#I just feel so guilty I can’t believe how much I consume when others (CHILDREN) can not

[ibtisams]

I feel increasingly sick seeing the photos of children in Gaza and knowing they have not had real food in over 190 days. I want to do a hunger strike out of solidarity but logistically there is no reason for me to

#I have seen a girl on tik tok only eat food that would be available to those in Gaza and that is a good idea too #I just feel so guilty I can’t believe how much I consume when others (CHILDREN) can not #I’m going to figure something out to make a “hunger strike” something feasible and with a propose for me #🦢

[meyhew]

so i’ve seen far too many comments since s&b came out that are comparing kaz to the darkling. things like, “how come kaz gets to be a hero loved by everyone who hates the darkling when they’re both morally grey murderers?” and frankly i’m sick of every variation of the sentiment.

even though they never meet in the books and their stories have nothing to do with each other, kaz and darkles are foils of one another. just so what i’m saying doesn’t get misconstrued at any point in this point, a foil is “a character who contrasts with the protagonist, in order to better highlight or differentiate certain qualities of the protagonist.”

what we know about the darkling: he dabbles in merzost and the end result is the fold. centuries pass and he doesn’t figure out a way to get rid of it (because he can’t). alina comes along and instead of actually eliminating the fold like he says he will, darkles exploits alina's powers to push boundaries of the fold and sacrifices thousands of lives in order to expand his own power. he quite literally enslaves her for months and puts her through so much psychological abuse—and that’s excluding the torture and deaths of her loved ones. darkles’ ultimate goal is power power and more power. nothing else. he starts by wanting safety for the grisha but delving deeper and deeper into merzost corrupts him from the inside out. by the time we meet him, grisha safety is no longer his main concern; if it was, he wouldn’t have served genya to the king. individual grisha lives are disposable to him. alina is disposable to him, bar her sun summoning powers.

what we know about kaz: he comes to ketterdam with his brother jordie after the death of his parents and, long story short, jordie dies because some rich merchant (pekka) cons them and they’re too young to see it coming. kaz has to use his brother’s corpse as a raft to survive swimming to shore, lest he die too. this all happens when kaz is nine years old. he then becomes consumed with avenging jordie and destroying pekka brick by brick. everything he does somehow serves the purpose of ruining pekka in the long run—or he tells himself. kaz rietveld becomes kaz brekker. kaz brekker is cold and cunning and ruthless and he’ll do the despicable things no one else will but he still has an undercurrent of humanity, which leads me to my point:

out of the two of them, kaz is the only one who is morally grey. darkles is straight up black. there is no actual moral complexity because he feels no guilt or remorse about any of his actions.

in rule of wolves, beloved alina makes an appearance and says to the darkling, “Tell me you regret some of it. Any of it. It’s not too late for you.” and to that he replies: “I didn’t come here to speak lies. Do you really believe this is the life you were meant for? Powerless and pathetic? Wiping the noses of children who will forget you? Telling them bedtime stories that will never come true?”

now. it’s evident how little he thinks of alina’s choices and how much he doesn’t regret his own. the choices that include: putting a collar on alina, pretending to be mal to get in alina’s bed, blinding his own mother and causing her subsequent death, torturing genya more than once, using zoya, destroying novokribirsk and who knows how many cities with the fold, leaving a demon inside nikolai. the list goes on and on and he feels remorse for none of it. and i'm not going to sit here and tell you that kaz is an ethical person who feels guilty and remorseful about the awful things he does, but kaz has an undercurrent of humanity in him. he’s a man driven by revenge, but at his very core he is still human.

in crooked kingdom inej manages to escape getting her legs smashed by telling van eck that kaz would never take her back that way. she’d be no use to him. and she fully believes that. she doesn’t say it to trick van eck; she very much believes that inej with broken legs would be a waste to kaz brekker and he’d simply get himself a new spider. because that is the reputation he has built for himself.

“He was going to break my legs,” she said, her chin held high, the barest quaver in her voice. “Would you have come for me then, Kaz? When I couldn’t scale a wall or walk a tightrope? When I wasn’t the Wraith anymore?” Dirtyhands would not. The boy who could get them through this, get their money, keep them alive, would do her the courtesy of putting her out of her misery, then cut his losses and move on. “I would come for you,” he said, and when he saw the wary look she shot him, he said it again. “I would come for you. And if I couldn’t walk, I’d crawl to you, and no matter how broken we were, we’d fight our way out together—knives drawn, pistols blazing.”

it’s not an admission of guilt or regret or remorse, i admit, so let’s look at one:

“For the briefest moment, Kaz and Van Eck sized each other up from across the bridge. Kaz couldn’t help but be reminded of when they’d faced each other this way seven days ago. He’d thought too much about that meeting. Late at night, when the day’s work was done, he’d lain awake, taking apart every moment of it. Again and again, Kaz thought of those few crucial seconds when he’d let his attention shift to Inej instead of keeping his eyes on Van Eck. It wasn’t a mistake he could afford to make again. That boy had betrayed his weakness in a single glance, had ceded the war for the sake of a single battle, and put Inej—all of them—in danger. He was a wounded animal who needed to be put down. And Kaz had done it gladly, choked the life from him without pause for regret. The Kaz that remained saw only the job: Free Inej. Make Van Eck pay. The rest was useless noise.”

he kills the part of him that put inej’s life in danger, that compromised all of their safety, and he doesn’t let himself regret that. he does regret having landed himself and others in this predicament. he does regret that inej’s life hangs in the balance because of him. because of his trauma and because of the person he has sort of been forced to become, he might not be able to articulate his guilt and regret and but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel those things. those feelings are there because, unlike darkles, kaz hasn’t been corrupted by power. kaz is greedy but not for power over other; he has a one track mind and that’s taking apart pekka’s life brick by brick. kaz is a victim of circumstance; darkles is not. kaz commits violence when he has to; darkles commits violence because, after so long of doing so, he relishes in it. i’d go so far as to say that kaz isn’t even greedy, per se. he wants money, yes, but not for the sake of having money. he wants more and more money because that means less and less money for pekka.

(this is a very good post to read re: kaz’s humanity) 

and i’ve seen the argument from occasional showl only fan that kaz is just like the darkling because he own inej (since he’s “buying” her from tante haleen). kaz pays off her indenture to haleen, he does not buy her. kaz gives her a shot at freedom—something she would not have had without him. he doesn’t make her get the crow club tattoo like everyone else because “he wouldn’t be the one to mark [her] again.” in the books, kaz sells his shares of the crow club to pekka so he can help inej. he then buys a ship for inej so she can hunt slavers. he reunites her with his parents. on the show, he essentially liquidates his assets to get inej out from under haleen’s roof. in the books and on the show, at every turn kaz gives inej a choice whenever he can.

try and line that up with darkles sparkles. he isolates alina into the little palace even if he makes it seem like a splendid place. he cuts off her communication from mal and makes her feel abandoned, giving him an easy opportunity to charm a lost girl. who wouldn’t fall for the sexy powerful man doting on you’ve lost everything else? he never gives her any options regarding what she can do with her powers. he tells her what he has to do. when she doesn’t comply, he forces her to. he puts a collar on her. he brands her as his puppet. he perverts her power with his own. he kills the only parent figure she’s ever had. time and time again, he strips alina of her agency, holds her captive, hurts the people she cares for.

to put it succinctly: darkles is the government and kaz is an anarchist. kaz is a byproduct of people like the darkling. darkles is a ruler. his responsibility is to take care of the grisha under his command. kaz is a 17 yr old kid. he has no such responsibilities. his only commitment is the vow he made to avenge his brother’s death, which happened because of a man like the darkling—hungry for more more more. in six of crows kaz says, “When everyone knows you’re a monster, you needn’t waste time doing every monstrous thing.” and like… that directly juxtaposes the darkling, who does feel compelled to do every horrific thing he can do. kaz is mostly bark with an occasional bite; darkles is a feral dog that needs to be put down. 

without using thousands of words: darkling is an ancient powerful being and kaz is a CHILD. there should be no comparison of their morals and ethics.

#kaz brekker #the darkling #shadow and bone #this got LONG so im putting her under a cut thank u for understanding and know that i am right and correct abt everything here. #six of crows #seedpost

[tenthgrove]

Can I request the one where La Squadra thought the reader was pregnant (when she just actually visited her kid) situation for Bruno's gang?

Mother Mother- Bucci Edition

Team Buccerati x Reader (Fem), Platonic, SFW

Bruno Buccerati is feeling restless. He's not one to pry, but your behaviour lately is starting to concern him. Leaving the base for hours without explanation is no cause for worry in itself, after all, you're not obliged to inform him of your whereabouts 24/7 and you're hardly the only one on the team who does this, but together with the ceaseless obsession with cutting your finances, the uncharacteristic melancholy and the jolt of panic whenever your personal circumstances become the topic of conversation all add up to a bad picture.

The final straw for Buccerati came today, in which while passing you idly on the sofa he caught sight of the word 'parenthood' printed on the title of the leaflet you were reading. He didn't see the rest of what it said, but your guilty smile at being caught spoke well enough for itself.

Buccerati truly does feel bad about this, but with how defensive you become at even the smallest sign of confrontation, he sees no other choice. As he watches you depart your bedroom and head into the bathroom, he waits quietly for the rush of water from the shower, before sneaking into your unlocked bedroom unnoticed.

He will make clear, he thinks to himself as he pilfers through the loose paper on your desk for that leaflet, that he is not angry. If it's what your heart is set on, he isn't even that opposed to the idea of you raising the baby yourself. The squad is decently paid and their work isn't as dangerous or all-consuming as some, so they can manage. He even feels a little bit of excitement at the thought of helping you with your offspring. He's only doing this because it can't be healthy for you to conceal your pregnancy like this. Children have always been such precious things to him.

A pink leaflet flits off of the desk and Buccerati picks up his prize. He reads the title in full.

"Parenthood for the Parents of Hospitalised Children: What Doctors Advise"

Ahh. Now that changes things. Buccerati feels his heart sink at the sight of the stock image of a mother and father standing over the bedside of a sickly-looking girl. He guiltily returns the leaflet to its former place and tries to reorganise the paper as he found it, before exiting quickly.

Having learned his lesson well about making assumptions on too little evidence, Buccerati sits down with his phone book. There's a fellow on one of the intel teams who owes him a small favour, and it's time he called on it.

“Hello, it’s Buccerati, could you do something for me quickly? I need you to check the records of all the hospitals in Naples that hospitalise chronically ill children, and take a look through the names of the patients in the children's ward," he requests. "There's a specific surname I'm after, hang on, I'll find it for you." Buccerati racks his brains. If there's one thing he's certain your being honest about it's your real name. He pulls it from his memories and relays it to his friend. "No, no need to take any action once you find them. Just let me know the details, particularly of the illness. Very well, thank you," he concludes the phone call and hangs up. He leans back in the seat and sighs.

He barely gets half an hour to rest before the phone rings.

"Oh hello, that was quick. Did you find them? That's excellent. What did the records say?"

The agent relays his findings. Matching the surname he gave him is a little girl about 5 years old, currently residing in the hospital closest to Buccerati's base. The child is suffering from a frightful condition that, although rarely fatal with treatment, can leave sufferers in need of constant medical care for months on end, along with more minor support for years after.

The most concerning thing about the records is that the agent was able to find visitation logs attached to the data, and they all speak of a single, anonymous visitor with recorded visits matching perfectly with the dates and times of your disappearances.

Buccerati thanks the agent and promises to wire him a little money for his quick and extensive help. Hanging up, he broods deeply. He cannot simply allow your suffering to continue if there's anything, anything at all he can do to help.

He is broken from his trance by the sounds of panicked footsteps running in from the hall. He catches sight of Mista and Narancia sneaking in from the hallway, and is struck by the immediate impression that they are by all definitions, up to no good.

"What's the matter you two? You seem startled," he presses them patiently. He is met with two loud sounds of 'uhhhh'.

"Nothing Buccerati, we swear it!" Narancia promises.

"Yeah! In fact, we were just going to the shops and were arguing over what to get!" Mista backs him up. Buccerati rolls his eyes and smiles.

"Alright. Not too much sugar, Narancia? We don't want to find you being sick in the bathroom at two in the morning again, do we?"

"It's not me you have to worry about doing that now," Narancia mutters under his breath.

"Pardon?" Buccerati asks, confused.

"Nothing! We should go now!"

The boys immediately make their exit out the front and disappear down the street. Bruno tuts. Sometimes he thinks he'll never understand that lot. He smiles.

As he replays the encounter in his head, it occurs to him what that strange item poking out of Mista's pocket was. The leaflet from (y/n)'s room. Shit.

"Mista? Narancia? I think we should have a word please!" Buccerati shouts down the entry street. But it's two late, they've both disappeared out of earshot. Buccerati throws his hands up in despair, and returns to his room.

::::::::::::

Abbacchio knows what he sees. Mista and Narancia go running down the street and about 20 second later, Buccerati goes out shouting. As Abbacchio watches Buccerati return to the house in defeat, he makes a decision. He's had enough of those kids and their petty little antics. If Buccerati doesn't have it in him to set them straight, he will.

"You look pressed," Fugo remarks as Abbacchio pushes past him in the corridor.

"None of your business. Mista and Narancia are up to no good and now I've got to go and find them," Abbacchio grunts.

"Narancia?! But he promised me he'd work on his assignments tonight! Little bastard, I'll kill him!" Fugo fumes.

"Will you now? Better keep up then," Abbacchio says, throwing on his coat.

It doesn't take them long at all to find Mista and Narancia. Indeed, they're cowering in the very first alleyway left of the house.

"We can explain," Narancia promises.

"I bet you can," Abbacchio mutters half-heartedly.

"Take a look at this!" Narancia urges them. He pulls a pink leaflet from Mista's pocket and rereads it himself. "It says 'parenthood'. We found it in (y/n)'s room. Does that mean she's pregnant?"

"Why in god's name were you snooping around in (y/n)'s room?" Abbacchio interrogates them.

"Furthermore Narancia, you can't read," Fugo adds.

"Well, for a start, Buccerati did it first. We just went in after him to see what it was he was looking for. Second, Mista read it for me, and he swears it says 'parenthood'. Isn't that right Mista?"

"Sure is," Mista affirms. "Look."

He flicks the leaflet in front of them and, sure enough, they all read the same word. Abbacchio and Fugo curse simultaneously.

"What the hell is their game, thinking they can hide something like this from us?" Abbacchio fumes. "Does Bruno think he's protecting her or something? He's a fool."

"If I may, Abbacchio, it is most uncharacteristic of you to speak ill of Signor Buccerati," a voice from behind protests. Abbacchio turns with a jolt to see Giorno standing at the entrance of the alleyway along with a very bewildered looking Trish. They each have a couple of shopping bags in their hands.

"Are you spying on me?!" Abbacchio shrieks.

"Not at all. I simply thought that going after dark would be a much safer time for Trish to do her shopping, so I was taking her out," Giorno explains. "I overheard your voices and came to investigate, but I really haven't heard much."

"(Y/n)'s pregnant and Buccerati's hiding it from us," Mista fills him in.

"Wait, I'm lost. Did Buccerati get her pregnant? Because if so, what in the actual hell?" Trish comments.

"Fucking christ. Could you imagine?" Narancia remarks. The group soon devolves into a mess of interrupted shouting.

"All of you quiet!" Abbacchio yells. He holds up his hands in desperation. "We are going to get to the bottom of this and we're going to do it now! We are going right home, and we are getting (y/n) to explain herself, whether she likes it or not. Agreed?"

::::::::::::

You had an awful eery feeling getting out that shower would be a mistake. The last thing you expected tonight was being hounded by your dear teammates while you're half dressed and wet haired, particularly on such an outlandish concept as pregnancy.

"Slow down! What the hell are you accusing me of again?"

"You're having a baby and you aren't even telling us! Do you have any idea how much those cost?" Trish accuses. You don't even have an answer for that one, it's just so completely wrong there's no way to refute it.

"We aren't looking to judge, we just want to help," Giorno assures you, though his voice is drowned out by the rest of the rabble.

"I don't need help, I'm not having a baby!" you protest. Narancia opens his mouth.

"But the leaflet says-"

"What on god's earth are the lot of you doing?" Bruno calls from the hallway. "Why are you all hounding (y/n) all of a sudden."

"You think we don't know what you know, Buccerati?" Abbacchio confronts him. "You're complicit in this. You're helping to hide this- baby!"

Buccerati breathes deeply.

"Ah. I believe I know what this is about. Mista, I want you to take that leaflet you found and read the front page out to me. In full."

Mista complies.

"Parenthood... for the Parents of Hospitalised Children. Oh."

"You made the same mistake I did," Buccerati explains. "You saw the first word and immediately jumped to your own conclusions. But in regards to the full title I have carried out some follow up and have confirmed it is exactly what it sounds like. (Y/n) has a young daughter who is unfortunately quite sick at present, and she has understandably been taking time off to be with her."

"You know about her?" you exclaim in panic.

"Apologies (y/n), I was acting only in concern for your health. It was admittedly due to my poor caution that the others found out and, well, it went from there."

"Look," you protest, thoughts spiralling into panic. "I didn't mean for you to know. You said I could do what I wanted with my money so I did. There- there was no other way I could afford to treat her," you justify, tears starting to leak from your eyes. "Please don't kick me out. I swear this doesn't affect my work, all I need is a few hours a week to check on her!"

You collapse against the door in tears. The crowd goes into a shocked silence. Buccerati pushes to the front.

"Hey, hey, I'm not going to kick you out so don't worry," he promises. "I would never cut off a member of my squad like that, especially not when they have such a vulnerable dependent. We can talk about helping you with the money tomorrow, but now, let's get you calmed down okay?"

You nod through your tears. Buccerati guides you to your feet and leads you gently into the kitchen. The remaining group in the hall look at each other with pressed lips. Fugo takes the leaflet from Mista and reads through the front cover once more. He hits him.

#team buccerati #team buccellati #bruno buccerati x reader #bruno buccellati x reader #bruno buccerati #bruno buccellati #leone abbacchio #leone abbacchio x reader #giorno giovanna #giorno giovanna x reader #guido mista #guido mista x reader #narancia ghirga #narancia ghirga x reader #pannacotta fugo #pannacotta fugo x reader #trish una #trish una x reader

[burnedbyshoto]

cravings & needs

— Even Natsuo has cravings and needs that demand relied even when you, his wife, is pregnant.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

pairing: todoroki natsuo x pregnant fem!reader

warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, pwp, pregnant!reader, pregnancy hormones, slight daddy kink, lactation, breeding kink, natsuo platonic!calls reader mommy.

word count: 2,825

a/n: i am like: breed but no pregnant. but sometimes im like: pregnant but no baby. so basically, I lose.

kinktober day 16 main kink: lactation | kinktober masterlist

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

You were going to strangle Todoroki Natsuo until his face turned blue and purple.

Then you will cry.

Then you will profusely apologize as he splutters for breath.

Then you will kiss him soundly, fingers ripping his clothes off, raging hormones simmering your blood. 

Then you’ll shove him off of you, calm once again, and ask if he wanted to go get some ice cream as his pale skin flushed red.

To say the least, you absolutely hated your stupid, good for nothing, utterly super-fertile husband who just had to carry the Todoroki breeding kink gene. You were nine months pregnant, nine months after finally agreeing that both of you were ready for children. Your belly was so large and swollen with your future son that you often cried when seeing yourself in the mirror. Not because you were insecure, but because you didn’t think the skin on your stomach should stretch that much.

“Are you sure he won’t accidentally pop out of my stomach like in Alien if he presses against me too hard?” you had cried to your doctor of a husband who looked like he wasn’t sure if he should be laughing or mortified of your lack of common sense.  “I promise,” Natsuo smiled, pressing a kiss to your swollen hands, but you didn’t believe him.

But your entire body hurt at the moment. Every piece of flesh and contracting muscle was swollen to its max. You didn’t feel cute. You didn’t think you were cute as you lay in your bed with a million pillows fluffed around your body because you could no longer lay on your back. Your lips were pulled into a pout, your eyes shining with tears as you sniffled.

“Natsuooooo!” you wailed, your feet kicking against the mattress pathetically, calling out to your husband, who was doing who knows what. “Natsuoooooooo!”

There wasn’t even a response back to that, and for some reason, it infuriated you. Hormone and pain-fueled anger shot through your pregnant veins as a demanding cry left your lips. “TODOROKI NATSUO!”

“Yes?!” came the distant faraway voice, the scuffing of a chair on the floor and the pittering of feet as you remained on the bed, suddenly feeling guilty and sad. “Coming!”

So when Natsuo peeked into the room, his glasses sitting on the crown of his head telling you that he was probably looking through his research, you began to bawl. You had the audacity to tell Natsuo that you weren’t crying as your face burned with your embarrassing tears and as you soaked not only your pillows but your face with your tears.

“No, no, baby, what’s wrong?” Natsuo asked his face swimming with concern and sympathy for you, his nine-month pregnant wife. He approached the bed, sitting at the edge, but that made you cry harder as you turned away from him, your back to him. You felt his hand touch your shoulder, soothing your shaking shoulders as he let you stay unresponsive as you continued to cry.

“I hate you,” you eventually spat, the guilt no longer sitting in your collection of feelings because this was his fault. You sat up on the bed, or well, tried to. You allowed Natsuo to help you into a sitting position that made his damn bastard kid sit directly on your bladder. You had just peed!

“What did I do?” Natsuo asks, his mouth twitching in that annoying way that told you he was trying to take you seriously, but given all your outbursts lately, his expectations were low.

“You put this stupid fucking bastard demon little fucking shit in my stomach!” you raged, grabbing him by his collar and shoving his face to your stomach where the stupid kid was trying to play open the damn piñata on your stomach! “He has been in here for nine-months too long. My entire body hurts, and my tits feel like they’re about to fucking explode with this milk I fucking can’t even fucking save because this little shit isn’t coming for two more weeks. I want him gone. I want your stupid fucking little not so cute breeding kink demolished,” you hissed, your eyes glaring into his grey eyes that glistened with emotions that made the raging fire of hatred and anger flicker and evolve into one that went straight to your cunt. Fuck.

“You don’t like being pregnant?” Natsuo asked, his hands slipping under yours and manages to push them off of his person. Your mouth runs dry as you stare into his darkened eyes, and you’re subject to his thoughts and actions as your sore back comes in contact with your pillows. His voice is in a soft drawl, each word coming out slow and thick like honey. “Fuck, baby, that’s too bad because you look so fucking bred with my son. You have no idea how excited I get whenever people get to see my pregnant little wife, stuffed with my child.”

His lips are brushing against your collarbone as he says that, the heat of his breath making you pant. Your fingers curl into his shirt, your mewls pathetic and needy.

Stupid fucking hormones. 

“Where do you hurt most?” he asks, lips trailing down the cleavage of your swollen with milk tits.

“E-Everywhere,” you gasp when his hands slip underneath your shirt that barely fits anymore. His weathered hands trailing up the swollen mountain of your belly, you can feel the little shit in you reaching out after his touch too. “N-Natsuo! Don’t t-tease me!”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, my love,” Natsuo tuts as he pulls away from your collarbone, and you shiver as he manages to bring your shirt over your swollen stomach and past your aching breasts. “Do you need daddy’s cock to make you feel better? Maybe we’ll get lucky, and I can impregnate you again right now, so you don’t have to stop being my cute pregnant wife.” The thought of that sends your mind over the cliff. Realistically, you know that would be horrible, but the way his voice spoke in such a husky manner, and knowing that he is fucking obsessed with your pregnant, successfully bred body, a part of you hopes it happens. You watch with horny need and desire, ready for your husband’s mouth, fingers, and cock to please you and your horny state. But as you try to get your hands to his pants, the strain of his cock evident to you, you realize he hasn’t moved. “You’re lactating.”

You blink, and you peer down at your breasts, and you shriek at the murky white liquid dripping from your enlarged, swollen nipples. Through your entire pregnancy, you had managed to never leak milk in front of Natsuo. More often than not, you were with Fuyumi or Rei or your own family when it happened when he was at work, but for the past month, when milk was starting to leak out without your spoken permission, he had never been around. 

Natsuo tilts his head, his tongue pressing between his lips as he coyly looks up at you, grey eyes suddenly appearing jet black. 

You breathing piques.

And you don’t have the time to question why your husband looks like a predator cornering a prey as he sinks down, mouth suddenly enveloping a single nipple.

“NATSUO!” you shriek, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as his hot, wet mouth latched onto your nipple. 

His tongue twirled around your leaking nipples, lapping at the liquid that was coming out on its own, his hand on your other breast, keeping it upright, and you realized with a distant thought that he was somehow preventing the milk from spilling from your unlatched onto breast. You trembled under his hold, body feeling like it was being electrocuted as his teeth slowly sunk into your nipple, and he began to suck on your swollen, inflamed skin. It wasn’t anything different from how he usually sucks your breasts while the both of you fuck, but it felt to a greater degree of intensity and fervor for some reason. A rush of liquid, a slam of electricity slammed through your nerves as you wailed for Natsuo, your legs managing to hook over his waist as he sucked and sucked on your nipple.

Milk flowed from your free nipple, filling Natsuo’s mouth like a bottomless pit. Natsuo drank the sweet, warm liquid in his mouth, some of the murky fluid dribbling from the corner of his mouth as he sloppily drank you. Entirely obsessed with the taste of you.

“That’s so dirty of you!” you cried beneath him, hands weakly beating on his shoulders. “You’re so dirty, daddy! So d-dirty! You stupid, breeding idiot doctor pervert! D-Don’t you know that m-my milk isn’t — nghhh, oh my fuck, yes, yes just like that!!!! The milk — aaaahhhh!!! oh my god — the milk’s for the baby!!! N-Not… fuck, fuck, fuck, not for you!”

You tried to stare him in the eye but found the raw lust and want in his eyes to be overwhelming, your body trembling as you looked away from his gaze. The slight discomfort of having the milk being ejected from your nipple in such greedy, powerful sucks soon fades into throbbing pleasure. Your head knocked back into your once tear-stained pillows as you cry for Natsuo, the milk in your breasts leaking out even more now that there was a hungry mouth waiting to be feed. 

Your cheeks pounding with embarrassment. But you had to admit the feeling of his mouth, wholly and greedily consuming your milk made your cunt throb with heated need, and you were more than delighted to find that even in this position, your cunt ground against his hard cock.

He pulled away with a wet pop, his lips and chin absolutely wet with your milk, and you whimpered at the sight. If you knew any better by the way your breast no longer hurt, you’d say he sucked you dried.

“It’s my responsibility as a doctor, the father of your child, and your husband to make sure your milk is suitable for my child,” Natsuo calmly almost wickedly explained, his mouth suddenly against yours. “It’s my job to fulfill your body’s every little demand and need until you’re fucked and sucked satisfied.”

The sweetness of your milk suddenly invaded your mouth, and you cried at the taste of your milk.

“See,” Natsuo grinned, and you panted as he pulled away. He began to remove his pants and underwear, sliding down his boxers to reveal his beading, swollen cock, and tore your undies, unfazed by your scream of dismay as he spoke the entire time. “How can you hate when I put a baby in you. Especially when you can produce milk that fucking sweet, my love. I can’t wait to stuff you full with another kid, see you this fucking pregnant again. So soft, so cute, absolutely helpless and needy for anything and everything I can offer.”

Your cunt scorched and clenched in need, your panting, barely open eyes focusing on how Natsuo rutted his cock through your soaked folds, and how he had another hand to your other breast, pinching, almost milking your nipple.

Horny fury throbbed deep within you.

“Todoroki Natsuo, if you don’t fuck your pregnant fucking wife right now, I swear to go—aaahhhh!!! Shit, fuck!” you screamed as Natsuo’s incredibly thick cock finally entered your pulsing walls, stretching you out beyond what you were ready for as your body twisted and writhed against your pillows. Jaw slack open, tumbling heaving breathes, and half formulated curses escaping your mouth as his cock entered you.

Your eyes fluttered impossibly fast, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as Natsuo shifted his hips further into you. It seemed that while being pregnant, your cunt had become stupidly tighter, and Natsuo’s cock, which you could take without even breaking a sweat nowadays, had come to absolutely wind you like some blushing virgin as of late. 

“Shhhh, shhh,” Natsuo whispers against your cleavage, his hips rocking into you at a slow speed, teeth skimming and biting alongside your still swollen with milk tit. “Be a good mommy and let your daddy fuck you while drinking your milk, okay?”

You couldn’t even come up with an articulate word to say. Your head nodded, you think, you couldn’t even tell as his cock dragged up your walls, making your head spin just a bit as his mouth enveloped your thus far ignored nipple. 

There were moments where you felt like you’ve come to orgasm without actually orgasming. The sensation of his cock shifting in your cunt that was absolutely so tight, you could feel the pulsing veins on his cock beating against your walls with his pounding blood. But it was that wordless sensation of the milk being sucked from your swollen breast that made your toes curl with satisfying lust, the heat of his mouth, and bite of his teeth on your throbbing muscle and flesh that had your hurting hips shifting for more friction.

Pounding, blissful pleasure washed over you as the slurping noises of Natsuo greedily, hungrily drinking in your milk.

“Faster,” you cried when the not quite an orgasm faded from your skin but left a static sensation in the tips of your fingers and toes. Your hands went from his shoulders to thread and yank at his hair. “Faster, daddy, fuck me faster, drink my milk more! Do it harder, please, please, I need you more! I want to feel this more!”

And Natsuo, true to his belief what a doctor, a husband, and the father of your child should do, did what you demanded.

His hips rocked into you, the squelching noises of your wet pussy were loud and demanding. The rocking juices and essence from your legs seeping out with every rocking slam, splattering onto your lower stomach that Natsuo dutifully avoided. His mouth that was nursing on your nipple sucked and sucked; loud smacks and massive gulps you swore you could feel on your breasts made your thighs tremble with lewd need. You tugged at his hair, absolutely riveted with the way he drank you, shaken with the fact that found this attractive.

Natsuo drank your milk mouthful by mouthful, his blackened eyes piercing through you completely, making your lust haze gaze feel weak and absolutely shallow as the glinted with glee with every successive slam of his hips into your cunt. 

“Fuck, your milk is so fucking sweet,” Natsuo growls against your breast, his mouth taking a break from your breast as you pant wildly. “Gonna take all that I can before the pup shows up.”

The words curl and pulse in your core, and you can barely manage to stammer out his name at the thought of him feeding himself with your milk for the next two weeks before your child finally came. You shake with the need, your head nodding pathetically with the agreement to let him do as he wants as you slowly whine out a verbal response, but there’s no reason to answer. For when you do, your words heavy on your tongue, his teeth sink into your nipple, his cock brushes against your cervix, and the throbbing, heated pit in your stomach, so dense and heavy with your satisfied need and lust, exploded with the peaked wanton need. An orgasm ripped through your body, your heels digging into his hips as you screamed his name. Your body trembles as you can feel that all too familiar heat of his seed spilling within you, the sticky fluid swimming in you as he continues to feed on your milk.

Your nipples ache with the overstimulation, but you can’t muster anything more than a few pathetic whines as Natsuo continues to drink. He sucks and sucks and sucks until he pulls away. The final gulp of your milk loud and sends a shiver down your spine as he wipes the back of his hand to his wet lips. 

Tears somehow explode into your eyes as you stare up at your beautiful husband, who, now that his own hormones have faded looks entirely scared.

“Oh fuck, what’s wrong, my love? Do you need me to go get ice cream? I’ll get the bath running, and we can go soak—?”

“I’m s-so h-happy,” you smile, a watery grin on your face as you grab onto your husband’s jaw that is still slightly wet with your sweet milk. “You make me feel so happy, so good. You make me feel like the best person in the w-world, and I wouldn’t m-mind being pregnant with more kids as long as you keep doing that.”

Natsuo stills, his scared expression melting into one of fondness and slight cockiness, “I think I can make that work.”

#todoroki x reader #todoroki natsuo x reader #todoroki smut #natsuo smut #bnha #bnha x reader #mha #bbs kinktober 2020

[korra-the-red-lion]

Lonely.

I will forever be salty that LoT doesn’t let Sara explore her grief a bit more, it seems. Anyway, enjoy some angst with a happy ending!

---

Sara put down the make-up brush and stared at herself in the mirror. It wasn’t a lot, but she felt confident in what she did for herself. Lightly, she put on the finishes touches to her lips and was ready for the big event.

In just a few short hours she’d be marrying the love of her life.

But why did her heart feel so heavy? Shouldn’t she be overjoyed that she was marrying Ava? But it only took one quick glance to the photo sitting her in locket to remind her why she felt this way. Laurel and Oliver smiled up at her, their faces alive and happy. Sara picked up the locket, holding it gently in her hand. At least Oliver got to marry the life of his life, Laurel never even got that chance. Both men she loved were tragically ripped away from her, before her own life was as well.

Although Laurel told her it was the right decision, Sara couldn’t help but still feel guilty that she didn’t use the Loom of Fate to bring her back. Why did someone like her get so many chances at life yet her sister didn’t? It was a cruel thing, fate was. Sara would have gladly given one of her several returns to life in exchange for Laurel to be here on her wedding day.

And Oliver too, who would never see his daughter grow old. How was it fair that someone who gave so much and rarely asked for anything in return was not allowed this once in a lifetime opportunity. At least Mia had Felicity, who was one tough cookie. It just felt like some cosmic joke to her. Oliver wasn’t perfect, but he deserved to grow old with his wife and children.

Sara blew a frustrated breath through pursed lips. She needed to stop thinking about this. About them. Today was supposed to be about her happiness, her love. About her and Ava finally retiring from saving the universe and enjoying life. It wasn’t an easy decision for them to make, especially for her. Sara had been fighting since she was teenager. What would the domestic life feel like? Going for walks with having to watch your back? Talking about that silly thing the neighbours did with Ava? Sara honestly couldn’t even picture it in her mind.

There was a knock at her door, startling from her thoughts. Sara put on a brave face and called out, “Come in!”

Nyssa walked into the room with a smile adorning her face. Sara smiled back, but Nyssa was not fooled. She had known Sara for a very long time and knew when she was hiding her feelings. Nyssa closed the door softly before turning to face her former love.

“What is wrong, Beloved?”

Sara smiled softly at the familiar expression. “It’s nothing, really. Just got thinking.”

“Thinking about what?”

“How much I miss them,” she said, looking down at the locket again.

Nyssa nodded in understanding as she came to sit next to Sara. “I miss them as well. I cannot imagine how difficult this must be for you.”

Sara clutched the locket, holding it to her heart. “I wish they could be here to see this. I want to let them know that I only got this far because of their support. Especially Laurel’s…” the tears welled up in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.

“Sara…” Nyssa reached for her hand, squeezing it in comfort. “They may not be here physically, but I know Oliver and your sister. They’re watching from wherever they are currently. They would be so happy for you, so happy that you found the love they wished for you. Do you understand that?”

“I do,” said Sara with a small voice, “but that doesn’t make me miss them any less.”

Nyssa hugged Sara tightly. All she could hope was that Sara could feel her emotions through the hug. That it was okay to grief those you’ve lost, you just cannot let it consume you. Sara hugged back just as tightly, wondering when the emptiness in her heart would finally feel a little more whole.

Another knock at the door broke the pair apart. Ray stuck his head into the room, his smile instantly dropping when he saw Sara. He wasted no time in walking across the floor and scooping the tiny assassin into a bear hug.

“I have no idea what’s upsetting you, Sara, but I’m not going to let it ruin your wedding day,” he said firmly.

“Ray…”

Ray put Sara onto the floor before getting to work straightening out her wedding dress. “Sara, I’ve known you for a very long time. Heck, I think you’re my oldest friend at this point. You were there for me when Nora and I tied the knot. We were there for each other through all the hardships that we’ve face. I would never let you do this alone.” Ray stepped back to make sure there wasn’t a single wrinkle left. With a satisfied nod, Ray placed a gentle hand on Sara’s shoulder.

“You deserve happiness and peace, Sara Lance,” said Ray with watery eyes. “I believe that more than anything else in the world.”

Sara swallowed thickly while blinking out tears. “Thank you…” She fanned at her laugh with a wet laugh. “Oh God, my make-up. Ava is going to freak out if I don’t get a move on things.”

“I believe I can help with that,” said Nyssa with a smirk. She held up the eye make-up with a fire in her eyes. “I am quite good with my hands, after all.”

Sara burst out into laughter while Ray looked pleasantly confused. Together, Ray and Nyssa got Sara ready to walk down the aisle.

XXX

Quentin looked like he was trying his hardest not to cry as he walked his daughter down the aisle. Sara squeezed his arm tightly as they did, trying to keep her raging emotions in check.

“I’m so happy for you, baby,” he said in a choked whisper.

“Thanks, dad.” Sara sniffled slightly. “I’m really happy too.”

He gave her a kiss on the cheek as he left her at the alter. He joined his wife in the front row. Sara took in the crowd. Jax and his wife were here with their kids. Thea and Roy were in the crowd chatting quietly to Dinah. Sara couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow when she noticed that Dinah had her pinkie finger linked with Laurel 2.0. That was unexpected. Barry and Iris were sitting next to Kara, Alex, Lena, and Kelly. Ray waved to her, his arm linked with a very happy looking Nora, who was also waving. Mona was seated next to Gary, who was already ugly crying. Nate was on Ray’s right side, and he was beaming up at Sara, Zari holding his free hand. Charlie was with her band, providing the music for the wedding. Amaya came from the past to also watch her former captain and friend tie the knot. She was seated next to the Hawks, which they had been hard to track down, but Kendra had been Sara’s first friend aboard the Waverider, and there was no way she was going to miss this for the world. Nyssa sat with Sin, who was looking so much older than Sara last remembered.

All her friends and family were here, and it was a wonderful sight to see.

Charlie looked up towards the doorway and motioned to her band to start playing the music. Sara’s heart was beating like crazy with anticipation as the doors swung open.

Ava walked out from behind the curtains. Her smile was wide and there were already tears in her eyes as she walked towards Sara. Her dress was nothing fancy, but that’s exactly what suited her best. Mick was walking her down the aisle. They had an unlikely friendship, but Ava had helped Mick with so many things in his life, he felt it only fair to return a favour. There were tears in his eyes as he helped her up the steps. He gave Sara a quick nod before clomping back down to take his seat next to Spooner, who was sitting with Astra and Behrad.

“Alright,” said Diggle with a clearing of his throat. “Sara and Ava both asked that this not be fancy. Sara said to me, ‘I already have enough drama in my life, I don’t need it at my wedding too,’ and I couldn’t agree more.”

This drew laughs from the crowd.

“So, Sara, do you have anything you want to say to Ava?” asked Diggle.

Sara nodded quickly. “Ava, I just want to say that you’ve made me the happiest girl in the world. You just get me, and that is so important. We’ve had our rough patches, but we always got through them together. You’ve been with me through thick and thin. I love you so much that it makes me lie awake at night thinking about it. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.” She smiled brightly, ignoring the tears that flowed freely down her face now.

“Ava, do you have anything you want to say to Sara?”

“Yes.” Ava took a deep shaky breath. Sara could feel the tremors in her hands as she spoke. “I hated you the first time I saw you.” Everyone laughed at that, including Sara and Ava. “But you slowly broke down my walls and taught me how to really live. If it wasn’t for you, I probably would still be working for Rip, without ever realizing the person I could have been. You helped me because the best version of me, because that’s what’s being a person is all about. Helping each other grow. I hope that we can continue to do just that, because you’ll be spending every moment with me, and I can’t wait.”

Diggle smiled at the two of them before saying. “Okay, well, go ahead then!”

Sara dipped Ava and gave her the most passionate kiss she could muster. It would take some time, but she was hopeful that Ava would help her fill the hole in her heart. She already had, in some way. Because Sara knew that this right here meant that she was no longer lonely. She would always grieve the death of her Laurel, her wonderful and beautiful sister, and her best friend in Oliver. But she also knew that Ava would always be there for her, every step of the way.

And she was ready to see where that path led.

#dc's legends of tomorrow #legends of tomorrow #lot #sara lance #ava sharpe #avalance #Nyssa al Ghul #ray palmer #grief #angst #wedding #writing #arrowverse

[graceloveswolves]

Insatiable

Requested By Anon : Helloooo hehe, can I please get a request with Carlisle Cullen where the reader has been by his side since he was a vampire but he still favors Edward and she confronts him and can it be really angsty and like break my heart because I need a good cry lmaooo. Love you!

I need a good cry too LOL, love you too! :) 

- Grace

___________________________________________________

   332 years. 

 That is how long I have spent with my creator, Carlisle Cullen. 

Did I ever leave him? No. 

Did I ever break his heart? No.

Did I ever break his rules? No.

Did I rebel against him? No.

Was I his first progeny? Yes.

Did he still l blatantly love and favor his son, Edward Cullen, more then me? 

Yes.

Out of my entire existence I have put all my love and effort into Carlisle, the one who had given me this wonderful life in the first place. Never disobeying his rules, or questioning his views on our kind, and what was right and what was wrong in his eyes. I respected his morals, and learned them myself, trusting him and adoring his compassion. 

Even when he had joined the Volturi while we were in Voltretta,  shortly after he had changed me, which wasn’t one of our finest moments, I stayed with him, doing whatever it was that he had ordered me to do. Not putting up a fight or questioning his decision to finally leave that hellhole, filled with the indigenous creeps of our kind.

However, my company wasn’t enough for him. He had ended up changing Edward Cullen, my now adoptive brother. Sure I was jealous, he had not found my presence good enough to satiate his loneliness, he had craved more then just my company, the company of someone else. It hurt, but I brushed it off and convinced myself it was a male thing, a guy thing, as people nowadays would put it. So I had welcomed this Edward with open arms, for Carlisle’s sake, since his happiness was after all my happiness. 

But to Carlisle’s dismay, Edward had refused us. He had left us. After Carlisle had explained our ways of life, and how we have had consumed animal blood for the greater good and to get by undetected, he had not liked that, and rebelled against Carlisle, leaving him in disappointment and alone with only me as his companion. 

I did my best, cleaning up the mess Edward had left Carlisle in, reassuring that there was nothing he could have done to change Edward’s mind. That some people just weren’t as strong as he was, that it wouldn’t be long until Edward came back to him. Which when Edward eventually did, all was forgiven and he had pretended like nothing had happened. But that was just how Carlisle was, which was one of the traits I had admired most about him, he forgave, he always believed in redeeming no matter how bad someone had messed up.

Once Edward had found out about his power and had told Carlisle, he was memorized and astonished by his son. Seeming to have harbored more interest in his special son, who had the power of reading minds of the people around him. Which also meant he had known about my feelings towards him, not hate, but envy, envious of the attention Carlisle had given towards him instead of me. Which made me feel guilt, for being so selfish and forgetting that he was Carlisle’s progeny as well. 

Over the years we had ended up being friends, after Carlisle had changed Esme, who was like a mother to us all, and Rosalie who despite Edward’s indifference towards her, I had loved her like a sister, becoming the first one she became close, then recruiting Emmett, Alice, and Jasper, I had pretty much given up on seeking his attention, considering he had six other family members attaining it as well. 

I eventually started drifting away from him, slowly coming to the conclusion that he’d completely replaced me over and over again, always finding someone else that had peaked his interest. The old vampire was simply insatiable when it came to finding new additions to the Cullen family.He never loved me like I had loved him, his actions had made it seem like he had completely forgotten our time together, all the places we had traveled together, the millions of memories we’ve had together, the pain we had went through together, like none of it had happened at all. 

It was safe to say that out of all of our family members, I had sacrificed the most for him, I had loved him the most, I was the most loyal, yet he seemed to have favored me the least. Like I could disappear from the family and he would be the last to notice my lack of presence. The thought did cross my mind every once in awhile, leaving, but not for long. With Alice’s ability to see the future, she would have seen it coming, and would try to stop me or worse tell Carlisle, which would be ultimately embarrassing. It had to be a spontaneous decision, I’d have to do it within 3 seconds before she would see my decision. 

Which hurt, thinking about leaving the person I’ve loved for over 300 years. I was sure I would never have the guts to actually do it, not unless he had told me to. 

However I now look at his office door, staring at it with many emotions flooding me. Anger, was one of them, how dare he let Edward bring a human to our house, exposing all of us and telling Bella our secrets, secrets that weren’t his to tell in the first place. Not without our permission. And Carlisle knew about it, of course he did, he had let Edward get away with anything, even breaking the rules, not only his rules, but the Volturi’s rules, which could not just end Edward’s life, but his life as well, our entire family’s life, my life. 

But dear ole Edward can not do any wrong! At least not in Carlisle’s eyes, which is the exact reason I’m walking into his office, yanking on the doorknob with as much force as I could without breaking it clean off. As I made my presence known, my creator had looked straight up from a book he had in his hands. Closing it, he had instantly taken notice in my anger, he placed the book on his table. 

“Y/n, what is the matter?” He asked, looking me up and down curiously, before instantly speeding towards my side. He placed a gentle touch towards my elbow, his gentle touch making my anger subside a little, making me anxious, I found myself almost rethinking my plan of confrontation. But I then remember the reason behind my anger, yanking my elbow away harshly, snapping myself out of my guilty conscience. 

“What on Earth has gotten into you Carlisle? Have you not been using your brain?! I know you did not just let Edward expose all of our family to some human he had just met. You of all people know the consequences all of us could face if the Volturi had known about the unethical behavior you’ve let your son practice the past two weeks!” I harshly snapped at the vampire in front of me. I shall stand my ground, not letting his presence side tract me from my decision to question his authority.

Carlisle had taken a long look at my figure, taken back from my outburst. He dipped his head, slightly nodding before looking back up at me with his topaz eyes. “Y/n, Edward has fallen in love with the mortal, she is apart of this fam-”

“No she is not!” I cut off Carlisle sharply, my voice low but full of venom. 

“We have enough family members, it would be a disgrace to welcome some idiotic human into a family she has no business being in. There are thousands of immortals Edward can choose from, why risk all our lives for one pesky human that poses a threat to all of us?!” I continued, sounding more like my sister Rosalie then myself, but it was the truth. I have had bottled up all my hurt feelings for over 100 years, now I have reached my breaking point. 

“How could you even say that? That is not what I taught you, you have known better then to look at life in that perspective. Bella makes Edward happy, why can’t you be happy for your brother’s success in love?” Carlisle questioned, never raising his voice, however his eyebrows were raised in disappointment. He had not seen the reason for my anger. He thought I should have been happy.

“Happy?” My voice broke, I paused, biting my lip as I held my tears in. Taking a deep breath, I finished in a quiet voice. “I have stood by you for over 300 years Carlisle, and I never once questioned you. I never asked for anything but your love in return.

I sat by for over 100 years and watched you replace me with Edward, praising him after all the rebellion and abandonment he had inflicted upon you. As you replace me with more and more children of yours, always putting them first, forgetting about everything I’ve ever done for you, forgetting about all the love I have shown you, and now you let him put all of our lives in danger, my family’s lives, Carlisle. All for a human.... and you expect me to be.... happy?” I spit out the last word as if it had been the most disgusting thing I’ve ever tasted. I had met his stare, silence floating around his office, not a single word was spoken in return. The topaz eyes of his quickly looking over my figure up and down. I had realized he was studying me, trying to figure out the real reason behind my hurt feelings and what really made me this upset. 

“Do you really feel that way, Y/n? Has your furious outburst of indignation really been on your mind that long?” Carlisle had answered, his hands resting on both of my shoulders, so he could look down at my face clearly.  I scrunched my face in pain, feeling the wetness of my tears fall down my face. The tears that I have been holding in for so long have just like my feelings, been released out in the open for my creator to see. I threw his hands of my shoulders faster then the human eye could see. 

“And the worst part is that you didn’t even realize the pain you’ve put me in. You don’t even notice your favoritism towards him. He is going to ruin this family Carlisle, and you’re going to let him. Just like you let him get away with everything.” I wiped my tears, trying to get a hold of my emotions. Where was Jasper when you needed him. He undoubtedly has felt my emotions by now, and the rest of the family is probably hearing this conversation right about now.

Almost as if he had mind reading powers, Carlisle had responded effortlessly. “How about we talk about this another time when it’s just you and me Y/n?” He had offered, once again, gently touching me, however this time his hand was gently resting on my waist. His lack of interest in this conversation had sparked a rage inside me, a rage I’ve never felt before in my entire existence.

“You know what Carlisle? I’m tired of you pushing my feelings aside for the convenience of others. We can talk about this now, I’ve waited long enough.” I had grabbed his arm, raising an eyebrow. Standing up to my creator for the first time in 330 years. 

He however, did not find that amusing. 

“Y/n, you can wait for us to discuss this privately, or you can leave.” Carlisle had raised his voice. I had felt my heart shatter in a million pieces. Out of all of our time together, he could not give me the satisfaction of putting me first for once in 300 years.  After all I had done for him, after all the time I put in, putting him first, he could not do it in return the one time I really needed him to. 

I stared back up at him in shock, not knowing if this was some kind of test he had been setting me up on. Maybe some part of him had expected me to wait, I mean after all I had waited and obeyed him since the day he bitten me, how could he not think otherwise? 

Well now it was my turn to disappoint. 

After the long moments of us staring at each other in silence, waiting for me to fight back, it was in this exact moment I had made up my mind.

I was done fighting for his attention.

If he refused to give me the same amount of respect and love back, who was he to expect me to stay? I was tired of the disrespect. I smiled slightly, despite the pain I was in. 

“Fine.”

 I whispered, before running out of his office, and out of his house, out into the woods. I had not planned where I was running, nor was I paying attention to where I was running. I had just chose a direction and kept running as fast as my legs would take me, letting the tears fall, letting it all go. Maybe I would come back one day, maybe I’ll find other coven, maybe I’ll find someone who loves me back, but right now all I was focused on was getting as much space between me and Carlisle Cullen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~ Totally feel like making a part 2 but idk depends if y’all want one hope y’all like it.

#carlisle cullen #carlisle cullen x reader #twilight #twilight vampires #cullen clan #Emmett Cullen #edward cullen #Rosalie Hale #jasper hale #alice cullen #Bella Swan #edward cullen x bella swan #carlisle cullen angst #carlisle cullen x reader angst #carlisle cullen imagine #carlisle cullen oneshots #carlisle cullen requests #new moon #eclipse #breaking dawn

[kyle-valenti]

burnout only feels like burning

2.7k / Summary: kyle valenti doesn't have the same quarantine as his friends; an exploration of kyle's trauma during covid as a doctor. (tw depression & other triggers you’d imagine with this subject)

read & comment/ ao3

A little like the virus itself, Kyle’s relationship with his mask begins with worry, annoyance, and then pain. He’s more than happy to have the proper N-95 mask as they begin to get their first case at Roswell General but then a couple more patients trickle in and within a few days his skin is irritated and itching. Maybe it’s the news, maybe it’s the texts from his friends that he’s increasingly missing, but when the Regiment starts spouting off about how COVID is a joke he thinks it might be affecting his nerves too. By week three his former red mark left by the mask has become a permanent feature to his face and by week five it’s not a mark but a bruise instead. Blisters and cracks in his skin litter his hands from over-washing. His feet become so overused the pads of his feet feel numb and bruised and he wears through an entire pair of shoes.

Positivity has fled from his life by week seven and now he’s inside of a survival mode he’s never experienced. He thought after last year he’d be used to anything the world (or universe, rather, given all these aliens) could throw at him. Now what feels foolish, he had believed that there was nothing that could be worse than the previous pain of losing a patient or finding out his father had experimented on people’s lives. 

When he’s out of ventilators and CPAP machines because Albuquerque needs them more and he has to choose whether or not to save the life of an eighty five year old or a thirty two year old he remembers from high school, he breaks.

 Guilt is one thing, grief is another, but the pure rage he feels knowing that Max Evans is out on the town patrolling as some fucking cop and not someone who could heal most of this hospital makes him want to commit actual murder. Maybe trading the blood of an alien on his hands would feel less heart-wrenching. But no. Max had brought back Rosa and had paid the price. Quelling his anger, he went back to work.

 He slept at the hospital most nights in the height of it. Sure the couch was rough, but it was better than the other on-call doctor beds down the hall. Three twelve hour ER shifts of a usual work week doubled to five days of thirteen hour shifts. Soon there’s a week where he pulls double shifts for an entire week when one of his nurses is urgently hospitalized herself. Hospital directors had left them with no PPE except contaminated masks to reuse. Maria, Isobel, and Rosa are in the forefront of a drive to make and donate masks to his hospital after some social media posts that he doesn’t even see until the cloth masks arrive and his medical assistants give him their handwritten note. It makes him smile, but smiling feels so foreign that he almost wants to break from that.

 Visitors are no longer allowed which means Kyle isn’t allowed to use his bedside manner to comfort the family of patients. He has to facetime mothers, spouses, and children and hold the phone over a patient who can’t breathe without machine assistance and pretend that everything is fine and that there’s still hope despite the hypoxia and lack of rising vitals. Ignore that if the patient goes into cardiac arrest more than once, the kindest thing to do given prognosis is to let the patient pass. Resuscitation and DNR (a patient’s begging request to not be resuscitated) becomes a word he uses in his daily work and not simply for intense surgeries.

 Exhaustion isn’t a deep enough adjective to describe the fugue state he goes into. File to file, room to room, ventilator to next… he isn’t surprised when his body starts to wear down. When he no longer feels hunger and instead feels all too hot and dizzy. Telling himself it’s just because of how much he’s exerting his body while covered in layers and layers of protective clothing doesn’t help the fact that he’s starting to have more trouble breathing as he walks the hallways at a fast pace. When he begins to cough, he does what he promised himself he wouldn’t do and drives out post-shift to the desert cabin of Max Evans.

 Part of him is too desperately tired to knock, but when he arrives on the property with the cop car idle and the house dark and at peace for the night, his fury greets him with the embrace of a long-lost friend. Knuckles pound at the wood and Max answers the door with surprise and a general look of defense, and Kyle tries not to immediately punch him in the face at the fact he looks like he had woken up from a comfortable sleep.

 “Heal me.” Kyle manages to spit out.

 “I—what’s wrong?”

 “Beginning stages of respiratory distress, fever, nausea—what do you fucking think?”

 “Kyle—,” Max starts to say, the hesitation deepening, and that does it.

 “No. I have not asked you for anything in all of this, Evans. Anything!” He shouts, voice hoarse. “Not when people got sick, not when they started dying, not even when we started having to let people die on purpose. And you know what? I wasn’t going to even come and ask you now, but I can’t get sick when I’m the one here fucking saving lives out of the two of us and you’re just cruising the streets handing out goddamn traffic tickets.”

 Max’s face isn’t stony like it usually is when Kyle’s yelling at him; this time it’s crushed and guilty but not nearly enough. “What kind of hours you work this week, Evans? A nice 8 to 4? Did you get facetime with Isobel or your mom, maybe binge through a few books and movies after you’re home? Did you sit down and eat a nice dinner and or go over to drink a few beers with Guerin since you can’t get sick? Even get a nice eight hours of sleep in your own bed in your nice quiet home?”

 No response.

 “I am not asking to sequence your DNA like Liz. All I am asking is for you to let me heal people since you don’t want to.”

 A night breeze is all that makes noise for a moment as Kyle catches his breath and glares at Max, who stands quietly but is staring down at his boots before he finally looks up and nods. Max steps forward then, and Kyle sees that his eyes are actually filled with tears. Temper deflating, but still not subsiding entirely, given that not much else is able to be done; Kyle lets Max place a hand on his shoulder and feels the extremely weird feeling spread throughout his body. Something more electric than anything else, which God knew made a lot more sense concerning his powers and how the body operated with electrical nerve impulses, but that is a train of thought better left for another day. He wants to just walk away, and he almost does, but he still mutters a “thank you” before he does so.

When his nurse dies a few days later and he watches as the staff double bag her body to take to the morgue, he escapes to his office and crashes on his couch with sobs. There’s no one here to support him. He can’t go to his mother’s home and collapse into one of her comforting embraces without risking infecting her. He can’t get wasted at the Wild Pony with Maria when it’s closed. He can’t visit Rosa or Arturo at the Crashdown. Keeping his friends and family safe meant keeping them away from him. Keeping them safe meant he needed to stop pushing his head into his hands to try and control the sound of his crying and get back to work at saving the lives around them.

He gets put on leave by the hospital administrator when he’s almost arrested for decking Wyatt Long in the hospital parking lot as the idiot stood outside with a sign rallying Regiment members to make sure the hospital was told it was killing people on purpose for the election. If Jenna hadn’t been the officer on duty he would have been cuffed and put on record, jeopardizing his license, but there was some self-preserving part of him that desperately wished for his practice to be over anyway. He’s not even sure how Jenna handles it, honestly, all he remembers is her dropping him off at his house from her patrol car like she had been nothing but an uber. No matter how angry and adamant he gets, his boss refuses to bend, saying it’s for his own good given the connections the Long’s have in the town and how Kyle has worked almost 74 of the past 76 days.

Alex is the first to visit him, unannounced. When the doorbell rings Kyle is mindlessly pretending to watch some tv show in his living room that’ll distract him from his consuming thoughts about patients, so he doesn’t get up to answer. He checks his silent phone to see if he was forewarned of a visitor but sees nothing. Unsure if it’s his boss or a patient’s family, he forces himself up onto his sore feet and opens the door after grabbing a regular mask off the coffee table. Black face mask on and standing further out from the door on the porch is Alex, the usual gruff hello turned into something soft. “Hey.”

Kyle heaves a sigh. He had wondered when the pity visits would begin. “Hey. You really shouldn’t be around me, you know.”

“I’m clearly a minimum of eight feet away in an open space while masked.” Alex smarts back. “Either way, I’m worried about you.”

Scoffing, he shakes his head. “Don’t fucking worry about me. Worry about getting sick, because if I have to see another person I care about die, I--,”

“Kyle.” the other says too kindly, the sort of pacifying voice Alex reserved for only the most dire situations. “I have no idea what you’re dealing with in specifics, but my experiences do overlap with yours in some places.”

“And?”

Maybe it came out a little too rude, because Alex raises a brow, but then sighs instead. “And I’m just checking in to make sure you know people care about you.”

“Thanks, Manes.” Kyle huffs in return, managing not to roll his eyes because focusing on being blunt and abrasive was so much easier.

“Just be careful.” Alex interjects before Kyle could close the door and turn back to his show. “Dealing with the trauma of what you’re dealing with gets dark very quickly.”

“Because I punched Wyatt Long?” he spits back sarcastically.

“No, because the suicide rates for healthcare professionals are drastically increasing along with the rates of PTSD diagnoses.” Alex says flatly, ever one to be unfazed by sarcasm. “And I’ve lost more active duty members to suicide than I have combat.”

Kyle pauses, caught. Maybe Alex had known he would be, because there isn’t some way he can give a smile and reassuring wave with him like he could his mother or Liz. While Kyle hadn’t actively thought of a plan, he couldn’t pretend he had noticed signs of depression the second he was alone in his house. 

“The quiet is the worst part, right?” Alex says, all but reading his mind. “Not always because of the flashbacks, although those are horrible, but because if things are quiet then--,”

“--people are dying.” Kyle finishes, his voice raspier by the end of the three words. “Yeah, well, mine still are.”

“They’re going to.�� Is what felt like a cold response, but somehow gave Kyle the understanding he’s been craving. “They’re going to die and because of your profession you’re going to be able to save some of them. Which will make you think you’re responsible to save all of them and because you’re a good person you’re going to feel guilty in ways that no one will understand for being human and failing to.”

“Failing is all I do lately.” Kyle replies. “Usually the wins feel higher than the losses as a doctor, but with this-- and no one outside of it cares. They go outside and yell about how this is about a fucking election and when it’s not the patients, it’s the hospital pretending they don’t have enough money to buy us proper protection. Or the government saying this will all go away and that it’s just a light cold.”

Alex gives a small nod. “I know. I also know telling you the same advice that you’d give another doctor of trying not to burn out and instead taking a small rest is useless. So I’m just going to drop off these dvd’s and make you report back to me the difference when you’re done.”

Star Trek and Star Wars. Kyle finds a smile tug on his lips. Alex leaves with one on his as well.

When he gives a response to Alex a few days later on how Star Wars is better not more than a few minutes later Deluca is texting him with recommendations on joining her Buffy the Vampire Slayer rewatch. There’s something sweet about the fact that people have been clearly talking about him, even if definitely borderline creepy with how nosy his circle of friends can be, but he sighs and lets Maria add him to the group chat she has with Rosa and Liz where they review each episode after the fact and even chimes in every now and then. Isobel gets added not long after due to an Instagram story Maria shares and then the group has moved onto Friends after everyone shoots down Liz for suggesting Grey’s Anatomy on behalf of Kyle. Alex is also in there, even if it’s rare he chimes in with an opinion, but once they start Friends his commentary about how much he hates Ross that gets the entire group riled up does tend to make him laugh. Even Kyle agrees with Forest-- whose opinion had been shared by Alex-- that Chandler had all too many queer-coded scenes with Joey.

His mother facetimes him daily, which given how they both don’t exactly go out much starts to become monotonous, until she begins to give in and talk about memories she has of their father. Tidbits she never would have shared with him about their adult life when he was a child or teenager. He in turn facetimes Rosa and shares some of the memories of their father as well, which as much as she tries to pretend she doesn’t want for Arturo’s sake she clearly does with the million questions she asks every single time and the small smile she gives him at the end of their calls.

Liz updates him on her work which is a nice reprieve from everyone’s normalcy and lack of medical jargon sometimes, especially when she gives him inside info on covid vaccine studies not yet published to the general public yet. Everything in him wants this more than anything else in the world right now and he texts her almost every day asking if she’s heard more news even when he knows things take time. She’s a good sport about everything, even when he shares in a very angry rant about Max Evans and how they could have helped so many more people so much more quickly with his DNA-- however selfish that might have been.

When he goes back to work, he feels refreshed, even when it makes things hit like a freight train once more. Lost in a sea of inadequacy, his feelings extend past the pandemic. Even when things return to a level of normalcy and the cases subside he gets alien medical drama thrown in his face once more, and he starts to wonder if he’ll ever recover. If he was wrong to choose this calling. If the fact he can’t help Max or Maria is a sign from above or his father that it’s time to make some career move or change location like his mother and Liz. But, like he tells Michael Guerin. He can’t think he can face his future children and say he walked away from this. Or let people die by quitting, just like Rosa warns. And so he stays and tries to heal both other people and himself.

#so yeah this was the lighter version #i had to stop before things got to dark for my own mind #also genuinely feel like the mentions he gives to rosa about feeling lost #should stem from this if the writers aren't cowards #kyle valenti #rnm fic #kyle valenti fic #roswell new mexico #tw covid #tw depression #my fic #my post

[robininthelabyrinth]

An AU where NHS is the one JGY kills? How would NMJ react to this? Would he care about his morals in the wake of his little brother murder? Would he take JGY life as enough “justice” for his brother bc if u think about it the last time a sect killed one member of his family (the Wen) he was down to go to war and kill them all and that wasn’t someone he had swore to protect :)

Something, once shattered, could never be put together quite the same way as before; it was a truism as applicable to the soul and the heart as it was to objects. And when his brother was killed over a matter of politics, a stupid disagreement between sect leaders over a question of principle, Nie Mingjue’s heart shattered – and his convictions with it.

Wei Wuxian had once heard it said that one should fear most of all the patient man, a gentleman waiting ten years for vengeance; whoever had said that, he thought, had never met Nie Mingjue after he’d blackened. The man wasn’t patient in the slightest.

It hadn’t seemed so bad in the beginning. The man had brought his brother’s body to the Burial Mounds, the corpse curled in his arms like a child, and he had knelt before Wei Wuxian could stop him.

“You revived Wen Ning, even though he was a child of a Sect,” he said, and his eyes were like black coals, the fierce light that had once shined within them utterly extinguished. “Can you revive him, too?”

Wei Wuxian hesitated.

“I will not hold it against you if you can’t,” Nie Mingjue said. He should have been angry, Wei Wuxian would later remember thinking; Nie Mingjue was known for his anger, his rage – why wasn’t he angry? Why wasn’t he raging? It was only later that he realized that Nie Mingjue’s grief was so complete, so all-consuming, that it had pushed him somewhere beyond rage. “But I would ask that you try. In return, I will help you defend those you protect, now and going forward.”

That was a tempting offer. Wei Wuxian had been forced to split from the Jiang sect because they could not protect him; the Nie, on the other hand, were more established, stronger. If they survived this loss, they would be very good protection.

Still, Wei Wuxian wouldn’t sell a false bid of goods.

“He won’t come back to life,” Wei Wuxian said, coming forward to put a hand on Nie Huaisang’s chest. There was resentment there, not as much as Wen Ning, who had suffered so much and kept it all to himself, no, but enough. Whoever had killed him had been someone he had trusted, and he had died angry and betrayed – and no one did anger better than the Nie. It would probably be enough. “He’d still only be a corpse. You know that, right? Your sect above all others abhors the existence of evil –”

“I don’t care,” Nie Mingjue said. “It was my righteousness that failed him; I will not let it stop me again.”

“He wouldn’t be evil,” Wei Wuxian tried to explain. “Wen Ning isn’t evil. But he’d still be a corpse.”

“Even if he is evil, it doesn’t matter,” Nie Mingjue said. “I won’t be able to stop until I see him again.”

Wei Wuxian didn’t know what Nie Mingjue meant, and he was so uncomfortable with having the unbending, unyielding sect leader kneeling before him, begging him the way Wen Ruohan could have only dreamed of, that he doesn’t ask any more questions, merely agreed to give it his best effort.

He should have asked.

He should have –

He didn’t know what he should have done. At any rate, he would later learn that Nie Mingjue spoke the truth: he would not stop. He couldn’t stop.

He left his brother in Wei Wuxian’s care, and he returned to the Unclean Realm, and from there he set for to Lanling, to Koi Tower, where the people who had killed his brother lived. Wei Wuxian wasn’t sure what happened there, isolated from gossip as he was; by the time one of the Wens dared go down to the village and heard about it, everyone had universally started to refuse to talk about the entire event, naming it taboo.

Still, they heard enough.

Perhaps Jin Guangshan had hoped that his younger brother’s death would drive Nie Mingjue into a qi deviation, or perhaps he’d thought that Nie Mingjue would be so bound up in his belief in justice, his respect for etiquette and law, that he would not be able to respond in force. Perhaps he simply didn’t think it through at all.

He certainly didn’t think that Nie Mingjue would come to Lanling in the middle of the night, without warning nor declaration of war, and raze Koi Tower to the ground before half the cultivators of the Jin even knew what was happened. Who knew what salt was used to sow the fields, what monsters were willingly unleashed, but the entire city died almost overnight, the ground turned to ash, flames hot enough to melt gold rising up to the heavens with a roar like a dragon, the people was put to the sword – some people believed the children had been spared, others denied it. Nobody knew anything for sure.

They said Nie Mingjue was like a martial god, eyes indifferent even as he reaped life after life – Wen Ruohan had carefully cultivated his inner sect disciples from the most powerful he could find, and they almost all fell before Nie Mingjue’s blade; Jin Guangshan’s cultivators, who were selected on the basis of other considerations, didn’t stand a chance. There was no mercy, no humanity left; Nie Mingjue had left that all behind along with his righteousness, disregarded as useless and unimportant because it couldn’t even keep his brother safe – and Wei Wuxian thought of Jiang Cheng, thought of Jiang Yanli, and couldn’t say that he’d do it any differently.

Some people even said Nie Mingjue wielded demonic cultivation in his anger.

Wei Wuxian didn’t know if that was true.

He didn’t know how he’d feel if it was.

He didn’t know what to feel, when Jiang Cheng came to him – they’d broken all ties, not so long before, and so it was a surprise to see him.

“Did anyone see you –” he began.

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Jiang Cheng said. His clothing was disorderly, his face unclean; he did not seem to be well. “Nothing does – the Jin sect is gone.”

Wei Wuxian felt fear for the first time. “But – shijie?”

“She’s safe,” Jiang Cheng said. “Jiang Ling, too; they’re at the Lotus Pier.”

“Jiang Ling?” Wei Wuxian echoed, eyebrows arching.

Jiang Cheng shrugged. “A surname is a small price to pay for life,” he said shortly, and that really said it all, didn’t it? “I don’t know what happened to the peacock, but I’m not holding my breath; rescuing shijie was already more than I expected…I’ve agreed not to interfere, in the future.”

“The future?” Wei Wuxian echoed. “What – what more is there? I thought the scheme was Jin Guangshan’s –”

“It was, but he wasn’t the only one who would benefit from it,” Jiang Cheng said. He ran his hands over his face. “The Jin were second only to the Wen when it came to the number of allied clans – anyone who had anything to do with it, even under suspicion, is considered guilty…I’ve all but given up our Jiang sect’s independence. If Nie Mingjue wants to wipe out one of the sects that answers to us, I won’t be able to stop him. My ancestors will be ashamed of me.”

“You did it for shijie.”

“I did it for all of us,” Jiang Cheng said. “I heard during the Sunshot Campaign that Wen Ruohan once sought an alliance with Nie Mingjue to dominate the rest of the world, which was rejected on account of what happened to the former Sect Leader – I believe it. I never thought it was true back then, but I believe it now. The masterless sabers –”

He shook his head, sealing his lips, and no matter what Wei Wuxian did, he couldn’t get another word out of him, just that ominous final phrase – the masterless sabers – how could a saber not have a master? A sword was only a spiritual weapon, guided by the cultivator that wielded it – even the Stygian Tiger Seal was only a tool.

“Why are you here, then?” Wei Wuxian finally asked.

Jiang Cheng looked at him as if he were stupid. “If I die, the Jiang Sect dies with me – where else would I be?” He saw that Wei Wuxian didn’t understand and snorted, shaking his head. “Didn’t Nie Mingjue promise you that those you protected would be kept safe? Well, here I am.”

Wei Wuxian licked suddenly dry lips. “Why would he kill you?”

“Because I would benefit,” Jiang Cheng said simply. “Whether or not I support what happened, I would benefit, a fellow sect leader…out of recognition for our former relationship, he told me that if I were here, I would live. The Lotus Pier won’t be touched. Besides, I’m here for another reason, on behalf of the cultivation world.”

“Oh? For what?”

“To get you to hurry up and bring Nie Huaisang back, of course. I don’t think anything short of that will make Nie Mingjue stop.”

I won’t be able to stop until I see him again.

“The process takes time,” Wei Wuxian protested. “Even though I have an idea of what to do, it’s not easy, it’s tricky –”

“I brought you help,” Jiang Cheng said shortly. He nodded down the mountain, where he’d left –

“That’s a small child,” Wei Wuxian said blankly.

“Somewhat undernourished,” Jiang Cheng conceded. “His name is Xue Yang; he’s a delinquent from Kuizhou, rather famous – well, infamous – for being pretty handy with demonic cultivation –”

“Jiang Cheng. That is a small child.”

“The Jin Sect took him in as a guest disciple –”

“Small! Child! How old is he, eight?”

“Twelve.”

“Jiang Cheng!”

“He’s pretty annoying, but he’ll shut up if you give him candy,” Jiang Cheng said. “I brought a bag. Now get back to fucking work before more people die.”

At first meeting, Xue Yang was a nasty little gremlin, full of spite and not a little bit of brilliance; it was extremely annoying how much it felt like looking into a slightly off-kilter mirror. He’d lost a finger, somewhere along the way, and while there was a sword buckled onto his belt he never used it – it took a while before Wei Wuxian noticed it, given that he himself didn’t use a sword and he’d assumed Xue Yang was following his example, but in fact the boy was terrified of swords.

More specifically, of sabers.

Even Nie Huaisang’s, which was – to be frank – the daintiest, frilliest saber Wei Wuxian had ever seen.

“You were a guest disciple of the Jin sect before,” Wei Wuxian said. “You saw what happened? The masterless sabers?”

Xue Yang averted his eyes and didn’t answer, which meant yes; he would otherwise have had a snappy answer of some sort.

“Was it that bad?”

“It was worse,” Xue Yang said, uncharacteristically solemn. “The masterless sabers - they hate evil. Who told them that people were evil?”

“I did,” a low voice said from behind him, and Xue Yang froze, the whites of his eyes showing; he resembled a small rabbit that had tried to demonstrate its toughness being suddenly faced with the teeth of a tiger.

“Sect Leader Nie,” Wei Wuxian said, much more respectfully than he might have otherwise, before the rumors. Nie Mingjue looked much the same as he had the first time: back straight, wearing his clan’s colors, his eyes dead inside. Even Baxia looked the same.

But he felt – wrong.

Maybe he really was using demonic cultivation, but if he was, it wasn’t anything like what Wei Wuxian had invented.

“How is my brother?” Nie Mingjue asked.

“The process is going very well so far,” Wei Wuxian hedged. “I should have a result for you within a week.”

Nie Mingjue nodded and turned to go.

“What are you going to do when he wakes?” Wei Wuxian asked, and Nie Mingjue stopped. “You said you couldn’t stop until he was back – what does it mean, that you’ll stop? Stop the killing? What will happen next?”

“Bring my brother back,” Nie Mingjue said. He didn’t turn back. “And we’ll see.”

That wasn’t reassuring. “Where are you going next?”

“The Cloud Recesses.”

Wei Wuxian’s eyes widened. “You can’t possibly believe that the Gusu Lan sect had anything to do with it – that’s your sworn brother’s home!”

“We made an oath together,” Nie Mingjue said. “I will uphold my end of it.”

Wei Wuxian didn’t understand; he simply stood there, helpless, watching the other man leave.

There was a tug on his sleeve.

He looked down at Xue Yang.

“The one who killed his brother, on behalf of the Jin sect,” Xue Yang whispered. “It was Jin Guangyao.”

Wei Wuxian thought about what he’d heard about the contents of the oath that the three war heroes had sworn and cursed, torn between chasing Nie Mingjue and stopping him and realizing that that would be futile. Even if he could raise an army of corpses to stop him, a man with an army that could defeat the Jin sect wouldn’t be afraid of him – and he didn’t dare use the Tiger Seal now.

“Let’s do what we can,” he told Xue Yang, who nodded furiously, all reluctance and moodiness gone. “If we can get Nie Huaisang back before Nie Mingjue reaches the Cloud Recesses, that’ll – that’d be good.”

“I don’t know if it’ll help.”

Neither did Wei Wuxian.

part 2

#mdzs #wei wuxian #nie mingjue #xue yang #jiang cheng #my fic #my fics #blacked NMJ would be a terror #novel WWX describes him as having one of the top three cultivations he's ever seen #including himself #a man who binds himself with so many rules must be afraid of what he would do unbound #the Jin sect made a terrible mistake #and everyone in the world is going to pay for it #timetomakeanewwish #blackened nmj

[mrsgiovanna]

Don Giorno fluff alphabet

An A-Z fluff breakdown of how it would be to love and be loved by this golden dreamboat. I may or may not have gotten carried away... *sigh* 🥺💭❤️

Cut for length

Activities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Giorno doesn’t have much free time, so the little he has available will be divided between going out to places where you both can enjoy the outdoors and feel the sunshine on your skin. He would also take you to art galleries and museums to indulge in the culture. Every so often, you guys will stay in and just bask in each other’s company.

Beauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

Naturally he’ll love you overall, inner beauty, outside beauty, everything. However, he’s especially drawn to your eyes. They are the windows to the soul, he loves that he can always see your true feelings by observing your eyes.

Comfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

The situation would determine Giorno’s actions. If you’re feeling a bit low he will make himself available to talk to you and help you work through your feelings. If you just need a cuddle and words of reassurance he will provide those too. If you’re being consumed by anxiety and panic he will try and calm your breathing to a more even pace and he will talk you down in a calming tone and reassure you that whatever it might be, he will always be there for you.

Dreams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

Growing up, Giorno didn’t have the happiest childhood. I feel he would yearn for a family of his own. Even though the thought of having children might make him anxious, he would be determined to give them the life he didn’t get to have.

Equal - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

Giorno would be the dominant one, but very gentle in his treatment of you. His natural charisma will have you submitting without you being aware of it, a perfect combination of Johnathan and Dio.

Fight - Would they easily forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

Giorno would not want to fight with you. Conflicts will be handled by trying to come to a compromise. If emotions are running really high he would remove himself from the situation until he’s calm enough to discuss everything. If you were the one at fault and you apologized to him, he would forgive you, he can’t stay upset at you.

Gratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

Giorno appreciates everything you do for him. Regardless of how big or small the gesture is, it means a lot that you’re being thoughtful of him.

Honesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

Given the nature of what he does, there will be a lot that he would want to keep away from you for your own safety. He will keep the mafia business as separate from his home life as possible.

Inspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

Giorno would learn how to be more outwardly affectionate and more expressive in general from his s/o. Not having formed secure attachments in his childhood, his s/o would be instrumental in him learning how to trust and reach that level of intimacy with someone.

Jealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

He’s not someone who easily gets jealous, he trusts you completely. However if a situation does arise where someone is being a bit too familiar with you, he will come to you and casually rest his arm around your waist and draw you against himself. A simple, but clear message.

Kiss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

The first kiss was sweet, albeit a bit awkward seeing as you were both young and inexperienced, as you both become more confident the kisses are passionate and leave you both yearning for more.

Love Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

He would confess in a quiet setting, perhaps during a candlelit dinner, or on a long walk along the coastline, initially being a bit nervous, but generally he would hide his nerves well. He would be forthright but still very sweet and respectful, perhaps using GE to create a single rose for you. He wouldn’t pressure you for an immediate response either, rather giving you some time to consider everything.

Marriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

Giorno would want to get married when the time is right. The proposal would be very intimate, just the two of you. He would have your ring made to your tastes which he has already discerned from how well he knows you. He would list all the reasons he’s thankful for you and end off with the big question as he slowly takes out the ring box from his pocket. The wedding would be everything you want it to be, he gives you free reign, offering his input when you solicit it. In the marriage, he wants you both to have a peaceful, happy life together, free from conflicts and drama, you’re his safe haven, he will protect that at all costs.

Nicknames - What do they call their s/o?

Mostly terms of endearment in his native Italian dialect. His favorites would be Tesoro, Amore, bella/Bello.

On Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

People very close to him would be able to tell he’s in love by the softness in his eyes when your name comes up in conversation. Thinking about you instantly puts him in a better mood. When it’s just you two, Giorno in love is like the first sunshine after a storm, it quietly illuminates everything with a warm glow, making you ever so thankful for its existence.

PDA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

While everyone who needs to know about your relationship does know, he’s not big on PDA or flaunting the relationship in front of others. Any PDA would be chaste, holding your hand every now and then, or putting his arm around your waist. Aside from keeping you safe from potential enemies, he just feels more comfortable being overtly affectionate with you in private. He has to maintain his image as a Don.

Quirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

Over and above his stand abilities, Giorno has an uncanny ability to read people, so he will always be able to sense when you’re not okay.

Romance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

He can be very romantic when it comes to showing you how much he loves you. He’s the type of lover to surprise you with something you’ve wanted but have long since forgotten about. He would arrange small, anonymous escapes for the two of you to the countryside. He knows that as much as he can give you material gifts, what you want most from him is his time, so he would think of creative ways in which you & him can escape.

Support - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

Giorno is supportive of your dreams and goals, having realised dreams of his own, he understands how important it is to have the people closest to you believe in those dreams. So whether your goals are academically inclined, a charitable venture or any other goal, he will support you in any way he can.

Thrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

Giorno wouldn’t mind trying out different things if you wanted him to, the busy nature of his work keeps things spontaneous though.

Understanding - How well do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

Giorno can read you like an open book, he’s very in tune with your feelings and emotions, as mentioned earlier, he is a pro at reading people.

Value - How important is the relationship to them?

He places a large degree of importance on you and the relationship in general. You keep him grounded and he is able to be the truest version of himself around you.

Wild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

One of Giorno’s guilty pleasures is baking with you. He has quite an affinity for chocolate, and he lives for warm domestic moments with you, so he can indulge in both by doing this.

XOXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

In the beginning his attempts at physical displays of affection would be slightly awkward, but as he grows more comfortable, he grows to adore receiving as well as giving kisses and cuddles, in private of course.

Yearning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

He understands that his job will most likely keep him away from you for periods of time. He will always check in on you even if just by text, to make sure that you’re okay, and to let you know how much you mean to him. He knows that he’s returning home to you, which encourages him during particularly difficult times.

Zeal - Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind?

Giorno’s no stranger to being placed in dangerous situations. He will do everything in his power to keep you safe, if anything threatens your wellbeing, he will do everything he can to make sure you remain unharmed.

#giorno giovanna x reader #giorno x reader #giorno giovanna headcanons #don giovanna #don giorno #giorno giovanna #giorno #giogio #jjba giorno giovanna #jjba fluff #domestic fluff #fluff alphabet #jjba #vento aureo #golden wind #jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken #my writing #valentines day

[jasontoddiefor]

As Lightning to the Children eased Chapter 14

Chapter 14 is out! Read on AO3!

Padmé did not call Anakin out when she found him hiding in her living room, arms tugged beneath his knees, his chin resting on top of them. He didn’t look like he had gotten any sleep lately and she was not about to stop him from getting at least some rest.

Instead, he merely put a cup of tea in his hands and went about her work. Halfway through midday, she got the call she had been waiting for.

“Senator Organa,” she greeted her ally and friend. Bail Organa was a good man, friendly and charming on top, and Padmé wondered what would happen if she were to let him meet Obi-Wan sometime. The two seemed like the kind of people who’d get along like a house on fire. “How are you?”

“Quite well, thank you,” Bail replied. He glanced at Anakin once but didn’t further react to his presence. “And yourself?”

“Exhausted, if I’m honest,” Padmé said. “The war hasn’t even truly started and I already feel as if I’ve aged years, but let’s not linger on that. How is your charge?”

“Adjusting,” Bail said. “I offered to take him home to Breha, but he decided that he wanted to stay on Coruscant. I’m not sure whether it’s the proximity to the Jedi or if it’s because he has to protect me in turn for keeping him safe, but I decided it would be beneficial for his health to remain at my side.”

Padmé smiled at him, honestly and truly happy. “I’m relieved to hear that.”

Finally, some good news during this catastrophe. When the Jedi had taken them all back to Coruscant, nobody had been too sure what to do with little Boba Fett. Technically speaking, his father – no matter how undeserving Padmé thought him of the title – was a deceased criminal and there were enough people who wanted Boba to pay for his father’s crimes. Hi status as a clone also didn’t really improve his situation. Padmé would have taken Boba in himself, as would the Jedi, but neither was quite the right fit, and when Bail Organa had offered to take him in, then that was just good fortune.

“If you ever need someone to babysit, I can jump in last minute,” Padmé joked.

Bail smiled and nodded. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind, Padmé, but I believe Boba would protest quite heavily against being babysitted.”

“He can be part of my protective detail then,” she amended. “I’m sure he will do excellent work.”

X

The Council room was dead silent.

“You’re joking, aren’t you?” Qui-Gon asked, allowing disbelief to seep into his voice.

Whereas some of his fellow Masters smiled in tired exhaustion, others only rolled their eyes.

“A new member this Council needs,” Yoda said. “Wise in the Living Force you are and raised a brilliant Padawan you did. A new member of this Council you may be if you accept.”

Qui-Gon wondered what Dooku would say about this. His Master had already departed with his own clone battalion, heading straight to the Outer Rim and into the zones that promised the most gruesome battles. Dooku was a brilliant talker and given his relationship with the Senate, he’d probably be more useful on the Council than Qui-Gon. He had already been on the Council once.

Qui-Gon knew he was stubborn and thick-headed and unlikely to change his mind unless proven wrong. Both Dooku and Obi-Wan had told and shown him so often enough. Qui-Gon wasn’t chosen for delicate and amicable peace talks. He usually went to do the negotiations where they expected things to blow up, and more often than not, they did.

He was not the best option for a War Council, especially when he struggled to wield the Force as he used to.

“Why me?” he finally asked when he didn’t know what other question there was left to voice.

“Love this Order more than anyone else, you do. Had Knight and Padawan Skywalker not found their way here, found your way to them, you would have. Listen well to the world, you do. Not afraid to speak your words, you are. Ready for this, you are.”

Not yet. Speak first. Right a wrong, my dear child, explain your scars—

“I have to talk to Anakin,” Qui-Gon said, his heart hurting at the thought of the youth, yet rejoicing at finally getting a glimpse of the Force again. “I cannot give you an answer before I spoke to him.”

The Masters nodded and Qui-Gon left.

X

Anakin was easy to find, hiding away in one of the lowest accessible levels of the temple. These days, he was either at Obi-Wan’s sickbed when Obi-Wan was asleep, at his mother’s when she wasn’t telling him to finally go talk to Obi-Wan, hiding away in Padmé’s apartments or down here. Qui-Gon had first thought that Anakin would try to go deeper, search for what lingered beneath the warm marble of their temple, but he never moved from his spot.

“Anakin.”

The Padawan winced when his name was called, then slowly turned his head only to return to staring blankly at his hands. He looked absolutely miserable, tired too. Qui-Gon sighed.

“Do you remember the mission to Naboo? When we accompanied Padmé back to it?”

Anakin gave no sign that he was listening to Qui-Gon, but he decided to keep talking anyway. “When we entered the ship, you collapsed. Something set you off, something incredibly dark and harmful, and, best I could tell, it flipped a switch for you. Revealed something it shouldn’t have.”

Anakin’s hands curled to fists as Qui-Gon sat down next to him. “Obi-Wan and I didn’t know what to do, so we- no, I decided to do what I thought was best. I blocked those memories, dressed them up in kinder images.”

Even now, so many years later, Qui-Gon remembered it so clearly. The chains wrapped around Anakin’s entire body, the sun burning him, reminding him that he was not supposed to be there.

“And then, when you tried to heal me later on, you needed the knowledge that I had hidden from you to do better.”

“To let you die, you mean,” Anakin said. His voice was hoarse as if he hadn’t spoken in days. “It would have stopped me from resurrecting you.”

“Yes,” Qui-Gon agreed. “I would have died and it would have been alright because it was my time. My actions took away something you should be able to recognize subconsciously and I want to apologize for it.”

Silence followed Qui-Gon’s statement as they let his words linger. It was true. That he realized now. Whatever he had done, it had shifted something within Anakin that wasn’t meant to be shifted sideways.

“I think you made me human,” Anakin replied, wings unfurling as bones cracked. “I don’t think I was meant to be human.”

His eyes were still closed, but Qui-Gon could still fill all of them watching him, waiting for a reaction, a confirmation.

“No, you were not,” Qui-Gon replied. “And I’m sorry I made you something you weren’t supposed to be in my fear of what you might have become in that moment.”

“I want to be human,” Anakin muttered. He stretched out his fingers, sharp claws, golden like his teeth, bleeding as if from scratching his arms raw, trying to dissect himself and sew his flesh back together in the right way, anything less hurtful. “I don’t want to be like this. Everything is so loud and I’m always too much and if I get angry, I break the world apart. It isn’t fair that I can feel so much, but I’m not allowed to embrace it.”

“Oh, Anakin.” All thoughts of logically expressing this to his Grandpadawan were forgotten. “Who told you that you can’t embrace your emotions? You just can’t let them become too much. You can’t let them consume you. You need to find your balance again.”

Qui-Gon knew it was a cruel demand to make when he had been so afraid of what would become of Anakin almost a decade ago now. There was no telling whether Anakin would still exist once he found that balance again or whether he’d return to his silent parent. After all, what parent would abandon their child if not because they knew they weren’t needed anymore?

“I’m scared,” Anakin admitted. “I was afraid my mother would be put back together again wrongly if I healed her so I lashed out and murdered all of them in cold blood and then I was scared to lose Obi-Wan and instead he lost his arm because of me and I’m scared that if I try to fix me, I won’t be me at all. I know I can do it. I’ve been looking, I can see where you used your paint on me, but I just—”

Anakin looked up, bright blue eyes staring at Qui-Gon as he cried and wrapped his arms around him, hiding his face in his robes.

“I don’t know what to do.”

Gently, Qui-Gon held onto Anakin. How strange that a being as bright and strong as him needed an anchor as fragile as Qui-Gon. He ran his fingers through Anakin’s hair, humming a melody under his breath he’d been taught years ago on a small Mid Rim planet.

Minutes passed, hours without either of them moving until Anakin’s shoulders stopped trembling.

“I can’t tell you what the right path is, Anakin. You have to decide that for yourself. The only advice I can give you is this question: do you love the Jedi?”

“What?” Anakin’s confusion was painted across his face in broad brushstrokes.

Qui-Gon smiled. “I asked if you loved the Jedi?”

“Of course! You’re my home, my family! How could I not?”

“Good.” Qui-Gon nodded. “Then you will remind yourself of the fact that you love your family and that your family loves you every day and every action you take will be in this knowledge. Do not act against this love in your heart, Anakin, and may it ease the burden on your mind.”

May it guide you well.

X

Obi-Wan’s hand trembled. He hardly had any control over his new appendage and it frustrated him to no end. He was a perfectionist at heart, had spent hours training his fine motor control to become a Master of his form. He tried to keep his breathing under control, to focus, and not let the pain overwhelm him. If not for his own sake and to resist the temptation of just throwing his lightsaber halfway across the room, then for Anakin.

His Padawan already felt so guilty for Obi-Wan’s injury, he didn’t want to make him feel worse.

He couldn’t stand the thought of looking at Anakin’s sad eyes.

“Rough night?”

Obi-Wan turned his head around to find Shmi standing at the entrance of the training hall. Her injuries had healed well during her stay with the Healers, only a few faint scars across her face and shoulders revealing what she had been through. She was dressed ready for battle, wearing the new armor the Jedi had been given. Obi-Wan had tried it on once and immediately wished he could message Satine and ask her whether he could borrow one of hers for the war. Mandalorian armor was so much more comfortable.

Not that he thought the Jedi should wear any at all.

“Are you shipping out?” he asked.

“Yes, Dooku asked for backup. Apparently, he’s been dealing with a Sith apprentice – a different one than the one you encountered on Geonosis – and intends to chase her down. Someone must take over his battalion. Since he dragged me back home from Tatooine, I’ll return the favor.”

“Take Anakin with you,” Obi-Wan heard himself say. “He needs to get out of the temple.”

“You haven’t talked yet,” Shmi stated, her tone not allowing for any disagreement.

“No,” Obi-Wan agreed. “And I don’t think Anakin will talk to me as long as he hasn’t gotten a proper break. So, please?”

Shmi studied him for a moment, then she sighed. “Alright, but the moment you’re fit for duty, he’s your Padawan again.”

Obi-Wan managed to crack a smile at that. “Of course, I’d never trade him for another.”

#star wars #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #qui gon jinn #shmi skywalker #fanfic

[static-fanatic-1]

Is it alright to request hc or dranbles about Chimera Ants like Neferpitou, Meruem, Shaia, Yupi and so more?

I hope this is enough ;)

Meruem:

• This guy would be a scary Yandere, after all he is pretty much one of the strongest nen users to date.

• Meruem is intelligent and powerful, he has influence all over due to being the king. His royal guard will also be obsessed with you. They will protect you with their life and give up everything and anything to keep you with their king.

• Meruem will see you as a lesser being, almost like a pet except less degrading. He won't chain you or tie you up, instead he will use his power to force into submission. Fear will keep you in line and if it doesn't expect to be punished depending on your offense.

• If it was something small like a snarky remark he will simply give you a heart stopping glare. On the other hand if it is something worse like trying to run off or defying him, expect to be overwhelmed by his aura. He will emptily threaten you with his tail or his sharp claws until you are back in line. The Chimera Ant king will be ruthless, only he can hurt you.

• Anyone that even hopes to help you will be given hell. Family and friends won't be able to help you, and if they even dare to try they will be killed without second thought. He will set you on his lap while one of the Royal guardsmen takes them out.

• He would be extremely possessive and scary when angry. No doubt in my mind he would go all psycho crazy when angry. He'll lick his lips and give that really scary look he gave when first eating human flesh. His nen will spike and he'll love to watch you choke in his aura alone. Anyone near him that isn't you or a royal guard will be annihilated, even then he might accidentally attack and sever off a royal guards' limb.

• Bedding Meruem will be a one way street. He will be on top and you can't do anything about it. He will give you what you deserve with whatever he has on hand. I don't think he will use anything extra in bed, relying on his own strength and might to do as he pleases. Expect something rough when he is angry and something touchy when in a good mood.

• Keep in mind, if you are his darling you are dealing with more than just the top dog, you are dealing with the whole pack.

Shaiapouf:

• What a drama queen.

• Whenever you are around his heart will flutter in his chest, it will be as obvious as you would expect. He will place a hand upon chest and flutter his wings around, maybe even jumping around your form and singing how much he missed you.

•Shaia will do anything in his power to make you comfortable while in his 'care'. Do you want to listen to some music, good thing he is amazing at playing the violin. Are you sore from trying to escape, he would love the honor to massage your feet. Do you want to see other humans, you don't have to, he is the best cuddle buddy around and will wrap you up like a burrito in his wings!

• If you try to escape his grasp, as you will he stuck in whatever castle Meruem resides in, he will be hurt. He will make sure you are safe and okay, but he will punish you after. Though I don't see him being too rough with you.

• Speaking of punishments, you would have to do something really bad to earn it. Things like escaping successfully for some time, trying to kill him and doing some damage, and that's kinda it. I don't see him wanting to scar your skin, he loves the way you look and would be disappointed if something damaged your perfect complexion. He would probably manipulate you into feeling guilty, even if it is his fault your here in the first place.

• Once you've been degraded enough he will wrap you up in his arms and give you so much affection. If you say your sorry and you won't ever do it again, he will make sure you have the best day of your life.

• He would worship you in bed, a dark look in his eyes as he makes you feel amazing. I don't think he would do anything too crazy, pretty vanilla in my book. If he liked something it would probably be sensory deprivation. He would like to watch you writhe in pleasure without knowing what he will do next.

Menthuthuyoupi:

• probably wouldn't be able to tell he is a Yandere.

• Youpi is as he would act to the king, a devoted soldier and guardsmen. He wouldn't hesitate to protect you, and for him that is the norm. The only reason you might know he is all over you is because he is protecting a human.

• He will not understand why you are so perfect to him, I mean you are human, pretty useless to anything he wants to do.

• Still, he finds himself interested and without hesitation he kidnaps and keeps you close. Youpi doesn't care if you wonder around and if you escape he doesn't care either. He'll just get you back, it isn't anything difficult.

• I honestly don't think he would get angry, I see him being extremely patient when it comes to you, but if someone else is involved, expect he'll. He wouldn't take it out on you, no he's more like a very jealous boyfriend. Everyone else around you would be slaughtered and consumed.

• He would probably wonder why you are crying about the people he killed, or not being around other humans. He would defiantly ask Pitou what's wrong, after all they are the best with human emotions.

• He would try to console you, it would be very awkward as he will be confused the entire time. If it doesn't work the first time he most likely won't do it again and instead will pull you close and hold you in his arms.

• This dude is both beefy and big, so he would be gentle. In bed he would let you take the lead, so you would initiate it. Youpi wouldn't have the best idea on what to do so he would do what you want him to do. The thing is he wouldn't do anything really weird without you telling him to, but his body can do whatever so any freaky body stuff is what he'll be good at. After some practice he would be able to take initiative, and if he does he'd probably be rough but with restraints. After all he wouldn't want to break you.

• Youpi would be pretty lax with you, though that doesn't mean he is any less Yandere. The Chimera Ant wouldn't let anyone near you, and I actually see him going semi feral if something happened to you. He is like a wolf in sheep's clothing.

Neferpitou:

• They are so sweet to their obsession, always doing their best to make them feel better about their situation.

• They care deeply about how you feel, and will do all the small, romantic things humans typically do in order to make you feel as if you belong. They will cuddle with you and smother you in affection whenever they get the chance.

• Pitou will be both top and bottom in the relationship. Either they will wrap you in their arms and tail or they'll be curled in your lap purring the night away.

• They will always want you near and will constantly ask if you are okay. Your feelings are a top priority. She will dote on you like a proud parent and will constantly gift you things whenever you feel down. Even if those things are relatively grim, like a head or something.

• I believe they understand how emotions works for humans, but I still think they'll slip up and do something questionable from time to time. Maybe their gift was the head of a human they killed that day, the one that tried to break into the castle and harm you. Or maybe they sniff your hair or lick a strip of your neck out of nowhere. If you act negatively they'll keep that in mind, but they might slip up and do it again.

• Pitou in bed might be a little strange. I have a feeling they would praise you constantly while also checking on you to make sure you are okay.

• Despite being relatively nice they will keep you glued to their hip at all times. They will be touchy without noticing and will give a death glare to any stranger who gets too close. They will let you wonder around the castle where they are staying at, but they will be with you no mater what. The only people they will trust would be the other royal guardsmen and the king, but even then they'll whine until it's them with you.

Chimera Ant Queen:

• Being the first Chimera Ant and the mother of many evil children, she'll be very similar to Meruem.

• She will have little concept of human emotions despite understanding human behaviors a bit. She'll pretty much only have motherly instincts and the thirst for human flesh. If she finds you to be good company she will hold you close and nibble on your exposed flesh and compliment your taste.

• Be warned, she will be delusional to an extent, wanting so deeply to eat you and keep you alive at the same time. She will constantly trace her claws and mandibles against your neck and waist. Probably your legs too.

• She won't allow you to wonder the premises like her prized son, she will keep you with her until death do you part.

• Speaking of till death do you part, she will eventually eat you, and the Chimera Ant with your DNA will be her new favorite child. She will dote on them and tell them how perfect they are because their DNA was from the perfect human.

• It doesn't matter if you had nen or if your "daughter/son" has it either. They will be the favorite and will be protected in the name of the Queen.

Zazan:

• The reason people say "If she breathes, she's a thot".

• Imagine she takes over Meteor City like she planned, the entire city being controlled by human feasting Chimera Ants. And her eyes land on you.

• If you end up being her obsession you won't be going anywhere. Anyone who follows under her new world order will know to keep you safe and close to their new queen. That or she'll probably have their head.

• No matter what you will be around one or more of her personal guards—whoever they may be. If you are not around one of them you are with her.

•She is such a princess, if she asks you to do something you should probably do it. I can easily see her treating her obsession like a pet of sorts, maybe a collar and leash to spice things up.

•Defiantly full of herself, thinks she is better than everyone and adores it when you tell her that. She will be wrapping her tail around you and holding you on her lap wether you be a gal or guy, to her you are a weak, lesser being.

•Even by the standards of humans she is rather nice to look at, and she knows it. She will always flaunt her looks without care and will use it to embarrass and tease you. Placing one of your hands upon her chest? She won't hesitate if it gets you flustered.

• Sleeping with her would be pretty strange if you aren't into it. She would use rope or handcuffs to keep you under her. Master play would be her thing for sure, possibly even some bottom dominance for she's in the mood.

•Getting away from her will be difficult as she will have Chimera Ant followers—possibly even some human ones. Zazan loves you, and when she is the queen, you are her concubine. Her favorite concubine.

Colt:

(Not my art; couldn’t find a gif.)

• Really possessive.

• Out of everyone I see him being the most open when it comes to his possessive/protective nature. He will defiantly be most likely to keep you locked in a room or cage of sorts.

• Everything he does is for your protection. You won't be seeing any family or friends anytime soon when he first starts out. He will ask Peggy what humans need to eat and what they shouldn't. Not to mention everything else Peggy can find on human health.

• Colt will follows the books to a T and will make sure you don't do anything different. He will practically control every aspect of your life.

• The only reason I see him allowing you to see your family is because you have cried so much or you refuse to take care of yourself. Despite being so controlling he has a big soft spot for you. He will take you to see your friends or family but that is probably it.

• Getting down and dirty with him is something I can't really imagine unless you ask him for it. Usually he will just wrap his arms and wings around you and go to bed, but if you are asking for more I think he would be a controlling vanilla. He will probably take a nervous lead and please you, but I don't see him doing anything strange.

• Colt is really loyal, so you don't have to worry about him loosing interest. Period.

#yandere hxh #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere meruem #yandere shaiapouf #yandere menthuthuyoupi #yandere neferpitou #yandere chimera ant #yandere pitou #yandere youpi #yandere pouf #yandere zazan #yandere colt #yandere chimera ant queen #yandere x reader

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Field of Poppies Part 27

Summary: After being apart for six years, childhood friends Tommy and Amelia reunite under odd circumstances. Tommy is an outspoken young man and Amelia is pregnant and out on the streets. The bond of family can be unbreakable but it is tested often. Especially when Europe descends into war.

Part 27: Someone from Amelia's past returns and causes a stir. Tommy begins to make himself known to people even in London

TW: Discussion of past rape/assault

It was a startling cold fall. Amelia felt the chill in her bones and she couldn’t entirely blame it on the weather. Tommy had successfully distanced himself from her and she was feeling the effects deep in her heart. The man she had married was gone. It was something that she forced herself to reckon with.

There was another thing she had to reckon with come October when a chill was starting to form in the air.

Luckily, it was Martha who intercepted him before he came into the betting shop. What was even luckier was Arthur and Tommy were gone on business in London.

She came over to find Amelia helping out with the books for the day. “Mel, there’s a man at the window asking for you.”

“Who is it?” She hardly looked up from the ledger, too consumed with work. It had become one of two outlets she had. Working in the shop and tending to the children.

The pregnant woman shrugged. “Said he knew you. Said he came from London.”

That caused to Amelia lift her head. There were few people she knew from London who knew she was in Birmingham. “Was he older?” She feared maybe her mother had disclosed her location to her father.

“No, ‘bout your age I’d guess.”

That made Amelia even sicker to her stomach. “Thanks, Marty, I’ll handle it.” She stood up and went to the window.

Martha, sensing her sister-in-law’s uneasiness, followed close behind just in case.

Steven was the son of a wealthy banker and a socialite. He’d known nothing but luxury and excess. Rarely did people deny him.

As much as Amelia hated to admit it, Max did resemble him in a way. They had the same hazelnut-colored eyes and light brown hair. But she had blocked out most of that. She could separate her son from the monster who took advantage of her.

“Leave.” She snarled.

“Amelia, please if you just let me…”

“Let you what? Huh? You don’t deserve a second to explain anything.” She gripped the doorjamb, trying to maintain her composure.

“I’ve just come back from France. I did a lot of thinking over there. Your mother sent me a letter about seeing you. About what she found out.”

“She should’ve kept her mouth shut.” Amelia interrupted. “She had no right to tell you anything.”

“No right? How dare you not tell me about the pregnancy? I have an eight-year-old-”

Martha caught Amelia before she could lunge at the man.

“You have nothing!” She shouted. “You have no right to claim him as your own. Neither do my parents. You keep him out of your thoughts because you’ll never have anything to do with him. I’ll die before I let you near him.”

Undeterred by Amelia’s ferocious state, Steven continued. “I have every right as his father. You’ll have trouble if you keep him from me, Amelia!”

“You’re not his fucking father!”

“John!” Martha shouted back into the shop for her husband. She was having a difficult time reining Amelia in.

“He’ll know nothing of you. And you’ll never know him. You won’t even know his name. You go back to London and you never come back here again, do you hear me?”

John rushed over and separated everyone. He put himself between the two women and Steven. “Who’re you shouting at, mate?” He demanded.

“This isn’t any of your business.” Steven didn’t balk at the fresh-faced man stepping in.

“It is my fucking business. This is the Shelby shop and those women are Shelbys.”

“Typical. She returns to the slums and ends up with the likes of you.” He scoffed.

John’s eyes narrowed. It wouldn’t be wise to cut the man in front of other customers in broad daylight, even if he wanted to. “You stay here much longer and you’ll be sorry.”

“You must be one of the boys she ran the streets with. Did she whore herself out to you too or just the other one?”

Amelia tried to get back at him but couldn’t get past John.

“This family owns these streets. Soon enough we’ll be owning streets in London.” John threatened. “So, move along before you make things worse for yourself.”

“Do you know who the fuck I am?” Steven snapped.

“Your name don’t matter here. The only name that matters here is Shelby. And don’t fucking forget it.” He hissed. “Scudboat, get this bastard out of here.”

Amelia was shaking but Martha managed to get her to sit down. “I should’ve known. My mother has no problem going behind my back. That selfish, selfish, selfish woman.” She choked back a sob. The entire encounter had opened up old wounds.

“Deep breaths.” Martha coaxed.

“How dare he-he try to call himself a father. How dare he?” She ranted. “After everything, he did to me? He destroyed everything.”

“John’ll take care of it. He’ll call Tom and Arthur.” Martha assured her. “They’ll make sure he never comes back.”

Hot tears rolled down Amelia’s cheeks. “What if he takes Max from me?” She sobbed.

“That won’t happen.”

“His family is powerful, they have money. What if they go to the courts?”

John was leaning against the wall just in case Steven returned. “We’ve got money too, Mel.” He said gently although he was still angry too. Amelia was a sister to him and there was no way he was going to let a man speak to his sister in such a way. “He won’t be back if he knows what’s good for him.”

“John, why don’t you go try and call Tom?” Martha suggested.

He glanced out the window one more time before going into Arthur’s office to make the call.

“Will you check on Ada and the children?” Amelia asked her sister-in-law.

“Of course, you’ll be alright?”

“Yeah.”

Martha gave her a squeeze before going next door.

Amelia stood and made her way to Arthur’s office. She stood by the door so John couldn’t see her but she could hear him.

“Arthur, is Tom there?” John asked when his brother answered. There was a pause. “Tom, it’s John. Some bastard just came ‘round looking for Mel. Guess he’s Max’s well-yeah. Yeah, biological.” Another pause. “Scudboat took care of him. Well, guess he’s going back to London. That’s where Mel said he’s from. His car? Looked like an Austin. A sixty, maybe a fifty. Well, how should I know, Tom? He shouting at Mel and Martha, I didn’t ask for his fucking address.” John sighed. “Yeah, yeah, I got it. I’ll see if they can catch up to him.” He hung up the phone and Amelia quickly moved away from the door.

John walked past her and called for Scudboat and a couple of other men. She watched as he handed the keys to the family car over and they left.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Amelia didn’t hear from Tommy that night even though he planned on calling. The phone stayed silent on the hook. Martha came over to the flat to keep her company.

“Oof, I tell ya, this one is not easy.” The young woman held a hand to her lower back. “Abby and Wilbur were so easy. Thought it would be just as easy this time around.” She rubbed a hand over her stomach.

“Ask Polly for some remedy. She always knows what to do.” Amelia suggested. She was sitting on Annie’s bed across from her sister-in-law. The two were each braiding their daughter’s hair. Max was on the floor laying on his stomach as he toyed around with wooden soldiers with Wilbur.

Martha nodded. “Oh, Abby, your hair is so long.” She sighed. “I can’t believe how old you are sometimes.” She cooed and kissed her beloved daughter’s cheek.

“I’m big too, mummy, right?” Annie chirped.

“Very big.” Amelia smiled. “In a couple of years, you’ll be going to school like your brother and cousins.”

“School’s boring,” Max muttered from his spot on the carpet.

“Well, you need an education,” Amelia replied. “Someday you’ll thank us for that opportunity.”

“Finn says we don’t need school.” Wilbur piped up.

Martha and Amelia shared a guilty look. It had been such a misfortune that Finn couldn’t go to school when the boys were away at war. He had missed so much and now he felt he was old enough to decide if he went or not. Unfortunately, Tommy and the others agreed. They wanted to mold him into the next Blinder. The poor boy couldn’t even read.

“Sometimes it’s difficult to see that what we do now, although it’s hard or may not be fun, it will mean a lot to us in the future. You’ll be thankful for it, I promise.”

~~~~~~~~

Tommy returned home the next night, a day later than he originally promised. Amelia was finished tucking in the children when he came upstairs. They exchanged a kiss and Tommy put his bag on the bed.

“Are they asleep?” He asked.

“No, they’ll still be awake.” She answered.

He pecked her cheek again before going to say goodnight to Annie and Max.

While he did, Amelia began to unpack his bag and sort through the dirty and clean clothes. Inside, she found one of his white button-downs. Dried blood was splattered across the collar and sleeves.

She held the shirt in her hand for longer than she realized, just staring at the maroon-colored stains. There was no question in her mind whose blood it was.

The floor creaked behind her as Tommy returned. He saw her holding the shirt.

“Did you kill him?” She asked quietly.

“No.” He answered truthfully. “Just cut him. He won’t be around again.”

Amelia finally let go of the shirt. “What if he goes to the police?”

Tommy closed the bedroom door behind him before going to sit on the bed. “He won’t if he knows what’s good for him. He knows we won’t be in there for long. And when we come out…”

“You promised not to get nicked again.”

“What was I supposed to do?” He questioned. “He thinks he can come around her again demanding to see our son? We taught him a lesson. I’m not getting nicked for anything.”

“I don’t want you getting in trouble because of him. It’s not worth it.”

“Not worth it?” He stood up and took her hand. “You don’t think I would go to prison defending you?”

“You hardly even look at me anymore.” She whispered. “I know you’re struggling, Tom, and that’s okay. I promised I would never abandon you. But don’t abandon your family because of some crusade you think you need to take on.”

“I won’t fucking let him near my family.”

“Then focus on your family.” Amelia challenged. “Stop pushing me away!”

“This again.” Tommy rubbed a hand over his face. “Every fucking conversation leads to this, Mel.”

“Because it’s been the same for weeks. I feel like you don’t even want to be around me anymore. You used to be my world, Tommy. I would wake up in the morning and you’d always be there. Every day you would be there. You were attentive and caring and so passionate. Now I-I don’t even know if you want me anymore.”

“I can’t apologize for changing,” Tommy muttered, letting go of her hand. “I can’t apologize for being forced into war and being broken down. I’m doing me best, Amelia. I don’t know what more you can ask from me. You want the old Tommy; well, I can’t bring him back for you even if I wanted. I still love you just as much as the day you came back to Small Heath. I don’t know what else to say.”

“Neither do I.”

Tommy took a deep breath and walked back over to her. There she was, still the same quiet young woman who arrived in Small Heath broken and afraid. He felt that maybe once he got his hands on the man who broke her, he would be satisfied. Maybe she would be too. If she knew that he had forced the man to his knees, forced him to beg for his life, force him to apologize for everything he’d done.

But Tommy knew all that and he still didn’t feel at ease. Just like he didn’t feel at ease when he returned home. They could be brought away from the trauma and danger, but it still clung on without mercy.

“Do you know what cycle I go through every night?” Amelia asked quietly.

“Tell me.” He begged. There was nothing more he wanted to do but heal her pain. Just like she tried to heal his. It may have been futile efforts, all of them, but he would never stop trying. Even if he felt empty inside.

“I have nightmares every night. Nightmares that you’re leaving again. That you’ve been killed in war. That you’ve-you’ve left me for someone else.” She choked back a sob. “And every week or so I have the same nightmare I’ve had longer than any other. It just replays the night that he-that he raped me.” In almost ten years since the assault, Amelia had never said the word out loud. She could never get herself to. There was so much anguish and guilt. Her parents said it had been her own fault. Steven had claimed she wanted it too. To try and put herself at ease, she never said what he truly did to her. Until that night.

Tommy pulled her into his arms. It was true that he felt so far away from her. So far away from his children, his siblings, his aunt, his nieces and nephews. Everyone. He felt so far away from Small Heath. But that didn’t mean he was withdrawing from his duty as a father, brother, husband, nephew, all of it. He’d be there physically, if not mentally. That’s all he could do.

And he vowed to himself as he held his wife flush to his chest, if he ever saw Steven again, he would murder the man.

Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @biba3434

@kimmietea @enrapturedbythemoon @vampgirl1997

@tarafaithe @evelynshelby

Tag list: @shelbyblinded @hanster1998 @xxbeckybeexx-blog @fairypitou

Masterlist

PB Masterpost

#tommy shelby #tommy shelbyxoc #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinder fanfic #fanfiction #ocs #john shelby #martha shelby #cillian murphy #cillian murphy fanfiction #ww1

[enternalempires]

What She Learned

Jasonette fic, a lil hurt/death, a lil romance, and I like it so... (also can someone please explain to me how to add the thing that I can make it so yo guys can click ‘read more’ instead of being forced to scroll past the whole thing???)

7-years-old and Marinette is told by one Chloe Bourgeois that she will never be worth anything in life, because ugly little girls like her don’t deserve attention. She’s pushed to the ground but she does not cry at her split knees or the scraps stinging on her palms; she stands up and she doesn’t talk back but she returns from school to a warm house and caring parents.

Her soulmate mark appears a month later and her bully spends a month sneering at the Phoenix resting against the inside of her wrist, dancing in reds and darkness and resurrection.

A week later, she learns that there are more important people to listen to than those who make her cry at 8 in the morning.

9-years-old and Marinette thinks that the blonde mayor’s daughter is the worst person she will have the unfortunate chance to meet. She gets insulted and glared at and has a hard time making friends but she is strong and she is kind and she will continue to stand even if she doesn’t know how important it is to get up after you fall.

She’s having dreams of dark streets and color nights; of dark gargoyles hanging off buildings, dirty-faced children, a city drowned in fear. She sees the face of a dizzy woman and an angry man and she wakes up terrified because there are bruises on a body that is not her own and the ache of an empty stomach underneath their palms. When she looks into a mirror there is a boy with a too-serious expression for such a young face and eyes blue enough to drown her in the sadness there.

She learns that there are some children out there who never had the chance to learn kindness before they learned how to survive.

10-years-old and Marinette is shoved into a row of lockers by a boy she doesn’t recognize, her pink dress and pigtails sneered at until tears fill her eyes. She doesn’t know how to defend herself  but she tries until she’s shoved onto the school’s grimy floor and breaks a finger trying to catch herself.

She does not cry, she does not say sorry, she does not think that it is fair for her teacher to say, “Boys will be boys,” instead of “I’m sorry you got hurt on my watch.” She will continue to stand up for herself even after a broken wrist.

She asks her parents about the nightmares, about the boy with blue eyes and an empty stomach; they tell her about her soulmate and they tell her that one day, she is going to meet him and love him how their parents loved each other.

13-years old and Marinette does not understand the word sacrifice but she is about to learn. She flinches at the sight of magic-tainted earrings and feels her fingertips run cold with insecurity— because she never wanted this, she didn’t want to be a hero and she didn’t want to be in charge of saving people when, in the past, she never knew how to save herself.

It has been a year and she starts to see flashes of a man in black and a large house that feels too clean to be tainted, too open to be safe. She sees the reflection of a boy in red, green, and yellow and feels the comfort of the heavy books underneath his fingers.

He never got the chance to be smart before, never got the right education, never learned something unless it helped him stay alive— and she goes to sleep smiling because even though he’s not quite happy, at least he’s safe.

15-years-old and Marinette is dreaming of a man in green and purple and she’s sobbing because— he’s getting hurt and she’s watching from his eyes and she can’t do anything about it. He cries out for his father, for the man promised to be there, and he dies alone and staring at a bloody crowbar, his blue eyes going dull in the reflection of his own blood.

She wakes up screaming and feeling empty and with the Phoenix on her wrist looking like nothing more than a pile of ash, red feathers and glowing eyes going blurry and dark. There is not enough light in the world to make her chest hurt any less and her parents hold her as she cries but don’t speak; there is nothing that could be said to comfort someone in the face of a loss like this.

She learns what it is like to be alone for the first time in her life and she no longer knows how to dream.

17-years-old and Marinette is standing at the bottom of the Eiffel tower, ruination around her, swirling and teetering on the edge of death, surrounding her like a wet blanket, the water of horror digging deep into her bones. She has watched her comrades die for her and she has watched them protect her with everything in them, believing that she will win. Believing that she will bring them back— and she does, and they’re safe, but nothing can change the fact that she will always remember what her loved one’s looked like dead, empty eyes staring right at her.

She did not win against Hawkmoth, not really, not when she has lost so much. She casts her cure and she returns home with the two recovered miraculouses, a heavy heart, and enough trauma to last a lifetime.

She knew what it felt like to mourn someone she never met but now she learns how it feels to grieve two people at once, even when they are still alive.

19-years-old and Marinette is staring at the fire that consumed the bakery, her home, her parents. She saw too many horrible, traumatic things that it takes a couple seconds to register that this is it, they’re not coming back. Because yes, she has seen the world end but no, the world did not end. She is used to being able to fix things that are broken in a way that makes sure they never broke but this is not one of those things and her parents are not some of the people whose lives she has the luxury of saving.

She is desperate to run and she is desperate to fight but there is no longer a battle in Paris. Her instincts tell her to go, go, run, don’t look back and don’t think about the bodies left behind, so she does and she ends up in Gotham and she ends up looking at familiar gargoyles and familiar streets and feels an ache so wide inside her heart she’s surprised it’s still beating.

She owns a small bakery on the corner of crime alley that is the only neutral ground in seemingly all of Gotham and she learns how to bake without crying at the scent of baked bread, turning her grief into comfort as she’s surrounded by her parent’s smell and memories of her childhood— she shares that comfort with any kids who come in looking for a safe place to spend the night.

21-years-old and Marinette has built herself a home; the building is old but warm and drenched in magic. She found all the other Miraculous boxes and lets the Kwamis roam free inside of her apartment, there’s over a hundred of them in total but she bonded with them all and, in return, they love her. She is the Guardian; both a monster and a protector at once.

The kids flock to her like moths to a flame and over the years she has gained all of their trust. She asks for nothing in return when she gives them food and medicine and a warm place to sleep. There’s magic on the doors that lead to rooms full of bunk beds and closets with food and medical supplies and sleeping bags and all is welcome— the kids know about the Kwamis and they know that she is safe, in a world that has taught them to fear everything, she is safe.

They call her the Guardian or Lady luck and she learns how to have a family again without being terrified of losing them.

23-years-old and Marinette has just saved one of her kids from Scarecrow. It is not the first time and it will not be the last. There are those that are terrified of her, gang leaders and villains that won’t step foot onto her land— but these are her kids, these are her people, this is her home and she will not feel guilty for protecting them.

She is polite to Batman and the other vigilantes, she has made friends with the Sirens, and she knows her way around Gotham and she knows when there is a problem that needs to be solved. She does not know what to make of Red Hood or the dreams that come with him or how her fingers tremble when one of the older kids comes through the bakery’s doors with a crowbar tucked under her arm.

She does not know how to make her mind any lighter, she does not know how to get rid of the darkness but she learns that there is such a thing as healing with time.

24-years-old and Marinette comes home from patrol and finds her balcony’s doors open and the living room smelling like blood. She sees Red Hood’s eyes for the first time and she does not cry, she does not fall, and she does not flinch. They are blue and more angry than sad and guilty— so, so guilty— but she knows them well. Her wrist burns and the Phoenix rises again from the ashes, and she no longer feels so alone.

She patches Hood— Jason, his name is Jason— up and she still does not fall over but her knees are weak, so very weak because he’s here and he’s alive and oh my God. She does not ask about the bullet wound but she asks about the sickly and tainted magic clinging to his skin. He tells her about waking up in the Lazarus Pit and when asked, she tells him about a boy in white and the moon cracked in half in the sky.

They do not know each other’s past well, they do not know so many things but they know that they don’t want to lose each other again. They do not know what to do next but she learns not to question it because her soulmate is alive and that’s good enough for her.

26-years-old and Marinette is getting married under a sky full of stars and the hands in hers are warm and there’s nothing cold about her life. She has her home, she has her kids and bakery and she has her Kwamis. She has Jason and he isn’t gentle but he is kind and he knows how to hold her just right when she feels like falling apart. She is kind and soft and knows how to hold him when he feels like the madness is getting worse again.

She is happy for one of the first times in years and she knows that, despite it all, she’d go through it again if it meant she could end up here; happy in her husband's arms and cheeks hurting from smiling so wide.

She has learned a lot and she’s not even 30, but she has learned how to love and how to be loved and how to always get up when she falls. She knows how to stand, feet firmly planted into the ground, and she knows how to not let herself get blown over when things get too hard.

But if she did happen to let herself fall?

Well, now there’s someone there to catch her.

#jasonette #jason x marinette #mlb fic #miraculous ladybug fanfiction #fanfic #batman dc #jason todd #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #death #learning #soulmate AU #cute #love #marriage

[myentertainmentthoughts]

My Little Pony - I watched all 9 seasons (and you should too)

Back in college I went from watching a YouTube video joking about My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic to actually watching the show for myself and realizing that it’s unironically fantastic. I can’t pinpoint an exact year for this, but I imagine it be roughly around 2012? Well, now that it’s 2021, I can finally write down my final thoughts on the show having finished it last year. I picked up where I had left off many years ago, and it’s definitely a come-full-circle feeling.

When people think of the MLP brand, especially as it regards MLP: Friendship is Magic, there’s usually only 2 associations that will pop into someone’s mind. Either its target audience of little girls, or worse - the internet phenomenon that was brony culture. Adult men in their 20s and 30s who tuned into the show and used the jokes within the writing & animation on 4chan and other internet boards. Of course there’s definitely more to the brony aspect of the fandom than meets the eye, and any negative stereotypes arising from this association are just that. Stereotypes.

But I think as cringey as the most extreme aspects of what I will refer to as “bronydom” are, I think that these 2 vastly different demographics really does touch on what makes MLP: Friendship is Magic so special. This show that was clearly geared for kids touches on so many universal themes (and does so shockingly well), that anyone can find appreciation for it. And the show deserves nothing less than that - the art style is appealing as all heck, the characters are extraordinarily charming, and the storylines are compelling. 

Of course, I will take the time to lay out that the show is at its strongest when looking at the personalities of the core cast of characters - or as they’re best known - The Mane Six. (Yes - that’s mane - not main, haha)

The main protagonist of the show is the unicorn Twilight Sparkle, who excels in academics and is exceptionally talented in magic. But she lacks socialization with her peers, and is sent by her mentor Princess Celestia to the town of Ponyville to make some friends. While there, she meets the rest of the gang -

Rainbow Dash, a brash and athletic pegasus who dreams to join Equestria’s most elite flyers - the Wonderbolts.

Applejack - a hardworking and steadfast earth pony who helps run her family’s farm - Sweet Apple Acres.

Rarity - a beautiful and fashion forward unicorn who runs her business, Carousel Boutique in Ponyville.

Fluttershy - the sweet and bashful pegasus who has a special talent for caring and connecting to all creatures big and small.

And Pinkie Pie - a spirited and party loving earth pony, whose biggest passion is to make those around her smile and laugh.

These are classic character archetypes, and while MLP: Friendship is Magic boasts solid writing, it cannot boast innovation on that front. But each of the characters do have enough individuality and depth that there are plenty of instances where they veer from their archetype qualities.

Most notably, these characters’ personalities are all flawed - something that is hugely relatable to everyone - children and adults alike.  Our flaws define us as much as our strengths. And accordingly, our flaws lead us into conflict. The show is surprisingly realistic about how much that plays into friendships and laying out the lessons to learn from that. While these lessons may be newer to the youngsters that the show is meant to target, they are lessons that should speak strongly to adults as well. After all, we never stop running into conflicts in our relationships, even as we grow older. It’s an achingly human quality that follows us throughout our life. So is it really that surprising when you see the adult demographic that enjoys this “little girls show”?

Furthermore, throughout the 9 year run time of My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, these conflicts are explored from the show’s beginning to its end thoroughly, and while the cast still consistently must resolve conflicts in each episode, the core cast of characters do not remain the same. They each grow significantly and evolve into mentor and leadership roles. They all take steps to achieving their goals and dreams - together.

It’s the perfect formula to a long lasting IP. And while certain jokes and gags did get old in the later seasons of the show, and sometimes the writers were a little overzealous in creating character decisions made for arbitrary conflict - fundamentally the writing holds up to the very end. I believe that is specifically due to the poignant quality of the show’s theme: Friendship is not always the easiest to uphold, but the best friendships do make life so much richer and wonderful. Good friendships are worth the work of keeping strong and alive. We are better together than alone.

So as an adult, is it worth checking out this show, beyond the internet culture aspect to it? I would say that anyone who gives the show a legitimate chance will be shocked at how much there is to latch onto and get value out of. There are 9 seasons worth of pop culture references and homages, a gaggle of great side characters (in addition to the core cast), and surprisingly epic moments that had me comparing fight sequences in My Little Pony to fight sequences in shonen anime arcs, and the MCU. (I’m not kidding about that either - this show has insane lore and I recommend this YouTube video series on it: The Complete My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Timeline (2020) if you want to see the history of Equestria in chronological order. In addition to any epic story arcs, the world building in this show is actually quite massive.)

Now admittedly, the show did go through a couple of unnecessary overhaul arcs to keep it alive for longer (as all long running TV shows can be guilty of). But MLP is less egregious in its quality dip than a LOT of other TV content that I’ve consumed. The ending does wrap everything into a neat little bow that as a fan, I was pretty happy with, and I think newcomers into the franchise will be pleased as well.

Ultimately, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic IS something very special. But only can be benefited from, by those who are open minded to seriously consume it. Cheers to my wrapping the show up and giving the later seasons a fair chance. Though it’s outclassed by some other animated content, I would say few to none outclass it within its own genre. And few outclass it even within the confines of animated television as a whole.  Friendship forever. :)

#my little pony #my litte pony friendship is magic #mlp friendship is magic #series review #mlp fim #twilight sparkle #fluttershy #rarity #rainbow dash #applejack #pinkie pie

[seriouslyhooked]

Feels Like This (Part 11)

Emma Swan is a once lost girl who is now making good. She has made a way in the world for her and her young son, Henry, and after years of hard work, Emma is in her last stretch of schooling for the career she’s always wanted. Unexpectedly, she finds herself in a tiny nation no one’s ever heard of for her last year of study. She knows nothing about the place except that it’s beautiful, has a world-renowned child life program, and is filled with possibility. Meanwhile, Prince Killian is hardly happy with the title he received at birth. As the second in line for the crown, Killian has long tried shaking his royal duties. He built a career in the royal navy, and has stayed out of the limelight, but his ship has been called to port indefinitely at the request of his brother, the King. Fate (in her many forms) brings Emma and Killian together and the resulting fic is a cute, fluffy, trope filled romp featuring heart felt moments, a healthy dose of insta-love and an assured happily ever after. Story rated M and will have 12 parts. Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10. Available on FF Here and AO3 Here.

A/N: Hey all! I am so excited to share this chapter for a number of reasons, one of them being that we get a new POV that is not Emma or Killian. That’s right, today I am including Elsa as one of our storytellers too. But don’t worry, as much as we’ll be learning about Elsa and Anna’s past and Elsa and Liam’s attraction to each other, there will still be some CS cuteness. Because it is me, there is also a LOT of fluff and feels abounding. It’s hard to say much more without spoiling, so, without further ado, I hope you’ll enjoy this chapter and thank you so much for the support and good vibes!

Wandering through the woods at the far reach of the Institute, Elsa did her best to stave off the worry that had clung to her heart all night. She hardly slept, tossing and turning, gripped with agitation, and all because today, at long last, the truth would come out.

It wasn’t that she enjoyed lying all this time, or that Elsa was desirous to keep her story hidden any longer. This was simply reflex. For years she and her sister had guarded their real origins from nearly everyone they met. Only a select few people in the world knew anything of Elsa and Anna’s past, and those secret keepers had not been chosen by her or her sister. They were thrust into this situation as children, but today they would take a leap of faith and share the truth with a new, but genuine friend.

Emma is deserving of our trust, Elsa reasoned to herself, continuing an argument she’d had internally for weeks. She and Anna had both agreed Emma was someone they could confide in and they believed in her goodness and her ability to keep a secret. They had both yearned for the chance to share this truth with someone – anyone - and now they had it. But it had gotten so much more complicated at the same time, and all thanks to the royal visit that happened yesterday.

When she and Anna moved to Montenarro and began working at the Institute, they both knew the slight risk that existed of their being found out. Public curiosity had long ago waned about their family, enough so that they felt capable of using their real first names in applying for the job, but members of the aristocracy were different. They memorized lineages, and studied other families of note, across country lines. The royal family of Montennaro may not come to the Center often, but they did sponsor and fund this charity. As such, there may come a time when they encountered the royals. This was, theoretically, not a huge issue, at least not in Anna’s eyes. After all, Anna had never actually met any member of the royal family, and so had no chance of being recognized. She assumed that Elsa was in the same boat, and that would make sense, for the sisters had done nearly everything together their whole lives.

Selfishly, Elsa allowed her sister’s assumption of their past run ins with the royals to stand, even though it was not accurate. She omitted the truth, about a moment in time that felt light years away and yet so cherished even now, because she wanted to stay here in Montennaro. It was her and Anna’s dream to do good works, to make use of all their many years of study back in France, and to leave the world a little brighter than how they had found it. After everything they had been through, Elsa so dearly wished to give back to children in need alongside her sister. There were no other opportunities like this one, no Centers that provided as much for their pupils, and no other place that felt like a home, not since the passing of their Grandmere. So Elsa had bit her tongue, and enjoyed the years of obscurity they found here with the children, always praying that her secret from her sister would never come to light.

Things obviously changed when Killian arrived, and when it was announced that the youngest son of the royal line would be here, working alongside them, almost every day. The panic Elsa carried with her was profound, but after hesitation in the beginning, Elsa realized there was nothing to fear from the Prince. Prince Killian had no connection to her, and he was instantly consumed by his attraction to Emma. There was no fear of him discovering who she and Anna were, not when he was distracted and totally besotted by her friend.

Only when she and Anna spoke with Killian after the parade did Elsa begin to worry again, not because she thought her friend would lose out on the clearly true love she’d found with Killian, but because it was clear as day that Emma and the prince would one day be married. That was a wonderful thing, but it would make a friendship between Elsa and Anna and Emma so much harder. Guarding this secret would become even more difficult if they regularly saw people who held so many breadcrumbs from the past. Elsa had grown more and more worried about it, but it was ultimately Anna who made the decision.

“There’s only one thing to do,” Anna said the night of Killian and Emma’s reconciliation. “We have to tell Emma the truth. I think the danger for us has long since passed, but even so, it’s best to tell her what we’ve been through. Just in case. That way, when they marry, as we both know they will, we can sidestep the whole awkward RSVP thing. It’ll be a shame to miss it, but it can’t be risked. Not if we want to keep hiding.”

Elsa was simultaneously relieved at Anna’s idea, and guilty at the fact that she still wasn’t being totally honest. In truth, it was eating her up inside, and she just didn’t know how much more of this she could take.

Not much longer now. You’ll tell them both everything today. As soon as Emma gets here.

At that moment, Elsa came to the part of a wooded clearing where green grass met the bank of a bubbling stream. The clear spring water flowed across rocks and moss, gurgling along in a measured, soothing melody. It was nothing like the mighty river they’d grown up on, which was loud and thunderous and strong, but still, a lullaby from her childhood filtered through Elsa’s mind, and a memory of their mother singing to her and Anna transported her back to the life they used to have…

“Sing it again, Mama, please?” Anna pleaded, snuggling into bed and holding Elsa close as she did. The two of them had their own beds, and their own rooms, but every night Anna made her way here, insisting that she and Elsa needed to be together. Elsa never tried to fight it. She loved Anna, and she always slept better with her sister beside her.

“Anna, darling, it’s late. Far too late for my two little princesses to still be awake. How will you ever rise with the sun if you never go to sleep?”

Their mother’s green eyes shone with mischief, but also so much love. She was pretending to deny them, but she could never say no to Anna. It was only a matter of time before she repeated the lullaby again, and Elsa couldn’t wait. She loved her mother’s voice. It was like warm honey in her father’s favorite tea. A splash of simple sweetness that made all the difference in the world.

“I promise to go right to bed. Look, I’ll even close my eyes,” Anna said eagerly, shutting her eyes so tight her face scrunched with the effort. Elsa shook with silent laughter and watched her mother do the same. Then their mother sighed and yielded to the request.

“Oh, all right. Now let’s see here. How does it start again…?”

Anna’s eyes popped open as she fed her the line. “Where the north wind meets the sea!” she exclaimed, and their mother shook her head even as she smiled.

“Ah, ah, ah. Eyes closed remember?”

Anna nodded and closed her eyes again before whispering. “You help her, Elsa. You and Mama sing. I love it when you sing.”

“Ok, Anna,” she agreed, taking her sisters hand and squeezing it gently. Then she and her mother looked at each other and started the song together.

“Where the north wind meets the sea There’s a river full of memory Sleep, my darling, safe and sound For in this river all is found

In her waters, deep and true Lay the answers and a path for you Dive down deep into her sound But not too far or you’ll be drowned

Yes, she will sing to those who’ll hear And in her song, all magic flows But can you brave what you most fear? Can you face what the river knows?

Where the north wind meets the sea There’s a mother full of memory Come, my darling, homeward bound When all is lost, then all is found”

In the short time they sang the song, Elsa felt Anna’s hold on her soften, but she wasn’t quite asleep yet. Elsa held a finger up to her mother, a signal that they should sing it through once more, and by the time that was done, Anna’s breathing had evened out and she was already dreaming. She was nearly impossible to wake once sleeping, so Elsa felt free to speak to her mother in a quiet tone.

“Anna still thinks if we search hard enough by the riverside, we’ll find the magic in the song.”

“But you don’t?” Her mother asked and Elsa shook her head.

“No. I think magic like that is just in stories.”

“Perhaps, but I like to think our magic – real magic – is just a little bit different.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well you’re right, the lullaby goes hand in hand with our old folk stories, the legends of Arendelle shared for hundreds of years. In those stories people had abilities that no ordinary human should have.”

“Like superheroes,” Elsa offered, and her mother smiled.

“Exactly. But just because we can’t wield water or ice or flames doesn’t mean we can’t make a difference. And you know how you make the biggest difference?” Elsa shook her head. “With love and with kindness. The way you love your sister, the way you love your father and I, the way you love everyone here in the manor, that is your greatest gift, my dear. And someday you will change the lives of so many people all by showing them great love and compassion.”

“You really think that’s magical?” Elsa asked, letting the idea wash over her. She always tried her best to do right and to be good to other people. That was what her parents had taught her. She liked the idea that by being good she was using a superpower, and the more she thought about it, the more it made sense. Everyone did seem so much happier when she was kind and patient, and at the end of the day, that was the greatest gift – to be happy.

“Oh yes. It’s an old magic, one that is so much more powerful than people give it credit for. But once you know of it, it’s your job to keep it strong. You must never give up hope, and you must always follow your heart and do the next right thing.”

“The next right thing,” Elsa agreed, not thinking too much of it as sleep was beginning to creep near. The hour was late, and she was tired too, but she wanted to stay awake and enjoy this time with her mother. She and Anna often had to share their time with their parents, and it always made Elsa feel special to be with her one on one. As if she could read Elsa’s mind, her mother pressed a kiss to her forehead and made a promise.

“We’ll talk more tomorrow, my darling. Now, get some sleep.”

Elsa had no idea that that night with her mother would be the last, and that everything she took for granted as the pillars of her world would be stolen in an instant. They’d gone from peace and contentment to total upheaval in the blink of an eye, and she and Anna were whisked away immediately, saved by little more than luck and the will of fate herself. The pain of that day would be etched in her soul forever, and so would the grief of losing the only home she’d ever known. But now, after decades of wishing things were different, Elsa could look back and be grateful, not for the troubles that had come, but for the sacred moments they did have with their parents before they were gone. It was hard to look back, but it was also a blessing. To have been so deeply loved that death could not sever the tie, that was something that had kept Elsa strong, and what she would cling to today especially.

Unwillingly, Elsa’s mind wandered at just the thought of love, to a man who bewildered her and drew her in all at once. He was always meant to be a beautiful memory, a boy she knew one summer’s day who showed her kindness and kissed her senseless. She could never confess how much she’d thought of him that summer. It was a girlhood infatuation that rivaled any other. Truth be told, he never was fully forgotten. He was always there in the back of her mind, until they’d moved here and she’d seen a random tabloid in the corner store. On the cover was a picture of a beautiful man – the King of Montenarro – and staring back at her were the same blue eyes from her girlhood dreams, if a little colder than she remembered.

That night she’d poured over the gossip rag and scoured the internet, waiting only until Anna went to bed before falling into a sinkhole of information. She read all about what he’d done since they had met, and how he’d stepped up to rule in a country that needed more than a little bit of hope. He was fair and wise and just, and passionate about making this country prosperous for all. Most recently he’d been working on his initiative to give all people in the country more say in government, and she thought that was admirable and knew how hard a task it must be. For years she’d watched and read the headlines, tracking his progress, while trying to avoid the speculation on things like his future and his love life. There was always talk about who the King would one day marry, and though Elsa knew she would be nothing but a forgotten blip in his past, it still hurt her to think of the boy who’d touched her heart belonging to another.

“Touched my heart,” she said aloud, scoffing with the foolishness of the thought. “As if I haven’t been secretly giving it to him for years. God, what a mess this all is.”

At confessing her feelings, which had mostly developed from afar, Elsa’s hands began to shake. Even if she’d thought of him often, it never in a million years occurred to her that they would ever reunite. But yesterday they had, and it was even more intense than she remembered. All day she felt his eyes on her, watching her every move. At all stages of the visit she could feel his presence, and it spun her whole world upside down. Never mind seeing him with the children, and watching him come out of his shell to offer them genuine affection. That had truly done her in, and almost made her forget herself. A few times they’d managed to speak, but Elsa always found an opportunity to run or to distract. She longed for that closeness, but was scared to death of letting someone – especially him – behind her many walls.

By the time she made her way back to her and Anna’s home, it was nearly time for Emma’s arrival and Elsa was nowhere closer to composure. She tried to breathe deeply, using some mindfulness to clear her thoughts, but her pulse was racing and her hands still shook. No matter – it was too late to run now. She had to face this head on. There was simply no other way.

A minute later she opened up the door, and within seconds, Anna was on her, enveloping her in a huge bear hug and prompting an emotional reaction in Elsa. Her sister was scared too, but Elsa could tell that underneath it all Anna was excited. She didn’t even need to see her face to know that there was relief in sharing their story. Anna had never liked living a lie, and the burden of it weighed on her always. Knowing that, Elsa hugged her back and whispered words of encouragement.

“It’s going to be all right, Anna. Remember what Mama used to say.”

“All you can do is the next right thing,” Anna replied shakily before nodding. “This is the right thing.”

Elsa had just enough time to agree before a knock sounded at the front door. “Are you ready?” Elsa asked and Anna nodded.

“I’m ready.”

“Okay, then let’s do this.”

………….

Sitting in the kitchen of Elsa and Anna’s small but charming house, Emma could practically taste the anxiety in the air. Whatever was going on with her friends was electric, and the room crackled with unsaid words Emma was increasingly eager to hear. Despite that, she could tell her friends needed a bit of an ice breaker, and she used one of her surest tactics to provide one.

“I’m sorry I’m a little later than we planned. Henry was on another level this morning. I love him more than anything, but he’s just so…”

“Helpful?” Anna offered.

“Curious?” Elsa countered.

“I was going more for something like ‘verbose.’ I swear he’s always got a dozen stories he can tell and today was no different. Actually, it was worse, because Killian was there last night, and you know how he gets with Killian.”

“He loves him,” Elsa said automatically, prompting Emma to smile warmly.

“He told Killian last night. It was so easy for him. He didn’t think twice, he just said exactly how he feels.”

“Oh, Emma,” Anna said, happily taking her hand after putting a tray of pastries on the counter. “That’s wonderful. What did Killian say?”

“That he loves him too.”

“I knew I liked that man for a reason,” Anna replied glibly. “Though, to be fair, it’s impossible not to love Henry. He’s the cutest, even if he hates me saying it.”

“Killian said something else too,” Emma said, waiting for Elsa to sit down with their tea. She watched her friends slightly shaky hands pour each of them a cup before spilling the beans. “He told me he sees a future, for us, the three of us. He said… well he said he loves me, and that no matter what he wants to be with me. Forever.”

The sounds of secondhand joy that came from both her friends made Emma even happier, though it also prompted a blush she’d been trying pretty hard to fend off.

“And what did you say?!”

“That I love him too.”

“Forever?”

“Definitely.”

“Oh my God, this is exactly what I needed today,” Anna said happily. “You don’t even know.” Belatedly it seemed to dawn on her – that was actually why Emma was here in the first place.

“I really don’t want to push, but it sounded yesterday like the two of you had something you really want to tell me. I promise whatever is said here, it’s between us. I’m still kind of new to the whole having good friends thing, but I can keep a secret.”

There was only a moment of silence between them before Elsa replied. She centered herself with a deep breath in to start and then let it out and looked directly at Emma. “You have to understand that all of her hesitation has nothing to do with you. We trust you. We do. It’s just been years of training ourselves to hide this part of our past, and keep the story in check so no one ever questions it.”

“Years?” Anna barked out hollowly. “More like our whole lives. Honestly, I barely remember a time without the secrets. It’s like they’ve always been here.”

“You’re right,” Elsa acknowledged, squeezing Anna’s hand gently. “This has been our burden to carry for as long as we can remember, and though time has passed, and we believe the physical threat is long behind us, old habits die hard.”

“Actually, in our case they don’t really seem to die at all,” Anna quipped. “You’re the first person we’ve ever told, and we can’t even seem to do that right. God, this is so hard. Why is this so hard?”

“Probably because there’s no easy way to say this,” Elsa admitted. Emma reached out for her hand in a show of comfort and Elsa looked up at her immediately. Emma wanted to assure her she was here to help, never to judge, and if they needed more time to make peace with their decision to share, that was fine too.

“Just tell me what you can. Start wherever you need to.”

Over the next hour, Emma patiently listened as they unfurled a truth that had been wrapped up tight for twenty years. They told her about their parents, two young Europeans who had met on foreign holiday. They were neither of them in their country of birth, and both eager to avoid the shackles of their real worlds, at least for a little while. Together they’d succeeded in doing this, and they had spent a week falling hopelessly in love with each other. From the way Elsa and Anna described it, Iduna and Agnar (yes, those were apparently their real names) had woven their strings together so tightly, the braid could not be broken.

The ‘problem’ stemmed from their father, for though he loved their mother endlessly, he had obligations – royal obligations. It turned out that Agnar was a Prince, of a nearby European principality that Emma had actually heard of. Arendelle was a small place, but it had undergone a revolution when she was a child, and even in the States there was endless conversation about it for a while. At first Emma was shocked, how was it possible that their Dad was a prince? But it took only a few moments for the surprise to dissipate. It explained why Elsa and Anna had always been so jumpy and yet very knowledgeable at multiple instances. It also explained why they were so hell-bent on keeping a secret, since the things Emma had heard about this country had hardly been positive.

According to Elsa and Anna, at the same time that Prince Agnar miraculously found love with their mother, his father, Runeard, had grown ill and passed away, leaving him as the heir apparent of the kingdom of Arendelle. Their father was eager for that role, and had been preparing for it all his life, until he was confronted with a truth that destroyed every plan he’d ever had. He could not remain the ruler of his country and pursue a life with the woman that he loved. He was bound as King to marry someone from a royal bloodline, and so he’d made a choice, to relinquish his crown and to hand it over to his younger brother. Their Uncle was a good man, and so they believed he would be a good King, but after a peaceful transition of power, and ten years of quiet where Elsa and Anna’s parents married, had children, and made a quiet country life for them all, something happened. Their Uncle had begun trusting the wrong people, and a coup had taken place. The palace was overrun, the royal family was imprisoned, and the country was thrust into darkness.

In the thick of that fighting, Elsa and Anna’s parents had also been targeted. They knew it was coming, as no coup could allow for anyone of the royal bloodline to live, but they didn’t have the time to all get out safely. Instead, their parents stayed behind as Elsa and Anna were taken with their father’s one-time nanny. She had lived with them all their lives, caring for them as if she were their own relation, and she brought them to France, through untraceable means, to the only other living relative they had left. Technically the older woman who became their lifeline was their father’s Aunt, but to them, she was forever Grandmere.

“It was a few weeks with Grandmere before we had confirmation that mother and father were gone,” Elsa said, sadness, even all these years, later taking hold of her quivering voice. Emma ached for her friend, and she couldn’t comprehend that kind of loss. She had never had parents at all, and that had been so painful in so many ways, but in some respects this was an even worse fate. “They were strong, and they protected us until the very end, but some battles simply can’t be won. Some heartbreaks cannot be avoided.”

“I’m so sorry, for both of you,” Emma said softly. “I cannot imagine the pain at knowing your parents and their goodness and then losing it like that.”

“It was difficult,” Anna agreed, “Especially being in a new country and having to hide who we were and basically stay at Grandmere’s estate all the time. But even when they passed, our parents were never truly gone. They’ve always been with us. Their love lives on in us, right Elsa?”

“Right,” Elsa agreed, offering a smile to her sister. “We stayed in France with Grandmere for years, and even though we were hurting, it was still a happy time. Grandmere adored us and spoiled us like any grandmother should. She gave us all the love and attention a person could stand, but she also took her role as our protector very seriously. As Anna said, we never really left the manor. It was a great estate, but for all intents and purposes we were under house arrest for years. We had private tutors for our schooling and no nanny except for Grandmere. The household staff were either sworn to secrecy or told an unassuming story about how we were two distant cousins who had fallen on hard times. The core of the story was true, of course. We had been orphaned through a series of tragic circumstances, but everything else was an illusion, including our names.”

Emma’s look of surprise had Anna clarifying quickly. “Our full names are Elisandra and Annadella, but our parents always called us Elsa and Anna. Those other names were family heirlooms, but these names were our truth. That’s what Mama used to say. Still those nicknames were a luxury we couldn’t afford when at our Grandmere’s. So we chose new ones. Selene for Elsa, and Soleil for me.”

“Totally different,” Emma said casually.

“They were,” Elsa agreed, “But they kept an important part of our story intact. My father called me his ‘little Luna’ since the night I was born, under a full blue moon. An ice-solstice, as it’s referred to in Arendellian tradition. It’s supposedly a sign of great fortune for babies born to be born on those rare nights. Meanwhile Anna was born at high noon on the sunniest, most beautiful day of the year. The kind of day that was a gift, as Papa would say. From that day forward, Anna became his ‘sunshine.”

“So let me guess, Selene means moon and Soliel means sun.”

“Yes. It was hard to get used to, but Grandmere helped us every step of the way. She was devoted to us completely, and in truth, I think she loved us as much as any mother could. She had no children of her own, but she had us, and thank God we had her.”

“But you never went out, you never left your home?”

“Not for a long time. Eventually we were allowed small indulgences. We went to Grandmere’s house in Paris every Christmas season for the shopping and the sights. We visited her sister, Aunt Josephina, on the Spanish coast in August, when the weather was hottest and the beach was pure bliss,” Anna acquiesced. “But we never went to school or sports or that kind of thing. All we really had was each other, until I made a dear friend in our next-door neighbor, Aurora. She didn’t know the truth about our past, but Grandmere fully trusted her parents. They were diplomats, and always had ample security. A few summers I was allowed to go for a week or two to their summer home. Elsa was always invited, but she preferred the quiet for a change, deciding to get lost in her reading instead of adventuring with me.”

Emma noticed that Elsa flinched slightly at the words, but it escaped Anna’s notice. Emma looked at her curiously, wondering if Elsa would comment on the claim, but when no words came from Elsa, she decided to ask some more directed questions. Emma wondered about what had happened to Arendelle and how they came to be in Montenarro. Arendelle, luckily, was much recovered from the tumult of the past. The heinous coup had been righted by the people, and a new democratic government instilled. Unfortunately, their Uncle had not made it through that dark time unscathed. He grew very ill while in confinement and died some years later. The country was now transitioning to a fully democratic state, but there was, at least reportedly, great respect amongst the public for the royals that were. Their parents and Uncle were highly regarded, with a memorial service each year held in honor of their bravery and dedication to the country. Whispers about whatever happened to Elsa and Anna, or if they had even existed remained, but it had been a long time since any real attention was paid to their fates.

Despite those changing tides, Elsa and Anna’s grandmother had always been hesitant in exposing the truth. She believed it wise not to open the door to a grand reveal. Why tempt fate when they could instead pursue, simpler, less complicated lives? Elsa and Anna had waivered at first, but ultimately decided that the best way to honor their parents was to do as they’d instructed – share their love and their abilities to make the lives of people who needed it better. Their personal experiences sparked their interest in working with orphaned children, and they both went to school to study in Paris, staying at their Grandmere’s home all the while. It was only after the unexpected death of their dear Grandmere that they’d decided on a change. The jobs here in Montenarro had been discovered, and the rest was history. Anna and Elsa had chosen their simple, balanced life, and they’d been keeping the secret all the while.

“So, I guess keeping the truth from the rest of the world now is less about any danger to your life, and more about your privacy. I can only imagine how it would go – the press discovering two long lost princesses who lived through that kind of turmoil. It would be…” Emma trailed off and Anna filled in.

“A nightmare.”

Now there was no denying the reaction from Elsa, and in truth, it looked like her friend had been struck by something. She was suddenly pale, and clearly agitated, and Emma suspected it was all to do with a certain King who’d paid her extra mind upon his visit to the Center yesterday.

“Elsa, are you all right?” Anna asked, pulling Elsa in from her own wandering thoughts. Still she looked almost haunted, and was unable to convince either Anna or Emma that she was well.

“I’m fine,” she said, but the whispered words were hardly reaffirming.

“You are definitely not fine. Elsa, you’re white as a sheet.”

“I’m always pale, you know that,” Elsa tried to joke but it was a pitiful attempt at humor.

“Elsa, seriously. What’s wrong?” Anna asked, looking, for the first time all day, actually afraid. That distress in her sister’s eyes prompted Elsa to hug Anna fiercely, and admit an unexpected truth for both Anna and Emma.

“I have to tell you something. Something I never told you.”

“Okay,” Anna agreed quickly, with nothing like anger in her expression. “You know you can tell me anything. Anything at all.”

This time the revelations shared were questioned mostly by Anna, though Emma had questions as well. Who wouldn’t, given the surprise twist in an already surprising tale?

It turned out that in one of those times where Anna was traveling with her friend, Elsa had gone with their Grandmere back to Paris. One afternoon they received an invitation from their grandmother’s oldest friend for a garden party. With Elsa now 16, it was their grandmother’s belief that she was ready for such an event. Elsa promised to keep to her story and mind her manners, but when she arrived, she was so nervous about doing or saying the wrong thing that she wandered off, away from the party all together. Deep within the hedgerow she’d met a young man who was also hiding. The bond of shared discomfort and an instant attraction made for a magical day where young love had a chance to bloom. At the time Elsa knew him only as Liam, and while she had planned to ask her Grandmere for more information on him, the old woman was in a state of panic when they finally reunited. It turned out more people were there than she ever realized, including some who could have discovered the secret. Elsa saw how much relief her Grandmere felt when she fibbed and said she’d been alone out in the gardens, she hadn’t the heart to tell her the truth. The lie was typical, especially for a teenager, but it was clear it still ate away at Elsa.

“I felt awful keeping it from her. I kept trying to get up the courage to confess, but then you came home early after Aurora broke her ankle on her horse, and the summer ended, and nothing ever came of it,” Elsa said, looking to Anna. “Eventually I came to believe that even if he seemed remarkable to me, he was just a boy. Our secret was still safe, and I had had my day in the sun.”

“So you didn’t realize who he was?” Emma asked and Elsa shook her head.

“It never came up,” Elsa asserted. “He only referred to himself as Liam. He told me he was seventeen and that his mother knew our hostess and that was it. I didn’t ask questions. Well, not about those kinds of things. We talked for hours, about everything and nothing. I didn’t have the time for basic details.”

The feeling was familiar to Emma. When she first met Killian, she felt the same way. They were so busy connecting with each other, so busy feeling the spark between them, that the words almost seemed to matter less. Knowing that Elsa had experienced that explained every part of her reaction yesterday, from the barely veiled interest to the severe trepidation every time she was within touching distance of the King.

“But when did you know the truth of who he was, Elsa? Please, please tell me it wasn’t just yesterday,” Anna begged, surprising both Elsa and Emma with her acceptance of the story and genuine want for Elsa to not have been blind-sided.

“It wasn’t,” Elsa admitted. “I found out when we first came to interview here. I saw a picture in the paper and I knew. I should have told you then, Anna, I know I should have, but we both felt it, our calling to this place. I swear it was like Mama and Papa brought us here. There were all those signs, and that feeling we just hadn’t had since we were kids. I thought that if I shared the truth we’d have to leave, and I couldn’t do that, to you or to me.”

“I’m so glad you didn’t,” Emma admitted. “Perhaps that makes me selfish, but I know for a fact how much staying has meant not just for me but for the kids. This place is like one big family, and it’s thanks to you two. It wouldn’t be the same without you.”

“I comforted myself with that thought for years. We were making a difference, we were using the magic Mama taught me about. But that doesn’t mean what I did was right. I shouldn’t have kept it from Anna, and now we may have no choice but to run.”

“No choice but to run?” Anna parroted, astounded at the idea. “Elsa, what are you talking about? We are not running. You are definitely not running!”

“We’re not?”

“Absolutely not. And you know why? Because this is love, Elsa. If yesterday is anything to go off of, and if your day together years ago was even half as romantic as you described, it’s full blown, love at first sight, once in a lifetime stuff. And you want to talk about signs? How about the fact that we could have landed anywhere in the world for work – we had no limits and no plan – and we ended up here, in the same place where Liam is King. The chances were so slim, I know that was Mama and Papa’s doing.”

Tears had spilled onto Elsa’s cheeks at Anna’s declaration, but it didn’t stop Anna from continuing on, even though her own eyes were misting over with the emotion of it all. “Our parents would never ever want you to run from love, Elsa, and neither do I. You deserve it, and here it is, back again after years of being parted. You’ve never really connected with anyone else, and I thought it was just a matter of waiting for the right man to come along, but now I know you were waiting for him again.”

“But it’s hopeless, Anna. He is the King.”

“So? You’re a princess.”

“A princess in hiding. A princess who’s story belongs squarely in the past. I can’t ask him to keep the secret, but I also can’t keep it from him. I’m caught up in this web I can’t get out of, and Liam is too honorable. He would never deceive his people like that. I wouldn’t ever ask him to.”

“So we let the secret go,” Anna said adamantly. “It’s simple Elsa. We just tell the truth.”

“You don’t mean that,” Elsa replied earnestly.

“I do.”

“You just said it would be a nightmare.”

“That was before I realized our alternative, and believe me, Elsa, there is no question of which is worse. If giving up obscurity and facing the press is what it takes to get you your love, it will be the easiest decision I ever make.”

“That’s assuming he even wants me,” Elsa said prompting Emma to chime in.

“Oh, he wants you. Believe me, and if you don’t believe me, then believe Killian. He talked about it most of the night, and he knows his brother better than anyone.”

“Maybe he wants me, but he doesn’t know everything, and I have no idea how he’ll take it.”

“Well there’s only one way to find out,” Anna said, standing up and pulling Elsa with her. “You have to tell him.”

“Now?” Elsa squawked, looking at Emma for help and Emma intervened.

“Let me call, Killian. He’s at the palace today. He can help us figure out a time.” No sooner had she said the words than her fingers were making the call. It rang only twice before the sexiest voice she knew picked up.

“Miss me already, Swan?”

“Something like that. Listen, I’m here with Elsa and Anna and I think it would be good if Elsa and Liam talked.”

Emma heard murmuring and then something that sounded like the phone banging on a table. She flinched from the sound, but then heard Killian once more. “Sorry, love. Suffice it to say my brother is enthused by the prospect.”

“When?” Emma asked, and she heard a resounding ‘Now!’ from the background. It was Liam’s voice and it prompted a smile for Emma. Elsa and Anna looked at her curiously as Killian responded.

“The sooner the better it seems.”

“Okay, so in an hour then?”

“Aye.” Again there was fussing on the other line, and it sounded like someone was pacing, until Killian spoke once more. “Might I suggest my place, so they may have some privacy.”

“Perfect,” Emma agreed. “She’ll be there.”

“Brilliant,” Killian quipped, “And Emma?”

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” she murmured, hanging up and putting her phone away in her pocket.

“And?” Anna asked.

“He wants to meet at Killian’s in an hour.”

“So soon?!” Elsa asked and Emma laughed.

“By the sounds of thing, an hour may as well be an eternity in Liam’s eyes.”

“He’s not the only one,” Anna agreed drawing Emma and Elsa’s gazes immediately. “What? Oh, come on, Emma, like you aren’t totally excited to see what happens. The suspense is practically killing me.”

“It may actually kill me,” Elsa said, putting her hand to her heart.

“It’s going to be all right,” Emma insisted, prompting Elsa to look up at her with hopeful but still skeptical eyes. “Don’t ask me how I know, but I do. I can just tell.”

“See!” Anna said excitedly. “And you know Emma’s gut is legendary. She can sense these things.”

“She didn’t sense Killian was a prince,” Elsa replied, not in a mean way, but as a frantic response from someone currently dealing with a lot.

“Touché,” Emma said with a laugh. “But I did know he was it for me. So, let me put it this way: I don’t know exactly how it will happen, but I do know you and Liam are going to work things out. Is that better?”

“Only if you really mean it,” Elsa whispered.

“I do,” Emma said softly.

“Ok,” Elsa agreed after a moment’s pause, straightening her spine in a show of determination. “Ok, I’ll do it.”

And with that the three of them set out to help Elsa get ready, knowing today would be a turning point, and that soon a much-needed conversation would lay it all out there once and for all.

Post-Note: Not going to lie, this chapter took SO long to craft, partially because of my muse being fussy, but mostly because, in the end, I needed two chapters to do this whole bit justice. I know I am leaving you on a bit of a cliff hanger, but I promise that next chapter we get the entirety of the Elsa/Liam story, and some added CS scenes to boot. Anyway, I really do hope that you enjoyed this chapter, and that it brightened your day, even if there were parts that were a bit sad. I love seeing what you all think, and knowing so many of you have enjoyed reading so far. I am still pretty busy with other things at the moment, but I promise to do my best to get an update written soon. Hope to see you next time, until then, hoping you are safe, healthy, and well!

#captain swan #captain swan fic #captain swan ff #cs fic #cs ff #cs fluff #cs smut #emma swan #killian jones #ouat fic #ouat fluff #frozen jewel #frozen jewel au #elsa and liam #feels like this #feels like this au #feels like this 11 #cs royals au #Modern Royalty AU #CS modern AU #cs au fic

[ronie63]

Stay Strong

          Normally, I don’t like voicing my opinion, especially when it comes to politics, because people either don’t listen, don’t care, or ready to attack you for voicing what you think. But this isn’t about simple politics anymore or who’s right or wrong. With the threat of nuclear war becoming more and more a possibility, I feel as if I need to say something just this once. Even if no one will listen or think I’m crazy and stupid.

          You don’t need to be a train psychic to feel the energy of fear, despair, and anger looming all around us. It’s that strong, and it’s something I haven’t felt since the beginning of 2020 where Covid was starting to take hold on us, and we all had to stay home and away from each other. In fact, this feels so much worse.

           I understand that people are scared, confused, and angry with what’s currently going on in the world. I certainly am, and we should be. Nobody, but power-hungry fools, wants this war and take it somewhere that’s too frightening to even think about. It is that very reason why we need to stand up more than ever. The reason why someone like me, who normally always stay quiet and in the shadows is coming out now.

           Please, stay strong and fight back. And I don’t mean fight back in a way that can lead towards nuclear war, but the exact opposite. Now more than ever, we need to stand together to do what we can to ensure that doesn’t happen. And to those that feels it’s pointless or trying to ignore the current state of affairs; don’t. Don’t pretend that everything will sort itself out or that your efforts don’t matter. Because that’s very much not true. Your words and actions do carry weight and power, no matter how small they may seem. Use those feelings of fear and anger towards something that can help turns things around. If you can donate, then donate. If can go out and protest, then protest. If you’re like me, and all you can do is spread awareness, then do it. Do whatever you can to ensure that we don’t ever see a nuclear fallout.

           Another issue that concerns me is all the negativity that we are feeling. There is nothing wrong with feeling sad, angry, and afraid, but we can’t let those feelings turn into blind misguided rage, hatred, or nihilism. Believe me. I get it. I understand that pained feeling and using it to lash out, especially to those who hurt us in the first place. But speaking as someone who made that stupid mistake before, it has never made the situation better. Our current events are too delicate and complicated to treat them as black and white problems with black and white solutions. By all means, be angry, sad, and afraid, but don’t let those feelings consumes you to the point where you can’t see or listen to reason. That you would incite for more harsh and drastic measures to fix our problems. It’s that sort of thinking that brought us into this ugly situation in the first place.

           One final thing I want to get off my chest, and I can’t stress this enough, is that it’s okay to still smile and laugh. To those who’s trying to take a moment in these dark times to enjoy themselves and feeling guilty about it, it’s okay. Even though I just explain why we should be feeling angry and scared, that doesn’t mean we can’t be happy too. It's dark times like these that we should be smiling the brightest. It helps alleviate the pain we are feeling and creates hope, and hope is something we desperately need right now. Hope is what gives us the means to keep fighting for our future. So, when you are out there doing what you can to help prevent this upcoming disaster, don’t forget to take the time to relax and smile while also helping others to smile too.

         Maybe you think everything I said is just nonsense, and maybe you’re right. I am just a simple nobody that doesn’t even compare to all the brave men, women, and children affected by this war and other tragedies happening around the world. Maybe I really don’t know what I’m talking about, but I could no longer go on and hold my thoughts and feelings in. Staying quiet and hidden no longer cuts it for me anymore, so I had to say something. So thank you to all willing to listen to my cheesy rambles, even if you believe I’m being silly and dumb. I’d rather be seen as that then someone who stood in the background and did nothing.  

        Remember; stay safe, stay strong, and don’t forget to keep smiling.  

#ukraine #russia #nuclear war #fallout #ww3 #war #standwithukraine #united we stand #politics #protest