#pity me. please. at least go look at it on my blog

[thiefofblood]

been sitting on this sketch bc i hated kabru's face but decided to just call it somewhere. did y'all know laios's hair color is maka's hair color learned that with this

commissions | ko-fi | shop

[tonycries]

One More? Please? - G.S.

Synopsis. A kiss always solves everything! But when a kiss turns into something more…well, it’s only a desperate attempt to unseal yourselves from this damned prison realm, right? Right?

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected, coworkers to lovers, being stuck in that damn box, oral (female), mutual másturbation, spitting, fáce-sítting, máting press, Satoru is down bad for you, chóking, overstim, multiple rounds, créampie, pet names (sweetheart), swearing.

Word count. 4.4k

A/N. Happy belated two months to this blog! Concept inspired by this post by @kingkonoha.

“Maybe we should kiss and see if the box opens?”

“That’s the dumbest fucking thing to ever come out of your mouth.”

“Hey- it works in the movies! True love’s kiss and all-”

You heave out a heavy sigh that makes even the skeleton at your shoulder shake its head in pity. Goddamn, if these curses weren’t going to kill him then you will. 

“I take it back. That’s the dumbest fucking thing to ever come out of your mouth.”

Satoru hooks a thumb over his blindfold to gaze at you with mock seriousness. Oh, how the mighty have fallen - and how you were teetering dangerously close to a stroke with each dramatic bat of his long lashes.

“C’monnn~” he whines, with the flair of someone that was not sealed in an inescapable prison, “Don’t tell me that in all these years you’ve never once been at least a little tempted to kiss me, sweetheart.” 

“I’d rather kiss that dusty skull.” Shooting him a pointed look that makes even the skulls at your feet recoil. It would almost be hilarious if it wasn’t for the fact that you were trapped. In the prison realm. With Gojo Satoru of all people. Possibly forever.

Shit, is this karma for all those times you ditched Satoru with Nanami instead of dealing with him yourself?

Now, Satoru might be going about it with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, but just a few minutes ago when his life flashed before his very eyes at the mere sight of Suguru - or at least, the monster wearing his body - he’d expected some of his favorite memories to be the ones with you in it. 

You - his lil’ coworker - in all your gorgeous, smart-mouthed glory. And maybe if he was lucky, he even expected a couple glimpses of you in his future. Preferably with a giant rock on your finger.

But that’s a story for another time, what he certainly did not expect was for your stupidly heroic (and quite beautiful) ass to jump right in the middle of the prison realm’s ensnarement. 

Although, honestly, right now he doesn’t think he’d want to be locked up in here with anyone but you - and that withering glare you send him. 

Undeterred, Satoru has the audacity to throw his head back and laugh. Laugh. A sound you’ve come to realize over the years, as innocent as it sounds, does not bode well for you or your sanity. 

A sanity that’s been slowly dwindling since your first day of meeting Satoru. Back then, a brash, cocky new teacher that waltzed into the halls of Jujutsu Tech in those pretentious sunglasses like he owned the place. 

Well, not that he was any different right now. Lounging over some disgruntled skeletons, you half-expected him to pull out a deck chair and start sunbathing amidst the bones. Your begrudging coworker - and occasional bane of your existence - seemed right at home. 

You, however, were decidedly not having the time of your life. 

“I swear, you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” you grumble, wincing at the bones prodding you from almost every angle. 

“Can you blame me?” he hums, now fully tugging down his blindfold to hang around his neck, “It’s not every day I get to spend quality time with my favorite person in the world.”

You scoff, strangely self-conscious as those striking blue sweep your figure from head to toe. “Lucky me. Well why don’t you spend this quality time helping me figure out how the hell we can get out of here.”

“I already told y-”

“Anything but that.”

With a sulky huff, Satoru peers down at you, “Then we just wait till someone gets us out of here. I’m sure Megumi-chan is just tearing his emo hair out trying to unseal this thing.”

“...”

“You’re absolutely correct, Yuji then. Or…” he tilts his head towards a sad pile of bones, “We end up like our little friend over there. Though I’d make a far better looking skeleton-”

You don’t hear the rest of Satoru’s rant over the small noise of concern that falls from your lips. Something hot and prickly pooling in your stomach at the fact that yes you really were stuck in the prison realm with Gojo Satoru. Possibly forever. And no this wasn’t some strange dream like when you and Shoko accidentally raided the wrong brownie box in the kitchen.

Shit. 

And perhaps it showed on your face, because you’re jolted out of your reverie by warm fingers intertwining with yours. Grounding. Satoru’s eyes now searching yours with an intensity that made you squirm uncomfortably. 

“Hey, we’ll figure this out, okay?” he mutters softly. “Remember that time we accidentally set the training ground on fire?” leaning in closer now, “Or that mission we got chased by that cursed vending machine?”

You roll your eyes, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of your lips despite yourself. “Yeah, and then you nearly got us killed trying to order a sweet tea. ”

Satoru chuckles, squeezing your hand reassuringly. “See? It worked out, didn’t it? It always does, sweetheart.” 

And if your heart does a strange little lurch, well, then you just blame it on the femur jabbing into your side. 

All is quiet in your little hell. That is, until.

“Hey, Satoru…does kissing really work in the movies?” 

You barely catch the way Satoru’s breath hitches ever-so-slightly as he leans in closer. eyes sparkling with mischief. And oh you knew that look - one that was usually accompanied by a lecture by Yaga, one that sent shivers down your spine. He grins, “Well, there’s only one way to find out, hm?”

Embarrassment and amusement bubbles inside you, tumbling out in the form of a barely-audible, “A peck. One.”

“Awww. Eight?”’

“No.”

“Five?”

“Satoru.”

Minty breath fanning your face, “Okay okay, one peck and a kiss to your forehead. C’mon, it’s a bargain~”

Pinching your nose, you sigh out a weary, “This is so stupid. Fine, but if it doesn’t work then I’m strangling you.”

And it’s all that is said before his lips are on yours.  

Soft. Satoru’s lips were so soft. And he tasted so unfairly of caramel apples and sweet, sweet mischief. Just like him. Feather-light and fleeting - yet the kiss burns into your brain with an intensity that you strangely didn’t mind.

It’s over before you know it. The cold air hits your lips as Satoru’s words ring in your ears, a disappointed little, “Aw, that didn’t work.”

Barely even risking a glance at the still very sealed realm, your body reacts before your mind - the expensive cotton of his uniform collar soft against your fingers as you pull Satoru towards you with a sense of urgency you can’t quite explain.

And then you’re kissing him. And he’s kissing you because shit this is all that Satoru’s been dreaming about since he turned 23 and suddenly realized that oh you were frighteningly everything that he ever wanted. 

“S-Satoru,” you whisper, breathless against his lips. 

“Shhhh, my girl. One more. Didn’t work.” 

His lips are searing on yours. Urgent and greedy, because fuck if it took getting trapped in the prison realm to finally kiss you then God knows when he’ll be able to again. 

Which is why he breathes you in like he doesn’t have enough time, and probably never will - even in this godforsaken box where time never passes. 

“Shit. O-one more.”

Drinking in your sweet gasps as he intertwines his tongue with yours, tasting how sinfully delicious you were. Satoru’s hands wander the expanse of your body, cupping your head to kiss you deeper, snaking down to squeeze your ass - and everything in between. 

Pulling away ever-so-slightly with a playful bite to your bottom lip, he leaves a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. The disappointed whine that leaves your pretty mouth makes all the blood in Satoru’s body rush to his cock. 

“Sweetheart.” he grunts into the crook of your neck, lips ghosting over your racing pulse. “Y’think I kissed the wrong lips?”

Oh? 

Satoru’s words send a jolt of electricity running down your spine - all the way down to your heated cunt. “W-what?” you managed to choke out, cheeks flaring as he raises his eyes to meet yours and-

Oh.

Oh, shit. If the curses weren’t going to kill you then Satoru sure might. 

You’re snapped out of your thoughts by Satoru carefully jostling the two of you so that he’s lying on his back, your body manhandled to straddle his pretty face. 

“Satoru, when you mean ‘wrong lips’...here?” you trail off, still reeling from him and the abrupt change in position and him. 

��Exactly what I mean,” he chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest and vibrating beneath your dripping cunt. “Now, spread ‘em wider f’me. Let me taste you- Need it s’bad.”

Body moving as if on autopilot, your knees part wider to let him greedily take in the sight of your soaked panties. Beads of slick seeping through the thin fabric each time his hot breath meets your cunt. 

But not for long - the cool air hits you before you realize what’s happening. Because Satoru is ripping your flimsy panties off with one hand. Throwing it behind to God-knows-where with the urgency of a madman. 

“Shit, so wet f’me already.” he groans, mouth watering at the obscene sight of you clenching around nothing. “S’gorgeous. You really are perfect everywhere, huh?” he mutters through lazy, languid kisses along your thighs. Tongue darting out just so to leisurely trace circles along the heated skin. 

Strong arms wrap around your thighs, the stretch nothing with the two long fingers spreading your swollen folds apart. Your face burns from just how adoring Satoru looks below you.

You buck into his touch, “Hngh- Please. Wan’ your mouth on me.”

And perhaps the great Gojo Satoru decided to be merciful for once in his life, because without another word, he’s surging forward. Tongue flicking out to tease your sloppy entrance, pooling your juices before tipping his head back, back, back to let it slide down his throat so sinfully.

Shit, Satoru could just cum in his pants right now, of course you taste heavenly. Better than he could’ve ever imagined on any lonely night. 

You shudder as he flattens his tongue across your folds, sliding teasingly between them, grazing your swollen clit just barely at an unhurried rhythm that almost has Satoru forgetting where he was. But quite frankly, he couldn’t give less of a fuck about it either.

“This what you wanted, sweetheart?” he hums around your clit, the vibrations making you squeal. Sucking gently, tongue rolling harshly against your bundle of nerves, over and over- “Cause it’s what I’ve been wanting for years.”

The words ring in your ears almost as much as the lewd squelches below. Years?

“F-fuck- feels hngh- What do you mean y-years, Satoru?” 

Oh, Satoru thinks he could pass out just at the way you whine out his name so prettily. Eyes rolling to the back of his head, a hand hastily snaking down to unbuckle his pants. “Mhmm~ Couldn’t go a day without sparring with you where I didn’t think of bending you over and tasting you right there y’know.”

Your eyes snap down to meet Satoru’s hazy, half-lidded ones. Something dark and feral shining within them. And right now, thighs wrapped around his head, you don’t think he’s ever looked happier. White locks splayed out, a fucked-out expression on his face as his tongue bullies past your folds, you could feel the slight smile curling his lips against you. 

It’s overwhelming - both his confession and the way Satoru was making out with your cunt like a man starved.

Nose-deep in your pussy, tongue alternating between its abuse on your throbbing clit and dipping in and out of your sloppy hole at a maddening pace. Mouth only speeding up ruthlessly at the way you convulse and grind involuntarily on top of him.

God, Satoru was going insane at the way your walls were sucking him up so good, clamping down with each push of his tongue. 

“Shit- made jus’ f’me. You like that, don’t you?” he growls against your cunt, voice hoarse with desire. “Like fucking my face with your pussy?”

“Oh! Ngh, yes Satoru- L-love it-”

A bruising grip on your hips, encouraging you to rock against his face. Harder. Tongue more desperate. He couldn’t get enough. Meeting your every grind, tongue lapping at your cunt so obscenely. 

Breaths ragged and hot against your cunt, drinking you in with the desperation of a man that wouldn’t mind giving up air for your essence. And it was Satoru - of course he wouldn’t mind.

Especially with the large hand snaking up your thigh, going from drawing reassuring patterns at your hips to rubbing tight, little circles on your pulsing clit. Hasty, and urgent - like he had no time to waste. “Tha’s right, my girl. Give it up for me,”

Every cell in your body is on fire, every nerve ending singing with pleasure at the way Satoru plays your body like an instrument. 

“M’close, Satoru- Hah- s’close.” you moan breathlessly, a hand tangling in his soft strands. Using it as leverage to ride Satoru’s pretty face just the way you like it.

But you didn’t have to - because Satoru seems to already know exactly what to do. Exactly how to quirk his tongue just right to brush against all your most sensitive spots. Exactly how to match the rhythm of his abuse on your clit to the way he was tonguefucking you into delirium. Exactly how to look at you with such a hungry expression that devours you almost as much as his mouth. 

“Cum f’me, sweetheart.”

Satoru didn’t even have to ask. Because you’re cumming with a strangled gasp of his name. White-hot pleasure coursing through you like lightning, body trembling as you cum all over Satoru’s pretty face. 

Hands moving your limp, boneless hips across his face, forcing you to ride out peak after peak on his red lips.

As the blood roaring in your ears bates, and you blink back your vision, the first thing you see are those familiar blue eyes gazing up at you. Holding you steady, lips brushing gentle kisses along your inner thighs. 

Oh, how beautiful he was like this.

“S-S’toru?” you mewl, still sensitive from your orgasm as Satoru shifts underneath you to sit you prettily in his lap.

“Mhm?” he nuzzles your neck.

“One more. It didn’t work.”

Oh, if you knew the only way to shut up Gojo Satoru was to say something like this then you would’ve done it a lot sooner. 

But Satoru’s stunned silence doesn’t last for long, because he grins, low and sultry, “You’re right. It didn’t work.”

The metallic clinking of a belt echoes in the stuffy chamber as Satoru hastily pushes down his pants. Cock springing free to hit his lower abs, “What a shame.”

You blink at the sheer size of him - he was going to split you in two. It was unfair, really. Water is wet. Gojo Satoru has a big dick. 

But oh was he pretty - so pretty.  Prominent veins glistening in the dim lighting, fat tip flushed your favorite shade of delicate pink, leaking furiously in between your thighs.

Gulping, you reach out to wrap your hand around his achingly hard cock. So warm and heavy in your hands. “Y-yeah, what a shame.”

Both of you watch - entranced - at the way he twitches in your grasp at the mere sound of your voice. A maddening little bump! bump! bump! against your palm as you begin pumping him slowly - so agonizingly slow. 

“Oh- Feel s’good, sweetheart.” Satoru hisses lowly as you swipe at the precum beading at this head. Thumbing teasingly under his sensitive slit, tracing delicately along his veins. 

And by God does it do something to you to see the great Gojo Satoru falling apart for you, hair tousled, lips kiss-bitten, and eyes looking at you like he wanted to positively eat you alive. It made your cunt throb so desperately, slick forming a dark wet patch on his trousers. 

Not one to be left behind, his long fingers deftly snake down to your dripping cunt. Not wasting any time before bullying his fingertips past your swollen folds, curling expertly to press down against that one spot that has your fist faltering on his cock. Hard. 

Pretty little moans left your lips at the way Satoru so easily matches your pace. Thrusting knuckle-deep into your pussy in and out - hitting that spot over and over.

“Shit, Toru- s’deep inside me. I’m- hngh-”

Satoru was in heaven, really. You were so warm and wet around both his fingers and his throbbing cock. 

Only two thoughts running through his mind right now - 1. He was right, your hands were softer and more sinfully delicious around his swollen cock. And 2. The hardest battle he’s ever fought was probably right now - at your mercy, trying not to spill all over your hands because he’d be damned if he finally scored the girl and came in two seconds.

Shit, he thinks fingers almost erratic now, he needs you to cum. Right now. 

As if sensing his urgency, your moves become more frantic, Satoru’s brows furrowing at the way you increase your pace. His hips twitch, as if trying to thrust into your fist. matching your pace as you start stroking him harder, faster. 

Ah, but alas, the great Gojo Satoru’s reputation precedes him. 

“Oh, fuck- M’gonna-” And soon enough, you’re seeing stars behind your eyes - or maybe those were tears - as you cum. Hard. 

Body moving before your mind, you’re clenching around Satoru’s fingers, grinding down so ferally as you edge him closer and closer. “C’mon, Toru. One more, right?” you whisper brokenly, lips ghosting his ear.

Breath coming in short, strained gasps of what sounded like your name now, “Oh- fuck ngh- so close.” he warns, voice hoarse. “If you keep doing that, I won’t be responsible for what happens next.”

You smirk, raising a brow, “Is that a threat, Satoru?”

Willing his fucked-out eyes open, they bore into yours as he utters, “No, ah- it’s a p-promise.”

Without warning, Satoru clasps your wrists, forcing you to stop pumping him. The disappointed mewl threatening to spill from your lips is cut off just as your back hits the ground.

Slam!

You think you could almost get whiplash from how swiftly Satoru had you caged and splayed out so shamefully beneath him. 

You whine, “But you didn’t even get to-”

“Fuck, not now. Gotta feel you or else m’gonna cum so embarrassingly all over your fist.” He rests his throbbing erection laid out so enticingly across your stomach, leaking hot precum onto your skin. And that makes you shut up, eyes mapping where it ended and realizing that yeah, you might’ve faced more mercy with the curses outside of this box. “Besides. One more, right?”

And before you can respond, Satoru’s spitting on you once. Twice. Thrice.

You flinch as the wads of saliva hit your dripping cunt, mixing with your slick so obscenely as Satoru smears it across your swollen folds. Your mouth drops into a soft oh! of disbelief as he promptly pops his thumb into his mouth, groaning at the taste. 

“Shit.” Satoru hisses lowly, “One more might just not be enough.”

Not wasting a moment longer, he’s bullying his throbbing cock into your snug cunt. Head thrown back as your plush walls desperately try to accommodate his size.

“Oh. Oh shit hah- should’ve been locked up here ngh- sooner.” he groans, words straight from his cock. “Feel s’heavenly around m-me.” Because God Satoru thinks he wouldn’t even mind staying here for the rest of his life if it meant he got to have you like this.

You moan at the positively delicious stretch of your pussy, plush walls unable to decide between pushing him out and milking the soul out of him. “Hah- Toru s’too big. I can’t-” 

“You will.” he grits out, teeth clenched and brows furrowed as he focuses on letting you adjust. Pressing inch by fucking inch. Eyes rolling to the back of his head as he fights that feral part of himself that just wants to plunge into your pretty pussy till his tip kisses your cervix, and you’re drunk on nothing but his cock.

But he didn’t have to - because you’re immediately wrapping your legs around his toned waist, pulling Satoru to you recklessly until his heavy balls smack your ass. Tufts of snowy white hair - already so wet with your slick and his precum - finally meeting your cunt.

“Ah! Shit, s’full Toru.” you keen, body bowing into his.

There’s not even a hair's breadth between your bodies now as Satoru chuckles darkly. “You little minx. Thought you couldn’t handle me, but you really wanted to be split apart on my cock, huh?”

You feel almost shy under his gaze as you mumble out a quiet little, “Well you did say one more.”

Ah, Satoru thinks deliriously, if you aren’t Mrs. Gojo by the time you two get out of this then there’s seriously something wrong with him. 

But he doesn’t tell you that. Instead with a satisfied smirk, he claims your lips in a searing kiss, sucking your tongue so lewdly as he did with your cunt. Parting for only a second before pressing his lips to yours again. And again. And again, as if it hurt to part.

“Mhm. Always wanted to do this, sweetheart.” he hums against your pretty lips. “Fuck ever since you hah- walked in on that first day.” 

Kissing you sweetly with a tenderness that doesn’t translate to his hips as pulls back, back, back. All the way till his angry, hard tip was just grazing your sloppy entrance. “One more.”

Body moving before his mind, his hips start fucking into your dripping cunt recklessly. Satoru doesn’t fuck you with the finesse he imagined he would all these years, rough, harsh thrusts fueled by pure need and all the desperation from these last few years.

In one, fluid movement, the burn of the stretch hits you before the realization that Satoru has thrown your legs over his sculpted shoulders. 

“Ah- So good, Toru. Oh my god- hah-” you mewl at the change in angle. His pulsing dick expertly hitting that one spot inside you which has your words slurring together, body arching off the floor to press so impossibly close against him. 

And, well, Satoru isn’t any better - because he’s slamming his cock into you mindlessly. Hitting that spot over and over. 

With one hand, he caresses your stomach. Whispering out a ragged, “Feel me inside? Feel me right…” Pressing his palm down hard, “Here.”

The other forces you to look up at him, drinking in your whines of “Yes yes yes, can feel you s-so deep hngh- inside me, Toru.” 

You’re so cockdrunk and full of Satoru that you barely notice the hands groping their way down your body. Catching harshly on your swollen clit, starting to draw, quick, frenzied circles that match the cadence of his hips smacking into yours. 

“Look at me.” he murmurs raspily, “Open your mouth.”

And you can do nothing but take it, tongue lolling out so lewdly for the warm stream of spit that hits it. Once. Twice. 

You look up at him with teary eyes, as you take it all -  anything and everything he was giving. And it makes Satoru bow his head with a fucked-out groan, cock twitching so animalistically as it keeps plunging inside you roughly. Deft fingers on your clit becoming more desperate.

Harder. Faster. Balls squeezing so painfully. Like a lamb to slaughter, he was going to eat you up - and you were going to let thim.

You squeal at the overstimulation, hips bucking up for more more more-

“God, sweetheart, you don’t know what you do to me.” he moans, voice strained with desire and the euphoria of getting everything he’s wanted for so long. It was driving him insane. “Now c’mon. One more. Give me one more like my good girl.”

“Hngh- yes- Toru!”

You don’t even know what “one more” means anymore - all you do know is that you’re cumming and cumming all around Satoru’s unforgiving cock. Walls fluttering so snugly, your body convulses as you cream around his cock. Nails dragging down the expanse of his sculpted back, Satoru’s name leaving your bruised lips and into the heady air like a prayer every time his tip kisses your cervix. His new favorite melody.

And that seems to be what makes him snap as well - because with a final, sloppy thrust, he’s painting your walls such a sinful white. Pumping thick, hot ropes of his cum into your quivering cunt. 

“Shit- yeah, my girl. Take it. Take it all f’me.” Satoru shudders above you, head thrown back, chest heaving as he fucks you through your high. Movements nothing more than shallow, mindless little thrusts to get you both off so animalistically. 

It was so fucking filthy - and exactly what you needed so badly. He was exactly what you needed so badly. 

Now, Satoru only had to take one look as you use him so obscenely for your pleasure - eyes dazed, drool trickling down the corner of your mouth - before he thinks he might just cum again. And again. And again until he physically couldn’t anymore.

But first…

Pulling out of your heavenly pussy with a lewd pop! His long fingers delicately collects the mixture of slick and cum now gushing out of you obscenely. 

Aw, what a waste, Satoru muses as it pools below you sinfully. If it was up to him he wouldn’t waste a single drop from your pretty cunt. 

But no matter. 

Abruptly, Satoru bullies two fingers into your mouth - forcing you to taste yourself, to taste him. Pressing right at the back of your tongue in a way that has you choking and gagging around him, teary eyes just begging up at him. Perfect - you were so perfect for him. 

Kissing your forehead with a tenderness that doesn’t match his actions, he hums, faux innocence lacing his words, “What a shame, the box didn’t open yet.”

And oh does he love the excitement lighting up your exhausted eyes. Pretty thighs twitching underneath him as a slow, fucked-out little smile curls your lips. 

“One more? Please?”

A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.

[justauthoring]

Taste of Freedom

Request: Heyyy can we get a Luffy x ready (or literally any one piece character) fic where Y/n is royalty/from a noble family and gets betrothed or is like the next of kin. Girly ends up getting cold feet, runs away and after meeting the straw hats and having a little excursion with them (or something of the sort) she’s debating whether she wants to stay with them or go back. At first she goes back to honor her family/for her people/fulfill whatever duty she has and amidst her short absence Luffy comes to terms with his feeling and essentially gets his girl back, kidnapping her/crashing her wedding and she becomes a permanent member of their crew and they live happily ever after type beat Requested by: Anonymous

Pairing: Monkey D. Luffy x F!Reader

A/N: Maybe this blog will become a Luffy fan blog... Literally every request I received since my last One Piece fanfic has been Luffy (lets be clear I'm not complaining lmao). So, here's another Luffy fic as a result lol :)

Also! Please keep in mind that I'm only on episode 279 of One Piece and I am making my way through the series. So if you request something that has to do with later episodes, just be patient with me!

Word Count: 3,829 (Also, not spell-checked... lol)

The skirt of your dress weighed heavily in your hands.

Your dresses were always heavy. Dressed in the finest silks, with petticoasts and corsets and lines and lines of fabric draped over you. Everything was heavy. Adorned in jewels and intricate hair designs. You were never, ever allowed to not look your best.

But everything felt heavier today.

The weight you've always been able to bear. Mainly because you had no choise to otherwise. But it was too much for you; standing in that room, surrounded by people you didn't know... staring up at the eyes of a man twenty years your senior.

A man you were meant to marry.

Needless to say, you couldn't do it. You just couldn't.

In the midst of the wedding, you'd gotten cold feet. You'd ripped your hands from the man, and only because you'd surprised everyone, had managed to flee the ceremony.

Not unscathed however, becuase you were currently be chased across the harbour by your family's and the man you were marrying's family.

You'd lost your heels somewhere along the way. Kicking them off because they hurt and inhibited how well you could run. You'd ripped off a bit of your skirt to lessen the weight. And you'd been running for so long. Your feet ached, you're sure the soles of your feet had been torn apart by the ground beneath you.

Everything hurt. You were tired, exhausted and you just needed to get away.

You needed one ship--one ship to take pity on you.

Inhaling sharply, your face twists in panic when you realize the knights are growing closer. You were getting to the end of your wits and the chance for an escape was slipping through your fingers by the second.

If you didn't find a ship to get away on and soon, you'd be dragged back to the wedding. And this time, there would be no escaping.

Slowing to a stop, you twist your head, spinning round to try and find someone who looks like they'd be willing to take a stray on their ship. Especially one that was currently being hunted down by the islands guards.

Stumbling backwards on your feet, you can feel yourself hyperventilating, breath quickening. You knew that if you were caught, you could only imagine how much trouble you'd be in. And your fiance? He'd seemed nice enough, at least... somewhat. But you figure he wouldn't at all be impressed that his bride-to-be ran away.

You continue shuffling backwards on your feet, skin coated with sweat, when you feel yourself bump into something.

It causes you to jump, fearing it's a knight or maybe even in your fiance, body spinning around in panic. Only, it isn't a knight or your fiance. It's a boy with a bright red jacket and a straw hat on his head. There's also a large piece of meat in his mouth that he swallows in two seconds in front of you.

You blink back at him.

"You okay?"

It takes you half a second to realize that the boy's asked you a question. You blink, again, heart still pounding and still breathless and then, feeling utterly hopeless, you shake your head;

"No."

The boys face twists, wiping the crumbs from his meat off his face as a concerned expression falls on his face. You're stunned by the genuine look of worry, from a stranger no less.

"What's--"

"There she is!"

Body freezing, your head snaps round, seeing that the guards were close; extremely close.

Knowing this is probably your last chance, you turn back around to the boy, grabbing his hand with both of your own and meet his gaze. "Please," you breathe, "help me."

He glances at you, then past you at the guards that are growing closer and closer by the second. Whatever conclusion he comes to about why the guards are chasing you, you don't know. It doesn't matter either because the brightest smile curls onto the boys lips and he shifts your hands so now he's holding onto you.

"Okay!"

He tugs you with him, nearly sweeping your feet beneath you as you scramble to catch up with his pace.

But you barely have time to care about that. In a few seconds, a ship comes into your few and Luffy is bounding towards it without any hesitation.

"What--"

"You need to get away, yeah?" The boy asks you, grinning back at you. Slowly, you nod. "Okay, then... come with us!"

You're on the ship deck in the next few minutes, staring at a group of people who stare back at you with bewildered expressions. The boy, still grinning ear to ear, greets his friends as if nothing is amiss, asking if there's any food to eat.

"Luffy," one of them calls, a girl with short red hair. "Who is that?"

"Oh!" Luffy calls, spinning around to face you. "This is..." His face falls, blinking. "What's your name?"

"...Y/N." You answer, still bewildered.

"And why is she on our ship?" Another boy with a long nose asks.

"Who cares!" Another one asks, a blond man with heart yes who comes bounding towards you. He takes your hand in yours and presses a kiss to it. "You're absolutely beautiful, Y/N-chan."

Your cheeks warm, embarrassed and still bewildered.

"She's joining our crew!" Luffy cheers, pumping his fist in the air.

Your face twists, lips parting. "Oh, um... No... I just need to--"

"Where did she go!"

"I think she went over here!"

"We can't let her get off the island."

Whatever you'd been about to say is needless in that moment as muffled calls of panic from the guards swarming the harbor are loud and clear to the rest of the crew in that moment.

All of their eyes shift back to you, blinking.

"They're after you?" The black-haired woman asks you, voice soft.

You nod, nervous.

There's a beat of silence and you're not sure if, despite Luffy's nonchalance, they might ask you to get off. You're even about to fall to your knees and start begging, but before you can, Luffy speaks up.

"We should probably go," he says through a mouthful of food. "Before they realize Y/N's here."

Everyone turns to look at him, and then, the man with green-hair and three swords who'd been standing further back steps forward, a smirk on his lips as he turns to the crew.

"Captain's orders, right guys?"

Your eyes widen when you realize he means Luffy.

Everyone starts moving, perfectly in sync as they get the ship ready to go.

"Are you hurt anywhere?"

Glancing down at the voice, you blink at the... reindeer staring up at you.

-

Taking a sip of the tea Sanji, the blond who'd called you beautiful, prepared for you, you try not to squirm at the intense pair of eyes staring at you.

Luffy, who'd followed you down the kitchen after Nami, the red-haired girl, and Robin, the black-haired woman, got you a change of clothes, hadn't stopped staring at you since you sat down. Sanji was preparing you a plate of food while Nami sat next to you, asking you questions about what had happened.

The rest of the crew was in the kitchen, sans Zoro was keeping a lookout on deck.

Chopper, the reindeer who'd talked to you, had looked you over for any injuries despite your assurance that you were fine. He was only satisfied once he'd confirmed it for yourself.

"And they wanted you to marry him?"

Nodding, you pull your gaze away from Luffy. "Yeah," you whisper, glancing down at your tea cup with a frown. "I just... I couldn't go through with it."

"Well, obviously," Nami breathes from beside you. "I couldn't imagine being married off to a man twenty years older than me."

Eyes widening, you turn to Nami in shock.

"It's a good thing you found our captain, huh?" Robin smiles down at you, stepping towards you. "You're safe with us."

"I'll keep you safe, Y/N-chan!" Sanji calls from the kitchen.

When you look to Chopper and Usopp, the smiles on their faces are just as warm and reassuring.

Something flutters in your chest.

"Thank you," you breathe, a weight fading from your shoulders. "Seriously... I... I just--thank you so much."

Leaning into you, Nami grins; "it'll be nice to have another girl on board! Right, Robin?"

The older woman nods; "of course."

"Y/N!" Chopper calls, pulling your eyes down on him as he bounds up at you. "You can come to me if you ever feel under the weather."

His eagerness pulls a gentle smile to your lips, eyes softening down at him. "Thank you, Chopper."

"Luffy."

Turning away from Chopper at Nami's voice, you turn towards her, before shifting your gaze to Luffy, who is still just staring at you.

"Luffy!" Nami calls, face twisting as she reaches forwad to bop Luffy on the head. He jumps in response, blinking.

"Ow!" He calls, holding the offended spot with a frown. "What was that for?"

"Stop staring at Y/N!"

Your cheeks warm at her blatant call out, squirming in your seat as Luffy pouts at her.

"I was just looking!"

"And it's weird!"

"Nami," you call, reaching out for her. "It's... It's okay." Then, turning to Luffy, you smile at him. "Thank you for letting me on the ship, Luffy. I really appreciate it. And I promise I won't stick around too long."

You expect him to return the smile with that bright grin you're used to seeing him on your face at this point, but he never does.

"You can stay as long as you need."

-

It's been a few weeks since you've joined the Straw Hat crew on the Going Merry and it was needless to say you loved every moment of it.

Beyond just the freedom you're experiencing that you never have before this moment, everyone on the crew was so incredibly kind. It was such a different experience to be with people who actually cared about you as a person outside of your statuse.

It was nice to actually have friends.

Though, you'd be lying if you were to say there wasn't a certain someone who didn't make you feel more special than the rest.

"Y/N!"

Looking up from the book Robin had let you borrow, a smile curls on your lips when you see Luffy bounding over to you. He reaches you in seconds as per usual due to his rubber body, almost barreling into you as you lean back.

When he lands, his face is inches from yours and you desperately try to ignore the race of your heart.

"Luffy," you greet, trying to keep your voice steady. "Is everything okay?"

"Perfect!" He cheers, effortlessly energetic like he always is. "But I have a question for you!"

Tabbing your spot in your book, you set it aside. "Yeah?"

"What are you doing?"

You let out a sharp laugh. "Reading," you explain, despite the obvious. "Did you need something?"

"Yeah," Luffy nods, eager. "I don't want you to read anymore."

"Oh?"

"Come fish with me instead!"

For further emphasis, Luffy's hand wraps around your wrist, tugging.

"Okay," you submit, knowing that Luffy wouldn't have needed to even plea with you. You'd let him drag you anywhere. "I'll fish with you."

Luffy's eyes sparkle. "Really?"

"Really."

-

"Watch out!"

Barring your arms in front of you, you brace for the hit you expect to feel, only to feel nothing happen.

A moment passes by before you slowly let your arms drop, confused, only to see a familiar back of red in front of you.

"Luffy!"

Luffy, who took the hit from the bad guy for you, glances back at you with a wide, effortless grin. The sight makes your stomach erupt in a flutter of butterflies, heart racing.

"Are you okay?"

Numbly, you nod.

"Stay back," he says, voice warm. "I'll keep you safe."

-

"You can have the rest."

Head resting in the palm of your hand, the smile on your lips is soft and completely lovesick (not that you're aware) as you push your plate towards Luffy.

Mouth full of his own dinner, Luffy's eyes sparkle.

"Really?"

You nod, voice a warm hum; "I'm not hungry."

In seconds he's shoveling your food onto his plate, beaming.

"Thank you, Y/N/N!"

-

"So..."

Raising a brow at Nami, you tilt your head; "so?"

She glances at Robin who's standing next to her, both of them grinning like they know something you don't.

"Anything you want to tell us?" Nami asks, smirking as she crosses her arms over her chest.

You blink at her, then Robin, before shaking your head; "I don't think so?"

The two look at each other.

"Maybe something about our dear captain?" Robin suggests.

Your face twists; "no?"

The two chuckle, shaking their heads and you feel thoroughly confused.

"Okay, if you're sure."

"No, wait," you call, moving to stand when they shift towards the door. "What are you guys talking about?"

Robin sets a hand on your arm, squeezing reassuringly. "It's best to let you figure this one out on your own."

-

You let the cool night breeze brush through your hair, enjoying the feeling of it.

The freeing feeling of it.

A moment later a pair of footsteps bound up behind you, pulling your eyes off of the night sky and behind you, seeing Luffy.

"Hey," you call gently. "What are you doing up?"

"Couldn't sleep," Luffy shrugs, oddly quiet compared to his usual loudness. "Didn't like you up here alone."

You snort. "Usopp is up on the crows nest," you remind.

Luffy shakes his head. "Not the same."

He moves to stand next to you, his arm brushing against your own. The touch sends shivers down your spin, and you quickly avert your gaze in front of you.

"Are you happy?"

It's not the question you're expecting. With a frown, you shake your head at Luffy. "Of course," you say earnestly. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"I just wanted to make sure," Luffy shrugs. "I... I don't want you to leave."

"Oh," you breathe.

"Yeah."

"Okay," you find yourself saying. "I won't leave then."

Luffy turns to look at you and his expression is vulnerable in a way you've never seen.

"Okay."

-

The Straw Hats had docked at a new island.

Usopp and Luffy had all but bounded off the second you'd docked, Chopper not far behind. Robin and Nami told you they were going to do some shopping but you declined their invite to join, wanting to rest on the ship.

Sanji was gettin groceries and Zoro was napping on the ship as usual.

An hour into just reading, you decide you're thoroughly bored and regret declining the girls invitation to join them. You take a look at Zoro, knowing he wouldn't be happy if you woke him up, so you figure it shouldn't be too hard to find at least one of your friends.

You make your way off the ship, leisurely walking through the town and taking in the sights. It never failed to take your breath away when you docked on a new island and you got to see firsthand all the new sights you never would've before.

After wandering for about twenty minutes, you think you catch sight of Sanji's familiar blonde hair, turning to follow after him. Your lips part to call out for him, but you quickly stop yourself when you catch sight of something else.

Or someone else.

Everything in you freezes, muscles tensing as your heart starts with panic.

That's your fiance.

Breath hitching, you try to move, intending to turn back the way you came before your fiance catches sight of you. But just as you have the thought to do so, you lock eyes with him.

He recognizes you instantly.

The second he moves towards you, you stumble back, moving to run away. You make it a total of five steps before a hand latches around your wrist, tight and painful.

"There you are."

In seconds, there's guards flanking around you, effectively blocking off any escape.

"Your family's been looking everywhere for you," your fiance hisses. "How dare you embarrass me."

-

Luffy comes bounding onto the Going Merry with a wide grin.

He'd found something cool on the island he wanted to show you and refused to explore any further until he brought you there. Chopper and Usopp had gone on ahead, but he'd told them he was going back to get you.

Only, you're no where to be found.

"Zoro!" Luffy calls, voice loud and pitching as he races over to his first mate. "Zoro! Zoro!"

The swordsman face twists in annoyance, eyes blinking open to stare up at his captain with a frown.

"What?"

"Where's Y/N?"

"How should I know?"

Luffy huffs; "she stayed back with you."

"And I've been napping." Zoro grunts.

Frowning, Luffy turns, instending to race down to the kitchen and see if you're maybe there. But before he can make it to the door, he hears footsteps rushing towards the boat.

He straightens out, thinking it's Y/N but when he reaches the end of the ship, he sees Nami and Robin and no Y/N.

And they look concerned.

"Luffy!"

"What?" Luffy calls, "what happened? Where's Y/N?"

"She's... She's--"

"We saw a man and a bunch of nights dragging her onto a ship," Robin explains when Nami can't. "She was crying."

-

"You're an utter embarrassment!"

Head bowed, your nails digging into the palms of your hand as your mother continues to scream at you, voice blaring. Your cheek still stings from the slap she'd given you the second you entered the room.

"I cannot believe you would ruin tarnesh our reputation like that," your mother roars down at you. "Running away in the middle of your wedding? How dare you!"

Swallowing thickly, you inhale sharply; "I'm... I'm sorry, mother."

"You will be."

You hear her heels click away and slowly, you raise your head to watch you. She moves towards the door to your bedroom, opening it before she turns back to you.

"You will not be leaving this room until your wedding tomorrow." She bites out at you, "be grateful your fiance is still willing to marry you after all you've put him through."

The door slams shut behind her.

It takes a moment before the tears fall, a sob breaking past your lips as you fall to a heap on the ground. Your heart aches painfully at the thought of how quickly things had gone wrong.

The second your fiance had found you you'd known that any freedom you'd found for yourself was gone. There would be no escape now. You'd known that if you were ever taken back, you'd never get away again.

And now, after tomorrow, you'd be married.

Luffy appears in your mind, and you think back to that night you promised him you'd never leave. You'd meant it then, even though your chest had twisted at the words. You didn't want to leave. You'd have spent the rest of your life with the Straw Hat crew and Luffy if you could've.

But deep down you'd known you'd never truly escape your fate.

"I'm sorry," you cry, knowing Luffy can't hear you. "I'm so sorry."

-

The stares are piercing.

Everyone's watching and this time, measurements have been put in place to make sure you can't run away like you had the last.

The wedding dress feels more like your own personal prison than anything else in that moment. You're miserable and you refuse to pretend otherwise. Your mother had hounded into you that morning that you were to be on your best behaviour and well you wouldn't fight them, you certainly weren't going to act like you were happy about any of this.

You drone out the sound of your fiance signing your life away. You refuse to look at him.

Your eyes stare holes into your own feet, trying to ignore the panic coarsing through your body.

It was even worst than the last. You'd had a taste of what real freedom felt like and for it to be so cruelly taken away from you felt like your own personal hell.

"Y/N."

You're tugged, the tone of your fiance's voice sharp as you blink out of your own thoughts. He's glaring down at you and the officiator is staring at you impatiently.

Oh. It was your turn to say 'I do'.

Inhaling sharply, your lips part, voice a tremble as you try to force the words out.

Except, you never get the chance. In the next second, the door to the room busts open with a loud bang, breaking off the hinges and shattering into the crowd of people who shriek in response.

Your fiances hands leave yours as he stumbles back in fear.

But you just continue to stare at the entrance, waiting for the dust to clear because something akin to hope is blooming in your chest.

Sure enough, as the dust clears, you see a familiar straw hat.

"Y/N! Where are you!"

Your face breaks out into a grin, the brightest you've ever smiled. You're gathering your skirts in your hands, moving to run down the steps and bound over to Luffy.

Your fiance grabs your arm before you can.

"You're not going--"

Without a second of hesitation, you swing your fist back and drive it right into his face. Exactly like the Straw Hat crew had taught you.

He tumbles to the ground with a panic cry of pain, and you laugh.

Actually laugh.

Not wasting anymore time, you make your way down the stairs, weaving your way through the dispersing and panicked crowd. You see your mother along the way and she's yelling at you to come with her, but you ignore her.

Nothing else matters more than reaching Luffy.

He's delivering a sharp set of kicks at a guard when you reach him, breathless.

"Luffy."

He halts at the sound of you, tossing the guard to the side as he grins at you.

"Y/N/N!" He cheers, "we've come to kidnap you!"

Letting out a laugh, you shake your head. A newfound determination settles in you and you close the distance between the two of you in seconds flat, grabbing him by the cheeks and press your lips against his.

He stills in front of you, and when you pull back, his blinking at you wide-eyed.

Before he lets out a sharp laugh; "do that again!"

You just giggle, shaking your head. "We should focus on escaping first, no?"

"Oh," Luffy blinks, "you're right."

He grabs you, wrapping his arms around your waist and picks you up, hefting you over his shoulder as you laugh. Luffy despite everything is careful as he carries you, turning to the rest of the crew that watches with bemused expressions.

"Princess captured! Let's go, guys!"

[thelov3lybookworm]

Journals (part 2)

Part 1

Summary: new realisations and hauntingly beautiful words

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 2059

Warnings: heavyyyy angst, mental health issues, depression, feeling unworthy of love, panic attack, self harm (alluded to), self hate. thats all i can think of right now, but let me know if i need to add anything

A/n: based on old poetry by @garden-of-runar 🤭i had reblogged them to my drafts on a side blog that i dont use at all, so i couldnt reblog them on my main, but i have put them in the fic, so ig that works🤷🏻‍♀️ also, if i ever write a part 3 (which i might based on feedback) azzie would be the love interest <3

ALSO MY GIRLIE IS SO TALENTED DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED I LOVE THESE POEMS 🥹

(im also tagging people who asked for a part two hope u dont mind <3)

anyways, enjoyyyy!!

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Lying on the ground, despite how it hurt her joints sometimes, was one of Y/n’s favourite pastimes. Maybe because sometimes she did not have the energy to crawl into her bed, but that was not the point.

They hate you.

The hardness of the wood panels was oddly comforting, the way the grains sometimes raised enough for her to feel them with her fingers, the soft creaking when she stepped on them. It reminded her that she was here, that she was alive. That she was getting what she deserved for being so pathetic.

The soft mattress did not give her the same level of comfort. Sure, it was warm and cozy, but did she deserve it?

No.

You deserve this.

You deserve the worst.

Y/n sniffled, lying on her side as she lifted her hand higher next to her, dragging her nails down the planks, the feeling overwhelming in itself but better than not feeling anything. She watched her fingers jerk with the motion, pale and bloodless.

She could feel her tears collecting in a pool and seeping under her cheek. She glanced at the foot of the bed in front of her.

It looks so majestic from down here.

Do people who are worse off think the same way about me?

I don’t want them to. Because I am not worth being thought of like that.

I am nothing. I am pathetic.

It became harder and harder to take in a breath from her nose, as it continued to grow clogged from all her sobbing.

It was one of her least favourite things about crying.

Pathetic.

Stop it!

You’re pathetic. Crying over nothing.

You don’t deserve anything good.

The thoughts kept echoing in her head, louder and louder. She couldn’t breathe any longer.

And it was not because of anything physical.

Her chest began to constrict, forcing her lungs to let out precious air. She tried to breathe it back in, desperately wishing to cling to any remnants of oxygen like a child clinging to its mothers skirts.

Please. Just one inhale.

Her throat tightened.

Just one.

She gasped, futilely trying to breathe one last time to breathe before she knew she would collapse, faint because of the lack of air in her body. It gave her some reprieve, and her eyes focused back to the bed.

The longer she stared at it, the more drowsy she became. Her eyelids were drooping, and she finally, finally decided that maybe letting herself submit to her body’s needs wouldn’t be too bad, if it meant that the thoughts would stop. Maybe if she gave in to the tiredness in her bones after hours of sobbing, her mind would stop being so cruel.

Maybe it would take pity on her.

Maybe.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

"We should go out tomorrow!"

Y/n smiled a little. A rare smile that only recently had begun showing on her face.

It wouldn’t be considered a real smile. But it was still there on her face. The tilt of her lips.

We. Not me. We.

They wanted her to be present too.

Cassian jumped up, looking at Y/n with a grin. "I always wanted to take Y/n out to Rita’s."

Her smile grew.

The other members talked, making plans for tomorrow. Slowly, the conversation spiralled, as it always did between them all.

Azriel leaned close to Y/n, whispering jokes in her ear that made her giggle. Rhysand sat on the same couch as Cassian, fighting like children. Mor sat next to Amren, amusement shining in her eyes as she added fuel to the fire, while Amren looked like she’d rather be anywhere but here.

They talked well into the night, politics, food, court gossip bleeding into one another as the time trickled by.

But the moment the conversations wandered into their future, Y/n’s smile faded. She wondered, would they want her to stay in their life?

She didn’t have to wonder long, as the words they uttered were enough to give her peace.

They talked of vacations, of parties and new traditions. Of getting married, of being with their partners. Of celebrating lives and years and months, of celebrating ends and new beginnings.

They talked, and included her.

They talked in ‘we’s’. Not in ‘me’s’.

And that was enough for her little heart to be happy.

For it to heal, for the blood to return to her face.

For her to smile, free and unbidden.

But then, time passed. And just like the sand in an hourglass trickles away, so do all good things.

As she watched, the scene changed from only housing six people in the living room, to adding three more members. And slowly, she was pushed out.

And they began talking in ‘me’s’.

Some ‘we’s’, but it never meant Y/n.

No, it meant them. Them and their partners.

It meant Feyre and Rhysand. Their new lives and baby.

It meant Cassian and Nesta. Their new mating bond and blooming love.

It meant Azriel and Elain. Their growing infatuation.

Y/n doubted the infatuation had ended, as Azriel no longer sat next to Elain at dinners. Lucien’s visits to Velaris had increased too.

But everyone’s visits to Y/n and their thoughts about her had decreased. No one seemed to remember her existence.

And she deserved it.

They chatted among themselves, and the armchair she sat on vanished from under her, leaving her standing knee deep in the freezing snow. Watching from the outside as the warm interior that had seemed so welcoming just a moment ago turned into a nightmare.

Her worst nightmare.

It left her whimpering, leaving her to curl on the cold ground.

All alone, just like she deserved.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

It was almost sunset, and finally, Rhysand had built up the determination to read the damned journal.

He walked downstairs, peering into the living room before stepping in front of it.

Mor had departed after Y/n had left, tears in her eyes. Azriel and Cassian had been sitting in the living room for the whole two hours since then, staring into space, looking haunted and horrified at the way they hadn’t realised what was going on with their friend. Amren too, sat in an armchair in the corner, looking as unbothered as ever. But Rhys saw the cracks. The shifting eyes, the too hard hold on the book she held in her lap, the downward tilt of her lips more pronounced.

"I think it’s time we read the journal."

Four sets of eyes shot up to his figure.

"Are you sure, Rhys?" Cassian mumbled, standing up uncertainly.

Rhys nodded. "It is the only option we have."

Azriel sighed, mirroring Cassian’s movements and moving closer to Rhysand.

Feyre perked up. "What is going on Rhys?"

He clenched his jaw, guilt and regret festering in his gut. He had been so busy in his newfound happiness, so wound up in enjoying every moment with his mate that he had forgotten family. He had forgotten her to the extent his mate didn’t even know what the slight tang of copper in the air meant.

"Nothing, Feyre." He mumbled, turning away.

"Elain was asking-"

"Tell her to stop asking, then." Rhysand froze at the coldness in Azriel’s voice, his eyes going wide. Azriel never used that tone of voice with anyone outside of work, let alone Feyre.

Feyre stepped back, her calves hitting the couch as she stared at her friend in shock. "Az?"

Azriel pushed past Rhysand, making his way towards his study where the journal sat, looking as frustrated and unapologetic as ever.

After a shared glance, Rhysand and Cassian followed, Amren hot on their heels.

Azriel was already seated in one of the chairs at Rhysand’s mahogany desk, his eyes fixed on the journal that lay in the middle, his jaw clenched. He seemed to be the most affected, and Rhys only had the faintest idea why.

The four of them sat in waiting until Mor finally arrived, shutting the door behind her. Her eyes were bloodshot, and she sniffled lightly as she came to stand next to Cassian.

"Rhys, do we really have to read it? It will be an invasion of privacy."

Rhys swallowed. Thought it over. "We don’t really have a choice, do we? We need to figure out the root of this. She won’t tell us if we ask, we know that. Plus, she might already be way down the path of another breakdown after what happened today."

"That is why I think that instead of sitting around on our arses," Azriel ground out, "we should go and check up on her."

Rhys raised a brow, though concern festered in his gut. "Azriel, we’ve been through this before. She will feel worse about herself, thinking she inconvenienced us."

A muscle feathered in Azriel’s jaw, but he said nothing.

And so they began reading.

Rhysand opened a random page, his breath catching at the sudden tang of copper, and began reading. As he stared at the words before speaking them aloud, he remembered seeing the exact poem in a book he recommended to Y/n over fifty years ago.

Forgotten.That is my nameThat is the path I walkIt has been so longI don’t remember what it is like to be seenAnd I spill, my tears lining the path to the woods where my body lies,Forgotten.- from GardenofRunar

Instantly, Rhysand’s blood ran cold. He leaned back, exhaling. The pages were decorated in flowers and hearts, tiny little clouds and doodles in the margins so at odds with the thoughts spilled onto them like a hauntingly beautiful scenery.

At this point, Cassian and the others had moved to peer over Rhys’s shoulder. Rhys watched as Cassan reached over to turn the page with a shaky hand, pulling it back almost instantly as if the page had burned him. There, just above the words was a small handful of doodles, and he knew the small figures resembled the inner circle before Rhys had been taken under the mountain.

The poem was more a letter than anything, except it contained so few letters but thy hit everyone with a guilt so hard it was almost like a mountain fell onto them.

So like Y/n, to say so less yet still make an impact.

I didn’t forget about you.Can you say the same for me?Don’t bother.I know the answer.-GardenOfRunar

Under the poem, were a few words.

The poet is so talented. Every poem of them I read, it makes me want to sob.Maybe because I relate to these. Maybe that’s why.

Quiet sniffles came from Mor, but Rhys turned another page. It was the first page where blood began dotting the corners, a few drops on the center of the page veining out towards the edges, as if trying to exit but being unable to.

The almost poeticness of the sight was not lost on them. The blood droplets were almost like Y/n, trying to escape a cruel mind but unable to.

My friends are living lives, and I’m trudging through a million little days,Wasting away.- GardenofRunar

A hand snaked towards the book, slamming it shut. Rhysand jumped, his eyes flying to the owner of the scarred hand that appeared.

"Enough." His voice was still, quiet, but so cold it could freeze even the summer court over. And Rhysand knew. He was blaming himself for not paying attention to Y/n.

Rhys nodded, feeling guiltier by the second.

Everyone went back to their places, sitting in silence. Contemplating.

Wondering how they had become so oblivious to the point that they couldn’t see what was right in front of them the entire time.

The regret, the sadness was heavy in the air. It was getting hard to breathe it in.

Finally, Azriel stood, grabbing the book.

Then he turned, and walked out the door without a word, his wings pulled tight against his back.

And Rhysand wondered again.

Was this just some friendly concern, some self blame, or something else entirely?

Needless to say, suspicion took root. But guilt and hate overwhelmed it once more, and the family was left to sit and roil in it.

To wonder, how could they have been so busy that they ignored such an important part of them?

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

(ps. the first part in the memories/dreams Y/n has is based off this poem

You talk in ‘we’s’ Not ‘me’s’ And it heals my heart, just a little. Puts a smile on my face, just a little. You talk about a future One with me in it And I feel the color Return to my face. Just a little. - Runar

)

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[palettepainter]

To Love and Be Loved

@muletia merformers content grabbed my artblock by the throat and launched it into space. This AU is driving me crazy

I've never been the type to be consistent with AU's when making them just cuz I'm really bad at posting frequently for them, or I loose interest in continuing them, so I've only ever been invested in a few AU's online. Merformers?? I don't know WHAT it is about this concept, but it scratches an itch in my brain, so I wrote a drabble based off a scenario muletia's answered on their blog!

I'm still fairly new to character x reader content soooo please be nice,,,I actually had a lot of fun writing this, might write more! Sorry for any spelling/grammar errors

The AU belongs to muletia. I tried not to go into too much detail concerning readers appearance, but for backstory sake I made them a fisherman

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sunlight burns behind your eyelids, even when you stubbornly clamp them tighter with a whine. You would have thrown your arm over your face to block it entirely, if everything didn’t feel like it weighed triple what it was, and if everything didn’t ache

A curious, painful numbness weighed heavily in every limb, as if your very bones themselves had turned to cement blocks. You whine again, attempting with what little reserve of energy you possessed to move

You didn’t move much, and you know you probably didn’t look very graceful doing so, but with effort, you roll onto your side

The familiar, yet undeniably unwelcome sensation of sand sticking to the skin of your cheek pulls yet another discomforted whine from you, but the very thought of trying to manoeuvre yourself so you can wipe it off - and the following realisation of how much energy it would take to do so - you abide to lay there and sulk in your uncomfortable misery instead 

And then a crab walked sideways into your line of vision, about an inch away from your nose

A pity really, that you were stranded upon this island alone, scientists around the world would have been amazed at the speed in which you all but catapult yourself away with

That same startled movement however, causes you to instantly double over with a hiss and clutch desperately at your leg when an unexpected, angry flare of pain shoots up your limb. You suppress the urge to yelp, sucking air through your clenched teeth, it’s only after a few seconds that your eyes start to mist up pathetically, and you have to blink in a futile attempt to restore your vision 

‘What the hell?!-’

You don’t care to glance up to see if the crab has retreated, or rub your face into your shoulder to brush off the sand that you can feel is still stubbornly glueing itself to your skin, everything else was distant, unimportant: the concern for why you were in such unexpected, such worrying pain, greatly outweighed anything else 

Thanks to your clumsy flurry to get away from the crab you are at least partially sitting, so you have an easy view of your left leg from where the pain was originating from

At a glance, you are doused in immediate relief when you see your leg clearly isn’t broken. To confirm the theory, you give the limb an experimental roll and bend the knee. It was sore, but not totally painful. You practically deflate like a balloon, hand covering your heart, a broken leg would be just your luck 

You can also see no visible sign of blood, which is promising

You’re no medical experiment by any means, but getting an open wound on a island you still have no idea how to truly navigate or live off of and contracting something, or having it become infected, is really not something you want to worry about

Still, if there is no sign of blood and there is no apparent bone sticking out at an awkward angle, then maybe you pulled something?? 

Leaving the unexplained pain only to have it come back and bite you later for not trying to soothe it is out of the question, so you reach down to peel back your absolutely sodden trousers

They’re as soaked as they are uncomfortable, exposing your cold skin to the merciless open air that has goosebumps prickling your skin in nanoseconds. Despite the clothing on the rest of your body, you feel the wind's icy hand invade up the back of your shirt and scratch at your spine, the hairs on your neck standing on end

You force yourself to ignore it, hiking your trouser further upward until it rests above your knee

There, you see your problem 

Sickly yellow swirls around the lip of your boot and up your calf, it’s as unpleasant to look at as it feels

Removing your boot only further reveals the extent of the damage: the bruise is heaviest at your ankle, the flesh swollen and sore, specks of dingy purple dotting the area above the bone which is almost completely swallowed by the swelling 

That...wasn’t good

Bracing yourself for the worst, for what you already know is going to be the case, you cradle your ankle and press oh so gently onto the tender skin. Each poke, even feather light, causes little shocks of agitation to flare through your muscles and draws a wince from you each time without fail

‘This is…really not good’

“Shit...” you mumble, because there was no other word appropriate to describe your situation

Quietly, you can silently concede that the situation could have been more dire, you would have been royally screwed if you had a broken leg. Heavy bruising was at least managable, annoying yes, but manageable

You’d survive at least, that was comforting, you really didn’t want swollen ankle and heavy bruising to be the cause of death carved on your tombstone 

All things considered, you conclude you got very, very lucky (that or some kind of deity must have been feeling particularly merciful), of all the injuries you could have sustained, not to mention literally drowning, surviving an ocean storm with a sore leg was a blessing-

Eyes snapping open, alert and awake, everything comes rushing back to you at an overwhelming pace: the storm, the rain and wind, the pathway along the coastline, the loose rock, losing your balance, falling, water - water everywhere - all around you, in your eyes, in your mouth, suffocating you

You were going to drown, you were certain that was it

You remember being pulled under, wave after wave throttling you, hurling your small, frail body under its currents, kicking and flailing. Disorientation had scrambled your brain, and the pressure constricted your ribcage, a burning sensation climbing higher in your throat and behind your eyes 

Light fading, the surface getting further and further away, you were sure you were drowning- you had been drowning! You were going to die, and yet…you’re here

Still reeling, you turn your head unhurriedly to survey your surroundings. The breeze is light and soft, just barely tussling your raggedy hair, a far cry from the ferocity of the tempest that had been set on devouring the island and its inhabitants hours ago

You were sitting on the outskirts of a lagoon, not one you recognised, you must have been washed up on an unexplored part of the island. If the circumstances which had brought you here had been anything less morbid, you think you would have found the surroundings quite peaceful

The lagoon is calm, a sanctuary held between two platforms of rock that curve around to isolate it from the rest of the sea, the only entrance in and out is a single gap in the rock formation opposite the section of beach you were resting on

Now though, in your delirious, near paralysed from fear state, the unfamiliar environment only feeds your unease

You want nothing more then to rot into the sand, to surrender to the heaviness that weighs on your shoulders and pleads for you to collapse and recharge, but if it’s the surge of adrenaline from realising you narrowly escaped sharing a handshake with the grim reaper not twenty four hours ago, or the pain in your leg the forbids you to forget it’s presence, you refuse 

Inhaling a breath to gather yourself, you swallow past the lump lodged in your throat despite how painful it is to do so, and brace your hands on the sand “Okay- Okay…easy does it. One…two…three!-” not without grunting, you manage to heave yourself onto your feet unsteadily

Okay. You’re standing. That’s good. Good.

After a thorough examination of yourself, and patting around your head to check for any bumps or dried blood, you reprocess again that you got very, very, VERY lucky!

There are no weird bumps on your head and the only thing you do feel that's out of place is the odd bit of reed caught in your hair or sand stuck on your scalp, the worst of the damage is a few new tears in your t-shirt, but none that would render it ruined (not that fashion was even in your priorities)

You sigh, if you ever get off this island you were so buying a lottery ticket

“Alright then…now for the fun part” you say dismally, casting a nervous glance down to your bruised leg

With every bit of caution one would use when stepping on cracked ice, you first take a step forward on your non injured leg. One step forward, simple. Then, you brace to carefully take the next step with your bruised one, easier said than done you think

Tenderly, you lift your foot from the miniature crater the sole of your boot had left in the sand, deciding to only move it forward a few inches before you let your boot rest again on the ground

No agitated pain came to smite you, only the general soreness persisted, which was gradually becoming tolerable now that you were up and had your bearings

‘So far so good..’

Still with care, you begin to unhurriedly shift your weight from your right foot to your left in preparation for your next step-

Pain. Just- Pain. A lot of it.

Your shriek is half muffled by the sand rushing up to greet you, where you barely manage to catch yourself on shaking arms before too much splats into your mouth. You fall, and you fall hard, and in your attempt to jerk and recorrect your balance, you only manage to infuriate your bruised leg further 

For several, uninterrupted beats, you lay there, defeated in a crater of your own making, content to do so until you shrivel up like a raisin in the sun and die.

However, it seems you’re not out of stubborn grit yet, because despite every blaring alarm in your head that begs you to not move because that was way more painful then you thought it would be!- you roll onto your back

You’re crying, both from pain, and the fact that now is simply the time to cry. You don’t bother to wipe the tears away, knowing more will just spill in their place

Every breath wheezes as you greedily inhale, one hand mindlessly rubbing at your leg in some weak attempt to alleviate some of the agony, it’s as successful as you imagined it would be

“Ow..” you whimper, your voice small and weak, like someone had stepped on it

“That…r-really hurt” you speak your thoughts aloud, because it’s better to focus on doing that then the aching sensation that you know now has rendered your leg near useless

You sniffle, attempting to steady your breathing by taking rhythmic inhales and exhales as you had done many times before, it was the only method you had that was somewhat keeping you from losing your goddamn mind

“So, walking is gunna suck..” you state, and you can feel your resolve fracturing as a particularly strong jolt of pain from your leg reinforces the statement “Maybe…I could fashion a walking stick out of a branch??” you continue to speak aloud “Maybe a splint? Finding a branch shouldn’t be too hard”

A pause settles, the only sound that drifts over to you is the sound of waves gently lapping at the edge of the rocks that surround the lagoon 

“Hm…I should get up” you don’t move

“...I shouldn’t be putting pressure on my leg if it’s hurt, but I need to find food and water” you had managed to survive living off the land and sea, though trying to catch fish and deducing what plants looked safe enough to eat was not easy

It’d be much easier if you had your fishing rod, but after more than a week of being washed up on the island without a trace of your boat or gear washing up on shore, you had come to accept the glum fate that your beloved boat and expensive gear were long gone. 

You’d never been overly fond of that boat anyway, you’d gotten it second hand for a price way too high for a vessel that had awkward steering, but if you saw that crooked old boat again you’d kiss

The only gear you had left on hand was your craft knife, which had been your saving grace when sawing through branches to construct your first shelter, gutting fish, starting a fire-....you feverishly patted your pocket

You frowned

You no longer had your knife

“UUUGH!!..”

As you begin to curse the world for your rotten luck, battling the temptation to start crying again because you know crying like a three year old isn’t going to solve your problems, much less aid you, the sound of rippling water is not lost to the sound of your own laboured breathing 

You go to turn your head to investigate the sound- only to startle upward for the second time that day when something begins rising out of the water 

With your busted leg you only managed to pitifully crawl yourself backwards and away from where the water meets the sand by your arms, eyes not once leaving the mass that steadily grows bigger as it comes upwards to the surface

Your nerves are shot, your heart is threatening to erupt from your chest, and you are in no condition to be running away from potential threats 

If the storm didn’t kill you, you’re sure whatever creature is approaching the shallows surely will

You’re going to die alone on this forsaken island and the only acknowledgement of your death will probably be years from now on some unsolved murders podcast 

If the worst is to end you then and there you don’t wish to see it, so, you throw up your arms in a measly shield, hoping that whatever creature has pulled itself up from the depths is feeling generous and puts you out of your misery swiftly 

As the moment stretches on at a painful pace, breathing hard through your nose with your head ducked into your shoulders like a terrified turtle, the sound of sloshing water draws to a sudden stop, and a pitched, single chirp breaks through the silent air 

Still, you can’t bring yourself to open your eyes and lower your arms, sitting stiff as a statue to the point your muscles start aching

You nearly jump out of your skin when a careful pressure nudges against your forearm, slick and cold from the water but warm all the same. It’s barely a sliver of a touch, almost hesitant in its precise delicacy 

Still, you don’t move. You remain locked steadily in place, terrified that if you so much as breathe incorrectly this beast will tear out your jugular 

The pressure leaves your skin, and a….pitiful churr sounds from the creature

Not threatened, not angry, not territorial, just…sad, dispirited 

An expanse of your terror that sits heavily in the centre of your chest breaks away, and further chunks begin to crumble and vanish the longer you sit there unharmed, despite knowing you are well within the range of biting distance

…You cautiously peel away your arms from your face, just enough to cast a clear glance towards your unexpected company

You hoped to gain an observing glance undetected, and yet the moment your arms have moved enough for you to see, you meet a heavy stare from a pair of electric blue eyes that sit well within your bubble of personal space

They instantly widen upon noticing your revealed face, a ghost of anticipation flooding the features of their expression as you ever so slowly continue to remove your arms from your face. The blue eyes twinkle, something elated glinting in them which further settles the anxious coil that felt like it had been constricting your windpipe

The creature sinks, or at least, you’re pretty sure they do, and you’re almost certain something like relief settles on their expression once your arms have fully lowered

The baby blue eyes are familiar, combined with a complexion composed of deep navy and ruby that cuts through your paranoia, a warm wave of relief flooding in to occupy the space it had been hogging in your chest

“Optimus!..” you breath breathlessly, almost dizzy from the drop in your stress levels that his presence brings 

The mer continues to stare at you unblinkingly, yet you’re too joyed at the discovery of the creature being only Optimus, a mer who had founded a curious, unexplained interest in you, that you don’t notice the way he practically glowed at the sound of your voice, physically perking, fins and all 

“God- you scared me for a second! I thought you-” You don’t get to finish your sentence

Strong, solid arms wrap around your middle with such speed you almost topple backwards into the sand again. His forearms alone cover the expanse of your back, his face practically covering the length of your stomach and chest, leaving you unintentionally pinned in an embrace, which on any other occasion, you would have not minded

This time however-

“Owowow-LeglegLEG!! GET OFF MY LEG-”

To his credit, Optimus doesn’t miss a beat at the sound of the evident distress in your voice, promptly tearing himself away from you with a string of worried chirps

He doesn’t whimper or give any acknowledgment to the assault of panicked slaps you had landed to the back of his head in your haste to have him remove himself, and instead his concerned eyes flicker over your body at an alarming speed 

All in all, it takes him about two seconds to process the tight lines of pain that have carved themselves into your face, the tension that hangs on your jawline, your lips which have peeled back over pearl white teeth in an obvious show of great discomfort, which pains him greatly

As you busy yourself trying to calm the roaring sensation of hot fire pain that bristles up your lower leg, Optimus’s eyes follow the line of your arms which clutch desperately at the sides of your limb, a grip which he concludes is no doubt leaving crescent moon dents in your skin

Whatever surge of delight he had felt at seeing you at last awake is instantly snuffed upon the sight of the discolouration bleeding across the skin of your calf

Once you’ve eased your breathing, blinking rapidly in an attempt to clear the tears from your eyes before they fall, do you take note of the mournful slump that has overtaken Optimus’s shoulders

He wilts into the sand, his grand fins that stretch along his back and down the length of his tail that stretches into the water behind him drooping, eyes not once lifting from your injured leg, and he lets out a lone, terribly gloomy churr 

His hand hovers, and without meaning to you tense at the prospect of someone prodding your very much newly formed, sore bruise. As miniscule as the action is, Optimus somehow still catches it, and withdraws his webbed hand from you

It’s both amazing and intriguing to see such raw emotions displayed on his face, knowing that such depictions of emotions had never been shown in illustrations of mermaids or sirens in the many safety handbooks you’d read

But when Optimus looks to you, in a way not too different from a worried companion would, and then back to your leg, do you see the display for what it is

He’s concerned 

With an expression that gradually grows more troubled the longer he flickers his gaze between your face and your leg, your expression shifts to something more gentler: “H-Hey hey, Optimus, I’m fine! It’s just a bruise”

It’s not just a bruise, the miniature version of yourself in your brain corrects, you have most definitely sprained your ankle in some capacity and not only is that going to greatly hinder your mobility, but it’s going to take more then a week to at least be semi healed, it adds

In that moment though, you decide that’s not information that Optimus needs to know, but it seems your mermaid friend does not believe you regardless when he remeets your gaze with clear doubt in his eyes.

He casts another upset look to your leg, and you watch as his fingers dig into the sad in displeasure at the sight, the fins on the side of his head that act as ears pinning downward, only further showing how troubling he finds the situation 

“Really, I’m okay!” you insist with a bat of your hand, the mermaid does not shift his focus from your leg, looking to be in deep thought if the way his brows have started to mildly scrunch together is any indication 

You’re not sure what to focus your attention on more: his clear worry for your well being, or the way he quietly contemplates something you can’t pinpoint 

Still, even with his worry, your legs are starting to grow uncomfortably numb from the cold sand beneath you, and you need to either get back to your current shelter or find some way of crafting a new one without the help of your knife. Perhaps you’d get lucky and find somewhere sheltered further inland, but you weren’t going to get any progress done sitting 

So, against what every medical professional would tell you, you stagger to your feet. 

Lightning quick, Optimus watches your movements with the sharpness of a hawk, though you feel no terror under his observant stare. You’ve known the mer for the majority of your time stranded, and have come to learn that despite what you have read, he hasn’t shown even a flicker of aggression towards you once 

At first, it unnerved you, thinking that he was trying to lull you into lowering your guard. You’d read that mermaids were scarily intelligent. But that hadn’t happened, and the fear you’d felt towards his presence had gradually faded with time 

Standing to your full height, you hope it isn’t obvious how little pressure you’re putting on your hurt leg “See? Totally fine!~” to emphasis, you flash him the biggest reassuring smile you can muster 

It’s not very effective

Optimus remains half out of the water, his upper half resting in the sand propped up by his arms until he ‘stands’ at eye level with you. His tail twitches in the water behind him, casting ripples across it’s otherwise crystal clear surface while his mouth sets into an uncertain frown 

He produces a chirp, head slightly cocked, then a few more

The language barrier does make communicating a bit difficult, but you’re fairly certain based on his expression and general feel for the sounds he just made that he doesn’t hold a lot of hope in spite of your words 

You know very well that in order to demolish whatever doubts he has for good, you’re going to have to walk, the thought alone makes you nervous, let alone the idea of acting upon it. Still, with Optimus not looking anywhere close to dropping his concern, you didn’t have much of a choice…

“Welp!” you awkwardly stuff your hands into the pockets of your trousers because you’re not sure what else to do with them “It was uh…nice to see you!” you say with a nod. In your mind there is no way your laid back, casual act comes across as convincing, yet you press on

You half turn away, and Optimus’s eyes still bore attentive holes into your form “I’ll see you later I guess..” you bid farewell, throwing in a small wave over your shoulder as you take your first step forward on your good food, and then follow with your left with more caution

Now knowing what to expect you actually manage to take a step forward without falling, albeit a wobbly one which makes you bite the inside of your cheek, but you’ll count it as a win

With a bit more ease you smile, and unconsciously, you begin the movement needed to take the next step-

Three things happen in the span of two seconds: a bolt of excruciating pain slices up your calf with all the subtleness of a snapping bear trap. A yelp rips from your throat before you have a hope of muffling it, and before you can brace to make contact with the sand, there is a rapid flurry of splashes behind you accompanied by a startled trill before something abruptly stops your fall

A soaked, webbed appendage securely supports your head, the other you can feel pressing into your stomach, holding your body up from the sand. In a potent mix of fear and utter embarrassment you dare not move as you feel a surge of heat explode across your face 

Optimus had stopped your fall

From somewhere behind you, you can clearly hear the sound of Optimus’s calculated, deep breathing, and you don’t need to crane your head back to look at him to know that his eyes are no doubt as wide as saucers. He doesn’t move, and neither do you

The very tips of his clawed fingers press just enough into the plush flesh of your covered stomach that you can feel them pinching the surface of your skin through your t-shirt, and so, you shove aside your immense mortification and force yourself to find your voice 

“Uhm…meant to do that” 

Suddenly, you’re being moved with all the grace and care one would use to handle a helpless infant. As he meticulously lowers your form to the sand, the hand on your face shifting to rest on the side of your neck do you wonder if it’s at all possible for Optimus to hear how hard your heart is thundering with his close proximity 

His hands hover and then gradually pull away from you once he is sure you are steady on the floor and not going to keel over just from sitting upright

You don’t want to look at him, scared of what expression he might be wearing and dreading the thought of him seeing your own. Your own cherry red face that you know is as obvious as it feels

You want nothing more than for a sinkhole to open up in the sand right beneath you and swallow you into darkness, but alas, that pity isn’t granted 

You can hear sand shifting behind you, most likely Optimus trying to move higher up the sand to be near you, the mer had a strange obsession with being as close to you as possible when he could. His form settles besides you in the corner of your peripheral vision, his shadow bathing you in temporary shade that only further confirms how close he is

A troubled chirp and a gentle nudge to your shoulder, followed by a puff of hot air hitting the shell of your ear caused your breathing to involuntarily still, and then, his troubled face is ducking down and moving into your field of vision 

He doesn't look angry, or disappointed, or judgemental at all, you find nothing in his gaze to feel ashamed about

He just looks worried, a worry of such caring magnitudes it renders you speechless for a moment, totally lost on how to respond, and curiously, has the temperature in your cheeks rising higher 

When you do respond, your voice is low, head still ducked as you fiddle with your fingers anxiously “Okay…maybe I’m not totally okay..”

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

It’s been a day since you woke up at the lagoon, and Optimus has been at your beck and call for that entire duration 

He rarely leaves you, which in fairness you suppose you can’t blame him for doing, given how you told him you were totally fine and then nearly face planted the floor seconds later. You try to cut him some slack, despite how overbearing he can be 

You’re certain it’s because he just wants to make sure you’re okay, but there have been times where you’ve quite literally had to swat him away with your own hand 

When he does leave, either willingly or by you demanding him to - to which you swear you can hear him whimper like a kicked puppy - it’s only ever for what feels like an hour at most (you lost your phone when you first arrived at the island, so you really had no clue how long he was actually gone for at a time), and everytime he comes back he always brings you a fish

You have a small collection of fish gathered on a palm tree leaf tucked away under a small gap in the rocks, concealed from the view of any wandering birds that may have been looking for an easy meal 

And of course, you’re grateful for Optimus’s attempts to help, but you can’t eat the fish without firewood, and you can’t gut the fish without your knife

The firewood part was an easy fix at least, and technically you could still eat the fish without gutting them first, but still, losing your only tool and means of general protection was pretty frustrating

It made you feel all the more smaller and helpless in the incredibly vast, uncharted territory you were stuck in 

Still, even without your knife and even with Optimus’s generous aid, you didn’t want to sit back helplessly while your dear friend did all the work, so, after Optimus’s form disappears beneath the surface of the water and you watch his red and blue rippled shape swim out of the lagoon, you climb to your feet

Learning that walking was a no go, you opt to instead hop on your good leg while dragging your other. Was it the most efficient means of moving around?? Not a chance. Was it a hell of a lot less painful then if you tried walking?? Absoloutly

When you reach the treeline, where the sand gradually climbs upward and becomes obscured by a layer of dried, fallen leaves and other masses of vegetation, you begin your search for a big branch to act as a walking aid

A splint probably would have been better, but given how you have no material to secure it to your leg, a walking stick will have to do. And thankfully, with the recent storm, there are a plethora of waiting branches littering the ground for you to pick from

It only takes around ten minutes of you scavenging before you come across a branch that looks decent enough, which surprises you as it does please you

With a grunt, you haul the thing up and hold it outwards to give it a once over. It wasn’t a particularly thick branch and was easy enough to hold with just one hand, it’s shape like that of a capital Y, forming the perfect perch for you to rest your arm over

The only downside you could really label was the fact it didn’t look the smoothest, but you were sure you could find a leaf somewhere and attempt to smooth it down for convenience. Though you doubted you’d even notice the pain of a splinter over your leg 

“Please don’t snap, please don’t snap, PLEASE don’t snap!..” you chant under your breath as you begin to settle the branch at your side and fold your arm over the top where it rests beneath your armpit

You stand, processing the feel, and with a final prayer, you begin to lean your weight onto the branch

It holds. Doesn’t so much as snap a creak of exertion at supporting you. Hopeful results, but you need to know for sure it’ll work

You take a step forward, then repeat with your injured leg, using the stick to carry the brunt of your weight as you use it to propel yourself forward a few inches. Again, the branch doesn’t utter a single groan of complaint 

You sigh, a small blessing of good luck 

“Firewood..” you mutter to yourself, already using your new crutch to turn back to the trees where you focus to gather as many small pieces of wood you can find to construct a fire

Though you know starting one will be no easy feat with the loss of your knife

You didn’t have the standard fishing knife when you’d first started your career, you didn’t see a need to purchase one at the time when you already had an old camping knife that could cut fishing line, cut bait, and prepare fish just as well

The thing had been sitting on your kitchen shelf for god knows how long until then, so it was nice to finally get some use out of it 

But what you really, really missed about it the most right now, was the flint fire starter it came with 

You didn’t even know it came with the feature when you’d first brought it, but man what you would give to have that knife back. Starting a fire was certainly going to be a lot more interesting without, it wouldn’t be impossible, but the difficulty had certainly amped up

And you couldn’t just simply not have a fire, it would get cold when the sun went down, and even if you hadn’t come across any dangerous predators on the land just yet, you’re not terribly keen on the idea of sitting terrified in the freezing darkness 

Plus, you’re not so desperately hungry that you’ll resort to eating raw fish yet

Starting a fire with two twigs can’t possibly be that hard

After you’ve gathered as much firewood in your arm that isn’t holding your clutch as you can do you turn and begin to hobble back down in the direction of the lagoon, where you drop your supply into a pile in the sand a little ways up from the water. 

It’s not much, you’ll definitely have to do a few more trips of gathering small sticks, but it was a start 

“Hope the tide doesn’t come too far in..” you say as you raise your eyes to the shifting mass of blue beyond the safeguard of the lagoon's edge. The thought is instantly followed up by where you’re going to sleep tonight, since you doubt you could easily craft a shelter with a busted leg and without your knife

You consider the idea of a cave, you’d seen a handful along the parts of the island you’d explored, but you hurriedly brush away the idea, probably not wise to sleep in a cave when there was a possibility of the tide coming in

“I’ll deal with that problem later” you conclude, settling yourself into the sand with your legs either side of your pile of firewood. You look at it dejectedly, bracing yourself for whatever frustration you’re about to willing subject yourself to 

“Okay!...let's give this a shot”

With a stick in each hand you begin what you are sure is going to be a laborious task that is going to eat up possibly the next few hours of your time, you don’t know, you’d never made a fire by rubbing sticks before

It's not six minutes later that your shoulders begin to cry from the repetitive motion, the ache building and building until it forces you to stop and you heave for breath, not realising you’d been holding it

There isn’t so much as a dent in your sticks, and your firewood looks no closer to being lit then it did when you gathered it 

You hang your head “Nnnngh…”

The process of rubbing your two sticks furiously together, only to then stop to grant your arms some mercy, followed by repeating the process went on for several minutes, and both your sticks and firewood continue to mock your efforts

If it’s the heat from the sun, the amount of effort you’re forcing your body to produce with rubbing the sticks, or a mix of both, but you can feel a thin veil of sweat on your forehead and an annoying heat spreading on your back where the sun hits you

No fire, no knife, no shelter, no good pair of legs because the storm had to fuck up one of them!-

“UGH!”

The frustration boils over, and in a blind moment of pure annoyance, you pick up the largest chunk of your firewood and proceed to lob it as far as you’re able to into the lagoon, just in time for Optimus to move into the calm shallows where his body breached the surface 

His delighted chirp of greeting is cut off as the twig bounced harmlessly off his head and then plonked into the water beside him. He blinked confused eyes, turning to watch the wood sink till it came to gently rest in the sand

He blinked again, then, turned back to you

Mortified is an understatement for how you feel 

“Oh my god!- I am SO so so sorry!! I-I swear I wasn’t aiming for you!! I just-” there is no possible explanation that exists on earth nor jupiter that you can conjure up to explain your childness display of annoyance, so instead you simply sigh, for what feels like the umpteenth time that day 

“I…yeah I got nothing, that was just stupid of me” you admit while rubbing the back of your neck

Though you feel your apology and flimsy excuse aren’t substantial, Optimus didn’t appear offended in the slightest, he appeared just as happy to see you as he did shortly after you had woken up

As you had come to expect, in his hand he holds a fish, one you cannot name a species too, but it is one Optimus has gifted to you before so you’re comforted with the knowledge it’s safe to eat 

‘Safe to eat when it’s cooked at least’

“Thanks buddy, can you put it with the others?” you ask, waving your stick in the general direct of the current fish hoard he’s gathered for you before you resume your fire making efforts

Optimus does as you ask without complaint, as you have learnt he often does, why he is so ready to accept your requests for literally anything you still don’t fully understand…or at least, you think you don’t

An answer had begun to trickle into the back of your mind, one which fills you with an endless, overflowing surge of anxiety that thinking about it for too long has you zoning out. Has something uncomfortable clutching your heart, a crawl racking up your spine that has you shivering

A feeling that is always accompanied by a longing yearnsome stare of adoration that feels a bit too domestic for your comfort, a tender brush of knuckles on the side of your head that easily hooks your hair behind your ear and out of your face, an action that shouldn’t make your heart rate pulse the way it does

Because being friends with someone shouldn’t come with confusing, fluffy feelings you’re too scared to unpack

“Maybe he’s just trying to be accommodating” was the excuse you’d told yourself when those unexplained little bubbly feelings began to become a bit too common for you to easily brush aside, and everytime you try to pair an explanation to his nurturing, near worshipful behaviour, you believe yourself a little less 

Even so, you refuse to let yourself believe for a second that Optimus is doing any of this because of some…crush on you

You were entirely different species! It wouldn’t be in his nature to pursue someone of a different biology. On the very rare chance he did see more than a friend in you (of which you heavily doubt), what on earth would he see in you that he wouldn’t find in another mer?? 

You couldn’t even breathe underwater for crying out loud! You had no characteristics that made you look anything remotely like a mermaid, so no, there was no way Optimus was doing any of these gestures in an attempt to impress you, to show he could be reliable, protective, loyal 

No

Optimus was your dear friend, nothing more

He needed to be with his own kind, someone like him, someone who could thrive in the water and not tie him down to navigating only the shorelines. It wouldn’t be fair to either of you, but especially him 

So no, Optimus did not have a crush on you. It made no sense for him to hold such feelings. He was intelligent, far more than yourself, surely he would see the fault in chasing after you. He was of the sea, and you the land, you weren’t compatible

Diving into those thoughts, you hadn’t even clocked how you’d fallen quiet, how your fire starting efforts had gradually slowed to a stop, leaving you to stare blankly off into the distance with an unreadable expression - but Optimus had noticed

He tilted his head, confused, assuming you were collecting your thoughts. But when a large enough space of time had passed and you still hadn’t so much as twitched, he chirped. No response 

Easily sliding closer his fins lower in worry on instinct at the way you don’t even seem to notice his presence, another concerned chirp goes unacknowledged by you. It doesn’t take him long before he decides to nudge you

You straighten, blinking hard with a shake of your head as Optimus pulls you out from the corners of your mind and plonks you back there on the sand of the lagoon

Turning, you’re ashamed at the still very present look of worry on his face, worry that you’ve caused, tilting his head like a curious dog trying to figure you out 

You give him a sheepish smile “Ah- Sorry! Spacing out” you assure, though Optimus only raises a brow at you

You don’t need to be a marine biologist to understand he doesn’t fully believe you, confirmed when he turns around and easily scoops up one of the fish from your pile and offers it to you encouragingly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he churrs a soothing purr to you

The salty waft from the fish reminds you of how hungry of you, and while Optimus’s gesture is heartwarming, you’re not eating a fish raw, thankfully, you’re not that desperate to quench the miniature ache that’s building in your stomach 

You push his hand aside with the back of your own, still smiling “Thanks buddy but, I can’t eat that” before his face can morph to unhappy you’re already explaining your reasoning 

“I need to get this fire going if I wanna cook any of them, not that that's gonna happen anytime soon, unfortunately..” you say with a huff and a not so pleased scowl down to your pile of kindling. Even with your explanation, Optimus only continued to look puzzled, and so, you resume venting your frustrations 

“Just had to loose my stupid knife in that stupid storm..” you grumble, not even trying to hide how annoyed you feel. You’re not sure if Optimus ever really understands your human speak when you try to communicate with him, but regardless, he’s an ear to listen if he can translate you or not

And man do you crave some kind of interaction, aside from when you talk to yourself to keep boredom at bay 

“I could have lost my jacket, or my own shoe, but nooo I had to lose my knife!” you reshuffle the kindling into a neater pile between your legs, brows gathered like angry thunder heads and face as welcoming as broken glass 

“As if hurting my leg wasn’t bad enough, losing my knife is just the cherry on top of the shitty sundae” just barely, you catch Optimus’s fin ears perking at that particular sentence, and a tiny voice in the back of your head snickered at the idea of him understanding what a swear word was

That same voice is quickly smothered underneath your frustrations however

“Can’t start a fire, can’t make a shelter, can’t gut fish..” you rant, the volume in your voice decreasing further and further as your own words reinforce just how helpless you’ve become with the loss of your blade

Even if you have no knowledge on how to survive being stranded, you’d managed, and your knife gave you a somewhat feeling of protection in the large, intimidating environment you’d been marooned on

A miniscule feeling of safety, gone just like that, all of a sudden you were back to the place you where when you’d first woken up on that island, and you hated it 

Silently, Optimus regards you and your curled up posture. You can’t easily curl your injured leg up to your chest, so you set on simply hugging one leg to your chest and hiding your face in your folded arms, sighing with all the tiredness and weariness in the world 

Seemed you were more tired than you thought

You can feel a building heat growing behind your eyes, and dreading the thought of crying infront of Optimus and making a fool of yourself, you refuse to look anywhere in his general direction, even when he lets out a series of soothing chirps that you know are his way of urging you to look at him 

You shift your head in your arms, turning further away from him 

“I-I’m okay Optimus, I’m okay!..” your voice sounds more watery then you would have liked, dammit 

God you were so pathetic! 

Here Optimus was, going out of his way to provide for you while you recovered, and all you can do is focus on the negatives. You have no doubt in your heart that if Optimus hadn’t chosen to be kind to you, you would be in a far dire situation, maybe even dead. You were continuously fumbling and falling, and Optimus, without fail, would always show to help you without you ever asking him to

He just would, as if doing so was as simple as breathing

Optimus truly was the best 

Attempting to compose yourself, you inhale a deep breath through your nose, chest rising as your lungs inflate to their fullest, then deflate as you exhale slowly through your mouth. When you reopen your eyes again, you feel better grounded and spare Optimus a glance, and notice how the mer has turned his focus to the water

There’s a considering detail to his face, contemplative, as if he was weighing the pros and cons of something 

Admittedly, the expression causes your grief to take a back seat as you hum curiously to yourself, wondering what thought could warrant such a heavy level of pondering 

“You good?” you ask

The only way you’re sure he heard you was the twitch in his fin on the side of his head, like the way a cat's ear would swivel to attention

He continued to study the surface of the water that glittered beneath the golden rays of sun that reflect of it, before he then turns his focus to you

The pensive quality to his face doesn’t waver, even when he temporarily looks off to the side and his brows gather by a smidge in the centre of his forehead. You try to not grow worried, you really try, whatever it is he’s thinking about you’re sure it’s nothing serious

But to see such an intense expression upon the otherwise social mer you’d come to warm up to was…concerning 

“You okay??..” you repeat your earlier inquiry, which causes Optimus to return his eyes back to you

He still looked serious, but there was something more relaxed about him, leaving you to assume that whatever debate he was having he must have come to a conclusion too. Whatever a mermaid of his size has to worry about you have zero clue, honestly you’re not entirely sure if knowing would just make you more nervous

If you wanted to know or not however, you learn that Optimus wasn’t planning to try and share

With another chirp he moved the fish into your hand, softly closing your fingers around it before you can utter a word. Then, he leaned forward until his forehead gently connected with your own. His skin was cold as it was smooth, pleasant to the touch, his rumbling churr travelling from his body to yours like a comforting hug 

There's something intimate and personal about the gesture that you simply don’t have the heart to turn down, he does it every time he has to leave you, the only answer you can make is that it’s some mermaid equivalent of saying goodbye

It was oddly comforting, like a wave, passing through your body, soothing and surprisingly powerful that struck down the knot of negativity and doubt festering within you

When he’d first tried to do it, you’d thought he was going to eat you and had jumped, but now, you welcomed the gesture gratefully 

He pulled away moments later, smiling down at you when your eyes fluttered back open. He offered one last chirp before he gradually began to drag himself back to the water, soon moving with graceful ease once deep enough, his grand body sliding out from the lagoon 

You blinked after him, brow climbing up into your hairline

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

It’s only ten minutes after Optimus leaves do you throw in the towel in your fire starting efforts, all you’ve managed to create is a cramp in your shoulder 

Sitting there in the sand sulking is the first thing you debate on doing, considering how done you are with just about everything, but in the end, you decide to exercise your injured leg instead 

You try to keep pressure off it as much as you can, but seeing how you and your crutch are going to be spending a lot of time together as you heal, the sooner you get used to moving around with it the better. Plus, it gave you a nice excuse to explore the rest of the lagoon 

Now that your earlier anxiety had worn away, you can appreciate how serene your surroundings are. Despite the storm, the lagoon seemed pretty well off all things considered. If you didn’t count the littering debris of tree branches you’d have thought the place was untouched entirely!

Walking along the rock formation that forms one half of the wall that snuggly cradles the lagoon off in a corner is much easier to walk along then the sand owning to the sturdier surface, and as you meander along, you frequently stop to admire the many smaller rock pools that had formed into the structure and the little worlds flourishing with them:

So far you’ve found starfish, shrimp, hermit crabs, regular crabs, small fish and even a jellyfish the size of your pinky. As you cross the halfway mark along the wall you stumble across a particular sizeable upturned seashell, must have been tossed there by a wave, you think 

Kneeling to pick it up you’re marvelled at how gorgeous it looks, scarlet stripes painting across its shell with little darker speckles that have you thinking of the red scales of Optimus’s shoulders and back

As you think of the mer, you can’t help but also remember that he’s been gone a suspiciously long amount of time..

You hum pensively as you cast your eyes over to the sea, wondering when a blue and cool grey face with an unmistakable pair of turquoise eyes will appear

You really have no way of telling how much time has passed exactly, but the sun was high up when he was last here, and now it’s lowering. If you had to wager a rough guess, evening couldn’t be more than a few hours away 

But this was definitely the longest period he had left you alone for in a while

Had you upset him earlier?

He’d been trying to comfort you, and all you’d really done was vent

Just as quickly as the theory enters your head do you dismiss it, if Optimus had really been annoyed then surely he wouldn’t have done his whole forehead goodbye thingy he was so fond of, why would he have smiled and chirped at you if your behaviour had irked him??

“Maybe..he’s out hunting??” you suggest to yourself “He’s been bringing me a lot of fish and I never see him eat any of them”

The idea of Optimus pushing away his own hunger in favour of making sure you had plenty both filled you with immense gratitude for the mer and sadness at the same time, you didn’t want him to neglect his needs for your sake. You make a mental note to discuss it with him whenever he returns, because you know he will, a gut instinct, you just don’t know when 

Hopefully before it’s dark..

Reaching the end of the rock platform you carefully lower yourself to sit, legs dangling over the ledge but not so much you risk falling in. Even if the water looked peaceful, you don’t fancy a dip with a hurt leg, considering how you were only just starting to nail walking with a crutch

With nothing to do and no mermaid to occupy your attention, you let your good leg sway and your fingers brush over the rough, textured surface of your seashell. For a brief moment, everything felt still and right

Your situation still wasn’t the best, you’re still stuck on an island with no other human life, but for now, everything felt okay 

With one hand holding your shell, thumb idly stroking back and forth across it, your other hand holds your face, your reflection on the water below staring right back

The water looked especially refreshing, a part of you does long to throw haste to the wind and jump in for a swim, but the more mature part of you knows that’ll only put needless stress on your leg trying to keep yourself afloat 

Sometimes, if you sit still enough, a small fish will dart out from its hiding spot under the rocks before zipping away from sight, it’s like your own personal aquarium, and even better, it’s free!

A particularly large fish caught your attention as it swam along with it’s belly against the smooth sand that made the bed of the lagoon, it paused some ways directly below you where you feet dangle, giving you a nice view of it’s spotty scales that likely make it blend in well amongst the underwater reeds

Seconds later, it decides it’s done resting and shoots off towards the exit of the, swimming over the ridge of sand before it dived into the vast sea beyond its sheltered walls 

You hadn’t noticed earlier, given how this was the first time you’d gotten so close to the exit and entrance of the lagoon, but where the gap in the wall had formed, the sand steeps upward into a miniature mound, cultivated through creatures big and small swimming in and out 

It dipped sharply downward into the rest of the ocean, merging with the seafloor below and meshing with the rest of the rock and sand beyond

As you stare, you acknowledge again how lucky it was that out of all the places you could have washed up, you washed up in the safety of a quite lagoon….and that you just happened to drift through the only gap that made both the exit and entrance to said lagoon

In fact, it was a miracle you hadn’t sunk to the sea floor before you were carried over to the lagoon. If you’d been drowning any earlier then you might have sunk too low to pass over the small wall of sand 

But, looking back, you don’t ever remember seeing this lagoon, even from the line of the coast path you’d been following before falling into the water. You’re sure you would have seen it, because before the storm had suddenly settled the weather had been relatively decent

The waves…couldn’t have carried you that far, could they??

In fact, you’re astonished the waves didn’t end up throwing you over the wall like a sack of potatoes. The walls were high yes, but not immensely so, a giant, powerful wave could have easily washed over them as if they were nothing

Really, what were the chances you’d wash up in a safe lagoon in the middle of a storm??

You can’t remember all the details very clearly, but you know for certain that you didn’t swim into the lagoon yourself, you remember the sea overpowering you, pushing you further under and fighting back against your thrashing legs and arms

You remember the fear, the blood chilling realisation that this is where you were going to meet your grave. At the bottom of the sea

You were drowning, you were going to die, and yet, despite all odds, you’re alive

Surely this couldn’t be dumb luck, it was just too convenient: the idea that the tide just happened to deliver your unconscious body into the lagoon, just happened to make you drift gracefully through the gap in the rocks rather than lobbing you over them, just happened to do all this before you drowned for real 

‘Unless…it wasn’t the sea that-!!’

Your seashell numbly fell from your hand

You don’t register it falling into the water with a light splash, nor do you register the large body of colour moving towards the lagoon, not until a body of red, blue, white and soft gray surges upwards from the water and has you wildly falling onto your back

The body of Optimus looms above you, strong arms that are twice the width of your body supporting him, while the end of his tail continues to sway in the water. Your chest heaves, eyes threatening to split your face from how they seemingly bug out of your skull from the sudden closeness

He’s pinned you beneath him on the rock, and your heart does a backflip involuntarily

You forget how to breath

Water cascaded down his body and drips down his chin, splashing onto your face, which seems to be the thing to urge you to do something, aside from lay there with your chest heaving like a petrified rabbit 

“Uh…H-Hi” you squeak, barely managing to move your fingers in a tiny wave 

If Optimus is at all aware of your fluster he is either oblivious to it, or was doing a very spectacular job of not showing it

His mouth pulled up into a smile at hearing your voice, sharp teeth glinting behind his lips that have your face turning darker, you can practically feel the heat travelling up to the tips of your ears 

You shuffle backwards as quickly as you can without infuriating your injury, coughing to find your voice “Heh, you uh..you were uhm, gone for a while” you start, completely unsure if there is even a way to smoothly transition to a conversation

Once you can comfortable sit with your injured leg outstretched, you are shocked again by Optimus when - instead of folding his arms and letting them rest on the rocky outcrop - he instead heaved his long, heavy body out of the water

Making a noise of concern you reach out and place your hand upon the scales of his arm as he settled in front of you “Wha- wait can you be fully out of the water?? Is that safe for you!”

At your touch, you instantly draw a pleased trill from him, the dominant fin that trails down the centre of his back and down his tail shivering happily. He offers you a gentle, assuring smile, before using the end of his tail to easily splash water up onto his body 

You get hit by a few drops of water in the process that draws a humoured huff from Optimus, the breath hitting your face and causing loose bits of your hair to be blown back 

You however, are far from being amused at his playfulness, your brain still whirling to digest your realisation 

It seemed whatever expression you were wearing was signal enough for the mer to gather you had something quite heavy on your mind, and he cocked his head at you, at once his amusement subsiding 

When you speak, your voice is quiet “Optimus..” the mer recognises the call of his name, offering you his full, undivided attention as you collect yourself to spit out the rest of your question 

“Did you…bring me to the lagoon?”

Who else could have??

Who else would know of such a safe, secure area for you to rest when hurt?? Who else could have easily swam you through the entrance and carefully laid you on the sand far away from the merciless crashing of waves?? Who else would have gone out of there way, in a storm of all things, to ensure your safety??

You’re not sure what type of reaction you were expecting, perhaps for him to give it a nervous second thought before answering? What you do not expect, is for Optimus to respond with a genuine, confident churr

Your eyes widen all over again

Optimus had been the one to bring you to the lagoon

Optimus had SAVED you

“Y-You…You..” you tried, stammering, his churr sounding so true that it threw you through several loops and then some. On the other hand, Optimus appeared unphased, he looked at you with such fond adoration, his smile small but real, that it was almost too much for you to process 

You try again to find your words, to say anything in response, but your throat continued to hold any half assembled words you’d strung together hostage, leaving you stuttering and red faced

Did Optimus understand the gravity of the deed he did? Did he know he had actually saved you from drowning?? That if he hadn’t found you, if he had been swimming at any other part of the island, if he’d shown up even a minute later then you might have..

“..Op..Optimus, I-I-”

He outstretched his hand, palm facing the sky, an object sitting there for you

At a glance, you thought it was some kind of weirdly shaped pebble, not the first of its type to be gifted to you by the mer. But when you look at it again, properly, you see the item for what it actually is

There's a tremble to your hands are you take the item slowly from him, being mindful of the bladed end against the fragile skin of your fingers 

“M-My…My knife..” you say, then, you whirl your face up to Optimus

He sits in a way an eager child would after they’ve handed someone a present, anticipating your reaction with a jubilant shine in his eye 

Meanwhile, yours shine for a different reason

You can’t think, can’t blink, can’t process why Optimus not only saved you, but returned your knife, the knife you had lost in the storm. How did he?!- WHY did he?!-

“You….You..” your voice is quiet, still in disbelief “Y-You went…looking for this?? Is THAT where you’ve been?!”

A collection of pleased chirps and trills is his answer, his fins raising as you clumsily fumble to inspect the handle of your knife

You miss is the first time when you try to grab for the string handle that dangles from the bottom, but you eventually manage to grasp it with your shaking fingers, pulling on it to free the flint striker that slotted into it when not in use

You can…you can start your fire with this. Prepare your fish, make a new shelter if you have to!

All because…Optimus went searching for it

He had no use for a knife, why would he?? His webbed appendages were already naturally sharp and his teeth even more so, why would he need to find a knife?? For you, that’s why 

For you

…Small, damp spots form on the material of your now dried trousers as moisture begins to freely fall down your face, your cheeks becoming sleek with them in a matter of seconds 

“T-This is…i-its..”

Your voice is devoid of its usually cheery quality that Optimus had come to admire so much, now, you only sound confused, sad, it doesn’t sit right with him at all

Afraid that he is the cause, Optimus ducked his head to try and catch your eye, but he barely gets a glance at your face before a broken sob rips out of your throat, startling him back 

You sob, your knife clattering to the rocky surface beneath you as your hands fly up to desperately hide your face and muffle your howling. The sound of Optimus’s panicked chirps as he tries to figure out what has caused you such unexpected distress are drowned out under the sound of your gross sniffling and crying 

You hiccuped, choking for air past your sobbing, body trembling. Your rocked with a wail, curling up to bury your face in your palm before Optimus can see 

Your heart was flooded with gratitude, overflowing with warmth and approval for the grand mermaid the likes of which you had never felt for any other being before. But alongside it, was a just as immense sense of confusion, of astonishment, of fear

Why? Why was Optimus so-…why would he bother-

“T-This!-..T-This is-” you hiccup, sniffling loudly as you clumsily wipe your eyes “T-This is..t-the nicest thing anyones ever done for me!!” you wail, head still ducked so low that Optimus can’t see your face. 

He churrs and chirps non-stop, desperately trying to figure out how he should proceed, you should say something to calm him, to promise him you are the furthest thing from disappointed at his act of kindness, but all you can think to say is:

“W-Why?..” You croak, pulling at the bottom of your shirt as a makeshift rag, wiping it across your face “W-Why are you…y-you being so..” with courage, you shakily raise your head to Optimus, who cowers with a sad whine at the disheartening look on your tear stained face

Your eyes were puffy, red, and you looked so utterly lost and confused that it caught him so off guard he almost slipped off the edge of the rock. With a trembling voice, you manage to finish your query: “Why are you being so…n-nice to me??”

Optimus found himself frozen, like ice had been injected into his being, he had never expected such an intense bout of tears from you from his gift. Was it not to your liking? Had he overstepped?? If only you could simply tell him what was wrong, he would fix it!

It took your sight becoming blurry once again, and a hiccup to escape your throat do you process that you were crying again

You knew you shouldn’t, you knew it would only make Optimus more stressed, but you just couldn’t stop it, you couldn’t stop it from building and overflowing inside you

You hugged yourself, arms tightly wrapping around your body with your head hung low. You must look so tiny to Optimus, so small and dramatic, he must be revolted at your improper reaction to his generous, meaningful gift..

A gentle nudge to the side of your head as Optimus, with all the tenderness he could muster, softly touched the side of your head in a brief nuzzle. He chirped, but you refused to abide to his wordless request, furiously shaking your head

Something woeful fell over his expression, and knowing you were the cause only makes the ache in your chest double 

You just didn’t understand, why was Optimus so caring towards you?? Why you?? Why not another mer?? What made you so…special to him??

Carefully, with precise movements, Optimus slowly curled himself around you, circling you protectively with his tail. Still with care, churring sadfully at your sniffling, he laid his chin upon your good leg, staring upward at you 

You didn’t want to look at him, you knew it would just cause you to break further, and yet, your head slowly turned without thought, hands moving away from your face until you meet his:

The look on his face, the way he looks at you - you feel your heart simultaneously break and swell 

You were uncertain just how much Optimus was able to understand the true extent of your muddled emotions, you weren’t even sure just how much you could make sense of them. But what you were certain of was the weight in your chest, and how looking at Optimus, seeing the honest to goodness care in his eyes made it feel just that bit lighter

All for you, imperfect, messy, unique you 

You reached for him, gently cupping either side of his face with your hands that looked dwarfed in comparison. He leaned into the touch, quietly churring. Tears welled back up in your glossy eyes, shivering from the intensity of your emotions 

Your voice wobbled as you spoke “T-Thank you”

Without asking, your tone conveying enough, Optimus moved forward. You carefully wrapped your arms around his head, pulling him to your chest where you lowered your head into the crown of his own, sobbing quietly, soft sniffles leaving you ever now and then 

An arm gently wrapped around you, his hand reaching for the small of your back where he simply supported you. After a moment, he began to churr again, the calming vibrations reminding you of a large, purring cat

Before you can stop it, you huff out a tired snicker at the amusing comparison 

The length of Optimus’s grand tail curls tighter around you, safely cocooning you, you had never felt so safe and grounded then right there, in the centre of his embrace, his head nuzzling into your stomach.

You held him tightly, trying to return even a fraction of the feeling of security you felt by his presence

“Thank you..” you said again, and you meant it

[crescenthistory]

silly little prompt list

send me a letter, number and character(s), as well as any additional details you'd like<3 mwah

for more prompts, go to the "writing prompts" tag on my blog

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆

nb! prompts in italics have already been chosen and written. you can request it again in another context, but be aware that i’m less likely to use it

a. sassy:

"how great that we have you to fix the world"

"thrilled to be blessed by your presence"

"i'll hear you out when you actually have something to say"

"well done, i would never have thought of that"

"how delightful"

"aren't you just a sweetheart"

"i'm sure you're not the only one"

"i'm sure you are the only one"

"how thoughtful of you"

"who would have thought"

"and?"

"in other news, the sky is blue"

"please do us all the favour of shutting up"

"i'd like nothing more"

"you forgot that i just don't care"

b. fluffy:

"i require at least a thousand kisses to make up for it"

"how are you so soft?"

"you occupy my every thought"

"kiss me again"

"you think (x) would kill us if we just eloped?"

"are you falling asleep on me?" "..." "alright then"

"may i have this dance?"

"it will always be you"

"i didn't know it was possible for you to be more beautiful"

"you changed my life"

"come back to bed"

"nothing matters but you"

"when did you realise you love me/her/him?"

"i can't imagine loving you more"

"how are you so cute right now?"

c. hurt/comfort:

"i want nothing more than to kiss away all your pain"

"maybe this will make it okay"

"who made you think all of this?"

"i didn't know it could hurt this much to be in love"

"there will not be a day where i am not there for you"

"i don't know, it just happened"

"they never left your side"

"you would have thought they were the injured one, the way they were acting"

"it pains me to see you like this"

"i'll get you out of there"

"you're okay, you're okay"

"i can't believe i did this"

"hold on, this might sting"

"i don't think i can take it, not this"

"i'm sorry, i know, i'm sorry"

d. angsty:

"how did you expect me to take it?"

"i just can't trust you anymore"

"well, i am terribly sorry for inconveniencing you"

"did you expect me to be more digestible?"

"but do you love me?"

"how could you expect me not to be angry with you after this"

"don't you have someone to take care of right now?"

"where is she?"

"it hurts like hell because you are everything to me"

"what a shame, they were so beautiful together"

"i never expected you to lie to me"

"what was i supposed to do?"

"i never hated you!"

"oh, stop with the tears"

"i can't do this anymore"

e. steamy:

"loosen up a little"

"let me distract you"

"turn around"

"kiss me, coward"

"tell me to stop"

"shut up"

"make me"

"it's more than want"

"use your words, sweetheart"

"don’t think about that right now”

"i want to see you"

"let's make this quick"

"is this okay?"

"tell me i'm yours"

"this is wrong"

f. ambiguous:

"well, fuck, i wasn't expecting my morning to go like this"

"you look like you want to read my mind"

"are we friends?"

"you woke me up for this?"

"tonight we're drinking straight from the bottle"

"pity"

"i cannot stand you two anymore"

"get over yourselves"

"do you realise you slam every door you close?"

"why would you do that?"

"can we please talk about this?"

"i'll ruin you"

"i'm so glad i was wrong about you"

"fine, keep acting like you hate me"

"i'm not drunk enough for this"

bonus: tropes (pair with a dialogue)

there's only one bed

bandmates

meet the family

near death experience

mutual pining believed to be unrequited

fake dating

temporary truce

accidental confession

secret relationship

firsts

soulmate au

arranged marriage

enemies/rivalry to lovers

trapped

sunshine x grump

[pasta-in-the-pudding]

Warmly greet!🫰 I just came across your blog today and I'm already in love with it!🖤🖤🖤 Could I leave a request here where Puppeteer, Jason, Candy Pop and LJ have a S/O who has insecurities about not being good enough for them? Because, come on...they're supernatural, not quite human, and their S/O is a regular, weak human, at least from the S/O's point of view...

Oooh thank you, friend! Also, i never get to write for Candypop or LJ so i am excited to do it!

Thank you so much for requesting!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Puppeteer

He will just kind of stare at you when you tell him those feelings

Like??? Are you kidding???

He is so obsessively in love with you that the thought of you feeling like you aren't enough for him is wild to him

Instantly he will assure you that you are more than he could ever dream of, and how much he loves you

He doesnt love you for supernatural abilities or powers, he loves you for you

Again, the thought of you not being enough for him doesn't even really comprehend in his mind

it's so insane to him that you, his most favorite person in the world who he couldn't live without, thinks that they aren't enough for him

If anything, he isn't enough for you, in his opinon

you are a literal deity walking on earth, and he is lucky enough to even witness your beauty and you think you arent enough???

Yeah, those thoughts are snuffed out rather quickly by him

He will spend the entire day going over every little thing he adores about you if he has to

Jason The Toymaker

He is just kind of confused when you express your feelings to him

"Now, what's this all about?" he asks with a pitiful look towards you

He honestly thinks that it's kind of weird that those feelings are even something humans are capable of feeling

What does he care that you don't have any weird abilities?

"Even when you are old and grey I will still love you. I will love you when you are in pain, and I will love you when you are happy. You being human makes no difference to me, because I love you. Even when you breathe your last breath, your soul will live on with me in the form of my favorite doll I will keep on a special shelf, pristine and upkept"

He's kind of a helpless romantic lol

Bro gave you a whole essay

anyways, he literally could not care less if you are magical or not, he's just thinks you're neat <33

CandyPop

He kind of thinks its funny that you think that

He will snort and look at you like you're joking "why??"

"You shouldn't feel that way. It's pointless to. Because you and I both know that no matter what, I still love you. I wouldn't be with you if I didn't like you at least a little bit"

He will joke around with you and make you try to feel good about being human

You are allowed to go pretty much wherever you please without being called a demon, he can't

Your squishy flesh human body is quite sustainable on its own, being able to morph and adapt to extreme situations, which he thinks is neat

And his personal favorite about humans, specifically you, you have such a wide array of expressing yourself! You have emotions, art, studies, etc

He loves you being human and you not liking being human is strange to him

Laughing Jack

He understands the insecurity

He can't say he's ever felt it, because he gives literally no fucks, but he understands

He will do whatever you want him to do about it, really

Lord knows he doesn't know what to do

If you wanna rant, he'll listen

If you wanna just be doted on, that's what he'll do

Whatever makes you feel better

Honestly, he does find it a little peculiar that you don't like being human

Like, if he could be 5'10", wear whatever he wants, do whatever he wants, go whatever he wants, etc, he'd be soooo happy

His 7'6" ass could never

[writefightandflightclub]

Ride or Die (Santiago “Pope” Garcia x fem!reader): Chapter Nine (of 11 - COMPLETED SERIES)

Series summary: Together, you and Santiago have been “soldiers” then “friends” then “lovers”; but will you ever figure out what comes next, especially when Santiago can’t (or won’t) stop running? 

Genre: a LOT of angst, (some) smut, best friends to… lovers?

Warnings: see collated series warnings, here. Please note this series is 18+. Minors or ageless blogs interacting will be blocked.

Series info: this is a COMPLETED SERIES. All chapters are written and queued. Posting schedule is here (includes series master list). 

Author’s note: Shorter chapter this week (be warned, next week's will be the heftiest yet), but I hope you like this next instalment! It's really gearing us up for the FINAL TWO! As always, I would be super grateful for any comments / reblogs / asks you may wish to send my way. If you've read this far, THANK YOU! ILY :-*

Word count: 3.8k for this part. 

Tag list info: will reblog separately tagging those on taglist. You can request to be added to taglist if you are 18+. Send me an ask, please, so I can keep track :)

Today is a new day. It’s a new day and you’re done crying. You’re done holding on to anger and resentments. 

Besides, you feel as though you gave Santiago everything you had last night, and - at least for now - there is nothing else left to give. 

So, instead of wallowing, you plod downstairs to where Frankie is stationed in the kitchen, offering up your favourite pastries, coffee, and even pulpy, freshly squeezed orange juice. You pull up to the breakfast bar, hopping up on a stool to survey your extravagant pity platter. 

It’s true then. “He’s gone.” 

Frankie nods solemnly, leaning into the other side of the island like he’s a sympathetic bartender in some old Western flick. He claps his palm to your shoulder in a supportive gesture. “I’m sorry, chiquita.”

You shrug. 

His face twists. That’s not all there is. “Don’t shoot the messenger, but…”

“What, Frankie?” 

“He had to bounce but he didn’t want to wake you. Said you looked far too peaceful sleeping for him to come along and fuck that up.”

Your brow notches, absorbing all of that with a contrived neutrality. “How did he… seem?”

Frankie’s eyebrows raise lightly as he ponders, thinking back over prior events. “Calm, actually. Happy, even.” 

“Hmm.” You smile softly to yourself. Makes a change from lately to hear that. You get it though. After last night, you can’t feel anything else either. Even if he technically didn’t say goodbye in words, you get it. You aren’t mad. Chances are one or both of you would have fucked it up this morning. This way at least, it leaves the night you spent together untarnished. Makes it feel like holding on to a good dream, before the realities of the day can set in and make things fraught. 

Frankie’s face crumples with concern as you gaze wistfully into the middle-distance. “You gonna be alright?” 

You pump your eyebrows. Search yourself for feelings. “You know what? Yeah. I am. I’m okay.” 

Frankie’s eyes glint playfully then. “Oh. So you won’t need alllll o’ these yummy pastries?” 

You laugh as he eyes the pain au chocolat pointedly. “Get stuck in, Morales,” you invite fondly, and he obliges, scraping up a stool and wiggling on his ass until he’s comfy. 

“Hey. So,” he says through mouthfuls. “Did you two figure anything out?” 

You groan at the sheer complexity of Frankie’s simple question. Did you? Or are you still going around in circles? “We know we love each other. The rest? Uh. I still don’t know.” 

“He’ll get there.” 

You puff air out from between your teeth. 

“You don’t think so?” Frankie interprets. 

You wrap your arms around your middle. “It’s not that. It’s… I don’t think it was all on him.” You don’t have any blame or accusations left. No grudges to hold on to - your hands are open. You’ve both made mistakes. Manufactured this distance, in your own ways - sometimes literally, sometimes not. You were both just trying to figure all this out as best as you could. 

Frankie’s brows notch and rise with a silent question. How so? What do you mean? 

The thoughts form as you speak them. Clumsy yet intrepid. “I guess... It just feels like we were… Both waiting for the other person to get somewhere, you know? But this whole time, we should’ve been heading there together. Otherwise, how the fuck were we supposed to know where to end up?” You slide a palm over your face. “Christ. Does that make any fucking sense?”

Frankie ponders. “I think so. Like trying to meet on the highway without a time or a place or directions?” 

You reach out and clasp his hand. “You get me, buddy.” 

Frankie blinks, tangling himself up further in your metaphor, but valiantly trying to muddle through. “And so… do you…?” He scratches his chaotic mop of hair. “Do you have a map now? A meeting point? I mean… What happens next? On the highway?” Your mouth lilts into a gentle smile at Frankie’s earnest question. He notes and feeds your amusement, going off the deep-end with this metaphor now. “Are you driving in shifts, chiquita? Grabbing cheez-its for the road?”

You laugh, the musical sound mingling with Frankie’s throaty chuckle. “What happens next?” You repeat the question out loud, carefully, posing it to yourself. Hasn’t that always been the question? However, the very sentiment which used to scare you now feels a lot more like potential. Like possibility. 

Still, you feel -for the moment- like leaving that question hanging. You leave a pregnant pause. You let it breathe. 

For now; you let it go. You let him go. 

“Where are the other guys at, anyway?” 

Frankie rides your tangent with ease. “Packing shit up.” 

“We should help them.” 

“Yeah, we should,” Frankie grins mischievously, and yet neither of you make any effort whatsoever to mobilise. 

Instead, Frankie pours you a cup of coffee from the pot. 

“You wanna call off the hike today?” he asks hopefully, Frankie increasingly a creature of comfort. 

“No. Hell no. I need to move.” You lock your fingers and stretch your arms above your head, a satisfying stretch extending down your spine. 

Frankie’s eyes sparkle across at you. “Just not in aid of helping the Millers pack their trunk, huh?” 

“Exactly! What did I tell you, bud. You get me.” 

You do though. You need to move. You need to move forward. No more standing in place. No more moving in circles, always repeating. 

Still, when you think about it. When you think to what is ahead, to what is next, your stomach drops. You feel overcome by a sudden anxiety which you can’t place at first. Like having misplaced something dear to you. Like having done something wrong but not being able to recall exactly what. Then, all of a sudden, you understand it entirely. 

“Listen. Tell me about this job, Frankie.” 

He immediately tenses up. “What job?” 

You take a bite of your pastry. “The one with Lorea’s cash house.”

Frankie simply groans. He always knows more than he lets on, this one. About everything. Everyone. 

“Is it true? That you and the boys are in?” 

You can plainly see his reticence to respond. But you know for a fact that he’s about to cave. 

5, 4, 3, 2, 1. 

“They need a pilot,” Frankie states, looking up at you with guilty, puppy dog eyes. 

“Fuck me. He dragged you back in too, huh? You know… Sometimes I wonder if any of us are good for each other.” Your tone grows mildly irate, your heart quickening, but you recognise it for what it is. It’s simply anger veiling worry. You love these boys. 

“Come on, don’t say that,” Frankie bargains. “We’ve dragged each other out of hell.”

“And back again.”

Frankie takes a deep breath. His tongue pokes around the meat of his cheek. “He says it’s simple recon. In and out. No mess.” 

You jut your chin up. Stare at him levelly, unblinking. You know that Frankie will give it to you straight. Know that he can’t help himself. “And you buy that?” 

5, 4, 3, 2, 1. 

“Not for a fucking second.” 

You scoff, shaking your head. Not when it comes from Santiago, no. After all, you’ve fallen for Santiago’s bullshit plenty of times yourself. It’s the fact that Frankie would wander in with his eyes wide open to it that really gets you. It’s something else. 

Still, before you can chastise him for being so stupid, Frankie glumly offers up some explanation. “Look. I need the job. I… I got my license revoked.” 

Your heart drops - and your face with it. Your hands clamp over your mouth. “Frankie,” you say softly, with empathy. “Fuck.”

He hunches in on himself despondently, his hands disappearing up his sleeves, his fists clenching and his gaze cast downward. “I fucked up, man. Cassie has a baby on the way and I fucked up.” His eyes swim with a deep shame. 

“Coke?” you venture, tentatively.  

5, 4, 3, 2, 1. 

Slowly, he nods. 

“Frankie.” Your hand swipes over your face, and your eyes fill with concern for him. His palm waves in the air, however, quickly dismissing any sympathies you may care to bestow. 

“I’m back on track. Getting there. I am.” His eyes are nothing but determined. Sincere. “But I need this gig. No matter how fucking hare-brained a scheme that pendejo is cooking.” 

“Think of the baby, dude.”

“That’s exactly what I’m doing,” Frankie says forcefully, in a harsh tone he rarely uses, and you know in no uncertain terms that the conversation is done. That he’s made his mind up, and that he won’t hear you out any further on the matter. 

You swallow. Regroup. You chew on some platitudes, but none of them feel quite right. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Frankie says after a stretched, tense moment. “I didn’t mean to snap at you.” 

“It’s okay,” you jostle his shoulder, and it shakes a little of the tension from him and the room. “I get it. And shit. I’m sorry for putting all of my bullshit on you this weekend. I wish you’d said something, Cat.” 

He shrugs. Speaks with finality. “There’s not much to say. It’s done. I just need to make it right. And I will.”

“I believe it. But you do know that I’m… If you need… Anything, Frankie.” 

He looks up at you then, the warmth back in his eyes as your voice cracks, searching for the words. But, he already knows everything you could ever say. You’ve said it before, a hundred times. He knows you love him. Knows you’re proud of him. Knows you’d do anything for him. Knows you want the best for him. He knows it already. 

In turn, you are sure that he already knows everything you could possibly call him out on. That he’s already thought about it. Weighed it up. Thought about the risks. About the possibility that he’s acting out of desperation. The possibility that he’d probably be better off staying the hell away from Pope’s schemes. 

He scrapes his stool back and comes to you, bundling you into a tight, warm, big brother hug. You tug in a deep breath, and you let it go. You’re done trying to control everything around you. It never really got you anywhere. 

Still, there’s an undeniably uncomfortable knot in your chest as you think about them all gearing up. Strapping on their tac vests. Shoving clotting pads into their med packs. It makes you feel physically ill. And so, you can’t help yourself. “Do me a favour, Frankie? Don’t take Tom?” You muffle the words into his shirt, half hoping they will get lost there. That maybe he didn’t even hear you. But, you know when he braces his hands on your shoulders to get a good look at you, that your game is up. 

“Why not?” 

You see it then, in his eyes. That Tom is not a risk Frankie has considered. His presence not something he has weighed up. 

You deliver your words as plainly and transparently as possible. “He’s too hungry, Cat.” 

Frankie simply locks eyes with you, as though trying to weed out your motives. Shrewdly trying to assess your conclusions. Is this just your petty vendetta talking? Is this intelligence? Is this coming from your gut? 

“Please. Just trust me.”

“I do,” he nods eventually, but you should know better than to feel any relief. And next, there it is. “I do but it’s not my call.” 

Well. You’ve said your piece. You guess that’s all you’ve got. Absent-mindedly, you tug on Frankie’s lapels. “You’d better come back to me, Cat,” you plead plaintively. “And by God, you’d better bring those other fuckers back with you to boot.” 

With a wistful affection, Frankie tugs you to him again and you stand there in silence for a few more moments, the sounds of the other guys evident in the background. In time, you and Frankie release each other and gravitate towards them, tucking yourselves under the porch to survey their efforts packing up the trucks. 

“We should probably help,” you repeat again, and, to your side, your hear Frankie’s murmur of agreement. However, when you glance to him you see his long, lean frame stretched out up against the wooden porch post. He looks like a man with nowhere else to be in a hurry.  

“Fuck,” he curses at nothing in particular, surveying the animated bodies of his buddies before him with both awe and trepidation. “How did we get here? Years of service and none of us have anything to show for it.” 

That’s a Santiago sales pitch, through and through, you reckon. You recognise his propaganda. Funny, since he used to swallow the flag for breakfast. Is that how he got to him then? Convinced Frankie he could finally make bank? Take what he deserved? Ah. Or give his family what they deserved? Frankie is all about family. 

A sad smile twitches your mouth. “Well. That’s not entirely true, is it? Not nothing.” You think of what you’ve gained from all of this. “I got a gaggle of weird ass brothers. A suitcase full of trauma. A fucked back. And! An array of unhealthy coping mechanisms.”

Despite the darkness of your statement, Frankie’s eyes crinkle. What else is left to do but laugh, anyway? “Maybe Will should put that in his speech.”

You belly chuckle at that, moving to lean up against the opposite post. “Yeah. Scare those poor recruits off before they can end up like us, huh?” 

Frankie looks wistful again. “It hasn’t been all bad.” 

No. It hasn’t. He’s not wrong about that. 

You ponder on it. If you could go back and change your path - would you? But, despite everything, your squad would be far too much to lose. “Sure. The weird thing is, as shitty as it’s been at times? I wouldn’t change it for the world.” 

There is a beat, and Frankie reaches out across the space between you and wordlessly clasps your hand. 

“Listen. You gonna be okay, Frankie?” He looks down at his worn sneakers, contemplatively, as though he really doesn’t know the answer yet. You give his hand a squeeze, trying to let him know that’s okay. “We’ll talk more, okay?” 

He nods - a subtle, concessionary thing, like maybe he could really do with that. 

“I get why you didn’t tell me. But I’m sorry. That I didn’t do a better job of asking.” 

“It’s not on you,” he says generously. A little too generously, in your estimation. You’ve been rather wrapped up in your own shit. A little too self-involved. “I know I can talk to you. I just… I, uh. Didn’t want to ruin the weekend.” The irony of that statement causes a throaty chuckle to bounce in Frankie’s neck, and your palm slides over your face in regret even as you laugh in reciprocity. 

“Christ. I did a great job of that all by myself.”

“Well,” Frankie says good-naturedly, shifting to bump your hip with his. Wrapping his crooked arm over your shoulder. “You had some help.” 

It is your turn now to look wistful, as you contemplate the storm that is Santiago, and all the rubble he left behind. “He’s really gone again.” Frankie simply squeezes you a little tighter. “Hey. Anything else I should know, by the way?” you needle. “You’re not holding out on me?”  

Frankie sucks air through his teeth. “Tom and Molly. She finally served him papers.” 

You fold forward, hinging to collapse your upper half onto the porch rail. “Fuck. Shit. I really need to start being nicer to that shithead.” Still, from behind, Frankie’s familiar chuckle buoys you, even as you inwardly berate yourself for getting wrapped up in your own business. “We’re all messes, huh, Frankie? Do you think we can fix it?” 

“Yeah. Yeah. I do.” 

“Truly?” 

“Truly.” 

You toss him a soft, grateful smile, which extends as Will makes his way over to your position, greeting you “Hey, slackers!”. You and Frankie share a conspiratorial glance. 

“All set for the hike, Captain?” 

“No thanks to you.” 

“I had an alternate mission. Ranks of pastries to deplete.”

Will feigns tiredness, but his baby blues sparkle even as he rolls them. 

“Anyway. Didn’t need you. All set to head out as soon as you slackers get your act together. You wantin’ to do the usual route, hon?” 

You brace your arms against the porch rail. Dig your fingers into the wood. “No,” you say, the words a little tight in your chest, but they feel good. “Not today. There’s somewhere else. Somewhere I always wanted to go.” 

Somewhere new. 

“Fine by me,” Frankie offers. “Just let me grab more pastries.” 

***

You relish the hike, when it comes. You relish walking a path that is -to you- entirely untrodden. That he can’t touch. You walked the old, familiar trails for too long, and the only place it ever got you was right back where you started. 

The bullshit ends here. You’ve decided. 

And so, you turn your attention away from your sun, and to the wider constellation of stars around you. To yourself. 

You even do your best to make peace with Tom. To put old grudges to bed. 

You relish the hike. Enjoy the undulating landscape. You don’t know for sure what’s next, or where you’re going, but the difference is that for once, that feels okay. Full of potential. 

You walk until your legs burn, and when you get to the summit you take a moment to drink in the crisp, clifftop air. To look out across the ocean. To see it from a distance and to know that this time, it cannot break you over and over and over. 

Still, when you’re at the top, as if by providence, Santiago texts you. 

“Hey. Sorry I had to take off early. I wanna say… Thank you.” 

“For what?”

“For the best night of my life.” 

“Ah. Fuck it,” you whisper to yourself, and you press the button to call him. You immediately call him. He immediately picks up. “Hi.”

”Hi. What’s up? They just announced my gate.”

”That’s okay, I’ll be quick. I, uh. I just needed to tell you too. Thank you.”

“For what?” 

“For a proper goodbye.” 

“Look, I’m sorry that I-”

“-I’m not mad, Santi. I think… I think we said everything we have to say, right? I think it was…”

”…Perfect?”

”Yeah. Yeah, pretty perfect.” 

“Listen. It’s selfish, but. With everything coming up. The Lorea job and… I needed it, you know? Needed that image of you sleeping.” 

There’s an ache in your chest and it’s bittersweet. 

He cares for you in every way he knows how, doesn’t he? In every way he can. He’s not perfect, but hey, neither are you. You’re both a little bit broken, but that doesn’t mean you can’t heal. And most of all, it doesn’t mean you don’t deserve love while you’re doing it. 

One day, he’ll turn up at your door, and he’ll be welcome. Whenever that is. Whenever it happens. But until then, you can’t just wait for him. 

Until then, you’ll love him; from a distance. 

No longer can you leave him in anger. No longer can he break you. 

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” 

Maybe one day, that will even be enough. 

“Would you promise me something?”

“Sure.”

“Come back and visit soon, huh?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I promise.”  

You conclude the call, and you stretch your arms above your head. A pleasant tingle snakes down your back as it cracks. You haven’t felt so relaxed in a long time. You don’t think you’ve ever felt such peace. 

The path that you are walking is yours, and you implicitly trust where it’s taking you. 

***

You are grateful to slip into the passenger side of Frankie’s car, beginning the drive back to the city and signalling the end of your stay at the beach house. Still, there is something bittersweet there too as you leave behind the site of so many memories from over the years - and now, the site of your most perfect night with Santiago. 

It reminds you of all you’ve been through. The ups and the downs and plenty of things which went sideways. You are starting to realise though, that perhaps the landscape of love is undulating. That sometimes the terrain is tough. It shouldn’t have been quite so tough though - so steep and unforgiving; and so, you hope for gentler, easier paths ahead. 

It is bittersweet then, as you leave this place behind. 

As you look forward, having said goodbye. As you wrestle with your past, future, and present. 

Frankie swings the car out and onto the highway, the Millers up ahead and Tom behind, your vehicles forming a convoy through the dark, the glow of headlights illuminating the route ahead. 

You sit in silence, eyes and thoughts unfocussed, in abstraction, as you watch vague shapes and colours slipping by the window, your own face occasionally reflected right back at you. You look older than you used to. More tired. But you don’t dislike that. 

After a while, Frankie’s robust voice slices through the dark, his eyes on the road and hands threading the wheel. “I don’t know if this will make things better or worse but… Do you want to hear it?” 

You swivel your head towards him, fractured, liquid panels of light slipping over the planes of his face as your surroundings pass by in a haze. “Hear what?” 

“Pope’s heartbreak playlist?” 

Your hands dig into your thighs where they rest. “Do I?”

“Well?” Frankie asks, his finger poised over the button, and evidently not willing to make that decision for you. 

“Yeah. Fuck it.”

You brace a little, in all honesty. A tightness takes hold of your chest as you wonder if the first track to befall your ears might be angry. Resentful. Full of blame or sadness that you can’t hope to wrestle with and come out on top. But, as the first notes of the track sound out, you are surprised to find a full, unfettered laugh rises from out of your throat. The tears swell in your eyes next, for it is nothing if not bittersweet. 

“That dickhead. I can’t believe…” 

You can’t believe it. The fact he has chosen a song which reflects your life together? Which reveals a happy memory? 

He loves you, doesn’t he? He has for a long time. And you can’t help but hope that maybe one day, that will even be enough. For tonight though, it will definitely do. You’ll take it. You’ll treasure it. 

“Whiskey in the Jar,” Frankie scoffs as he catches on to the song, even if his fingers are drumming against the lip of the wheel involuntarily. “I mean. What the shit’s that all about? He’s a weird kid, I swear.” 

“Frankie,” you laugh brightly, turning once again to look wistfully out of the window, as the view of the beach house and the ocean recedes into the distance. You catch another glimpse of yourself in the pane, and this time you look younger, you think. More alive. “Did I ever tell you about that night in Philadelphia?”

[musette22]

It's absurd that Annabelle haters aka Sebastain Stan jealous fans reported an old fan account of hers The Best Annabelle Wallis on Instagram to have the page deactivated, and it was, because they don't want people to think she has fans. For the first time I felt ashamed to be part of Seb's fandom, really. There's also a Seb fan pretending to be an Annabelle fan spreading hate against Seb's mother to make people hate Annabelle. This is pure evil. All this because she was with him on the red carpet. We don't have to love and become a fan of Annabelle, but she was the one he chose to be there. If it's not her, it will be someone else, but it will never be us. The same thing happens with Cevans' fandom, there's a lot of hate, and this only drives fans away, to the point that soon there will only be hate.

At a time when we should be feeling proud and celebrating Sebastian's achievements, I'm just embarrassed to call myself a fan because I don't want anyone to think I'm crazy.

I hope Thunderbolts will flop. That's what I'm feeling right now because a lot of these fans are Bucky fans.

Oh honey, I'm sorry you had to see that vile stuff. It is awful, and it is ridiculous and nasty and inexcusable behaviour, that's for sure. I personally think Annabelle seems great actually, and she seems to be making Seb very happy, so she definitely doesn't deserve this kind of treatment from Sebastian's supposed "fans".

But unfortunately, this kind of stuff is just always going to be part of celebrity fandoms, or at least for as long as there is social media where people feel like they can say and do anything and get away with it. It's sadly happened with every partner Sebastian's had, and much worse than the current situation, too. That doesn't make it okay, but it's not anything new.

But the good thing is: not all fans are like this (you and I and all the wonderful people I am lucky enough to call my mutuals in this fandom are proof of that). In fact, I would venture to say that most fans are not like this, and the boys and their loved ones are aware of that, I'm sure. But the nasty fans are unfortunately usually the loudest and most visibly present, that is true.

Which is why it is SO important to protect your peace and curate your own fandom space. It really is mostly a question of avoiding certain spaces and people, and blocking certain blogs and accounts. It really does work, because I personally hardly ever see any of this stuff, so unless people come and tell me about it, I wouldn't even know this was happening. So if you curate your experience, and you do it properly, then you'll notice that there are also so, so many people in this fandom who do love and support the boys and their partners, and who aren't delusional and (overly) parasocial about them. It may seem to you like the hate is omnipresent, but if you take a few precautions and cut out some of the haters, the fandom suddenly looks very different, I promise!

Of course that doesn't make the bullies go away, but the less attention they get, the more likely they are to lose interest. Also, remember that there is genuinely something wrong with a lot of the people behaving this way. They're clearly either unhappy with their own lives, or have something else going on that makes them act like this, and honestly, I kind of pity them. I hope they get help, but one thing's for sure: they're not getting any of my attention or energy. I have far better uses for that, like gushing about our boys with all the beautiful like-minded people I've found on here! ❤️

So please, don't waste your energy and time on these people, darling. They don't deserve it, and you deserve better! And hey, Seb is clearly happy and thriving, so the haters can eat their spiteful little hearts out 👋🏻

[switch-witch-erin]

This is gonna be my last post regarding the conflict with Ticklethentopple. Though it’s more of a rant than an actual post, I can’t help myself, I’m so fucking angry

YOU REAP WHAT YOU SOW, BRO

You said some truly shitty things towards an entire community of people and blame ME for reacting?? For real??

Personally, I don’t believe a word of what you said in the post, but I have no proof, so I’m going to assume you’re telling the truth. Though you could’ve turned the notifications/asks off a lot sooner or temporarily deleted the app lol.

What you’re going through sounds like hell, but it has nothing to do with the conflict. YOU’RE THE ONE WHO STARTED IT ALL. You started blaming people left and right, including some of my friends, my favourite artists and people whom I look up to in the community. And now you’re trying to invoke pity for something completely unrelated to what happened? For real? You and your suckup encouraged people to block Tasay and me, publicly claiming that we’re groomers. I have a feeling that if someone called you a groomer and urged people to cancel YOU, you’d be at the very least displeased with it :)

“I said some fucked up things and blamed innocent people for a terrible crime they didn’t do, but I was going through difficult times, why are you mad at me 🥺”

Was I supposed to ignore getting called a pedo? “Something we disagree on”. Yeah, I do disagree with you calling me a groomer, yes. Do you really not understand how serious this accusation is? Yet you act as if you accidentally stepped on my foot in a queue, and I’m making a big fuss over it.

Once again, I literally said that I don’t approve of the bullying. I didn’t ask people to send you threats and what not, I asked for entirely the opposite. You only have yourself to blame for the stunt you pulled. All I did was expose it.

“yOu ArE a HoRrIbLe PeRsOn”

At least I’m not a groomer anymore, that’s a nice change of pace, thank you

You can work your ass through whatever you want, it’s not an excuse to be an asshole. You’re fucking 30 years old, take some responsibility for once. SURPRISE — YOU’RE THE ONE TO BLAME FOR YOUR WORDS.

If before all of that I tried to explain myself, to make peace and to establish at least some sort of mutual understanding, now I’m just so fucking pissed. I don’t see any point in talking to a fucking infantile brick wall. Peace out, you pathetic joke ✌🏻

And to everyone who’s been monitoring the situation — please, don’t send me any more asks about the conflict with Ticklethentopple, and don’t send me screenshots of their posts, I’m fed up with them, I don’t want it to be on my blog. Feel free to DM, but I might be too tired to respond. Right now I want to concentrate on tickling-related stuff as it gives me distraction and dopamine to get back on my feet. I’m already working on the promised posts about overall liking tickling experience and prevention of minors getting groomed. In other words, I want to concentrate on stuff that’s important to me and not waste my time

[tadpolesonalgae]

Hi Tabby,

Just wanted to say - I recently (like within the last hour) found your blog.

I’m also several months new to the MAASverse; therefore, very new to all the fanfics and things.

I started out with ACOTAR and have been devouring tumblr for any Rhysand literature I can get my grubby little eyes on.

And I have to say, after reading through 2-3 dozen (at least) different authors worth of head cannons, one-shots, series, etc., YOU, Tabby, are by far the best I’ve read so far.

The way you honor a character and their being/personality/traits/mannerisms but give them a new life within the creative world you bring them into is masterful.

I was looking through your master list and then found an anon where you address the links and your stories. Truly, I was heartbroken when you broke down your interaction analytics and expressed an end to the sharing of your writings.

Please keep writing.

Please keep creating.

Please don’t ever let anyone stop you.

- 🌭

Oh my gosh you like Rhysand? (!!!!)

Please please please try out @whisperingmidnights Heart of Velaris series, or anything she's written, to be honest! She's an absolutely wonderful writer and (to me, at least) perfectly captures Rhys' charm! My heart always flutters a little whenever I'm rereading that series!! And her writing is always so devastatingly detailed too, it's so easy to immerse oneself in the stories August tells! <3

'I was looking through your master list and then found an anon where you address the links and your stories. Truly, I was heartbroken when you broke down your interaction analytics and expressed an end to the sharing of your writings. Please keep writing. Please keep creating. Please don’t ever let anyone stop you.'

I'm still indecisive, if I'm being honest with you.

I really love this online space, and all the different kinds of writing I've gotten to read from being here! I think I want to continue writing, but emotions are so rarely consistent I don't know if that enjoyment will vanish tomorrow or whether I'll keep feeling like it's fun for some time longer :/

Which is also more than a little inconvenient when it feels pointless, because what if I delete everything and then regret my decision? I'd be devastated!

Either way, I'm just trying not to think about it too much at the moment, and hoping I'll just naturally go back to enjoying it

I do want to say, thank you for caring enough to write in - it's heartwarming to hear. (I'll admit, I'm comforted you're taking pity on me, thank you <3)

[fertilize-my-eggs]

Love triangle ch.1

Joining the league of villains

Please read the notes and tags on A03 it's not a dark theme content but it is for a mature audience so I don't want minors or ageless blogs to interact thanks you. ❤️

Ch.2 ch.3

“ sorry miss (last name), you can't be a hero.. ” I put my hands on my hips as I pouted towards the hero who was already dismissed me.

“ why not? Like at least explain it to me. ”

“ Your cat quirk isn't suitable and super common, we got the wild wild pussycat, I'm sure you can join them. ” I narrow my eyes as I hiss at him.

“ b-but I can also change the size and turn myself into a beast. ” he waved as he already dismissed me, I crossed my arms. It's pitiful, I swear..

It's not fair, I can be useful, I can help others.

Why was he such a dick, I sigh walking away from the commission, I would probably end up being a sidekick but still heroes have been more entitled and greedy for fame.

As the hours passed, I soon found myself at this bar, alone and in need of booze.

I mean this bar already looks shady but the ghostly gentleman greet me and bow.

“ I'll have your strongest drinks please but make it sweet too. ” he nodded his head without saying a word, I put my hand on my cheek, feeling my calico tail away side to side as my ears twitched to the sound of footsteps.

 

I tilt my head towards a man with light blue hair as he looks a little confused but sat down.

The drink was placed in front of me as I widened my eyes. It looked so delicious and tropical like the bright pink mix with yellow hue making it really pretty and stand out.

I begin to drink happily as I can sense the alcohol vibrating all over my body.

“ you're new here? Haven't seen you at this bar. ” I tilt my head towards the man sitting next to me, he grabs his drink as he take sips of it.

“ You seem really eager with that drink. ” I laugh out loud as I smack his back as I rub my eyes, the alcohol hitting stronger since I'm lightweight.

“ y-yeah!! Hell yeah I am, this is the best fucking drink I've ever had. ” I didn't notice him intensely staying still as he stare in shock as he lean back and begin to chuckle, in a relax state.

“ But yeah, I've never been to this bar.. the drinks are amazing. ” I hiccup a little as I drink more, throwing my head back as I drink every single drop of it.

I begin to eat the cherry as the blue haired man coughs as he stares a little longer. I tilt my head confused as I look directly at him, purring vibrating in my throat.

“ I can tell… is your quirk strong? ” he crossed his arms as I thought about it.

“ I mean I can show you if you want. ” he nodded his head as I have loop side smile.

“ okie!! ” I stand up as I begin to transfer into a regular house cat, I purr and meow towards him as he begins to smile softly.

I jump into the countertop as I transfer into a giant beast, bigger than a lion and a tiger.

I stare into his red eyes as I blink at him.

I jump towards the table, breaking it instant as I roar out and use my claws to break more tables.

The man's smile grew big as I finally turned back to semi human, having the cat ears and tail.

“ I can also change into different species of cat related but the problem with that, I burn out easily as I need to take rest. It takes a lot of energy out of me. ”

He put his hand on his face as he smiled towards me.

“ how would you like to join the league of villains. I’m the leader tomura shigaraki. ” I tilt my head, did I hear it right…. I blink slowly as I soon realized this isn't a normal regular bar but it's own by group of villains, I thought about it I mean there nothing to lose since the heros reject me and my quirk.

“ uhh sure, do you have a place to stay because… ” I look downward in shame, I've been on the streets for awhile, my own family kicked me out when I was young, it was difficult finding a place to stay and nowhere to go.

“ been homeless for a while.. ” I mumble softly as I don't look at him.

Tomura smiles as he speaks.” yeah we do, I have an extra empty room just for new recruits like you. ”

I smile as I jump in joy.

“ Welcome to the league of villains. ”

Tomura says softly as I tap his shoulder with great enthusiasm, he stares at me with curiosity and cautious.

“ thank you thank you!! I won't let you down boss.. do you have any more drinks? ” he raised his brow as he chuckled at me as he shook his head.

“ don't drink too much,  you got a side quest… a mission with dabi. ” I tilt my head as my ears flickered. 

“ aw… with dabi?? Who's that? ” he smirks at me as he takes a sip.

“ dabi is your new teammate and your mission will start tomorrow with him understood? Uhh what's your name? ” Shigaraki tilted his head as I said my name fast and quick.

Tomura smiles as he speaks.” good.. don't make me disappointed (name). ” I stand up straight as I put a big toothy smile on.

“ I won't let you down boss!! ”

.

.

.

I groaned from the hangover and stretched like an actual cat as I felt the sleepiness heavy on my eyelid as I heard the rapid knocking from my door.

I get up to dress in a comfy outfit, I open the door except to see the boss but I see a raven black haired man taller than me as he’s leaning against the frame.

“ Good morning kitty cat~. I hear you're the new recruit for our group. ” I rub my eyes as I look at him, he seems to have a chill personality, I couldn't help but find him oddly attractive.

I looked downward as I nodded my head, he chuckled as he ruffled my bed hair.

“ Good, the bossman said this mission isn't bad but we have to force the person to spill the beans for more information. ” I nod my head as we begin to talk and we walk into the bar as the boss glare at us.

“ These are your new clothes that giran got you this morning. ” I see the outfit, it looks like a dark purple maroon full bodysuit that has a darker purple corset and big combat boots to match the outfit.

This looks like a villain would wear, I grab it as I feel this might be too distracting..

“ isn't it a bit too small… ” I felt like the suit would hug me too tight and would make me uncomfortable.

Dabi chuckled as he said.” come on kitty~ we wouldn't want the boss to be upset, he picks the right size and aesthetic just for you.. ” I blink fast as I bow my head.

“ my apologies boss, it looks great… thank you sir. ” he nodded his head as I quickly headed into the restroom as I changed into my villain outfit, just as I expected it.

This is too tight and shows off my body a little too much. I feel exposed from this.

I fix my outfit as I walk out feeling embarrassed, head in shame but don't hear any noise as dabi nod his head quietly as he walks out.

“ Ready kitty cat? ”

“ ya know I have a name.. it's not kitty cat, it's (name). ” I hissed at him as he chuckled as I followed behind him.

“ yeah yeah whatever kitty, you're too cute when you're mad. ” I see him give a playful wink as I start to blush, yeah he's definitely gonna be a pain in the ass.

As the minute went to hours, dabi captured our main target as he was tie up in a chair as dabi growl at him aggressively.

“ start talkin’ or ya gonna be bbq chicken in seconds. ” he let his bright blue flame lit up as the man screamed and squirming like he was trying not to let the fire touch his skin.

“ I got this dabi.. ” we were basically doing the good cop and bad cop but I decided to be more seductive and calm.

I gently rub his cheek as I whisper into his ear.

“ Pretty please tell us, we will let you go if you behave well. ” I let out a deep purr sound as I start rubbing his shoulder like a cat would with its owner.

He nodded his head frankly as he started to speak fastly and every detail.. good information.

I pressed a small kiss on his neck as I whispered.

“ good boy~. ” I felt him shiver as I removed myself as dabi smirk and had a super calm demeanor as I raised my brow towards him.

“ a-are you guys letting m-me go?? I already told you the information… please-. ” without warning dabi proceeds to throw blue flame into the poor man's body as the screaming gets higher and slowly dies down as the body turns to black charcoal, unrecognizable…

“ Jesus… Christ dabi, what the…” I cover my mouth as I slowly turn towards dabi as he turns around and says.

“ our job here is done, we don't need him to live.” yeah being a villain is insane work, I gotta at least start getting used to it but it feels so wrong…. Like dabi should have at least removed the tie from him.

“ that was pretty fucked up dabi… he should of least-.” he tilt his head towards me as he chuckled, his hands went to the pockets as he shrugged his shoulder.

“ he would have called his group and attacked us.. think about it kitty, think like a villain, other villains will see us as prime targets, we gotta scare them off and show them not to mess with us.” I pause as I look downward onto the floor, he's right on this.

It's the survival of the fittest, every villain or group of villains have done so without much questioning on it.

I grip my tight suit as I nod my head, I have a small smile.

“ y-yeah you're right.. ”

[prentissluvr]

i dont have all of my sam thots and dean thoughts just yet but I had to send in this bc I completely forgot about meg! sam

and its a damn shame that we didn't see more of that bc it solidified my stance on being a sam girlie

we got at least 3 episodes of demon dean (i have not seen him yet i've only heard about it) but we got like less than half an hour with meg! sam and honestly we deserved more with him

meg! sam made me feel lots of things LOLL

(i wanted to be jo SO BAD in that episode LMAO)

now i need your thots on him please :p

KJDFSJL NO BECAUSE... NOOO I CANT thinking about the amount of meg!sam edits i've seen in the past few days. thinking about the one saved in my camera roll. thinking about throwing up pissing my pants projectile vomiting and passing the fuck out. i reiterate tho, i'm normal!! i'm so so so normal and i don't feel things about it!!!!!!!

i'm honestly still like borderline unsure about how nsfw i want to get on this blog, but uhhh i'm just gonna start typing and see where my dirty fucking mind takes me!

cw : highly suggestive!! no smut, but still absolutely no minors!! MDNI!! contains condescending/mean/possessed sam, but also sweet sam too <33. use of gendered terms, but it is gender inclusive to fem, masc, and gn as much as i could make it! horrible writing it's genuinely just me going feral :))

sooo basically for me the worst (best) part of meg!sam was his voice! it's so bad (never have i ever heard anything hotter in my life). IDK I DONT EVEN THINK I CAN FORM A COHERENT THOUGHT OVER THIS NOT GONNA LIE. uhm uhhh ummmm uhhhh uhmmmm.

so basically so basically, essentially, wwowowowowowowowifjhshf alright lets focus on one thing at a time.

we'll start with that goddamn voice of his. the way it goes from teasing, condescending to deeper, more gravelly and matter-of-fact and then back to condescending LIKE WHOO IM GONNA NEED TO TAKE A LAP. idk just thinking about his large hand on the back of your head, maybe tangled in your hair if the way you wear it allows for that, and his veiny forearm visible through your peripheral vision as he says "open up.. that's a girl" like he did to jo😭😭😭 (or he's says "thaaat's it" to keep things gender neutral, dragging out the "that's" for an extra second, that extra gravel in his condescending tone).

and while this is in possessed!sam context, he'd definitely say things like that normally, i do personally envision him to be less condescending and more sincere. either way, hot as fuck if you ask me. also this isn't meg!sam, but in season seven he says "good girl" and i do listen to that clip several times a day, i am so serious when i say that and i have no shame about it!! i have daddy issues so i do not care!!! so yeah he also says good girl/boy/whatever variation you enjoy best <3 uhmmm yeah but the main point is his hot as fuck voice, right next to your ear with his breath tickling you sensitive skin. especially with that whisper. oh god the whisper😭 and along with "that's a girl," there's atta girl and he'd use that one too so i'll go die in a hole :))) but yeah he genuinely thinks you're so good for him so expect that praise, whether you want it sweet or mean.

then we also have his facial expressions!! the smirk he uses to rile you up or that he flashes you, all mean and haughty because he knows he's getting to you. the fake pity too!! lord help me, once again the utterly fake pity just falls under that condescending persona that was so hot about meg!sam. i'm just gonna use photo evidence and you can imagine him looking at you like that!! enjoy!

last thing i have to say about meg!sam is manhandling!! ahahaahahahaahahah i'm normal and okay!! (this is a cry for help i need him so bad). um yeah while i hate the context of the manhandling of jo in the episode because it's crossing so many boundaries, i will still enjoy the fact that he is hot. so yeah! have fun thinking about sam whirling you around and pinning you between his chest and nearest surface, hand on your forehead to tilt your chin up and give him full access to the skin of your neck. his other hand is pinning your wrist to whatever surface is behind you, and your own free hand is tangled in his hair and he lays wet, desperate kisses all over your neck and collarbone. that's all hahahahaha :)))) feeling so sane right now!!

[dreamweaversfavsandthoughs]

Rick and Morty Season 7 Episode 1 Favs and Thoughts

(and maybe a small rant)

Rick and Morty season 7 has officially begun and this is the first time on this blog I plan on sharing some of my favs (and maybe some not favs) and my thoughts about each episode.

This will NOT be spoiler-free so turn back now if you haven’t watched the episode yet. If you have watched the episode or don’t care if you run across spoilers then please proceed.

My Favs:

The new voice actors!

Ian Cardoni and Harry Belden as Rick and Morty, respectively. I thought the actors did an amazing job at capturing the characters, even though we didn’t hear much from Belden this episode. I was looking them up on IMDB and some of their previous work included being an announcer for Wrestlemania, acting in a really crappy looking Disney Channel Christmas movie, and one of the better gigs, playing a bit part on Joe Pera Talks With You. And now they’re the stars of Rick and Morty. Talk about a big break.

Morty’ s snarky coffee comment and Rick’s sarcasm.

Morty is becoming more like his grandfather every season because that comment feels like something Rick would say. Also, I feel that in such a small scene the banter between Rick and Morty seems a bit richer with two different actors playing off each other as opposed to just having Roiland do the two voices. Hopefully we get some bigger scenes to really get a chance to hear them together.

BirdDaughter!

Ok. To be honest, I’m a little bummed that she was rescued off screen but I’m not going to let that ruin my enjoyment of the season. So she is home and she is an absolute teenage terror! BP took a dive into the deep end of the parenting pool with that one. Others have made this comment as well but I love her punk rock aesthetic that she’s got going on, ahold over from her days at Femme Fatale Training Camp. I hope Morty never meets her because I think he would be SMITTEN for approximately 10 seconds until she kicked his ass to another dimension (or she might be just as smitten by him and in that case I don’t think the multiverse could handle that relationship).

Ghost Robot

I thought it was really clever joke overall especially when Rick interrupts the download for “Business” so it’s unfinished. Get it huh huh get it. Hope he shows up later in the season.

The gangs all back!

I enjoyed the absolute silliness of Rick’s pitiful attempt at an intervention that turns into a drug and alcohol fueled bender that turns into an attempt to woo Amy back, a fight with Mr. PBH’s ex-wife’s new paramour ( who is a Predator hired to spy on her) and then coming to the realization that Amy has moved on and her and Poopy Jr. are in a much happier place, and because of that, Mr. PBH (or Wayne) can find closure in that and move on too.

The fade out pills and the Best Friend Burrito Box

I was giggling throughout the episode but I did love the fade out pill gag and Rick fading back in to explain the pill and give one to Mr. PBH then fading back out again. Also, I was so sad for Gene to get his Best Friend Burrito Box taken away! He wasn’t lying! He did have friends they just faded out without him.

My Not Favs:

Hugh Jackman.

I love the actor and this by no means pulled me out of the episode or ruined my enjoyment but I think the episode would have been stronger without him. Or, at least, have him actually secretly been a real wolverine. Not the superhero, Wolverine, but a wolverine that disguised himself as a human.

My Thoughts

(and my rant):

I think online discourse around film, television, and media has destroyed the ability to enjoy something that is just meant to be simple and silly and fun. If an episode of a season is not “mind-blowing” or “moves the narrative forward” it is immediately the worse thing ever. Was this the best episode of Rick and Morty? No. Was it the worse? No. Was it mind-blowing? No, but most Rick and Morty episodes aren’t and I realize I just said something sacrilegious. Was it deeply philosophical? Again no, but most Rick and Morty episodes aren’t. Again I’m being blasphemous in some circles of the fandom. Was it funny? I thought so but your mileage may vary.

Overall, I found it on the same level of episodes like the one were Morty impregnates a sex bot, 2nd interdimensional cable, Tiny Rick, or the dinosaur episode from last season. So I was really surprised at such a strong negative reaction to an episode that I thought was perfectly fine. I feel that the reaction was completely unwarranted and out of proportion with the episode we got. I’ll caveat it with most of the negative reaction being on Reddit ( which I realize is Reddit and Reddit will do what it will do). A vast majority of critic reviews I read were pretty positive and so has the discourse on Tumblr for the most part. I’m sure some of it is coming from Justin dickriders pissed he face actually consequences for his actions, but not all of it.

I felt the new episode would have fit very comfortably in with season 6 ( which I felt was a great season). Maybe it wasn’t to the level as other premiers but I had fun watching it. I love me a deep lore episode or a mind-bending sci-fi, but I also appreciate an episode that suppose to just be fun and silly and relaxed with a little bit of heart. I enjoy seeing Rick try to help his friend out of a rut and I’m glad there is some closure on Mr. PBH’s arc. And it was good to see the friends reunite. Squanchy’s alive, Birdperson is navigating fatherhood and we got to see a side of Rick we don’t see a lot. And if it’s any consolation to those who absolutely hated the episode, next week’s episode is supposedly a lot stronger.

I think it’s okay to criticize an episode but I did see one Redditor complain that he thought (and I feel comfortable assuming this person was a he) that Rick and Morty was now turning into…a sitcom. I swear I felt my soul leave my body. I wanted to say :

Honey, Dear, Sweetheart

WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’VE BEEN WATCHING FOR THE LAST TEN YEARS!

I’m not actually mad I just thought that was hilarious and wanted to share that.

[littlehypnone]

Hi hi! When I found out this existed I half bout fell out my chair. I love all the writing you have and I’m so excited for more. You’re actually one of the people that inspired me to write on my own blog

I was wondering if you had any ideas about cg Copia? Maybe he wants to help out but he’s nervous at first and the ghouls are helping him but it turns out he’s an absolute natural at it?

Just a thought. Again super excited to read more of your work!

-🍁

first of all whaaa that makes me so happy i was one of the people who inspired you!!! second of all its really short and im sorry about it but i totally did not have any idea, i dont really write papas so my brain didn't want a cooperate. but also i have it written in my pinned that i dont really write papas for requests ahsfhagsf

He didn’t take it the best, at first. He felt very much out of place. Not because he thought it was something bad or wrong, he just… he was just confused. His wires may have gotten a bit crossed and even though he was great with children, he wasn’t doing the best with little ghouls. At first.

Being a natural that he was, he got past his initial surprise pretty quickly, and soon enough he was a professional caregiver, loved by the littles.

This time, he ended up with Dewdrop, a happy little creature, all warm and giggly that day. They went through a part of the morning together and Copia had to mentally hype himself up to be ready to face a lunchtime Dewdrop. He was cute, but he was a monster.

“Can we do it without both of us needing a shower this time?” he teased, booping the tip of the little ghoul’s nose and watching him go cross eyed. “Hm, Mostriciattolo?” (Little monster.)

“Yara!” Dewdrop cheered. At least his expression implied that, because Copia only knew a few words of ghoulish and this wasn’t one of them.

“I just hope you’re not insulting me,” he chuckled and went on preparing some light lunch for the both of them. When they—or rather Copia—was done, he sat Dewdrop on his lap and sighed, looking up at the ceiling and pitying it already. “Behave, please. It’s just food. Food that you like, piccolo diavoletto.” (Little devil.)

The fire ghoul giggled and blew a raspberry before poking Copia’s cheek, “Yara.”

“Yes, yes,” he nodded and got to feeding Dewdrop his lunch. A few hours later when he was napping, Swiss came over. Copia remembered the word the little ghoul kept repeating and decided to ask Swiss about it.

“What’s the word?”

“I think it was yaro? Or yara,” Copia told him and watched the multi ghoul’s grin grow in real time. “What? What does it mean?”

“Little gremlin called you old, pops,” Swiss laughed.

Copia furrowed his brows, looking down at the ghoul in his arms in disbelief, and whisper-shouted, “You menace! You’re centuries older than me!”

“Not now,” Swiss chuckled and patted his shoulder. “Now he can call you old all he wants.”

[liliallowed]

kinda feel like a hypocrite for saying a I support Palestine by...

not doing anything. I'm tired. I'm sure they're more tired but I can't have that conversation every time.

I want to tell people I care without it coming off as flattery or me giving them useless sympathy.

they don't need my sadness they don't get shot done with me talking about my emotions.

I CANT HELP YOU.

sharing has yet to yeild results in the reblogs chain and I do not have the means OR THE FUNDS to transfer money that I myself PLAN TO USE TO GET OUT IF THIS SHITHOLE someday.

I don't care at this point if they're bots echoing the sorrow of former people and families.

to me they all count as real but since I can never go far enough to donate myself I never check... and when I do I'm a dumbass.

for Palestinian people... I don't understand your pain. at least not yet. not until we're also at war. but I do understand D R E A D.

I understand fear. living in constant fear of your own safety.

and I'm sorry to turn you empty handed. I feel ashamed of having nothing to say. I cannot donate. I'm not even from America I'm around your own doomed neighboring countries.

be it bots or real people... I don't care anymore the stories blend together with the copy-pasted forms...

I'm tired. and you're probably also tired of trying to prove yourself. to a website that is so strange and foreign. a place where people don't speak the same as you and talk mostly about movies or their favorite show.

but you came here regardless to ask for help.

I don't think I would. and talking as if "I understand your pain" feels so disgusting and disingenuous. I don't. I can only speculate. I am horrified.

I once talked to a Palestinian man who told me about his niece his brother's family and each of their stories. he had a job. he was a computer science major and worked in an office.

that interaction felt so... pure so personal. and they only asked for art. no payment no donation. just something to remember their family by.

I was conflicted. was this an nft scam? they wouldn't go this far for a drawing...

wherever that drawing exists...

I feel like that was the one good thing I was able to to do personally with my own hands.

I forgot their name. was it Ahmad? we have similar sounding names here too.

that name could have been the same name as my brother or my uncle.

and each time they ask I am faced with this empty pit in my stomach... that this is another empty copy-pasted message.

please... stop sending me pictures of your dying children. it hurts. it hurts to see their faces because they LOOK like my relatives.

but if my condolences mean anything to you then I'll be open to talk any time. but best get a better help than waste the limited wi-fi and internet with talking to a hypocrite like me.

please.

stop.

because I know if I don't leave those pictures will be me and my loved ones one day.

please stop. go away.

I stand with Palestine but I can't help you. I can't share. it hurts me. it hurts me to look. it messes with my mind.

and a sinister thought cones to mind.

one that I'd see people being their skinny children on the street to get pity. abusive parents who use their kids as bait for people gullible and kind enough to offer them change.

ones who are beaten if they bring back food instead of money.

a sinister doubt that all humans are deceptive by nature.

and that thing stole your life your death and your face to make profit from it.

I need proof. I need you to tell me your daughters favorite flower. I need you to tell me what your brothers favorite activity was.

I need... SOMETHING anything.

please.

I don't want to block Palestinian blogs. I'm so sorry.