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nobody0805 · 7 months

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Hello Major

A Jasper Hale x Reader Oneshot

Someone force me to finish chapter 5 before I write more Oneshots god bless.

Warnings: a bit angsty? But also fluffy.

1334 Words

They had known each other for a long time.

He was still human when he got to know her. His eyes were still shining with his young innocence, his body was not ridden with scars.

But most importantly, his heart was still beating.

When he had to leave for the war, he felt terrible for leaving her behind.

He had promised her to write her letters whenever he can, to keep her informed on how he’s doing, if he’s alright, and most importantly to him, to let her know that he still loves her.

To prove his commitment, he had given her a ring. A ring as a promise he will return.

And once he’s back he’ll make her his wife.

And he kept that promise for two years.

His letters had mentioned how he focused his work on saving and evacuating women and children, leaving him riding across the state to make sure everyone was safe.

His letters had also told her about his progress, how he had become the youngest major in the army, even when considering how he had lied about his age to get into the army in the first place.

But it was one letter that broke her heart.

It had arrived in the evening, two weeks after his last letter.

She had been happy, until she saw the expression of the mail carrier.

The man looked sad, almost sorry for her.

And when she finally opened the letter and read through it, her world shattered. Her hand clutched the ring she wore on a necklace, the ring he gave her before he left.

He died.

At least, that’s what the letter told her.

The army expressed their condolences, telling her how sorry they were for having to tell her that Major Jasper Whitlock went missing and presumably died in the war.

Her reaction was conflicted.

She wanted to scream, cry, rip the letter apart, curse whoever was listening and caused this fate for them.

But she didn’t.

Instead she just kept clutching the ring and read the letter over and over again, hoping that this was just some sick joke. That someone just wanted to see her suffer, maybe the mail carrier, maybe someone else.

But even after two more weeks, no new letter arrived.

And she had to accept that it was true.

Jasper had died, the love of her life was dead.

And she was left alone. Unable to even visit a grave, unable to know where he went missing, what he felt, if he had been in pain before it was all over.

And it broke her.

The big unknown broke her.

And in her grief ridden state she decided that it couldn’t be true.

She was in denial, she was angry and in denial.

Her future with the man she loved was ripped away under her feet, and it made her incredibly angry.

So she decided to take her horse and ride to the last position his letters had told her he’d be.

But she couldn’t have expected what would happen to her.

Never in over a hundred years could she have seen this outcome.

——

Jasper Hale, formerly known as Jasper Whitlock, had been living with the Cullens for a few decades now.

He had gotten to know Alice, who turned out to be a great friend to him.

Thanks to her he managed to cope with the fact he never got to see her again, that she had probably died a long time ago.

And especially that he never got to keep his promise.

But it still hurt, of course it hurt.

In this immortal existence, knowing that he lost his love to time while he was stuck in this stupid army, forced to hurt people despite knowing how they felt, forced to follow the orders of the woman, the monster, who changed him and made him like her.

It all hurt so much.

And going to school over and over again, living amongst humans, pretending that he’s normal, that he’s fine and that he’s human, while having to constantly ignore just how everything hurt without her near.

His thirst was nothing compared to the constant pain of not having his love with him.

——

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed since everything changed, since she was told Jasper had died and she decided to search for him.

But she knew that something was drawing her to this small town, Forks.

She had quickly learned how to cope with her new… abilities. Especially with this near-constant burning in her throat that told her she needed to feed.

She had quickly learned that she could feed on animals and avoid hurting people. And she was glad it worked.

When she arrived in Forks, she felt lost. It was a new town for her, for someone who had been wandering on their own for years.

But she felt like something important was awaiting her.

And when she wandered through the forest, trying to avoid the weird smell of dog nearby, she found a house.

She hesitated, what if whoever lived in this surprisingly big and beautiful house in the middle of the forest wasn’t happy with spontaneous visitors.

But something was still drawing her near, as if something in her mind wanted her to enter and see who or what was inside.

Only when a man who looked like he had seen centuries of history stepped outside the house and welcomed her in was when she started moving again.

Reluctantly, she stepped closer, and finally saw a short, pixie-like girl standing behind the man.

”I‘m Alice! I knew you’d come here! Come inside, there is someone you should see!“

And if her heart was still beating, she was sure it would be racing right when she saw him.

When he saw her, his eyes widened and he felt like his words were stuck in his throat.

”D-Darlin‘…?“

”Hello Major.“

As soon as he heard her voice, sensed her emotions, and saw how she looked almost exactly like he remembered, he rushed to her side and pulled her into a tight hug.

”I thought I lost you… so long ago…“ the words were barely loud enough, but she was still able to hear them. And with how he sounded she was sure he’d be crying if it was physically possible.

And she wasn’t fooling anyone, she’d also be crying if she could.

Unable to restrain himself, Jasper pulled away from the embrace just enough to cup her face and pull her in a long overdue kiss.

And it felt like they hadn’t been apart at all, like the past decades of pain just started to disappear.

And he was so happy for the first time in years.

Once they pulled away and finally got to properly look at each other, Jasper’s eyes wandered and he saw the ring he had given her all those years ago. It was attached to a necklace and sat near her heart.

When she noticed where he looked, she smiled and gently cupped his cheek with her hand.

She chose to ignore the scars littered across his neck and jawline, deciding that there were better times to speak about what happened while they were apart, especially now that they have more than enough time together.

He practically melted into her touch, leaning against her hand as if he was afraid she would vanish before his eyes, like this was just an illusion and he was being tricked.

His own hand went to hers, holding it against his scarred cheek to keep her close, to keep enjoying her touch.

”you still have the ring“ he whispered, his golden eyes finding hers.

”and you still have a promise to keep,“ she smiled, ”but I think we have a lot to speak about first, before we take any big steps.“

And he was certain he would keep his promise, but at first they both had a lot of time to make up for.

#twilight #the twilight saga #twilight renessaince #twilight renaissance #jasper hale #jasper whitlock #jasper cullen #alice cullen #carlisle cullen #jasper hale x y/n #jasper hale x you #jasper hale x reader #jasper whitlock x reader #jasper whitlock hale

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blowflyfag · 9 months

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WORLD WRESTLING FEDERATION MAGAZINE : APRIL 2001

The Depths of Despair

By Laura

Transcript Below!!!

Darkness imprisoning me

All that I see

Absolute horror

I cannot live

I cannot die

Trapped in myself

Body my holding cell

-Metallica, “One”

Any true World Wrestling Federation fan knows the tragic story of Kane’s life. There's probably not a fan out there who has not at one time or another felt sympathy for or outrage over the tortured existence Kane has led.

A fire, set by his own half-brother Undertaker, killed his mother and left him disfigured. His father Paul Bearer then locked him away in a basement, robbing him of the innocent, carefree days of childhood. Bearer brough the adult Kane into the Federation, where despite his strong and intimidating presence, he was a perfect target for master manipulators. Undertaker and his father Bearer, Federation owner Vince McMahon, X-Pac and Tori victimized Kane again and again.

Victims of abuse–be it physical, psychological or a combination of the two–often go through a series of stages in order to heal. However, some victims get stuck at one stage and are never fully able to recover from an abusive past. They stay in the land of denial or anger, which ultimately tears them apart inside. The key to complete recovery lies in the victim’s ability to accept the unjust hand life has dealt. With acceptance comes a chance for success and survival.

Innocence

Torn from me without your shelter

Barred reality

I’m living blindly

I’m in hell without you

Cannot cope without you two

Shocked at the world that I see

Innocent victim please rescue me

-Metallica, “Dyers Eve”

Denial: This is the first stage, when the victim denies the abuse ever happened or claims that it wasn’t “that bad.” Kane has spent almost a lifetime in denial. Although his father Paul Bearer was the most evil of his abusers, Kane still abided by his father’s commands, doing his dirty work. When Undertaker revealed it was he who was behind the fire that permanently scarred him and killed his mother, for quite some time afterward, Kane stood by his brother. Coming to his defense.

However, once other WWF Superstars, as well as Vince McMahon, toyed and twisted his vulnerable psyche, Kane broke out of this denial stage and unleashed viciousness, rage and unparalleled anger toward the world.

My life suffocates

Planting seeds of hate

I’ve loved, turned to hate

Trapped far beyond my fate

I give

You take

This life that I forsake

Been cheated of my youth

You turned this lie to truth

Anger

Misery

You’ll suffer unto me

-Metallica “Harvester of Sorrow”

Anger: Once denial wanes, anger often sets in. The victim will get angry at everyone and everything around him–including himself–until he finally gets angry at his abusers. This stage is very delicate, because the victim can slip into a depressed state, where he becomes anti-social and can even inflict self-harm.

Kane has been depressed for a long time and isolated himself from the world. In that time, he earned the labels “Big Red —----,” “monster” and “sociopath.” However, Kane is far from the embodiment of those tags–he is quite simply amman who has been to hell and back.

He has remained angry for some time now, going after all that cross his path. But Kane is typical of many who remain in this place of rage–venting his pent-up rage on all except his half-brother. Kane is displacing his anger. Not too long ago, he went after Chris Jericho, who had accidentally spilled coffee on him, claiming the feud was really over “Y2J’s” unscathed good-looks. This triggered not only Kane’s grief and anger over his physical scars from the fire, but also the deep seared grief over the loss of his mother in that fatal fire years ago.

If Kane remains in an angry state, one of two things will happen: He will either live a life trapped in complete and total anger, never seeing beyond its red, heated glare; or he will fall into a depression, from which he might never recover. If Kane is truly to heal, he must get beyond the anger and move to the next stage.

I don’t know how to live through this hell

Woken up,

I’m still locked in this shell

Frozen soul, frozen down to the core

Break the ice, I can’t take anymore

-Metallica “Trapped Under Ice”

Acceptance: This is the hardest stage of all, for it is the one final step before actual healing can begin, before the self can be reclaimed. It hinges upon accepting the fact that wrongs have been perpetrated upon the victim and that life isn’t always fair. It is understanding that people can be cruel and heartless, but the abuse is not a reflection of one’s self-worth. This is the time when the victim looks at his past, looks the abuse straight in the face and decides he is no longer going to allow it to run his life. This is when the victim begins the transformation to survivor and begins to live for himself, not for his pain.

Kane needs to reach this place. He needs to find the courage to look at the evil action of his family, at the betrayals of others, and accept that despite all that happened, he is worthy of love and respect, and has a lot to offer.

Kane has a choice. He is not a victim anymore and it is up to him whether or not he will remain one.

If he chooses to accept his past and move on, then he will be the next World Wrestling Federation Champion. Having survived such a torturous life, Kane will have strength of spirit incomparable to any Superstar in the WWF roster. What Kane will discover is that in his suffering there lies a gift, one amazing and rare. He will find that, despite the fact the abuse he endured stripped away pieces of himself, there is another side of him that only those who have overcome tragedy can find. And that strength supercedes any physical or mental force–it is a spiritual strength, one that is absolutely indescribable. If Kane finds this gift within himself, nothing will ever be able to stop him.

However, if he chooses to stay trapped in a world of anger, resentment and hatred, he will wither and die inside. He will no longer be Kane, but will indeed become the monster he’s been tagged as. If Kane doesn’t move on, he can say goodbye to any future with the Federation and the only time he will come close to the World Wrestling Federation Championship is when hell freezes over.

What is this?

I’ve been stricken by fate

Wrapped up tight, cannot move, can’t break free

Hand of doom has a tight grip on me

Freezing

Can’t move at all

Screaming

Can’t hear my call

I am dying to live

Cry out

I’m trapped under the ice

-Metallica, “Trapped Under Ice”

#wwf #world wrestling federation #kane wwf #magazine transcript #wwf magazine scan #wwf magazine

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jujutsubrainrot · 1 year

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Chapter 208: Stars and Oil, Part 4

// SPOILER WARNING!!! DO NOT PROCEED IF YOU HAVE NOT READ THE CHAPTER YET.

Opening words: “A direct hit from a Mini Uzumaki!!”

》 Yuki: "Aren't you a necessary part of Yuuji Itadori's future?"

I personally feel that "a necessary part" sounds much better.

》 Yuki: "Exactly what I said. Even if you sacrifice yourself for your little brother, isn't it meaningless if you aren't in that future?"

In my opinion, the emphasis is on "is there any point/meaning" if Choso weren't in Yuuji's future.

》 Choso: "When my little brothers were incarnated, I thought... 「humans」 would never accept them due to their abnormal appearances."

While the kanji used was 受肉 (juniku – 受 means accept/take/get while 肉 means meat/flesh/body; but 受肉 itself means incarnation), "took flesh" just sounds weird in this context. "Incarnated" is the most accurate term and every JJK reader understands it, so I don't quite get why officials opted to go with "took flesh".

》 Choso: "(Back then) if I had chosen to live as a 「human」.. my little brothers wouldn't have had to kill each other."

Officials chose to change the entire second-half of the statement, lol.

》 Choso: "And then.. Almost like a punishment.. Yuuji, who was suffering from living as a 「human」, appeared."

I personally think that it's important for the "almost like a punishment" sentence to be included, considering that was how Choso felt about it.

》 Choso: "I'm certain that the four of us were destined to fight together. But just because I wanted an easy life.. Yuuji was left alone."

》 Tengen: "What's so funny?"

》 Kenjaku: "What's with that face? Is that what you wished.. [to look like]? Almost like.."

》 Narration (?): "Black holes possess extreme density and immense gravity that not even light, much less matter, can escape. It is said that one can be created by compressing the entire Earth to a diameter of 2 cm."

》 Yuki: "You control gravity, but isn't your deduction pretty unsatisfactory?! Gravity, mass, time. It all comes down to..."

Here, Tengen said "術式反転か" (jutsushiki hanten ka), which translates to "Cursed Technique Reversal?" FYI, Akutami-sensei once addressed this stuff in an extra page, where he stated that 術式反転 (jutsushiki hanten) = Cursed Technique Reversal, while 反転術式 (hanten jutsushiki) = Reverse Cursed Technique. The order of the words are nothing but reversed and yes, it's confusing – Gege even admitted that, lol.

》 Kenjaku: "Nope. The 「Gravity」 until now was actually the technique reversal. The cursed technique engraved on Kaori Itadori was 「Anti-Gravity System」. Using my body as a domain, I raised the technique lapse's limit on the unstable output and activation time. It was a gamble, but at least it worked. Really, my liver chilled."

Kanji used for Kaori's CT is 反重力機構. The term 機構 (kikou) means mechanism, but the furigana reads システム (system). And as explained by Kenjaku, "Gravity" is the technique reversal of Kaori's CT; as such, it is an Extension technique.

Kenjaku’s last statement in the raws includes an idiom in Japanese: 肝を冷やした (kimo o hiyashita). It translates to “my liver chilled” and it means "I was scared to death” or “I was terrified”.

Closing words: “Tengen falls into the hands of Kenjaku, once a friend.”

Extra preview for ch.209: “What will happen to the fate of the world?!”

—

My thoughts:

I know many fans are on edge about Yuki's death and they're still in denial and coping hard, theorizing that she'll return in the next chapter. But I'm gonna take my stand with the minority of readers; RIP, Yuki onee-san. You did spectacular fighting a 1000 year-old sorcerer who's inhabiting one of the strong, present-era sorcerers. You did everything you could, you gave it your 1000% but this is as far as things go, you died a hero. Badass heroine! It was an honorable death. A moment of silence for Yuki Tsukumo, everyone.

If she suddenly makes her return in the next chapter or in the near future, that would be cool. I personally don't mind it either way; whatever that rocks Gege's boat.

Moving on! Last few days, the hate comments against Gege was immense. The uproar began on Wednesday on Twitter first - after some leaks dropped - then it spiraled out of control, and eventually reached Reddit. A day later, I discovered that even on Instagram, people were slandering Gege. I was utterly disgusted by the fandom's reactions, I hated what I saw. Calling whatever you dislike about the chapter "bad writing" is one thing, but labelling Gege a "misogynist" and spreading the claim "Gege hates women" (even if it was a sarcastic joke) is overboard and disrespectful af. Even until today, a meme about Gege's disrespect towards "his JJK women" was still making its rounds on Twitter. Seeing how the fandom is becoming increasingly toxic, I decided it's best not to engage in any discussions from here on out. A fair few of my Instagram followers are really chill people and I enjoy talking to them, so I guess they'll be my go-tos if I'd like to vomit out some theories or opinions. So a heads-up, my weekly chapter post will now be comprised of the usual opening and closing words, any mistranslations/misinterpretations in the official Viz translations, unexpected mistakes from Gege or his crew, or if there's anything very important to address within the chapter. That's all.

As of last Thursday, I've made the decision to remove myself from the fandom and I no longer term myself as one of the "JJK fans", lol. I am just a fan of Gege Akutami and his works.

To Gege Akutami or his associates, if you guys ever read this, do know that I will always support your work and whatever decisions that you make for your manga. If you have to end the series within a year because that's what you feel is the best for you, go ahead and do so. A true fan will always have your back and will never hold you down just to keep you from moving forward. We will understand. Thank you for working very hard each week just so we can get another chapter and reason to enjoy the series. I wish you the best of health and continued success in the future and may you end Jujutsu Kaisen in the way you envision it. Cheers to the coming new year 2023!

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk 208 #gege akutami #yuki & choso vs kenjaku #jjk manga spoilers #m/translations

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basicsofislam · 1 year

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ISLAM 101: Muslim Culture and Character: Embracing The World: Part 6

ISLAM AS A RELIGION OF UNIVERSAL MERCY

Life is the foremost and most manifest blessing of God Almighty, and the true and everlasting life is that of the Hereafter. Since we can deserve this life only by pleasing God, He sent Prophets and revealed Scriptures out of His Compassion for humanity. While mentioning His blessings upon humanity, He begins:

All-Merciful. He taught the Qur’an, created humanity, and taught it speech. (Al-Rahman 55:1-4)

All aspects of this life are a rehearsal for the afterlife, and every creature is engaged toward this end. Order is evident in every effort, and compassion resides in every achievement. Some “natural” events or social convulsions may seem disagreeable at first, but we should not regard them as being incompatible with compassion. They are like dark clouds or lightning and thunder that, although frightening, nevertheless bring us the good tidings of rain. Thus the whole universe praises the All-Compassionate.

Prophet Muhammad (peace and blessings be upon him) is like a spring of pure water in the heart of a desert, a source of light in all-enveloping darkness. Those who appeal to this spring can take as much water as is needed to quench their thirst, to become purified of their sins, and to become illuminated with the light of faith. Mercy was like a magical key in the Prophet’s hands, for with it he opened hearts that were so hardened and rusty that no one thought they could be opened. But he did even more: he lit a torch of belief in them.

The compassion of God’s Messenger encompassed every creature. He desired that everyone is guided. In fact, this was his greatest concern:

Yet it may be, if they believe not in this Message, you will consume (exhaust) yourself, following after them, with grief. (Al-Kahf 18:6)

But how did he deal with those who persisted in oppression and persecutions; those who did not allow him and his followers to worship the One God; those who took up arms against him to destroy him? He had to fight such people, yet his universal compassion encompassed every creature. This is why when he was wounded severely at the Battle of Uhud, he raised his hands and prayed:

O God, forgive my people, for they do not know.

The Makkans, his own people, inflicted so much suffering on him that he finally emigrated to Madinah. Even after that, the next 5 years were far from peaceful. However, when he conquered Makka without bloodshed in the twenty-first year of his Prophethood, he asked the Makkan unbelievers: “How do you expect me to treat you?” They responded unanimously: “You are a noble one, the son of a noble one.” He then told them his decision: “You may leave, for no reproach, this day shall be on you. May God forgive you. He is the Most Compassionate.”

The Messenger displayed the highest degree of compassion toward believers:

There has come to you a Messenger from among yourselves; grievous to him is your suffering; anxious is he over you, full of concern for you, for the believers full of pity, compassionate. (At-Tawbah 9:128)

He lowered unto believers his wing of tenderness through mercy … (Al-Hijr 15:88)

… was the guardian of believers and nearer to them than their selves. (Al-Ahzab 33:6)

When one of his Companions died, he asked those at the funeral if the deceased had left any debts. On learning that he had, the Prophet mentioned the above verse and announced that the creditors should come to him for repayment.

His compassion even encompassed the hypocrites and unbelievers. He knew who the hypocrites were, but never identified them, for this would have deprived them of the rights of full citizenship that they had gained by their outward declaration of faith and practice. Since they lived among the Muslims, their denial may have been reduced or changed to doubt, thus diminishing their fear of death and the pain caused by the assertion of eternal non-existence after death.

God no longer destroys unbelievers collectively, although He had eradicated many such people in the past:

But God would never chastise them while you were among them; God would never chastise them as they begged forgiveness. (Al-Anfal 8:33)

This verse refers to unbelievers regardless of time and place. God will not destroy whole peoples as long as there are some who follow the Messenger. Moreover, He has left the door of repentance open until the Last Day. Anyone can accept Islam or ask God’s forgiveness, regardless of how sinful they consider themselves to be.

For this reason, a Muslim’s enmity toward unbelievers is a form of pity. When ‘Umar saw an 80-year-old man, he sat down and wept. When asked why, he replied: “God assigned him so long a lifespan, but he has not been able to find the true path.” ‘Umar was a disciple of God’s Messenger, the prophet who said:

I was not sent to call down curses on people but as a mercy.

I am Muhammad, and Ahmad (the praised one), and Muqaffi (the Last Prophet); I am Hashir (the last Prophet in whose presence the people will gather); the Prophet of Repentance (the Prophet for whose sake the door of repentance will always remain open), and the Prophet of mercy.

Archangel Gabriel also benefited from the mercy of the Qur’an. Once the Prophet asked Gabriel whether he had any share in the mercy contained in the Qur’an, Gabriel replied that he did, and explained: “I was not certain about my end. However, when the verse: (One) obeyed, and moreover, trustworthy and secured (At-Takwir 81:21) was revealed, I felt secure.”

The Messenger of God was particularly compassionate toward children. Whenever he saw a child crying, he sat beside him or her and shared his or her feelings. He felt the pain of a mother for her child more than the mother herself. Once he said:

I stand in prayer and wish to prolong it. However, I hear a child cry and shorten the prayer to lessen the mother’s anxiety.”

He took children in his arms and hugged them. Once when he hugged and kissed his grandson Hasan, Aqrah ibn Habis told him: “I have 10 children, none of whom I have ever kissed.” God’s Messenger responded: “One without pity for others is not pitied.” According to another version, he added: “What can I do for you if God has removed compassion from you?”

He said: “Pity those on the Earth so that those in the heavens will pity you.” Once when Sa’d ibn ‘Ubadah became ill, God’s Messenger visited him at home. Seeing his faithful Companion in a pitiful state, he began to cry and said: “God does not punish because of tears or grief, but He punishes because of this,” and he pointed to his tongue. When ‘Uthman ibn Mad’un died, he wept profusely. During the funeral, a woman remarked: “‘Uthman flew like a bird to Paradise.” Even in that mournful state, the Prophet did not lose his balance and corrected the woman: “How do you know this? Even I do not know this, and I am a Prophet.”

A member of the Banu Muqarrin clan once beat his female slave. She informed the Messenger of God, who then sent a message to the master. He said: “You have beaten her without any justifiable right. Free her.” Setting a slave free was far better for the master than being punished in the Hereafter because of a wrong act. The Messenger of God always protected and supported widows, orphans, the poor, and the disabled, even before his Prophethood. When he returned home in excitement from Mount Hira after the first Revelation, his wife Khadijah told him:

I hope you will be the Prophet of this community, for you always tell the truth, fulfill your trust, support your relatives, help the poor and weak, and feed guests.

His compassion even encompassed animals. We hear from him:

A prostitute was guided to the truth by God and ultimately went to Paradise because she gave water to a poor dog dying of thirst inside a well. Another woman was sent to Hell because she made a cat die of hunger.

Once while returning from a military campaign, a few Companions removed some young birds from their nest to caress them. The mother bird came back and, not being able to find its babies, began to fly around, calling out for them. When told of this, God’s Messenger became angry and ordered the birds to be put back in the nest.

While in Mina, some of his Companions attacked a snake in order to kill it. However, it managed to escape. Watching this from afar, he remarked: “It was saved from your evil, as you were from its evil.” Ibn Abbas reported that God’s Messenger, upon observing a man sharpening his knife directly before the sheep to be slaughtered, asked him: “Do you want to kill it more than once?”

His love and compassion for creatures differed from that of today’s self-proclaimed humanists. He was sincere and measured in his love and compassion. He was a Prophet raised by God, the Creator, and Sustainer of all beings, for the guidance and happiness of conscious beings—humanity and jinn—and the harmony of existence. As such, he lived not for himself but for others. He is a mercy for all the worlds, a manifestation of Compassion.

He eradicated all differences of race and color. Once Abu Dharr got so angry with Bilal that he insulted him: “You son of a black woman!” Bilal came to the Messenger and reported the incident in tears. The Messenger reproached Abu Dharr: “Do you still have a sign of jahiliyyah (ignorance)?” Full of repentance, Abu Dharr lay on the ground and said: “I will not raise my head (meaning that he would not get up) unless Bilal puts his foot on it.” Bilal forgave him, and they were reconciled. Such was the bond of kinship and humanity that Islam created among once-savage people.

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americascomic · 6 months

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My first year of transition, I really refused to engage in any trans literature, whatever theory, non-fiction or fiction. The exception is I read Andrea Long Chu's essay "On Liking Women" within days of coming out and I think I was still so close to just that raw rush of realizing that I am trans that it earnestly hurt to read and I had not nearly enough distance to really look at with a healthy perspective.

The trans community I first landed into at the time was this very urbane, overly white sorta vague Bushwick transbians types who engaged with trans authors as this sorta fixation on trans media - it felt very competitive and made me feel insecure and I couldn't keep up. Detransition, Baby was big at the time and everyone read it, everyone had a hot take on it and I was just getting footing with my queerness. I think this was sorta emboldened by a lotta of the girls around me "always knew they were trans" and were studying up on the issues beforehand it made me feel like I was coming into school mid-semester.

I think it was actually very much high school, and a lot of the girls (we kinda found ourselves and started transitioning at the same time, and at the same age - in our mid-to-late 30s) were insecure and I think wanted to look more confident going into this scary new world then they wanted to let on.

The books were really scary for me. Especially Whipping Girl and Detransition, Baby. I was terrified of my lived experience being talked over and feeling flattened and isolated and alientated.

Additionally, I experienced a lot of transmisogny in my first year of transition from other non-femme queer people and I sorta created this reflex for myself to be ashamed of self-advoacy and maybe even shame for my trans-femminity. And I retreated in something that I think is understandable, which is to focus on the racial aspect of queer liberation and read books on anti-racism and Black history. (I should say I'm white here)

Then, about a year and a half into transition I had family members do something incredibly painful to me. Like, it was such a shock from people that I thought I could trust and I would describe the experience as psychedelic in just how much it opened my eyes. Seeing that level of cruelty was just sobering and it made me come to terms with a lot of stuff in my transition that I was in denial about. It made me (somehow) admit to myself I was a lesbian. And it made me finally wake up and realize that I experience transmisogny, and that there is bigotry that is directed squarely at me and that I'm not somehow this proxy war for other intersecting battles, or that I need to give defrence to those who suffer more than me as some sort of token in order to speak on my own discomfort.

I told a non-binary friend about this, about how I basically "you know, I'm starting to think transmisogny is a thing I experience" and they put their hand on my hand and was basically like "this is why you should be doing the homework."

I don't know if Whipping Girl was right to have read right when I came out. Those self-protection measures were in part there in the reason. And I despise - especially as a trans woman - playing in games of woulda couldas. I just am happy that I am finally doing the homework and the book is opening me up to further revelations. Like taking ownership that i'm femme for femme. And that I'm a high femme and I should be proud of that, and take ownership that I am a high femme for it's own good and not as some consesion to a larger society.

I still have some contempt and nervousness over "trans homework assignments" but I read so much, and books ultimately are about letting another voice in your head and I deserve to have a trans woman in my head.

#Julia Serano #whipping girl #transfemme #transmisogny #trans femme

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xxghost-zombie-jesus · 2 years

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What do you think about Charles and Lydia? I see their relationship at the beginning as two people who were both grieving so deeply they couldn’t understand how the other person was grieving. Charles thought Lydia did it too much and she thought he didn’t do it enough, but when they talked (finally) they were each able to see the other side

Ouch, this hurts.

I'm going about this using the 5 stages of grief. If you don't know what they are, they're Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, and Acceptance.

The thing about the stages? They don't have to happen in a linear order, hell they don't have to happen in that order. Some people get stuck pretty hard in one spot, others flip between different stages, some go through them in a different order. Grief is tricky, it's hard, it's all consuming, it sucks.

In the beginning of the musical, both of them are grieving a lost family member.

Lydia lost her mom. The person she looked up to the most, the person she felt closest to.

Charles lost his wife, his best friend, the woman he had expected to spend his entire life with.

We'll start with Lydia.

Throughout the musical, she flips through three stages, anger, depression, and bargaining. She's angry at her dad for moving on, for him moving her to a new house in a new state, at Delia for trying to replace her mom, for trying to make her forget her pain and suffering She's angry at the world, at her mom for dying, at herself for letting it happen. She's angry, she's in pain, and it hurts so damn much and no one seems to take her pain seriously.

She bargains. With her dad, begging him to go home, to talk about Dead Mom, to just listen to her. She begs her mom for a sign, to take Lydia with her and to not leave her behind, to help her. She begs Beetlejuice for help when she has nothing else to lose, nothing else to fight with. She begs to be seen and heard and understood as a grieving child, as someone who needs help and isn't getting it.

She's depressed. She has nothing to live for, she has no one to live for. He mom is gone, her dad can barely look at her, she left her friends and her life behind when they moved. She lost everything that made life worth it and can't move on. She thinks the only way out is to join her mother in death, and is only stopped when Beetlejuice convinces her that it isn't worth it.

Lydia is hurt. She is so undeniably, understandably hurt. By everyone around her, by herself, by her own Dead Mom. No one seems to take it seriously because they're caught up in their own issues and cycles and problems, and it's a horrid feedback loop of feeding on negative emotions onto to lash out when someone finally does offer a hand, only for them to then pull away because in her hurt, she hurts people around her, too.

She's angry, she's hurting, she's breaking apart, and no one even cares to see it. The first person to even acknowledge it is Beetlejuice, and he really doesn't get it, does he? He's selfish and really only wants to use her for his own gain, but somehow, oddly, it helps. A little. In a very bad way, but she's finally been seen by someone who accepts that this, this horribly anguished 15 year old, is who she is.

Charles, on the other hand, is stuck firmly in the denial stage. He's not denying that Emily is gone. That is a fact, one he has come to terms with. She's dead, and gone, and there's no coming back from it. He's not in denial of Emily's passing. He's in denial of his own grief and anguish. He won't let himself feel pain, he won't let himself take the time to grief the love of his life, or the life she left behind. He can't make himself think or talk about her, or talk to Lydia, or be there for his own daughter when she needs him the most. Because it hurts too much, so instead of taking the time to process that, he just. Doesn't.

And that's it, isn't it? The problem. In his denial of his own grief, he thinks he's at the acceptance stage. He accepted that Emily died, that things have changed (for the better? worse? he isn't sure but they changed). But he's not there. He hasn't moved on at all. He's only shoved everything as deep inside him as possible and pretends to be alright, to everyone around him, but most importantly, to himself. He refuses to take even a moment to let himself feel, so instead he becomes stone.

Emotionless, strong, sturdy. He can't break down, because what is there to break down about? He's fine, he's adapted, he's moved on. His daughter is just being overdramatic, she'll move on. She's just being an angsty teen, doesn't everyone have a phase like that? He can't see she's hurting, because he can't see he, himself, is just as hurt. You can't douse the fire from inside the house.

I feel like, before Emily died, Lydia and Charles were close. But her death hurt both of them so much that they pulled away, one buried herself in thorns, and the other incased himself in stone, and a rift formed between them. Both are unable to talk, because Lydia doesn't know how to anymore without lashing out, and Charles is so out of his depth with his own emotion that he can't process others' anymore, either.

They can't see eye to eye, because they're both stubborn. Both think their way of grieving is the only way. Lydia thinks that if Charles isn't outwardly showing how hurt he is, that he obviously didn't love Emily enough, and that he doesn't love her, either. Charles thinks that Lydia is being difficult for difficult's sake, and doesn't actually feel like that, instead she is fine and just lashing out because she can. Neither understand that people can process grief in different ways, and neither have the mental health or the strength to talk.

That's why their discussion in Home is so powerful to me. Because they finally do talk. They finally show each other exactly how much they're hurting. Lydia is able to finally talk to her dad without hurting herself and him in the process, and Charles is finally able to accept that he's hurting, he's grieving, and it only served to make everything so much worse than if he had let himself just feel.

Lydia saw her dad cared just as much as she did, if not more. Emily was his everything, too. He loved her, so much. And he couldn't bear to be without her, just like Lydia. But he couldn't let himself be open to the hurt and the emotional bleeding and the grief so instead he shut down emotionally.

Charles saw that Lydia wasn't just some teenager fighting against everything because she could, but as a scared, anguished child who was so lost, with no one to be there for her and no one but herself to lean on. She lashed out because it was the only way she knew how to get noticed.

They finally understand each other, in a way they hadn't before. They're so similar, and both have the capacity for so much love and hurt and feeling, but they process things differently, and that lead to a divide between them. A divide neither of them could bridge until the storm hit its peak, and then began to fade, and they could finally see the other side.

They can only come out stronger from this. And they do. Lydia finally begins to realize that the world didn't start and end with Emily, and that there are things worth living for, even if it doesn't feel like it all the time. People love and care for her, and she isn't alone. And Charles starts to realize that it's okay to hurt, and feel, and grieve, because without the bad feelings, the good ones are shallow and meaningless. It's just a facade, a mask, meaningless and ultimately destructive to his relationships.

In the end they come to an understanding, an appreciation about the other, an outlook on things that they had been lacking before. And they finally have someone who can be there and understand what they're going through. A father struggling to accept he's grieving, and his daughter who's struggling to accept the help she so desperately craves.

#veej's rambles #beetlejuice the musical #beetlejuice broadway #beetlejuice #charles deetz #lydia deetz #character analysis #asks from the recently deceased #thank you for this ask #i hope you like whatever this was. it got a lot longer than i was expecting.#this really hurt me to write but idk its true. they're both so hurt and broken #and its only after they realize this and that they both miss emily #that they can finally begin to heal. together.#i added a readmore bc it was long and i feel bad

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strangefellows · 2 years

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I am also suffering from 'can't work without a prompt' so I'm here to put one in your inbox but I don't know any guys from your animes so you'll have to pick which one to write about for this one l: “I picked a bad time to become a decent person.”

HILARIOUSLY i was just poking at thoughts abt a character who this would fit perfectly, so here have some thoughts i’m trying to put together through a drabble

----

It was, for a moment, incredibly tempting to throttle the woman in front of him. Deeply so. And yet, for some reason, he didn’t.

(He knew the reason. But if that man could be a world champion of denial, so could he.)

“Why are you like this,” he asked instead, voice flat and hoarse from disuse, with an undercurrent of irritation despite his best efforts (or maybe due to them, he wasn’t certain anymore). “Why.”

She just grinned at him. “You know the answer to that,” she teased. “I’m incurably reckless and terminally diagnosed with Hero Syndrome. And maybe I just like messing with you.”

“I don’t think I would say maybe,” he snapped. “You could have died, you realize. I could list the ways it could have happened, but I’d have to choose whether to do so chronologically or in order of severity, and we would be here far, far too long.”

She had the gall to raise her eyebrows. “Because you’re just dying to run away again, right?” She asked. “I mean, I’m actually looking at you straight on this time! That’s new.” She paused. “When was the last time you had a shower?”

“First of all, that’s completely irrelevant,” he told her. “Second of all, where are your Servants? Where is--” A pause, hopefully too brief to be noticed, though he has little faith it slipped her nosy insight. “--Kyrielight?”

By the widening of her grin, that slip had been caught. Damn it.

“Mash and everyone are around!” She reassured him with a laugh. “This isn’t exactly a Lostbelt, remember? It’s just a holiday Singularity. I’m allowed to wander off!” She had the grace to, here, at least look sheepish. “I...maybe should be more careful where I step, though. I’m learning self-defense but those chickens were definitely the nasty, out for blood, peck me to death kind. I mean, though, seriously, where did the evil chickens come from?? The first time I saw them was Luluhawa, though, so probably--”

He groaned. “The origins of the homicidal farm animals are beside the point,” he grumbled. “They could have killed you. And had you fled in the other direction, it would have been right into a nest of chimera. Do you have any spatial awareness at all?” He grimaced. “Really, I’d assumed the Singularity had been dealt with.”

“It has,” she said with a grin. “You should know these things last a few more days after we de-Grail them. Let me have some last ditch summer fun, okay?”

...alright, no, he really was going to throttle her. His hand connected with his face hard. “And nearly getting pecked to death by angry roosters is your idea of summer fun these days?” He asked, voice faintly muffled. “Why did I bother? I should have let you die. It would have served you right. You need to learn that actions have consequences.”

“Why didn’t you~?” She asked, leaning forward. “I mean, you’ve been pretty hands off and all so far.” She paused, looking insufferably smug; she must have picked up the expression from the King of Uruk, ugh. “You care. You caaare about me, don’t you?”

He looked at her with as much disgust and annoyance as he could muster. “I do no such thing,” he said, attempting to sound disdainful, though it only managed to come off as defensive. “You’re all idiots. It--” He huffed. “It would be a damned pathetic end to this if you died being eaten by a chicken in one of these low-risk, inconsequential, ridiculous Singularities. That’s all.”

“Mmmmhm,” she said, disbelieving. “You like us idiots, though.”

“I do not!” He snapped, startled at the fact he’d raised his voice. “You-- tch, I picked the worst time to decide to allow myself a bit of basic decency. I’m leaving.”

She beamed at him, undeterred. “Awww, saving my life is ‘basic decency’, you really do care!”

“...and I will let you get eaten next time,” he told her flatly. “See if I don’t.”

He spun on a heel to depart, already casting the spell that would take him outside the Singularity -- he had places to be, after all, there were still two Lostbelts remaining -- and still he heard her behind him.

“You mean like the time with Sheba and the leopard?” She asked sweetly, and his breath hitched in surprise before he could catch it. “She told me about that one a while back.”

Well. He had nothing to say to that, save to finish his spell and leave. Damn it all, that woman was impossible. Absolutely impossible.

...why did he always end up fond of the impossible ones? That man had no explanation to give, either, and in all his wisdom, that was one of the few questions that remained unanswered...one of the riddles he couldn’t solve, so to speak. If he had to be sentimental about it.

Tch. That man had left him more sentimental than he once was. He knew that. And still, it blindsided him at the worst moments. He had a duty to carry out now, again, and his messy, human sentiment would just get in the way. And yet...and yet, her laughter and her smile still lingered in the back of his head, as it always did.

(Perhaps one day, she would be the one to welcome him home-- no. A foolish notion, yet more unnecessary sentimentalism. He had no more wishes left, after all.)

#fateseriesblogging #chara: little bird of chaldea #chara: a king's quiet wish #otp: welcome home #screamlaughs i have NO idea what i am doing here but he was fun to write???#fgo spoilers #spoilers #SPOILERS!!!#dear god spoilers

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dysansohmin · 3 months

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like the ultimate point of the mithraic cycle is that the final days could have been avoided if anyone was fucking normal here. unfortunately, the world is cruel, we inherit its cruelties, we internalize its order and are traumatized into reifying it.

venat and elidibus wholeheartedly believe they share a duty to manipulate everyone around them into a manufactured apocalypse. they cannot imagine a future where they don't play their projected roles.

lahabrea stands to benefit from the cruelty. I mean like, as heads of government most of these guys do but lahabrea is taking direct and personal satisfaction from mass death, even if he's got the wool over his eyes about its necessity.

hermes' self loathing will not allow him to extend man the same grace he gave the lykaones, he is utterly defeated, he is self-obliterating, he never overcomes this, he never stops insisting that everyone has to come down with him.

hythlodaeus' self loathing recognizes an out. his whole life he has understood that there is something nebulous and wrong about himself. he seeks absolution by handing the knife to the establishment.

emet-selch is in complete denial that something is very, very wrong about amaurot, that elidibus has seized power to put them all on a death march at venat's behest, that the illusion of utopia afforded to its most priveleged is just that. the inadequacy and unfulfillment that haunts him every day are his own fault. and he sure as fuck does not want to put his own life on the line in any way.

azem recognizes she is living in the shadow of a failed revolution and concludes all revolutions fail, direct advocacy is violence. in many ways she's taking the same path as hermes, believing that if man fails this rigged gambit, something bettes will endure and bloom in the ashes of the world. she's just got a little more faith in the human spirit. she's pretty sure that a few people will be strong and kind enough to rebuild.

sometimes, if you are lucky, you will realize the cruelty is not essential. you will find someone who affirms this, and someone else, and someone else. you will build a coalition of kindness and affirmation and it will still be too late to fix everything, it's all still going to hell without and within. endless cycle of trying-again.

so why bother? well, believe it or not, some day it will matter, for a while at least. and the longer you stay in "why bother" mode, the more net suffering you put into the world, yeah. you might cut short millions of lives through that apathy, until the ghost of that potential coalition nearly strangles you to death in an innroom for being a genocidal nihilistic fuckwit. yeah she kind of had a point, didn't she?

venat was working with what she thought she had. she has since been witness to millennia of This Cannot Be All There Is. she grasps the full picture, now. the world's been burned down and rebuilt eight times, azem's dancing through the ashes again. after twelve thousand years she asks again: will you finally let me die by your hand? have I made you enough? can I finally accept that things begin as they end? can I put my faith in your love? can I trust you to be okay without me?

#mithraic cycle t

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inklore · 2 years

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teach me to be cruel.

premise: bad girls get rewarded, good girls get nothing.

pairing: peter ballard x (f)reader

word count: 1.20k

warnings: eighteen+ content, porn with plot, dark, fingering, orgasm denial, mentions of murder and blood, peter is a warning himself, slight degradation, undertones of manipulation.

etc: we’ve finally made it here, i’ve finally done it, it was only a matter of time before another devilish blonde man consumed me, this is not shocking lmao.

i do not give anyone permission to translate or repost my work, please be respectful — if you enjoyed please comment or reblog!

The hard concrete at your back, the blades of your shoulder pressed into it, is cold and seeps through your gown. The heat from your body is radiating off of you like a furnace as if his fingers between your legs were hot pokers that were sparking small flames in your insides until an inferno has started up and you feel like every organ and bone in your body is being melted down to something plabable; like the play-doh the children play with in the rainbow room.

The wire to your morality vacant and lacking a pulse. Sometimes you wondered if there was something wrong with it, that moral part of your brain that everyone has for basic human survival. “Sometimes it gets crossed with another wire, an evil one” Papa had said. Looking at you with about as much interest as he does when he’s ordering the group of you to throw each other across the room, upon your asking of what made someone bad. Cruel.

The answer had done little to make you run off of the beaten path you currently walked along. It hadn’t made that moral wire in your brain go off and rethink this. Rethink meeting him in closets. Rethink using your powers to turn afternoon sneaks into nightly rendezvous between your bed sheets; his hand pressed to your mouth, his deep grunts of “You don’t know how to be quiet do you? Pathetic” in your ear. A smirk on his lips when you looked up at him and gave him those pleading eyes, the ones with tears at your ducts and devotion filled in them like a hornets nest ready to be opened and released onto the world.

It’s where his interests lie with you.

You were a hornets nest he kept kicking until you were nothing but a carcass of something made to be strong, to house something that was supposed to give life. And now all you do is take it away, for him. But wasn’t that your purpose here? To be used for what you have, for what you were. The only difference between him and Papa was that you were in love with him. Devoted.

When you did something bad, made others bleed for fun, on accident, because you went too far, were too powerful; Peter never scolded. Never reprimanded. He filled that whole of shame in you, that morality with something thick and suffocating, something that felt more like home than this sterile hell you were born in.

So why should you feel bad when his fingers are between your legs, or his tongue? Those moral feelings of how wrong it is to let him mold and shape your molten insides that he’s burned into his perfect killing machine to help him with his vision: had no home inside of you.

The wires of power and devotion—lust—wrapping around any good wire you had until it was strangled and all you had left was the bad, the evil that Peter kissed, sucked, and fucked in and out of you.

His fingers inside of you right now is the only kind of good you want, need. His thumb rubbing hard strokes into your clit, forearm resting on the wall beside your head. His scowl is deep, his lips red and raw from how hard he had kissed you—from the teeth you had bit into his bottom lip to silent your moans, so no one would hear through the door as he fucked you with his fingers.

“Here I thought you knew how to listen to directions.” You can trace the annoyance in his voice right back to the girl in the infirmary right now. Body twisted in pain, heart still beating. The weakling he encouraged you to end the suffering of—one of many he’s asked you to take care of for him.

“I did.” You say in puffs, your jaw going slack for half a second when you feel the curl of one of his fingers and it makes your fists ball at your sides, your legs shaking. “She–I–”

His free hand is at the back of your neck squeezing the muscle there, making you look directly at him, a wince of pain replacing your stuttering and getting lost in the mixture of pleasure between your thighs. “She’s still alive. She’s still suffering, even more now that you’ve broken her bones.” The blue of his irises are dark, like a sea you’re drowning in. The casting shadow of his scowl making them appear almost black. “You didn’t listen to directions,” the up tick of the corner of his mouth only makes your stomach sink lower. Leaning his face close to your lips, enough to have your eyes straining to look up at his height, “and now you don’t get to cum.”

The whine you let out is a mix of frustration and anguish at words, and the stretch of him adding a third finger inside of you—something you could take, pleaded for when you couldn’t have the stretch of his cock. But as his fingers press up and move faster, quicker, the squelch of your wetness louder than your ragged gasps from trying to keep quiet. The pressure of his thumb still moving against your clit so good that you know this has nothing to do with your pleasure, this is a punishment.

You didn’t follow orders and now he wants to see if you even know how to; don’t come, don’t come, don’t come.

Peter thinking you were anything less than his devoted disciple was the only thing that could bring you to tears. Not his cruelty, not the bloodshed he’s helped paint your hands with. He was your only weakness, and the only thing that could make you possess any grotesque human condition; love.

And he knows it, brings a smile to his face. Loved using it against you in and out of your bed; teasing you until you were so sickly weak for him to touch you—to fuck you, “you look so beautiful when you have that pathetic look on your face” he’d confess into your ear as he fucked you from behind; “this is the way you were meant to look, covered in their blood, beautiful” he’d declare as he ran his fingers over the dried blood on your tits as he thrusted into you.

He loved your love for him. Just as he loved your power. He could use it. Consume it.

What he didn’t love was good. It only caused disappointment and that’s what you have done. Disappointed him. The girl was still alive and you were being punished for it.

“I’m,” you swallow, whimper. “I’m sorry, please.”

His grin is dark, demented, dead. “Begging only makes it worse.” He presses his lips to your forehead, whispers against it. “Focus. Because if you cum, you won’t for a week.”

“Please,” You can feel your walls throbbing, clenching, swelling around his fingers. That low ache in your belly that feels more like a death sentence right now than it usually does when Peter’s touching you like this.

"You haven't shown me you've earned it. I think you've forgotten our purpose here.” There’s no pity in his eyes as he runs his nose down the bridge of yours, pulling back to grin down at you. “Good girls don’t get to cum.”

#peter ballard x reader #peter ballard #peter ballard x you #peter ballard smut #stranger things smut #001 x reader #henry creel x reader #peter ballard x y/n #001 #001 smut #001 x you #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #peter ballard fic #henry creel #henry creel smut

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kirishoshego · 3 years

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Moneypulated PT.2//Aizawa

!!!MINORS DNI!!! 18+ONLY!!!

Special thanks to Emmie for creating this awesome S&M event and letting me participate and those who requested a part two of my first Aizawa piece x

If you like Sadism and Masochism, BNHA; AOT and Haikyuu the event is definitely for you :)

Pairing: Sadist!Mob-Boss!Dom!Aizawa x Masochist!Sub!femreader Words:3.2+

Summary: When your life is threatened Aizawa realized just how important you are to him. A small fight leaves you bend over the couch, cross eyes and leads to him admitting his feelings for you.

TW: slight mention of torture (a bit more at the end), s&m, controlling Aizawa, calling him sir, knife play (no blood), slight ass and nipple play, orgasm denial, slight oral, biting, spanking, hair pulling, dirty talk, slight bit of degration and teasing

Three month, three weeks and three days. That’s how long it took you to develop positive feelings for him. He gave you everything, but privacy, something you had to learn rather quick because that man was strong and even though he doesn’t look like it, heavy. You told him no twice. The first time left you bruised for at least three days, fucked into oblivion. The second time left you sobbing from his impact play. You hated how little you could control your body, dripping wet before he slipped into you. Something he would love to taunt you with. „Always so quiet and modest. Yet here you are begging to be fucked by a criminal after he spanked you blue and green. Don’t tell me you like that. Tsk, dirty girl,“ he told you with a slight smirk on his face, one hand having a strong hold in your hair to hold you up so he could look at you. The other one pinched and played with clit, milking orgasm after orgasm.

He knew how to work his charm, knew how to impress you. Listened, remembered basically every detail about you. Aizawa wanted to know everything about you, from childhood memories to teenage drama to your goals and dreams. Of course he was genially interested in you, after all he wanted you at his side, but it was also helpful to know one or too secrets. Just in case. It was understandable that he was a bit shocked and also even more alarmed when Shota noticed how fast you adapted to the captive state of yours. There was no attempt of you running away, either because you knew it wouldn’t work with guards everywhere around you, or because you were afraid. So he tested it out. Gave you a car, told you to go enjoy yourself, get pampered for a surprise he had prepared.

First thing you did was getting new underwear because as much as you… appreciated him buying it for you you would like to have a few comfortable pieces that cover more than 3 inches of your skin. You stopped to get a nice drink at a small restaurant, got a small snack before you ended up buying four new plants. A smile creeped up on his face when his phone signaled him he got a new message from Shinso. Attached to it was a picture of you smiling while picking up the most sad looking flower he had ever seen.

It happened while driving back. You realized happiness started to form in your stomach at the thought of seeing him again. Excitement about showing him what you had bought. How could you be happy? After how he treated you in front of so many men, so many strangers. But then again he took care of a man who had sold you for his addiction. You knew he was in the hospital right now, after trying to enter the casino again. At first you thought he was there to get you, to show at least some sort of remorse. Even though their boss told them not to tell you those details Denki let it slip that Kirishima caught him gambling. With that your last string of attachment ripped apart. It wasn’t hard to choose between being left alone with nothing or a slightly questionable man who (as much as you would like to deny it) made you feel good, save and wanted.

That day was the first time he took you to the casino with him, introduced you to a part of his world. The one that was less brutal. He wouldn’t not let you see someone getting tortured. But he knew how gruesome it can get and even though he wouldn’t tell anyone, he threw up after his first time, felt sick the first five. It just made it so much easier to get people to talk. Or make them stop. Sometimes they need to be taught a lesson or too to not put their noses in his businesses.

Rumors started to spread around fast after your first appearance. Shota Aizawa has a trophy wife. Something that made him weak. A pretty one on top of that and she was supposed to be his little lucky charm. Every table you appeared at, the house would win. You didn’t play yourself, you only sat besides your... Well, besides the mob boss himself.

There was no explanation for it really, it wasn’t luck per se. It was math. Some liked math in school, some didn’t. What you liked more though was winning. And games like these were hard to predict, but not impossible. Another aspect were their faces. Everyone focused on their face and those of others, tried to keep cool while detecting a mistake of others that they forgot about other limbs. Some tapped their fingers against the table or cards, others would play with their drink, swirling the ice cubes around without touching it. Some bounced their legs, crossed them, scratched them. Once you caught their mistake it was over for them.

While some got scared because of it, others seemed to find a challenge in it. They wanted to beat you. How could you know that one night you will have the son of another mob boss on the table? He was supposed to be a spy, simply collect information about you and leave. But the opportunity to beat you and therefor Aizawa was too alluring. How could he know that he will lose almost 33 Million yen in one night? And with those 33 Million yen came a big target right on your back.

In less than 24 hours a collection of pictures and informations about you was delivered to Peony. In less than 24 hours your world was turned upside down yet again. The freedom you were given was taken away in order to protect you. His worry for you was understandable but when he decided to have Bakugo and Kirishima on your heels 24/7 you had enough.

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

„I’m inside the house! The house has walls almost thrice as high as Kirishima’s 7 foot frame, a massive garden with six well trained guard dogs running around. You have the best alarm system there is on the market and still I’m not even allowed to use the bathroom in private. It’s humiliating,“ you explained to him angrily. „I would rather humiliate you than pick up your dead body limp by limp,“ he tried reasoning. „Do you even hear yourself? How can you say something like that? Do you not trust your men? I can defend myself! Eijiro has-„ suddenly you went quiet, realizing too late what gravitating mistake you just that you had just exposed yourself.

„Eijiro has what? Continue doll. I‘m all ears,“ he leaned back against his desk, crossing his arms over his in a black shirt clad chest. „We shouldn‘t be changing the subject now. I need-," „What you need is to tell me what Kirishima did,“ you wouldn‘t be so on edge if he yelled at you, screaming at the top of his lungs, slam his hand on the desk, anything. Instead he was dangerously calm, collected, ready for you to make the next step. Knowing you were trapped like a small mouse between a wall and an awaiting cat, only playing with its fear.

„I will tell you if you promise me he isn‘t going to suffer any consequences. He had no ill intentions,“ you started explaining, making a step forward and trying to look as timid as possible so he will show mercy. „You actually think you‘re in a position to negotiate? Oh darling, it is breaking my heart a tiny bit to see you’re underestimating me,“ he faked a pained expression before closing the gab between the two of you.

You knew better than to relax yourself into his touch as he caressed your cheek, planting a small kiss on your forehead.

„Now,“ Aizawa stood behind you within a second, your wrists in his hand behind your back, something cold against your neck. „Please continue before I lose the small amount of patience that is left inside of me,” he sounded threatening, his voice deep and raspy, mouth dangerously close to your ear lobe. The knife near your aorta send adrenaline through your whole body, your pussy pulsing as you caught sight of your current position in his window.

You noticed his eyes wandering over the curves of your body, as the sound heavy breathing hit your ear. It seems like he was holding back, but be the looks of it all he wanted to do was drag the knife along your clothes and watch it drop to the floor. It wasn’t on purpose, more or less, but your hand brushed against his crotch, hearing him hiss as you touched his hard length for a mere second. The grip on the red handle tightened, pulling your body into his and leading your hand back to his crotch.

Eyes met in the window as he licked his lips. He tilted your head back slightly with the tip of the sharp blade, kissing the spot behind your ear.

„Sorry kitten, but this isn’t the time to play,“ he whispered into your ear while you started massaging him through his suit pants. A smirk appeared on your face as you agreed with him ‚oh I know, sir‘ you basically purred. Within seconds you pulled yourself away from him with your whole strength, bowing as he went to grab your hair and kicking back into his stomach as you turned which send him to the floor as he stumbled. Grabbing the knife from his hand and dropping onto his hips as you held the knife to his throat.

„Eijiro taught me how to defend myself, so I don’t have creepy old men all over me,“ you told him, a sudden wisp of a moan leaving your throat as he grabbed your hips and ground his pelvis against yours. „I didn’t know I’m a creepy old man. Wasn’t it just yesterday that you begged me to stuff you? And wasn’t it you that screamed my name so the whole house could hear who fucks you ‚like a god‘? Hm… I must confuse you with someone else that came cross eyed all over me considering I don’t play with brats,“ as the last word left his mouth he flipped you around, turning you so your stomach was flat against the freshly cleaned floor, hand in between your shoulder blades to hold you down.

He thanked the sun for shining so brightly and the clouds for not appearing, considering it lead to you dressed in the shortest little sundress you could find in your closet. The color suited you so damn well and the dress made it so easy for him to uncover your ass. His hungry eyes starred at it in its full glory, feeling his rock hard cock to twitch in his pants.

The blade was dragged across your skin and he could have fucked you right then and there as he noticed how you tried to clench your legs, goose bumps appearing on your skin. „Don’t tell me you enjoy this, such a dirty girl,“ he stopped right at the hem of your underwear, dragging the flat side across your clit and earning another moan of yours. He chuckled, „I see.“

Suddenly the blade was back at your throat, his other hand massaging your ass. „If you try to move or forget to thank me I might have to use the sharp side next time and we don’t want that do we doll?“ Shota asked you, the tip slightly pressed onto your sweet spot as you took to long to reply for his liking. „No sir,“ your voice was slightly shaky as the anticipation inside of you grew. „Not so tough anymore, thought so,“ he loved your submissive state, every time he thought he went too far you were there dripping wet for him.

Without a warning his hand came down hard on your ass, massaging your cheek before disappearing again. „Thank you sir,“ you moaned, the next slap delivered right after. „Thank you sir,“ you said again, feeling our wetness slowly seeping through the thin fabric covering your cunt. Every once in a while he would dip his fingers between your folds, playing with your clit until you’re about to cum, only to stop and spank you again.

Once your ass was a bright red and noticeable handprints adorned your flesh he decided he had enough. The last few thank you’s gave away that you started crying softly, maybe slightly caused by the pain, but more at fault definitely were the denied orgasms.

„Had time to overthink your statement from earlier?“ Aizawa went down to your ass, pushing your panties to the side and dragging his tongue across your slit, dipping inside for a second to collect some of your juice. Kisses were plastered across your abused skin, bitting down onto it to hear you moan again.

„I give you ten seconds to go over to my couch, get undressed and bend over it,“ if you weren’t so incredibly needy right now you might even had begged for some more spanks.

You could hear him get undressed as you did the same, back turned to him to allow him a nice view on your behind.

You could feel his presence even before he touched you, the smell of his cologne mixed with his sweat hitting your nose. Rough hands collided with your ass once more, before wandering up your back, one finding its way into your hair, the other one holding his thick girth in his hand and dragging it from your clit to your hole. You whined as you noticed him going back down again with his tip, which lead to him plunging into your throbbing pussy all at once. Curses tumbled from the both of you, finally getting what you wanted.

Shota pulled you up by your hair, allowing his hand to play with chest. Cold metal came in contact with your nipples and only now did you realize that he had brought the knife with him. It took maybe a minute for your first orgasm to hit, considering the ones you were denied earlier had you on edge already. „Done already kitten? Does that mean you want me to stop?“ He knew it meant everything but. It’s just, having you beg for more gets him every time and he can’t deny how powerful it made him feel, which he needed now more than ever. „No, fuck. Please sir, need mo-oh, more,“ a moan cut through you as a single thrust hit your g-spot directly.

„Take it then,“ he pulled you down with him on the couch, his back against the backrest as you straddled his legs. Do to the new position his cock was even deeper than before and you were shaking with almost every bounce as you went up and down on him. Black eyes wandered from your face to your tits to your cunt, watching him disappear inside of you over and over again. Aizawa’s arms wandered from its resting place back to your body, one going to your back, the other one staying in the front.

You hissed, eyes growing wide as you felt rough fingers circling your puckering hole, while the other ones drew lazy patterns on your clit. Every now and then he would meet your movements, burying himself even deeper inside of you. By now you were a moaning mess, clenching around him as you could feel another knot building up in the pit of your stomach. „It’s alright, I got you. You can cum, I know you want to,“ Shota groaned, picking up the speed of his fingers and watching in pure bliss as you came undone once again, slowing down and pulling you into a deep kiss.

As you went to get up from him, your body now sensitive he grabbed your hips, pushing you down again. „Just because you’re on top doesn’t mean you get to control when we’re done,“ he said, delivering a harsh slip to the left side of your tits, before grabbing your throat and pushing you down into the mating press. „You have to remember your place doll. I get decide when we’re finished and I’m not done yet,“ he grunted, snapping his hips as the hand around you held you in place firmly. A warning slap heated up your tears stained cheek when you tried to wiggle away from him and he felt you clenching around his dick.

You looked so good with mascara running down your face, he thought, feeling himself getting closer and closer as you moaned his name like some sort of prayer. „Again, please,“ you said, feeling the third high coming. It took him a second to understand what you asked for, but when it finally clicked he cursed under his breath, telling you how perfect you are. As he slapped you again, holding your face in his hand and kissing your lips hotly you were holding onto his arm for dear life. Stars appeared in front your eyes as you came once again. You barely noticed anything but his thrusts turning sloppy before he released himself inside of you, buried deep and painting your insides white.

„I didn’t know pain turned you on so much,“ he said with a lazy smile on his face, looking down on your face, your embarrassed expression hardly hidden. „Me neither to be honest… You know how it went in the past,“ you hinted at your unsatisfied sex life with your ex husband, who thought doggy style was already pretty kinky. No shame to vanilla people, but now you knew it wasn’t what you wanted. „It’s good to know, we will test out more things in the future,“ the thought of it turned you on again already and you kissed his chest, letting him know you like the sound of that idea.

„I love you, you know?“ He mumbled as the two of you laid on the couch while drawing patterns on your back lazily. Your heart skipped a bit, this was the first time Aizawa mentioned his feelings for you. „You don’t gotta say it back, I know it’s all a bit messy,“ he said, kissing your forehead. „No, it’s just… After sex the mind is always bit-,“ „Yours might be after that but mine is as clear as ever,“ he cut you off, making you roll your eyes and laugh gently. „I love you too,“ it was mumbled, almost unnoticeable, but he heard you just fine which was all he needed.

————————————- Extra—————————————-

„I run this town. Piss me off again and your wife will find out about your little affair with your little lover boy. She’s pregnant, right? And you would like to be able to care for her don’t you? If so, I suggest you to never threaten my wife or my men ever again. It won’t just be your finger that I cut off, understood?“ He knew killing him off immediately will only cause war. He would win, of course, but it would be unnecessary and taking too much of his energy. „Yes Mister Aizawa,“ the hatred and fear in his eyes pleased him enough for the day, so he walked out of the room, ordering Bakugo to drop him off a few miles away from everyone. A nice nightly walk might clear his head he explained so the man bound to the chair could hear him just fine. „Don’t worry, I will let you keep your finger, but you should hurry, they turn bad fast,“ with that he went into the dark, ready to get home to you.

©kirishoshego//do not repost on any plattforms

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leviiattacks · 3 years

Note

your angst is really good and i wanted to may i request guard levi and princess reader, they have an affair because they end up falling in love but one day levi can’t protect her because he takes his eyes off her and idk the plot i just felt like crying today and i need a reason so just something angsty😭

note :: i saw this and really wanted to write something but i’m not really sure if i did well it’s shorter than what i normally write but hopefully i did some justice to your request. requests are open so feel free to drop by again and request if you want to !!

++ might make this into an actual fic perhaps,,, minus the dying and what not but guard levi is a very interesting concept to me hmm

warnings :: blood, death, infidelity

No one knows or is able to understand why or how Levi is having such a hard time coping with your death. You are the princess of the nation and he, your guard. Nothing more, nothing less.

At least that’s what everyone else in the Kingdom thinks.

Every night he greets your book shelf like a mad man. Well, it’s all he has to remember you by, why would he ever let it go with ease?

"What you reading? Another sappy romance novel?" He's poked his head from a corner and you grin up at him telling him that you are indeed indulging in another piece of romantic fiction.

For an unknown reason dread fills his gut when he meets your smile, that's never happened before.

It's a bad omen, a sign that he's fallen but is in denial, refutation, rejection, contradiction whatever it is he can't find an appropriate word for it. All he knows is he'll regret this later. He doesn't know why but the sinking feeling in his stomach is an indication that this forbidden romance the two of you share in secrecy will go South.

It’s silent apart from your humming.

"Levi... can you promise me you'll live a long happy life?" The out of place question is worrying. Another premonition and he opens his mouth to voice his concern. However your gaze lingers on his face telling him to not cause a dispute, not right now.

"If you promise me the same, then yes My Lady."

Looking away you're awake but distant. "We are in privacy. You may use my name Levi."

"And, I don't know if I can live a long and happy life. I can try." The slow confession only makes his heart race uncomfortably.

He sighs sitting beside you, your shoulders rub against his. "Then I retract my previous statement. I cannot possibly live a happy life when the princess is discontent."

You flail your arms around, hands are flapping in front of your chest in an attempt to convince him to not think so foolishly.

He narrows his eyes. Expression unreadable, a mix of frustration, maybe even premature grief. It's enough to coax an agreement out of you.

"Very well, I promise to live happy."

Fists clenching your bed sheets he damns himself to Hell for ignoring his instincts. For putting your life in jeopardy all for his own temporary satisfaction.

His forehead hits the plush duvet and he inhales the linen hoping that your smell lingers, hoping that the vanilla is still present. Hoping there’s something left to prove he hasn’t made you up. He fears he’ll forget your scent, your voice, your touch. He fears he’ll forget it all.

If he had followed orders, never let himself grow emotionally involved perhaps you would still be here. Perhaps, if he didn't lead you astray and convince you to betray royalty by pursuing what the two of you shared, maybe just maybe you would still be alive and well.

He'll end up in damnation for all the pain and suffering he's caused you, He curses himself every day for having the nerve to fall in love with a member of Royalty.

No matter how well respected or how strong he was in the military he never had the power to protect you from the political turmoil your family was submerged in. He wasn't of Royal blood, there was nothing he could do to protect you.

One of you would die first, and die you did.

He assumes he was made to suffer through that bleak, unwelcoming night for a reason. That's why he had to see the enemy take you away from him, he needed to be given a reality check.

Royalty and commoners are worlds apart for a reason.

You scream at the world as you call for him, shrieking as the blade erupts from your stomach. It’s throbbing and strumming in vengeance. The contents of your belly become one with the floor but the pungent stench isn't enough to pry Levi away from you. The air is quickly fogging up with the scent of your blood and insides. You whimper, you cry, you sob staring at the heavens.

"You are not dying on me, You can't be dying on me, I won't let you die on me. We haven't said goodbye properly, you can't just-"

"Yes I can Levi. I am not immortal." There you are laughing as you wilt in his arms, you disregard the emptiness you feel, you need to comfort him. Withering away isn't an option for now.

Frantically attempting to staunch the wound to no avail Levi is distraught when he feels you slipping away from him. "You promised to live a long happy life." He murmurs in betrayal, his eyes are glazed over in complete shock.

Panting out of exhaustion and pressing down firmer he's pleading you to not let go of him just yet.

You watch him unravel above you, eyes squeezed shut, he’s lurching forward burying the sounds that want to escape from his chest so badly.

Your shaking hands travel to his cheeks cupping them gently and you draw hesitant circles into his cold skin.

Levi’s tears fall and you sense the dampness coat your fingertips.

"If you were paying attention you would know I promised to live happy Levi, not live long."

You broke the promise, an early death is not dying happy.

He's stunned, he should’ve known you’d pull something like that.

"You made me the happiest Levi."

He thinks that’s a lie.

You break under the pressure and finally admit how you feel.

"I'm scared, what if we never-"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence, we will do what we've planned. I promise." He growls assertive in his point of view.

But, you know it's too late. Placing his unsteady hand above your heart you let your other hand fall from his face. The energy is being drained out of you quicker than expected.

"I dreamt about you last night, dreamt we could be happy.” You hack and gasp desperately for breath but much to Levi’s horrified gaze the blood only trickles down your chin. “I hope we reunite whether that be in the afterlife if that place is real or in another life entirely. We will become lovers but we can't indulge in that luxury right now."

"No, no, no. Shut up, stop talking you're wasting your breath you need to-"

"I love you Levi, please live happily for me."

Then you are limp.

His eyes shoot open as the scene draws to an end. Yet another nightmare has plagued him, one where he is reminded of your passing.

The title of murderer is self appointed, he holds himself responsible for taking his eyes off you. It gave your assassin the perfect window of opportunity to strike, it had been enough to take you out like a faltering light.

Sometimes as he drinks into the night trying to forget it all. He wonders if everything would be different if he had kept his love for you locked away.

Would you still be alive and married to that other man whilst he would have to watch on in pain?

But nothing would be more painful than now, he’d rather watch that instead of accept that you are long gone.

Would you still be alive and forced to bed your horrible fiancé?

Would you carry that man’s children?

He hates himself for confessing and telling you how he felt. He despises that you had to suffer for his sin.

But, that’s the issue with love. It had made the danger in Levi look like safety to you and it had made the danger in you look like peace to Levi.

There are reasons why a guard and his princess should never mingle.

After all, they are worlds apart for a reason.

#levi #levi ackerman #aot #snk #attack on titan #attack on titan levi #aot fanfiction #aot headcanons #levi headcanons #guard levi #levi x reader #levi x y/n #levi angst #levi fanfiction #leviiattacks #levi scenario #this probably isn't that good so i'm sorry anon T____T

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iamshwee · 3 years

Text

SHADOW WORK: The Ultimate Guide

I. Why Focusing Only on the Light is a Form of Escapism

For most of my life, I’ve grown up firmly believing that the only thing worthy of guiding me was “light” and “love.” Whether through the family environment I was raised in, or the cultural myths I was brought up clinging to, I once believed that all you really needed to do in life to be happy was to focus on everything beautiful, positive and spiritually “righteous.” I’m sure you were raised believing a similar story as well. It’s a sort of “Recipe for Well-Being.”

But a few years ago, after battling ongoing mental health issues, I realized something shocking:

I was wrong.

Not just wrong, but completely and utterly off the mark. Focusing only on “love and light” will not heal your wounds on a deep level. In fact, I’ve learned through a lot of heavy inner work, that not only is focusing solely on “holiness” in life one side of the equation, but it is actually a form of spiritually bypassing your deeper, darker problems that, let me assure you, almost definitely exist.

It is very easy and comfortable to focus only on the light side of life. So many people in today’s world follow this path. And while it might provide some temporary emotional support, it doesn’t reach to the depths of your being: it doesn’t transform you at a core level. Instead, it leaves you superficially hanging onto warm and fuzzy platitudes which sound nice, but don’t enact any real change.

What DOES touch the very depths of your being, however, is exploring your Shadow.

II. What is the Human Shadow?

In short, the human shadow is our dark side; our lost and forgotten disowned self.

Your shadow is the place within you that contains all of your secrets, repressed feelings, primitive impulses, and parts deemed “unacceptable,” shameful, “sinful” or even “evil.”

This dark place lurking within your unconscious mind also contains suppressed and rejected emotions such as rage, jealousy, hatred, greed, deceitfulness, and selfishness.

So where did the Shadow Self idea originate? The concept was originally coined and explored by Swiss psychiatrist and psychoanalyst, Carl Jung. In Jung’s own words:

“Everyone carries a shadow, and the less it is embodied in the individual’s conscious life, the blacker and denser it is.”

When the human Shadow is shunned, it tends to undermine and sabotage our lives. Addictions, low self-esteem, mental illness, chronic illnesses, and various neuroses are all attributed to the Shadow Self. When our Shadows are suppressed or repressed in the unconscious long enough, they can even overtake our entire lives and causes psychosis or extreme forms of behavior like cheating on one’s partner or physically harming others. Intoxicants such as alcohol and drugs also have a tendency to unleash the Shadow.

Thankfully, there is a way to explore the Shadow and prevent it from devouring our existence, and that is called Shadow Work.

III. What is Shadow Work?

Shadow work is the process of exploring your inner darkness or “Shadow Self.” As mentioned previously, your Shadow Self is part of your unconscious mind and contains everything you feel ashamed of thinking and feeling, as well as every impulse, repressed idea, desire, fear, and perversion that for one reason or another, you have “locked away” consciously or unconsciously. Often this is done as a way of keeping yourself tame, likable, and “civilized” in the eyes of others.

Shadow work is the attempt to uncover everything that we have hidden and every part of us that has been disowned and rejected within our Shadow Selves.

Why? Because without revealing to ourselves what we have hidden, we remain burdened with problems such as anger, guilt, shame, disgust, and grief.

All throughout the history of mankind Shadow Work has played a powerful yet mysterious and occult role in helping us discover what is causing us mental illness, physical dis-ease and even insanity resulting in crimes of all kinds.

Traditionally, Shadow Work fell in the realm of the Shamans, or medicine people, as well as the priests and priestesses of the archaic periods of history. These days, Shadow Work falls more commonly in the realms of psychotherapy, with psychologists, psychiatrists, spiritual guides, and therapists.

IV. Do We All Have a Shadow Self?

Yes, we ALL have a Shadow Self.

As uncomfortable as it may sound, there is a dark side within every human being. Why is this the case? The reason why all human beings have a shadow is due to the way we were raised as human beings, often referred to as our ‘conditioning.’

“But I’m a good person! I don’t have a ‘shadow’ side,” you might be thinking. Well, the reality is that yes, you might be a good person. In fact, you might be the most generous, loving, and selfless person in the entire world. You might feed the hungry, save puppies, and donate half of your salary to the poor. But that doesn’t exclude you from having a Shadow.

There are no exceptions here.

The nature of being human is to possess both a light and a dark side, and we need to embrace that.

Sometimes, when people hear that they have a Shadow side (or when it is pointed out), there is a lot of denial. We have been taught to perceive ourselves in a very two-dimensional and limited way. We have been taught that only criminals, murderers, and thieves have a Shadow side.

This black and white thinking is one of the major causes of our suffering.

If the thought of having a Shadow side disturbs you, take a moment to consider whether you have developed an idealized self.

Signs of an idealized self include attitudes such as:

· “I’m not like those people, I’m better.”

· “I have never strayed.”

· “God is proud of me.”

· “Criminals and wrongdoers aren’t human.”

· “Everyone sees how good I am (even so, I have to remind them).”

· “I’m a role model.”

· “I should be validated and applauded for my good deeds.”

· “I don’t have bad thoughts, so why do others?”

Such perceptions about oneself are unrealistic, unhealthy, and largely delusional. The only way to find inner peace, happiness, authentic love, self-fulfillment, and Illumination is to explore our Shadow.

V. How is Our Shadow Side Formed?

Your Shadow side is formed in childhood and is both (a) a product of natural ego development, and (b) a product of conditioning or socialization. Socialization is the process of learning to behave in a way that is acceptable to society.

When we are born, we are are all full of potential, with the ability to survive and develop in a variety of ways. As time goes on, we learn more and more to become a certain type of person. Slowly, due to our circumstances and preferences, we begin to adopt certain character traits and reject others. For example, if we are born into a family that shows little interpersonal warmth, we will develop personality traits that make us self-sufficient and perhaps standoffish or mind-oriented. If we are born into a family that rewards compliance and shuns rebellion, we will learn that being submissive works, and thus adopt that as part of our ego structure.

As authors and Jungian therapists, Steve Price and David Haynes write:

“But, as we develop our ego-personality, we also do something else at the same time. What has happened to all those parts of our original potential that we didn’t develop? They won’t just cease to exist: they will still be there, as potential or as partly developed, then rejected, personality attributes, and they will live on in the unconscious as an alternative to the waking ego. So, by the very act of creating a specifically delineated ego-personality, we have also created its opposite in the unconscious. This is the shadow. Everyone has one.”

As we can see, developing the Shadow Self is a natural part of development.

But you also formed an alter ego due to social conditioning, i.e. your parents, family members, teachers, friends, and society at large all contributed to your Shadow.

How?

Well here’s the thing: polite society operates under certain rules. In other words, certain behaviors and characteristics are approved of, while others are shunned. Take anger for example. Anger is an emotion that is commonly punished while growing up. Throwing tantrums, swearing, and destroying things was frowned upon by our parents and teachers. Therefore, many of us learned that expressing anger was not “OK.” Instead of being taught healthy ways to express our anger, we were punished sometimes physically (with smacks or being grounded), and often emotionally (withdrawal of love and affection).

There are countless behaviors, emotions, and beliefs that are rejected in society, and thus, are rejected by ourselves. In order to fit in, be accepted, approved, and loved, we learned to act a certain way. We adopted a role that would ensure our mental, emotional, and physical survival. But at the same time, wearing a mask has consequences. What happened to all the authentic, wild, socially taboo, or challenging parts of ourselves? They were trapped in the Shadow.

What happens as we grow up?

Through time, we learn to both enjoy, and despise, our socially-approved egos because, on the one hand, they make us feel good and “lovable,” but on the other hand, they feel phony and inhibited.

Therapist Steve Wolf has a perfect analogy that describes this process:

“Each of us is like Dorian Gray. We seek to present a beautiful, innocent face to the world; a kind, courteous demeanor; a youthful, intelligent image. And so, unknowingly but inevitably, we push away those qualities that do not fit the image, that does not enhance our self-esteem and make us stand proud but, instead, bring us shame and make us feel small. We shove into the dark cavern of the unconscious those feelings that make us uneasy — hatred, rage, jealousy, greed, competition, lust, shame — and those behaviors that are deemed wrong by the culture — addiction, laziness, aggression, dependency — thereby creating what could be called shadow content. Like Dorian’s painting, these qualities ultimately take on a life of their own, forming an invisible twin that lives just behind our life, or just beside it …”

But while the Shadow Self may be portrayed as our “evil twin,” it is not entirely full of “bad” stuff. There is actually gold to be found within the Shadow.

VI. What is the Golden Shadow?

Jung once states that “the shadow is ninety percent pure gold.” What this means is that there are many beautiful gifts offered to us by our Shadow side if we take the time to look. For example, so much of our creative potential is submerged within our darkness because we were taught when little to reject it.

Not everything within our Shadow is doom and gloom. In fact, the Shadow contains some of our most powerful gifts and talents, such as our artistic, sexual, competitive, innovative, and even intuitive aptitudes.

The ‘Golden Shadow’ also presents us with the opportunity for tremendous psychological and spiritual growth. By doing Shadow Work, we learn that every single emotion and wound that we possess has a gift to share with us. Even the most obnoxious, “ugly,” or shameful parts of ourselves provide a path back to Oneness. Such is the power of the Shadow – it is both a terrifying journey, but is ultimately a path to Enlightenment or Illumination. Every spiritual path needs Shadow Work to prevent the issues from happening that we’ll explore next.

VII. What Happens When You Reject Your Shadow?

When shadow-work is neglected, the soul feels dry, brittle, like an empty vessel. — S. Wolf

Rejecting, suppressing, denying, or disowning your Shadow, whether consciously or unconsciously, is a dangerous thing. The thing about the Shadow Self is that it seeks to be known. It yearns to be understood, explored, and integrated. It craves to be held in awareness. The longer the Shadow stays buried and locked in its jail cell deep within the unconscious, the more it will find opportunities to make you aware of its existence.

Both religion and modern spirituality tend to focus on the “love and light” aspects of spiritual growth to their own doom.

This over-emphasis on the fluffy, transcendental, and feel-good elements of a spiritual awakening results in shallowness and phobia of whatever is too real, earthy, or dark.

Spiritually bypassing one’s inner darkness results in a whole range of serious issues. Some of the most common and reoccurring Shadow issues that appear in the spiritual/religious community include pedophilia among priests, financial manipulation of followers among gurus, and of course, megalomania, narcissism, and God complexes among spiritual teachers.

Other issues that arise when we reject our Shadow side can include:

· Hypocrisy (believing and supporting one thing, but doing the other)

· Lies and self-deceit (both towards oneself and others)

· Uncontrollable bursts of rage/anger

· Emotional and mental manipulation of others

· Greed and addictions

· Phobias and obsessive compulsions

· Racist, sexist, homophobic, and other offensive behavior

· Intense anxiety

· Chronic psychosomatic illness

· Depression (which can turn into suicidal tendencies)

· Sexual perversion

· Narcissistically inflated ego

· Chaotic relationships with others

· Self-loathing

· Self-absorption

· Self-sabotage

… and many others. This is by no means a comprehensive list (and there are likely many other issues out there). As we’ll learn next, one of the greatest ways we reject our Shadow is through psychological projection.

VIII. The Shadow and Projection (a Dangerous Mix)

One of the biggest forms of Shadow rejection is something called projection.

Projection is a term that refers to seeing things in others that are actually within ourselves.

When we pair projection and the Shadow Self together, we have a dangerous mix. Why? Because as psychotherapist Robert A. Johnson writes:

“We generally seek to punish that which reminds us most uncomfortable about the part of ourselves that we have not come to terms with, and we often ‘see’ these disowned qualities in the world around us.”

There are many different ways we ‘punish’ those who are mirrors of our Shadow qualities. We may criticize, reject, hate, dehumanize, or even in extreme cases, physically or psychologically seek to destroy them (think of countries who go at war with the “enemies”). None of us are innocent in this area. We have ALL projected parts of our rejected self onto others. In fact, Shadow projection is a major cause of relationship dysfunction and break down.

If we are seeking to bring peace, love, and meaning to our lives, we absolutely MUST reclaim these projections. Through Shadow Work, we can explore exactly what we have disowned.

IX. Twelve Benefits of Shadow Work

Firstly, I want to say that I have the highest respect for Shadow Work. It is the single most important path I’ve taken to uncover my core wounds, core beliefs, traumas, and projections. I have also observed how Shadow Work has helped to create profound clarity, understanding, harmony, acceptance, release, and inner peace in the lives of others. It is truly deep work that makes changes on the Soul level targeting the very roots of our issues, not just the superficial symptoms.

There is SO much to be gained from making Shadow Work a part of your life, and daily routine. Here are some of the most commonly experienced benefits:

1. Deeper love and acceptance of yourself

2. Better relationships with others, including your partner and children

3. More confidence to be your authentic self

4. More mental, emotional, and spiritual clarity

5. Increased compassion/understanding for others = who you dislike

6. Enhanced creativity

7. Discovery of hidden gifts and talents

8. Deepened understanding of your passions and ultimate life purpose

9. Improved physical and mental health

10. More courage to face the unknown and truly live life

11. Access to your Soul or Higher Self

12. A feeling of Wholeness

It’s important to remember that there are no quick fixes in Shadow Work, so these life-changing benefits don’t just happen overnight. But with persistence, they will eventually emerge and bless your life.

X. Seven Tips for Approaching Shadow Work

Before you begin Shadow Work, you need to assess whether you’re ready to embark on this journey. Not everyone is prepared for this deep work, and that’s fine. We’re all at different stages. So pay attention to the following questions and try to answer them honestly:

· Have you practiced self-love yet?

o If not, Shadow Work will be too overwhelming for you. I have starred this bullet point because it is essential for you to consider. Shadow Work should not be attempted by those who have poor self-worth or struggle with self-loathing. In other words: if you struggle with severely low self-esteem, please do not attempt Shadow Work. I emphatically warn you against doing it. Why? If you struggle with extremely poor self-worth, exploring your Shadow will likely make you feel ten times worse about yourself. Before you walk this path, you absolutely must establish a strong and healthy self-image. No, you don’t have to think you’re God’s gift to the world, but having average self-worth is important. Try taking this self-esteem test to explore whether you’re ready (but first, don’t forget to finish this article!).

· Are you prepared to make time?

o Shadow Work is not a lukewarm practice. You are either all in or all out. Yes, it is important to take a break from it from time to time. But Shadow Work requires dedication, self-discipline, and persistence. Are you willing to intentionally carve out time each day to dedicate to it? Even just ten minutes a day is a good start.

· Are you looking to be validated or to find the truth?

o As you probably know by now, Shadow Work isn’t about making you feel special. It isn’t like typical spiritual paths that are focused on the feel-good. No, Shadow Work can be brutal and extremely confronting. This is a path for truth seekers, not those who are seeking to be validated.

· Seek to enter a calm and neutral space.

o It is important to try and relax when doing Shadow Work. Stress and judgmental or critical attitudes will inhibit the process. So please try to incorporate a calming meditation or mindfulness technique into whatever you do.

· Understand that you are not your thoughts.

o You need to realize that you are not your thoughts for Shadow Work to be healing and liberating. Only from your calm and quiet Center (also known as your Soul) can you truly be aware of your Shadow aspects. By holding them in awareness, you will see them clearly for what they are, and realize that they ultimately don’t define you; they are simply rising and falling mental phenomena.

· Practice self-compassion.

o It is of paramount importance to incorporate compassion and self-acceptance into your Shadow Work practice. Without showing love and understanding to yourself, it is easy for Shadow Work to backfire and make you feel terrible. So focus on generating self-love and compassion, and you will be able to release any shame and embrace your humanity.

· Record everything you find.

o Keep a written journal or personal diary in which you write down, or draw, your discoveries. Recording your dreams, observations, and analysis will help you to learn and grow more effectively. You’ll also be able to keep track of your process and make important connections.

XI. How to Practice Shadow Work

There are many Shadow Work techniques and exercises out there. In this guide, I will provide a few to help you start off. I’ll also share a few examples from my own life:

1. Pay attention to your emotional reactions

In this practice, you’ll learn that what you give power to has power over you. Let me explain:

One Shadow Work practice I enjoy a great deal is paying attention to everything that shocks, disturbs, and secretly thrills me. Essentially, this practice is about finding out what I’ve given the power to in my life unconsciously, because: what we place importance in – whether good or bad – says a lot about us.

The reality is that what we react to, or what makes us angry and distressed, reveals extremely important information to us about ourselves.

For example, by following where my “demons” have taken me – whether in social media, family circles, workspaces, and public places – I have discovered two important things about myself. The first one is that I’m a control freak; I hate feeling vulnerable, powerless and weak . . . it quite simply scares the living hell out of me. How did I discover this? Through my intense dislike of witnessing rape scenes in movies and TV shows, my negative reaction to novel experiences (e.g. roller coaster rides, public speaking, etc.), as well as my discomfort surrounding sharing information about my life with others in conversations. Also, by following where my “demons” have guided me I’ve discovered that I’m being burdened by an exasperating guilt complex that I developed through my religious upbringing. Apart of me wants to feel unworthy because that is what I’ve developed a habit of feeling since childhood (e.g. “You’re a sinner,” “It’s your fault Jesus was crucified”), and therefore, that is what I secretly feel comfortable with feeling: unworthy. So my mind nit-picks anything I might have done “wrong,” and I’m left with the feeling of being “bad” – which I’m used to, but nevertheless, this is destructive for my well-being.

Thanks to this practice, I have welcomed more compassion, mindfulness, and forgiveness into my life.

Paying attention to your emotional reactions can help you to discover exactly how your core wounds are affecting you on a daily basis.

How to Pay Attention to Your Emotional Reactions

To effectively pay attention to your emotional reactions (I call it “following the trail of your inner demons”), you first need to cultivate:

1. Self-awareness

Without being conscious of what you’re doing, thinking, feeling, and saying, you won’t progress very far.

If, however, you are fairly certain that you’re self-aware (or enough to start the process), you will then need to:

2. Adopt an open mindset

You will need to have the courage and willingness to observe EVERYTHING uncomfortable you place importance in, and ask “why?” What do I mean by the phrase “placing importance in”? By this, I mean that, whatever riles, shocks, infuriates, disturbs and terrifies you, you must pay attention to. Closely.

Likely, you will discover patterns constantly emerging in your life. For example, you might be outraged or embarrassed every time sex appears in a TV show or movie you like (possibly revealing sexual repression or mistaken beliefs about sex that you’ve adopted throughout life). Or you might be terrified of seeing death or dead people (possibly revealing your resistance to the nature of life or childhood trauma). Or you might be disgusted by alternative political, sexual, and spiritual lifestyles (possibly revealing your hidden desire to do the same).

There are so many possibilities out there, and I encourage you to go slowly, take your time, and one by one pick through what you place importance in.

“But I DON’T place importance in gross, bad or disturbing things in life, how could I? I don’t care for them!” you might be asking.

Well, think for a moment. If you didn’t place so much importance on what makes you angry, disgusted or upset . . . why would you be reacting to it so much? The moment you emotionally react to something is the moment you have given that thing power over you. Only that which doesn’t stir up emotions in us is not important to us.

See what you respond to and listen to what your Shadow is trying to teach you.

2. Artistically Express Your Shadow Self

Art is the highest form of self-expression and is also a great way to allow your Shadow to manifest itself. Psychologists often use art therapy as a way to help patients explore their inner selves.

Start by allowing yourself to feel (or drawing on any existing) dark emotions. Choose an art medium that calls to you such as pen and pencil, watercolor, crayon, acrylic paint, scrapbooking, sculpting, etc. and draw what you feel. You don’t need to consider yourself an ‘artist’ to benefit from this activity. You don’t even need to plan what you’ll create. Just let your hands, pen, pencil, or paintbrush do the talking. The more spontaneous, the better. Artistic expression can reveal a lot about your obscure darker half. Psychologist Carl Jung (who conceptualized the Shadow Self idea) was even famous for using mandalas in his therapy sessions.

3. Start a Project

The act of creation can be intensely frustrating and can give birth to some of your darker elements such as impatience, anger, blood-thirsty competitiveness, and self-doubt. At the same time, starting a project also allows you to experience feelings of fulfillment and joy.

If you don’t already have a personal project that you’re undertaking (such as building something, writing a book, composing music, mastering a new skill), find something you would love to start doing. Using self-awareness and self-exploration during the process of creation, you will be able to reap deeper insights into your darkness. Ask yourself constantly, “What am I feeling and why?” Notice the strong emotions that arise during the act of creation, both good and bad. You will likely be surprised by what you find!

For example, as a person who considers myself non-competitive, that assumption has been challenged by the act of writing this blog. Thanks to this project, the Shadow within me of ruthless competitiveness has shown its face, allowing me to understand myself more deeply.

4. Write a Story or Keep a Shadow Journal

Goethe’s story Faust is, in my opinion, one of the best works featuring the meeting of an ego and his Shadow Self. His story details the life of a Professor who becomes so separated and overwhelmed by his Shadow that he comes to the verge of suicide, only to realize that the redemption of the ego is solely possible if the Shadow is redeemed at the same time.

Write a story where you project your Shadow elements onto the characters – this is a great way to learn more about your inner darkness. If stories aren’t your thing, keeping a journal or diary every day can shine a light on the darker elements of your nature. Reading through your dark thoughts and emotions can help you to recover the balance you need in life by accepting both light and dark emotions within you.

5. Explore Your Shadow Archetypes

We have several Shadow varieties, also called Shadow Archetypes. These archetypes are sometimes defined as:

· The Sorcerer/Alchemist

· The Dictator

· The Victim

· The Shadow Witch

· The Addict

· The Idiot

· The Trickster

· The Destroyer

· The Slave

· The Shadow Mother

· The Hag

· The Hermit

However, I have my own Shadow Archetype classification, which I will include below.

13 Shadow Archetypes

Here are my thirteen classifications which are based on my own self-observations and analysis of others:

1. The Egotistical Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: arrogance, egocentricity, pompousness, inconsiderateness, self-indulgence, narcissism, excessive pride.

2. The Neurotic Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: paranoia, obsessiveness, suspiciousness, finicky, demanding, compulsive behavior.

3. The Untrustworthy Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: secretive, impulsive, frivolous, irresponsible, deceitful, unreliable.

4. The Emotionally Unstable Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: moody, melodramatic, weepy, overemotional, impulsive, changeable.

5. The Controlling Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: suspicious, jealous, possessive, bossy, obsessive.

6. The Cynical Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: negative, overcritical, patronizing, resentful, cantankerous.

7. The Wrathful Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: ruthless, vengeful, bitchy, quick-tempered, quarrelsome.

8. The Rigid Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: uptight, intolerant, racist, sexist, ableist, homophobic, obstinate, uncompromising, inflexible, narrow-minded.

9. The Glib Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: superficial, cunning, inconsistent, sly, crafty.

10. The Cold Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: emotionally detached, distant, indifferent, uncaring, unexcited.

11. The Perverted Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: masochistic, lewd, sadistic, vulgar, libidinous.

12. The Cowardly Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: weak-willed, passive, timid, fearful.

13. The Immature Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: puerile, childish, illogical, simpleminded, vacuous.

Keep in mind that the above Shadow Archetypes are by no means exhaustive. I’m sure that there are many others out there which I have missed. But you are free to use this breakdown to help you explore your own Shadows. You’re also welcome to add to this list or create your own Shadow Archetypes, which I highly encourage. For example, you might possess a judgmental and dogmatic Shadow who you call “The Nun,” or a sexually deviant Shadow who you call “The Deviant.” Play around with some words and labels, and see what suits your Shadows the best.

6. Have an Inner Conversation

Also known as “Inner Dialogue,” or as Carl Jung phrased it, “Active Imagination,” having a conversation with your Shadow is an easy way to learn from it.

I understand if you might feel a twinge of skepticism towards this practice right now. After all, we are taught that “only crazy people talk to themselves.” But inner dialogue is regularly used in psychotherapy as a way to help people communicate with the various subpersonalities that they have – and we all possess various faces and sides of our ego.

One easy way to practice inner dialogue is to sit in a quiet place, close your eyes, and tune into the present moment. Then, think of a question you would like to ask your Shadow, and silently speak it within your mind. Wait a few moments and see if you ‘hear’ or ‘see’ an answer. Record anything that arises and reflect on it. It is even possible to carry on a conversation with your Shadow using this method. Just ensure that you have an open mindset. In other words, don’t try to control what is being said, just let it flow naturally. You will likely be surprised by the answers you receive!

Visualization is another helpful way of engaging in inner dialogue. I recommend bringing to mind images of dark forests, caves, holes in the ground, or the ocean as these all represent the unconscious mind. Always ensure that you enter and exit your visualization in the same manner, e.g. if you are walking down a path, make sure you walk back up the path. Or if you open a particular door, make sure you open the same door when returning back to normal consciousness. This practice will help to draw you effortlessly in and out of visualizations.

7. Use the Mirror Technique

As we have learned, projection is a technique of the Shadow that helps us to avoid what we have disowned. However, we don’t only project the deeper and darker aspects of ourselves onto others, we also project our light and positive attributes as well. For example, a person may be attracted to another who displays fierce self-assertiveness, not realizing that this quality is what they long to reunite with inside themselves. Another common example (this time negative) is judgmentalism. How many times have you heard someone say “he/she is so judgmental!” Ironically, the very person saying this doesn’t realize that calling another person ‘judgmental’ is actually pronouncing a judgment against them and revealing their own judgmental nature.

The Mirror Technique is the process of uncovering our projections. To practice this technique, we must adopt a mindful and honest approach towards the world: we need to be prepared to own that which we have disowned! Being radically truthful with ourselves can be difficult, so it does require practice. But essentially, we must adopt the mindset that other people are our mirrors. We must understand that those around us serve as the perfect canvas onto which we project all of our unconscious desires and fears.

Start this practice by examining your thoughts and feelings about those you come in contact with. Pay attention to moments when you’re emotionally triggered and ask yourself “am I projecting anything?” Remember: it is also possible to project our own qualities onto another person who really does possess the qualities. Psychologists sometimes refer to this as “projecting onto reality.” For example, we might project our rage onto another person who is, in fact, a rage-filled person. Or we might project our jealousy onto another who genuinely is jealous.

Ask yourself, “What is mine, what is theirs, and what is both of ours?” Not every triggering situation reveals a projection, but they more than often do. Also, look for things you love and adore about others, and uncover the hidden projections there.

The Mirror Technique will help you to shed a lot of light onto Shadow qualities that you have rejected, suppressed, repressed, or disowned. On a side note, you might also like to read about a similar practice called mirror work which helps you to come face-to-face with your own denied aspects.

XII. Shadow Work Q&A

Here are some commonly asked questions about shadow work:

What is shadow work?

Shadow work is the psychological and spiritual practice of exploring our dark side or the ‘shadowy’ part of our nature. We all possess a place within us that contains our secrets, repressed feelings, shameful memories, impulses, and parts that are deemed “unacceptable” and “ugly.” This is our dark side or shadow self – and it is often symbolized as a monster, devil, or ferocious wild animal.

How to do shadow work?

There are many ways to practice shadow work. Some of the most powerful and effective techniques include journaling, artistically expressing your dark side (also known as art therapy), using a mirror to connect with this part of you (mirror work), guided meditations, exploring your projections, and examining your shadow archetypes.

What is the spiritual shadow?

There is light and darkness within all areas of life, and spirituality is not exempt. The spiritual shadow is what occurs when we fall into the traps of spiritual materialism – a phenomenon where we use spirituality to boost our egos and become arrogant, self-absorbed, and even narcissistic.

XIII. Shadow Self -Test

https://lonerwolf.com/shadow-self-test/

As passionate proponents of Shadow Work, we have created a free Shadow Self test on this website for you to take. Like any test, take it with a grain of salt and use your own analysis to ultimately determine how ‘dominant’ your Shadow is in your life. Please remember that tests online cannot be 100% accurate, so see it as a fun self-discovery tool. And note: those who receive a “small Shadow Self” answer still need to do Shadow Work. No person is exempt. ;)

XIV. Own Your Shadow and You Will Own Your Life

If you are looking for some serious, authentic and long-lived healing in your life, Shadow Work is the perfect way to experience profound inner transformation. Remember that what you internalize is almost always externalized in one form or another.

Own your shadow and you will own your life.

Here are some final inspiring words:

“The secret is out: all of us, no exceptions, have qualities we won’t let anyone see, including ourselves – our Shadow. If we face up to our dark side, our life can be energized. If not, there is the devil to pay. This is one of life’s most urgent projects. — Larry Dossey (Healing Words)”

“If we don’t change, we don’t grow. If we don’t grow, we are not really living. Growth demands a temporary surrender of security.” — Gail Sheehy

“Who has not at one time or another felt a sourness, wrath, selfishness, envy and pride, which he could not tell what to do with, or how to bear, rising up in him without his consent, casting a blackness over all his thoughts … It is exceeding good and beneficial to us to discover this dark, disordered fire of our soul; because when rightly known and rightly dealt with, it can as well be made the foundation of heaven as it is of hell. — William Law”

“To confront a person with his own shadow is to show him his own light. — Carl Jung”

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hallowxiu · 4 years

Text

Whatever It Takes to Keep You Safe

pairing: lucifer/gn!mc

word count: 1.5k

summary: You feel so dissociated from it; as if you were simply watching someone else’s end. You will not last the night. Or What if Simeon didn’t get to you and Lucifer in time?

a/n: a lot of things i gotta mention. 1) SPOILERS for lesson 38 and onward, so don’t read this if you don’t want some of the plot spoiled for you. 2) MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH. there are also mentions of blood, death (obviously) and injury due to stabbing.

You always had the best intentions, but you can’t save everyone and you knew that. In fact, you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t know you’d eventually be put in this situation. Your unwavering loyalty has cost you to lose yourself time and time again, but maybe this time you’ve truly crossed a line that cannot be uncrossed. The taste of copper in your mouth is an ever-so-present reminder of that.

Lucifer never wanted to get close to you and this was something you knew from the start. His pride would never let him admit it, but he cared for you deeply, more so than he’s cared for anything else. Still, over time you managed to break and tear his walls down, seeing glimpses of Lucifer that others couldn’t even begin to imagine. You enjoyed his company and you knew he enjoyed yours equally, if not more. You knew that scared him.

Do you think he’ll forgive you for this? Will he think of you fondly in the future, or will you have left a bitter taste in his mouth? The thought makes your heart ache.

You feel your body being propped up, strong arms secured around you tightly. You felt safe, despite the fact that you were oozing blood from your chest. It was warm, just like him. You hear Lucifer call your name with a broken voice, a look of pure disbelief and grief plastered across his face. You felt awful that you were the cause of it, but you knew you had done the right thing, or at least that’s what you chose to believe. “Why did you do this? Why didn’t you kill me instead?” You can see the slight tremble of his lips and the barely concealed tears that are beginning to well in his eyes. Maybe the reality of the situation finally sank in. “You heard what Solomon said earlier. You just needed to kill me to restore the power of the Night Dagger; you didn’t need to stab yourself.”

“Just? You make it sound as if it’s the easiest thing in the world to kill you.” Your voice was a lot fainter than you thought it would be. “I would rather die than kill you with my own hands. Either way I would end up dying.” Your words didn’t comfort him but they weren’t meant to. You were only telling the truth, whether that’s what he wanted to hear or not. “I know you’re suffering from amnesia, but did you really think I would be able to kill you? There is not a thing in this world that could convince me that killing you is the right way. Not a single thing.”

You felt something warm and wet drop onto your cheek, and suddenly you felt more drops of water landing on your cheek. “Lucifer…” You reached a hand up and cupped his cheek, your thumb caressing the smooth skin. What was there left to say? Nothing you could say would make the situation better and you both knew that. His tears stream down his cheeks as he’s hit with the realization that you were dying, and that nothing he could do would stop this. He knew that as a human you would die before him, but he never thought he would be facing it so suddenly. Not like this. He wanted to see you die of old age in your sleep, a peaceful death that you deserved. If anyone deserved a nice death, it was you.

“I don’t-- I don’t know what to do.” This was the first time you had seen Lucifer look so beside himself, so lost as if he were a child looking for an adult to help. This wasn’t the normal Lucifer you knew, but then again, this wasn’t a normal situation that you knew either. You died once already, though you were brought back and it was significantly more complicated than this. Here, you stabbed yourself. That was all there was to it. You stabbed yourself so that Lucifer could live his life. It really was that simple.

“Only… only one of us needs to die in order for peace to be restored. It doesn’t have to be you. Besides, I’m just a human anyway. What is so special about me that I should outlive the great and mighty Lucifer?” It was becoming increasingly difficult to speak and you could feel your vision beginning to blur. You felt both as light as a feather and as heavy as a brick at the same time. It was hard to explain; you yourself didn’t even fully understand it. But does anyone truly understand the concept of dying? When you’re actively dying? It’s too much for the brain to process. “I think most will agree with me that it should be me and not you.”

“Don’t say that.” You could tell he wanted to be angry with you, to scream at you at the top of his lungs for putting yourself in this situation, for putting him in this situation, and yet-- and yet he just couldn’t. He couldn’t bring himself to hate you or blame you. He was just hurt. “This wasn’t how this was supposed to go.”

“I know.” Is all you offer the grieving demon. The eldest brings you closer to him, embracing you in his arms as your head rests against his chest. Death didn’t seem as scary as you once thought. If death meant staying in the embrace of Lucifer, then it couldn’t be all that bad, right? “Promise me you won’t… that you won’t blame yourself for this. No one… could have seen this coming.” You were running out of time.

“Why not just kill me?” His voice was desperate, his eyes wide as you watched him try to process the situation.

“I always want you safe. I would have done the same for any of your brothers.” You couldn’t waste your breath on speaking any longer, it was taking more out of you than you thought it would. Oh, how you took for granted all the times you were able to speak without feeling so winded. To fully express how you felt without your own body getting in the way of that, acting as a physical barrier.

You feel Lucifer’s grip around you tighten, the demon pressing you closer to his body to convince himself that you’re still there. “I can’t live a world without you.” His voice was so broken and it destroyed you. “I don’t want to; I can’t.”

Your time was coming to an end and fast. You thought you were okay with this, but now you were finding that you didn’t have enough time. “I love you, Lucifer.” You needed him to know. You’ve said it to him hundreds of times, but you needed him to know it at this moment. “I love you so fucking much.” Your own vision is filled with tears and you rapidly blink them away, instead wanting to focus on the demon’s face. You wanted his face to be the last thing you saw.

“Don’t say that. You aren’t leaving.” You both knew he was in denial as he tugged you closer, his body shaking as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. “You’re not leaving me.” You smile to yourself as you let the sobbing man hold you, his cries filling up the room and no doubt reaching the ears of his brothers. You were sure there would be complete and utter chaos within the next several minutes, but you knew you wouldn’t be there to see it.

You would miss all the small things about Lucifer, the way his eyebrows would furrow as he filled out his paperwork, or the way he would smile as he texted Mammon when thinking no one was looking. You would miss the fond look in his eyes when bragging about his brothers to Lord Diavolo, and you would miss the way how he always knew exactly what to say when to comfort you. You wish you could do the same for him now. This would just have to be good enough; it had to, this was all you had to offer.

“I love you.” Lucifer cries into your neck. “I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you.” He knows he’s chanting those words to an empty room. The demon knew the exact moment your heart gave its final beat, the exact moment you drew your last breath. He felt the difference in your body weight, the moment you became heavier to hold and colder to the touch. He knew it, but he chose to ignore it. For now, just for now, he would pretend that everything was okay, that you were only lying asleep in his arms.

You gave and gave all your love, but in the end it was never enough to protect those you love, let alone yourself. Sometimes, that’s just how it has to be.

#drabbles #lucifer x mc #obey me shall we date #obey me #shall we date #lucifer one shot #obey me one shot #obey me shall we date one shot #obey me angst #lucifer angst #obey me shall we date angst #lucifer x reader #lucifer x main character #obey me shall we date x reader #obey me x reader #obey me x mc #angst #one shot

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alj4890 · 3 years

Text

Angst Prompt

Requested follow-up to One Fateful Night

Part 2: The Dark Before the Dawn

A\N Sorry again for One Fateful Night’s angst. This picks up right after and goes a little into the future for Liam and those that survived the earthquake. It gets pretty dark in places and is long, but I think it ends on a hopeful note.

@gkittylove99 @darley1101 @krsnlove @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30 @yourmajesty09 @mom2000aggie @ofpixelsandscribbles @twinkleallnight @lodberg @sweatyrysconnoisseur @motorcitymademadame

Masterlist

The rest of the unity tour was canceled. Unable to speak his reasons why he couldn't do it, Liam left that in the hands of his father and Regina. He didn't want to face the people without Riley by his side, without Drake standing steadfast, without Maxwell's unfailing optimism, without Hana's gentle support.

He had simply lost the will to fight.

Olivia had returned with him to the palace. Neville soon followed, insisting that he would do whatever Liam needed him to. Kiara, devastated by Penelope's death had retreated back to her family estate. Rashad was sent to Domvallier to recover from his injuries. Bastien refused to take time off and was doing his duties from a wheelchair.

Liam ignored all of it. He went to his chambers and remained secluded from the world for days. He refused entry to anyone who knocked. He simply sat there staring at the few mementos he had of those he had lost.

He flipped through the photographs Maxwell had insisted on taking of the three of them through the years. He paused at the few his mother was in, wishing she was here now to tell him how to move on from something like this. She had encouraged his friendships with Maxwell and Drake, knowing he would need them to face life in the public eye.

And now he would never have them again.

Setting the old album aside, he reached for the key chain Riley had given him the night of the Coronation. Thinking of that night and their confessions of love only to be so cruelly parted...his head dropped as he carefully set it back on the table. Next he picked up the pearl he had given her. The plans and hopes they had while meeting in secret. It had helped him through every moment he was kept from her side.

He then lifted the photograph Anna had taken of them for their engagement. Liam's fingers trembled as they brushed against the image of Riley. Her smile so warm. Her eyes so filled with joy.

Reaching for a decanter, he attempted to metaphorically drown his sorrows. In one night he had lost everything he had held dear. How was he to go on from this? There was no enemy to slay, no way to find those he loved and rescue them. Nothing. Nothing except funerals to attend. Nothing but giving them to the cold, unforgiving dirt.

All he had ahead of him was visits to graveyards. He knew his father didn't have much longer to live. It would be just one more loss in his already devastated heart.

Death was what his life had become. He had feared that when his mother was poisoned. Many a night he would wake up crying at the thought of being completely and utterly alone. This long forgotten fear rose up within him, showing that it hadn't been a nightmare. It had been a premonition.

Dropping his head in his hands, he sobbed into the void that had become his only companion.

*****************

Armed with a key, Olivia forced her way into Liam's room. With the first of the many funerals coming up, she knew she needed to get him prepared. The public would be looking toward their king, needing to see him standing against the worst life could throw at him.

Her steps faltered when she saw him. He was slumped over in a chair. Empty decanters sat in front of him, a few tipped over on the table with drops of whiskey spilled out.

The tumbler he had been using had fallen to the floor. The remnants of his drink had stained the Persian rug. His clothes were rumpled. Nearly a week's growth of beard had darkened his sunken cheeks. Dark circles under his eyes completed the look of a man trying to escape his tormented thoughts.

Olivia had to harden her heart. There had always been something about Liam that brought out an unusual softness in her. But that was not what he needed. He needed order. A purpose. Something to get him to step back out in the world.

Grabbing his shoulder she shook him hard.

"Liam!" She snapped in a louder than usual tone. "Wake up!"

He opened his bloodshot eyes with a slight groan. He weakly raised a hand to his head while trying to escape her unyielding grip.

"Get ready." She ordered. "We've got things to do."

"What things?" His hoarse voice cracked.

She ignored his question.

He forced himself to focus on her bustling about gathering his clothes before going into his bathroom. He could hear her starting a shower.

She returned with a determined set to her chin. "Hurry up." She pulled him out of his chair. "We don't have all day."

He stumbled forward, catching himself against a dresser.

Olivia bit her lip as she watched him painstakingly retreat into the bathroom.

Taking a deep breath, she bent to the task of straightening his room. Her gaze fell on the objects he had been using for his only source of company. Tears sparked her eyes when she noticed the photographs.

It wasn't fair. Liam might think he was the only one to suffer with his losses, but she was just as deeply affected. They had been her friends too. A family of sorts, one of her choosing after losing her own at such a young age. She couldn't help but depend on them. Maxwell had been the chipper, up for anything brother she wouldn't have thought she needed. Drake had been her sparring partner, always keeping her wit sharp for any upcoming altercation. Riley...

How had the one she never could quite see completely as her enemy become an actual friend? She had won Liam from Olivia, and yet...and yet Olivia had been grateful. If there was anyone in this world who saw and loved Liam like she herself had, then it was Riley.

And how could she not care for someone who did as Liam deserved?

It was all for nothing. Olivia was left alone once more. Perhaps even more so than when her parents had died. At least then she had been able to lean on Liam. Now he could barely function. It was now her turn to be the one he could depend on in their friendship.

He stepped out, pulling her from her thoughts. He stood there as if at a loss of what to do, whether he should even bother putting forth an effort.

Olivia brought him a jacket and held it for him to slip on.

"We'll eat on the road." She told him, giving him a push out the door.

"Where are we going?" He asked.

"A few places." She told him. She glanced back behind her where Regina had remained out of sight. The worry on the Queen Mother's face eased some at seeing Liam out of his room. She nodded gratefully to Olivia before retreating in the shadows to report this small success to Constantine.

****************

Liam stared out the window as Olivia drove him through the capital. He ignored the people going about their day as if the world had not stopped. He didn't bother to focus as he used to on the state of the roads or on some of the older, historical buildings.

He simply didn't care. He figured it was only a matter of time before these things were taken from him too. The terrorists were probably lying in wait for when they could destroy the last of what had once meant something to him.

"I don't suppose you've spoken to anyone at the hospital." Olivia said, cutting through the oppressive silence.

Liam merely shook his head.

She waited in the hopes he would ask about Hana and Madeleine. She needed to see that the old, kind to a fault Liam was still there, only buried amongst his immense sorrow.

The silence stretched once more between them.

"I have." She said, fighting against tears of frustration.

He didn't move. He simply stared out the passenger window.

Her grip on the steering wheel tightened. "Madeleine's recovery is slow yet steady. The doctors believe though that her fair skin will always be marked with scars."

Liam didn't even blink.

Olivia grit her teeth. "Hana though has not been having an easy time."

Liam stiffened somewhat at that.

Olivia pressed on. She was determined to get him talking. Hopefully once he started he could get rid of the despair that was destroying him.

"Her parents want to take her home to Singapore but the doctors don't believe she is strong enough yet." She swallowed down her own lump of emotion. "When she was told of...of..."

Liam finally face forward. "Told of everyone dying on us? Told that I had failed in saving anyone?" His bitterness slashed across Olivia's stuttered denial at that last one. "Told that her life would never be the same again?"

"Liam, you--"

"I don't want to hear it." He responded.

"You must!" She yelled, hitting her steering wheel in her anger.

Liam didn't flinch. He didn't act like he had even heard her.

"Hana needs you! Madeleine does too." She turned into the hospital parking lot. "We all need you to--"

"To what?" He roared. "Give more empty promises that we will get through this? That we will find our way back?" He jerked his seatbelt off. "I respect them too much to lie to them. The last thing they need is a broken man trying to rally their spirits." He opened the door. "Find someone else, Olivia. I'm not the man they need."

"You are!" She scrambled out, tears falling down her cheeks unheeded. "Liam, we all need you right now. Friday is the first set of funerals. We need you there to help us say goodbye."

Liam walked off without a word.

"Liam, please!" She pleaded, chasing after him. "Even if you can't speak during the service, let those of us who love you help you."

He paused before gently pulling his arm out of her grip. "I'm sorry, but I can't do what you ask of me." His bright blue eyes were filled with tears as he raised them to hers. "I'm done, Olivia."

"Liam, you're allowed to grieve." She reached for his hands. "Take as long as you need. But your friends and country need to grieve with you."

"They won't after I inform them of my decision." He took a deep breath. "I'm giving it up."

"Giving what up?" She asked.

"Everything. The crown. The throne." He looked about. "I'm leaving this country and moving somewhere that isn't filled with memories."

"You can't!" Olivia grabbed the lapels of his jacket, shaking him in desperation. "You can't let the terrorists win! We--"

"Why not?" He bit out. "They might be the right rulers for Cordonia. My legacy has been nothing but death. My brother gave it all up because the pressures were slowly killing him. My mother died trying to do what was right. My father gave up the crown because he is dying. I've done nothing but bring death and destruction to those I love the most." He gripped her wrists and wrenched them from his jacket. "I can't do it anymore."

"Yes, you can." She followed him when he walked off again. "Just try a little longer."

He laughed bitterly. "Try? Why? My reign is already marked with uncertainty. I'm a king without a queen or heir." He released a deep frustrated breath. "What's the point, Liv? Every time I try, I get knocked down. Losing...losing Riley, Drake, and Maxwell..." He shook his head. “It is too much.”

"Promise me you won't decide anything today." Olivia pleaded. "Please?"

He ran his hands over his face. He looked up as if for divine intervention before nodding. "I won't hold the press conference today."

"Good." She relaxed some. She knew now that she would have to fight him these next few weeks over his decision. The last thing she wanted to see was his giving up on his destiny in the midst of his grief.

Slipping her arm into the bend of his she tugged him toward the hospital.

*******************

"Come in." Hana called out.

She didn't want anymore visits from her parents but couldn't bring herself to tell them. Hearing that her marriage prospects were now completely gone due to her injury had done nothing but bring her further into depression. Did they not see that what she had lost was so much worse than the lower half of her left leg?

Her dearest friends, her best friends, those that knew her better than anyone on earth were gone.

And I didn't get to say goodbye. I didn't get a chance to save them. Nothing.

Olivia smiled softly at Hana. "I brought a surprise."

Hana sat up straighter when she saw Liam sheepishly appear.

A sob burst from her lips as she reached for him to hug.

Liam's Adam's apple bounced a few times as he struggled to swallow his sorrow. He couldn't ignore her need for comfort and hurried over to hug her. Olivia quietly stepped out so they could grieve in privacy.

"Oh Liam!" Hana cried against his shoulder. "I'm so sorry." She clutched the material of his leather jacket, wishing they would all wake up and realize this was nothing but a dream.

"I'm sorry." He choked out. "I couldn't save them." His tears began to fall freely. "I failed them, Hana. I failed you. I failed everyone!"

She pulled back and gently cupped his face. Blinking through her tears she shook her head. "You didn't fail any of us, Liam. You saved me and Madeleine. Bastien. Rashad and--"

He clung to her. "What am I to do now? Hana, you know I can't face life without Riley. How can I go on after this?"

"I don't know." Hana hugged him again. "But you know Riley wouldn't want us giving up on life." She glanced down at her legs under the blankets. "No matter how hard it is, she would encourage us to keep fighting."

"Hana, Riley was my life. My heart." He lowered his head into his hands. "She was my strength to keep moving forward no matter what was thrown at us."

Hana reached from some tissues, sharing a few with him. "I know. She gave me the bravery I needed to tell my parents that I was more than a marriage prospect for some noble. Now..." Her breath hitched. "Now I don't know what I am or what to do."

Liam moved off her bed and collapsed in one of the chairs by her bed. "What are we going to do?"

Her hand found his. "We help each other. Isn't that what we would hope Riley, Maxwell, and Drake would do if they had lived and you and I had died?"

He wished that had been the case. Not Hana, but that he had been the one Death had come for. He would gladly switch places with them, anything to escape this unending ache in his heart.

He felt Hana's hand squeeze his.

He looked up and saw her trying to be brave for his sake.

Liam didn't know if he could. "I've been thinking of abdicating."

Her lips parted in shock. "Abdicating!"

"Everywhere I turn there is a memory of them." He explained. "I..." He gave up speaking.

"They wouldn't want you doing that, Liam." She reminded him.

He knew she was right, but he couldn't think of moving on as if his very heart had not been ripped from his chest.

"They say when a person loses a loved one that they should wait a year before making a big decision." Hana said, lacing her fingers with his. "Maybe that is what we both should do. My parents want me to go back to Singapore, and I've been tempted to so I won't be reminded of everything."

Liam slowly nodded. "I wouldn't blame you if you did move back home."

"I think what I need is to be with you. Olivia. Madeleine. All of those we still have." She tried to explain. "I need those memories, no matter how much they hurt, to help me heal."

Seeing that he didn't know how to take her advice she gently squeezed his hand again. "Why don't we wait on any decision and just try to get through these next few days."

He eyed her suspiciously. "Did Olivia tell you to say something like that?"

Hana felt her first laugh in over a week burst out. It sounded hollow, as if her body had forgotten how to make the joyful sound. "She might intimidate me at times, but no, she didn't put me up to this."

His lips curved somewhat before settling once more into a thin line. He knew from her words and Olivia's that no one would accept his abdication.

*****************

Madeleine did her best to look presentable. She picked up the small mirror she had insisted be left on the small bedside table. Her eyes touched on the angry, red scars gracing her face and head. Her arm and legs bore others that were long and jagged.

Taking a deep breath, she fluffed the hair that had not been lost in the deep gashes to her scalp. Refusing to give in to the need to cry over something she had no control over, she smoothed her covers and waited to greet her king.

Olivia had shared with her what he wanted to do. Madeleine knew what the fiery duchess wanted her to say and act when she saw him. But she thought she knew how best to respond.

With plan in place, she looked up when she heard a knock to her door.

Liam came in at her bidding him to do so.

He didn't pause in his walk to her bedside like so many did when they first saw the extent of her injuries. She felt her proud façade crack at that. Only Liam would be kind enough to pretend there was nothing unusual about her current hideous state.

Her own parents had handled it horribly. Her mother had been unable to look directly at her without bursting into tears. Her father had bemoaned the fact that she hadn't been able to trap either prince or any other well standing noble before her looks were destroyed.

Just what any young woman needed to hear when awakening from a near death experience.

Liam bowed over her hand while placing a kiss upon her scarred knuckles. "My lady, forgive me for not checking on you sooner."

Madeleine swallowed before asking him to sit. "How have you been?"

His red eyes lifted to hers. "How do you think I've been? I've lost three people I loved. The country lost them along with Penelope and her family. Portivira is destroyed. The Sons of the Earth burned the royal orchard." He slumped in his seat. "I've lost everything, Madeleine."

"Not everything." She corrected. "I know I'm not Riley or Drake or Maxwell." She grimaced at trying to find the right words. "But I am here for you in whatever capacity you need."

"Thank you." He replied automatically. "Your dedication to Cordonia is to be commended."

"It's not--what I meant--" Madeleine closed her eyes briefly when tears pricked her eyes. "Liam, I meant I will be there for you. As a friend." Her nose wrinkled. "As odd as that sounds, I am sincere."

He nodded once more. "Thank you."

They both sat there lost in thought.

"Do you," he cleared his throat, "do you think I should abdicate?"

Madeleine's eyes narrowed in thought. She knew her next words could possibly be the most important of her life.

"Have you done something that could or has harmed Cordonia?"

His eyes widened some. "No."

"Do you no longer care for our people?" She asked.

"No, of course not." He muttered.

"Do you not wish to help them?"

"It isn't anything like that."

"So, your reason is something more selfish." Her green eyes hardened when they met his. "Like Leo, you decide to walk away when ruling becomes too much work."

Liam got to his feet. "It isn't like Leo's reasons! I lost the woman I was to marry. My best friends! Everywhere I turn I am haunted by what was and what could have been. How can I possibly fight Cordonia's enemies when I've lost my sources of strength?"

Madeleine sniffed dismissively. "Every person has lost someone that was their support. If everyone gave up when that happens then this world would crumble to dust."

Liam took a step back from her cold tone. "Madeleine, don't you--"

"Don't I what? Miss any of them? Are saddened by their deaths?" She allowed her sorrow to show. "Of course I do. I might not have been thrilled to be tossed over for Riley, but I would have had to be a blind fool to not notice what she did for you and Cordonia. The same for Maxwell and Drake."

Liam sat back down. "Then what do you think I should do?" He looked down while his bottom lip trembled. "Riley made me a better king."

"Then by all means think of her when you must make a decision." Madeleine told him. "Liam, for whatever reason, fate has placed you as King of Cordonia. You." She stressed. "We've all known you were the better ruler when Leo was our crown prince. It is a great burden, but one that you've never hesitated to carry."

He ran a hand over his eyes. "I wanted to do what I could for the country."

Her lips eased into an approving smile. "As all rulers should be." Reaching over, she patted his shoulder. "I know it won't be easy, but I can't think of anyone better to guide us into the future."

"I feel so lost." He admitted to her. "How can I guide anyone when I no longer have the ones who were my own compass?"

"You'll find a way." She said with certainty. "It may take time, but you will."

He sighed before running his hands through his hair. "I'm so sorry, Madeleine."

"For what?" She asked. "The earthquake was something no one could stop."

"I know." He stood up. "But I'm still sorry."

She nodded in acceptance.

Liam kissed her hand once more and promised to do better checking on her and Hana as he left her room.

Madeleine slumped back against her pillows when her door clicked shut. Tears trickled down her cheeks as she hoped she had somehow said the right thing to him.

Turning to bury her face in her pillows, she allowed the tears to be for herself, Liam, and those they had lost.

******************

That afternoon, Liam departed from Olivia and insisted taking a walk by himself. He went to the private beach and slipped out of his shoes and socks. Rolling up the cuffs of his pants, he began to walk slowly along the shore, allowing the waves to roll over his feet.

He flipped his collar up when the early fall breeze blew by, hinting at an incoming cold spell. He thought it served his mood perfectly. The summer that had once been his world had ended, bringing the cold cruel reality to crash down upon him.

His happily ever after had truly been a dream not meant for the real world. He should have known that he couldn't bring a fairy tale to life. It couldn't survive the cruelness of fate.

He continued his stroll while thinking of his visits with Olivia, Hana, and Madeleine. His conversations with them had only paused his decision. Even if he were to wait as long as Hana suggested before abdicating, what good would it do? He would still be unable to regain what he had lost.

"Liam?"

He paused and turned to see his father walking towards him.

"May I join you?" Constantine asked.

Liam gave a brisk nod before focusing once more on the waves lapping at his feet.

They walked on in silence for a spell. Constantine glanced every so often at Liam’s face, searching for any word that could possibly help his son.

"Who is next in line to the throne?"

Constantine stopped in his tracks. "Who is next in line?" His eyes narrowed in concern. "Why do you ask?"

Liam shrugged. "Shouldn't an unmarried, childless ruler know these things?"

"Son, you have your whole life stretched before you. Give yourself time to grieve and heal. Then--"

"My enemies are at the door." Liam snapped. "Even if I somehow survive them and whatever next hell Cordonia thrusts me into, I will still be without a wife or heir."

Constantine gestured weakly toward a set of lounging chairs. "Sit with me for a moment."

Liam's brief burst of anger turned to resignation when he noticed his father's trembles. Placing an arm around him, he helped ease Constantine down.

Liam took the chair next to his and focused on the ocean. He wondered how he could still find such beauty in it when it had been the final place Riley and Drake had lived.

"I'm going to abdicate, Father." He stated.

Liam was surprised by the silence that followed his declaration. He expected his father to be pleading with him to reconsider or furious for even thinking it.

Instead, he found his father looking more sympathetic than he had ever appeared before.

"I made the same decision when your mother was taken from me." Constantine admitted softly.

Liam's eyes widened. "You did?"

"Yes." He cleared his throat. "Your mother was everything to me." His gaze became distant as he was once again in the past. "She was life itself, my strength." His lips curved into a bitter smile. "She never held back her thoughts and opinions on how we should rule." He met Liam's eyes. "I loved her with my entire heart."

Liam ran his hands down his face. "What," his voice was raspy, "what made you decide to remain king?"

"I'm afraid it wasn't one out of duty or believing anyone needed me." Constantine admitted. "My reasons were purely selfish. I knew the only way to find the ones who took my Eleanor from me was to be in absolute power." His hand balled into a fist at the memories. "For years, vengeance kept me focused on my kingly duties."

"When did it change?" Liam asked.

"It was actually you that opened my eyes."

"Me?" Liam's brow furrowed. "What did I do?"

"You were ten years old." Constantine's lips curved into a tender, proud smile. "Leo was his usual, rebellious self. He had just turned sixteen and was supposed to attend his first official ball. He was trying to get out of it when he found out he would be obligated to dance with every visiting nobles’ daughter, regardless of how attractive they were."

Liam's eyes narrowed as he tried to recall that night.

"As I was walking past the ballroom, I heard your gentle, yet firm correction to his behavior. You were reminding him what a good prince was supposed to do. Be there for his subjects. Kind. Understanding. Sacrificial." He chuckled again. "It was just the slap to the face I needed."

Liam slumped back in his chair. "That ideal is meaningless."

Constantine slowly nodded. "If I had heard it after your mother died, I would have dismissed it too." He reached over and placed his hand on top of his son's. "Time doesn't necessarily heal all wounds, but it does help in how we view them." He swallowed. "There were years where the very thought of your mother brought me to my knees. Her loss was like a festering wound that never eased."

Liam knew that feeling all too well.

"But now, though I miss her just as much as I did before; my memories of her bring me comfort." He squeezed Liam's hand. "They make me grateful for every single second I was allowed with her."

Liam blew out a shaky breath. "Well, unfortunately I can't find and fight the earthquake that took Riley. I don't see the point in being king for revenge."

"True." Constantine nodded. "But Riley, Drake, and Maxwell believed in you. They went on the unity tour for you, for your reign to be successful. Not for themselves. Not for Cordonia. All because they thought you and you alone were worthy to be king."

Liam swallowed a few times as stray tears fell from his blue eyes. "I don't deserve it. I didn't deserve their faith or..." He huffed while wiping his eyes. "I'm not worth it."

"They would say you are." Constantine swung his legs to the side and pushed himself up. "You remaining king is a way to honor them and their efforts to help you be the best one you can be."

Liam pressed his palms to his eyes as a sob tore through him. When he felt his father's arms come around him, he buried his head against his shoulder while shaking with his cries.

Constantine gently rubbed his back while promising he was there for him. That he wouldn't have to go through this alone, that he had him, Regina, and those of his friends that had survived.

Liam clung to him, unable to speak.

Father and son clung to each other as the sun set.

********************

The next few weeks had Liam attending and speaking at the funerals of those that were no longer with them. He didn't bother to try and mask his heartache in front of his people. The nation was touched by his honesty and mourned with their young king.

Constantine and Regina remained by his side. Olivia and Neville traveled with him to each graveyard. Hana and Madeleine were allowed to attend some of the funerals. Rashad stuck by their sides, even helping to push Hana's wheelchair.

Seeing them each time he took the podium reminded him of why he was doing this. His father's words about honoring his beloved and best friends gave him the strength to speak of the type of people they had been.

He didn't know how he got through those first few weeks. Though it took a great effort, he forced himself to get back to his duties. Routine helped him remain focused on what he needed to do and gave him opportunities to continue to grieve.

The rest of the unity tour was canceled. Liam instead spent his efforts in rebuilding Portivira and in replanting the apple orchard. Out of respect and because he couldn't stand the thought of a ball without Riley, he canceled the rest of the year's planned balls and palace events.

With little chance to catch the king in a position that would bring about his downfall, the Sons of the Earth were soon desperate and making foolish decisions to attack during the daylight. Many were rounded up by Bastien's elite task force. Anton was found holed up in a long forgotten Nevarkis stronghold and died in a shootout with the king's guards.

After months of turmoil and uncertainty, Cordonia was once again in a state of peace.

Constantine lived long enough to see it come about. With his sons and wife at his bedside, he quietly passed away after telling them each how much he loved them.

Liam kept working. After two years, he hosted his first ball, an engagement one for Rashad and Hana. He had smiled and gave a sweet toast to the couple, all while remembering his own happiness he had once had with Riley.

As the years went by, he was able to think back on Riley, Drake, and Maxwell with a soft smile on his face.

Then the fifth year as king, he was approached by Madeleine.

"Liam, I think it's time for you to host another social season with potential suitors."

A denial rose to his lips.

She held up her hand to silence it. "I know, but you need an heir."

"There is already an heir. The throne goes to Olivia if I die."

"Liam." She huffed. "The crown needs to be stable. The people want to see you happy with a family." She shrugged her shoulders. "Cordonians are a sentimental bunch."

A family. That had been his heartfelt wish for years. Could he do that? Have one without his Riley?

"I will think about it." He conceded.

Madeleine smiled at him. "Good." She curtsied and left him alone.

Liam rocked back in his desk chair. He lifted his eyes to the ceiling.

"My love," he whispered. "What should I do? You were the only one I could ever picture myself marrying. Mother to my children." His brow creased. "Am I ready to try to find something that can’t possibly compare to what I had with you?"

He closed his eyes, wishing he could find the answer.

"Liam, dear?"

He opened his eyes and looked up at Regina.

She smiled warmly at him. "You fell asleep. Dinner is ready."

He apologized and rose to follow her out.

He halted mid step as the afternoon sun glinted on Regina's silver hair. The answer he needed was right there. He looked back up to the heavens.

His lips curved softly. "I understand. Though no one can ever compare to you, perhaps I can have the kind of luck my father had."

#king liam #liam x riley #olivia nevarkis #choices the royal romance #trr madeleine #trr hana #hana lee #angst prompt #request

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