#way longer than i wanted but im hoping i can actually finish my next haunt chapter now this is out of my head

[hexxedghost]

GhostSoap Sickfic Thread

Another crosspost from bluesky, hopefully this will help me get out of the writing funk I've been in. Please enjoy~

They’d made good time, the travel had been mostly silent, aside from the fog of their breaths clouding the air and the scattering crunch of snow beneath their feet. It’d been a straight forward mission, sniper duo set up. It had been a lot of waiting, but they’d had a clean hit on the target and a cleaner getaway.

Their vehicle slid for a second, the ground beneath the tyres thick with icy mud. The cold was seeping in, to the car, the heavy snowfall had shifted to sleet lashing against the windows with that harsh rasp of quickly melting ice tossed in rainwater. Soap leans forward, squinting out the window, while Ghost tries to keep them on the excuse of a dirt road they’re driving on.

They had a safehouse to take shelter in while they waited for updates from Price on their extraction. It wasn’t far at least, and the heavy rain would cover their tracks well. Still a pain in the bollocks to drive in.

“I see it.” Soap says, pointing through the windscreen. There’s a vague shape, a shadow larger than the surrounding trees. Ghost cuts the wheel in that direction, cruising as the gears grind when he shifts.

“Told you I shoulda driven.” Soap says, grin widening when Ghost glares at him.

“Enough outta you,” he mutters, as the car awkwardly slides and he pulls the handbrake.

He hops out the car, grinning to himself as Soap lets out a quiet shriek as the freezing rain hits him.  

“Cold, Johnny?” he asks over his shoulder, not bothering to hide the smugness in his voice. 

“Aye, we’re no’ all wearin hoodies are we?” Soap grumbles back. “Fuckin’ prick.”

He can hear the squelch of boots behind him and knows Soap’s following him.  

It’s not far, but they still end up drenched by the time Ghost is opening up the door, shoving inside and leaving puddles in the entryway. He moves further inside, quickly checking corners before radioing Price that they’ve arrived. Soap is clattering around somewhere, mumbling to himself as he fiddles with the heating. Price tells them to hang tight for a bit, he’ll keep them updated. Ghost radios back to affirm, taking stock of the hideout. It was well provisioned, enough supplies for at least a few weeks if it came to that. 

There’s a loud curse from the other room. Not panicked, frustrated. He finds Soap crouched in front of the heater. 

“It’s working, there’s no much heat from it though.” Soap says, looking up at Ghost from his spot on the floor. 

“Better than nowt.” Ghost shrugs, nudging open the door to the bedroom. He wants to get out of these wet clothes. His mask is damp as it sits across his skin, every inhale choking as the fabric clings to his nose and mouth. And his hoodie hadn’t fared much better under his tac-gear. 

Soap sticks his head around the door. “Do they anything in big bastard size?”

Ghost pelts a shirt at his face, the bastard just cackles. What’s worse, is that Soap’s right. Most of the clothes would fit Soap, but Ghost would be hard pressed to manage any of the shirts without ripping them. 

“Fucksake.” he closes the drawer. He doesn’t have a spare mask on him, and he doesn’t really relish the idea of stripping down to his skivvies if they end up having to leave in a few hours. He tugs his mask away from his mouth and nose at least, finally taking a breath that didn’t feel like it left water in his lungs. 

He tugs off the tac-vest and the hoodie at least, draping it over the back of a chair in the hopes of it drying out. Soap’s rattled through some cupboards and thrown…something into a pot to heat up. 

“Get us a cuppa, will ya?” Ghost calls out, holding his hands out near the heater after pulling his gloves off with his teeth. His circulation was shit, leaving his hands and feet vulnerable to the cold. Soap’s complaining in the kitchen, rambling on, but he presses a hot mug into Ghost’s hands not too long afterwards. 

He holds it between his palms, letting the heat leech in and return some feeling to his fingers. 

“Ta.” he mumbles into the cup as he takes a sip. The tea’s shit, Soap’s always is, but at least it’s warm. Soap holds out the saucepan of food, the spoon sliding against the metal with the motion. It’s edible, though Ghost couldn’t really say anything more about it, just mechanically chewing and swallowing without bothering to taste it.

His skin still feels clammy. When Soap’s shoulder bumps against him, it nearly burns, heat radiating off the Scot. He always ran hot, but not this hot. Soap’s flicked on the TV, and is chattering away, Ghost lets the words wash over him, keeping his ears honed for a crackle from their radios but settling into a hazy state as he stares blankly at the screen. At some point, his eyelids grow heavy. 

-

Soap looks to his right, words trailing off as he sees Ghost has fallen asleep, elbows resting on his knees. Isn’t the strangest position any of them have slept in, fuck, he’s seen Price sleep standing in the heli before. 

But it was odd for Ghost to sleep without sorting watch first. As his arm brushes against Ghost’s he frowns. The skin felt damp, and clammy. The water must have soaked through his gear faster than he’d thought. Soap mulls that thought over as he gets to his feet, and gently moves the big bastard so he’s lying down at least.

It’s always a delicate exercise, attempting to move Ghost in his sleep. Partly the sheer weight of him, but also his tendency to lash out if you jolted him awake. They’d worked enough ops together that Soap’s an old hand at it now, managing to settle Ghost into the couch without incident.

Guess he’s got first watch then. He gathers up the leftovers and dumps them in the fridge that buzzes in the corner of the yellowed kitchen. Most of the house is still dim, they’d not wanted too many lights in case anyone had managed to track them. He sets up by the window, debating opening it before looking at the near horizontal rain outside. Fuck it. He lights up a smoke, snagging an old can for an ashtray and watches in the sleeted gloom for anything that might cause alarm. But there’s nothing. Just this tiny corner of dry amongst the sodden hills.

-

Ghost stirs a few hours later, sitting up and blinking around blearily.

“Left me to fend for us then, LT. You must have been shattered.” Soap says brightly from his perch by the window. Ghost seems to frown at him before nodding, sluggish. Soap frowns himself. “You weren’t injured, were ye?” he asks, getting a shake of the head and a muttered grumble in response. Still, he seems pretty out of it. Maybe he’d just hit the wall, happened sometimes, adrenaline fading to leave you feeling wrung out like a crumbled paper bag.

“Go sleep some more. Reckon we’re in the clear, still phishing it doon.” Soap gestures to the window, where the rain is falling in angry sheets, slapping against the window. There’s no argument, just the creak of the couch as Ghost heaves himself to his feet. His steps sound unsteady as he stumbles towards the door, bumping into the doorway. 

“Yer awake, aren’t ye? No’ sleepwalking?” Soap teases, but there’s a prickle of unease. It’s out of character for Ghost. Even if they were taking shelter in a safehouse, Ghost didn’t really let that steely awareness drop until they’d been back on base for a day or two. There’s no response, just a dull thud of a body hitting a mattress and soft groan. 

Soap cuts his eyes back to the window, but keeps his ears sharp, just in case. Something about it doesn’t sit right with him. 

-

After a few more hours, Soap decides to catch a nap on the couch now that it’s free. The rain still hasn’t let up, and he can see deep troughs of water going by the house. The valley below them was probably flooding at this rate. At least they wouldn’t have to worry about hostiles finding them. 

He radios Price to update him, jaw cracking with a yawn as he does so. Price tells them to sit tight, as long as they held here, they’d be fine. All else fails, they’d have Nikolai do a flyby to extract them when the skies cleared. 

There’s a loud thud somewhere in the house that has adrenaline course through him, eyes sharp and hands immediately grabbing for a weapon. Silently padding down the hallway, he pauses at the bathroom door. 

“Ghost?” he calls quietly. There’s another thud, but he can hear the familiar rasp behind the door, though the words are unintelligible. The handle is cool under his palm as he twists it, peeking his head around the door. “Fuck, ye alright?” he slips inside, kneeling beside Ghost where he’s splayed on the ground. Ghost is still mumbling something, but he can’t make any of it out. 

“Alright, let’s get ye up, aye?” he gets his arms under Ghost’s and manages to get him sitting up. Ghost still feels damp, even through the undershirt he’s got on. It’s got that odd sort of bodywarm feeling that tells Soap it’s not water but sweat. 

He crouches in front of him, and Ghost manages to look at him, eyes still bleary and unfocused. 

“S’too hot.” he finally manages to say. Soap nods, tugging at the fabric. 

“Let’s get those off ye, aye? Cool down.” he murmurs gently. Ghost scoffs, but it makes a horrible rattling noise. 

“Trying to get into my pants, Johnny?” he scoffs, but his voice skips out, throat sounding dry and raspy. 

“You wouldn’t know what to do with me in this state, LT.” Soap smiles, but it lacks the usual humour. Ghost seems pretty disorientated, limbs heavy and uncoordinated as he tries to assist in getting the shirt off. As Soap checks him over, it's pretty clear Ghost is sick. His skin feels warm and feverish under the clammy sweat, and his voice is becoming more raspy as he mumbles. 

“S’warm.” Ghost says, and without ceremony tugs his mask off, letting his head thump back against the cool tiles. 

Soap tries not to stare, pale lashes and freckled skin in his peripheral as he leans over and turns the shower on. 

“We’ll get you cooled off.” he says, awkwardly shuffling Ghost around until he’s sat on the tiles in the shower. He keeps the water lukewarm to start, not wanting to shock him with a sudden blast of cold. 

There’s a heavy, rattling sigh from Ghost as the water hits him, eyes clenched shut as he curls in on himself. Soap wets a cloth and wipes down some of the sweat still clinging to him, slowly adjusting the water to something more tepid. 

“Yer alright, eh?” Soap murmurs, pushing back Ghost’s hair to check his temperature again. It’come down a bit, though Ghost’s eyes are still glassy when they look at him. Soap shuts off the water, grabbing a threadbare towel. The air is still cool, even with the heater on in the living room, and he reckons the chill is what got the poor bastard sick in the first place. 

He’s towelling off Ghost’s hair when the bigger man’s forehead thumps against his chest. 

“Don’ feel good.” he utters so quietly, Soap nearly misses it. He cards a hand through his hair sympathetically, he was in a bad state the poor sap. 

“Let’s get you to bed then, eh Ghost?” he says gently, eyes quickly taking stock of what the bathroom has. There are painkillers, at least, for the fever. There might have been honey in the kitchen cupboards when he was rifling through them.

“Buy us a drink first.” Ghost slurs into his collarbone as he slumps forward. Soap sighs, at this stage Ghost was going to be no help. At least if he was making shitty jokes, he was probably feeling marginally better. 

He groans as he manages to wrestle Ghost to his feet, mostly draped over Soap’s back, his feet proving to be unsteady beneath him. 

By the time he stumbles to the bedroom, he’s practically carrying Ghost, complaining under his breath while Ghost seems determined to be as useless as possible. The mattress protests with a loud squeak as he tosses Ghost down onto it, catching his breath before returning to the bathroom. 

“Take those, and drink that if ye can.” he says, setting the glass and painkillers beside him. It takes a few seconds for the words to register, but at least there are no protests from Ghost.

“What’re you doin’?” Ghost asks, head lolling to the side. 

“Helpin ye.” Soap tells him. He’d have to tell Price, in case it got worse. The skin under his palm feels scalding when he checks again, and when Ghost shifts to burrow himself under the blankets, he feels like a bit of a prick when he pries them from tightly clenched fingers. 

“S’cold.” Ghost growls, glaring at him. 

Soap rolls his eyes with a sigh. “You’ll fuckin cook, Ghost.”

He finds a threadbare sheet that seems light enough as a compromise. Ghost snatches it and curls up under it, sniffing loudly and is asleep again within moments. 

Soap snags his comms from the living room, and gets a hold of Price. The rain’s still saturating the area, so they’ll have to bunker down for a while. Though Price does seem concerned when Soap mentions he’s sick. 

“Not injured?”

“No, we got away clean. Bad flu or something, think it might be from the rain. We got soaked.” Soap says, going through the cupboards again. There is a lone jar of honey tucked away that he pulls out. 

“Alright, take care of him.” Price says, voice crackling. 

“As if I wouldn’t.” Soap points out easily, digging out some tea. Given how croaky Ghost had sounded, tea would probably be a good idea when he woke up. Price is quiet for a while, before finally telling him he’d keep Nik on standby, they’d get them once they had a window. Soap frowns to himself, the silence being odd, but shrugs it off. Price was probably just eager to get them back on base. 

-

He checks in on Ghost throughout the rest of the day. For the most part, the man just seems to sleep, dozing and sometimes muttering to himself. Eventually he shakes him awake, food places on the small table beside the bed. 

“Ye need to eat something.” he says quietly. Ghost’s eyes are glassy as they stare up at him, blinking slowly. 

Soap puts an arm around his shoulders and helps him sit up, passing the bowl of food over once he’s sure Ghost isn’t going to drop it. 

“What’re you doin’?” Ghost asks, mumbling around the spoon. 

“Takin care of ye, ye dafty.” he slips the back of his hand against Simon’s neck. “Least your temperature’s come down a bit.”

“Why?” 

“Painkillers helped, probably. And not letting you cocoon yourself in blankets.” Soap says. The bowls empty, which is a relief, at least Ghost is keeping food down. He sets water and hands painkillers over, nudging Ghost’s hand when he doesn’t take them. Eventually, he looks up and sees Ghost looking at him. His mask is still off, and it’s strange to see him barefaced. The squint to his eyes in familiar but seeing the rest of his face tense with expression is something he can’t help but watch. Though there are heavy bags under his eyes, skin reddened from rubbing at the tacky feeling. 

“What?” he asks, he’s been staring too long and distracts himself by pushing Ghost’s hand so he actually takes the next dose of painkillers. 

Ghost does, draining most of the water afterwards and coughing to clear his throat. 

“Why’re ya taking care of me?” he croaks. 

“Cos you need it.” Soap says easily, confusion drawing his brows into a frown. Ghost doesn’t seem to know what to do with that answer, sitting there listlessly until Soap gently tips him onto his side and tells him to go back to sleep. 

-

The next day, he walks into the kitchen and nearly shits himself at seeing the looming figure hunched over the counter. 

“Fuckin’ hell Ghost. Nearly made me heart stop.” Soap cries, hand pressing hard against the rapid thump under his ribs. Ghost reaches out with a heavy hand and tries to grab a cup, that slips through his stiff fingers and shatters on the floor. 

“Fuck.” it was probably meant to be a shout, but with how swollen Ghost’s throat sounds, it came out a more of a weak rasp. 

“Ye could have just said something, ye stupid prick.” he chides, using his heavy boots to kick away most of the shards. He rests a hand on Ghost’s shoulder, but it’s quickly shaken off. 

“Gerroff. Can do it myself.” Ghost sounds…well like he’s trying to be angry. It’s coming out closer to grumpy. Still, he’s clearly irritated. 

“Shouldn’t have to, though.” Soap says, setting a hip against the counter. He wonders if it’s the weakness that bothers him, or having to rely on other people. Neither are things Ghost tends to allow, out of sheer stubbornness most likely. Soap’s the same when he’s sick, so it’s not like he’ll begrudge him that. 

Still, he’s being an idiot. 

“Would ye just go and fuckin rest? You’ll make it worse.” he tries, hoping rational thought would win out. It doesn’t. 

“Used to takin care of meself. Don’t need your help” Ghost mutters, glaring at the countertop.

“Too bad, you’ve got it anyway.” Soap says, crossing his arms and giving Ghost a look. Soap was the more stubborn of them, quicker to let his temper flare. But when Ghost actually worked up to anger, he was the most infuriating bastard to deal with. Nothing would shift him if he set his mind to something.  

“Fucks sake, will ye let me take care of ye, Simon?” he huffs out a breath, frustrated. Ghost ignores him, pushing away from the counter and staggering back towards the bedroom, the door slamming behind him.

Soap throws up his hands. “Fuckin sulk then, ye oversized bairn.”  he mutters to himself, staring to clean up the shards that glittered on the floor. 

-

The rain was still pelting down outside. Soap thinks the only reason half the mountain hasn’t slid down with it, is because of the dense forest just above them, old roots tying the earth together tightly. 

Ghost had mostly kept to the bedroom, though Soap hadn’t heard movement in a while. As much as it might lead to them snapping at each other, he still knocks and calls out. 

“Ye alright?” he waits and, hearing no response, opens the door slightly and peeks around. “Ye dead?” he teases, but doesn’t get a response from that either. There’s a lump of blankets in the middle of the bed, and when he shifts one to peek in, there’s Ghost curled up in a ball. 

“Ye still feeling shite?” Soap guesses. Ghost just sniffles miserably in response. Soap rubs his shoulder sympathetically. “Wait here. I’ll get ye something.” 

He’s in the kitchen for maybe 10 minutes, using his hip to push the door open. When he looks up, Ghost still hasn’t moved from his huddled position. 

“Figured soup would help, for yer throat.” he says casually, placing the bowl down and sitting on the corner of the bed. . 

“Hate being sick.” Ghost says to the mattress, voice muffled. 

“Aye. Don’t think many people like it.” Soap says, smiling when Ghost glare at him from under his arm. “Reckon you can eat that?” 

Ghost doesn’t answer, just sits up and stubborn, grabs the bowl, draining most of it without bothering with the spoon. 

“Fuckin goblin. I got ye a spoon and everything.” Soap teases, flicking him in the side when he glares again. 

His gaze is drawn to the window, where the rain still pelts down outside. There’d been a few moments of just hazy clouds, but it seems to be going strong. 

“Me mam used to make me chicken noodle when I was sick. Cannae eat it anymore now, tastes like snot to me.”

“Charming.” Ghost’s voice echoes back from the bowl.

“Ye don’t have foods like that? Ye eat too much of it when yer sick?” Soap leans back on his elbow, swinging his leg off the edge of the bed.

Ghost shakes his head. “Wouldn't know. Jus’ took care of it meself.”

Oh right. Well now Soap feels like a tit for brining it up. “How ye feeling?”

“Annoyed that you keep asking that,” Ghost shoots back. At least the food seemed to have given him some energy.

“Stop being sick then.” Soap teases, nudging Ghost’s thigh with his elbow, grinning.

“Fuck off,” the words don’t have any heat to them and Soap’s grin just widens, though he lets out a squawk when Ghost shoves him off the bed in retaliation.

“Yer a child, ye know that?” he says, rubbing at where he’d hit his arse on the bed frame on the way down. Ghost gives him the finger from where he’s cocooned himself in blankets again.

“Either way, shove over.” Soap says, motioning with his hands.

Ghost sticks his head out from the blanket, hair tousled and pointing in odd directions. He squints at him. “Wha’?”

“I’m no’ sleeping on the couch again, me backs broke with it.” Soap says, flopping down on the bed. “Ye can keep your naffy blanket, probably more sweat than fabric at this rate.” he kicks his boots off and shifts down the bed. He’d mostly been doing it to annoy Ghost, but he finds himself drifting off after a few minutes. 

-

When he wakes up, Ghost has curled into him, forehead pressed against his neck. His fever has broken, but there’s still a wheezing rattle somewhere in his chest.  

He shifts and Ghost grabs him, snuffling in his sleep in a way that should be gross, but instead Soap finds it endearing. Gaz had already teased him for his not so subtle crush on their lieutenant. Soap had questionable taste in men, apparently. 

As Ghost hacks up phlegm onto this shirt and instead of feeling sickened, Soap’s heart melts in his chest, he thinks Gaz might have a point. Christ, he was gone on him. 

He tries not to think about the trust It’s about the trust, really. It doesn’t come easy, particularly for Ghost. But he knows the trust between them runs deep. The fact that Ghost hadn’t put his mask back on, sure he was sick and overheated, but he was a stubborn enough prick that he would risk cooking his brain just out of spite. 

Soap runs a hand through Ghost’s sweatdamp hair. There’s a small pained noise from the other man, burrowing deeper into the hollow of Soap’s throat. He’d probably hit the aches stage of the illness then. Was always the part Soap hated most, besides the sore throat. Not being able to complain about being sick often left him more agitated and snapping at anyone near him. 

He presses a small kiss to Ghost’s hair as a particularly painful sounding cough racks through him, mumbling soft murmurs to his temple to try soothe him. 

Through the water stained grey of the clouds, he can see the sky becoming lighter. 

“Yer still taking care of me.” Ghost slurs into his collarbone, the last coughing fit apparently waking him up. 

“Aye.” Soap says simply, his hands still gently carding through Ghost’s hair. 

“Not used to it.” he shifts slightly but doesn’t try to move away. 

Soap doesn’t know if it's the flu or the early hour that seem to have loosened Ghost’s tongue. He’s not normally this free with his words, preferring instead to hide behind jokes and the occasional brutal jab of honesty that left you reeling from the impact.

“Figured with how stubborn ye are. Had to fight ye for it” he teases letting his eyelids blink heavily. They could probably both do with a bit more sleep. 

Ghost tucks himself closer, heaving a phlegm sigh again, before simply saying. “Ye were kissing me. On the ‘ead.”

Soap doesn’t feel tired anymore, his stomach dropping for a moment. 

“Sorry, won't do it again.” he apologises, shifting his hand away when Ghost grabs it and puts it back in his hair. 

“Liked it, was nice” he croaks. 

“Oh.” Soap waits a moment, before resuming what he now realises is basically patting Ghost’s head. “Alright then”

The sun has risen, the slow inching of light through the clouds matching the deeper breaths coming from Ghost as he fallen asleep again. Soap soon follows suit. 

-

It’s later in the day when Soap awakens. Ghost is still a warm, heavy weight draped over him, but when he cranes his neck to look down at him, whisky coloured eyes peer back up at him. 

“You wanna shift it, I’ll make us a cuppa?” Soap asks, nudging Ghost’s side with his knee. Ghost doesn’t move at first, but eventually rolls off the side with a grumble, burrowing under blankets again. 

Soap hisses as his bare feet touch the floor, the cold having seeped into the wood overnight. The rains starting to let up though, more of light drizzle than the torrential downpour that had become background noise over the last days. 

He sets the tea on the bedside table, stepping lightly when he hears Ghost snoring beneath the blankets. Least he was actually getting some sleep. 

He dug out the comms unit, and waited for Price to radio back. Apparently the forecast was looking good, if the weather kept clearing up they’d have Nik swing by tomorrow. The valley below had flooded, but they were well above the danger zone at least. 

He ducks back into the bedroom after fiddling with the heater again. Ghost is sitting up in bed, the cup held between his palms. 

“This from you, then?” he asks, raising the mug in Soap’s direction as he sits on the bed. 

“Nah, that could have been anyone.” Soap grins, “Someone could have broken in, the only race of them is that cup of tea.” he stage-whispers, still smiling at the unimpressed look Ghost gives him. 

“Know you made it.” he says after taking a sip, “It tastes like shit.” 

“Oi!” Soap swipes at him. “Make yer own then, cheeky.” 

“Didn’t say I didn't want it,” Ghost says, stubbornly holding onto the mug and hunching over it.  Soap laughs, fiddling with the corner of the blanket. Ghost drains the rest of the cup before settling back, quietly observing him for a while before he finally speaks. 

“You fancy me.”

It isn’t a question, so Soap doesn’t treat it like one. Instead, he just shrugs, rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck. 

“Aye.”

“Always seemed like the type to go after what you want, Johnny?” Ghost raises an eyebrow. 

And he’s a fucking sight, isn’t he? The mask is still off, the pale light through the window makes it seem as though he’s glowing, pale skin littered with raised scars. He wishes he could capture the way Ghost looks right now, soft and sleepy eyed, the sharp intelligence in honeyed eyes flicking over him. 

“Worried about what I’d lose if I did.” Soap eventually manages to get out, throat feeling tight. It feels like his toes are hanging over a precipice, like another step will change everything. 

“Not gonna lose anything, Johnny.” Ghost says with a tilt of his head. 

“You sure about that?” Soap mumbles nervously. 

“Not going anywhere.” is the even reply, no skip in the words, just steady and true. 

Fuck it. He trusts Ghost. And if this ends up going tits up, he trusts him enough that they’ll figure it out somehow. They always do. 

He clambers over Ghost’s legs, hands digging into his shoulders as he brings their mouths together, teeth clacking at the bad angle. He doesn’t care. 

“I’ll get you sick.�� Ghost mumbles against his lips. Soap kisses him again anyway. 

“You’ll just have to take care of me next time, eh?” he whispers back, dragging Ghost back to press every unsaid word into his skin. 

-

They’re back on base for a few days, when it finally happens. 

“Jesus Tav, you right?” Gaz says, glancing over after the sneeze. 

“I dinnae wanna be sick.” he complains, eyes feeling hot and tacky. 

“You look like shit.” Price says, looking concerned as Soap coughs so hard he sounds like he might dislocate a rib. 

“Warned you.” Ghost says, nudging him with a shoulder. Soap glares at him, but the warm mug of tea pressed into his hands feels like an apology. 

Later that night, when Soap’s hacking up a lung, eyes streaming and nose running, there’s a gentle hand rubbing at his back. 

“Hate being sick.”

“Reckon everyone does.” Ghost chides, as Soap half-heartedly glares at him. There’s a kiss pressed to Soap’s temple, and patient hands helping him back to bed. 

“Cannae be fucked with this, Simon.” Soap groans, curling into a ball. 

Ghost runs a gentle hand through his mohawk, “S’alright, I’ll take care of you.”

[rocicrew]

for the questions for fic writers: 1, 42, 48, 49, 50

1. What fic of yours would you recommend to someone who had never read any of your work? (In other words, what do you think is the best introduction to your fics?)

hmm that's a tough question, i feel like i've written several prompts that are an easy read so that can be a quick introduction to how i view certain characters and their dynamic. and then it kind of depends what kind of pairing they're more interested in, although the majority of them are naomi centric.  i think ultimately, maybe either of the fics i've that's about naomi and filip (her life in her hands, her life's life in her hands & the way the old life haunts the new). bc they center the topics of loss and trauma and finding a way to live with it anyway and it is a theme i'm very interested in exploring with my writing.

42. Have you ever received a comment that particularly stood out to you for whatever reason?

amdnd it's one of yours actually, again we're going with her life in her hands, her life's life in her hands (i do have a soft spot for this fic despite) i was still v new to sharing my writing and it was a feat to write something that touched those themes and attempt to capture naomi's complexity in such emotions so you telling me i captured that tension really gave me a boost when i was still very unsure of my writing so thank you for that.

48. What’s the last fic you read? Do you recommend it?

i reread oh, body, be held now by whom you love today which does a lovely work of the push and pull naomi goes through between being guarded and allowing herself vulnerable, of shutting down instinctually and opening herself up again as a way to mend that gap during the preparation to go to ilus.  it had this line; "It’s about building something out of loss." which is fit right into my emotions after making that last gifset. the fic also does a great job of writing the intimacy between naomi and holden and i absolutely recommend it.

49. What are you currently working on? Share a few lines if you’re up for it!

the only wip i currently have, and it's been sitting on my docs for roughly a year has been a draolden drabble that i started after 6x06 and for some reason i have been stuck on even though it's something i'm both interested in and would like for that to be the next thing i finish and upload. maybe it's because it's been there for such a long time that i'm not sure whether to scrap it and start over or just polish some details and add some small things and post it already. oh i also have another from those kissing prompts but i haven't started it yet. and actually i think i have one nolden one but that's more fleeting vibes than proper fic.

i think i've posted an excerpt before but here's a diff one:

“Mhmm, all three of us know that I’m very hot. But, mi pensa, you’re a liar,” Naomi hummed and Drummer looked almost offended at that. But Naomi’s gaze softened as it lifted to meet hers. “You can tell me the truth,” she continued.

“I don’t know if this will work.”

Naomi tried to sit up, because that needed a conversation between them. Jim grumbled slightly at her movement and tried to pull her flush to him. That meant he hadn't fallen asleep but was edging towards consciousness. Part of her hoped he would wake up so she wouldn't have to have this conversation alone. It battled with the part of her that wanted him to catch up for all the sleep he lost. 

“Us? Or the negotiations?”

50. Answer any question of your choice, or talk about anything you want to talk about!

okay, so this isn't a question necessarily but something i'd like to do with my writing so im putting it here in hope i'll actually make it happen. which isn't something big, it's that i want to attempt one day to write a longer multi chapter which isn't something huge but it can be a fun challenge.

[zentherainbowunicorn]

hey, bet you've got a whole bunch of asks just floating in out of your inbox like this already, buuut do you think you'll ever finish everlasting party? or even just do writing for the fandom again? your writing pieces were all so captivating and so beautifully characterized and JUST INCREDIBLE. even if you decide not to get back into writing it mind maybe giving some hints on how you planned for the story to go BECAUSE IM LITERALLY DYING TO KNOW. binge read the whole thing in one night and can't get over it!

You know, you’ve given me a great excuse to finally write a post about this anon, ‘cause I have a surprising amount to say on the topic ^^ But first, thank you so much for your kind words! I do look back fondly at the things I wrote for the Mystic Messenger fandom and I’m really glad you’ve enjoyed reading them as well.

So, here’s a Q&A-style answer to things I get asked about Everlasting Party and what I’m doing in the MysMe fandom nowadays (after the cut):

Why did you stop writing Everlasting Party?

At the time I believe I’d gotten rather overwhelmed with school work and decided to put off writing the next chapter until I felt like I had things better under control. Weeks turned into months, and because I hadn’t played Mystic Messenger in a while I started to doubt my ability to even finish the story I’d intended to tell. It became easier to just leave it “until I felt like coming back”.

But don’t worry too much about me - I’m doing pretty great nowadays, and I’ve even done a bunch of writing again in the last couple years (just not for MysMe, sadly).

Are you still in the MysMe fandom?

Yes, I am! I don’t post on here so much, but if you’ve been following my Mysterious Messenger posts at all (see the pinned post on this blog) you’ll know that I’ve been working on a Mystic Messenger-style engine since 2018. I tended to work on it in bursts throughout 2018 and early 2019 but for most of 2020 and all of 2021 I’ve been making daily updates to it adding new features, fixing bugs, and maintaining the code. It’s even got a novel-length wiki to go with it lol. I’m also collaborating with a group of people working on a free fangame that will use the engine.

Are you going to come back to Everlasting Party?

All right so this is actually a couple of questions in one. First, do I want to come back to EP? The answer is yes. It haunts me that I’ve left it unfinished and I sometimes get messages or comments about it and I want very dearly to have it finished so I don’t have this loose thread dangling about ^^;;

Will I come back to finish EP? I don’t have a concrete answer for this one because I hate making promises I can’t keep, but I’ll give you some information on my process for this:

I keep telling myself if I remake all the chatrooms for EP with my program (mentioned above), I have to finish writing EP.

I feel like I need to replay the games to re-familiarize myself with canon to properly write the characters again, but don’t really have the same drive to go through all the chats

It’s been a while and my writing style has actually evolved quite a bit (but for the better, I hope!). If I finish EP, there are earlier chapters I’d like to expand upon and potentially modify to flow better. I do worry though that earlier readers might not like the way I change it, but also, I have no idea how many of those people would come back to read the ending, really, anyway.

The good news, though:

I actually wrote 25k on EP during Camp NaNo in July 2020

This is EP’s current word count in my drafts (unedited):

EP is also no longer constrained by my ability (and patience) to make chatrooms at all anymore since I can generate them in mere minutes with my program rather than painstakingly editing them frame-by-frame in Photoshop

I would really like the satisfaction of finishing this story :P

So in summary anon: I am cautiously optimistic about the fate of Everlasting Party. And I actually adore messages like this that let me know people have enjoyed it and would be willing to come back if it was completed! ♥ The odds of me finishing it do, in fact, increase with each person who tells me this, ‘cause part of my worry is that it would be pointless anyway since it’s been several years and what if it doesn’t live up to what people imagined it would be...

Basically, even though I’ve written several additional unposted chapters of EP, I really want to have the whole story complete before uploading again so I don’t get anyone’s hopes up. That said, it’s also pointless to sit on another 25k+ of words if I don’t finish it, so... well, how’s this: if I don’t finish EP by 2022, then I’ll upload what I have written and write a note on my plans so people like you can have some closure.

Thank you again for this message! And if anyone reading this has read Everlasting Party and is also interested in the ending, I’d love if you’d send a message or comment my way with your thoughts ♥

[durifmdarchived]

 breath - fmdverification self para.

date: october 1st, 2020. character(s) involved: mentions of his parents.  about: full writing verification for breath. during chuseok of 2020 while he’s visiting incheon, he makes the trek to his parents’ grave. he says nothing besides for sitting in silence and between his quiet breaths, duri writes a song that he labels as “breath.” breath is a very personal song, to say the least, since it seemingly follows how exhausted he is. trigger warnings: mentions of death/parental death, mentions of a grave.  notes: this stuff isn’t due till sept 2021 but you’ll see me writing verifications probably over the next few weeks esp during christmas/winter break in like,, 2 weeks just because i have the concepts laid out and in my head. what can i say,, im a fan of working ahead and i have so many to write <3 word count: 1,185.

the beginning of autumn air, with colors beginning to really change upon the trees. he’s wrapped up in a sweater and other attributes of slightly warm clothing to fight against the autumn air. duri finds himself in the place that he hadn’t visited in a while; the final resting place of his parents. he didn’t often get the chance to come, something that happens to make him feel guilty in a way. but, it was something that he wasn’t able to help, simply because he doesn’t really have the time to come visit, with how crazy his schedules are able to get, whether that’s in knight or outside of knight. yet, an odd guilt had still struck inside of him. nonetheless, with his song book, and he sits down at the tree that they’re buried, the perfect place for sunlight and a nice shade. he likes to believe that on the summer days, the two sat entangled with each other under the tree, enjoying the sunshine; something that was there favorite. in the autumn and winter, perhaps they stayed in the night sky, living among the stars. it was always a nice thought to him. nonetheless, he takes his seat there, under the tree, in their spots on a warm, sunny, summer day. he’ll keep it warm for this time during a cool, breezy, autumn day. 

his eyes had closed as he was sat there, letting the cool breeze hit against his face, as he took soft breaths. these were the times that the sadness had always set in. it was something that had always been there for duri, something that haunted him on a day to day basis. but, there was only sometimes when it had really shined through, and visiting their final resting place was one of those places that it occurred. however, he seemingly kept it in, not allowing it to come out. he didn’t want it to be known that while he was gone that morning, that he was sad. he kept it to himself, it was always a lot better that way. he took a deep breath, his hand gripping that music notebook a little bit more. before, he was inspired by his breath, the way he got up that morning, and the morning autumn air that surrounded him.

he wanted to lay out how he felt on a day to day basis, at least, most days; he got lucky on a lot of the days, where he didn’t feel it most of the time. but, it still was something that was felt just about everyday; somedays it being bigger than others. his fingertips opened up the book, grabbing his pen, while he seemingly dived into his thoughts for a bit. he talks about the breaths he’s going to take inn the day, talks about resting; especially since he was currently doing such a task. he talks of the dreams that he left at the bottom of the bed, when he woke up that morning. it felt like the song was based off his morning and how he felt the rest of the day may feel - even if no one else around would have known. but, that felt like most days for the almost thirty-year-old. his exhausted heart makes an appearance, being sure to stick that right in there. 

an ode to closing his eyes at night, however, it’s different from most other people, as he often has a rather hard time going to bed at night. most times, he doesn’t fall asleep, sometimes he’s up at night. but, sometimes, he feels as if he falls asleep alone, even though someone is next to him; he always seems to be the last one to actually fall asleep, something that he almost can’t stand in a way. but, nonetheless, he talks about waking up, wanting to smile - but, he almost can’t, because it was a tiring night, a night that he didn’t actually get. though, for now, he’s at a stand still. 

where does he go next in the song? does he talk about the dreams he holds of them still being here? that they were here to watch him grow and support him in his dreams? are they happy where they are? are they no longer sad, like he was still sad after all these years? he hears all about them being in a better place... but, are they happy there? are they still scared because of how they went? are there where ever they are, living afraid like he constantly lives like? he shook it off, no... they’re good now, they’re happy now... they’re a dream, and he wished that he could stay in a dream like that. so, he wrote those words down about if he was able to stay in such a dream, hope for the things he can’t have, and if he could not be afraid anymore... it was a nice thought. maybe one day he’ll get that... maybe.

he brings his heart into the song once more. he has a big heart, something that’s rather known and he gets told often. however, duri almost feels like it isn’t. he feels as if it’s small in a way, simply because it’s exhausted still from everything he’s gone through. it needs to breathe again, he needed to let it breathe. but, once it breathes, it’ll be like birds flying through the sky. however, duri’s sky is endless, because it feels like something like this will never again. so, he again takes those elements and puts them into words, into lyrics. but, maybe his “spring” would come again, even if it’s raining and falling onto his world, but hopefully it helps him grow once more... that’s a day that he would like to live in - the next thoughts he translates into words and lyrics. 

in his writing, he repeats what he made the chorus to be; words that were comforting to him in a way, he had hoped that if it became a song that he released, that it would be able to comfort those that listened to the song. he thinks that’s something that’s rather nice and why he makes music in the first place, after all. he thinks he finished the words, but it felt as if something had been missing from the words, something that was fundamental to how he felt... loneliness. sure, he’s mentioned it before, but it was something else that was needed. so, he’s sat there for longer. before, he finally figures out the missing words, which were simple. he mentions the lonely day and it breathing... yeah, that was it. 

he looked the song over, deciding that it was good. at the top of the song, he simply writes “breath.” he shut the book, placing his pen in there, and leaned back to relax again. he takes a breath, letting out, and simply just breathes. he hopes that he could release this song one day, put his feelings out there once more. he really could only hope that bc entertainment would like it as much as he does. 

[sablesides-writing-corner]

Mulan and Loceit!

Sorry if it's not what you expected, havent seen any Mulan movie since I was little so I dont remember much about it ;-;

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

Logan was quite content with his life, and he was rather smart for someone of his social status. But of course there was only one thing anyone ever seemed to want from him, a husband. He'd just never seen the point in love, or feelings in general for that matter, it all seemed pointless. Yet there he was, getting ready to see if he could ever land the husband his family so desperately wished he would. Make-up itched, and clothing to, everything itched and he hated it. He hated these pointless rituals and matchmaking, hated love, hated feelings. But he sat and smiled, because that's what a good son does, sits and smiles and gets a spouse to carry on his family's legacy. His grandmother had given him a cricket, he never understood how that was going to help him, it was highly unlikely that such superstitions were actually true.

But Logan found himself hoping his grandmother was correct in her assumptions as he walked to the matchmakers house. He hoped he wasnt sweating, makeup ran when in contact with liquids, he thought about how stupid makeup was again.

He wasnt sure when he'd been called, he barely remembered it, but next thing he knew he was sitting on the floor, pouring tea for matchmaker and pretending to have a genuine smile. He didnt have to pretend for much longer, the tea stains on the matchmakers face made her look almost as if she had a beard. She reached for the teacup, and Logan noticed the cricket his grandmother had given him poking its head out from the cup.

"Let me refill that for you-" he said, taking the cup quickly and trying to stall for time. The matchmaker eyed him suspiciously. Logan felt beads of sweat on his forehead and began to panic. This was a bad course of action.

Next thing he knew, or at least wish he knew, the matchmaker was on fire and screaming at him to get out.

"YOU WILL NEVER FIND A HUSBAND, YOU WILL BRING ONLY DISHONOR TO YOUR FAMILY!" the words cut through Logan like a knife. He didnt care about finding a husband, or feelings, or love. But he did care about family, and the disappointed looks from his own haunted him.

It seemed like the day couldnt get worse. Yet somehow, it did. Logan's mother was told she would be sent off to war, and there was nothing Logan could do to stop it. He'd stayed up for hours thinking and devising plans, watching his reflection in the pond, wondering what he'd done to become such a terrible son, when he came to a realization. He walked to the wardrobe his parents had always told him to stay away from, that it was for his mother only, he shouldnt touch it. But when he opened the wardrobe and took out the armor inside, he couldnt see why. Perhaps they thought him to fragile for war, but he disagreed. As he put on the armor and took the sword his mother used to show him when he was little, he felt stronger, smarter, even. He hadnt thought it possible for him to get any smarter than he already was, he suprised himself every day now it seemed. He raced to the stables and found his personal favorite horse, a tan palomino.

"You think you can handle a journey like this? It'll be a while before we can get back," Logan didnt know why he talked to the horse, it was such a stupid thing to do, but it seemed to understand him, he could have sworn he saw it nod. No matter the reaction, he climbed onto the horse's back and set off for the army, completely uncertain of whether or not he would return.

About half way through his journey, as Logan slept one night, he heard something moving in the field. He blinked his eyes open and looked up to see the shadow of a dragon on some stone. "What the-"

"GREETINGS MORTAL- IT IS I- REMUS!" said the dragon. Logan looked around, and noticed a small green dragon with brown lines on its nose nearby, the cricket was holding a torch toward it. "IM HERE TO TELL YOU TO-" the dragon seemed to notice Logan staring at him, "Oh-"

"You're here to help me." said Logan, who quite frankly was not expecting much from the dragon.

"I know more about this than you do, violence is my thing," said Remus the dragon, who was small and nonthreatening.

"I'm sure you do," said Logan sarcastically, but he decided to e

accept the dragon's help anyways, he supposed a talking dragon for company was better than no company at all.

He hadn't expected this to be an easy feat, not remotely, but the addition of General Deceit was something he absolutely couldnt wrap his head around. The general had scars all along one side of his face, he almost looked like he had scales. The rest of the army found him intimidating, Logan found his pushing frankly annoying.

Logan would make one mistake and hear "I've seen better from a servant," behind him. It was, to be frank, a drag. Remus tried to help him several times, but that only seemed to get him into more trouble.

"Alright, I think I've seen enough from you," Deceit's eyes were cold and unforgiving as they bore into Logan's own, he'd never been scared of the general, but this particular instance was an outlier. "Your time in this army is done, I expect your things and you to be gone by morning, Logic," the name had been used on a whim, Logan frankly didnt understand how anyone bought it, but that wasnt his place to say. He watched as Deceit stormed off to watch the other recruits, and he made a decision. He was going to practice until Deceit had no choice but to let him stay.

It worked like a charm, Logan would never forget the look on Deceit's face as he gaped at Logan, sitting atop the log that so many others had desperately tried to scale the previous day. He took great pleasure in Deceit's revocation of his previous command. But this was a war, he had to remember that.

It hadnt really felt like a war, hed been having so much fun talking with the other recruits, and been so caught up in hiding his identity that he had almost forgotten. Which was why when they came upon the decimated remains of another village, Logan didnt know how to cope. They were overtaken soon after, and amid the confusion Logan had managed to screw something up that he couldnt repair.

"What, exactly, is this?" Deceit had his hand wrapped around Logan's arm, despite the opposing armies supposed defeat, Logan had made a grave mistake. He had forgotten all about the markings he'd left on his arm the day of his matchmaking, he'd hoped they would have come off by now, he wished they had. "So you're not even a soldier, then?" said Deceit, the hiss in his voice clearly audible. Logan tried to sputter out a response, but to no avail. He was left there, in the cold, as the rest of the army fled back home. Remus tried to console him, but it was no use. He'd failed to gain honor in any situation, he wasnt a good husband, he wasnt a good soldier, and he wasnt a good scholar. He wasnt good enough at anything.

Logan's horse whinnied, he turned around to see his enemies rising out from where he'd thought they'd disappeared. Frantically, he got back on his horse, Remus latched onto his shoulder, and fled back home, hoping to warn Deceit before it was to late.

The journey seemed endless, but finally, Logan made it. He searched the crowds and streets for Deceit, catching a glimpse of his yellow eyes withing a parade.

"Deceit!" he rode up beside him, the man ignored him. "Deceit, the armies didnt die back at the mountains, we're all in danger! You have to listen to me!"

Deceit turned to face him "I dont take orders from a low-class man who couldnt even land a husband, you are not a leader, and you are not a soldier, stay in your own line." he growled. Logan glared and lead his horse away.

"How dare he! Well if he doesnt want to listen then we can just watch everyone die from out here!" said Remus angrily. Logan ignored him, he was to busy trying to formulate a plan so his idea wouldnt come to fruition. He finally landed on something, but it still required Deceit's help.

By the time he'd returned to the palace however, enemy forces had already arrived. He enlisted the help of some of his army friends as a distraction and ran off to find Deceit.

"Do you believe me now!" he said, halfway sarcastically. Deceit through him a sword and rolled his eyes. Together they fought through the army. Logan had never really noticed it before, but Deceit's intimidating demeanor was actually very pleasing to him, and he fought quite well for someone with so many injuries so close to his eye.

Logan hadnt expected any rewards, he'd expected a reprimand, punishment, maybe even death for what he'd done. Yet as he faced the crowds of people cheering for him, he felt happier than he ever had in his life, he watched Remus giving him a thumbs up, watched his parents beaming up at him from the audience, and then he felt a hand on his shoulder.

He turned to face Deceit once again. The man rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. "You uh, fight, well, for someone-"

"So nerdy?" Logan finished his sentence for him. Deceit flushed and Logan laughed. He said his goodbyes and headed back home.

He'd fully expected there to be no more suprises in his life, fore everything to go back to normal as soon as he put everything back in place. He should've known better, his life had been nothing but surprises recently, but at least this surprise was a pleasant one. Deceit's smiling face was a sight Logan had only ever dreamed of seeing again, and his words were something that caused even more joy.

"I'm in love with you, Logan, I dont know how or why, but its true," Deceit had told him. And Logan had smiled, hed felt it to, he'd never known what the word meant before, hed always thought of himself as a glitch in that particular system, yet here he was. Young, clever, and in love,and what a set of things to be indeed, he wouldnt change any of it for the world.

[dianapana]

SasuHina Month Day 2- Vampire

Hey guys, I'm back with day 2 woopwoop, i know they are kinda posted close one to the other, but i wanna catch up to the day that i should be at and as i said im on the road most of August so when i gind time and ok internet connection i wanna try to upload. Also fun fact, i chose May 26th cuz here where i live, Transylvania, that day is Dracula day so i thought it fitted nice with the prompt. ANYWAY i hope you enjoy ~Love Dia

♡•♡•♡

Every year on 26th May for the past 8 centuries people of Konoha go to the Hyuuga mansion to pray for the souls of all the lost. Not the dead, but those that are missing. They came to the mansion weep and tell sad stories about people that have mysteriously disappeared that year. They pray for those souls and ask the Gods to be kind to them in the following year. The tradition started when people of Konoha decided that all those people go missing because of a curse that started on the 12th century, the first missing person being the first Hyuuga princess of that time. This tradition happens of the anniversary of her disappearance.

In the Hyuuga mansion there is an glass coffin in the middle of the study room where the most life-like doll of Hinata, the Hyuuga princess lays. There is a small gold plate that tells the doll's story how it was made as a gift for Hiashi, the first king and Hinata's father for what would have been the girl's 21rst birthday, 7 months after she went missing. The doll is the oldest object in the whole village and also the most valuable one. Everyone always talkes about the doll, about its beauty and the sad story behind it and about the curse that it somewhat represents. But actually there are very few people that know the tale behind the “doll" and the missing people.

The Hyuugas do not know the truth, not even Hiashi was aware when he was alive all those years ago, they do have a but more information than the general public but they believe the doll to be the embodiment of evil since many of them have walked around the house in the middle of the night to find the glass coffin empty. These stories of the doll being haunted have not left the Hyuuga household in order not to panic the people.

The only ones to know the truth are the Uchihas, a clan so old and with such morbid past that the village do not dare speak their name. They all believe the clan to be dead, but the Uchihas live and thrive in the middle of the forest. They all know about Hinata and all the missing people over the past 8 centuries because they have been alive to see it all happen.

“It's may 26th today.” Itachi says looking over his shoulder toward his little brother. “it’s funny how we don’t have any grasp over time and days anymore but this day always stands out"

“Hn. It is different because it’s the only day all year round when Hinata is later than usually. The people buzz around her today like moths to a flame.” Sasuke grumbles. His eyes are closed and he sits on his back on the porch of their house. Itachi is in front if him watching two newbies beings scolded by Fugaku, his father. Itachi's back is to Sasuke but he turns his head to see his brother.

“Maybe its time for the doll to disappear. You both hate how she has to be there during the day. It has been 8 centuries. The first couple of hundred of years I understood she stood back to watch over her family and their children but now she has little in common with the Hyuugas nowadays but the name. The bloodline has been altered over the years, she no longer should feel responsible for them. Her close relatives lived and died, as did their children, and their children and so forth”

Sasuke gets up and runs both hands over his face “I know, but I’m not sure how to bring this up to her. She’s been doing it for so long, I know she still feels bad for the way her father broke down when she ‘went missing’ I think she s looking over the Hyuugas to try to make sure that no one here tries to turn or eat one of them.”

The day Hinata appeared in their lives is one none will forget, the soft spoken princess was pray to one of their newbies even if Fugaku instructed them all not to prey on royalty and bring unwanted attention to them. The fragile girl just wouldn’t die even after being almost drained of blood after that newbie failed to control his hunger. He brought her back to the house with very little blood in her system since most of it he had drank and a good part of it was on his hands and clothes. The said newbie was punished while the girl was saved by being fed vampire blood. She had woken up almost 3 days later in transition, after that she was treated like a new vampire and taught everything she needed to know. It took her barely 1 month to get used to her new way of being while most took over an year. The youngest Uchiha boy took a liking to her and in less than 1 month she became one of the only vampire that he tolerated.

5 months later, a few before her birthday she asked him to take her back to see her family and Sasuke helped her sneak into her old house only to find all her family in deep mourning over her. After returning to the Uchiha house that night she asked Sasuke to help her find a way to return home without rising any suspicions. That is how she became a ‘doll' that stays all day in the glass coffin in her old house. It began as a way for her to watch over her family but now after so many years its just her normal. Sasuke sometimes curses the day that he compelled a wealthy friend of Hinata's father to take her to him in her coffin as a gift for the wounded family on her birthday.

When Fugaku found out he was furious but the damage was done, the doll disappearing would do even more harm so he could not undo it. Hinata started spending most of her day there doing nothing, sitting in her coffin with her eyes open and not moving, listening and watching everything. The time they spent in those 8 months was more than they did in the past 8 centuries. When she is back at the Uchiha house she does basic and vital things such as eating, washing herself and sleeping.

The conversation between brothers changed to another topic since that one was of no use. Many hours later when Hinata finally returns to the Uchiha house instead of seeing Sasuke for a few minutes before eating she finds Itachi in her room looking tense.

“Itachi? Is something wrong?” her mind going staright to Sasuke, did something happen to him?

“I did something that needed done long ago.” The older Uchiha says and walks over to her to place his hands on her forearms, it started as a sweet genuine act but his hold soon becomes hostile and more powerful, it is borderline painful. “It's over Hinata. No more games. You are either here or you are somewhere else. The Hyuuga house is no longer an option”

Her eyes widens. “What do you mean?” When a few seconds pass and Itachi hasn’t answered yet Hinata whisperes again “What did you do?”

“I fixed the problem. You no longer have a reason to be there, and you being here just for a bit hurts my brother. You can choose to be here forever or not another moment. The glass coffin is broken. There is a man on the run that believes he has stolen and sold the doll. There are evidence that lead to him all around the ‘crime' scene. You are free to be here or to go. If you are still here in the morning it means you can never leave. I've allowed you for too long to string Sasuke along you either set him free by leaving, by rejecting him yet staying here or the two of you can go back to being how you were in the first 7 months of you being a vampire.” Finishing his speech Itachi left before allowing Hibata to say a word.

The next day Sasuke comes out of his room very disoriented, he doesn’t remember going to bed and he usually always talks to Hianta for a bit before that, even if it is one of those days in which she comes late. The moon is on the sky once more which meant he has been out of it for almost 24h. In the kitchen he finds his brother, eyeing Itachi suspiciously Sasuke wants to question him but a familiar laugh catches his attention from the garden. With no word to Itachi he followes the voice, not noticing his brother's smirk.

“Hinata? Why are you here? What about the Hyuugas?” he askes. She turns around, walks to him and wraps herself around him in a hug.

“It’s over. No more doll. I am here now and I will be forever"

[magnolopsida]

I don’t want your heart (part 2)

Info :

Conner (RK 900) x reader

words : 2,2 k

Summary :

RK900 is way more different than his previous self, totally decided to get what he wants : you. He likes to claim that you’re his, and you find yourself unable to make him understand the opposite. 

Notes : okay it took me a lot of time to finish this, its my birthday, im sick and tired as hell someone help, I don’t have the time to correct this ahah enjoy this garbage I love y’all (also there will be more than 2 parts finally ;)) 

Part 1

Part 2

"I'm done with all the evidences, I'm going home now." you said to Hank, still at his desk.

"No problem, see ya tomorrow."

You waved your hand at the detective, tossed your jacket over your shoulders and you grabbed your belongings before leaving the office. It was really late, probably more than midnight, and most of the streets were no longer lit. With a frown, you decided to speed up to go to your apartment. You needed to sleep and forget about Conner and what had happened in the secure room some minutes before.

"You should be more careful at such an hour." a voice suddenly whispered, way too close to you.

Suppressing a scream, you turned and looked at the RK900, right in front of you. He was half in the shadows, and the only thing you could see about him was the white of his jacket, his LED and two piercing blue eyes, like sharp pieces of ice, cold and...studying you.

"Holy shit, Conner ! What the hell is wrong with you ?! We don't scare people like that in the middle of the night, dammit !"

You ran a hand over your face and you froze when he exclaimed :

"It's not a good idea to go alone in those streets, especially since the revolution. I'm coming with you."

You opened your mouth without knowing what to say. You thought you could be finally alone for the rest of the night, to go home and get some sleep and especially forget about the android until the next day, but apparently it was asking too much.

"I'm perfectly able to go home by myself, but thank you for the offer, I guess."

You were going to turn around and continue your way when he added with a cold tone :

"It wasn't a question, actually. I'm coming with you. After all, I like to take care of what belongs to me."

You froze again and swallowed, happy that it was too dark to see the blush on your cheeks. You wanted him to understand that there was no chance for him to have you, like you were some sort of an object, but the words were stuck in your throat and you just looked back at him for a moment.

"Follow me if you want," you started. "But if I die anyway because an asshole wanted to rape me and you couldn't stop him, I will come back from the dead to haunt you."

"As if a human could kill me." Conner snorted condescendingly.

Your shook your head, unable to hide your smirk at the corner of your mouth and you decided to finally go home, trying to forget about the constant presence of the android by your side. You had to admit that it was reassuring to know he was here.

Fifteen minutes later, you were finally at your front door with keys in hand. You glanced at the android, ready to thank him before going inside, but he spoke first :

"You should hurry, you need as much sleep as you can get."

"Uuuuh yeah... thank you for taking me home."

The android raised a brow at you.

"When I said that I was coming with you, it wasn't just at your door, (Y/n).”

"I assure you, I'll be fine. Nothing will happen to me at home."

Conner didn't say anything but he was studying you again, and you swallowed again. You were honestly way too tired to argue with him about this at this hour. In any case, you were only going to sleep, there was no chance he would disturb you. With a sigh, you unlocked your door and let the RK900 in. Leaving your jacket and other stuff in a corner of your kitchen, you decided to ignore Conner to grab your nightwear and headed to the bathroom.

Some minutes later, you were back in the kitchen, decided to drink some of your favorite soda before going to sleep.

"You should not drink that before sleeping. It is not good for your health and there is way too much sugar in it."

You glared at the android, standing in the middle of the room, and snorted.

"You give me too many orders. I don't like that."

With a smirk, you grabbed the bottle to drink but a strong hand catched your wrist, preventing you from carrying the bottle to your lips. You raised your head to Conner - suddenly noticing how tall he was compared to you - and growled :

" 'The fuck you think you're doing ?"

"I said no. Is it so difficult to understand ?"

"Oh, I get it. I just do what I want."

Your eyes widened when you noticed the smirk at the corner of his mouth. His other hand grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him in the eyes and you were unable to move, you wrist still caught in his strong grip.

"You should obey, (Y/n). You don't want me to punish you, right ?"

His words caught you off guard and you blushed, your breath escaping from your mouth. You were suddenly aware of his touch, burning your skin.

"No, I don't..." you finally mumbled after a moment of silence.

The android released you  and stepped back. A little sigh of relief escaped you and you put the bottle back in your fridge, trying to ignore the smirk of satisfaction of Conner.

"I'm going to sleep, now."

"Good night, (Y/n)." the RK900 greeted you.

Hoping he wasn't going to go through all your belongings or do weird things during your sleep, you buried yourself in your blankets with a lazy smile - you could finally get some rest.

______________

The sound of the alarm clock pulled you from your sleep and you growled. Some hours were definitely not enough for you. With a sigh, you managed to push your blanket and froze when you noticed Conner, leaning against the doorframe. You didn't know how to react to that, the way he acted, like he owned the place, like he owned you.

"You know, it's creepy as fuck to watch people when they sleep."

He just smirked at this and you couldn't help but watch him - maybe he was an asshole, but he was gorgeous and it was the problem. He wasn't supposed to be here in the first place and you were unable to make him leave, too weak everytime his gaze was on you.

Standing up, you started to find some clothes who could fit together. When you finally took your head out of the closet you noticed that Conner was no longer there and you decided to take a quick shower.  

"Do I smell coffee ?" you asked when entering your kitchen some minutes later.

On the table, a breakfast was waiting for you and Conner was sitting on one of the chairs. It was... strangely nice of him and you smiled awkwardly at the android, sitting next to him.

"Thank you for the breakfast." you mumbled with pancakes in your mouth.

"Don't talk with your mouth full." Conner only retorted with a frown. "I am not satisfied with what you eat daily, we will have to change this soon."

It was your time to frown at him and you put your mug back on the table. You studied him, regretting not being an android to understand him and his cold - yet caring - gaze.

"I don't understand. What- what do you want from me?"

He rolled his eyes like the question was stupid and it was the most human thing he has ever done in front of you - well, if you forgot about this possessive kiss from last night, and it as absolutely not the moment to think about it.

"I already told you about it. I want everything."

He got this little smile at the corner of his mouth at this words and a shiver ran down your spine while you frowned again. Finally, you decided to grab again your mug of coffee to finish your breakfast and go to the station. You got a lot of cases to work on and you wanted to do as much as you could manage today.

Lost in your thoughts, you noticed too late the hand of the android on your neck, leaning against a vein. You held your breath as he stroked it with his thumb, a fascinated look on his features.

"You are so small between my hands... it could be so easy to break you." he almost purred, putting the rest of his fingers in the hollow of your neck.

"Conner..." you managed to say.

"Don't worry, I'm not going  to hurt you." the android whispered when he noticed the mix of arousal and fear on your face. "Unless you want me to."

He added those last words with a smirk and the possibility of what he implied made you blush worst than before.

"No !" you replied.

"Good. Now finish your breakfast, we have a job to do."

He got up to leave the kitchen and his hand caressed your neck lightly, leaving you alone and totally lost, almost worried about what he was going to do next. Closing your eyes for a moment, you took a deep breath and you finished your coffee - you needed to go to the police station.

____________________

You weren't in a good mood when both of you finally showed up at the station, just because you weren't able to fight against Conner's words and gestures. You decided to go to Hank, who was apparently here in time again.

"Hey." you smiled at the lieutenant, putting a cup of coffee in front of him, with a box of colorful donuts.

He grabbed both with a raised eyebrow.

"What did I do to deserve this ?"

"I can be nice, sometimes. Enjoy, it doesn't happen often."

He smiled again at this and you decided to take a new cup of coffee in the lunch room when you noticed the horrible amount of paperwork on your desk, forgetting the disapproving look from the RK900. You were like him and his blue blood, you needed fuel to work correctly.

You headed to the room when someone decided to be on your way for coffee.

"(Y/n)." Gavin greeted you.

"Hmm, hey." you answered awkwardly.

You never knew how to act with him - sometimes he wanted to get in your pants, and the rest of the time he tried to make fun of you. You wondered for a moment what was his mood for today.

"I heard you work with a new tin can now. That's awful. Eh, maybe you could come with me to drink something tonight and forget about this-"

"No, thank you. I don't even have the time you know, too much work..."

Hank told you before that you were way too gentle with Reed and you should kick his ass but it wasn't really your style and you always brushed him off gently instead. Like always, he tried to grab your arm.

"Detective, you should leave (Y/n) alone. We have a lot of work to do, and you take our precious time."

You turned your head to see Conner and raised a brow. Why did he always have to follow you everywhere like that ? It wasn't like you were going to suddenly disappear.

"Fuck off, asshole. I'm not talking to you, actually."

You widened your eyes at Reed's words and glanced at the android. He wasn't like Connor at all, and you already knew that talking to him like that wasn't a good idea at all.

"You should be careful, Gavin." you said in a low voice.

The detective started to laugh and you looked at the RK900. His cold gaze was studying the human in front of him with a disgusted frown.

"Of what ? Him ? It's just some plastic-"

"I think detective Reed is just jealous." Conner cut him.

Your brows furrowed for a moment. What was jealousy doing in there, seriously ?

"Yes. Because he is still alone, when I am the one who managed to get you, pet." he purred in your ear, just loud enough for Gavin to understand him with an horrified look.

The nickname left you speechless for a moment and you wanted to protest against this idea of belonging to him, but the face of the detective was priceless and you just smiled at him, satisfied.

"Can I go to my coffee, now ?" you asked him with a smirk.

For the first time, you were more than happy to see Gavin like this, and he was probably not going to ask for a drink anymore.

_______________

Yep Conner is way too possessive and the poor boy don’t know how to show affection someone help him ahah

anyway idk when the next part will be done (probably when I will get better urgh)

Tags (tell me if you want me to add you) :

@imchrisevanshoe @ash-laufey @darkraaven @roseval221 @lunar-r-bryce @wont-you @misskuuderechan @acupofhotlatte @kirliashiny-281 @funkybunny101 @sageypie17 @pandaworldkawaii @sdavid09 @alicia5833 @nightie-chan-blog @alondra-gaytan @itsfeliciatime @rubysnowdrop @tmblrmobilesucks @racrneko @dragoste-lunes @kayleenjinnie @myurlisunoriginal @melissalovesmusicyay @ericasabe @cyjannabethsilver @curiosity-loves-the-kitten @vanam0 @ageathas @just-a-new-start @dropthepizza346 @aniofcourage @treitike @moonstonefox12 @rosecollarbones @moonstruck-traveller @potenzel @loserunitetonight

[chocojjk-sideblog]

Shocked and Confused

Words: 1.6k

Summary: “the reader is tom’s best friend and she’s in love with him but he likes zendaya”

(A/N): @ the anon who requested this, im so sorry this took so long. I hope you enjoy it as much as i had fun writing it, thank you for the request ☺︎,, oof, i almost forgot to mention, i based this off of the movie “Im Drunk, I Love You”

When feelings started to surface for the curly headed boy, you were left shocked and confused. Tom Holland was your best friend. And you shouldn't be having feelings for your best friend...right? I mean, you never had them before, why now?

It all started when you guys were sixteen. Tom took care of you after you found out your boyfriend of six months have been cheating on you. Honestly, you could care less for the cheating bastard. Him leaving you didn't hurt. What hurt though, was knowing that you weren't good enough for someone. That he easily manipulated you and that you let yourself eat up all his lies.  

“Any guy would be lucky to have you, you know,” Tom whispered, a way to try and soothe you. As soon as you called him and he had heard your cries from over the phone, he was at your door in less than a second, pints of ice cream in one hand and a bottle of alcohol in the other, which you assumed he stole from his parents cabinet. By how fast he got to your house, you wondered why he got the role for Spiderman and not The Flash, but that's besides the point. That night, you guys talked and talked, until all you heard were the quiet snores coming out of his mouth. Deciding to just let the boy sleepover, you looked over at him, the way he was sleeping, your night light shining on him making him look like an angel.

And that's when it hit you. You were in love with your best friend.

Flash forward to the present day and you guys are now 22 years of age. You have been in love with your best friend for a total of 2,190 days or, in more simpler terms, 6 years. For 6 years you’ve kept this secret to yourself, afraid that if he ever finds out then the whole dynamic of your guys’ relationship would change. You’ve watched him go on dates, even saw girls come and go, some staying longer than others but never actually staying. Fearing that you’d end up being one of those girls, you never confessed.

Every time he needed you, you were there in a heartbeat. He needed a wing woman? You’re at his side. Girl problems? Your ears were always attentive, listening to every word he said, giving him advice when he needed them. A girl broke his heart? You guessed it! There you were, wiping away his tears, taking care of him the way you should've been taking care of yourself. But you couldn’t help it, you would do anything to keep the smile on his face, even if that means hurting yourself.

“Oh my god y/n, so Zendaya said something funny on set today but i mean when is she not funny,” Tom exclaimed, snapping you out of your thoughts as he entered your apartment. 

You lived near the set location of Spiderman: Far From Home and seeing that you had a vacant room, you offered it to the boy. It was a win-win, he gets a free room and you get to see him and that was enough for you.

“Yeah, what did she say?” you questioned, plastering a small smile on your face, seeming to be interested in the conversation when in all honesty, you’d rather be talking about something else, anything else.

“She said that -” as he continued to talked about her, you fade back into your thoughts. Thinking back to last month, the first time he told you that he had feelings for the actress.

“I really like her y/n, i really think she can be the one,” Tom gushed. You smiled at him, hiding the fact that your heart just broke into a million pieces. He’s never said that about the other girls and it broke you that he wasn't saying it about you.  

“That's great! im glad to hear that someone has finally caught your eye,” you said excitedly, hoping that he doesn't notice your pained expression and since he was so caught up with his newly discovered feelings, he never even paid attention.

“What should I do?” he asked you. Tom valued your opinion more than anyone. After all, you knew him more than anyone, even more than Harrison, and that's saying something. You have seen all sides of him, the good and the bad, so if anyone has to give him any advice, it has to be you.

“You said you liked her so just go for it!” you exclaimed.

‘Go for it’ ~ Oh, how you set yourself up for heartbreak. 

You could’ve told him then and there but all your fears just continues to haunt you. The fear of losing the friendship and the fear of not being good enough all jumbled together. However, you truly believed that it was easier this way.  

“Anyways she’s having a party tonight and she told me to invite you and - wait are you even listening to me?” Tom inquired as he looked at you, snapping you out of your thoughts once again.

“..yeah, yeah you said she’s having a party tonight,” you replied, waving him off as you took a sip from your water.

“Ok well, can you please be there, i think im going to confess to her tonight and i need all the support i can get,” Tom informed you, giving you his best puppy dog eyes knowing that you wouldn't be able to resist.

Almost choking from your water, you nod at him, “i wouldn't miss it for the world,” you cheered as he tackled you onto the sofa, giving you a hug and softly planting kisses on your cheeks.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Tom exclaimed, your guys laughter filling the room. “You should probably get ready because it's in 2 hours,” he finished.

You look at him, your eyeballs almost popping out your sockets, “Thomas Stanley Holland, i haven't even showered! Oh my god!” you yelled as you ran into your bathroom and out of his arms to get ready, his laughter still ringing in your ear.

--

You guys have now arrived at the party and you felt like an absolute outsider. You didn't know anyone besides the Homecoming cast and so you stayed by them the entire time. Seeing Tom interact with Zendaya just took pieces from your heart left and right. Realizing that Tom didn't need you and that he knew what he was doing, you ventured off into the house, looking for something to drink.

You were supposed to stop after 6 shots, knowing that if you took more, you’d be beyond your “fun” alcohol stage, and will reach the “sad-girl” stage. However you couldn't stop it, you needed something to ease the pain, and right now, vodka seemed to be your best friend.You didn’t mean to get so drunk, and you didnt mean for the next events to start happening.

You were now seated at the edge of Tom’s bed in the bedroom you have gladly offered him. Tom grabbed the makeup wipes you kept in the bathroom and started removing your ruined makeup. He found you midway into the party drunk as hell, slurring words and laughing like a maniac. Knowing that you probably have had enough, he decided to just leave the party early with you in his arms.

“Why the hell did you get so drunk, y/n?” he chuckled, amused at the way you were poking his free hand, a smile still instilled on your face as he removed your lashes. “Weren't you supposed to be my support system?” he said jokingly, flashing you a smile as he started to make his way to your eyeshadow.

It took you a while to process what he has said, considering that the alcohol was still buzzing in your system. “Heh. sorry,” you finally replied with a toothy grin until you remembered the reason why he needed support. Your smile disappearing, you stare at him as he carefully takes off your lipstick, his eyebrows furrowed as he stared at your lips, a clear determination to get rid of the red paint.

“I’m in love with you,” you quietly whispered, catching his attention. He stops to look at you, taking his hand off your lips as you look down at your lap.

“For 6 years, i've been in love with you,” you admitted, “6 years,” you sniffled out as tears started to flow out of your eyes. Not wanting him to see you, you brought your hands up to your face, a way to shield yourself from his unwavering eyes.

“6 years,” you whispered again, your muffled cries filling the tension-filled air. You’ve ruined the friendship and you know it. There was no going back now.  

Tom takes a seat beside you. Slowly he brings his hand up to your face, wiping away your tears. “Come here,” he whispers as you continued to cry into his shoulders. He tries to shush you but nothing was working. Again, he grabbed your face, making you face him this time. He gives you a small kiss on the forehead, as he made his way down. First, to kiss the tears that have escaped from your eyes, then down to your nose, and finally, your lips.

You kiss him back, the taste of alcohol on the tip of your tongues. He gently leads you back making you lay down on the bed and that's when you realize what was actually happening. You continued to kiss him for a while, savouring the feeling of his lips on yours before you stopped it. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you hugged him tightly as your tears continued to make their way down your cheeks. He sighs into your neck, hugging you back and then - you gently pushed him off. Not even sparing a glance at him, you walked out of his room and into yours, leaving him in his bed - shocked and confused.

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

[philosophicalparadox]

Fanfic masterpost

I can’t add links to Tumblr anymore, but I can still direct your attentions, can’t I? 

For those of you who care (because DAMN my follower count has shot up recently; Thank you!) You can find me on Fanfiction . net under the name Kaze no Akatsuki. I do not post my fanfics on Wattpad (nor anything else for that matter) anymore because frankly, I don’t like the community. I am ALL for constructive critisism, will beg for it even, but even I only have so much patience for people who never have anything nice to say. I also, sadly, don’t post on AO3 though there’s not really a reason for that, I just have never visited the site, so I don’t know what to gauge of it yet. 

That said, here are the titles and summaries of some of my fanfictions if you ever want to check them out. I can’t post them directly here, due to Tumblr rules about word count, (my chapters are always no less than 4k words) as well as the fact that I don’t remotely trust their algorithm not to flag me. But I can redirect!

Note: I will NOT be posting the names/summaries of works that have been discontinued, are on hiatus, or are under revision. The only ones to appear here are completed or in-progress works. 

In the BLUE EXORCIST fandom: 

1. Captivity, an aimless kind of fanfic that just blows where the wind is taking it. I normally have some idea in mind, but this one is just sort of writing itself, if that makes sense. It focuses on Lucifer, Homare, and Beelzebub so far.

Summary:  An intelligence gathering experience forces Lucifer out of his comfort zone, in more ways than one. The threat of unholy war hangs in the air, but that isn't going to stop him from indulging in more...mortal, curiosities. A fic examining the relationship between Lucifer and his siblings, as well as, pressingly, his lieutenant. LuciferXHomare...mostly.

2. Unbecoming: A longer fic, in progress, which is my first ever attempt at dipping into the horror genre. And it is horror. I’m talking gore, lore, and more. If ever you wanted to get a good look at my (dark) interpretation of Mephisto’s demon side, this is the fic for you. Cannibalism included. 

Summary:  What happens when you put a big mind in a small box? A tiger in a cage with lambs? A demon in a room full of exwires? Lucifer wants to find out. Boredom is a demons constant companion, but even Mephisto can only take so much. How long before the demon loses it? A game of wills, wits, and psychological pressure has begun. In the game of chess, only one king can win. Checkmate. 

In the BLACK BUTLER fandom: 

1. Almost Human: The only oneshot I have ever wrote, and also the only T-rated fic I have, though I debated on that rating for a while. An introspective look, I guess, at Ciel (our Ciel) being haunted, literally, by his past. 

Summary:  When Ciel is plagued by visions of the late Vincent Phantomhive, he gets the feeling that his phantasmal father wants to tell him something. Unbeknownst to him, that 'thing' just so happens to have the potential to unravel the complex relationship he has with his demon butler - as well as reveal the darkest sides of himself.

In the HELLSING ULTIMATE fandom: 

1. Telepathic Heart: is THE longest fanfiction I have ever written, and it is complete (for now) with a sequel in the works. Note that it is AluSeras, though AluTegra is mentioned.

Summary:  Breathing some fresh life into an overused plot. Integra is mortal; there's nothing Alucard can do about it. (Not without risking the sanctity of the relationship he has with her anyway) And Mortals die. But sometimes, their ghosts just won't leave- and maybe turn up in some unexpected places. Mostly AluSeras, slight Alu-tegra, and Angst, because Alucard's a widow many times over.

And now, for the fics belonging to fandoms that are not a part of my blog, just in case you are interested in them:

In the SERAPH OF THE END Fandom:

1. Clip My Wings: I don’t actually know about the fate of this one, but I hope to continue with it. 

Summary:  Two friends, torn apart by time, space and species, now take refuge together with the outliers of the Moon Demon Company. It would seem all is saved, but Mika is not human, and he knows it - even if everyone else tries to forget. In the wake of their time spent together, will Yuu and the crew adopt a new attitude towards vampires? And what are the consequences of this? Anime-verse.

In the YU YU HAKUSHO fandom (which I highly recommend to my Blue Exorcist followers; if you know it, you will doubtlessly recognize the hints that are in Captivity): 

1. Words as Weapons: I haven’t updated this fic in so long, though it is still going. I merely have to get around to finishing the next chapter, which is easier said than done. Gosh I wish I didn’t always pick the most complicated character dynamics sometimes. 

Summary:  In which an unprecedented side effect of Yusuke's transformation threatens to either change his world entirely or leave it in a state of total devastation- though as long as Kurama and Hiei are there to pick up the pieces, each is equally as likely to happen. A slightly dark take on Yusuke's demon transformation, with a dash of Yaoi to add some contrast. YusukexKuramaxHiei.

I apologize now if this seems in any way promotional -- it’s not, I swear it! I just wanted my followers to know what to look for and where to find them. (pfft, like you can’t just see my profile, though I don’t think that’s an option open to guests. Hence why I’m putting it here!)

Look around, or don’t, up to you! And THANK YOU to every one who has reblogged, liked  or followed me of late. I appreciate it. ;p

[mamagabi-s-corner]

Borderline’s 3rd year anniversary

Not sure if I’ll be making a video, but I think a post will suffice? I hope so. gfhhghj.  Okay okay so like.. 18th September marks the anniversary of Borderline’s development. It has been 3 years since I started working on that game. God, time sure flies quite fast, and within that timespan, a lot regarding the game has changed, and.. truth be frank, it was quite an unexpected change.

You know what happened with the update 2 and shit, and it took about a year for me to release the final demo of the game (Iamsosorry;;), let’s just say that the changes made to the game were VERY necessary. So, here’s what happened.. The short summary that is: When I was fixing every bug possible found within the game, my laptop decided to be a bitch and thus resulted in rpgmaker freezing. so I had to use task manager to manually end the process. Big mistake. What happened was that the original data was corrupted, thus refusing to load. Luckily I had the backup data, but.. it was the buggy version of the game. So you can definitely imagine how bad I felt when I lost all that hard work and had to re-start all over again. Depression really hit me hard and I felt like I wanted to terminate the whole project and just do absolutely nothing. But one night, I had an epiphany, or as some might put it: a wake up call. It was that night where I literally said to myself: FUCK IT and just went with the flow, pretty much working on the game day in and day out, warming that seat up to fix everything and I mean EVERYTHING, not just the game itself, the lore, the characters, EVERYTHING HAD TO BE REVISED GOD FUCKING DAMMIT! I only took a couple of breaks to play a couple of fangames (one specifically cuz I am trash), but other than that, it was Borderline or bust. Later on, or actually beforehand, Chii (@chimakiisane) did a couple of re-sprites of my monsters since they weren’t feeling up to working on their game (they had really bad depression at the time and they wanted to help me out so of course I asked them if they could re-do the monster sprites and the facesets.) and you can imagine what happened from there. The moment I finished the game up to Gabriel’s point, I gave chii to test it out for me. Little did I know that she ended up giving the beta to James (dismaluprising) and the next thing I know, James helped me out with bug reports, more feedback and he did a layout for the haunted attraction, and in general helped me out with some things. ;; (he even bought me 7 coffees so I can buy the new rpgmaker 2003. LISTEN, THIS MAN! HE DESERVES ALL THE LOVE OK?! OK!) hence why it took a bit longer to release the final demo of the game because I was working on revising some bugs that were found, changed a couple of things and waited for chii to finish up important sprites (there are still more sprites that need to be finished), and then in May, I finally released Ultimatum. In which I thought something bad was going to happen, because the first two times, shit happened, the Ultimatum was the third try, and lucky for me, nothing bad happened. It was actually quite solid! I got bug reports, a new beta-tester, pretty much, a lot has happened. I just.. wish it took off a bit more, but maybe with the release of patch 2 in gamejolt, it might change some things.. I hope it does? *shrug* But other than that, I am happy with the changes, even if I have focused primarily on the main route so far, I will also put focus on the other routes as well. Now to explain the fate of burdel borble. 

When am I gonna start working on it again when I release patch 2? I am not sure when exactly, shortly after I release Pretender and having a bit of a hiatus, I will start working on Borderline again, so I am not exactly sure when I will release the full game, maybe 2019 or 2020, it all depends on how long I take with Pretender, and with me hunting for a job for a while now, things can get a bit hectic and quite slow truth be frank. All in all, real life is slowly catching up with me. ;; maybe when I work on Pretender, I’ll also work on Borderline on and off to balance it out and shit, maybe.. ;; 

all in all, within 3 years, I actually made so much progress you have no idea! So, what can you expect for the full release? Well, a lot to be precise. I am slowly getting more and more people to help me out with Borderline, and I am very happy that people are reaching out to me and wanting to help me out speed up the game a bit. I do still look for more aid, but I am very afraid to ask for help because I don’t want to seem like too much of a burden to people. ;; and hence why I am always scared of asking for help. I mean, if you want to help me out any way you can, feel free to hit me up via IM’s. I’d really appreciate any sort of help tbh! 

and with that, the post is now concluded. sorry for no anniversary drawing, almost forgot the anniversary was gonna happen, time sure flies very fast ree. Thank you so much for following the development of Borderline and Pretender, and thank you for over 150 followers, and thank you for even putting up with me and thank you for listening. Bai bai ;w;

[likepuppetsonastring]

Deal. (A JSE Ego Drabble)

(A/N: I have zero idea what the actual plot is here, I just wanted to write something dramatic with all of the Septiceye gang. So enjoy some horror nonesense!)

"Hell is empty, and all the devils are here!" -William Shakespeare, The Tempest

It was far too quiet. Chase was as white as a sheet. He'd been against the idea from the start, the only one among them other than Jack who had a family to get back to, and he didn't want to do anything else to put them at risk. He wrung his hands around his Nerf gun, staring at the door into the recording room from his slumped spot on the floor across the hall. A few yards from him, sitting at the top of the stairs, holding one knee and dangling the other over the top steps, was Jackieboy Man. Jackie was uncomfortable, fidgeting with Sam, throwing them into the air and catching them again. Luckily the eye didn't seem to oppose this. Schneep was pacing, muttering under his breath and checking his supplies every few seconds. No one had to ask why he was so nervous. Dapper and Shawn were leaning against the sides of the door, acting as guards, potentially. Dapper seemed to be the only one not uncomfortable with the reletive silence, but even he was showing signs of distress, mustache twitching every few seconds.

"How long've they been in there?" Schneep shrugged, but it was Jackie who answered. "About twenty minutes." "How much longer does he need?" "He told us he'd knock when he was ready." "Well, what if he's-?!" "Don't, Chase." Schneep's voice was unusually devoid of bravado. "I do not need to hear zat idea. I do not need to hear zat right now." Chase glared at him. "Well someone needs to think about this. If Jack can't do it-" "Chase-" "I'm not gonna back down from this! I've got kids to worry about! If that thing gets lose, if it comes after them like it came after you, I'm not havin' it! I'll kill 'im!" "But...but Chase, you can't..." Jackie trailed off, knowing full well Chase meant what he said, and that he had every right to. Dapper reached over and patted Chase's shoulder, but he jerked away from the touch, making Dap sigh as he stood back up, pulling his pocketwatch out and frowning at it, thinking what all of them were thinking. If it came to that, there was no chance for Robbie, anyway.

Jack hadn't liked the idea, either, and if he was being honest with himself, it scared the hell out of him. But he didn't see any other option. If it was him, he couldn't talk to him, he'd have no control. And Rob had volunteered, as awkwardly and as long as it had taken. "If...me, you c'n...talk. Make him...under...stand." "But he could-" "Could what? Kill...me?" Jack had had to smile at that. It was true, it'd be hard to kill a zombie.

He wasn't sure how it'd worked. A little cut with the knife, a twitch of the eye, a glitch, and Rob grabbing his arm. And now he was watching Anti frown in confusion as he stared at what he generally considered to be himself. "What is this?" It was odd hearing a full sentance come out of Rob's mouth, especially in that voice. "What a-am I? What have you d-done?" His voice seemed to be getting more stable, which seemed to unsettle him further. "Relax. You can stay for as long as it takes to do this." "What have you done?" he repeated, scowling as he looked down at his grey hands and striped shirt, picked up a piece of the purple fringe over his eyes. "Why are you still here?" "Robbie lent us his...services." "He...let me do this?" His eyes narrowed and he grinned suddenly. "You think you can reason with me, don't you? That's why you let him do this." "That's what I hoped, yeah," Jack nodded, leaning against the wall, hoping he looked casual. "Easier to talk with a willin' host?" "So much easier. Fits like a glove." He reached for the knife in Jack's hand, but it was jerked out of his reach. That was when Anti realized he was tied down, to a newly installed ring in the wall. He giggled. "You're funny, Jack. You think you can stop me." "No, not stop. Just...come to an agreement. And we're not total idiots." "Well, in that case," Anti spread his arms wide, grinning insanely. "I'm all ears." "Good." Jack paused. Where to start? What to say? If the others knew what he was planning... "First off, you're not allowed to hurt them. Any of them. Schneep, Chase, Jackie, you leave them alone. And Chase's kids. You're not allowed to hurt anyone." "I'm not allowed?" He laughed again. "How would you stop me?" "How have I always stopped you? You'll always be their villain, Anti, you don't scare me anymore. You can't do anything I don't want you to." "Bullshit." He twitched. "I spent an entire month doing things you didn't want." His tone was mocking, and it made Jack jump at the next shriek. "THEY LOVE ME! THEY LET IT HAPPEN! OVER AND OVER!" "Enough of your stupid catchphrases! Jesus, do you ever shut up? Are you gonna let me finish or not?" He was proud that his voice didn't shake. Anti gestured condescendingly for him to continue. Jack looked at the ground for the next part. "You can't let Signe know what's happening. You can never be in Brighton, nowhere near my family or my friends. I'll go somewhere else, I'll tell Signe I'm visiting someone. Pj said he'd help with that part." Anti seemed to be getting it now. "You're seriously doing this? Do they know what you're doing?" He jerked his head at the door, and the sound it made would've been worrying if his host had been a living person. He thumped his chest. "Does he know what you're doing? Maybe we have more in common that I thought!" "We have nothing in common," Jack said shortly. "You're the one making a deal with the devil," he smirked. "Last thing," Jack persisted. "No one knows it's real, and you're gonna keep it that way. You get one day a year, and little appearances when I give the okay." "So exactly what I've been doing since I got here? But you won't fight me." "And you don't get to hurt anyone." "Jack...I like how you think." His skin crawled as Anti smiled at him. For a second it was as if he was looking at himself, the purple and stripes replaced with flashes of green and black. He steeled himself. "Have we got a deal?" Anti nodded, laughing again. Jack extended his hand, the one not holding the knife. "Then okay. I'll let you in."

Chase jumped to his feet at the same time that Dap and Shawn jumped back from the door, and Jackie's and Schneep's heads whipped around. A knock. Dap was closest to the handle, he turned it and the five of them nearly fell into the room in their rush to get inside. All of them were looking frantically between the two figures, desperate to make sure they were alright. Rob looked shaken, but alright, if, if it was possible, a little paler than usual. Jack looked just the same as he had, a small, sheepish smile on his face. "Hey guys." "By Jesus, Jack, you can't be doin' that to us again!" Shawn yelled angrily. Dap had to be held back from slapping him, pointing aggressively at his watch. "It took longer than I thought, I know, I'm sorry," Jack mumbled, not meeting any of their eyes. Chase frowned. "Jack, dude, you okay? What'd he do?" "He...he agreed. He's not going to hurt anyone." "How?" Schneep demanded, "How did you get him to agree to zis? Vhat haff you done, Sean?" Jack jumped a little at the doctor's use of his real name. None of the egos ever called him that, Schneep must have been royally pissed. But he wasn't suspicious in the way that Chase was. "Nothing! Nothing! We just...talked." "About what?" "It's none of your-" "Of course it's our fucking business," Chase growled, more serious than anyone had seen him since the divorce. "I have kids, Jack. I need to know they'll be safe." Jack looked at him for a long moment, long enough to scare him. And then he looked at the ground and wouldn't look back up. "I promise, Chase. I promise your kids are safe." "That's not-" He stopped himself, took a breath. "Jack...tell me you didn't do anything stupid.” Jack smiled shakily, looking up to finally meet Chase’s eyes. "Aren't I always doing something stupid?"

Chase didn't answer, and he didn't laugh in relief like all the others did. He was the only one who'd seen it, and Jack knew it. That flash of green in his eyes? That was going to haunt him.

What've you done, Jack?

[daccys-blog]

hello angels ! wink wink. i'm kit, i'm nineteen and i ( never fcuking learned how to read ) use them/they pronouns. to keep it short, i can be really shit at ims or blast u w/ mssgs .... there is no in between and i'm srry ! also, i have discord so if anyone wants to plot or chat on there .... BTSLetMeKnow.mp3 ..... anyway, i've been highkey in love with harry styles for like six years and i'm also very into anime and even more into kpop ! talk 2 me abt bts ? pls. 

to learn all about the muse i'll be playing ( i won't promise this intro is any good .... but when have i ever been good @ intros fhsidguh ), pls continue under the cut ! 

Is that [ HARRY STYLES ]? Nope, that’s [ DACEY WARD ], the [ TWENTY-THREE ] year old human who is [ A PART OF ] the resistance. [ HE ] works as a [ REVEREND ]. People say that [ HE ] is pretty [ + MAGNANIMOUS ] but can be [ - BROODING ]. ( kit / them/they / mdt )

so ! joining this rp is a pretty Big Deal for me bc i get to play ward in a universe where he makes absolute sense. also for the first time. thank u. although the plot has made things challenging in regards to his beliefs, it's honestly so fresh and he can brood Even More ? thank u. anyway .... i'm kinda just jumping into this without a specific format in mind .... just hope i find it along the way ! n hope i don't make it all confusing fhiusdhfg whatever happens after ur finished reading this .... my ims r open and i am up 4 explaining anything necessary to make a plot/connection w/ our charas. 

HIS PAST ///

ward was born on feb 1st, 1994 ( yes this is harry's exact birthday fsdghuih thEY'RE BOTH AQUARIUS ?? MIGHT AS WELL ) 

two hours after his birth, he was handed to an endless system of foster care , being removed from foster home to foster home and waiting to be processed into a new , unknown family . as his age increased , his chances of adoption decreased , and by the age of twelve he convinced himself into forgetting about the idea of having parents , and siblings , and a house where he didn't feel like a stranger .

coincidentally , the year after that he was placed into a long-term home , with a family of three other foster kids and a couple in their forties who had children that had already married and moved away - they needed the money , but that didn't mean they treated ward and the other children like emotionally neglected pets . 

these foster parents taught him the word of the lord . ward had grown up around so many people , each with different opinions and views towards angels , that he hadn't formed an opinion of his own . he just felt pain from the suffering of others , and that was enough to breed hesitance when agreeing to the way angels were captured and held against their will . in one occasion , when he was twelve and hadn't been moved to his long-term home , he shared his views about disliking the way angels were treated ( because in the words of a twelve year old: "it's not their fault they were born that way" ) , and his foster dad at that time ( who had been sharing his own opinions regarding angels which entirely contradicted ward's feelings ) beat him with a broom stick to ' knock some sense into him ' . this is what resulted in ward being moved out of that home . 

he quickly learned that his new foster parents would never do something like that , though . a huge part of him was relieved to learn that they were part of the resistance although he didn't know what it was at that time . 

he didn't share their beliefs right away , though ... it was one thing to be glad about not being beat with a broom because he disliked the way angels were treated , and another thing to accept god into his life . so he didn't , for years . 

as far as he was aware , god was gone . this is what they taught in history classes . he knew that there were groups of people which still believed that god would come back , but there was never much room for thought about them . 

instead , he became an unruly teenager with massive abandonment issues . in his own quiet way he would be defiant of authority and his foster parents , thinking he owed nothing to the world because nothing owned him . nothing really owned him . not like a parent would . nothing like a real parent . 

in his rebellious years , ward experienced a taste of utterly wild youth , until the cancer was detected . he didn't tell anyone about the pain because a part of him wanted it to be a sickness . a part of him wanted to die . a part of him wanted to see what else there was , or wasn't . a part of him always felt like it was living in darkness , anyway . 

he was rushed to the hospital after collapsing down the flight of stairs in his house , effectively fracturing a wrist along the way . after hours of waiting for test results , the news was broken that he had bone cancer in his lower right leg -- right below his kneecap . in the end ward didn't know what to do with the information . he was both terrified and trying to convince himself that it's what he wanted . he was eighteen , about to turn nineteen . 

his foster parents offered the support they could . it wasn't their obligation to pay for ward's hospital bills , or to make sure he was receiving the right treatment , or to make sure he was fine at all , but they took a bit of the burden upon themselves and tried their best to give him mental and emotional support by using the lord's word . 

it was determined that he'd receive almost immediate surgery to remove the cancer before it spread any further -- and through this process ward thought he reached the lowest low with his mental health , but he hadn't been told the surgery had failed yet . that came months after . 

the pain subsided for a while , just for a few months , and then it grew unexpectedly . on his next long stay at the hospital , he was scheduled for an amputation . this was both a period of a total darkness and the appearance of a blazing light . it was when he lost a part of his body but gained a powerful part of his soul when he opened his heart to god . 

after his surgery , ward began recovery and got fitted with an artificial leg . it felt like a beginning , more than anything . in a way he felt like accepting god into his life was almost like being reborn , and he had to learn to walk again . 

when he left the hospital , his entire focus went to studying the word of the lord . his faith grew everyday , praying to god and having the hope that he was listening , praying for his return -- learning what true desire meant . 

his plans to fuck pursuing an education were replaced by the drive to get into a college and major in bible studies . he had the support from his denominational committee to become a reverend for the church he had been occasionally attending during his long term stay at his foster home to indulge his foster parents , but more recently visited several times a week to pray and attend sermons . 

the church was about to close its doors due to the pastor falling ill and unable to tend to it -- there weren't many believers who could fill up the spot , and the church did close for three years while ward studied and did all of the requirements , until a new pastor had it reopened at the nick of time for ward , who right after started working there as a reverend under the guidance of his new pastor . 

nowadays you can find him in the church , giving studies on the different teachings of the bible and occasionally given the opportunity to deliver sunday sermons . 

HIS BELIEFS //

i wanted to include a section for his beliefs since they are a massive part of his life !!

ward has faith that god did not forsake the angels , or humans , and that he will come back . he prays everyday for his return , having the faith that he is listening .

he tries not to question god for the things that have happened , but sometimes he gets a desperate feeling in his chest that has him crying out ' why ? ' . the angels .... rlly haunt him .  he prays a ton for them , but he also can't help but wonder why they fell ... why god left . why would he allow the angels to suffer as much as they have ? as much as they are suffering 

it ... really fucks him up so bad . he often has breakdowns about it . there are two opposite sides playing tug of war inside of him -- one of them is the one that's winning most of the time , the one that doesn't dare question god , and the other side is one who only has small victories but tugs with the force of tidal waves that literally leave him shaking -- the secret side that contemplates whether god is good . 

it burns him a li ve haha a 

although that secret side of him exists , it's something he also prays about . he doesn't want to question god , or have his faith waver , but goddamn ... it's tough when he sees all of the shit the angels are put through ... it really hurts his heart so much . 

that being said , he is not hostile at all toward angels . or thinks he is above them in any way form or shape . he actually worships angels , and hopes for their safety above all else . that is why he is a part of the resistance and would not hesitate to help an angel , in whatever form . he believes they are god's perfect creations that have been tainted by human sins . 

regarding other aspects of his life, though: ward repents for allowing god into his life only until he needed it and not when he was at his doorstep . he repents for all of the sins he's committed in the past and for the sins he continues to commit . he no longer drinks , smokes , or parties . he also doesn't get tattoos anymore unless they're connected to god or religion , and even then , he has only gotten a small tattoos of crosses on his chest and another cross on his right hand . 

HIS PERSONALITY/SMALL FACTS ///

although ward is welcoming of other people and relationships , especially in a church setting ... he can also be hesitant . he will give advice and try to guide anyone who seeks his help with the word of god , and he will listen to people's troubles and be with them in times of need ... but he doesn't do this himself . he keeps it all pent inside and really only speaks to god about what's going on inside of him . 

he has a very long past of abandonment and trust issues that it's almost like an instinct to close himself away but he's trying to heal those parts of himself . just needs some time and all the faith he can have !

with that being said , if you meet him outside of the church , he can come off as very withdrawn , especially in a mundane setting . he tends to be soft spoken and serious , though he's also got some wild in him that loves to laugh and have a good time . you just kinda have to figure out how to get to it . 

it's not really easy getting to know him . he's very private about his personal life and it's very rare when he opens up about something personal , unless he's talking to his pastor .

he doesn't really talk about his experience with cancer either . it was a really tough time in his life that he hasn't healed from and part of him probably never will . the only times when he openly talks about it is when he's retelling his experience of how he let god into his life .

also ! he uses a wooden cane . at first he needed it during his recovery , because it made standing up so much easier and he didn't have to lean on people or tables or chairs . then, he decided to keep the cane with him at all times after one occasion in which he supported himself on a glass table as he stood up and the glass broke and fell on his foot ........ but thank god it fell on his prosthetic foot because that would've hurt like a bitch .

so now his cane is like .... an extension of himself . kind of like how people can't leave their house without their phones , except more important to him . 

he also never mentions it unless someone asks why he uses it . he'll just say he has some leg problems , and if they continue to ask , he'll wonder why they're being nosy and reluctantly say he's got a prosthetic leg . talking to people about it or easily saying he has a prosthetic leg just doesn't come to him . 

going into a new topic, ward doesn't really have a sexual preference , and he doesn't have many sexual tendencies . or romantic ones . he's very unconcerned about a love life in general right now . the closest he gets to experiencing romantic love is when he's performing a wedding ceremony . he has dated in the past though , especially during his teenage years , but he hasn't been in a relationship for a few years now . 

he doesn't tend to go by dacey . there's no real reason why ... he was just called ward as a child by teachers and some foster parents so it stuck around . he introduces himself as ward but doesn't really mind being called dacey ... just throws him off a bit at first , he's not used to it . 

so ! i think i'm gonna leave it off there !! this entire post was pure word vomit fhiusdhf but if you have any plots/connections in mind don't hesitate to hmu , i'll be very excited about them . i'm sorry for the massive mess this was fhdsui but i'm rlly excited to get rolling !! see u on the dash/ims my friens

[i4z-0892-il]

Eggshells 6

Author: Jena @i4z-0892-il

Summary: AU Serial Killers Sam and Dean Winchester find themselves in a bind when the Reader gets caught in the cross-hairs of their plans.

Pairing: Sam x Reader, Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2,001

Warnings: dark!fic, NSFW, 18+, Very graphic descriptions of violence, mature themes, death, mentions of death, torture abuse, language, assault

A/N: This has been one of my favorite fics to work on and I’m pretty proud to share it with you guys, so if you felt something please let me know. I literally survive off of your feedback.

Inspired by my girl @alphvjensen’s incredible story Sex and Violence

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12

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Red droplets splattered across your hands had your eyes transfixed, relinquishing you to a state of catatonia,your mind shutting off in the horror of the sensory overload you'd just endured. You just killed a man. The circumstances didn't matter, none of it made sense. You just killed a man. He was just alive, screaming for help and you killed him. The wet thud as the ax buried itself deep in his clavicle echoed in your head. The warm spray of red on your face was a sensation straight out of a nightmare, but you weren't dreaming, no... If you had been dreaming you'd wake up safe and sound in your bed. Instead you were trapped,Dean's words barreled through your head, you were one of them. He was right, you couldn't leave now, what would you say to the police if you did manage to get free now? You murdered a man, to save your own life. If you hadn't you'd be a dust red stain on the floor too.

“He didn't deserve to die...” You muttered meekly. You didn't deserve to live, not after that. “I....I killed him.”

“Yeah sweetheart, you did.” Dean said, as he crouched at your side admiring your handiwork. “You know, I wasn't sure if you'd do it or not.” He stated, unlatching the magazine from the hilt of his pistol.,“but a killer will always recognize another one.” He finished as he dropped the clip into your dirty hands.

Empty.

You met his eyes mortified by what you'd done, and by what was left unspoken between the lines. The stench of copper and death hung heavy in the stagnant air leaving you little room to breathe. “Oh my god.” You whispered the world spinning around you threatening to pull you under. He took your face in rough, large hands, and pressed his forehead to yours.

“God doesn't exist Y/n. And if he does, he doesn't care. Not about you, not about me, not even about devout Jimmy over there. There is only one power in this world, and now it lives in your hands.” Dean said almost lovingly. You shook your head in defense not willing to even entertain the ideas he was trying to sow in your head.

“No.”

“Yes, Y/n.”

“No!” You shouted, everything around you, the world as you knew it scattering like ash in the wind. Any chance at living a normal life after this forever dashed with once fell swoop.

“Yes! Tell me you didn't feel powerful. Tell me that you didn't feel more alive than you'd ever felt!” He demanded, searching for the truth in your eyes, when you couldn't respond he got his answer. “You're a killer Y/n. Just like me.”

“No!” You snapped. “I'm not like you! You made me!”

“I didn't make you do anything, you have proof in your hands-you were never in any danger.” He said softly, his thumb running over a dot of blood and smearing it across your cheek.”You look beautiful in red.” He said before standing and leaving you alone in the cellar with your corpse.

“You what?!” Shouted Sam angrily. He'd never felt such heat course through his veins in his life.

“I said I took care of it.” Den said nonchalantly as he pulled a swig from her beer; number 8. Who gave a shit how the problem was solved as long as it was solved. You hadn't left the cellar, hadn't even tried, he knew he'd won. There was no need for restraints anymore, you were stuck there now.

“No, Dean, you didn't take care of it. You forced her into this, she had no other choice.” Sam spat venomously.

“She had a choice, and personally I think she chose right.”

“You made her believe you were going to shoot her in the head if she didn't!” Sam shot back. “Dean you've done countless stupid things in the past but this one takes the fucking cake. I told you to wait until I figured out our next move! Not to fill her head with your gas lighting bullshit!” He couldn't even believe he was having to explain just how wrong the entire situation was. “You know, maybe we should have let her go, maybe it's time you were caught.” Sam said, knowing that even if he could go back in time he would have still followed Dean's lead. There were times though, that he wished he was just a little stronger, strong enough to say enough was enough, to just fess up and tell the police everything. But it was Dean, the only flesh and blood he had left in the world, and without him... He couldn't even imagine what life would be like without his brother. This was different though, this was too far, and he couldn't even stand to look at him.

“What would you have done if she'd refused? What then? We'd have two people to deal with because you can't fucking think things through!”

“She wouldn't have refused.” Dean said too nonchalantly. “And it wouldn't have mattered if she did anyways, the guy  would still be dead, and not my problem.” Without another word Sam turned away from Dean and walked out of the house. “Oh Sam don't go away mad, just go away.” Dean called after him. The door slammed behind Sam leaving Dean alone again in the home that haunted him. He sat in silence for what felt like an eternity, his eyes trained hard on the floor. His stomach twisted into tight knots,a sickening fog creeping in around the edges of his sanity. There was little light left there, and after what he'd done today  he wasn't sure if there was much hope for any of the light returning. Sam was right, he'd gone way too far this time, he couldn't allow himself to admit it, he was not only too stubborn and prideful to admit he was wrong but if he did, how could he ever look at himself again.? The smell of vanilla settled around him easing the tension in his mind. He turned his eyes to the side, not wanting to move too quickly, knowing just how elusive she was, but he needed her there with him more now than ever before.

“Dean what are you doing?” He could almost hear her whisper a cool breath against his cheek.

“I don't know Lis...” He muttered his voice straining, desperate to feel her touch, to have her sweep away his troubles. “I miss you so fucking much Lisa, I don't know what Im doing without you” He should have never put you in that situation, it was too late for regrets now though. Nothing could undo the things that had been set in motion, and no amount of mourning could have brought her back.“She reminds me so much of you. I don't know what to do without you, and she- she's changing everything.”

“Is that so bad?” He heard her this time clear as day, but when he turned to face her she was gone, leaving nothing more than the faint smell of perfume, and the room somehow colder, and emptier than it had ever been. Beer was no longer a strong enough solution for his problems, he stumbled to the kitchen breaking out the whiskey. He paused for a moment deciding whether or not to drink himself to death or not.

Long legs carried him to your side swiftly, Sam knelt at your side. You hadn't moved all day, your eyes firmly on Jimmy's lifeless body. “This wasn't your fault.” He said softly, you turned to him and held the barren gun clip to him.

“I did this.” You choked.

“No Y/n, don't let him get in your head, he did this.”

“I could have done something, I could have fought back. I could have freed him, I could have chosen to let him live. I- I killed him.” You admitted, the flood of everything coming out by saying it out loud. “Sam I killed him!” You sobbed, your body going limp as you caved. He pulled you tightly to his chest as your hysterics reached critical mass. No matter how much you didn't want to believe Dean he was right. Something in you had surged with a terrible excitement, even if it was only a fleeting moment, it was there, and you had no idea how hungry it could be.

He simply held you as you rode out the emotional train wreck that wreaked havoc on your entire self. In the moment Sam became a solid grounding rock, one you hadn't needed in the past, but in the whirlwind 72 hours you weren't able to even comprehend how far off the reservation you'd flown. He held you tightly an with just enough pressure to force some sanity back to a mind past the brink. It'd never occurred to you what you might actually do to survive. Everyone likes to think they'd do the right thing, after all isn't self-sacrifice the most noble thing a person can do? You'd always thought of yourself as a humanitarian, willing to help and learn, if someone was injured you figured you'd try your best to help. But thinking of yourself as a good Samaritan was easy, the doing in the face of your own demise on the other hand- an entirely different matter.

For a moment time hung still in the air as the razor-edged blade of the ax sliced through the air carving through flesh and bone like butter on a warm day. The spray of warm red sizzled electric across any exposed skin; a shock of thunder had quaked your very core as soulful blue eyes locked unreadable on yours. The life drained from him and into you through your fingers, the dangerous might of power coursed through your veins triumphantly. It was the single greatest, and most shameful high you'd ever experienced in your life. It churned your stomach, but not for the reasons it should have, you were disgusted not by the fact that you'd murdered that man, but because you'd enjoyed it. Dean's words crashed through your head like a freight train uprooting your foundations, forcing you to question everything you'd ever known, everything you'd ever thought about yourself.

“You're one of us now.”

Sam watched you lose yourself, the thousand yard stare on your face driving him beyond reason. He couldn't justify Dean's actions anymore, and he couldn't continue to stand idly by and allow the disease of death that followed his family infected and suffocated yet another innocent life. His mind was set and he ran through his plan quickly. He shook you gently, rousing you from your thoughts.

“We're leaving.” He said taking you by the arms to help you stand. A cold chill shot through your body as you started to pull away involuntarily shaking your head.

“No Sam, he said he'd kill me if I tried to leave again.” You pleaded.

“No, no I won't let that happen. I promise Y/n. He won't lay a hand on you again, ever. We're leaving.” He coaxed easing you out of the cellar with as much patience as one could possibly have while in a hurry. He tucked you into the passenger seat of his sleek black charger. He slipped in and backed away carefully, silently. Your heart thumped erratically in your chest as you waited with nervous gaze to the house expecting Dean to crash through the door and shoot you both before you even leave the drive way. Through all of your frazzled nerves Sam remained calm and unmoved, he gripped your hand almost immediately quelling your anxiety. That was just Sam, collected in everything he ever did- careful, methodical. The second he felt he was far enough from the house he hit the gas and tore down the road.

Tags: @roseangel013bf, @sanityoverrated27, @nibeca, @deanlenaotp, @deanandsamsbitch, @classyjellyfishpoetry, @sarahbearccxc, @smiling-meerkat, @goldenangelbloodcastiel, @pearlparty, @aquabrie, @lindsaylove1226, @notnaturalanahi, @mogaruke, @deansbitch1967, @ladylustitia, @supernatastic101art

[tiffstasiaarchivejr-blog]

a year without two | alyssa nova 

a total plagiarism but it's gross o'clock in the morning and i woke up from a dream that I don't recall so don't bother asking and i'm still bitter so here have corresponding diary entries to go with the excerpts from the worst year of andrew nova’s life: a saga

fall

I thought he couldn't sink any lower but then the sun is coming up and his frown is going further down. Annie was a lying ass bitch, the sun ain't coming out tomorrow. Or the next day. Or any day until Bianca's home. 

I remember what he was like when he lost her--Adriana. When he lost Adriana. We hadn't been extremely close at that point but we'd been close enough to where I could see that the needle in his compass had been snapped off and buried with the love of his life. He was devastated and for awhile, I wasn't even sure if Bianca would be enough to save him from his grief, his anger. He still has little reminders of her around, I don't know if he knows I know but I've seen the painting she never got to finish in storage. She definitely had talent. And she definitely knew where her life was supposed to be going judging by the signature on a corner in the back. Adriana Nova. Sometimes I wonder if there's days where he might love the memory of her more than he loves the reality of me but, that's probably just Aly de Luca talking, right? Anyway, I’m getting sidetracked. I've got to get dinner on the table. 

Scarlett can't sit still for the life of her. It took me two hours to get her hair into the Leia buns. TWO HOURS. if I'd known she would be so bouncy in every aspect of her life I would have never signed her up for those gymnastic classes. She was headed to yet another Star Wars marathon at Mason's and said she loved whenever her big sister would wear her hair like that, did I have time to do hers? It's funny, isn't it? Scarlett asking someone if they have time for something. I didn't actually but I made the time. When it's her doing the asking, you find yourself creating all the time in the world for that beautiful soul. I cried once she was gone on her way. I remember the first time I had to fix Bianca's Leia buns when she was a kid, Drew couldn't do it to save his life, bless his heart. 

He was young but I was younger. He was a father at sixteen years old, stumbling his way through it all like a blind man in a maze. He had no clue how to be a father and I only knew how to be a friend but just like him, I learned too. I learned how to swaddle Bianca just the way she liked to stop her fussing. I learned the best place to test a bottles temperature and I learned all about the horrors of changing a diaper when Drew just couldn't shoulder every waking moment on his own anymore. I spent some nights there, looking back I'm shocked my parents let me but I guess they trusted Drew or at least remembered what being younger parents was like? Or maybe they knew there was no stopping me. I fell asleep in school a few times, cried in my car before leaving where he was living at the time because I was just so damn tired but also so inexplicably sad for him. He couldn't do it on his own yet he had no choice. I was just a kid landing a hand, being there when he needed to vent out the anger that was lashing in everyone's direction, when he needed to yell, when he needed to be silent. When he needed to cry and the very almost non-existent rare times when I could pull a smile or a laugh from the broken boy. I was just a kid, shouldering grief far beyond my years in order to help him cope with his. I was falling in love with a guy who loved a ghost. Some days I wanted to remember my age, remember the youth I could be celebrating and dropping away from him, protecting myself from the hurt that was surely going to come from crushing on someone so broken. Someone who would vow that he was ever going to love again, that it was just going to be him and Bianca. But I didn't. Because I was going to be the person who reminded him that it didn't need to be that way as long as he had friends, had help. When he lost Adriana, he lost whatever sliver of innocence he had left but maybe when I gave him mine, he was able to reclaim enough of his own to battle back. I'd do it again, even if it didn't lead to us one day becoming more than we were those nights Bianca wouldn't sleep. I'd do it because the world couldn't bare to lose a man like he would become when he learned how to be a father.

Rhys was out, Scarlett was out, it was just us here tonight. It was supposed to be a date night but once Good Will Hunting played, his attention seemed elsewhere for the rest of the night. Now, I'm in bed and his study door is closed. I'm living with a man haunted by a ghost again. 

He's never going to stop beating himself up. 

winter

It's Christmas and all I want to do is cry. I miss my daughter.

I wish he would just go talk to her. Tell her that he knows what she's going through. That he's felt the same bitter bite of betrayal that she has. I wish she would talk to him. Hear him out. I wish I could go back and know what was going on. Know she was falling in love and know Andrew had that kid marked for death. Retribution never seemed so ugly before. 

 Mason and Wyatt's heads are actually officially empty. It's confirmed. 

Some days I'm so angry at him I want to scream. Some days I'm so upset with her for leaving and staying gone this long I want to give up hope. Can anyone blame me? But he's still my husband, love of my life. And she's still my daughter.

Part of me wants to remind him how old she is, where we were each at her age. But that's not going to do me any favors or him any good. Sure, I also want her home with us again, I miss having her around. She's one of my best friends. And sure, this storm has me worried about her and Marisol but...god, is a little baby it's cold outside loving really so out of the question???????

He talked about Seb today. About how he's become just like him and how he hopes it's not going to stay so bad between them forever like it was with him and his father. His anger with Seb would probably have been marked on his headstone had Seb not taken care of his own arrangements years and years prior. I hope so too. I hope they can work this out. I want my family back. I want his good days to stick around longer. 

 spring

I'm such a fucking idiot. My entire body aches. Who tries to tackle the tending of an entire garden all in one go? This dumbass. God, I never had to pee so bad before and I ended up failing as a mother and a wife when Rhys ordered takeout because I hadn't come in and it didn't look like I ever would. But I bet I'm going to have a boss garden this year so, they'll live the one day I didn't supermom it.

 I have no idea what came over him or where his mind had been today but good god that was some great sex. 

 What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, right?.....

Happy Birthday. I hope someone remembered your favorite cake. 

summer 

It's like Drew knows something. Nothing is off per-say but it seems like something is heavy on his mind, a burden he's not letting me share and it’s not everything going on with Bianca. He’s been okay lately, everything’s been smooth but now, I don’t know. I know there's stuff he sometimes doesn't want to talk about and he tries to shield me from aspects of his job but I just hate seeing his shoulders and mind heavy.

Rhys made a face today that made him look exactly like Ted. It gets hard sometimes without Bee around because it's harder to remember how despite their birth parents, im her mother and Ted Roman has nothing to do with Andrew and my son. No Roman ever will, not while I'm alive.

I wanted to call Bianca a few times today, see if she wants to at least meet up somewhere. Maybe do lunch, get out together and just catch up. I see her at times but..it almost feels wrong, seeing her without Drew. It’s not fair to him and I hate feeling like I’m doing something horrid behind his back when all I’m doing is seeing my daughter. I can’t take much more of this. Something needs to give. I didn’t call. I just texted her a few funny photos of Scarlett. I know she loves having ammo again her little big sister.

Rhys is pulling away. I think it’s just his age, he doesn’t want to live under mom and dad anymore but I also feel like it might have something to do with his charade of a relationship with Liv. I think it’s starting to become more real than fake to him, when did that start? How did I miss the twinkling in his eye as he’s realizing he’s crushing on someone important? And Scarlett, she’s been seeing Elijah and I didn’t even know. We used to joke about boys together, me and my two girls. Cries of mom stop when I’d talk about their father, giggles in one of their bedrooms late into the night as we talked like girlfriends do. Me and my two best friends. God, I’ve been so focused on Andrew lately that my kids have reached that final stage in life where Mom is just...well, their mother. I think they don’t need me anymore, I checked out on them a little too much to be their friend. I wish Bianca was here. She would drag all of us out to mini-golf, make us watch some lame movies from their childhoods when we got back in. Fight with Scarlett over the last slice of pizza and nearly get a concussion in the process. I need my girl. My first girl, my baby girl who raised me as much as I helped Drew figure out how to raise her until Mason took over and I drifted out for a bit. I just need my daughter back. My happy little family. Back to the days where it was just Scarlett that was hard to find around the house. Please, someone give me back my family.

When you’re bitter over your youngest child’s incredible success because the anniversary of it just reminds you that your family has been shattered for nearly a year now. I’m sorry Scar. I wish I could have been more enthused as you roped us into rewatching the games. I just...I can’t face another year without Bianca around the house, getting into everything and ragging on her siblings. I just can’t. And I don’t think Drew can either. It’ll kill him.

Andrew and Rhys are going to London and he’s barred me from this trip. We haven’t been on a vacation in what feels like forever but I’m not going to push it. He’s so on edge lately, stressed out. I’ll let him go work and then maybe I can coax him into a holiday together. Just the two of us. I’ll promise to bring that swimsuit of mine he likes the best. And just give him that knowing wink when he says he doesn’t have a favorite swimsuit of mine. Just me and him. Like when we’d sneak kisses in the kitchen while Bianca and Rhys slept and Mason was banished over to Gia’s. At least throughout all this, even on the bad days, my husband still had a little love somewhere for me. Even when I’d turn my back on him in anger, he’d still lay there in bed next to me, an arm ready to hold me in close when I finally forgave him and rolled towards him. He’s going to London and maybe it’s better I don’t go there, I’ve always been hesitant in the past about it anyways. I’ll be waiting for him when he gets home. Because I’m Alyssa Nova, Andrew Nova’s wife. Mother to three kids, no matter how many live under the roof right now, I’ll always be that. 

Bianca’s coming over while he’s gone. I think I need to finally do something about this all. I know what has to be done. I know what I need to do. I have to risk Andrew being upset with me but I just...this needs to end.

[do-i-know-you-xx]

LOL

1. You woke up naked next to the last person you texted, what would you say? lol caitie im naked sorry

2. What’s going on between you and the last person you kissed? rn: nothing but seein him on thursday probably

3. If your boyfriend or girlfriend was into drugs, would you care? depends on how into drugs they are and which drugs

4. Is your last name longer than six letters? no

5. Was your last kiss drunk or sober? abit drunk

6. Have you ever wanted to have someone but you messed it up? Not really actaully

7. What does your last received text say? “usually i finish at 5:30″

8. How many times have you kissed the last person you kissed? Twice

9. Where was your last kiss at? A gig

10. When is the last time you saw your sister?  dont have one

11. What do you drink in the morning? soy milk

12. Where did you sleep last night? in ma bed (for once)

13. Do you think relationships are hard? YES

14. If you could go back and change something in the past 5 months, would you? i would change that i let him walk off the other night when i should have walked with him lol so dumb and little but true

15. You’re locked in a room with the last person you kissed, any problems? A few problems afterwards probably

16. Would you rather it be sunny or rainy? sunny

17. Do you know anyone with the same middle name as you? My brother lol

18. Are you wearing jeans,sweatpants,or pajama pants? A skirt and tights

19. Do you think you will be in a relationship 3 years from now? Truthfully- yeah i do

20. Does anyone like you? I hope so lol

21. Have you ever kissed someone with a name that starts with an S? NO so weird 

22. Is the last person you kissed gay? for once NO haven;t kissed any gays for a few weeks

23. Is there a person you CANNOT stand? YEs 

24. Have you ever considered getting a tattoo? yeah i still am

25. In the past week have you cried? I cried this morning because my stomach was rlly hurting

26. What breed was the last dog you saw? labrodor! A lil puppy black one

27. Do you dry off in the shower or out of the shower? out of the shower

28. Have you ever kissed a football player? no 

29. Do you think you’re old? no i wish i was older sometimes

30. Do you like text messaging? yeah,mostly

31. What type of day are you having? a pretty good one

32. Have you ever thought about getting your nose pierced? Ive got it lol

33. Do you prefer warm or cold weather? warm- but i like wearing jackets so also like the cold

34. Is there a person of the opposite sex who means a lot to you? There’s a ton

35. Would you prefer a relationship or a fling? relationship lol

36. Are you a simple or complicated person? complicated 

37. What song are you listening to? london grammar - rooting for you

38. When you say you’re sorry do you mean it? yes 39. Is there a girl that knows everything or almost everything about you? no :( not anymore 40. What made you start liking the person you like now? the way he complimented me and cared about stuff 41. When did you last receive a text message? A few hours ago 42. What is wrong with you right now? my stomach hurts 43. How well do you know the last female you texted? Really well- in a outer sense  44. Does anyone disgust you? yes :( i hope they learn to get better and be less mean and inconsiderate  45. Would you date someone right now if they asked? if it was the right someone 46. Are you in a good mood right now? half and half 47. Who was the last person you talked to in person? My brother  48. What color shirt are you wearing? brown 49. Has someone recently told you something you didn’t want to hear? yes (bloody ash) 50. Anyone you’re giving up on? no - im still rooting for them 51. Do you hate the person you fell hardest for? i dont hate anyone anymore

52. Have you ever thought about giving up on someone but couldn’t? yes 53. Do you like rain? yes - mostly when im inside 54. Do you care if your boyfriend/girlfriend drinks? no 55. Have you ever liked somebody and never told them? YES i never tell them i wait for them to tell me 56. Do you like to cuddle? yeah  57. Are you shy? I was - i still am sometimes 58. Do you get along with girls? I wish i got along with more girls 59. Have you dated the person you texted last? No  60. What do you carry with you at all times? A pen and paper/ my phone 61. If you were paid 1 million dollars to spend the night in a supposed haunted house, would you? Yeah very cool 62. Do you think you can last in a relationship for five months? Of course 63. Think back to October, were you in a relationship? No- well/ i was ‘seeing someone’ 64. The person you like kisses you on the forehead, do you find this cute? Probs not actually not my thing 65. Did anything “cute” happen in the last week? Yeah :( my heart was so full

66. How old are the last three people you kissed? 26, 19, 21

67. Would you rather pay to get your nails done or do them yourself? Do them myself 68. Which do you like better- Zebra print or leopard print? Leopard or neither 69. Do you have any stickers on your car?    no 70. Would you rather listen to Luke Bryan or Lil Wayne?  Neither hahah 71. Blackberry, Anroid, or iPhone?    Iphone 72. When’s the last time you had pizza from Pizza Hut?   last week hahaha 73. Do you like diet soda?    No 74. What color are the walls in your room?  White 75. Are you 16 or older?    Yes i’m 20  76. Do you watch Pretty Little Liars?    I did when i was younger 77. Do you have a job?   I do   78. What are your initials?    S.T 79. Did you ever have braces?    No 80. Are you from the south?    No

81. What does your last status on facebook say?    “went to Skegss and reviewed & Leila Maulen took photos! what a dream team <3″ 82. Do you still talk to the first person you ever kissed?    YES hes the best i was so lucky 83. Are you closer to your mom or your dad?    my mum- but im really close with both my parents 84. Have you ever done cheerleading or gymnastics?    No 85. What’s the last movie you saw in theaters?    Dance Academy  86. Do you smoke?    No 87. Would you rather wear heels or flip flops?    Flip flops  88. Is your phone touch screen?   Yes  89. Do you normally wear your hair straight or curly?    curly 90. Have you ever snuck out of your house?   no  91. Would you rather swim in a river, lake, or pool?    lake idk haha 92. Have you ever made out in a car?  NO 93. …Had sex in a car? NO    94. Are you single or in a relationship?    Single right now in this moment haha 95. What were you doing last night at midnight?  Reading a book - trying to sleep  96. When’s the last time you saw fireworks?    The other night in the city 97. Do you like the camera on your phone?    Yeah it does the job 98. Have you ever had a friend with benefits?  Yeah ish 99. Have you ever passed out from drinking?    No haha 100. Are you friends with people on facebook that you actually hate?  No i usually delete people i really dislike anyways or just dont add them in the first place 101. Have you ever had a pregnancy scare?   No 102. Name your favorite Kesha song:    Tik Tok ofc 103. Do you have any tan lines right now?    Yeah rip i always hav them lol 104. Would you ever wear cowboy boots with shorts?   YEAH SURE