#I can't listen to as the world caves in anymore without thinking of them

[spacewreck51]

does anyone else feel completely fine and then you come across a MAG200 fanart-or ANY tma fanart, really-and just start mourning fictional people all over again

[thedeathlysallows]

Glow

Pairing: Loki x Fem!Reader (previously established as Sugar Plum)

Summary: And I'm standing here handing you my heart 'cause I couldn't wait anymore

Warnings: depressed reader, angst, smut. Loki using his shadow magic for nsfw purposes, degredation, spanking, bondage, possessive!Loki, hair pulling. Warnings aren't exhaustive

Here's a part 2 to Santa Baby for y'all. I hope it lives up to expectations!

The year passes by in a dull, painful blur of building toys, spreading Christmas cheer, and ignoring the ache in your chest that appears any time you think about Loki.

No phone call.

No letter.

Nothing.

All you have is the ghost of a memory that fades with each excruciatingly boring day.

You can't even practice your magic properly... since... ya know... he was your teacher. Honestly, someone should've picked up on that. You're not your brother who takes everything in stride and seems to perfect everything with the ease expected of a future Santa Claus. You aren't your mother who just knows what to do to make someone feel better and keeps the elves satisfied and cheery without breaking a sweat. You aren't your father who is Santa Claus and brings joy to every living being across the nine realms.

You're... an imposter in a family of saints.

No wonder Loki ditched you as soon as he fucked you.

That's all you deserve.

To be used and tossed aside.

"You okay over there, sugar plum?" Sprinkle peers at you with curious eyes and rosy cheeks.

You clear your throat and straighten your dress. "Just fine, Sprinkle. How's the blushing bride?"

Sprinkle perks up even more, her mouth stretching into a wide smile. "She's perfect! I love Mrs. Claus more than anything in the whole world, but I think your brother picked a good girl! She'll be the perfect Mrs. Claus when your parents retire and pass the title!"

Sprinkle continues chattering but you block her out. You love Sprinkle, you really do, but it's difficult to listen to her go on and on about how perfect your brother's soon to be wife is. You know how perfect she is. You knew it the moment she stepped foot in the North Pole. You could sense it. Sprinkle is right; she will be the perfect Mrs. Claus one day. She'll have beautiful children who will one day also pick the perfect spouse and the tradition will keep going for as long as the world still spins.

And you'll be somewhere watching.

"I need to go. I can hear them starting the music." You cut off Sprinkle before your chest can cave in from the nasty feeling brewing deep inside you.

Anxiety, Doctor Jolly called it.

(You aren't sure about him with his credentials being from Gumdrop University, but your dad swears he's "the best in the biz". You're pretty sure your dad only says that because good ol' Dr. Jolly always prescribes hot chocolate for almost any ailment of your dad's.)

You wind your way through the labyrinth that is your home, meeting the rest of your family at the front entryway. Red and green garland wrap around every available surface, silver tinsel dripping off various fixtures. If this was your wedding you probably would've requested more decorations, but Holly wanted to downplay the whole "Santa thing" as she called it.

"My family thinks they're in Canada," she confided in you last week. "I couldn't tell them the truth, could I?"

No, she couldn't, but you still feel bad she had to lie to her family.

And all for your brother.

Ew.

"Oh, sugar plum, there you are!" Your mother reaches out for you, running her eyes over your perfectly pleated red dress before nodding to herself. "Sprinkle did a wonderful job."

"As usual." You give her a tense smile and turn to Holly. "How are you?"

She nods, looking flushed and excited. "I'm good! I've been waiting months!"

Months.

Holly and your brother have known each other for months.

Loki's known you practically your entire life and you can't get him to talk to you anymore.

"-go sit down," your mother says.

You've clearly caught the tail end of a conversation, but you can't find it in you to care. She tugs on you, wrapping her hand in the crook of your elbow before stepping through the heavy oak doors to head into what your mother affectionately calls "the entertaining room". It sort of reminds you of the throne room in Asgard, but less austere and more homey with all the dark wood and soft fire light. It's decorated similar to the entry hall, with red, green, and silver covering everything. A giant Christmas tree sits in front of the staircase with yellow twinkling lights and various handmade ornaments.

"They made it after all, how lovely!" Your mother nudges you in the side, forcing you to look up from the red aisle runner.

You follow your mother's line of vision only to meet Thor's eyes. He gives you a broad smile and whispers something to the brunette woman sitting on his left side. She looks completely awestruck, taking in everything. Whoever she is, she must mean a lot to Thor if he risked bringing her to the wedding.

You look to Thor's right and your throat constricts. Loki sits with his back straight and legs crossed, lips curved down in a bored frown. He looks up at the same time you and your mother take your seats in the front row. Not even the comfy cream and silver chairs the elves worked so hard on for the wedding can relax you. Loki's eyes burn holes in the back of your skull through the entire ceremony. You even miss your dad pronouncing the happy couple man and wife, you're so desperate to find an escape route.

For an entire year you wanted so desperately for him to say anything to you, and now all you can think about is getting away.

How brave of you.

Face your problems head on, Doctor Jolly told you months ago. It sounded nice at the time. Helpful even. Now? Now not so much.

No, you'll make the rounds at your parents' side and then go hide in your room.

Good?

Good.

The assembled crowd migrates to the dining room and you try to lose Loki in the throng of bodies. Much to your displeasure, it doesn't work at all. In fact, it's like he's zeroed in on you and nothing can distract him from stalking you in the giant room. You dance around him, downing one glass of champagne followed by two more. Eventually, you lose him and feel your shoulders relax.

"Hello, sugar plum," Loki's low voice purrs in your ear.

The tension in your body comes back immediately. "What the fuck do you want?"

He puts his hand over his heart. "How nasty. Is that any way to treat an honored guest?"

"Honored guest?"

"That's what the invitation said."

"Well I sure as shit didn't write that." You pluck a sugar cookie off the tray of a passing elf. "If it had been up to me it would've said something like "stupid liars need not show up"."

He raises a brow. "Stupid liars?"

"Yeah, well, it's a work in progress. But you get the idea!"

"No, actually, I don't believe I do. What exactly did I lie about?"

"Good question! You-" you bite off the cookie, trying to buy yourself some time. Loki just looks at you, half expectant, half amused.

"Admit it," he goads you. "I haven't lied to you."

"You took my virginity," you accuse.

Loki shrugs nonchalantly. "Something anyone could've done, sugar plum."

"But they didn't!" A few people turn their heads curiously in your direction when they hear your raised voice, and your skin heats up in embarrassment. "I didn't let anyone else. I let you and then you just left me."

Loki's mask of cool indifference falters for a second before he slips it back in place. "Did it not occur to you that I was otherwise occupied?"

"Oh, so you finally made that move on Sif now that she's free from Thor?"

"Of all the stupid, childish things to come out of your mouth, that one might earn the top spot." Loki bends so his lips are right at your ear. "It's been no one but you for a year, sugar plum. Shall I prove it?"

You shove him away and tilt your chin in defiance. "Fuck off, Loki. I don't need you."

Without sparing a look back, you leave the dining room and head to your bedroom. You'd rather be alone forever than spend another second in a room with Loki. Besides, everyone is so busy with your brother and Holly that they won't notice you're gone.

Once in the safety of your bedroom, you strip out of your dress, the heavy red velvet pooling around your ankles. A simple green bathrobe sits on the edge of your bed, but before you can grab it, long fingers wrap around your wrist. Loki tugs you toward him with ease.

"I've certainly missed this sight," he purrs.

"How did you-"

"Magic, sugar plum. You would've sensed me sooner had you been practicing with your own."

"Sorry, my teacher fucked me and dumped me, so I've been a bit depressed."

Loki hums. "Yes, so Sprinkle cornered me and told me."

You genuinely have nothing else to say. An entire year of dreaming of this moment, and now it's here, and you can't think of a single thing to say.

"Speechless, darling? I do tend to have that effect on women." He's teasing you, trying to get you to say something, but you still can't find the words. "Come now, sugar plum. I'm sure you have more to say to me."

You open your mouth only to close it before opening it again. "I don't."

"Not even if I said I've missed you every second this past year? Not even if I said losing my mother didn't even compare to losing you?"

You heard about Frigga dying. You even attended her funeral. Loki had been nowhere in sight.

"I wanted you," he continues. "Every second of every day."

"You're lying," you say.

"How can you be so certain?"

"Because..." You swallow the lump in your throat and blink back the tears. "I'm nothing. I'm no one."

"Who's the liar now?"

Your eyes flicker up to meet his. "You know it's the truth."

Green flames flicker and dance in the depths of his gaze. "I've met many beings in my life, sugar plum, and most of them never deserved to exist. But you? You're not one of them."

"Loki, I don't feel-"

"No, you never do. You never feel anything, do you?" He's angry as he pulls you into his chest, his long fingers leaving their mark on the bare skin of your hips. "If you refuse to help yourself, sugar plum, I suppose it's up to me."

He walks you backwards until the backs of your thighs meet your soft bed. The two of you topple over onto it, Loki's body still pressed firmly to your own. Through his finely pressed suit you can feel every single inch of him. What little bit of his skin is exposed is hot, feverish almost.

"I wasn't avoiding you," Loki says with a snarl.

He presses hot kisses to the column of your throat in between words. Something cold and almost mist-like wraps around your wrists, pinning them in place. You look to either side and see large shadows the same shape as Loki looming over you. That's what holds your wrists down. That's what slithers across your breasts, toying with your nipples and leaving goosebumps all over your skin. His shadows.

You struggle to catch your breath. "Then what were you doing?"

"Preparing, darling."

"For what?"

Loki hums, trailing his fingers from your hips to the insides of your thighs. His touch is light, teasing. "For you. You're mine."

"Y-yours?"

He nods. "Mine."

He spreads your thighs, dragging a finger over your slit. His shadows still hold you firmly in place, allowing their master to do as he wishes with your exposed body.

"Tell me, darling," Loki purrs in your ear as he sinks two fingers deep in your cunt. "Why would I want anything that isn't absolutely perfect?"

You bite back a moan and squeeze your eyes shut. You've wanted this, dreamt of this, for a year... and now you're totally overwhelmed to have his attention again. As Loki's fingers pump in and out of you, you arch your back, your brain going foggy with lust.

"You're a goddess," he continues. His lips are right by your ear and he nips at your earlobe. "I've been searching for a place worthy of us for the past year. You were made to rule by my side."

Loki leans back, a flash of green momentarily joining the warm orange glow of the fireplace. His clothes disappear in the flash and he's back on you in a second.

"You were made for me," Loki whispers. The firelight catches the sharp angles of his face, softening his expression. His shadows disappear and it's just the two of you now. Loki withdraws his fingers from your cunt and strokes his cock. "Yes?"

You nod, eager to have him inside you. "Yes!"

"Mmm, good girl."

He flips you over onto your front and grips your ass, fingertips digging into your flesh. His cock prods and your soaked entrance and you moan into the sheets. One of his palms moves to rest against the small of your back while he uses the other to guide himself inside you. It feels so good, so right, to have Loki buried to the hilt inside you. You feel full. Complete.

"Loki," you moan out as you arch your back, fucking yourself on his cock. "Please!"

Loki strokes your hair before grabbing a fistful and yanking your head back. "So pretty when you beg, sugar plum. But a good whore uses her words. Tell me exactly what you want."

You continue bouncing your ass on his cock, desperate for any sort of friction. "Please, Loki, please fuck me please!"

"Is that all? You just want me to fuck you? Is that all you're worth? A hole for me to come in and throw away after?"

"Y-yes." It comes out as a question more than a statement.

Loki's hand comes down on your ass, a loud slap echoing through the room. "Wrong. What did I tell you that you are?"

"A goddess!"

"What else?"

When you take too long to answer he smacks your ass again. "What else?!"

"Yours," you cry out. "I'm yours."

Loki snaps his hips forward, meeting your own desperate grinding. "Fuck yes you are."

You let your upper body fall forward, relaxing into his smooth movements as he fucks into your cunt. He's thick and hard inside you and reaches spots you didn't even know existed. Your mind goes absolutely blank until the only thing that exists is the sensation of Loki inside you. He moans your name, praises falling from his lips.

So good, he says. Mine. All mine.

"L-Loki..." you gasp out his name as your orgasm washes through you, leaving your body tingling in its wake.

"Yes," Loki groans. "My perfect girl."

His cock twitches inside you as he comes, his body draping over yours in the aftermath of his own orgasm. His chest rises and falls quickly as he rolls to his side and pulls you with him.

"Are you leaving now?" You hate how small your voice sounds when you ask the question, but Loki's answer has you sighing in relief.

"Never again, sugar plum. As I said earlier, you're mine. Now and forever. In every lifetime."

[honorhearted]

TRY + Caleb. He NPCs a lot in Ben's threads so I think you could write him 'for real' :)

SEND  TRY + A CHARACTER  YOU’D LIKE TO SEE ME ( ATTEMPT ) TO WRITE ! / @therapardalis

Caleb knew his role in the ring. If he caved, if he cracked, then the whole damned tower of trust would topple. Benjamin was a stubborn arse who couldn't admit when he wasn't enough -- who couldn't admit that he needed help -- and he silently relied upon the whaler to be his anchor, his back-up, his foundation. But that foundation was rapidly starting to crumble.

Even now, he could still hear Simcoe's taunts; could taste the metallic spoils of blood in his mouth while the monster quite literally cut the bravado from his heart. Caleb had spent his entire life pretending: to be stronger, braver, cleverer; so the transition into spywork had been relatively easy. Only now, his mask was slipping. Now, he could only share with the world his weaknesses, his insecurities, and none of these could protect his friends. He would die before letting them down. He'd been willing to die, in fact, but with his unprecedented survival, there was no way of knowing -- none at all -- if he'd inadvertently handed them over for s.laughter.

"Caleb."

He didn't look up. "Aye?"

"Have you even been listening to me?" There was an unmistakable sharpness, an agitation to Benjamin's voice that sliced clean through his chest. "This matter with W.ashington is time sensitive. If we don't see things through-"

"We will," Caleb cut in, his voice hushed. He didn't know if he believed that anymore, but his mask resurfaced to conceal his doubts, if only to heed the cry of Benjamin's unspoken need of support. Benjamin was cold, prickly, tactless whenever upset, but Caleb knew how to handle him. He knew all of his friends better than his own soul, because he'd grown up always trying to please them. As the one who wasn't the smartest, the handsomest, or even the funniest, he'd always vowed to be the most reliable. Though the frightening part was, as he sat there trembling within the afternoon sun, with nary a natural chill to be found within the air, he was no longer certain that he could uphold this promise. He wanted to give up. He wanted to go home. Home, where his own family had become tainted with the memory of failing to keep his uncle safe.

Mouth dry, Caleb abruptly rose from his perch, opening and closing his scabby hands. "I...I've gotta go," he choked.

Benjamin finally turned to regard him, concern creasing his brow. "Where?" he asked. "I only just got here..."

"To my tent," he lied. You swore you'd never run, you coward. "Gotta sleep it off, y'know?" They're better off without you anyway. Can't get hurt if you're not here.

Unable to look Benjamin in the eye -- he never could lie to his friends -- the whaler fumblingly reached for his hat, then placed it upon his head. Just like the mask searing across his heart, he was at the very least able to hide from the scathing looks cast upon him through camp.

[annamarabella-grumble]

mass effect replay thoughts, episode 11

episode 1 / episode 2 / episode 3 / episode 4 / episode 5 / episode 6 / episode 7 / episode 8 / episode 9 / episode 10

haven't updated these in a while! we're almost at the end of mass effect 3 now lmao. thoughts on mass effect 2 for the meantime?

we killed mordin solus in cold blood; did the math and everything--i enjoy padok wiks' company a LOT more. christ, he's weird. i like him

i'm never fucking playing arrival again, i swear on wrex's bollocks. a tiny room and five pyros??? NO THANK YOU

speaking of, if grandpa hackett doesn't stop calling me on my damn bananaphone the minute i enter a system where he's committed another war crime....... THIS PHONE IS FOR BANANERGENCIES ONLY

during every playthrough of me2 i successfully repress the memory of that damn reaper skeleton. it punches me in the face every time

the amount of times during me2 that chat was like "oh yeah that's an old bug," including for bugs i'd not encountered on my own before???????

now what about mass effect 3?

meeting anderson again: I HEAR YOU'RE AN ADMIRAL NOW, FATHER! GOOD FOR YOU!

that lil pat of shep's tummy after months under house arrest. father pls (i love their dynamic so much)

as always, we're fetching garrus first, as is proper and correct. we're not romancing him in this one, and i love how so few of their lines actually change. they're not together, but they adore and rely on each other. there's no shepard without vakarian, ain't ever gonna change

you know whom i do not adore? kai leng. god, i hate that railroady flippy bitch

he's not scary, he's not even interesting, he's just a plot device. BORING

which reminds me (sob): shep's fully ready to jump thane's bones in the atrium of a hospital. down, girl

speaking of: we're in love with traynor now, she's delightful. we played sweaty chess

speaking of speaking of: every stream we have a ten-minute section where we talk about how literally everything about mass effect would be better if everyone was queer

yesterday we played omega dlc and my GOD. the belligerent sexual tension, cut it with a knife. bioware are cowards for not just letting aria and nyreen fuck nasty on the floor of any of the dozen elevators we were on. shep can watch, she'd like it

(if you also like it, listen to "temper temper" by black pistol fire)

the section with the adjutants prowling around in the dark is my favourite thing in the world, it's so well done

"ask the ghosts if honour matters" is a raw af line

i can't believe that mr vega asks if we can adopt that husk head and then it ends up in my cabin anyway

also can't believe how married messers vega and cortez are I LOVE THEM SO MUCH YOUR HONOUR

steeb :'((

i've been having a rough time and i think a hug from jimmy vega would fix me. just compress me, bro

LEGIOOOOON :'((((

oh my god when grunt does the thing and you think he's gone and then he comes stumbling out of the cave and collapses

love how shep is like A LIL HELP HERE and garrus comes swaggering up leisurely to collect his krogan son (we're not dating but we're definitely co-parenting)

ADAMS IS SO HAPPY HIS ENGINEER DAUGHTER TALI IS BACK

i love tali's character arc

WE CURED THE GENOPHAGE BITCHES

dalatrass can go and sulk for all eternity, don't give a shit. wrex did the right thing

oh lookie here, ashley magically isn't racist anymore! hate how there's no discussion of that in the game. the writers just quietly retconned that shit when it could've been a genuine example of growth--something the other members of the og crew all got lmao.

fuck cerberus

FUCK CERBERUS

can't wait to blow up all the reapers

[my-mt-heart]

Just a quick sketch of a couple of beats :P

@retiredkat said: I want someone to yell at Daryl. I don’t care if it’s Carol or Aaron or Rosita. But someone to tell him when he’s been a hypocritical ass.

Set immediately after 10x09 "Squeeze," the others walk away from the cave-in (Daryl stalks off first, Kelly limps toward Hilltop supported by Jerry and Aaron leaves last, looking frustrated) while Carol stands alone in the rubble.

—

"Daryl!" Aaron's long stride quickly catches up to him. "I know you're angry, and you have every right to be, but you can't just leave her there."

Daryl whirls around, angry with Aaron, the skin freaks, walkers... the world in general. He's staring daggers, breathing hard, but Aaron doesn't seem to care that he's about to combust. The other man just looks at Daryl like this conversation is normal. Like what happened in the cave... what Carol did, is normal behavior. She was literally teetering on the edge of the abyss. A little to the left, or a few seconds later and Daryl would have lost her.

"I know, she's reckless, but you sent everyone into the cave." Aaron's using his diplomat voice, which makes Daryl more frustrated because this is another person who isn't listening. Being reasonable or negotiating with Carol doesn't work, clearly. The woman just tried to dynamite a mine shaft that they were all still in!

"Carol didn't ask us to follow her."

Daryl knows that. This isn't about that. It's about that he needs Carol to stay safe and with him, but she won't, on either account and he thinks that maybe she needs to choose not to jump off the cliff. Maybe that's all he can do. Give her a little space, enough to have a choice, decide if she wants to open up, talk... try to find a future together. He can protect her from most outside threats, but he can't save her from her own damn self.

"If Connie and Magna are dead... What d'you think that'll do to her?" Daryl asks.

He knows it'll eat Carol alive, inside out, like all her other losses seem to feed on her. Can't stand the thought of watching her vanish, piecemeal, right before his eyes. She feels responsible for everyone in their group, tries to protect them and he needs to find these two women, so Carol won't add them to the tally she keeps of people lost on her watch.

"Henry's death was horrific." Aaron's eyes are sympathetic, but he doesn't even know the half of it. Knows nothing of Sophia, of the girls from the prison and probably doesn't understand how deeply Sam and Carl's deaths affected her. "If Gracie–" His voice cracks. "I'd be insane with bloodlust."

Daryl looks away. He knows the pain of losing a child, of breaking himself to find a lost child. Carol lost both her children because he couldn't find one or keep track of the other. She'd trusted him back then and now, she doesn't even listen to him anymore. He's become white noise.

"Connie and Magna are adults and made their own choices. They went into that cave willingly and they stayed behind, to make sure everyone else got out. That's not on Carol, but she needs a friend right now." Aaron takes a step closer, "She needs you there, with her."

Daryl shakes his head. She doesn't. She needs him to find Connie first, then maybe, she'll be receptive to having an actual goddamn honest conversation with him. This is the only way he can help Carol. Finding Connie and ending Alpha, those are the two things he can give Carol. The only leverage he has to save her. She won't let him otherwise, unless it's over, so Daryl will die trying if he has to, because without Carol there's nothing for him anyway.

∞

The faint rustle makes Carol expect a whisperer and she almost welcomes the chance at an end, of it all being over. Her efforts have been thwarted at every turn and the pain of losing Henry, and now Daryl too, pulsates through her with every breath she takes, but the human form emerging from the bushes will offer no such relief. It's Lydia, looking like she'd rather be elsewhere. She's either about to bolt or just fold in on herself, Carol can't decide which is more likely. She used to be the one with that posture, once upon a time. The scared little mouse.

"Are you okay?"

No, Carol isn't okay or fine because she just killed Daryl's chance at happiness, both figuratively and literally, but Lydia doesn't need those details. "I should have told you where we were going," she says instead. "Given you a choice."

Lydia tilts her head, looks at her with those big doe eyes which irritatingly enough remind Carol of Sophia. They're shiny with unshed tears, just like Sophia's so often were. "I'm sorry I hit you. It was... My mom used to come toward me like that." She looks around at the rubble, not making eye contact.

Carol regrets that night, bringing Lydia to the border under false pretenses. Regrets so many things... running into the cave, going back to Ed every time she and Sophia made an escape. The only thing she doesn't regret is finding Henry in that creek. The rest is a slideshow of regrets.

"I shouldn't have said those things. I know you didn't plan the situation at the bridge, but if you'd given me a real choice—not pretended we were going hunting—I would still have come. I told you, the idea of safety and freedom, in a community is powerful."

Carol knows all too well how difficult it is to break free from an abuser. You think you deserve it. Their judgment. The punishment. She didn't dare to trust, to leave it to chance... to the flawed perspective of a teenage girl who's still in the clutches of her mother. Even when you're finally free, you're not. It gets into your head. Ed still lives in hers and Daryl hasn't banished his father. It affects everything, but Lydia doesn't know that yet. Still thinks she can have agency and free choice independent of her past.

"Yeah." Community is nice, until you're banished for doing what's right, or uncomfortable... the unpalatable. Misleading Lydia is far from the worst Carol has done, but it could have been avoided. Experience has taught her that you can't trust. Until it happened, she would never have thought Rick would drive her out to nowhere and leave her there. "I've made a lot of mistakes."

"That's human, right?" Lydia so badly wants to connect. She looks like a hungry child, eager for any crumb, but Carol doesn't have anything left to give anyone. "Nobody's perfect. We all make mistakes."

She hums in reply and tries a few unsteady steps. They need to move away from her latest mismanaged disaster before any walkers or whisperers show up.

"Do you need help? I can–"

Carol won't let her finish the thought, "Maybe you could make sure Daryl is okay?" She doesn't want Lydia's kindness, doesn't deserve it, but she'll take it if it helps protect Daryl.

The teenager looks in the direction he left, like she isn't sure she should, which is fair considering how obstinate Daryl can get when he's in a mood. He won't turn Lydia away, though. He's been worried about her since she ran off into the woods at Alpha's border, so he'll accept her presence.

"He's upset with me, so I can't..." Carol gestures when words fail her. She needs someone to have Daryl's back because you make mistakes when you're angry. "He's looking for another way into the cave." They'll look after each other and Daryl will be more cautious if Lydia is with him. No unnecessary risks.

"All right," Lydia nods slowly, pushing her hair behind her ear. "I'll keep an eye on him." The smile is quick, unsure, but sincere before she stalks off in search of Daryl.

—

Just some connective tissue between "Squeeze" and "Stalker," tying in Lydia's arc (retrieving Daryl from the overgrown gas station). It doesn't quite fulfill the brief because there's no yelling, but Aaron isn't really a yeller, so I hope you'll forgive me for that and for the way this is only low-key Caryl.

[SF]

Do you think it's too late to shoot these scenes? I'd love to see something onscreen that actually tracks emotionally. They compliment each other so well too. Daryl and Carol are both hurting because they think they lost each other </3

Thanks for (finally) letting us see a sample of you work. Definitely lives up to the hype!

[elianaroselight]

I have made a realization that my brain likes to come up with tragic scenarios. Case and point, I was listening to this beautiful song called 'This Goodbye' by Beth Crowley while thinking about @winterpower98 's Cursed AU. In particular about the generals, Ba and Beng in their younger years. When I realized the song was fitting, (and read the words, leading me to cry for 20 minutes straight), I decided to write this.

There are several warnings: mentions of death (including what caused it), grief and survivor's guilt. Please don't read if any of that triggers you.

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

Ba was struggling. To put it bluntly. The fire of Mount Huaguo had been out for almost a week. They had found an unrecognizable Liu Er, horrifically burnt. Her elder sister, Ma was unable to do anything without losing her breath and coughing. Food and clean water was scarce with ash everywhere and all but a few trees burnt to a crisp. Wukong has been missing ever since Heaven took him away. The mountain and the residents she had sworn to protect were gone. Destroyed and dead. The few surviving were in the cave, staying at the palace. And as general, she had a duty to make sure they were cared for. Their injuries. Their needs. Doing all she can to save them.

But she felt a hollow emptiness. Of everyone she managed to help and save, there was one she was unable to and it weighed heavily on her. She felt incredibly guilty about it. It hurt worse than the burns she had received from trying to save him. From trying to pull him out from under a burning tree limb that had originally been falling towards her. All she managed to save was the courting necklace his mate had made him back when they first became mates. It was a dark memory that replayed over and over in her mind. Her guilt was only made worse every time she looked at her husband. The pain and grief she put him through all because she failed to save his father.

She had been out, collecting what little fruit was still around and edible when she paused and stared at the branch that took him from them. She knelt down, feeling tears burn her eyes and her emotions crashing down onto her. "My world caught fire. You're the one who lit the spark. Now I'm playing with matches All alone here in the dark. I had to learn the hard way That salvation has its price.. But I'll never forgive myself That you were the sacrifice.." She finds herself singing softly, as if she was speaking to the elder gibbon.

She couldn't look at the branch anymore and moved to grab the basket before pausing. "Some days the guilt inside Becomes too much to bear. I stopped seeking redemption, I don't have the will to care. I know I should be stronger Cause I think that's what you'd want. You'd be so ashamed if you Could see the nothing I've become.." Her head lowers as she feels the hot tears slip down her face, hitting her burns painfully. She couldn't make herself stop and she didn't have the energy to wipe them away. She felt exhausted and hopeless. Like she could go to sleep right now and never wake up again. But she couldn't do that to the others. With the marshals down for the count, she and her mate were the only ones well enough to care for everyone. She refused to let that stress fall upon Beng. She saw how broken he had become when she told him what happened. He had always been close to his father and losing him was a devastating blow.

As Ba grasped the basket, struggling to find the strength to move, more words and tears escaped. "And I can't bring myself to say goodbye. I walk with my head up, say I'm fine but that's a lie. Your face will always haunt me. It's my comfort and my curse. And I can't imagine any feeling could be worse Than this goodbye.." She looks back at the branch, seeing the flashes of that day in her mind's eye. "And I'm so sorry that I couldn't save you. I gladly would have taken your place. I wanted to always protect you. But I broke every promise I made.. Please don't leave me.." She begs softly, feeling her strength almost giving out right there and then, heavy exhaustion taking its place.

When she looks back at the branch, she swears she can see him sitting on it, looking at her with deep and pained sadness as he listens to her words. "Cause I can't bring myself to say goodbye. I walk with my head up, say I'm fine but that's a lie. Your face will always haunt me. It's my comfort and my curse. And I can't imagine any feeling could be worse Than this goodbye.." As she finishes singing, she feels her strength give out and her world goes dark with one final whispered "This goodbye."

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Beng could feel panic and concern as he walked with another soldier in search of his mate. Ba had been gone for an hour, looking for food. He knew it would take more time to find any, but when he felt the overwhelming feeling of unease, like something was wrong, he knew he had to go find her. As they walked, looking around, the soldier he brought to help, called to him. "Sir! She is over here!" Beng looks over and feels dread encase his heart as he sees his wife laying on the ground by the branch where they found his father after the fire went out.

He runs over, calling out to her as he kneels down and picks her up. He could feel she was incredibly warm, likely from a fever from pushing herself too much. He blinks back the tears and holds her close for a moment before looking towards his companion. "Take the basket and see if you can find any more fruit. Bring back what you can and we will prepare it to split it amongst the others. I need to take her home and get her looked at." He says before standing with his unconscious mate in his arms. He gives one last look at the branch before heading home, silently thanking whomever told him to search for his mate.

[likelycatherinemay]

Diary 6/?

I thought it could go back in the bottle. When goes away for a while and you open the door again, I can't feel anything. How can no one notice? They aren't allowed to notice. If they notice, it would be the end of the carefully constructed reality of the world. It would be earth-shattering.

I want to be unmade. Dying is awful. It's awfully slow. It is agony every second. Razor. Skin. Razor. Skin. Blood. blank expression. Repeat. Agony. Class. Meeting. 'Why are you quitting?'

'My health,' my voice is shaking. I thought I didn't care anymore.

'What's your plan after this?'

'I'll figure it out."

"Well, you don't have much time before you graduate, so we're just worried about what you'll do after this."

'I'll figure it out.'

'Well, we'll have to rescind any benefits you were receiving.'

'ok.'

'Do you have any questions?'

no.

'Coordinate with X about turning in your gear.'

'ok, thank you.'

It's so much easier to tear skin with your non-dominant hand than you would think. Once the razor digs into your skin, your hands seem to remember the requirements for ripping flesh from bone. If anything, the unfamiliarity makes it more seamless. A stranger steals your skin, not you. The subconscious part of your brain that is distressed about what you're doing shuts off. Until the pain hits.

Why am I doing this? The blood trickles slowly and dries again. The band-aid goes back on again. We're no closer than we were before. You have to go and face the people who don't know or don't care about it. How can it end sooner?

My dad is coming to see me this weekend. He's going to see my arms, one way or another. But he and my family saw them before. The fading scars of razor blades pressed against skin. All I received was:

'Are you depressed?'

no.

I've wanted to commit suicide for four years. I have wasted the oxygen for four more years. The yawning void of the truth screams and aches every day. And if it came to being honest, then I have to waste more oxygen. Go to therapy.

'Someone loves you.'

then they're wrong.

'Someone will be sad without you.'

their life will be better without me.

'Those things can't be true!'

I LIVE them EVERY DAY. I don't want to hurt someone any more than I have already. I have two sisters, my parents will be fine. My sisters have always been closer with each other. I have never been loved by someone outside my family. What have I done with that love? rot. decay. I have become worse. I disgrace them every day. I have nothing. I don't want to know that these things are illogical. Logic broke a long time ago. It caved by the weight of existence. When you look into someone's eyes and know, they do not know you. There is not a single person on the planet who does. Whoever will.

I hope tomorrow I will wake up, and I can't feel the razor. I can cut and cut until I reach the bone. I can lay on the floor and watch life escape me.

Do you really care to know if I read?

Do you really care to hear some pretentious lyrics to a song?

It's a farce. Or at least it's a farce for me. I know you, person who reads this, have people that do love you. That would be sad without you. This is simply an issue of an illogical existence. When it is over, an error in nature will be corrected.

If my parents or someone else finds this, I'm sorry. How did I let this go on for 21 years? How did it take this long? Why would I do this to you? Your own son? I don't know, and I'm crying and it's all wrong.

I can't even look in the mirror. How long has he been staring back at you? That's not your son. He doesn't even say he loves you. He doesn't even text you. He can't even get out of bed. He won't listen to you. He just complains.

How long has it been wrong? When did gravity hurt so much more? When did the Sun shine too bright? Why am I wearing sleeves in the summertime?

Emma and Sarah. Why didn't visit one more time? There was always some stupid excuse. I'm busy or stressed or I want to be left alone. Why can't I be unmade? Why did I ever live? Then we wouldn't have to have met. These two brilliant people unshackled. Why wasn't I honest? Did you know something was wrong? Were you worried? Please be okay. Please let the Earth keep turning.

I'm crying too much now. I can hardly see the keyboard.

I have to write to my friends. I feel so far away now. I lost many of you after high school. It wasn't any of you. I keep thinking about the band-aids visible on my wrists. To my college friends, what did you think was happening? Did you think I accidentally cut both of my wrists at the same time? Because that sucks. I don't know if that's better than not noticing at all. But I never made myself one of you anyway.

College is the best four years of your life. Fucking brilliant statement. There hasn't been a day, a moment, a second when I haven't thought about killing myself. First weekend, alone. Now, alone. At least there's no one to stop this. No one's surprised that I'm typing in my room alone at 11:45.

There's no more tears. I wonder how long this will take,

[terrifickid]

ya,

spectacularly horrible outcome.

uh, it just feels like for the last 5 years - every week is another new disaster. no matter all the solutions I come up with, somehow they improbably completely fail. I just can't get a break. Like I'm cursed or something.

So I guess it's like maybe the feeling of being beaten to death? It's like, at some point that's really it.

Well I'm mostly tired of other people not listening to me. Telling me everything is fine and sending me invoices and shit.

And I'm tired of people saying hello to me. And tired of being bored and horrified by.. well the whole planet?

Like, eventually you tire out and drown...

So ya, definitely a new etiquette. Like, I guess everyone is fine with that and doesn't want to address it or change anything or consider the consequences. I guess everybody else is fine but I won't live. And so, it's wierd people come up to me and are like, 'how are ya?' - I don't want to have that conversation or any conversation.

"Oh well you're all killing me", "Hmm, what what do you mean? Am I?"

It be cool if I could just be euthanized at least but it's like, nah, send over the paperwork - we'll review it. half those places are cons anyway. It's like being in a nightmare.

So, at the suicide point It'll just be pretty clear that probably any attempt I'd make would fail since what do I know about that.. So I guess I'll just sit there and eventually wind up in jail I guess... and then at that point crazy shit will happen and I probably won't get out.

Pretty brutal, it just feels like no escaping my mother. Like I managed to live a cool life for about 20 years but with that over I just fall back into like, target world which I can't do.

And with no way to die.

I don't know what will happen to me. I imagine I'll become a demon of complete hatred and violence. I don't think I'll like cave and see things people's way.

life in solitary confinement? I don't think I'd eat.

Think they'd force feed me? That's so wierd to think about.

Why would you lock a person up in a cell for life and force feed them?

I'm not gone, but I'm over people. they won't leave me alone though and I don't know how to die.

ya, I was thinking about that. Maybe I can hobble around and just drift from soup kitchen to soup kitchen...

so strange.

I don't feel sad about my life, I'm not angry or regretful. I feel sad like the sadness of leaving someone. I just don't care anymore. About the whole planetary civilization. Like when they call you and you just don't want to answer.

ya maybe starve to death. wander off into a vast mountain range. get eaten by a puma.

Here it is,

sounds fine: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Terminal_dehydration#:~:text=Those%20who%20die%20by%20terminal,is%20reported%20as%20%22thirst%22.

hey whoa that would actually work. wierdly it says thats the shugendo way monks continued on... Hmm,

Well thats a sweet find. I can meditate for 4 days without drinking water and pass out. I can totally do that. Up in the hills.. I emailed dignitas and told'em the plan.

Ok that's one issue solved.

As I see it, I've got to accumulate bitcoin - that could solve the long-term financial issue. Then I just need to deal with my immediate needs. Should have realized this earlier.

Even still, what I would do with 200B I have no idea. I'd still have to go home at night. Will see where this leads.

Some persons I know says we all die in April. I dunno, so far I'm on course to dying just like I thought, shit that should have worked inexplicably broke down wasn't able to find any support and I've just found a way to die on my own.

Oh and it's literally sokushinbutsu

no I don't think I'd do that in japan would I? Nor hawaii? I have no idea where. I said I'd stay present and I will. I said I feel like I'm dying soon and so I don't understand what people are expecting from me.

Ya I'm completely exhausted and out of ideas on my future. I hated every day of my life and it's only been torment. Except for like a few good burgers and a cool drive once. That I always had an incurable illness which was the cause of it all just takes the cake. And now what grow old an die during hell future?

Well I think I'll be guided there. Looks pretty clear like I'm dying like I fucking said gd you people.

Maybe I understand why this all happened like this.

It's just like that vision of my death. We'll just sink into it.

Ya I've generally sensed I go to hawaii and come back. But just today it's feeling like maybe I'm starting to exit my body. If I die before hawaii which is in may, than it won't be from my doing.

I saved 1 dog. better than suicide.

[wonderlanddrifter]

Overture: The Golden Age, Only Three Seconds Away.

Whale-fall, Heaven-fall, two leviathans sacrificed for the same purpose, a garden of the deep and a perpetual kingdom.

I fell in love with the noose. I simply can't stop thinking “What a perfect little knot.” It is your wondrous embrace that takes me to the sky. I waste the minutes, tying necklaces in honor of our bond. So I whisper to myself as I create our artificial spawn. Ah! Here comes the idiotic Ouroboros! Head caved in since birth, it searches for its tail to form infinity, only to choke its throat, as you’ll do the same to me. And so it loops and loops, trying to grasp a possum nonexistent, only to find me! I flail unwillingly to resist, and like the true lover you are, refuse to take me away from your hold. And in our coitus of struggle, you give the mercy of sleep. Only, I can’t sleep. That harsh, taboo intimacy I have with you is my purpose, a muse. So why can’t I feel your love? Am I not the common petty thief, hand snatched by the aristocrat, ego eyeing gold too bright? Am I, not the desperado, loathed by the crown but loved by the dung-covered commoners? Am I not the sad man, fueling the bonfire of misery with his living ashes, hoping to be consumed?

Is it because you only have eyes for mistresses? Has our love become a distant dream? And when did that river split its course? What is it about those witches dancing naked in the woods, covered in goat’s blood and their urine that is better than me? I can do many rituals without following such sodomite desires! I’ve made many pieces in your honor, yet now you deny me so!

As I float like heaven’s unfinished work in your false choking care, I contemplate, for I see your affair with the other man on the gallows. He lays limp, piss-stained leggings and crows pecking bits of eye and finger. So I conclude with the truth.

You’ve never loved me to begin with.

It is the coward’s tool of death, and I deal with better and greater inspirations. It is the tool of weak willpower, one even a fool could use. Rather, I recall the warriors of old: when suffering defeat after battle as a survivor, rather than weeping at gone memories, they instead take their own blade, their honor, and become a marriage with their tool of blood. HARAKIRI. In the finale when Glory sleeps in his cradle of slaughter, the practitioner of the begone craft, unable to withstand the new white canvas of lull, finds his implement in the bosom, as a dear comrade gives a final kiss: that being his dear friend, the blade. There are other companions, yes, but the spear is too cumbersome in this beautiful parting, and the firearm is too industrial, too simple. Every part of the blade is meticulously crafted by a master, and it dances with its partner. And what of the noose now? A knot that can be tied by a child to make life pennies cheap, to lynch on a mass scale and at a moment's whim. Compared to the personal, painful ritual that takes dedication to one’s life. With that knowledge, I think I know what I’d rather take.

Of course, dedicated to the child of mankind, art, of which the greatest muse is death. The artist subconsciously prays to death, every stroke and word from the pen a life we give, and in completion, taxidermy of dreams obsessed. It is the single feeling that tugs at the all-heart and conducts the lacrimosa, it is the celebration of our biology, the grand finale. But now it is no longer a perfect muse, leaving behind a corpse of the corpse-maker. Leaving insipid carcasses to shamble, a body willing where the spirit is weak, leaving an imprint of sweet and bloody memories clinging to the song of life. But it is not for them anymore.

There is no purpose to Death anymore, Legato, a constant humming in the orchestra of pulsating viscera and biological song, refusing to stop listening, refusing to stop breaking the rhythm with their subpar soprano.

So like the other abstractions in this world of delusions, they lie to the universe and pretend the stage-play of Death is still sorrowful indeed. That the slaughterhouse of war still carries honor and gore in a field of sacrifices, that pestilence still carries heavy, reminding all the limitations of flesh, that I should still cling to life, when an un-life is already confirmed on the other side.

Because The Moth still sings, a chorus of damnation that tells us things still flow naturally, effervescently, and in order. A lie, The Moth which is guided by the sunlight to ferry souls into their cells—the lukewarm labyrinths of judgment— in the precipice of extinction, in the infernal dream and the aether, nothing but an over-glorified bank of memories. All for the illusion that the universe still moves like clockwork after His death.

The only ending that truly matters, one that made even the world wept in melancholy, The Death of God, a divine suicide. In a tapestry of rot and rebirth, it alone was the perfect color of dust. In my twice-born life, I strolled monotonously through the first— a distant daydream—, and only when my cell called for me did I attempt to run, but found the hours to be too short. So I prayed.

And The Moth, parasite, thief of my identity, and dear friend answered. The lovely little fairy of annihilation gifted me all of eternity, freeing me from the cell with a silk string. Legato, my shrieking lullaby discordant in the song of life, a performance repeating upon repetitions. If I so desire, I could join the blind idiotic beings of the deep sea, looking at the dark; an inhumane existence not too dissimilar to the cell. But I was called back from the monotony of eternity by the muse, to showcase to the world the glory and beauty of the holy wounds of reality.

I’ll put it all in a masterpiece, a requiem, the lacerations and gashes from the radiance flowing a heavenly river, the sorrow which He bears alone still seeks to suffocate others in a miserable whisper, the flutterings of the neurotransmitters dreaming of better days in wonderland. So let it be then! The white canvas that will be covered in a thousand intricate fields of flowers supping on His blood, to show the world the beauty in oblivion, a gallery of everything holy from the coalescence of one divine soul. The harrowed and maimed form reveals the prismatic decay of everything, including what is to be forever. I will join the purulent magnum opus, for the artist is only as great as the sum of his work.

My second life, biology that is abandoned for enlightenment through the painting of violence. I am one of the many flies chasing the dead-light of dreams, I am one of the cells in the matrix of The Moth-Song. Legato, I am an unending note.

A vagitus declaration. I return to the broken kingdom as a prophet. My gray matter is a blank canvas waiting to be filled, it contains only the muse, The Moth, and a name: Apostles, a relapse of the mind, fingernail inching towards destruction in an attempt to recollect an artifact of a bygone nerve.

[wintrcaptn]

Forbidden Ch. 2 | Andy Barber

Summary : Summary : You used to babysit Jacob when he was younger and had the biggest crush on his dad, Andy. But being in High school at the time, you knew it was just a stupid fantasy that could never happen. Now, six years later, you were visiting your hometown while on winter break. Once you found out the news about Jacob, you knew you had to go check up on them. But things take a turn when you find yourself alone with Andy Barber.

Part One

A/N : I wasn’t planning on making a second part for this fic, until now. Thank you all for the amazing feedback! I hope you like this one just as much (:

You barely slept last night, all you could think about was the kiss. About the way Andy held you close to him, and how his tongue danced along yours.

It was driving you crazy, wishing you could taste him again. To feel him.

But you also couldn’t help feeling horrible. Like the worse person in the world. And it didn’t help that you were seeing him again in just a few hours.

It was beginning to make you nervous. To the point where you almost wanted to cancel and forget the whole thing.

But you knew you couldn’t do that to Jacob.

Staring at your reflection, you let out a long sigh.

“It’s just one more night.” You said to yourself.

____

Pulling up to the Barber’s house, you were washed over with guilt and filled with anxiety. Not knowing how this was going to play out, made it even worse.

What if Laurie found out?

What if Andy regretted kissing you?

A thousand questions flooded your mind and it was starting to freak you out.

Jacob saw your car through his blinds and immediately ran downstairs. Excitement plastered over his face. It caught Andy’s attention.

“You okay there, buddy?” He asked, flipping through the channels on the tv.

“Y-yeah.” Jacob said, walking over to the door. “Y/N’s here.”

The second your name fell from his sons lips, Andy stood up and shot his gaze to the window.

You saw the door swing open, and Jacob stood in the door way with a cheeky grin. And just then, you knew you had to suck it up and focus on being there for him.

“Hey!” You said, climbing out of your car.

“Hi!” He exclaimed.

Andy tensed up the closer you got. Part of him felt guilty for what happened, and especially for wanting to kiss you again.

This wasn’t who he was. He wasn’t a cheater, someone who would go behind his wife’s back and betray her trust. He hated himself for letting it get to this. But he couldn’t help it. He wanted you.

As you walked into the house, you tried hard to only focus on Jacob. But in the corner of your eye, you saw his figure. Suddenly, your gaze met his and instantly, your breath hitched.

“H-Hi.” He said, hesitantly walking over to you.

You swallowed hard, but found some courage in you to snap out of the daze and collect yourself. “Hi.” You replied.

“So I was thinking we can order pizza and put on a movie or something while I set up the game? Like old times?” Jacob muttered, looking at you then back to his dad. “You’re going to play too, right?”

“Um—if Y/N is okay with it.”

Both of the Barber boys turned their gaze on you, putting you on the spot.

“Of course I’m okay with it.” You said. “Is Mrs. Barber joining us or—?”

“No, she had some errands to do.” Jacob interrupted you. “She said she’ll be home later though.”

You could tell something was off. The second day in a row, and they weren’t together? This wasn’t like them.

For as long as you could remember, they made every effort to be together.

“I’ll get the game. Dad, can you order the pizza?” Jacob’s voice snapped you back to the moment.

But before either of you could respond, Jacob turned around and ran up the stairs, leaving you alone with Andy.

You hesitantly looked over to him, and his eyes were already on you.

It was crazy how much power a stare held over you. It made your heart pound erratically, and it was hard to think straight.

The silence was driving him crazy. He wanted to know—needed to know what you were thinking. And he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Can we talk about—you know.” He whispered, walking over to you.

Each step he made, growing closer to you, things were beginning to feel hotter and constricting.

“Th-there’s nothing to t-talk about, Mr. Barber—“

“Andy.” He cut you off, now standing just right in front of you. His eyes looking longingly into yours, almost as if he were searching for something. “Please, call me Andy.”

You swallowed hard. “Andy, please. Can we just pretend it didn’t happen?”

“I can’t. I tried, but I can’t stop thinking about it, about you. And—and I don’t think I want to stop.”

As you opened your mouth, you were instantly silenced after the sound of footsteps grew nearer.

Andy cleared his throat and quickly walked back toward the kitchen, pulling out his phone to order the pizza.

Finally, you were able to let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding.

“Okay, I got monopoly and Pictionary Incase mom comes home early.” Jacob smiled.

“Perfect.”

After a few hours, the three of you filled yourselves with pizza and soda, while playing the game.

Sitting there with you and Jacob, watching the way you both laughed and talked, it was invigorating. In this very moment, Andy watched his son be a kid again and that’s all he ever wanted.

Everything felt normal. Like how it used to be. Before it all went to shit.

You all talked like no time has passed. Cracking jokes, and teaming up with Jacob, buying all the properties so Andy had to pay.

It was perfect.

“So did you ever finish reading the Harry Potter series?” You asked, rolling the dice.

Jacob nodded, flashing a smile as he remembered how much you used to love those books.

“Yea. They were good. Still not my favorite but—“

“Not your favorite?! Dude, Harry Potter is amazing and it has everything!”

Andy listened to you both go back and forth, a smirk plastered on his face.

“Ok well how about the next time in town, we have a Harry Potter movie marathon? I’m sure those will change your mind.”

“Fine!”

Laurie finally came home around seven. She looked even more exhausted than yesterday, and a little upset.

She said a soft hello, gave Jacob a kiss on the head and went straight upstairs, barely giving Andy a glance.

Then suddenly, it was back to reality.

Though you were able to distract Jacob for a bit, nothing could make him forget the truth. And for that, he needed some time to himself.

“I-I’m getting tired, so I think I’m going to lay down for awhile.” He said, propping up to his feet. “Thanks for coming over. I had fun. Maybe we can do it again soon?”

You flashed him a soft smile, and nodded before pulling him in for a hug. “Yeah, definitely.”

And just like that, he ran up to his room, leaving you alone with Andy. Again.

Andy sat on the couch, running his hands through his hair. Tired, upset, confused. There were too many different emotions running through him, it was starting to become overwhelming.

You decided to clean up the mess before leaving.

“Y-you dont have to do that.” He said, gazing at you.

“It’s okay. It’s the least I could do since you fed me the past two days.” You chuckled.

He chuckled along with you, and helped with the dishes. Not another word but glances were shared.

And every time you looked at him, the more you yearned to feel him. But you knew you shouldn’t.

He leaned against the counter once everything had been cleaned. His arms crossed over his chest.

There had only been one constant thing roaming through his mind; He can't be having feelings for another woman. He just can't.

But no matter how hard he tries to push his feelings aside, he couldnt. It wasn’t making any sense. Why couldn’t he shake this? Why couldn’t he let this go?

Before he had time to process anything, something overcame him and suddenly it all came out like word vomit.

“These past few weeks have been shit.” He said, staring at his feet. “And I have been losing my mind over everything that’s been going on until—“

Andy paused, meeting your gaze. “You showed up out of nowhere and—I don’t know.”

You weren’t sure what to do or say but stand there.

“It’s like I’ve been drowning, and kissing you—kissing you was like coming up for fresh air. I was able to breathe again.”

Every word that fell from his lips only made you want him more. Not only physically, not just feeling him or tasting him, you wanted him. All of him.

And he wanted you.

How did this even happen? You hadn’t seen each other in years and after a day, it was instant. Like it had come out of a movie.

He slowly started towards you, and the way he locked his gaze on you, it was almost as if he hungered for you.

Your breath hitched to the back of your throat, scared to move a single muscle.

“Just tell me to stop, and I’ll let this go.” His voice was low, almost like a growl and it only made you want him more.

Without realizing, he stood just inches in front of you, towering over you. Forcing you to crank your neck up so you could gaze into him.

You slightly opened your mouth, knowing you should say no, but no words came out.

The silence was all he needed, and suddenly, his rough hands cupped the back of your head and crashed his lips against yours.

Everything felt still like time had froze. And you were lost in the moment. Lost in his kiss, quickly motioning back and caving into him.

Soft grunts escaped him as he deepened this kiss, while his hands slid down to your waist. Without thinking, he lifted you off the ground, and your legs wrapped around him.

Andy could feel himself grow harder by the second. Yearning to feel more of you. All of you.

Your fingers were deep in His hair as your lips molded against his. You were both so caught up in each other, taking every second in.

He sat you on the counter, and swiftly took off his shirt, exposing his bare chest.

Your fingers traced over him, making its way down to the button of his jeans.

Feeling you getting closer to his already hard shaft, made him shiver under your touch. And damn, he wanted you.

His lips never left yours, sucking, biting and tugging at your bottom lip, forcing soft moans out of you.

The kiss had been everything you ever dreamt of. Possibly even better.

You were so drenched, you knew your panties had been soaked completely. But you could care less.

You could feel yourself pulsate between your legs where he stood. Your body yearned to feel him. To feel all of him, inside of you.

Andy could sense just how badly you wanted him. It turned him on even more, ready to give in and pound into you. He kissed you harder, showing you that he wanted you just as badly.

Everything moved so quickly, you almost didn’t realize you were both unbuttoning your shirt and with your next breath, Andy pulled the shirt off of you.

You were both lost in each other. Lost in the moment, caving into one another.

His lips began traveling down to your neck. His grazed his tongue over your skin just before he his teeth pressed into you and forced another moan out of you.

He loved hearing you. It made his dick twitch under his boxers, begging to be inside of you.

Until...

“Dad, can you bring up a glass of water for me?” Jacob asked, leaning over the railing of the stairs.

“Y-Yeah buddy. I’ll be right there.” He called out.

Andy swallowed hard as he grabbed his shirt from the floor, while you both breathed heavily.

You mirrored his actions and slipped your shirt back on. Feeling your heart beat rapidly in your chest.

This was wrong on so many levels. You were slowly falling for a guy who was older than you and worst of all, married.

“I’m so sorry, this was a mistake.” You said, starting for the front door.

Andy was torn, knowing he should’ve never crossed the line, but it was too late. There was no turning back now. And though it wasn’t right, he didn’t want to go back.

And for that, he hated himself even more.

“Y/N wait, please.”

Tears began to well in your eyes, as a lump formed in your throat. This felt worse than a break up. Worse than anything you had been through which you weren’t sure as to why.

“We can’t do this Andy, you’re married.” You forced out. “Laurie is literally upstairs.”

He had forgotten that she was in the room. Being with you, was like having tunnel vision and all he could focus on was you.

“Fuck.” He exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What the hell am I doing?”

The tears had stained your cheeks and in that moment, you were broken.

“This was a mistake.” You repeated. “You’re just hurt and confused, this isn’t your fault. I shouldn’t have—“

“Don’t you dare blame yourself for this.” He cut you off. “This is bad timing, I know. But I’m not confused.”

You wanted nothing more than to believe him. But how could you with all things considered?

“Dammit.” You whispered to yourself. “I can’t do this.”

With that, you grabbed your bag and left without saying goodbye.

Andy knew letting himself feel this way to begin with was wrong. But why did it feel so good? Kissing you, holding you, feeling you pressed against him.

Being with you, he could finally breathe. It was like coming up for air.

——

Chapter Three sneak peek

Chapter Three

[babygirlkiki1016]

Masterlist

Chapter 1: The company

Chapter 2: The Journey Begins

I pulled the rope, fastening my bag to one of the ponies. I didn't speak to anyone the next morning, besides no one was going to try to talk to me anyway. The company would only speak to their kin, and as I passed by heading to the front of the line I was given dirty looks. Except for Kili, he smiled and waved but his brother shoved his arm down, scolding him for even looking my way. I sighed and walked past some more dwarves, and each scowl gave me a funny feeling in my heart. I couldn't understand what it was, but it hurt deeply, like knives to my soul.

"Y/n." Gandalf greeted me with a smile, letting me pass by. "Once we're out of the shire, you will scout ahead and report anything back to us." He leaned down slightly, so I could only hear. "We're also making a bet on if Bilbo is coming, wish to participate?" I looked towards the rest, they all seemed to be having fun. The talk of the Hobbit showing up again brought them entertainment.

"No, we're heading into a dark path Gandalf. If I were to partake in their silly affairs I'd only ruin the fun." He groaned, standing up straight to get on his horse.

"You know, it won't hurt to have a little bit of fun. You'll be riding with Thorin, for now, being in the front will give you the advantage to take in your surroundings." He was right, in the front of the line I would be able to listen to the woods, there was something dark out there. Something will be following us, I don't know what, but whatever it is it's not good.

"Are you sure he's alright with the idea of me riding with him?" He grimaced at the question, I should have figured Thorin wasn't going to accept it.

"He's not happy, just don't antagonize him and you'll be alright." My very presence puts him on edge, speaking of the devil he came up behind me with those blue orbs piercing into mine. He didn't say a word to me, he just climbed onto his pony looking ahead. Hesitantly I go to climb on but his hand stretched out, he was waiting for me to take it.

"Hurry up we don't have all day." He growled, quickly I pulled myself on and sat in front of him. I gasped at his warmth, it felt nice with his chest against my back. "Lead." His gruff voice made me shiver, I kicked the pony lightly and she went off. We made our way down the path, passing multiple Hobbits that were nearby. One was a child, a small girl about half the size of me. She waved with a wide grin, I couldn't help but wave back eagerly. It's been a while since I've seen children, my kind barely has any men around. The cold blast killed most of our soldiers who were men, so not a lot of children are born these days. Let's just hope those reports will save my people, and we can have a fresh start with alliances. "So, does all of your kind have wings like yours?" His question surprised me, he wanted to know more about my kin? Why? Was he planning for war?

"Why do you want to know? Are you planning to kill us all already?"

"I am just curious about your race, I haven't heard much about it. From the tales my grandfather and father told me, most don't have wings unless they're born with it."

"Hm." I knew all about their race, and the fact that he wanted to know more about mine intrigued me. "Some have wings, it depends on if you have a certain gene in your blood."

"How big is your homeland?"

"It was huge, bigger than the city of Erebor. Yet where we live now, is small considering your kind took our home." I snarled, he took a deep breath, probably to calm himself. His hands then gripped my cloak, and he pulled me against his chest roughly.

"I suggest you don't annoy me, for I won't be responsible for what happens to you on this trip." He was threatening me, I bet if we were attacked he'd leave me for dead.

"And I suggest you let go of me, I won't kill you but I think you'll be fine with a few fingers missing." I turned my head to face him, he was extremely close, our noses almost touching. Reluctantly he leaned back slightly, releasing me from his hold.

"I can't wait to reclaim my homeland, then I'll have you out of my sight. I won't have to deal with your kind anymore, your murderers. I don't know what Gandalf was thinking."

"He was thinking, that your weak, too weak to take down a dragon. If you want me to help you, I recommend you be friendly for I can easily leave you behind. I'll find a way into that mountain myself, so watch your words Thorin Oakenshield." He went to protest but was interrupted by shouting, it was Bilbo running from the entrance of the shire. We were in the middle of the woods now, I pull on the reigns to stop from going any further. Bilbo ran towards us, waving the contract in his hand, panting heavily.

"I signed it." He exclaims, panting heavily as he handed the contract to Balin. Balin pulls out a monocle to check the paper. It looked like Bilbo had brought everything from home with him.

"Everything appears to be in order. Welcome, Master Baggins, to the company of Thorin Oakenshield." Balin smiles, and surprisingly it didn't disappear when his eyes met mine. The warm smile made me happy, didn't he hear the rumors people had spread about my kind? Why was he so nice to me?

"Give him a pony," Thorin ordered, nudging me to keep going which I obey.

"No, no, no, no. That-That won’t be necessary. Thank you. I’m sure I can keep up on foot. Yeah, I’ve done my fair share of walking holidays, you know? Even got as far as Frog Morton once." Bilbo refuses, but they didn't listen to his cries. Suddenly two of the dwarves grab hold of his arms, pick him up, and placed him directly on Minty. As we all rode along in the woods, I could hear the dwarves talking to each other.

"Come on, Nori! Pay up!" Oin demanded, the sound of coins clinking together reached my ears.

"The rest of the dwarves took gambles on if Mr. Baggins would show," Thorin explained, however, I already knew this due to Gandalf.

"What about you Thorin? Did you participate?" I said looking at him, he shook his head laughing slightly.

"I don't participate in silly affairs, though if I did I would've guessed he wouldn't have come." I can see how that's true, sometimes people just don't want to leave home. They'd rather stay in their safe comfy beds, and I was one of them. "You seem deep in thought." My cheeks turned red as I realized I had been staring at him the entire time.

"I'm alright." Clearing my throat awkwardly only to hear Bilbo shouting about something else.

"Uh-wait, wait. Stop! Stop! We have to turn around." Thorin groaned and I slowed the pony down, waiting to hear Bilbo's excuse.

"What on earth is the matter?" Gandalf wondered, he was riding a larger horse than the rest of us.

"I forgot my handkerchief." We can't just stop and go back because of some handkerchief, it would only be a waste of time.

"Here! Use this." Bofur rips off a bit of cloth from his robe and throws it to Bilbo, who looks at it with disgust.

"Move on!" Thorin announces, and I continue down the path of our journey. Later that night, we stopped by the entrance of a small cave. I slept close to the edge of the entrance, my wings keeping me warm and hidden from the others. That's when I heard shuffling behind me, it was Thorin setting down his sleeping bag.

"Did you miss me already?" I joked, making him roll his eyes annoyed.

"One of us has to watch you, you might try and kill us in our sleep." I just turned back around, curling back up into a small ball. It was colder outside than I expected, I should've brought warmer clothes. I shivered as a gust of wind blew our way, it took a while for me to fall asleep. The cold wasn't helping me at all, but I finally managed to sleep into unconsciousness. That is until I woke up to howls, not just any normal howls, wargs. I sat up, searching the area, getting ready to strike if I had to. The orcs were far off into the distance but I saw them, I could feel the evilness radiating off of them.

"You think that’s funny? You think a night raid by orcs is a joke?" Thorin yelled making me turn to him, he stood up abruptly, his fur coat missing. That's when I realized it was on me, he had laid his coat on me to keep me warm but why? What was his reason for being kind to me?

"We didn’t mean anything by it," Kili stated, looking down at the ground in shame.

"No, you didn’t. You know nothing of the world." Thorin angrily walks off, I had an urge to go try and cheer him up. He did give me his coat, after all, I could at least do something nice. Slowly I made my way over to him, he hadn't sensed my presence yet.

"Thorin?" I called letting out a small yawn. He didn't face me, instead, he kept his gaze pit on the horizon.

"Go away." He ordered but I refused to listen, my feet made their way next to him. He scowled at me, but said nothing else, he only just crossed his arms. His hand caught my attention, it was bigger than most, his fingers were twice the size of mine. Without thinking I tugged on it, making his eyes avert to me. I placed my hand against him, comparing the sizes. "Y/n?" He mutters, wondering what I was up to.

"Your hands, they're so much bigger than mine. For such tiny men, you certainly have large fingers, it's fascinating." I looked up at him, his eyes widened at my comment. "You know as a child I used to wonder what the tiny men of our world looked like, I tried to learn everything about dwarves that I could. My kingdom's library had multiple books about your culture, I have to admit it was interesting to learn about your courting styles."

"You know of our courting ritual?"

"Of course, I know everything about each race. I was a very strange child at that age, yet one question remained unanswered. Why do dwarves keep their hair long?" He smiled at my curiosity, those deep blue ocean eyes stared at me in adoration. Though those furious eyes returned, and he angrily pulled his hand away.

"You shouldn't be asking questions about courting, it's not as if anyone would marry your kind anyway." He lifted his hand, glaring at it in disgust. "Now I have to wash away the filth you have spread upon me." My heart broke a little as if a piece had shred from the flesh. As he stormed off I wondered what ran through his mind, he was the sweet innocent man a few seconds ago. What made him irritated with me? Thorin went back to the place we had been sleeping, and he grabbed his cloak moving to the other side of the camp. Each dwarf turned their head my way, and only three of them grinned at me.

"I'll keep watch," I spoke as I returned to my make-shift bed. It would be better if I stayed away from the others, at least that's not what Kili thought. Cause a few seconds later he plopped down right next to me. "What are you doing? Won't the others scold you for sitting next to me?"

"Who cares, they can argue all they want. No one should be alone, I'll keep watch with you." My heart swelled at his kindness, why was he being so nice to me? Did he believe me than those foolish rumors the others had heard? He frowned slightly, he was serious now. "Are you ok Y/n?"

"Of course, why wouldn't I be? I've dealt with stubborn dwarves before believe me. Their rudeness hardly bothers me anymore." I lied, staring down at my hands. How could this world think such cruel thoughts about my kind, why did Thror have to lie about us? Kili placed his hand on mine to try and calm me, and lightly he caressed it with his thumb.

"You know not all of us hate you, me, Balin, and my brother Fili we know the truth. I told my brother what you told me, and he sort of believes it. You don't seem like the angry ravaging digonisks we've heard about, and besides the reports in those mountains is evidence that your kin is innocent. Speaking of Balin however, he wanted me to tell you that when you get a chance he wishes to speak with you." I glanced over the white-haired dwarf who gave me a small smile. I wonder what he wants to talk to me about? Maybe his politeness was just a ruse to kill me in secret, what if Kili is doing the same? Ever since I've joined the company I haven't thought of the consequences, I treat them as if they're normal men. I have to be more careful if I am to get to the mountain. "You know you should probably get some sleep, we'll need those wings again."

"No, they're orcs not far, they're watching us. I need to be awake just in case they decide to come our way. I appreciate the gesture, sleep Kili, you and your kin are the most important people here after all." He opened his mouth to protest, but kept quiet and snuggled up in his bed. I kept my eyes on the frontier, watching as the orcs scattered away but I knew they would be back, they always come back.

~♪♠♪~

The harsh wind blasted against me, the building fell apart from the ice that covered the bricks. Shouts were heard from all over, but the only I could focus on was my mother's. My legs hurt bad, but her condition was worse, there was an ice shard in her side. It no longer looked like liquid water, instead, it was nothing but a melting ice block of blood.

"Mommy!" I reached out for her, my hand reaching out to try and save her from the man that stood close. His sword was raised ready to strike, and that's when I saw his face. Thorin Oakenshield, the leader of our company.

"Die filth!" His sword came crashing down hard, and as it decapitated her head I shot up. My chest beating fast, it was just a dream, just a dream. Most dwarves were asleep, the only one awake was Kili who was taking over my shift. I had fallen asleep, how could have been so stupid? He could've hurt me, or worse slaughtered me like the rest of my family. My body trembled as he came close to me, worry showing in his brown eyes.

"Kili stay back!" I warned, he raised his hands as a symbol of peace.

"I won't hurt you, I promise...are you alright?" I was shaking violently, and it wasn't because of the wind that blew our way. "Are you cold? Here." He sheds his cloak going to hand it to me but I shake my head.

"N-Nightmare." That was all I managed to get out, he dropped the piece of clothing on the floor and slowly made his way over showing that he had no weapons. When he was close enough he wrapped his arms around me, making me gasp. I didn't hug back, for I was waiting for any sign that this wasn't a nice gesture. It didn't come, he just pulled me closer, and I have to admit the hug was very helpful. I listened to his breathing, and eventually, it helped my heart stop beating at a rapid speed. He smelled of sweat and pine wood, surprisingly it was a soothing smell.

"Want to talk about it?" He whispered, pulling back to look at me as his thumb rubbed softly against my skin as a way to calm me down.

"No, it was just a silly dream. It's not as if you would care anyhow."

"I do care, and just in case another agonizing fantasy comes across your mind I'll sit right here. So if you do have another nightmare I'll be here to help." He gently pulled me into his side, which I hesitantly accepted, and soon I went senseless, succumbing to the darkness.

For the next few days when I wasn't flying above them to keep watch, I rode with Thorin. The more we rode together, the more he didn't mind it. Soon it was like second nature to him, and every morning when it was time to leave he would hold out his hand to help me on the pony. Although he was extra grumpy today as we continued our journey in the woods while riding in the torrential rain.

"Here, Mr. Gandalf? Can’t you do something about this deluge?" Dori begged, but to no avail, nothing could be done. Well at least for them, considering I was a dragon slayer and immune to fire. One of my abilities was magic, and that magic included creating ablaze. I felt Thorin shiver from behind me, and I felt bad. I never did thank him for letting me use his cloak the other night.

"Thorin take the reigns," I ordered, turning around on the horse, immediately he grabbed the reigns as I let go.

"What on earth do you think your doing woman?" He growled, his eyes piercing into my own. Resting a hand upon his chest, he blushed slightly at the contact I used just a little bit of my charms to summon some heat. "What curse are you putting on me? Get your filthy hands off of me!"

"It's not a curse, it's a spell to keep you warm you ass. Now hold still or I just might burn you." He growled and lifted his head to try and see in front of him, I wasn't that tall. After a few seconds of straining his neck to see, he eventually rested his chin on the top of my head lightly. "I'm not your headrest you know."

"Well, I can't see around your thick skull."

"It's not that big! I'm shorter than you!"

"Shorter, but your head is certainly wider. Are you sure you have a brain in there?" I burned him slightly, making him wince.

"Keep talking 'Oh great one' and see where it gets you. Your lucky I'm even giving you warmth, I could just keep it all to myself." I returned the heat to normal and leaned my head on his chest. His breathing went rigid for a second, then slowed down but his heartbeat sped up.

"...What other powers do you have?" He asked, moving closer to my hand to get warmer. I slipped it down to his side, making him jump. "Watch it."

"Other than fire, I have a vast amount of strength. I could rip a tree out of the ground, second I can fly at fast speeds while spreading my wings. Soldiers with wings are called our airborne army, they attack from above and can kill dragons a lot easier. Last but not least, only the royal line can take on the form of a dragon. At least we used to, The Power of The Black Dragon was lost long ago. It is passed down from generation to generation, but the Queen with the ability died along with it." My mother, just a year before my coronation to take on my birthright was gravely injured from the frozen blast caused by men. She passed away, I never got to tell her that I loved her. The last thing I ever said to her was 'I'm scared'. Though I will never forget her last words, 'don't take revenge.'

"How many more are there?"

"Once there were millions of us, and now because of people like you, there is only 1,000. I hope your happy, cause soon we'll be extinct."

"No, cause soon you'll get those reports. And you'll show the world the mistake we caused." He whispered, his comment made my heart swoon. Had he said what I thought he had confessed?

"Thank you." It was all I could say, I felt him smile as he wrapped his arms tightly around me. He was trying to keep me warm like I was doing to him, perhaps he's not like the monster from my dreams.

@fili-is-my-lover @kirenia15 @lunariasilver @depressedchilipepper

[tera-starstorm]

alright remember last night when i had an idea about merle (this fellow if you don't remember)? let me elaborate a little

so i think merle is actually the last known surviving member of the lost platinum clan. the platinum clan was generally cut off from the rest of the world and shunned for their beliefs. it was also much smaller than the other clans. merle was set to inherit the title of leader soon before their settlement was burned down and massacred in the dead of night by folks who did not want them around anymore, with most of the clan's very few members asleep at the time. they had no idea there was an attack planned against them, disconnected from the world as they were. they were never even prepared for an attack.

they were successful in their attempt to eliminate the platinum clan — except for one.

merle, awake with anticipation and anxiety for his upcoming duty, managed to escape with his clan's important lorebooks and the griseous core. from this point forwards he wandered until he began staying tucked away near sendoff spring.

volo, as curious as he is, learned about what happened to the platinum folk. he set off to find if any of them had survived. he knew if he found them, there was a chance he could learn more about giratina. and find merle he did. merle was delighted to make contact with another person, nevermind who didn't shun him terribly and was willing to listen to his tales. not even just willing, because volo actively wanted to hear them.

initially volo had just planned to use him as a source of information. however, he found that he actually liked merle pretty quickly; they were both relatively disconnected from people, they had lost everything in the past, they both seeked truths about the old legends, and they both strived for a better world. time spent with him transcended just an exchange of information.

it all went downhill after the incident on mt. coronet.

merle was furious. he felt used and betrayed. volo, for the first time, began to stumble. it was terribly uncharacteristic of him — he tried to explain himself, but found himself at a loss. if you wanted to erase this world, merle had asked, does that mean our time here, the space we shared, meant nothing? volo had not heard it put like that before. it did mean something, and he actually held it rather close. merle had always been one of the first people he thought of in his insistence on recreating the world. he wanted to ease his pain. he thought he'd appreciate his plan. and yet here he was, being proven wrong. between this and yasuta's insight that there can't be eternal happiness without hardship, he's starting to backslide. before he can even get a word out, merle storms off.

a long, long time passes. volo, now travelling the world, has had a lot of time to consider what he'd done with the curse of immortality. he tried to find merle for a long time, thinking he deserved an apology and a proper explanation. he could never seem to find him.

merle, on the other hand, has stayed put right where he had always been in sendoff spring. he's caught up with the times in the sense that he understands the outside world on a surface level. his living arrangements have upgraded. he lives deep within turnback cave in a small but cozy little place that can only be accessed if he or giratina wishes for it to be seen. he remains dedicated to holding the lost knowledge of giratina and keeping it alive, and for that, giratina came to connect with and protect him. this is why he continues to live.

rumors of a ghost on route 214 exist. several people have reported seeing a shadowy figure in a tattered kimono roaming the area. there's even an account of a lost child who was brought safely to the nearby resort to reunite with their parents, and this child subsequently claimed that "a ghost led them there". volo catches wind of this on one of his many trips back to sinnoh, and naturally his curiousity takes hold of him.

similar to merle's living space, spring path can only be seen nowadays if giratina or merle wishes for it. so why, pray tell, can volo see it? he is unaware that this is the case and follows the mysterious path to sendoff spring. he hasn't seen it in what feels like an eternity, not after it seemingly mysteriously disappeared.

he enters turnback cave. after only a short period of time, something appears behind him. it demands to know why he is here. volo turns around. it's a large, shadowy humanoid figure. it has tendrils sprouting from its back and pinprick red eyes that glow through the shadows, similar to those giratina has. it seems to ooze shadows, dripping from the tendrils. still, volo isn't afraid. he's more stunned than anything.

LEAVE, TRAITOR, its voice echoes, BEFORE YOU REGRET EVER STEPPING FOOT IN THIS SACRED PLACE. even through how distorted and loud it is, the voice is familiar. volo can only find one word.

merle? he asks cautiously.

the figure seems surprised. it pauses before sure enough, it begins to change and shrink. before him stands a familiar face. merle looks terribly wary, but he hasn't attacked him. instead, he crosses his arms and looks at volo like he's expecting something

seems he's got some explaining to do.

[get-u-the-m00n]

The desire to isolate myself is so intense lately that it's suffocating. How do I possibly continue trying to make friends and continue on with life when it feels like no matter what I do, I'm doing something wrong.

Life has been knocking me down relentlessly so much lately that I barely have time to catch my breath before the next thing comes and crushes me. I feel like my bones are breaking and puncturing my soul. There is very little left of my spirit these days and I don't know how to get it back.

Because any attempt taken to get it back gives people a reason to find fault in me. I can not simply just do things that make me happy and if I have to bear any more stress I will actually break. After 6 years free from self harm I found myself so low last Tuesday that I hit a breaking point and caved in. I don't have the energy to do basic tasks. I don't want to get out of bed. I force myself to do things because my girls need me and I know that but if I'm being honest, if I didn't have them here I would have been gone a long time ago.

I want to crawl inside myself and stay there for a while. I can't possibly do anything wrong if I simply don't do anything. I've debated erasing all forms of social media, all my photos, cutting everyone out of my life and just living completely isolated and just focusing on being the best mom I can be. I mean, would that be so bad?

All I ever intend to do is be the best I can for people. The best friend, mom and wife. I try so hard. I'm always consciously kind to everyone I meet, I'm friendly, I try to really listen to people, support them and do little things I know will help bring a little light to their day. So why the fuck am I so wrong? How is it that while trying to be the best possible human I can, I somehow manage to still be a monster in some people's eyes?

Something in me believes I deserve this. A deep feeling of deserving unhappiness. Other than my children, it's not like I have accomplished anything significant or contributed anything of substance to this world.

I do not let people get to close to me out of fear of being hurt or by others thinking I have ulterior motives and making me feel bad about it. Even the few people that are close to me right now, I am surely pushing them away. I made the conscious decision that if I must stay here for my children, that the best I can do is be the kindest and most selfless person that I can be but even that apparently comes with its own issues and flaws.

I'm fucking drowning.

I doubt anyone will ever read this. Nobody in my personal life really knows this page exists or if they do it's an occasional glance here and there, if that. I just don't know why I'm here. I don't want to feel as sad, lethargic and empty as I do anymore. I can not see a clear path for myself that leads to any sort of true feeling of content and happiness. I'm not naive to the fact that stress is an unfortunate fact of life and that there will always be someone or something working against me. I'm so tired. I'm just so tired.

I don't know why I'm writing this. I know that killing myself is not an option, as tempting as it is, I have a responsibility to the little humans in my life. So I guess, for the meantime. The closest I can get to relief is writing about it. Even though it will go unnoticed. Does it matter? I don't like this life that I have been brought into, the fear, the shame, the abundance of horrible people within it. I feel tremendous guilt that I brought little humans into it without fully seeing the world for what it is...

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

Dangerous Love (Pt. 10 of 13)

Pairing: Bruce Wayne (Batman) X Harley Quinn's sister!Reader

Word count: 3K

Summary: You're Harley Quinn's sister, Havoc, one of the many villain's of Gotham. But you've been caught, and has been tortured constantly for an year in Belle Reve. But when your think your life can't be anything else than the nightmare you find yourself into, Bruce Wayne, the Batman, takes you in for a project. He has a program to rehabilitate villains, and you're his lab rat. But soon enough confusing feelings start getting in the way. You know falling for Bruce is stupid. But can you keep your heart under control?

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{Justice League - DC Masterlist}

×

Absence

The first week goes by terribly slow. The second is far worse. You're currently right in the middle of the third week since Bruce went to Washington to fight an alien invasion. And there's isn't much in the news yet. On the quick talk you had with Bruce, he told you they're doing their best to deal with the situation before the world starts freaking out. These aliens look like humans, but are far stronger. And Bruce is human. He has no superpower but his intelligence, and that's worrying you to death. You know how well he can deal with this, but it's different... Now that you love him, it's different. The very thought of losing him is suffocating, unbearable. You try your best not to think about it too much, but it's a paradox. How are you supposed to stop thinking about someone who's in your head 24/7?

During this time, Alfred has been a very good company. He doesn't speak much, but with time, you notice he feels a bit more comfortable being around you. He was probably one of the many people to try and talk Bruce out of the idea of bringing you here. But you understand him. If you were in his place, you'd probably do the same.

“So, do you like me now?” You ask him, seated on the kitchen island, watching as he takes the lasagna out of the oven. You made it yourself. Alfred gave you Bruce's tablet, so you would have something to distract yourself. One of the things you started doing was cooking. You try a new recipe every day, and you think you're improving.

“I'm growing used to your presence, Miss Quinzel. And I must admit you're doing quite well considering... You know what.”

“Considering I was a criminal. Harley Quinn's sister. Sentenced to life in prison twice?” It's getting easier to talk about your old life. It doesn't mean you like it, but you don't feel so attached to it anymore. You feel like you can exist apart from it, evolve, have a different life.

“Yes.” Alfred nods.

“Did you try to make Bruce, not like me? You know... You must've noticed something.”

“The effect you had on Master Bruce was immediate.” He starts, cutting a piece of the lasagna for you and for himself. “He even thought about sending you back to Belle Reve in the beginning. Whatever that was, I thought it would vanish with time but it didn't.” He puts the plate before you, and you watch the smoke coming from it as you listen to Alfred. “I often caught him looking at nothing, daydreaming, thinking... And when I went to ask about it, the first subject was always you.”

You're blushing, biting back a smile. “How much... How much do you think he likes me, Alfred?” Lowering your voice, you look at him, who sighs.

“I think he loves you, miss Quinzel.”

“Love...” You mumble, wondering if that could be true. Guess only time will tell. And you hope you'll have time, that whichever species is threatening Earth will be defeated. “I'm scared, you know... Of what may happen.”

“Don't worry. Master Bruce always comes back.”

“That's good to know,” you whisper more to yourself than to Alfred.

The bright part of the day was that Alfred actually complimented your lasagna. And for a moment you were able to smile and forget your worries. But later, at night, you're staring at the TV, news channel on, looking for any signs of Bruce. Anything about the aliens that might mean something... But there's nothing.

“Perhaps he'll have time to call you tonight, Miss Quinzel,” Alfred says, trying to calm you down.

Bruce probably asked him to look after you, because Alfred is always around, distracting you when you're starting to overthink, or just asking if you're alright. It's kind really, but you would like it better if it was Bruce doing all of those things. “Maybe. But he's always in such a rush... I can't bear the idea of him getting hurt.”

“Master Bruce is–” The sudden change in the TV gets your attention, and you're both staring when the 'Breaking News' letters come to the screen, in bright red.

“Live from Washington. A giant being, not from Earth, just arrived. He came out of the ship that was hovering over the city and–” The woman speaks fast, and behind her, the city is up in flames. The camera moves away from her, focusing on some kind of human-like beast with gray skin and spikes coming off his body. The thing is kneeled on the ground, like a stone. “He just came out of the spaceship and destroyed a few buildings on his way. He stopped now, but the Justice League is already trying to take him down. Despite the efforts, the... Being doesn't seem to get hurt. It's just sitting there...”

Your heart is beating so loud you can't even hear the woman now. Stumbling up from the couch, you walk away from the living room until you can't hear the TV anymore.

“Miss Quinzel,” Alfred calls, and you sit on the stairs, both hands on your head.

You should be there. You've been to missions before. You could help. “Alfred, how do I get there?” You speak fast, standing up to your feet and going back to your room.

“Bruce wouldn't want you to go.”

“I don't care. I have to help him.” Being here, doing nothing as Bruce is out there fighting a freaking giant gray alien is stupid. “I know I'm only human, but–”

You're cut off by a ring coming from the tablet. It's Bruce. Running to get it from the nightstand, you breathe out relieved to see it's a video call. Sitting on the bed, you answer it. Seeing him brings a smile to your lips. He's wearing the Batman suit, but without the mask. “Bruce.” You put the tablet on the nightstand, using the lamp to support it because your hands are shaking a little.

“(Y/N). How are you?”

“I'm fine... How are you? A-are you alright?” Pulling your feet up, you hug your knees. He looks tired.

“I'm alright, don't worry about me, sweetheart.”

“How can I not worry about you? I saw it on the news, like two minutes ago... The huge gray monster, Bruce. I'm going there to help you.” You speak fast, already thinking about how you'd actually get there. A commercial flight isn't really an option, not for you.

“No, (Y/N). If you were here I'd lose focus.”

“I won't distract you, I promise. I want to help.” You beg because that's the least you can do after everything he did for you. And you'd be helping people too, after being a villain.

“If you were here I'd lose focus because I'll want to protect you. And that would become my priority.” Bruce lowers his voice, and Alfred leaves after mumbling something about giving you some privacy. “(Y/N), I need you to know that if anything happens to me, you won't go back to Belle Reve.”

“What?” What the hell does he mean by that? He can't say something like that... “No! Don't you even-don't you even... Bruce, I don't wanna hear it. You have to make it back.” You speak fast, tears in your eyes. You can't lose him just when things are just starting. This can't be the end.

“Please, (Y/N)–”

“No! I don't wanna hear it.” You yell.

“(Y/N), listen!” Bruce shouts too, his voice louder than yours. His sudden outburst shuts you up, but you're a mess, tears rolling down as you're forced to face the possibility of his death. “I will not let them put you back in that prison. So I made plans just in case...” He makes a pause. “You'd live with a friend of mine. Well, with his mother on a farm in Smallville. It's a beautiful place. You'd have a calm life, but I must ask you not to startle Martha too much.”

“I don't wanna go anywhere, Bruce,” you beg, drying off some tears. “I just want you to come back.”

“I know, my love. But I had to do this. I would never leave you unprotected.” He gets tense suddenly when an explosion happens. “And I will leave you my money. To you and Alfred. You'd have all the means to rebuild your life as you want. In the farm or somewhere else. Study, buy a nice house–”

“Screw your money, Bruce. I want you!”

Another explosion and someone calls him. “I have to go... Take care of yourself, (Y/N).”

“Please, be careful.” I love you. The sentence comes to the tip of your tongue again, but you hold it back. “Come back to me.” You're still speaking when the connection is cut.

You just stay here, paralyzed, looking at the screen where Bruce was seconds ago. He was there, so close yet so far...

Time starts passing by in a blur. You stopped watching TV because you don't want to know what's happening out there. If Bruce dies... Alfred will be the one to tell you. And whatever comes next, it won't matter. At first, you were angry, furious, certain that you'd leave the mansion and head back to your old lair, straight back into your old life. But as the days go by, and turn into weeks, you realize you can't do that. You can't undo what Bruce did like it was nothing. You know that, if the worst happens, you'd want to honor the memory of the man you love. So you'd go to the stupid farm, live the rest of your days remembering the days you spent here, the few kisses you shared.

Sometime in the numbness, you made your way down to the cave, where you started putting all your anger, fear, and desperation on a punching bag. It soon became a daily activity, and it didn't take long until the skin on your knuckles broke. Alfred taught you how to wrap a bandage around your fists to help with the impact, but even so, the blood soon started to soak the white fabric. Bruce will be happy to know that you didn't revert back to your old ways... If he ever has the chance to know.

Today, almost a month after your last video call, you're cleaning your knuckles carefully, gasping when the pain hits. The skin is basically gone, and it's a nightmare just to clench your fists. But it's the only way you can cope. Pain is the only way you know how to deal with everything you're feeling. And above all that, you're feeling dizzy, sore. It's so damn cold today, but you refuse to take a coat with you because you'll warm up as soon as start punching the bag. With one last look in the mirror, you leave the bathroom, taking the bandages and wrapping them around your hands. You hear low voices, chattering, coming from downstairs. Did Alfred invite someone? Nobody came here since Bruce left.

Bruce... You're going crazy because you swear to God you hear his voice among the others. “Get it together. Don't think too much.” You repeat to yourself the motto you made, saying it again and again for the last weeks. “Get it together.” But you hear it again, and low footsteps.

You're telling yourself not to do this, that it's probably just your mind playing tricks, but you're soon at the hall, the voices filling your ears as you walk fast to the stairs. You're halfway there when you see him, climbing the last steps. You stop on your tracks, too scared to be seeing a ghost, a hallucination. Impulse wins over fear, and you're running towards him, too scared to reach nothing. But your heart stops and you start crying when you reach flesh, and you immediately jump onto his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist. He's quick to hold you, sustaining your weight.

“Are you really here?” You mumble, your voice is weak and a little affected by the crying.

“I'm here. I'm back, sweetheart. It's over.”

You pull away just enough to kiss him, to make sure this is not a dream. You can feel your heart beating violently, and the kiss has to be brief because you're having a hard time catching your breath.

“Oh, my.” Someone says, and something gets your attention downstairs. When you look, you see the small group of people responsible for the chattering. The so-called Justice League. You jump down, suddenly noticing how you were clinging into Bruce.

“I didn't know you had company,” you mutter, fixing your hair. Bruce suddenly takes one of your hands, and then the other one.

“What's that?” He asks.

“I was on the verge of going mad so I befriended one of your punching bags.” As you speak, Bruce starts unwrapping the bandage, and you sigh because you didn't want him to see what's underneath.

“(Y/N).” He exclaims to see the wounds, the basically inexistent skin on your knuckles, and some blood already.

“I know, Bruce, I just... I didn't know what to do and... This is–” You're aware of the eight pairs of eyes on you. “You should give your friends some attention,” you whisper.

“Excuse me for a moment.” Bruce raises his voice before pulling you with him, back into the bedroom.

He's silent as he treats the wounds. It hurts like hell, so you bite your lip. The bandage he puts on is a different type, and then he wraps it all around your hand, and in between your fingers. He also applied some moisture to help the healing process. “Why did you do that?”

“Because that's the only way I know how to cope.” Bruce sits on the bed beside you, and you turn your body towards him. “I was... I was mad because I finally fell in love with someone and he could die, I...”

“Hey, let's not talk about it now, ok?” He brings his hand to your face, and you missed his touch so much. But there's a weird expression on his face, and his hand moves to your neck. “You're hot.”

“What?” You don't follow the sudden change.

“You have a fever.”

“Oh... Really? I didn't notice.” Well, you noticed the soreness and dizziness, and how your body has been weaker in the last two days.

Bruce goes to the bathroom again and comes back handing you a pill. “This will help lower your fever. Now come, let's get you a glass of water and introduce you to the League.”

He reaches out his hand and you take it. “Are you going to introduce me to them?”

“Of course.”

You take another route so you'll pass through the kitchen first. And then you make your way to the living room. Bruce is still holding your hand, and you're sure that won't go unnoticed. “Bruce, I think you should let go of my hand. They'll think we're together.” You whisper, forcing him to slow down his pace.

“They just saw us kissing. And you jumping in arms.” He stops, looking down at you.

“Oh... Sorry about that, I didn't know they were looking.”

“Do you think I'll hide our relationship?” Bruce furrows his eyebrows a little, his fingers caressing your chin.

“Won't you?” You was expecting that. You didn't think Bruce would ever let whatever is happening between you to get outside this mansion.

“Of course I won't.” He bends over to kiss you and you tiptoe to meet his lips halfway. “Now, come. They're excited to meet you.”

“Why would they be excited to meet me?” You mutter, shrugging your shoulders.

When you get to the living room, all eyes fall on you. Maybe they're curious to know the criminal Bruce sheltered. “(Y/N), these are Clark, Arthur, Diana, and Barry. Everyone, this is (Y/N) Quinzel.“ Bruce says, and you step forward to shake their hands.

“Hi,” you mumble, clearing your throat. “It's nice to meet you, guys. I've seen you on TV.”

“I've seen you on TV too,” Barry speaks up. “No offense.”

“None taken. Don't worry.” You assure him. “I made peace with my past.”

“So... You two, huh?” Arthur says with a smirk. He's holding a huge Trident, and you have no idea why he has this thing here with him.

“Bruce here couldn't stop talking about you," Diana says with a smile, and the others nod and giggle. They seem eager to embarrass Bruce somehow. But you're sure you're the one blushing because it's good to know that he was thinking about you as much as you were thinking about him.

“Age gap. Hot.” Arthur winks at you. Or at Bruce, you're not sure. And it only takes three words to make everyone a little uncomfortable.

“Arthur, would you shut up?” Diana gives him a hard stare.

“Can you talk to fish?” You ask him, trying to change the focus of the subject.

“In a way, yes.”

“That's cool. In an away.” Shrugging your shoulders and giving him a small smile, you exchange a glance with Bruce as the others giggle again.

“Sassy. We'll get along just fine.” Barry exclaims, high-fiving you.

“Well, you're welcome to stay as long as you want before you need to head back to you... Jurisdictions.” Bruce announces. “And as long as you don't say stupid things to my girlfriend.”

“He's talking to you, Arthur.” Clark comments.

“So you guys are officially dating?”

“Of course they are, Barry. Batman here couldn't seem to think about anything else than her during the whole mission.” Diana says in a sassy tone.

“Alright,” Bruce speaks up, sighing. “Make yourselves comfortable. Come, sweetheart.”

“It was nice to meet the girl who stole Batman's heart,” Arthur says as you start walking away with Bruce.

“Woman.” You correct him as you wave.

Bruce takes you upstairs again, and you can't help but smile like an idiot. You feel your cheeks warm, but you're not sure if it's the fever or if you're just blushing. Instead of stopping by your bedroom, Bruce keeps guiding you through the hall. Before you can say anything, he opens a door for you.

“I need a warm shower and attend to a few wounds. Thought you'd like to be around.” When you step in, you realize you've never been in his bedroom. It's huge. The bed seems to be twice the size of yours, and there's a lounge near a big window with a couch and a TV. “Make yourself comfortable.”

“Ok.” He places a soft kiss on your lips before heading to the bathroom. There's another door here, which probably leads to a closet. But you don't want to intrude, so you just seat on the edge of his bed.

After a few minutes though, you can't help but wander around a little, looking at his stuff. It kinda feels like Bruce is allowing you to get to know him better, to get closer... A while after you end up by his nightstand, taking a picture up to get a closer look. It's a child Bruce, with his parents.

“I see you already met Martha and Thomas Wayne.” His voice scares you and you put the picture down.

“Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing, (Y/N).” Bruce touches your arm, pulling you closer. You see a purple bruise on his neck, coming from his shoulder.

“You're hurt,” you say, pulling the collar of his shirt away so you can have a better look.

Bruce takes your hands in his, placing a kiss on the bandage wrapped around your knuckles. “I'm fine. Don't worry about me.”

“But–”

“Come here.” He pulls you towards the bed, sitting down, his back against the headboard. Taking a deep breath, you sit before him, but he keeps pulling you until your back is resting against his chest. “I fought a giant gray alien so I just want to sit here with you for a while.”

You smile to feel his arms around you, keeping you close, safe. You're very, very comfortable here, but you have to do something. So you move, turning around to face Bruce.

“What?”

“Sorry, but I have to kiss you.”

“Alright, but stop apologizing, ok? There's no reason to.” As he speaks, Bruce pulls you closer, a finger under your chin.

“Ok,” you mutter, smiling and slowly giving in into the kiss.

×

@fionanovasleftnut @glitterypinkkitty @mybabyboytony @chipster-21 @agustdpeach @yaakimoon2 @chloe-skywalker

[imaginejamesandsirius]

Hi! I'm new to this and I don't know if I'm doing this right... Could you write a story about ghost James (not really come back as a ghost in wizard way but more like a ghost in muggle stories, the kind that no one can see and can't really do anything) watching (and maybe staying with) Sirius through the years and finally reunite with him behind the veil? And they live happily ever after in the other side?Thank you!

James hated it when Sirius was sad. It was his number one least favourite thing in the world. It was horrible to see. James was pretty sure that it started to rain specifically because Sirius was in a bad mood, sometimes. His proof of that was that it had never been sunny when Sirius was sad, and that was good enough for him. When Sirius was sad, it's like the whole planet sagged to join him in grief. He'd said that to Remus once, and Remus had replied that James couldn't possibly be more in love if he tried; James was pretty sure that his response to that had been that everyone could stand to be more in love with Sirius. 

Point is, Sirius was sad, and it was James's fault. He couldn't make it better, and that was almost worse. There had been times, during first their friendship then their romantic relationship, that he'd made Sirius sad. Some stupid fight or other, and he would make Sirius cry because Sirius hated when they fought. He'd made Sirius sad before, but he'd never been incapable of comforting him afterwards. 

He was dead. Sirius couldn't hear him or feel him. It didn't matter what James did, because as far as Sirius was concerned, nothing at all was happening. James could scream in his ear, and Sirius would hear nothing but waves and the distant echoes of the other prisoners. He knew this for a fact; he'd tried. Just in case. No one knew about the kind of ghost that he was, and he wasn't going to let Sirius be miserable just because he hadn't thought to try. 

It had taken him a minute to understand what had happened when he appeared by Sirius's side. The details around his death were a bit fuzzy. He couldn't really remember what had happened, and he wasn't sure he wanted to. From the absolutely haunted expression on Sirius's face, it didn't seem like something he'd appreciate remembering. 

It took James less than two days to figure out that nothing he did would get through to Sirius. Instead of constantly pestering him, he decided to do things that would make Sirius feel better. He talked. Shared stories even though they were all stories he'd heard before or had been there for. 

After a couple weeks, James figured out how to make himself basically solid. It didn't help Sirius it all, but it made James feel better. He could lean his head against Sirius's shoulder without falling straight through him. 

On the one hand, it was nice to be able to see Sirius even though he was dead. Spend time with him. On the other hand, he was pretty sure this was a version of hell. What had he done to get placed next to the person he loved most, but completely unable to communicate with him? He didn't know how he really felt about it. Twelve years of thinking about it, and he still didn't know. 

*

James talked to hear his own voice. It's not like Sirius could hear him and feel better to know that he wasn't entirely alone. 

Sometimes he felt like Sirius could hear him. Not as he was-- standing beside him-- but like a whisper to his conscience. An errant thought in his head that took purchase. It was wishful thinking, James knew that, but it made his existence feel important. Sirius didn't lay flat to stretch his legs because James said he should; he did it because he'd been curled up in a ball for so long that he was uncomfortable. 

It still made James feel better. 

*

"Er, Sirius? Is it just me, or does that look like Peter?" James asked, tilting his head to get a better look at the photo in the Prophet. Fudge wasn't holding it at the best angle for Sirius, but Sirius was smart; he saw it. He asked for the paper, and Fudge handed it right over. 

James grinned at Sirius. "That's my Padfoot. Let's get out of this hellhole. It was putting you in a worse mood than normal." Not that there was any good measure for that. It had been so long since Sirius had been in a normal place that James only had memories for what it was like to see him smile. When the minister visited, the Dementors had to stay back a certain amount; it's why Sirius made conversation instead of telling him to bugger off, but it didn't exactly make him happy. He was just... less miserable. 

*

If anyone could see James right now, they'd probably say that since he wasn't happy with what he was doing, he should stop. That was a load of bullocks. He was dead, what did it matter if he wasn't completely happy? His happiness was a non-issue. He had an entire afterlife that he could enjoy when Sirius was around to enjoy it with him. For now, it was more important to him that he keep an eye on Sirius. Even if he couldn't effect the world around him at all, he liked knowing what was going on. 

There was a paralyzing fear in the back of his mind that if he left now, he'd never be able to find Sirius again.

*

"No no no," James said frantically, staring at where Peter transformed and ran away. He tried tugging on Sirius's arm, but obviously he couldn't feel it. "Sirius, he's getting away!" 

But Sirius was more focused on making sure that Moony was okay and that the kids weren't going to get hurt-- or killed-- to worry about the way his own future was going. 

It had run away. Peter was slippery. It was a miracle that they'd found him the first time, and James was certain that they wouldn't be able to find him a second time. In another life, James would be able to feel something like sympathy for him. In this life-- his afterlife, Sirius's first still-- he couldn't manage it. James had been beside Sirius for nearly every second of Azkaban, and there was no forgiving someone who put you in there. 

Peter vanished, less than a speck in a dark night on a black ground, and James wanted to scream. So he did. 

*

"This cave is depressing. I feel like you could find a better hiding spot." 

Sirius glanced towards where the castle was, and James nodded. 

"Yeah, I guess you wouldn't be this close to Harry anywhere else. I still think it's pretty damn risky. You should be on the beach. Soaking up the sun after so many years in Azkaban. I swear, that place is better classified as a dungeon. You could lay on the sand. Get some shades. Listen to your bloody muggle music and just breathe for once." 

Sirius wrung his hands in the way that meant he was thinking about Harry. Worrying about him. Even if he went to the beach, he wouldn't be able to relax. He'd be there, wondering how Harry was doing. Wishing he could take him away but unable to do so. Sirius could make his way on his own in large part because he could turn into Padfoot, but Harry couldn't do that. A boy with a dog drew more attention than just a dog, not to mention that no one would just let Harry go missing. 

*

Lily showed up once. James just about jumped out of his skin when she appeared on Sirius's other side at the long dining table in Grimmauld Place. "So this is where Sirius grew up," she mused, looking around at the décor. "Sort of explains why he was such a pretentious git when we were kids." 

James stared at her for a long moment. "How are you here?" 

"I don't really know," she said, frowning. "I thought about you, wondering where you were and." She held up her hands in a ta-da sort of way. "I should've guessed it was with Sirius." 

"Are you going to stay?" he asked. 

"I don't think I can. I'm here to visit. I visited Harry for a while, but I got... kicked away after a couple days. It's the longest I can stay before I have to take a break. I have no idea how you've managed to do this for the entire time." 

"I haven't done anything," James argued. "I just woke up next to Sirius and never left." 

"You woke up next to him?" Lily asked, eyebrows raised. 

"Appeared next to him, whatever." 

"No, that's not what I- Merlin, James. I always knew that you and Sirius were strangely close; I just didn't realise... well. Never mind. How's it been?" she asked, turning her attention to the man sat between them that couldn't hear a single word that was being said. 

"Rough. He was in Azkaban for a murder he didn't commit, and now he's a fugitive because he broke out." 

"He broke out? Of Azkaban? How the bloody hell did he do that?" 

"That's a Marauder trade secret, Lils. Can't tell." 

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You're so full of shite." 

"Yep." 

She glanced at Sirius again, and her expression softened to something sympathetic. "It's been that bad?" 

"Yeah." James sighed, patting Sirius on the shoulder even though he couldn't feel it. "Yeah, it's been... not good." 

*

Sirius got hit with a spell, and he was falling, and James knew that it wouldn't do any good but still tried to catch him. 

Only it worked. Sirius landed in his arms, a heavy, warm weight. Sirius was as surprised by it as James. He tilted his head up and broke into a gut-wrenching smile. Equal parts sad and hopeful. "James?" 

James mirrored the expression. He'd wanted Sirius. Not like this, though. Sirius was supposed to get his name cleared and live with Harry. He was supposed to have another seventy years alive so that he could remember what it was like to not be caged up. He wasn't supposed to meet James this soon. James even knew how he wanted for it to happen. Sirius was supposed to be free and happy, and then James would move on; Sirius wouldn't need him watching anymore because he'd be fine, and he could catch up with Lily-- see if she knew anything about this whole being-dead thing. "Hullo love." 

*

It took Sirius a long time to stop marveling at the fact that he could now touch James and talk to him. In his own way, James was doing the same thing. He'd gotten so used to Sirius not being able to hear anything he said that he was pretty sure he hadn't shut up for the last twenty minutes, just so he could hear Sirius hum or say 'yeah' as he talked. 

"How do you know all of that?" Sirius interrupted at some point. James had sort of been ranting at him for staying in Azkaban for so long, and then going to Grimmauld Place afterwards. Historically, those were the worst two places in Britain. 

"I was with you." 

"You mean, like, watching me?" Sirius asked, tilting his head slightly as he tried to wrap his head around it. 

"No, I mean that I was with you. Since your first week in Azkaban." 

"You... the whole time?" Sirius asked, voice breaking. 

"Yeah," James said, giving him a small smile. "I couldn't leave you alone, Sirius. You were sad. I can't leave my Padfoot alone when he's sad." 

Sirius pulled him in for another hug even though they'd never really let go of each other, clenching so tightly that James wouldn't have been able to get away even if he wanted to-- and he didn't. He could stay this way forever. 

[teenage-fanbitch]

you left me in this broken world

Fandom: Dream SMP

Word count: 2317

Please remember that this fanfic is about the characters of the SMP, it is not about the content creators and should not be interpreted as suh. There are no romantic relationships in this fanfic because 1. I don't know if the ccs are comfortable with that and 2. I wrote this about their character's friendship.

-----

It was awkward when they first met. At least, for her it was. Will never had issues with meeting new people, he'd just be talking and talking until eventually the person in question talked back.

Maybe it was the way Phil raised him, or maybe he was just born like that. It didn't matter to Niki, because her friend would always smile.

That was something she never seemed to grow tired off. Not back when they first met, not now, not ever.

Things were easier back then, though. Will would sing for her, and they'd dance and laugh their sorrows away.

They'd lost that, somewhere along the way, and she longs to get it back.

They've been through everything together, been through fire and rain for the other. Perhaps it's why she can't handle being away from Will, from the person she considers her brother.

It's not as if she doesn't want him to have this, to create a home for himself, to be free from the voices haunting him in his sleep.

"You deserve the world, Niki."

She remembers watching him softly play a beautiful tune, remembers him warming her frozen fingers, remembers that those hands were not made for war.

"So do you."

-----

They reunite, eventually. She joins the SMP and jumps into Will's arms the moment she sees him. There's a faint smell of battle lingering in his hair, but that doesn't matter, because at least he's still here.

It's fun, walking around L'Manberg with Tommy excitedly telling her the story behind every building.

She understands why Will thinks of him as his little brother, because while Tommy may be annoying, it's endearing to watch him flounder around.

It doesn't calm the raging storm in her, because Tommy's a child, and he just fought in a war, fought for everything he believed in, and he'd died for it.

He'd died for a home.

And Niki will do anything to give her friends one. It doesn't matter if she's known them for years or just met them, they all deserve a place to be happy.

L'Manberg is her everything. It's a place she can annoy Will, can ruffle Tommy's hair, can pass Tubbo a smile, can joke around with Fundy, and can talk for hours on end with Eret, because even they deserve a friend.

Everyone deserves a friend.

-----

Her home is gone the second Schlatt took place on the podium. She's seen bad people before, seen their smirks, the hunger in their eyes, their desire to get what they want.

She's never seen it directed at Will. Everyone loved the boy who played music at the park, who smiled at every person he came across, if only to make their day a tiny bit better. She's never met anyone who looked at him like he needed to be destroyed.

Her hope is gone the second Schlatt banishes her friend. She's seen Will scared before, seen him at his lowest point, but nothing could prepare her for this.

This is Will's home, he fought tooth and nail for it, fought with everything he had. And now it's gone. Her friend loses it all in just a split second, and she can't help but cry his tears.

L'Manberg is gone the second its flag burns. This isn't what L'Manberg was meant to be, was meant to become. This is corruption, and if there's one thing Niki refuses to let happen, it's her friends losing themselves because of it.

-----

There are times when she feels like it's better this way, like Schlatt is a better leader than Will ever could be. Manburg is thriving, and nothing too bad seems to have happened.

But then she hears Quackity scream at Schlatt, and she sees the bottles of alcohol scattered across the white house. She spots Tubbo sneaking away, hands shaking with fear. She sees the hardened eyes of Fundy as he looks at the flag.

She sees herself, sitting at the L'Mantree, looking at where the walls used to be. This is their tree. Except it isn't really theirs anymore, is it?

There were times when they'd come to the tree when she'd listen to Will rant about governing, when Will would sing her a song after a nightmare and she'd finally be able to rest. But Will is gone now, and she's all alone again.

She wants it back. She wants her friend back.

-----

People always tell her she's too kind for her own good, that she wouldn't see an absolute asshole if they'd be standing right in front of her.

But it's not that she doesn't see it, or purposely ignores it. Even the most hated people can have a heart.

The citizens of L'Manberg hate Eret, warned her for the king, but she didn't listen.

Because she knows that deep down, Eret still has loyalty, still has something to fight for, still has a heart.

Even the worst people can be saved. That's what she always thought. But not now, as she stands in front of Schlatt and all she sees is rotten.

Schlatt doesn't deserve her kindness. Not after everything he'd done to her, to everyone. The first punch was one of anger, the second one of hatred, the third one of sadness, and by the fourth one she's lost it.

She's crying and punching and she doesn't even notice when her punches only hit air, when she's dragged away and all that is left are tears as she stares at the bars of her jail cell.

-----

Nothing has ever mattered more to her than this. Not when Tubbo is covered in burn scars, when Tommy is no longer bouncing around, when Quackity is silently standing in a corner, and Fundy looks at her like he doesn't know if it was worth it.

She doesn't either. Will has lost it, he wears insanity in his eyes and once she thought she could fix that, could convince him that it was going to be fine.

But she can't, can she? She hadn't missed his coldness towards Tommy, his not caring about Tubbo, his distrust of Fundy. Even Technoblade was worried about him, even Technoblade thought he was too far gone.

Nothing has ever mattered more to her than this, because maybe getting L'Manberg back will get her her brother back, will save him from whatever is destroying him.

-----

They won. L'Manberg is back in their hands and there's still hope. They can make this place a home again.

And so they remove the decorations, remove everything that has something to do with Manburg, with that vile memory.

She's the first to spot the TNT. No one else noticed, and she doesn't want them to. They're finally laughing and she doesn't want to ruin that. So she covers it up, she pretends like it isn't there because they're safe, right?

Until Technoblade breaks. And then so does Tommy, and Tubbo, and all of her friends. They all break.

And so does she, once she realises Will isn't there, because that can only mean one thing. She wasn't able to save him.

-----

She knows Will was gone long before, knows this is probably what he wanted, but she can't help her aching heart the second Phil puts his sword through her friend's chest.

She loved her brother more than anything in the world, and now he's gone. Killed by his own father, by one of the few people that knew how much he was actually hurting.

There's a scream on her lips, and she doesn't care if it gets out, because Will was the one person that had always been there for her, that promised to never leave her. And now he's dead. He's gone and he's not coming back and that scares her.

So she screams and she cries it all out, she doesn't fight the withers, doesn't care if they'll kill her.

Her throat aches and her eyes burn, and it's all Phil's fault. He's the one who did this to her, the one who took her home.

And she screams a little louder.

-----

She finds herself sitting at the L'Mantree again, reminiscing about a past time. Back when Will was still in charge, and they'd be looking at their country, and everything would be okay.

Back when Will would lend her an old coat of his to keep her warm. Now she stole the coat herself, she'd grabbed it from his body, had ruffled his hair one last time, and ran away with tears in her eyes.

She doesn't care that the coat is covered in blood, because it still smells like Will, and it still makes her feel safe.

And safety is something she hasn't felt in a while. Tommy looks so lonely without Will, Tubbo looks too small to wear a presidential coat, Quackity looks so quilty walking around town, Fundy looks so broken and grown up, Phil looks so quilty every time he spots the cave.

And Niki looks at New L'Manberg, and she feels the need to run.

-----

The first sign is the flag. It's a nice flag, and it's good to have something to symbolise a change, that they're not the same.

But it still pains her to see a part of Will disappear. He didn't get a grave, didn't get a memorial, it's like his memory was stained, like he was never even there.

The second sign is when Tommy's exile. It's fair, in a way, but the boy doesn't deserve this. Nobody deserve to relive their trauma like that.

Tommy's irrational actions have hurt a lot of people, but this was still his home, and it wasn't fair of them to take it away from him.

The third sign is the butcher army. Sure, Technoblade isn't exactly innocent, but they'd treated him like he wasn't even human, like he was less than a beast.

And while she may not have liked Phil, may be unable to look the man in the eye, they'd clipped him from his wings and chained him to his house.

L'Manberg was supposed to be free, a way to leave all that cruelty behind. And look at it now, look at what there is left of the nation Will had promised her, the nation he had build with his own two hands.

-----

She sheds no tears when New L'Manberg inevitably falls. This country has been walking a fine line for months now, it's not the place Will had promised her anymore.

It's not. Fundy knows it, Eret knows it, even Tommy and Tubbo know. It's not worth her tears, not worth for her to spill her heart.

So she burns it down. Drops some TNT when she feels like it, because she wants to be a part of its downfall, wants to destroy the thing that had taken so much from her.

The battle has already been lost when she spots the tree, spots the one thing that had remained the same through all these years, and she remembers sitting here and smiling.

Now she watches the tree burn, watches all the memories and all the suffering turn to ashes. Because, even if she had called this place home, had loved its inhabitants, it was never meant to be.

-----

She freezes. Of course she does, because she knows that sweater, knows that beanie, knows who it belongs to. She doesn't know that skin, can't know that skin.

Fundy told her Ghostbur had helped with the renovation, but it couldn't be true, could it? Will is dead, he's gone.

He would've come back for her if he was still here. Ghost or not.

He would've.

It must've been her imagination playing tricks on her, there's no yellow sweater, no red beanie, no Ghostbur.

So she does the one thing she knows how to do. She runs away from her problems once again, doesn't look back, and sets the world further ablaze.

Her world. His world.

Their world.

-----

It starts making sense now. She finally gets why Tubbo exiled Tommy. Sure, he abided Dream in doing so, what only worsened the situation, but she does get it.

Tommy started this whole thing. He considered the discs worth more than anything his friends worked their asses off for. He kept aggravating Dream. He took away everything from her.

Maybe things would be better off without Tommy, maybe Will would've still been at her side if it weren't for him. Maybe Tommy should just die.

-----

The plan doesn't work. Either because Tommy knows what's up or he's just the most lucky bastard on this server.

It hurts to see him like this, though, so insufferably annoying. Because this is the Tommy she first met, the boy who was so bright and had no idea what the future would hold.

How much suffering he'd put everyone through.

She can't stand his innocence, his ignorance, she can't stand him.

"I hate you!" She does, doesn't she? "You left me behind, Will!" But she's not talking to Will, is she? "Tommy. I meant- I meant Tommy."

She takes a few steps back, shakes her head as brown hair returns to blonde, and she doesn't stop the tears that fall.

-----

It's only in her dreams that she finds peace. She doesn't get many of them, she barely sleeps anyway, but when she finally drifts off and it's not the usual nightmares that plague her, she can't help but smile.

It's all a dream, she knows that, but everything is better than her reality, everything is better than the endless cycle of hurt.

So when she spots the L'Mantree still standing, and it's Will welcoming her with open arms, she gives in. She hugs him tight and while it may not be real, it's still Will.

It's still safe.

"Maybe I'll join you some day, Will. Then we can laugh like we used to, sing some songs. We can be free again."

-----