"I want to be great, or nothing." - amy march ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

overhated female characters mean the world to me and i will protect them with my life because fandoms have no right to judge them for acting like someone who went through unimaginable trauma and call them annoying for their understandable behavior.

NESSIAN ⚔️

*Do not steal/copy/print or reupload to any other platforms without permission. Reblogs appreciated!

I love u angry female characters. I love u deeply misunderstood and problematic female characters. I love u cold hearted and sharp female characters. I love you prideful and reckless female characters. I love u unbeautifly destructive female characters. I love u prickly and snarky female characters. not everyone understands u but I do and I'm listening

something something despite the all horrors and tragedies of the world, love was there and that's all that matters

i’m still:

ര ۪ ݁ ! amy march 𝅄 ౨ৎ ㅤ۪

read literature. be present. make love. make tea. write a poem. cry. watch a sappy movie that makes you want to throw things at it. paint your nails. cook something. call your best friend. learn an instrument. wonder. take a bath. go for a walk. lie down on the grass. listen to the entirety of ur favorite album from 2016. take pics of sunsets. ponder. shamelessly dance in your room. curl up on your bed. make endless wishes to the stars twinkling in the midnight sky. think about nothing. think about everything. think about things so hard that you barely remember what happened moments ago and why you’re feeling the way you do

“She surfes waves as big as houses and jumps off anything. She has skin that fits and friends and Dad and The Sweetwine Gift and gills and fins in addition to lungs and feet. She gives off light.”

— Jandy Nelson, I’ll Give You The Sun

BFB (j.t.)

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Warnings: Descriptions of fire, burns and shoulder dislocation

Word Count: 7.5k

Summary: Jason doesn’t want to be seen as your best friend’s brother anymore. Jason Todd yearns for 7k words

A/N: Again I feel like this played out better in my head honestly but oh well, it is what it is

wharf cats

[ok I know none of you follow this for me so I'm sorry and I hope I did an ok job and I'm sorry in advance omg I'm gonna hurl]

Finnick Odair x fem!reader who feeds the wharf cats [802 words]

CW: gameless au, district accurate activities, reader comes off maybe a touch shy, fluff, writers first time writing for this fandom (or any fandom other than my current one so be nice pleaseeee)

You hear them before you see them; bare feet landing on the damp and densely packed sand on the stretch of beach one could only access by scaling the rock wall at low tide. 

You respond to the mewing by letting out a few pspsps’s to the - as of yet - invisible cats which is all it takes for them to start materializing in front of you. Many stepping out from behind various boulders lining the jetty of the wharf.

“There you are, babies.” You coo as you bend down, scritching the heads of the kittens who make it to you first. “Hello, my loves.”

You dig into the mesh bag you brought with you to retrieve the cheap cans of tuna you’d picked up at the market, cutting them open - laughing and tutting at the cats for pawing at it before you were finished - before you poured it out into the sand for them to share. 

“You know cats are master fishers, right?” A voice calls from above you, causing you to squint up into the sun to see Finnick Odair leaning over the jetty wall as he watched you with the cats.

Y/N wasn’t sure when she had started waiting for Xaden Riorson.

Maybe it had been back at Basgiath, when she first let him into her bed, knowing full well she’d never have his heart.

Maybe it had been after a battle, when he pulled her into his arms with shaking hands, holding on too tight—like he wasn’t sure if she’d still be there if he let go.

Maybe it had been always. And maybe that was the problem. Because Xaden never chose her. Not really. Not in the way that mattered.

And yet, Y/N had let herself believe—stupidly, hopelessly believe—that one day, he would. That one day, he’d look at her and see more. But she saw the truth now.

Because he was looking at her. At Violet Sorrengail. And Gods help her, Y/N had never seen his eyes that soft before.

Her breath caught, something sharp and vicious tearing through her chest. Because she knew that look. She had dreamed of that look. But it had never been for her.

Her fingers curled into fists at her sides, nails biting into her palms. Because of course it was Violet. Violet, who had fought her way through Basgiath. Violet, who had tamed Xaden’s dragon’s mate—a dragon that should’ve never chosen her. Violet, who had done in months what Y/N had never been able to do.

She had his heart.

And Y/N—

Y/N had never even been close.

Her throat burned. Because this wasn’t just losing him. She had never had him to begin with. And that was the part that hurt the most.

Xaden turned then, his gaze flicking toward her—and for one awful, unbearable second, their eyes met. His expression shifted. Like he knew. Like he understood exactly what she was thinking. Like he felt guilt. But guilt wasn’t love. Guilt wasn’t choosing her.

And Y/N was done waiting for something that was never hers to begin with. So she forced her lips into something that might’ve been a smile—might’ve looked real if it weren’t for the way her heart was cracking, splintering, breaking apart piece by piece.

And then—

She turned and walked away. Because almost didn’t count. Not anymore.

⸻

Xaden noticed immediately.

The first time Y/N wasn’t there—wasn’t where she always was—he ignored it.

The second time, something cold curled in his stomach.

The third time, he knew. She was avoiding him.

And Xaden Riorson did not handle losing well. Especially not when he hadn’t even realized he was playing a game.

He caught glimpses of her—passing shadows, fleeting moments before she turned the corner, before she slipped away.

And he let her. For a while. Because Gods help him, he didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know why it felt like his chest was hollowing out every time he realized she wasn’t coming back. Didn’t know why her absence felt sharper than any blade, more suffocating than any battle wound.

Until the fourth time.

Until he saw her with someone else. She wasn’t laughing. Wasn’t even smiling. But she was trying.

And Xaden—stupid, oblivious, undeserving Xaden—finally understood. It wasn’t just that she was avoiding him.

She was moving on.

And that, he realized, was unforgivable. Not because she didn’t deserve to. But because he should’ve never let her think she had to. Because Y/N had always been there. In the quiet moments, in the war-torn ones. In his bed, in his arms.

He had never needed to wonder where she would be. Until now. Until he fucked it all up.

And Xaden Riorson didn’t lose things he wasn’t willing to fight for.

So he found her.

Cornered her.

Late at night, when she was least expecting it. When she had finally stopped looking over her shoulder for him. Because she thought he wouldn’t come. Because he had given her every reason to believe that.

But she was wrong.

Xaden pressed a hand against the doorframe, blocking her escape as she turned to find him standing there, his expression raw, desperate, furious.

She froze. Her breath hitched.

And Xaden had to clench his fists to keep himself from reaching for her. Because Gods help him, he had never wanted anything more.

But Y/N—

Y/N only tilted her head, her voice flat when she said, “Move.”

Xaden let out a slow, measured breath. “No.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Xaden—”

“You walked away,” he cut her off, his voice quiet, sharp. “And I let you.”

Her jaw clenched. “So what, now you’re here to fix your conscience?”

No.

It had never been about guilt. It had always been about her. But she didn’t see that. Because he had never let her see it. Because he had let her believe she was temporary.

Xaden stepped closer, the air shifting between them.

“You think I didn’t notice?” His voice was low, rough, almost dangerous.

Because it wasn’t just noticing. It was feeling. Feeling her absence in every empty space she had left behind. Feeling the ache in his chest every time he looked for her and found nothing. Feeling like a fucking idiot for never realizing that she had been his before he even knew he had something to lose.

Y/N exhaled sharply, shaking her head. “Don’t do this, Xaden.”

“Do what?” he murmured.

Her throat bobbed. “Make this harder than it has to be.”

He let out a quiet, humorless laugh.

“Hard?” He stepped even closer. “You think this is hard for you?”

Her breath caught, but she didn’t move back. Didn’t run. And that was the only thing that kept him fucking standing. Because she was still here. Still listening. Still his, even if she didn’t want to be.

Xaden swallowed hard, his voice dropping to something honest, something wrecked.

“I can’t lose you.”

She blinked.

Like she hadn’t expected the words. Like she didn’t believe them.

And that? That nearly killed him. Because fuck, she had spent all this time thinking she was something he could just let go.

Like she hadn’t been his every damn day. Like she wasn’t the thing that had kept him breathing, fighting, alive.

“I can’t lose you,” he said again, softer this time.

And Gods help him, it was the truest thing he had ever said.

Her breath shuddered. Her hands fisted at her sides.

And for a long, unbearable moment—

She didn’t say a word. Didn’t tell him to leave. Didn’t tell him it was too late.

And Xaden—for the first time in his life—let himself hope.

Because Y/N had walked away.

But maybe—just maybe—she wasn’t ready to let him go either.

⸻

Y/N didn’t make it easy for him.

She didn’t fall into his arms. Didn’t sigh in relief and tell him she had been waiting for him all along.

Because that would have been a lie.

She had stopped waiting. Stopped hoping for something he had never been willing to give her.

And if he thought a few pretty words were enough to pull her back into his orbit—

He was wrong.

Xaden must have realized it too. Because the moment she narrowed her eyes, the moment she crossed her arms and tilted her chin up, his expression turned grim. Like he knew exactly what she was about to say. Like he knew she was going to make this hard.

And for once—finally—he didn’t run from it.

Y/N exhaled slowly, carefully.

“Prove it.”

Xaden’s jaw ticked. “I am.”

“No,” she said, voice sharp, cold. “You’re saying it. That’s not the same thing.”

A muscle feathered in his jaw. “Then tell me how.”

Y/N let out a humorless laugh.

“You want me to tell you how to love me?” she murmured, tilting her head. “That’s funny, Xaden. I thought love was supposed to be instinctual.”

His fingers curled into tight, shaking fists.

“Y/N—”

“No,” she cut him off. “You don’t get to show up and say you can’t lose me after choosing her every single time.”

His lips parted—but he didn’t argue.

Because he couldn’t.

Because it was true.

And Gods help her, the silence was worse than any excuse he could have given her.

Because he knew. He had always known.

She let out a slow breath, forcing herself to stay standing when all she wanted to do was crumple.

She had promised herself she wouldn’t break for him again. But gods, he was making it hard.

“I need to know I’m not just an afterthought,” she said, her voice low, steady.

He lifted his head at that, his eyes flashing with something dark, something wrecked.

“You’ve never been an afterthought,” he said, his voice sharp, furious. “Not to me.”

Y/N’s chest ached. But she shook her head.

“Then prove it.”

And this time, he didn’t hesitate.

⸻

Xaden knew it was coming. Because Gods help him, she was right.

She had never been an afterthought. But the problem was—neither was Violet. Not with their dragons bonded for life. Not with their destinies tangled, whether they wanted it or not. Not with the war, with Basgiath, with everything.

But Y/N wasn’t going to be a second choice. Not anymore. And that meant he had to prove it.

Starting with Sgaeyl.

It wasn’t a secret that his dragon favored Y/N. Sgaeyl had always preferred her, had always sought her out over Violet, despite the bond between their dragons.

Xaden had always thought it was amusing.

But now—

Now, it wasn’t a game. Because Sgaeyl had chosen. And Xaden wasn’t sure what that meant for everything else. Y/N stood in the clearing, arms crossed as she watched him. Not angry. Not hopeful. Just waiting.

Sgaeyl’s head turned toward him. “Fix this,” she said in his mind. “Now.”

Xaden exhaled sharply. “You tell me how,” he muttered.

Sgaeyl let out a deep, considering hum. Then, she said, “I cannot break a bond that is not mine.”

Xaden stilled.

Because that—that was new. Y/N raised a brow. “Well?” Xaden let out a slow, careful breath.

“There’s only one way to prove it,” he admitted.

Her brows lifted. “And that is?”

Xaden swallowed. “Choose you over her.”

Y/N’s lips parted. And Xaden waited.

Because Gods help him, he was finally choosing. And this time, he prayed to every god that ever existed that he wasn’t too late.

⸻

Xaden Riorson had spent his entire life fighting for survival.

Fighting for power. For revenge. For a future that wasn’t dictated by the sins of his father. But he had never fought for love. Never had to.

Because until now, he had never been at risk of losing the one person he couldn’t live without.

And Y/N—Gods help him—was making damn sure he earned every second of her time.

The tension between Xaden and Violet was palpable.

It had been since the moment Sgaeyl had chosen Y/N over her. Not that Violet had ever been oblivious to it. She was smart. Too smart. She had noticed the way Sgaeyl sought Y/N out first. The way Xaden’s gaze always lingered on her. The way Y/N had started to disappear.

And now? Now, Violet wasn’t oblivious at all.

Xaden found her waiting for him outside the barracks, arms crossed, her expression cool, calculating.

“I didn’t want to believe it,” she said simply.

Xaden didn’t pretend not to know what she meant. Instead, he exhaled sharply. “But you did.”

She nodded. “I saw the way she looked at you.”

His stomach tightened.

“More importantly,” Violet continued, tilting her head. “I saw the way you looked at her.”

Xaden didn’t answer. Because there was nothing to deny.

She let out a slow breath. “This is going to make things… complicated.”

It already was. With their dragons bonded, their destinies were already tangled. But that wasn’t the same as love. And Violet knew it.

“Then we make it uncomplicated,” Xaden said, steady, certain.

Her lips parted slightly. Because they both knew what that meant. What that had to mean. They couldn’t be more than what they were. Couldn’t blur the lines. Couldn’t pretend their dragons’ bond was the same as their own. Because Xaden had made his choice. And it wasn’t her.

For a long moment, Violet was silent. Then, finally, she nodded. And Gods help him, Xaden felt it shift.

The last thread of uncertainty snapping.

Because for the first time—truly, fully, undeniably—he was free to fight for the person he should have been fighting for all along.

⸻

It wasn’t enough.

Not to prove himself. Not to undo the damage he had caused. Because Y/N wasn’t an idiot. She wasn’t going to fall at his feet just because he had finally woken up. So she made him work for it.

She didn’t let him touch her. Didn’t let him fall into old habits. Didn’t let him have her until she was sure she had all of him. Because if he wanted her—really wanted her—it had to be all or nothing.

Xaden gritted his teeth when she dodged him for the fourth time in a week. He had done everything. Given her space. Let her set the pace. But fuck if he wasn’t losing his mind.

Because every time he caught a glimpse of her, every time her gaze locked with his across the training yard, every time she turned away before he could say something—

It felt like a slow, torturous death. So when he finally cornered her—again—she didn’t look surprised. Didn’t look apologetic.

Just calm. Waiting. Testing him.

Xaden exhaled slowly, measured.

“What else do you want from me?”

Y/N tilted her head. Unmoved. “I don’t want anything from you, Xaden.”

His chest tightened.

“Then why are you still here?” His voice was quiet, dangerous.

She smirked, but there was no warmth in it.

“I’m not. You’re the one chasing me, remember?”

His lips parted. Because fuck. She wasn’t wrong. He was chasing her. The way she used to chase him. And Gods help him, it was terrifying. Because for the first time, she held all the power. And he—the one who had spent his entire life controlling every possible outcome—was at her mercy.

“I know I fucked up,” he admitted, his voice rough, raw.

Her smirk faded.

“But I also know,” he continued, his eyes dark, intense, unrelenting, “that you’re still standing here. Which means a part of you wants to see if I’ll fight for you.”

She inhaled sharply. But she didn’t deny it. And Xaden knew. Knew she still wanted him. Knew this wasn’t about whether she had feelings for him. It was about whether he deserved them.

And Gods help him, he would spend the rest of his life proving that he did.

⸻

Xaden Riorson had always thought he understood pain.

The bite of a blade, the snap of broken ribs, the searing agony of dragon fire. But this—watching Y/N slip through his fingers, watching her smile at someone who wasn’t him—this was a different kind of torment.

Because she wasn’t his to lose. Not yet. And Gods help him, she was making him suffer for it.

He saw her again.

With him.

The first time, Xaden convinced himself it was nothing.

The second time, he clenched his fists but stayed quiet.

The third time?

He barely stopped himself from snapping the bastard’s neck.

Y/N stood close to the other rider—too close. Her head tilted back as she laughed at something he said.

Not forced. Not polite.

Real.

Xaden felt something dark and ugly curl in his stomach. Something he had never had to experience before.

Jealousy.

Not the petty kind. The kind that ate away at his fucking soul. Because that used to be him. That used to be his space beside her. His words making her laugh. His gaze catching hers across the training yard, a secret flickering between them.

But now?

Now, he was nothing more than a spectator. And Gods help him, it was driving him insane.

Sgaeyl’s voice rumbled in his mind. “You could simply go to her.”

His jaw tightened. No. Not yet. Not until she was ready. Not until she was the one choosing him again. But Gods help him, if she didn’t stop smiling at that bastard soon, he was going to—

“You’re scowling.”

Xaden whipped around to find Violet watching him, arms crossed.

He exhaled sharply. “I’m aware.”

Violet smirked. “Not a fan of Y/N’s new friend?”

He shot her a glare.

She laughed. “Oh, relax. They’re not like that.”

Xaden stilled. “What?”

Violet arched a brow. “You really think she’s replaced you that easily?”

His throat felt tight. “I don’t know what to think.”

Violet sighed, shaking her head. “It’s platonic. You’d know that if you stopped sulking in the shadows and actually talked to her.”

Xaden gritted his teeth. “She’s the one avoiding me.”

“Is she?”

That fucking smirk. Violet had always been too perceptive for her own good. And the worst part? She wasn’t wrong.

It happened on a stormy night. When the tension was so thick it felt like it could snap.

Y/N had gone to the training grounds, seeking solitude.

But of course, Xaden followed.

She sensed him before he spoke. Always did. But she didn’t turn around. Didn’t acknowledge him.

Until—

“I know it’s platonic,” he said quietly.

She stiffened. Then slowly turned to face him. “Excuse me?”

Xaden took a step closer, his gaze unreadable.

“I know you’re not with him.”

Y/N tilted her head, something dangerous and mocking in her eyes.

“And?”

Xaden exhaled sharply. “And it doesn’t fucking matter.”

Her lips parted slightly. Because this was different. This wasn’t him asking for another chance. This wasn’t him chasing her, hoping she’d let him in. This was him standing his ground. Him refusing to pretend he wasn’t hers.

“I don’t care if you’re not with him,” he said, voice low, steady.

“I don’t care how long you make me wait. How hard you make this.”

He stepped closer.

Crowding her. Consuming her.

“I don’t care if you never admit that you still love me,” he murmured. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

Y/N’s breath caught.

Because Gods help her, she had spent weeks waiting for him to crack. To slip back into old habits. To fail. But he hadn’t. He had stayed. Even when she made him suffer. Even when she pushed him away.

Because for the first time, he was fighting for her. And Gods help her, she wanted to believe him. But believing him meant admitting she had never stopped loving him. And that? That was terrifying.

Xaden must have seen it in her eyes. Because his gaze softened, just slightly.

And then, he broke her.

“I was a fool,” he admitted, his voice raw.

“For thinking you’d always be there. For thinking I could have you without giving you everything.”

He swallowed hard.

“But I’m here now.”

A pause. Then, the final blow.

“And I’m not leaving. Not ever.”

Y/N shattered. Because fuck, she wanted to believe him.

And maybe—

Maybe she finally did.

She let out a shaky breath. And then, finally, she stopped running.

Xaden barely had time to react before she grabbed the front of his shirt and crashed her lips against his. It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t slow. It was desperate, aching, furious. It was everything they had been holding back.

Xaden let out a low, guttural sound, his hands sliding into her hair, gripping her like she might disappear. Like he was never going to let her go. Because he wasn’t. Not this time. Not ever.

And as her fingers tightened around him, as she finally, finally let herself believe him—

Xaden Riorson knew one thing.

The suffering had been worth it. Because in the end, he had won the only war that mattered.

Her.