#--extended period of time without crying of rage

[smallblueandloud]

also i was tagged by both @tanoraqui and @paperairplanesopenwindows to share the last line i wrote!

Natasha gives her a tight smile. “Can I come in?”

they've met, babey!!

tagging, uh, @alwinfy @aurorashard @finxwrites and @arithmonym!

[bitter-panacea]

About Goultard's Dissociative Identity Disorder

This post is a collection of thoughts, analysis, wild extrapolating, reading too much into small details, and pure speculation. Please forgive how messy this is, this whole post might be uncomprehensible.

Some things Goultard says about the system

- he created it to make immortality bearable

I truly dont believe he means he consciously created his alters. He can hardly control them. They were a creation of his mind as a means of coping with / surviving the various traumas he faced throughout his life.

- it's a curse given by his father

Either the "curse" he speaks of is immortality itself, or he holds his father and god responsible for what he's had to go through (without him ever protecting or saving him)

The Alters

Goultard : Apparently Normal Part, Host. He's aware of the system. But sometimes partially forgets about it and how it functions.

I assume he has pretty unreliable memory. Sometimes forgets where he is, how he got there, what he was supposed to do, he can forget about things that happened or that he did etc...

Classic dissociation + can enter a kind of hibernation/complete dormancy and sleep for weeks, months, years, when needed or out of boredom.

Vlad : Emotional Part. Formerly unaware of the system, now aware of it (or at least aware of goultard being the host) embodies anger, exteriorizes unresolved rage and resentment by violently lashing out until the body has calmed down.

Somewhat naturally takes a protective role without really meaning to, taking control when certain emotions become too much to bear for the host, redirecting the violence outward instead of inwards.

First fronting triggered by Algathe's death.

Vald : Between Fragment and Apparently Normal Part. Not aware of the system. Too little experience and time fronting to pass as a fully formed individual (but people usually assume he's just stupid). In a way, his role IS to be too stupid to feel sadness, or anything much. But could develop into a real ANP if given the chance.

Born out of a desire for numbness. Possibly related to missing the crimson dofus after it was taken away from the system?? The whole system seems very attached to the crimson dofus, yearning for its warmth, letting its power consume them from the inside out.

How they form

Vlad and Vald didnt suddenly appear because of a single event each triggering them into existence. Rather they formed slowly and over extended periods of time from more or less specific needs, locked away in the confines of the mind before being awakened and forced to front by a triggering event causing a switch.

The underlying cause of the disorder being the hundreds of years spent inhabitated by a symbiotic shushu, manipulating his emotions and sense of self, slowly fracturing it over time.

Other Alters ?

There could potentially be more alters staying in hiding, unbeknownst to Goultard (and the rest of the system)

The differences between the way goultard acts in dofus and in wakfu, specifically emotionally, could imply a split happened between dofus and wakfu. A new identity that hasnt fronted yet would have taken these aspects that the host no longer has.

Most probably caused by losing arty, goultard's love for him was what freed him from the demon after all.

Goultard now hides in order to cry, when he used to feel no shame crying nuzzled in Arty's arms.

This would have been exacerbated by Goultard being put into a role of mentor and caregiver to Tristepin, worsening his emotional repression (that a new emotional part could have formed to embody instead).

Tristepin being the reincarnation of his father, whom he has conflicted feelings about, and having his children brutally murdered in the past, explain why he'd want/need to keep him at a distance, wanting him to not think of him as family, only as his mentor/master.

Edit : I forgot to mention his habit of self-isolation, just imagine I did

[pumpkin-cake]

Not On My Watch

(katsuki bakugou x gn!reader)

summary - kats helps out a reader with depression

warnings - cursing, depression, feelings of hopelessness, mentions of not eating for an extended period of time

Yesterday - 9:00AM - Seen.

Yesterday - 5:44 PM - Seen.

10:31 AM - Seen.

“Answer me, damn it!” Katsuki shouted at his phone, staring at the screen in rage. He’d been texting you for days. You never once answered. He called, texted, left voicemails, everything. He contacted your friends. Midoriya, Jirou, Kirishima, and Mina had no clue what you had been up to. Katsuki was getting sick of it.

I’m coming over.

He shoved his phone into his pocket angrily and swiped his keys, going out to his car and getting in. He slammed the door shut and stuck the keys into the ignition.

He was at your place lickity split. Katsuki stepped out of his car and slammed the car door shut like before, walking to the front door and checking his phone.

10:58 AM - I’m coming over. - Seen.

“You idiot, what the hell?” He grumbled, knocking on the door. He waited not-so patiently and knocked again after the first minute of no response.

“Hey! Open the hell up!”

But nobody came. Katsuki felt his eye twitch.

“I’m coming in, idiot!” He shouted, picking up the small flower pot on your front porch and grabbing the spare key you kept there. He unlocked the door and stepped in, pocketing the key.

It was so musty. What in the world? He glanced around the surroundings and frowned. When had you last cleaned? You weren’t some kind of slob. Why were clothes and blankets strewn everywhere? He could see dishes piled up in the sink, and dirty counters.

“The hell?” He grumbled, stomping up to where your room was and flat-out opening the door. Luckily, you were decent. Well, that’s what he assumed.

A large pile of blankets were on the bed, and if Katsuki squinted he could see it faintly moving up and down. Your room was also a complete mess. Empty cups on every surface, clothes everywhere, and a not so pleasant stench filling the room.

“Oi, dumbass. The hell’s wrong with you?” He grabbed the blankets and yanked them off.

Your eyes stared wide from your fetal position on the mattress. Your scleras were tinted red, and there were tear streaks on your cheeks.

“K-Katsuki..?”

“I told you I was coming over. I know you read my damn messages. You’ve been doing just that for days. How come you’re ignoring me, huh?” He raised an eyebrow, towering over you.

That’s when the tears filled your eyes, and you quickly rolled over to stop him from seeing them flow down your cheeks.

Shit, he was too harsh. He knew you were upset, why did he make himself sound so irritated?

He sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed. He put his hand on your shoulder and rubbed it with his thumb.

“Y’ don’t have to turn away to cry.” He mumbled. “Tell me what’s the matter.” He carefully pulled you so you’d turn back over, staring at him with your wet face.

“K-Kats…I’m sorry…” you sniffled, furiously wiping at your eyes. “I didn’t mean to ignore you…I just…I dunno…” You averted your gaze, not feeling like you could face him.

“You’ve been feeling shittier than usual?” He guessed, gesturing to the room.

“…yeah.”

This had happened before, Katsuki remembered. It was like an episode of depression. Every so often your mental health just hit rock bottom. You hated talking to anyone, feelings of being overwhelmed came quicker, and you just felt…empty. He should have realized what was going on sooner. So, he went through his checklist with you.

“When have you last eaten?” He asked, carefully pulling you into his lap.

“…”

“Answer me.”

“…two days ago.” You shoved your face into his chest, purely ashamed.

Katsuki had half the mind to scream at you. Two days without sustenance? It was like you didn’t give a shit! Well, you probably didn’t at this moment in time. He let a sigh escape.

“Nothing at all?”

“…I’ve had some bread..?”

“Well, you better believe you’re gonna get something in that stomach of yours.” Katsuki said firmly. “Idiot…you can’t be doing that. ‘S not healthy.”

“I-I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. I get it, okay?” He said, trying his hardest to be understanding. “I’ll cook you up the best damn meal you’ve ever had.” He said, a bit cockily. “You better eat it too.”

He received a nod in response, feeling your body melt into his when he stayed calm with you.

“What about showers?”

“…”

“Okay, not for a while.” Katsuki rubbed his temples, not out of anger, but guilt. He felt guilty he just let you suffer like this. “How about this? You get in the shower and do your business and I’ll cook.”

“You don’t have to, Kats…”

“Hey, listen to me, idiot.” Katsuki moved so your face was directly in front of his eyes. His crimson irises almost burned through your soul. “I’m your boyfriend. I’m gonna help you, dumbass.” It was so simple but very effective. Katsuki wasn’t one to make a large, cliche speech, but instead tell it how it was.

“…okay.” You reluctantly agreed, gasping when Katsuki stood and tossed you over his shoulder. “Katsuki! What are you doing?!”

“Taking you to the shower. Unless you wanna get up by yourself?” He smirked, chuckling when you shrugged and went limp against him. He walked you to the bathroom, placing you down and pressing a very quick kiss to your head. “Shower.” He demanded, before going down to your kitchen.

He sighed at the state of your kitchen, rubbing his temples. You poor thing. He brushed it off and got to work. He started on the dishes, loading the dishwasher and then hand washing the rest by hand. After doing the dishes, he went ahead and got a meal going. He decided to go with a simple meal. You liked ramen, right? Definitely not that shitty Cup Noodle crap. You deserved WAY better. While he cooked, he cleaned up the rest of your kitchen. Wiping off counters, sweeping, and tossing out any expired food left in the fridge or pantry. He certainly hoped this would make you feel better.

He glanced in the direction of the bathroom when he heard the water turn off, glad he finished up just in time. He hurriedly set the table and got a glass of water and set it by the bowl.

Katsuki crossed his arms, very satisfied with his work. He looked over as you came into the room with one of his shirts and a pair of basketball shorts that were probably also his. Your eyes widened at the meal sitting on the table.

“Bon Appetit, dumbass.”

[thedarkthingcreator]

What are mood swings? Instantly understand 5 causes

Varies in the mood:

Have you ever had moments of satisfaction followed by irritability? When you're having a good time, chirping and dancing around the house, and then you find yourself lying in bed thinking about your entire life.

Daredevil, there's no real significance to these feelings—they're just the product of your hormones. They are just mood fluctuations. Mood swings are defined as an abrupt or notable shift in one's emotional state. A person experiencing mood swings may go from an upbeat, enthusiastic condition to one of melancholy, irritation, or wrath in an instant. You can take advantage of these indications of mood swings when you experience them. What does a man's or woman's mood fluctuation mean? Five typical causes

While mood fluctuations are Frequently perceived as affecting women, they impact individuals of all sexes. Generally speaking, the biggest causes of mood swings are poor diet, lack of sleep, and substance misuse. Mood swings can affect anybody and everyone for the following reasons:

Bipolar illness:

Mental disease or a mood-related disorder (depression) are the causes of mood swings with highs and lows (manic or hypomanic). Bipolar MDD, also referred to as clinical depression, is a dangerous illness that can have a variety of effects on a person's life.

Having trouble sleeping:

Your body and brain are at rest from the outer world when you are sleeping. Just before bed is the ideal time for your body to recuperate. As a result, getting too little sleep frequently makes you agitated and unhappy. In other words, getting too little sleep might lead to irritability and a short fuse. Severe mood swings can result from sleep deprivation, which can cause mood changes. Studies show that individuals with sleep disorders have reduced pleasant moods and an increase in negative emotions (such as rage, irritation, impatience, and depression).

Bringing blood sugar down:

Low blood sugar may be the cause if you've ever felt like you're "hanging," which is when you're both hungry and irate. This is what happens to some people who go a long period without eating. If your blood sugar is low, you could feel confused, lonely, angry, or melancholy. You can even get the want to cry or yell.To feel better, you ought to eat something. The brain, which stores your emotions and thoughts, depends on glucose to function. If you don't give your brain enough energy, that is, if your blood sugar is low, your brain may become unhinged. Even though you can feel like everything is too much for you, this could be a medical symptom of hypoglycemia.

Underline:

Stress can arise at any time in life, be it at the office following work, at home following housework, or for any other reason. Extended periods of stress can lead to depressive, angry, or bitter sensations as well as mood swings and unpleasant thoughts. Once you shift your focus from the primary cause of your stress, you'll begin to feel better. Regular exercise has been shown to reduce stress.

Coffee: 

Some may be surprised to learn that even caffeine can make some people feel moody. Your mood swings may be caused by the coffee, soft drinks, and other drinks you drink. Because caffeine stimulates your neurological system, it may cause you to become more alert than usual. Regular consumption will cause your body to become accustomed to its effects. At this point, attempting to cut back on your consumption will likely make you feel depressed and moody. You might get agitated, restless, nervous, or weary. 

How can you control or manage mood swings?

Although it might be challenging to manage mood swings, there are things you can do to help them:

Establish a schedule: Make an effort to set up time for yourself, particularly for eating and

Concentrate on your present emotions:

Regular exercise Frequent exercise improves nearly every element of your health, including your emotional state. You might be firmer and more at ease since your muscles are loosened and relaxed.

Make time for sleep:

It's crucial to have a good night's sleep, and not getting enough sleep might have an impact on your mood. Adopt a well-rounded diet:

You can preserve your health and elevate your mood with a well-balanced diet.

Practice relaxation techniques such as yoga or meditation when you're feeling restless or agitated. It's easier said than done, so try not to overstress yourself. If you're unable to stop worrying, consider using music, friends, or other hobbies as ways to divert your attention.

Talk to it:

Speak with a trusted friend, relative, counsellor, or other individual. Some natural remedies for irritability and mood swings have been discussed above, along with tips for controlling mood swings naturally.

Have mental health issues? Don't wait; schedule a session at GoodLives right now. 

[lowlypotatofarmer]

not to go on an Anti Capitalist Librarian Rant, but i am so angry at audiobook sites (audible) who take a form of media that is supposed to make reading more accessible and lock it behind a steep paywall. audiobooks are often the only way for people who are visually impaired to read books. even for those who just struggle with small print or to focus on something for extended periods of time, audiobooks offer a way for them to still be able to enjoy the reading experience. or just for those who just want to have a hands-free way to read, audiobooks are supposed to be accessible to all. i cannot express the rage i feel when those get locked behind a paywall without even the option of borrowing it from a library, because audible doesn’t allow libraries to access their exclusive titles!!

the whole point of libraries is to be a free source of information for all, which includes anything people want to read, in whatever form they want to read it, however it’s available. and it’s so completely ridiculous that companies like amazon—who already have so many other sub-companies making them stupid amounts of money—are allowed to corner a market that is ultimately for those seeking accessible forms of media. having to spend $15+ a month in order to read a single best seller because that’s the only place it can be found? because they decided to make it an audible exclusive and have it unable to be accessed any other way than paying? and then having to attempt to navigate a stupidly complicated website in order to access something that is supposed to simplify people’s lives?? that isn’t accessible. and it makes me so sick to think about the fact that libraries are RIGHT THERE and pay so many companies so much money to be able to offer audiobooks and ebooks and physical copies of both of those things (which should be free to begin with but that’s a whole other can of worms because money has to be made somehow) only to be shut down by the LARGEST corporation in the world?? a company that doesn’t need that money in any way?

i cannot accurately articulate my point on this but i am so over seeing additional barriers put in place to prevent people from accessing books and reading in whatever form is most easy and convenient for them. truly very few things make me more upset.

**and to add! just an additional ‘fuck you’ from audible. they push the ‘use one credit and it’s yours to keep!’ angle but literally don’t offer any way to just rent books. i don’t want to keep some of these books, i want to borrow them for the time it takes to finish them, and be done with it (you know, like a library?? where it’s free?? but they don’t work with libraries so they wouldn’t know…). it’s just. everything is so fucked up and everyone is so money hungry and sometimes i just want to cry about the world we live in and audiobook accessibility is just a small corner of the issues that exist.

[cottoncandyjester]

I miss Axel, does he miss me too? 🥺

How would the other soft boys feel seeing us again for the first time in a long while? Like something happened, and darling had to leave for an extended period with the promise they would come back to the soft boys?

This ended up becoming a game called “hey look at all those ocs Jax just abandoned, they are back” if you remember all of these ocs I’ll give you a cookie

Warning this contains: yandere behavior, sexual behavior, fluff

You had to go on a trip, you promised him you’ll be back. You couldn’t take him with you and he promised he would be well behaved and wait for you, that was a year ago. You just stepped into the airport, jet lag Hitting you but your determination to find your love gave you a burst of energy. As you walked around the airport you saw him..without thinking you screamed his name and gained his attention…

Axis:

Axis had been on his phone when he heard your voice, at first he thought he was dreaming but he smelled a familiar scent before your voice once again rang out. He soon felt your arms around him the utter feeling bringing him to tears, though with axis a lot of things made him cry.

He hugged you tightly his small sniffling turning into loud choked sobs as he let the walking stick at his side fall to the ground. “I-it’s you! It’s absolutely you! I-it’s you right? I-I’m not dreaming?” He whimpered out now having a voice laced with fear. You placed your hands on his cheeks, wiping his tears best you could his milky white eyes wide.

“Yeah, it’s me. I’m he-” axis kissed your lips after that, his kissing turning sloppy and desperate as he continued to sob. “D-don’t do that ever again! Don’t you know I’ll die without you!” He whined out, now peppering kisses along your face with a shaky breathing. “Oh axis baby..” you cooed out trying to steady his breathing before he caught a heart attack.

Axis showed you all the paintings he did while you were away, hundreds of paintings that were portraits of you, then there were the ones that were destroyed clearly from a moment of rage. “What are these ripped ones?” You asked softly making him whine as he nervously fiddled with his walking stick “for a while I couldn’t picture your face in my head, it’s like..it was all cloudy and muddy no matter how much I tried I couldn’t do it” he said in a hushed ashamed voice.

“Oh it’s okay! It’s been a while” you reassured him, giggling at the sight of him peeking up. For the rest of the day axis followed you around and even when it was time for bed he hugged you close burying his face in your chest “um, h-hey..?“ he said softly as he moved his face from your chest.

“Yeah?”

“If you ever leave like that again..” axis started before he slowly moved himself ontop of you, milky eyes looking even more dead and lifeless as usual. “I’ll kill myself, and it will be all your fault…” he whispers lowly, hearing your surprised yet fearful gasp before he buried his face in your chest once more while remaining ontop of you “but it’s okay cause you won’t ever do that ever again!” He purred out with a laugh.

Rocket:

“Darlin’!” You heard a southern accent called out and it wasn’t long til you had the beefy 6’3 blonde standing infront of you before he snatched you into his arms. “I missed ya so much!” He cheered out. You hugged best you could though he was crushing you “r-rocket…need…air” you wheezed out only for him to gasp and let you go “oh honeysuckle I’m so sorry, I just missed my pretty lil flower” he said with a bubbly smile. Rocket was just much as a golden retriever as you remembered.

“Did you get taller?” You teased out the comment making him grin widely “did I? Hehe! I’ve been working hard for you so maybe my hard work made me taller?! Oh honey, you’ve gotta see the farm now it’s twice as big since when you left! We got more animals! We got pigs now! They are so cute and fat” as rocket was ranting he was only getting louder and louder, shaking his hands up and down as the grin on his face grew so wide you swore it was going to get stuck like that.

“Rocket babe, calm down okay?” You teased making him pout “but I missed you! Ooh now that you’re back you gotta catch up! We can do morning work outs again! Going to the gym isn’t the same without you there, like what’s the point of deadlifting 700 if you aren’t there to praise me..” he mumbled before he started to pout

“We’ve been standing here and you still didn’t do it..” rocket grumbled under his breath now practically sulking. You knew exactly what he wanted but you wanted to tease just a bit so you tilted you head to the side innocently “do what?” You asked, immediately regretting it since his puppy dog eyes were so intense it made you wanna cry. “Don’t you wanna kiss me? Do I smell bad? I made sure to shower before I got here so I wouldn’t smell like the barn, darling..please” rocket begged as he slouched down practically curled up from the sorrow.

Being unable to take it anymore you wrapped your arms around rocket and gave him a kiss, the action immediately making him get excited once more as he hugged you close and kissed you back with a happy laughing. “Mmm you taste even better than that steak I ate for lunch” he cooed out as he hugged you while repeatedly kissing your cheek over and over adoring your laugh.

“R-rocket!” You wheezed you from laughter. “Ah right we should go I can always kiss you on the way there!” He chimed out. Once home rocket showed you all the new animals as well as your horse that he bought for you so you two can go on rides together.

The best part of the day had to be curling up with rocket as he hugged you right in his arms talking about how much he missed you and hopes you don’t ever have to leave again.

Taro:

Taro, a man who usually hates physical contact couldn’t help but hug you when you two met up. His face was so red you swore he was going to explode. “Oh my is the ace detective..crying?” You teased making him pull back, covering his face.

“I missed you..so much” he said softly before peeking from behind his fingers to look at you, his eyes filled with tears. Taro was so level headed you never expected this reaction from him. “I missed you too” you said softly as you kissed the back of his hand, his face going redder.

“Arrested..” he mumbled out with a slight pout in his voice. “Huh?” You questioned , not expecting him to repeat it. “You’re on house arrest, you are not allowed to leave the house for an entire month” he huffed out before hugging you once more, clearly silently pouting.

“Taro, come on..” you said with a smirk making him sniffle softly “I don’t make deals with criminals” he grumbled out, his childish behavior surprising you but then again it has been about a year.

“Can’t you spare me, detective? I’ll give you a kiss” You cooed out, wrapping your arms around his neck. Taro looked at you and gulped before nodding softly, leaning in and giving you a gentle kiss which turned into two then three.

Before a full make out was about to happen taro pulled back and the look of joy on your face made him back up about two feet, face red as ever before he covered his mouth with his hand “we..a-are going h-home.” He stammered out shyly.

On the way home he filled you in on juicy cases he solved and even the one he was working on currently, you always loves to hear about the interesting things he was working on.

The house was as neat as ever, not a speck out of place which was exact how taro was. The only messy thing was the trash can filled with empty cans of energy drinks, you immediately glared at the male who glanced away.

“You can not prove that those are mine” he said firmly though the more you glared the more nervous he got, apparently taro hasn’t had a decent good night rest since you left so the first thing you two did was take a long steamy shower to make up for lost time and go straight to bed where taro hugged you close, body relaxing as he had you in his arms and for the first time in a year he slept so peaceful.

Altor:

Altor hugged you tightly, spinning you around. “You crazy thing! I missed you too damn much!” He snapped with a chuckle as he set you down and kissed your cheek. “I missed you too” you chimed out as you reached up and touched his cheek noticing the bandaid. Before you can ask he glanced away “rowdy client, normal stuff don’t worry bout it” he reassured you gently.

“still getting into fights as always” you scolded lightly making him scoff “oi, I was your therapist don’t test me brat” he teased with a smirk. “How’ve you been though, that adorable brain of yours still healthy and thriving?” He asked making you scoff jokingly but by his gaze it was clear he was worried about your mental health.

“It’s…been rough” you cooed out softly, your sadness making him hug you close “dumb question, of course it has” he mumbled out with a heavy sigh. “Alright, let’s get you home. I’ll run you a bath to help you settle” he said lovingly.

Just as promised altor ran you a bath and even cooked your favorite food for dinner, after that you two had a deep conversation over some wine. He always knew the right questions to ask in order to make you spill your feelings.

“You need to stop being hard on yourself how many times have I told you that?” He scolded out as he filled up your wine glass, his glare on you softened once he saw how shaken up you were, it has been a year and as much as he would love to get on your case for neglecting your mental health he knew you needed your boyfriend and not your therapist.

Altor sighs as he took a sip of wine before pulling you into his lap holding you close to his chest. “I missed you so much yknow, things aren’t the same without you bugging me” he teased as he kisses your neck softly.

“I missed you too” you cooed out with a smile before glancing back at him, altor softly flicked your forehead “then don’t leave anymore, or at least.. take me with you next time”

Salem:

Salem was absolutely thrilled to see your face he couldn’t help but pounce you right there, tackling you to the ground and straddling you while kissing all over your face with high pitched squeals and laughter coming from him.

“S-Salem!” You gasped out as he kissed your neck immediately about to rip your shirt open to find more areas to kiss you but he paused and took a good look at you. Your flustered expression was way too cute, Salem leaned forward trailing his tongue up your cheek with a large smile.

“Uwa~ miiiinnneee~” he slurred out with a squeal of pure joy as he buried his face in your chest nipping at your skin through your shirt. “S-salem, as much as I would love to have this moment can’t we not do this in an airport floor” you said in a panicked tone now looking at all the people watching you two with horror.

“Blehhh~” salem responded back with an annoyed huff but he moved off you now helping you up taking that opportunity to trail his tongue along the palm of your hand, in his own strange way he was saying he missed you a lot.

“Hi salem, did you miss me?” You asked out, his eyes sparkling as he nodded eagerly before he started to gather up saliva in his mouth by swishing it around. You quickly retracted your hand before he spit on it, something he tended to do when he was really excited.

“I-I missed you too but maybe we should head home before you do something that would land you in jai for public indecency” you cooed out softly. On the way home salem had made it his goal to show you how much he missed you by not only stripping to his underwear but touching himself the entire way there.

“S-Salem! It’s cold outside at least out a jacket on before you get out the car” you stammered out, his huff as a response making you sigh. The sigh you gave made salem pause before he started to silently get dressed.

The worry of your house being destroyed was thankfully not something to worry about if anything it looked like salem had kept pretty good habits of cleaning the house. “Woah good job salem” you praised until you noticed the bizarre amount of holes on the couch. After a few moments of silence you looked at salem who innocently grinned at you “…salem what did you do to our couch?” You asked softly, immediately getting your answer when he thrusted the air with an excited giggling.

“Cool..so we are throwing that one away” you mumbled out with a shudder. You expected this behavior from salem this was normal if anything you were proud of him that he wasn’t depraved enough to Fuck a loaf of bread like he did last time.

“What do you wanna do now salem?” You asked out curiously only for him to wrap his arms around you “baff!” He chimed out meaning to say the word bath. After running the hot water and stripping you noticed salem was a lot calmer in the bath, sure he was still pressing his boner against you but he was doing loving things like stroking your arm or burying his face in you.

After a bath Salem immediately went straight to wanting to be intimate quickly pinning you down on the best with lust in his eyes. You definitely weren’t leaving that area for a while

Tiago:

The tall male was almost stunned, tensed up when he felt you hug him and after a few moments he hugged you close with a shaky breath “ is this a dream?” He whispers out lowly. Once he let you go he got a good look at you, cupping your cheek and kissing your forehead. “I missed you. So much” he said softly, still just as bad at expressing his emotions as always.

“How’s the shop?” You asked before he blushed and glanced away. After a few moments of silence he spoke, his low voice rumbling as he did. “I made a hybrid flower in your honor, I don’t want to sell them to anyone no matter how much they ask” he mumbled out.

“Can I see it?” You asked excitedly your excitement making Tiago smile. He took you to the shop greenhouse, there was a bed of sunflowers, they were a bright and beautiful red color that glimmered in the light. You reached out touching the flowers in awe.

“I wanted you to see them, they represent my love for you, my beautiful sunflower” he whispers as he stood behind you now hugging you from behind. “ they’re so beautiful “ you chimed out your praise making him blush and smile “all for you” he cooed out lovingly.

Tiago spent the rest of the day spoiling you with affection, never letting you leave his side as he heard you talk about what Exactly you did while you two were separated.

As you ranted Tiago made sure to listen, he loved to hear you talk about things you like so this to him was perfect. He had you in his lap with his hands hugging you close as he made sure to respond every now and then to let you know that he was paying attention.

[peanut-in-the-goal]

characters belong to @lumosinlove

Logan and Finn had been together for years. Still, neither of them were happy. Not as happy as they used to be. Some nights it felt like old times, when everything was new and fresh, that honeymoon period of their relationship back at Harvard.

The soft smiles and quiet laughter. The way their hands brushed together when they walked. They went on car rides, one of their favorite pastimes from when they wore the crimson colors that they had grown to love. Finn remembers what it was like those days. He and Logan were young and immature, in for it for the fun, only serious about the game.

They had a good rhythm about it. Any drama or arguments they left off the ice. The ice was their home, it always had been since they were young, at different rinks, in different cities. It was familiar, smooth, something that was reliable to not change too much.

The lines on the ice were recognizable anywhere, marking their territory. There was something about the adrenaline that raced through them when they stood on the ice, that feeling of carrying the puck at your stick and gliding along the ice.

It was magical. Something that you couldn’t forget no matter how long it’s been.

But Harvard was a long time ago, years ago. Some days it felt like they were treading on thin ice around each other, doing everything they could so the other wouldn’t just leave.

The love was still there, but it was fraying between them, like a blanket that was being ripped apart at the seams. It ripped slowly but they were never complete without the other half. No matter how hard they wanted it, this relationship wouldn’t save itself, the two of them were willing to put in the work, but even that couldn’t save them. They were losing each other.

Everything was tense and stressful, Finn couldn’t take it. He loved Logan, he knew he always would, but he couldn’t do this anymore. They couldn’t play this game anymore, acting like everything was fine when it so clearly wasn’t. He couldn’t bear to watch Logan slip away without trying to pull him back in.

But he had tried that already, hadn’t he? He wasn’t willing to go along with this anymore and work and work and work to fix things when Logan didn’t seem to care.

He wanted out. So he was going to call it off. He couldn’t put himself through this anymore, waking up and seeing Logan curled up on the other side of the bed when he used to be so close.

He was so tired of saying things were alright when they so clearly weren’t. So as much as it pained him to say it, it was over. It hurt to love someone who made no show of loving him back.

That plan didn’t last very long.

Finn had been trying to find the right time to tell Logan, the days seemed to just drag on. Soon days were becoming weeks. He was starting to second guess himself, so either do it now or do it never.

He chose the former.

Finn decided to just tell him, choke down his nerves and tell Logan that this wasn’t working out. He swallowed, clearing his throat to get Logan’s attention.

“Logan, um. I—” He stammered, before inwardly groaning at being cut off. That might’ve been a good thing.

The door swung open, coach walked in with this tall blonde following behind him. Finn inwardly made a mental note to befriend this dude. Sirius walked forward immediately, shaking his hand. The two exchanged words, but Finn wasn’t listening, too busy looking him over.

Coach’s hand was resting on his shoulder protectively as the kid got his first look at his teammates. His eyes brightened up when they landed on Finn and Logan. Finn noticed his hand go to his left wrist, tugging at his sleeve there a little, pulling it further down to cover his wrists. The outline of a bracelet was visible through the cuffed sleeves.

Finn tried to gather his words and think of a more private place to talk to Logan but had to shake the thoughts from his head when Dumo steered the blue-eyed kid towards them. When had Dumo taken the coach's spot in showing the new rookie around?

He throws on a smile, extending his hand before he can even reach them.

“Mon fils,” Dumo smiles, clapping the kid—who Finn has realized is really fucking tall— on the shoulder. “This is Leo,” he pronounces proudly.

Leo’s shy at first, he shares a timid little smile where his dimples make an appearance. Finn thinks that it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen.

He catches the fond look that’s already gleaming in Logan’s eyes. Maybe, just maybe, things were knitting back together slowly.

Maybe Leo would help them in more ways than one.

—

Leo was around more in the weeks that passed. The weeks quickly turned into months, and the three were practically inseparable on and off the ice.

The rest of the team saw it too. Finn and Logan were obviously happier than they’ve been in a long time. Logan laughed more, his guarded eyes that they were used to seeing all the time were finally coming down. Finn smiled again, he hadn’t done that in such a long time. Sure, he smiled for the camera and the team, but something was always off about it, forced even.

Now it wasn’t. Now his smile was the way it was when he first joined. Free. He wasn’t worried about anything or anyone, it was just him, Logan, and the team.

But now it wasn’t just them. Now there was Leo. With his baby blue eyes that could light up anyone’s day just looking at him. The boy seemed so innocent from the moment they met him. He had looked around the locker room in awe like he couldn’t believe that he had actually made it here.

That one of the dreams he worked so hard to achieve was actually successful in the end.

Dumo had practically adopted Leo as he had with Cap. Like he would have with Logan had he lived with the Dumais’ and not Finn. Although Pascal has practically adopted everyone on the team as one of his own didn’t he?

-

There was still tension between Finn and Logan, especially when they lived alone in the same apartment. They had Leo over as much as they could, but he could only be there so long before going back to Dumo’s.

The peace couldn’t hold forever, something was bound to happen and one of them was bound to snap.

Leo just wished he wasn’t there to hear it.

On his way to their small apartment, he heard the yelling. It was loud, it was mean. It was hurtful.

Leo knew that Logan and Finn didn’t have the best relationship when he joined the team. That was easy to pick up immediately. He just never thought that he would be the reason for their misery.

When he heard the yelling he didn’t expect his voice to come out of their mouths, his name was spoken like it was acid on their tongues. He wasn’t even there, he didn’t do anything, so why was he the one who was being blamed.

The yelling didn’t silence when he turned the key in the lock. If anything Logan and Finn didn’t even spare him a glance, like he wasn’t even there. They probably didn’t even notice he was there to be honest.

It was like the fraying thread finally snapped.

Logan was red in the face, yellingand hurling insults that he’d regret a few hours from now. But at the moment he was too driven by rage and insecurity to protect, protect, protect. Anything hurtful thrown at him, he’d have to throw back something worse.

Finn’s face was blotchy, tears of frustration rolling down his cheeks. His hands waved around in front of him, trying to convey the words he was too choked up to say.

The room was full of nothing but harsh breathing for a moment, neither having anything to say to the other. Their eyes bored into each other across the room.

Leo let the door slam shut behind him.

Logan and Finn both startled, turning to stare at him standing in the entryway.

The fight seemed to drain out of both of them at once. Logan’s shoulders drooped and he turned to look away from both of them. Finn stubbornly rubbed the tears from his eyes with the palms of his hands.

“What the fuck?”

There was a beat of silence, no one said anything and Leo didn’t think he was going to receive a response. He was going to follow up on his question, asking what happened, why his name was getting thrown around and-

“I’m sorry…” Logan sounded small, like he was the one crying and not Finn.

Any questions Leo had were stored away for later.

“It was bound to happen.”

Suddenly Leo felt like he was intruding. They invited him over but he wasn't sure if he should be there, not when they were having a moment. Not when it looked like they may be finally healing.

“It’s not going to work out,” Finn continued. “This,” he gestures between the three of them, “isn’t going to work if me and you didnt work, Lo.”

Maybe not, Leo thought.

“I know.”

It was true, Leo knew. The two of them had had a rocky relationship since he joined the team.

But Leo thought he could make a difference, he thought he was enough to try and save their relationship.

He also loved them, he wanted this, he wanted to fight for them. He wanted them to stay.

But he also can’t be the only one who wants this to work, they all need to put in work for this relationship. He can’t be the only one pulling his weight.

Sometimes it’s better to save your breath. That’s what his father told him when he was younger and had just lost a friend dude to a silly argument. Some people are better to let go, they’ll hold you back and won’t make you happy. Always choose to be happy Leo, make the decision of fighting and giving up. Because giving up does not make you weak, some of the strongest people I know are the strongest because they gave up.

Leo really hoped he was right.

“I guess I should be going then.”

Finn and Logan nodded sadly, and Leo felt something in him break a little more. He turned and walked back out the door he came from.

Leo remembers crying on the way home. He hadn’t driven to their house, so the walk home felt like it took forever and no time at all.

[skellebonez]

SO, remember that thing you wrote a while back, about Monkey King and Mk time traveling back to the JTTW time period?

Link to said thing: https://skellebonez.tumblr.com/post/647766968590581760/18-for-present-wukong-and-mk-to-accidentally-time

THIS? RIGHT WELL, I HAVE HAD IT OPEN IN MY TABS FOR A REALLY LONG TIME AND WOULD LIKE TO GIVE YOU AN OPENING TO CONTINUE WITH IT IF YOU'D LIKE: PROMPTS 34 and 41

So. Time travel is funky. This is set post-Special, immediately pre-season 2. But has spoilers for events up to S2E7. For reasons. Side bar: sometimes time travel comes with some fun side effects. Fun for the viewer. Less fun for the people experiencing them.

Truth be told, I forgot they were even here./Can you teach me how to do that?

"Won't this cause some kind of... I-I dunno, time paradox?" MK asked in a harsh whisper as they followed the traveling group at the back of the line. "Or is this gonna be some kind of 'you changed one thing and now two timelines exist' kind of deal?"

"I genuinely have no idea," Wukong said with a sigh, digging at the uncomfortable but familiar feeling in his ear and trying to keep his voice down as much as possible. He was honestly surprised that it had taken MK this long to ask this particular question, but then again... they had other things to worry about. "I don't remember this, but that may not even matter. I've around for centuries, Bud, but even I have no idea how thing works for us."

"That is not a comforting sentence."

It had been a little over two days since the mentor and student had found themselves thrown backwards in time a few centuries away from home. And Sun Wukong could tell that MK was starting to get more and more frustrated as time had gone on. To be fair, they had made little progress. And there was... another reason... multiple other reasons. But most importantly, there wasn't exactly a power source they could plug the machine into that would give them enough juice to send them home, at least not unless they chance by a demon with lightning powers that Wukong didn't remember. No, instead they had to wait until they hit a storm.

One that was more than another two days walk away.

The young man did his best to not let it show, however. Most likely because of who they were traveling with.

His younger self lead the group, pointedly not looking back at them and keeping a watchful eye for demons that the elder Wukong knew would not come. He dared not bring this knowledge up, though, not knowing if MK had a point about that paradox. He didn't seem to trust the completely, but there was someone else he trusted.

Behind him was his former Master. The monk Tripitaka, Tang Sanzang himself, on the back of the horse formed dragon Bai Long Ma. Bai Long Ma had said nothing, as they were wont to do, and seemed to mostly ignore the two of them unless they were loud. Mast- Sanzang. He had insisted that the elder Wukong and MK call him Sanzang. Probably to help differentiate who was speaking to him if he could not see the two immortal monkeys, and also because MK kept trying to figure out which title to use for the monk and he took pity on him. Sanzang, after a hour's long explanation and from proof via MK's phone and knowledge of past adventures none should know of (and one very interesting game of staff trading between the two monkeys for a moment where the younger Wukong realized it was indeed the same staff).

Sanzang had not mentioned his crying when they met. Neither had his younger self. Or MK.

Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing took up the rear. Wujing had not said much to the two of them, but he was nice enough. Suspicious of them, but nice. He put more faith in Sanzang and younger Wukong (perhaps he should call him something else in his head) than his companion.

Bajie didn't trust them as far as he could throw them, that was clear from the way he kept glancing back at the duo with daggers in his eyes. He was immediately unhappy with their new travel companions and... Wukong realized with a sad jolt that he actually missed that. At the time he only found Bajie's contrary nature to his own to be frustrating but now... now he hadn't heard that in 500 years and he could see that while it may have been misguided at times (many times) it was born of a sense of self preservation and a want to protest Sanzang.

Even if he contradicted himself at times as well.

"You two doing ok back there, older me and Kid?" Younger Wukong called back suddenly.

"Yup, just. Hanging." MK yelled back, tone as terse and done as it had been for the last day. "Not like I can do anything else." The second bit was muttered under his breathe, most likely in the hopes even his mentor couldn't hear him. He was wrong.

Wukong felt... bad. Because he was the primary source of this rotten mood.

The staff digging into his ear for the first time in centuries was a reminder of that. An agreement between himself and his student to not bring up any undue suspicion and questions that would take time they may not have to get back home. They'd agreed that the group would also call him Kid, since MK wasn't as fond of the others calling him Bud for some reason, and the name was just... a smidgen to close to Monkey King to not raise similar questions. It was also a reminder that Wukong had let slip in a follow up conversation, away from prying ears, about why this may or may not be really necessary that he had planned to leave the next day in present time.

MK hadn't been happy since. Not with him at least.

"Bajie, remember to ask them how they are doing from time to time. Please?" Sanzang insisted in front of them.

"Truth be told, I forgot they were even here," Bajie lied.

~

Bajie glowered down at Wukong, throwing the fruit and wrapped rice packages in his general direction and not caring whether he caught it or not. There was a soft and disappointed cry of his name from Sanzang from the other side of the camp.

"Master and the stupid Monkey may trust you," he snorted, ignoring the call and looking between Wukong and MK. "But I don't. If you even so much as set one little toe out of like I will re-"

"Rend our souls asunder with your mighty 9 Toothed Rake, yeah," MK sighed as he used some of the water from his cup to wash the berries thrown at him. "You're Zhu Ganglie, Zhu Bajie, Tiānpéng Yuánshuài, commander-in-chief of 80,000 Heavenly Navy Soldiers. You will kick our asses. We know."

For a whole second Zhu Bajie looked genuinely surprised and... kind of impressed.

Then he scoffed again and made his way back to the group of five and watched them from the edges of his vision with less suspicion and more curiosity than before.

"Mei was right when she said he was kind of like Pigsy," MK noted, popping a berry into his mouth.

"When was that?" Wukong asked, doing much the same.

His student froze, looking down at his hands for a moment as if trying to remember something. "... not important. Let's just eat and get some rest, like Sanzang told us to."

It didn't take a Great Sage to realize something was wrong.

Wukong said nothing.

~

"Kid, we told you to stay back with Master!" Wujing shouted as MK peaked his head around the rock he and the monk were taking shelter behind.

"I know!" MK snapped, growling as he ducked back down and presumably curled in on himself. "ARGH I feel useless!"

Wukong winced at his tone, feeling bad. MK wasn't useless, to be fair, but without his staff and no backup weapons he was fighting up a creek without a paddle as it were.

"You're not useless, and you're protecting Tripitaka!" He shouted, letting out a yelp as he narrowly avoided a hit from a demon that should not even be here. Or, some kind of time anomaly mockery of a large demon. An enormous smoke or shadow creature that was far too familiar for his own liking. Not the same, something possibly cobbled together from time itself.

"Wow, uh, future me you're not doing so hot!" Younger Wukong said with a raise of his eyebrow as he blocked a strike with much more ease. "Aren't I supposed to get better with age? Like a handsome fine wine?"

"I'm a bit RUSTY ok!?" He snapped, slicing off one of the shadow creature's cloth tassels to watch it flicker away. "Haven't been many demons to fight!"

He heard a scoff from behind the rock before he felt the giant fist punch him into it. And through it. A Wukong sized hole between student and old master. He realized too late that he had lost his grip on his staff as it flew into the air above them.

"Alright, that's enough!"MK shouted, and before Wukong could even move to stop him the Monkie Kid had jumped into the rock and reached up.

"KID DO YOU HAVE A DEATH WISH!?" Bajie shouted in horror as he made to rush back and tackle him out of the way. He hadn't moved fast enough either.

None of them had, before MK caught the staff as if it was as light as a feather and twirled it around himself before extending it and launching himself at the shadow creature with a scream of rage and frustration and landing what would have been the killing blow had it not clearly been something not living in the first place.

It dissipated much as the piece cut off before it did, leaving MK to... give a confused yelp and fall into a heap on the ground. The staff fell to his side as he clutched his head and yelled in pain from a source Wukong could not see.

"Kid!" Wukong screamed, moving faster than he had during the entire fight to his student's side. "Kid, shit, MK! What happened?"

"MK?" Sanzang and his younger self asked softly in tandem as Wujing and Bajie watched on, all moving closer. But not too close, giving the two room to move.

MK didn't answer. He sat up, holding his head in his hands as he breathed deeply and tried to keep from screaming again before everything just... stopped.

His sat on his knees, hand hanging limply at his sides as his true sight shone in his eyes and he looked on forward blankly.

"What's... who is he?" Younger Wukong asked slowly as he turned to his older self. "What is he?"

"The Hero and the Warrior were like the Sun and the Moon..." MK muttered softly all of a sudden, just loud enough for the group surrounding him. His voice was slurred, almost like he was in a trance. "Their light a protective glow shining upon the world..."

"MK, where did you-" Wukong tried to ask instead of answering his younger self as he slowly stepped forward, cautiously, but MK continued on as if he had not heard him at all.

"Together there was nothing that could stop the two of them. Either in the Celestial Realms... or on Earth. As time went on, the Hero attained power beyond comprehension. As the Hero's light grew so too did his shadow and soon the Warrior was cast in that shadow. In the darkness, the Warrior was forgotten by the Hero..."

MK immediately slumped forward as he fell unconscious.

"MK!"

~

"His name is MK... and he's the Monkie Kid... My successor," Wukong finished as he laid a fresh cold wet cloth over his student's forehead. After he had collapsed it became obvious something was seriously wrong with MK, high fever burning him up quickly. They were only just close enough to a town for him to grab him and the staff and rush off with barely a shouted back explanation of "find us at the inn" to the rest of their group. "We thought that... keeping that a secret might prevent any kind of... weird time travel... stuff."

Wukong sighed. His explanation was weak even to his own ears. Excuses. Ways to make things easier for him.

He felt worse than he had just the day before.

His student laid unconscious still, fever burning even after the medicine from the town doctor had been given to him with water carefully. The only thing Wukong could think of was the staff. MK wasn't invincible like he was, maybe contact with it had caused a reaction from the time travel that couldn't affect the immortal.

"Why would you need a successor, Wukong?" Sanzang asked after they sat in silence for a moment.

Bajie handed Wukong the mortar and pestle he had been working with to prepare more medicine, something to add to tea when MK woke up. The pig demon had not questioned him once since they arrived, only grabbed what Wukong was trying to mix poorly himself and listened.

Bai Long Ma had changed into a human form, one he had rarely seen, and sat beside Wujing. They both also listened.

His younger self looked at MK in a mix of wonder and confusion and horror and Wukong could not blame him. The idea of a successor... he must have known himself what that meant even if no one else did.

"I hope I don't have to tell you," he said softly. He didn't look away from MK, even as Sanzang laid a comforting hand on his back. "And I don't want to risk what telling you might do..."

No one questioned him after that.

When Bajie prepared the next bowl of medicine for MK, Wukong took a chance he never had with the demon he once considered like his brother.

"Can you teach me how to do that? Properly?"

Bajie did.

~

"Monkey King?" Came the hoarse rasp of MK's voice ringing through the room, and Wukong shot up from where he was watching the stars in an instant.

"I'm here, MK," He said softly, still soft, not wanting to hurt his student in case hie head ached. "How do you feel?"

"Dead, but only from the neck up," MK groaned out, and Wukong let out a relieved sigh. He wasn't sick enough to not joke around at least. "Where are we?"

"The town we need to be in," Wukong answered, quickly working on adding the medicine into some now (sadly) cold tea. He had hoped MK would wake much sooner. "Storm is tonight... you've been asleep for a whole day. Hopefully getting you home with this medicine in you will make you feel better, you uh... you weren't doing so great before-"

"What happened to Macaque?" MK asked suddenly, looking for all the world like he had no idea why he would even ask that question to begin with. "Not the battle your younger you had. Before that. In the story. Sun and Moon. Please, I... I want to know. Just... just tell me something, for once."

Wukong froze, fur bristling and stiff and this was not the conversation he wanted to have with his student right now. This is not the conversation he should be able to physically have with his student right now because MK should have no way of knowing anything like this at all. But he had. He'd recited the story he'd heard before word for word from... Macaque.

This was not the time for easy outs. Not anymore.

"I've made a lot of mistake, MK," He started, lifting his student's head onto his lap to help him sit up for the drink. "And a lot of them are ones I didn't think you would have to know about. But Macaque... it's complicated, I know that now. I didn't back then."

MK sipped the tea but said nothing, only made a face at the taste of the medicine.

"We were friends, once. Back on Mount Huaguo before I went to the Celestial Realm, he became immortal in... other ways to my own. I was trapped for 500 years under a mountain without him, no one came to see me so... I guess he was never able to find me. Or he waited thinking I would eventually come back," Wukong tried not to think about how that meant he could have had trust in his friend and not for other reasons he had assumed for so long. "You know the story of the White Bone Spirit from our journey? How Bajie got me banished?"

Wukong couldn't help but chuckle. Oh, he'd been so mad at Bajie for so long for that. He still was, in many ways. But given what happened to him later on in the journey Wukong couldn't hold a grudge.

"Yeah you-" MK coughed a little, probably from not talking for a whole day and a sore throat. "You went back to Mount Huaguo."

"And to Macaque," Wukong continued. "For the first time in 500 years."

"I bet he was angry."

"No..." Wukong disagreed, shaking his head and thinking back. "No, he... wasn't. Not at first. He was ecstatic I came back. The Hero and Warrior of Mount Huaguo back together again, just like old times. But it wasn't like old times. I was already different, I knew how I treated others including the monkeys on my mountain hadn't been the best. And when Bajie came to bring me back... I couldn't help but wanting to leave back to the journey. Part of it was to get the fillet off, but part of it was because... I realized I cared for the others. I wanted to see the journey through with them."

"Macaque thought you were abandoning him," MK said after a moment, eyes widening. "That's why he took on your identity. He wanted... revenge? For you to have no reason to leave again?"

"I think he just wanted what we used to have," Wukong said with a frown. "I've been running from him for so long... over another 500 years. I've made so many mistakes in my life MK, but I think not trying to get him to come with us or trying to properly explain what I was doing... may have been the worst."

"... The warrior was never forgotten by the Hero after all," MK said softly before drifting back to sleep.

"No," Wukong agreed, though he knew he was not heard. "No, the Hero never forgot. The Hero never will, not completely. Even if it hurts."

~

The storm came on schedule. The machine was charged.

Over the day they came back their memories of the trip back in time faded into a distant thought, one that both mentor and student soon forgot to fear the loss of.

By the next day they had forgotten. Time had fixed itself.

But not completely.

The Hero never forgot completely, after all. There was something telling him in the back of his mind to check more on his student. He remembered a hand on his back that should not have been there. He knew how to mix something he never had before.

Neither did the Warrior, uninvolved in this adventure as he may be. He had plans.

And the one between them, with no title to himself, didn't completely forget either. He recalled feeling warm and safe. His head was on someone's lap. There were berries and someone not unlike one of his father figures.

The memories of what happened lingered, quiet, uncalled but emotions still there.

A short time later the one between felt that a play he went to was strangely familiar to him and needed to rush out before his head began to ache in memories he didn't recall.

"So um... what happened to him? The Warrior?"

The answer was somewhere in the back of his mind. If only he could remember.

[zeldasayer]

Futile Devices — Chapter 5

A Javier Peña/Call Me By Your Name AU

gif by @pascalplease

Javier Peña x Reader

Summary: Everything has changed since your father’s book with Javier was rejected, just as you and Javier were getting close.

Warnings: SMUT — age gap (reader is of age), inexperienced!reader themes, gagging, praise (use of “little girl”), vocal Javi, squirting. Angst. 18+

Masterlist | Chapter 4

——

Vita Murphy was born on April 9th 1963 in Milan, Italy to American architects Connie and Steve Murphy, who met your mother by chance one afternoon at a market in town. Taking a liking to Connie, Daisy invited her and her husband to one of their legendary parties. Your mother and father loved to entertain and invite interesting people into their home for cocktails and Daisy's delicious cooking. Your parents celebrated every holiday, birthday, or life event they could think of, any excuse to dress up, string lights through the fruit trees in the back yard and drink in excess to your father's extensive record collection. As a child, you missed most of the parties, having been put to bed just as they were taking off, but when Connie and Steve arrived to your mother's 35th birthday after meeting in the market, and saw you sitting alone at your piano, Connie knew that next time she would bring her daughter.

Even at 13 you felt the pull that Vita had. You watched as she floated around your home, seeming even more comfortable in it than you were, stealing sips of wine and hors d'oeuvres before noticing you and asking if you had ever had your tarot cards read.

"It's my favourite game." You spat out nervously unaware.

Vita just smiled with a nod, "Yeah. Mine, too."

And from then on, you were inseparable.

"She didn't cry, she sang!" Connie always said about her daughter's birth. "It was the happiest day of my life."

Made in her mother's stunning image, Vita had the most incredible large eyes and long blonde hair she cut only once a year. Connie knew at a young age that her daughter was special, as a believer in the universe and the infinite lives a person could have, she knew her daughter was an old soul put on Earth to love and protect the new souls, the tired souls, those who were born somewhere and didn't know why they were born there. She knew it would be quite the burden for one girl, but she saw it quickly in her daughter that it was what she was meant to do. A healer, a listener, someone who understood what many feared no one ever could. Vita attracted those who needed her, and in that, unfortunately led to a large turnover in friendships. Vita was used to strong, short bursts of complete female unity, where she loved you undyingly and provided the support that you needed to pass through a difficult period of your life. But not with you, there was no passing through with you. Not even during your extended stays in the United States or even now that you are gone most of the year in college, could your friendship be weakened.

"It's because you were siblings!" Connie exclaimed in a tipsy state on a summer night long ago. "In another life."

"Do you think?" Vita asked, turning to you.

You believed in Vita and her mother's cosmic knowing, and relied on it more than you were willing to admit. "Of course."

"You were brother and sister." Connie said before taking a sip of her wine, and going quiet.

She always goes quiet — one moment she will tell you how your whole life is going to be and the next, just as she's about to get into the details, she switches off without any explanation, claiming she "doesn't really know this stuff, anyway."

It always makes Vita roll her eyes, because she knows that's not the case for she is just like her mother. Vita saw everything and found people she couldn't read extremely frustrating. Vita has this otherworldly understanding of people and a patience unmatched by anyone you have ever met. She knows how devastating it can be to be seen, but how crucial in life it is to not only be understood, but accepted. Vita also knew how often you spent up in your head, in your make believe world where nothing could hurt you. How your lust for life was so consuming it left you unable to move, too afraid to start because it always felt like you were doing it on your own. Your best friend once told you with tears in her eyes that she wished she knew what planet you were from so you would have the peace of mind that you weren’t completely alone, and you thanked her because sometimes that is enough.

Vita is the human embodiment of home.

So why can't you tell her what is going on? Why does your throat close up every time you want to talk about Javier in any capacity? Why does your throat close up when you think about Javier at all? A part of you wants to run barefoot straight to Vita’s house and up to her room, beg her to help you understand your own emotions. Why are you so enamored by a man who always makes it so hard to breathe? How he manages to make you so hyper aware of your movements, yet he isn't even looking at you. How he's never there when you want him but you would drop everything to be close to him once more. You would drop everything just to be what he wanted again and it makes you sick to your stomach. It's like watching yourself at 15 all over again, when you believed the most important thing you could be was desired. Hell is the mind of a fifteen year old girl, and you thought those days were gone forever.

The tension in the house doesn't make it any easier. You and Daisy tiptoeing around your father and house guest. The quiet meals, that used to be your favourite parts of the day now leave you cold even in the relentless summer sun. You spend most of the time, sitting across from Javier, staring at him. Waiting for him to look at you so you can ask him what's wrong with your eyes. To let him know that he can come to you, that you want him to. But he never does.

Christian and Javier lock themselves away in the library most days and your mother tells you they still haven't come up with anything new. You're startled every night when you're woken by their raised voices traveling through the halls and you hold your breath until you hear their roaring laughter and you know they must be drunk.

You don't see Javier much these days, but you don't see anyone for that matter. Resorting to lazy floats in the pool by yourself or reading alone in the cool living room to escape the heat. It feels as though, if you can't be around Javier you can’t be around anyone at all and sometimes you can make that make sense but most of the time you ignore the irritating notion that you may really be going crazy.

But what was supposed to happen? Javier would fuck you and realize right then and there he couldn’t live without you? It’s so embarrassing because it’s true. You can't talk to Vita because you're embarrassed to admit you wanted to be more and tonight after another lonely dinner where you might as well have been eating alone — you dumped your dishes in the sink and slipped out to the back gardens for your abandoned childhood swing set. And you finally cried.

“Fuck!” You scream up at the sky and you kick your legs back.

As you create your momentum, swinging back and forth you can’t help but succumb to your own erratic emotions and you wonder why it has to be this way. Why can’t you just be happy with what you have? Why must you always need more? Why is it so goddamn exhausting to keep yourself neutral? You’ve never felt sad, only despair. Never angry, only full of rage. You’ve never been embarrassed, you only know humiliation. And you hate to think this way because you always search for your brain for a time you were truly happy, but you always come up empty.

Something is always missing. Something is always missing and you’re always alone but you can’t even be upset because you do it to yourself.

It feels like you’re taking the world on by yourself simply because you are. Because you feel like you need to, this is your burden and yours only. You must suffer to be rewarded for one day you will be able to walk in the sun and be alright.

But to what end? When will you be rewarded?

You want it to be Javier. Just being close to him feels like the reward. The energy you feel just sitting next to him, those eyes you want to swim in, the perfect angle of his nose and the voice that drips from his lips. It must be him, but he won’t even talk to you.

You spend the evening locked in this thought, the concept of the reward — you can convince yourself it isn't real but your heart aches for it knows it is the truth. Which is why Javier is so difficult. He is the one and it makes you dizzy with excitement, but you’re not sure if you can trust it. There is this pull of doubt at the corners of every thought because he still doesn’t know you. Though he could. If he just said the word, you’d spill every story, every thought, every idea you’ve ever had. How you long for more. More life. More love. More sex. More understanding. To truly be alive, not just living. Who could understand that better then him?

——

You like the way the cold ground feels under your bare feet as you walk back up to the house in the darkness. You feel lighter, now that you’ve cried and the house that sits quiet and empty is suddenly comforting. This is your life, your home. Javier is just a tourist and he should be so lucky to exist in the same space as you. But maybe this is you just channeling arrogance as to not be so sad, focusing on what he’s missing instead of your desperate need for him to actually see it.

“Claude?” You hear from the living room at the first creak of the wooden stairs.

You tiptoe through the corridor and into the living room to find Javier taming his fluffy hair with a yawn. Your jaw tightens.

“I’ve been waiting for you. I fell asleep.” He says and you just stand there, crossing your arms over your light blue summer dress. “Can you come sit?”

Shit.

“I don’t know Javi, I’m tired.” You shrug.

“Look, I just want to apologize.” He says, standing up and turning toward you, “We had sex and I haven’t spoken to you since and that’s fucked up. I’m sorry.”

Your eyes widen, but he doesn’t see because he looks down like he’s ashamed. You believe him. Gliding across the living room, you watch him in his usual ensemble — tight black t-shirt, soft cotton pants and his thick black framed glasses, and sit back down with him, on your side.

“It’s just everything with this book, I’ve never felt this kind of anxiety.” He says, his eyes cast down, resting his head on his fist propped up by the top of the couch.

You nod for you understand, but it hurt. “You didn’t even look at me this week.”

“I know.” He sighs, “I know, but I really am sorry. Please believe me when I say I’ve missed you.”

You look up at him, biting your cheek to contain your excitement.

“I miss you even while we live in the same house.” He says, looking away. His hand fidgets against his knee. “If you’re not at breakfast, or you spend your day here, reading in the living— I miss you when you aren’t around me.”

You wish there was a way to burn these words into your brain so you could have them at any time, to hear his voice say these things to you. This validation that he has felt the same after these long, horrible days of practically ignoring each other.

Bringing your hand to his cheek, you turn Javier’s gaze back to you, and study him as you feel the fine hairs of his beard under your fingertips. He looks tired, even behind his glasses you can see the deep longing for rest in his eyes. You don’t think he’s used to rejection either.

Javier leans into your touch with a soft hum and you could almost lose your breath from the tenderness. You want to hold him, bury your nose in his hair and tell him to rest with you. Just laying together, his big body between your legs and head on your stomach, until the inevitable rising of the sun. You can hardly bring yourself to imagine how beautiful Javi must look by the light of the morning.

“Come here.” You whisper, though it’s barely audible, as you rise up on your knees so you are flush against his side, looking down at him. Before you kiss him, Javier kisses you, and your hand floats down from his cheek to wrap your arms around his glorious neck.

Javi wastes no time, his one big hand dragging up your spine to squeeze the back of your neck, holding your against him. And with the other, letting his thick fingers dig into the soft flesh of your ass. You can feel the desperation in his skin, and you want all of it, this exquisite juxtaposition of feeling both safe in his arms but that he could also crush you with his desire.

What was life before this? Before Javier’s thick moans into your mouth, his heavy wet finger tips tracing. He takes up all the air in the room and you don’t stop him. He is everything.

You break off the kiss for a moment and remove his glasses. “I missed you too.”

“I’ve only touched you once, but I have spent every day thinking about you. Kissing you. Having you.” He says, pulling you impossibly closer to him. “It’s all I’ve wanted, every day.”

“Why didn’t you tell me.” You ask, and you can’t help the confused look on your face but Javier doesn’t respond. You search his face anyway longing for something heartfelt, like he was locked up in his head, consumed by his feelings for you, like you were. Instead, he kisses you again. Swallowing any upsetting feeling you’ve had since you’ve touched him last.

Kissing Javier is a soft pleasure all in its own, but you want more. More skin. More contact. To ache around him again. To show him how much you truly missed him.

“Let me take care of you.” You whisper, your palm trailing flat down the man’s chest. You get lower and lower, kissing along the beautiful exposed skin of his neck, dragging your hand down the soft black fabric until you reach the drawstring of Javi’s pants.

“Are you sure?” He asks, and you feel his body stiffen as he looks around.

You nod, pushing your legs out from underneath you so you’re laying flat on the couch, your face practically in his lap. “Just relax.”

Javier lets all the air escape from his chest as you pull on the pants and he lifts his hips so you can get them down his thighs.

He watches you with heavy eyes, his mouth falling open as you kiss up the underside of his length, hardening under your lips. Swirling your tongue around the tip, you rest your head on Javier’s lower abdomen lazily, feeling him grow even more in your hand as you stroke him.

“Shit..” He says through his teeth, smoothing your hair back out of your face for you.

You continue to take your time teasing him. Humming in delight as Javier can barely contain himself, thrusting up into your hand shamelessly. He keeps his eyes closed, hands in your hair and you can feel the relief radiating from him. He was desperate for touch.

“Oh, Javi.” You coo, as his head falls back on to the couch, fucking up into your hand and you swear you can hear him whimper. This feeling of power over Javier is absolutely intoxicating, to feel so disconnected from him all week then to have him almost pathetically trying to relieve himself with any bit of human contact you’ll allow him.

“Look what you do to me.” He growls. “Fucking your ha-and...”

Javier reaches around, taking his length from your delicate grasp and pushes you lightly into his pelvis.

“You’re so fucking — soft.” He grunts, tapping his throbbing head against your lips before dragging his cock along your face.

You smile, letting him. Revealing your tongue for a moment to tease him once more.

“Thought you wanted to take care of me.” He says, his voice tight and you feel his hand in the back of your hair as he continues to run his length along your face. Grinning as his grip tightens, he doesn’t hurt you, it’s just about the control.

“I do.” You moan, as Javi softly pushes and pulls your head in a rhythmic motion, just hovering over him.

“Open your mouth.” He mumbles and you do what you’re told.

Javier motions your neck down, pulling you slowly over him, taking just his head in your mouth. “Is this okay sweetheart?”

“Mhm.” You whimper around him, your thighs involuntarily rubbing together, searching for some kind of relief from the arousing pull of his voice.

“Yeah? F-Fuck your pretty mouth.” He grunts, thrusting up slowly, stretching your lips to accommodate his thickness. You close your eyes, focusing on the fullness, calming your breath to take him.

“Stay just like this.” Javier sighs, his other hand tangling into your hair to keep you in place and you hum in agreement. Then he thrusts — quickly like he’s actually fucking you and it comes as a surprise but the moan that drips from his mouth almost instantly is enough to make you squeeze your thighs tighter. You have never felt a high like this, being exactly what Javier wants.

You dig your finger nails into his thighs as he takes you, a blunt, bruising force to the back of the throat and you can’t help but gag.

“That’s a good girl.” He says, “Taking my dick in your hot fucking mouth. I love that sound.”

You gag once more and Javier pulls out to you gasping. Spit suspended from your mouth to his cock and you watch it for a moment before grinning up at Javi.

“You’re so fucking cute.” He shakes his head in disbelief, wiping the saliva from your mouth.

“I’ve never done that before.” You smile, looking down slightly embarrassed as you wonder if you were even any good.

“You keep saying that...” Javi’s voice trails off as he pulls your dress up to knead your behind. You love having his hands on you, playing with you. “But you’d never know...”

You try to suppress your satisfied smile, flattening your palms around the base of Javier’s shaft, you take him back in your mouth.

“Fuck...” he exhales long and slow, grabbing a rough handful of your ass before pushing you down on to him, taking him completely down your throat and keeps you there. Your eyes water, and your leg kicks out before he lets you breathe again, coming up for air with a cough you look up at him and he looks down at you like the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

——

Javier pulls you back up against his side, and he looks up at you as he’s slumped down into the couch. You wrap your arms back around his neck, fluttering your fingers through his hair and he nuzzles your chest, pressing his lips into your skin. You wish he was like this always, soft in your arms.

Javi hooks a finger into the top of your dress and pulls down, freeing your breasts, nipples hard in attention and he takes one in his mouth. Your cradle his head as he sucks on the buds and you let your own fall back slowly, relishing in the feeling of his tongue and his lips, the brushing of his moustache and the digging of his nose and how sweet he looks in your arms. This is too much, you’re going dizzy.

Javier helps you pull your dress over his head and his lips quickly return to your nipples. His big warm hands squeezing your bust harshly, alternating with his teeth scraping the sensitive flesh and completely pressing his face into your chest. Even as you climb into his lap, on top of him completely nude, his tongue doesn’t give up until you pull his face up to yours for a kiss.

He tastes like everything you want to drown in and it’s heady, like a force you must fight before it completely consumes you, but you don’t want to.

“Fuck.” You gasp, grinding your hips along Javi’s length, desperate for more.

“Oh, god.” He chokes, dropping his forehead to your shoulder. “Are you going to fuck me this time, sweetheart?”

“Yeah..” You whine, reaching between your bodies.

“Yeah? You’re gonna bounce that wet little pussy on my dick?” His voice shakes into your neck, and it’s such a contrast from his stern “Get on your bed.” from days ago.

You nod, kissing up his jaw in this sudden codependency, his need to feel every inch of you as you both fall back into the couch.

“Relax, Javi. Let me do this for you.” You coo, sinking down on to him. You hum from the incredible stretch and Javier groans right into your ear.

“That pussy is so fucking tight.” He says, out of breath. “Don’t move.”

You obey him, stilling in his lap and Javier lifts his head from the safe space between your neck and your shoulder and he looks up at you.

“What if I just held you here like this.” He says, almost to himself, his hands coming up to your ass. “Stuffed full of my dick and I didn’t let you move.”

“Javi...” You whine.

“Would you still be my good little girl?”

“Javi...” You whine louder, your chest feeling like it’s going to collapse, Javier’s fingers digging into you and he gives you two small thrusts.

“You love being my good girl, don’t you?” Javier whispers, pushing your hair behind your shoulders.

More than anything.

“Yes.” You gasp.

“I know you do.” He says, guiding you slowly up and down. “Just sucking my dick made this pussy a dripping mess.”

“I love it.” You groan as the sound of your skin against his gets louder as you work your hips for him.

Javier looks a moment away from possession and it just fuels you, for you have him where you always want him and you want this to be the death of him.

You still again, but only for a moment to steady yourself as you get up on your feet.

“Shit..” Javier sighs, before he turns you both with your arms wrapped around him, his back now against the arm rest and his legs straight out along the couch. “There you go, baby.”

You reach behind you, finding your balance with your grip on his knees and you pull your hips up.

“Oh my fucking god.” Javier gasps, running his hand down his face and you push your hips down slowly, watching him and in this moment he is really yours.

Fighting through the burning in your arms and your legs, you give him everything you’ve got. Mewing in the pleasure of seeing him underneath you like this, needing you like this. Submitting to the grinding of your hips and the wetness that aches around him. You wish you could see yourself on top of him, your chest bouncing, skin glowing in sweat so he knows exactly what he could have, whenever he wanted it.

“Your pussy is so fucking pretty.” Javier says, his thumb dragging across your mound and down to your clit, that is begging for attention and the moment his fingertip grazes the sensitive nerve your legs clamp together. But he doesn’t stop. Even as his length falls from your body from the increased height of your hips, Javier’s hand doesn’t retreat from the soft thighs it’s wedged between. Circling your clit over and over, your arms buckle and you hold your breath. You thought you had the power but even on top of him you’re just putty in his hand and he knows exactly what to do to make you sing.

“Are you going to squirt for me again?” He rasps, his other hand pushing you down into his lap. “I want to watch this pretty little pussy squirt all over me.”

“Put it back.” You gasp, trying to force your legs open.

“Yeah, baby? Do you need my dick?” Javi teases, pushing at your thigh to open up for him again. He finally eases his dizzying pressure on your clit and holds you just above his pulsing head, slick with you. Running his tip along your folds, you try to sink down on to him, but he keeps you suspended.

“Beg me.” He demands. “You know I love the way you say my fucking name.”

“Please, Javi.” You whine, grinding your hips into nothing. “Please, I love your cock so much, give it to me.”

You push yourself up and fall forward so your hands are on his chest, “Please, Javi. Make me squirt again. Only you know how to fucking do it”

“Oh, fuck.” He groans, pushing up into you sharply despite your yelp. “Anything for my good little girl.”

Javier pulls you down, flush against his chest, still clothed against your’s nude and he wraps his arms around you. He smells like amber and fresh linens as always. Summer. A sunset. The breeze off the ocean and wine. Safe.

His grip around you tightens as you inhale him, pounding up into you as he finds your ear, and his voice is like syrup, “I’m going to take care of you sweetheart. Going to make this pussy cum. You tell me okay? I want to see it. Want to see you fucking soak me. Don’t by shy, my good little girl. Give it to me.”

“Fuck, Javi.”

“You’re so fucking incredible. Taking my big dick in this perfect little pussy. Let go, Claude. Cum for me, angel.”

You groan lewdly and Javi’s hand comes down on your mouth.

“Shh. Shh. Shh.” He warns, and you sigh into his palm. Angel.

This pace is overwhelming, and as he’s restricted your limbs there really is nothing you can do but take it, trying to keep your thighs from clamping together every time Javier brushes that incredible spot within you. Your moans getting longer, from an even deeper part of your throat every time. Your core twists and tightens as he brings you there, unlike anyone else ever has.

“Javi, now!” You exclaim, barely recognizing the screech in your voice and Javier pulls out. His lap wet with you.

“Oh that’s a good fucking girl.” He says, kissing the top of your head as you fall to his side. “That’s so fucking hot.”

Your house guest’s impressive length twitches in his hand as he strokes himself, his nose buried in your hair as you nuzzle his chest in hazy delight and he keeps whispering, “Fucking you is such a dream. You make it so hard not to just nut in that tight fucking pussy.”

You hum, lifting our head up and kissing him softly. “Cum for me.”

“Yeah?” He swallows.

“Please, Javi.” You sigh.

“Where?” He asks, stroking himself harder.

It takes all your strength, but you slip silently off the couch and on to your knees. “On my face.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.” He says, getting up quickly.

Javier takes your chin delicately in his hand, stroking himself with vigor with the other, and you display your tongue for him, feeling the weight of his cock on it instantly.

“Such a good girl, letting me cum on your pretty fucking face like this. I don’t deserve you. So fucking— pretty.” He groans, with everything left and in this moment you have him, again.

——

You wake in your bed, and you know it’s late because you’re hit by a wall of heat followed swiftly by disappointment when you realize you are, once again, alone. With your arm spread out at your side, you know you are going to be met with nothing but empty sheets and you still feel it at the pit of your stomach anyway.

You sit up with a sigh, back to normal you suppose. Another day of existing separately, but together with only your lost puppy sense of self and a fascination for this man to sustain you.

Then you see him. Javier leaning up against your balcony door with his coffee, wearing only his pyjama bottoms. He hears you stirring and looks back with a smile, “Good morning.”

——

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Love, Zelda

[xxwritemeastoryxx]

Escape Plan

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings and other Characters: Enzo St. John x Reader, Damon Salvatore

Requested:  Can I pretty please have an angsty Enzo fighting to protect reader?Against literally anything I just need to read Enzo being protective over me. -@hellotvshowtrash

Word count: 5K

Warnings: Charcter death, canon typical violence/blood and gore with detailed torture.A bit of episode rewritee. TRIGGER WARNINGS: Mentions of Rape, mentions of suicidal thoughts, and dark thoughts of death.

Author’s note: I am nervous about this one guys. Just because of the details this one contains. If you thought Out of Time hurt, this one is worse. Please read this one at your own risk. Exit the fic if at any point in time something becomes too much for you. ONLY YOU CAN MANAGE YOUR TRIGGERS. PLEASE DO NOT COME AT ME LATER FOR ANYTHING AFTER READING THIS. YOU CHOSE TO READ IT, DESPITE THE WARNINGS AND THAT IS YOUR RESPONSIBILITY. Know your limits and I wont hold it against you guys to skip this one. I’d say happy reading, but I’m not sure that will be the case with this one. 

Feedback gives me life and motivation for future fics!

Enzo sat and watched as his captor brought in another vampire into the cell next to him. For as long as Enzo had been locked away by Dr. Whitmore, he had seen plenty come in, just as he was seeing now. Not many of them survived and seeing a new face that wasn’t his beloved or even his captor’s had been refreshing.

His hand ran over his face as he watched the new comer groan after being tossed into the cell. He stopped himself from speaking, only for a moment, unsure of how to start the conversation. They were trapped there, it wasn’t going to hurt to add an acquaintance to the mix.

“Welcome.” Enzo began. He watched as the man looked over in his direction. “Dr. Whitmore never gets tired of watching us vampires heal, but he gives us one glass of blood per day, just enough to keep us alive. Pick yourself up soldier.” There was something in Enzo’s words that the man got himself up off the floor. Both of them move towards the small opening between cells. Enzo stuck his hand through the bars, offering it to the man. “My name’s Enzo.”

“Damon.” Damon said as he gave a nod of his head before looking around. “How long have you been here?”

“Ten years.” Enzo stated as he kept his eyes on Damon.

“And you haven’t tried getting out of here?” Damon questioned. He was curious as to how anyone would allow themselves to be locked in here that long without trying to fight their way out.

Enzo chuckled. “Believe me, I’ve tried several times to get out of here. But they have their ways of getting me to stay put.” He looked through the bars to see down the hall.

He had been waiting for that door to open for hours now. Some of those that worked for Whitmore  walked in there time and time again, but he was waiting for one person to come out. Even when the doors had opened up with them dragging Damon out, Enzo had hoped it had been someone else they were dragging out.

“You know someone that is in there right now.” Damon observed and Enzo nodded.

“Her name is Y/N.” His eyes never left the door. “Before I met her, I would have easily fought my way out of here and left anyone behind to save my own skin.”

“The woman that was unconscious in there.” Damon remembered seeing a woman on another table in the same room as him. While he had been screaming from the pain, she had been out through it all. Damon huffed. “How long have you known her?”

Enzo sighed at Damon’s words. He knew when Dr. Whitmore took Y/N, it was for extended periods of time. Even he was never back there that long and he hated every moment she was gone. Their experiments weren’t even close in comparison. Even now, Enzo wondered what Whitmore had planned for Y/N.

“I’ve known her for a little over fifteen years now.” Enzo nodded his head as his eyes turned back towards Damon.

“How did you two end up here?” Damon wanted to know anything he could to hopefully find a way out of there. There was no way he was just going to be used as someone’s test subject for as long as they had been. Damon didn’t have anyone holding him back like Enzo did.

“Whitmore was working at a Battlefield hospital in Europe during WWII. Y/N had been a nurse there while I was a soldier out in the very battlefield she was helping.” Enzo began.

“Let me guess,” Damon interrupted. “That’s where you met Y/N.”

Enzo chuckled, but shook his head. “No, by then I had known her for a few years. Though I wonder how things would have been if I met her at that point instead of how I met her.”

“It must have not been that bad of a first meeting if you two had been friends before being sent here.” Damon shrugged.

Enzo’s eyes moved to the door down the hall and back. “When I met Y/N it wasn’t by what one would call normal circumstances.” Enzo could clearly remember the night that he had met Y/N.

Y/N had been walking home late one night after her shift. Parts of her uniform had been stained in blood from the patients she had been helping all day. Before she left her station, many had tried giving her a ride home and even offered to walk her home. But Y/N had believed it to be unnecessary. She had only lived down the street and she was sure she’d make it home safely.

She had never been more wrong in her life. Fear flooded her senses as she heard the footsteps behind her. The sound of the shoes hitting the pavement with each step had been extremely loud in her ears with each quick step she took. With the increase in her pace, the increase in the footsteps followed.

Enzo hadn’t been far when he heard a woman’s scream. With war raging around them, he hadn’t been sure of the cause of the scream. Part of him believed he shouldn’t even be bothered by the scream. That it was becoming routine to hear them as he traveled through this part of town.

At least that was until his ears picked up on her cry for help numerous times.The desperation in her voice had Enzo running towards the sound. When he found the source, a rage filled him in a way he was sure he had never felt before.

The woman had been trying as hard as she could to fight off her attacker. But it seemed useless. And in her current state, Enzo knew he couldn't just leave her.

"This is definitely not a way to treat a lady." Enzo said as he grabbed a hold of her attacker and tossed him against the nearest wall.

The sickening crack of bone hitting brick filled the air the moment his body made contact. While something was surely broken, it hadn't stopped the man from attempting to get up. But before he fully could, Enzo was on him instantly, sinking his fangs into the man, ripping his throat out. The screams that came from the man as he died were like music to his ears.

When he turned around, he found the woman curled up in the corner of the buildings that surrounded her. Her eyes were wide as they landed on Enzo. He quickly moved to clean the blood off of his face, not wanting it there as he tried to help her from there. Fear was evident in them as he took careful steps towards her. But the whimper that left her lips caused him to stop and place his hands up.

"I'm not gonna hurt you." He promised, not making any movement towards her. "I am here to help."

He watched as her lips trembled as her eyes went from him to the body that laid on the ground not too far from him. He could see the wheels turning in her head and he couldn't blame her. Not after what she had just experienced.

"I assure you, my intentions are only to get you somewhere safe." He watched as she nodded her head slowly before he even thought to take a step towards her. Before he did, he removed his jacket quickly, to use it to help cover her in some way. "My name is Enzo."

"Y/N." She whispered as he approached her and handed her his jacket. She took it quickly and covered herself.

"Alright, Y/N." He said giving her the smallest of smiles. "Why don't we get you somewhere you feel safe and I'll help you in any way I can."

Y/N only nodded her head in an answer before Enzo easily picked her up off the ground. And just as he promised, he had taken her to where she felt the safest.

"Her attacker had been a soldier. And while she knew that, it didn't change her mind about wanting to help the wounded. I turned her not long after that night." He said as he looked over at Damon. " I had been visiting her when Dr. Whitmore realized what we were. He drugged Y/N first, using her to lure me over. Any other time I would have walked away, but I couldn't leave her behind. I had fought to get her free but I ended up in a shipping box shortly after. Before we knew it we were here."

Before Damon could even voice anything about what he just learned, the door down at the end of the hall opened once more. This time, Dr. Whitmore came in dragging an unconcious Y/N with him. He quickly opened Enzo’s cell and tossed her in before closing it after and leaving completely.

Out of instinct and routine, Enzo was by her side in seconds. She looked bruised in places that her own blood hadn’t healed just yet. While she was still out, he carefully moved her over to the otherside of the cell.

“You really do care for her.” Damon observed out loud.

“She’s the only person that refused to abandon me.” Enzo said as he sat down beside Y/N, his fingers running along her cheek. “On one of our attempts to get out of here, she was almost free, but she risked it to come back for me and it failed. That was when Whitmore started using her for his more in depth experiments.”

“And how do you propose we attempt to get out this time?” Damon asked as he sat down by the bars of the cell.

"When the opportunity presents itself." Enzo said as he looked from Y/N to Damon and back to her. This time he'd do anything to make sure Y/N made it out.

_____

4 years later.

"We've got a plan." Y/N said as she sat down next to the bars to see Damon.

Enzo had been taken by Whitmore for his daily dose of torment, leaving Y/N and Damon left to wallow in helplessness as they usually did. At least that was until an idea popped into her mind.

"What have you been cooking up in that head of yours?" Damon asked as he walked over to sit as close to her as possible with a thick wall between them.

Over the last few years, the three had become close. As close as anyone can be in this particular situation. Damon could see why Enzo loved her. He would move mountains if it meant she'd be safe.

She had grown on him and he soon began to care for her. In a way that one would care for a sibling. He befriended Enzo and Y/N through the darkness of their situation.

Damon had watched a few times where Enzo would attempt to fight Dr. Whitmore about taking Y/N. But it always ended the same way. Y/N would still be taken while Enzo got an injection full of vervain.

"The New Year's Eve party." Y/N said with a nod. "That's our best chance."

"How?" Damon asked with a raised brow. "We're usually drugged up for those things."

"Enzo and I talked about it while you were gone." She began. "We think you should start drinking our rations. Build up your strength. By the time the party comes around, you will be able to help get us out of here."

"Why me?" He asked curiously. "While I would appreciate the increased intake of blood, why couldn't one of you two do it?"

"Come on, Damon." She shook her head slightly. "You know us. If something happened to either one of us, the other might do something stupid." That had caused both of them to chuckle. "Plus, Whitmore drains me daily. Why waste perfectly good blood when I'll be drained of my own shortly after."

Over the years, they learned that Y/N was special to Whitmore. Whatever he was doing for experimental purposes, Y/N was his go to. It was why Enzo was having a harder time recently letting Y/N be taken away.

They argued about it when they were in the cell together for long periods of time. Y/N would tell Enzo that he needed to try and stop. She hated seeing him so weak because of her. The man that had looked devilish the first time she saw him, had been replaced over time by someone else’s doing.

“You’re right.” Damon sighed as he nodded. “Plus they don't have anything against me to keep me in my place.”

“That’s the spirit.” Y/N said with a smirk pulling at her lips. “So tonight when we get our rations, you’ll also get mine or Enzo’s. That way you can sneak under the radar at some point.”

“How exactly is that supposed to happen if I get sliced and diced every few days?” Damon asked.

“That’s the thing. In order for this to work, it’s gotta be me and Enzo getting ‘sliced and diced’ the most.” She noted.

“He’s not going to like that.” Damon said, giving her a knowing look.

“Actually, it was his idea.” She shrugged her shoulders slightly. “This will work Damon. And then when we are out of here, you’ll get to see your brother.”

A small smile pulled at Damon’s lips at that. “That is something to look forward to.”

Over the course of the year, Y/N and Enzo had been taken the most for Whitmore’s experiments. Each day that they got their rations, Y/N and Enzo would alternate giving Damon theirs. There were several times that Enzo had given up his multiple times in a row because he refused to let Y/N be any weaker than she had been.

And with each day that passed, Damon grew stronger. It had gone unnoticed by Whitmore with how much time he had been spending with Y/N recently. As the time dwindled down, it was Y/N that was gone for hours to days. That was when Enzo worried the most.

Enzo paced the cell the night before the New Year’s Eve party. Y/N had been gone for two whole days by that point. Even when the lights had gone out at night, or even when the rations came in for them to be fed, she was never brought back to the cells.

“She’s never been gone this long.” Enzo noted as he continued to pace.

“Easy, Enzo.” Damon said as he watched Enzo’s feet go back and forth between the bars of the cells. “She said Whitmore had plans for her for tomorrow night. This is probably just a part of it.”

As if on cue, both of them had been able to hear her screams echo in the distance. The way she screamed seemed louder this time in comparison to others. Just hearing it had made a feeling of guilt and anger fill Enzo’s chest.

Enzo couldn't place his finger on it, but there was something different in the sound of her screams. For as many times as he’s heard them, and had them embedded into his mind, the scream he just heard was different.

This wasn’t her ‘in pain’ scream. There was a brief silence in between whatever Whitmore was doing to her before her screams started again. And that was when he heard it. At the end of it, he had easily picked up on the sobbing that followed it.

Y/N never cried anymore. Not during the torment or even after. If Enzo had calculated correctly, he hadn’t seen her cry since the first night they had been there. It was why it had sounded odd to him now. If he hadn’t been worried before, he was now.

The pain was different to Y/N. Whatever it was that Whitmore had injected into her the night before had somehow increased her pain. Every part of her felt as if it had been on fire.

As the scalpel sliced into her skin, another piercing scream passed her lips. Her hands had been clenched to her sides, her nails digging into the palm of her hand. She was sure that her fingernails were scraping into bone with how hard she’d been clenching her fist.

It wasn’t supposed to hurt this badly. It wasn’t supposed to feel like this. Sure the pain was real, but she could usually block most of the pain out in order to not give her captor the satisfaction of hearing her scream. But this time, it felt like every cut had been magnified by a thousand. Even the slightest pressure of a finger felt worse than it was.

The scalpel had done its job. She’d been cut open just as Whitmore had wanted before he began peeling back her skin to take a look inside her abdomen. The touch of his hand against her skin had been like taking a branding iron and placing it against her skin. No matter how many times she tried to ignore it, it was impossible.

Once he started messing with her organs, she couldn’t handle it. It felt worse than him just cutting into her skin. The weight of his hands had only fueled the fire that her nerve endings seemed to be on. And with the sudden slicing of an organ, she broke. The scream that passed her lips could have easily woke the dead.

“Please!” She begged before a sob passed her lips. While she knew the man wasn’t going to listen, Y/N had to try. “Please just let me go back to my cell.” Tears were running down the sides of her face as she looked at the man above her. But no matter what she asked of him, he hadn’t listened.

Y/N’s pleas were enough to cause Enzo to hit fist against the wall in frustration. From the moment he saved her, Enzo hated seeing her hurt in the slightest. And now, there was nothing he could do to stop her from feeling pain.

Damon knew what Y/N’s screams were doing to Enzo. The last few years, he never once saw Enzo this worried for Y/N. The woman could handle herself on many occasions but tonight it seemed worse for her. Damon could only imagine what was going through Enzo’s mind. The woman he loved was being tormented and he couldn’t even help her.

“We’ll get out of here. Just hold on to that revenge tactic a little while longer.” Damon hoped that his words would calm Enzo down in some way.

Enzo ran his hands down his face before looking over at Damon. “I need you to make me a promise about tomorrow.”

“You name it.” Damon nodded.

“If by some horrible luck that tomorrow doesn’t go as planned, if you are only able to save one of us, let it be her.”

“It won’t come down to that.” Damon had every reason to believe that nothing would go wrong tomorrow. He knew there were risks, but for as many times as they went through the plan with each other, they knew they’d be able to go through with it.

“I hope it doesn’t, but if it does-”

“I’ll make sure she gets out.” Damon finished.  

Another hour passed before Y/N’s screams had stopped. Another hour before the silence became deafening to Enzo that he wished to hear some kind of sound from her. Even with Damon being stronger, he couldn’t pick up on her voice. There was just silence from the other side of the door.

It was another thirty minutes before they heard the familiar sounds of the door opening. Y/N was being dragged into the room and her whimpers could be heard from down the hall. Even as she was stopped in front of the cell, the pressure of the cell bars hitting her skin had caused a silent scream to pass her lips.

Once Y/N was tossed into the cell, Enzo moved to her side, just like he had always done once she was brought back. But the moment his hand gently pressed on her back, she screamed. It caused her to move away from him quickly, needing to be away from the pain that came with the touch.

Enzo quickly moved back, attempting to give her space as his eyes widened in confusion. He didn’t understand what it was that he had done to hurt her. By now she should have been healed in some way. But even as he looked into her eyes, he could see how much pain the simple touch had hurt her.  

“I’m sorry.” She said with trembling lips. “Whitmore did something that currently has my nerves on fire.” She shook her head. “The slightest touch hurts and I can’t-”

“Shh,” Enzo said as he moved closer to her, but being careful not to come into contact with her in any way. “There is nothing to be sorry about, love.”

She nodded her head before a sob passed her lips. “We’re going to get out of here, right? Because I can’t live like this. I can’t go through another day of being on that table, Enzo.”

Enzo’s heart broke at her words. Y/N was giving up. For as long as they had ben in there, Enzo had been able to keep Y/N from giving up. He had gave her every reason to believe that they would make it out of there alive. Yet here she was, giving up.

“I made you a promise that I would do anything to get you out of here.” He said as he kept his eyes locked on hers. “I don’t intend to go back on my word.”

A shaky breath passed Y/N’s lips as she looked over at Damon. He now had been laying on the ground with his face pressed against the bar. A look of worry on his face as he watched the two. He nodded his head the moment she looked over at him.

“We’ll get out of here tomorrow.” Damon promised.

_____

The evening had gone just as expected. Whitmore and his fellow members of Augustine had gathered for one hell of a New Year’s Eve party. The vampires were on display for all of them to see. Y/N had been in her own cage while Enzo and Damon had been across the room in one together.

Throughout the night, Y/N had been used to show off Whitmore’s work. The humans are amused by the details that Whitmore had been able to do with Y/N’s nerves. With every poke and every slice into her skin, a broken sob passed her lips. The pain of it all too much.

Every second of it, Y/N wished she was dead. That death would be so much easier. How there would be no more torture, no more pain. And by the time midnight was a few short minutes away, she hadn’t cared if the plan worked or not.

She hardly cared about the press of the bars keeping her in had been laced in vervain on them or the fact as she leaned against them that they burned her back. She didn’t even care when Whitmore had said that it was time for their annual tradition of ringing in the  New Year with Vampire Blood. None of it mattered anymore.

It wasn’t until Damon appeared in front of her and called out to her several times did things finally snap back into perspective for her. She looked around her and found the place on fire. Bodies had been tossed about. No doubt been killed by Damon in the process. The blood on his face proof of it. She quickly got up from her spot and made her way across the room to Enzo, with Damon right behind her.

As Damon went to attempt to get the door open, Y/N moved over to the side of the cage to look at Enzo. As their eyes met, a smile pulled at Enzo’s lips. He hadn’t missed the vacant look on her face moments ago. And seeing her now there was a change in her.

“You had me worried there for a moment, gorgeous.” He said, giving her a smirk.

“I know.” She said with a nod, “But I’m right here.”

“Can you two maybe flirt later?” Damon asked as he went to grab the door. The moment his hands landed on it, he hissed from the vervain.

Both Y/N and Enzo looked his way. “You’ve got to get me out of here. This whole place is going up in flames.”

“Trying!” Damon said as he looked around for anything to use. But there was nothing.

Worry filled Y/N as she walked over to Damon’s side, practically pushing him out of the way to give it a go herself. Once her hands landed on the bars, a scream passed her lips, but she held on to it, not caring about the pain, and pulled at the door.

After a moment she let go and her eyes met Enzo’s. “I’m not leaving you.” She wanted it to be clear that she wasn’t going to go anywhere without him. Even if it meant she went down with the house.

“I know.” He said with a nod before looking over at Damon for a moment. He watched as Damon nodded his head before he turned his attention back to Y/N. “And you’d do anything to make sure I’d get out of here alive. But that means I wouldn’t keep my promise to you.”

She shook her head quickly, understanding coming quickly. “No, I’m not leaving.”

Enzo reached though the bars and placed his hand on her cheek. Even as Y/N winced at the pain, she refused to move. “I’ll get out somehow. But I need you to be safe. And if that means you leaving me here, I’ll be okay with that.”

The heat of the fire had drawn near and even Damon had been worried about how much time there was left. “I’ll come back for him.” Damon said taking a step closer to Y/N.

“No,” She said moving away from Enzo’s touch to look at Damon. “You go and I’ll find a way to get him out of here.”

“This place will be burnt down to the ground by the time you manage it. You are in pain, Y/N. Let me do this.” He said hoping that would somehow change her mind.

“No.” There was finality in her voice.

“Damon.” Enzo said, almost pleading.

“Sorry, Y/N, but I’m not taking no for an answer.” Without another word, Damon moved to grab Y/N.

A scream passed her lips as he picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder. “No!” She tried her hardest to fight against Damon’s hold but he had been stronger than her. Her head quickly shot up to Enzo. “Enzo!”

“It’s okay, love.” He said as he watched her. “I’ll get out of her. I’m keeping my promise.”

That was the last thing she heard him say before she was carried out of there. She could hear the room begin to collapse and it took everything in her to stop the scream that bubbled up in her throat, but nothing had been able to stop it once she reached outside.

Even as Damon put her down, the scream that left her lips had been mixed with a sob as she fell to her knees. The sound itself was the definition of broken. He looked between Y/N and the house for only a moment before he attempted to head back inside. But the flames had consumed so much of the house that it had been nearly impossible.

“No.” He said as he looked at the house. He ran to the back, looking for anything, but not even then. They had wasted too much time and the house had gone up. When he went back to the front, he could see Y/N begin to get up. He quickly moved to her side and was met with a hard slap to the face.

“You were supposed to help us!” She screamed at him. “You left him in there to die.”

Damon knew that there was that possibility that things would turn out this way. He tried to keep himself calm as looked back at her. “I made a promise to Enzo that I would get you out of there. You’re out now. But we both know that if I hadn’t made that promise I would have easily have walked out of there without either of you. If you want to run in there and die with him, be my guest. But I did what he asked and now I’m free to do as I please.”

Damon’s words had stunned her for a moment. Even as her body shook from the sobs that still came from her, she couldn’t believe what he said. “You’re free then. Go and do as you please. But if it hadn’t been for us starving ourselves to make this plan work, you’d still be in that cell. Remember that Salvatore. And even when you believe you have forgotten, I’ll send a messenger to remind you.”

She turned away from him then. Her mind unsure of where she’d go or what’d she do next. All she knew was the love of her life, the very person that saved her and made her life worth living, was currently being engulfed by flames that she believed to be unsurvivable. The pain that she felt from her nerve endings was nothing in comparison to the pain she currently felt in her chest.

Pain. Grief. Anger. A tornado of emotions that she didn’t know if she could control on her own. She knew she’d never recover emotionally and mentally from this. And there was only one other alternative that she could do.

So she flipped her switch and the tornado of emotions were gone.

Always and Forever Tags:

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If you would like to be added to or taken off the taglist, you can do so here! If your tag is in bold, it means for one reason or another I could not tag you in this. Let me know what’s up and I’ll see if I can fix it!

[lisantha-miscellanea]

{Dead Poets Society} These Four Walls - Part 1

Cameron now rooms with Todd. It was his choice, of course. He and Todd have so much in common. In a time of grief, their similarities will bring them together. That doesn't mean they'll stay that way though.

Cameron rooms with Todd now. He suggested the idea to the administration at the end of the Fall term. His argument: they both mesh well together. Their personalities, interests, and habits match enough to make for an excellent accommodation. It would allow Richard to maintain a full Welton experience, while Todd would have an "accountability partner." Cameron gave a dead poets honor Welton Warbler Salute to Mr. Nolan that he would alert him personally if Todd so much as considered acting out.

A change like that should needs face-to-face addressment. So, he went to tell Todd. He spent about an hour searching Walton's campus. He asked anyone and everyone, including complete strangers, if they had seen 'the blonde with crooked teeth who probably just cried.' Life liked screwing with him though. He found Todd in Meeks and Pitts' room. The fates want him to play Heracles, he guesses.

After Neil's passing, the administration made an unofficial rule that the faculty should separate the remaining members as much as possible. Seating charts kept them in opposite corners. Their free periods got rescheduled. They no longer remain in the same extracurricular activities. Anything left of the society now remains under intense watch. That didn't apply to the dorms though. Welton had come under fire a few years back after several students claimed that a teacher had gone through their personal belongings without consent. They had a safe haven. Cameron knew they wouldn't take it for granted.

When Pitts answered the door, Cameron flinched. He expected to get slugged. The rumor mill labels Pitts an angel. His Methodist faith making him an intensely pacifistic person. There exists one outlying story though - Pitts choked someone out in the chemistry lab. No one knows the full story, just that Meeks started crying beforehand. Since then, no one messed with either of them. Meeks has had it out for Cameron ever since Charlie got expelled. Really, Meeks never got off his forced emotional roller coaster ride. Two best friends down, his mind races from sorrow to rage, only to repeat itself. That messes with a mind. His mind repeats the first bullet to the heart followed by a second soon after. Cameron knows his role in that second absence. Witnessing your boyfriend consistently on the verge of a breakdown isn't a great experience. Pitts would kill anyone who made Meeks sad. God only knows what happens when Meeks cries.

To Cameron's surprise, he remains alive. Pitts gave a sheepish, disappointed look. Graciously, he remained cordial. Miraculously, Cameron didn't get slugged. "Cameron. What's up?" Cameron shifted his weight. "Have you seen Todd? I need to speak with him." Pitts bit his lip. Eyes glancing leftward, he sharply breathed in. Moving to the side, he extended an arm inviting Cameron in. Todd laid on Meeks' bed, curled up next to Knox. Knox had taken leadership after the whole fiasco. Cameron had seen Todd hang around Knox a lot more. Knowing Todd, he just needed someone to hold on to. Last he heard, Knox was still going strong with Chris. rumors said he was with her ex but that's irrelevant When he walked inside, Meeks stood up from his desk. He scowled, briskly charging towards Cameron. Pitts predicted this, side-swiping Meeks. Meeks started cursing. Cameron couldn't recognize the language. At least Pitts knew it, responding in rough whispers. That just made Meeks even angrier. In a rare moment, Meeks didn't want Pitts holding him.

Knox started shifting, slowly sitting up. Cameron knew he'd get only one chance. If he doesn't take it, Todd will learn the in a less sensitive way. He'd also get a black eye. The culprit doesn't matter - he'd get a black eye.

He took a knee, getting to eye level. Todd's eyes moved towards Knox. Knox whispers that Todd decides if he wants to hear Cameron out. Todd says he'll do it. Knox responds that he'll have to show some courtesy then. Todd nods, almost like a child. He curls his knees up. Turning his attention to Cameron, his silence indicates his willingness.

Cameron wouldn't take this for granted. He just needed to make sure that he phrased this properly. "I spoke with Mr. Nolan today." Todd remained silent. "You'll be rooming with me next semester." Todd didn't even blink once. "I'll be moving in tonight. The administration's demand - not my choice." Todd stared into his soul. Cameron started going off on all the positives of the new arrangement. Knox remained silent, like Todd. His faced twisted into displeasure then disgust. To keep himself from striking Cameron, he began stroking Todd's hair. Scalp messages always made Todd feel relaxed and calm. Meeks did them. Charlie did them. Neil did them. He must've picked up on it recently. Usually, Todd receives them when he might start crying. Next time, Cameron won't kneel.

Todd leaves in the middle of Cameron's explanation. He just stood up and left. Cameron trailed off.

The second Todd got out of sight, all hell broke loose. Meeks launched himself at Cameron, grabbing him by the collar. Shoving up against the window, Meeks started choking him.

"You've got a lot of fuckin nerve." Cameron heard these words as he turned purple. Pitts sprung into action, prying Meeks' claws off of Cameron. Hooking his arms under Meeks', he starts maneuvering him to the other side of the room. Knox got in-between them. Knox tried letting Cameron have some breathing room, but he still cornered him. "Cameron, you got some explaining to do." Knox's voice expressed anger and confusion. "Todd shouldn't be alone now. I offered myself to the administration so he can have someone." Knox soured. Really, his mood envenomed. "I could've roomed with him." Cameron scoffed. "Stick is doing just fine. Besides, Nolan doesn't trust any of you. He wouldn't allow it even if I tried." Meeks started breaking out of Pitts' grip. "So you're his little lap dog? Making sure the wittle wambs get back in line?" Cameron stopped his calm demeanor. "I'm stating the facts. If Todd doesn't room with me, he'll be alone. I'm trying to prevent another Dalton here." Meeks' vision became red. "He got expelled because of you!" Meeks broke free, rushing across the room to unleash a nasty right hook. Knox got in his way. Acting as a barricade, he allowed Pitts to snag Meeks again. Cameron took this as his cue to leave. Weaving away from the enraged erudite, he cautiously escaped. As their voices fade, he could hear both Knox and Pitts try calming Meeks. "He's not worth it, man. He's not worth it." "Babe, please stop...."

"No - I won't stop until he fries!" Cameron knew what Meeks felt. He's angry too.

"Mr. Cameron, thank you for meeting with us."

Cameron stared down at his shoes. He'll burnish them later.

"Tell us how Mr. Anderson is fairing this semester."

Cameron raised his gaze. Words started flowing.

A/N: My first multi-parter! I've always wanted to post fanfiction before. I feel super giddy oh my gosh. It's not my best - I feel like if I don't post this it'll become overbaked.

Addressment is an old timey word, a noun that means addressing someone.

Pitts and Meeks converse in either pig-latin or Italian. Take your pick.

Knox might be with Chris... he might be with Chet... he might be flying solo. Depends on my mood moving forward.

Pitts frowned trying to calm down Meeks

Title taken from 4 Walls by f(x). Probably their prettiest song, mysterious and mystical. A real vibe.

I don't have a set schedule for parts 2 and 3. These next couple weeks are jam-packed. Just know that they'll be longer (not sure how much yet though).

Also - gRaPhIc DeSiGn iS mY pAsSiOn

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As an unoriginal scrub, I want to give credit:

@srj901 made me develop an obsession with Cameron. no like the majority of my planned DPS stuff focuses on Cameron in some way like what happened There's something about her writing y'all.

@aedan-mills James P. Wilson inspired the Todd-Cameron rooom arrangement. This is where I first got exposed to it. You should read it.

Catstaff's Richard's Redemption on Ao3 really inspired me to post this. I read it after the initial conception of this work. It's really interesting how far back this fandom goes. i'm not making this Todd/Cameron just so we're clear

(I'm sorry y'all if you don't want to be tagged - I just like giving credit where it's due).

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

Side-Bar: Apparently there was active DPS Tumblr base in 2014? I did find an "Ask the Dead Poets Society" blog that was active for six years which only stopped posting in 2020 but like... I thought that was a one-off? Smaller fandoms always have cool backstories.

[lostsoulaltair]

OnS Character Analysis - Mikaela Hyakuya/Shindo

Hello everyone, after a good while, I feel inspired again to update analysis and theories, therefore, let’s talk about something very sensitive, this character analysis will dwell around Mikaela Hyakuya, therefore, let’s begin!

P.S: Analysis are held within a neutral view and ships are excluded

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CKerqp5yOGo (fitting the mood)

Mikaela Hyakuya is known to be as one of the characters carrying a painful life ever since he was a child; many might know that his parents weren’t the best one for him, along the fact they were followers of the Hyakuya Sect. Of course, there was a time of blessing for him since he was able to find a beautiful family filled with kids; that made him feel responsible for them, specially when Yu arrived to his life and the vampires appeared.

It could be said that, despite the outcome of his childhood life, he was able to smile again thanks to the help of the Hyakuya orphanage kids along Yu’s arrival which only increased that happiness within him:

Image taken from Seraph of the End: Vampire Reign - Chapter 01

Of course, such happiness and peace didn’t last forever due to the arrival of the virus and the vampires; such events only made them become food for the vampires, they were gathered in order to keep them in order to not lose resources, and of course, such events would unleash a tragedy, a tragedy that would crush the minds of two kids, being Mika and Yu:

Image taken from Seraph of the End: Vampire Reign - Chapter 01

As many might recall, we’ve seen Yu’s side but, what about Mikaela?

After Mikaela became a vampire, his happy demanor changed drastically, as a half vampire, he was disgusted with himself, he hated living with the curse he was imposed with even if such curse would lead him to meet Yu again, but within this, he saw the hidden truth of the world, which was about how humans performed secret experiments which eventually would lead him to not trust humans:

Image taken from Seraph of the End: Vampire Reign - Chapter 39

But within this, after reuniting with Yu, he aimed to live, he aimed to trust even a little the humans Yu labeled as family; but of course, due to his distrustful nature along the fact of what happened in the past, he wasn’t able to open up to them, he wasn’t able to communicate better with Yu’s friend even if they respected him and treated him as an equal.

Image taken from Seraph of the End: Vampire Reign - Chapter 43

Within the short period lived with the squad, he did grow to the point he did care about what they thought and decided. Mika could have taken different paths against them but at the end, he followed them and walked down as a family even if he couldn’t forget his first important family.

After some time, Mika would fight all together with the squad when it came to face down enemies; and of course, within the story, we’d see his hate towards Guren Ichinose, which, to certain extend is justified since he only saw one side of Guren in the whole story, he didn’t see the side Yu managed to see back when he was rescued or picked up outside of the vampire capital.

It could be said that, before the tragedy, Mika’s mentality was all focused on protecting his last remaining family and important person. All he aimed was to have a bit of peace instead of fighting aimlessly, but of course things went down. Peace wasn’t something that could be achieved easily.

But, when exactly were we able to grasp Mika’s mental health or rather what he felt towards his own self?

The first time we were able to see his real emotions were back in this panel:

Image taken from Seraph of the End: Vampire Reign - Chapter 89

Back when they were fighting against Guren, Mika aimed to unleash a powerful attack towards Guren, of course, Guren’s plan was to halt him but that did only the opposite, Mika kept going until he released all the blood his body harbored in order to save Yu, but within this, there’s something to be cleared, what could it be?

Correct. Mika never saw himself as someone righteous, but rather, as a disgusting creature, someone who lost his chance to live the same way as Yu did, someone who lost the power to label himself as human even if his “heart” was human like (a metaphor dear readers, Mika’s emotions were human despite his vampire state)

After these events, Mika became a demon, and of course, this takes over a theory I updated 2 months ago:

OnS Theories (17S). Twelfth Theory - Mikaela’s Samsara and Demon Mikaela (Sad Theory)

The demon Mikaela awoke as a demon without memories, he awoke as someone who aimed to feed on human desires to sustain a dream world on which he gazed upon a small family living happily taking care of each other, even if he didn’t recall who he was at that time, he was happy gazing at them:

Image taken from Seraph of the End: Vampire Reign - Chapter 98

And of course, as I stated in the theory linked in there, Mikaela’s world or samsara is made out of what his heart truthfully wished, a world on which he could be happy with his family, but, of course, the price for it is to destroy his memories of who he was in order gaze upon an unreachable dream.

The world his soul resided happily is a reflection of what he couldn’t protect back when he was alive, and this is heavily exploted in the latest chapter in a very gruesome way:

Image taken from Seraph of the End: Vampire Reign - Chapter 101

After the demons invaded Mikaela’s samsara, the demon Mikaela wasn’t able to keep the fight against those 3, allowing Asuramaru reach what he aimed to protect, thus leading to a small chase until he managed to unveil what Mika desired the most, which is to receive all the blame of his decisions.

But what does this represent?

This represents the huge and damaged heart, mind and soul Mikaela has. 

In terms of his heart, he couldn’t cope over the fact that he wasn’t strong enough to protect the kids he loved the most, including Yu; he knew from the depthness of his heart that he simply allowed everything happen without thinking when us as readers are aware the fact that Ferid Bathory is smarter than Mika, that he always had the upperhand against him.

In terms of his mind, he feels deep regret, he feels rage towards his own self and disgust of what he ended up becoming, he hates the fact that he ended up leading his family to a trap on which they’d lose their life; he hates the fact he got turned into a vampire and that is heavily reflected by how he sees himself as a vampire in previous chapters; and most of all, he feels like a total failure for not being able to rescue the last member of his family which is Yu; what do I mean?

He feels he failed to protect Yu from the experiments; their escape only lead him to think everything ended up as misfortune.

As for his soul, his soul only desired to get a happy time with his family, but the fact that regret and grief filled it instead of something positive, it only made him think of mentally punish himself, he constantly gave dark thoughts about humans, about vampires, and mostly about himself, he reached a point on which his mental health tore apart and what only kept him going was the fact Yu was his only family left from the one that saved him from despair.

The fact that he finally broke down in the recent chapter shows all the pain he has carried within himself:

Image taken from Seraph of the End: Vampire Reign - Chapter 101

Despite the fact that the demon Mikaela has no memories of himself, and the reason is because he views what his soul wished for at the loss of his memories, but the fact that he ended up crying reflects a lot what his inner self always felt, that despair of not being able to save up what he wished to protect, for alwayss being weak.

The fact that Mika’s life has been a constant torture and samsara, on which he reached a point of drowning on his dark thoughts, reflects how much he has endured deep within his heart.

It can be said that, Mikaela Hyakuya/Shindo is a guy with a tender heart that always worries about those who he cares the most, but the fact that the scenarios he has faced ended up taking away what he loved, has only destroyed and shattered him slowly to pieces in an endless circle of pain and constant torture.

Of course, as any samsara, this one will be shattered.

What do you think dear readers? 

Let me know!

gif belongs to yaboku

[angelharness]

Various Slashers as Yandere Archetypes 

WARNINGS: yandere content 

Another non-requested piece. I actually found myself terribly interested in the concept after my last post musing on the topic (found here), though I’d like to restate that I don’t believe I’ll be writing more on the matter, unless a commission. 

Will firmly reiterate last time’s warning, it’s very important to recognize this characterization as unhealthy and to never enable such behavior in any real relationships. 

Will be sorting each slasher into seven classes, including Isolating, Manipulative, Dependent, Possessive, Obsessive, Delusional, and Lucid

The definitions vary greatly depending on the Slasher, while some may not fit an archetype listed, or could be a hybrid of any number of them. It’s also very possible for them to fit multiple subcategories. 

For reference, a general key would be

Isolating - (Usually gradually) cuts off s/o from their friends and family, secluding them and asserting themselves as their only social contact. Goal is perhaps to make s/o reliant on them.

Manipulative - Fairly straightforward, though the means of manipulation vary. Often emotionally controlling. Might resort to guilting the s/o or self-destructive tendencies to get them to stay. Goal is to assert control over s/o.

Dependent - Depends on s/o for stability or comfort. Might suffer from separation anxiety and as such is terribly clingy. Often ignores other social ties to focus on their s/o. No implicit goal, but usually wishes for reciprocation of feelings.

Possessive - Similar to Manipulative and often a package deal. Would under no circumstances share their s/o, likely frets over losing them (perhaps to romantic rivals or even misguidedly anyone they falsely deem a threat). Goal is to assert control over s/o. 

Obsessive - Not necessarily Possessive, though the two sometimes come together. An Obsessive might not outwardly act on their fixation, but silently pines intensely for their s/o. Fixates heavily on their s/o. Goal is to become closer to the person of interest, or wishes for reciprocation of feelings.

Delusional - Hard opposite of Lucid. They likely wrongly believe their feelings are reciprocated, believe them and their s/o are meant to be, or that their s/o is in denial of their feelings and it’s up to them to help them realize this. No implicit goal, but usually wishes for reciprocation of feelings.

Lucid - Hard opposite of Delusional. Well aware that their feelings are unhealthy and destructive, but usually represses these thoughts or simply doesn’t care. Might feel guilt, but it’s often overshadowed by longing. May have any of the formerly listed goals.

BILLY LENZ

Dependent, Possessive

He is a complex case. His lucidity comes in brief episodes, then wanes to stubborn delusion. Generally, though, he’s dependent on you for a sense of stability. When you leave, he throws somewhat of a tantrum, absolutely trashes the place, tears the wallpaper, knocks shit over, then curls up in a corner, stewing in a vicious, wordless rage. On the rare occasions, afflicted by guilt, he’ll silently clean it up, intensely avoiding your gaze all the while. Most of the time, though, you’re left to deal with the damage of his uncertain temper. He feels like you’re abandoning him, even if you fully have the intent to return; when you do come through the door he launches into your arms, all rushed kisses and crushing hugs. Inevitably, though, the cycle will repeat once more, gradually wearing you thin and thinner. Like a sweater heavily loved. But this love is intense and merciless. 

CARRIE WHITE

Dependent, Delusional

Carrie is very much wary coming into this relationship. She’s so baffled by affection, true and honest affection, no underlying teasing, no stifled giggles, that she nearly breaks down. It takes much adjusting, but soon, she’s hooked. She becomes dependent on your praise and approval to function routinely. Anything you dislike she does as well. You’re always so right, she thinks, so puzzlingly perfect. She idolizes you to the point she blocks out any of your flaws (which come with being human), entirely eliminating the possibility from her mind. She’s willing to overlook any fault, anyway, but she’s dazed by the spectacle of genuine love. Every moment you’re away is a unique, awful pain, singed with worry (you’re leaving, you found someone better), and though in those moments she thinks there’s no possible greater agony, the bliss of your presence keeps her around. She doesn’t care for anyone else—they never cared for her, and it’s not like their compassion would compare, either way. She decides you’re all she needs.

JASON VOORHEES

Obsessive, Isolating

First confronting his feelings, he disregards it casually, assuming it’d be easy to ignore. He busies himself with work, but finds this fixation occupying his thoughts in increasingly frequent intervals. He knows something needs to be done when it starts directly interfering with his chores, leading to sloppy work and far too many victims fleeing. The easy answer is to off you. He hunts you down with that intent, well ready to finally rid of this distraction. But he can’t. Stands there with a hellish anxiety wracking his chest, a feeling only distantly familiar, recalling the days when his heart did beat. He’s so intensely, frustratingly obsessed with you—it upsets him even, confuses him tremendously. All he knows for certain is that he wouldn’t be able to stand you with someone else; doesn’t care if he’s not that someone, as long as it’s not anybody else. From then on, it’s a very last minute change of plans; keep you alive, isolate you, make you dependent on him. He’s not the type to force affection on you, but rather, would purposefully withdraw it for extended periods of time, until you seek it of your own will, in which case he will reward you with the desired attention. 

BRAHMS HEELSHIRE

Possessive, Manipulative 

Like Billy, has a fragile temper that can be quite a minefield to traverse. You can never be sure what will upset him, but when it does he makes sure it’s known. Could additionally be classified as isolating, as he will immediately confine you to the manor. Leaving is far out of the question, though later on he might permit you to extend this bit of freedom to the expanse of garden surrounding the mansion (he will, however, keep you far from the gates). He makes himself out to be entirely helpless without your guidance and care, though that must be wrong, being how he’s had only himself for much of his time living in the space between the walls. It gets you to stay, and that’s what matters in the moment. But eventually, the need to escape his suffocating presence vastly exceeds your will to stay. When that time comes, an effectively inevitable outcome, Brahms had realized in the back of his head, he’ll turn to violence, first in tantrums then in threats directed to both yourself and him. Isn’t beyond killing you if he’s convinced you’re set on leaving and there’s nothing he can do.

BUBBA SAWYER

Dependent, Possessive

Partly delusional, but knows you’re unwilling. Still, relies on you for a feeling of normalcy, that distant echo of a real, functional relationship. Couldn’t bear the thought of you with anyone else, so much he might resort to threats of violence to coerce you into staying. Whether these are empty or significant falls on you to figure out. Liable to tantrums when you’re away, though the severity of these outbursts is determined by his current stability. He considers you part of the family, though at the end of the day, Drayton gets the final say on your status of life. He’ll plead desperately and with genuine distress, but it doesn’t take much pushing for him to cave in on himself; he’s far more scared to disobey the family. If he’s to kill you, he’ll go about it sweetly, clumsy, unfamiliar kisses as he smooths your hair down, trying uselessly to calm you. Your struggling and crying only troubles him, and he might hurry up the process just to quiet that awful commotion. If Drayton allowed, though, he’d keep you as a sort of pet; you’re to stay in his room or at his side and never stray. You’re given a seat at the dinner table as long as you pull your weight and pitch in (albeit unwillingly) with household chores. 

AMANDA YOUNG / THE PIG

Lucid, Manipulative 

Fairly coherent regarding her emotions, though this regulation never translates into her actions, which are twisted by impulse and anxieties. Unintentionally incredibly manipulative, will very quickly turn to self-destructive exploits to gain your sympathy and convince you to stay. Eventually, she stops caring if you’re only sticking around out of a feeling of necessity. If you ever show intent to leave, though, she’d panic. Amanda can’t conceive a life without you now that she’s met you, and though she despises how dependent she’s become on you for stability, she can’t will herself to try and improve. Your attention is a new, frightening addiction; the highs come with affection and compassion, but then withdrawal in the periods you’re away. These acts of love have to be greater and greater than the last to recreate that same rush of intoxication. She’d allow you the illusion of freedom, reminding you often you can leave if you wanted (it’s all a ploy for sympathy), but makes a show of how pathetic she is without you. She can barely function, and though she hates this vulnerability, her balance of mind being dependent on another person, she’s trapped herself in an unforgiving sequence of self-destructive desperation and a murderous temper. 

[iammarylastar]

9. FAREWELL

"So, you're leaving without saying goodbye?"

She said, her voice like a ghost.

Shit.

Cal leaned his hand on the door frame, his forehead followed and he closed his eyes. He could feel Jess trembling behind his back, he could foresee her face soaked in tears, her sobs stuck in her chest.

Shit.

Leaving her was the hardest thing he had ever done, he doubted he could gather the strength to walk out the door, but now she was awake, crying, he knew it would be impossible.

Yet, he had to.

"Chris?" She begged.

He had planned everything, every little detail, like he already had, to break Oyster out.

He got all his stuff ready: a car fueled up, the maps with all the secondary roads highlighted, 4 different options to cross the Canadian border. His backpack, enough military rations to survive for 2 weeks, in case he'd have to ditch the car and cover the distance by foot. A compass. An extra pair of trekking shoes, just in case. Water. Lighter. Headlamp. Emergency kit. US dollars. Canadian dollars.

No phone. 

No pics, not even one of Jessica. He wouldn't risk to get caught and have her involved. Beside it would be too painful to look at her beautiful face. Dealing with her memory would be hard enough.

But he had no choice. More than 3 years he hadn't see his brother. 3 fucking long years he hadn't heard his voice. Teddy, his little brother, the reason he had kept living after their mom died, the one he had fought for. And kept fighting for.

He'd all planned in his head, playing every scenario again and again at night, all those sleepless nights, Jess cuddled against his chest. Looking blankly at the ceiling, on the hunt for what could happen, what could turn wrong, and come what may: keep walking.

Until he reaches Lac-Sainte-Marie, Quebec, 260 miles from here. Until he meets his brother again.

"Chris!" She yelped, like she was drowning.

For a millisecond, he thought he could just give up: forget his little ass of a brother, forget his oath to his mother, forget his responsibilities, drop on his knees and beg Jess to marry him, give her 3 kids, get a pet and live happily ever after. Why not? He deserved a little of happiness, didn't he?

"What is happening?" she whispered, her voice torn by sobs, like stabs in his back.

What the fuck was happening, good question. He was happening. That fucking deceiving Cal was freaking out and ruining everything again. Like it was meant to be.

Like he was meant to screw up every chance of happiness.

"I have to see him. Jess, he got back in touch with me. Those postcards. There must be a reason." He said under his breath, not daring to glance at her.

"Chris, you're still in probation! A single step out of the State and you're in parole violation! You're going to get caught and thrown into jail again!" She knew this argument wouldn't work with him, but she was a lawyer, well almost, she had to plead for her case.

"I know..." Chris whispered. The next words would be excruciating to pronounce.

"That's why I won't come back..."

"Noooo!" She totally broke down.

As he listened to her heart shattering into pieces, taking his own heart down, he couldn't help thinking about time.

It took her days to tame his fears, weeks to heal him for his trauma, months to forge deep, trustful ties between their hearts.

Ties they both thought were unbreakable.

And as it took a heartbeat to fall in love with her, he'd been quick to break her heart.

Now he was running out of time. With her. For Oyster. Fuck.

"At least wait for your probation period to be over! You'll be a free man and you could go wherever you want!" She begged.

Like he didn't know. Like he hadn't spent the last days counting how many days it would take to be reunited. Like he hadn't thought of it from top to bottom. Like he hadn't been obsessed and torn about that fucking choice he had to make.

"Three more years! Jess, I can't leave him alone for 3 more fucking years! He needs me!" He let his anger flow out of his chest.

"What about me????" She thundered, gripping her nightie where her heart ached, then pointing a furious index finger out.

"He's not a kid anymore! He made his choice! You don't owe him anything anymore! When are you going to start thinking about yourself? About us?"

Touché.

Cal wavered at her words. The more she spoke, the more his determination weakened. He had no choice but cling to his same old song.

"I'm his legal guardian, I promised mom I'd take care of him. I can't break my oath. Not again..."

It would have been easier if Chris was the selfish type. But he didn't choose Marine corps and law enforcement by mistake. He was a man of principle, loyal, honest, trustful. A man with Semper Fidelis inked in his flesh forever.

"Chris!!" Jess was burning with rage and desperation. She was fed up with his sempiternal lame excuses.

She would have slapped his face full force if she could have moved, again and again until he got it, but violence never fixed anything, she was dead certain of this.

Chris’ childhood to adulthood, his former job in the Marine corps, his time in jail, his whole damn life had been nothing but violence, he deserved better from her.

She breathed in and out slowly to calm her nerves down and regain control of her thoughts.

Give him what he needs, that's the only way...

"You're strong Chris. You're a good man! Why can't you see it?"

Cal shook his head, tears threatening again behind his lids.

"I failed. I failed to keep my mom alive. I failed to protect my brother. To serve my country... To make you happy. I don't deserve you..."

"When are you going to stop punishing yourself for things, you're not responsible for? Jesus, your mom died, who's to blame? Not you! You struggled to provide for your brother though you were barely an adult, Chris, you did your best! Oyster made some bad choices, his choices, he fucked up but it was not your fault!"

Gone his sweetheart of a girlfriend, he was facing a new, fierce, unstoppable soldier ready for anything for her love.

Anything. Maybe, even ready to throw everything away for him.

Cal slowly extended his hand to a trembling Jess. This gesture was a dangerous step back, he had promised himself not to touch her, not to smell her nor to get too close. No way he could leave this place without her if their hands were linked.

Jess nearly jumped forward to take it, intertwined her fingers so tightly with his, their knuckles turned white. She closed her other hand over their clasped ones, then pulled them against her cheek, nuzzling against the slightest piece of his skin she could.

The contact of her skin against his made him jolt. His plea slipped through his lips before his brain realized their impact.

"Come with me. I hate to put that on you but... Jess, come with me. I don't want to lose you..."

His words were like slaps in her face. Her jaw dropped down and the look she threw at him slapped him back.

Shit.

She thought she had won. She thought he had heard her words. She thought he would stay. Why would he have offered his hand otherwise?

"Wh..? But... Cal, what are you doing?"

"Come with me Jessica. Let's start a new life in Canada. I love you. I love you!"

His turn to wrap his hand around hers and pull her closer, so his gaze pierced hers, his taut body hovering over her. This could fix everything.

Say yes! Say yes! Say yes!!

Jessica froze in shock, her pupils widened. She would have left all she had behind to follow him. The solution was easy: just go with him!

Just go with him, and become an outlaw. Say goodbye to your family, your career, your dreams, your life. On the run forever with the man she loved. With no future but hiding and lying.

"And you saved your first 'I love you' for the day you leave me..." Jess whispered under her breath, defeated. He killed her hope the second before, and kept doing an excellent job to trample on her heart.

Her whole body slumped down; Cal had to tighten his grip on her hands to get her upright.

Her pale complexion and her trembling voice made her look like a ghost.

"No. I can't. You can't... do that. You can't drag me into a runaway and make me a fugitive. I... I'm... My family is here, my career is here, my life is here... with you!

If you really love me, STAY!"

Chris wobbled, his knees weak under him. She was right, he knew it. He was wrong, doing all wrong, as he always had done. Jessica saw her chance in his hesitation, and played her last card. Faithfulness, Chris' obsession.

"That's not what you promised me. Chris, you promised me..." she burst into tears again, clinging onto him like he was a lifeline. Their love was like the Titanic, they thought it beautiful and in submersible, but it was irremediably sinking in the middle of nowhere and will end up broken shipwreck.

Hold on Rose, you have a chance.

Sorry Jack, you're screwed.

Shit.

He promised her, that day he talked his heart out, in the wee hours of a beautiful day, lying in bed, slowly brushing her delicate face with his fingertips. That day he told her about his plans for the future, their future. Openly daydreaming of his will to marry her, build her a house, have kids with her, three he said, if she agreed. Plus, a dog. One day, he promised, when she would graduate and he would have a better job.

He solemnly promised her to make her happy, happy ever after.

"You deserve to be happy, Chris. We've been so happy together. For fuck sake, why couldn't we just be happy?"

Because happiness is not meant for me.

"Jess, I miss him so much... I have no choice."

"There's always a choice... Let me help!" She begged a last time, squeezing his hands even tightly.

Chris closed his eyes, his sigh shaky through his tight throat. Just do it. Say it.

Now.

"No. Not this time... Let me go, Jess, please..." Chris grudgingly untied their fingers but Jess kept gripping at him, his wrists, his arms, his hoodie. He patiently unhooked each of her attempt, gently but firmly holding her wrists together.

It was so hard, Jesus, to see her face, desperate and drowned in tears, to hear a plea, to hurt her so deeply. But it had to be done. Like ripping off a band-aid. Just do it.

"No, no, no, no, Chris, please, nooo!" She begged, she would have given anything, everything to have him think, find another way, change his fucking mind. To have him stay. Choose her.

All her expectations vanished when Cal took her hands in his large palms, bent to kiss them but just leant his forehead on them, shaken by both their sobs and cries. He knew he couldn't leave if his lips touched her skin again. She knew it too.

Slowly, too slowly, he extended his arms until her fists laid on her chest, her fingers writhing in pain, and stepped back. Unable to look a last time in her eyes, Cal turned his heels and grabbed the doorknob.

"What if I'm pregnant?"

He froze, like punched in his guts.

"What?" His world collapsed. He had all the scenarios figured out, even the worst, but not this one.

He had made love to her earlier that night, knowing it'd be the last time. He made it last long, savoring each second with her, kissing each piece of her body, learning each of her curves by heart with his fingertips. He made it sensual, passionate, beautiful. He had given her all, all of him.

He had laid on his back for hours, his love cuddled on his side, her arms around his chest, like to keep him from running away. Like she felt it.

He had stayed like this forever, staring at the ceiling, listening to her deep breathing, feeling her, smelling her, until he was drunk from her.

"I said, what if I'm pregnant." She stated again, interrupting his thoughts.

"Are you?" He blankly asked.

She might be. From tonight.

She could be. They've been careless for a couple of weeks, their desire so strong they skipped to put a condom on. They both silently agreed, since they had a talk about it: they wanted to spend their lives together and grow a family, one day or another...

Jess had tried the pill, but it hadn't fit her. She tried 3 different brands but every time something went wrong. Cal hated seeing her with cramps or moody and IUD was a big no no due to her young age, so he decided to take the responsibility of the birth control, and simply pulled out at the right time.

Which was, according to Jess, like a firework without the final. Several times, half of the time in fact, she trapped Cal between her legs so he came inside of her. She found it so sexy and powerful.

Sexy but likely give rise to a baby.

Their baby. His.

"You won't stay for me. Would you stay for your child?"

Bitch. She knew how push his button, where it hurt the most. Given what he was doing to her, it was fair.

His guts twisted painfully and nausea invaded his throat at the thought. His deepest nightmare resurfaced: a kid with no father to take care of them, ruffle their hair, tickle them until they're breathless from laughing, play football with them, hug them tight when they're scared or sad. A kid with no dad to love them. A kid like he'd been, grown up before his childhood even had started.

A missing father. That was what he would become if he left now. The worst of the worst. A man he promised himself to never be. Fucking never hurt someone like he'd been hurt.

He unsuccessfully was trying to clear his mind from sadness and anger to redo his math and remember when was her last period. Calculate the odds of a pregnancy. Rate his chance to stay.

Zero.

He sucked. He wasn’t worth anything.

Maybe living was the best he could do to save this child from himself. He was no better father than his own, unable to make a good decision.

Chris dropped his head, his hands tightened in fists, his eyes closed in a frown. He stopped breathing for a long time, until he made his decision.

"I'm sorry." He muttered, grabbing the doorknob.

That was it. She couldn't go, he couldn't stay. I guess that's just the way the story goes.

Such a waste.

Chris pushed the door open, wiped his tears with his sleeve and walked out, without a last glance at her.

[atomicfilm]

thoughts on emotions

Disclaimer: I am not a doctor or psychotherapist. I cannot tell you if you have a mental illness. I have been diagnosed before, however, so if you relate to the sections on anxiety/depression, you may wish to seek out a therapist. 

Also, preface: not everyone feels the same way! Emotions are so individualistic! I am making this post because I know a lot of my friends do not understand what emotions are or how to describe what they are feeling. That may seem very stupid to some of you, because I’m sure plenty of you cannot relate, but please be kind and save that criticism for yourself.  

--

When I am annoyed I am usually extra muted and walk away. Unless someone is loud and I can’t just leave because it’s school or something. Then I go straight to my headphones and blast classical music if it’s more appropriate than leaving. When other people are annoyed, they might be more vocal or glaring. I’m just very avoidant. 

I don’t consider myself to be prone to being too mad. When I do get mad, I do become a glaring person. If I’m cornered, I probably will start to yell. I don’t really get physical and certainly don’t initiate it in a fight. Becoming mad is such a build up process for me, however, and I really only feel it when around intensely emotionally charged people who are trying to coerce me. But then there is “protective of other people mad” and that is what we call “outwardly-polite but firm yet internally burning RAGE”. 

When I’m sad, I usually don’t notice unless there’s an issue with chest pain and then I’m like “oh, I am sad?”. And when that happens, I just kinda take myself somewhere quiet and let myself think about what caused this sadness and how to “fix” it. When I’m more noticeably sad, I usually am alone and grieving about death or something. I’ve learned to be a bit more okay with crying in front of people, again, in more serious situations, at which point people have learned to just let me cry without making me talk or talking to me.

Guilt? I’m not super sure about this one. I think what guilt looks like to me is usually just thinking over and over “you have to tell someone this”.I’m mostly a very honest person to start with so guilt isn’t often a huge issue because I take the steps to sort it out before it happens. 

When it comes to fear, I usually skip altogether and jump into anxiety/paranoia. I’m not really afraid in life-threatening situations. I mostly am cool-headed and figure out how to get out of it. I will legit be like “oh, that person pulled a knife on me, guess I should walk away and tell someone? *shrug*”. It’s happened before. 

Anxiety is one of those things you  can tell is happening to you. You focus on something and can’t stop thinking about all the bad things that are going to come of it. I start to tremble, my stomach gets knotted up and I feel like I have food poisoning or a fever or something so I usually complain about being sick. This ties a lot into paranoia but with paranoia, for me at least, I can generally be like “okay, I need to calm down for a moment and see if I am being rational in my reaction/cynicism”. 

Depression is different from being generically sad. When it’s more mild, it’s like not wanting to get up from your bed and having no real motivation to do anything. To eat, to shower, anything. This is already something I often have difficulty with anyway as self-care is generally draining on me in a sort-of theoretical way (obviously, it’s not actually, but just mentally it is). Generally, in other people, depression manifests as not wanting to do absolutely anything, but I can always find it in myself to write at least. Usually, for me, it’s more like a complete refusal to put any energy into myself or interacting with my environment for an extended period of time. I really distance myself from people and then start to get emotionally unstable because of it. When it becomes worse, sometimes it comes in the form of crying every day for no particular reason and experience a lot of suicidal thoughts. Therapists generally say that if you start thinking about how, that is when you must seek out help, although, I would say that even if you have more mild depression, it is likely a good idea to figure out what works for you to lessen its effects. 

Shock?????? Huh????? Name 1 time. I don’t get shocked very often because I’m generally a tad dead inside and that combined with generating as many ideas (not really, but eh I wanted a reference) as ze Thinker from ze Flash leads to me not being surprised often, almost never. I can’t really think of a time except for yesterday, when my best friend hugged me from behind while tip-toeing on concrete and I was distracted by my other friend so I didn’t notice. In terms of scandals and politics and stuff like that, I just am kinda like “well, that happened, that is a thing, that needs a probable solution”. You could be like, nuclear war started yesterday and I would be like “huh, didn’t see it in the news but I did just fact-check it and alright *shrug*”. My teacher once told me that his dad used to throw him on a turned on stove and I was like “yike”. I am not good at this one. At all. I make no claim to be. 

Empathy is like sad but like dead inside sad like it doesn’t hit you for a while because it’s hard to recognize as part of your reality if you’re not witnessing what is happening to that person, but then it slaps you in the face and you start crying. Then you get into “fix it mode” but also “stop being annoying and trying to fix emotions when people just want to cry” mode simultaneously. I’m not so good at this one either, but I am trying to be better. The issue is that when people start crying I usually detach from a situation emotionally although I have recently been doing okay. 

Love?  I will be like “you goob, I love you”. I tend to say I love you a lot and I don’t say it unless I mean it. I just want people to know I love them, yo. It’s cool. I get in weird periods where I don’t think I’m capable of love, but it’s not true. I tend to laugh a lot around the people who I enjoy and put effort into them. A lot of effort. Probably a bit too much because love should just be about appreciating people. I’m usually teasing and show my playful side a lot. Singing. Definitely show my love by singing and being a kind-of mean weirdo. Don’t force yourself to love someone you don’t. 

[strawberrysoup]

Inconsiderate

Thank you so much for the request @ozarkthedog​ I really hope you like it! I’ll revisit your other req soon for sure

Relationship: Steve Rogers x Reader

Prompts: #12 “We could... take a nap together” & #34 “Will you carry me to bed?” 

It had been so fucking convenient at first. You both lived and worked at the Avengers Compound, your schedule was consistent but flexible which worked nicely with his more sporadic and unyielding one. He was too wrapped up in his own head to accidentally catch any feelings and you had zero intentions of starting anything with someone like him.

Captain America was one of those always in the spotlight kinda guys, famous and intriguing and historically significant. The idea of being seen as Steve Rogers’ Girlfriend was petrifying in at least 5 different ways (+2 damage on specific calendar days: The 4th of July and Valentine’s Day). That wasn’t to say he wasn’t a great guy, because he absolutely was. He was a dream come true in multiple ways.

That was actually the problem, in fact. That Steve Rogers was a great fuckin’ guy. He was kind and thoughtful and sincere, all wrapped up in a beautiful angsty package. He didn’t just remember you offhandedly mentioning how much you enjoyed detailed coloring books and purchase you a couple, he hand drew a 40 page coloring book for you. When you complained the headset you wore at work made your ears hurt, he didn’t just buy you a new pair but he asked Tony Stark to make you better ones.

He also clammed up at the barest hint of emotion, acting like you had shocked him with a damn cattle prod the one time you’d said ‘I really like you Steve’. You hadn’t even meant it like that and he’d started twitching. You weren’t sure if it was a commitment phobia or what but it made fucking him 3 times a week a breeze (3 times a week might’ve been a lowball estimation but you told yourself he was out of town so often it averaged out the weeks where you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other).

Or, it was a breeze anyway. Until he continued to be so fucking perfect. It was inconsiderate of him, honestly, to remember your little brother’s birthday and also your practically excessive coffee order. He should’ve tried being more of a douche bag and then maybe you wouldn’t have started to maybe fall in love with him.

It was his fault, if you really thought about it. He didn’t have to be so kind and gentle and then turn around and plow you through a mattress with a hand around your throat. He really didn’t.

Settling on it being All His Damn Fault made avoiding him easier, for a couple of days at least. But your ire faded while his concerned and sad text messages kept coming and you quickly realized you needed to come up with both a lie regarding why you’d ghosted him and also get a fucking grip on yourself before you saw him again. Because you would of course, still be seeing him. You cursed your apparent penchant for self-destruction.

You worked through the whole day skillfully avoiding him, dodging and weaving almost like a real agent in your efforts to put off confronting him for just one more day. You’d text him in the evening when you got off and face him tomorrow, when you’d had enough time to thoroughly panic and then calm back down.

By the time you clocked off you were very ready to go home and vomit from anxiety before texting him. The door knob to your apartment turned when the built in handprint scanner cleared your identity and you burst in, slamming it shut behind you and dropping your purse in your haste to dash to the bathroom. It was a relief that your hair was already pulled back, you didn’t have the energy to wash your hair tonight.

It took a few minutes for you to realize you weren’t alone, that someone’s hand was on your back. When you built up the courage to look to the side, Steve was sitting there with that concerned puppy expression on his face.

“Is this why you haven’t been answering my texts?” His voice was a low rumble, fingers digging gently into the muscles of your back, “how long have you been sick? I was waiting for you to get home, didn’t expect you to run right past me.”

“I’m fine, sorry.” Embarrassment had settled over your skin like oil, slick and cold and heavy.

“Come on doll, up you go,” his hands came up under your arms and lifted you until you got your feet under you.

“Sorry Steve, I probably won’t be any fun tonight,” you told yourself that omitting the truth of why you’d been avoiding him wasn’t terribly important; he really didn’t need to know.

But you winced slightly and reached up to brush some of the tears off your face, what a thing to say. You hadn’t even looked in the mirror but you knew you looked like a whole ass disaster and it was so humiliating to look like that in front of Steve. He was constantly beautiful, fuck, he was probably pretty even when he was spewing chunks. It would be so much easier to get him to leave than try to explain all the details of why fucking you tonight would be an overall unenjoyable situation.

Plus, Steve rarely stuck around if it was just the two of you for an extended period of time that wasn’t going to result in sex. You couldn’t say for certain, but you were pretty sure he was afraid it might indicate some sort of intimacy. Despite the fact that you fucked, often, he did his best to keep you at a distance (not that it worked, you still fell in love with him—his fault, he should’ve done a better job).

“Oh, I—” He cut himself off, making sure you were carefully leaning against the bathroom counter before withdrawing a step, “well, I actually came over to check on you. I thought maybe I’d done something wrong, I wanted to apologize.”

He better stop being so goddamn concerned and sweet. You bit into your bottom lip maybe slightly harder than was a good idea, trying to reign your brain in from the errant thoughts that swam into your mind at his words. He was so fucking thoughtful, it was like he was trying to get you to suck his dick.

“No, Steve, you didn’t do anything wrong,” you shook your head and sighed, reaching for your toothbrush, “I’m the one who’s sorry, I’ve been ignoring everyone, not just you. I can definitely shoot you a text in a day or two, I’d hate to get you sick.”

An extra couple of days to avoid him sounded like just the trick to eradicate some pesky feelings.

“Well, I know…” Steve rubbed the back of his neck, “I know that usually you’d go to Sharon’s if you were sick, is everything okay?”

Ah yes, you could practically see him vibrating with discomfort as he broached something personal and intimate. It was par the course really and emphasized how important it would be to not fall in love with the emotionally stunted superhero you were fucking.

“Yeah, I just don’t want her to get sick either. It’s been… particularly uncomfortable,” that was actually true, you’d been very uncomfortable for the last few days.

“I don’t get sick you know,” his eyes met yours for just half a second before he looked away, “I could… I could stay with you, so you’re not alone. That’s why you go stay with Sharon usually, right?”

It was, yeah. Being alone while you were ill made you absolutely miserable and you’d cry the entire time, but Steve knowing that was so embarrassing. He wasn’t supposed to know that, which meant Sharon had been opening her big mouth recently. There was no telling the amount of confidential information had been breached at this point and you needed Steve out of your apartment, quickly, so you could phone the blonde and threaten to properly thrash her.

“I know you’re probably really tired, I won’t keep you up or anything,” you couldn’t for the life of you figure out why he was pressing further into not Strictly Booty Call Only territory, “We could… take a nap together? I’ll wake up in an hour or two to check on you, I could call some food up?”

You were quiet long enough to make him sweat, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. In a less serious predicament you might wonder if he’d been body snatched or hypnotized, but Steve was staring you down intently, fully cognizant of the fact he’d just asked to sleep in the same bed as you and have dinner with you later.

“That… sounds nice,” your chest tightened, an emotional war raging in your brain as your stupid crush on him tried to overcome your carefully crafted nonchalant mask, “I… um, I’ll just brush my teeth.”

“Yeah, I’ll be right back, okay?” He took a few steps back, glancing towards the door.

“Uh, yeah, sure thing.” Considering that you and Steve had gotten reasonably comfortable around each other, it was potentially the most uncomfortable conversation you’d had since you initially discussed a no strings attached fucking situation.

He skirted out of the bathroom and you turned your attention to brushing your teeth and washing your face, wincing slightly at the realization that he’d be seeing you for the first time without make up. You looked just a little pathetic when he came back barefoot (of course he’d had to remove his shoes next to the front door before going into your bedroom, it was just so goddamn endearing and polite), patting your face dry and frowning into the mirror.

“Don’t look so sad, you’ll feel better soon,” his conclusion was evidently that you were saddened to tears by your illness—which, depending on the bullshit Sharon had spewed, could potentially be backed up by evidence, “what can I do?”

You made your eyes big, looking up at him through your lashes to play it up, “will you carry me to bed?”

“Sure doll,” he swept you up in his arms with so much ease you could’ve swooned—you were allowed to take advantage of this situation, but only for a little while, you reasoned.

It couldn’t hurt too much to let him take care of you, right? It’s not like you could accidentally fall in love with him more.