#one day ill fix that and finally be unstoppable

[kardds-arts]

im drawing again :)

[doodle-pops]

Seconds Chances Are Worth Living For

Maglor x human!reader

Request: Hi can I request an fic (or onehsot) where a human finds Maglor wondering the beach where he threw the silmaril and they help him? - anon

Warnings: human!reader, light angst with happy ending/comfort, depressed and gloomy Maglor

Words: 1.3k

Synopsis: Nobody ever said second chances in life were easy, nor were changes necessary to bring them.

“Will you not come with me?”

His heart twisted painfully; your words lingered in the air like an unwelcome odour he desperately wished to dispel. Too often had these haunting words surfaced in his mind during the agonizing days of solitude. Too many times, he found himself yearning for them to materialize into reality, yet he remained resolute in his pride, steadfast against the prospect of accepting forgiveness. Deep within, he longed for the warmth of a fireplace, enclosed by walls of solace and finality—enough respite from the harshness of the ocean waves and the mournful cries of seagulls.

His posture, detached upon the rugged rocks, nearly melding into the static structure, remained unmoved. On the contrary, you stood unwavering before him, your gaze fixed upon his threadbare form draped in the remnants of shame and despair. It was a clash between an immovable object and an unstoppable force, and you were determined not to be the one to yield. Whether it was destiny or the cosmic alignment that led you to his desolate presence on the shores of Forlindon, you were resolved not to depart without pulling him away.

Defiance surged through your veins as you continued to face his statuesque figure, yet you restrained yourself from encroaching upon his personal space.

“If you stay another hour, you may succumb to fatal illness,” you pleaded, voice above a whisper. A strong gust of wind roamed the shores, prompting you to curl your cloak around your shoulders tightly to your body. There was a faint chattering of your teeth as you gathered the courage to speak up again. “Please, there is a cabin not too far away from these shores. The least you can do is come with me for something warm to eat and drink, perhaps a warmer change of apparel?”

Maglor’s gaze stretched into the distance, fixed upon the horizon, while his fingers gracefully danced through the air, as if caressing an unseen harp. Murmuring unfamiliar words, too delicate for mortal ears to grasp, his lament echoed the sorrows of a bygone era when the world was in its infancy. This was the poignant scene that unfolded before you: Maglor, singing with a voice textured like sandpaper, tears encrusting his eyelids, lips weathered and parted, fingers weaving through the invisible threads of melody, and eyes reflecting a profound abyss of desolation.

In a single glance, your heart welled with empathy, and tears threatened to spill from your lashes. In a burst of compassion, you implored and beseeched him to find solace within the confines of your cabin, offering a glimmer of hope to bring an end to his eternal torment.

“Please,” –you stepped closer, dwarfed by his largeness despite his malnourished physique– “I’m not asking you to stay forever if that is what you believe I seek. I only wish to help you—”

“Why?” He spoke or rather, croaked!

“Well…” you fumbled, stunned at his ability to communicate after minutes of attempting to capture his attention. “Because it is the right thing to do.”

“Why?”

Flapping your lips like a fish and furrowing your brows to mimic confusion, you stammered, “W-Well, I mean—You shouldn’t be alone out here in the element…suffering. You deserve a warm bed and comfort.”

“Why?” You never imagined that reaching out to aid a person would become so difficult. Indeed he was proving to be an unmovable object, but you were willing to be that unstoppable force who spoke wisdom into him.

For a fleeting moment, your gaze descended from his lean countenance to the weathered rock upon which he perched, his nimble fingers still weaving through the breeze in search of a haunting melody. A serene ambiance enveloped both of you, juxtaposed against the impending unease hanging in the air. The turbulent seas clashed vehemently against the headlands and platforms, while the sky hinted at an impending tempest, prompting you to ponder earnestly on what he sought from you amid the impending cataclysm.

Rubbing your cheek to battle against the frost nipping at your skin, you pinched your lips, then scratched your head as though an oncoming headache was surfacing. “Because I want to help you and I believe you are in need of help. My mortal compass would not rest well knowing that I left someone out in the element to suffer when I could relieve some of it.”

“And…what if you are…” He never finished his words for his throat seized up on him, but they lingered in the air ringing obviousness to what he was conveying.

“Wrong? Then I will learn a life lesson to not trust strangers who are on the brink of death.” Releasing a chuckle as you crinkled your nose, you looked at him once more. “I rather spend my time helping someone in need of it instead of having restless days and nights knowing I left you to suffer. If I am wrong…—everyone suffers differently, the good, the bad and the indifferent. What matters is that I helped; what you choose to do after is your choice and path.”

For the first time since your encounter, his lacklustre gaze fixed upon your earthly form, shrouded in ebony. His eyes meticulously studied every nuance of your being, from the strands of your hair down to the contour of your chin, even discerning the intricacies of your skin that radiated vitality. It was a quality of his that had languished in purgatory for countless eons. Compelling his lips to part, his pallid complexion yielded, producing droplets of moisture that emerged, imparting a semblance of colour to his wistful countenance. “But…am stran…ger.”

Resisting the urge to physically shake him by his shoulder before being beyond complex, you huffed and widened your eyes, tears threatening to spill as your emotions swallowed you. “Yes, yes! I know you are a stranger! You could be a sea creature too for all I know, who crawled out the depths of the ocean to lament his sufferings to the surface world! But none of that matters because I know a suffering person when I see one because I too… Please, let me help you. Don’t…give up without trying. Let me help...”

Maglor drew in a slow, measured breath before exhaling. It felt as though some divine intervention, dispatched by the Valar to alleviate his torment, had arrived in the form of your unwavering determination. Perhaps the burden of his endless years wandering the shores had become too much for even the Valar to bear, prompting their counsel for his return. Alternatively, this could be yet another vivid dream, a product of years spent attempting to conjure solace. Regardless, it all seemed serendipitous.

Though he longed to inquire about his fate should he accept, the strength to articulate a single syllable eluded him. As his eyes locked onto yours in search of sincerity, he grappled with the duality of seeking both truth and deceit, yearning for the former.

Setting aside his infamous pride, swallowing it like a scalding-hot, white rod, a new chapter unfolded. The courage amassed since ancient days returned, instilling confidence in his actions. However, the lack of physical strength betrayed him, causing his legs to give way, sending him tumbling into the damp sand. In that moment, he felt an overwhelming desire to weep at the transformation he had undergone and the shame he carried. Your arms delicately extended, encircling his waist, as he clung to your figure. From a once-great prince to a desolate wanderer in need of mortal compassion, Maglor held onto you as you struggled to lift him onto his feet, leaning his weakened body against yours.

“All is fine, I have you. Just walk with me, small steps and we shall get there safely and securely,” you softly reassured as you carried him towards a new beginning.

Masterlist

Taglist: @lilmelily @ranhanabi777 @mysticmoomin @rain-on-my-umbrella @asianbutnotjapanese @batsyforyou @sakurayaxd @ladyenchanted @involuntaryspasms @stormchaser819 @aconstructofamind @addaigio @lamemaster @hermaeuswhora

[shesnake]

just finished watching s2 of the newsreader bc of you and i'll tell you, i think that i might need a rewatch to understand exactly where dale jennings wronged all these people the way i've seen some comments. besides tim, i think that helen was equally to blame at points with him - they just feel like they'd be great friends but bad partners - and the gerry thing is super complex because i genuinely don't see where else the tim thing could have leaked from and it's a shame they turned on each other when dale had managed to get him air time prior to the gossip columnist's calls. and with tim, i feel like the conflict really just maintained itself at the same scale it was at the end of s1. anyway, the only thing dale sees as valuable from himself is his journalistic skills, he's clearly more lost than ever in relation to his bisexuality and i feel for the guy. the day he unlocks it he's going to be unstoppable.

Hey there! Very glad you watched the show ❤ and you've kind of answered your own question with that last paragraph. Everything following is a (hopefully) more cohesive version of this post I made when season 2 finished:

Dale's professional ambition leads him to wronging everyone. Over the course of season 2, we can see him slowly shedding his principles and journalistic integrity, hoping to reach the status of a newsreader like Geoff Walters. His number one priority is to maintain his public image. He no longer fights for The Story, only for damage control.

When he sees a problem coming, he works harder to save face than he does to help fix the actual problem, leaving Helen to scramble around. He prepares a little joke and practices his laughter in the mirror so he can be unfazed when her interview with Lynus about his Aboriginal perspective on the bicentennial gets cut. On a public level it's incredibly racist!!! And on a personal level he's fucked Helen over. He "handles" Helen by dismissing her bipolar swings as "migraines", treating her mental illness the same way every other man has.

And with Tim... it hurts to admit, but Tim is just a very handsome plot device. A pretty vehicle for Dale's bisexuality to enter the plot. Tim exists solely for Dale to fumble. Sorry Tim.

In season 1, Dale's internalised homophobia becomes the story when his shitty interview skills leads to NA6 platforming homophobic AIDS rhetoric. Dale's delivery of misinformation was an accident, then Geoff comes in purposely to deliver the death blow. Dale throwing Gerry UNDER THE BUS was season 2's death blow. Regardless of whether it could've flipped the other way. He's so cold when he finally speaks to the gossip journalist. HE is the one offering HER the deal to stay silent about his bisexuality, because he knows he's made it.

Dale has always felt inadequate, as a journo and as a man. His clothes have always been too big for him. But by the end of season 2, after sacrificing all these personal relationships that made him more vulnerable, he's reached a point of privilege where the benefits of appealing to his public image outweigh exploiting his hidden truths. He is now The Newsreader. He gets on camera and delivers his bulletin, solo, in a black suit that fits him perfectly.

[deadpuppetboi]

Goretober Day 17: Twin

By theory, twins have a remarkable connection that can’t be matched.

Two figures born into the world, hand in hand, cry out once their pink skin is exposed to the elements. Yet, being held on their mother’s bare chest, they calm down, chests moving slightly as they finally sleep.

Waylon and Lisa Park considered themselves the luckiest parents in the world to have created two adorable baby boys. Having gone through the mental and physical strain of being new parents, they hold each other in an embrace with their boys in their arms. They figured that they could do this, together, and they wouldn't have to face so many problems soon.

Unfortunately, the two didn't realize how much work it took to care for two boys, especially when they were twins.

When one cried out, the other cried.

When one was upset, the other was upset.

When one was asleep, the other was asleep.

When one was in trouble, the other was in trouble.

The chaos was endless.

It was like the two were connected to the hip, nothing could have happened without the other half knowing what was what and why.

Kole and Cole Park were an unstoppable duo that stopped at nothing to either cause havoc or just have fun. Being a pain not only to their parents but to anyone who was in their line of sight. Now, even with punishments in line, the two did have their positives such as their childlike minds and their need to do better.

Either way, the two would do anything with each other, hand in hand, running off with a smile on their faces.

However, this night proved to be the most difficult and terrifying experience they’ll ever face.

They knew their father wasn't crazy.

He was just fine.

If something was bad, he would have told them so, he wouldn't have gone crazy at a whim and be thrown into an asylum just because. There was just no way he would have lost it, not unless he was trying to get his rebellious sons to bed, he was just doing his job.

Their mother’s explanation didn't help either, sure adults would have meltdowns but that wasn't like their dad. He was calm and collected even in the most stressful situations he would go out of his way to fix it without an issue. He was a great guy, not perfect mind you, but never one to be at the edge.

The boys then hatched a plan, due to everyone else having their hands tied, they went out of their way to find their father.

Knowing that their mother would be worried sick, they each wrote a letter and left it by their bedside. Packing what they considered to be reasonable for their trip over to the asylum, they ventured forth late into the night. Their heads held up high and questions needing to be answered, nothing could have stopped them.

But this place.

It was insane.

Completely and utterly insane.

There wasn't even a guard up at the front, just a Jeep, coupled with military trucks parked, all of them empty. Passing through, the two snuck through an open window, finally noticing the destruction that resided from the inside.

They should have left, called the police, or even run back home, but they didn't. They stayed and continued forth, hearts beating a bit faster as they clutched their pocket knives in their fists.

Hours had passed.

But it felt like days.

Crawling through the vents like rats, the twins found themselves lost as they roamed the asylum, the only thing keeping them going was the hope that their father was still inside and alive somehow. They've been spat on, bit, kicked, and even punched by various mentally and physically ill men. Having spent all their energy on running, all the two could do now was crawl into the vents, anxious to avoid any madman in their path.

They were dirty, exhausted, and second-doubting themselves on the whole operation. They had used whatever was left in their backpacks, their supplies getting lower, and they only had each other to depend on.

“We should go home,” Cole muttered.

“No, we’re close, I can feel it,” Kole argued, nearly stumbling over a dead rat.

Cole huffed, following his brother in dismay as they kept going. In his opinion, they should have stopped the second they stepped out of their home, worry settled into his stomach about how their mother must have felt. His letter wasn't so helpful and he's sure that Kole’s letter wasn't that good either.

So what was the point?

“How close then? I'm hungry and I think I threw up dinner an hour ago.”

Kole rolled his eyes.

“You’re complaining about that now,” he hissed, his voice cracking, “I think there are other things we should worry about!”

“What? The creepy priest or those naked guys? I wanna go home, we went too far, we’ll die here before we even find Dad!”

Kole stopped crawling, nearly making Cole knock into him, he turned back, anger laced into his facial features

“Dad’s not dead,” he cried out, “He’s just not!”

Cole shook his hands from side to side.

“I didn't say that! I said we could die! That's completely different!”

“I’m not stupid, Cole, I know what you meant!”

“I'm not calling you stupid!”

“Yes, you are!”

The boys then started to argue, the verbal insults then turning physical as they both wrestled within the metal vent. And like the child that they were, without the supervision of their parents, they started to land on near-critical hits. Although, because of their size and how skinny they were, they could only do enough damage.

It only stopped when Kole held Cole down, his face red and eyes wet with tears. Cole looked up at him, almost like a mirror, he copied his exact facial expression, right down to the strands of black hair that fluttered on top of their heads.

“We didn't get all this way just to go back! We came here to see Dad again and we’re going to see him again! Whatever this place said about Dad is a lie! You know it, Mom knows it, and I know Dad knows it because he wouldn't willingly work in a place like this without doubt the right thing!”

Cole just looked up at his brother.

“And Dad did the right thing! I know he did and we have to bring him home! I don't want to spend another day without him, Cole! I just don’t!”

Cole stayed silent, watching helplessly as his brother began to cry. Fat globs of tears ran down his cheeks, falling on top of his face and mixing with his own.

“Kole…”

“Sorry,” the boy got off his brother, drying his tears, “I’m sorry. Sorry. I'm sorry.”

Cole got himself up, unsure what to do, he awkwardly watched as his brother continued to let the tears fall. He let time fly by as he watched his brother cry, unsure if he would want a hug or not, he kept his eyes over the opening of the vents to distract his mind. With his brother’s cries invading his hearing, he tried to focus on the darkness behind him, the opening unnerving him the more he peeked into it.

He squinted his eyes, trying to make something out, thinking it was his mind playing tricks on him. He focused even more, moving his head forward before something began to move from the darkness.

Cole went to reach for his brother.

“KOLE-”

“Dirty, filthy rats!” A ragged voice screeched as two decrepit hands reached out, grabbed at Kole’s hair, and dragged him out of the vent.

A variant had held onto the boy, hoisting him up in the air with the hair on his scalp, as if he had caught the catch of a lifetime. Screaming complete nonsense as he shook him from side to side, effectively making the poor boy grow ill. Cole immediately crawled out of the vent and screamed at the man, pocket knife in hand, he tried his best to be as intimidating as possible.

It failed, of course.

The deformed variant looked right at Cole, jagged teeth spitting out saliva each time he spoke.

“Damn rats,” he hissed as he hoisted a struggling Kole in the air, “Always making a damn scene! Making too much noise! I just wanna sleep but you keep skittering around in piss and shit like you don’t give a damn!”

His grip on Kole tightened, making the boy cry out.

“I can't take it anymore, I want you to just shut the Hell up!”

He then threw Kole onto the ground, face first, right in front of Cole. Cole cringed at the sound of something cracking, like a carrot stick, and watched as his brother crumbled from the impact. Falling over to his side, his face turned over towards Cole, his nose snapped right to the side as blood flowed like a river. His eyes had a dazed look in them, maybe his brain had scraped against his skull to make that happen although Cole prayed that wasn't the case.

“Kole!”

The variant then stepped over Kole, face twitching slightly as his blank eyes stared right into Cole’s black ones.

“Loud,” he wheezed, “You’re too damn loud!”

He lunged forward, Cole only having enough time to hold his pocket knife to protect himself.

His body was fueled with adrenaline, the animalistic need to protect himself had invaded his mind. His heart raced, his mind running with every possibility, his palms clammy, and his limbs shaking. All of that, and yet that very moment, the boy had felt a sense of cold overtake him.

It was as if it had phased through him, like the gust of a cold wind breeze. He thought to shiver but his body refused to do so, having to instead freeze up as his eyes caught onto what had caused it.

The variant paused mid-lunge, eyes wide, and he started to shake his head. Struck with the same coldness as Cole did, he began to back away, shaking as he did so.

“The Walrider…” He whimpered and before he could turn and run he was subsequently grabbed and hoisted into the air.

His screams pierced the broken room, and both the boys snapped out of their dazed minds to see what was going on. To them, the variant was up in the air, struck up by some unknown force not seen by the naked eye. And yet they could hear the snapping of his bones, the gurgle of the blood that pooled into his mouth, and the outlines of cuts that seemed to appear all around his body.

As the blood seeped through, Cole thought through his terror and ran over to his brother, holding onto him in a vice grip.

“Kole!”

Kole hadn't answered him, eyes still on the spectacle before him, his eyes widened as he examined the variant’s body and began to split itself apart. Feeling dread come onto him, Cole had the split-second decision to look up as well, before an array of red had covered his vision.

The variant had been torn to pieces.

Witnessing the gruesome final seconds of his life, the boys watched as his body split itself into various pieces and flew across the room. Blood and guts rained down on them, splattering in a disgusting heap that squished and churned like how food was in a blender.

Silence fell upon the boys.

Struck with the fear of whatever they had just seen, not a single word could have expressed how terrified they were.

They wanted to cry.

They wanted to run.

They wanted to throw up.

They even wanted to faint.

But they didn't.

They just sat there, covered in another man’s flesh and bones, shock striking their senses before they finally began to notice a figure appear before them. Immediately, the two crawled back, Cole helping his brother as his body struggled to keep up with the conflicting thoughts within his head.

The figure wasn't a man although its form reassembled one greatly.

Wrapped within the wisps of black and gray alike, it stood (or rather floated) before the twin boys, inspecting them like how a scientist inspects a test subject. Although not saying a word, the boys had a pretty good idea of what it was capable of, having been the witnesses of the murder it just committed.

Cole held onto his brother and dragged him back, still raising his pocket knife, he pointed it straight at the phantom before them.

The Phantom tilted its head to the side, seemingly confused by the action before it backed off entirely. Disappearing through the walls of the enclosure, the boys were sure that they could have seen a form of a face appear upon its blank state. It looked concerned although pleased at what it had done, giving a sorrowful look on its face before it disappeared completely.

The boys were then left to their devices, soaked in blood, and their eyes wide with fear.

What was that?

[perianfrost]

Join the Chorus 16/25

Behold! A cranky old fanfic writer relearning how to meet writing deadlines!

December 16

Boots staggered back to Room 306 and collapsed face first onto a bed that wasn’t there.

Bruno walked in five minutes later to discover Boots holding a wad of toilet paper to his nose. “Wow, who’d you get into a fight with?”

Boots gestured widely to the empty space where his bed was meant to be.

“Hmmm,” Bruno said. “Let’s go talk to the girls.”

“You think we took your bed?” Cathy asked in barely-concealed delight.

“It was you or Bigfoot, and I don’t see what Bigfoot could do about it!”

Cathy shook her head. “I guess you better come up. But be quick about it, we still have two exams to take tomorrow, and we’re behind from being sick.”

“Sorry again,” Bruno said, and went up the drainpipe. It creaked alarmingly under his weight. Boots followed much more carefully, and was relieved when it held.

Diane shut the window behind them. “One day that thing is going to give out. You’re bigger than you used to be.”

“We’ll be long gone by the time it does,” Bruno said airly, throwing himself onto Diane’s bed. Boots caught his foot before it could dislodge her notes. 

She smiled at him in relief and gathered up the flashcards. “So Bigfoot stole your bed, huh?”

Boots shut his eyes. It sounded so stupid when she just came out and said it like that. “I don’t know. We’ve been losing things for weeks. I didn’t think the bed would be next!”

“We looked all over the Hall,” Bruno added. “It’s for sure gone. And clothes, our IDs, all my pencils? Boots’s binder! We can’t get new towels anymore because they keep disappearing! Fudge thinks we’ve lost it!”

“Have you ever had it?” Cathy asked.

Boots snorted. “All I know is I had a bed this morning and now I don’t. What do I tell the Fish when he asks why I’ve been sleeping in the library?”

“Just share with Bruno,” Cathy said dismissively.

Boots felt himself go very pale. Then very red. 

Luckily, Bruno’s gaze was fixed on the ceiling. “I can’t figure out how it’s doing it,” he announced. “I mean, it must’ve shown up in broad daylight! How did we all miss it?”

“Finals,” Boots croaked. “Studying.”

“And more tomorrow. But hey!” Bruno snapped his fingers. “We have all break to figure out what’s going on. And Elmer is staying too, he told me this morning. We’re unstoppable now, Boots, Bigfoot is going down!”

“You’re staying for break?” Diane asked. 

“Boy, are you behind,” Bruno said, and filled them in.

Cathy was furious. “Do you have my number or don’t you? If you’d told us earlier, we could have done that too!”

Bruno sat up. “No way.”

“Well, it’s too late now!”

“Well–well how was I supposed to know?”

“By texting me!”

“But you were mad at us!”

“Now I’m madder!”

Taptaptap. “Girls? Girls, is everything all right in there?”

“Of course, Miss Scrimmage!” Cathy trilled as Bruno and Boots lunged for the window.

Bruno got out first, leaving Boots on the sill in agonizing limbo.

“I heard men’s voices! Girls, open this door!”

Diane made huge sweeping waves of her hands in Boots’s direction as Cathy fumbled with the door knob. Boots grabbed the drainpipe and swung out just as Miss Scrimmage burst in.

He inched down as the headmistress bubbled about the state of the room, the late hour, and oh girls, you’re still ill enough to sound like a couple of boys and the window is open of all things, let’s just–

Bruno and Boots flattened themselves against the wall. 

“Such a lovely, quiet night,” Miss Scrimmage said happily, not three inches above Boots’s head. 

Boots pressed his forehead into the freezing drainpipe and tried to disappear. 

Bruno held his breath.

The window clicked shut.

Bruno exhaled just as the drainpipe peeled away from the side of the building in a banshee screech of tortured metal.

[madampoewrites]

⎘ THE SHAPE:

❝ Black cats and goblins and broomsticks and ghosts, covens of witches with all of their hosts. You may think they scare me, you’re probably right, blacks cats and goblins on Halloween night! ❞

HADDONFIELD, IL

↳ Haddonfield Memorial Hospital

━ O C T O B E R 3 1, 1 9 9 6

10:35 PM

A year has passed since Michael Myers last unleashed his terror on the small town of Haddonfield. In that time, Kara Strode and her son, Danny, have relocated to Chicago, while Tommy remains in Haddonfield, assisting Dr. Loomis with his work. Unfortunately, Dr. Samuel Loomis's health has begun to decline rapidly.

This Halloween, Dr. Loomis finds himself hospitalized after suffering a massive heart attack. It seems he has surrendered his relentless pursuit of Michael Myers. Luckily for him and the residents of Haddonfield, there have been no signs of the killer this year—no murders, no missing persons—only an undercurrent of anxiety and anticipation surrounding the Boogeyman's potential return. Before his hospitalization, Loomis had completed his memoir but fell ill before he could further elaborate on it.

In his hospital room, the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor mixed with the faint hum of the television. As late evening approached, he diligently wrote in his journal:

❝ As I lie here in this hospital bed, I’m overwhelmed not just by my ailments but by a deep, unshakeable dread. Last Halloween, sixteen lives were brutally taken. All victims of Michael Myers. Since 1963, my existence has been consumed by an obsession to stop the pernicious force that is Michael Myers.

Now, in what feels like my final days, I’ve come to understand that Michael is not just a man; he is a force of nature, unstoppable by mere physical means. I recall the words of Reverend Jackson P. Sayer: ‘You can't kill damnation, mister. It don't die like a man dies.’ How true those words ring as I remember seeing Michael take bullets and endure the flames of that 1978 hospital fire that would fell any other mortal being.

No matter the weapons we wield—bullets, bats, clubs—he endures. Michael’s end will come only when nature itself decrees it. Until then, he remains an embodiment of pure evil, defying all attempts to contain him. ❞

A nurse entered with a warm greeting. “Hi, Dr. Loomis. I’m doing my nightly rounds and wanted to check in before I left,” she said. Loomis set his glasses and journal aside, replying wearily, “Thank you, I’m fine.” The nurse offered him a half-smile before leaving the room. He leaned back, reaching for the remote on the nightstand to turn off the TV.

An hour later, Loomis awoke, jolted by an unsettling sensation—the feeling of being watched. His eyes darted around the room until they landed on the privacy curtain by the window. Behind it stood The Shape. “Michael,” he called out. The figure remained motionless. “If you’ve come to kill me, you’re too late. I have nothing left to give you. You’ve taken thirty-three years of my life, and I simply have nothing more to offer,” he said, his voice strained.

Though the curtain obscured Michael’s form, Loomis could feel the chilling weight of those black eyes fixed upon him.

“I pity you, Michael. Wandering aimlessly, taking innocent lives for sport. It must be exhausting to chase a high you can never attain again. One day, the darkness that consumes you will fade, and you will cease to exist. I may not be alive to witness it, but it will be a joyous day for us all. Damn you, Michael,” he concluded. As The Shape tilted its head, Loomis's heart monitor began to beep erratically—he was having another heart attack. Clutching his chest, the weary doctor kept his gaze on the spot where The Shape lingered.

As Loomis felt consciousness slipping away, The Shape vanished through the window. A flurry of footsteps echoed down the hallway as doctors and nurses rushed to his room. When they arrived, they desperately attempted to resuscitate him, but their efforts were in vain. Dr. Samuel Loomis was dead.

[corysmiles]

Little Streamer Au

I am not afraid of those I call friends

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Quote: “Appear weak when you are strong, and strong when you are weak.”- The Art Of War by Sun Tzu

Warnings: Implied PTSD, Injuries, burn scars, fear, angst, trauma, inhuman behavior mentioned.

Word Count: 1,457

Author Notes: A fic based Up Corysmiles little streamer Au, written by MaybeAPerson, please read the warnings or get f-cked, thanks :> Also, I would like to mention that even though I'm very familiar with Cory's Au, it still doesn't mean ill write the characters or story correctly. This is my interpretation of the event that would take place, so take it with a grain of salt.

(Cory, please add the readmore bar, thanks.)

Technoblade had crafted an online persona; who was unstoppable, undefeatable, unkillable, a being who one should fear, but in reality, he was none of those things.

In reality, he was the exact opposite, he was very killable, and no one feared him; he had the proof alongside the left side of his body the contracture scars left by a bunch of human teenagers having a fun little game with a lighter.

Maybe his trauma was why he never disclosed any personality information about himself even to those who consider friends, so when he found it, Tommy was human.

 Of course, it shocked him, well, not the fact the kid was tiny like himself, that he already begins to suspect from their amounts conversation together, but the thing that shocked him was how willing he was to reveal it to the world.

He watched vlogs and heard the conversation between his friends; they were so soft and careful towards Tommy.

 He felt the insecurities and fear in his head shrink down, to the point he foolish reveal valuable information. He told them he was tiny to in a moment to comfort Tommy. His friends were shocked, and their shock only began to rile his darker thoughts up.

So when Philza arrived in the US alongside Kristin, he couldn't connect with Phil. 

Maybe it was because he was plagued with the same nightmares that haunted him when he was younger after the incident, except now the teenagers were replaced by his friends.

Philza had the lighter in his hand, holding it towards Techno's body, who cried out for help, begging them to stop.

 His pleads were unheard as their only response was to mock him and torment him even more.

"What mate, you thought I would treat the same as human?"

 Wilbur laughed wickedly 

"Awww, look at the little Technoblade, the little piggy soon to be roasted."

Before it could continue, Techno woke up drenched in sweat and struggling to breathe.

So when the day finally came, Techno tried his best to overcome the nightmarish thoughts.

It was apparent to Phil how terrified Techno was of him, so he tried to keep his distance. 

Unbeknownst to Phil, it was a horrible decision.

 As Techno worked so hard to overcome his fear, only for Phil to unintentionally make Techno's effort seem pointless, Techno concluded he would no longer try to get any closer to his friend.

However, Kristin had other plans. She quickly picked up on what these fools were doing to one another, they both obviously cared about one another, and in an attempt to make the other happy, they just ended up hurting each other.

So she decided she would help both of them; she would help Techno overcome his fear and help Philza fix his relationship with his friend.

And she could do this all in one simple step, so as she sat on the giant table on the opposite side to Techno and Phil above her, both eating away silently, she cleared her throat, getting her husband's attention straight away.

 He looked down at her and immediately recognized that she was planning something on her face.

He tilted his head like a confused puppy and wearily smiled at his wife as he had no idea what she had planned.

"Heyyy, Philll." she softly asked.

he stopped eating and raised an eyebrow at her in confusion; not knowing what she wanted, he responded in the same tone and manner

"yessss, Kristin?"

She smiled, and he feared for himself and the poor bastard she was going to drag into her plan.

"I want you to hold me." She said excitingly.

He froze.

'that was it?' he thought 'no, that couldn't be it, could it?'

he nodded confusingly, answering

"Okay?"

He gently placed her hand beside her, and she quickly looked in Techno's direction; he wasn't paying attention to her, but she would fix that, so Kristin coughed as loudly as she possibly could

Techno's head snapped up in her direction; she smiled

'Success!' she thought.

So with not a lot of time before Techno would look away, she lazily threw herself backward onto her partner's palm.

Philza looked dumbfound; he had no idea why she acted this way, which scared him.

So Philza gently lifted his wife's tiny form towards his face, his face full of curiosity yet to figure out her plan.

She quickly sat up, throwing her body forward-looking in-between the gaps between Philza's fingers. Techno's eyes and body showed signs of fear.

Her one-step plan was turning into a failure. Not wanting her efforts to go to waste, she decided to wing it and blurted out;

"Oh, Phil, I forgot how soft your hand is."

silence briefly fell upon them until Philza laughingly asked

"What?"

he stared down at his wife, still somewhat confused, until suddenly a light went off in his head; he had just connected the dots. 

"Oh, yes, my hands are so soft, so very soft and gentle."

Kristin couldn't help but laugh at her husband's performance. It was terrible; however, she decided to look down at Techno, hoping for a better reaction, and surprisingly his eyes were now filled with confusion and enjoyment.

He even piped up

"Phil, man, you gotta let me know what moisturizer you use," he said jokingly, and from then on, the distance that they both assumed was too large to overcome became so small that they both could do it.

So Techno wanting to close the distances, finally turned to Philza after a late-night stream and damned said;

"Phil, I want you to hold me!"

Philza automatically nodded until his brain ultimately registered what Techno had just asked of him; his eyes widened, and he asked with a face full of shock.

"You want me to what?"

Techno five seconds of bravery began to fade as the time ticked away,

"Uhh, I want you to hold me regardless of how terrified I look."

Philza, of course, wanted to deny it outright, he saw how uncomfortable and scared he made his friend, and he was appreciated how far they had come, but the determination he saw on his friend was something he couldn't deny.

He Sighed with a soft smile upon his face.

"Okay, mate."

So slowly and carefully, Philza placed his hand on the desk, a bit away from Techno. He could already see the fear that made his body quietly shock.

Should he remove his hand, he didn't want to reset the progress they had worked so hard to make. His thought was interrupted as he felt pressure upon his hand; he looked down, stunned by what he had just witnessed.

Techno awkwardly joked

"Oh, I guess Kristin was right about how soft your hand is."

Philza softly chuckled, fearing that he would startle and frighten Techno if he chuckled any louder.

So he waited for Techno to give him the signal before slowly bringing him up closer towards his face. He felt the firm grip on his fingertip tighten as the closer he brought his hand up.

Philza stopped slightly, uncurling his fingers to see Techno better. He scanned the tiny form since he could see it far better. The smile on his face faltered and soon turned to sadness as he noticed the left side of Techno's body was severely decorated with scars.

Techno quickly brought his hand to his face as if trying to hide what Phil had already seen, causing the two to stay in silence, not willing to bring up the issue until Techno, feeling pressure by Philza's gaze, stated.

"Oh, sorry, Phil, I forgot how disgusting it was to look out."

Philza face filled with guilt mixed with fear, he panicky stated.

"Oh shit, mate, I was just thinking how bad it must have hurt."

Techno looked confused. Was Phil concerned for him?

He couldn't recall anyone reacting that way before all their response were the same 'eww, what's wrong with your face.' or 'how did you get that? You must have pissed off a human.' 

But the longer he stared at Philza's face, he realized the man didn't look at him in disgust or even in pity, but Philza was concerned for him and sad for him too.

Techno had no idea what to do or say, for that matter.

But he didn't have to do much as he felt a finger softly rub his back in circles; it was strange but comforting to him.

 Techno looked up at Philza, who starred back down softly. The two didn't speak. That's when Techno realized Philza was different; he didn't damned answers from him, and for the first time in Techno's life, he felt safe being held by a human.

Endnotes: Sorry if it's jumpy or not what you want; I haven't written Techno or Philza as main characters, more as background characters, and they didn't interact. Also, I couldn't write scenes since I'm lazy. And I decided to rewrite the whole thing at 11 because fuck it. So any mistakes or weird dialogue, oh well, it's fucking 1:30 AM, and I'm too tired to care, and I will probably regret my decision in the morning. Also, it's technically a fanfic, so you should have known it would be cringe and shitty :P

Cory notes: FATHER I LOVE IT!!! YES GIVE ME THE PHIL AND TECHNO HURT/COMFORT >:D do not regret it because I love this so much, thank you for this blessing (and reminder that I love your writing) <33333

[elminx]

Energy Update: September 2021

Happy September!

Numerologically, September is a 5 universal month [9 (September) + 5 (2021) = 14 = 1+4 = 5] in a 5 universal year. In numerology, the number 5 represents the pivotal moment in the middle of it all. It holds the vastness of all futures – both good and ill. 5 represents freedom and adventure. A 5 month is, in general, a time to tap in and go with the flow – it’s not a time to make your lists and check them twice; instead, it’s a time to think big and say “yes”. We’ve been sitting in 5 energy all year so this may feel like a bit of a homecoming for some or very nerve-wracking for others. This will have a lot to do with your own personality and comfortability with 5 energy.

Astrologically, the month of September is a mismatch for our 5 universal energy. We spend most of the month in Virgo season and may have to spend quite a bit of time putting in the work to catch up on things that we fell behind on during summer vacation. Whether it’s back to school or back to work, Virgo season always has a feeling of settling into your routines again or perhaps finding a new and more healthful routine.

The Setup

The Sun is in Virgo for most of the month, Mercury spends the entirety of the month in Libra, Venus finishes her stint in Libra and moves ahead into Scorpio, and Mars enters Libra at the midway point in the month. As our planets transit through Virgo, they are squaring off with the lunar nodes, trining retrograde Uranus in Taurus and Pluto in Capricorn, and opposing retrograde Neptune in Pisces. As they transit Libra, they are reactivating our Saturn-Uranus square through a trine to Saturn, trine to retrograde Jupiter, and opposing retrograde Chiron in Aries. Venus whose the head of our pack will be squaring off with Saturn and opposing Uranus once she enters Scorpio.

We are still under the effect of our Saturn in Aquarius square to Uranus in Taurus – this is our Unstoppable Force meets immovable object energy that is in effect throughout the rest of the year.

Additionally, we are deep into retrograde season with all of our outer and transpersonal planets in retrograde. Mercury will join these planets later this month for its third retrograde of the year in the sign of Libra.

For a sneak peek of October: Mercury, Jupiter, Saturn, and Pluto all station direct from 10/6-10/18 – this is the Green Light you’ve been waiting for. Now we just need to get there.

The Nitty Gritty

September is filled with contradictory vibes and may feel like a roller coaster. One day you may feel invincible and full of the highest highs but it is worth keeping in mind all month that what goes up must come down. We are all subject to gravity – plan accordingly. In particular, the first and third weeks of the month look fairly rocky while the third and fourth weeks have promise and moments of sweetness. This is a month to tidy up – to work smarter rather than harder. To pair down your responsibilities and make sure you are maintaining healthy boundaries around work, play, and excess.

The 5 energy may give the impression that it’s go time but it’s really not. Not yet. We will have six planets and Chiron retrograde by the end of the month which is always an indication that our energy is best expressed in an inward fashion.

Two of our personal planets (Venus and Mars) change signs this month which will personalize the energy with some emphasis on the relationships in our lives. While Mars is in Libra, we may be called to balance out the relationship energy we share with our others in some way – early on Mars will make an opposition to our wounded healer Chiron in Aries – there is pain to go through to get to the other side. Venus in Scorpio can be harsh and unyielding but also deep and seductive. These two energies do not sit well together, Venus may try to control (especially with emotions – using toxic tactics like the silent treatment or double binds) while Mars just wants everybody to find peace and get along. The more space you can give your others, the better off you will be.

Relationships may be especially tense around the new moon in Virgo on 9/5-9/6 as Venus in Libra squares of with retrograde Pluto in Capricorn while Mars in Virgo makes a trine. This year is all about transformations – first, we need to transform internally, but then this transformation needs to ripple outward and into our realities. There may be some break-ups and breakdowns during this time – it is likely that some long-term partners (Capricorn rules marriage, let’s not forget) are starting to realize that their connection has run its course.

In a year when it feels like we need to hold onto everything (influenced by our long-term Saturn-Uranus square in the fixed signs), this may feel catastrophic. Uranus in Taurus has a big lesson for us now: nothing lasts forever and retrograde Pluto in Capricorn is reinforcing this lesson. Now is the time to release what you have outgrown. It will likely feel very uncomfortable this month to continue to wear your mostly shed skin. As you navigate this energy, make the choices that are best suited for who you would most like to be, and you alone.

Herein lies the secret to navigating this month and really the energy of all of 2021: give up the illusion that you can control or “help” other people, and instead work controlling and “helping” yourself. As Anne Lamott says “Help is just the sunny side of control.” We are being pushed by our Saturn-Uranus square towards an ever-deepening understanding of this lesson and, since Virgo is a sign concerned with service and helping others, this will be especially accentuated as our sun transits the sign of the virgin. The lesson may come due on 9/14 as our Sun in Virgo opposed retrograde Neptune in Pisces – this is a day to give up the illusion (Neptune in Pisces) that we can control (Sun in Virgo) our Others.

Especially right now, our Others may be on an internal journey that is impossible for us to reach or understand. We’ve all had to make hard decisions and recalculations since the beginning of 2020 – beware of following your Others to a place that feels uncomfortable to be AND most especially of demanding your Others follow you to a place that feels uncomfortable for them. Be especially aware of projection and the illusionary stories that you tell yourself – especially as we approach our full moon in Pisces on 9/20 that is conjunct Neptune retrograde. As we enter our month to finally get shit done in October, we want to do so with our eyes wide open. See things as they really are, not as you would like them to be.

The entirety of September and October will be overshadowed by our Mercury retrograde in Libra cycle. Mercury enters its shadow on 9/6, officially retrogrades 9/27, stations direct again on 10/28, and doesn’t exit its post-shadow until November. The standard Mercury retrograde things apply: get your car fixed before the retrograde (change your oil, too!), double-check your work, save often, and watch out for miscommunication and upsets involving technology and travel. Because Mercury Chthonia is transversing backward through the Venus-ruled sign of Libra, this is another indication that this time will be spent re-thinking, re-imagining, re-editing things that have to do within our most personal relationships.

Mercury Chthonia’s path spans from 10° to 25° of Libra which means that it will trine retrograde Jupiter, just barely miss an exact trine with retrograde Saturn, square retrograde Pluto, and opposed retrograde Chiron not once but thrice through its retrograde journey. This will likely be the densest retrograde cycle of the year but potentially the most rewarding. If the message seems murky and unclear, write out your experiences for review after Mercury stations direct – you may find that there were hints of your lesson that you were too “in it” to see.

The lower energy of Libra is prone to emotional entanglements and codependency so it’s likely we will be revisiting these themes in our own lives during this time. Watch out for where you are not allowing your Others to differentiate or be themselves. Watch out for where you are stifling yourself to please your Others as well. Chiron in Aries is always a lesson in putting on your own mask first BEFORE you step up help an/Other put their mask on. Again, see above about maintaining strong boundaries this month – do less but make what you do count for more.

Balance truly is the way through this month but it may be hard to find. Practice your very best self-care and make sure that when you say “yes” to things, you really mean it. This is a month that could easier run away from you if you’re checking out on yourself or trying to do all of the things with no hand on the brake petal. Breath and put one foot in front of the other – slow and steady will get you to the finish line. Once our planets station direct in October, we will be able to move faster.

Below, I’ve broken down the important daily aspects of the month. Please keep in mind that the days listed are just the days that these aspects go exact in EST – strong aspects can be felt anywhere from 2-7 days (or more!) in advance of their completion and for a number of days afterward. I have bolded the most important aspects.

The Aspects

9/2 – Mars in Virgo opposed Neptune retrograde in Pisces, Moon in Cancer square Venus in Libra – this could spell relationship troubles. Mars is off in daydream land while Venus is feeling triggered. Lie low and try not to put undue pressure on your Others during these transits.

9/3 – Mercury in Libra trine N. Node in Gemini – watch out for Ah-Ha moments and signs that show you a way forward on this day.

9/4 – Moon in Leo squares retrograde Uranus in Taurus – here we see one of our four monthly days where the moon reactivates our Saturn-Uranus square. Lie low. Stay aware. Caution.

9/5 – Mercury in Libra trine retrograde Saturn in Aquarius – the energy is volatile – expect breakdowns and breakthroughs especially involving communication about long term things

9/6 – New moon at 14° Virgo, Mercury enters their shadow, Venus in Libra trine Jupiter retrograde in Aquarius, Venus in Libra square Pluto retrograde in Capricorn, Mars in Virgo trine Pluto retrograde in Capricorn – Pluto’s influence on this new moon (through both Venus and Mars) is unmistakeable – something has got to transform. With both and Venus and Mars involved, it may be a change within your relationships. Remember to reach for balance (Venus in Libra) and compromise if it is available.

9/7 – Sun in Virgo trine retrograde Uranus in Taurus – expect (and embrace) the unexpected during this time. What you hold onto too tightly may break. Stay away from the illusion of control during this time.

9/8 – Moon conjunct Mercury in Libra, Moon in Libra trine retrograde Saturn in Aquarius, Moon and Mercury opposed retrograde Chiron in Aries – this is an air grand trine which means that we are supporting in learning something during this transit. This re-activates our Saturn-Uranus square and Chiron – the lesson is likely to be heavy. Avoid using your emotions as a copout to understanding.

9/10 – Venus enters Scorpio, Moon in Scorpio square retrograde Saturn in Aquarius – this is our first hint as to what it is going to feel like to revisit our Saturn-Uranus square during Scorpio season. Take note.

9/13 – Moon in Sagittarius square retrograde Neptune in Pisces – something may be revealed today and it may feel like a major setback. Pivot your attention and focus on things that you CAN change.

9/14 – Sun in Virgo opposed retrograde Neptune in Pisces, Mars enters Libra – a repeat on 9/13 – you may not have all of the information. All that glitters is not gold. Watch out for “helper” behavior that isn’t helpful and victim/savior complexes.

9/16 – Moon conjunct retrograde Saturn in Aquarius – this is another of our four lunar activation points to our Saturn-Uranus square. Make sure the weight of the responsibility you are carrying is actually yours.

9/17 – Sun in Virgo trine retrograde Pluto in Capricorn, Venus in Scorpio square Saturn retrograde in Aquarius – in a month that begs for transformation, this is one of our powerhouse days – level up. Change may be uncomfortable but it will be even more uncomfortable to stay in your too-tight skin. Watch out for the control through emotional manipulation because this again activates our Saturn-Uranus square and Uranus is not having any of that shit.

9/20 – Full moon at 28° Pisces, Moon conjunct retrograde Neptune, Mercury in Libra trine Jupiter retrograde in Aquarius, Mars in Libra trine N. Node in Gemini – where are you going? do you have a path forward? Things may seem foggy and immutable at this time. Watch out for your boundaries and projection. The Mercury-Jupiter trine repeats during Mercury retrograde on 10/3.

9/22 – The Sun enters Libra, Mercury in Libra square retrograde Pluto in Capricorn, Venus in Scorpio opposed retrograde Uranus in Taurus – Happy Autumnal Equinox! The seasons are shifting but there’s a metric fuckton of tension in the air. Tamper down the emotional volatility – not everything needs to be a struggle. Tap into the Libra ideal of peace and balance for all. The Mercury-Pluto square repeats during Mercury retrograde on 10/01.

9/24 – Moon conjunct retrograde Uranus in Taurus, Moon in Taurus opposed Venus in

Scorpio – there’s a lesson here in letting go of control. This reactivates our Saturn-Uranus square…again. Step away from the Venus in Scorpio impulse for revenge.

9/25 – Mars in Libra trine retrograde Saturn in Aquarius – this is a good day to put in the work.

9/26 – Moon in Gemini trine Sun and Mars in Libra and retrograde Saturn in Aquarius. – another air grand trine. Show up for your own life – what you focus on grows.

9/27 – Mercury retrograde at 25° Libra – go slow. check your work. save often. Mercury retrograde 3-4x every year since this is normal Astrological Weather but still important to pay attention to. In the sign of Libra, Mercury will likely help you to rebalance something about your relationships.

9/29 – Sun in Libra trine Saturn retrograde in Aquarius, Venus in Scorpio trine retrograde Neptune in Pisces – you may want to work but it’s likely that your head will be in the clouds. Watch out for emotional dysregulation. The Sun activates our Saturn-Uranus square so caution would be advised.

9/30 – Moon in Cancer square Mercury retrograde in Libra, Moon in Cancer opposed retrograde Pluto in Capricorn, Venus in Scorpio square retrograde Jupiter in Aquarius – go slow, emotions are high. Misunderstandings will have a lasting impact during this time.

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[fearlessleaderbucky]

does Bucky ever get rid of the hydra arm in the comics? and what are those comics you've been posting from, I want to catch up on some Bucky loving

his arm gets destroyed Many Many times in the comics like. honest to god lost count. but it's nearly not as.. hmmm.... Dramatique™ as the mcu made it (like giving him a vibranium arm and bucky trying to distance himself from the winter soldier) so in a way he Did get rid of the arm. just. wasn't a big deal. tony fixes his arm up and gives him back-up arms too bc bucky is so reckless he loses it so many times LOL

let me remember wtf i read bc its been blurry as hell but heres ur "catch up on bucky loving" compilation with no order bc im a mess. this part is the "bucky is here for a short time but he amuses me"

what kickstarted everything was that i read winter soldier (2018) its like 5 issues and i was weeping the whole time like nooo bucky my meow meow

thunderbolts 2016 where bucky is their leader. i sure read that. i dont remember what happens on it tho. i liked strikeforce more 😭

strikeforce which is what i posted earlier before i went to bed. very funny. i loved it. its my fave teamup and it is bc most of my favorite characters are there hehe

tales of suspense which follows clint and bucky and i cant say no to that dynamic man. theyre funny

hawkeye freefall where sam and bucky are in #1 and #4 and #5

unstoppable wasp 2018 where he shows up in #7 and.. maybe the ones after that too he was there semi often but hes my fave. My beloved. my one and only

he's in sam wilson: captain america bc of course he is from #7 to #9.. or #10...

falcon & winter soldier (2020) which is just my religion basically

this is where i started being like Man bucky in the comics is just such a good guy. now i want More. so this is where its a little Longer and U Gotta Read More but its worth it bc ed brubaker loves bucky and you can tell he does so every run you end weepy over how much u love bucky

deep breath

captain america (2005) which is the official Bucky is Back run. this is where the winter soldier begins. if you're like me and you're like "man im only here for sam and bucky" you'll probably scroll down til u see them and u go AHH SHIT THERE THEY ARE. i linked you from the moment the winter soldier saga starts so :-) halfway through this turns into a bucky cap run! i am not a bucky cap enthusiast but contextually it works so well and its what the character needed. hehe

some point after bucky returns during that run he begins working undercover for fury which leads to winter kills which is like sad bucky hours BUT THE YOUNG AVENGERS ARE THERE

hes also in young avengers presents #1 which i could argue. you could skip. but i love eli and i love bucky so here he is. i wish i could order these chronologically i am just talking here

captain america and bucky for the sweet bucky pov that makes u wanna cry

captain america reborn which is just them bringing back steve. bucky is there. i dont remember much from it but its on my read list so

then its captain america #602 onwards til tje very endwhich follows bucky and zemo and all that jazz. lots of sambucky goodness imo. i dont remember if this is where the winter soldier trial begins but i think it is and then hes in siberia where he just has a very terrible not good very bad day

and then. My god. idk. shit happens. Some Event happened that i didnt read because reading comics is a lot of "and then you have to go to THIS EVENT" and im like. No thanks. so basically bucky dies, but he doesnt actually he just fakes his death so he could tie loose ends as the winter soldier. everybody mourns him even steve then theyre like Steve he didnt actually die oops. its This Issue

and then finally. winter soldier (2012) woah. its so good. Good shit. made me go through it so bad. you think you love bucky? think again. ed brubaker loves him more than you

thats p much where im caught up with bucky. he has more appearances that i'll eventually get around so ill probs update it hehe. sorry i dumped such a long list on you 😭

[smolbeanieee]

Once Upon a Time | Eight

strangers to lovers au

pairing: Younghyun x fem!oc 

genre: fluff, angst

masterlist

Wendy suggests that Dahee should stay at her place after she discharge because she dead worried if Dahee faints again, but the girl convince Wendy that everything will be alright.  Plus she need some space and time to thoroughly think about Dowoon and Younghyun.

Dahee really needs to fix this mess everything before anything happened.

But she didn’t how to start. 

She felt guilty, to Dowoon and Younghyun.  She shouldn’t push them away back then.

Sighing to herself, Dahee push her hair to the back in process as she fidgeting with her phone in her hands—debating whether she should call Dowoon or not, afraid her brother would not want to meet her after what has happened. 

Dowoon has all the right to be mad and upset at her.  He didn’t do anything wrong.  She did, Dahee thought.  All did Dowoon want is to meet her and make things right but will he takes Dahee back? Accept her back like old time? Dahee is afraid of what consequences will comes.

Her mind wanders more on what she should do about Dowoon.  She knows Dowoon won’t easily forgive her after what she did.  Especially to his bandmates—Younghyun. 

Dahee messed up badly this time.  She hurts two people—the ones she cherished and loved the most.  Hanging her head lowered, Dahee bite her lips in nervousness and guilt washed over herself.

As Dahee’s mind trying to process the situation that keep eating her alive, her phone vibrating makes her train of thought stop and looks at the caller name. 

It’s Taeyong.

Without thinking much, Dahee picks up her phone and makes herself comfortable on the couch as her back softly hits the cushion, crossing her legs in process

“Why? You wanna have breakfast with me?” Dahee jokingly asked as she glance over the clock in front of her that shows 08:45 a.m.  The usual time Taeyong would randomly asked her for a breakfast outing near their apartment before going to his office.

However, this time isn’t about the damn breakfast.

“Dahee, it’s about your dad” Taeyong’s voice seems stern and out of breathe as if he is rushing to somewhere.  Usually, she would felt frustrated and annoyed hearing Taeyong talked about her dad but this time Dahee’s instinct felt uneasy—like something bad has happened.

Dahee lets out a shaky laugh, trying to brush it off her feelings “Why did you keep on brin—” Before Dahee could finished off her words, Taeyong interrupts.

“He’s in hospital right now.  The doctor said, he may not have much time left”

Upon hearing Taeyong’s words, she immediately jolted from her place.  Dahee felt her world are collapsing, causing her lips quivering in shock as her brain trying to process the news slowly.  Unconsciously, her vision seems blurry to her as hot tears are brimming in her eyes, making she fell on the ground—her legs are shaking too much from the sudden call. 

Her heart wrenched in pain.

Feeling as if nothing going in her way she wants.

For once, Dahee felt she needs her dad.

———

Dowoon take a place on the couch as soon as he reached their shared apartment.  He lets his head resting on the soft couch as his mind keeps on wandering back to his sister.  Will she gets angry is she knew he is the one who asked Taeyong to call her about their dad? Will she comes and find him?

He felt lost without her sister.  All he want is to reunite with Dahee but things gone wrong.  Maybe the timing has gone wrong.  He feels if only he didn’t makes Younghyun to bring him to Dahee, maybe now none of this will happened. 

As Dowoon keeps losing track of reality, Sungjin came and sat beside him—startling the drummer in process, making Dowoon looked up at the oldest and flashing him a flat smile but couldn’t cover his uneasiness expression on his face.

“Oh hyung, I thought everyone is at the studio.”

“How could we practicing when you’re having hard time here.  The others went out and looking for breakfast. and practice will starts when your dad’s health is recovered again.” Sungjin said as he turned on the morning shows on the television but he knew something is wrong with the youngest.

Dowoon just nods softly hearing his leader’s words, his mind to busy to process as he lets out small sighs which go unnotice by Sungjin.

“Is everything at the hospital okay?” Sungjin asked, nudging Dowoon using his knees, earning attention from the youngest. 

Dowoon didn’t look surprise when Sungjin asked about his dad’s condition as the members are the first people Dowoon tells about his dad.  “I asked Taeyong to call my sister to come to the hospital.  I’m sure she don’t want me to be there if she came.  That’s why I’m here.”

Sungjin hums in understanding, looking carefully at Dowoon before deciding to asked him a question that might hurt him more. “So Dahee will finally know about your dad’s condition all this while?”

It’s a long pause as Dowoon trying to find better excuse, no—words.

“It’s for her own good.  I know how much angers she has to our dad so much.  I don’t want her to get her hurt again knowing about dad’s illness.  She went through a lot for our family.  It’s the last thing I wanna tell her but today, my dad insisted to meet her.” Dowoon softly replied, almost like a whispered. 

“It’s alright.  She will understand soon why everyone keeping the secret from her” Sungjin console him, giving couples of pats on Dowoon’s back, in hoping it will soothe the drummer. 

After couple of minutes the two boys sitting in silences with only sounds from the television, Dowoon decide to break the silence.

“Hyung..“ Dowoon’s trailed on his words, making Sungjin turns his attention to Dowoon.

“What?”

“Did Younghyun hyung made up his mind already? Will he really do it?” Dowoon curiously asked about the bassist. 

Few days ago, Younghyun blurt out something that really left the band in shock—saying he needs to find himself back, which is in Canada.

“I don’t know.  But if that makes him at ease and peace, let him be.  It’s his decision after all. We can’t stop him, we aren’t in his shoes.  Who knows what he felt right now.” Sungjin explained, earning few nods from Dowoon—secretly hoping that Younghyun didn’t really have to go back to Toronto, leaving the band, especially his sister, Dahee.

———

“W-what did you said?” Dahee’s voice echoed through out the empty hallway of the private ward.  Dahee couldn’t believe her ears on what the doctor said as if her ears betraying her at the moment.

“I’m so sorry but the cancer has spread all over his main organ and your dad is at risky stage now.  There’s nothing we could do as the operation will makes his condition worsen.  I’m afraid he wouldn’t have much time left.  I’m so sorry again.” the doctor bow in apology and walked away as Wendy thanked him on Dahee’s behalf.

Dahee’s heart were racing so much and with a blink, her legs felt like a jelly and nearly fell on the tiles but Wendy quickly catches her into her arms.  Wendy brought the girl to the nearest bench, consoling her down from the news as she patting her back in soothing manner—her sobs and hiccups could be heard clearly, eyes bawling so hard till her vision becomes blurry as tears are unstoppable rolling down her puffy cheeks.

“What did I do to deserve this? Why it happened to me?” Dahee softly asked as she wiping out her tears from her face, and looked up at her bestfriend—calmly waiting for her answer, but the silence gives her the answer which makes she cries even harder in Wendy’s arm.

———

“So out of many people, I’m the last one to know about my dad’s condition that you been keeping from me?” Dahee asked in cracked voice, head hung lowly, looking down at the ground with both hands clasped together.  Dahee knew she did asked Taeyong not to talked about her dad but she didn’t expect this.  Dahee may be mad and upset at her dad, but not in this situation, especially about his condition, his life. 

“I do want to talk to you about this but Mr. Yoon insisted me not to tell you about this.  He said he don’t want to burden you anymore—he said, he deserve this after what he had done back then.” Taeyong explained as they sat together on the bench at the garden’s hospital—distinct chattering from other people accompanying them.  

Upon hearing his words, shaky sighs leaves Dahee’s lips as she bites her lower lips in process, trying to control her tears from falling down again for the nth times today. 

“And Dowoon, he kne—”

“Yes, Dowoon knew about this since beginning.  In fact, he’s the one who always be at your dad’s side during his treatment.  He don’t want you to know about this, he afraid it will hurt you even more.” Taeyong softly explained to her as he glance over the girl next to him who had her fingers running through her hair in frustration and devastation.

“I meant—how could they---keep it behind me? I-It’s really hurts me...so much.”

“I’m sorry.” Taeyong shouldn’t be sorry, Dahee thought.  It was her fault for leaving her dad and Dowoon back then.  It was her who being so selfish all this while.  The one who pushed Dowoon away.  All because of herself.  Dahee never the type to blame herself but not this time.  She’s the one who caused all of this mess.

Starting from her dad, Dowoon and finally, Younghyun—Dahee needs to fix the mess she made quickly, before it’s too late..

——— 

It’s been two weeks since Dahee’s has been admitted into the ward.  Through the week, Dahee always be by her dad’s side, not once she left the the private ward.  During the whole week, Dahee hopes she could meet with Dowoon, but he didn’t show up at all.

Did Dowoon really hates her now? Don’t Dowoon want to meet with her? What if Dowoon gonna gone from her life completely? Why didn’t Dowoon come and meet their dad? Will Dowoon avoid her completely? Those thoughts keeps on wandering in her mind all week.  She wants to everything went back to normal but things doesn’t seems to go in her way as she likes it. 

But little Dahee didn’t knew is—Dowoon is closer to her than she thought.  He always went to the hospital, in fact, he didn’t missed out any day to visit.  However, he didn’t have the courage to knock on the door and meet with his family—he would just glances over the window at the door whenever he drop by.  Dowoon is afraid that Dahee would gets upset again and worse, he didn’t get to meet his sister again.

Just as Dahee were about to doze off on her chair from the tiredness accompanying her dad, she heard soft groans coming from her dad’s bed, making she jolt from her seat at the slightest sounds—quickly rushed over to her dad’s side.

“Why? Do you need something?” Dahee asked when her dad murmuring some words as he slowly removed the oxygen mask attached to him but barely heard by Dahee so she moves closer to him.

“I’m sorry for hurting you this past years.  I’m not the best father you had.  I’m sorry for that.” Mr Yoon said as he softly took Dahee’s into his hands that full with needle drips and all sort of needles—gently strokes his daughter hands that he has hurt and lost for a long time  His words makes Dahee chokes and sobs softly as tears threaten to fall down.

“Dad...” Dahee were unable to form incoherent words as if big lumps blocking caught up in her throat.

“Thank you for taking care of me.  I don’t feel I have much time left.  I’m sorr—” Just before her dad could finished his words, loud beeping coming from the machine next to her dad, catching Dahee in surprise—his heartbeat were dropping and his eyelids are slowly closing in process. 

Quickly, she pushed the emergency button, alarming the doctor and nurses—hoping they would come fast at the moment.

“Dad! Don’t leave me! Wake up! Dad!” Dahee cries harder looking at her dad’s condition.  ‘This can’t be happening’, she thought as Dahee continues to shakes his dad, hoping he would conscious.  Tears were brimming in her eyes when Mr Yoon didn’t even respond to her anymore and his body felt weak as Dahee holds his hand tightly.

“Dad don’t leave me! Why you’re doing this to me?! Dad!!” Dahee wails even harder when one of the nurses come into to room along with the doctor as they rushed to the bed.

“Miss, please leave the room while we check up on him.” The nurse tries to guide her out from the ward even though Dahee keep on resisting.

“I can’t leave him!” Dahee sobs harder when the nurse take her out from the room, leaving her standing alone in front of the door. 

The nurse tries to convince a crying mess Dahee “Please cooperate with us, we’ll take care of Mr Yoon.”

“I’ll take care of her.” A familiar deep voice that Dahee recognize suddenly shows up beside her as his arms slung over Dahee’s shoulder—pulling her closer as if protecting her.

Dowoon looks down at her sister’s face, guilty and heartbroken slowly crept into his soul—feeling wronged towards his sister to let her felt hurt once again.  Gently, Dowoon pulls Dahee closer to him as he tightly hugged her into his embrace.  His hands softly rubbing her back  to calm her down. 

As sadness washed over her again—knowing that she could never see her dad again or be with her dad while he alive, Dahee can’t help but to sobs and cries harder in her brother’s arms, Yoon Dowoon. 

———

The funeral went smoothly with lots of people help around Dahee and Dowoon without the reporters or journalist interruptions as the funeral were held privately even though Mr Yoon is a well-known businessman.  After their dad were safely buried, Taeyong decide to took the two siblings to Dahee’s apartment—giving them some space from the reporters invading their grieving period. 

As soon they reach her place, Dahee went straight into her room, leaving the two boys worried over her but deeply, they do understand what Dahee has gone through. 

“It’s been a roller coaster for both you.  I already put your things in the room next to your sister’s room.  It’s your sister’s place, make yourself comfortable, yeah? Call me if anything u need.” Taeyong softly patted Dowoon on the shoulder as he makes his way out of the apartment—leaving Dowoon alone at the living room.

He take a good look around Dahee’s home.  His lips curled into a small smiles as soon as he saw couple of pictures from their childhood and their parent’s picture. 

His tracks stopped at a portrait photo of their family—it was taken during Dahee’s middle school graduation.  They looked so happy back then but that was in the past.  Dowoon felt his heart wrenched in pain as if someone has stabbed him with a knife.  He thought they would gather as family like old times when they found Dahee, but it didn’t work in that way.

———

Few days passed and the siblings didn’t even talk or meet with each even though they stay under one roof.  Dahee always keep herself inside her room, crying every night if she could and didn’t even eat properly.. While Dowoon are worried about his sister but at the same time, he wants to give time and space to Dahee—no matter how long she take. 

To Dowoon surprise, he found Dahee in the kitchen, eating her breakfast as her expression were unreadable to him.  Feeling he shouldn’t disturb or said anything to her, he quietly makes his breakfast at the stove with his back facing her.

It were a chill silent between the two siblings.

But it was Dahee to break the ice between them.

“If you don’t mind, can we talk after you finish your breakfast?” Dahee’s soft voice break through the kitchen, catching Dowoon off guard as he quickly turns his attention to Dahee.

“O-okay.” Dowoon stuttered, baffled with the atmosphere but then calm down when Dahee went to the sink to wash her plates and quietly went to the living room, waiting for her brother.

———

Soft sighs leaves Dahee’s lips as she took a deep breathe after she toughen herself for this day.  The day she confront her brother.

“Dowoon” She called for her brother who has been sitting across her, making Dowoon raise up his head, giving her full attention.

“Y-yeah” Deep inside, Dowoon feel shaky and nervous as well as his sister. 

“I’m sorry.  I’m really really sorry.  For everything. I know I shouldn—”

“Noona, you don’t have to be sor—”

“No, listen to me first, please.” Dahee pleads, looking straight into her brother’s eyes, almost begging him to listen to her as she moves closer to him “I’m really sorry for everything.  For pushing you away all this time.  I know I shouldn’t treat you like nothing.  I know I’m so selfish towards you.  I understand if you don’t want to forgive me.  I understand if you’re mad or didn’t want to meet me anymor—”

Dowoon quickly took her hands into his, clasping them together “What do you mean? I’m not mad or upset at you, not a slightest.  I’m really happy to see you again.  God knows how much I missed you and excited to meet you. So don’t worry, you did nothing, hmm?” Dowoon tries persuade Dahee, lowering his doe eyes to meet with Dahee’s, giving her a big smiles in process.

“But I made lots of mistak—”

“Noona, look at me.” Dowoon urge her to lift up her face to meet with his soft gazes that looks so sincere and pure, just like back then.  Dowoon that full with pureness and kindhearted.  Dowoon once again flashes her a assuring smiles and gently strokes her arms before speaks up “The one who needs to apologize is me.  I’m the one who left you 7 years ago.  Me, your brother.” Dowoon said, pausing for a moment to let her sister listen to his words again.

Dowoon moves closer to her, his arms sneaked around her shoulder as his big figure engulf her in his embrace.  “I’m sorry for leaving you in the past.  I promise I wouldn’t leave you alone again. I’ll be by your side forever.  That’s what siblings for.” Dowoon whispered into her ears.  Upon the words leaves his mouth, Dowoon felt Dahee tighten her grips on his waist as small cries and hiccups leaves her lips, making Dowoon lets out small chuckles, already expecting his sister being a crybaby in his arms.

“Aigooo, my sister is such a baby, huh?” He playfully joked as he pulled away from the hug and wiped off the tears with his thumb from Dahee’s cheeks—succeded in making her let out a soft laugh at him.

A small thank you come out from Dahee’s lips that almost sounds as a whispered but didn’t go unnotice by Dowoon.

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[orwocolor]

Love Thy Neighbour - Chapter Seven

Pairing: Gwilym Lee x Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Cursing

Summary: Gwilym shows up in your bookstore to apologise but there still might be more obstacles on your way to happiness.

Author’s Note: And another sprinkle of angst so that chapter six doesn’t feel so lonely. Only one more chapter and an epilogue remain, so keep an eye out for those! Comments and reblogs are always very appreciated :) Check my masterlist to read the previous chapters. Dedicated to my sweetie @justgwilym​.

Dragging your feet, you crash on your sofa, a floral pattern of one of the walls spinning around you. You squeeze your eyes shut, but as you lose the point of focus, you sense a rise of, so far, the most powerful wave of nausea. You fight the feeling and instead fix your gaze on one of the paintings decorating the living room.

Breathe in.

And breathe out.

You should not have drunk that much. But Jane and Charlotte were unstoppable and admittedly, you needed it. After a couple of drinks, you actually started having fun. Daniel turned out to be a very pleasant companion with a taste for slightly dry humour that, partially due to your inebriated state, made you burst in laughter multiple times during the party.

Oh god, you are going to hate yourself so much tomorrow.

Once it seems the whole world will not tilt again and toss you on your side, you brave a few steps into the kitchen and pour yourself a glass of water. Gulping it down, you can already feel its beneficial effects, which are further enhanced when you press the cold glass against your forehead. You serve yourself another drink and with each sip, you begin to trust your legs again.

You release a content sigh as a soft breeze and smell of rain touch your cheeks when you open the windows; it truly does a world of good. Grabbing yourself two slices of toast bread, you settle onto the sofa, open your laptop and click on a random video for you to watch while you wait to get better before you go to bed. If you lay down right now, you’re sure you would throw up.

With an occasional chuckle leaving your lips as you listen rather than watch a stand-up show, you almost miss a soft, hesitant knock on your door. Almost. Your fingers hover above the keyboard as you contemplate pausing the video. If you press the space key right now, there will be no doubt you’ve heard the knocking.

Slowly retracting your hand back to your side, you let the comedian continue in her sketch and you just wait. It probably takes only a minute, but for you, it’s an eternity before you can hear Gwil shut the door to his flat behind him.

You release a breath you have not realised you were holding and hide your face in your palms.

You are not in a state to face him right now. You need some time. And most importantly, you need to put some space between you, otherwise you’re going to care way too much, and you are not in the position of allowing yourself feelings of that sort.

~

“I’m sorry, sir, I’ll be back in a minute, just let me attend to this young lady,” you throw behind your shoulder as you rush to the cash desk and leave a customer in the historical section.

“Maybe I can be of service,” Mr Dean appears next to the customer’s shoulder, who jumps a bit, not expecting someone else, and you send a grateful glance to your friend. You knew you could count on him. Whenever he’s in a good mood, he loves to entertain people in the bookshop and no matter the topic or genre they’re looking for, he turns into an expert, gladly offering recommendations.

You hide a smile when you notice Mr Dean’s eyes sparkling as the man mentions the French revolution and he starts guiding him to the needed section.

“Here you go,” you hand the young woman her bag and say your goodbyes, a shrilling sound of chimes hanging at the entrance door announcing her departure.

While you bend down and disappear behind the till to throw away the receipt the woman didn’t want, the chimes sound again, and you emerge from behind the cash desk.

No.

He’s there, right in front of you, the surprise written in his face matching yours.

“Hello,” Gwil says softly and for a split of a second, you forget to breathe.

You’ve managed to avoid him the whole weekend by some miracle, although, admittedly, on one occasion, when you were forced out of your flat to do grocery shopping, you spotted him at the entrance door when you made a turn to your street. At that moment, you remembered you wanted to check something on your phone, and after fiddling with it long enough for Gwil to get home, you plucked up the courage to do the same.

You assured yourself you just needed some time and space and by the time you would meet him, you would have known what to tell him.

Well, your past self can go screw herself because here you are with your tongue tied.

“Hi, Y/N!” Ben is on Gwil’s tail and greets you cheerfully, his hand raised in a wave.

“Hi,” you manage to blurt out, quite happy with yourself for not butchering the single syllable. It’s all about little victories, right?

“So, uh, I’ll go check some books I guess,” Ben breaks the silence when neither you nor Gwil seems to do so, and scurries farther into the store.

“I am so, so sorry, Y/N,” Gwil eventually breathes out and raises his lowered eyes. “I wish I could have a good reason for not showing up the other day and for copping out on you like that, but I just don’t. I…”

He looks around and bites his lips, looking for a way of how to finish his sentence in books-filled shelves.

You wait patiently because you have the feeling that there is something he needs to say, and it would be ill-advised to interrupt his thoughts.

“Okay, I’m probably already not in your good books, so why not make even a bigger twat of myself, eh.”

“Ha, in the good books. Get it? You’re in a bookshop,” you chuckle, your voice not as strong as you would like it to be.

“Yeah,” he replies, and the corners of his lips rise up slightly. Soon, his voice turns serious again. “Well, I went to that stupid audition and I just fucked it up. Yeah, there’s no better word for that. I fucked it up, big time. I tried to persuade them to give me another chance, I said I would do anything, and the production assistant surprised me. She promised me another audition if I went for a drink with her afterwards, and I… didn’t refuse.” He takes a deep, shaky breath, presumably the first one since he started explaining what had happened. “I wasn’t thinking, and when I realised I was supposed to be with you, it was too late.”

“You could have called me,” you say slowly, daring to meet his gaze.

“My phone was dead. I was fiddling with it so much while I was waiting for the audition. Was driving Ben absolutely crazy.”

“Can confirm!” Ben’s head peeps out from behind a shelf and quickly hides again when he spots both your and Gwil’s not so amused expressions.

“Still,” you start and shake away the trembling feeling that is creeping to your voice, “You could have come by later and explain all of that to me that night.”

By some miracle, it’s as if he senses the direction of your thoughts, and rushes to set the record straight, offering the absolution you haven’t, until now, realised you desperately craved.

“The moment it dawned on me what a jerk I was, I said my goodbyes and left. But it was too late, and I felt like such a prick, so I actually dropped in another pub and drank some more. Was so shit-faced I stayed at my brother’s ‘cause he lives in that area.”

A great weight is lifted from your shoulders and you can finally take a deep and long breath. You feel a smile tugging at the corners of your lips but Gwilym does not see it; he is avoiding your eyes, as mortification keeps surrounding his whole person.

“I am so, so sorry,” he repeats once again and the moment the words leave his lips, you forgive him.

Actually, you already have.

You are just about to tell him so when he finally finds the courage to look into your eyes as he reaches out and gently grasps your hands that have been resting on the counter.

“Please, can you forgive me?”

His thumbs are lightly stroking your skin and you cannot tear away your gaze from his beautiful blue eyes.

“Sir, I must ask you to leave right now!”

Wait, what?

It takes you a moment to become aware of where you are and what is happening. The bookshop, right. And as for what is going on…

“Sir, I won’t repeat myself, leave this building immediately!” Peter’s voice reaches such volume that every customer stops in their tracks, their curiosity taking the better of themselves.  

“I was only showing this young lad the historic section. I don’t reckon it’s a crime,” Mr Dean responds in his defence, which only infuriates Peter some more.

“You’re always just helping other customers, or browsing, or, God forbid, reading our books without paying a single penny for them. I want you gone. This is not a library!”

“Peter,” you say weakly, not capable of wrapping your head around it. He isn’t supposed to be here, otherwise you would have warned Mr Dean beforehand.

“Is that the Mr Dean you told me about?” Gwil whispers and it is only then when you notice your hands are still placed in his and his face is much closer to yours than you remember.

“Yes, I’m–” you start but Gwilym won’t let you finish the sentence.

“Trust me, darling. I’ll stop by at your place at around seven, okay?” he hastily says and places a soft kiss to your cheek before leaving you at the till dumbfounded.

“Grandpa!” he greets joyfully and rushes to Mr Dean to give him a proper hug. “Have you found the book you told me about?”

Mr Dean shoots a glance your way before he replies. “Ah, I… Yes. Yes, yes, I did, give me a second.” You’re taken aback by his quick reaction because you have not moved from your spot, your jaw down, and you are pretty sure your arms are still stretched in front of you although Gwilym’s warm palms are no longer holding them. You fix your posture in an instant and clear your throat, at least trying to give the impression of having everything under control.

Although you are not particularly proud of yourself, you’re still doing better than Peter. He is just standing there, opening his mouth like fish as no words are leaving his lips.

Gwilym pretends he has only just noticed him and raises his eyebrows in make-believe innocence. “Is there any problem here?”

It takes a couple of moments before Peter gathers his bearings.

“I’m sorry, but this is your grandfather?” he finally finds his voice and points an accusatory finger at your dear friend.

“Yeah! He’s been wearing my ear off about this wonderful book he discovered here, so I’m here to get it for him. For his birthday, you know? Which is coming soon, isn’t that right, grandpa?”

“In a couple of days, actually,” Mr Dean confirms and nods his head seriously as if contemplating the fleetingness of time and existence.

“Urgh, I’m the worst grandson ever, really, looking for gifts this late, I should be ashamed of myself.” You are fascinated by Gwil’s acting; he doesn’t miss a beat and comes up with lies so quickly, all you can do is stare in astonishment. It’s not like anyone needs you right now because all customers are watching the scene unfold.

“Ah, got it!” The victorious announcement of Mr Dean makes Gwil turn on his heel and leave Peter behind.

“Wow, that’s really pretty! You weren’t lying about the photographs.” Gwil expertly inspects the pictures of various relics and nods, approvement and appreciation readable from his pursed lips. “Excellent! We’ll take it.” He closes the book in one swift motion and heads to your cash desk.

By this time, you have composed yourself enough to remember all the common niceties, and you are quite proud of your performance as you easily scan the book that you’ve seen cradled in Mr Dean’s palms many afternoons and punch the price into the card reader so that Gwil can pay.

“Would you like it gift-wrapped?” you do not forget to ask and when your gaze meets Gwil, your heart starts beating so fast you almost can’t hear the answer.

“Oh yes, please, that is if we’re not bothering you.” Gwil’s smile lights up his whole face.

“No bother at all,” the corners of your lips rise in a matching smile and you procced to neatly wrap the book in a piece of brown paper, taking extra care to tie a dark blue ribbon around the package.

“Thank you so much, have a lovely day!” Gwilym places the book under his arm and leaves the shop, Mr Dean on his tail offers a wave and a wink that, hopefully, Peter cannot see.

Through the display window, you almost miss Gwil turning around and mouthing ‘see you tonight’ before he and Mr Dean disappear behind the corner. You almost burst into laughter when Ben suddenly emerges from behind the bookshelves and dashes after them.

You have got the feeling that Peter is mumbling something, but all you can think about is your lovely neighbour and the kiss he ever so gently placed on your cheek.

You resist the temptation to touch your face, wondering whether the imprint of Gwil’s lips can be found there, or whether the gesture is forever inscribed into your mind only.

But then, you finally register Peter’s words...

“I can’t believe it! And of all days he’s got to pick today and embarrass me in front of the buyers. God damn it!”

… and your smile freezes.

~

Buyers.

The sequence of syllables still sounds foreign and dangerous to your ears.

Buyers.

No matter how many times it rolls off your tongue, the word remains the same.

So that’s it. Peter’s made up his mind and he is going to sell the bookshop. And that leaves so many questions unanswered. The new owners, are they going to keep the staff, or do they plan to hire a new bunch of people? Is there even some certainty that they will not rebrand and establish a branch of a fast-food chain? It’s not like the city is flooded with them, right.

You feel the dizziness creeping up your neck as those thoughts swirl in your head, not permitting you a moment of peace. You almost crash into a passer-by, but thankfully you manage to keep yourself upright and the take-out bag with your late lunch intact in your hold.

Once you finally arrive home, you heat up the food you have brought with you and open your favourite book in a desperate attempt to diverge the direction of your thoughts.

You are torn between biting your nails from the uncertainty of your future career and halting in the story and daydreaming about Gwilym’s visit tonight. And with that mindset, you go about your day while you clean up, water plants, and dust your flat; you have been putting it off for ages.

Emerged in thoughts, you almost mishear the buzzing sound of the bell. You are wearing baggy trousers and an old t-shirt with stains God-knows from what. You have reckoned you’ve still got time to change before Gwil’s visit. Oh well, he has seen you at your worse.

However, your brows furrow as you step into the hall and catch a glimpse of the digital clock.

5.40 p.m.

Swinging the door open, you are met with no one. Another sound of the bell and the line on your forehead deepens.

“Hello,” you mutter when you press the intercom, and the static comes through.

“Y/N! Hi! Ready to go out and grab coffee with me?”

It takes a moment before the dots connect.

“Oh, Daniel, hi! I… erm… can you give me ten minutes?”

“Sure thing!”

The dash across your flat, from the door to the dresser, then to the bathroom and back to the hall could be considered a match to any Olympian’s winning sprint race, but it is too early after your accident and your ankle makes itself known. You grit your teeth and grab a purse, leaving your flat and hoping no appliances have stayed turned on.

How could you have forgotten?! Stupid, stupid, stupid!

“Hi!” you greet breathlessly when you fly from the entrance door, and Daniel gives you a lopsided smile.

“You forgot, didn’t you?” No matter how hard you try not to give anything away, the blush on your cheeks betrays you. “Oh my God, you did!” Barking out a laugh, he lets you take a couple of deep breaths before you start walking down the street. “Maybe it should be you who’s gonna buy the coffee today.”

“Gladly,” you smile and spot a cosy café. For a split second, you consider taking him to Hazel’s, but then you imagine the soft hues of brown and gold against black and white background of your most beloved café. Your mind goes straight to the day you bumped into Gwil and Ben in there and you do not wish to stain that memory. Besides, this café is right behind the corner of your block of flats, which means you shouldn’t get stuck at some far-off place. “Actually, I owe you ‘cos I’ve got some plans at seven and I need to get home by then.”

“Oh, okay,” he replies hesitantly, and you bite your lips, feeling like an arse. Well, you can make it up for him by paying for the coffee, right?

~

You are trying. You are really, truly trying. Daniel is nice. Funny, smart, and knows all the iconic movie lines off pat, however, the moment you look into his eyes, you feel nothing, there is no bated breath, no heart beating fast. Nothing. And honestly, it seems you are not making a particularly good impression either. He takes notice of your constant checking the time on your phone, and when you catch yourself doing it for an umpteenth time, you roll your eyes at yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you mutter after a moment of silence, which you wish were a companionable one, but you are too fidgety.

“It’s fine, I get it,” Dan offers a sheepish smile, which you return. “Let’s get you back home, okay?”

The wind is chilling and light drizzle lands on your hair. As you walk down the street, you notice that Daniel is trying to gently hold your hand. It starts with your fingers brushing and you would dismiss it as an accidental touch but when his fingertips graze the back of your palm, you sense the intention in the gesture. You bring your hand up, brushing off a damp strand of hair and scratching the back of your neck so as not to give him another opportunity for touch.

Hoping this debacle is behind you now, you say your goodbyes and grab the door handle to your building. Oh, how foolish!

“I know you’re lost in thought today but it was a nice date and honestly, I’m not ready for it to end.” He gives you a smile and his eyes sparkle when you stop in your tracks and turn your head to face him.

His gaze drops down to your lips and you are (literally) taken aback by the movement to such extent that your body shoots away. In the process, you press your back to the doorbell panel and jump a bit, not expecting that kind of contact.

“Careful.” Daniel’s fingers find your waist to keep you upright. “I realise I might not be the man of your dreams, but I hope we can go for dinner next time.”

“I…” you start, unable to find the words that would not hurt him.

“No, don’t say anything,” he whispers, and it is only then when you realise his face has inched closer to yours. And then he presses his lips to yours, and you freeze at the spot.

Your eyelids do not tremble with emotion, neither do you melt into his touch. You just stand there, barely moving your lips and thinking that this guy just cannot take a hint. You might have been waving the ‘I am not interested’ flag right in front of his face and he still would be none the wiser.

When he finally lets go, your gaze is still fixed forward and you suck in your lips in a subconscious effort to prevent him from another attempt of a kiss. However, you catch a flicker of light in the corner of your eyes and without giving it a second thought you twist your neck, and your gaze falls into the entrance hall. The windowpane which reflected two figures kissing a moment ago turns transparent and reveals a figure standing inside.

He’s there, at the top of the staircase, taking you by surprise for a second time this day.

But this time, his eyes are hurt behind his glasses, a deep line is forming on his forehead, and it seems as if he’s rooted to the cold stone floor. Your heart is breaking at the sight of him and you know you must do anything within your power to atone for this moment because you never ever want to see such pain written in his face.

“Gwil,” you breathe out softly and bend down to escape Daniel’s embrace. Pushing the main door, you rush to your neighbour, your friend, your… “Gwil, this means nothing, I’m not –”

“My doorbell rang, and I was foolish enough to think you couldn’t wait until seven. I…” He is avoiding your gaze, his eyes roving round the hall. He brings his hands to his sides, but quickly finds out there are no pockets in his soft camel pleated trousers and so he clasps them together. When he bites his trembling lips, it is almost unbearable to keep your eyes on him, but you cannot look away either.

Then, his features harden, and it is probably worse than before as your stomach tightens.

“Goodbye.”

You almost miss the sound, his voice barely above a whisper. Tears threaten to fall down your cheeks, but Gwilym is already gone, his moccasins tapping against the cold tiles of the stairs. You fight the urge to wrap your arms around yourself and have a breakdown right here and now. All you do is simply turn around, every movement calculated so as not to make an unnecessary one. Daniel is still standing at the entrance, his eyebrows raised in the piqued curiosity of what has just occurred.

“I can’t go for another date with you. I’m sorry.”

But you don’t feel sorry at all, well, not sorry for him at least. Your thoughts have turned into a tangled ball of turmoil and indescribable emotions, which are hard to make sense of.

When you reach your floor, you stop in your tracks to your flat. You have thought you lost all the courage, but you muster some from deep inside and cross the hall to knock on his door with determination.

God knows how long you are standing there, you knock again, and again.

Nothing.

Not even a sign of hope.

Your heart skips a beat when you finally hear the creak of a door being open, but a lump forms in your throat instead when it dawns on you that it is not Gwil’s door but Mrs Thompson’s.

“Hello Mrs Thompson,” you greet meekly the slightly open door of the 3A flat and drag your feet to your home.

You do not bother taking off your shoes or clothes. Crushing straight into your bed, you finally give yourself the permission to let your emotions flow and cry yourself to sleep.

~

Taglist: @lv7867​, @spacedustmazzello​, @queenwouldyourathers​, @im-an-adult-ish​, @fairestkillerqueenofall​, @supernaturalee​, @queenlover05​, @geek-and-proud​, @chlobo6​, @mrsmazzello​, @timeandpixiedust​, @kerouacsroad​, @gwilsmainhoe​​

[talietikasero]

Stability

Random prompt from 8/11 [finished 8/16]: rewrite the Strive ending / create an alternate epilogue [to line up with my story project]. I may or may not rewrite the whole thing for fun lmao.

[Main story preview here (contains 6 scenes)] // [Chapter 1 now on AO3]

"I guess... that's what they meant..." She let out between huffs. Both the voice in her head and the former Sanctus Maximus Populi said the same thing regarding her potential ability.

“When the time comes, with your seed, you hold the power to save or destroy the world.”

“You can prevent the end of it all.”

Energy drained, she fought off the sluggish pace her body was moving. Looking over to her partner, she noticed he was barely hanging on to his life, staying incredibly still, and trying to regulate his breathing while facing down. While her body contained the [Scales of Juno], he had the [Flame of Corruption] ripped out from his, reverting him to a human. "On second thought, don't move." Once she closed the distance between them, she knelt and put her arms around him. Face against the scuffed leather sleeve, and she struggled to hold her emotions in. "H-hey..." Voice cracking, she lowly muttered between sniffles, "please, don't go..."

"..."

"You... you stayed true to... your word about... a-about..."

"..."

"Fighting to... s-save the world..."

"If the world was going to disappear tomorrow... What would you do today?"

"What kind of a question is that? Stop whatever's ending the world or die trying."

Her embrace tightened as tears ran down her face. "Human, Gear, or neither. The world still needs you."

With drooped ears and saddened eyes, the wolf spirit whined. Its host and companion soothed it by scratching behind its ears and reassuring the worst had come to pass. "(It's okay, Rei. We're still alive.)." She whispered to the spirit in her native tongue. Another whine followed by a lick to the side of her face, Giovanna patted Rei's forehead. "What? Are you worried about me? I'm okay, I swear." She winced as another sharp pain ran through her body. "Ouch..." Her superior, the President, placed a hand on her shoulder. Half-expecting him to say she's no longer needed, she began, "I'm sorry-..."

"None of that." Vernon's voice was firm; however, it sounded... fatherly. He may have his doubts about the agent, but he knew she was more than capable of the job. Facing off against an unstoppable force, she did prove she's worth giving a higher position. "I can tell what you were thinking, but you're not being let go. You take as much time as you need off, Gio. Goldlewis, Erica, and I will await your return."

Saddened at the loss of someone he could consider a friend, the time traveler meekly looked down at the minty green and white guitar he held in his hands. This entire time he was unaware of her true identity. If he had to lose someone like her, it didn't have to be this way. Regardless of if she recalled who he was and why he was important to her in the first place, false memory or not. He threw away his chance to return home a while ago, and now he felt that it would've been for nothing had he gone through with it. "It shouldn't have ended like this... Megumi." Axl softly said under his breath.

After regaining control over his body and revealing the wicked goddess's weak point, the vampiric samurai pierced the ground a few centimeters with his sword. He kneeled to show his appreciation for defeating the evil force that used him as a puppet. Now, he could see why his master was fascinated by the will of a single person. This same person was stripped of his powers and still faced death head-on. "May you rest for now. The next time we meet, it won't be as enemies, but acquaintances." Drawing his blade from the ground, Nagoriyuki sheathed it and took his leave.

The King of Illyria – his lifelong rival and their son-in-law – made his way over to them, stopping a few feet short to maintain distance. "It's finally over. They're gone. We can... we can go home now." Part of him wanted to hold a hand out to help him stand, yet he held back and deemed that action unnecessary. Ky's spirits rose once he noticed the man in front of him was taking steady deep breaths -- body slowly moving to show signs of life.

Right hand maintaining its grip on the Outrage's handle, his free hand lightly grasped one of hers. Face still downward, a weak smile formed. "...You think so?"

She couldn't believe it. He's hanging by a thread and using what energy he should be saving to answer her with a question of his own.

"I know so."

The past three weeks were a blur. From the day she woke up and adjusted to this new world to the present, where she aided in bringing down a god. She never would've guessed that any of these events could've transpired. In the days leading up to September 2016, she was a terminally ill scientist who refused any life-saving alternative to live past what little time she had left, insisting she spent it with her significant other. Fast forward to December 2187, and she was brought back to life and became the partner of humanity's savior -- the very same person, albeit for the last time.

_____

The next day, another patient was checked into the hospital. This time there wasn’t a commotion caused by bringing his unconscious form bursting through the front doors. She wasn’t strong enough to carry him in her arms like he held her – that’s what the gurney from the airship’s infirmary wing was for.

“I have a request. May I stay here until he recovers? I… I don’t want to leave him.”

Three days later, word had reached his family that he's – miraculously and defying all odds – alive. His refusal to follow the light after what had happened was attributed to his stubborn nature. The Grim Reaper knocked at his door, and he slammed it shut in their face. Occupying the same bed, in the same patient room as her around a month ago, the now de-powered hero lay hooked up to the vitals system.

"Is he going to be alright?"

"Hard to say, but he'll pull through. He did wake up this morning, so there's something, yeah?"

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but has anyone seen my mother? About my height, short red hair with white underneath, and wearing a blue leather jacket? She hasn't been seen since everyone returned."

"She's in the room and hasn't left at all. I had someone stop by the house and bring her spare clothes since she spent the last four days here."

"Oh, thank god." The queen was relieved to know her mother's whereabouts. She respected her parents' privacy by not asking if she was able to go in.

---

Ring-ring. Ring-ring. Ring-ring-ring.

Sighing in aggravation, she answered her phone. There was only one person she kept in contact with these past few days. "What do you want now? He's still not up, so stop cal-..."

"I was going to ask something else. I'm going to regret this, but are you still angry?"

"You're a smart man to keep your distance from me, but a dumbass to ask that. Of course, I am! You ruined our lives with your 'self-righteousness' and nearly brought another apocalypse."

"...Aria, I understand your rage. If only I could rewind time and prevent your illness. I shouldn't have forcibly converted him and disappeared with your sleep capsule. It wasn't my intention to have our research weaponized, but I was figuratively and literally held at gunpoint to hand it over to the US Government. I should've known better and anticipated that Chaos -- erm, the Original's creation would sabotage your activation. Your screams still haunt me... and... I'm... I'm sorry."

"Asuka."

"I can't fix this by excessively apologizing and listing off my crimes, but I hope everything goes well for you and Frederick."

"Whatever. Enjoy the moon, or don't." She ended the call before her former friend could reply. "Asshole." Aria slumped back in the chair and opened her book to the page she left off. "We should've launched you into the sun."

"Oh my. And I thought 'Sol' was a hothead. You're pretty harsh, you know that? It's more frightening than I-No on a good day." Jack-O's voice rang through. Capable of feeling and expressing emotions herself, the Valentine was taken aback at what she heard during their calls. "If possible, can we listen to his show sometime? Please?"

"...Okay."

"Thank you. ~"

---

Forty minutes after the heated conversation, a groggy voice broke the silence.

"Is the... afterlife a sterile... hospital room?" Frederick's eyes were half-open, staring directly at the ceiling.

Aria closed what she was reading and placed it on the counter. Ignoring the monitors that once kept track of her, she looked over his body to see minimal damage sustained. "Looks like you've still got some of that healing factor. Or you're just too hardheaded to die."

He slightly turned his head to face her. "Heh. Probably both."

Running a hand through his now short hair, her lips curved into an unsure smile. "Welcome back to the land of the living?"

"This doesn't look like heaven. If you're my welcome guide, then I'll stay." His body was still sore, but he extended his arm out for her to hold his hand. The warmth from the fire magic still dwelling within them made their contact feel safer.

"I should've worn that jumpsuit and halo." Her inner voice's reaction was an exaggerated throat clear. "But if I did," she held a finger to her temple, "I don't think she would've appreciated that."

"I would've been mildly annoyed at best. Mildly annoyed yet honored that you'd wear it because of what you did."

"You're really pissed off at Asuka, aren't you?"

"How much did you hear?"

"All of it. Didn't know you were capable of that."

"I felt like you after the second day." He took that as a friendly poke at his history. "Since you've saved the world for the last time, are you still up for that 'alternate life' you mentioned the other night? We don't have to stay at Ky and Dizzy's. They can arrange something for us."

His ears perked up at the suggestion. Did she remind him about his statement regarding them settling down? Having survived an act of God, living a quiet life together a few minutes out from the capital didn't sound like a terrible idea. "What did you have in mind?"

"A fair-sized home, nothing too big or small, probably just down the way from their place. I don't want to throw everything away and live in seclusion. We're way out of our own time, but we finally have a family, people who care about us, and we care about them in return. Unless you have a better idea?"

"I'm fine with anything. Can't imagine I'd be able to go out much or at all because I'm officially a dead man."

"Not too long ago, I was a dead woman walking. Besides, the world thinks that Sol Badguy is dead, not Frederick Bulsara."

"Point there. You know, now that I think about it, this situation is just like a month ago."

"With you in my place, but I didn't have to be dragged in? This is the same room where I spent my time recovering. It was also -..."

"Where you got your new start."

"Y-yeah. That's exactly it. This is where I woke up to my new life! Not as Justice, or Jack-O, but as myself. That same day, I met our daughter and her husband, and then I saw you again. Just this time... I've been here since you were checked in. Everyone tried to get me to leave, but I refused."

He noticed the duffel bag placed near the door. There was a pant leg hanging over one side of the unzipped bag, and next to it were two pairs of footwear. "Way to tug at the old heartstrings. Stubborn as always, aren't you?" If he were honest with himself, he wanted to do the same when she was still unconscious. He had the feeling that the IRMC staff wouldn't have thought about asking him to leave the premises, even though he almost kicked the doors clean off the first time.

"One of my best qualities." She winked at him, giggling at her remark.

"Hey, Aria."

"Hm?"

He slowly sat up despite the mild pain, leaning over to bring her in for a hug. "Thank you."

Aria returned the motion, both holding onto each other, not wanting to let go. She had felt incomplete up until this moment. Preventing the end was a combined effort, and she couldn’t be any happier to have been a part of that team.

A sense of déjà vu, the song playing on the radio had neared its end.

You are all I long for All I worship and adore In other words, please be true In other words...

"I love you."

[lassieposting]

Vile and Mevolent, for the romantic headcanons?

Who goes to bed late and who wakes up first?

Both Vile, because he very rarely sleeps through the night. He'll go to bed whenever Mevolent does, but he has nightmares and a hard time switching off the hypervigilance, so someone coughing three rooms away or walking by at the far end of the hall or laughing in the gardens will startle him awake and he'll struggle to resettle. A lot of the time he gets up multiple times during the night, then comes back to bed once he's confident there's no threat. The sunrise, the dawn chorus, the fire in the grate burning down to embers (less crackly noise, more cold), and increased footfall in the hallways will also wake him up, so he doesn't normally sleep past when the servants start their work.

Mev, on the other hand, sleeps like the dead, and only gets up at a reasonable hour because he's got shit to do - if he's got the time to lounge in bed till noon, he'll do it. He sleeps through most of Vile's nighttime activity, but when it does wake him, he can usually calm Vile down enough to coax him back to sleep.

Who sings during daily activities (shower, cooking, etc)?

Mevolent. Some of the Faceless hymns are catchy. He's got an okay voice, so Vile doesn't mind. It amuses him how upbeat some of the tunes are for songs that are mostly about the faceless ones laying waste to the planet, though.

Who takes care of the other on sick days?

Mevolent. Not that he has to do it often - they're both incredibly tough, and sorcerers are immune to most mortal illnesses, so the only thing likely to bench either of them for more than a few hours is a Serious Injury. And? Mevolent is a sensible, rational man. When he has a Serious Injury, he goes to Nye, because Nye is by far the most competent surgeon on Mevolent's staff, and Nye fixes him up.

Vile is not a sensible, rational man. Vile is a torture survivor. He won't let Nye get within thirty feet of him, because Nye was the one advising Serpine on how much more he could take before it killed him. He's wildly unpredictable when he's hurt, because he goes into self-preservation mode, and everyone around him becomes a threat. And to make everyone's lives even harder, he has a tendency to mask an injury and try to fix it himself, because he's surrounded by the same people who tortured him and he cannot afford to show weakness. So once Mev wins his trust, he's pretty much the only person Vile will let take care of him when he's hurt.

Who gives unprompted massages?

Vile. Mevolent spends a lot of time sat at a desk, and gets the stiff neck/shoulders/back accordingly. Vile will come up behind him to look over his shoulder at what he's doing, and absent-mindedly do Mev's shoulders while he's at it.

Mev will give massages too, usually to make Vile go all drowsy and relaxed after a few rough nights of little sleep, but he asks first.

What activity do they do together in sync?

Compensate for each other's weaknesses in battle. For Mevolent, this means keeping an eye on Vile's blind side: usually, his magic does this for him and gets him around just fine, but a battlefield is so chaotic that it's difficult for him to tell his fighters' life energy and the enemy's apart. For Vile, this means being fast enough to hit anything Mevolent can't. For all that he's "slender", Mev is a big, strong guy; he's the tank, and his equipment shows it: heavy armour, massive greatsword. But the tradeoff for that sword's powerful swing is slower speed. Vile is smaller, faster and his armour moves with him, so he'll take out anything that gets too close to Mev before he has time to swing. They're a highkey unstoppable team in battle.

Who gives nose/forehead/hand kisses?

Mevolent. Vile is more neck/shoulderblade/wrist kisses.

Who gets jealous?

Both of them, but Vile is the one you really don't want to cross; he's lost everything he cared about before and it completely broke him, so he absolutely will not tolerate competition. There's a rumour that the real reason Serpine tried to pull off a sloppy assassination - when he's always been so meticulous about his schemes - and then fled the city is because he found out that when Mevolent asked what gift would prove his love, Vile asked for Serpine's head. It's also a popular theory that Serafina's death, officially a "tragic accident", was in fact the deliberate removal of a rival (although, the court is divided on whether Nef or Vile arranged it).

Mev is a lot more chilled about his jealousy. It comes with having the power to grind your rival's entire bloodline to dust whenever you feel like it.

Soft kisses or passionate kisses?

Both.

Who brings the other food at work?

Vile will load up a plate of leftovers if Mevolent is balls deep in A Project and misses a meal, and take it up to his office so he'll still eat something. He actually has a better handle on When Mevolent Last Ate than Mev does.

Who made the first move?

Lowkey both of them. It was a blazing row during a post-battle debrief-slash-dressing-down that unexpectedly became an adrenaline-fuelled angry fuck. Neither is really sure who pounced first.

Who won’t dress in costume unless it’s a couple costume?

Mevolent won't dress up unless it's like, a super fancy, elegant masquerade ball costume. Vile is an introverted antisocial buzzkill and won't dress up at all.

How was their first date like?

They went riding. Vile was at the point of recovery where he was climbing the walls with cabin fever, and short walks in the palace gardens weren't cutting it anymore, so Mevolent took him outside the city to let off some steam.

Who writes love letters/notes to the other?

Both of them! The early years of their relationship were during the war, when they'd often find themselves leading the offensive on completely different continents. This being the 1800s, they'd communicate primarily by letter; incorporeal visitations were a thing, but still in the very experimental stage, and Teleporters were precious.

Originally, Vile would send field reports, and Mevolent would respond with written orders. Professional. Brief. Succinct. Then Vile has his injury. They get closer while he's recuperating, and when he goes back to the front, his orders arrive with a postscript, more or less saying, "How are you holding up?" He adds a postscript of his own to his next report - essentially, "I'm fine" - and then, after a bit of consideration, decides that sounds too brusque and adds a little funny story about something that happened with one of his soldiers recently.

The postscripts get longer. They share little anecdotes, celebrate each other's victories, comfort each other after defeats. Vile sends Mev three scrawly pages of absolute filth, which is delightedly received halfway across the world. Mevolent spells Vile's name differently on every single letter, and somehow never manages to spell it the same way twice (Veighle? Vyle? Veele? Véle? Vile is ready to end him and his medieval approach to spelling.) They even send each other little trophies or souvenirs, squeezed in at the very end of a crowded parchment.

"V - Saw this and thought of you. M"

"M - You'll probably laugh at this as much as I did. V"

Who firmly believed the other was their soulmate from early on?

They're too bitter and jaded and scarred to believe in soulmates. Vile was the one who immediately thought Mevolent Got Him, though - "finally, here is someone who shares my appetite for destruction."

How much do they touch each other (PDA)?

Rarely, in public. Once Mevolent is fully established as ruler of the world and he can be open about his relationship without risking his crusade, they might dance together occasionally, or touch one another's arm to get their attention, or murmur in one another's ear. But they were a secret for over a century, and they very rarely interact publicly in a way that would be out of character for a lord and his general. Vile still usually enters rooms behind/"guarding" Mevolent rather than on his arm (with a few exceptions, usually when Mev wants to make a point). The main "PDA" for them is that they use each other's names, rather than "my lord"/"general", and Vile will look Mevolent in the eye, which isn't really permitted for anyone else.

Do they have cute nicknames for each other?

Vile is "V" a lot of the time.

How do they feel about Valentine’s Day? Do they go on a date?

Valentine was a Christian saint, and Mevolent only endorses the Faceless religion, so while V-day might still exist in Leibniz, it would only be in the homes of those brave enough to flaunt the laws around false gods and banned faiths, and would probably not be openly celebrated.

Public marriage proposal or something private?

Private. The first anyone else hears about it is when someone notices that Mevolent's changed his family crest. It's normal for sorcerers to either impale their crest (split the shield down the middle, with half your crest on one side and your partner's on the other) with their new spouse's, or include a nod to their spouse's crest in their own, by adopting one of their tinctures or bearers or something. The gossip circuit goes wild trying to figure out what prompted the change - nobody recognises the impaled crest, and Mevolent's shown no interest in any young ladies of good family since Lady Serafina's tragic passing. Rumours abound. Changing your crest is something that happens after you get married, not before - so at some point, their lord and master got secretly married and didn't tell anyone.

Eventually, someone points out that Mevolent took Lord Vile off to one of his summer palaces for a few weeks several months ago, ostensibly to renovate. That summer palace is small as palaces go, and quiet, and that trip could...feasibly have been a honeymoon, a newly married couple wanting some privacy. But if that's true...they've been married almost a year, and nobody knew a damn thing.

After changing the crest, Mev announces a month of feasting and festivities to celebrate. He manages his public image carefully, and he knows that the commonfolk won't give a damn that he's gone and married his heathen lover, if it gives them an excuse to get drunk and stuff themselves on his dime.

Vile, being an intensely private person, took forever to okay the crest change, but since most of the court is terrified of him, he only really gets questioned by a few people.

How long into the relationship before they had sex?

Their relationship literally began with a post-battle adrenaline-fuelled angry fuck. They hooked up long before ever developing Feelings.

Who drops innuendos at random?

Neither of them are hugely inclined towards innuendoes, but it happens for both of them occasionally.

Who makes romantic surprises without a reason to?

They both will, but the definition of romantic varies wildly. "I've arranged a showing of an opera you like" and "I've kept this prisoner until you got back so we can interrogate him together" are both under the umbrella of "romantic surprise" for these two.

How likely are they to have sex in a non-bedroom location?

Very. Mevolent's throne is a popular pick. The carriage, the bathtub and every flat surface in Mev's rooms are also A-OK.

Who said “I love you” first and when?

Vile really struggles with the big three. Everyone he's ever said that to, he's lost, usually in horrible ways. He's lowkey convinced himself that if he doesn't say it, he won't ever lose Mevolent.

So it's Mev that says it first, and it's kind of in the middle of a religious crisis. He's fairly convinced the gods would overlook him fucking a heathen, given all the good he's done in their name, but then one night they're in bed together, Vile is dozing off on his chest, and he's got this warm fuzzy feeling like this is How Things Should Be, and he's not really been in love before but he's pretty sure that's a much more serious sin. Vile mumbles at him to ask what he's all fidgety about, and "I think I might be falling in love with you and that terrifies me" comes out during the resultant conversation.

Who will sing cheesy romantic songs when drunk?

Mevolent. The cheesy romantic songs are from like, the middle ages. It's a bit like your older boyfriend trying to seduce you with dad-rock - cringey, but in a funny, I-love-you-but-god-you-suck kinda way.

[wordsablaze]

Unspoken

If there's one thing Jaskier truly has in life, it's his ability to use words. And although he knows there are a lot of things that can comfortably go unspoken, he himself is not one of them; without his words, Jaskier would be all but unborn.

A/N: this is my 100th fanfic, which is just crazy, and i think jaskier deserves to be the focus of this milestone as he's inspired so much of my writing lately, so here's a whole lotta lowercase angst <3

-

jaskier is unborn

and he is unspoken

because his parents had never considered having a child, never considered even being capable of having a child

but none of them have a choice in the matter because he is destined to be brought into the world and it is finally his time.

.

jaskier is born

and he is quiet murmurs

because that’s all his mother and father can afford in fear of being discovered or captured or imprisoned

and because they know that they will never be able to give their child a life worthy of how precious he is to them.

.

jaskier is one

and he is intermittent wails

because babies need endless love but his parents are far too busy trying not to be caught to give enough of it to him,

because all he wants is to be heard and held and helped but more often than not, he is simply hushed in fear of being hunted.

.

jaskier is two

and he is monosyllabic mumbles

because he knows that the women around him aren’t his parents but he doesn’t know who exactly they are

and he wants to ask them but they don’t understand and they keep distracting him with food and music and he so easily forgets his questions.

.

jaskier is three

and he is hushed mutterings

because he is trying so hard to talk just like everyone around him

but all they do is tell him to be quiet, to make sure nobody is disturbed by him, to act as if he is a grown up and not an annoying child.

.

jaskier is four

and he is excited shouts

because he is young and wild and he is learning so much about the world and its beauty

even if people are constantly telling him not to make a mess or cause a fuss or generally remind anyone of the wilderness steadily growing inside him.

.

jaskier is five

and he is bold questions

because he runs off and finds a man who holds wood but makes sound and he is so, so excited to learn how to do the same

but then someone else finds him and all he is left asking is why his mother and father won’t let him go outside.

.

jaskier is six

and he is hidden cries

because no, he can’t have an extra bread roll for after dinner and no, he can’t take another slice of cake for the new friend he’s not supposed to have,

and he is so sad about it but he knows that being heard is only going to make things worse.

.

jaskier is seven

and he is confused moans

because his head aches and his stomach burns and his eyes hurt and he doesn’t know what’s happening

but nobody tells him that he was ill until after he’s recovered because they’d all thought he was dying and hadn’t seen the point in wasting their time on him.

.

jaskier is eight

and he is angry yells

because he wants to go and see the girl with the instruments but his teachers keep telling him he needs to learn about his history instead

and he really doesn’t see the point in learning about dead people when the ones he can see from the window make him feel so alive.

.

jaskier is nine

and he is wistful demands

because he really does want to play with his siblings like everyone keeps telling him to

but none of them want to play with him in return and he doesn’t know what he’s meant to do about that.

.

jaskier is ten

and he is unapologetic arguments

because all he wants to do is play his lute but his mother keeps telling him he shouldn’t

and his father looks at him as if he’s become a monster when he says he doesn’t want to be like everyone else in their boring house.

.

jaskier is eleven

and he is desperate pleas

because he has heard about the harsh ways of temple schools and he doesn’t want to go

even though a small part of him thinks it might be better than being forced to act like some kind of decoration in order to always please their guests.

.

jaskier is twelve

and he is hesitant singing

because he loves figuring out how to match his music to the words in his head that beg to be written out on paper

but it seems that other boys just want to learn about the deadliest weapons and he’s not very good at those if his numerous trips to healers have anything to say about it.

.

jaskier is thirteen

and he is stifled sobs

because sometimes learning is painful and not learning fast enough is even more painful

and being quiet when getting punished is apparently just another thing that he has to learn if he wants to do well in life.

.

jaskier is fourteen

and he is snide remarks

because his words are the only defence he has and he’s not about to back down from any kind of fight

even if that means the tears his opponents may shed are met with blood on his end, even if that means he also has to get used to running and hiding.

.

jaskier is fifteen

and he is careless laughter

because his musical skills give him freedom, the only kind of freedom he truly has and can ever have,

and he no longer wants to waste his time competing with his classmates when there’s a world of adventure out there, waiting to be claimed.

.

jaskier is sixteen

and he is anguished sighs

because the boy he so foolishly gave his heart to has left him behind for someone who was less of a nuisance

but he doesn’t understand what he’d done wrong and he can’t share his sadness with anyone lest they make fun of him.

.

jaskier is seventeen

and he is poetic lies

because he needs to leave and he needs to leave as soon as possible and he has learned the hard way that truth gets him nowhere

so he builds himself a falsehood and he abandons nobility without a second thought, without even once looking back.

.

jaskier is eighteen

and he is optimistic narrations

because the world can be rather plain and it takes time to convince people that there’s more to life than simply getting by

but it’s not an easy task and being pessimistic would essentially be the equivalent of giving up before truly beginning.

jaskier is eighteen

and he is flirtatious compliments

because more often than not, his audiences find his performance appealing for more than one reason

and if it puts a roof over his head or gives him ideas for new ballads, then he really doesn’t mind the different kinds of attention he receives.

.

jaskier is eighteen

and he is awkward observations

because there is a beautiful witcher in his tavern and he wants nothing more than to get to know him

even if that means embarrassing himself in the process of gaining both bruises and a consistent friend.

.

jaskier is eighteen

and he is ambitious vows

because he has learnt that the tales of witchers from his teachers were all wrong and he can’t stop himself from needing to fix that,

no matter how many times they have to be thrown out of taverns and towns in the process.

.

jaskier is eighteen

and he is relentless ramblings

because geralt has something of an allergy to words and rarely replies with more than half a sentence

but he doesn’t mind because he finally has the chance to talk and talk and talk without being locked away inside a room too small to contain all of his thoughts.

.

jaskier is eighteen

and he is muffled screams

because gods does it hurt to be hit or stung or bitten or scratched by their latest contracts, but he doesn’t want to alarm geralt or slow him down

and he’s well-versed in how to treat his own wounds thanks to everyone who tried to stop him from being himself in the past.

.

jaskier is eighteen

and he is midnight whispers

because witchers don’t think they’re loveable and he so dearly wants to change that

even if it means repeating himself over and over under the moonlight until he’s met with a small smile and given something like trust.

.

jaskier is eighteen

and he is isolated comments

because he knows he should no longer still be eighteen

but he is afraid that saying so to anyone else will result in him being at the wrong end of a witcher’s silver sword.

.

jaskier is eighteen

and he is exasperated groans

because yennefer might be beautiful but she is a beautiful sort of poison and he really wants nothing to do with her

but it’s just his luck that the man he loves wants everything to do with her, so much so that he all but ruins their lives because of it.

.

jaskier is eighteen

and he is mirthful jokes

because there is a powerful young princess who needs to be entertained and he is good at making bargains with even the sharpest of rulers

but even he is not brave enough to tell her what her grandmother wishes never to speak of so he sticks to just making sure she’s okay.

.

jaskier is eighteen

and he is pained curses

because it turns out dragons are so much more of a mess than he’d signed up for

and actually, he’d never signed up for them in the first place so losing his muse is one thing he shouldn’t actually blame on himself.

.

jaskier is eighteen

and he is hollow bargains

because he truly no longer cares what he has to trade in order to ensure he survives to see another day

and it really doesn’t matter to him what happens as long as he can carry on performing.

.

jaskier is eighteen

and he is unstoppable shrieks

because there is a merciless army out hunting for the people he spent so long loving

but they have little patience for his honesty and they have even less patience for the fabricated nonsense that spills from him when the agony becomes too loud.

.

jaskier is eighteen

and he is broken howls

because it hurts to inhale and it hurts to exhale and it hurts to even exist at all

and the worst part is that he knows he will be forgotten and he will never have been important and he will have failed.

.

jaskier is eighteen

and he is desperate babbling

because mages are far worse than he’d ever thought they could be and they have so many different  ways to break people

and in the end, the easiest way to break him is to take away the one thing he has left to lose, the one thing that makes him who he is.

.

jaskier is eighteen

and he is soft whimpers

because the information he would never reveal truly has no way of being made available anymore

and there is nothing left for him to do but wait for everyone to get bored of how useless he is to them.

.

jaskier is eighteen

and he is surprised breaths

because he had assumed he would die before seeing daylight again but he wakes up to three sets of very concerned eyes,

all of which never stop staring at him as if he is weak and fragile and nothing like the versions of him they didn’t want to keep.

.

jaskier is eighteen

and he is internal confessions

because he’s more than glad to know that the people he cares for are still alive

but his language of love has always been verbal and it turns out he can no longer speak it, or anything else for that matter.

.

jaskier is

and jaskier is not

for jaskier lost himself somewhere amidst being eighteen,

and jaskier has no words

so he has circled all the way back to being unborn

and he is forever

unspoken.

-

thanks for reading !! masterlist | witcher blog: @itsjaskier 

[theangriestpea]

In the Shadows : Nine

Summary: Jughead Jones, resident werewolf, just wants to protect his family and his pack from the incoming doom of The Red Circle. Sweet Pea and Lily join him to help keep the Southside safe from human tyranny. Meanwhile a demon princess named Myra and succubus named Lavender had a plan to bring on the apocalypse. <ao3> <masterlist> <playlist>

Rating: Mature // Explicit

Pairings: Jughead Jones x OC, Sweet Pea x OC, Kurtz x OC

Warnings:  Smut, Choking, Hair pulling, Some dirty talk

Word Count: 5k+

A/N:   I am SO sorry this took so long to update. I got swept up in finishing Mercy Killing and writing the first chapter of the sequel that I didn't have time to get to this as soon as I would have liked. My productivity had tanked as my depression worsens due to isolation.

Chapter Nine : Soul Bound II

The issue with the time limit that Lily put on Sweet Pea’s eviction, was that they needed to be rid of Myra before his time was up. If Lily wanted to force her ex into the demon’s home, then she would need to make it safe for him first. Myra would more than likely kill him upon realizing that he had moved in. It simply wasn’t possible to do this out of order and everyone remained uninjured.

But, unbeknownst to Lavender, Lily had already accounted for that in her timetable. Today was the fifth day after Lav had given her the book, and today was the day that she was going to free the hybrid’s soul from Myra’s grasp. All she had to do was locate the demon princess.

Naturally, she had a plan for that too. On the last full moon, she had taken samples of the vargulf’s blood from inside of Jughead’s mouth. With it she was going to use a foolproof locating spell to find his whereabouts.

The one thing she didn’t expect was the fight Jughead and Lavender would have that would result in them not speaking to one another. Lavender had killed the second in command of The Red Circle. And while his body had not been (and never would be) found, Archie had been on a rampage since Reggie's disappearance to find him. Jughead was positive that he was going to retaliate at any moment. The redhead was a ticking time bomb and Lav had essentially made him impossible to diffuse.

Lavender had a plan for that too, not that she had told Jughead any of this because, again, they were not on speaking terms. Lily had opted to leave Jughead out of this process, figuring that he would hinder them this once. All she truly needed for this particular part were Lavender and Sweet Pea.

The two witches arrived at the demon’s house and knocked on the door. They heard a distant, very ill sounding voice telling them to come in. After a quick search, Lily found her friend in the bathroom with her head laying on the toilet seat. “I think I’m dying.” Lavender said pitifully and Lily tried not to crack a smile.

“I told you, you needed to drink the tea two times a day or you wouldn’t be able to leave the bathroom floor.” Lily said, sounding more motherly than upset. “Let me go make you some, extra strength. We have work to do.”

Lavender groaned at the thought of having to leave her safe haven within the master bathroom. Lily left to go to her kitchen and fix her some of the magic tea she had made. Sweet Pea, who was feeling somewhat awkward now that he actually had a conscience again, stood off to the side. “How is she?”

“Puking her guts out.” Lily said calmly as she started heating water with the use of a simple spell. “You know, like all women do their first trimester. You better not go back there or you’ll be joining her.”

Sweet Pea made a face that was some cross between annoyance and a pout. He had been a sympathy puker since he was a kid. He had always felt like it was a curse. “Are you really making me move in here in two days?”

Lily gave him a stern look. “She’s pregnant with your child. The least you could do is help protect her from the demon trying to take the baby. It’s not like she asked for this.”

“I didn’t ask for it either.” Sweet Pea said angrily. “It’s not like I wanted another one any time soon.”

“Well, you’re getting one. So man up.” Lily said as she put in just the right amount of sugar and honey. Sweet Pea was yet to be informed that him and Lavender were soulmates. The succubus had insisted that she would tell him when the timing was right, however Lily was starting to think that that time would never come. Hopefully, forcing them to live together would make it obvious to the dark witch eventually.

Once the tea was done brewing, she took it to Lavender who was currently throwing up for the fourth time that morning. “Do you even eat food?” Lily asked curiously, “what do you have to throw up?”

“I’m half human, Lily. Of course I eat food. Or I would if it didn’t all smell so goddamn awful.” She took the tea and took a sip. After swallowing, she sighed with relief. “That hits the spot.”

Lily smiled warmly. “Two cups a day and it won’t be nearly this bad. I promise. When Sweet Pea moves in, he can make it for you.”

Lav grumbled, “does he have to?”

“His soul needs to be healed and you’re the only one that can do that, Lavender. Your soul will no doubt need it too once I get it back today. You will not understand how truly powerful sex is until you have it with him again once you do. The three of us will be unstoppable.” Lily said in a tone that Lav knew not to question. Of course she was right, and deep down Lav knew that things had to come to a head sooner rather than later.

After about fifteen minutes, the tea began to settle her stomach enough for her to stand. “Are we doing this now?”

Lily smiled, leading her into the bedroom, “yes. We’re doing it now. The sooner you get it back, the better. We’ll be that much further from the written prophecy. Do you need help getting dressed or anything?”

Lav flashed her a sly look, “you know, most people buy me a drink first before trying to get me naked.”She wiggled her eyebrows at her playfully and Lily smacked her on the arm.

“I always forget that you’re perpetually horny.” Lily said, snorting back a laugh. “Hurry up, our baby daddy is waiting on us.”

The demon groaned as she slowly got dressed in a fitted t-shirt and skinny jeans. She threw her long purple hair up into a messy bun before brushing her teeth. Once finished she rejoined the witches in the living room, purposefully avoiding Sweet Pea’s gaze. “Let’s get this over with.”

Lily had cast the spell an hour before this, knowing that the vargulf was much too sick to move. In the event that he had changed locations, she had more blood to redo the spell. Although she didn’t think that would be at all necessary. Her intuition was much sharper now that she was with Jughead. It was amazing the kind of power soulmate sex magic could give you. She wished Lavender understood that, because with the added power of the baby inside of her then she could potentially be much stronger than her captor.

Kurtz had been sleeping in a run down apartment complex on the other side of the Southside. Using her powers of seduction, Lavender was able to get the exact apartment number from the lobby attendant. She found it a little too easy to get him to submit to her will, taking any kind of fun that she may have had out of it.

Her display with the small man made Sweet Pea on edge, and he had no idea why he cared. It wasn’t as if she was actually interested in this mortal loser. When she rejoined them, smirk on her plump lips, she finally looked at him. He held her gaze and they were almost pulled together by some magnetic force of attraction. Lily walked between them, breaking the moment before someone ripped someone else’s clothes off. She had no idea how she didn’t see the connection between them before, but since Sweet Pea’s soul was back in place it was getting more and more obvious.

Lav told Lily that he was in apartment 66 and she led them to the elevator to the sixth floor. Once there they made their way down the dirty hallway to the sixth apartment. Written in red beside the second 6 was a third, so that the numbers read 666. Lily didn’t refrain from rolling her eyes.

“Your turn.” She said to Sweet Pea as motioned for them to give him some space. Both women stepped back a few paces and he easily broke down the door. Lily gave him a deadpan stare, “I meant pick the lock. You’re such a brute.”

Sweet Pea shrugged before walking into the room, “it smells like rotten asshole in here.” He said, bringing his hand up to cover his mouth and nose.

Lily and Lav looked at each other with looks of disgust. “It’s Kurtz. Try having him in your bathtub after running around in the rain. As if I already didn’t have enough excuse to vomit.” Lav said, trying to will her nausea away.

Lily shook her head as she located the broken boy laying on a near bare mattress on the floor of the only bedroom. The soulmates were a step behind her. The white witch glanced at Lav, “call her here.” She instructed.

Lav nodded and closed her eyes, saying a silent prayer to Myra to bring her in. A split second later, Myra appeared. “Wha-” She stopped upon the sight of the two witches. “What are you two doing here? Shanna, I told you that you were not to be around them anymore.”

Myra moved, as if to attack her slave on the spot, however Sweet Pea stepped in front of her. His arms were crossed and there was a murderous look upon his face. Clearly she’d have to go through him, not that he was nearly as big of an obstacle as he thought he was.

“Myra.” Lily snapped, her voice sounding commanding. “We’re here to make a deal.”

The demoness turned, looking at the small witch with contempt. “What deal would I make with a mortal?”

She motioned towards Kurtz. His unconscious body was eerily close to death. “I can heal him. I can save him. All you have to do is one thing for me in return.”

Myra’s eyes flitted between her lover and her mortal enemy. She knew the only way to heal him was through white magic. White magic with Lily possessed in abundance. Did she let Kurtz die? Or did she save him and do what the witch asked?

It was minutes before an answer came. “What do you want?” She asked through gritted teeth. Her weakness had been found and there was no way to hide it now.

Lily shrugged nonchalantly. “Give Lavender her soul and freedom back. That’s it. Do that and I’ll make him healthy and human again.”

Myra’s jaw nearly dropped at the request. Her fists clenched so hard that her sharp nails tore into the flesh of her palms, blood seeping slowly from between her fingers. “You want me to what?”

“You heard me.” Lily countered, her gaze unwavering. “Her soul and freedom for Kurtz’s health.”

“This won’t stop it.” Myra said hotly, knowing that they now possessed one of the few books with the ill fated prophecy inside. “The two of them having their souls back is not enough to stop it. I will have that child, and I will take her to hell to my father, and hell will reign supreme.”

A bored expression crossed Lily’s face. “That’s fine.” Her cool tone put the demon on edge. Was this some kind of trap? Did she know already how to stop the apocalypse? Or was she bluffing?

Myra turned once more to Kurtz, who let out a painful wheeze. “Do it. Heal him and I’ll bring it back.”

“Nuh uh.” Lily replied, shaking her head. “Soul first, healing after.”

Myra’s skin seemed to turn red with rage. Sweet Pea moved to the side as Myra approached Lavender one more time. She put two fingers onto the succubus’ pulse point, in which the pentacle was engraved. After chanting a few words, Lav felt intense waves of emotion flooding through her. She stumbled back, and she would have fallen had Sweet Pea not caught her. He held her in her arms, as Lav began to feel ice cold.

“It’s no use.” Myra said, “it’s been in the coldest, darkest parts of hell for two decades. Even soulmate magic won’t heal it.”

“We’ll see about that.” Lily said as she moved to Kurtz and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead while her palms held his cheeks. It took a fair amount of concentration and energy, but after a powerful pulse of white magic, Kurtz was devoid of the vargulf curse.

Lily released him from her grasp, standing straight and pretending not to feel faint from the mass use of her power. “This is a one time deal.” Lily said threateningly. “I won’t heal him a second time. You’d be wise not to put another curse on him.”

Myra simply glared. Sweet Pea picked up Lavender in both arms, her head lulling against his chest sleepily. Lily motioned for them to leave first, in case Myra had some kind of trick up her sleeve.

Once they were out, Lily had to rest against the wall. Sweet Pea gave her a worried look. “We should have brought Jughead.”

“Jughead is being stubborn right now. I’ll be okay, just give me a second.” Lily said as she took a few good deep breaths.

Sweet Pea looked down at the demon in his arms. “What did Myra mean by soulmate magic? I didn’t think demons had soulmates.”

Lily sighed, “they don’t. But hybrids with human souls do.” She had promised Lavender that she wouldn’t say, however the time felt right. She wasn’t sure when she’d get a chance and Lav was near unconsciousness. “Sweet Pea, there’s a reason it had to be you.” She said cryptically, hoping he’d get it.

His eyes hardened. “She’s not…” Suddenly a lot of his feelings made sense. The insane attraction, the addictiveness to the sex he had with her, and while he was very pissed off that his soulmate was a succubus of all things, it was also relieving to know that he wasn’t somehow under some kind of spell. His shoulders slumped with defeat. “Then she can fix me.” He added softly.

Lily smiled, “you can fix each other.”

When they arrived back at Sunnyside, Lily did not follow them into the house. Instead she bid them farewell and decided to go back to the cottage where Jughead was watching over Daisy. Sweet Pea had asked her repeatedly if she was alright, seeing her sway as she walked as if she were going to fall over at any minute. Lily insisted of course that she was fine and just needed rest, which she would get once she got home.

In the meantime she told him to stay with Lavender and do some healing when she wakes up, because they were both in desperate need of it. Sweet Pea, unsure how he felt about having sex with Lav after what happened last time, didn’t really want to do any of the ‘healing’ magic she was talking about. Even if this was an entirely different situation.

Lavender had fallen asleep at some point during their return. Slowly her body heat had returned to her and he was no longer worried about her possibly being hypothermic. Still she was clutched onto his denim vest rather tightly, as if he was going to up and drop her at any moment.

Once he was inside the house, he took her into the master bedroom and laid her down on the bed. As soon as he pulled away from her though, her eyes opened up lazily. “I’m cold.” She mumbled to him, almost incoherently. Sweet Pea sat down next to her, unsure of what he should do in the moment.

Lav sat up, rubbing her forehead for a moment before reaching out to touch him. She gently pushed her influence into him, making him turn and give her a confused look. “You didn’t have a soul.” She said simply, knowing what was stopping him. She had been awake enough to hear Lily’s last words to him, her kind suggestion for them to make up. “Make it up to me now.” Her voice became a whisper as she pulled her hand away.

Sweet Pea slipped off his denim vest and the flannel he had on underneath. Lav sat up and took off her shirt in one fluid motion. “Just, uh, don’t touch my chest. My boobs are really sore right now.” A light blush crossed her fair cheeks as she continued to look up at him sheepishly. He had no idea a demon could conjure up such a look and still be genuine.

“They’re bigger.” He commented, checking out her breasts. “Perks of pregnancy.”

A small pout formed on her lips, “Perk? They’re driving me nuts. How am I supposed to get off if you can’t touch them?”

Sweet Pea couldn’t help but laugh somewhat darkly, “I’ll get you off just fine, trust me.”

She rolled her eyes at him, taking her bra off and he noticed her nipple piercings were gone. “You’re letting them close?” He had quite liked them, if he were at all honest with himself. Seeing them gone was a little saddening.

“I’m essentially a shapeshifter. I can make my piercings come and go as I please. They’ll be back once I’m baby free.” Lav answered, catching his disappointment. It was quite amusing to her.

“So you can turn into anyone?” He asked curiously.

She shrugged, “anyone in my imagination, sure.”

He wondered how he could use this to his advantage sometime in the future. Since they were soulmates he foresaw plenty of sex in their lifetime and if she could shapeshift then he could practically have sex with anyone he wanted to. The thought was a bit reinvigorating.

Then, another thought crossed his mind, “so what do you really look like?” He asked, curious.

Lav laughed a bit then, “I looked like this when I was a human, pretty much. I didn’t have as many piercings and I’m naturally blonde. I just love the color purple.”

She didn’t waste much more time, tugging her pants off and throwing up off to the side. Sweet Pea’s eyes swept down her legs, enjoying the view as he got rid of his own pants.

Whenever they were both down to just underwear, Sweet Pea kneeled down between her legs, grabbing both of her thighs with his large hands to pull her down further onto the bed so that she was on her back. Lav let out a small giggle which urged him to go farther.

He grabbed the elastic of her underwear and slid them down her legs before tossing them to the side. The succubus watched him closely, having not expected him to eat her out. He just didn’t seem the type.

He kissed up her thighs, alternating between left and right until he reached her labia. His tongue teased the slit between them and Lavender shuddered in his grasp. The tip of his tongue reached her clit and circled in slowly.

Lav let out a small whimper, unable to stand the anticipation. Sweet Pea was smirking against her skin as he began to suck on the sensitive bundle of nerves. He easily inserted his middle finger into her core, moving it at a languid pace. The demon bit her lip to try and keep herself from squirming.

Sweet Pea continued the ministrations with his tongue, even biting her clit lightly to tease her. He increased the speed of his finger, curling it inside her to what felt like the perfect angle.

The faster he moved, the more breathy she became. Whimpering and mewling, her hips eventually jerking until he held them down with his free hand. He was pumping his finger as fast as he possibly could and she wondered how she could feel so much pleasure from just a single digit.

His tongue was lapping at her clit at a furious pace, sucking harder and harder until she hit her peak. Her toes curled almost painfully, her eyes flashing black as her back arched. Lav shook, gasping from the intensity as he licked her clean.

Already the pieces of her soul felt as if they were beginning to reconnect. It was a dizzying sensation that left her feeling like the room was spinning. She briefly wondered if he was feeling the same.

The room wasn’t spinning for Sweet Pea, but he was feeling something much more powerful than the intense depression that had been plaguing him. He watched her come down ever so gently from her high and wondered how he was so lucky to get a soulmate as beautiful as she was.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Lav asked after finally regaining her ability to see straight. “It’s weird, stop.” His gaze had been bordering on affectionate and despite being soulmates it was entirely too strange to her after how he had previously treated her.

Sweet Pea snorted, “you’re such a brat.” He mumbled before kissing her neck. She immediately forgot her discomfort and moaned lightly into his ear. The sound was sinfully harmonious.

“Don’t you like brats, daddy?” She teased, brushing her hips upward so that his hard clothed cock rubbed against her thigh. He couldn’t help but groan into the kiss against her pulse. Since the brand was gone, it no longer hurt her for him to touch it.

She reached down and tugged his boxers down as far as she could reach. He lifted up and took them off the rest of the way, parting from her flesh for only a brief moment before returning to leave black and purple bruises across her jugular.

Her hand delicately wrapped around his shaft, moving up and down gently. He couldn’t help but thrust into her grasp, making her giggle in response. “You don’t have to be so gentle.” She coaxed, “I know that’s not your forte. It’s not mine either.”

Sweet Pea sat up so he could look down at her and gauge whether or not she was telling the truth. “Are you sure?” He asked, knowing that last time he had been much too rough with her and now he wanted to make up for it...even if it made the sex a bit less enjoyable in his opinion.

She smiled at him assuredly. “Trust me, you won’t hurt me again.” She then yanked him down for a forceful kiss to prove to him that she did not want this to be some boring love making session. That wasn’t what she needed, even if that’s what he thought she did.

“Then roll over.” He growled at her after breaking the kiss. He lifted off of her enough so she could turn onto her stomach, immediately she pushed her ass up to rub against his erection. He grunted, teasing her by moving his hips in a subtle jerk.

He pressed his palm between her shoulder blades and forced her upper body down against the mattress, his hand slid down her spine as he sat up on his knees. Once he was up he gave her ass a firm slap hard enough to leave a red hand print. Lav let out a whine at the stinging pain.

“Keep your legs together.” He ordered as he grabbed his dick and aligned himself up to her pussy, pushing in without much hesitation. Lavender kept her knees together as his hand trailed back up her spine to grab the loose bun on the top of her head and yank it back.

The pulling of her hair forced her to sit back up, she cursed lightly under her breath at how amazing it felt to be completed by him once more. She could have never imagined how much better the sex would feel with both of their souls now intact with their corporal forms.

Sweet Pea held onto her hair in one hand while the other gripped her hip. He pulled back to the point where the only part of him within her was the head of his penis, then he snapped his hips roughly into her. The action elicited a loud moan, the force and friction sending thrills up her spine and making her head spin once more with delight.

He stayed still for another brief moment before doing it again and again, building up speed with each thrust. His hold on her kept her in place so that she couldn’t jerk forward away from him with the force of his thrusts.

She was moaning more, much louder now than she had been when he was using his mouth to pleasure her. She had been quiet then, almost meek. Now she was definitely unabashed and whatever had held her back before was totally gone. He absolutely adored the noises coming from her, the sounds urging him to go faster and harder.

Once he reached a good rhythm, he pulled her hair hard enough to bring her into a more upward position. As soon as he could comfortably reach her throat, the hand that had been on her hip grabbed around it, his palm against the front and fingers wrapping almost totally around it.

He applied pressure slightly, only adding more when he thrust into her. Lavender’s lightheadedness grew and just when she thought she might be completely gone, his grip slackened. Blood surged through her neck and into her brain, flooding her with endorphins. She gasped for breath, “ Fuck ,” was all she could manage to say before he began nearing her to the edge again.

His repeatedly making her consciousness bob up and down had her ready to come and somehow he knew this without her having to tell him. He kept his grip loose now as if daring her to struggle against him. “Come on you little whore,” He said in an authoritative tone. “Come all over daddy’s dick. You like getting choked like this, don’t you? Fucking slut.”  

Lav cried out, her eyes deep pools of obsidian as she orgasmed for a second time. She grabbed his wrist, claws digging into him to the point of drawing blood. Sweet Pea moaned at the pain, somehow managing to move his hips faster before releasing his grip on her so he could hold onto her hips again.

Lav fell forward onto the bed, the only reason her hips and ass stayed up were because he was holding onto him. In minutes he was coming inside of her, filling her core with semen. Sweet Pea breathed heavily, holding the same position until he regained his wits about him. He pulled out and released his hold on her, guiding her hips to lay down on the bed softly.

He collapsed next to her, arms stretched above his head with his eyes closed. A moment later he felt a small weight on his chest and he knew it was her head. She uncurled herself from the position he had left her in so that her body was flush against his side. Her leg lifted so that their thighs were crossing and her arm lazily flung around his waist.

“You know Lily is going to make you live here now.” She said, her eyes also closed as she was on the verge of falling asleep. She felt so incredibly full that it was making her drowsy.

Sweet Pea hummed, “Does that mean I can have sex with you whenever I want?” He asked, his voice obviously hopeful.

Lav snorted back at him, “No. It means you can have sex with me whenever I want.”

He couldn’t stop the chuckle from coming out of his mouth, “it’s a deal.”

Meanwhile in Fox Forest, Lily had arrived at the cottage. She entered, dragging her feet as she forced herself to push forward. Jughead, sensing her exhaustion quickly met her in the entryway, catching her as she started to collapse onto the floor.

“Lily?” He asked worriedly as he picked her up. “You should have called me, I would have picked you up!”

Lily let out a small tired sigh. Despite her state, there was a smile on her face. “They can be happy now, Jug. It worked.”

Jughead sighed as he carried her into her bedroom. “I’m glad it worked, Lils, but you really should have called me. I could have brought Daisy with me. What if you had passed out in the forest? It’s not safe.”

She didn’t seem to be hearing his lecture though. As he laid her down she grabbed him, pulling him in for a loving kiss. His energy entwined with hers beautifully, her skin practically glowing with the new source of energy. Jughead pulled away lightly. “It was reckless-”

“Where’s Daisy?” She asked, ignoring his chiding her again.

“She’s playing in her room.” Jughead said. “I believe the stuffed animals were having some kind of important coven meeting. I didn’t want to disturb her because it sounded serious.”

Lily couldn’t help but laugh. He was so good to her little girl and it was so refreshing to know that she could trust him with her when she needed to. He was so amazing. “She wants to ride on your back next full moon. I told her no and she cried about it for hours.”

Jug cocked his head to the side, “she wants a ride? I can do that.”

“Jug, please, you don’t have to.” Lily said, trying not to giggle at the mental image. “She’ll get over it.”

He grinned, “it’ll be fun! We can even put a necklace on me to act as reigns and-”

She silenced him with another kiss. “If that’s what you want to do, my love.”

The wolf relented to his urge to crawl into bed with her. He laid down and pulled her into his chest so he could bury his face in her light colored hair. “Did you ever figure out what the last bit of the prophecy meant? Light meeting dark to bring balance or whatever?”

Lily let out a small sigh, “not yet. I’m still working on it.”

He gave her body an affectionate squeeze, “just rest for now. We’ll try to decipher it later.” She let out a contented sound before letting herself succumb to sleep.

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[internaljiujitsu]

5 Realizations That (Finally) Got Me Off The ADHD Treadmill

I used to hate reading books. I did it anyway but couldn’t last more than five or ten minutes before dozing off or having my mind dart away to distant lands. Like the skinny kid with no appetite that had to force feed himself to pack on muscle, I shoved books into my brain because I hated the idea of not being well read more than I hated reading.

As a kid, I often left things undone. — or worn out to the nub. After beginning enthusiastically, I’d soon lose steam and beat myself from pillar to post for quitting. I’d always hang around through the torture just to avoid the sting of giving up again. Once the interest was gone, whatever I was doing became pure misery. This would inevitably lead to mental and physical breakdown, as every cell in my body rejected the reality my mind was accepting.

I got good grades and excelled athletically but always thought I could do better. There seemed to be a gear missing — the one that I just knew could take me to a place that felt right. If I were just better, more disciplined and able to focus more — but I didn’t think I had it in me.

Back then, I didn’t know I was working with a slight disadvantage. While medication has played a crucial role in managing my ADHD, and no doubt would have made a massive difference in my childhood, it’s been just as important to build coping and productivity skills. While ADHD makes it difficult to work for other people, it also challenges your ability to self-regulate. Your perception of time is thrown off, so keeping track of your own schedule can be tough without a system.

Before I ever tried medication, in my forties, I spent my life learning skills to make up for what I saw as inadequacies. I’m thankful that I built a technical foundation before supplementing with chemicals, but eternally grateful for what meds have done for me. Once I was properly diagnosed, I realized that the progress I was able to make on my own was astonishing. Giving myself credit for putting in the work motivated me further. The medication made it all click. It was the missing piece I’d been searching for after years of hard inner and outer training.

Here are my five keys for finally jumping off the ADHD treadmill. Once I inserted these into my belief system, I no longer felt hopeless. The limiting, negative self-talk stopped. It took a long time to finally put everything together, but the results have been life changing.

Meds Are Not Evil

Like a lot of other people, I didn’t believe ADHD was real. My perception was that it was a made up disorder designed by drug companies to pump kids full of personality stifling drugs — an excuse for parents to medicate energetic kids and abdicate responsibility.

Meanwhile, I lived every day in lonely terror, until my symptoms became so overwhelming that I became suicidal. At that point, medicine was my last hope. I read books, meditated, prayed, had countless therapy sessions, including EMDR, and took massive action to change my life — but I hit a healing wall. I needed a boost.

The wiring in my brain makes it so ADHD medication that would make the average person speedy simply makes me feel normal. I am no longer listless and suicidal, disappointed in myself because my aspirations outweigh my self-belief. Before meds, it felt as if I was receiving random radio signals from everywhere. The one that always caught my ear never had anything good to say. Still, my disciplined nature dragged me through my days.

The stigma against medication and the dangerous abuse of these drugs by the general public has left many people unnecessarily living in misery. Prisons and homeless shelters are purgatories for the mislabeled, ignored and discarded members of society unlucky enough to suffer from mental illness. How many of those fortunes could have been altered with the right diagnosis, treatment and protocol?

2. Medication + Discipline = Badass

As a person that uses discipline as therapy, I once thought I could muscle my way through pain. Becoming older in the martial arts world means you have to fight smarter. That’s the trade off — you are wiser and have a much better understanding of your art, but your body does not react the same. Nature seeks balance.

But fuck that. If you take care of yourself, you can whip on the youngins long after your head is covered in gray. Combining experience with conditioning makes you unstoppable. That’s how I see my mental health approach.

If you have no clarity, you won’t make the best choices. You simply can’t see what’s in front of you without a trained eye. The frantic nature of the ADHD mind is like a white belt thrown into what we call the “shark tank.” It’s a relentless onslaught of tough competitors coming in fresh at intervals to continuously beat your ass. No place for white belts. That’s what life feels like off my meds.

The passions that occupy my time have kept my brain buzzing enough to distract me from my buzzing brain. Now that the unwanted chatter is gone, I can feel the good kind of buzz — the warm, fuzzy feeling of loving what I do without feeling like I have to do it.

Would I have preferred avoiding all the pain I felt over the years and just been medicated all along? No. If life didn’t necessitate that I acquire the skills that I have, I wouldn’t have been driven to pursue them. I may have relied too much on the drug. I would not have changed. But I have a feeling the relief of the meds wouldn’t have been enough — It’s just not who I am. I know that now. Eventually, I would have gone searching. At times I almost feel like I have an unfair advantage now. Technical ability and practical experience. Strength and skill. Balance. I’m glad it happened the way it did.

3. You Feel How You Eat

While nutrition has always been important to me for physical fitness, I was more concerned with appearance. As I got older, my focus became increasing my energy levels and feeling better. It wasn’t until after being diagnosed and forming habits around optimizing my abilities that I realized the importance of nutrition for good mental health. Inflammation caused by certain foods is detrimental to brain function and a frequent culprit in ADHD.

Once you’ve gone down a suicidal rabbit whole, giving up gluten is a tiny price to pay for sanity. Not that you know what sanity is — you just know you don’t have it.

Unfortunately, a lot of people don’t give a second thought to the type of food they put in their mouths. Lifestyle is a gigantic factor in mental fitness. Eating foods that promote brain health (fatty fish, blueberries, avocados) and avoiding processed products and sugar will ensure you have the energy and mental clarity to face the day.

4. Your Phone Is A Tool

People love to complain about how their phones have taken over their lives, but we’ve got the most amazing tools ever invented in our pockets. You can read books, listen to podcasts, watch Ted Talks — non stop learning at your fingertips — all the time.

But, with great power comes great responsibility (Stan Lee will never steer you wrong). Just like television can range from “The Sopranos” to “Jersey Shore,” your cell phone can educate or anesthetize you. If you’re not disciplined, your time will be eaten up swiping left to right and “liking” shit you couldn’t care less about.

Take advantage of your calendar and alarm features to schedule everything. Don’t assume you’re gonna remember, because let’s be honest, you’re gonna forget. Use voice memos and notes to keep track of ideas and journal your feelings and thoughts. You know you have to keep yourself occupied, so download the Kindle app and have a book at the ready for down time. Listen to a guided meditation. Take an online course on the go. Learn a new language. It really is endless. Use it wisely, and your phone is the ultimate weapon. No utility belt required.

5. Less Sleep Isn’t Helping

Feeling lazy had me convinced I needed to force myself to do more. That meant getting up earlier so I could get shit done. With a schedule that had me winding down at ten o’clock at night after teaching martial arts classes, it was tough to go right to bed. If I wasn’t careful, I’d lose a half hour of sleep here and there because I wanted to stay up watching television (which miraculously has a way of leading to chips or ice cream). Arnold Schwarzzenegger famously said that you should learn to sleep faster if you can’t get by on six hours of sleep. After years of insisting on shutting down for a minimum of 7–8 hours to promote physical recovery from training, I tried getting by on just 5–6 hours. No dice.

My brain and body just don’t work the same. The sleep I was getting wasn’t all that restful either. I’d frequently wake up during the night feeling restless. It wasn’t until I developed sleep rituals that I began falling asleep quickly and getting a deeper rest. With repetition, my body and mind got used to the same sequence of events every night leading up to bed time. Once I trained my brain, my body knew what to do as soon as my head hit the pillow.

By now, I’ve learned that seven hours is my sweet spot. Eight clean hours can make me feel like superman (mental note: start sleeping eight hours a night).

Recent research suggests ADHD symptoms are often a result of insufficient restful sleep. Sleep deprivation also exacerbates symptoms in kids and adults with ADHD. Your physical and emotional state is undoubtedly better when you get sufficient rest. Staying up late into the night with unproductive bullshit is a mistake, but so is getting by on five hours because you want to prove you’re a tough grinder. You simply won’t be functioning as well. It’s self-sabotage.

There is no magic pill to fix you. If you think of meds that way, you’ll be putting scotch tape on a gunshot wound. You’ve gotta stop the bleeding. Dig the bullet out. Repair the internal damage — then stitch it up. You’ve gotta let it heal and start actively rehabilitating if you want to get stronger. It’s not going to happen by accident or by divine intervention — even though it may feel like that in the end.

Although I’ve developed a good arsenal of skills to maximize my mental wellbeing, I still want to continue growing. My next step will be scanning my brain to understand what areas are being over or under stimulated and adjusting my lifestyle accordingly. As Dr. Daniel Amen, one of the nation’s foremost psychiatrists and a leading expert on brain health says, “Did you know that psychiatrists are the only medical specialists that virtually never look at the organ they treat? Think about it. Cardiologists look, neurologists look, orthopedic doctors look, virtually every other medical specialist looks — psychiatrists guess.”

It seems so obvious now that I want to run out and get my brain scanned as I write this. I’m excited to discover what changes I can make to improve my performance and sense of well being. Brain imaging will provide a road map.

No matter the cards you’ve been dealt, planning and hard work can help you become who you want to be. No circumstance is a limitation to an open mind. There are always ways to improve if you’re willing to search long enough. Luckily for me, I tend to get a little obsessed.