#'what is the top unexplained thing you wished to be explained?'

[tolkien-feels]

If you could ask Tolkien one question about his work what would it be?

If I could only ask one question, I would show him somehow everything that Christopher has published and say "I have read all of this - what thing about your work do you consider important but cannot be, or at least has not been, inferred from what has been printed?" Of course, he might just say "I've said everything I wanted to say" (and if anything, I suspect he would be mortified to know Christopher has published so many of his youthful and incomplete drafts tbh lol), but then, he might also say "One thing I really wanted to convey but am not sure if I succeeded was ........" or "I never got around to writing this thing" or some other interesting idea.

If not this, then I would ask another open-ended question. I wouldn't ask him to clarify lore or back up any theories or anything like that, I would want to know what things he would consider important things to tell to a reader. And if he decided to troll me (which, given his sense of humor, he just might), it'd still be a more memorable experience, I feel, than just treating him as a trivia machine or a wiki. I would hope, if I could, to connect to him on a human level, as someone who values his subcreations as an art form. If you're read Leaf by Niggle - I would want to encourage Niggle to share with me what is so special about his beloved leaf, not ask if I got the name of the paint he used right, or even ask him to tell me more about the tree.

[xan-izme]

"Bad Guy" (Dad!jake x Villian Daughter reader)

Summary: Jake didn't just leave you on a rotting planet, he did so much more. He barely showed his fatherly side to you, he was on Marin mode 24/7. The night before he left was what pushed you to the edge, after years of him not returning, was your braking point. He left you, his own daughter and betrayed his own race. If he can do that, what's wrong with leaving behind your own humanity?

TW: Death, mentions of death, child neglect, drinking, manipulation ect.

tag list: @kkkmm @myh3artttt

How far can you push a child's love and loyalty. Till they no longer can tell the difference between the two?

Raising children is known to be a very complicated task. But it was a part of life. Parenting is tricky, anything you do or say will affect your child's behavior.

Jake didn't think like that. You were his first child, a girl at that. Your mother was just a one night stand, but he did know her. She was a friend from before he lost his legs.

When you were born, he was already in a bad spot. So a child being dumbed on him in his situation wasn't the best.

So, when raising you, he tried his best to show you that the planet they were on was cruel, and that you need to fend for yourself sometimes. He might have been harsh with his words, but you had some sort of understanding that it wasn't out of meanness. Jake was strict. Set up curfews, schedule for all classes and hang outs. Knowledge of your whereabouts was a must.

But all of that understanding and balance you two had, was quick to shatter. The night before Jake was to leave for Pandora, he was drinking. Yes, Jake drinks a lot, and you know that.

But his twin brother just passed, for the paper he had in his pocket. Sadly, you came back home 15 minutes late.

So, when you tried to get Jake to bed, he was just complaining about you coming late.

Jake was grumbling something while you were trying to clean up the bottles that were laying around.

He complained about the military, about his parents, the people and his twin.

"And you, Y/n"

You stood in place, watching your father point at you, bottle of alcohol in hand. "You killed your mother . . . and now, you're killing me."

Those words hit you like nothing before.

Jake threw the bottle towards you, it missed, but you wish it did hit you and just killed you.

The next morning, you locked yourself in your room. You refused to open the door. No matter how many times' Jake apologized, no matter how hard he begged.

His words of promises to come back and make it up to you, were probably the only thing that made you feel some type of sympathy. And hey, if he did come back, the two of you might have had a decent father and daughter relationship.

You just had to wait for 6 years or so.

Then 6 years turned into 8. 8 years turned into a decade. Then you got word of what Jake had done.

Betrayed his own race, fell in love with a native and started a whole new family. And on top of that! he got legs! isn't that lovely, good for him. And all Jake had to do was leave his pathetic, no-good daughter on a rotting planet to get the life of his dreams.

The amount of anger you felt could not be explained. Wanting to take revenge, wanting your old man to feel unexplainable pain you had been suffering. You applied for a spot in the RDA. Specifically, in the Daja blue group.

It took a lot of training and strings pulled for you to get in that program. But you got in, and once you showed your skills, you were immediately welcomed in.

"Ms. Sully-"

You held back the urge to give the operator a look, not liking being called but his name. But his name is a part of your plan. You want people to know that you're his, that you came from the same Jake Sully.

"Your Avitar is ready."

You hummed and followed the woman. You two passed many other avatars. Then finally came to a stop at one that oddly looked like you. You stared down at the young body.

You were currently in your mid 20's, but avatars are made to be way younger than you currently were. This one looks about 18 or 19. You didn't mind. As long as the body was capable of handling her plan for Jake.

You must say, Pandora was more beautiful than you expected. Such beauty shouldn't have been wasted on Jake. You honestly didn't care for Quaritche's reasons or his mission in general, all you wanted was to install fear and dread into Jake.

Thankfully, Quaritche seemed to not mind what your little mission was. The only thing you two had in common, was to put Jake down. Break him in unimaginable ways.

"Your one of his" Quaritche mumbled. But you heard what he said. Your ears perked as you slowly made your way to the small Na'vi boy. Now seeing by his fingers and looking closely at his face, he held a close resemblance to Jake, that caused you to stare rather hard.

You kneeled down and looked your half-brother in the eyes. You then heard a voice, a voice that you could never forget. You grabbed the innercom that was still connected to the boy's neck and tossed it to Quaritche. As the older man spoke to Jake, you grabbed your half-brothers face, examining it.

The boy growls and roughly moved his face out of your hand.

"Let us go you demons!" The boy hissed in his native tongue. You scoffed in amusement and took hold of his hand, roughly putting it in front of his face, then put your hand against his. Matching all five fingers.

"We are more similar than you think boy." Your words shocked the boy. Leaving him silent and confused.

You turned to go back to your original position, giving a glance to Jake's daughters. You glared at the smallest one.

When Jake brought the fight to them. Quaritche let you have a little time alone with Jake.

Your tail swished from side to side before pouching on Jake. Your fighting style was sloppy, but in a way that was nearly always unpredictable. Almost like you were some kind of; savage.

Jake threw you off him, causing you to land on all fours against a nearby tree. You hissed as you stood up slowly, your tail flickering side to side, your eyes had never left him.

"So mean papa. That really hurt" You licked the blood from your lips as you gave the man a toothy grin.

Jake frowns, that voice, was for some reason familiar to him. His eyes squinted as the figure stepped closer into the moonlight. Once you were in the light, it took him a second, but even in Na'vi form. He recognizes his own daughter.

"Y/n . . . ?"

Jake dropped his weapons as he slowly approached you.

"Y/n, my baby! how-" His hands hovered over your skin, before you stepped away.

The two of you stared at each other, in compleate silence. Suddenly, the sound of a helecopter came. You sighed

"Oh well, guess our time is up." You say in a disappointing tone, you turned to walk off and get back to the group.

"Next time, I won't go easy on ya!" You say with a playful tone, but the noticeable sadistic look you had said otherwise.

Chaos unlashed itself upon the Sully family. The children of Jake demanding to know more about the Avitar woman who claimed to also be a Sully. That night, Jake and Neytiri had to explain that Jake had a daughter back on earth, and the moment he betrayed his own race, he lost privileges of trying to bring his daughter to Pandora or at least try and contact her.

Jake thought about you every day, every second. Every time he treated his sons like soldiers, he was reminded of you, and what he had said that fitful night.

Lo'ak laid awake that night. Your words spinning in his mind. That small talk of how his father truly was. How Jake treated her worse than he was with them now. Lo'ak can barely tolerate how their father is now, so just thinking about how strict or harsh he was with you. He understood you were probably hurt, but he thought of some way to make you see what Lo'ak saw when Jake spoke about you. How much love he had with each word for you, speaking about you like he would for any of his children.

When Jake first saw you again, it was like a dream come true, but now, he feels like he sees you everywhere. You're becoming a nightmare for him, all because of that first interaction you two had, if you knew of this, you would be laughing at how pathetic Jake was to easily be this way.

Even though Neytiri saw you as a traitor and a threat to her family, Jake still saw you as his little girl. His sweet baby girl that he left. The little girl he had the nerve to treat like a soldier. Guess this was Jake's harsh reminder that he was raising a daughter back then.

The Jake now can never imagine treating Kiri and Tuk the way he did with you, it hurts him.

You didn't want to hurt anyone but Jake. That doesn't mean you care for the life around you, no, if killing the ones Jake loved the most would drive Jake to the breaking point like you wished? you would have done that long ago.

You kneeled down to Lo'ak and made sure he was tied properly.

"Why are you doing this! aren't you, our sister??" Lo'ak was trying to reason with you. Trying to make you see what you were doing was wrong. You sighed and gave him a small smile while caressing his head.

"Oh, sweet little brother. You are too young to understand."

"I wan't daddy . . ." Tuk mumbled out a small whine. You shifted your eyes to her.

You stepped back and examined the two. "you two think our father is such a hero. A noble man who loves his family more than anything. But your wrong, the moment you slip up, he turns on you. . . . Did you know what he said to me before he left?"

Lo'ak and Tuk stayed silent as they kept their eyes on you.

"He said that all I had to do was wait for 6 years, then he'll be back, and make up for what he had done to me. Then 6 years turn into 8, then it turned into a decade. . . . It took 10 years for me to realize I didn't need him. And that he didn't want me." You never told your small sob story to anyone, and you surprisingly didn't feel that shitty about what your life had become.

"Your wrong."

Lo'aks words brought you back. You tilt your head a little.

"Oh?"

"Dad loves you! He told us what happened and he's sorry. He regrets everything and all he wants is you to be with him again! h-he loves you and always did." You hum in amusement

"He loves me . . . . How interesting."

Your plan just changed, and in the best way possible.

Jake didn't mean too. He didn't mean to shout at you that night, he didn't mean to leave you behind like he did, he didn't mean to turn you into what you had become now.

You coughed up blood, holding your stomach tight, where the stab wound was.

And most of all, he didn't mean for this to happen. Not to you . . . not by him of all people

"Y/n- I didn't . . . please come with me. Your hurt!" Jake pleaded. You stumbled back and hit the metal wall. You laughed as you slid down to the ground. You slowly looked up to Jake with teary eyes.

It really hurts. The burning pain was like nothing you felt before.

Jake rushed to your side and tried to lift you up. You stopped him and gripped his shoulder. "Hey, you love me . . . yeah?"

Jake didn't hesitate to answer "Yes! I love you. I love you so much." Jake held back a sob as he moved strands of hair away from your face. You sighed and slowly looked back up to him.

"Then, if you truly love me. You should take responsibility for this." Jake's ears slicked back.

"W-what?"

Your eyes were stone cold. Void of any emotion.

"Finish what you started--" You grabbed onto Jake's hand, the one he still had his blade in. Your blood stained with the sharp object.

"-- And if you truly loved me, you'd end it for me already."

Jake shook his head "no, I can still save you! you still have time-"

You cut Jake off "Look, Jake. My time is up. No use for pity now." You were rather done at this point. Just wanting it to be over with.

Jake took a long moment. But it happened. You held eye contact with your father as he stuck the blade in you once more, finishing you off. His salty tears mixing with the blood on your face.

Jake Sully lost his daughter that day. By killing her with his own hands.

So, in short, remember parents that children can be quite fragile in their early stages of life.

They can and will remember everything.

[babyonboard]

just hooking up. | jake ‘hangman’ seresin x f!reader

Summary: as a nurse for navy pilots at top gun, hooking up with one of your patients seems unprofessional. but for jake seresin, you’ll make an exception.

Word Count: 6,080

Warnings: mentions of, and a small amount of smut (minors dni), a little angst, slow(ish) burn, mentions of blood, intense medical scenarios.

I am not a nurse and I may get some shit wrong about hospitals. Also, I had to tweak some things about top gun to make this story work. Deal with it :)

It had just been a boring day in the office. Sitting silently in your room, you cleaned the medical table, the bed, and even got some organizing done for your cabinets. Humming a non-existent song, you were interrupted by the phone that sat outside of your door ringing. Swinging the door open, you answered.

The phone ringing usually meant one thing. Something had gone wrong in the field, and someone was on their way to you to get checked out. You hadn’t met anyone in the new pilot class yet, you had only seen a few of them coming in to get their physicals with the Doctor. Other than that, these new people were complete strangers to you. The thing about Top Gun was that usually, the problems were either very minor, in which you would receive a phone call that a pilot was on their way to you, or the problems were extremely major. You had only experienced one major problem, a couple years ago during your first year as a nurse at Top Gun. You didn’t like to think about it.

“Hello, medical ward.” You greeted, holding the old phone to your ear. Wrapping the cord around your finger, you mentally noted that, even though the hospital was tiny, you really needed a new phone.

“Hey, this is Captain Mitchel, I’ve got a pilot headed your way. We were fixing up his jet and a piece fell on him, he's got a pretty good gash on his arm.” He said. You could hear the muffled voices of other pilots laughing around him, making you almost sigh in relief at how small this problem seemed to be.

“Thank you Captain. We’ll take good care of him.”

“You’re the best.” You could practically hear him winking through the phone.

Seconds later, you heard the door in the lobby burst open, and two boys talking. You walked through the double doors towards them, and they both stopped talking to look at you. Fuck you thought. They were both cute.

“Hi gentlemen.” You smiled, suddenly self conscious about your decision to wear red lipstick this morning.

“Well what do we have here.” One of them said “I’ve never had a cute nurse before, I thought that those were a myth.” He smiled. You rolled your eyes and noticed the blood slowly running down his arm.

“Mav said he was gonna call you, but Hangman cut the shit out of his arm.” The other one said said, You noticed the dirty, oil stained towel they were holding to his wound on his bicep. Nice.

“I heard.” You said, stepping closer to them. Setting your hand lightly on the blonde's shoulder, you said, “Let's get you checked out.” You turned to the boy who had come with him. “Thank you Lieutenant, I'll take it from here.” He gave you a head nod and turned to walk out.

“Follow me.” You said. “Hangman, is it?”

“Yes ma’am. And you are?” He still had a paper white smile on his face. Unexplainably happy for someone with blood dripping from them.

“Y/N.” You stated.

“I like that name.” He said simply. You stopped in front of the door to your office and opened the door.

“Thank you.” you said as he walked inside. You walked in and patted the bed twice.

He got on the bed, his eyes never leaving you. He stared at your face, your red lips, and your figure. He started wishing he had cut his arm much sooner than today.

“So, how’d this happen?” You asked, turned around at the counter, wetting a new clean towel with sanitizer.

“I was fixing my jet. I scraped my wing on the side of a mountain and when I was replacing it, one of the pieces that got scraped came off and, well, this happened.” He explained. He seemed very nonchalant.

“Alright, well I’ll see what I can do, Lt.” You said, turning around. He still wore that award winning smile on his face.

“You can lay back.” You mentioned, lowering the back of his bed so he could lay down.

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” He smirked. Classy.

The cut was on the underside of his bicep, sort of near his armpit. You lightly grabbed his elbow, moving his arm so it was by his head. You could hear him breathing, and you could see his eyes on your face out of the corner of your eye, and you could see the seemingly never ending smirk that rested on his lips.

You took off the towel they had used, and you saw the gash for yourself. “Jesus” you breathed. “Stitches for sure.” You muttered under your breath. He shrugged.

“How are stitches a shrugging matter?” You laughed, placing your new towel over his wound.

“Used to it.” He shrugged again.

Sighing, you continued to disinfect his cut. He never winced or tensed, sometimes he even laughed, which you thought was strange. At some point, he changed his position from holding his arm up by his head to putting his hands on the back of his head, leaving him in a seemingly relaxed position. Again, strange. As you worked on him, you couldn't help but admire his muscles. They were extremely defined, especially in the position he was holding his arm.

“You know, gorgeous,” He started.

“Y/N” You interjected quickly.

“Same thing.” He quipped. “I think I might need to start getting hurt more often.”

And that’s exactly what he did.

Over the next several weeks, he had come in for a number of reasons. Which, not that you minded. It added something interesting to your day. Also, you liked seeing him. He was cute.

He came in for any reason you could think of. A “sprained ankle” that he needed ice for, but he couldn’t put the ice on it himself because he was “really sore” so you had to sit at the end of the bed, holding it on his ankle. He came in for a headache, a stomachache, a “sore hand”, and he even came in for a paper cut.

You noticed that each morning, you spent a little bit more time on your makeup in hopes you would see Hangman that day. You noticed that whenever the phone rang or whenever you got a knock on your door, your heart would skip a beat. This was a problem. You knew that Top Gun pilots come and go. The class only lasts upwards of 6 months. It had already been almost 2. You had no idea where he would go after this, and you didn’t want to fall for someone you might never see again.

One particularly early morning, your coffee still hot, you heard a knock on your door. Standing up, you adjusted your hair subconsciously. You opened the door to Hangman leaning on the door frame, giving you a puppy dog face.

You sighed with a smile. “What is it today, Hangman?”

“Good morning to you too, princess. And what did I say about calling me Hangman?” He half scolded with a smirk on his face. Uninvited, he makes his way into your office and sits down in his usual place on the bed.

“Right” you shut your eyes “Jake, sorry.”

“I forgive you.” He smiled his signature smile. “Is that a new necklace?”

Instinctively, you touched your neck. It was a new necklace. “Yeah, it is.”

“I like it. Pretty necklace on a pretty neck.”

The color of your face had to have changed in a second. “So… what is it?” You asked, sitting on your stool, changing the topic so you didn’t have to blush any longer.

“Well,” he started, bringing his hand in front of his face. “I have a hangnail.”

You put your face in your hands. “You have to be kidding me.”

“I know, it’s very tragic, I’m not kidding you.”

Defeated, you lifted your head. Wheeling your stool towards him, you said “Let me see it.”

He looked at his pinky. He studied it for a second then met your eyes. “I think it fell off.”

You stared at him. He stared right back. It was silent for a moment while the two of you tried not to laugh. He broke first, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips. It made you push away your own smile, and you had to look away, and before long, you both were laughing.

As the laughing died down, he took a deep breath to compose himself. “Okay, okay, the real reason I came in was for something else.”

“Really? I never would’ve guessed.”

“Well, me and my friends usually go to this bar across the street on Fridays, and I want you to come with me tonight.” He said.

You sighed. Bars. Not exactly your thing. “I don’t know Jake…”

“Come on, goody two shoes, it wouldn’t kill you to have fun.” He reached over and put his hands on your shoulders. Unintentionally, his grip was tight. He had huge hands.

“I am not a goody two shoes.” You crossed your arms, your shoulders adjusting under his large palms.

“Sure.” He scoffed. “Come with me, princess. Please?”

It’s nicknames like those that get you into difficult situations. Nicknames that you can’t say no to. And now, your difficult situation was that you were standing next to Jake in a bar, surrounded by his loud, sweaty friends. More and more just kept appearing.

“And who’s this?” A girl asked, giving you a sweet smile.

“This is Y/N. She’s my… well, she’s a nurse over at the medical ward.”

You quirked an eyebrow at where that sentence was heading, but you didn’t have enough time to question him about it, because that girl immediately dragged you to play darts with her.

You learned that her name was Phoenix. You sucked at darts, but she didn’t seem to care either way.

“So, you’re the girl hangman’s always talking about, huh?” She said, keeping her eyes on the board.

Butterflies erupted in your stomach at the thought. Sure, you talked about him non stop to your friends, but imagining him talking about you almost made your heart burst.

“He talks about me?” You looked across the bar at him, his eyes already on you. He held a pool stick, and he offered you a head nod and a wink. You smiled in return.

“Hell yes he does. He runs out of class like it’s a race and is always talking about how he’s going to see his “sexy-nurse-dream-come-to-life.”

You laughed. You knew what he thought about you, he’s not afraid to say it, but hearing it from someone else felt different. It felt more real.

Phoenix got bored with darts and she led you over to the bar. You half-pretended to not see Hangman’s eyes on you at all times. Without asking, Phoenix ordered two shots.

“Shots? Phoenix I’m not the best at-“

“Shots without me?” You heard Jake's voice over your shoulder. After hearing his voice, you felt his hand on the small of your back. His pinky touched the rim of your skirt. You had to close your eyes and take a deep breath in order to not lose your cool. His touch felt so good.

You stuttered to try and make a sentence, your whole focus on his hand on your back. “I was just saying I don’t know if I can do that. I haven’t done a shot in… well in a long time.”

“You’ll be fine.” Phoenix smiled and turned back to the bartender, speaking to her as she poured the clear liquid into two shot glasses.

Suddenly, Jakes grip got tighter, and moved to the side of your hip. It wasn’t set on your hip, he was grabbing it. “I like this skirt.” He spoke slowly in your ear.

You gulped. You wanted to make a snarky comment back at him, but you didn’t think your brain could form words right now. Phoenix turned around with your shot, handing it to you.

You grabbed it and turned to look at Jake. “I seriously don’t know if I can take this. What if I like, throw up.”

“You won’t.” He smiled. He grabbed it from your hand. “Let me help, okay?”

You nodded. His huge hand came up to the side of your jaw and cupped it. His fingers on the back of your head, he tilted your head back. His thumb moved across your cheek, and painfully slow, it made its way over your lips, coming to rest on your bottom lip. He tugged it lightly. “Open.” He spoke. Without thinking, you opened your mouth. His jaw clenched, he pulled at your hair the smallest amount to tilt your head even further back. You had subconsciously brought your hands to hold on to both of his elbows, completely trusting yourself with him. Your eyes were glued to each other, the eye contact never broke. A grip that had started out light was now intense. He brought the cool shot glass to your lips pouring it into your mouth with no warning. Keeping your eyes on his, you swallowed.

“Good.” He mumbled. You didn’t really wince or make a grossed out face, your entire mind thinking about his hands on you. His thumb came back to your lips to wipe them clean of any vodka. You couldn’t tell if it was the shot or his touch that made your knees wobbly. All at once, he let go of you and smiled, suddenly in a joking mood again. “See?” He laughed, “that wasn’t so hard.”

You had no idea where Phoenix went, but she had left you and Jake at the bar together. You blinked, standing completely still, your mind lagging while trying to process what just happened. Heart racing, you chose to ignore what was going on between your legs right now.

“This is a random question, do you wanna get out of here?”

The walk back to Hangman’s apartment was excruciating. It was a hot July night, your hair sticking to your neck and shoulders as you walked. It was a short walk, but it felt like it was taking forever. The conversation on the way back was normal. The two of you were back to playful banter, which made you question if he felt the same way about what had just happened at the bar. Is it normal for him to do that to girls?

Stepping through Jake's door, you put your arms out to feel the cool air conditioning. “Oh, my god.” You groaned as he shut the door behind him. “It was so fucking hot in that bar, I thought-“

Jake's lips were on yours. His hands on either side of your face, his lips were practically squished against yours. Shocked, your body completely froze for a second. You dropped your arms at your sides, and let your brain catch up to what was happening. His lips were searing hot, yet his hands were cool on either side of your face. Your legs almost gave out on you, and he must have noticed, because he moved to wrap his arms completely around your waist, pressing your stomach against his abs. Your body catching up to your brain (or vice versa) you brought your hands to his broad shoulders. You fought back a shudder as he bit your bottom lip lightly, but you couldn’t hold back the small moan you let out.

That must have flipped a switch for him, his hands moved down over the curve of your ass, landing on the back of your thighs. He pulled them up, picking you up completely. You wrapped your legs around his torso, and you could feel him walking somewhere. He stopped at some point to mess with the light switch, turning it on as he held you up with one arm.

He dropped you lightly on your back onto his bed, his hands were on either side of your head, propping himself up. For a second, he gave you a sweet smile. You giggled lightly, a “is this really happening?” giggle.

“Have I ever told you how gorgeous you are?” He nearly whispered above you, his eyes scanned all over your face.

“I think you’ve mentioned it a few times.” You smiled.

Hooking up. That’s what it was. Friends with benefits. Well, friends who flirt and are obsessed with each other with benefits.

You really liked hooking up with Jake. You liked waking up in his bed, you liked how he would just come and see you at work now, no medical excuse at all. You liked the way he looked above you, and below you, for that matter. You liked holding onto his hair while he goes down on you, and you liked the way his hand felt around your neck. You like how fucked out and flushed he looked when you were done, and you liked how sometimes, he would kiss your forehead at the end. You liked that he started keeping a toothbrush for you in his bathroom, and you liked how safe you felt in his arms. And, you liked him.

The situation was sticky. You have heard multiple murmurs from his fellow pilots how you were his “girl of the month”. You knew his reputation, and you didn’t even wanna know how many girls have gotten this same treatment before you. The way Jake felt about you was playful. It was sexual, flirty, and fun. And for you, it was the same way. But recently, you felt like your connection to him was a little deeper. You had real feelings for him. You felt stupid that sometimes you would let yourself think that he felt that same way about you. But sometimes, the way he looked at you was not the way that “friends with benefits” look at each other.

One day in particular, he had you underneath him after a really long day of classes. He hadn’t been able to see you for a few days prior, practices on the field ramping up more and more. You’d think that after a frustrating day, he would be rough with you, but he wasn’t. He stroked your cheek lightly, his forehead pressed against yours and the tip of his nose touching yours. You could tell he was getting close by how sloppy his thrusts got.

“Fuck.” He gritted his teeth. “You are, fuck, Y/N, you’re so beautiful.”

You said nothing, you just looked at him with complete and total heart eyes. Your heart fluttered and you thought that if he didn’t have real feelings for you, he wouldn’t have said that. When he finished, he rolled off of you. You hoped for a kiss on the forehead, but unfortunately, not today.

He didn’t take a moment to catch his breath, or hold you, he got straight out of the bed. You visibly frowned.

He stretched and picked up his shorts off of the ground. “Fuck, my head hurts.” He mumbled as he walked out of the room and into the kitchen. You laid there, naked in his bed. You suddenly felt over-exposed, so you pulled the covers over you. Your mind raced. Why did Jake Seresin have to be such an emotional roller coaster? Now, seconds after being sure he had feelings for you, you were almost positive he didn’t. You wished that, just once, he would hold you after he was done. You heard a pill bottle shake from in the kitchen, and you contemplated leaving. You didn’t want to be annoying. Pulling your shorts up, you found your sweatshirt on the ground and pulled it over your body.

He stood shirtless in the kitchen, holding a glass of water. “You sleepin here tonight?” He asked

As badly as you didn’t want to seem clingy or needy, or reveal your feelings for him at all, you really did want to spend the night. You couldn’t tell if he was asking because he wanted you to, or if he wanted to know if he was getting rid of you. “I can.” You answered simply.

“We could watch a movie?” He smiled smally. Fuck, he was so cute. If he asked you to marry him right now, you would say yes.

Your heart lifted. He did want you to stay. After all, you were forgetting that you and Jake were practically best friends. He liked being around you. “Okay.” You smiled.

He was confusing. One second, he was telling you how beautiful you were while he finished inside of you. Next, he won’t even look at you when he’s done. Then, he wants you to spend the night.

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin had spent a good part of his life hooking up with girls. Usually, it was a bartender, or a sorority girl, or a girl he met in flight school. He had partaken in numerous friends with benefits agreements, had many ongoing hookups, and plenty of one night stands. He will admit, he has never met a girl like you before. A literal ray of sunshine, a beautiful girl with a beautiful heart. It kind of scared him. As terrible as it sounds, a lot of his hookups had been passing time, where he sees the girls only purpose as getting him off. Then he met you. He spent his time on you, making sure you were, well, real. He thought you were too good to be true. He didn’t really know how to go about it.

So, I guess he would say it started as meaningful hook up’s with you. He didn’t see you as someone who could get him off. The problem was Jake didn’t know how to do relationships. He knew hookups and one night stands. He didn’t know what crossed the line into relationships and how to tell if you wanted to be with him. As time went on, he had to remind himself that you weren’t in a relationship. You were hooking up. He had to remind himself that whenever you kissed him and he wanted to pick you up and spin you around. He had to remind himself when he found himself caressing your face, your eyes locked in his. He really had to remind himself whenever he saw you. Just. Hooking. Up.

He had to remind himself that night, while you were curled up under a blanket on his couch. He wanted to put his arm around you, but he didn’t know how. For about the first time in his life, he felt awkward in front of a girl.

He usually would know the perfect move to make, but that would be in a sexual, flirty situation. Now, he wanted nothing more than cheesy romance. He started out with his arm over the back of the couch, then he let his fingers touch your hair. He wanted to take this slow, he wanted to make sure you knew his touch wasn’t sexual, he just wanted to cuddle with you.

“You can lay back if you want.” He blurted out. Mentally scolding himself, he held his breath. So much for taking it slow, Jake.

You turned around and looked at him. He had to be horny or something. If he didn’t have feelings for you, would he really be asking you to cuddle with him right now? His back against the arm rest, he waited for your response. He was relieved when he saw that small, familiar smile on your lips.

You obviously weren’t going to pass up this opportunity. “Okay.“ you replied softly. You slowly leaned into him, resting your back on his abs, the back of your head on his chest. He adjusted his arms around you, bringing a hand up to touch your hair.

You couldn’t see each other’s faces, but you were both smiling.

It was nice to be touched by Jake, not because he wanted to fuck you, but just because he wanted to touch you. His hand lightly stroked your hair as the movie played, but neither of you paid any mind to it.

The two of you sat in silence in this position, and after a while, you turned over onto your stomach, wrapping your arms around his torso and laying your cheek onto his chest. His heart swelled.

In a quiet, sleepy, middle of the night haze, your eyes fluttered open. A second passed and you weren’t exactly sure where you were or what was going on. Becoming aware, you opened your eyes fully, and you realized that Jake was carrying you. He was cradling you like a baby, almost tip toeing so that you didn’t wake up. You must’ve fallen asleep on the couch. You felt him gently lay you down on the bed and pull the covers up over you. His lips touched your forehead softly, then he climbed in on the other side of the bed. Climbing under the covers, he wrapped you up in his arms. You nuzzled your face into his neck and sighed.

It must have been because you were tired, or just because you were overwhelmed with the feeling, but without thinking, you opened your mouth to whisper “I love you, Jake.” The words never made it past your throat, your mouth stuck open like you were about to start a sentence. Part of you thought you should just say it, but the rest of you thought you were so stupid to think you could tell the boy you were hooking up with that you loved him just because he was cuddling with you.

That morning, you woke up early with Jake. He had to be up at around 6 to go to classes, and the absence of his arms around you had caused you to wake up.

“You could call in sick?” You crossed your arms at the edge of the bed.

He was changing at his dresser and he laughed at you. “You know, you’re cute when you’re grumpy.”

You frowned. He looked to you to see if you liked his joke, and he sighed. “Y/N, you have work today too.” He came to sit by you on the bed. “You can sleep here until you have to go in, and maybe I’ll come visit you today.”

In a silent agreement, you rested your head on his shoulder. He patted you back then stood up. Ouch.

You hoped that he would kiss you before you left, but he didn’t. He rushed out the door, leaving you with a mere “maybe we can chill tonight.”

When he was out the door, you slammed your back against the bed with a groan. He cuddles with you all night, then doesn’t want anything to do with you the next day.

‘Just hooking up’ Jake repeated in his head as he walked out of his apartment, leaving a bed headed, incredibly cute you lying on his bed. ‘Just hooking up. Just hooking up. Just hooking up. Just hooking up.’

It was almost time for you to leave the office, and Jake hadn’t come to visit yet. You couldn’t stop checking your phone, waiting for a “Come to my apartment after work ;)” text. You started to believe it wasn’t going to come.

Your moping was interrupted by the sound of the small radio on your belt beeping. Confused, you looked down. The radio was for emergencies. It must be a test.

You picked it up and held it to your ear. “We’ve got two pilots that need search and rescue. There was some sort of collision. Both ejected. We’ve got Bradley Bradshaw and Jake Seresin. Pull their files and be ready for treatment. EMTs, rooftop helicopter in 2 minutes.”

You stood there, frozen. Your mind couldn’t even process the words, and your feet took off out of mere instinct. You wouldn’t even let yourself think of the possible outcomes of this situation, and yet, there was only one thing on your mind as you climbed the steps to the roof:

Jake.

You made it to the roof where the rescue helicopter was. You weren’t an EMT, and you certainly weren’t search and rescue, so you knew they wouldn’t let you come. You technically should be getting ready for two pilots who will need medical attention in about 5 minutes.

Not even sure what you were doing, you ran up to the helicopter where the EMTs were loading on. “Let me on!” You yelled over the roaring helicopter.

Most of them didn’t even pay attention to you, but one of them looked at you. “Y/N? You’re a floor nurse?”

“I know, please let me on.” You nearly whispered. Hopeless, you felt tears in your eyes. You thought for a second about fighting your way on, but then you thought about how this hospital only had a handful of other nurses and doctors, and if you really wanted to help, you should be getting ready right now.

You took a deep breath and wiped your eyes. Pull. Yourself. Together. Put the stupid fucking hookups aside and do your fucking job.

Not having time to be embarrassed by the looks the EMTs were giving you, you ran back inside. Everyone was already bustling around, grabbing files, supplies, moving beds, and clearing rooms. You didn’t have a ton of time to get ready for whatever you were about to see, but you had enough.

A beeping sound came from your monitors, which meant that the EMTs had made it to the site. Everyone listened to hear the severity. You closed your eyes, dreading what you could possibly hear. “Both responsive.”

You seriously could have cried in relief.

The buzzing noise on the intercom meant that the patients were in the building. Half of you hoped you would be one of the nurses to help Jake, but the other half thought maybe it would be best if you weren’t. It was kind of a gamble on which patient you would get, it just depended on what room the EMTs were closest to and which patient made it in the building first.

When Jake was wheeled in through your door, his face bloody and his shirt tore open to reveal a dirtied up chest, your breath hitched in your throat. Do your job Y/N, forget about who he is and do your job.

The doctor started barking orders at you and the other nurse in the room. “Scissors for his shirt.” He directed the other nurse. “Y/N, hook up his vitals.”

Cautiously, you stepped up to his bed. Holy fuck. You couldn’t tell where the blood on his face was coming from, it looked like his head. His eyes were drooping closed, and his chest was heaving. You picked up the IV and touched his arm lightly. His eyes shot open.

“Y/N” he cried. His hands were shaking.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and blinked your tears away. “It’s okay, Jake. You’re okay.”

“Y/N” he croaked again. Tears mixed with the blood under his eyes. His lips quivered and his chest heaved even harder.

You couldn’t even respond as you slipped the IV into his arm.

“Jake?” The doctor said “I need you to tell me what’s hurting you.”

“My head.” He cried “Fuck, it’s my head.”

You heard the doctor say something about an MRI to someone in the hallway. The doctor was examining his head as you wrapped a blood pressure cuff around his arm.

“All set for MRI.” A tech popped their head into the room.

You turned back to Jake, who was looking at you. “They’re taking you for an MRI, Jake. It won’t take long, I promise.”

“No, please.” He shut his eyes.

“It won’t be bad Jake, it’s okay.”

“Come with me.” He said, reaching for your hand.

“I can’t. I’ll be here when you get back.” A technician came in to take him away.

“I’m sorry.” He cried. They started to wheel him out of the room. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I love you.”

You swallowed. “I love you too.”

They took him out of the room and you stood there, heart pounding. Honestly, you didn’t spend too much time thinking about how he said that he loved you. You didn’t have the time.

The only moment you had a small amount of down time to think was a few hours later. It was getting dark outside, and your shift had already ended. You obviously stayed. His room was lit up by a lamp in the corner and his head was turned to look out the window until you walked in.

You hadn’t gotten to talk to him since he told you that he loved you. Since then, he got 14 stitches and 6 staples in his head, and a brace put on his back. They were keeping him overnight for observation due to the trauma on his head.

“Hi.” You said as you walked in. His head turned towards you and he smiled.

“Hi princess.”

You sat at the edge of his bed, resting your hand on his leg. “How you feelin?”

He shook his head and shrugged. “Not great. Just crashed a hundred million dollar plane, almost killed another pilot. They’re never gonna let me go on the mission now.”

“I’m sorry.” You offered.

It was silent for a moment. Not awkward, but peaceful. “You know, when I went down and I was waiting for search and rescue, I was like ‘fuck I hope Y/N doesn’t see me like this’.” You giggled, which made him smile again.

“But I knew you worked today, and then when I got here, I was hoping I would see you.” He gulped and looked out the window. “I was scared. I didn’t wanna die and have a ton of random people around me.”

“I was scared too.” You said. “I don’t like seeing you hurting.”

In a moment unlike Jake Seresin, he was quiet. He messed with the blanket on his lap, looking down. “You know, I’m sorry if what I said made you uncomfortable. I just, I had a moment of like, realization, I guess.”

“Jake, you know how I feel about you, don’t you? I’m not very good at hiding it.”

He sighed. “I know. That’s why I said I was sorry. I feel like I kind of fucked with your feelings.” You nodded slowly. “But I’m done with that now. I’m just… not good at emotions, and all that shit.”

Confusing as always. “What are you saying?”

“I want to be more than just hooking up. I do love you, Y/N. I meant it when I said that.” He finally looked up at you.

You let out a breath of relief and leaned down to kiss him. For once, it wasn’t a kiss that was going to lead to something else. It was just a kiss. A loving one. “I meant it too. I love you Jake.”

You weren’t allowed to spend the night, so you went back to his apartment. You spent the whole night washing his sheets, making his bed comfy, cleaning his kitchen, and you even went and got some groceries early in the morning.

That morning, you drove Jake back to his apartment. You tucked him into his bed and made him breakfast. He absolutely adored how domestic you were, and he always begged you not to get out of bed, even if you were going to the bathroom. You laid in bed next to him as he ate his breakfast, and he tried to share some of it with you, but you insisted you weren’t hungry. You spent the whole day babying him, and he spent the whole day loving it.

The best part by far was the several “I love you”’s that we’re exchanged every 5 minutes.

As a movie played on his tv, he stroked your hair. “I have a question.” He stated.

“Okay.” You said, not lifting your head from his chest.

“So… I'm like… your boyfriend now, right?”

You couldn’t help but giggle at how awkwardly he posed the question. “Yes, Jake.”

He smiled widely. “I think that, since you’re my girlfriend and all, you should give me a kiss.”

You lifted your head to get close to his face. “Nothing would make me happier.”

[lazyrezi]

You know, tolkien was on another one when writing specifically from Sam's point of view.

I'm sorry, but "he longed only for his master, for one sight of his face or one touch of his hand"???? That shit is SO romantic I might die.

And while in all of lotr there is a lot of platonic love expressed between men (love to see it!) even physical touch there is such a stark difference between the way it is written for pippin and merry versus frodo and sam. Sam's devotion is on another level, and you might say that is because frodo is his master but like. If anything that explains it less!!! He is frodo's gardener and sure they are friendly but I don't know about you but I would not weep so hard for my employer or be willing to die for them.

This whole passage, btw is basically sam, rescuing frodo from the top of a tower, which even at the time of tolkien writing lotr was already established as very much, not a platonic move. Think of any other story where our protagonist (ignore that frodo is also our protagonist for a minute he is the love interest right now) goes up against an enemy, ready to die just to get to the very top of the tower in hope to save someone they love. That shit is not platonic. It COULD BE. It isn't, tho.

The thing is the way merry and pippin were written specifically is a great example of how platonic love is portrayed in the books otherwise. Let me tell you, the two of them do not long for each other's touch ONCE. Pippin thinks of merry often, and Merry wishes pippin were there with him, and they both hope against hope they will see each other again, and it is very sweet, don't get me wrong. But they way it is written inherently reads platonic, whereas any time we see Sam's perspective, it is fuelled with such an intense longing/devotion that is unexplainable by their circumstances.

At this point in the story it actually does not make any sense for sam to risk his life/the capture of the ring/the END of their quest for frodo who for all we know might already be dead. Sam has the ring he is just as capable of delivering it to mordor, yet he chases orcs and exerts a LOT of energy just to get a chance at rescuing frodo. WHAT EVEN IS THIS??? this is more romantic than any romance books I have ever read!

[noemitenshi]

The moon bathes your face in gentle light

A Troy Otto post s8 Imagine/story of how Tracy and him started to heal after the events of that horrible season.

The idea came to me after a conversation with @marrecarandgi so many thanks for that! It wouldn't exist without you 🧡

Let's jump into it.

As per our agreement, Troy Otto definitely 100% survived the stabbing by Madison. I'm not gonna be thinking too much about how (taking a page out of canon's book - they never explained how he survived the hit to the head nor getting stabbed by Alicia either. Guess he's just *that good*). So, Troy survives, though I'm sure it's not pretty. By the skin of his teeth, in immense pain, and fearing for his daughter. Maybe not so much her survival because he gave his best didn't he. But what his lie will do to her. Now that this didn't kill him (again, again it didn't kill him). And every waking hour he imagines Tracy with Madison, imagines Madison turning Tracy against *him*. And he wishes it would be enough to know she survives but of course it's not. It's a father's pain he's bearing now (on top of the gaping gut wound, though he probably did something about that...), the loss of his daughter. Not the end of her life but the end of her love. And he has to be patient now, has to *heal* and it takes time, he knows it does (he's been through this before). He can't rush these things but god he wishes he could, he feels he's going crazy with this, waiting. Waiting never was his strong suite, he'd always preferred to act, however rashly. Preferred to *do* not think. And now thinking is the only thing that he *can* do. It takes weeks. Months, before he is halfway fit again (and probably a lot of sheer dumb luck, again, don't think too much about this). Anyway, the point is, he knows how to fight for things, how to go on despite, *how to survive* and he puts his all into it now. So he may get his daughter back (don't think about her, don't think about her, just get better). And once he is, better, he's putting everything into finding her. He *has to*. And of course he does. Probably sneaks into the camp at night and slits Madison's throat (like he should've done way back in s3...). If Alicia's there I don't think she survives this either. And then he takes his daughter and they leave. Off into the sunset they ride (or, I guess, sunrise. Since it was night). Now. Probably both of them will have some new trauma to deal with. Troy for, well, having been stabbed and losing his daughter (even for a bit) and losing his men and their kids and the safe place to call him he almost had in his hands... and Tracy for having lived with the killer of her dad - and thinking that her father had died. So, it's a lot for both of them. And I think both of them only start feeling these things when they have one another again (Tracy because she finally feels safe again and Troy because now his mind can finally stop thinking nonstop about getting Tracy back and uh starts processing all that other shit). So they aren't in the best place, emotionally speaking. Troy is bitter (though he really tries with Tracy. I do think he is still good with her, there's just now an edge in him that wasn't there before). And Tracy... Tracy probably has nightmares and panic/anxiety attacks - probably also bursts of anger at her dad. This is difficult on both of them... probably reminding Troy of his own childhood (the bursts of almost unexplained anger) and he's gonna have to work extra hard not to react like his parents (in high-stress situations it is very likely to fall back to well-known behaviorial patterns after all and what he knows *really well* is how his parents dealt with him when he behaved "badly"). So no wonder is he bitter/moody. On top of it all they still don't have a place to call home and maybe are just wandering around in search for... something. Not even sure he feels like he could built a new community since he lost his men - from the way they were it seemed like they were together for a while now. That has got to hurt. And maybe he feels safer, wandering around, not staying anywhere too long. (Maybe he is trying to run away, from these feelings - not that he can. he knows that. but the urge is still in him and so he gives into this, for a little. he's already stretched so very thin, he can't fight himself on this front now, too).

And one night when they've been scouting a bit too long, they stumble into another person's camp. or, well, it's not really a camp, not even a fire going, that's why they didn't avoid this spot, just a man curled on the ground, right by a tree. He woke, of course, when Troy stumbled over his feet. He didn't hesitate to give Tracy the signal to get out of sight, NOW, while he regained his footing, hand going to the pistol on his side while he eyed the stranger, who was slowly straightening into a sitting position, blinking slowly.

"you!"

They both spoke simultaneously and Troy's hand twitched with the need to draw his weapon when he saw who that man was. He *knew* him. And the second he'd recognized him, he felt like fate had slapped him. On both cheeks. That was...

"crazy dog"

That couldn't be true. But it was, he was here. What where all these ghosts from his past doing here?! When would he finally find peace from all of that!??!

"Troy Otto..." Crazy Dog replied. *He* didn't seem tense. Didn't seem alarmed. He looked - different, too, then back at the ranch. And Troy wasn't sure if it was just his missing anger or - something else? Haggard, he realized, Crazy Dog was haggard. Seemed tired too or was that because he'd leaned his head against the tree trunk and continued to look at Troy silently. Troy furrowed his brows. That was... not at all the reaction he had expected. It was so out of left field that he heard himself ask

"aren't you gonna draw your weapon?"

God, what was he doing?! Did he *want* a violent confrontation?

"No." Crazy Dog's answer was - not firm, not really. But it still had an air of finality to it. It had come faster than anything else he said (or did) before, too. Troy blinked. Mouthed 'no' uncomprehendingly. What was going on? The Crazy Dog he remembered had been dead set on killing him - had only waited for Troy to give him a reason, *any* reason. This, now, was the perfect opportunity to do so. But he seemed wholly uninterested in that. Not even bothered by Troy standing in front of him. Not *threatened*. Troy pulled his lips back into a snarl.

"I'm gonna be taking your things," he announced. Didn't even know why. Did he *want* to anger the other man?

"Don't have much anyway," Crazy Dog said mildly and - what was wrong with him!? Didn't he *care*?!

"Dad?"

Troy froze. Tracy apparently had figured there was no danger - no wonder, Crazy Dog hadn't even risen, still leaning almost relaxed against the tree trunk; both their voices were calm and Troy hadn't drawn his own weapon either.

"Dad?" Crazy Dog repeated and Troy swallowed uncomfrotably. *Afraid*. Would that tidbit finally compell the other man to be cruel? Was that what it would take to bring the Crazy Dog of old to the forefront? And without him even noticing he'd stepped in front of Tracy, blocking her from Crazy Dog's view, his face a stony mask.

"Take it."

Troy couldn't quite process what Crazy Dog had said to him, it didn't make sense. Not even a little. He must've looked confused, because Crazy Dog repeated, "My things" and nodded to the backpack, "Take them all." And it looked like - was that a slight smile tugging at Crazy Dog's lips? Was he having a stroke!? Or was Troy? Something wasn't right - but then again, why would he look a gift horse in the mouth? So he leaned down and took the backpack - somehow still expecting to be stabbed in the back. But no. Nothing like that was happening. *Nothing* was happening, actually. Just Crazy Dog looking at him, still with that almost smile. Even when he slung the backpack over his shoulder nothing changed.

"Thank you" that was Tracy, coming to stand right besides Troy, looking at Crazy Dog curiously. Her words were honest and Troy had the urge to pull her back behind himself again. Especially when Crazy Dog's gaze slid to her. That was it, wasn't it? He'd do what Troy had feared, attack them after all. Why did Tracy have to go and draw his attention like that---

But nothing like that happened. The only thing moving were the corners of Crazy Dog's mouth, deepening the slight smile a little - so it actually looked like a smile now. Somehow it made him appear even more tired. *Exhausted*. That's what it was. That was why he looked so different to how Troy remembered him. Not the years etched on his face, nor even the haggardness. It was the air of defeat around him. He *never once* had seemed defeated back then... He nodded at Tracy, kindly - again something that didn't fit with Troy's experience with that man. His daughter was smiling back and Troy stared. Seeing her smile, especially towards strangers, had become so seldom these days. So seldom after - Madison.

Tracy caught his gaze and raised her eyebrows demandingly. What was she--- oh.

"Thanks," he mumbled quickly, and watched his daughter smile at him now sweetly. He grinned back.

What he wouldn't do to have her smile like that.

Tracy looked suddenly around, searchingly. Troy enjoyed watching her when she got like this. Curious, inquisitive. About to solve some kind of puzzle in her mind. It was a delight, getting to see how her brain worked.

"Uhm...should we maybe stay here, dad? Until morning?"

Today was just full of unexpected things wasn't it? Never could he have predicted her saying exactly those words. 'No!' was his first impulse, he did not want to stay longer around Crazy Dog than he had to. Taking his things probably was already a mistake. Made them spend more time than necessary here... But then, this wasn't the kind of dad he was. Had made sure of it. Painstakingly. So, he asked,

"Why do you say that?"

"...it's not the safest spot..." she mumbled. Oh. She wanted to make sure Crazy Dog was ok. That was... Troy didn't know what that was.

"That's alright," Crazy Dog said before Troy could think of a reply, "I'll get home at first light. Don't you worry about me." His voice was still wrong. Different now though. Different now that he was talking to Tracy. Not as... devoid as before.

"We really should get going." Troy didn't waste time trying to hurry Tracy along. Especially since Crazy Dog seemed to be doing the same.

"Dad!" Tracy was tugging at his shirt "Dad, we can get him home right?" Then she turned to Crazy Dog "Our car isn't far from here, we-"

"Tracy." Troy's voice wasn't loud, nor especially harsh but she still stopped speaking. She knew it was his no-nonsense tone. The one that said she didn't have all information, didn't see all consequences of her actions. She didn't like when he used it and couldn't wait to ask him *what exactly* she hadn't thought through.

"Go along now, I'll be fine."

Troy was strangely thankful to the other man for insisting on this - and he didn't want to be.

"You heard him," he said, taking Tracy's hand in his and then they were walking.

"Be careful!" Tracy said as if it were an invocation, her serious eyes boring into Crazy Dog's.

"You too," he answered her immediately. But his gaze caught Troy's. Troy did not know what to make of this. This whole interaction feeling unreal. It had him on edge in a strange way and he couldn't wait to get as far away from this as possible.

Of course it wasn't that easy.

And so he found himself driving back to that spot, opening his door and hissing

"get in"

to crazy dog. Crazy Dog looked as perplexed as Troy himself felt over the whole thing - but then, Tracy always did have a way to get what she wanted. He didn't know why he'd thought it would be different this time. She'd been adamant about helping that person that had so selflessly given up his things. Troy had wanted to point out that he didn't seem to *care* one way or another, but really, that wouldn't accomplish anything but make her sad. or worried. he wasn't sure which one was worse. so he just bit his tongue. He *had* told her who he was - Crazy Dog. She knew that name from his tales. And - he'd thought it would make her back down. She had - hesitated (and that had hurt him unexpectedly, the sudden *curling into herself*. Of course, figures of his past would incite that reaction. After what the last group had done...!) But she hadn't backed down in the end, weighing Crazy Dog's behavior towards them *now* more than anything else that had happened in the past.

And so Troy agreed to do what she wanted because - he hadn't seen her as animated, as *invested* since - since! Her time away from him had done a number on her. On both of them, but he'd gladly shoulder whatever needed to, just so she could be spared. But that wasn't how it worked and so he had been helpless to watch her be this subdued, quiet child since he'd... recued her from Madison. Had watched her be so unlike herself. Had tried to bring her back, of course, anything and everything he could think of but---no need to keep thinking about that. His kid was back, at least for now.

And so he was now watching Crazy Dog hesitantly get into the back of the truck.

"Where am I going?" Troy asked him, and this was maybe the strangest thing to happen that night. Asking Crazy Dog for directions. But the way Tracy was beaming more than made up for him and when the other man didn't immediately answer Troy turned his head to him.

"Where to?" he asked again and somehow his voice had turned softer. Crazy Dog's gaze met Troy's. And after a little sigh he told him.

The drive was maybe half an hour at the most - and no one seemed to feel the desire to speak. Not even Tracy. Or maybe that was just Tracy retreating into herself again. Though she didn't look subdued, quite the opposite actually. Maybe she was just content. That thought made Troy smile a little. Maybe she really was. The road turned from asphalt to dirt and after a while Troy could see a farmhouse at the end of it.

"That it?" he asked. Crazy Dog nodded.

"You can just let me out he---"

"We said we'd get you home and we will," Troy interrupted. Honestly, they were almost there.

Crazy Dog nodded.

Then, slowly he said,

"You can.. come in if you want. Stay - the night. It's late." Almost reluctantly.

Troy still felt a sliver of irrational danger just imagining Crazy Dog near his daughter - but his daughter was looking at him with big big eyes and he thought a real bed would do her some good.

"It is," was all he said. Was as much as he allowed himself to agree.

"It's so nice here!" Tracy exclaimed once her large eyes had taken in as much as they could of the living area.

"Yeah," Crazy Dog said in that slow way of his, "it is..." Then he looked at her, brows furrowed. "I don't even know your name."

"Tracy," Tracy said. Crazy Dog repeated her name softly.

"I'm Lee," he said then.

"Not Crazy Dog?" Of course his daughter wouldn't let something like rest - and frankly, Troy wanted to know the answer to that, too.

"Just Lee," Crazy Dog - Lee? said mildly and without stopping asked, "Want something to eat? I've got food in the kitchen"- he nodded towards a door behind which Troy guessed was said kitchen-"though I'm not the best cook so... it's straight out of the can..."

"I can cook," Troy said and then let ...Lee show him around.

"It's not much," *Lee* said, almost apologetically. He was right, it wasn't the best stocked kitchen. But it was better than what Tracy and him had had the last few days. Weeks.

"I can work with this," Troy announced. *Lee* nodded at him.

"Take what you need. I'll leave you to it."

*

When Lee went back to the living room, he saw that Tracy had cozied up on the couch. It looked precious, in a way nothing had for... for a while now and the ghost of a smile was again tugging at his lips. He was strangely glad they had accepted his offer to stay. Or maybe not so strange, the house feeling more alive now than... for a while now. He sat down on the chair besides the couch and watched Tracy doze. How strange to think that Troy Otto had a child - a very sweet one at that. But then, years had passed. Years in which he'd assumed him dead. He... wasn't saddened to find he'd been wrong in that. Or maybe he was just glad to see how well Tracy had it with *him* as dad. Lee would not have guessed that Troy would turn into an indulgent dad. Would not have guessed he'd turn into a *good* dad, but from everything he'd seen today exactly this had happened.

"You *are* Crazy Dog though, aren't you?" Tracy was suddenly looking straight at him, sharp sharp eyes boring into his. Oh yes, she was her father's daughter.

"That's not a name I'm using anymore," Lee said.

"You know each other from ..back at the ranch," she continued without acknowledging what he'd said. Lee nodded.

"My dad told me you wanted him dead... why are you helping us now?"

Oh she was quite brave, this one. He'd have expected nothing less of Troy Otto's child. Whatever could be said about the man, a lack of bravery wasn't it. But where the bravery was almost scary in its intensity in Troy, it was endearing in Tracy.

"That was then. This is now."

Apparently this wasn't a good enough answer for her because she asked, sharply,

"You don't want him dead anymore?"

"I've got no reason to," Lee told her. He didn't. Who cared what had happened years ago. He'd moved on. he'd built a whole new life---

"He robbed you."

Oh, so she *had* heard that part, hm. Still he disagreed,

"I freely gave it to you"

"...why are you helping us?"

Lee closed his eyes, unwilling to think about this, to let his mind wander there...

"You have no reason to," she said, emphasizing the words almost mockingly. A challenge.

"...I do," Lee said softly. Oh, did he ever and his heart squeezed uncomfortably, his throat closed up and he tried to swallow against it.

"Food's done!" Troy had appeared in the kitchen doorway - just at the right time, it seemed. "Come." With one last look at Lee, Tracy went.

Lee breathed a sigh of relief, he hadn't been sure how much more of her questions he could take before... He shook his head and focused on his breathing. Slow and deliberate. In. Pause. Out. Pause. In. Pause. Out. Pause. And on and on until it was the only thing filling his mind. And then some more.

A sudden noise made him flinch and open his eyes. A plate of steaming food was placed in front of him.

"I meant you, too, you know?" Troy told him casually. Then he went back to the kitchen. Lee blinked at the food. It smelled - good. Much better than... He sighed. Then he slowly started eating. He figured they'd be more comfortable without him in the kitchen.

After they were done eating, Lee showed them the bathroom and the master bedroom. He knew how important it was to be able to stay together, especially during night, during sleep, the most vulnerable time. He took the couch - just like he'd done the days before. Somehow sleep came easier to him today.

*

The next day Troy woke early. Tracy was still sleeping and so he let her, softly moving out of the room and downstairs. He wasn't sure if he was surprised or not to see *Lee* awake too. He was just sitting there, looking outside into the rain. Still like a statue.

"What's wrong with you?" slipped from Troy - no one could accuse him of having tact. (And honestly, he was about fed up with this version of Crazy Dog. With being on this strange edge the whole time. He'd rather have it out, he thought). Lee turned to him, eyes suddenly as cold and dark as he remembered.

"I'm not talking about that."

Well. That wasn't helpful at all. Made him angry in a petulant way. But then, *he* didn't want to be to start a fight. Didn't want to destroy this for Tracy. They'd leave here soon enough and then who cared what had happened to Crazy Dog. So he turned his attention to the outside, where Lee was staring. A beautiful garden. Flowers and vegetable patches filling it.

He wondered about the canned food.

"Quite a garden," he remarked.

"...Yeah."

Troy rolled his eyes and decided to go snoop a little. Was bound to be more interesting than a conversation with *him*. That unsettling version of Crazy Dog. He didn't want to be too obvious about it, so he didn't exactly rummage around in closets (though he itched to), instead looking at what was displayed. The books laying around (a suspicious lot of them *medical* though he supposed it made sense to learn as much as one could about these things - doctors were hard to come by these days..), the wide array of knick-knacks. He couldn't see a common thread there. Shells and necklaces, lighters and key chains, little toys and pens. Strewn all over the house from what Troy could see. Curious.

"Dad?!"

Tracy was awake, and from the sounds of it trying not to panic.

"I'm here!" Troy was quick to reply, already going for the stairs, taking two, three at a time, rushing to her. He should've thought of that! God damn, he really should've but then - this hadn't really been an issue until now, him not being near her when she woke up. Of course it made her panic. The moment he stepped foot on the second floor Tracy rushed into his arms and he picked her up, having to shift as to not tumble down the stairs with the force with which she'd thrown herself at him.

"I'm here," he murmured, stroking over her hair, "It's alright."

She clung to him and it didn't seem like she wanted to let go anytime soon. He just shrugged good-naturedly and decided to carry her downstairs. Breakfast would do her good.

The way she hid her face in the crook of his neck, the way she held on to him had him remember their days when she was a toddler. When they'd lost--- He'd thought they'd never get through that. He'd thought, without *her* he wouldn't be able to do this. To be a good parent. He'd clung to her just as much as she'd clung to him during those days. And they both had persevered. They would again. Even if the situation seemed impossible. They'd done it once before. They would again. She'd be fine, with time. She'd get over this. He fastened his hold around her.

After breakfast - which had been a somewhat strange and subdued affair (strange because Lee had again declined to eat with them and subdued because the panic still clung to Tracy it seemed. Not as immediate but Troy could still tell) - Tracy had wandered to the bookshelves, looking through them. Somehow that had made Lee move from his place on the chair, looking to the outside and he'd started a quiet conversation with her - from what Troy could tell, asking her what she liked to read, offering different things. He watched the two of them for a while and when he saw that Tracy was becoming more animated the more they spoke he felt a tenseness fall from him he hadn't been aware of holding. *She would be ok*. Of course she would be.

Just now the sun was peaking through the clouds, the rain finally having stopped. He was immediately drawn to the garden, wanting to take a closer look at the vegetables - maybe there was something he could use?

"I'll be outside," he announced to the other two. Those had now moved to the couch, both their noses inside a thick medical book. He had to smile. Tracy definitely had her thirst for knowledge from him - and he was proud of her for that. For asking questions, trying to figure out how everything worked. It was a good thing to be thirsty for in this world, where nothing was safe. Where you could not depend on others--- He stopped these thoughts cold, stepping into the garden, his sharp eyes taking everything in. Most plants were already withered - no wonder, it was late autumn. But he did spy a small pumpkin and - weren't those sweet potatoes? He sat to work.

Somehow he didn't only harvest the few sweet potatoes and the two pumpkins but had started to cut back the plants that needed it and take out the ones that wouldn't survive the winter - he hadn't even thought about it, his hands intimately knowing what to do. And once he realized what he was doing - late into his work - he stopped, breathless, blinking around and looking at his work. Then he shook his head at himself and couldn't stop an self-deprecating smile. He hadn't even made it half through the garden. So he straightened and walked through the rest of it - it was in need of tending too. Not that it was overgrown, clearly there was work put into it. Just - not for the last... weeks? And when his gaze caught by something shimmering almost silver-y he thought he understood why. He'd found the missing puzzle piece he hadn't even been aware he'd been searching for. There in the secluded corner of the garden stood a pale wooden cross, a name carved into it - Ri Ortego. And underneath it just one word. 'Beloved'. Troy's fingers traced the letters and he couldn't help himself, but he felt like whoever had carved them (*Lee*, who else) must've been shaking. That explained his strange behavior. It was grief. He pulled his hand back as if burned.

*

"You had a wife." Troy hadn't even fully entered the house that those words left his mouth. Lee flinched. It wasn't enough for Troy, so he spoke her name. "Ri, right?"

Lee stood abruptly and stomped into the kitchen. Troy took that to mean he was right - why else would Lee be upset. And it was clear that he was.

"Da~ad!" Apparently he wasn't the only one to get that, Tracy was looking at him disapprovingly, her eyes glinting dangerously. He almost shrugged but then thought better of it. This was not the time to be flip with her. So he just blinked and pressed his lips together. He'd lost a wife too, after all. No need to be so dramatic over it. "You should apologize," he heard his daughter say. The same tone he used when he demanded the same of her. It almost made him smile. Though the prospect of doing *that* didn't let him. It wasn't like he'd *meant* to hurt the other man. He'd just been after answers. But Tracy kept staring at him - and both knew he'd give in, just as he'd had last night. He took every opportunity he had to make his daughter happy, after all. So he sighed and went to the kitchen, carefully opening the door.

"Hey," he whispered, somewhat uncomfortable, not wanting to startle the other man. Lee was sitting at the kitchen table, his back turned towards the door, hunched over. He looked like--- "Uh, that before," Troy started to explain, "listen, I, I didn't--- uhm..." There was no reaction and Troy swallowed. He had expected to get at least something from the other man. "I didn't mean anything by it." He finally settled on as an explanation. *That* had an effect; Lee turned his head slowly towards Troy and Troy was glad to be done speaking because otherwise the next word would've gotten stuck in his throat - the misery in Lee's eye, the devastation on his face felt like it was stopping his heart. It felt *so familiar*.

"I'm sorry." It was the easiest thing to say, suddenly. "*I'm sorry*, Lee."

***

And that is how it will begin. Of course Troy and Tracy will stay in Lee's house. Tracy is doing lots better there than before when they were driving around and though Troy does feel unbalanced by Lee's grief, he still feels alright staying. For Tracy, he's telling himself at first (and let's be honest, seeing the mirror of past him in Lee is difficult - maybe he didn't have enough space to grieve Serena what with having to raise a kid, so it's gonna be bringing things up for him too. But it'll be good for him overall) but he's gonna enjoy it, too. Being here with someone that is supposed to want him dead but very much *doesn't* is doing wonders for his trauma. And over time they're gonna become friends and raise Tracy together. Not sure how/when it'll turn romantic - maybe I'll add to this once I have an idea.

[mildew-spirits]

TW: RAMCOA, PROGRAMMING

Wow. Three posts in one night. How "cool."

I went from feeling like an emotional light switch that got turned off into being an angry light switch who's pissed off at the world. One week. One word. That's all it took for our life to go to even more shit then it was. That's all. All it took. And now our life is completely changed. I want to go back, I want to go back to when no one knew me or any of my sidesystem existed. I want to go back to before we did research. I want to stop ourself. But who am I kidding we would've still done it anyway. We have questioned many things over the past few years especially ever since system things came to light. Some things we have been right about and some things we have been wrong about and just went on with our day. I wish this was that. I want it to be that so badly. I want to wake up tomorrow and go "oh my bad". But I can't do that and neither can anyone in my system who knows do that. I want to go back and stop this. Yes, it would've happened at one point or another I know that. But why now? Why now? Why did we have to see that God damn post that mentioned programming? Why did we have to have the gut feeling to research it? There were signs. There always were signs. I feel like everyone always says that once they make a new discovery. There was signs. A few of us had suspected religious trauma. Another few of us had suspected sexual trauma on top of what we already had. We tried to think about it and wondered why the dots weren't connecting. It was because we didn't get the whole picture. I hate this. I hate this a lot. From what I've gathered, we can't even talk about this without feeling screwed one way or another afterwards. But we still try. We still did it just to have proof something was in fact happening. I want to go back to being one of the innocent ones who doesn't know. I wish we were educated or warned before researching. It still would've gone to shit but surely it would've taken longer then a week. Instead we had no warnings, no nothing. Just a morbid itch and curiosity to keep going. And that's on us right? I'm pissed at us, I'm pissed at everything. A WEEK AGO WE WERE OKAY AND LIVING LIFE AND NOW ITS BEEN FOREVER WRECKED. We had trauma before this. We were always confused on why some of those were just apart of collective memory and some could even recall it without hiccup. We felt it was weird because for a system as complicated as ours surely there'd be more to the story. WHY DO YOU GET TO WRECK OUR LIFE IN JUST A WEEK. 4-9. 4-9 is when he had easy access to us. 4-9 is when our parents willingly let us go with him under the guise we were with a trusted adult. Yeah, sure, after the almost wreck (at 7?) it was touch and go, but still had access. "He used to take you everywhere" ... She. She had shown signs of programming. She was our best friend for years. How did we not know. Almost felt like she unknowingly projected it onto us. So many things felt weird. And we just. Went through life. We trusted him. We were fine. A week ago. We were fine. It's not fair just how fucked up our life could get in a week. Growing up, we had this weird social anxiety around adults, especially around ones we didn't know. Our voice would automatically go a higher pitch. It still does. I wonder if that's connected. I'm not going to be that person who pins all their issues on their latest discovery as I know that's simply not true. But I really do have to wonder what all is connected in this web of fuckery. So many unexplained things I wonder just how many can be explained now.

[tornrose24]

Okay, I have to ask, because after looking through your posts on a mad rampage for Mr Peabody And Sherman Fanfics (I CAN'T FIND ANY GOOD STUFF OUT THERE!), I need to know, Have you found anyone that has taken your beautiful OUAT AU and made a fanfiction based on your outline? I need my Peabody and Sherman Angst Xovers!

Sadly no one took up that offer. I haven’t done it myself because not only is it a huge commitment (especially considering how long and complicated Once Upon a Time is, but it wouldn’t be a ‘beat by beat’ story), but I’m not as familiar with some of the DA films that most fans are.

But I can try to provide an outline for these two based on what I planned for them in the AU.....

Thanks to the WABAC, Peabody was familiar with Shrek’s era and his adoption and familial bond with Sherman caught the guardians attention. He was asked to provide a means to transport Shrek and Fiona’s son away to somewhere in our world-away from the cursed town. He couldn’t take Farley himself because... reasons (some scientific reasons).

Meanwhile Sherman easily won over everyone else just by being a sweet, curious boy who was excited about his new surroundings and wasn’t prejudiced like most people towards Shrek and Fiona due to his upbringing.

Pitch caught on to Peabody’s involvement–he had a desire to claim Sherman as part of his cursed town and decided to orchestrate a nasty trick.

He approached Peabody and told him that in our world he would be rendered as nothing more than a mere dog, incapable of taking care of his son and would lack the intelligence he was gifted with. But if he sent Shrek and Fiona’s son directly to him, then Sherman would still be able to have the father he would need. He could even be made a human in order for that bond to still exist.

Despite his doubts, Peabody ended up refusing the offer as he remembered the circumstances he found his son in and ultimately could not wish an even worse fate upon another’s child. While impressed, Pitch warned Peabody that he had paid the price for the refusal (as he had intended if Peabody took the offer up, thus dooming the dog no matter what choice he made)– as part of the curse, Peabody would become a human and keep the intellect he so valued, but he would be forever separated from Sherman, who wouldn’t even remember his father nor recognize him.

When the curse finally claimed Peabody and Sherman, the former promised the terrified latter that he would do whatever it took to find him. No matter what the curse would do to them, he would come for his son the moment the curse would be lifted. The boy had full faith that his father would keep that promise....

......

Dr. Herbert Ward was one of the top scientists in Crescent City, known for his brilliance and odd sense of humor. However there was a huge hole in his heart that he couldn’t explain.

Max Foray was one of the few kids in Crescent City’s foster system. He was a sweet natured boy with an eagerness to learn everything, but many were apathetic towards him, from the social worker who ran the foster system to most teachers at the elementary school he attended.

When Farley (the destined savior) came to town, a chain reaction started and ensued that the two would cross paths when Dr. Ward came to help teach a lesson to the elementary school kids and was won over by a boy who listened to every word he said and had so many questions rattling in his mind. He wouldn’t forget the boy and after a few random encounters, the hole in Ward’s heart filled with an unexplained longing–like he had to adopt this boy when no one else would, or even give him the further education the boy was capable of obtaining.

However not only did Ward have a difficult job that involved things he was not legally allowed to speak of (for he had seen impossibilities that his superior wanted to keep quiet), but Mr. Nacht was aware of the growing friendship the scientist had with the boy and told the social worker that Ward was not fit to be Max’s legal guardian. There was nothing Ward could do to overturn the decision and with the mayor himself in the way, he was unable to adopt Max (who didn’t even know about any of this, but wanted so badly to be adopted by anyone–even the strange, yet funny and intelligent scientist). 

While the mayor’s daughter Isabella was dismayed that she could not truly get the counterparts of Peabody and Sherman back together, all she could do was ensure that Ward and Max could be able to meet up once in awhile. Farley had his own issues over the matter as he had been passed around in the system in his youth and while he too wanted Max to get what he never had–an actual, loving parent–he couldn’t do anything while the mayor dangled other issues in his face that he had to be careful of.

....

When the curse was finally lifted, everyone’s memories came running back–and both father and son remembered their true selves as well as who it truly was that they had been drawn to in this town. Ward–who regained his memories as Mr. Peabody–raced to the school, where Max–who also regained his memories as Sherman–was waiting for him.

And just as Sherman knew, his dad came from him. He didn’t care that the curse altered his father’s appearance (though he missed Peabody’s dog form) when he came running towards him. Father and son tightly embraced and with the curse broken over the town, they would never again be parted from each other.

[izzy-b-hands]

had. the weirdest dream/nightmare/clearly a cymbalta dream bc i went to bed stone cold sober lmao

it involved:

me getting partial top sx but 'we only took abt six months of growth off' (?????????????????!) so it left me with like. p nice b cups actually. with the note that if i wanted it flatter later, i could come back and they'd take more out.

ngl that made me wake up super fucking chest dysphoric, but what are ya gonna do

then i was getting this done somewhere else??? but needed to fly home and v much did not want to bc: worried abt the sx results and being in the air?? and also just my usual flying anxiety lol

i really wanted to go by amtrak instead, but any time i tried to pull out my phone and buy tickets someone random would tell me to keep moving?

which led to me in a hotel with taika and rita, who agreed to help me get on the plane and not immediately have a panic attack

(v sweet of them, thank u dream taika and rita, tho at that point it was implied they were the ones who agreed to look after me after the sx? unexpected, but lovely all the same bc otherwise it was clear i was more or less on my own)

Between there and the airport

(this v weird one that featured in past cymbalta dreams, v gorgeous but definitely Fucked Up in that it has a Langoliers airport vibe to it kadnfnfn)

i got separated from them briefly, given a large dark brown teddy bear? that i was told to take with me but that i might have to buy two seats for bc 'his ass won't fit in just one' or so i was told by some random guy (continuing ?????????)

Which i dropped back off at taika and rita's hotel room bc literally it was as big as me so carrying it was not working

only to get trapped in what i was told was this huge empty locker room/bathroom that was presumed unisex

(this has also featured in a past cymbalta dream, and it's hands down one of the creepiest locations bc it goes on for halls of like. change stalls and some doors are closed with feet underneath them, but if you open the door no one is in there)

only to go change bc ???? and have some girls flip out abt me being in there as a trans guy

they chased me out, and somehow i was back at the airport with that fucking bear, finding out that the boarding time had changed and they'd forgotten to tell ppl, so we (taika and rita just suddenly showed up out of the blue, no idea what the fuck they were up to) were a good fifteen minutes late but taika was like nah they know ur scared so they held the plane and i had to go no, no i don't think they did bc that wouldn't work for like. anyone else on the plane but that's a really sweet idea

then suddenly we get pulled into a hall where they explain (they being what i think were security guards) that this elderly famous comedian is dying and they need someone to keep an eye on him for a minute would we mind?

they disappear into the fuckin air so we don't actually get a choice and like. watch him die. laying in a weird star trekesque bed thing that, for reasons unexplained, was made out of the darth vader suit

anyway

he dies, we all get weirdly emotional abt it despite not actually caring abt him, it was just like. super traumatic hearing an extended death rattle (I've heard it before but still) so i think that fucked us up

ended with taika asking if i really wanted to get on the plane bc we totally didn't have to, and both him and rita comforting me while i had a sudden sobbing fit into this poor big pain in the ass to carry this ENTIRE TIME bear

(final thing implied was that we were in some poly relationship bc they did both kiss me and sorta. wrapped me and the bear up in cuddles sitting on airport lobby chairs together. it was v weird yet v nice, idk.)

then i woke up with my body so tense it gave me a headache until i hit the shower to get my muscles to unclench

I wish my doc would look at these posts and see what i mean when i say the edibles help me sleep, bc i am v much still sleeby rn and i feel like this dreammare didn't help things lmao

[lancermylove]

Teenager MC 5: Little Misfortune (HC)

Fandom: Obey Me

Pairing: All x Reader, platonic.

Warning: Contains spoilers from Little Misfortune!

Requested by: Anon

Prompt: I am in love with your teenager MC series for obey me. I wanted to ask if you can make one with everybody where MC gets turn into a cute child, however, she acts like the little girl from the game Little Misfortune. I can’t help but wonder their thoughts and reaction to this. Especially if the MC talks about Mr.Voice. 😂 I hope life is treating you well😊❤️🙏😘🤗

A/N: ANON, I love Little Misfortune! This is such a cute request!! TY for sending this in. ❤️ Life is treating me as usual, but I am hoping 2021 is better! 😊 Hope things are going well with you~. 

———————————————

Lucifer

His immediate reaction when you called out to him: since when did a child start living in the House of Lamentation?

The Avatar of Pride was alarmed to see a mini version of you. His thought after seeing you: someone is trying to play a prank. MAMMOOON

"Luci, Mr. Voice told me I am going to die today and asked me to play a game. He says if I win, I can get eternal happiness." 

Your words didn't sit well with him as he started to question you about this, Mr. Voice. Lucifer assumed that Mr. Voice was a demon attempting to play tricks with your mind. 

Has this happened before in Devildom? No. Do strange unexplained things happen in Devildom? YES.

He didn't want to take a chance, especially considering what the disembodied voice said about your death.

"Why exactly do you wish to find eternal happiness? Are you unhappy here?" 

"No, I want to find eternal happiness and give it to Luci." 

Lucifer found your unexpected response endearing. But, he warned you to ignore Mr. Voice. 

While you ran around his study curiously examining everything, Luci worked to find a way to reverse the spell. 

In no time, you were back to your teen self.

"Thank you for thinking of me," Lucifer touched your cheek and kissed the top of your head, "but if you find eternal happiness, then you should keep it for yourself. You deserve it." 

Mammon

His immediate reaction: one of his witch "friends" was getting back at him for something. 

"Mammon, Mr. Voice asked me if I want to play a game with him. What should I do?" 

The Avatar of Greed was confused and questioned you about Mr. Voice. Mammon looked around the room and scratched his head. "You didn't eat anything funny, did you?" 

Then, you told him about your death and finding eternal happiness. "I want eternal happiness for Mammon...give him all the money in the world!"

Even though you said the magic word money, all Mammon heard was I am going to die today.

He dropped to his knees and embraced you tightly. "I don't want any money if it means losing you." 

Mammon was upset. He didn't want to lose you, and he wasn't going to spare the person responsible for doing this to you. 

Until he found the person, though, Mammon told you to ignore Mr. Voice. 

He stayed with you 24/7 until you got back to normal, and even after that, Mammon made sure that no demon messed with you, especially not Mr. Voice. 

Asmo

You entered his room while throwing glitter in the air. "A little sparkle for you, a little sparkle for you, and a little sparkle for me!"

"Sweetie? You look so adorable!" Asmo scooped you in his arms and embraced you close. "But, did someone cast a spell on you?"

Instead of answering his question, you said, "Mr. Voice, don’t say that about Asmo. I like him, his pretty eyes, his hair, his smile, and his clothes." 

Asmo looked around confused and asked you who you were talking to. When you explained to him, Asmo wasn't sure how to react, but something told him that Mr. Voice was most likely a demon trying to mess with you.

"Mr. Voice asked me to play a game with him." 

Asmo shook his head. "Forget about Mr. Voice and play dress up with me instead!" 

While you were busy raid through Asmo's makeup, he contacted Solomon and told him about the situation.

"Btw, Solomon, no need to rush. Sweetie looks so cute, and I want to spend more time with her mini version."

Satan

His immediate reaction: how adorable.

Satan thought that you touched a cursed spell book and got turned into a child. 

He doesn't think much of it until you mentioned Mr. Voice and said, "Mr. Voice says I shouldn't trust you. You may get angry and hurt me." 

Satan was upset, but he asked you about Mr. Voice. Not wasting any time, the Avatar of Wrath threatened Mr. Voice and asked him to leave you alone. 

He now thought that a demon was trying to play tricks on you. 

While you read one of his picture books, he tried to find a spell to cure you. 

Once you are back to normal, he asked, "Are you scared of me? You know I won't hurt you, right?" 

After you leave, Satan went on a hunt for Mr. Voice. Let's just say that Morgo is not going to bother anyone again, especially not you.

Levi

His immediate reaction: you look cute, but... first we had to take care of a teen, and now we have to take care of a child. Could the universe make things any harder? Yes, of course, it can.

Levi sat you in a spare chair and let you watch him play video games, but then he heard you talking to Mr. Voice. 

"Mr. Voice?" Levi thought that name sounded familiar, and when you told him in detail, he had a déjà vu moment. 

"EH? You can hear a voice that is trying to tell you to play a game for eternal happiness? Don't tell me that he also said you were going to die today!" 

"Levi, how did you know? Can you read my mind? Yikes forever!"

Great, the universe wanted to make things even harder for him. Now he will have to leave his room and be your Benjamin. Maybe he should wear his fox onesie while he's at it. 

So, a fox-onesie-clad Levi ended up rescuing you from Morgo's clutch and found a way to get you back to normal. 

Beel

Beel thought you were the cutest being in the universe, and he immediately put you on his shoulders, carrying you around everywhere.

He took you out for food and all sorts of desserts, but then you mentioned Morgo. "Beel, Mr. Voice says that eating this much is bad for me. You are a bad influence." 

He was far from happy hearing this. How could anyone say that eating was bad for you? How dare someone say that eating is bad! 

After getting you back home safely and leaving you under Lucifer’s care, the Avatar of Gluttony went on a hunt to find Mr. Voice. 

And when he did, Beel nearly ate Morgo whole. 

Moral of the story: don’t tell the...THE Avatar of Gluttony that eating is bad. 

Belphie

Huh? Mr. Voice? Eternal happiness? What is she talking about?

Belphie didn't react as his mind was occupied with something else: small child + needing to sleep + Belphie nap time = cuddle partner. So, instead of working about Mr. Voice, Belphie asked you to take a nap with him.

"Belphie, Mr. Voice won't let me sleep..."

"Ignore him and only pay attention to me." He even hummed you a tune to get you to fall asleep. 

By the time nap time was over, you were back to your original self.

Belphie asked if you could still hear Mr. Voice. If you could, he knew he was going to have to do something. 

"Who is Mr. Voice?"

The Avatar of Sloth chuckled, "You need to sleep more. Sleep makes everything better." 

Diavolo

He has no idea how a human child managed to enter Devildom. Only when he paid close attention to your face did he realize who you were. 

Diavolo found you to be irresistibly adorable. He was all smiles until you suddenly said, "But Mr. Voice, I like Diavolo! He's not a bad guy." 

The King of Demons was baffled until you told him about Mr. Voice's game. 

"How about I join you? We can go on an adventure together." He joined in the hunt for eternal happiness without any worries in the world.

"Mr. Voice, are you curious about him? Diav is my friend! He is also the King of Demons and the ruler of Devildom." 

Diavolo smiled and remained silent. 

"Huh? Mr. Voice? Where did you go? Mr. Voice?"

Diavolo laughed, finding this amusing. Once the two of you returned to the castle, he asked Barbatos to watch over you. 

The King of Demons appeared behind Morgo and chuckled menacingly, "So, you were trying to take her soul, huh?" 

That day Morgo realized the meaning of true fear. 

Barbatos

He was stunned to see you as a child but found your mini version to be cute. 

"Barb, are you making dessert? Can I have some?" 

While the demon butler prepared your dessert, he heard you talking to yourself. Your actions don't alarm him as kids are known to have imaginary friends. 

"Mr. Voice, am I really going to die today?" 

That line was enough to alert Barbatos. After making the dessert and watching you eat it, he found a way to get you back to normal.

He pressed you about Mr. Voice, but you told him that you didn't know anyone by the name of Mr. Voice. 

When Barbatos researched Morgo, he found something very amusing. "A demon posing as the devil? How interesting..."

Simeon

His immediate reaction: My god, you look precious.

Simeon couldn't get enough of your mini version, but something bothered him. It almost left like there was a dark presence around you. Was someone trying to harm you?

"Oh really? But, Mr. Voice, I like angels, especially Simeon!" 

"Mr. Voice?" Hearing you say that made Simeon feel even more uneasy. When he learned about the disembodied voice, Simeon turned on his guardian angel mode. 

He held your hands and prayed to the heavens, asking the heavenly powers to protect you. 

Before Morgo vanished, he appeared behind you, catching Simeon off guard. 

After asking Solomon to help lift the curse and making sure that you were back to normal, Simeon went to talk to Diavolo and Lucifer.

The King of Demons and Luci were supposed to protect you, especially from demons. Let's just say that both Diav and Luci were speechless after getting lectured by Simeon. 

Luke

Luke panicked when he saw you, but at the same time, he was secretly happy that there was someone shorter than him.

He started acting like your big brother and became your personal bodyguard; he took you everywhere he went and made sure to hold onto your hand. 

When you told him about Mr. Voice, the angel immediately informed Simeon about it. 

While the older angel worked with Solomon to figure out the mystery of Morgo while you bonded with Luke.

When Solomon and Simeon returned, they found you and Luke cuddled on the couch fast asleep. You with your head on his shoulder while his head rested on top of yours. 

"Why don't we let her stay this way for a little while longer?" Simeon smiled. 

Solomon

As soon as you appeared in front of Solomon, he knew he had to find a cure. But the sorcerer was curious about the curse inflicted on you. 

How did you get this curse and who is responsible? Also, why are you shrouded in darkness?

He didn't waste any time and started looking for a way to lift the spell, but he was distracted by your tiny version. Your fun-size self + throwing sparkles everywhere + twirling around = too cute to resist.

Oh, he was going to have fun teasing you about this when you get back to your teen self.

Then, he heard you talking to Mr. Voice and figured that a demon was trying to trick you. 

"A demon that can trick people and lure them? I wonder if the demon would make a pact with me." Cause 72 demons just isn’t enough.

After getting you back to your teen self, Solomon thought his job for the day was done. Then, he looked around his room - his glitter-covered room.

———————————————

➣ Obey Me Masterlist ➣ Buy me a Ko-fi or Commission?

[pigeonp0st]

Reader jumped off the cliff in Vormir instead of Natasha 😈

Natasha Romanoff x Reader #8

Words: 2,826

Warnings: Reader dies...angst

Notes:

Thanks you for requesting ;) and thanks to @gaytrashgoblin for proofreading. I had fun with this one...I’ve been having fun writing a lot lately.

————

There’s something sick and twisted about the world's constant need to fail the good people in it. Weirdly enough, that’s the first thought you have when Wanda turns into dust in your arms.

Then, the next;

“We failed.”

———

When Natasha finds you crouched by Visions body and staring lifelessly at, it she pounces on you, wrapping her arms around you more tightly than she ever has before and repeating, over and over again, “thank god.”

She’s sobbing into your shoulder with her relief, and your arms are hovering over her back, frozen. Frozen because you’re in shock, frozen because you don’t feel like you’re you. You feel like you're watching someone else’s life, because the Avengers don’t fail. They can’t fail. They...failed?

They failed, you failed, and too many are gone now. Too many are gone but Natasha isn’t, so you sag into her arms and you clutch onto her as tightly as she’s holding on to you, and revel in the fact that you lost everything, but you still have everything. You have Natasha.

It should be enough...but somehow it isn’t. Somewhere along the way of reluctantly becoming an Avenger you started to want more, more than just her, and you curse yourself now for loving these idiots who risk themselves so much. These idiots who mean too much.

———

Natasha is clingy after the...blip (that’s what people have come to call it). She’s clingy, and angry, and devastated, and you push aside everything you're feeling and do everything you can to take care of her for five years, because it’s much easier to analyze and argue about Natasha’s self deprecating habits than to sit down for a moment and realize that you’re not okay.

It’s easier to pull Natasha in at night when she wakes up from one of too many nightmares and tell her that you’re there, that you’ll always be there, when you’re not allowing yourself to think about how much you wish you disappeared with the rest of them.

It’s easier to yell at Natasha for her drinking than to talk about why some days you’re unable to get a drop of sleep, and other days all you do is sleep.

It’s easier to pretend Natasha’s nightmares are what keeps you up at night, and not the way your skin crawls at the possibility of closing your eyes for a second and not seeing her there.

It’s easier to stand alone in front of the doorway of Wanda’s room, replaying the moment she disappeared over and over again, then to do it with Natasha next to you worrying about whether or not she’s letting you down.

——

Time Travel. Getting the infinity stones before Thanos can get his hands on them.

Hope. Hope for the first time in a long time. You look over at Natasha and notice the spark that's in her eyes, the spark that’s been missing for five years, and feel your own type of hope too.

Whatever happens, you’re going to make sure everyone comes back, but more than that you’re going to make sure Natasha gets to see it.

——

You and Natasha are assigned to get the soul stone in Vomir.

The whole trip up the mountain you feel this unexplainable dread and you don’t know why. You don’t know why until;

“In order to take the stone you must lose that which you love. An everlasting exchange. A soul for a soul.”

Natasha is silent and tense as she takes this information in. You begin forming your plan.

——

“We both know what needs to happen here,” Natasha sighs, finally standing up and deciding to stop putting off the inevitable. You glance up at her, not moving an inch other than to tighten your grip on your gun.

You have a plan. A plan that to you seems full proof, but if Natasha goes psycho before you can manage to even say something then you’ll just have to shoot her.

“If you jump off that cliff I'm jumping after you. Titanic style, Nat. Don’t test me,” you pause, narrowing your eyes at the way her own hand tightens on her gun, “don’t even think about trying to physically stop me from jumping because there’s other ways people can die, ways you can’t stop me from when you aren’t here. The Avengers won’t get the stone if I’m given it.”

Natasha tenses again, her jaw locking and her eyes harder and more angry than they’ve ever been looking at you. You know why, it’s totally justifiable, but it still hurts. “Everyone doesn’t come back if we don’t get that stone.”

“Yep.”

“Y/N!” Natasha yells, her voice echoing all around you. “This isn’t a fucking joke, okay? We both know you wouldn’t do that.” Natasha says that but there’s this small barely noticeable uncertainty in her eyes, and it’s all you need.

Natasha won’t jump if there’s even a slightest chance that you’d jump after her. If there was even a slightest chance that you’d fuck up everything everyone has been fighting for, and you wouldn’t—you couldn’t—you think most of her knows that...but nothing in life is certain, and so much uncertainty in something so integral to the mission is too big of a risk.

“You’re...this is your plan, huh?” Natasha says quietly after a moment, wheels visibly turning in her head. “And if I said I'd do the same, if I said I'd jump after you if you didn’t let me do this?” She asks, curious.

You had enough time to think about that too. “You aren’t willing to take the risk that I’m telling the truth when I say I'll jump too. I’m willing to take the risk that you aren’t.”

There’s a long pause where Natasha says nothing, and during it you start to wonder if you read her all wrong. You start to wonder if this is a risk Natasha would take, just to make sure you stay alive, but then Natasha grabs you by the collar of your shirt and pushes you off the log you were sitting on and straight to the ground and you think you’re screwed.

Your instincts have you pointing your gun at her thigh and tightening your grip on the trigger, heart beating a mile a minute, but before you can pull it you feel a tear fall on your cheek.

Natasha’s crying, you realize, heart in your throat. “I’m sorry,” you want to say, “I’m sorry, Natasha. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for not being strong enough the first fight, I’m sorry for not being strong enough for the five years after, I’m sorry for not being strong enough now—strong enough to let you die. I’m sorry for wanting you to live through another death because I’m too weak to do it myself.”

But all you manage to get out is a broken, “Nat,” and you think she understands anyways. You think she understands because she shakes her head roughly and slumps down on you, burying her face in your neck and breathing you in.

“I’m sorry I can’t choose you over the world,” Natasha whispers, voice breaking. And then, angrily; “how dare you?” She asks, pulling away to glare at you so brokenly you start to feel guilt—so brokenly that you're selfishly glad you won’t have to be there for the aftermath of how you destroy Natasha. “How- how could you make me choose when you know…”

She doesn’t finish, just sobs and shakes her head, but you know. You know what she was going to say.

How dare you make her have to choose the world, when you know she wants to choose you.

It’s an admission of defeat that doesn’t leave you feeling victorious.

“You’ve been an idiot before, I can’t risk you being an idiot again. They need that stone,” Natasha gets out between sobs, wanting to explain because she needs you to understand. You already do though. You already do.

“I get it baby. I’ve been too unpredictable,” you laugh but it’s humorless and Natasha only shakes harder. “I’m sorry for all the missions I've sabotaged for you.”

How does one do this, you wonder. How does one just walk off a cliff to save the world, to save the women they love, with the women they love watching. How does one decide when they’ve said all the goodbyes they need to say and are ready, when you don’t think you could ever be done talking to Natasha, when you don’t think you’ll ever be ready to leave her if you’re leaving her alone.

You think you're done and that the world can’t hurt you anymore, but then it hurts you more, and how can you leave Natasha in a world like this one if you’re incapable of showing her it can get better too. If you’re incapable of showing her that there’s beauty in life too.

“Don’t hate people,” you ask quietly, “don’t hate people, or the world, because you had to sacrifice me for it. The world is beautiful, Nat. The world is beautiful,” and as you say it you think back on five years where you were incapable of seeing it and you’re left to regret it all.

That’s the irony of life. You realize things and you see them as they are when it’s too late.

“There’s poetry in life. There’s meaning in everything. Look for it when I'm gone, okay?” You beg, closing your eyes and feeling this. Feeling Natasha on top of you, shaking but there, feeling the breeze, feeling the ground beneath you, feeling the coldness, and the warmth, and everything in between, feeling the beat of your heart, and the breaths you take. Feeling the love. The love that’s there when everything else becomes not good enough.

“Look at the sun when you want to feel me, and listen to the rain when you want to hear me. Listen to the others, you aren’t alone even when I'm not there.”

“Stop,” Natasha pleads breathlessly, squeezing you so tightly you’d be worried about the bruise it’s going to leave later if there was a later for you. “Stop talking. Stop it—stop. You can’t—you can’t. It’s unfair. It’s unfair.”

You nod, opening your eyes again and gently nudging a shattered and broken Natasha off of you. “I was done anyways,” you tell her with a smile, glancing at the cliff you’ll be jumping from. Natasha’s hand holds onto your wrist tightly when she looks at the cliff too.

Her eyes are more expressive than they’ve ever been right now, and you can see how close she is to saying ‘fuck it’ and jumping instead. You can see it in how tense she is, like she’s physically fighting herself to stay, you can see it in the way her breath quickens, the way her eyes narrow like she’s trying to think of another way, and you decide that it’s time to go before she decides she’s willing to risk.

“Close your eyes and count to ten.”

Natasha’s eyes snap back towards you. “I love you,” she says quickly, “I love you so much,” and then she’s kissing you, and pulling back much too quickly , and you're shooting her in the thigh, shooting her because she had this look. This terrifying look on her face that was entirely desperate, crazed, and determined. She was heart over head, when you needed the opposite.

You run towards the edge of the cliff as soon as the gunshot rings out because Natasha is an immovable object and when she wants something a bullet in her leg isn’t going to stop her.

“You’re a real asshole Nat!” You growl out, dodging a grappling hook.

Natasha doesn’t have a lot of long distance weapons on her other than the grappling hook and her gun, and she’s not fast enough to get to you with an injured leg, that’s what you think until she shoots some weird electrocuting web thing at you.

It only takes you out for a couple of seconds, but she still manages to catch up to you in that time.

And now...now you’re scared. Now you’re terrified.

She’s on top of you again, eyes hard and unrelenting as she pushes you into the ground and tries to get up again. You prevent her by wrapping your legs around her waist.

“Natasha! What about Clint’s family?! What about Wanda? What about Peter, he was just a kid, what about—”

“What about you?!” Nat chokes out roughly, struggling against you. “What about you, Y/N, and what about— what about me?”

“It’s either you lose or I lose,” you say softly, freeing your hand from Natasha’s grasp and finding the knife Tony made for you in its safety sheath. It’s hot enough to cauterize a wound—he made it that way because he said you got injured too often—and you brought it just in case. “And Natasha, I’m too selfish and my ego is too big to be okay with losing.”

“There’s no winner here,” Natasha says a moment before you press your scathing knife against her injury.

The yell she releases then is nothing compared to the earth shattering cry she lets out when you manage to escape from under her and leap over the edge of the cliff with one final look over your shoulder and a smug; “I really hope there isn't a hell.”

The whole way down you think of Natasha’s face before you went over the edge, pleading and so unbearably sad. So unbearably unwilling, and not ready to let you go.

Your final thought before you hit the ground is; “The world was really beautiful because of you, Nat”, and then you only have an instant to wish you could have had time to tell her that.

———-

They bring the people they lost from the snap back, but they don’t bring everyone back.

It’s victory, they all know, but it doesn’t feel like victory. It doesn’t feel like victory because Vision is gone, Gamora is gone, Tony is gone, you’re gone, and none of them will ever be the same again.

It’s victory on the back of sacrifice, so it isn’t good enough. It isn’t good enough to be worth celebrating. They’re all just so tired. Natasha is so tired.

They won, but she doesn’t feel that, all she feels standing there is the phantom touch of your hand on her back, and your lips against her ear, asking her to not hate the world, asking for her to look for the poetry of things—but she thinks that if life is full of poetry, then her life is just one tragic poem.

She still tries though. She opens her eyes back up and tries to think of anything other than the way her heart feels so much heavier than it did with half the world gone.

When she looks up at the sky, the clouds and smoke part just a bit and she gets washed in the glow of the sun.

Look at the sun when you want to feel me.

Natasha’s breath catches in her throat, full of too much emotion, and her legs give out from under her, because suddenly the world is beautiful. Suddenly you’re there, and the world is full of poetry too, because there has always been poetry in the way that you have always been there for her when she needed you the most.

“Thank you,” Nat whispers, clutching a hand over her heart and trying to find the words to communicate with you that she needs you forever. That she needs you back. Trying to find the words to say that the sun and rain aren’t enough, but knowing that you realistically couldn’t hear her anyways.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect us from the ugly of the world. I’m sorry I let us live in it for too long,” Natasha thinks, “I’m sorry it was all I could see when you were right there showing me the beautiful.”

———

Wanda is the one to find Natasha after people start wondering where she is. She finds her with her face pressed into the dirt, and oddly enough—the lowering sun peaking through the clouds only touching her.

When she wakes her up Natasha’s eyes are frantic and scared until she looks up in the sky and sees the sun still there. Still on her somehow.

“Are you okay?” Wanda forces herself to ask, even though she knows the answer.

Surprisingly, Natasha nods and laughs, exhausted and delirious. “As long as the sun is still up.”

It’s the closest thing she’s got to you, Natasha doesn’t say.

It’s the only warmth she thinks she’s going to feel for a long while.

It’s the only thing she can find beautiful in the world anymore, even as she tries to look harder for other things like you asked.

It’s the only thing she feels, and the only thing she wants to feel anymore. It’s the only thing she has.

[god1ngs]

━‎ end of the world

synopsis; a forbidden love told for generations

contains; human reader, major character death, swearing, mentions of war, spoilers

god c!technoblade / reader, 3.4k wc

note; the title doesn't make much sense but whatever lol ,, this is for @mayasimagines 's 600 event! congratulations and i hope you like this :)

   throughout the fall of countries, the crumbling of empires, there stood a man. he gazed upon the vast land, the grass stained red. buildings had crashed down, debris staining the area around them. they layed in heaps of piles, taller than most. the fallen down buildings had been a sign of the empire's loss.

   there was no one alive to commemorate the loss however.

   screaming rung inside of his head, shouting and yelling, with some other tones mixed in. displeased and ecstatic and mocking tones blended together, sounds of chaos lingering in the mind of the man. he only sighed, walking away from the destroyed country.

   he's seen this happen too many times before, the repetitive cycle of watching a country build itself only to come crashing down years later. they never lasted long. always the one for chaos, he sometimes participated in the destruction of the countries, though most times he didn't need to.

   humans were savage, brutal creatures who only cared about themselves. by studying their nature, the way they go about certain scenarios, he had figured out that much. selfish, twisted beings who would betray each other in a heartbeat. all it took was more wealth or a promise of better gear.

   how easily swayed they were. technoblade sneered, his red cape dragging beneath him as he stalked the hallways. pillars of quartz, chipped at the edges from years of standing, lined the hallway. they reached the ceiling, some even going higher. the magnificent red carpet he stalked down had ended at a throne.

   a throne made of gold, the shiniest material he could get his servants to find. emeralds and diamonds and rubies lined the top of it, the same jewels lining the gold of his crown. at last, he sat down, the voices calming down at the familiar seating area. they always got loud whenever there was destruction.

   technoblade, the blood god. also known as the god of war and chaos to many, he wasn't very popular among the peaceful people. people often worshipped him for protection, to which he rarely granted. protection from him, a god of war, was seldom. often he didn't care about the hunans enough to waste his protection on them.

   yet, one mortal, had caught his eye. they were nothing too special, middle class and usually someone technoblade wouldn't even spare a glance at. they were different though. they outshined any ray of sun, their smile proving to be the brighter of the two. he found them, despite all odds, very interesting.

   later, after wine and more sparring, the man had caught wind of philza coming over. philza, the angel of death, had been one of technoblade's good allies, even so far as to consider the blond a friend. he brought saints to their knees in their final moments, allowing them either an eternity in hell or a peaceful life above.

   he wanted to meet them, and technoblade always gets what he wants.

   even before technoblade had become the god he is now, forever cursed to watch humanity rip itself apart, he knew philza. the two fought wars together, never straying from their path of loyalty. the blond perched himself on the windowsill, his striking white wings folding on his back, as he smiled at the other. "hello technoblade." he greeted, ever the polite man.

   technoblade only scoffed, shaking his head with an amused grin. "please, phil," he drawled, looking from his red wine to the angel of death. "no need for the formalities. just call me techno." the blond threw his head back with a laugh, wide smile painting his features as the other chuckled. "of course, mate."

   silence washed over the pair for a moment, a comforting silence that allowed them to bask in the moment od seeing each other. they didn't get to visit often, one thing they mutually hated about being in the sky palace, usually swamped with other duties. philza with guiding people to the afterlife, and technoblade with causing conflict.

   "i actually wanted to talk about somethin' with ya, mate." phil broke the silence, hopping off of the marble windowsill to come lean against one of the pillars. the pink haired man, ever so interested, hummed questionably. "and what did you want to speak to me about? come on, spit it out." the man said, looking down at philza.

   he sighed, glancing up at technoblade. "you've been acting off, mate. less wars are starting, and that's weird for you. i know you also started protecting that one mortal. fuck, what was their name?" he murmured, brows furrowed. technoblade sighed in annoyance, not wanting to be pestered with questions.

   "[name]." he answered phil quietly, not bothering to look back at the blond man. the clouds danced with each other in the sky, entertwining and morphing with each other freely. sometimes he wishes he could be as free as the clouds. "you know," phil said, a mischievous glint shining in his eyes. the blood god could only dread what he was going to say. "rumor has it that gods only protect mortals they're interested in."

   the teasing, despite only being light hearted, had a quizzical undertone. while technoblade had been acting strange, protecting somebody was something phil had never expected. either something was special about that mortal and their family, or someone had begun fantasizing. he could only hope it wasn't the latter.

   with more conversation, technoblade denying any feelings blooming for a human, phil left to go do his job. he was alone with his thoughts, the voices making him tug at his own hair to keep them quiet. they craved the mortal, despite how much he willed himself to stay in his throne room, the man had to go see them.

   it was a normal day for you. nothing was different, much less weird. it was only normal, a basket of bread in your hands as you walked home. you hummed as you stepped on the path, enjoying the peaceful walk back to your house. you were content with your life, having a few people and more deaths than you could count.

   and see them he would.

   you partially blamed philza, the angel of death, for the passing of your loved ones, but you also knew he wasn't the one to kill them. he simply took them to the afterlife, guiding them to where they would spend the rest of their days. the deaths in your family had piled up, mostly from war and some of falling ill.

   you spent your days worshipping gods now. you were always the lonely type, choosing to stay by yourself rather than interact with others. you never minded the comforting embrace of being alone, the silence enveloping you at every given moment. it provided you with a sense of comfort you couldn't get anywhere else.

   while you did worship other gods, you mostly worshipped technoblade. he was the primary god, you giving up all your offerings to him ─ ranging from bread to trinkets to gold galore. the tales of the blood god, always grand stories with daring adventures that had you on the edge of your seat, had always intrigued you.

   your favorite, the one you read the most to the slim amount of people you did contact, was the tale of the butcher army. when he was human, a detail that many didn't know whether to believe or not, he blew up many countries. it hinted at the start of him being the god of war many years later. for punishment, the butcher army hunted him down.

   they lied to the man, once they had captured him, in which they had prepared for his execution. some say he died that day, only to be revived due to the gods holy whim; others say he had never died, and broke out of the iron bars to kill the men who had hunted him down. learning about the magnificent god, a god you admired, had faced an army of four and won, allowed you to admire him even further.

   once you got home, setting down your basket of bread, you had sighed. you always liked coming home, your safe space filling you with a joy like no other. the everlasting comfort of your home, a familiar place you longed to be at constantly, helped you feel safe. the comforting feeling of being home at last filled you at peace.

   until it wasn't so peaceful anymore.

   from your kitchen came a clanging noise. there were a few grunts followed afterwards, your eyes wide. fear flooded your system, nervousness coursing through your veins. you stayed silent, hoping you'd either been dreaming or had been imagining sounds. however, once a voice spoke, you knew that was not the case.

   from your kitchen came, with his red cape dragging behind him, technoblade. you stammered, confusion replacing your previous nervousness. your grip came loose on the item you were holding, not being able to process what you were seeing. "well this is awkward." the god stated, putting your kitchen utensils he had just knocked down back on your counter.

   if anything, this was awkward. very awkward. who expected a god to come through their kitchen window? "uh, do you," you stuttered, voice measily yet you still tried to fight it out. "do you mind telling me why you're here?" it was more than odd to see a god in your kitchen, the sight one hard to believe for even yourself.

   technoblade had sighed, draping himself over your couch cushions as if he lived there. his arms, unlike your bare ones, spread across the back of your couch, the sight making you nearly sigh. "well, mortal, i had taken intrest in you." he answered bluntly, your mind still reeling from the fact that he was even here, but taking interest in you? no, this had to be some kind of joke.

   the visible confusion highlighting your features made the god chuckle. it was amusing, seeing the looks on mortals' faces whenever something odd or unexplainable happened. "what's so confusing? i took interest in you, and so i came down here to see you." the blood god explained, shrugging his shoulders. the confusion you felt only worsened.

   why was the question. why was a god in your house? why had he taken interest in you? you shook your head, suddenly feeling lightheaded. "sorry, i need to sit down." you muttered, trying to regain your footing. you sat down, going slowly as to not pass out in front of him. "so," you spoke up as soon as you had calmed down. "why have you taken interest in me?"

   a cloud of silence loomed over the two of you, technoblade falling into his thoughts. why had he taken interest in you? there was no particular shining traits in you, even if he studied you as if you had carved out the world with your own hands; he watched you as if you had brung down a fantastic reign upon everybody.

   "who knows?" he wondered aloud, a hum of amusement following his words. technoblade didn't know the reason for it, and despite itching with curiosity, he didn't bother trying to find out. he only let it be, coming to terms with the fact that you, a mortal, had piqued his interest. you kept him entertained, and that's all that mattered.

   after the two of you talking more, you still trying to get over the shock that the blood god was in your home, you had to say that he was fairly a nice guy. maybe he was kinder than all of the other ones, however you've never crossed paths with a god either, so you couldn't tell. when technoblade had stood up, braided hair falling against your couch, you knew it was time for him to go.

   he turned to look down on you, his towering figure highly intimidating. there was a reason he was feared across nations. he stared at you for a second, maybe deciding on what to say, though you couldn't tell with his blank expression. the man only sighed, wishing you a good day, and then turned to leave.

   "you've got me interested, technoblade."

   you only spoke to the god more after the first encounter. seconds turned into minutes and then minutes turned to hours. he was an interesting guy, choosing which emotion to show and when to show it. perhaps it came with being a god. as he came by more, each visit surprising you, you only talked to him more.

   "as you've got me, [name]."

   soon he started telling you stories. the butcher army, the l'manberg war, how he met philza. he told you great things of philza, the angel of death, so much so you nearly stopped disliking philza. you were always interested in his stories though, no matter how long or how action packed. each further lured you in to his grasp.

   technoblade, however, had stopped visiting so often. with more conflict arising everyday, he didn't have as much time to visit you anymore ─ philza was starting to catch on as well. how he wasn't home as often or how he lied to philza each time he asked him where he was. he was getting suspicious, and wanted answers quickly.

   philza confronted technoblade on this issue a while later. his wings puffed up confidently, he was so sure something was going on with his eldest friends, the edges torn at the seams. "technoblade." he addressed politely, standing in front of his throne once again, as he did not so long ago. he would get answers out of him.

   technoblade only sighed, his cheek pressed against his closed fists as he stared at philza. "yes, philza?" he asked, voice heavy with exhaustion. the recent wars, as much as he loved the excitement and panic that came with it, have been too tiring for him. he also couldn't visit you that morning, only pissing him off more.

   "have you been seeing the mortal you told me you had interest in?"

   silence crashed over the room, violent in its malicious intent. phil's questioned nipped at the blood god, desperately pleading for an answer. philza sighed, one of disappointment and perhaps even anger. the silence was enough of an answer. "mate, are you kidding me?"

   technoblade merely sighed, eyes narrowing at the blond. "you have no say on who i take interest in, phil. that is none of your concern." he dismissed the blond, turning back to look at the window. philza had no say in what technoblade done with his life, no matter how long the two have been friends.

   "none of my concern? mate, they're a mortal and you're a god! hell, the blood god! for fucks sake, mate, you can't be seeing mortals!" philza snapped, brows furrowed and cheeks red from anger. the trouble a god could get in from seeing a mortal was irredeemable.

   if technoblade got caught with the mortal, he would lose not only his titles, but his life. he would be executed.

   technoblade merely scoffed however, rolling his eyes. "as if i'll get caught, philza. those laws are stupid anyways. what, are you going to tell on me?" he arched his brows at the angel of death, sneering at him. how dare he barge into his temple and then go off at him; a beloved friend of his.

   however, the mortal was too intresting to not keep seeing. he may of even caught feelings. how laughable ─ the blood god, feared across empires, falling for a mere mortal. philza only sighed, rubbing his temples. he weighed his options: technoblade could continue seeing the mortal, get caught, and then both of them get in trouble.

   or philza could tell the council. tell them of his affairs, tell them why he hasn't been here as often. once more, a vicious silence swept over them. only for a moment, for philza had declared:

   "if you don't stop seeing this mortal, i'll have no choice but to stop it. don't make me do it, mate."

   his evening visit was late that night. you had already prepared dinner, setting it up for when he was to arrive. from what he's told you, he hasn't had human food in a long time. he told you that gods didn't need to eat nor sleep. you had decided to make him food for when he comes, wanting him to have food even if he doesn't need it.

   the gust of wind from deceiving angel wings swept across his face. messy hair cascaded over his face, and for once, the blood god had found a problem he didn't know he could solve.

   ten minutes. twenty minutes. thirty minutes. you sighed at the mocking tick of the clock, each passing second being another sign that he wasn't going to come. perhaps he had better things to do. frowning, you began to gather the food up, knowing you wouldn't eat it all, before the familiar two knocks came at your door.

   rushing over, once you had opened it, you were surprised to see something different than you were used to.

   technoblade was there, but he looked different. more angry, perhaps even upset.

   worried, you frowned at the god. "are you okay?" you asked, hoping the man was alright. the god only nodded, staring at the ground. he came back to you after a moment of silence, sighing. "yes, just got caught up in some things. nothing for you to be concerned of." he said, brushing you off before you could even speak.

   when technoblade had gone back to his temple, rubbing his temples with a sigh, something unexpected had greeted him. there was philza, perched on the window with a firm look of coldness. "visiting the mortal again, were you, mate?" he asked once he had came into view. technoblade had half a mind to tell him to fuck off.

   that night provided a great distraction from what would come the following days.

   no words were spoken from technoblade afterwards. the betrayal of another friend, a promise to do something about his meetings, had wounded him. he didn't want to lose philza, but also had begun to realise something ─ he had caught feelings for the mortal.

   for you, who had been the sunshine on his darkest days. call it a cliche, but technoblade truly didn't know happiness if you weren't by his side. having watched countless deaths and falls of kingdoms over the many, many years of being alive, the man had never found as great of a comfort than by your side. you were the sun to his moon, a forever shining force to his immortal darkness.

   though the moon and sun are destined to never touch.

   that night, philza had technoblade bring him to your house under promise of telling the council. they had shown up to your house late at night, when the world was asleep. it had been abrupt, the two males coming into your home. you were shaking, scared as to what this meant. the angel of death and the blood god inside your home could mean nothing good.

   and you were right. that night, that forsaken night, technoblade had been cursed in front of your eyes. the wide eyed look on his face, the shock of what a former friend could do. you tried to reach out for him, but were stopped by philza. he permitted you to stay still, or else your blood would be on your walls.

   "technoblade, the blood god and the god of war, i hereby sentence you to an eternity of reincarnation. as long as you are alive, your lover, [name] [last name], will be killed and reincarnated. only ever letting you get close enough to hardly touch them."

   your words were caught in your throat, the cruel punishment knocking the wind out of you. philza's eyes shone, bright in an unholy way, rising up with his wings behind him. technoblade had felt the burning sensation of a marking, a forever sign of the curse, on the side of his neck. a flower had been burnt into the side of his neck, your favorite flower.

   "i'm sorry, technoblade." were the last words you heard before a sword made of light had stabbed through your stomach.

   the blood god had frantically scooped up your body in his arms, panicking for the first time since you've seen him. he tried to get you to say anything, although the words were too hard to say, no matter how hard you tried to get them out. he reassured you would be okay, despite knowing the inevitable would happen.

   "you should've listened to him ... heh, you're a dumbass, you know that?"

   you took your last breath seconds later.

[asgardwinter]

Beginning

fictober day 12 | “You keep me safe.”

summary | It was just the beginning, wasn’t it?

fandom | Marvel

pairing | Loki x reader

warnings | only fluff (but with really sad implications at the end)

word count | 368

author’s note | curiosity: this take place in between ragnarok and infinity war... hope you like it!!

🍁 fictober 2021 masterlist 🍁 Loki Laufeyson masterlist 🍁

The spaceship was really distanced from your previous — and destroyed — home. A lot of asgardian lives were lost and the whole atmosphere was just so… weird. There was no other word you could use to describe it.

There was hope for sure, but it was mixed with so much loss. At the same time a tingling happiness would invade you everytime you locked eyes with Loki, followed closely by guilt to know not everyone was that lucky. It was unexplainable.

Settled against him with your head resting against his chest as you both sat in the bedroom there was finally some peace at your heart. Just like if the whole world had disappeared — it didn’t matter how cliché it may sound.

“What will we do now?” You whispered against his neck.

Loki relaxed his grip for a moment to better look at your worried face, his eyes softening to account that you seemed so lost.

“Thor wants to go to Midgard.” He informed. “He thinks it’ll be good for a fresh start.”

“That seems nice.” Your tone was a bit happier now. “I like Earth.”

“I know you do.”

The silence was comfortable but it still asked for something else to be said. Loki knew it really well.

“We’ll be fine.” He said.

“When did you become this optimistic?” Your hand played with his hair, the lightness was a good thing in the middle of the chaos.

“It is a seasonal occurrence.”

“I wish I was in this season right now.” You joked, but Loki didn’t laugh.

“See, there’s no actual reason for me to fear the future.” He explained simply, his hand untangled yours from his hair intertwining fingers. “You keep me safe. And sane.” That was the most genuine smile you offered him in a while. “I’ll keep you safe too. See? It's settled.”

“I like the way you think.”

“I happen to have the best ideas.”

The opposition between your eye roll and the way you hugged him tighter was everything Loki needed to know his words had the desired effect.

“This is just the beginning, my love.” He kissed the top of your head. “We’ll be fine after all this.”

Just the beginning, right?

ps: now I have a taglist!

[thelastandonlyunicorn]

Supercorp phone call episode 11: “Myx in the Middle“

The off screen phone call Lena had with Kara after finding some answers in Newfoundland Ireland.

“Hello?” Kara's sounds tired and Lena wonders if she calculated the time difference wrong. It should only be half past 8 in National City.

“Hi,” Lena breathes. “How are you?”

“Lena!” All the exhaustion leaves Kara’s voice. She sounds happy to hear from her. “Good. I'm good. How are you? How is your search going?”

Lena smiles slightly, glad she called Kara after this eventful day. Andrea's support had helped her through it but now that she had her answers, she needed Kara’s help to understand what they meant for her.

“I'm okay,” Lena answers. “I found some answers.”

“That’s good,” Kara smiles. “Does that mean you'll be back soon?”

Lena starts playing with her braid. “I think so,” she answers. “I miss everyone.”

“We miss you too,” Kara replies immediately. “We could really use your help against Nyxly.”

“Nyxly?” Lena wonders, not having heard the name before.

“She was with me in the…“ Kara stops and Lena hears the sharp intake of breath before the blonde practically spits out, “Phantom Zone.”

“What happened? I haven’t watched the news yet,” Lena asks, worried.

“It’s okay. We’re okay,” Kara deflects. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Are you sure? I can get on a plane right away, if you need me,” Lena offers. If Kara wanted her there, she would leave immediately. She could come back here anytime.

“No, we’ve got it,” her friend assures her and Lena believes her. Kara first and foremost is a hero. If she needed Lena to save the city, Kara would already be standing here in front of her and pick her up to fly her back herself. Lena almost wishes she would. If just so that Kara can giver her a hug beforehand. “What about you? What did you learn about your mother?”

Lena starts fidgeting with the hem of her shirt but answers anyway. There are no more secrets between them. “Everybody hates her. She murdered someone.”

She hears Kara loud gasps over the line. “Lena, I’m sorry!”

Lena chuckles drily, “Don’t be. It’s only fitting. Other family’s have royals in their blood line and mine has murderers.”

“Lena…” her friend protests but Lena is already speaking again, “You know, I always wanted to be good. I wanted my dead mother to be proud of me and I wanted to prove that I was nothing like the Luthors. And now I learn that she is just like them,” Lena's voice breaks. “Where does that leave me?”

Lena knows she’s unfair towards her mother since she had only tried to help, but the anger and sadness eating her up make it hard to be rational. She had idolized her mother, had spent her life blaming herself for her death and trying to live in the image of her, trying to be good. She had never felt worthy of her love.

And now with the truth out in the open she realizes she is exactly like her, maybe even worse. She had also killed someone to protect another. Yes, Lex had almost killed half the population of the earth but in the moment Lena had pulled the trigger she hadn’t thought of that but of the people she wanted to protect. Kara. Supergirl.

“It leaves you as Lena Luthor, my best friend who has a heart bigger than anyone else. As Lena Luthor, a hero who saved the earth countless times and the lives of billions of people with it. As Lena Luthor, your own person, not defined by blood or family history but your own words and actions.” Kara’s voice is quiet and sincere and Lena can’t stop the tears from falling now. “And those are good, Lena. You are good. That fact doesn’t change anything about you.“

Lena presses a hand to her mouth to muffle her sobs but she is sure Kara can hear them anyway. She doesn’t tell Kara the other fact she has learned about her mother today; that she had allegedly been a witch and Lena has inherited “the spark”. Foremost because she doesn’t believe in it but also because she is sure Kara would.

Lena has seen countless supernatural things, starting with the alien that is her best friend and can fly and shoot lasers out of her eyes. Followed by the kryptonian worldkillers, one of which had resided inside her other friend’s body, a body that could change its whole genome whenever the worldkiller decided to come out. And lastly, to top it all, a whole new universe created by a wish (as Kara has told her) after the multiverse had collapsed.

There were some scientific explanations for parts of this. For example, Kara's alien DNA and the way the yellow sun granted her powers was something Lena could work with. However, larger parts she couldn’t quite explain. Yet, Lena used to emphasize. Things that seemed impossible 30 years ago are now used on a daily basis and phenomena that are unexplainable today will be understandable in the future, Lena is sure of that. Magic is just a term for science that isn’t comprehensible yet.

But then again, aliens with supernatural powers are a thing, why not humans?

Lena shakes her head at herself, wiping away the tears that wet her cheeks. If magic is real, she possesses it and all she has ever accomplished can be traced back to it, then who even is she?

“Where are you right now?” Kara asks into the silence. “I can fly over.”

“No,” Lena clears her throat. “I’ll be okay. National City needs you.”

And she means it. She will get to the bottom of this and she has to do it alone. This is her demon to face. Kara already has enough on her plate.

Her friend sighs quietly, accepting her choice, “Okay. But I’m here if you wanna talk. Anytime.”

“That goes for you too, Kara,” Lena reminds her, not able to keep the hint of worry out of her voice. Kara is used to playing strong and giving her all, but after everything she's been through, Lena hopes she'll finally allow herself to share her burdens, to take a step back and let the others help her. “I know I left right after you came back from… there. But I’m always here for you if you need me.”

“I know,” Kara breathes. A beat goes by until she adds, “I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” Lena replies quietly. “Say hello to the others for me.”

“I will,” Kara agrees. Her voice is hopeful when she asks, “I'll seen you soon?”

“Soon,” Lena promises.

[lnnlove]

somebody else | j.m.

summary: you and jj had only recently broken up after he wouldn’t commit to being in a real relationship with you. you’re at a party on a friday night at the boneyard when you notice him staring at you with the guy you’re moving on with. based on the lyrics to somebody else by the 1975.

pairing: jj maybank x female reader

word count: 3.3k

So I heard you found somebody else. And at first I thought it was a lie.

“Here you guys,” Kie says as she drops off some food at the table that JJ is sitting at with John B and Pope on the deck at The Wreck. It’s Friday afternoon, and they’re getting something to eat before they go set up for the party at the Boneyard.

She falls into the open chair in between John B and Pope, with her gaze falling on JJ as he starts eating. She doesn’t look away from him, but sits in silence with an all-knowing expression, waiting for him to realize that she’s looking at him. 

He finally looks up and realizes that she’s looking at him. He looks down at his shirt to see if maybe he dropped a piece of food, but sees nothing there. He wipes at his mouth seeing if there was something on his face. When he exhausts all of the usual reasons for her to be staring at him, he finally asks “What Kie?”

She exhales. “(Y/N) is here,” she says plainly, hoping not to come across to insensitive. She knows that he needed a warning before seeing you. 

“Okay... she has the right to go where ever she wants,” JJ tries to deflect, but he can’t suppress the sinking feeling that grows in his stomach. He tries to play it cool so that no one will notice. He hasn’t seen you since the fight that ended your relationship. He shakes the memories out of his head that try to creep their way in. 

“She’s with someone. They’re on a date,” Kie adds. She can’t make eye contact with him.

“What?” JJ spits out. He let go of trying to be cool. A memory of you crying in your car flashes in his brain and he feels a sudden pain like he’d just been punched in the stomach.

“That’s a lie,” he tries to laugh it off initially, thinking Kie must be joking. His fake smile fades when he sees that Kie is serious. “You’re kidding right? That can’t be true,” he says more serious as he shakes the feeling of guilt and regret back out of his mind.

John B and Pope have stopped eating now, looking around between JJ and each other, communicating with their eyes. They know that he’s not ready to see you, especially with somebody else.

“Why? You think she should still be hung up on you?” Kiara retorts. She is still a little mad at JJ for letting you go so easily. She loves you and wishes JJ wouldn’t be so stupid since all you wanted was to be able to call him your boyfriend publicly instead of messing around in private.

Yes! JJ thinks to himself. But he knows better than to say that out loud in front of Kie. How can she already be moving on when just a few weeks ago she was moaning his name in his ear and asking him if she could be his? 

“No, it’s just surprising because it feels soon,” JJ clears his throat and says quietly, almost under his breath, trying to brush it off like it’s not eating him up. 

It’s silent. No one knows what to say. Well, Kiara knows what she wants to say but she doesn’t want to kick JJ when he’s down. 

“You know what,” JJ breaks the silence. “I’ll see you guys at the Boneyard. I’m not hungry anymore.” And he leaves the table before any of his friends can interject. 

They notice that he walks the long way around the restaurant instead of going though it. 

I don't want your body. But I hate to think about you with somebody else.

JJ walks along the beach down to the boneyard in a mood that he can’t explain. He’s been wandering around for an hour since he left The Wreck, just lost in his thoughts about you. 

You don’t want her. JJ reminds himself every time he feels his thoughts slip to you. Yeah you made that very clear when you broke up with her. His deeper thoughts fire back and a flash of your face the night he told you he’d rather lose you than be only yours pops into his mind, making him stop in his tracks and sit down in the sand. He feels cold. 

JJ sits there for a long time, his mind going back and forth like crazy thinking about the night you last spoke. His mind doing mental backflips, trying to convince himself that he made the right decision and thinks to himself one last you don’t want her, not even just her body. 

But the thought of you with somebody else makes him feel an unexplainable sickness. He can’t stand to think about it any more. 

JJ instinctively reaches into his pocket and pulls out the bowl he packed for the party that night. He quickly lights it and after the first exhale immediately starts finding peace. He takes a few more hits and can finally pick himself up again, resting assured that he made the right decision in ending things with you. 

JJ gets up out of the sand and walks faster toward the party, eager to have some drinks with friends and distract his mind with something else.

I'm looking through you while you're looking through your phone. And then leaving with somebody else.

“There you are,” Kie says to JJ as he approaches her, John B & Sarah, Pope, and some other friends sitting around a fire. JJ smiles and accepts the cup that his friend is handing to him. 

“Thanks,” JJ says and takes a seat in between John B and Kiara, catching up on the conversation that they’re having. He tries to join in, but everytime he opens his mouth, he changes his mind, so he sits quietly by the fire staring off into the distance and drinking his drink.

John B notices his oddly silent best friend and leans over to ask “You okay man? You’re really quiet.”

“Yeah, I’m fine just listening,” JJ responds without making eye contact. John B notices that he’s looking out at the party and knows JJ better than to pry any further.

Pope notices too, he sees JJ eyes moving rapidly among the crowd, scanning the faces and thinks he’s probably looking for someone to take home when he suddenly sees them stop and his expression harden, then soften, then harden again.

Pope follows JJ’s line of sight to a log around another fire. The glow of the flames illuminates your figure, lighting up your pretty face. Oh no Pope thinks to himself. He knows JJ enough to know that he’s not as okay as he wants the other Pogues to think, they’ve just been entertaining it so that he doesn’t push them away.

“Let him look,” Kie says quietly as she interrupts Pope’s train of thought. She hopes that him seeing this will make JJ realize what an idiot he was and maybe just maybe he’ll snap out of it.

You’re sitting next to somebody else on the log, trying to keep up with the conversation around you, but can’t seem to speak up in time to get a word in. The others are talking about things that you don’t care much about and you can’t seem to force yourself to fake it like you normally can. All you can manage to do is take out your phone and scroll through your feeds, thinking about times when you were happier, and pretend that you can’t feel JJ staring through you from where you noticed he was sitting.

You can’t even force a fake smile to fool him. She looks miserable, JJ thinks to himself while he stares at you across the beach.

I’m going over there, JJ thinks and just as he stands up, a girls he’s never seen before jumps in front of him and says “You want to get a drink?” JJ accepts and just like that, now he’s leaving with somebody else. Thank god she snapped me out of that. He thinks as he walks away with the touron who reminded him that he was right to end things.

No, I don't want your body. But I'm picturing your body with somebody else.

JJ leads the touron away from the party to a spot where he’s taken tons of other girls. He hasn’t even asked her name, but the dark side of his mind likes not knowing.

She hastily starts kissing him, JJ struggling to keep up with the sloppy kisses. JJ likes her eagerness and guides her down to lay on her back as he shifts himself to be over her. The movements spark a memory in JJ’s mind of the first time he can remember laying you down like this and how his heart was beating out of his chest that night. In his mind, he’s looking at you standing on the beach with your toes in the water motioning for him to come join you. 

No, I don’t want your body. JJ angrily thinks at the memory of you, wondering why he can’t get you out of his head, trying to refocus on the touron currently tugging at his shirt and pulling his head down hard to kiss her. This is the first girl he’s tried to be with since your fight. He’s trying to prove to himself that he was right, he wasn’t ready to give this up to be exclusive.

JJ is kissing her hard, trying to fein interest when in the back of his mind, he knows that he’s not interested. He’s on top of her now, with his blonde hair hanging down in her face for her to run her fingers through. When she does, he remembers how much he likes that feeling and has been craving it since the last time he had you.

(Y/N) used to do that, he thinks as she is scratching at his bare back. And now she’s doing that with somebody else. His thoughts backfires. He shakes it off.

Things progress rapidly and JJ thinks he’s ready. The touron reaches behind her neck and starts to untie her bikini top, but JJ can’t shake the thought of your body and how it fit perfectly in his strong arms. It’s the body he wants to see right now. And it’s the body that somebody else gets to touch and kiss and please, his mind won’t let up.

Before she can get the knot untied, JJ interrupts her and says with a sigh “I’m sorry, I can’t let you do that.” He can’t look her in the eye. He doesn’t want to take advantage of her like this when he’s picturing your body instead of hers.

“What? Is something wrong?” she asks. 

“Not with you. I just can’t give you what you want,” JJ responds and offers her a hand up as he stands up himself. 

Our love has gone cold. You're intertwining your soul with somebody else.

JJ walks back to the party alone, understanding now more than ever that he’s blown it with you. It’s over, he thinks. Our love has gone cold. 

He looks around desperately for you, all the places he can think you’d be at the party. You’re not on the log where you were when he walked away. You’re not dancing with your friends like you used to to impress him. You’re not sitting down by where the waves crash. You’re nowhere to be found. And neither is the guy you were with.

“They left,” Kiara approaches JJ, knowing exactly what he was wondering, and confirming JJ’s fear. She puts her hand on his shoulder and doesn’t say anything else, trying to comfort her friend because she knows he’s finally realized his mistake. 

I’m too late, JJ thinks to himself. But he realized his mistake too late. She’s intertwining her soul with somebody else. Because you wouldn’t give her that, his mind takes over now, a wave of sadness coming over him. 

JJ shakes the sadness off - avoiding it being his only defense mechanism when dealing with hard emotions. He can’t admit defeat. He takes a deep breath, puffs his chest, and nods his head. You can do this, he thinks. 

“Whatever,” he says bluntly, “I don’t want her anyway.” JJ walks off, keeping up his persona and leaving Kiara rolling her eyes and shaking her head behind him. She can’t believe he won’t let himself feel things.

I'm looking through you while you're looking through your phone.

When JJ comes back to the party, his closest friends know what’s coming. They’ve seen this before. When he is hurt, he acts out trying to prove that he’s anything other than hurt. 

JJ fills his cup, downs it, fills it again, downs it, and fills it again. Drinking to forget it one of his favorite activities. He has to build up his wall against you and he’s got to do it fast. 

JJ is not sitting quietly on the log anymore. He’s shouting stories and shotgunning beers. He’s animated, making his friends laugh. He’s getting all of his energy out that’s been pent up all of this time. I’m fine, he thinks. See? I’m fine.

After two or three hours, he finally sits down in the sand away from the fire, just to catch his breath. He looks out on the ocean and to the moon, letting his eyes wander around the beach. His attention is pulled to a bright light down the beach, away from the party. At first he thought it was the reflection of the moon on the wet sand, but it was the light from a phone. 

JJ squints, trying to see who it was, but he immediately knew once the figure stood up. He could recognize your long legs and the way you walk from a mile away. 

He doesn’t know if it’s the sudden clarity he found about your relationship, or all of the alcohol he’s consumed, but he can see through your act. You’re lonely. 

JJ stands up and gravitates towards you. He can feel himself walking fast after you, as you walk further away from the party, looking at pictures of the two of you on your phone that you have to delete in order to move on. 

“(Y/N),” JJ calls out to you. You stop dead in your tracks, and drop your arm so that you’re no longer looking through your phone. You are scared to turn around and face him. 

I don't want your body, I don't want your body. I don't want your body, I don't want your body.

“(Y/N),” he repeats. His breathing is heavy, but not from running after you. You are still standing with your back to him, tears welling in your eyes at the sound of his voice. You can’t let him see you like this. 

“(Y/N) talk to me,” he demands. You swallow your tears and turn on your heels to face the boy that broke you just two weeks ago. 

The look on your face sends JJ spiraling. It’s the first time he’s seen you up close since your fight in the car. He feels an uncontrollable urge to take you in his strong arms but he knows he’s lost that privilege. There was a time when he would have done lots of bad things to anyone that hurt you like this, but what’s he supposed to do when he’s the one who did it?

“What?” you try to hiss out, but it comes out like a whisper. You can’t show how hurt you are so you try to mask it with anger. 

“I see you found somebody else,” JJ chokes out. He’s upset but he’s trying to act like he’s happy for you so that you can’t see. “That’s..... good.”

You ignore him. “I see you’re taking advantage of your freedom tonight,” you scoff back, hinting at him with the touron. 

It’s dead silent. Only the sound of the waves crashing on the beach offer any noise other than the heavy breathing and loud hearts beating between the two of you. 

“What am I supposed to do when I see you off with somebody else?” JJ growls in response. He’s angry now. 

“Oh so you can have your freedom to see other people but I can’t?” you scream back at him, using the reason he broke up with you like a dagger against him. You’re angry too. 

Before he can respond, you continue yelling “No JJ, please tell me why you’re allowed to break up with me because you’re not ready to give up random tourons to be only mine,” your words are sharp in his stomach, “but I have to sit around with a broken heart, not allowed to move on because I’m only yours.”

You stand there momentarily catching your breath. You haven’t torn your eyes away from JJ’s, staring daggers through them. “It must be because I’m not enough for you. Is that it?” You won’t let him get a word in because you’re scared of what he’ll say. 

You continue yelling, all the things you’ve thought for the last two weeks after JJ ending things that you didn’t get the chance to say to him then. 

It makes JJ’s head spin, realizing the pain he caused you and his doubts about his decision coupled with his cool exterior trying to show that he regrets nothing and that he was right to do it. He’s torn up. He turns away from you and brings his hands up to his ears to block out the fight.

I don’t want your body. I don’t want your body. is on repeat in his mind, trying to win over the side of his mind that wants to give in to you and admit that he made a huge mistake. 

“Really? Because you staring at me across the beach all night and following me out here and repeating that you don’t want me over and over again makes me think that you do!” You finally stop. 

JJ, instantly sober at the realization that he was saying that out loud, turns again to face you. You can see right through his act too. 

His face is flushed. He’s panting for air, and his heart is pounding. It’s like his voice is paralyzed, he can’t say anything. 

When he looks at you, you are soft again, finally quiet, and the tears that you have been choking back have spilled over, running the mascara on your eyes and catching the reflection of the moonlight as they streak down your cheeks. 

“And I still want you,” you break the silence with a whisper, your eyes closed and eyebrows furrowed, bracing to be rejected again, ready to make that the last thing you ever say to him.

JJ barely heard it, but the small sound of those words coming out of your mouth finally convinced him that he made a mistake letting you go. 

He lunged forward, determined to close the space between you in this moment. In an instant, he is in front of you. You can feel his warm body and you’re looking up into your favorite eyes. It only lasts for a second before your face is in both of his hands and he is kissing you with such intensity that you have to hold on to him, to keep from falling down. You lock your arms around his neck and lace your fingers into his hair, making sure that he won’t pull away from you again. 

When he does, he can only pull away an inch or two with his forehead still pressed firmly into yours, just enough to get the words “and I only want you,” out. 

“I’m ready,” he says into your lips and you kiss him back with everything that you’ve been saving up during the days you were without him, thinking to yourself finally.