Hm yes about HMDB… it’s still in the works. I swear I will not leave it permanently unfinished!

The unfortunate part is, the reason I haven’t been able to add anything since the Bang is that my health has been taking an absolute swan dive. And by “absolute swan dive,” I mean that there was a day last week where 8 separate people came up to me at my job and asked if I needed to go to the hospital. Eight people. (man do I wish I was exaggerating) And I was feeling pretty good that day compared to some other recent days. So, writing really hasn’t been much of an option for me these past few months, and I’m trying not to get my hopes up for the couple of free days I have coming up.

Uh. Anyway. TLDR; chronic illness/pain sucks, go shower Gatoma and Mystery with love for their epic art, more Hold My Dying Breath…. someday. ✌️

1. marking

billy lenz x gn!reader | nsfw |

“d-do you have to go…?”

billy knew the words cut through you. he could see it in the way you tensed, hand resting on the knob of the front door, clenching as you hesitated in actually turning it. if you turned around, it would only be worse. his pout was like your kryptonite. the way his eyes got big, and his voice softened to nothing but a whimper… he knew it was mean pulling out tactics like this, but he had no other choice.

well, that wasn’t entirely the truth. he could choose to let you go out with your friends without making a fuss. he could choose to survive a few hours without you, and find some other activity to do. he had taken up crochet, he liked to watch cartoons while he did it. he had chores he could be getting done, he hadn’t managed to get a load of laundry in that day. he could distract himself. he wouldn’t, though. he was choosing to guilt-trip you, and forget about the little bit of shame that came with it.

“i already told you, billy,” you began, turning around to face him. you looked so nice. you had gussied up, making sure your hair was done nice and your outfit was perfect. he had only ever seen you do that when you two were having date nights. he wasn’t used to seeing you doing it just go out with buddies. he didn’t see the need; why work so hard to impress people you couldn’t even cum in? “i’ve been putting this off for awhile. i miss them, and they miss me. i have to go.”

“oh…” he stuck out his bottom lip a bit more, looking up at you through his eyelashes. he knew how to strike your chords- he was plucking them like they were a harp. he could see it. you flexed your hands by your sides, and chewed on your bottom lip. billy wanted to urge you on, whisper ‘come on, come on… stay, stay, stay’ but he couldn’t be so obvious. no, this was a patience game. he just had to wait, and keep moving his pieces slowly and steadily.

“come on… don’t make that face,” you whined, pinching his cheeks between your fingers. he kept his gaze away from yours, keeping them trained down at the space between you too. it made you groan. “i won’t be that long. it’s only dinner, i’ll be back before bed. way before that! we can watch a movie or something when i get home. that sounds nice, right?”

billy glanced up at you. he was winning, he could feel it. you rested your hands on his shoulders, squeezing some comfort into the muscles there. he liked it when you touched him, even when it was in these circumstances. you were so firm, but so… soft. everything about you, even the sturdy bits, were soft and plush-like in billy’s eyes.

“can’t- can’t i come?” he mumbled. he began fiddling with the bottom of your shirt, rubbing the fabric between his fingers. it was soft too- nice and smooth. it was a nice shirt, one of the ones he wasn’t allowed to make messy or rip up after your date nights. something curled in the bottom of his stomach. you shouldn’t have been wearing it then. you should get different clothes, special clothes for only friendly things. these were his. you were his.

“do you even want to?”

he paused at the question. you had a point. he didn’t. but he also didn’t want to be without you. he felt embarrassed by the need, but it was only a pin prick in comparison to the ache he felt when thinking about you not being here.

you saw his hesitation. it felt like when you taught him chess, and you’d see his strategy from a mile away. the tides of the game began to turn.

“listen, i can’t stay. you know that, i know that… but! how about we make this a little more fun for both of us?” you offered a smile, brushing some of his hair behind his ear. you cupped his face and forced him to look at you, and he could see the glint in your eyes. it made his pulse quicken. it was that little sparkle in your expression, the mischievousness behind your grin, that made his heart thump hard behind his ribs.

“make it… fun?” he tilted his head questioningly, pulling you close by the bit of your shirt still in his clutches. fun meant sex, that wasn’t hard for him to figure out. or, at least, it meant something close to it.

“yeah! i was thinking,” as you spoke, you twirled a strand of his hair around your finger, “you always talk about marking me. you do it all the time, and i love it, but i never really have anyone to show it off to. how’re people gonna know i belong to you if they never actually see?”

billy felt confusion for a moment. he loved marking you up. he loved biting into your soft flesh, and watching it bruise. he loved seeing you walk around the house, wearing barely anything, flaunting those pretty little accessories only he could give you. he liked knowing that if anyone saw you, they’d see you were already accounted for. but, he also could acknowledge that with how little you actually went out, who was actually seeing you?

with all those thoughts swirling in his head, you had inched closer to his king. you were closing in, and winning a game you didn’t even really know you were playing. or maybe you did, and billy didn’t give you enough credit.

“why don’t you mark me up before i leave, huh? let’s make sure people know i have a big, handsome man waiting at home for me…”

your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him in close to your body. his hands moved from where they were playing with your shirt, to holding you by the hips, pushing himself closer to your warmth. he pressed his mouth to your jaw, letting his lips rest there for a moment while he gathered his thoughts. he wanted to mark you so badly, but doing that meant that you’d still leave after. but at the same time, he was throbbing from the thought of you being seen with his symbols of possession dappling your skin. he almost wanted to make you wear a collar out too, one of the ones that had his name on the tag (a special valentine’s gift many moons ago).

you leaned back enough that you could see his face. he bit his lip hard, trying not to succumb to his own desires. he couldn’t give in. you’d leave if he did, that wasn’t an option…

“please, billy…? make me pretty? i want all of my friends to know i have the best man in the world…” you spoke with your lip sticking out in a pout, just like he had done.

well played, he thought. he grumbled something under his breath, and you almost thought he had said ‘you win’, before he was attacking your neck with his teeth. it started gentle enough. he dragged his canines along the expanse of your throat, feeling you swallow hard underneath his lips. he let his tongue trail behind his teeth, using it to watch for those little reactions your muscles gave to his teasing touch. soon, he found what he was looking for, and he sank a bite into a sweet spot near your jugular.

you moaned softly, pulling his body closer to yours. you leaned back against the door, allowing him to sandwich you in between his body and the wood. he slotted himself between your legs, wiggling a bit until he could feel your heat right up against his own crotch. he groaned a little himself, his hands running down to squeeze hard at your thighs, wanting to leave indents of his fingertips.

he began biting and sucking along more of your flesh, drinking in every little gasp and whimper you gave out. he knew you so well by now. he had each pleasure point mapped out in his brain. he hit each one, biting along your neck and down your shoulders, over your collarbone and down to whatever skin he could reach above the collar of your shirt. he pulled you in closer, rubbing himself into your inner thighs.

“g-gonna show everyone you’re mine… no one is gonna get you. you’re mine- no one else gets to have you,” he growled into your chest, his arms wrapping around your torso so that he could trap you against his own body. you squirmed in his grip, but melted once again when he kissed a soft spot on your shoulder.

he could hear your heart beating fast. he pushed his own chest into yours, groaning softly at the way your pulses seemed to make a beautiful little melody together. your moans only added to the sounds. he’d spend all day listening to this if you’d let him.

he was getting hard. the way you reacted to such a selfish act on his part made him ache. he wanted to be selfish. he wanted to coat you in his bruises, he wanted to go to the dinner with you just to pin you to the table and fuck you; he wanted to voice all these wants, but it just came out as garbled, tangled phrases. “fuck you in front of everyone- cum down your throat in- in front of your friends… i’ll make everyone see. i want everyone to see you’re mine. mine, mine, mine…”

you smiled so sweetly, your hands running up the back of his neck to grip at his hair. it pulled him back down to reality, forcing him back into his body for just a moment. he pulled away, breathing heavily and staring down at the bit of damage he had already managed to do. there was so much more empty space to be covered.

“you’re throbbing against me, baby, jeez,” you sighed. he blinked a few times, glancing down at where your bodies connected at the hips. he was. through the fabric of his pants, he could see the way his cock pulsed. he hadn’t even realized he was that hard, he had been so caught up in covering you with his little blessings.

he whined softly, pressing further into you. you gasped softly at the way his cock rubbed up against you. he felt desperate. desperate to make you stay with him, and desperate to have you touch him. you reached down, palming him through his pants. his mouth hung open in a quiet whine, his lips going back to your neck and sucking hard there to muffle himself. you let out a whine of your own, squeezing around his clothed shaft.

“i need… need you, need, need… mine- i need m-my piggy. need it, need now, need-“ his rambles fell out against your skin. he humped into your palm- sporadic, weak little thrusts to show that he needed you. he did, he needed it so badly. you knew that, you could see it.

you hummed, pulling your hand away from his crotch. it made him choke on a few of his words, but quickly he recovered when he saw you turning around. you wiggled your pants down your hips, before pressing your hands firmly against the door in front of you both.

“make it quick, come on.” it was all you said, and yet it was enough.

billy leaped forward, grabbing you by the hips and immediately grinding himself against your butt. you giggled breathily, wiggling back against him to tease. he growled, yanking down his own pants so that they sat at the middle of his thighs. it was enough, for now. usually he’d want all of his clothes off, all of yours too, so that he could feel every little inch of your skin pressing against his. it felt like he was melding with you, combining your bodies into a mess of sweat and sex. but he didn’t have time for that, you had to go.

when did he begin getting worried about you being on time? he didn’t know. what he did know was that he was throbbing, and had to get inside of you before he burst at the seams.

billy lined himself up with you, and rubbed his head over your hole a few times. he saw you shudder, and near purred from the joy of making your body react. to know that you felt the same way he did, so needy for this release, was intoxicating to him.

he didn’t waste much more time, pressing the tip of his cock inside of you. he groaned as he leaned over your body, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind. he pushed the rest of the way in, slowly inching every centimetre of his shaft into your heat, and pulling you closer and closer to him. once he was all the way inside, he nuzzled into the back of your neck, grumbling small praises into your flesh.

you sighed, squirming slightly on his cock. it filled you out nicely. he wasn’t the biggest in the world, but he knew how to use what he had. he knew how to swivel his hips just right, and rub up into those little spots inside you that made you go crazy.

he was slow to get started. billy thrusted shallowly into you, his lips moving from your neck to between your shoulder blades. he drank in every little noise you let slip. he urged you to make more by biting along the skin he could reach, squeezing your body close to his. you rolled your hips back, trying to meet his movements the best you could, but he was holding you so tightly you could barely move. he was trapping you against him, using himself as chains to keep you tied to him.

“come on, baby, we need to be faster than this or I’m going to be late… please…” you whined, once again squirming in his grasp.

billy mumbled something, sounding annoyed at having been interrupted, before pulling away from you. he held your hips, pulling out all the way, before slamming back into you roughly. you gasped at the sudden force. you crumpled against the door, whimpering, at his mercy as he pumped into you. he shifted his feet, angling himself perfectly to begin an assault right on that sweetest spot inside of you. it made you sob, pushing back into every one of his thrusts the best you could manage.

he was starting to think he was winning this game you two were playing. here you were, impaled on his cock, moaning like a whore, and going nowhere. you were covered in his marks, bruises already blossoming along your skin. you looked perfect. you looked like his pretty little plaything, one that wouldn’t leave him even if they tried.

the image only encouraged him. he leaned forward, shoving your shirt up your back, and pressing his wet lips to the skin there. he drooled along your flesh, cooling off your burning skin as he began sucking more hickeys into the empty space. he felt you squeeze at this, and it made him whimper loudly, yanking your hips back into his cock.

“b-billy… touch me. make me cum, please, please…” your pleas came out so weak he almost didn’t hear them. he pushed his head up, reaching one of his hands down to hover over your crotch, while the other went to squeeze your chest.

“you’re mine? say it, say you’re mine… my piggy, say it… say you’re all mine,” he muttered into your ear.

you groaned, “I’m yours, billy. all yours, you know that. now, please, please touch me. make me cum, please.”

he smiled against your shoulder, before biting down hard there. he began playing with you, rubbing you and touching you in just the right ways. he knew how to make you cum, he had done it so many times before. he could tell you were already so pent up too, with how tightly you kept squeezing around him every time he added a new mark to his collection.

for a moment, there was only the sound of your hips slapping against each other. the sound was wet and sloppy, and between each one he growled and groaned vague praises. you added to the symphony of sounds by moaning as he played with you, getting closer and closer to release with every whimper and hard thrust from him.

soon, you were gushing onto his hand, shaking and gripping at the door for stability. he laughed quietly at the way you crumbled, and adjusted so that he was holding you up against his body once again. he let his head come to rest in the crook of your neck while he focused hard on coming deep inside you. it didn’t take much before he was spilling into your heat, groaning loud and slowing his hips so that he didn’t die of overstimulation.

you both stood there for a moment, chests heaving and bodies hot and sticky. you sighed, tapping his hip to signal that he needed to remove himself. he whimpered, nuzzling into you, but you shook your head.

“out,” you instructed gently, and he listened. he pulled himself from you slow, gasping at the cold air hitting his cock. he stepped back, looking at the mess he had made. the hickeys, the bites, the bruises, the cum dripping down your thigh- it was a masterpiece. it almost made him hard enough to go again.

you stood up straight, pulling your pants and underwear back up without cleaning the cum from your hole. he blinked a few times at the movement, surprised. you turned around, going over to him and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

“was that good enough to tie you over until i get back?” you asked. he nodded hesitantly, looking you over as you quickly smoothed out the wrinkles in your clothes, and fixed up your hair. “good. now I’m gonna go out with all of these pretty marks, and your cum deep inside of me, and everyone is gonna know i belong to you. does that sound okay?” he nodded again, and you smiled. “great! i’ll be back before you know it. love you!”

and with that, you whisked yourself out the door, and left him standing with his cock out and confusion plastered on his face.

checkmate.

last of us (show) starters

ep1- 9. 

❝ your t-shirt’s inside out. ❞ ❝ you already know i’m bad at lying. ❞ ❝ you are the person i never wanted to be in debt to. but i owe you. ❞ ❝ after all we’ve been through...everything i’ve done...it can’t be for nothing. ❞ ❝ you know what i see when i look at you? me. you remind me of me. ❞ ❝ i need you to take a breath. ❞ ❝ there’s a leader in you. one day, it could be your turn. ❞ ❝ i never liked you, but still, it’s like we’re friends. almost. ❞ ❝ we’re gonna be brave, and we’re gonna get out of this. ❞ ❝ can’t tell you how exciting it was listening to that fucking conversation. ❞ ❝ there you are. i was getting worried. ❞ ❝ a bad reputation doesn’t mean you’re bad. ❞ ❝ how about we just talk this through? ❞ ❝ this isn’t gonna end well. ❞ ❝ when we’re done, we’ll go wherever you want. ❞ ❝ you’re a dangerous person. you’ve certainly proved that. ❞ ❝ i started worrying you wouldn’t wake up. ❞ ❝ we can help each other. and get that gun out of my face. ❞ ❝ i think i’m gonna love you for a long, long time. ❞ ❝ there’s stuff up there you shouldn’t see. ❞ ❝ you ask a lot of goddamn questions. ❞ ❝ you know, i used to be scared of these people. ❞ ❝ i mean...our luck had to run out sooner or later. ❞ ❝ like to think, for once, we could finally win? ❞ ❝ i mean, it’s the long way or the ‘we’re fucking dead’ way. ❞ ❝ you mumble in your sleep. ❞ ❝ wait, who gave you the black eye? ❞ ❝ no. no questions. just do it. ❞ ❝ you can’t fight everything and everyone. you can pick and choose what’s important. ❞ ❝ nobody’s gonna be coming after you, right? ❞ ❝ you stay close and you follow my lead. ❞ ❝ there’s no halfway with this. we finish what we started. ❞ ❝ you’re a natural leader. you’re smart, loyal...violent. ❞ ❝ it’s a miracle you’re alive. ❞ ❝ okay, rocky start. could’ve been worse, though. ❞ ❝ you know what i’m in the mood for? shitty puns. ❞ ❝ it doesn’t matter. you have to trust me. ❞ ❝ you know, people like to tell stories. ❞ ❝ i’m not in the mood for this. i’m really not in the mood. ❞ ❝ you have a greater purpose than any of us could’ve ever imagined. ❞ ❝ how about we start with ‘thank you’? ❞ ❝ i’d like to go home and drink ‘til my face stops hurting. ❞ ❝ i want you to forget this ever happened. ❞ ❝ i believe everything happens for a reason. ❞ ❝ you can’t be stupid like this. ❞ ❝ you so hungry for vengeance? deliver it. ❞ ❝ i’m not going anywhere with you. ❞ ❝ if we come up against anything, you get behind me and you stay there, okay? ❞ ❝ i’m trying to keep you alive. ❞ ❝ did it make you feel better? did it make you feel safe? ❞ ❝ that’s not my fucking home. ❞ ❝ i don’t want your sorries. ❞ ❝ don’t blame me for something that isn’t my fault. ❞ ❝ oh, finally, some fucking luck. ❞ ❝ you won’t survive for long out here. i can protect you. ❞ ❝ no more questions about me. ❞ ❝ you want your jacket back? ❞ ❝ fuck you, man. i didn’t ask for this. ❞ ❝ besides, it’s the thought that counts. ❞ ❝ wasn’t my fault this time. ❞ ❝ i'm sorry, but this has gone on too long. ❞ ❝ i’ve had...more good days with you than with anyone else. ❞ ❝ i need you to take a breath. ❞ ❝ can we start a fire? i’m freezing. ❞ ❝ the darkness is falling, the sky has turned gray. ❞ ❝ matter of fact, we can just keep our histories to ourselves. ❞ ❝ you stay here. you hear anything, yell. ❞ ❝ maybe there's nothing bad out there, but so far there's always been something bad out there. ❞ ❝ so...is it everything you hoped for? ❞ ❝ what do you want me to say? ❞ ❝ you okay? you just seem extra quiet today. ❞ ❝ are you okay? you’re not hurt? nothing? ❞ ❝ there’s no way anyone knows we’re here, right? ❞ ❝ you do what i say when i say it. we clear? ❞ ❝ where would you be without me, huh? ❞ ❝ i’ve been on both sides. ❞ ❝ let’s just handle what we have to handle. ❞ ❝ is it everything you hoped for? ❞ ❝ it doesn’t matter how much you push the envelope, it will always be stationary. ❞ ❝ you hungry? you can share some of mine. ❞ ❝ have i committed a crime? ❞ ❝ it’s got its ups and downs...but you can’t deny that view. ❞ ❝ those things i did...those things that you judge me for, i did those things to keep us alive. ❞ ❝ i swear, i’ve told you everything i know. ❞ ❝ i don’t wanna talk about it. ❞ ❝ just because life stopped for you...doesn’t mean it has to stop for me. ❞ ❝ i'm alone and forsaken by fate and by man. ❞ ❝ here. this make you all nostalgic? ❞ ❝ thanks for still giving a shit about me. ❞ ❝ i am the bad guy because i did a bad guy thing. ❞ ❝ you keep your eyes on me. and don’t look anywhere else. ❞ ❝ i know this hurts. you’re gonna be okay. ❞ ❝ you think i’ve never done shit like that? ❞ ❝ maybe we just call this one a success and say our fond farewells. ❞ ❝ it isn’t fair, your age...having to deal with all of this. ❞ ❝ i was never afraid before you showed up. ❞ ❝ swear to me. swear to me that everything you said is true. ❞ ❝ do i not look scared? ❞ ❝ just a reminder that if you’re dead, i’m fucked. ❞ ❝ what else am i supposed to say? ❞ ❝ it’s not too late. even now...even after what you’ve done. ❞ ❝ i’m sorry. i have no other choice. ❞ ❝ if you just keep going...you find something new to fight for. ❞ ❝ we did what we needed to survive. ❞ ❝ is that what i am? am i one of the ‘wrong people’? ❞ ❝ i shouldn’t have said what i said. i don’t know your situation. ❞ ❝ i don’t wanna hurt you. i wanna help you. ❞ ❝ look, sometimes things don’t work out the way we hope. ❞ ❝ when do we tell the others? ❞ ❝ well, this is what happens when you fuck with fate. ❞ ❝ i saw what you did...the way you killed those men. ❞ ❝ but first, you have to do something for me. ❞ ❝ be careful who you put your faith in. the only people who can betray us...are the ones we trust.  ❞ ❝ you see my face? do i look scared? ❞ ❝ stay awake with me. ❞ ❝ it’s dangerous, but it’s nothing you can’t handle. ❞ ❝ there’s a whole lot you’re not telling me. ❞ ❝ how about you shut the fuck up? ❞ ❝ i would very much like for you to hurt them. ❞ ❝ what i’m about to tell you cannot be repeated to anyone. ❞ ❝ they’re gonna catch us if we don’t run. ❞ ❝ everybody i have cared for has either died or left me. everybody, fսcking except for you. ❞ ❝ lately, there are these moments where the fear comes up outta nowhere. ❞ ❝ i’m not looking for any trouble. ❞ ❝ i think maybe we got a little off on the wrong foot. ❞ ❝ i came here to save you. ❞ ❝ they’re not following us. i think we’re safe. ❞ ❝ i just ran away for a bit, that’s all. ❞ ❝ i thought you were dead. ❞ ❝ you think i can still handle things, but...i’m not who i was. ❞ ❝ oh, maybe i shouldn’t have said anything. ❞ ❝ i should fucking stab you. ❞ ❝ seriously, though, how the fuck do you do that? ❞ ❝ well, i...i don’t know how to swim. ❞ ❝ what the fuck is wrong with you, sneaking up on me like that? ❞ ❝ holy shit, are you dying? ❞ ❝ i was just trying to imagine you wearing that. ❞ ❝ was that the first dead body you ever saw? ❞ ❝ i wasn’t gonna say i’m sorry. i was gonna say that i’ve been thinking about what happened. ❞ ❝ how about you just take the good news? ❞ ❝ why did you bring me here? ❞ ❝ we can just be all poetic and lose our minds together. ❞ ❝ god help any motherfuckers who stand in our way. ❞ ❝ you stay down, you stay low, you stay quiet. ❞ ❝ that easy to give everything up, huh? ❞ ❝ are you gonna kill me? this seems like a perfect place to do it. ❞ ❝ you shouldn’t have had to. i’m sorry. ❞ ❝ you know, you really shouldn’t be all out here on your own. ❞ ❝ turn around and walk away. just go. ❞ ❝ i’ll follow you anywhere you go. ❞ ❝ hold me close to my heart. ❞ ❝ it’s hard to trust strangers. i know. ❞ ❝ i need to know you’re with me. ❞ ❝ the longer i was away...the harder it was to come back. ❞ ❝ did you kill innocent people? ❞ ❝ as much as i love arguing with your stubborn ass...we’re on a mission here. ❞ ❝ don't tell me that i’d be safer with somebody else because the truth is i would just be more scared. ❞ ❝ you have no idea what loss is. ❞ ❝ you’re the one thing i missed from that fucking place. ❞ ❝ when we were talking about hurting people...what did you mean it wasn’t your first time? ❞ ❝ i can’t fucking do this without you. ❞ ❝ it was a joke, okay? in my mind, you loved it. ❞ ❝ well then, give me your hand. ❞ ❝ they haven’t lost faith in you. they’re just scared. ❞ ❝ goddamn it, i wanna punch you so bad. ❞ ❝ looks different in the daylight, huh? ❞ ❝ i know you mean well. i know you wanna protect me. ❞

BACK FOR YOU — r.c

day four second chance with rafe cameron

pairing rafe cameron x fem!reader

summary months after your failed long distance relationship, rafe begins to send you love letters in an attempt to win you back.

warnings one allusion to sex closer to the end, but nothing else. just a lil angst and hella fluff. oh, and some language.

author’s note hi my loves, i’d really appreciate if you read this because i haven’t written a piece like this in a very long time and i’m actually really proud of it ♡︎ thank you ily

obx week ‘23 masterlist ;; rafe masterlist

Dear Y/N,

Hey. I know it’s been awhile, and I know that it’s weird — writing you like this. But something happened the other day, and I wanted to tell you about it. 

I was in the grocery store with Wheeze, picking up some cupcakes for her class bake sale because none of us actually know how to bake (which you know). When we got to the bakery section, I saw chocolate-covered strawberries, and I immediately thought of you. Remember how we used to go star-gazing? We’d pile the back of my pickup with pillows and those thick-ass, furry blankets from Costco, get all cozy, and you’d bring those chocolate-covered strawberries that you’d spent the day making just for me. You’d feed ‘em to me, grinning when I’d instantly chase your hand for another bite. And then afterward, you’d cuddle into me, and we’d just lay there, looking at the stars. You’d get this wondrous look in your eyes, like you’d never seen anything so beautiful. I had though. I got to look at you every day, and you beat the stars by a long shot.

Anyway, I ran into your mom at the club earlier. She told me that you were travelling, visiting every place you possibly could in Europe. Sounds like you. I bet you went to Greece first, you’ve had an obsession with it since you were fifteen. I know I always talked about taking you there. Who knows, maybe I still can. 

I miss you. Did I mention that? ‘Cause I do. I miss you all the time. 

Yours, 

Rafe

Dear Y/N, 

You didn’t answer that last letter, and that’s fine. I understand why. I never said how sorry I was for everything that happened last year, never really explained. But I will now.

I’m so sorry for how I ended things. Every day, I woke up at school, far away from you. It ached me to not wake up to you. To not see you every second of the day. To not hold your hand or see you smile as soon as you saw me. 

I missed everything. The smell of your lavender shampoo. Your hands running through my hair when I was stressed. You’d always kiss the frown off my face and fix everything just by telling me you loved me. The nights you’d call me when you couldn’t sleep because you needed to hear my voice. That cute little giggle you’d do after you’d been laughing for awhile. The way you’d look at me when you told me you loved me. There wasn’t a single reminder of you that didn’t constantly play on a loop in my head, that didn’t buzz deep in my veins. But I felt such a large void in my heart without you around, and I thought that if I broke things off with you that it would go away. But in the months since then, it’s only grown. Only gotten worse. I don’t think I’ll ever survive losing you. 

I hope this letter finds you well. I hope you open it, and maybe decide to write me back. No pressure, though. 

Yours always,

Rafe

Dear Y/N, 

I don’t know if you’re getting sick of these. I really hope you aren’t. I gotta admit, writing to you makes me feel like we’re still connected. I still think we are. At least, on my end, we are. 

Life’s been really crazy, lately. Ward’s getting ready to hand Cameron Development over to me. Every day he tells me that he hopes I won’t run the damn thing into the ground while he’s gone, travelling with Rose. I honestly don’t know why he would let me run things when he obviously doesn’t have an ounce of faith in me. You always told me that his love didn’t have to be earned, and I’ve always known that you were right, but it really feels like I’ll never have it. I wish you were here. You always make things better. 

Anyway, I’m on the road to Raleigh, and I can’t help but think about our crazy road trip last summer. We had no freakin’ clue where we were going, but honestly, I didn’t care. I just wanted to be with you. Your infectious laughter and your terrible singing along to All Too Well (the ten minute version, obviously) is what kept me going that entire drive. That, and when you’d shower me with kisses all over my cheek when you got bored. I loved that shit. 

I’ve been missing you like hell. I’ve already said this, but I really wish you were here. You’d make all this work worth it. ‘Cause, as of right now, I don’t really know why I’m doing all this. You aren’t here, and we don’t have the family we’d always dreamed about. Hopefully that changes in the near future. 

Yours (until my heart stops beating), 

Rafe

Dear Y/N, 

A little birdie by the name of Sarah let it slip that you’ve been keeping my letters. Truth is, I sent her to spy on you.

Okay, I didn’t. But I had you for a sec, didn’t I? 

I only know you have them because I begged her for hours to tell me how you were doing, and if you talked about me. Even then, I had to bribe her by saying I’d babysit the kids for an entire weekend so her and John B could go on a couples getaway. Totally worth it. 

Oh, and they threw me a party at work. Apparently I beat out Ward for some record. I don’t even remember what it’s called now. I had so much cake that I went into a sugar coma. It was red velvet, cream cheese icing. Your favourite. That’s probably why I ate so much. You’d go back for it so many times that by the time you were full, I’d be finishing all the rest. 

You still haven’t written me back, but that’s alright. Do it when you’re ready. If you’re ready. Again, no pressure. 

Anyway, I’m sitting here on my couch watching Gilmore Girls. Yes, I finally got around to watching it. I know you begged me to for ages and we never actually got the chance to do it, but it popped up on my ‘recommended’ the other day and I decided to give it a try. You were right. This show’s freakin’ hilarious. I swear Lorelai Gilmore is the reason you were always so witty with me. She’s so quick on her feet, it blows my mind. Also, please tell me that Rory becomes enjoyable again. I miss her Chilton days. I miss her and Jess. Does he ever come back? And please tell me that Luke and Lorelai are endgame. I mean, the horoscope!!! The man waited eight years for her. People probably thought he was crazy for doing so, but I get it. I’d wait centuries if it meant I got to end up with you. 

Yours (until the end of time),

Rafe

Dear Y/N, 

I’ve written you so many letters, I hope I’m not taking up too much space at your place. Hey, that rhymed. I should be a rapper. All right, I could never be a rapper. This is why I need you. You keep my delusional mind in check. 

The other day, I was on the ferry, riding over to the mainland, and when we reached, I swear I almost started driving to your house. Obviously, I didn’t. I chickened out. I thought about walking up to your doorstep, watching you open the door, and even dream-you was way too beautiful for me to handle. I almost gave myself a heart attack. One day, though, I’ll work up the courage. I wanna see you so badly, it’s killing me. 

Can I tell you something? I have this dream sometimes, more often than not. It takes place back when we were still in college. Instead of ending things between us, I drop everything and run to you. The journey takes all day long, but I don’t care. I make my way to you, and once I find you, I pull you into my arms and kiss the life out of you. You ask me what’s gotten into me, and I respond by saying that I never want to live without you. That being away from you is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to deal with, and that life isn’t worth living if I’m not by your side. I get down on one knee, pull out a big ass rock from my pocket, and ask you to marry me. And you say yes. Every. Damn. Time. 

The reason I’m saying all this is because I want to give you a fair warning. I’m going to make that happen someday. Sure, we aren’t in school anymore, and we aren’t even together right now, but I don’t care. We’re going to end up together. I know it, and you know it. I promise you, Y/N, I’m going to come back for you. And when I do, I’ll never leave you again. The only place I ever want to be is right by your side, in our huge house that I’m going to build for us, with our kids running around and chasing our dog. The house will smell like a bakery all the time because of your huge sweet tooth, and it’ll most likely be a mess because we won’t be able to keep up with our crazy ass kids. But we’ll be together. And we’ll stay that way until we’re all old and grey. And I might be pushing it by saying this, but I’ll still be taking you to bed every night, ‘cause I know in my heart that you’ll still be getting me all bricked up even in our nineties. Please don’t hate me for saying that. 

Yours forever,

Rafe

You placed the last letter back into its envelope and added it to your large collection. Your heart warmed at Rafe’s declaration. You’d been rereading that one letter for a month now. You missed him terribly. You’d tried to write to him so many times, but each time you’d started, you just couldn’t go through with it. Your fear consumed you. You were petrified of the thought that once you opened yourself up again, Rafe would find another reason to leave you. You’d always known that it was hard for him to walk away from you, but it hurt you just the same. If not, more. 

Still, this was a side of him that you’d never seen before. He’d changed in the near year since you’d broken up. You could tell from the way he wrote to you. He’d never been as vulnerable and raw as he had been in those letters. He was bearing his soul to you, something he was always unable to truly do. There was always a small part of him that was closed off, even to you. But that part seemed to have vanished. 

Just as you placed the crate of letters back on your shelf, your doorbell rang. Your heart raced as you approached the door. You opened it, and there, finally, he stood.

Rafe slapped his hand to his heart. “God, I was right. Way too beautiful. Take it easy on me, would you?”

You didn’t answer. Instead, you threw your arms around his neck and practically jumped into his arms. He returned your embrace quickly, squeezing you tightly and keeping you pressed to him as one hand cradled the back of your head. 

After a moment, you hesitantly pulled away, your tears clouding your vision. You opened your mouth to speak, but Rafe beat you to it.

“I’m so sorry, baby. I love you. I love you so much. I—”

You cut him off. “—Shut up and kiss me, fiancé.”

“Fiancé? Yeah? You wanna marry me?”

“Of course I do. You’re still mine, right?”

“Yours,” he confirmed, punctuating it with a kiss. “Always.” Kiss. “Until my heart stops beating.” Kiss. “Until the end of time.” Kiss.

He leaned his forehead against yours, his eyes closing as he let out a content sigh. “Forever.” 

RAFE TAG LIST (JOIN HERE!): @surftrips @oncasette @taintedxkisses @maybankslover @goldenroutledge @penny4yourthoughts @bmo-bri @hemogloban @princessbetsy123-blog @slytherhoes @whoisdrewstarkey @dreamingwithrafe @vigilanteshitposting @twelfthmortalofcrimsonpalace @wildflwrdarlin @adoreyouusugar @f4ll-for-you @tell-me-when-ur-ready @bbycowboi @jjmaybankisbae @jjsbank444 @enhypens-hoe @loverofdrewstarkey @countryclubkook @earth2starkey @angelofcigs @koalalafications @aerangi @cantstoptheimagines @bloody-mf-bsc @maybanksbabe @slut4drudy @dancinglikeaballerina @somerandos-world @shahanaazsoumah @darleneslane @sya-skies @ellabellabus07 @emmalandry @madelynie @urbestieboo @cruzgrecia @l1lactheflower @rafegirly @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @gillybear17 @obaex @abbybarnesstuff @mattyskies

By the time the sun had fully risen, Josephine and Zelda were in Violette’s new room helping her to unpack all of her toys and dresses. The room was already outfitted with a small bed, dresser, and a dollhouse that was just like the one Violette had in New Orleans.

Violette was enchanted by it all, but most of all by the ornate Victorian dollhouse. She scurried about the room looking for her favorite dolls to unpack, her olive eyes shining as she tucked each one into the outfitted rooms rather than notice the peeling wallpaper or her aunt’s intermittent bouts of distraction.

Her own trepidations about the move had long been allayed by her mother and aunt’s reassurances that this was a land of magic. The Land of Enchantment, they had told her, the place where all her dreams could come true. How much of their hope and optimism was feigned for her sake as well as their own on that day, she was still too young to decipher.

Outside the window, Antoine was sitting with Gio on a truck that he had bought when he first moved out that way, smoking and watching the occasional Ford pass by the road that ran in front of their farmhouse. 

“So when you said find work, I should have known, I should have asked…stupid. Stupid and hopeful.”

Gio beat a pack of cigarettes between his hands, holding it out to Antoine as he spoke, “Not stupid, old sport. If I’m being honest, I should have spent the extra cents to tell you more, but part of me feared if you knew the whole truth none of you would come. Especially Jo. Just, don’t tell her about any of this, alright? It’s not like I’m trying to trick her or anything, I just know what it’s about to be like in New Orleans. A city full of dock workers with no goods? No jobs to be found and no food to grow? I’m only trying to make sure we’re safe, me and her and all of you. But I fear she won’t see it that way.”

For a moment Antoine’s anger rose for his sister, dragged out here away from her home not only by Giorgio, but by him too. He had seen her hesitation when he had first contacted Gio, but had told himself that they had few other options. Now, knowing that they had to sustain a lie just to keep her here was almost enough to make him turn around and pack his bags.

Then he thought of the way she had reacted when she had seen Giorgio yesterday, and how her own pride trumped even his own. He knew that Gio was right, that there was nothing left for them in New Orleans. But most of all he knew that Josephine would never have accepted his help willingly, and she would see his actions as a way to control her; then she would run, no matter how much she loved him.

But more than anything, Antoine remembered the last time he had left her alone and the means she had resorted to to survive. How could he protect her if she ran, if they had nowhere left to go? He looked toward the house where she was now playing with Violette, together with her family. Happy. Safe.

He quelled the protective anger growing in his chest and looked back at Giorgio, “But what about money, Gio? What about food?”

Gio took a long drag and a sharp intake of breath, “I tried for years old sport, years. I can get it to grow but it always dies before it fruits. I’ve been trading for goods and taking odd jobs, but they’re harder to find every damn day. We need to grow at least enough to eat. Enough to ensure that if the work dries up the land will give us something.”

He stared at his lit cigarette for a while before he threw it onto the ground, the dry sand immediately engulfing the remaining embers, “And if I’m being honest, I’ve got reason to believe the time’s comin’ soon. There’s migrants passing through here, Antoine, makin’ me think it’s about to get a whole lot worse. Okies, they call them. This whole business, it’s turned into a shitstorm. The farm prices tanked only months after I got here and now the land is worth less than I paid for it and the farmhouse combined. I managed to see it coming and take out a loan on it before it got too bad though, enough cash to get us through a few years. But we’ve got to move fast, make sure we’re secured before things really go south.”

Must find work, he had written. Antoine threw his lit cigarette on the ground next to Giorgio’s; now it all made sense. He had brought his family on board a sinking ship.

vicious  -  v.e. schwab  sentence starters change tenses/pronouns as needed !!  some lines have been edited for clarity / length / ease of roleplaying  tw :  death , murder , suicide , religious idealization , language , mental health

‘vandalizing school property again?’

everything stars with belief. with faith.’

‘fine, yeah, it’s stupid, right? you caught me.’

‘I don’t think you’re a bad person.’

‘it’s all a matter of perspective.’

‘did you know that when you take away a person’s fear of pain, you take away their fear of death? you make them, in their own eyes, immortal.’

‘someone tried to kill me.’

‘why would someone try to kill you?’

‘you asked me if I ever wanted to believe in something. I do. I want to believe in this.’

‘I want to believe that there’s more. that we could be more.’

‘nothing you ever do, (name), is meant to be theoretical. I see it in you.’

‘I think you’ve had enough.’

‘i’ll go first.’

‘actually, I’m feeling fine. better than. I feel wonderful. I feel like roses and sunshine and glitter.’

‘you need to live through this. you need to.’

‘my hero. now fuck off.’

‘you can’t do this alone. so promise me you won’t.’

‘have you lost your mind?’

‘we can get you help.’

‘this is crazy. you’re crazy.’

‘I want you to know that I will never, ever forgive you for this.’

‘did you love her? or are you just mad I took something back?’

‘I didn’t rat you out, you know. I could have.’

‘I don’t know who you are but you’re not (name). you’re something that’s crawled in his skin. a devil wearing him.’

‘something’s wrong, missing, gone. can’t you feel it? I can.’

‘admit it, you feel different, too. death takes something with it. what did it take from you?’

‘no one is going to hurt you, you know why? because I’ll hurt them first.’

‘would that be so bad? to create something extraordinary?’

‘all these roads lead to ruin.’

‘I died begging for the strength to survive and it was granted. but it’s a trade.’

‘it’s a trade, with god or the devil, and I’ve paid for my gift with the lives of my friends.’

‘i’m dangerous. I shouldn’t exist. but what gives you the right to kill me?’

‘everything about you is chock full of self - loathing. i’m not judging. I know the feeling.’

‘you know, maybe I should let you kill me.’

‘you’re right. even though we come back, something stays dead. lost. we forget something of who we are.’

‘it’s scary and wonderful and monstrous.’

‘you’re the hero … of your own story.’

‘what gives you the right to play judge and jury and executioner?’

‘want me to kiss it? will that make it better?’

‘I know you. I see you.’

‘I don’t want to be forgotten,’

‘tell you what. you remember me, and I’ll remember you, and that way we won’t be forgotten.’

‘that’s shit logic.’

‘you make cheating death sound so simple.’

‘being afraid and being unwilling are two different things.’

‘I don’t think you want to die.’

‘the world resists, when you break its rules.’

‘I see you’re still alive then. good choice.’

‘if u didn’t know better, i’d think you care.’

‘you think I’m wrong somehow. broken.’

‘I think we’re all broken.’

‘you can’t fix the dead, (name). and besides, it’s not your place to try.’

‘it’s not your place to control people’s lives.’

‘who taught you to sing so loud? the (name) I knew could barely chirp.’

‘I need you to be brave. I need you to be strong.’

‘there are worse ways to die. and worse things to do than die.’

‘I promise I’ll make it quick.’

‘there was a monster in there, long before you died.’

Text:

[Dear Thorn,

This is by far the most stupidest thing I’ve ever done but my therapist recommended it so here I am. Writing a letter to a ghost that will never read this.

The war ended. About six months ago. The Jetti finally realized Palpatine was a Sith. He almost killed Rex. He did kill me but Quinlan revived me. I wish he didn’t but He’s a good friend. Things have been…not bad. I have a place of my own now. Well, kind of. I used to live with Quin but he’s—

I fucked up. Worse than I’ve ever done. The fight wasn’t supposed to get that bad. It was fine. He stepped in though and I-I couldn’t control it. This rage. I hurt him. I almost killed Fives. Again. He’s in a coma now. They don’t know when he will wake. If he will. His brother, Echo I think his name is, sits beside him most days. He’s almost always there every time I try to visit.

I think there’s something wrong with me. I thought maybe visiting would help but it hasn’t. Thorn I don’t care. I don’t…every time I look at him, I can’t bring myself to feel guilty, for any of it. It burns in my mind. If he never survived the first time, you would be here and now he’s in a coma—it feels like it’s deserved and I can’t stop thinking about it. And I know—

You wouldn’t have wanted that and I can’t help it and I’ve tried but I don’t know what to do. I was so sure that no matter what Chancellor Palpatine put me through, he could never strip me of my humanity. And I was fine after the war. Everything was fine. But then I saw him, laughing with his vod. And you’re dead. And I didn’t care. I almost killed him, Thorn.

I kept punching him. I couldn’t stop my fists from hitting his face over and over and over again. I didn’t want them to. He was hardly recognizable, had to be put in bacta for a week, and I still don’t care.

Am I human anymore? Is this what finally made me CC-1010?

Why did you die? Why did you leave me alone? Dammit, I can’t do this alone. I can’t do this. I don’t know how to be a vod, I can barely be a man.

Thorn, I just…

Please help me.

Fox CC-1010]

CC-1010 crumbled up the paper before smoothing it back out. There’s no reason to keep it.

Thorn’s never going to read it.

What’s the use of keeping it? He crumbles it further in his hand and it feels like a sin, like a damnation that he’s not saving it but what’s the use?

No one is going to read it.

CC-1010 won’t let them. He can’t let them. They can’t know he’s … that he’s not …

He leans his head against the table. Grits his teeth. When did pretending get so hard to do?

It should be easy. He’s pretended all throughout the war to his Vod’e that he’s fine. Nothing was wrong.

Why is it so hard now?

CC-1010 turns his head. Stares at the wall.

He should not be alone, he thinks. Almost snorts. He glances to his comm. Knows Cody is the only contact he has in there besides Quin.

He wonders … CC-1010 shakes his head.

No, no. If he was in Cody’s shoes, he wouldn’t want to hear from himself.

He’ll be fine. He always is.

Eventually.

R/oy x Ja/mie ficlet - Cold Denial

Summary: It’s Roy’s birthday and Jamie isn’t going to let a little cold ruin it.

No applicable warnings. 800 words.

Notes: I wrote this for myself a while back and decided to clean it up. It’s not much but I figured I’d throw it out there. The beginning is kind of boring because I had to go back and add a bit of exposition. Clearly when I wrote it for myself I jumped straight to the snz part. 😅

-

It’s the first time they’re celebrating Roy’s birthday together, and Jamie wants everything to be perfect. Or Roy’s version of perfect, which is much more low-key than Jamie’s usual celebrations. They’re sticking to some takeout from Roy’s favorite restaurant and a movie that he’s been wanting to show Jamie.

All things considered, it’s the easiest birthday celebration he’s ever had to plan, and of course his body is trying to ruin it. He’s been in denial since yesterday about his sore throat and the run-down feeling that’s seeping into his bones. More symptoms are starting to set in at this point – his nose won’t stop running and his sneezes are becoming more frequent and harder to contain. But he’s determined to hide it and not let it ruin Roy’s special evening.

The food arrives and he gets everything set up. When Roy shows up, right on time, Jamie does his best to hide his symptoms and act like nothing’s out of the ordinary. But his nose is starting to turn a bit red, and his voice has a weak, strained quality to it.

As they eat, they catch up about the past few days. If Roy notices that something is off, he doesn’t say anything. Jamie thinks he can feel Roy’s eyes on him when Jamie isn’t looking, but Roy keeps his mouth shut for the time being. He knows Jamie is trying to make tonight special and doesn’t want to put him off.

Jamie manages to survive through dinner with his façade mostly intact, but he knows he doesn’t have much longer before the jig is up. He’s forced to stifle several sneezes at the table, doing his best to turn away and unleash them as quietly as possible into his pinched fingers. He’s mostly successful; only once, now that they’ve just finished eating, does he need to use the emergency tissues he stuffed in his pocket to haphazardly cover a spraying barrage - “hah’ESSSHH! tch’ISSH! Hih’ERSHH’IUE!” that’s too intense to stifle.

Roy quirks a bushy eyebrow at him. “You seem to be sneezing an awful lot.”

“Idt’s jusdt allergies,” Jamie says, fighting against the persistent tickle in his sinuses that’s threatening to make his eyes water. He scrunches his nose up in an effort to relieve the itch, but that only makes it worse.

“I thought you didn’t get allergies until summer?” Roy narrows his eyes, suspicious.

“Well, I guess they came early this year! Fuckin’ hell, I dunno.” Jamie gives a gurgling blow into the bunch of tissues. His bluff isn’t helped when he clears his scratchy throat and gives a couple of dry coughs into the wet cotton.

“You sure you’re not sick?” Roy asks.

“I’b sure.”

“And you’re not just hiding it because it my birthday?”

Jamie hesitates. “I’b – heh – I’b fi-iihh -heh-ITSCCCHHah!” he freezes. That one fucking hurt. He snuffles back some of the congestion that had loosened in the outburst. “I’b fine,” he says again, this time with some uncertainty creeping into his voice.

Roy rolls his eyes. “Come on, Tartt, just admit it. I’m not going to be mad at you for being sick.”

“Ugh. You always have to – hah – have to – hah’ESSHH’IUE!” He groans into the soaked tissue. “Have to be right, don’t yeh?”

“Kind of my job as your coach to know when you need rest, yeah?”

Jamie looks forlorn as he scrubs a finger under his achy, pink nose. “Budt idt’s your birthday.”

“It’s fine, Jamie. I’ve had a lot of birthdays.”

“But this is our first one together! I wanted it to be special,” Jamie says with a pout. “hih’EH’TSSSHOO!” He wrenches forward as he’s overpowered by another miserable, scraping sneeze. Lightheaded, he resigns himself to the fact that they’re getting more out of control by the minute.

“We can do something next week when you’re feeling better. You look like you’re dying,” Roy says. Jamie’s brows knit together as he glares at him, his vanity taking exception to that. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

At that, Jamie perks up a bit, giving a mischievous eyebrow waggle. The effect is kind of ruined by his red, glistening nostrils.

“Not for that! Fuck.” Roy says, exasperated yet fond.

Jamie’s face wilts into a pout. The puppy dog eyes are interrupted when his breath starts to hitch again, and he curls forward into his mass of soggy tissues, expression crumpling. “heh…hih’AEESHH’uh!” He glances up at Roy with defeat in his eyes, the destroyed tissue still pinched around his rebellious nose.

Roy brings a warm hand to the back of Jamie’s neck, a solid and commanding presence. “Please? It’ll make me feel better. It can be my present.”

“Sombe present.” Jamie sniffles thickly, cross with himself. But he eventually gives in, knowing Roy is right. Roy manhandles him up the stairs to the bedroom, grabbing the box of tissues on the way.

The closet is colder than I would’ve expected and when I hear the air kick on, goosebumps race each other across my arm. I shiver, tighten my arm’s grip around my knees, and curl impossibly further into myself. The gash on my forearm burns and my legs protest against me, but I only relish in the pain.

I wish I had a blanket, but there’s nothing I can do about it; I can’t leave, because he’s waiting out there, plopped onto the recliner sitting in front of the television, beer in one hand and cigarette in the other. I can hear the muffled sound of background music and people talking, the only company I have.

I’m not sure what time it is. There’s no clocks, no windows. Actually, there’s no anything — the closet is small enough for me to reach out my arm and touch all four walls, and was emptied out years ago after Mom left. The only thing that remains is the curtain rod that just barely brushes against my head when I sit up straight. The position forces my neck to be bent at an odd angle, but I don’t mind. I’ve been through worse.

For a second, I think I hear something out there — his heavy footsteps, or his low growl, or his obtrusive slamming — but I immediately shake the thought off. It’s impossible. This is my safe place, the only place in the house where it’s ensured he won’t come after me. If I tuck myself away in here first, I don’t have to worry about how hard he’ll throw me in. As long as I stay out of sight, out of earshot, out of mind, I’ll survive.

The thought of fighting back enters my mind with the traitorous taunting of hope. Even if I were brave enough, there’s no way I would win. I’ve tried before. My presence is as insignificant as the gum on the bottom of his shoe; he picks me up and throws me to the ground without a second thought. It’s better for me to stay put. It always is. 

Just until I’m eighteen. Just until I’m eighteen. The mantra repeats itself even before I know I’ve thought it. I’ve treaded these unstable waters before. As dangerous as they were, they were also familiar. All I had to do was ride the waves out. I can last longer than him. That, at least, I can do. I owed it to Mom. I owed it to myself.  @nosebleedclub prompts, april xi. “safe” place

Savagery

It’s hard to know how to feel as I’ve been going through the history of the Viking age peoples.  

On one hand they were profoundly inclusive, traveling the world, inviting other cultures to trade, and even including some of them. People with Persian DNA have been found in graves, along with rings with Allah inscribed upon them.  

What’s more we have written firsthand accounts, some of the only surviving, of Viking funerary rites from traders, and many historians now believe that the ancient Silk Road had its western terminus in Scandanavia. 

While gender roles seemed to have been strictly enforced, women still had the ability to own property, or serve as warriors. There even seems to be evidence, though it would be easy to read too much into it, that the Vikings were comfortable with a type of non-human identity in some.  

In a vacuum all of this sounds amazing. Here we have a warrior culture, that also traded and welcomed others and had at least some degree of respect for women as they ventured across the world.  

Truly, they must be a model of 9th century progressive values and ideals.  

Not so fast...  

While, to a degree welcoming, worldly, and inclusive, our spiritual ancestors were also, at the very same time, terrible people. A bulk of the slave trading in Europe came from the Viking World. Rape, and the murder of children was an acceptable war tactic, and virtually anything could be done to a person one owned, even up to murder, with little to no consequence.  

Human sacrifice to the Gods was common and means of justice were shockingly brutal.  

None of this existed in a vacuum. The Christian kingdoms of this era were at least as bad, and in some ways worse, as were the Romans. You aren’t going to find a human society that is without its horrors, and if you read the legends, even the Gods do reprehensible things.  

As I’ve grown in my knowledge of the legends, I find it interesting that, from my perspective, Ragnarök was a preventable tragedy. Loki’s three monstrous children are bound, but the why is at best hazy, and with Fenrir it’s an outrage.  

The Gods feared the great wolf, but nothing that survives ever indicates he was a threat. Perhaps we should trust the wisdom of Woden here, perhaps he had some foresight, but all we have from the legends is fear, and it is his binding that sets up the great cascade of events that culminate in the death of the Gods themselves.  

I wonder if one of the reasons Loki went after Baldr, was a result of Woden binding Loki’s son unjustly.  

One might be surprised to see such sentiment from me, but the Gods call me to be honest, and the one thing they never claim to be in all the legends is perfect, nor do they claim to be unchangeable.  

As said, they even face death, which is an ultimate form of change, perhaps the most necessary kind.  

I say this because I realize I am not so different from the ancestors. While many might see my actions as progressive, or even virtuous as a vegan, as someone that strives to go fair trade with her clothing, chocolate and bananas etc. Striving isn’t good enough, is it?  

I’m writing this on a computer that was built with conflict minerals, it’s unavoidable. Most likely some ten year old child working his fingers to the bone mined the cobalt for my fancy electronics.  

Migrants denied any pathway to legal or easy immigration into this country are exploited to grow my food. Some of my clothing was most likely made in sweatshops.  

We like to think that we’ve come far as a society, and we have. We now keep our slave labor, our exploitation of others firmly out of sight while we pat ourselves on the back for wearing hemp and shopping at Whole Foods, judging those that came before us with a type of virtuous horror.  

And it’s not fair to them, and it won’t be fair to us when, five or ten generations down, they look at us as brutal savages either.  

I don’t think anything can make many of the actions of our ancestors right, or understandable, but I think to honor them properly we must look at them with honesty and as lessons of what not to do, how not to be, as much as how to be.  

I see this with the Gods too, and the chronicling of their savagery and past mistakes recorded in the mythology. Woden is not the same God that he was a thousand years ago, he has grown and changed. I am deeply convinced of this. What’s more, the culture that interpreted, or misinterpreted his actions is now gone, and we’re left with our, in some ways, more progressive time where we can forge new relationships with these High Ones.  

Nothing is static, nothing will ever be perfect, but in every era, every time, there were at least a handful, some known, some unknown, that bucked the trend, that sought to be better than the world they were raised in and went beyond what they were given.  

There were people who freed their slaves, fought for justice, or never kept another human being because it just felt wrong. There were noble warriors who never harmed a child or violated a woman in a village.  

They may have been few, they may have done their good deeds under a cloak of eternal anonymity, but we have the same choice.  

I can’t stop it all, but I can stop some. I can’t keep myself from benefiting 100% in the privileged position I exist in, but I can use that privilege to shout from the rooftops and intervene for those that have none.  

We are our deeds, in totality. Much is made of being a warrior in many modern heathen paths. Well, I feel my war is within, and against every systemic cruelty that exists in the world.  

It may be my Jörmungandr, it may be the end of me, but as long as I’m working to do better, and be better, than I feel I am honoring the Ancestors and the Gods.  

Jo’s down on their luck, again

I hate doing this, and yes, I know I’ve done it before. Similar circumstances, too. But I’m in a pinch and have to reach out for assistance.

So, a few days ago (at the start of my typical work week) my car’s starter motor gave out. Which is really inopportune, as I need my car for my delivery job that’s my primary source of income. Worse, the repair will cost 1400 CA$ all in, plus there was the $115 to tow it to the shop. Let’s not even get into the week’s worth of pay down the drain. I’d been saving money in hopes of finally buying a new computer so I can resume vidding (I have a new Catra vid I’ve been wanting to do for over a year, plus several MFS ones) and hopefully start freelance editing for money, and this wiped out that fund. I was recently granted the disability tax credit and got some back taxes from that, but even that won’t cover the cost. My fam are all strapped for cash at the moment and can’t help, and I’m trying to avoid dipping into the savings I have for when I inevitably have to leave my current affordable living situation in a very expensive market. I’ll survive if I don’t get help, but I’ll be facing a significant setback. I was really looking forward to expressing myself through visual arts again and maybe even starting to make actual money off of it.

Most of my recent work has been in the Motherland: Fort Salem fandom, which is mostly non-existent on Tumblr. So maybe I’m barking up the wrong tree here. Y’all might have thought I died or something, but I did not (despite some close calls). There’s still unfinished works and new ideas in my older fandoms that I hope to return to at some point, but I can’t guarantee anything, as my focus and energy levels are still affected by all the brain injuries (and that brain is ASD/ADHD to begin with). My health in general just isn’t great these days, and that takes a toll. So, I’m not in a place to be asking for help based on the promise of new content. But if you’ve enjoyed my work over the years (including metas and gifsets, along with the fics and vids) and found it enlightening or helpful, please consider throwing me a few bucks. Anything really does help at this point. If you have nothing to give (a total mood), please share this with friends and followers who may know me/my work.

If nothing else, thank you for taking the time to read this. I appreciate all the support (monetary and otherwise) I’ve gotten from my followers over the years, that people care about my content and find it worth engaging with. Even if I’ve been around less, I still think fondly of you all and the great conversations and friendships that began here. Feel free to reach out in DMs even if you can’t donate; I miss the people on this hellsite (affectionate).

Link to my Ko-Fi: https://ko-fi.com/johannas_motivational_insults

So I have a fanfic where a human from our world is randomly proofed into the HK world as a Vessel in the Abyss, and a large part of the story revolves around how they have knowledge about the game, aka the world and future.

But I’ve been wondering about an alternate scenario, like what would happen if they weren’t from our world, if they didn’t have that advanced knowledge?

If they were just a normal person who randomly wakes up in a completely alien world, foreign and unfamiliar, in the body of a strange creature that’s vaguely humanoid in shape but definitely not in biology. Surrounded by a terrifying black sea that lashes at them with icy sharp tendrils and hovering black ghosts that looked like they were made of solid shadow.

To walk on unsteady lanky legs across thousands of small corpses that look disturbingly similar to their new body, a fact they intentionally try to ignore because thinking about it deeper horrifies them too much.

This place seems like hell, and they want, desperately, to escape it.

They climb, carefully and gradually more fearfully the higher the pit stretches with no sign of ending. They’re terrified of falling, fairly sure they wouldn’t survive. But they climb anyway, seeking freedom.

Until they do find the top, that muted metal platform desaturated of color, and discover with dismay that there is a barrier, there’s no where else to go, it’s a dead end, they wasted all that effort climbing for nothing.

(They haven’t encountered anything else alive here; they aren’t sure if they’ll starve to death. Or of thirst.)

They would give up hope if it weren’t for the faintest sliver of light peeking from a paper-thin slit in the barrier, telling them that there was something on the other side, potential freedom. They try to dig at the stone with their clawed hands, but the stone is too hard, their claws split and crack and break. They bleed black.

But now that they have had the temptation of escape, they’re vehement to not let it go, and while their body might be this strange alien creature, their mind remains sharply and cleverly human.

It they can’t dig with their hands, they’ll find or make a tool to do it instead.

And they remember seeing a lot of sharp metal back where they woke up.

It takes a while to slowly, very slowly, chisel their way through the stone, to make a hole big enough for them to squeeze through. They don’t know what to expect on the other side, but it certainly wasn’t to come face to face with a glowing white being.

The human-turned-Vessel has no idea what or who the white being is, nor why they act so strange around them. They can understand the language it—he—speaks, but the words lack context and they don’t understand what he’s actually saying half the time. They’re confused, and scared. They don’t know anything about this world, and things happen so fast that they can barely keep up with it.

They can only go with what the other beings around them are doing.

The fact that the white being—the King—keeps ordering around another that is clearly the same kind as them makes them uncomfortable, as does how readily that other is to obey. They are stoic and silent, and the way they do nothing until commanded is very unnerving. It feels wrong. They wonder if the other is a slave, but is confused when they themselves aren’t made into one.

In fact the King seems to fall in love with them, treating them like his child. Decrees them the prince/princess after less than a day. Lavishes them with luxury and attention.

It makes them even more discomforted.

They do not understand why he seems to revere them, but treats the other so much worse. They were the same! Such dichotomy was so wrong it was repulsive.

It makes their time in the palace almost as uncomfortable as the dark pit had been. It wears on them, the way the King constantly tries to treat them like his child, to ‘teach’ them and ‘dote’ on them, until it becomes unbearable.

They need to leave, to flee this place as well.

But they won’t leave without the other of their kind. They deserved freedom as much, if not more, than themselves. They would go together.

A feat easier said than done, because the other was strangely resistant to trying to escape. They didn’t seem to listen to them when they tried to form a plan with them. Didn’t move when they tried to convince them to come with them. And actively fought when they tried to pull them along with them.

It was utterly depressing, in their perspective. The other was so brainwashed and conditioned into being the kings slave, they refused to escape. Refused to even try.

It only made them all the more determined to save them.

They eventually manage, though how they do so leaves a bad taste in their mouth. They had to use their ‘rank’ as the prince/princess and command them like the King did. Only then did the other comply and follow them.

They resolve to make sure that was the last time anyone ordered them around. They’d help break the conditioning, no matter how long it took. The other would know freedom, they’d make sure of it.

They know nothing of this world, but they know the King will not be happy once he discovers them both missing. It’ll be obvious that they took the other. They both need to find a place the King will never find them. Or get beyond the reach of his influence. That would be safer.

He could not touch them if they left his kingdom entirely.

They didn’t know how to survive on their own, but they would learn. They knew of the essentials that they needed, food and water and medical supplies. Coverings to protect against exposure. Potentially fire starting items.

Most of it they stole from the palace’s supplies. They didn’t feel the slightest bit guilty.

They also took along the jewelry given to them as gifts when they became the prince/princess. The gold and gemstones would be valuable no matter where they ended up, able to be sold for money.

Providing for two would be a bit harder, but they would manage. They both would. There had to be somewhere else out there where they would be safe.

(Out in the Wastelands, it takes a while for them to realize that something was wrong. That it was a problem, how much they were struggling to remember things. How much it felt like they were struggling to remain cognizant. It felt like their mind was slowly slipping away from them like sand through their fingers.)

(When they realize something was happening, it terrifies them. They don’t know what to do, how to stop it. They don’t even know what it was.)

(The terror doesn’t last long. They soon forget about it. Forget that something is wrong.)

(Soon they forget almost everything. Who they are, where they are from, why they were out in this terrible wasteland that seemed never ending. Everything but their name and the name they gave the other leaves them.)

(The other is not unaffected either. It’s clear by how they start to behave they’ve forgotten themselves too.)

(Perhaps this is better for them. Perhaps loosing those memories is actually a mercy for them. Unrestrained from the binds of their former life down to their very memories, perhaps now they are, in some way, truly free.)

(They don’t know. It doesn’t matter. The only thing they both know is each other.)

(As far as they are aware, they’re all they ever knew.)

x

The Pale King finds them, eventually. It’s far too late.

The miracle Vessel who had, against all odds, retained its full cognitive abilities from conception, that, despite the void permeating and corrupting its flesh, was somehow still alive, was now little more than a shell of itself. It remembered nothing, and the look in its eyeholes were far too blank. Oh, sure, it still had a personality, it still clearly had thoughts and emotions, but the individual identity was gone. Erased. Relinquished entirely after so long away from the light of his beacon.

Seeing it so aloof was…painful.

And the Pure Vessel was ruined. Tainted, corrupted, somehow. Likely from the influence of the other Vessel. It looked at him in the exact same way as the prince/princess, eyes filled with a mild curiosity. The exact same aloofness where should have been absolutely nothing.

It still responded to commands, somewhat. It would give him its attention, body tensing in a vague muscle memory of its old proud posture, but that was largely it. Sometimes it would obey, but never in the detached manner it used to, and sometimes it would just stare, like it no longer understood what it was supposed to do. Sometimes it’s attention would be taken away by the other vessel.

It would do things on its own. Do whatever it wanted. Followed whatever thoughts that existed in whatever sort of a mind it now had. It was surly a very underdeveloped, primitive one. Potentially even damaged.

Seeing it as it was now stung, both with guilt and in failure. With the Pure Vessel ruined, the future of his kingdom was uncertain. The future of the Vessels’ own lives was uncertain...

Looking upon both had always hurt before, due to what he’d done to them, what he made them into. But now it hurt in a whole new way to look at them.

He’d found his children, but still lost them all the same. He could not fix them.

The process of them regaining their full minds would be a very slow one, if it was even possible. He had no idea if his light affected Void creatures’ minds. The Wastelands could have erased their minds permanently.

They could be stuck like this forever.

It didn’t matter. He’d take them home, and keep them as safe and comfortable as he could, protect them from the infection tot he very end. And hopefully, in that time, he’ll find another way to save his kingdom...

Rock Bottom— A Moneymakers AU, Part 2

This is an AU fanfic based on the Moneymakers series by @coldresolve, I highly recommend reading it before reading this! Moneymakers masterlist here, part one here.

~~

He spent the first half of the car ride fidgeting with the knives in his pockets, nursing his joint and fantasizing all the ways he’d get revenge on this guy when he had the chance. And just when he had almost been able to forget the bleak reality in front of him… 

“You asked for drugs. What do you use other than weed and cocaine?” Corbin asked shortly. “I don’t want you dying on me if it’s serious.” 

“It’d be easier to list what I haven’t done,” Renee muttered, shifting his grip on the hilt of his switchblade and hitting his joint again as if to prove himself. “Not heroin. Not meth. Other than weed and shit, it’s mostly benzos and cocaine, some molly here and there. If you provide… I’ll go with it. I won’t fight. I’ll do whatever you want for your fucking streams.” 

It pained him to say it, but he was out of options. 

But Corbin only laughed. “I’ve dealt with worse than you, my friend. I’ll make  you do anything I want, drugs or not. If you want a single hit after tonight, you’ll have to earn it.” 

And without even thinking, Renee lashed out with the knife. He went for the throat without hesitation, scrambling to jerk Corbin away from the wheel as he slashed desperately, praying for the catch of steel meeting flesh. Instead, the blade swiped uselessly through air as Corbin slammed on the brakes with a sickening screech. The man had a vice grip on Renee’s wrist before he knew what was happening, twisted his arm until he cried out, the blade tumbling from his fingers. 

“I didn’t want to have to do this right now,” he snapped, pulling onto the road’s shoulder and shoving the transmission into park. He kept the gun trained on Renee the whole time, his aim not wavering for even a second. 

“Get out of the fucking car, don’t try to run. Disposing of your body would be a hassle, but if you deem yourself worse when kept alive, I won’t hesitate.” 

He got out of the driver’s side and slammed the door shut, eyes narrowing when Renee stayed in his seat, taking a last drag of his joint as he got a grip on the smaller karambit he’d kept tucked into his waistband. 

Corbin wrenched the door open and dragged Renee out with a vice grip on his shoulder. 

He landed a practiced blow to the back of his knees, and Renee hit the ground with a grunt, the car’s headlights nearly blinding him as he fell into their path. He was better than this. He had to be if he wanted to survive. 

He scrambled to his feet, swiping up at Corbin’s neck  with the smaller, wickedly curved knife. Yet instead of finding purchase in the man’s trachea, he felt the cold, hard barrel of a gun at his chest, keeping him mere inches from his target. 

“Anyone ever tell you not to bring a knife to a gun fight?” He taunted.  “Game’s up, my friend. Empty your fucking pockets before I take a kneecap as a welcome gift.” 

Despite himself, Renee complied. There was nothing left in there but a lighter, his house key, a pair of brass knuckles, and one last butterfly knife, and Corbin snatched the belongings with ease. 

“Looks like you’re learning,” he smirked. 

And if Renee didn’t still have the last dregs of mellow relaxation in his system, he would have decked the guy. As it was, he just clenched his hands into fists. 

“Now take off your jacket,” Corbin ordered sharply. When Renee faltered, he pointed the gun at his leg, which was enough to kick him into overdrive— he shed his hoodie in the blink of an eye and tossed it over bitterly, his jaw clenched so tightly that his lips had turned into a thin line across his face. 

When Corbin was satisfied nothing else had been hidden in the jacket, he shifted the gun to rest against Renee’s jaw and ran his other hand under his shirt, releasing a snide wolf whistle as he felt the barbell at his nipple. 

“Not bad,” he murmured delightedly, his hand wandering to Renee’s waist. 

And although he knew the whole ordeal was probably just a means to get a reaction from him, Renee couldn’t help but squirm at the touch. 

Corbin was obviously pissed that Renee didn’t have anything else on him— no new excuses to shove him around. But he nodded his satisfaction and stepped away, shoving Renee’s hoodie back into his arms.  

“Get back in the car. Try me again, and I’ll make good on that brilliant idea I had to shoot your knees out.” 

And as much as Renee hated obeying, he knew Corbin wouldn’t hesitate to follow through with the threat. He knew that wild look in his eyes, that reckless tone of voice, he knew it all too well. 

He dragged himself back to the passenger seat, slamming the car door because it was the nearest, most helpless object for his anger. He wished he had Conrad back, just so he could smash his head into a table or bury a knife into his shoulder whenever he fancied. It was certainly a more effective form of catharsis. 

Corbin drove without a word for what felt like hours, and by the utter lack of street lights around them, it was clear that Renee was being dragged out into the middle of nowhere. 

By the time the car rolled to a stop, Renee was exhausted. He itched to do a line, his hands shook with need for a cigarette, and his chest ached from the sheer stress of it all. 

He flinched when Corbin slammed the car door shut, drawn out of his miserable trance into a much more horrific reality. All this shit he’d done to Conrad, and now it was going to be done to him. 

Call that a healthy fucking dose of karma. 

the priory of the orange tree  -  samantha shannon  sentence starters change tenses/pronouns as needed !!  some lines have been edited for clarity / length / ease of roleplaying tw ;   death ,  pregnancy 

‘all the world is a cage in a young girl’s eyes.’

‘there is great power in stories.’

‘all stories grow from a seed of truth. they are knowledge after figuration.’

‘I see through your mask. I see what’s in your heart. it’s the same as what’s in mine. ambition.’

‘have we met? don’t tell me, you’re plainly a fool, and I have no interest in befriending fools.’

‘i’ve always rather fancied an adventure.’

‘oh, come, (name). you know why this is happening. everyone tried to warn you.’

‘what I know is less important than what the world sees.’

‘all you see, in the end, is what I want you to see. such is politics.’

‘this mission may not seem survivable but you never know.’

‘you have ambition. ever apologize for that.’

‘you won’t miss me so much. when you soar above the clouds, we will all seem very small down here.’

‘where I am, I am with you.’

‘what did I do to deserve you turning up to threaten what little I have left of an existence?’

‘you’re old enough to know that not all dreams should be pursued, especially not dreams conceived on the featherbed of love.’

‘trust me. you can do nothing here but die.’

‘I have an interest in survival. I suggest you nurture one, too.’

‘we may be small, and we may be young, but we shake the world for our beliefs.’

‘now I know your secret, and it reeks far worse than mine.’

‘you have not seen death. you have only seen the mask we put on it.’

‘I prefer the taste of mercy. it lets me sleep at night.’

‘rain is water, and so are we. will water defeat you?’

‘you should do as you see fit. there will always be voices telling you what to do, and how to act, but it is you who wears the crown.’

‘you do speak comely words. I wonder if you mean them.’

‘all courts will fall prey to affection and deceit, often veiled as courtesy. but I like to believe that I speak from the heart.’

‘I suspect you fear that your skill will slip between your fingers if you loosen your grip for even a moment.’

‘remember, (name), that a sword does not need to be whetted at all hours to keep it sharp.’

‘dreams reach deep into our pasts.’

‘I do not sleep because I am not only afraid of the monsters at my door, but also of the monsters my own mind can conjure. the ones that live within.’

‘you wear so much armor by daylight that, by night, you can carry it no longer. by night, you are only flesh.’

‘in darkness, we are named our truest selves. night is when fear comes to us at its fullest, when we have no way to fight.’

‘fear will do everything it can to seep inside you. sometimes it may succeed — but never think that you are the night.’

‘balance is necessary in all things, (name) — it doesn’t not equate to disrespect.’

‘I never wanted an adventure. not even one.’

‘monsters often have soft faces. they know how to mask themselves.’

‘how is it you always know what to say to comfort me?’

‘you use the suffering of others for your own gain.’

‘I did not do it out of kindness. I did it because I wanted my life to run a smooth course.’

‘that disappoints me. that dishonors you. but not beyond forgiveness.’

‘that is not the question you must ask. you must ask what we must do.’

‘I have never had any great inclination toward marriage. not the sort of marriage those of royal blood must make — born not of love, but fear of isolation. yet if I refrain the world will stand in judgement.’

‘childing is not always easy. no one talks openly about the difficulties. the discomfort. the uncertainty. so now you feel the weight of your condition, you believe yourself alone in it.’

‘your fear is natural. let no one tell you otherwise.’

‘I am not quite sure what I did without you.’

‘just once, I wanted to be fearless. to take a risk.’

‘try not to be irritating.’

‘I fear death too much to seek it.’

‘my will was not always what it is now. once I was as molten glass, yet to be spun into shape. I sense I have taken a shape she mislikes.’

‘I told you fear was natural, but you must not let it consume you. not when there is so much at stake.’

‘I despise all of you, overweening crows. all any of you think about is what you can peck from me.’

‘you had a great burden to bear, and you bore it bravely.’

‘you have tried to turn yourself to stone. do not be afeared to find that you have not.’

‘fool. I would not be compelled by you or anyone. have I not always given you truth?’

‘you have a ghost, (name). do not become a ghost yourself.’

‘I am a meddler, not a fool.’

‘the water in you has grown stagnant, (name), but it is not beyond cleansing.’

‘you say you desire truth, but truth is a weave with many threads.’

‘I don’t know if I trust the woman you are but I trust the woman I knew.’

‘I confess I am what you would call a sorceress, but no magic is evil. it is what the wielder makes it.’

‘all of us have shadows in us. I accept yours. and I hope you will also accept mine.’

‘you told me we would meet again. I did not want to make you a liar.’

‘blood is never the way forward.’

‘no. you are another dream. you come here to torment me.’

‘fair roses have grown from twisted seeds.’

‘piety can turn the power-hungry into monsters. they can twist any teaching to justify their actions.’

‘I hope you did not keep it from me because you thought I would judge you.’

‘I think you a self-righteous fool whose head is harder than a rock. and I would not change you for the world.’

‘just because something has always been done does not mean that it ought to be done.’

‘(name), you know I love you, but the sense in your head could fit in a thimble.’

‘my mother always said it was best to receive bad news in winter, when everything is already dark. so one can heal for spring.’

‘I know you must go. to ask you to stay would be like trying to cage the wind.’

‘my heart knows your song, as yours knows mine. and I will always come back to you.’

‘for what I have done, I deserve hardship. it’s my fault (name) is dead.’

‘it has been peaceful here but my blood is the sea, and it cannot be still.’

‘do not deny yourself the privilege of living.’

‘the world is full of fools. and they are never more foolish than when they smell eternal life.’

‘who I am and who I was are none of your concern.’

‘I will not kill you this night but what you see before your is a ghost. when you least expect it, I will return to haunt you. I will hunt you to the ends of the earth.’

‘look upon my work. all this destruction is because of you.’

‘you have no choice but to trust me.’

‘to die in the service of a better world would be the highest honor.’

‘let us not think of the future this night. it is not yet dawn. we still have time for airy hopes.’

‘you impress me. I had not thought that one heart could hold such rancor.’

‘you cannot fathom the depth of the enmity I have felt for you. I have cursed your name with every sunrise.’

‘you preyed on me. I was young and afraid and I confided my deepest fear to you.’

‘you always come back. like a weed.’

‘I fell into shadow, and now I must rise, so I might be a better man.’

‘you can’t trust him. he would sell his soul for a handful of silver.’

‘I have no soul to sell. but I may yet earn one.’

‘leave me to my shadows. i’m afraid they are all I have left.’

‘being your friend is quite a strenuous affair, you know.’

‘it will hurt me, to hurt you. you are mine.’

‘I will teach my heart to beat again.’

‘some truths are safest buried. some castles best kept in the sky.’

Kirumi Tojo x Reader (Comfort/Tribute)

Word count: 1305

Gender Neutral

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

“Shush, now. Your negativity won’t hurt while I’m here.”

…But she wasn’t. While I’m here. Those words echoed in my mind, bringing out more tears every time. I can hear her, just yesterday, comforting me.

If I closed my eyes maybe… No, that won’t work. That’ll make it worse. But I can feel it. Her hands on my head as I lay my head on her thighs, sniffling softly as reality finally seeped into my reasoning.

I kept muttering and mumbling how there was no hope. We’d all die. How I just want to give up. Maybe if it was her, it wouldn’t hurt as much.

But her kind hands and fingers running through my hair argued, whispering that they couldn’t ever strike someone to their last breath.

But that was all wrong.

All a lie. Now there was nothing. Nothing…

“I see you’re not feeling today.”

Her warm voice mutters against my ear, rustling tiny strands of my hair that dared to be disturbed.

“Allow me to grant you comfort, if you so desire.”

It seemed so real, even now. I don’t remember how loud I screamed or when the pain I’ve been holding back finally broke. All that rang in my mind was her voice.

Her desperate screaming as she ran. Her desperation to survive. And how I wish there was a mute button when she fell… Her voice… over and over and over.

Desperate and crying. Her voice…

“A kiss and tea, maybe?”

I don’t need you to do that for me. Especially a kiss.

And I’d hear the soft smile in her breath. Her body shifting as she raised her other hand to take a strand of my hair and kiss it- before letting it fall back with the others and brushing hair out my face.

“I insist. It’s my duty after all 🖤”

Those words would hurt so much, they’d be so void if she didn’t say it in the softest voice.

‘Just a job’ would’ve overtaken my senses and made me cry right then and there, hating the fact that I wasn’t actually important and was only another to request… it would’ve been like that if she didn’t lean down and tilt my head to hers with soft gloved fingers.

I can still feel it now, the fabric. The fabric that ended up being her demise… I could feel it.

Her eyelashes closing and fluttering against my skin. I could smell the peppermint coffee and dusky tea from her lips as they met mine.

How gentle they were, how unharming and kind they were. How they tasted vaguely of fancy sauce. It was long.

I could feel her breathe out her nose and her mouth move against mine only once and with hesitation- fearing she’d break the moment. Then her other hand brushed her hair to the side and then mine behind my ear.

I didn’t want to, but I pulled back.

Her eyes opened softly but she didn’t pull away. It wasn’t until I shifted that she sat back up. I opened and closed my hands, my voice unbreathing. I feared that if I spoke it would ruin her lingering taste.

But she seemed to know what I wanted anyway. Of course she did, she’s the Ultimate Maid.

She gave that small smile that melted my heart before putting a finger up to her lips, motioning for me to keep this a secret even though I wouldn’t dream of telling anyone.

She knew I wanted another kiss, but somehow we both knew that if our lips touched again they wouldn’t stop at just the mouth.

She got up slowly, not wanting to break the moment so easily before petting me and whispering that she was getting tea.

By the time she came back I’d throw myself on her, hugging her tightly and starting to cry again. And then she kissed my cheek, the noise of her lips making my heart skip a beat. The tip of her tongue scraped against the wet skin, and she’d keep kissing my cheek over and over before starting to cry herself.

But before a single tear could fall from her face she got up quickly. She wouldn’t meet my eyes and smoothed out her dress before giving a small goodbye and leaving.

I can still feel the worry I had for her. I can still see her eyes watering and her small mouth curling into an angered quivering frown.

Now I fingered my pocket, suddenly realizing that I should’ve shown her the key to the love hotel instead of telling myself to wait. 

Look where waiting got me.

 Sure, we might’ve not actually done anything but it would’ve been so nice to have each other to ourselves for the night.

And she could’ve given me all the kisses she wanted; she could’ve obliged to every one of my silly orders and I could’ve heard her sweet laugh or seen a carefree smile on her lips.

Maybe… maybe if I did that she would still be alive.

There would’ve been no time for murder. And maybe she could’ve told me the truth. She could of told me what she wanted. She could have told me what I wanted.

All I wanted was to be hers.

I really couldn’t stop the tears now. Every time I taught myself to keep the pain in. But now I really just couldn’t. I couldn’t bring myself to get up and tear my eyes away. It wouldn’t matter.

This image would be engraved in my head forever.

The small pool of sprayed blood around what should’ve been her right hand. A hole where her heart should have been beating. If only she were here now… If only she could somehow stand up and kiss my lips again and tell me everything would be alright.

Your negativity won’t hurt while-

I shook my head and didn’t even want that sentence to finish. I just wanted the girl I loved back.

Everyone tried to comfort me, but in the end they gave up and left.

Somehow the only one to stay was Tenko. She put a hand on my shoulder, tears flowing out of her eyes more than mine.

“It shouldn’t have been her…”

We stayed there. She tried to hold back her tears and eventually did.

I didn’t.

She asked in a small voice if I was coming. And I had to force myself to respond with an even smaller ‘no’. It was obvious she was hesitant, but she knew there was nothing she or anyone could do to make me leave Kirumi. And I’m thankful. I’m really thankful she tried. 

I whimpered and pulled my knees up to my chest, imagining myself laying on Kirumi’s thighs again and her lips and her hands.

“Don’t cry.” 

The voice was small and sad and barely a breath. I forced myself to shut up for even a second, seeing if I imagined it. I had to be. There was no way… No way.. That… 

A hand touched my cheek. 

“I’m sorry we never got to feel each other’s hearts. I hope… I hope you remember my love for you.”

I swear I felt lips on my forehead. I cried more, knowing this was some cruel trick of the world. 

“Open your eyes.” 

I didn’t want to, but I had to. How could I ever ignore her, real or not? 

What I saw before me wasn’t a mangled unbreathing body drenched in blood.

Kirumi Tojo was on her knees. She gave me a smile. Her scratched and single bloody hand took mine and brought my knuckles to her unbreathing dead lips.

I knew this wasn’t real.

Even so, I couldn’t ignore the fact that her breath was warm on my fingers when she spoke.

“I’m happy to have been yours… Please. Live.”

Okay so. I have a plan for Joce and D.raxum before they have their first kiss. Where they almost kiss. And it was slow at work today so all I did was think about this and now I cannot stop thinking about it right now so I’m gonna ramble about the idea and HOPEFULLY write it out soon hehe

Some slight warnings of injuries and D.raxum being shirtless but it’s nothing bad:

But I’m thinking everyone gets involved in a fight with some villain or the Foot Clan, and Draxum gets injured. Not bad, and he hides it very well.

Until they both get back to their apartment complex and Joce notices he seems to be in pain. He’s unable to hide it now. But he’s home. He can wrap it up real quick and sleep it off.

But Joce being Joce, presses him about it. She worries about the well being of her loved ones, maybe too much for her own good:

“Barry, you’re hurt.”

“I’m fine. I’ve dealt with worse.”

“I think you’re bleeding-”

And sure enough, he is bleeding. It’s not a bad cut, but definitely needs to be cleaned and bandaged.

Draxun keeps insisting he can handle himself just fine, but Joce keeps insisting she helps him. Both of them are way too stubborn for their own good so they go back and forth.

But Joce keeps staring up at him with those big ol’ blue eyes of hers, and he can see how much she really is worried for him. And he’s weak for her. He’ll never admit it, he can’t swallow his pride for long enough to admit it. But he gives in. Allows her to help him. He knows she won’t rest or stop worrying until she knows for a fact he’s okay.

So they go into his apartment, and he tells her where his supplies are while he removes the top of his robe. The injury very conveniently happens to be on his chest hehe

At this point, Joce as seen him shirtless. But hasn’t. Paid much attention due to the fact she nearly almost always passes out if he is around her.

But she kind of pushes past her embarrassment and flusteredness to patch him up. And this is where she notices he has a lot of scars.

(Some artists I’ve seen draw him with a few on his face from where his mask cracked from the dark armor incident in season one and. I kinda like the idea so im running with that)

She knows about the faint ones on his face. And figured he’d have a few. But he’s nearly covered in them. His fur mostly covers them but they’re still visible.

So after she’s done patching him up, she just. Kind of traces her fingers over some of them, asking how he got so many.

He tells her how he’s been fighting for most of his life. How he witnessed humans hunting down yokai and pushing them underground. How he tried to fight back and how humans didn’t like it when he stood up to them. How hard he pushed himself to become the strongest and most powerful warrior the Hidden City has ever seen.

And you don’t come out of that unscathed.

He doesn’t tell her about his family though. He isn’t ready to talk about that just yet.

While Joce realized he had his reasons for what he did, it’s here it starts to settle in that all he’s ever known was fighting. He’s been in survival mode for god knows how long.

No wonder he’s so uptight and has so many walls up. She can see her and Mikey have been chipping away at those walls, but she finally sees a crack in it and is going to break through.

And she just. Throws her arms around his shoulders and hugs him. Tight.

It takes Draxum off guard, but he leans into her touch, finally relaxes as he wraps his arms around her.

They’ve hugged before. She’s fallen asleep on him many a times. It’s not like this is the first time physical affection between them has occurred

But it’s still different this time. He’s being vulnerable with her and showing her a side of him no one but his family had seen before. And he’s never been treated so gently since.

His hold only tightens on her, afraid she’ll vanish if he does. He can’t lose her. He won’t lose her.

When Joce realizes how long she’s been holding him, she very sheepishly pulls away and apologizes, saying she let her emotions get the better of her. He keeps a hold on her though, hands resting firmly on her waist to keep her there.

It’s quiet between them, and both of them are contemplating whether they should just say fuck it and finally kiss the other.

And I got a little blurb written here hehe:

“Jocelyn…” Draxum pulled her closer, “I’m… not the best with words.”

“It’s fine,” Jocelyn swallowed the growing lump in her throat, her hands resting on his chest, “Neither am I.”

Jocelyn felt butterflies in her stomach as one of his hands reached up and brushed her hair out of her face, coming to rest on her cheek, gently stroking his thumb across her skin. Despite the anxiety, she leaned into his touch and gave a small sigh, her eyes fluttering shut.

It felt so right. Just sharing this moment with him. Being in his arms. She almost hated how comfortable she felt with him, and how badly she just wanted to lean in and press her lips against his, and just kiss him until neither of them could breathe anymore.

But was she ready to confront her feelings right now?

This is where Draxum starts to lean in to kiss her, and she almost lets him

But blondie here is afraid of her feelings. And cannot handle them to save her life. So she pushes away.

Confused, Draxum asks if she’s okay and she very shortly responds that she’s fine, she just needs to rest. And he offers to let her spend the night, which she rejects. She needs to be alone, she’s under a lot of stress:

“I’m just concerned-”

“You don’t need to be!” Jocelyn snapped, pushing his hand away. He frowned at her and Jocelyn took a deep breath, “Sorry, sorry. That was uncalled for. I’m. Under a lot of stress right now.”

“Then let me help you,” Draxum took her hands, and again, Jocelyn pulled away.

“Stop that,” she muttered, still not making eye contact with him, “You’re making it harder.”

“What do you mean?” Draxum was confused. What was he doing wrong?

“Again. It’s been a very, very stressful day. We both need rest, and I think it’s better if I just go back to my own place,” Jocelyn stepped back from him, reaching for the door handle, “Goodnight, Barry.”

“Jocelyn-”

She barely gave him time to respond before she darted across the hall to her apartment, not even looking back at him.

And this is where Joce starts going downhill right before her big breakdown with the Elsa moment. She’s so confused and conflicted on her feelings for him, and on top of that is trying to hide her ever growing powers that are getting harder and hard to control.

This leads into her fight with the rest of the family, her running off to the Hidden City to try and rid herself of these powers, her running into Big Mama who claims she can help Joce, the rest of the family coming after her, ANOTHER huge fight where everyone is. Kind of insisting they personally know what’s best for Joce, her having her Elsa Moment, then THE KISS.

Anyways I got SO much for this ship planned y’all don’t even know the half of it-