him.

The sorcerer waves his hand with a soft curse towards the heavy oak door, not having the energy or care to bother greeting whoever it was. Cedric had it made up in his mind that he would just give them what they wanted, then swiftly kick them out again.

He turns to glare at his unwelcome visitor, honestly expecting one of the royal children or a castle staff member.

Before he gets the chance to speak, however, Cedric's mind immediately blanks when his caramel eyes meet yours.

"...I wasn't bothering you too much, I hope?" You offered with a nervous, apologetic smile. Cedric had made it clear that he felt fine enough to resume work like normal, and DIDN'T need any doctor's aid for his injuries, and you wanted to respect his wishes, of course.

Although your own anxiety had won out anyways, which has led you to knocking on the sorcerer's door.

"No, not at all."

Cedric replies with a tight smile, which makes your heart sink.

"I just- wanted to check up on you. I know you said you're fine, but, well... You know me."

You rub the back of your neck as you eye Cedric with a knowing look, which melts his stern face with a tiny smile in reply.

"I'd like to think so, my dear."

He replied back, suppressing the urge to cough as his breath waned. The sorcerer clears his throat, trying to downplay it. You notice how he doesn't really answer

And I know you too, Cedric. You think to yourself after a moment, your eyes leaving his to scan his body properly.

You saw how torn up the sorcerer was when he first returned- despite your pleas to help him, he insisted to be left alone, that he was fine.

Now, you weren't sure if he looked any better or worse since that day.

At least he wasn't covered in so much blood this time.

The dark circles usually under Cedric's eyes have somehow gotten more dark, making it appear like he has two black eyes instead of one. The gash on his forehead has been bandaged, at least, but the linen strips are already beginning to unravel. Your gaze settled over to his hands, wringing in a nervous habit, thick bandages surrounding the base of his knuckles and fingers.

You didn't glean any details from Cedric yet, but you heard enough from the rumors flying about the castle from what Sofia recounted. Cedric got beaten up, bad, and it showed.

I can't imagine what else he's hiding underneath that robe... You think to yourself, swallowing the dread as you step forward and approach Cedric.

The sorcerer watches you with wary eyes as you come closer, not really making a move to embrace you.

You pause for a moment, a tense silence filling the room from a million things left unspoken between you both. You look up at Cedric, eyes searching for... You don't even know, really. Confirmation, that he really is okay?

Or that he actually isn't, because who would be? How could you even begin to console him after such horrors?

You exhale through your nose, but shove your insecurities aside. Your hand rests on Cedric's arm, squeezing it gently. Your palms rub up and down in soothing motions, feeling how tense his body was underneath your touch.

"... Your bandage is starting to come undone." You whisper softly, lifting your hand away from cedric's arm to free the strands of silver hair sticking out from the gauze.

"I know."

The sorcerer sighs wearily, turning to rub his cheek and avoid the concern etched on your face. Cedric felt the dull ache of unshed tears behind his eyes, pent up from the thick wall of his defenses.

"I'll fix it later- you don't have to worry, darling." Cedric mutters, inhaling sharply in pain as another chunk of hair was unraveled from the loose linen wrappings. He squeezed his injured hand shut, resisting the urge to flinch and make his discomfort be known.

You frown in turn, exhaling softly in slight exasperation.

"I'm already worried, Cedric."

Bits of dried blood still clumped at the ends of his hair, the white locks stained a rust color. It was evident that the bandages were made in haste, and haven't been properly looked after since. You knew Cedric was a perfectionist to a fault, and the feeling of loose cloth rubbing against his forehead would've surely made him go crazy by now.

Something was definitely wrong here; your gut was right. Cedric wasn't taking care of himself at all- instead opting to isolate in his tower, until he can properly mask his own emotional disarray from others.

Cedric shrivels under your piercing gaze, knowing that the effort to pretend to be okay was ultimately fruitless. Yet he still does it, like a bad habit he still can't quite shake off. Guilt begins to gnaw at him, and he shifts in place restlessly.

You grab his hand, seeing his anxiety and offering him relief through your touch. Cedric intertwines your fingers together, his thumb caressing yours. The silence wasn't so dense, now.

If felt opposite, in fact- fragile, like one word would shatter the sorcerer into a million tiny pieces.

He takes in another painful breath.

You hear the slight wheeze in his following exhale, and it pricks your heart. Gently kissing his unbandaged fingertips, you try to impart love and care into his skin, to show that you're here, with him, and he can trust you.

"We need to change those bandages together... alright?"

Your gaze lifted upward towards the sorcerer, desperation and love swirling together alongside the welling tears in your eyes.

Cedric swallows, hard, trying to keep up the facade of composure. As if there was any more room within himself to stuff down the tears, or the lingering sense of doom and panic that keeps him up at night, or the inevitable feeling of his soul cracking and splitting in half, much like the broken rib lying in his chest.

Which is why, with only a quiet sob, Cedric says, "I know."

________

You gather the remaining ingredients and supplies necessary from Cedric's workshop into your arms before dutifully walking back to the washroom. Cedric was sitting on the floor, the cold tile pressing into his thighs grounding him still to reality. He heart was racing, the fear of your reaction making him almost regret agreeing to this at all.

But seeing you round the corner, supplies in tow with your arms barely balancing it all made a smile creep along his cheeks.

You huff, placing everything down haphazardly on the edge of the sink. Bandages, tinctures, a wound salve Cedric uses for everyday accidents, scissors, alcohol, a couple rags, and a small bucket were amongst the lineup of things you had prepped.

"Spared no expense, I see..." Cedric commented, trying to crack a joke to keep his fear in check.

You smile to yourself, then turn to Cedric.

"For you? Always."

That got Cedric to genuinely smile, his previous fear transforming into soft butterflies in his stomach.

After washing your hands thoroughly, You kneel down in front of him, scissors in your hand.

"I'm going to cut away the old wrappings first, okay?" You lightly touch Cedric's cheek, and he responds by giving your hand a quick kiss, followed by a nod.

You get to work cutting through the loose linen, your heart racing by the second as the cloth gets more stained with the rusty color of dried blood.

Carefully peeling away the old bandage from his forehead, you gasp at the clotted blood and hair sticking to the gash, a semblance of a scab forming at the edges. The skin around it was smeared with blackish brown blood, mixing with the bruises lingering on his brow.

"Cedric..." You whispered in anguish, your face falling.

The sorcerer hangs his head, and you tear your eyes away from the injury to grab a rag, dipping it into the warm water gathered in the bucket you brought in.

You wipe the mess on his forehead clean, Cedric wincing underneath you. The sound breaks your heart of course, but you knew you had to keep going. The wound could've easily gotten infected by now, and the idea of letting that happen to him made you angry- at him, for not letting you help in the first place; then, yourself, for not acting sooner regardless.

But that anger doesn't hold a candle to rage you felt towards the people responsible for this.

"...Are you alright, dear?" Cedric asks in a small voice, his finger touching your arm as it works on his head.

You sigh, heart breaking. Of course this sweet man would ask- always concerned about the needs and emotions of others around him, even with his head split open.

"I should be asking you that-," you reply, frustration seeping into your words more than you liked. You feel Cedric's sad eyes burn into you, not knowing how to reply.

You turn away, unable to bear those brown eyes that make your heart ache.

"I'm fine, love. Really, I... I just." You stop, unable to find the words to say that could explain yourself. You sigh loudly, leaving your sentence hanging midair as you turn to the sink to change the subject. This wasn't supposed to be about you, anyways.

"I don't know what to put on your gash... I kinda just grabbed stuff." You muttered, gesturing to the bottles you've seen Cedric grab a few times when accidents injured him.

Cedric doesn't even lift his head as he replies, "The yellow jar- with the mismatched lid."

You grab it, returning to his side. Cedric stares at the lid that squeaks in the way that always annoyed him, because he lost the damn lid due to an explosion, while patching up another, different injury.

He feels the familiar ointment be pressed into his skin, and a pained groan leaves him at the biting sting of it. Cedric leans further into the wall, and you cringe apologetically.

"I'm sorry- should I stop?"

"No, no- just, make it quick, please." He says through gritted teeth, and you quickly cover the rest. Grabbing the rag, you clean the dried bits of blood out of his silver bangs, until they get back to their soft white-grey color.

He exhales in a sigh of relief, but that triggered a coughing fit as his bones creaked in protest. He doubles over, the wheezing taking hold as his entire frame shakes with the force of his coughing.

"Cedric-?!" You cried in concern, staring helplessly as the sorcerer continued to struggle to inhale. The pain stabbing in his lung felt like his side was on fire, and his hands scrambled to grab the rag on the floor to cough into- tasting the metallic tang already climbing up his throat.

You see the blotches of red staining the cloth, the air in your lungs stolen.

"Cedric..? You-"

"I know, it's bad." He grimaced, cutting you off as he groaned.

Seeing your skin blanch, he's quick to console you.

"It can't be helped- broken ribs sort of do that, I suppose!" His voice cracked like his rib as he forced out a laugh, hoping you would crack a smile.

You didn't.

"If you knew it was bad, why did you say you were fine! You can't just hide a broken bone from me, Cedric!" Your voice hardens, brow furrowed deeply as your gaze holds on the fresh red specks on the rag.

"....I know- I'm sorry, (y/n)." Cedric shoulders droop, his arm cradling his inflamed side as well as his wounded heart. The guilt cut clean through him, and there was nowhere to hide from your piercing eyes that always stripped him down to his most vulnerable.

Cedric cuts through the silence first, tracing the grout between the tiles of the washroom floor.

"I know I should've said something. I know I should've- asked for help..." Cedric sighs, painfully.

"I just... I couldn't. I couldn't keep looking at it- the bruises, the cuts, the- the blood..." Each word makes the sorcerer tremble further, cringing at the rag in his hand. Another piece of evidence damning him to that same night, where he was beaten half to death.

"Everything since that day has reminded me of it, somehow. I just- I don't know, I didn't want to see you, or anyone else, to see me like this. Broken."

Your frown deepens, then your eyes, soften as you process what Cedric said. Your own tears start to form, and you regret snapping on the man. He was already hurting enough, and now instead of helping, you were making it worse.

"Or, having to see the way you're looking at me right now." Cedric added, lifting your chin away from the rag, your eyes crashing into his sweet caramel brown irises.

You hold each other's stare, until you break the silence next.

"How am I looking at you, Cedric?" You ask, voice soft and apologetic. You trace the curves of his cheeks with your hands.

"Like you blame yourself..." Cedric replies in a melancholy tone, his sad eyes locking with yours.

You swallow the urge to apologize on instinct, but a small "I'm sorry," leaves you anyways, turning your face away to take your eyes off him.

"Don't apologize, (y/n)." Cedric catches your face in his hands, turning you back to him.

"I thought I wanted things to just go back to normal- you know. Before, everything happened..." Cedric's eyes darken, but he presses on.

"But it seems like no matter how much I want to avoid it, I can't. Don't have much choice, really." His flicker down to the bloodied rag, damning him once again.

Your eyes track his, biting your lip in a concerned pout.

"You don't have to do it alone." You offer gently, resting your hands on his shoulders, giving it an encouraging squeeze.

Cedric smiles, grasping your hands in his and squeezing them back.

"I know; I'm sor-"

Cedric gasps as his sentence is swiftly cut off by your warm lips. He melts into the kiss, his hands cupping your face. For a brief moment, it was like all the pain and tension bound to his body faded with each brush of your lips together. Cedric can't find the strength to pull away, needing every passing second to last longer.

You feel him finally relax, and you kiss him a few seconds longer before you have to part for air.

Cedric cough slightly trying to catch his breath, the pain making him flinch a little while he hugs his side.

You noticed, playing with the seams of his robe.

"Let me see?" You coaxed nervously.

"It's not pretty, darling..." He replies with a sigh.

"It's you, so that's clearly not true." You retort without missing a beat.

That got Cedric to relax a little, a small smile spreading across his cheeks.

"Don't say I didn't warn you." Cedric smirks, but his eyes still are wary.

You kiss his cheek, shrugging off his robe.

"Don't worry about it. I'm here to help." You reassured him, stripping him down slowly and apologizing every time he winced from the crack of his ribs.

Shirtless, you lift Cedric's arm out of the way. You can't stop the gasp of shock that leaves your mouth; purple and green splotches lined up Cedric's side, as well as in clusters all over his chest and arms. It makes your eyes sting, and your heart prick, looking at the extent of the damage.

"Oh, Cedric..." You breathed out, your hands barely brush against his bare skin, afraid to even touch him.

"Told you so." He replied, chuckling awkwardly.

"...I'm not going anywhere. We need to ice this." You speak firmly, steeling yourself to treat Cedric further.

"Allow me, then." Cedric straightens up slightly, eager to flaunt his magic. He mumbles the magic words, an ice pack manifesting in your hand.

"...Thank you, love." You reply, pressing the cold pack against Cedric's angry looking bruises.

Cedric groans instantly from the contact, and you aren't sure if it's in pain or relief. His body seizes up a bit, and before you can pull the ice away from him, he rests his gloved hand on your arm.

"I should be telling you that..." Cedric mused, rubbing soft circles into the crook of your elbow.

"You don't need to. It's what I want to do- by making sure you're okay."

You smile, kissing the tip of Cedric's nose.

"...I will be, as long as I'm with you." Cedric sighs, feeling content for the first time since he returned to Enchancia.

He pulls you into his lap, then shortly into another kiss. It was sweet, and soft, and perfect.

"I think I feel better already, love." Cedric eyes you with a flirty smile, and you laugh, a sound that lights Cedric up from the inside out.

Yeah.

He was going to be alright.

[raayllum]

In regards to the post about people occasionally misunderstanding Callum and Viren's flaws, what have you seen people do with there characters that stood out to you as wrong? I only ask cause I'm very much a pantser of stories and write based of what vibes, so I want to know what kind of things to look out for.

Disclaimer: I am by no means an expert but I have been writing/analyzing for a long time, and now in a somewhat professional capacity, so here's just how I personally think of it / what I've personally seen in fandom. I also don't think pantsers are more inclined (from the writing friends I know, they tend to be more intuition based, which can serve you very very well) even if I am definitely a planner.

With all that out of the way, it basically boils down to ignoring all of Viren's virtues / good intentions, and modifying or ignoring Callum's vices and 'bad' intentions i.e. assuming that Viren's motivations are nothing more than being power hungry and selfish, and that Callum's motivations are always pure and good.

One of the things that I think that's really elevated my writing and analysis is digging my heels into like, examining things from a pyschological basis. What this means is looking not only at how a character's flaws or strengths manifest, but figuring out why and where they're stemming from. This is important for like, you can only write a character if you understand where they're coming from, as this process forms the basis for knowing character motivation (and therefore justification).

Because yes, Viren is power hungry and selfish, and we see in 4x02 he kind of knows that, but he's not admitting that or thinking that way for the bulk of the series. That may be how other characters / the audience sees his actions, but how does he see his actions? Understanding how a character can justify/rationalize things to themselves is important if you want to portray them as well rounded. Viren can say something contradictory like "We must be ready to sacrifice, even the things we love" about his family and "I have always been ready to do anything to protect my family, however dangerous, however vile" and have them both be simultaneously true, because most people — or at least, compelling characters — have contradictory notions or conflicts, and it's the war between opposing wants and desires that causes their internal arcs to well, happen.

Same thing for Callum. He doesn't mean to be a jerk to Ezran in either the beginning or ending of S1, we already know how much his little brother means to him and how nurturing he is, usually. But loving someone deeply isn't the same thing as always treating them kindly, as I'm sure most of us know. So Callum blows up, immediately regretting it in 1x02, and remaining far more of a jerk about it in 1x09 until he apologizes. If the takeaway is just that one of Callum's flaws is his temper, that's all well and good (and it very much is) but it fails to consider when and why his temper comes out. (Which, if you're interested on something more in depth, meta on that here.)

For example, for me, a lot (if not the bulk) of Callum's characterization comes back to a Core of wanting to protect/help his loved ones. Which sounds vague, but that's why the specificities are what matters. Callum's temper tends to come out, specifically, when he's frustrated that he can't do anything to help someone he loves, and he either lashes out at the person getting in his way or someone who is (unintentionally) reminding him of that helplessness. Callum's curiosity / ambitious pursuit of magic is also, to me, tied to that same core. He wants magic because he wants agency, and he wants agency because he wants to be helpful / useful.

If you understand why a character is doing something, it leads to being to extrapolate and place them in different / more intense scenarios, but still retain that main core.

For example, Claudia's primary core is to keep her family together. That's not a main motivation in S1, but it's shown in the way she takes care of her family (being Viren's listening ear and trusted with the more important task; trying to cheer up Soren and giving him hot brown morning potion) in ways that they don't really do for her (Soren goes along and helps out with her plans, but there's never an instance of him taking care of her in the same way, even if we still see that he cares and wants to protect her, i.e. doesn't tell her the truth about Viren). Then in S2 it becomes clear that Claudia's main motivation is to keep her family together, and that Core Want stays true even in increasingly insane or worrisome circumstances (S3, S4, S5) as well as explaining some of her more contradictory behaviour. Of course she's going to believe Viren over Soren with the gaslighting the second she's given an option to, because believing her father lets her keep them all together, and believing her brother means losing Viren.

Which is to say, maybe, that most of the mages we've seen in show (with the exception of Lujanne, perhaps, who's built a life among literal solitary ruins for the express purpose of leaving them as ruins) have a Fixer tendency. Magic allows them to fix the issues they see in the world - that's why they chase it.

Viren believes he has to fix the issue of an empty throne and the knife held at humanity's throat, and he's uniquely suited to know how to fix it (hence why he should be king); Claudia leans on her preparedness and perfectionist tendencies because if she's good enough, nothing bad ever has to happen to her family again, right? She can keep them together, she can fix this; Karim wants to fix the issue of humans and losing their way of life, "I will banish that darkness [...] We will be whole again"; and Callum wants to fix issues for his family (the assassination, the fake coup, Rayla's binding, Rayla's family, etc); "And he's my father. It's my duty to help him".

But what fixing looks like, of course, is also a matter of perspective, and that's where you get variety.

But if you look at Viren's desire to fix things - in his case, to ward off weakness - you can understand the through line of his actions. He wants to fix the danger they're in of killing Avizandum and leaving an heir; his desire for more power and knowledge (tools he can use to create solutions and thereby inflate his self importance) tempt him away from killing Zym; he holds onto the egg so that elves and dragons can't 'use it' the way he would. "An empty throne is a beacon of weakness" "[A child king] will make weak choices!" And Viren is man of strength; a man who can get a grip and compartmentalize and repress and do whatever needs to be done to protect humanity. To fix the magical inequality and banish the Xadian threat.

Whereas when you look at our non-mage characters, they tend to have different cores. Rayla and Soren are clear cut Protectors, for better or for worse. Ezran and Janai both continually seek Change and healing. And often times these goals can go hand in hand! Wanting to protect someone can be a Fixer urge (Claudia, Viren, Callum); wanting to fix your mistakes by Protecting someone can also work (3x09 with Soren; Rayla with Zym). But that could be a whole dissection/analysis for another day.

Back to Callum and Viren.

I think sometimes stripping them down to more monstrous or angelic forms comes from people thinking only one thing can motivate a character at a time, even though we as humans obviously have multiple motivations or responses at a time, particularly for villainous characters.

Viren can turn back to help the Queens of Duren because he feels guilty (this was his plan), he wants to help and knows he can make a difference, and because he wants to feel like a hero. Callum can be accepting Rayla unconditionally and be hurt about it and still trying to protect himself a bit in 4x09 by saying "I know" while not going after her; the same action can be growth and regression simultaneously.

When you write a character, you have to approach them from an interior to exterior process - the old phrase "everyone is a hero in their own mind" is certainly true, or rather, "everyone justifies their actions some way or another" - which is largely the opposite of how you view a character as an audience member. Not that the two can't be conflated or overlap, they certainly do (and you do want to be aware of how your characters may or may not come off to well, your audience) but it is a different kind of process.

For example, for Viren, he genuinely believes that what he's doing is what's best for humanity > his own gain. And while he's clearly lying and doing a lot of things out of self importance / convenience, the fact that he Believes the lie means that the lie doesn't really matter, internally, because it's something he either dismisses or doesn't think about at all. And Viren does have admirable traits: loyalty (and I would say most people have conditional loyalty anyway), cleverness/intelligence, ambition, hardworking, globally minded, etc. But a lot of this stems from Wanting To Be Special/Important (his core, arguably, and one I think a lot of people would relate to) and when that doesn't often pan out, he crumbles. Him having an inflated sense of self importance means that he's used to thinking he probably knows better than other people (and gets very frustrated when they don't listen and/or agree with him) and thinking you know better than other people also bodes very well with, if taken to extremes, blatantly dehumanizing them (omg dark magic ideology hi!). He presents as being confident and smooth and knowledgeable, but every time we see him alone/internal he's almost always a hot mess or wracked with guilt/doubt, and he's not very good at adapting to shit, like at all, even if he's great at being cruel/brutal and pragmatic. He's also often times awkward when presented with openly joking/teasing affection, is a guy who waves to little kids, makes dorky jokes with his best friend, and genuinely loved (loves?) his kids once upon a time.

For Callum, a lot of his traits are a double edged sword as well. His attention to detail is born from his curious and observant nature. This allows him to be incredibly nurturing and considerate, but also lets him go for the jugular and what would hurt the most in a fight when his temper gets going. He wants to make his loved ones lives better/easier, but this can sometimes be at the expense of what they need or being overprotective. This can sometimes tie a bit into Viren's own "I know better than you" even if Callum doesn't usually go that far, as he has more self awareness. He has a strong sense of right and wrong but is willing to bend without defense if he thinks the ends justify the means (i.e. never defending his dark magic use, and unlike Claudia, believing/knowing that dark magic is wrong - whereas she doesn't think anything of the sort - but using it and being tempted by it anyway, even if he rejects it in 2x08). His determination is great but can lead to him being obsessive, even if he's also good at knowing his limits / when to yield and fold on things, and will often fold first. While this is great in his relationships and doing relationship repair, it's not so good for his goal setting, as it means he can have a defeatist attitude and then grow frustrated when that "I can't do the thing I want to do / do anything" comes in full swing. This makes him lash out because he hates feeling helpless, particularly when it comes to the people he loves, and all of that circles back to what I've said above, in that he loves his self proclaimed "inner circle" more than "anyone or anything". Just cause he's sweet and goofy and caring doesn't mean he doesn't have teeth (a temper, a ruthless side, etc).

TLDR; characters contain multitudes in their internal psychology and if you can figure out what a character's psychological core is, you'll have a much larger but more cohesive range to write from, emotion / action(s) wise. Feel free to give your happier, more sunshiney characters an edge / claws and fangs (just because someone is nice doesn't mean they're good; external presented attitude is not everything and certainly not necessarily morality) and your edgier, evil characters some redeeming and/or admirable qualities.

[valiantstarlights]

[Dreamling Week Day 4: Fake Dating] Fidelity

This is from the Comic!Hob x Show!Dream and Comic!Dream x Show!Hob AU, inspired by @alexxuun 's art. I'm interpreting 'fake dating' to mean miscommunication between 3 parties, where one thinks that the other two are dating, but they're really not.

This is the continuation of (and the actual happy ending I imagined for) The Burning House (AO3 | tumblr).

CW: Comic!Hob being mean, angst (heartache) with a happy ending.

Dream watches Hob, his Hob, the one he has been in love with for a long time, walk away and close the door behind him.

And he cannot, he cannot...

Dream of the Endless does not need to breathe, but he thinks he might be hyperventilating.

"You okay, sweetheart?"

He flinches and shakes off the hand that the other Hob has placed upon his shoulder. "Do not call me that."

"Do not call you--" This Hob, the other, more arrogant one, who does not look like his Hob at all, laughs in his face. "So, what, now that your Hob is back, you're just throwing me away?"

Dream raises his chin. "It was your decision to stay. Not mine."

And it was. He had said and done nothing to convince this Hob to stay or leave. He had still been reeling from the feeling of his Hob suddenly disappearing from this universe, and he had been waiting by the portal that appeared, hoping against hope that his Hob would return to him.

And every second the portal remained open and his Hob isn't stepping through made him think, 'Have I not suffered enough? Am I fated to lose everyone I love?'

Hob, the one constant in his life for 600 years, suddenly taken from him. Not by his sister, but by the universe itself. He had been unable to withstand it.

And then this Hob came and swooped him up. Promising to stay. And Dream, heartbroken beyond fixing, allowed him to touch and to do to him what he wanted his Hob to do to him. He had been held and kissed, and he had received the other Hob's touches like a lifeless doll.

And then his Hob returned.

Returned and seen, misunderstood and left.

Dream cannot take any more heartbreak. He doesn't think he has enough of his heart left to break, but apparently, there are still large enough shards to be crushed under a heel and ground to dust.

This Hob, the other one, the one he does not even love, has a cruel smile on his face. "Fucking typical behavior from a Dream of the Endless," he says, his even teeth bared like fangs. "You're a real piece of work, you know that? You, and the one from my universe."

"You should leave," Dream says.

"And go where?" This Hob asks. "Do you see a portal back to my universe anywhere, sweetheart? Can you conjure one up? You seem pretty helpless awhile ago, looking at the portal like a heartsick maiden waiting for her one true love to come back from the sea."

"The rest of the world is wide enough, is it not?" Dream says. "And if you and my Hob have a similar history, then you must have also sailed around the world in the 1700s."

This Hob snorts. "'My Hob,'" he repeats mockingly. "He's not yours, Dream. Weren't you paying attention? He thinks we're together now."

"And yet we are not."

"You know, this reminds me of when we met in the 1800s, when you claimed you weren't lonely. Well, newsflash, Dream of the Endless, you're so fucking lonely that any Hob would do for you. If my counterpart had not returned, you would have happily spread your legs for me and wept so prettily while crying my name."

Never. Dream would have wept, but he would not have accepted another Hob that isn't his into his body. "An eventuality that will not happen," he says, "since my Hob has returned to me."

This Hob shakes his head, chuckling. "Again with the 'my Hob.' He's not yours, darling. And having seen him for myself, seeing how he looked at us, I know he's never going to take you back. I wouldn't, if I were him. And," this Hob pretends to think about it before he snaps his fingers as if he just remembered something. "Oh yeah. I am him."

"He is not you," Dream says, though he feels himself wavering. The two Hobs might not be the same person, but they still have a similar enough history. Would Dream be able to claim he knows his Hob better than Hob's own counterpart in another universe? "I will...I will talk to him." He will do anything for Hob to look at him again without heartbreak clear in his beloved brown eyes.

This Hob looks at him derisively. "You? Talk about feelings? Not exactly your strong suit, but alright. I'll wish you luck with that, sweetheart." He smiles savagely. "You'll need it."

Dream looks away from him and stands up, not bothering to smooth out his wrinkled clothes and instead just uses his sand to do it for him. A second later, his clothes looked impeccable once more. "You should go, Robert."

"You sure you don't want me to stay and offer you a pity fuck when my counterpart eventually throws your feelings back in your face?"

Dream ignores him and walks down the same path his Hob took and goes down to the Inn.

--

"That was quick," was what his Hob says the moment he spots Dream sit down on one of the barstools. He says nothing else and goes back to repairing the beer tap.

"Hob."

"Hold on, I need to concentrate on this for a bit or it's gonna spew beer all over the counter."

Dream obeys and watches him fiddle and tinker with the thing in silence. It looks pretty old by modern standards, but Hob still handles it with care.

Just like he handles everything with care.

Dream watches Hob's handsome features, brows furrowed in deep concentration, his rough, capable hands and the muscles on his forearms, the width of his chest and the lock of hair falling down his face...

Hob does not see, but Dream's hands are slightly shaking. He is terrified that anything he says will push Hob further away from him.

That he has all the words in the English language available to him would mean nothing if he cannot put them in the right order to make Hob understand that it's only him for Dream.

He needs to be honest. State his feelings clearly and earnestly so that when his words reach Hob, he will feel the sincerity in Dream's words.

He needs to be brave, even when he's fucking terrified. He thinks inanely that walking through hell isn't half as difficult compared to this.

Hob is sticking his tongue out a little as he concentrates on turning a bolt, spanner in hand, and it draws Dream's eyes to his tongue, then to his lips.

It looks redder than usual.

Dream's nostrils flare in anger as he catches the feeling of something other that clings to Hob's lips like a miasma.

Had the other Dream..? Had he dared--

But of course he did. Dream could not think of anyone who would let his Hob go unkissed. And were he braver and more honest, he himself would not have let Hob depart in 1789 without kissing him senseless. He should have. He had thought of little else ever since Hob came to his defense. It had rained flower petals in the Dreaming for an entire decade. Jessamy had said nothing, but if ravens could smile, she would have worn a shit-eating grin on her face. Mervyn certainly did, while Lucienne had the best poker face of them all.

"Alright," Hob says, a few minutes later, when the beer tap looks in a slightly better condition and he had asked the bartender to call for an actual professional to either do longer lasting repair work, or advise them on the technicalities were they to upgrade to something more modern. "You wanted to talk?" Like his counterpart, his Hob sounds dubious about Dream's conversational skills.

"I will try," Dream says honestly. At least Hob knows not to expect much from him. It's a little disheartening, but Dream hopes it would mean that Hob would forgive him if he comes across like a bumbling fool rather than the actual Prince of Stories. "But before anything else, I would like you to know that you are the one I am in love with."

Hob trips a little on his way to sit on the barstool next to Dream's. It would have been funny had Dream not felt so desperate. "What? But...but you and the other me..."

Dream shakes his head. "I thought you were never coming back," he says, tears once again brimming from his eyes at the thought of Hob being gone from him forever. "I thought...The other you said..."

Hob clenches his fists. "What did he say? That I'm never coming back for you? Is that what he said?"

Dream hesitates, then nods miserably. "He said that you would not want to return because of how I treated you, and that you would pick any other Dream other than me. That I had been too cruel."

The other Hob said many other things, but that was the one that stings the most. The one that hits too close to home.

But Hob is seething in his seat, a coiled snake about to strike. "I'll kill him," he says. "I'll fucking kill him for saying that shit to you." He looks like he's going to get up and leave Dream to do just that to the other Hob, so Dream darts a hand out and squeezes Hob's hand in his.

Hob freezes at the touch, and Dream realizes that this is the first time in 600 years that the two of them had skin-to-skin contact. Hob is looking at their joined hands in shock and wonder. "Dream..."

"Stay with me," Dream says. Pleads.

"Alright," Hob says easily. He sits back down and intertwines their fingers, as if he's afraid that now that Dream has gotten him to stay, he's going to let go of Hob's hand. If it were up to Dream, he'll hold Hob's hand forever and never let go again. "Alright," Hob repeats. "He can live for one more day."

Dream huffs a laugh at the unexpected statement. "You should not kill yourself."

Hob scrunches his nose at how strange the sentence sounds in this context. "Trust me, Dream, if it's that bastard, I'm sure killing myself would feel cathartic."

Dream looks down and huffs a laugh again. He'd laugh a full-bellied laugh if it were just him and Hob in the room, but as it was, he'd rather not frighten both the employees and the customers of the New Inn.

Hob is smiling fondly at him when he looks back up, then clears his throat awkwardly when their eyes meet. "So. Just to be absolutely, perfectly clear on this, you definitely, definitely prefer me over that asshole?"

Dream nods shyly. His heart feels like it's beating too loudly that Hob must hear it. Or at least feel its frantic beat against their intertwined fingers.

He must be courageous and speak his mind. Hob will appreciate it. Hob has always been truthful to him, even at his worst. "It's not just prefer, I'm afraid," he says, slowly and carefully. He wants his words to convey the depth of feeling he has for this man. "I have been in love with you since the 1600s, longed for you the entire time I was imprisoned, especially on the day we were supposed to meet in 1989, but I only realized that it was love I felt for you when I saw you again in 2022, beautiful and waiting for me."

"Fuck, Dream." Hob tightens his hold on his hand. "You can't say things like that and expect me not to kiss you."

Dream unconsciously licks his lips and sees Hob watch the flick of his tongue with avid interest. Fortune favors the bold. "Kiss me."

'Please. I long to feel your body against mine and bask in the warm sunlight of your soul.'

Hob sways forward, but hesitates at the last second. "You're absolutely sure it's me you want?"

"Hob," Dream says, already leaning forward himself to lessen the distance between them. "You, this you, are the only one I have ever loved."

Hob makes a wounded noise and leans the last bit forward to capture Dream's lips in a perfect kiss. Dream kisses him back with all the passion he feels, and perhaps it is a bit too desperate for their first kiss, but he cannot be expected to hold back now. He wants this, has needed this, ever since he saw Hob again after his imprisonment.

Someone wolf-whistles in the background, and Dream realizes that they are still in the Inn. Hob moves as if to break the kiss and Dream whines, gripping Hob's coat tighter.

Not yet. He can't let go of Hob's lips just yet.

Hob calms and returns to kissing him back, and pulls Dream closer to him until they're both just standing in between the two barstools, lips locked like a pair of lovers who have been separated for far too long.

They'll be fine. It's not like anyone would kick Hob out since he owns the place, and Dream doesn't think Hob would let anyone kick Dream out. And besides, they deserve this. It's been a long time coming.

They kiss until Hob has to lean away to take a much needed breath of air, and once that's done, he leans in to kiss Dream again.

They kiss until Dream is satisfied that the other Dream's taste is gone from Hob's lips, until the two of them are wholly each other's Dream and Hob again, as it should be.

"I love you," Dream says. He does not know how much time has passed since they started kissing, but his lips are tingling pleasantly, and his heart feels lighter than it ever has in centuries.

"And I you," Hob says against his lips. There are tears in his eyes as he says this, and Dream leans up to kiss them away. "Gods, Dream, I think I've loved you ever since I first laid eyes on you."

Dream knows he does not deserve this wonderful man, but he's working on becoming someone who does. He's going to make Hob the happiest person in the world. "I apologize if I took too long to return your regard. I--"

Hob laughs and interrupts him with a quick peck. "Hey, none of that. We both got here in the end, didn't we?"

"We did," Dream says. He could not bear to think otherwise. He kisses Hob again to banish any remaining negative thoughts and doubts, and Hob happily returns his kiss.

Hob, his Hob, has chosen to return and come back to him. And Dream chooses him as well. No other Hob would do.

They are both right where they should be.

[celestiall0tus]

Lady and the Scoundrel - Chapter 14 - Path to Redemption

Beginning || Previous

            Chloe headed out of class with Barkk beside her. They walked outside while Barkk prattled on. Chloe ignored Barkk while she zoned in and out. A few weeks had passed since the holiday break ended. Everything had gone back to normal, or a relative normal. The Scoundrel, Felix, hadn’t been causing trouble like he was. She was back in school, living on campus. The other students still swarmed Barkk in attempts to be her friend. She had noticed a few realized her existence, but she didn’t feel like entertaining them.

            Chloe looked away as she fell in step behind Barkk. Before the holiday, she wanted nothing but to be noticed. She wanted to prove she was better, but was she really? Had she changed at all? Things felt different, but was it enough? Was she worthy of being a hero when she failed to stop the Scoundrel? Was she worthy of friends after all the heartache she’s caused? Was she worthy of a family when her blood family never loved her?

            Chloe gasped when Barkk took her hand and led her through the campus grounds back to their dorm. Chloe tried to get a protest out, but Barkk ignored her until they were away from prying eyes.

            “Chloe, we need to talk,” Barkk said.

            “About what? There’s nothing to talk about.”

            “Chloe, I know better. I am empathic just like Velze. I can feel your heart troubled. Are you still focused on what happened with Felix?”

            “Well, of course! I just… I thought I could be a hero. I thought I was finally doing right, but then all that. I just… I don’t know. I just… I said a lot of things. Things I never wanted to tell him. Things I never wanted to hear. Things I don’t think I was ready to fully face.”

            “Is that why you’ve given up on making friends?”

            “No. Yes? Maybe.”

            “Talk to me, Chloe. I’m here.”

            “You were there. You heard everything.”

            “Maybe so, but I can’t read your thoughts or discern the source of your emotions. I’ll only know if you tell me.”

            Chloe sighed. “I know I’ve admitted to all that I’ve failed at. I know I’ve seen the errors, but it all hit when I looked at myself in the mirror. When I saw the girl for what she was. The little monster that ruined everything. The abomination that was so full of herself, blinded by false power that she destroyed everything precious to her. I even tried to use Felix, Scoundrel, whatever for my own gains as I had with so many others. Everything always started and ended with me.”

            “You are right. You made mistakes, as your kind usually does. You’re not perfect. None of you are, but that doesn’t change the fact you are just as worthy of a second chance as anyone else. And unlike most, you took the chance. You made the effort to change. Even if no one else accepts it, sees you only for your past, nothing will change the truth.”

            “It doesn’t feel like that. Not when I’m reminded of my past constantly.”

            “True, but how does it make you feel to remember all that?”

            “Sad… and angry. Really angry.”

            “Go on.”

            “I was a fool. I used and manipulated people I thought were below me to feel better about myself. It made me feel powerful and good in a twisted sense. I reveled in it until my rule was challenged and undermined. Even when I hit rock bottom before and was given a chance to prove myself, I messed that up too. I doubled down when I should have stopped and realized the truth, but I didn’t.”

            Barkk remained silent and listened.

            “Even now, in London, I’m repeating old habits. I may not be manipulating people, but I’m using them. I’m taking advantage of their despair and helplessness to make myself feel and look better. Even with those people calling me a hero, it was never enough. I had to go for more, but I… I messed up with that. Felix was enamored at the sight of me. He wanted me like I feared. And then me hitting him with that arrow, him looking at me, and being nice to me, it just… it was wrong. I just feel… I just feel like I’m doing the same thing I did in Paris. Like all this has been a waste of time and I haven’t changed at all. That I’m still the mean old Chloe I was in Paris.”

            Barkk opened her mouth when a knock came at the door. She got up and opened it. Her pigtails lifted in surprise to see Felix with a tall boy with tan skin and short black hair. She pulled her lips back in a snarl and growled.

            “What are you doing here, Plagg? I told you this is my territory.”

            Plagg waved his hand dismissing as he pushed past Barkk. “Relax. I won’t be long. Besides, I don’t want to linger somewhere that reeks of love.”

            “Enough, Plagg. Chloe, I came to speak with you,” Felix said.

            “Well, I’ve got nothing to say to you,” Chloe retorted.

            “Then just listen. Look, for what little it’s worth, I’m sorry for upsetting you. I realized I might have pushed too far and brought back unpleasant memories and trauma. I just… I was angry. I hoped for a hot warrior girlfriend, but she turned out to be you.”

            Chloe glared at Felix.

            “Right, sorry. I’m sorry I brought all that up when I lashed out. I hadn’t realized what you were going through, and might have dismissed it whenever Memoria brought it up. Regardless, if you would like, we can keep up the routine we had been. You know, when I would cause random trouble and you chase me off.”

            “I don’t want that. I don’t even know what I want anymore.”

            “I thought you wanted to change?”

            “I did, do, but have I really changed? Especially when it seems like I’m repeating the same habits.”

            “Hard to say if you are repeating, but I can say you’ve changed. You’re nothing like the snot-nosed, stuck up, annoying, bossy little bitch I had to suffer because Adrien liked you for some reason.”

            Chloe rolled her eyes. “You’re just saying that to be nice.”

            Felix laughed. “When have I ever done that? Especially for you.”

            “Fine, so what if I’ve changed. What’s the point if people won’t accept it like you? I mean, would you even be here and be your version of nice if I hadn’t shot you with that arrow and you looked at me?”

            Felix shrugged. “Hard to say. I admit I was confused by the effects of that arrow, and maybe I wouldn’t be, but I’m glad I was hit and saw you. If not for it, I wouldn’t see someone who understands.”

            Chloe furrowed her brows. “What do you mean?”

            “To make a long story short, I saw myself in you after getting hit. I realized where your pain comes from and the cause of it. Our circumstances are very different, but that doesn’t make the pain we feel any less real. We both lashed out. We both hurt people. We still may, but because we’re still damaged. And we may never fully heal, but we can learn to live with what happened and become more than our pasts.”

            “We?” Chloe echoed.

            “I know I didn’t stutter. I never thought change possible for myself until I saw it in you. It helped me to see what more I could be through you.”

            “Does this mean you’ll stop assisting in heists?”

            “Hey, I just said I understand. I didn’t say I was going to give all that up.”

            “Then why talk like you’re going to change?”

            “Because change doesn’t just mean being a goody-two shoes. I’ll leave that for those with a real moral compass. After all, change and redemption means something different for everyone. So, how would you like to talk this path together and see where we end up?”

            “If you keep causing trouble, I will step in to stop you,” Chloe warned.

            Felix grinned and held out a hand. “I would hope for nothing less. How about it then? Shall we see where this road takes us, together?”

            Chloe hesitated. She looked at Barkk, who gave an enthusiastic nod. She sighed and took Felix’s hand.

            “Alright. I’d rather better company, but it’ll be good to walk this path with someone like me,” Chloe said.

            “Likewise. Until we get that, here’s to putting the past behind us.”

            “And for a brighter future.”

Patreon || Discord || Ko-Fi

[annab99awritersdream]

Glossary (Valarin)

Valide: mother

Aslanım: my boy (general term of endearment)

Yapma!: Don't!

Neden, Valide?: Why, Mother?

-

January 42 FoA, Ithilien

"Valide?"

The lady of Ithilien had been sitting quietly on a wooden bench. The understated light of the pale winter sun feebly lit up her emaciated face as she perused an old tome, its thin pages more than often escaping her trembling fingers. A lonely and helpless tear streamed down her cheek as she fought unwelcomed memories and with a sigh she set the book aside, briefly shutting her eyes before she turned around.

"Aslanım," she cooed, "my brave boy, my sweetheart. Come."

He quickly strode through the green lawn and walked up to her. She glanced at him proudly as he smiled. Her firstborn, her most adored child. Her confidant, her best friend. Her pride and joy. He knelt before her, kissed her hand—the one upon which she bore the Sapphire Ring the Lady Varda had gifted her on her wedding day so many years ago—and brought it to his forehead, as it was customary among the Maiar. She nodded and he rose to his feet before she could notice. She stared at him in admiration as stood up to greet him. She leapt up at once and pulled him to a tight hug before a sharp pain in the abdomen made her flinch. Her vision blurred and she let out a whimper before she silently fell into her son's arms.

"Mother!?"

He shook her lightly. "Please, mother, don't..."

He laid her on the bench and gently rolled her around to loosen up her dress. He was no healer, but instinct told him his mother had fainted because of her usual habit of having her waist bound too tightly. He pulled the laces at the back of her dress, but it seemed to him that the more he attempted to set her free of those horrid garments, the more entangled they became. Fear soon overwhelmed him and, in a moment of sheer panic, he grabbed his dagger and cut the fabric down to her lower back. As his mother groaned and slowly regained consciousness, he helped sit and wrapped her around the cloak she usually never forgot to wear—the starry cloak of Dol Amroth.

"Valide?"

He cupped her face. "Are you alright? I..."

His voice had trailed off and his breathing had become more erratic. He sniffled and lowered his head, his gray eyes filling with unshed tears. Elenna took a deep breath and gently propped up his chin.

"Look at me, sweetheart, look at me. I am fine. It is over now. See, nothing happened. You need not worry, my sweet boy. I am well."

She jokingly pinched his nose. "Go back inside now. I will join you in a while."

"I am not going anywhere."

"Mírion, my sweetheart, it really is nothing to..."

She paused and hissed as she hastily brought a hand to her stomach, the other instinctively searching for that of her son. She gripped it and waited for the pain to wane. When it finally did fade, she let go of Mírion's hand and nonchalantly fixed her cloak.

The boy stared at her for a long while, his eyes fixed on her. He eventually scoffed.

"I should have known," he looked away. "You are with child again. Of course you are."

She caught the disappointment in his tone; disappointment that was very much akin to a bubbling rage.

"Aslanım..."

"Yapma!" He gulped, his jaw clenched. "Yapma, Valide. Yapma."

She took his hand and hinted at a conciliatory smile. "I understand why you may feel frustrated. I do. But I promise you that..."

"What are you going to promise? Tell me. What are you going to say this time? You promised you would have stopped having children after Elanorellë was born. It has been eight years. Eight years, Valide. How many miscarriages, how many losses have you been through since then? How many losses have we been through? Have you and father ever thought about it?"

"It is our decision. It is my decision."

"You nearly died the last time you gave birth to a child, do you remember that? Must you be reminded of it?"

"That is enough, aslanım. While I do understand your reaction, you should not forget that, despite my mistakes, I am still your mother. You will not speak to me in that manner again. I did not raise you to be disrespectful."

"You call it disrespect. I call it concern."

"There is nothing to be concerned about. I promise. It is the last time. I will take better care of myself, I will do everything the healers recommend. I will give your father another son and..."

"Do you hear yourself? You already have sons. Boromir and myself. No matter how many children you have, I will always be my father's heir and I certainly do not plan to die. Why must you undergo this senseless torture? Why are you doing this? Neden, Valide? Tell me."

"Sweetheart..."

"I know why," he interrupted her. "That woman said so. Void-cursed Ioreth. How many times have you promised us to send her away? Why is she still here?"

"Mírion."

"Do you not understand she has poisoned your mind?"

"Mírion, that really is enough."

"I am only speaking the truth. Is that what bothers you?"

"Mírion!"

"Hit me if you wish. Punish me as you see fit. I care not."

"How can you..."

"if something happened to you...I could not bear it. None of us could. And I do not intend to lose my mother because of an old, wretched hag who should have departed this world long ago."

He was sitting next to her, his head nestled into her shoulder. "Please. Send her away. Get rid of her. Exile her, send her away. Give her some gold, whatever she asks of you. She needs to leave."

He sat up straight and took both her hands. "Should you...if you..."

"Nothing will happen to me, son. And, in any case, Ioreth should not be blamed."

"You cannot know that. What if..."

He burst into tears as he hugged her. "Don't leave us. Please. Send that woman away. PLEASE."

"If my times comes, I have no other choice. How can I change that which has been preordained by Eru himself?"

"How can you speak of it so calmly?"

"You should not fear death. Remember what the Men of old..."

"Your pain will end. You are looking forward to it, I know that."

"Mírion."

"You will finally be free. That is true. What about us? Has it ever occurred to you that your family may suffer? Your father, your brothers, your husband, your children?"

"You will always have your father to help you and guide you."

Uncontrollable tears were running down his face, his voice reduced to a whisper. "No. He will not be here. The burden will fall on me."

"What are you saying? He cannot die and..."

"Have you not noticed he is sick!? He has been sick for years. He does not talk about it, nobody does. But my heart tells me he does not have much time. Why do you think he no longer practices with me? General Varonwë is in charge of my training now."

He sobbed. "Mother, listen to me. He is not well and, if you go, he will follow you. So, please, listen to me. If you do not care about your children...do it for him. He loves you more than anyone. Do not do this to him. Don't."

He leaned in and kissed her forehead. "Please live. I know you're in pain. Everything you have suffered, I wish I could have spared it to you. I wish I had suffered it myself. Because that would only mean one thing. Perhaps, you would be happy. That is all I have ever wanted. To see you happy. I know it hurts, but I must ask you to stay. Father needs you. My siblings need you, this child will need you. Don't you ever forget that."

His eyes suddenly caught a lonesome figure that seemed to come forward. He turned to Elenna once more.

"General Varonwë is here. I will take my leave." He hugged his mother again. "Go inside, you will be cold. Just rest, alright? I will visit you tonight before supper."

She nodded. "I love you so much, aslanım."

He smiled, his eyes still teary. "I know. I have always known. And I will love you until I last draw breath. That is my promise and I shall keep it. I shall."

-

Just a little snippet I wrote because I really couldn't sleep. It's totally unnecessary, but I felt like writing it and I think it turned out okay. It's decent, I think.

@lucifers-legions

@saurongorthaur9

@emmanuellececchi

*In Charlie's /Sauron's voice*: "Call it a gift." 🤣

Honestly, I need to write snippets because who knows when I'll get around to writing the full chapters about this. It will probably take me 30 years to get there.

(Literally Enna and Mírion brought to life)

That's the Valarin kiss (they also kneel)

[champion-leon-imagines]

How about this: Leon has a nightmare of Eternatus killing his wife and Hop but he is woken up by her (his wife). Leon is crying, scared, lost and saddened because he thinks he couldn't protect either of them or his region. Things turn smutty when she comforts him, loves on him, making love to him and reassuring him. Comfort sex is the best and don't be afraid to write this as gentle and as loving (not rough) as you can, I feel like this is lacking in the Leon community and is so in-character for him. Please and thank you <3

Warning: NSFW-ish~ Warnings: The dream is maybe a lil bit graphic.. A/N: A friendly reminder, since I really hate my writings lately, english is NOT my first language. So please bare with my grammar *bows* Also a second side note, if nobody noticed yet: I REALLY SUCK AT WRITING SMUT. I LOVE IT OKAY BUT I HATE TO WRITE IT XD

It was around 2:00 am and Murkrows slowly made their way outside when they landed on top of a big and luxurious house. They settled in in their nest and cleaned their feathers with their bill. Suddenly a loud groan echoed through the open window and startled the Murkrows to fly away. Leon turned in his sleep uncomfortably, sweat dropped from his forehead and he had tears in his eyes.

Ever since he battled Eternatus he had recurring nightmares about this nightmare Pokemon. Of it destroying his hometown, killing his friends and Pokemon, but this nightmare hit different. The persons, he sees dying in this nightmare, were his family. To be more specific, he first saw Hop go up in flames . His screams and cries made Leon unable to move or react in his dream. All he could do was stretch out his arm, a helplessly try to reach for his brother before he disappeared in dust.

After this Eternatus rushed from his position in the air and opened its mouth to devour you, Leons beloved wife. "No!! Please!! Kill me instead, but please leave her alone!", Leon screamed in his dream, his tears falling when he had to see half of your body torn apart and eaten by this monster. "Y/N!!!!!!"

"Leon, it's fine. Please wake up, darling. I'm here.", your worried voice calmed his senses and a light and gentle tug at his shoulders made him open his eyes. His eyes were wide and teary, his mouth was dry from him shouting and groaning for hours in his sleep. His whole body shook from this nightmare and he looked down at his hands, seeing them still shaking. "I'm sorry.. I didn't mean to wake you up, sweetheart..", he mumbled apologetically and you hugged him tightly, because you knew too well what kind of nightmares haunted him lately. "It's fine. Really. It was.. an Eternatus related dream again, wasn't it?" you whispered, caressing his back soothingly to make his racing heart calm down and let his sobs soak in. All he could do was nod, since he didn't trusted his voice right now. For you, Leon always wanted to show you his strength. He wanted to be your 'tower of strength', someone you can rely on. Seeing him so vulnerable made you sad and you knew it pained him to show you his weakened side.

"You don't have to tell me, what happened. Buf if you need to talk about it, I'll-" "I saw Hop and you.. dying."

Your sentence stopped.

"I saw you dying in a grotesque way and felt so helpless. What if Eternatus escapes and attacks us again? I don't think I am able to defend the people I love.. to defend.. you.", his words made you sad, but you understood his fear. Eternatus was dangerous, there was no doubt about this fact. But you couldn't allow it to make you live in fear.

"Leon.", you spoke up, putting his face between your hands to make him look at you. "I understand how you feel. But don't worry. Eternatus can't escape. He is safe in the laboratory. Nothing bad will happen, you hear me?"

"Do you promise me, to let me protect you until my last breath?", he asked against your lips, his strong arms circling around your waist. You smiled at him and leaned in for a sweet and loving kiss. "I promise. And I promise that nothing in this world can do us apart. Not even death. And neither can Eternatus." "I love you.. so much.", Leon mumbled against your lips, his hands already mentally absent feeling your sides up and down. You kissed his chin, your own hands caressing his naked upper torso (Leon just sleeps in boxers) until you felt his nipples harden under your touch.

"I love you too. And I'll never leave your side.", you whispered back, chuckling lightly when Leon inhaled sharply because your fingers continued to tease his sensitive nipples. "You know what happens, when you tease me like that, don't you?", Leon warned, but you just smirked at him and pinched his nipples until he let out a soft moan. "Yeah, and you are responsible for waking me up. So.. it's just fair you help me fall back asleep right?", you purred and started to lick over his sternum.

Leon chuckled too and it seems he forgot his nightmare already. He stopped you from teasing his chest and pulled you over so you were straddling him. When you felt his bulge poking your butt, your smirk widened. "Ah, it seems someone's knocking~.", you teased and kissed his neck tenderly, before giving his skin a few nips and bites.

"Well, it's rude not to let him in, isn't it?", Leon teased back and started to massage your buttocks gently with both hands. Your hand travelled down to his clothed erection and gave him a few quick pumps. Leon groaned impatiently and squeezed your butt a bit rough for your teasing.

Things got quick now, his boxershorts and your slip were both discarded and thrown away carelessly while you grinded over his long member with your wet pussy without being penetrated. You both moaned in unison, holding onto each other und kissing passionately.

His hips moved on his own and meeting your grinding thrusts until his length grazed your clit with each thrust. "So impatient, love. Are you so needy feeling my walls clench your cock~?", you whispered in your most seductive tone and Leons cheeks heated up with a nice shade of red. He should be used to it now when it comes to dirty talk, but this sweet goofball managed to get embarassed everytime you two got hot and steamy.

"You're the one to talk, sweetheart. Why is your pussy already dripping? Admit it, you want me inside of you so badly.", he spoke after he got enough confidence to take you on in this dirty talk stuff.

You chuckled and took his member in your hand, rubbing it against your slick entrance and clit to moisten it for whats come. Your moans seemed to make him harder and when he finally slid it, you only felt bliss.

Leons thrusts were always slow at first. He was loving, caring and he made sure to waste no second to kiss you all over while he was moving inside of you. You put your legs around his torso and grabbed his shoulder to press him further against you and feel him hit your most sensitive spot.

"Oh god.. Leon.. right there.. Ah.. keep going and hit this place..", you moaned repeately as Leon obliged and tried to stay in this angle for a few times.

After some more thrusts, your lips left his, what made him whimper at the loss of feeling your warm lips. You chuckled and repositioned a little, so you were now riding him. You put your hand on his chest and moved up and down, moaning his name like a chant.

Leon saw your perfect breasts bouncing and he grabbed one of them with his hand, while his other assaulted your clit with rough and fast rubs while his hips thrusted upwards. "I can't take much anymore.. I am so close..", you panted, throwing your head back and screamed his name, while waves of lust invaded your body. Your vision got white and you swore you saw some stars, when you felt Leons hot semen while he came with you.

You collapsed ontop of him and buried your sweaty face in his neck, catching your breath. Leon embraced you in a sweet and gentle hug and kissed your forehead.

"I hope that helped you to fall asleep again?", he asked with a smile. You smiled back and caressed his cheek.

"I'm afraid I need another round of this work out. The first never works.", you chimed, making Leon laugh whole-heartedly while he kissed you again.

"Alright, just give me a few minutes, love."

[goodnightmemes]

FLORENCE + THE MACHINE  /  DANCE FEVER SENTENCE STARTERS

❛ The very thing you're best at is the thing that hurts the most. ❜

❛ But a woman is a changeling; always shifting shape. ❜

❛ I never knew my killer would be coming from within. ❜

❛ And I was never as good as I always thought I was, but I knew how to dress it up. ❜

❛ Sometimes I wonder if I should be medicated. If I would feel better just lightly sedated. ❜

❛ I'm always running from something. ❜

❛ Being clever never got me very far. ❜

❛ And for a moment when I'm dancing I am free. ❜

❛ Is this how it is? Is this how it's always been? ❜

❛ Oh, don't you wanna call it off? ❜

❛ But there is nothing else that I know how to do; But to open up my arms and give it all to you. ❜

❛ I don't know how it started; Don't know how to stop it. ❜

❛ Something's coming, so out of breath. ❜

❛ I just kept spinnin' and I danced myself to death. ❜

❛ And do they speak to you? 'Cause they speak to me too. ❜

❛ Never really been alive before. I always lived in my head. ❜

❛ Sometimes it was easier, hungover and half-dead. ❜

❛ I'm back in town, why don't we go out? ❜

❛ I came for the pleasure, but I stayed for the pain. ❜

❛ If you get spat on, that's just your big city baptism. ❜

❛ I thought that I was here with you, but it was always just an empty room. ❜

❛ What a thing to admit, that when someone looks at me with real love I don't like it very much. ❜

❛ Is this something that you would like to discuss? ❜

❛ And it's good to be alive, crying into cereal at midnight. ❜

❛ If they ever let me out, I'm gonna really let it out. ❜

❛ But, oh God, you're gonna get it. You'll be sorry that you messed with me. ❜

❛ Everyone treated us like little pets. ❜

❛ Oh, tell me, it's not over yet. ❜

❛ In my darkest fantasies, I am the picture of passivity. ❜

❛ When I decided to wage Holy War, it looked very much like staring at my bedroom floor. ❜

❛ And I know I may not look like much, just another screaming speck of dust. ❜

❛ Well, did you miss me? ❜

❛ I've been expecting you, I'm ready. ❜

❛ Deliver me that bad news, baby. ❜

❛ Am I your dream girl? ❜

❛ You think of me in bed, but you could never hold me and like me better in your head. ❜

❛ Make me evil. Then I'm an angel instead. ❜

❛ At least you'll sanctify me when I'm dead. ❜

❛ Well, did I disappoint you? ❜

❛ Do I just remind you of every girl that made you mad? ❜

❛ Make me perfect, make me your fantasy. ❜

❛ You know I deserve it. Well, take it out on me. ❜

❛ I am nobody's moral center. ❜

❛ All the things that I ran from, I now bring as close to me as I can. ❜

❛ All this work gone to waste. ❜

❛ I used to see the future and now I see nothin'. ❜

❛ Well, can you see me? I cannot see you. ❜

❛ Everything I thought I knew has fallen out of view. ❜

❛ All the gods have been domesticated. ❜

❛ Heaven is now overrated. ❜

❛ Well, you can take your complaints straight to the Lord. ❜

❛ I try to still look with wonder on the world. ❜

❛ Heaven is here if you want it. ❜

❛ Hell, if it glitters, I'm going. ❜

❛ You know I always get my man. ❜

❛ I couldn't help it, yes, I let it get in. ❜

❛ The helpless optimism of spring. ❜

❛ I'm not bad, I'm not good. ❜

❛ Made myself mythical, tried to be real. ❜

❛ There is no bad, there is no good. ❜

❛ A generation soaked in grief; we're drying out and hanging on by the skin of our teeth. ❜

❛ I never thought it would get this far, this somewhat drunken joke. ❜

❛ Sometimes I see so much beauty I don't think that I can cope. ❜

❛ So tell me where to put my love. ❜

❛ Am I quiet enough for you yet? ❜

❛ You said this could have been the best thing that ever happened to you; So you decided not to do it. ❜

❛ If I was free to love you, you wouldn't want me, would you? ❜

❛ Unavailability is the only thing that turns you on. ❜

❛ I've blown apart my life for you. ❜

❛ Come here, baby, tell me that I'm wrong. ❜

❛ I don't love you, I just love the bomb. ❜

❛ I've been here many times before. ❜

❛ I should've come with a warnin'. ❜

❛ I'll show you what it means to be saved. ❜

❛ Oh, you know I'm still afraid. ❜

[mysteriouslover1516]

Death in Duskwood

DISCLAIMER: Everyone is at the cabin in the woods, making it easier for this scene to take place. When the MWAF shows up, he realizes that MC is actually already in Duskwood.

“Have you figured out the location of the stream yet?” MC asked as she peered over the hacker’s shoulder.

“No, he is hiding behind encryptions. A rather good job I must hand to him.” Jake answered, trying to not show the effect the live stream had on him.

“Jake, it’s okay.” MC’s hand found its way to the top of one of his. “It’s okay to be worried.”

“Look at her,” Jake sighed as his fingers tapped on the desk. “You can tell that she has cuts on her face, it looks like she lost weight, the ropes around her wrists are probably chafing. She’s clearly been drugged, how could he do something like this?”

“I don’t know,” MC shook her head. “But we’re going to bring an end to this nightmare, I promise.”

“We have to save her, and save Richy too, we need to bring Michael to justice.” Jake insisted. “But right now it’s like we’re at a standstill, I feel utterly helpless, MC.”

“You really think it’s Michael?” MC asked, biting her bottom lip.

“Everything points to him as the culprit. He’s basically the legend, MC. His daughter was killed in the forest, no one admitted their guilt and involvement, so he took the law into his own hands. He found those who were responsible for Jennifer’s death, and now he’s punishing them.”

“But why was Amy killed and Hannah wasn’t? In Hannah’s texts it says that she was the one driving, not Amy.” MC reminded.

“I cannot answer that question,” Jake sighed. “I do not know why Amy was killed and Hannah wasn’t. I can only guess it’s because he wants to make a statement and kill Hannah tomorrow, on the anniversary of Jennifer’s death.”

“And why was Richy captured? Nothing in your sister’s chat referenced any involvement on his part, right?”

“At least not that we can see,” Jake agreed. “And Richy showed no sign of knowing of the incident, especially not to the point of  being involved in it.”

“It just doesn’t make sense. Michael would be far too old for this.”

“There’s no other explanation, MC. All the photos Jessy took of the evidence was found at the Hanson house.”

“What if he’s being framed? The kidnapper is pinning it all on someone who has been dead for years?”

“We do not know if he is really dead though. He could have been hiding out all these years.”

“I think that’s unlikely,” MC walked to the window and gazed at the forest woodland. “But I don’t know anymore, I feel like I’m slowly losing my mental health.”

“It will end soon, MC. I promise.” The hacker’s warm breath appeared near her shoulder, arms wrapping around her waist. “We will find Hannah, and Richy too.”

“And what happens after that?” MC turned around, placing her hands on the top of his shoulders. “What happens to us?”

“We will make the most of whatever time permits,” Jake said. “You have seen what a life with and without me can look like, and if you really want to make this work, we will find a way.”

“Yes.” MC smiled, “More like I will find the way.”

“With my help of course,” Jake smirked back, the corners of his blue eyes slightly crinkling.

MC’s phone buzzed in her back pocket, causing her to pull away from Jake’s embrace. Her throat grew dry as she read the message on her lock screen.

I am coming, MC.

“What does this mean?” The palms of her hand started to get sweaty, “He doesn’t know where we are, right?”

Jake quickly darted back to his computer, pounding away on his keyboard. “MC.”

“You’re scaring me,” MC said as he locked eyes with her. “Please tell me we’re safe.”

“When we opened the maps app on Hannah’s phone, we turned on location sharing. Michael knows where we are, MC.”

“It’s all my fault,” MC sunk on the bed, her head finding refuge in her hands. “We’re in danger.”

“I was the one who instructed you to open up the maps,” Jake shook his head as he joined her on the bed. “It’s my fault, not yours. I will take full responsibility for what happened when we tell the others.”

“No, we did it together, we share the blame.” MC stood up, “They will know we would never do something like this on purpose.”

“We need to warn them,” Jake took her hand and led her down the stairs.

“Guys?” MC called out, “We need to talk, it’s important.”

“What is it, MC?” Thomas asked as he walked into the living room, the others slowly traipsing in behind him, Dan bringing up the rear with his wheelchair.

“We need to leave the cabin now. Michael knows our location.” MC said.

“What?!” Jessy gasps, “How is that possible?!”

“When we opened up the maps app on Hannah’s phone, we unintentionally turned on location sharing. Michael knew this would happen, he had planned for this to occur.” Jake informed.

“It was a trap,” Cleo mumbled.

“He knew I’d take the phone,” Thomas’s voice faltered. “It’s my fault.”

“No, finding Hannah’s phone helped reveal the truth of what happened ten years ago.”

“It’s not your fault, Thomas.” The hacker agreed with MC. “But now we have to get to safety.”

“I have an idea,” Dan raised his hand mockingly. “We stay.”

“What?” Lilly whipped her head around to gawk at him.

“We’ve run long enough, it’s time to end this.” Dan insisted. “We can get this masked freak.”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but he’s right.” MC nodded, “We even have the upper hand in the element of surprise.”

“Exactly! He won’t expect us to defend ourselves.” Dan smiled proudly as MC took his side.

“You really think we can do this?” Jessy hesitated. “Really stand up to him?”

“For Hannah we can. For Richy we can. And for ourselves, yes.” MC took the redhead’s hands.

“Quite an authoress,” Dan clapped at MC’s little motivational speech. “Who’s with us?”

“I am,” Cleo said in a firm voice. “I’m done running.”

“For Hannah,” Lilly agreed, “for Richy.”

Thomas nodded, “We can pull this off.”

“You are all either very brave or very naive,” Jake finally spoke. “I don’t know which.”

“We have a weapon too,” Dan remembered. “And there’s only one of him and six of us.”

“A weapon that we don’t know who it belongs to,” Cleo narrowed her eyes. “ Anyone going to confess to owning it yet?”

The room remained silent as everyone shared gazes with each other, no one willing to admit bringing the pistol.

“There is something you all have failed to consider.” Jake said, “Michael does not know MC and I are also here in this cabin.”

“I see that more as another advantage,” Dan brushed off the hacker’s concern. “More of us against him.”

“But MC is in danger now,” Jake’s voice was low.

“No offense, but we’re all in danger. We all have been in danger since the very beginning of this mess, even before MC was. It’s nothing new.” Dan glared.

“Dan, stop it.” Jessy rolled her eyes at her boyfriend.

“Yeah yeah,” Dan sighed. “Hackerman is just worried, I get it.”

A faint blush spread across Jake’s face, but his jaw still remained set. “We must do everything in our power to keep her safe.”

“Jake, that’s not-” MC started.

“He’s right though,” Cleo agreed. “Michael wants YOU, MC. You’re his main goal. He is attacking everyone else because he wants to affect you. He attacked Jessy while she was on the phone with you, same as Richy. Now he wants to attack us out in the cabin, he wants you to feel helpless.”

“It’s not fair to put everyone else’s life on the stake if I’m not willing to do the same,” MC’s eyes flashed. “I want to help and to do so we need to work as a team.”

“Since we got that out of the way, here’s the plan.” Dan emphasizes with his hands. “There are two entrances inside, the upper deck and the lower floor. Thomas will be stationed in the downstairs bathroom, Lilly and Cleo in the basement bedroom that has the window facing the road. Hackerboy and I will guard the main level of the house, Jessy and MC in the attic bedroom posing as the lookouts.”

Jake opened his mouth to refute the arrangements, but on a second thought he remained silent. Working with Dan might give him an opportunity to settle issues between him, and MC being on the top floor was definitely  the safest location for her.

“Who has the pistol?” Cleo asked, crossing her arms.

“I will keep it, I am the only one who knows how to use one of these.” Dan said in matter-of-factly tone.

“Speak for yourself,” Jake muttered underneath his breath.

Cleo still looked annoyed, but didn’t argue with Dan’s decision. “Okay, we better all get to our positions then.”

“Keep your phones on hand so we can communicate with each other.” Jake ordered, “And once everyone is in their prescribed location, shut off all the lights.”

“Okay,” Lilly nodded as she followed Cleo down the stairs, Thomas behind her.

“You better be careful,” Jessy pointed her finger at Dan. “Don’t try to play a hero.”

“I don't have to play a hero when I already am one,” Dan winked as she rolled her eyes.

MC stared hesitantly at the hacker, her eyes meeting his electric blue ones. “Promise me you’ll be okay,” she whispered.

“I promise, I won’t let anything separate us, MC.” Jake rubbed his thumb across the top of her right hand knuckles, and then he let it go. “Better get upstairs now, Jessica is waiting for you.”

Jessy rolled her eyes at Jake insisting on using her formal name, then the two girls headed up to the attic.

The two men stared at each other, both remaining silent until Dan spoke. “I still don’t trust you.”

“I know.”

“And I definitely don't like you.”

“I noticed.”

“But I can tell MC means a lot to you, and as much as it disgusts  me, I know she feels the same. And since I am actually a really generous guy, I am willing to lay my prejudices aside.”

“Thank you.”

“And no, you can not have the gun.”

“How did you know I was going to ask for it?” Jake was taken aback.

“Lucky guess, but you proved it right. If I somehow get injured, then you may take it, but until then it’s staying by my side.” Dan smirked as he patted the gun.

“Fair enough.”

“I’m glad we got that sorted, Jake.” Dan finally called the man by name.

“So am I, Dan.” The hacker returned the small courtesy.

“And so now we wait.”

“Yes.” Jake looked out the picturesque window, sweat forming in the palms of his hands. He had a bad feeling about this, one that was impossible to shake off.

“I’m scared, MC.” Jessy confessed as the two girls sat on the edge of the bed, looking out into the darkness below. “Does that make me weak?”

“No,” MC whispered softly. “It’s okay to be scared. I’m scared too, scared that something is going to happen to you all and I can’t prevent it.”

“I see something,” Jessy suddenly shouted, standing to her feet. “A light.”

“Where?” MC quickly joined her side, peering out into the blackness.

“There!” Jessy’s finger hit the glass as a light in the distance flashed. “And again!”

“I see it too,” MC’s breath grew shallow. “I’m going to text the others.”

MC: He’s here

Dan: Showtime. Is everyone in their places?

Thomas: Yes

Cleo: Lilly and I are in the designated bedroom assigned to us

Dan: Good, keep your eyes peeled.

MC shoved her phone into her back pocket, watching the light of what looked to be a lantern grew closer. “He’s walking towards us.”

“I’m so scared, MC.” Jessy quivered.

“I’m with you, Jessy.” MC held the girl’s hands, “I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise.”

Jessy hugged her tightly, their eyes never leaving the light which took on the illusion of floating. Then suddenly a small gasp escaped the redhead’s lips, “I can see him.”

“He’s challenging us,” MC said in a solemn voice as she took in the scene before them.

The MWAF stared up at the cabin, a lantern in his hand. The flame illuminated his masked face, a dark hoodie broadcasting his tall and what looked like a well-built form.

This can’t be Michael, it’s impossible. He looks too able still, too strong, it can’t be Michael. Michael’s dead. Thoughts dashed inside MC’s head as she watched the kidnapper tilt his head menacingly at the house, knowing that he was indeed seen. But if he wasn’t Michael, who was he?

Suddenly the light went out, causing Jessy to let out a small scream. “I can’t see him!”

“I can’t either,” MC said in a worried tone as she pulled out her phone.

MC: The lantern went out, I think he’s approaching the cabin

Dan: Keep your eyes and ears peeled, we can do this

A few minutes passed and then suddenly Thomas came online.

Thomas: I see him! He’s on the bottom deck

Cleo: I see him too!

MC: What is he doing?

Thomas: I can’t tell, but I’m going to go out there. I can catch him by surprise

Dan: Dude no

MC’s heart raced as Thomas went offline, this wasn’t good.

Cleo: I am going to try to help

Cleo then went offline, adding to MC’s fear. What were they doing? This was suicide! Why had she encouraged them to stay in the cabin?

Lilly: I have to help them

Dan: Crap

As the last two went offline, Jessy and MC grasped each other's hands tightly. “Why hasn’t Jake replied?”

“Because Dan is probably telling him what’s happening,” MC answered. “Jake is going to try to help them, I know he is.”

“Why can’t we hear anything?” Jessy panicked at the sheer silence.

“Jessy, we have to go to them.” MC looked at her.

“I’m scared.”

“I’m with you, Jessy. I won’t let anything happen to you, I promised you that.” MC said, “Please. I can’t do this without you.”

“One for all?”

“And all for one,” MC managed to smile.

The two girls gingerly made their way down the steps, MC in the lead, her flashlight illuminating the dark cabin. Not a sound could be heard except for the creaking of the floor underneath their feet, and the blowing of the curtain drapes from the open balcony doors.

“Dan?” Jessy whispered fearfully as she turned on her own flashlight. After getting no response, she shone her light on the stairs leading to the bottom floor.

Some sound captured the girls’ ears and both simultaneously casted their beams upon the MWAF.

A cry escaped Jessy’s lips as she fell backwards onto the floor, legs rapidly pushing her away from the masked man as he walked towards. “No, no, please.”

“Michael, stop.” MC spoke.

“MC?” The man’s voice was heard loud and clear, somehow familiar. “You’re in Duskwood.”

“Yes.” MC stepped in front of the redhead, shielding her from the man. “It’s me you want, not her, not the others. I’m the one you want to hurt, let the others go.”

“I have a reason for everything,” the man insisted as his voice held a tinge of remorse.

“I know,” MC bravely closed the gap between them. “But this is not the right way, you know that.”

Without warning the MWAF suddenly grabbed MC, yanking her around so her back was against his chest, his right arm pressing against her throat. “Don’t shoot.”

“Let her go,” Dan was suddenly seen in the moonlight that started to flood inside the room, both hands holding the pistol.

“Dan, you don’t want to-” the man started to say.

A gunshot rang out, the bullet whizzing through the air. Both MC and the kidnapper fell to the floor with a loud thud.

“What did you frickin do?!” Jake’s voice filled the room. “MC!” The hacker ran towards her and knelt by her side.

“Dan?” Jessy cried as realization took over.

“My finger slipped, I didn’t mean to pull the trigger. Oh god, is she okay?” Dan’s voice rose as panic took over, quickly wheeling himself over to where MC lay.

A steady stream of blood was pooling in the upper abdomen of MC’s shirt, her gasps filling the air mingling aside with the kidnapper’s groans. 

“The bullet went through her abdomen, hitting him as well in his lower stomach.” Jake’s voice was loud and strained. 

MC’s hand grasped Jake’s wrist as she tried to form words, “J-j-jake. Help Rich-ch-y.”

The hacker’s face fell as he realized her words, ripping the mask off the man.

“Richy,” Jessy’s voice was nearly inaudible. “No, it can’t be.”

“What happened?!” Cleo shouted as she ran up the stairs, the other two behind her. “We heard the gunshot, we were so worried that-”

“Oh no,” Lilly’s hands covered her mouth as she took in the scene.

“Richy?” Thomas almost stumbled, “You’re the-”

“I’m s-sorry,” the blonde’s voice was racked with pain. “It wasn’t suppo-o-sed to go this f-f-far.”

“You kidnapped Hannah,” Thomas said, shocked.

“She’s in the Grimstone M-m-mine, there’s a red s-scarlet rope that leads t-t-the way.” Richy gasped out. “I’m so s-s-sorry.”

MC’s hand found the mechanic’s as she weakly gave it a squeeze, “It’s okay, Richy. I f-f-forgive you.”

“Someone call the police!” Jake demanded as his attention returned back to MC, Lilly taking the initiative. “MC, please. This isn’t the end, remember? We haven’t had a future together yet, we haven’t even kissed yet. I can’t lose you yet, MC, please.”

“Shhh,” tears streamed down MC’s cheeks as pain shot up her stomach, causing her to cry out.

“Richy?” Jessy sobbed as the blue eyes she knew so well went dim moments later, his breath stopping.

Cleo hugged the girl, struggling to be strong for her. “His eyes.”

The hacker could barely see through his own tears but he managed to brush his fingers over the deceased mechanic’s eyelids, closing them. “He’s dead.”

“J-j-jake?”

“I’m here, MC. I’m always here.” Jake brought his hand to her face, brushing away the tears.

“I love you,” her voice somehow sounded stronger, the stutter fading. “Don’t ever forget that.”

“I love you too,” Jake wept as he pressed his lips to hers for the very first time. When  he pulled away, she was gone, the life had left her. Her eyes were closed, her fingers no longer grasping his. The girl he had fallen in love with had just slipped through his fingers. She was dead, his world was once again yanked from underneath his feet. She. Was. Gone.

“The police are on their way,” Lilly said as sobs climbed up her throat.

“I’m sorry, Jake. I’m so sorry,” Dan pinched the bridge of his nose, tears falling from his eyes.

“Find Hannah and I’ll forgive you,” the hacker forced himself to his feet. “I must go, I can’t be found here, not anymore. Find Hannah, tell her the truth.”

“Jake-”

The man was no longer listening as he took the steps two at a time, after cramming his computer and gear back into his backpack, he took one last look at the nightstand. MC’s necklace that had always hung around her neck since she was thirteen laid upon the stand, the night before she had gifted it to him as a token of her love. Underneath it was a polaroid picture of the two of them together, noses touching in what she called an eskimo kiss. More tears fell from Jake’s eyes as he placed the necklace in his pant pocket, stashing the photo in his closed computer. He wouldn’t ever forget her, she was the best thing that had ever happened to him, nothing would ever be the same anymore. Was it really worth living, worth living knowing she had died? He had to, because he owed it to MC, that is what she would have wanted. Bitterness and sorrow stole into the hacker’s heart as he disappeared into the shadow of the night, backpack upon his shoulders, MC was dead, and so was he.

Hey lovelies! ;) I'm sorry this one is so sad and angsty, but I feel like we really needed this. I hope despite the sadness, you can comment and like this oneshot. I love to hear from all of you, thank you! Love you. :) :(

[larsofthe-stars]

"Afternoon, everyone. Have a seat. Get a cup of coffee and a muffin. Also, a reminder: the Seminar Rooms are a weapons-free zone. Please make sure you've surrendered your weapons at the reception desk. I know, it's bullshit, but the last thing I need is an O5 complaining because one of you was walking around the Blue Zones with your piece. Everyone good? Cool."

"Today's seminar is about a subject near and dear to my heart: Reality Benders. Type Greens. Mary Sues. Bixbies, Shapers, Wizards, Gods, Devils, Outside Observers, call them what you will, these are the guys that change reality based on perception and willpower. I've made a career out of both containing and killing these guys. You're here to get certified to do the same thing."

"Want to know my secret? We'll get to that later. First of all, I want you to take a look at the doors to the seminar room. Notice something about them? Look again. What doors?"

"Yes. The doors are gone. Take a closer look if you want. Touch them. They're not there. The doors have literally disappeared. But that's okay, right? You can still get out the windows if you want. Except there's one small problem. There aren't any windows in this room either, are there? All the windows are gone. There's nothing but four blank walls, a ceiling, and a floor. No way out. But how did you get in?"

"Starting to freak out a bit? Don't worry, just take a deep breath. You're going to be all right. Just a bit of a change to the way the room's set up. It's not like anything worse is happening. I mean, it could be worse, right? At least you're safe in here. It's not like the desks are coming alive to kill you now, is it? Oh wait, yes they are. The FUCKING DESKS ARE GOING TO KILL YOU."

"What you gonna do? HOW YOU GONNA SURVIVE? THE GODDAMN ROOM IS ALIVE AND GOING TO EAT YOU. WATCH FOR THOSE FUCKING DESKS, THEY'VE GOT TEETH. GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM THERE, NOW. YOU WANNA LIVE? YOU'RE GONNA HAVE TO FIGHT! DON'T TRY TO DENY IT, YOU MOTHERFUCKERS, THIS IS REAL. THIS IS HAPPENING. THIS IS A REALITY BEND, AND YOU'RE GOING TO DIE UNLESS YOU CAN FIGHT IT NOW!"

"Oh, I see, a real TOUGH guy, huh? What the fuck are you gonna do with that 9mm? That gun really going to do anything? Against a REALITY BENDER!? I can turn your goddamn bullets into sand. I can turn your eyes into jello. I can turn your GUN into a fucking BAGEL, now PUT THAT DAMN GUN DOWN AND LIE THE FUCK DOWN ON THE GROUND, YOU FUCKNUGGET. I AM A LIVING GOD, AND YOU ARE NOTHING BUT A FUCKING INSECT!"

"What do I want? WHAT DO I WANT!? What the shit do I need from a fucking turd like you? I don't want ANYTHING that you can give me except to be my plaything. And that's ALL you fuckers are gonna be! You're gonna be nothing but toys in front of this God-King for all eternity. There is NO escape, NO respite. You will LIVE when I say LIVE, you will DIE only if I allow it. There is NOTHING LEFT BUT MY IMAGINATION, and you are all FIGMENTS OF IT!!!"

"…"

"… all right, hit the lights. Everyone breathe in and out, deep. Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out… you feeling better now? Let me tell you what just happened."

"Each and every one of you has just had a bad trip. All of the food on that back table was laced with a powerful hallucinogen. It's my own personal recipe. In addition to hallucinations, it renders one very susceptible to suggestion. Combined with some simple hypnosis and some special effects trickery, the end result is as close as we can get to showing you what a Reality Bender's attack feels like. The support staff are pumping an aerosolized counteragent into the air vents as we speak. It's going to feel like shit in a moment. You'll find barf bags under your chairs. Take a moment to let it all out."

"I want you to reflect back on that moment when you realized what was happening. Do you remember that feeling of helplessness? Do you remember what it felt like to realize that reality no longer existed, and you were nothing but toys for a hostile will that controlled EVERYTHING?"

"Remember that. And hold onto it the first time you're about to go up against a Reality Bender. If you ever think that, maybe, you can contain them? Or maybe they can be reasoned with? Remember what it felt like when you were tripping balls and nothing was real."

"Then kill that motherfucker before he knows you're even there."

"You're all certified now. Class Dismissed."

Good morning guess who js woke up