#most of the time when its just sadness it turns to anger really fast

[lillylvjy]

wait- ghost?!

a/n- hey! Long time- um. Here’s the ghost au! I had no clue what to title this so, I may change it in a little bit! But this will be a series, I already have part 2 done! Hopefully people like this- but yeah! Enjoy!

Warnings// death, murder, ghost, knife (also being thrown), blood mentioned once, brief mention of reader being short (they just can’t reach something), Wilbur being a flirt, Tommy being Tommy, mentions of food and if there’s anything else, please tell me!

Edited- yes!

wc- 1.3k

You were new to the neighborhood, so no wonder why people were looking out their windows when you arrived with a moving van. Or maybe it’s because someone actually wanted to live in the house that everyone avoided because of its past.

A couple years ago, a man in his early 20’s, along with his brother, got brutally murdered in the same exact house you were now standing in. And it was yours. Nothing seemed off, but you can definitely feel a sense of sadness and anger. ‘From what?’ people may ask, but you didn’t really know yourself. All you know is that the parents moved across the world after the incident, wanting to get far away from the place that caused them so much hurt. Which is understandable.

But here you were. In that house, standing in the middle of an empty, soon to be, living room. Smiling at the ideas running through your head as you started unboxing things.

You had drug all the furniture in and placed them randomly around the room for now until you got to decorating.

You quickly made work as you unboxed everything for the bathroom, your bedroom, and anything else you had for the time being. You saved the kitchen for last, knowing that’d take you the most time with how much stuff you have from your parents and other family members.

As you started to unpack all the kitchenware you had, you quickly were made aware of your surroundings.

“Well hello!” You jumped as you heard a deep, british voice come from behind you. Quickly grabbing a knife from the holder on the counter, you turned around to see a man, brown curly hair sitting on top of his head with a grey crewneck and black jeans on, probably somewhere in his early 20’s, smiling at you.

“Who- who are you?!” You asked, pointing the knife at him as to defend yourself. Yet all he did was laugh and shake his head.

“You don’t know who I am?! Also sweetheart, you can put that down. That won’t do anything for you.” The man said as he stood up from the chair he sat in, standing taller than you thought he would, pointing at the knife. Before he could take another steps forward, you threatened him once more.

“I swear- I’m not afraid to use this! Don’t come any further!” You shakingly told the tall man in front of you.

“Darling I promise that won’t do anything-“ as he started to take another step forward, you threw the knife at him. The knife ended up lodged into his stomach. He froze and looked at you with the most disappointed face you’ve ever seen.

“Ow? Seriously sweetheart, what do you want me to say?!” He questioned as he took the knife out of his stomach. It was clean. He was clean. No blood on the knife nor soaking up his shirt.

“What the hell-“ you said as you looked at him with wide eyes and furrowed eyebrows.

“Don’t look so scared! It’s not as bad as it looks, I promise.” The guy tried to joke but you just shook your head and rubbed your eyes, wanting to get out of this fucked up dream.

“This isn’t real, this isn’t real-“ you repeated as you turned towards the sink and splashed water on your face.

“What’s not real? Me?! Because let me tell me you darling-“ you quickly jumped back from the sink, now seeing the stranger sitting on the counter next to it. “Don’t be so jumpy love, I don’t bite- I mean, unless you want me too.”

You rolled your eyes and quickly shook your head to gather your thoughts. “Ok- you better explain what’s going on and fast.”

The man sighed and hoped down from the counter. “How about introductions first yeah? We got off at the wrong foot. I’m William Watson-Gold. You may call me Wilbur or Wil, either is fine.” Wilbur said as he stepped closer to you. You moved back, bumping into the island and grasping the counter as if it’d protect you from this super attractive man in front of you. “What’s your name sweetness?” He smirked as he leant down to meet your eyes.

“Y/n.” You replied with a monotoned voice, not wanting him to know the effect he had on you so fast.

Wilbur’s smirk turned into one of a smile in ways. His eyes stared into yours as almost to examine who you were and what your backstory was. Like he wanted to get to know you. But he quickly snapped out of his head and took a few steps back, the smirk being thrown back on his face as he looks in the living room.

“You can come out now Tom.” Wil yelled out as you quickly turned to the entrance of the kitchen.

“Fucking finally- you need to stop flirting with them! It’s very uncomfortable to watch!” The boy, Tom, complained as he hopped onto the island counter.

“Ok- what the fuck?!” You yelled as you waved your hands around, trying to figure out what was going on in your home.

“Wait- do they not know we’re-“

“Dead? No, I haven’t gotten there yet. Now continuing my explanation- Me and Tom here are the two unfortunate men that got murdered in this house. We’ve been stuck in this shit hole ever since with very little human interaction besides each other.” Wilbur explained as he leant against the refrigerator.

“Which is why he’s being so flirty with yo- ow!” Tom yelled out as Wilbur punched his arm and glared at him.

“So- you two are, dead?”

“As dead as dead gets.” Wilbur said as he picked up one of the apples you just placed in the fruit bowl and bit into it. “Fuck- I forget how good food taste sometimes!”

“Wait-“ you went up to Wilbur and grabbed his hands, feeling the coldness his body carried with him. You were thinking your hand would go right through him like the shows portray- but your hand stayed perfectly in his. Wilbur would never admit it, but it felt like your hand was meant to be in his. Like it was a puzzle piece that fit perfectly together. “Then how can I touch you? Isn’t my hand supposed to like- go through you or some shit?”

“Stupid movies. No. That shit isn’t real! But us- we are as real as it gets.” Tom said as he took a bite out of the apple Wil stole.

You nodded as you slowly let go of Wilbur’s hand, looking up at him to see his eyes furrowed and almost saddened at the thought of losing that warmth you provided him.

As you both continued to look at each other, not wanting to let the serene moment go, Tom noticed the silence and looks up at the two. Rolling his eyes, his hopped of the counter and stood in between the two and turned to look at Wilbur.

“I’m going to my room- it finally has a bed again and I need my beauty sleep. And for god sake Wil, STOP FLIRTING!” Tom yelled down the stairs. Wilbur scoffed as he looked down at the floor, hiding his face from as it turned red.

“Um- so you guys are just going to be here? With me?” You asked as you went back to unloading everything. Wilbur cleared his throat as he looked back up at you, seeing how you struggled to get the cup on the highest shelve. He smiled and went over to you, grabbing the cup and placing it for you. “Thanks.”

“Yeah, no problem. And yeah, unfortunately. But! We can be somewhat fun! At least you won’t be alone.” Wilbur stated as he moved out of the room and turned to look at you. “I’ll let you be for now darling. Just call my name if you need anything.” Wilbur nodded his head as he walked towards the stairs, disappearing once he passed the wall.

He did have a point. At least you won’t be alone. That was the one thing that worried you.

But , how the hell are you supposed to live with two-

Ghost.

taglist: @deadphantomsociety @jadeissues @sixofshadowandbone @z3ro-to-h3ro @gaytoadwithapopsicle @art3m1s-adelia @mcr-pr-fob @romancingdaffodils @swevenne @maarriiii @ella-fella-bo-bella @opheliq @mysticalsoot @anon-duck (if you wanna be added, all ya have to do is ask lovelies!)

#lilly writes #wilbur soot #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot imagine #dsmp wilbur #wilburfromlvjy #wilbur x reader #wilbur x you #wilbur mcyt #x reader

[heartsfromjeanee]

I'll Be Home For Christmas

Jake Lockley x Reader, Steven Grant x Reader, Marc Spector x Reader

Summary: A week before Christmas Jake gets called to go on a mission and promises the three of them will be back by Christmas, but when the day comes, they're still nowhere in sight a/n: I made this set in New York just because it helped fit the story better :)

As every year, Christmas was right around the corner, only a week away, and you couldn’t be more ecstatic. Christmas was your favorite time of year because of all the joy and happiness it brought with it, and this year would be the first time you would spend it with the boys you love so very much.

Although he never really celebrated Christmas, Marc found your holiday to be spirit to be adorable, as did Steven and Jake. Within the beginning of the month, you had done the most Christmassy activities you could possibly think of, ranging from building gingerbread houses to a Christmas movie marathon.

As you made your way home to your shared flat, tonight you had in mind to attempt to bake cookies with the boys, but as you may your way in, you were confused to hear quick and loud footsteps echoing throughout the house. You knew for a fact that Jake was the one to usually walk louder than the others, but never so fast as you heard now.

“Jake? What are you doing over there?” You called out to him, making your way towards the sound of his stomps.

He had been in your shared bedroom, all dressed up in his gear he usually wore when heading to his cab and a duffel bag that contained his weapons sat on the bed. He had a scowl on his face until he turned to look at you, his expression softening.

“Princesa,” Jake paused for a moment and gulped, knowing you weren’t going to take the news very well. Khonshu assigned him a mission that was ‘too urgent to delay’ and that it was imperative that he left as soon as possible. “I’m so very sorry, mi amor, pero tengo que ir. I must leave.”

Your eyes widened and if it was physically possible you sworn your heart would have actually cracked.

“W-What? Jake, are you kidding? But Christmas is just a week away! Can’t you tell big bird over there to just fuck off for once?” You frowned, looking at him with a mix of sadness and anger in your eyes. Jake’s breath hitched slightly, and his mouth formed a thin line. He was never much good with dealing with others’ emotions and didn’t want to say the wrong thing to make the situation shittier than it already was.

“C’mere,” He stepped closer toward you, sliding his hands around your waist and bringing you in close enough that your chests were directly touching. “Khonshu promised me that the mission should only take me a few days, and then I’ll be back home with you. Quierda, I promise you; I’ll be home for Christmas.” With those words he placed a soft kiss upon your forehead, while a silent tear rolled down your cheek. Jake frowned, sliding his hands away from its place on your waist and moving it up to caress your face, his thumb wiping the tear away.

“Please, please don’t go.” Your voiced trembled as you looked up into his eyes. Jake felt his throat begin to tighten, taking that as the sign that he soon was going to be on the verge of tears, and he didn’t want you to see that.

The room was silent for a moment, and you took that as a conformation that he wasn’t going to back out his decision, so you quickly wrapped your arms around him and buried your head into his chest and let out a soft sob. Jake once again wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled his head into the top of yours, breathing in your scent which always seemed to comfort him.

After a while of holding, you and letting your emotions out, he finally managed to bring himself to let go of you, leaning down to place a farewell kiss onto your lips. He then moved over to the bed, grabbing his duffel bag, turning back once more to look at you.

“I promise, quierda. I promise you.” He stated once more, which you only responded with a slight nod, not having the strength to muster anymore words to him. Jake then walked out of the room, and you just stood there, until you heard the front door close, confirming he had left, making your heart shatter all over again.

That promise seemed closer to being broken as the days go by. It was now Christmas Eve, where you now sat in the flat alone, curled up on the couch with a cup of hot chocolate in your hands.

That night you sat on your bed and cried. You yourself thought that maybe you were just overreacting, but you had been looking forward to this month all year, and now it felt as though it was being ripped away from you. You knew how missions for Khonshu went, they were unpredictable. He never seemed to tell the full truth and just manipulated the boys into doing what he wanted. Even though Jake said that Khonshu promised he would be home, you can’t help but think that he might have only said it convince Jake to do his bidding.

Sniffling, you glanced at the clock. 12:02 am. Christmas. No Marc. No Steven. No Jake. Out of spite, you swung your hand at the clock, and it flung onto the floor with a crash, pieces of it scattering on the floor. You grabbed the pillow next to you, which the boys normally slept on, and curled up against it and shut your eyes. You didn’t want a Christmas anymore, you just wanted to spend the rest of the entire day in bed, pretending the holiday didn’t exist.

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

Walking home down the streets of New York at 2 in the morning was not what Marc had in mind on Christmas morning. He was cold, tired, and would murder Jake if he could for accepting the dumbass mission from Khonshu if they didn’t share a body.

(Y/N)’s going to hate us, what are we going to tell her? This is so bad, very very very bad. How could we do this!

“We, didn’t do anything, this is all Jake’s fault.” Marc grumbled to himself.

My fault? My fault! Please do tell me, who was the one who accepted being Khonshu's avatar again? You might have as well just let us die if-

“We got out of that deal! I didn’t even know you existed! Steven and I do not work for Khonshu anymore, this, is on you.”

Marc got strange stares from the still many people that were still on the streets this late at night. It was true that New York City really was the city that never slept. After Marcs outburst, the headspace was silent for a while. Marc still had a good 30 minutes before he would reach your apartment and was still trying to think of a way of making up the lost time to you when he got back.

Glancing around at his surroundings, he spotted a man dressed up as Santa, standing with a bell and a bucket, probably for some charity. That’s when an idea sparked in his mind.

Mate, you're not actually going to-

“Shut it.” Marc inturrupted, before taking a deep breath and heading towards the man.

“Ho, Ho, Ho! Merry Christmas-” The dressed-up man cheered out before Marc butted in.

“Hello…Santa Sir. Uh, how much do ya think I could buy that costume off of you for?”

“I’m sorry young man but the costume not for sale-”

“100?”

“As I said, not for sale.”

“150.”

“…200 and you’ve got a deal.”

Marc rolled his eyes but pulled out two crisp hundred dollar bills out of his pocket.

Buddy, that better not be my money from working the cabby.

Marc handed the money to the man, and then watched as the man took off the jacket, pants, hat, and beard, leaving him with just some jeans and a sweater underneath. He handed the items to Marc.

“You have a kid at home you're trying to surprise?” The man asked out of curiosity.

“No, just a girlfriend that I’m praying doesn’t kick me out.” Marc stated before walking away without letting the other man get another word in. You surely wouldn’t kick Santa out on Christmas, would you?

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

Marc entered the apartment as quietly as he possibly could and prayed that you wouldn’t still be awake at this hour. To his relief, all the lights were off, signaling that you must have been fast asleep in your bed. Closing the door behind him, he found his way over to the couch and began to put on the costume, fake beard and everything. He then made his way into the bathroom to go check himself out in the mirror.

We look ridiculous.

Ridiculous enough that she might have mercy on us, mate.

Marc let out a sigh, losing any dignity he may have had as he stared at himself in the costume. Now that he had the costume on, he had to grab the present he had for you in his closet. The only problem was that the closet was in your shared bedroom, and he was deathly afraid he would wake you up before he could grab it.

Exiting the bathroom, he made his was over to the bedroom and slowly opened up the door. He frowned at the sight he saw before him. Even though it was dark, he could see the way you were curled up into his pillow, no blankets even on top of you. He also managed to see the clock that used to be on your nightstand scattered on the floor.

He had to rip his eyes away from the scene so he could bring himself to go towards his closet to grab the gift. Everything seemed to be going smoothly, until his perception managed to be a bit off and he ended up slamming his side into one of the dressers that had been against the wall.

“Motherfucker!” He yelped out in pain, grabbing his side that had already been bruised up from the mission he had been on.

Within a moment, you jumped up from the sudden noise and turned to turn the lamp on to see what was going on. Your eyes squinted for a moment trying to adjust to the sudden brightness to see the figure standing in your room was…

“Santa?” Your hoarse voice rang out as you tried to comprehend what in the hell was going on.

“Surprise?” Santa said back to you, and in an instant, you knew that wasn’t just any Santa, that was your boyfriends dressed up as him. You had no clue whether you wanted to start screaming and interrogating them for being gone for so long or start laughing at how ridiculous they looked.

Suppressing the smile that threatened to form, you asked while crossing your arms, “Now who’s idea was this?”

Marc walked towards you, “Mine. I know that you were going to be absolutely livid about us taking so long that I thought this might lighten the mood a bit. I spent a ridiculous amount of money on the costume, so please tell me it’s working.”

“I…I am genuinely speechless.”

“In a good or bad way?”

“Undecided.”

Marc frowned and sat himself on the edge of the bed next to you.

“Hey, we did technically keep our promise, it’s Christmas, isn’t it? And we’re home here with you.” He said place a hand on your cheek.

A small smile formed onto your face, and you sighed. “Ok yes technically, but I still wish you had been home sooner. I missed you so much.”

“Believe me, we all missed you more. I could’ve killed Jake for accepting the mission.” After finishing his sentence, Marcs eyes closed for a moment before opening up a bit wider. You could instantly tell that Steven was fronting now. He moved his head towards yours and gave you a sweet kiss before pulling away.

“Oh love, I missed doing that. Oh! Hold on we have a present to give you!” Steven exclaimed and you giggled at his excitement. Quickly, he got up and ran over to the closet, this time successfully getting the gift that Marc failed to do. He walked back over to you with a rectangular box that had a bow on top of it.

“Merry Christmas darling.” He said as he placed the gifts into your hands. You carefully took the top of the box off and revealed the gold necklace that had a circular charm with a crescent moon engraved into it.

“Honey it’s beautiful!” You placed the box onto the bed next to you for moment, and then moved so you could wrap your arms around Steven, “Thank you so much, all of you. I love you all so much.” You mumbled as he wrapped his arms around you as well.

“So…just to clarify, you’re not mad at us querida?” Jake chimed in as he pulled apart of the hug for a moment so he could see your face. You giggled and shook your head.

“No, not mad. Though no one's getting anymore kisses until you take that goddamn beard off, it irritates my face.”

“What don’t you like some facial hair? I think I’d look dashing with a mustache you know.” Jake stated as he began to take off the hat and fake beard.

“Yes Jake, you’ve told us all…multiple times.”

“And I’m still right. You’ll see.”

Jake, you grow a mustache and I swear I’ll kill us all.

Jake, please don’t grow a mustache I would really prefer to stay alive.

You yawned, still exhausted over all your worrying from hours before. “C’mon Santa, get in bed so I can snuggle you…huh, that’s a sentence I’d never thought I’d say.”

Jake chuckled, now stripped down to just his boxers. He went to his side of the bed and pulled the covers down, then placing them on top of you both. You immediately snuggled up to his side, craving the warmth his body also seemed to manage to give you on these chilly winter nights.

#Jake Lockley x reader #Marc Spector X reader #Steven Grant x Reader #Jake lockly x reader #Jake Lockley x you #Marc Spector x you #Steven grant x you #Moonknight x reader #Steven Grant fan fic #Jake Lockley fan fic #Marc Spector Fan fic #Moonknight Fan fic #Moonknight

[manias-wordcount]

hiya! i really love your writing and i was wondering if you could do something about ramuda amemura w/ a s/o that lacks self worth/is struggling with mental health issues? they would be a lot like him as well, except they put on a lot of different sides for diff people/groups of people, and their true self is still unknown to them cause of the self manipulation, but theyre a rather soft hearted, kind, and insecure person in general. theyve had a long a rocky past, from being verbally/physically abused by parents, to being excluded at school. theyre also quite good at bottling up their emotions as well, so maybe the scene would start in the middle of a silent panic attack? (although he can tell cause mutual trust and dating for a while) if you arent comfy w/ this, i completely understand (its just a silly rq to help me cope im sorry dndbdjdnd), so please dont pressure yourself! ty for your time and have an amazing day/night!

Just Breathe (Ramuda Amemura x Reader)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗴𝗼!

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚!!! 𝗱𝗲𝘁𝗮𝗶𝗹𝗲𝗱 𝗱𝗲𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗮 𝗽𝗮𝗻𝗶𝗰 𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗮𝗰𝗸. 𝘃𝗮𝗴𝘂𝗲 𝗱𝗲𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝘀𝗼𝗰𝗶𝗮𝗹, 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗹, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗱𝗵𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝘂𝗺𝗮. 𝗽𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗰𝗲𝗲𝗱 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

When you feel like you’re dying, you don’t like to be touched. 

  Even when you start to tremble. Even you feel find yourself silently slinking out of the room with your breaths running short and your eyes growing wide. Even as your heart beats and beats and  beats  against your chest as you look for a quiet place to hide away and exist. Even as your vision starts to blur with tears and you become dizzier and dizzier until the second you’re able to fall onto the ground. And  especially  when you start to grow scared. When you start to grow confused. When you start to  choke , you don’t like to be touched. You can’t be touched. You don’t  want  to be touched. You don’t want that to die. But you don’t want that to be the thing that kills you either.

  And yet…

  “Deep breath in…”

  …you still choose to let him in.

  “...deep breath out. And again. Here we go-”

  Most of the time, you could listen to Ramuda talk and hum and sing to you all day long. Oddly enough, this is one of those times. But as you sit on the hard pavement of a random back alleyway in Shibuya, tucked in between trashcans and forgotten pieces of junk, you find that no matter how hard you try, you just can’t focus. You just can’t  breathe . And you’re trying. You’re trying really, really, really,  really  hard to. You want to do what he says. You want to feel better. You don’t want to make him feel worried for you. But it’s  hard . It’s  hard,  and you hate it. You hate it, and you’re  scared . You’re scared, and you don’t want to  die.  

  It’s fear that boils up first in moments like these. Fear that hits you heavy and hits you hard as it overpowers all else in your mind overflowing so, so  much . Anger and Sadness fight to be tasted. Two strong flavors. Two strong emotions. They fight for who is next behind fear. They fight for who is more powerful. In the moment. For all time. But exhaustion? Exhaustion waits its turn. It has laid claim to the aftertaste. Soon it will lay claim to you. And right after? You know it won’t be death. You know it won’t be. 

  But it feels that way. 

  It feels like it’ll be something close to death. It feels like something worst than terror and nightmares itself. It feels that way so, so much right now. That you’re going to die in just a second. That you’re going to gasp on your last exhale. Choke on your inhale. Tears will be streaming down your face, but your body feels too warm, your heart beats too fast, and your body shakes too much, and you’ll  die.  Right here, and right now. With your hands in his. And his hands and yours. 

  You sob.

  “ Shh, shh…it’s okay,”  In an instant, Ramuda is shushing you. Your cries are quiet. You’ve learned to hide your tears well. You knew you would be punished if you did anything else. But that last cry cuts through the air like a knife. It pains you so. It squeezes at your throat with the stress. It squeezes at your heart with the fear. And then before you know it, it swallows up your everything in silence once more. To hide your emotions. To cover up your fears. And to do so much more. “We’ll get through this. We have each other. So breathe with me, okay?”

  You want to. You want to tell him that too. You want to tell him how you want nothing more but to breathe out the same air he fills his lungs with. You want to tell him how you want to follow his every order- his every direction- because you know much he cares for you. You want to.

  But a quiet sob mixed in between a deep inhale is all you can muster. A pitiful sound. Nothing short of a mere hiccup as your lips try to move. They try to make a sound. And when it doesn’t work out the first time, they try again. And again. And again. And again until all they can do is part in desperation to let out another cry. 

  Somehow your abusers of times past have claimed your tongue as their own. 

They’ve silenced you. They’ve silenced you and they’re not even here. They’ve silenced you and they haven’t paid for it yet. For your pain. For your suffering. For their sins. For their transgressions.

  You deserve better than this. You deserve more than this.  Words so easy to say. Words so hard to  mean . You can’t convince yourself of that message. You can’t promise yourself that you weren’t meant to be hurt. But that’s the thing. You don’t want to hurt. You don’t want to die. You don’t want this to be the end. You don’t want to choke. You don’t want to cry. You want to breathe. You want to smile. You want peace, not suffering. You want laughter, not anger. Your happiness, not sadness. But most of all?

  “Another deep breath in. We’ll be okay. I promise we’ll be okay.” 

  You hold your hands in his. He holds your hands in yours. You want him instead. 

  “I’ll do my best to protect you, I swear. So just breathe with me, alright?”

  You want him instead.

   It takes a couple of seconds, but you manage to nod your head, and you can almost  feel  the encouraging smile he offers you in exchange. Somewhere in the blurry mess of your vision, you’re able to see one of the only people to ever matter in your life. He speaks to you gently in this moment. He teaches you how to breathe in the same voice he sings to you in. You still feel like you’re dying. But the feeling is starting to ebb and flow with each word he says. With each breath he takes. Sometimes it’s there. Sometimes it’s not. Sometimes you’re afraid. Sometimes you’re not. Sometimes you’re happy. Sometimes angry. Sometimes you’re sad. Sometimes you’re a whole lot of things.

  But for now, you’re doing your best to breathe while Ramuda is doing his best to talk you down from the same bridge to hell that you’ve found him traversing on as often as you do. You’re still a lot of things right now. He’s still a lot of things too. But for now, you'll hold your hands in his. And he’ll hold your hands in yours. You have a long way to go to escape all of your pain. A long, long, long way. But if heaven is a place on earth for the two of you to witness?  Well…

  “Just breathe.”

  …you hope he sings you a song as the two of you drag each other along. 

  You hope more than anything. 

#ramuda x reader #ramuda amemura #ramuda amemura x reader #ramuda #hypnosis mic x reader #hypnosis mic #hynosis mic fanfic #hynosis mic fanfiction #hypmic #hypmic x reader #hypmic fanfic #hypmic fanfiction #hypmic ramuda #hypnosis mic ramuda #x reader #xreader #fanfic #fanfiction

[nateriverswife]

one night years ago, my friend and i ended up talking about peaky blinders and how we didn't like grace and thomas tbh because we didn't feel any chemistry between them and it was a pain. so we came up with a woman to take her place and i just found a draft of the fic i was supposed to write about her and never did and never will, but i really liked their dynamic here - under the cut.

I moved and started working at the pub. My goal was to forget the past and live my life in peace. I did not intend to start a new relationship, nor did I intend to have casual encounters. I simply wanted to forget my fiancé who died in the war, because I thought it was the best choice, but, of course, the more you try to run away from something, the more you find it everywhere…

And so it was with Thomas. The first time I saw him was on a Friday evening. The pub was already closed, and I was finishing cleaning the last tables. Grace had already left, so I was completely alone. I heard a knock at the door, thinking it was her who had forgotten something, but I was faced with Thomas Shelby, head of the Shelby family and leader of the Peaky Blinders. He had not expected to see me, because he thought they had only hired Grace, whom he had met that morning.

"Who are you?" He asked.

"Laurie, um, the new cleaning lady," I replied, pointing also to the bucket full of water just a little further away.

He asked me if it was wet and if he could come in. I stepped aside, explaining to him that, by now, it was all dry, but anyway it wouldn't cost me anything to stay extra, moping.

"Really? Isn't the husband waiting for you at home?"

I flinched at those words, but tried not to let it show and to hold back the tears.

"The ring on my finger." He added.

I shifted my gaze to it and hid it from view. "There is no husband."

"Then why do you wear it? To discourage possible suitors?" He asked with a smirk. "Brilliant."

He sat down at a table, still with his eyes on me. His smirk ceased almost immediately when he noticed that I did not respond to his banter. He frowned as I tried to wipe his face from my mind and the tears from my eyes.

"Would you like something to drink?" I asked, trying to change the subject, but although he told me he wanted whisky, he couldn't shake my complete lack of response so much so that, when I brought him the glass, he resumed speaking on the subject.

"Was it your grandmother's, mother's, sister's?"

I shook my head and poured the liquid into his glass.

"Wife?" He continued, as I put the bottle back in its place on the shelf.

"No…" I had the strength to whisper, as tears flowed in streams and I tried to wipe them away as fast as I could, so as not to show myself in that pitiful state.

"Did you steal it?"

I wanted to answer, but I was more preoccupied with killing the sob that was trying so hard to get out and finally won and echoed throughout the room.

"What a bad first impression, innit?" I managed to joke, just to smooth things over, but I didn't turn to look at him, out of embarrassment.

The idea that he was from one of the most dangerous gangs and that he was now in the presence of a defenceless and mentally weak woman made me more distressed than ever. I had never lived in such a place, where women were treated like objects, but I had to escape from my old life and this was the farthest place possible, where I could not see him in anyone, even though no one could've ever been him.

"How did he die?" He asked, after a few seconds of stony silence.

"In the war. In France." I replied. "He wasn't my husband. He should have been, though."

I only corrected him because I didn't want him to keep calling him like that, and remind me of what I had lost. It hurt enough without that addition.

"I would never have done that. It's asking for a tragedy to happen."

Soon, my sadness turned to anger, and I turned sharply, finding Thomas across the counter.

"How do you know? Have you ever loved anything?" I asked, stepping forward. "I may not have been in town long, but many women know your name."

"Everybody knows my name."

"You know what I mean." I retorted. "It's not his fault."

"I have never said it was. I'm just saying it's stupid."

"Loving someone to the point of wanting to be with them for life?"

"Making a promise before going to war." His cold tone made me shiver. "You'd better take it off so you don't risk crying in front of the customers. They like them vulnerable."

After saying this, he left the pub without giving me a chance to reply.

#he is such an asshole and i love him for that #i have never finished peaky blinders. not even season one but i wonder if i nailed his character tbh #d.exe

[starryserenade]

Myth and Magic Ch. 13: Lullaby

Fic Description: When Tir Na nÓg--the fabled land of the fae--falls to a dark power, the destinies of two young mice are set in motion. As each struggle to make their way in an ever-darkening world, they must learn to trust one another, or risk forever losing that which they hold most dear.

Chapter Description: Mickey's secret is revealed, and Minnie's trust is put to the test.

Links:

AO3

Prologue

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter: Coming Soon

~~~~

Mickey had never run so fast, not in his entire life. His climb out of the dungeon had not been an easy one, but the same magic that had covered the dragon’s keep in flowers had aided in his escape. Vines had sprouted upon the walls and woven up towards the sky, and he had clambered up them as quickly as his little body would allow. He was still weak from earlier, his tunic torn and back streaked with a gash from where the whip had scourged him. Every muscle in his body ached and burned, but all that meant as far as he was concerned, was that he was alive. And as long as he was alive, he really only had one goal. 

His heart still ached, a light, dull sort of sadness, for the dragon and her fate. But her words had invigorated him nonetheless. He felt strong–believed in, even–and it filled his heart with a warm light and a determination to do such a gift justice.

The Sidhe would be after Minnie, he was sure of it.  Whatever Daisy had planned, she couldn’t have accounted for that. Someone had to warn them. He had to warn them. Or…oh no.

He saw flashes of light emanating from a small spot in the castle town, and knew at once it could be nothing but magic. His heart shuddered. They’d beaten him there. His only hope was that this indicated there was a battle still to be had. Minnie would be all right. He would have known otherwise. He narrowed his eyes and leapt over the peak of a grassy hill, skidding down its slope and then hitting the ground running once again. His chest heaved with exertion but it would be worth it, he told himself. It had to be.

As he bolted across the town’s borders, a sudden flash of light erupted near the town square. His eyes widened, and his pulse quickened. Something was happening. Something bad. A familiar scream rang out through the streets, amplified a thousand times over in his ears. Minnie. There was pain in her voice. Real, physical pain. Anger burned inside of him.

If they hurt her…

His pounding feet led him straight into the chaos. He saw nothing else. Not the barrier which should have kept every mortal outside, not the army which waited anxiously for their chance to strike, not even the other faces who fought so furiously against the Sidhe. He saw only Minnie, and the spear about to pierce her heart. 

With a desperate shout, he thrust himself at the Sidhe, digging his nails as deeply into her arms as he could in a frenzied attempt to keep her from bringing the weapon down upon Minnie. “Get…away…from her!!” he shouted, gasping for every breath that he spent in this tug of war. 

The creature shrieked, but was distracted just as Mickey hoped. She turned away from Minnie and instead began to focus her attention on being rid of the pest that had latched itself to her back. This, unfortunately, was not a difficult endeavor. In hardly ten seconds, he felt himself flung off, his body hitting a stone wall with a distinct cracking sort of sound. For a brief moment, his vision went black, and Mickey woke up a second later to find himself crumpled beneath the stone cold eyes of the Sidhe. He pushed himself up, a flaming glare in his eyes, and scowled. 

Droplets of water began to fall from the sky. Minnie screamed his name. Mortimer shouted something he didn’t quite hear. Then a shudder ripped through the village, ripped through Mickey. Magica had screeched something just before, but the words escaped him. Everything escaped him, except for the helpless feeling of breathlessness that flooded his body. His back flared, like two pinpoints digging into his shoulderblades, and a massive migraine tore through his skull. 

He screamed, then groaned, blinking away the blur as he tried to take in his surroundings. The Sidhe had collapsed, lifeless, and the others had…AGH! Mickey gasped, and lurched forward. Then, slowly, as he truly came to, he felt a massive weight at his back. 

His stomach churned and his body shook. Something had changed. Something was different, and he had a sickening suspicion that he didn’t want to entertain. He was afraid to look behind him, but his shadow said it all. In the usual shape of his form, branching out past the silhouette of his shoulders, feathers stretched out like looming branches. 

He caught sight of Minnie, and all his own concerns seemed like specks of dust. She was on the ground, head cradled in Daisy’s hands and blood seeping into the dirt from a wound Mickey hadn’t seen at first. Her body writhed,mouth gaping open as if trying to breathe, but all that came from her were gagging little coughs that spilled water onto her fur.  Mickey’s blood went cold.

…all that binds her to life.

Fand’s words sat in his mind, sparking a terrifying apprehension as he realized what was going on. Whatever had happened, the enchantment that safeguarded Minnie’s life had been interrupted.

He watched as she lifted a trembling arm ever so slightly and reached his way before collapsing back again. Mickey could hardly move, but he forced himself to. For her sake. It was hardly more than a crawl, really, the way he pulled himself towards her. His body hurt as if a sickness was sweeping through it, but he pushed through anyway, dragging himself through the ever-worsening rain. When he finally reached her, Daisy relinquished control as Mickey swept Minnie up in his lap and gently cradled her head in the crook of his arm. He tore a piece of his tunic and held it to her wound to try to slow the bleeding, but he was at a loss as to how to stop her drowning. All he could do was set his hand to her cheek in some pitiful semblance of comfort. 

Daisy stared at him and his wings, clumsily outstretched, shocked but not shocked. If he had been watching her at all, he might have seen the look in her eye that was something like an “I knew it”, but he was far too focused on Minnie to care.

“What happened? What changed?!” he gasped frantically, glancing at Daisy for only a moment. 

“Mortimer did something! I-I don’t know exactly what, but-”

“So what d’we do?!”

“If you can get far enough away from the epicenter of the spell…it might be enough to break its hold on her!”

Mickey pursed his lips as Minnie coughed up another wave, and swept her up in his arms. He took note of her paling face with a painful lurch of his heart. There was fear in her eyes, and he hated that he couldn’t take it away. He looked around him, clutching her tightly to his chest as he scanned for any opening through which to escape.

By now, the surrounding soldiers seemed to realize the barrier keeping them from intervening had vanished entirely. Or, at the very least, Mortimer did. He stood up from where he’d been safely positioned in the back of his troops, and shouted furiously. “What are you idiots waiting for? Attack them!”

But the soldiers did not. At least not at first. As they stood in the rain, the droplets soaking through their leather armor and tunics, a ripple of confused murmurs swept through their ranks. From the front, a soldier whispered a shuddering question that soon echoed among his peers. 

“...Isn’t that the princess?”

“It’s her…”

“...I remember now…”

Mortimer reeled, eyes widening in furious shock when their words reached him. Anyone who’d been drenched in the rainwater was now looking back at him with wild distrust in their eyes. He sputtered wordlessly at first, desperate to maintain his authority. When he couldn’t think of anything too convincing to say, he fell back upon his rage. 

“ I am your KING! ” he shouted furiously. “Everything you are, you owe to ME! Attack them, now!”

Memory does not equal loyalty, and a good number of the soldiers were convinced by Mortimer’s empty commands. They had, after all, been handpicked by him, which largely meant they were the sort to have joined for purely selfish reasons. But not all. Where many narrowed their focus and lifted their spears to rush the wounded party in the square, a small number of determined souls pushed from the ranks to flank the border and lifted their shields, keeping their compatriots from invading.

“You! Fairy boy!” An older guard, experience written in the scars across his face, shouted gruffly as he pushed his shield back against an onslaught of soldiers, and Mickey turned to look. “You’ve got wings, don’t you? Use them! Get her out of here!” 

Fly? Mickey took a step back and swallowed. No, no, he didn’t know how. He’d fall. He’d hurt her. Shrinking against the rising cries of the mob about to break through, he opened his mouth to argue. Daisy had been taking advantage of the brief moment of protection by darting to each of her friends,each of them still reeling from their forced transformation. When she heard the soldier speak, she cast a pointed glare Mickey’s way. “Do it, idiot! She needs you!” 

An enemy soldier broke through, spearing the one blocking her path. Daisy stopped her from getting too far but with the wall broken, others rushed to follow. Daisy’s friends leapt up, pulling daggers from beneath their dresses, to fill the gap and hold the line as best they could. 

Minnie’s movements were slowing, and the fear that rushed through Mickey’s heart at that realization was enough to overcome his self doubt.  He tested his wings, willed them to move. It was a strange feeling, as they unfolded in a trembling curtain of feathers, almost surreal. Every raindrop that splashed against them, rolling down each plume, was one he felt as clearly as if it had collided against his skin.  He beat them twice, testing the wind as it pillowed beneath, and drew in a breath. It felt familiar, like he’d done this before. 

Had he?

The enemies pushed forward with a unified strength and with a cry, the group’s newfound protectors were forced to pull back. Spurred by Mortimer’s barking commands, the invaders immediately focused on Mickey, the princess now hanging limply in his arms. But as they neared, Mickey urged his feathers downward in a final, powerful sweep.

A gust of wind rippled out from under him, and the soldiers stumbled backwards, holding their arms in front of their eyes to shield them from the raindrops that were swept like daggers towards them. By the time they recovered, Mickey was no longer on the ground. 

He was anything but graceful as he took to the skies. Each beat of his wings was clumsy, and he realized quickly that his right wing was weaker than the left, a slight twist in its feathers making for sloppy shaping of the air. To stay aloft took every bit of his concentration to achieve. But it was for Minnie. So he grit his teeth and managed to steady himself enough to keep rising. 

“We’ll find you!”  Daisy shouted up to him, her voice growing smaller by the second. “Just get her to safety!”

Mickey nodded, though there was no way she could have seen. Minnie was now completely still, save for a light curl of her tail every couple seconds or so, and it took everything Mickey had not to plummet to the earth for sheer panic. Hold on, he urged her as the chaos of the village vanished from view. He didn’t know how far he’d have to fly to take her out of the spell’s range, but he’d go ‘round the whole world if he had to. 

Had circumstances been different, Mickey might have marveled at the view that stretched before his eyes. With the castle and its town far behind them, and stormclouds far below, nothing but starlight stretched for miles, ribboned by a green aurora that wove its way through the air. It was another world entirely, the one up in the sky. But Mickey was oblivious to it all.

He had flown for only a few minutes when he felt a sudden shudder rush through him, like a hum of magic that had been reignited. Minnie stirred. She flinched, then lurched in his arms, and he had to adjust quite quickly to keep from losing his grip or plummeting to the ground. Unfortunately, he couldn’t have predicted Minnie’s reaction when her eyes blinked open. They fell to rest on his face and, at first, filled with the warmth and joy of recognition. Then a look swept through them that Mickey didn’t recognize, and they widened in terror. 

Before he could question the change, Minnie was clawing at his chest, crying and screeching hysterically, and trying to push him away. 

“Minnie, Min! Minnie, stop, it’s me!” Mickey gasped, trying his best to calm her and keep his concentration on the flight. But there was a crazed look across her face, one that proved she was deaf to his pleas. Struggling to keep his grip, Mickey started to descend. He was exhausted, and shocked by Minnie’s sudden outburst. She was confused. She had to be. Why would sh- “Agh!”

Mickey yelped and flinched, face twisted in pain. Daisy’s aid from before had helped to drive the poison from his veins, but the burns from the cuffs they’d placed around his wrists still remained. Minnie had dug her nails into these burns, prompting an altogether involuntary response from Mickey. It didn’t register at first, that he’d let go. He had curled instinctively from the pain and brought his hands to his chest with a whimper. Then he heard her scream and noticed the emptiness in his arms, and with a rush of horror saw her falling through the clouds.

“ MINNIE!” he screeched, and instinct took over.

His wings folded by his side as he dipped towards the earth, nose-diving without a second thought towards the falling princess. The ground came into view far sooner than it felt like it should have, and sheer panic flooded Mickey’s soul. He pressed his wings tighter around his body, and then reached with all he had. A few yards from the ground–too close to stop his trajectory–he caught her by the hand and brought her to his chest, flipping over so that his back was to the earth when they hit the ground. 

Overwhelming pain shot through him when he opened his eyes and he gasped, gulping in air. One wing rested at a crooked angle to his side and the other lay twisted beneath him. Before his eyes, Minnie was standing over him. She held something in her hand and as Mickey blinked away the blur, he saw that it was some kind of sharply pointed stone.

A breath escaped him, carrying with it a shaky sort of disbelief.

“M-Min?”

Her nose twitched, and he saw that there were tears dripping off it. “Who are you?” she seethed, voice thick with anger and sadness. 

Mickey tried to push himself up and failed miserably. He was entirely spent, and could hardly register the confusion racing through his head. “Wh-what are y’talkin’ about, Minnie?” he breathed, hating that he was terrified of the way she raised that stone over her head.

She wouldn’t hurt him. She loved him. She loved him. 

…right?

“It’s…it’s just me. Mickey. It’s…just me.”

“LIAR!” she screeched, and Mickey flinched as her hand seemed prepared to bring that stone down. But she stopped just above his chest, her tears dripping onto his fur as his lungs heaved for air. She stared at him for several moments, her eyes narrowed with rage and betrayal; his wide, afraid, and confused. 

“Min…” Mickey whimpered. Her hand was shaking, clutching that stone like a knife as she held it hovering above his heart. 

“You took everything from me…” she sobbed. “You took everything from me, and then you took my heart, too. Why..?  WHY?!”

Mickey wasn’t sure what to do. He didn’t understand, but he felt altogether responsible…somehow. Like he’d deserve it if she drove that makeshift blade through his chest.  When he didn’t respond for several long seconds, Minnie bared her teeth, raising the weapon to bring it down on him.

Mickey shut his eyes, preparing for the worst, but instead he heard the rush of something landing against the snow. When he dared to look, Minnie was crumpled beside him, the blade gone from her grip as she sobbed into her hands. He released a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, tension falling away with a shudder.

The pain truly registered then, a horrid, nauseating sweep from his wings to his brain.  It made his vision spin as he tried to at least sit up, fighting against a wave of darkness that loomed at the corner of his sight. But it was Minnie he was worried about, more than the worst of the shudders that ripped through his body. 

They had fallen in the hillside, in a place mostly empty but scattered with trees, each several paces from the other. It was snowing here, as it had been in all the places they’d been through when they’d been carted to the castle. For once, this was probably a good thing. The powder had broken Mickey’s fall, and the broken wing that resulted was far better than what the alternative could have been.

The flakes fell in lazy drifts, settling upon the sparkling blanket in a quiet sort of dance. Mickey was grateful for the chill that kept him from dissolving into sleep, but he knew it put Minnie at risk. She had her arms wrapped around her knees now, tears still slipping down her face as she stared off into the distance, as if she’d find something there that would answer all her questions. Her body shuddered, but she didn’t seem to notice. That worried Mickey, too. Whatever had overcome her mind, it seemed to have robbed her of every feeling.

“Min..?” he tried again, in a broken sort of tone. He couldn’t understand why she refused to look his way, why the sound of his voice made her wince. “Minnie, please…talk t’me…”

He set his hand to her shoulder, and she finally reacted. She whipped around to look at him, distrust blazing in her eyes, and lifted her hand as if to knock him away. But then that familiar feeling tingled through both of them, that mixture of warm and cold, and she froze. Her fingers hung in the air, raised to push him back, but they wouldn’t move any further.  

Her gaze melted, still hurt, still confused, but now softer. She stared at his face for what felt like ages, and Mickey slowly brought his other hand to her. Her own fell to her side as he stroked the curve of her shoulders, gently, calmly, as one might caress an injured animal. A breath escaped her lips, then her eyes welled, and without warning she was burying herself in his chest. “You…wouldn’t…” she sobbed, words slurred. “I’m wrong…I have to be…wrong…”

Mickey did his best to stand his ground, he really did. But the pain in his back and wings was stronger now, and as he held her, his legs gave out from under him and brought them both down into the snow. “...ngh...’m sorry…” he gasped, falling to his knees. 

But now she was holding him, her eyes darting to his twisted wings, her hands slipping over his back and shoulders as she felt for the places where he was hurt. “Oh…” she whimpered, sniffing away her tears. “...Oh, what have I done…”

“‘S’alright,” Mickey laughed, as best he could at least, and his hand found her cheek. She paused then, and so did he, taking in the beauty of the flush in her cheeks and the kindness that had been restored in her gaze. He hoped he’d never have to see hatred in those eyes ever again. “...must’ve done somethin’ real awful t’make an angel like you so mad, though.”

Her shoulders slumped, and he wished he hadn’t said anything. “Mickey, I…” She looked away, biting her lip like she wasn’t quite sure she wanted to explain. 

But he wanted to know. It scared him, the thought of what she might say, but if he’d done something to her in the time he couldn’t remember, he was desperate to know how to put it right. “It’s all right, Min,” he assured her, in a voice more serious than any he’d ever used. “You can tell me.”

She drew in a breath and opened her mouth, every bit of her trembling. “It doesn’t make sense,” she whimpered. “But when I saw your wings…it’s like I could remember, clear as day.”

He leaned in, his grip on her as gentle as ever. “Remember what?”

“The fairy…the one who took my memories away…” she whispered, and though she avoided his gaze, she leaned into his chest as if to tell him she wasn’t afraid. “It was you.” 

Mickey flinched when he heard those words, and his heart dropped to his stomach. “Me?” he asked in an empty tone, his mouth dry, and he let his grip on Minnie falter. 

“It’s all right!” Minnie assured him, feeling him pull away, and she set her hand behind his neck to keep him from going too far. 

“No…no, it’s not,” Mickey breathed, running his hand through the fur between his ears. That fairy had taken her whole life from her, had doomed her to loneliness and heartache. If that was him, how dare he be with her now, as if he wasn’t to blame. “That’s…that’s…Minnie, are you sure?”

He could tell by the way she pursed her lips that she wanted to take it all back and lie. But slowly, quietly, she lowered her head. “I remember your face,” she murmured. “So clearly. Maybe I’m wrong…somehow. I want to be. But when I close my eyes, when I think back to that day…it’s your face I see.”

Mickey shuddered. He felt nauseous, more so than before. “Min…if…if that’s true, I shouldn’t be here,” he stuttered. “I shouldn’t be with you. What if there’s something I don’t know? What if I hurt you again? What if-”

Before he could utter another word, he found himself silenced by her lips pressed against his. A sweet, trembling sort of kiss that he felt he should escape from. He didn’t deserve it, after all. Didn’t deserve her, let alone her affections. But it was so gentle, so kind, so trusting…it made him feel like all his mistakes were swept away. He fell back against the snow, wings splayed to his sides, and she was there on top of him, pulling her lips away only when he had relaxed completely. 

“You said you wanted to put things right,” she breathed, his chin cradled in her hand as she lay atop his chest, looking down at him with deep pools of affection. “I don’t see how you plan to do that if you leave.”

Mickey chuckled lightly. Only Minnie could so quickly turn his guilt to gladness, or her fear to boundless faith. “A’right, you’ve convinced me,” he murmured, her kiss still tingling on his lips. He studied her eyes, those oceans of relentless belief, and sighed. “I will fix it, though.” His voice was more serious now. “I’ll get your memories back. Both of ours. And…an’ I’ll put things right. No matter what I’ve gotta do.” 

Minnie didn’t respond, only smiled softly and left one more brisk kiss on his lips before finding her way back to her feet. “We should find the others,” she resolved as she brushed off the snow from her dress. Small droplets of blood stained the patches of ice, and she faltered when she stood, holding a hand to her head. “Oh…”

It wasn’t as if Mickey was faring any better, but he scrambled to stand the moment he saw the sway in her stance, and managed to catch her before she lost her balance entirely. “Ya need t’rest first,” he spoke quietly, and wobbled a bit himself. “...ugh…we both do, I think.”

She took a breath, a puff of steam billowing from her lips when she let it out again, and looked back at him. “Any ideas?”

There wasn’t much to go off as far as direction was concerned in this place. The stars were shrouded by clouds, and it wasn’t as if there were any visible roads or signage to point the way to civilization. Mickey frowned, and cast a glance behind him at his wings. Maybe he could…

Tentatively, he tried to spread his feathers, but they got only about halfway open before both his wings seized. He gasped and lurched forward, Minnie turning back around to catch him this time. “Gosh…I’m useless, aren’t I?” Mickey laughed, gripping her shoulder to steady himself, but he wasn’t really joking. 

“Oh, stop that,” Minnie scolded. “You’re only hurt because of me, anyway.” He opened his mouth to argue–she had, after all, only hurt him because he had done such a horrible thing–but she hushed him before he could say a word. “-and don’t try to argue. I’m too tired to play that game.”

Mickey laughed a bit at her resolve, then lifted his eyes to the horizon. There had to be something here that could lead them to shelter. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted something peeking through the snow. He squinted, and realized it was a piece of fencepost, most of its shape hidden by the drifts. With a wrinkle of his nose, he tilted his head and glanced to his left, wondering if…ah! Yes, there was another, just the tip of the wood visible. 

“What is it?” Minnie asked curiously, noticing his sudden fascination with the surrounding area.

He grinned, spotting another fencepost, and then another, and knowing that just over the next hill, they would lead to a crumbling little barn. “I know this place!” he yipped cheerfully, and began to pull her along, their feet crunching through the snow.  “There’s a spot up ahead we can rest ‘til mornin’.”

Though the area was familiar, it was hardly recognizable. It took Mickey a bit longer than he’d expected to find what they were looking for, mainly because the barn in question was halfways covered by snow and was easily missed from a distance, especially in the dark. But when he had finally caught sight of the dull, brown wood and the decrepit silo just beside, he smiled and scooped Minnie up in his arms. She yelped, protesting his efforts because he “was just as tired as she was, and needed to rest too,” but he was tired of feeling helpless, and since the cold had dulled his pain at least somewhat, he figured he’d put the momentary comfort to good use.

“Nonsense, m’lady,” he’d countered with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, and spun her around in the snow for good measure, just to show her he was perfectly fine. In truth, the motion made him quite queasy and threw him a bit off balance, but he didn’t share that part. She giggled, and he thought if that laugh was all he had to live on, he’d be practically immortal. 

The barn’s door had long since been blocked by the snow, but part of the roof had caved in and made for the perfect entrance. This, of course, meant that the inside of the barn was largely coated with ice as well. But there was a little corner towards the back where the boards had fallen just right, and had shielded the place from the elements for the most part. It was here that Mickey leapt into, softening his fall with what little flutter of his wings he could manage. He set Minnie down as if she were a princess (which, of course, she was ) and the patch of hay her grand, silk bed. 

“Welcome to your chambers, Your Highness,” he bowed playfully and strangely, though this nook was shrouded in shadow, she could make out his form just fine. 

Mickey had been busy flourishing, and only noticed her curious stare when he finally uprighted himself and opened his eyes. “Er…you can laugh, y’know?”

Minnie shook her head, flushing as though he’d caught her doing something quite embarrassing. “Sorry, sorry!” she giggled, then shook her head and started staring all over again. “It’s just…well…you’re beautiful.”

“Eh?” Mickey wrinkled his nose, not quite sure if that was a compliment or a joke at his expense. But then he caught a glimpse of his reflection in a small portion of the window to his right, surprisingly still intact, and realized what she had meant.

His body emanated with a faint glow. Nothing too striking, not a fiery blaze or harsh gleam. But something like candlelight…a gentle thrum of warmth and comfort. In the places where his fur was showing, upon his head and through the tears in his tunic, small speckles glittered like starlight against the black. And his wings…

Those sparkled most of all. Even injured, they shone brilliantly, each plume a calm brown that faded into a milky white. He swallowed as he took it in. It was his first time seeing himself since he’d transformed. For so long, he’d dreaded even encountering a fairy. So now, knowing he was one, and had been all along…

Well, he wasn’t sure what to think.

When the first hints of the truth had started to seep through–his venomous reaction to silver, the comments of everyone at the castle, and Fand’s remark about hidden wings–he’d been so afraid to accept the possibility. He’d thought Minnie vastly opposed to the fae, and feared what she might think if she’d thought those rumors true. But…they were true. He was proof of that now, standing before her in a splendor he wished he could hide. 

But there was fascination in her eyes, and a calm wonder as she drank in the sight. 

Then she shivered, frost forming on her fur, and Mickey shook off his reservations as he knelt beside her. Even shielded from the weather, it was still far too cold for her here. He bit his lip, thinking of a way to change that. Fairies had magic, right? Surely he could use it. He narrowed his focus on a stray piece of splintered wood just across from them, and stretched out a hand. 

Fire! He thought, and willed it to burst into flames. But it remained cold as ever. He tried again, and still nothing, though Minnie was now looking at him like he was crazy. 

“Erm…what are you doing?” she laughed, crinkling her nose. 

“Tryin’ to start a… FIRE! ” Mickey replied, and shouted that last bit as he started intently at the piece of wood. It only stared back, or so he thought, with a taunting little expression. He was about to try again when Minnie caught his arm. 

“Careful, tiger,” she winked. “I don’t think that’s how this works.”

“Well, then how else am I s’posed to keep ya warm?!” he shouted back, and it took him about a minute before he caught the mix of embarrassment and humor that flushed Minnie’s cheeks. “W-wait…I didn’t mean…”

“I didn’t say you did!” Minnie yelped back, voice squeaking a bit more than usual. 

“Not that I wouldn’t-”

“Mmhm!”

“Then again, I don’t see how else…”

Minnie swallowed, and Mickey blushed. 

“Gosh, I mean…I guess if it’s just for…y’know…necessity…”

“Ah…yes, necessity…”

“...And it’s all right with you…”

“It is!” 

Minnie squealed that last part a bit too loud, and brought her hands to her mouth in sheer embarrassment. Mickey laughed and scratched the spot behind his ears, then flushed deeply.

“Erm…may I?”

Minnie nodded, cheeks cherry red, and Mickey took a place in the hay beside her. His warmth flared, and so did his glow, which he really wished he could dim just slightly. Nevertheless, he reached first for her hand, which then became her shoulder, then her hip, until she had moved entirely into his grasp as he leaned up against wall. “Better?” he breathed, as she curled herself up in his lap, her head resting against his chest. 

She hummed contentedly, and Mickey smiled, bringing a wing around her to shield her from the drafts that seeped through the cracks in the walls. He could feel the rising and falling of her chest against his ribs, her hands as they stroked his fur, and her tail as it intertwined with his. 

“Mickey?” she breathed quietly after a few minutes. Both of them knew they should try to sleep, but neither really wanted to.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you…for everything.”

He scoffed a bit, but tried not to jolt her too much. “For everythin’?” he laughed. “There’s a lotta not-so-good stuff in there, too.” 

“Still…” she murmured, and when neither said anything else for some time, she spoke again. 

“Do you think those monsters will come back?” she murmured, and when she trembled, Mickey ran his hand through the fur at her back, slipping his hand through the gaps in her corset. She didn’t seem to mind. “The Sidhe. They…they seemed different this time.”

Mickey didn’t have the heart to tell her about what he’d seen in the dragon’s crypt. About how cruel they could really be, or the one named Magica who seemed to be pulling their strings. He’d have to tell her about Fand eventually, of course. He’d made a promise. But for now…he’d been the cause of enough fear and heartache today. All he really wanted to do was make her feel safe, however much an illusion true safety might be.

“You’ve got a song for that, right?” he asked with a tad of selfish intent. “Y’know…one to keep us hidden.” 

Minnie stirred, and he could feel her cheeks get warm. “...You remember that?”

Ah. He’d never exactly told her that, since she’d first sung it for him, he’d passed by her cottage every twilight just to hear her sing. So he cleared his throat, neglecting to share that minor detail. “’Course I do. I…well, I think ‘bout that night a lot, I guess.”

“So do I…” she murmured softly, and was quiet for a few moments before continuing. “...but I’ve got other songs too, you know.”

“Do ya really?”

“Mmhm…”

“Like what?”

“Well,” she breathed. “I’ve got a song that can make a flower blossom, and…and another that can make you fall asleep, and-”

“Ah, I like that one.”

“Hm?” 

Mickey yawned. “The one that can make y’fall asleep. ‘sa lullaby, I bet, right?”

“Well, yes…only, it makes me a bit tired, too…”

“Think you could try?”

“Well, I…I suppose…”

Try she did, in a soft and dreamy sort of voice, and Mickey listened with great contentment as the lullaby echoed against the barn walls. It did make him drowsy, and his lids grew heavy after only a few short seconds. But he was a fairy, and he’d counted on that revelation to resist her charms as he listened intently, and stroked her back all the while.

She��d been singing for hardly two minutes when her words grew slurred and drowsy. Then, after a particularly lovely note, they dissolved entirely. Minnie’s body relaxed, and her breaths slowed into a gentle rhythm of their own. To Mickey, they were just as sweet a sound as her song had been. 

From up in the rafters–the few that remained at least–a raven ruffled its feathers and stared down at them. Mickey, having been studying the way Minnie’s lips opened just slightly with every breath, looked up briefly and caught its eye. What are you lookin’ at? He mouthed with a small smirk gracing his mouth, and shook his head in amusement as it leapt up in a sort of startled hop, and took back to the sky.

It was only a few minutes more before Minnie’s enchantment caught up to Mickey, too and, hand still light against her back, he gave into his heavy lids and fell asleep.

#just thought I'd give you all whiplash this week #idk #sounded fun #myth and magic #myth & magic #StoriesComeAlive #fanfiction #my writing #mickey mouse #minnie mouse #mickey x minnie #mortimer mouse #daisy duck #oswald the lucky rabbit #ortensia whiskers #clarabelle cow #magica de spell #morgana macawber #clarice the chipmunk

[handgiven]

fucked up kisses / @triicksters a drunk kiss & a kiss that won’t be remembered.

lupin is a creature living his life beyond a veil. having stopped disguising himself under false faces, still the way he detaches himself from the living world, the way he looks down upon things and worries endlessly about others while refusing to let it seep through his cold exterior. the way he rushes, walking down the street, a small black hole of a man, who will not allow you to so much as look at him, let alone consider for a moment the sorrowful expression tearing his face apart.

he cannot quite stop the angel doing that, however, and so, needless to say that the angel worries for him. the angel knows, the angel cares, the angel wants to offer solace, even if it be just a shoulder, a hand. the angel will not allow himself to read the other's thoughts. he will not intrude upon the intimacy of the other's heart that lupin guards so deeply. no, the angel shall accept whatever explanation the other wants or does not want to give him, content even just to be able to be in his company. to be able to make sure lupin does not fall apart.

it's no different when lupin turns up drunk upon his doorstep. the rain outside makes it hard to guess how much of the wetness of his cheeks comes from tears of his own, and how much of those belong to the skies above. it's strange, the way that beautiful face twists itself with anger slowly rebirthed into sadness. from the thing that cuts outside to the thing that stings within. the force of it threatens to bring lupin to fall, and the angel is fast to reach out to catch him –⁠ hands grasping upon the arms, and then the torso, too, as he realises just how unsure the other is on his feet. still, gazing up at him, emmanuel gets the feeling that the other might just keel over, the way he leans over him.

that is, until lupin makes their lips meet. something desperate, something harsh, something salty. giving away the nature of the water upon his face, but not too clearly, as even the saltiness of the tears is in the end overtaken by the overwhelming taste of liquor.

the angel freezes, but his arms do not lessen their grip upon the other, half-certain even now that if he lets go the other might just topple to the floor. still, lupin does not break away. not for a moment, not while the surge of despair has its hold on him. it's the angel's hand reaching for his cheek that has him withdraw at last, the very warmth and tenderness of it shining light where there was only alcohol-induced fog and darkness. he slurs something, but the angel struggles to understand. he doesn't care, anyway. whatever it was, an apology, a note –⁠ he knows the other needs to rest. in the state of him, he likely won't remember this by the time he wakes up tomorrow.

"come... let's get you to bed." emmanuel does not use it for the most part, anyway. the sheets are always clean, and the curtains heavy, shielding the room from the outside light even at the brightest point of midday. the other can rest there for as long as he needs. he helps him get his shoes off, his jacket, and accompanies him like he would a much older man, supporting him the entire way –⁠ and the other might just be drunk enough not to realise or protest against it.

the angel lays him down to rest, and something of a relief comes over him when he sees the might with which lupin's fatigue reaches him. he barely brings the cover to the other's chin, and his eyes are shut. he will move around for a bit, trying to settle, but it's clear enough he's found the place he needed. a place to crash for the night.

the angel sits on the side of the bed, and doesn't really know why, other than the incessant need to make sure that the other is alright. other than a faint memory of lips pressed to his own, with perhaps a little too much force. other than the unspoken concern he holds for the other's heart that brought lupin such sorrow to get himself into such a state. emmanuel sighs, watching him, and his hand hovers where it touched the other previously, near his cheek. perhaps... he could aid the other's wellbeing a little bit. perhaps he could make sure his sleep is deep and dreamless. a kiss to the forehead, and lupin will be settled for the night.

still as he leans in to do just that, his lips ghost over the other's lips. wondering. giving in to the want. tearing himself away. enough. enough. the other's day must have been eventful as is. he deserves only to have some peace and quiet, here. the angel sighs, and leaves the room.

#triicksters #▻ 𝐸𝑀𝑀𝐴𝑁𝑈𝐸𝐿 、roleplay ⁽ ᵃᶜᵗ ᶦⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵃᵐᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ⁾ #▻ 𝐺𝐸𝑁𝐸𝑅𝐴𝐿 、answered ⁽ ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏˢ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗᵘⁿᶦⁿᵍ ᶦⁿ ⁾ #q. #oh this was Fun.

[chromochaotic]

Reads of 2023 Part II (so far)

i was sad i couldn't fit all the cover pictures in my Part I post without it going off the screen, so might as well split it into 2 posts! update as of 6/11!

thoughts/reviews:

Heaven Official's Blessing: Volume 1

It's happening! My friends have been deep in this author's works/fandom for a while now, I'm pretty late to the party... Well, I guess I've dabbled in some of the animated/live action content that's out there for the different series. Anyway, this was a fun read! There's something so lush about historical dramas that definitely comes through here. When you add in the bits of humor and adventure, the whole story is really refreshing.

Even though the translation is still a tiny bit unprofessional, it's clearer than other options, haha. I was able to get a way better sense of the world and characters on this attempt (I had a good time watching the animated show! But as my friend put it, the season moved lightning fast, so it brushed over a lot of things). I don't have any other real nitpicks, other than like... the odd sexism that pops up now and then. Lmao

I am ofc in love with the main characters... They invented love... They invented devotion... I'm also delighted by the pace of things! Their relationship has managed to be both teasingly slow (like, the gradual reveal of Hua Cheng's true identity) but also very satisfyingly forward (the escorting!! the painting!! the righteous anger!!). Excited to see where things go with them, and the rest of the cast! (3.5/5—would be a 4, but the translation still kind of hampers things.)

Naomi Vandoren's Forest of Light

The second art book I bought from this artist! Same thoughts as before; for a quick browse, this was a refreshing little collection. Her style is just nice and soothing, with some fun surrealism/dreamscape vibes thrown in.

I'm not sure I'll buy any more of these, since the book didn't add quite as much insight into the works as I was hoping. Plus some of the concepts don't really resonate with me/seem that well researched...

I think one of my favorite things included was this abstract work the artist did—she wrote that she started with random watercolor mark-making, and then turned that into a piece. Those were very cool explorations! (2.5/5)

Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Last Olympian

Done!! With the series! (Unless... It looks like there might be some followups to the main story?) I understand why the darker tone got dialed up, and other than the excursion with Nico, why the story kind of broke from the wacky-roadtrip vibe of the others. It made sense, while still keeping some of the lighthearted narration from the others, which was nice. I think what I appreciate the most about the series is the fun it has with its world. (Side note—I watched the movie based on the first book recently, and I can only assume it didn't do well! Bc omg, it completely missed the mood of the books. Instead of lingering on the whimsy, they focused on... making Grover a very cringey stereotype? Nah.) (ALSO??? THEY CUT OUT MY DAUGHTER CLARISSE????? THE AUDACITY???????)

I think my biggest gripe with the book was the very weird way the Annabeth-Percy-Rachel dynamic was handled. Like, it just got kind of tiring after a bit, especially with the way Annabeth acted so uncharacteristically catty at times. Plus, like, Percy's off falling in love with Calypso after like 5 minutes, the girl is right that he's kind of flighty. Rachel's ending also felt, just... eh.

Other than that, I was very into the last book!! There were some really moving character moments, like, Nico struggling with his place in the story, everything we learned about Luke... AND THE BIGGEST MASTERSTROKE OF ALL!!! I have been waiting to scream about the sapphic Patrochilles take??? At the end??? Clarisse has two hands and she can hold both Chris's and Silena's. She was moved to go into battle!!!! For her!!!!! She defeated one of the most terrifying foes in NO ARMOR just with a SICK ASS SPEAR and I LOVE HER. Anyway no notes, except they better do Clarisse justice in the new adaptation or I will riot. (4/5)

Secrets of the Oak Woodlands

Ooo I'm out of practice doing these reviews... Mostly from a funny cocktail of outside factors slowing me down, but also because nonfiction can be such a slog for me to get through. Tragic, because I do want to learn more ecology, I'm just... bad at it. Anyway! Bought this book on a fun West Coast road trip, I think I picked this up in the Sequoia National Park gift shop? The writing itself is great, especially how it tackles some pretty complex concepts in a way that's approachable. The book doesn't feel like Baby's First Nature Guide, but it also doesn't completely lose me when it explores why coyote populations actually rise when they're hunted or why Oak Mistletoe is a keystone species.

Even though the watercolor illustrations in the book were lovely, I sort of wish the visuals could have focused more on the tougher scientific concepts being explained. Like, instead of the illustrated "anecdote" of a quail sitting sentry, it could have been good to have a cross-section diagram of an oak gall or something. I guess it's always hard to balance interest and clarity in scientific writing, though. Overall, I think this was a pretty good eco-starter book! I'm just a square peg trying to force myself into a round hole, reading these nonfiction books. (So... 3/5?)

The Dragon's Bride

Hoo boy... Hoo boy... Listened to this audiobook at the recommendation of my friend who's very into erotica/romances. Which was an adventure, for me! To start with the good points, I really like the founding premise of this whole world/story. Deals with demons walk that perfect line for me of intricate and taboo power dynamics—and at the same time, the author satisfied my inner hopeless romantic by making all the demons (that we've met so far, at least) morally viable! So yeah, the world building and characterization is really nice, tbh.

I think my two sticking points are the smut itself, and that I didn't find these particular protags very compelling... It's interesting comparing this to, say, an above-average smut fic. On the one hand this has better prose, but on the other hand the smut veered into being a little too flowery now and then... (not to say all the sex scenes were like that. Uh. There were some choice ones.) I also personally found the frequency of the sex scenes a little ridiculous, but for most people that's probably a positive! 😂 And then, when it comes to the main characters themselves, I think they were well-rounded and the dynamic itself made sense. The personalities just aren't the kind I normally latch onto, though—they're not my blorbos, you know? So, where I'd go into a smut fic already attached (and therefore more into the smut itself), these... I could take it or leave it, haha.

That said, this installment did pique my interest for others in the series. I'm curious about the one with the succubus........ And the one with Eve..................... Those tidbits seem more up my alley. :] Also, the voice acting was pretty fun, tbh. They got separate VAs for Briar and Sol, the two POV characters, and they knocked it out of the park (even/especially in the smut scenes)! (well, except for a very funny instance where the guy VA had to voice Briar's lines in a smut scene in a Sol POV chapter. Damn, did he try.) Might pick up one of the other installments... if they come out on audiobook! (3.5/5)

Legends & Lattes

Another recommendation!! From a different friend! Apparently this book is popular on booktok but since booktok sounds like a cesspool (not really—pls don't come for me) I'm glad I didn't know that going in. As a purveyor and avid consumer of slice-of-life fluff.......... I loved this!!! First of all, the main character is My Kind of Girl, and exactly the kind of character I want to see getting a happy ending. Then, the rest of cast provided so many different kinds of delight—the warm Found Family feeling of a grumpy kind father figure and an adorable little Creature baking actual cinnamon rolls and a prim but secretly dorky girlfriend and and and—so many greats! Even the antagonists were enjoyable, in their way.

Hmmm... for the negative part of my postive-negative-positive sandwich, I think I'd just echo what I've seen in a few other reviews—I could have done with a teensy bit more of the romance. Or I guess, more of the cuteness of it? All we really got was a little bit of lead-up and then a big get-together, but I feel like the romance scenes I like most (shy flirting, a tiny bit of pining) got sort of skipped over. It's not a huge negative! Especially for this story, which seemed like it hit exactly the balance the author intended. Yeah, I might have just had the epilogue cover the main ship being cute and in love, instead of the little righteous vengeance scene that we got.

So this was a perfect little comfort listen (audiobook again! with really nice acting done by the author himself!). I saw other people calling the first chapters slow, but tbh I loved the steady, hopeful mood that came from all that straightforward hard work happening and then paying off. A great story, if you go in with the right expectations! (4.5/5) (P.S.: also this article touches on some other L&L points that I think explain why it resonates so well in post-pandemic life) (P.P.S. now I'm trying to parse out why I liked this book so much more than House in the Cerulean Sea... I think part of it is that the cast felt more respected? Like, it was more than just The Most Special-est Pretty Boy and his Plucky Boyfriend Fix Fantasy Racism)

#hi my name is chromo #book review #? #i got real slowed down on the other nonfiction ecology book that i might dnf #plus i picked up some old crafting hobbies #AND fell into binging some comfort shows after getting bad news from the vet (that turned out maybe not so bad?) #so anyway! #been an interesting few months

[abysslll]

listening to the dazai playlist! forgor if u sent link or not n too lazy to check so im just hoping the "dazai osamu vibes" one is the right one

idk whats been saying in the first song but wooo! woooooo!!!!! adventure!!!!!!!

the GUILT this man has is violent. i am choking on it. but like guilt in a very numb way if that makes sense? hes done horrible things and hes just fucken desensitized by it at this point that he cant even bring himself to feel bad about it, but some part of him still hurts.

anger issues he explodes constantly. very slow work up before it just goes bOOM

revenge. hunting down the people who hurt him

i already know this mfer does not wanna live but ive still gotta mention violently suicidal and self destructive. idk if ive asked but do we know why he has so many bandages?? constantly flipping between killing himself and fucking over life and living

very fast speeding connections in which he gets attached and gets hurt? when he does really connect to someone they mean a lot to him. keeps promises like hell and fuck. he has strong bpd vibes.

religious trauma?

sommmeeeeeetimes a little cuckoo crazy coco puffs. like really insane and violent and overall he turns into someone you dont want to be around. he can disconnect from everything around him easily so at that point, he doesnt care what happens

sexy

boogeying these tunes are so good and i feel like there should be a lot more pure screaming in this playlist like dazai probably listens to screams of anguish while falling asleep

very sneaky scary little man i think he would like guns and should not be trusted around weapons of any time. very smart also.

GET MENTAL HELP!!!!!!!!!!!!!

walks around in life just really angry and resentful towards everything idk why hes still alive but maybe spite or just pure hate towards everything he cant even bring himself to really die. feels very unloveable and alien (okay fine yes i did read no longer human by the real osamu dazai)

mfer is always wearing a damn mask to please people!!!!!! stop people pleasing!!!!! be normal!!!!! or actually dont i think neither would be very good

his trauma made him angry and mean and unpleasant to be around instead of soft and caring and strong and hes so so angry about that and like. idk what his trauma is but its giving Why Would You Do That To A Kid vibe

fucked up morality. good or bad? who knows!

suuuuuuiiiiiccccciiiidaaaaallll i see you im so tired and last words of a shooting star. feels like all would be best without him around but doesnt really wanna hurt the people he cares about too much (though he wont let himself admit this)

AUHGOAUHGOAUGHAOUGHAOGUHAOGUHUAHGIAUGOUAHGO

reading through this grinning and laughing like a madman YOU ARE SO RIGHT FOR THE MAJORITY OF THESE OPINIONS!!!! i am going to go through and give way too detailed responses to most of this bc i am very normal here we go

numb guilt is SO TRUE for him i don't have a better word to describe his views like there's this scene where he's talking to kyouka and she tells him she can't live anymore because she's killed 35 people and he looks so sad when he says "so what? what's a mere 35 people?" bc hes killed HUNDREDS and he doesn't even really feel bad for it while this girl is in despair from a (relative to him) small amount

no anger issues actually but you've made me REALLY want to see an angry dazai now so i'm gonna have to write that revenge fic 😭

it is not said why he has bandages but there are two major theories in the fandom, one is that he self harms and doesn't want other people to see and the other is that he's actually the Book which is hard to explain concisely but is a reality-altering book that everyone in the series is trying to find. whatever is written in it will become reality so it's a theory that all the writing is on his skin and he's just kinda hiding in plain sight! nobody knows for sure tho

HE DOES HAVE BPD VIBES

he totally does switch personalities in canon, like most of the time he's all cheerful and woo happy go lucky eyehey and then whenever he's facing off against the villains or doing something a lil morally wrong he just completely shuts off any kindness he might have mustered it's fun to see but also yeah. Scarey

he absolutely would just listen to straight up screaming you are so right

crying at sneaky scary little man that is the best description of him i have ever heard and i am going to steal it for dialogue in the fic i'm writing rn. he should NOT be trusted around weapons but for some reason he's like the only guy in the detective agency who has a gun

i think thr people pleasing is better than his true self lmao 😭 idk if he even has a true self at this point tho </3

i almost wish we knew what his trauma was in canon but i prefer it being a mystery bc 1) i quite honestly don't think they could write whatever it was without making it seem underwhelming for his character bc tragic anime backstories are So common and he's so much more fucked up than your average anime character and 2) people write the most horrific fics about their versions of his backstory and i love reading them sm. i want to read them forever

thank you for listening !!!! hope u enjoyed and i will get to peyton's playlist tomorrow if i have time :DD <333

#bat <3 #endless asks #my playlists #<- i THINK that's my tag for this #idk #bsd tag

[ofmermaidstories]

MERMSMERMSMERMS wowowowowowow!!

i have so much to say about the chapter. I finished it this morning, and i do want to do an actual detailed analysis but i don’t have the writing in front of me so i’ll just go through all the things that first struck me!

The beginning of the chapter the flashback to when izuku is still a fledgling hero and the loneliness your portrayed. The repetition of the empty apartment really just struck home and it made his sadness and dissatisfaction with the end of knight-shield that much more potent!

Now izuku is no more 21, he’s older and smarter, but those same demons are still haunting him, and seeing his perspective of what happened during katsuki’s and weeds dance with death really solidified the what was happening to both of them at that point in time. Izuku rushing to the hospital after landing and him and katsuki both sitting down “expecting the worst”, heroes cut from the same cloth. It made me a bit sad) thinking about his optimistic, (maybe naive), view on happy endings and what him, his friends and other heroes have worked towards, what they deserve.

but katsuki gets his happy ending!! weeds is ok. and he has his birthday party. This was one of my fav parts of the fic. Reading the joy spread across katsuki’s face as he realizes that his friends gathered to celebrate and love him. the quiet contentment izuku and kirishima watch him with as he celebrates. perfectly sets up the scene for izuku and reader to meet!

Watching their meeting from izukus perspective was that much funnier. He’s such a dork and i love him for it. his quiet mortification when they see each other again in the meeting and he realizes reader recognized him. perfect!

As we watch reader and izuku begin their hangouts, the thing that struck out to me was how hard and fast izuku fell. I’m surrender its slow and slow you don’t see it coming until you do, just like katsuki said on that rooftop. At first izuku uses the reader like an escape! a reprieve from the chaos of his world and heroics, but it’s obvious she becomes something more to him at time goes on. It’s especially interesting that to watch how the dynamic between him and his close friends changes as well but i’ll get to this part later!!

quick intermission before the sad stuff!! but SHOTO DROPPING THEY BOMB ON US THAT HE GOT MARRIED?!? I DEADASS THOUGHT HE WAS JOKING IN THAT DRY WAY HE USUALLY DOES I WAS JUST AS SHOCKED AS KATSUKI TBH😭😭😭 honestly it just makes me all the more excited for his and his readers story!! This revelation honestly made me think of idea of a short drabble that has been plaguing my mind everytime we talk within this universe. if you actually decided to write this i would die: but the whole of class 1a plans a game night/wedding celebration for shoto and reader??, and at some point in the night they convince the big the big three and their respective partners to play the newlyweds game! (if you don’t know what that is basically two people receive question and try to guess what their partners answers would be)! but anyways it turns into a whole thing because it always does between those three and it’s the most entertaining game of the whole night. ps.(katsuki’s quiet care for shoto even if he tries to hide it in his gremlinness really comes out when he wants him back in the city during investigation and his anger when shoto told them he got married i love ❤️, i love how you always expand on certain characters relationships and dynamic because it makes the universe that much more real 🥺)

back to the sad stuff!: but izuku and katsukis relationship has always been special, especially in the way you have portrayed it in this universe merms. Their history is so rich and it’s the core of the bnba itself. You do it such justice. Their love and care for each other is so obvious. They are sixteen and deku idolizes katuski, continues to place him on this pedestal, his symbol of victory, and katsuki is struggling because he feels that he’ll never catch up izuku or be half the hero he is so he lashes out. They are twenty-somethings and katsuki is still trying to atone for his shortcomings and struggling with the guilt of his childhood mistakes. they are twenty-somethings and all Izuku was is to shield katsuki from that guilt because he’s finally gotten to a place by his side and merms it breaks my heart everytime. They are both so fiercely protective of each other (even katsuki would never admit it)

Everyone is so fiercely protective of izuku, and we see it in his interactions with the people he loves. And reader makes that choice, understanding her history with bullies and what they represent, to portray katuski like that, not entirely wrong no, but completely against Izuku’s wishes and how he wanted to see one of his closest friends depicted in something so close to his heart

When i’d read this part id been peeved for reader, I completely understand her point of view (and honestly i would’ve reacted in the same way given the circumstances). Yet i could not contain the quiet heartbreak and reading izuku watching katsuki read the first scans. The pain of watching an artist whose work you respected seeing you in that way. devastating. I was making little noises of sadness the whole time. (I was also very curious at where the first meeting between katsuki and reader occurs in this timeline, right after izuku and reader had gotten their fried sticks standing right next to the trash can and vending machine with izuku in his bright clothes),

The events after the fallout, watching izuku desperately trying to make things right in his own obsessive way. The festival itself, watching from his perspective. The tiredness and ache and guilt from carrying the world on his shoulders. , beautifully and well written.

The reoccurring motif of his arm, refusing to taking care of himself and put himself first constantly. Yet in this case with reader, he’s choosing to be selfish. to be secretive , to keep this for himself. Circling to the changing dynamic of his close friendships, especially with ochako! He’s 17, When he chose to be silent in the golden light of UA, as watches uraraka, now he’s 20 something and he’s choosing to be silent as he realizes his giving the heart that everyone assumed was her to someone else. Katsuki’s quiet protectiveness of both of his friends. Again spectacularly written.

There’s so much more i have to say about sero, mineta, aizawa, tenya, HANA!! the reader herself!!!!!! but i’ve already written so much and i don’t want to overwhelm you!

Again thank you so much for all that you do, letting us have a look in your mind and creating stories where our favorite characters fall in love and find their happy endings 🥺🥺. I’ve been reading your works since 2020 and you’ve come so far!! I will always be a loyal reader and lover of your works. I am so excited for chapter 6 and i can’t wait to see what you do next :))

much love, and hopefully new anon

-🍄

🥺 i need you to know that i kicked my feet like a kid when i first read this. i have trouble answering things because i have this urge when someone writes something thoughtful to like—squirrel it away LOL, it’s almost like wanting to squeeze the life out of something cute? i wanna rattle it around and then hide it under my pillows. press it in-between the pages of my diary. keep it secret forever. Gnaw on it and then dig a hole.

the fun thing about like, writing for a main character like Deku (in this way) is that he is so good… so it kind of makes his small selfishnesses look massive, if that makes sense? because he’s all about like, getting in there, helping people, winning by saving and saving by winning etc etc. and i think in fanfic you can really play that up!!! which, obviously, i’ve chosen to do in SJLT—idk, there’s something so satisfying about him as a lead, in a way that Bakugou doesn’t provide. 🧐 idk, i can’t name it, i just know i enjoy it (which is why i let myself loose with part i there).

i like to think Deku holds onto the happy ending thing because—he needs to. Because they’re going through so much, in canon, and i have no doubt they’ll win—and it will just prove to Deku that they can get there, they can grow up and be these big Pro Heroes and things will be okay. so after a shake-up like the mining-cave and his freak out, and then realising it’s some kind of instinctual response to Bakugou’s loss—yeah. They’d both sit there in the hospital, heroes cut from the same cloth, waiting for the end. ☹️ Proven wrong, though, thanks again to the narrative! 💅🏽✨ Gotta keep ‘em on their toes.

RE: Deku falling hard and fast—idk, i think it’s one of the things that makes him more fun than Bakugou! you have to earn it with the gremlin, work up towards like you’re befriending an alleycat. and by contrast Deku just—takes people in. And I think he’s kind of oblivious to his own feelings, albeit in a stubborn, deliberate way, but i have always seen him being just… easier, emotionally. 🥺 until the self-doubt sets in, whether that’s his own or someone elses.

shouto getting secretly married cracks me up. 😌 for now, anyway. we’ll see how much i’m laughing when it comes time to write it out LMAO. i absolutely believe that the Big 3 and their partners would be a nightmare combo in any game though, omg, could you imagine? it’d be unbearable LMAOOO.

(a Shouto & Katsuki friendship is one of my favourite thingsssss in fic; i guess we don’t get to see much of it, from Deku’s POV, but i cannot wait to get my grubby lil mitts into Shouto’s fic because he and Katsuki have a reason to team up and it’s just sdlkfjlksdfjlksdfj. Best Friends Forever.)

and okay, here is the thing: deku is the star of the show. like, in My Hero. Obviously, LOL. But everyone is canonically protective of him!!! 🥺 He is the sun they’re all gravitating around. i like to think an adult!Deku, one generally comfortable in his skin, routinely saving the country, would inspire that kind of devotion easily. and then you have gromits like Bakugou on TV just like, idk, scaling the wall out of sheer demon rage—if anything i think i needed to make Reader even more judgemental of him and protective of Deku LOL. i think people would just look at Deku and hear something like, “oh, Ground Zero used to bully me” and instantly be like: this man is too forgiving. and maybe he is. but it’s not Deku to want him to be punished for it, to grind his face into the carpet where his mistake’s still wet, you know? whatever happens in the current war arc, if they make it out alive Deku is only going to want one thing: to be with his friends as they follow their dreams and become Heroes. so i’d be mad if i was deku too. Kacchan will always be fundamental to who he is and everyone in their lives just has to accept that (including our Readerchan).

(Reader and Kacchan’s first meeting happened before the comic’s initial draft! so Bakugou making a bad impression probably didn’t help LMAOOO).

i’m always so curious about how like, a lack of communication can lead to so many—mistakes. it’s an admission of guilt, with how Deku’s holding his tongue. he knows he needs to talk to Ochako—and it’s not even because i picture Ochako like, waiting for him, in a needy way, but just in a, she is his friend and they do have history—romantic history, no matter how careful it was—together and idk, he needs to do better by her. and also he needs to free Kacchan from being on venting-duty.

but anon!!!! hello. 🥺 this is me + u on our way to tea to talk about our favourite fics and tropes and why x reader works so good and also why everyone else is wrong about it. i want you to know that i have thought about this ask every day since getting it!!! if you think about it, in a way, we’ve been together on this ride for what—two years? 🥺 i hope i can tell the rest of the deku story in a way that’s fun, for you. 🌷 thank-you for being here, anon. thank-you for saying hello. 🥺

#ofmermaidstories-asks #something just like this — fic #mer-spoils-everything

[yesterdays-jam]

Part of me wants to scream but when I try it’s like the energy just isn’t there, Part of me misses the old pre hrt anger, Despite it being exhausting it felt like I could at least express that emotion,

Now if I cry it feels like a task, Put on sad music and try to get in the headspace to foster a sad emotion into crying maybe a few tears

I get giggly but I don’t think I’ve ever laughed so hard my stomach hurts, I usually just have a coughing fit

I feel like despite being happy and starting to like myself, There’s a lot of emotion that I’m kindve missing, Like I want to let it out but I can never be that loud because neighbours and even if they weren’t there Id still have this anxiety of being heard or seen,

I feel like it would be embarrassing if nothing much came out

Im always annoyed at having to stop what Im doing when others are around, I feel like I have to stop stimming and turn off my music just to tell them Im okay

Like yeah sure I can get vivid scenes in my head of traimatic scenarios that could happen and it can be scary, But I feel like being able to play them through makes it less scary,

I feel like I need to let go of the fear of impeding on others but at the same time theres been times where even me singing bothers someone else

It just feels so cramped, I might’ve moved out of the city but I still feel the pressure to be quiet and sit down in order to not impede on others, I still feel the eyes and ears everywhere making sure Im acting neurotypical, Its exhausting

Weirdly enough during my most recent listening to loud music anxiety vision I wished that I had some sort of split personality where I changed into an alternate me who could let everything out without the overthinking and anxiety that I have, I wanted my body to be able to fully release this buzz energy

I feel like if I could get past my overthinking like Im doing with my people pleasing maybe Ill get my emotions back?

That way I dont have to mask and worry about being called a baby because of how I talk/act when my brain is moving really fast and thinking of multiple possibilities

Maybe then I wouldnt struggle so much with dermatillamania and general anxiety mechanisms?

Maybe if I could sing loud like I wish I could… I could get this energy out

Instead my voice sounds out of key and I think from a constant negative perspective

My anxiety controls whether my voice sounds okay or sounds choked up

I feel like maybe there’s repressed memories or something that is making my body feel so out of alignment?

#queer #trans #mental health #thoughts #trauma #tumblr journal #pride

[justmybookthots]

The Bear and the Nightingale

One good thing (among others) this book had going for it? The MMC doesn't really show himself in great detail until the last third of the book. If he'd shown himself so much earlier, I'd have lost interest fast. He was pretty underwhelming as a winter king/demon, and I'd have felt demotivated to continue. But because he showed up late, the main plot of the story got to shine, and I enjoyed it thoroughly.

I was really sceptical about this book at first. Everyone on Goodreads said it was slow-moving and very dense and sometimes it felt like nothing was happening at all in the first half, and even though that was partly true, I kept turning the pages. The slow, subtle plot beats had some kind of grip on me, and even now I can't tell you exactly why they did. 

This book plays on tropes I'm not the biggest fan of: the heroine embracing more traditionally masculine traits and being lauded as better than the other women in the story because of that. But it's a tricky situation because if she was submissive like the other women, I'd have felt unsatisfied too. I don't know what the right move is.

Nonetheless, I liked Vasya a lot. She was pretty likeable for the most part, especially as a child. Sometimes I just wanted to give her the biggest, tightest hug for the stuff she was going through. I hated Anna, her stepmother, who I'd sympathised with at first but grew to loathe. It was unsatisfactory how Anna just died in the end without realising how wrong she'd been about Vasya. I wanted her to wallow in her awful decisions but that never happened. She just died after getting attacked by the Bear and there was no reflection on her part.

(Also, I saw a reviewer feeling sorry for the priest and I'm like, ARE YOU SERIOUS. Guy was the second worst person after Anna. Or maybe the first. I don't know. They take turns to vie for the foulest existence in the book.)

Overall, a pretty solid read, even if not the most memorable. There's some stuff that gets glossed over (marital rape, blatant misogyny) but I guess it's an evocation of its time period and makes sense. I don't think I'll be picking up the next book because it concludes quite nicely and the winter king was meh, but we'll see.

- 5 February 2024

I Hope This Doesn't Find You 

I'm really, really sad.

This book was one of my most anticipated books this year because This Time It's Real was my five-star favourite last year, but this just… did not make me feel the same way.

I'm torn about my feelings in two parts. One part believes that if I had read this some time last year, I'd have enjoyed it more. I'd been desperately craving some story with an academic-rivals/hate-to-love relationship. I'd felt Divine Rivals lacked the anger and heat I was looking for but now? This had all the anger and tension I had craved but I just found it tiresome after a while.

The other part of me just didn't get the swoon factor I was looking for in Julius that I got from Henry and Caz. I guess in romances I've always liked proactive heroes who were sweet on the heroine later into the story (not right away, but preferably through a slow burn)—and I don't mean by just doing things for them. Yeah, Julius did some things like running the race for Sadie and cleaning up some of the mess in her house… but for some reason, those actions didn't really move me. 

Maybe it's because Julius just isn't proactive about his feelings the way Sadie is. He does those nice things for Sadie—but you know he's still holding back, that he hasn't come to term with how he feels. In the end, all his kind acts do is make Sadie more emotionally beholden to him, and I don't like that. 

Sadie is the one who realises she likes him, who decides she's going to have the maturity to try to confess to him, but he fucks it up anyway. He assumes she's nice to him because she pities him, and he makes it about himself, and plays a victim in this situation. All this, when Sadie was the one who stood up for him in front of his brother, who took the courage to take the first step outside their decade-long feud by being nice to him and trying to confess, and he makes it about himself. And he says horrible things about her in retaliation.

There's one part that really got to me: when Sadie says she's been thinking the best of him, and he's been thinking the worst of her. That line hit me REALLY hard, and made me disgusted.

And how does it get resolved? By him overhearing her confession of her feelings towards him. Only when he has concrete proof that she likes him back that he allows himself to be proactive. He doesn't take a risk, doesn't let himself take the first step into the unknown like Sadie did. Never once does he let himself believe the best in her. He only believes that when he gets proof. 

This book left a horrible taste in my mouth, and I'm gonna admit I'm quite upset. I don't know how This Time It's Real was 5 stars and this book is like… 2. I was also disappointed by Emily Wilde's Map of the Otherlands and I wonder if I'm just gonna be met with disappointment after disappointment with all the releases I'm anticipating this year. 

The last one that I was really looking forward to is The Prisoner's Throne, so I shall see. I'm no longer feeling as pleasant as I did about it before this book.

- 6 February 2024

#book review #ann liang #i hope this doesnt find you #romance #the bear and the Nightingale #katherine arden #this time it's real

[britesparc]

Weekend Top Ten #532

Top Ten Doctor Whos (Doctors Who?)

Sometimes the subject of these lists is just completely random. Sometimes it’s something to do with my personal life. Sometimes it’s obscure and complicated! And sometimes it’s dead obvious.

This week, Ncuti Gatwa was confirmed as the newest actor to assay the role of The Doctor in the long-running TV series Doctor Who. He is, let’s not beat around the bush, The Next Doctor. And he’s great! He’s bloody tremendous. Honestly, go watch Sex Education and tell me this guy cannot do everything required of the Doctor. I’m so excited to see what he makes of the role, and what adventures returning showrunner Russell T. Davies takes us all on.

So it’s gonna be a simple one this week. One that’s been percolating a long time and this feels as good as moment as any to, er, brew it? Pour it? I’ve lost the metaphor there, sorry. Anyhoo, here’s the deal for real: the best Doctors.

Now, I’ve seen Classic Who. I feel like I really came on board with Sylvester McCoy – he’ll always be “my” Doctor – but I know I’d seen some of Peter Davison at the time, so presumably I saw a bit of Colin Baker too. But before then? Nope, sorry, too young! I’ve watched a few in repeats, but I’ve never even attempted to sit down and properly watch them. So this is going to really colour my list, as I have to be honest and say that all my favourites are, really, from New Who; from the 2005 reboot onwards. But, y’know what? I’m just gonna own that; I’m certainly not a “young fan”, but this franchise is nearly sixty years old, so of course most people will have gaps, will have eras they’re more familiar with. Just bear that in mind.

Thinking about it now, it’s such a huge shame when Doctor Who was off the air. I remember loving the McCoy years as a nipper, and it being appointment TV. I remember being hugely excited by the TV movie in 1996. But those years – the nineties, basically – is when I’d have devoured this show. Whether it was the cheaper, slightly cheesier aesthetic of the previous decade, or the flashy effects of the next, I’d have been religiously affiliated to a Doctor Who series in the mid-nineties. It’s kind of annoying, in retrospect, to think that I only got to appreciate it either as a little kid with a million more pressing fandoms, or as an adult; I missed that era when cults are born. Red Dwarf, The X-Files, Star Wars (which really got its hooks into me with the games), arguably Star Trek to some degree – these were all things that bled into me in my young teens. In fact, I do wonder how much of my love of Doctor Who came from re-reading his appearances in Marvel UK comics, or his crossovers with Death’s Head?

Anyway, forget all that. This is supposed to be a simple one. So with no further ado, here are my favourite iterations of Doctor Who.

David Tennant (2005-2010): an energetic, boyish charm that hides a deep well of sadness and anger. Plus a great suit, nice hair, and sexy glasses.

Matt Smith (2010-2013): simultaneously a perpetually excited man-child, and also a weary elder carrying the weight of years. Lots of nice mannerisms and turns of phrase. The best companions, too.

Peter Capaldi (2013-2017): the best accent, arguably the best hair. Good-natured grumpiness masking a bleeding heart that frequently bubbles over.

Sylvester McCoy (1987-1989, or maybe 1996, depending on how you want to count it): this is where I came on board, which helps a lot. Also a delightfully fast-paced, no-nonsense, good-natured turn of phrase, but again with that darkness just beneath the surface.

Tom Baker (1974-1981): arguably the platonic ideal of the Doctor, mostly conveyed in that luxurious baritone voice. Otherworldy, vastly intelligent, but kookily down-to-Earth.

John Pertwee (1970-1974): an elder statesman with elements of foppish dandyism, with a clipped delivery and fantastic eyes.

Paul McGann (1996): feeling younger, sexier, more exciting; extremely good-natured and overcome with a desire to help at all costs, we sadly didn’t see enough to get to the depths of his character.

Christopher Ecclestone (2005): charmingly Northern and down-to-Earth, in contrast to the wilder eccentricities of other incarnations, he nonetheless carries a ferocious sense of pain, guilt, and rage that threatens to engulf him.

Jodie Whittaker (2017-2022): channelling a lot of the friendly, good-natured vibes of previous incarnations, she’s a goofy kid who wants to be loved, but also has a darker, less sympathetic edge, and a stubborn refusal to share her grief.

William Hartnell (1963-1966): creating a lot of what we consider to be cornerstones of the character, he’s far more “elder statesman”, a professorial air giving him an immediate authority, but with enough sympathy in his voice to make him seem like a friendly old man.

Now I deliberately haven’t included either John Hurt’s War Doctor or Jo Martin’s Fugitive Doctor, because whilst they’re both incarnations of the same person, they’re sort of one-off guest stars rather than “real” interpretations. I do really like them both, though, but I think we can all agree that it’s the numbered ones that count, yeah?

For what it’s worth, though, Martin would come just below Whittaker and Hurt would come just after Baker.

#top ten #doctor who #the doctor #ncuti gatwa

[stratuscloudsurfer]

Would they ever remember they are twins? Or Emmet remember he was actively looking for Ingo?

How would that suddenly realization hit, of all of a sudden? An "I missed you so, so much, looked through literal space/time for you!"

You know, I think that Emmet remembering how exactly he got to Hisui is pretty much inevitable since he was the one to intentionally rip through two centuries worth of time to track down Ingo.

As for how he comes to this realization, I don't really know. I imagine that on some level, he doesn't want to remember. It was an extremely traumatic time for him, after all. Who wants to remember being abruptly separated from their best friend? The instantaneous recovery of these repressed memories would be equally traumatic.

A thought... Azelf can sense the force of a person's will and communicate telepathically. Maybe the lake guardians are being threatened and Adaman asks Emmet to protect Lake Valor's guardian. Before Azelf allows Emmet to do so, it insists that he prove his worthiness. It wants to test the “force of his will” except instead of making him throw about 600 pokeballs at it like it did Akari, it searches his soul and casually yanks all of the repressed memories he has surrounding Ingo's disappearance to the surface all at once like one would yank out the roots of a stubborn weed from the ground.

And god, its agonizing. One second he didn't even know they were there, and the next he's nearly doubled over from the pain of the sudden mental assault. He's in no physical pain, but it hurts like hell anyway. It feels like he's reliving the whole horrible thing all over again, except in a single, concentrated instance.

He can't get out of the cave fast enough. He wants to turn back time so that he could never step foot in front of Azelf in the first place. He wants to shove the memories back to where they came from so that he won't have to deal with them ever again. He’s confused and upset and almost blindingly angry. 

He should go back to Adaman and give a report, or maybe go somewhere to cool off and collect his thoughts, but he doesn’t. Instead, he flies straight to the training grounds, where he knows he’ll find Ingo. He’s not thinking about what he’s doing. He can’t think past the jumbled mess of memories that’s been thrust to the forefront of his mind. All he knows is that he’s just experienced the worst pain in his life, and Ingo is at center of it.

Ingo knows that something is wrong the second he sees Emmet’s expression, but he doesn’t have the chance to even say a word before he explodes on him. All of the sadness, all of the anger, all at once. And as Emmet demands to know “How dare you?! How could you do this to me?” Ingo can only stand there in stunned silence while Emmet yells at him because he’s so upset that he can express his emotions but not where they are coming from, and he has no idea what he’s done, but he must have done something to cause this. By the time that Emmet finishes and storms off, he’s just as confused, hurt, and angry as his brother is.

Emmet goes back to the Diamond Settlement, tells Adaman curtly that he needs to find another warden to work with Azelf, and returns to his tent, where he refuses to talk to anyone for the rest of the day. This gives him a chance to actually sift through all of the new memories he’s very suddenly acquired, and he’s finally able to separate them from the strong emotions attached to them.

He makes several discoveries, but the most important one is that Ingo is his twin and he disappeared. He’d searched to the ends of the earth for his brother for years and wouldn’t you know? He finally found him, and now he’s gone and projected all of his pain and frustration surrounding the event on Ingo and… shit, he probably hates him now. Again. And just when they were starting to get along! Emmet is afraid this means that they’ll be back to square one, and that, more than anything, terrifies him. Now that he knows he’s lost his brother once, he can’t stand the thought of losing him again.

And this time, it really will be all his fault.

This is what he thinks, until Ingo yanks his door open without knocking first.

He expects him to be angry, but he’s not. He looks confused and hurt, but not angry, not that he shouldn’t be. “Emmet, what did I do?! Can you please tell me so that we can talk about it? I know I can be harsh sometimes, but I never meant to hurt you. Please. I just want to be your friend... help me understand.”

And Emmet doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry because... seriously? Ingo wants to be his friend? Even after all of this? 

So he tells Ingo that he didn’t actually do anything wrong, apologizes for his blow-up at the training grounds, and tries to explain everything as best he can, even though he doesn’t fully understand it all himself. Ingo listens without interrupting until he’s finished. Even after he’s done, he doesn’t speak for quite a while. 

When he does, he does so without looking at him. “I see,” he says, “So, are you regretting your decision now?” 

“What decision?” Emmet asks, surprised.

“To come looking for me. I mean... its not as if I’ve exactly been nice to you. All I’ve done is argue with you since you got here. I still don’t remember anything about who I was to you before... but I can imagine that I wasn’t quite as big of an ass.” 

Emmet is silent for a second. Then he stands up and wraps his brother in a hug for the first time since he’s been in Hisui, and to his great relief, Ingo doesn’t push him away.

“Are you kidding?” he asks. “You’re my brother. Don’t get me wrong, you are an ass--but you’re still my brother. And I’ll never regret what I did to find you again.” 

#ask #answer #submas #subway boss ingo #subway boss emmet #pla #au #enemies to brothers #whoops didn't mean to read this far into this ask #i uh... don't actually know whether azelf is capable of this or not #a little angst with this one

[chiruba]

JJK BOYS' ACCIDENTALLY MAKING YOU CRY !

an. this is literal garbage and very long but enjoy LOL

ft. itadori, fushiguro, inumaki x gn!reader

wc. 1.3k

genre. angst to fluff

tw. broken bones, cast and death mentions, also some swearing bc its british culture

♯ MASTERLIST ♯ TAGLIST ♯

ITADORI YUJI — panic activated. there is nothing itadori would do in this world to hurt you, not intentionally at least. itadori had yet again come back from another dangerous mission - yet again another mission that almost took his life. it seemed that the danger levels just kept increasing as itadori continued to grow and improve as a jujutsu sorcerer, and as his significant other watching from the sidelines, the only thing that grew in you was your worry and concern. you thought you could handle it, seeing him come back each time with deep cuts and broken bones - thought you could make a subtle comment on how he should be just a little more careful, and yet, seeing him in this bad of a shape was all too much. itadori nearly pounced out of his skin when your teary eyes met his, all he did was ask you to sign his cast(s)! "yuji," he heard you sob, muffled by the hospital blankets you buried your head in. "please," he heard you whimper, hands clenched so tightly on the blankets he thought you'd rip them in half. "i'm not asking you to stop being a jujutsu sorcerer, i just want you to be careful." you looked up, eyes finally meeting, and itadori immediately reaches out to wipe the tears that spill down your cheeks. "what if you died?" the fear in your voice triggers something in yuji, and he immediately engulfs you in his arms. "no, would never leave you, baby." he says, tone firm. "i'm sorry, i didn't realise how stupid i was being - for not noticing how you felt and how reckless i was." he says, and its scarily serious. you nod, slowly taking in his words. "you promise?" you ask once more, wanting to confirm it. yuji smiles, breath tickling the shell of your ear as he whispers, "i promise."

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI — fushiguro knew he could be a little harsh with his words sometimes, which is why when you first started dating he always kept it to a minimum around you. yet as your relationship went on, megumi found himself more and more comfortable with himself, with you, with your relationship. perhaps… a little too comfortable. he had made another teasing comment - the only thought he gave it was making sure it was formatted correctly before it spewed out of his mouth. he expected to hear you giggle - tease him back, maybe give him a slap on the arm that really felt more like a tap, and yet, nothing. megumi ignored it for a minute or two, thinking perhaps you didn't care much, or were too busy doing something else to even pay attention to it. no biggie! it's not like it hadn't happened before and- oh. megumi thought, his heart dropping and eyes widening when he heard small sniffles come from behind him. oh fuck. he was sure he'd whipped his head around so fast it gave him whiplash, and yet that was the last thing he could care about right now. "you really mean that, fushiguro?" he heard you ask, your back turned to him as your shoulders shook - voice shaky and breathless. fushiguro. he leapt at your use of his last name, pouncing across the room to get by your side. "no, no! never! you know i love you more than anything, i-i didn't think - fuck - i didn't even think about what i was saying, 'm so sorry." he was panicked, his hands fidgeting awkwardly as he debated reaching out to you. luckily, you made the choice for him. megumi only felt like breathing again when your hands wrapped around his waist, head buried into his chest. "'is okay, 'gumi." he sighed, hands wrapping around you as he held you tighter, "just don't say it again, please." he shook his head without pulling away from you, and you felt him plant kisses across your neck in a silent apology. "of course, never again, love."

INUMAKI TOGE — inumaki is a tease. you wouldn't expect it from the quiet, innocent looking cursed speech user. inumaki loved to pull pranks constantly, and you had quickly become used to them in your relationship - even spiraling into your own little 'war'. beginning to see who could get the best pranks to just becoming who could get the most - and inumaki was determined to win. it had come across his tiktok feed. ignoring your s/o for a day to see how they react! he glanced over to see your sleeping figure wrapped around his arm, giggling when he saw your noise scrunch up at the sudden movement. yeah, inumaki was definitely gonna win this war. you were absolutely positively sure that you had never had a worse day than this. you completely forgot to charge your phone during the night, leaving you frantic as you tried to throw on your uniform as fast as you could - only to finally get to school and receive a big fat fail on your last test, but, hey! it couldn't get any worse! unless spilling your lunch and scraping your knee and - god, everything was just going wrong. you wanted nothing more than to be cuddled into inumaki's arms right now, inhaling the comforting smell of vanilla he always managed to subtly be coated in. which is exactly why you were seeking out your platinum haired boyfriend right now. a wave of relief washing over you as he came into view. "toge!" you yelled, a smile covering your features as you ran over to your boyfriend "ugh, you won't believe how-" "kombu!" inumaki exclaimed, running over to fushiguro, completely past you. you paused, awkwardly pulling down your raised hand that was stilled in a wave motion. perhaps he just had something really important to do right now? no big deal at all!... and yet, it was a big deal. it continued on and on, inumaki continuing to ignore your entire existence as you tried over and over to get his attention. he'd even looked directly at you at one point, only to turn away the next second - and it had been the last straw. chest burning and eyes watering, you stormed off to your dorm, throwing yourself onto your bed as you sobbed into your pillows. seeing how you'd progressively gotten more pissed throughout the day - inumaki thought all he was in for was a particularly nasty prank in return when he got back. he knocked on your dorm room once, then twice, and then a third - and yet he got no response. no response other than the muffled sobs he could hear come through the door. he felt panic course through him immediately, pushing open the door hurriedly. "takana?" inumaki practically yelled, bursting into your room as he saw you buried in your pillows, shoulders shaking as you sobbed. inumaki sat down by your side, ready to take you into his arms - before he was shoved off completely, your angered and tear-stained face meeting his eyes. "so now you care? go away, inumaki!" his heart sank as he finally began to realise what he'd done - that the anger on your face throughout the day looked more like sadness. "o-okaka," he stuttered, desperately trying to communicate through his gestures. you only glared in response, shoveling back into your blankets as you turned your back to him. inumaki stayed silent for a few minutes, listening to your cries as they lowered in volume. "please listen to me," he begged finally, and your ears perked up subconsciously. "jerk. don't use your dumb advantage…" he heard you mutter, and he felt his heart lift just a little. "i'm sorry." he said, and although it didn't seem like much - coming from inumaki, it was practically the world. you didn't say anything, but simply shuffled forward to give inumaki room on your bed - something he happily accepted as he immediately tackled you in kisses. inumaki did not in fact win the war.

reblogs appreciated <3 

©  2021 sinrinyoku — please do not repost, translate, modify or plagiarize my work! i will beat the shit out of u (maybe)

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #itadori x reader #fushiguro x reader #inumaki x reader #itadori yuji x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #inumaki to/ge x reader #jjk itadori #jjk fushiguro #jjk inumaki #inumaki headcanons #itadori headcanons #fushiguro headcanons #inumaki to/ge #itadori yuji #fushiguro megumi

[deripmaver]

laurent is a good person - book 1 meta

one of the most amazing things about captive prince is how the reveals in book 3 recontextualize all of the scenes leading up to them, including about laurent himself. in book one, all we see is damen pov as he’s being abused and humiliated by this supposedly spoiled, vile ice prince. when the regent comes to damen and subtly (and not so subtly) insults laurent, calling him unfit to rule - well, why would he think anything different? laurent has insulted him, had him whipped within an inch of his life, and even attempted to (and later successfully lmfao) have him raped while drugged out of his mind. 

after book 3 we can reread most if not all of book 1 as a very traumatized boy who has finally been confronted with the man who killed his brother, leaving him alone with his abusive uncle, and who he clearly has made into a complete monster in his own mind. damen of course sees him as a complete bitch, but there’s textual/subtextual evidence that laurent is well liked, and that his behavior during book 1 was actually pretty out of character for him. i’d like to provide some examples of that now!!!!

“Laurent had stopped dead the moment he had seen Damen, his face turning white as though in reaction to a slap, or an insult. Damen’s view, half-truncated by the short chain at this neck, had been enough to see that. But Laurent’s expression had shuttered quickly.” Captive Prince, Chapter One

i couldn’t resist adding this one in hehe. laurent recognizes damen!! he’s come down, knowing his uncle has devised another truly horrendous and triggering “gift” and that he’ll lose support if he calls it our for what it truly is, only to find out that it’s fucking damianos of akielos sent to him as a sex slave. a jab at laurent’s trauma about auguste and also a jab at laurent’s frigid sexuality - which ofc is completely the regent’s fault. fuck that guy so much lmfao 

“‘It’s so rare to see you at these entertainments, Your Highness,’ said Vannes.” Captive Prince, Chapter Two.

this is right before the fight between govart and damen in the ring, of course. damen sees laurent as depraved and vile as the sexual sadism on display by the veretian court, and considers him to be a willing purveyor of it. this is wrong, of course, as said by vannes here. laurent has only shown up because he wants to humiliate damen lmfao.

“He did remember being supported by two of the guards, here, in this room, while Radel stared athis back in horror. ‘The Prince really . . . did this.’ ‘Who else?’ Damen said. Radel had stepped forward, and slapped Damen across the face; it was a hard slap, and the man wore three rings on each finger. ‘What did you do to him?’ Radel demanded.” Captive Prince, Chapter Four

this scene, to me, was the most telling lmfao. it’s right after damen is whipped. you could argue that radel is just a servant in the employ of the royal household, so is of course going to be loyal to the prince, but he seems genuinely surprised of the prince’s cruelty towards damen. not only that, but he slaps him and immediately assumes damen must have done something. which - i mean, technically he did lmao. not necessarily enough to deserve having the skin flayed from his back, but you know. if laurent was in the habit of torturing pets and slaves, why would the overseer react this way?

“The men guarding him were the Prince’s Guard, and had no affiliation with the Regent whatsoever. It surprised Damen how loyal they were to their Prince, and how diligent in his service, airing none of the grudges and complaints that he might have expected, considering Laurent’s noxious personality. Laurent’s feud with his uncle they took up wholeheartedly; there were deep schisms and rivalries between the Prince’s Guard and the Regent’s Guard, apparently.” Captive Prince, Chapter Four

laurents relationships with his guards are also some of the biggest indicators that he isn’t just a spoiled brat, but can insire a deep loyalty in his men. even if they do all want to fuck him. ah, sexual harassment. it’s also hilarious that damen immediately assumes they’re loyal to him because they want to fuck him - nice projection there, dude. we know a bit more about laurent and his guards thanks to green but for a season, but this little bit here is interesting.

“Laurent was indeed good at talking. He accepted sympathy gracefully. He put his position rationally. He stopped the flow of talk when it became dangerously critical of his uncle. He said nothing that could be taken as an open slight on the Regency. Yet no one who talked to him could have any doubt that his uncle was behaving at best misguidedly and at worst treasonously.”  Captive Prince, Chapter Five

idek what to say here. laurent my beloved <3333

“‘When someone doesn’t like you very much, it isn’t a good idea to let them know that you care about something,’ said Laurent. Damen felt himself turn ashen, as the threat sank in. ‘Would it hurt worse than a lashing for me to cut down someone you care for?’ said Laurent.” Captive Prince, Chapter Seven

this isn’t really relevant to my thesis lmfao i just love this exchange bc it gives SO MUCH information about laurent and his uncle in just three lines of dialogue. what has the regent done, who did he cut down just to hurt laurent? when and how did laurent learn that? p a i n 

“Laurent’s fussy horse began acting out again, and he leaned forward in the saddle, murmuring something as he stroked her neck in an uncharacteristically gentle gesture to quiet her.” Captive Prince, Chapter Nine. 

HORSEY NO- lmfao this scene just hurts so badly on the reread. especially later on, in book 3 i think, where laurent says something like “i provoked my uncle.” he’s really blaming himself for his uncle KILLING HIS HORSE, his horse that his murdered brother trained, one of the only living connections to auguste... all because his uncle could not let a single miniscule plan laurent had set go through without some kind of repercussion. literally all laurent did was do something to stop an innocent group of people from being abused, nothing to undermine his uncle’s rule, but because the regent is VILE he could not let laurent have even this. he’s so good with her, too. he must have known by this point and also known that there was no way to stop this. P A I N

“‘I know that you have somehow arranged this,’ said Erasmus. He was incapable of hiding what he felt, and just seemed to radiate embarrassed happiness. ‘You kept your promise. You and your master. I told you he was kind,’ Erasmus said. ‘You did,’ said Damen. He was pleased to see Erasmus happy. Whatever Erasmus believed about Laurent, Damen wasn’t going to dissuade him. ‘He’s even nicer in person. Did you know he came and talked to me?’ said Erasmus. ‘—He did?’ said Damen. It was something he couldn’t imagine. ‘He asked about . . . what happened in the gardens. Then he warned me. About last night.’ ‘He warned you,’ said Damen. ‘He said that Nicaise would make me perform before the court and it would be awful, but that if I was brave, something good might come at the end of it.’ Erasmus looked up at Damen curiously. ‘Why do you look surprised?’ ‘I don’t know. I shouldn’t be. He likes to plan things in advance,’ said Damen.” Captive Prince, Chapter 9.

this is the first in-text confirmation we have that laurent has a good heart beneath his layers and layers of trauma-induced lashing out. book one often skeeves people out because of its graphic and, honestly, yes, kind of sexualized depiction of rape, slavery, and depravity, but beneath it all you meet these two protagonists who are going to have all of their most deeply held views about each other challenged. laurent from very early on is shaken to his core when damen refuses to rape nicaise in the ring - it cracks the very foundations of the person he’d built up in his head as this horrible monster who killed his brother in cold blood. and damen keeps defying laurents expectations by being a good person through and through. on the other hand, laurent spends the first part of the book taking out years of anger on damen, but here for the first time we see him do something just because its the kind thing to do. yes, torveld is an ally against his uncle, but laurent has clearly been scheming with him for a while now, and he’s now overlooking his hatred of damen and working with him just because none of the slaves deserve whats happened to them. it’s such a sweet moment.

“One of the other men, eyeing them, approached a moment later. ‘Don’t mind Jean. He’s in a foul mood. He was the one had to stick a sword through the mare’s throat and put her down. The Prince tore strips off him for not doing it fast enough.’” Captive Prince, Chapter Nine.

HORSEY NO- pt 2. this is just another really sweet and sad detail - laurent being so upset that the horse’s death could have been more painless. it must have hurt so much to see her in pain, and to know that the only way for that pain to end was being put down as quickly as possible. i wuv him. im sad

that’s it, though there are still a few more chapters left in the book. this isn’t providing any new information, of course, the path of the three books is to show that laurent isnt the man we meet in book one, that he’s actually sweet, and earnest, and he’s been fighting his own battle practically alone against his abuser since he was fifteen years old. also, the reveal that laurent knew who damianos was from the start makes it clear imo that all of his violence in book 1 was supposed vengence, not... him being evil. he apologizes explicitly in-text, and also, all of the acts of violence he commits cause serious problems for him in terms of his future alliance which he then needs to fix. i just love how layered these books are, how there’s so much information in them that makes rereading almost more fun than reading them for the very first time!

#Captive Prince #captive prince meta #damen x laurent #Laurent of Vere #Damianos of Akielos

[smileyoongle]

Secrets and Lies (Yandere!Mafia!BTS Reaction|| MYG Ver.)

Request: Hi, I really love your writing. Can I request a yandere mafia reaction when BTS' S/O did not know of their occupation but find out accidentally?

Word Count: 2291

With your back pressed against the front door, you took in the sight before you with regretful eyes, your throat running dry at the comprehension of what was coming for you. The sun was setting on the horizon, the last of its rays filtering in through the curtains only to highlight the very thing that you were hoping to never see again.

Red salvias.

Your chest seemed to tighten with every passing second, beads of sweat forming on your forehead as your eyes began to burn due to the lack of blinking being done on your part. The house that had been your safe haven all this time, suddenly started to feel small and threatening. You could hear your heart pumping in your ears, screaming at you to run as fast as you could. But you knew it was late.

It was too fucking late.

Clenching your fists by your side, you took a step towards the bouquet sitting on your coffee table, a golden card staring at you from in between the numerous red petals that you had grown to hate. Because all they reminded you was of him. Of the times you used to plant these in your little garden, all the while whispering how you belonged to him, something you now regretted with your whole being.

With shaky hands, you took a hold of the card, your eyes widening upon seeing the message on it, written in the same messy handwriting that you had seen a thousand times in his study.

‘Forever Mine.

-Love MYG’

Inhaling sharply, you let go of the confession that could have been considered loving, only if your lover was a normal man with a clean conscience. Only if you had never found out who he really was and only if you had never called the cops to report one of the most wanted men in the country.

You still remembered the look in his eyes; the brew of anger, sadness, betrayal and love had almost made you feel dizzy but maybe that was just because of the tears that refused to stop. His lies had left you in a web of pain and hurt, just as your actions had left his heart broken. But could you have lived a normal life, knowing that the man you were so in love with, was nothing but a crazed cartel leader who killed for the thrill of it? Never. And so you did what you had to, sent your lover far far away from you before moving on and learning to live without him.

Swallowing thickly, your feet carried you to the warmth of your bedroom, your mind being consumed by the need to escape as soon as possible. Those flowers being here meant that he knew about your whereabouts, and it was only a matter of time before he found you. But you still had to try. You still had to run because you knew that if you saw him again, you wouldn’t be able to hold your ground. You wouldn’t be able to look in his eyes and tell him that you didn’t need him anymore. Because the truth was that you missed him. You missed everything that he was and everything you both had. There was a time when you thought you would be okay but that never happened. With every passing day, you continued to grow lonely and miserable, his name falling from your lips like a prayer for survival. And you couldn’t let him know this. You just couldn’t.

Turning on the lights in your bedroom, you pulled out your suitcase from under the bed, your hands reaching for the closet before your eyes looked into the mirror and all air was knocked out of your lungs.

“Yoongi.”

Standing on the other end of the room, your lover’s dark eyes stared right into yours, his hands shoved into the pockets of his black coat. The bags under his eyes were profound if you looked hard enough, yet somehow being outshined by how ethereal he always looked. His pale skin shone in the setting sun’s rays, his hair falling across his forehead just like it used to when you were lovesick for him.

“Hello, love,” he whispered, tilting his head with a pained smile, as if it hurt him to even look at you. And maybe it did. Because what you had done was unforgivable for a man who did nothing but love you. But what he did was unforgivable too, for a woman who did nothing but hope for an honest relationship. And now that he was here, clearly having escaped his prison sentence, you wondered how he would punish you. Because you knew all too well now, the things he was capable of doing. You could only hope to make it out alive this time.

“Ho-how is this possible?” You questioned, your lips trembling partly from fear, something that had been instilled in you ever since you found out who Min Yoongi was.

He chuckled, glancing at his shoes before taking a step towards you, your immediate reaction being turning around and moving a step away from him, your back pressing against the mirror behind you. His jaw clenched at the way you drew yourself away from him, his mind reminiscing of all the times you spent in his arms when you were still oblivious to the things he did.

“I’ve always been a man of power, Y/N. Did you really think you’d be able to leave me so easily?” He tsked mockingly, his eyes displaying emotions that seemed a lot more intense than what you had always been a witness to. Your breath faltered, your eyes darting to the door of your bedroom before you bolted towards it, pulling it open with hasty fingers and tasting the air of freedom beyond it. But all of it lasted only for a second, because the next thing you knew, the door was being shut in your face with a heavy hand, shivers running down your spine as your back pressed against Yoongi’s chest.

You closed your eyes with a sob escaping your lips, tensing at the feeling of his lips resting against the nape of your neck. A hand wrapped around your waist, holding you tight against him and you knew that he wasn’t letting go this time.

“If you think that you’d be able to outrun me-” he brushed your hair away from your neck, “- then you are so fucking wrong.”

His words were dripping with anger, a cold and hard metal pressing against your back followed by a small click that made your eyes widen. Your lover was holding a gun to your back. And in that moment, you realized that the Yoongi you knew was no longer here. He was far gone and you did that.

“Y-yoongi, I’m so- so sorry, just please don’t hurt me,” You begged, hoping that your cries would melt his heart but who were you kidding?

A loud laugh echoed throughout the room that seemed to close in on you with every second, Yoongi’s reaction making you feel uncomfortable and a lot more scared than you already were.

“My stupid stupid girl,” he growled, suddenly halting his laughter and turning you around to face him. The gun that was behind your back was now held against your jaw, more tears falling from your eyes as the weapon glinted in the dimness of the room and your neck straining to get as far away from it as possible. You averted your gaze to the ceiling, praying that this was all just one horrible dream and that your Yoongi was still the same man you had always known him to be.

“Don’t want me to hurt you, huh?” He questioned, your head shaking in response and making him a lot angrier than he already was. Pushing the gun against your jaw roughly, he moved closer to you, his breath fanning your lips as you whimpered in pain. Your whole body was now shaking, the only scenario your mind conjured was the one where the door behind you was covered in crimson and you were on the floor, lifeless.

“What about how much you hurt me, Y/N?” Yoongi seethed, his eyes red with fury and sorrow, emotions he didn’t care to hide anymore. Because you had stripped him away of all his pretense. He didn’t have to be someone he wasn’t because of you.

Since the beginning of his work, he was always told that he was a villain. A constant villain and that was never going to change. Yoongi had even grown into it, had accepted it with all his being until you had walked into his life. With the kindest eyes, you had smiled at him, not knowing that people like him didn’t deserve your gentleness. Your warmth was with you wherever you went, and it was so overwhelming that even Yoongi grew desperate to be in its orbit. He wanted to be swallowed whole by your gravity and never return to the world that was as dark as his. And even if it shouldn’t have happened, it did. You gave into him and after a few more meetings, you even let him kiss you in the darkness that engulfed you both in his car. The way his name fell from your lips in the sweetest melody was enough to drive him crazy and he swore, no one in the world could ever come close to being as beautiful as you.

But then again, it was all a facade. Whenever Yoongi left you, he was reminded of the fact that he was a monster. And that hiding this from you was only going to get him so far. It all happened quickly yet slowly, his little dream of paradise with you falling apart when someone who wanted to ruin him had let you in on all his secrets, your hands slowly pulling away from him forever. And as the cops took him away, he did nothing but go with them. Because it was too painful to watch you fall to the floor. Too painful to know that the woman he loved had sent him to his doom.

“I did nothing but love you!” He yelled, his fist landing a punch at the door behind you and making you cry harder. His eyes now mirrored the same tearful gaze that you sent his way, his knuckles bleeding with the impact they had just been put through. The expression on his face was evidence that he was hurt by the betrayal you had poured upon him but he had done the same. If he hadn’t been put through six months of torture then maybe he would have tried to understand you. But for now, it was impossible. Min Yoongi hated betrayers and the fact that his own love did this to him was a memory he would never forget.

“All these months, I was in there being beaten to death. Even then, I did nothing but think about you,” he confessed, your cries dying down at his words. Your heart fluttered as you were reminded of the fact that no matter who he was, no one in this whole wide world had ever made you feel as loved as Yoongi. You had always felt like you were at the top of the world. When he kissed you, you felt wanted. When he held onto you every single night, you felt needed. And no one was ever going to come close to making you feel that way.

“I thought you would have realized that my love for you has always been more than anything else I ever did, but I was wrong. Instead, I was welcomed back like I am a fucking murderer.” You turned your eyes to the floor, unable to handle the bitterness of his words. Because somewhere, it was true. His love had always been like no other and that had nearly driven you insane. All these months, a part of you was waiting for him to come back. But a part of you was still afraid, and it was always going to be.

“I am sorry, I didn’t-”

The sound of tyres on the gravel made you leave your words incomplete and turn your head towards the window, your eyebrows furrowing at who it could be. Was it the police? Maybe they had tracked him down.

“Come on, love. We’ll finish this conversation at home.”

You turned to Yoongi with a terrified expression, shaking your head with a string of no’s leaving your mouth. Home. You hadn’t heard of that place in months. There were too many good memories of the place that you used to call home. Because it was a place where Yoongi was, but not anymore.

Sighing in frustration, Yoongi walked towards you and held your wrist in his hand, leaning forward till his lips brushed the shell of your ear.

“I gave you the best of me but that wasn’t enough,” he whispered, tucking your hair behind your ear, gritting his teeth at the way you flinched under his touch. His fingers tightened their grip on your wrist, almost crushing your bone as you tried to push him away, only for him to harshly pull you back against him. The look in his eyes was that of a man gone insane, or maybe it had always been there but you had never noticed. Either way, these eyes are the only ones you’ll be looking at for the rest of your life now. Yoongi was going to make sure of it.

“Now I’ll show you the worst of me and you are going to learn to love it.”

A/N: Hiiiiiiiii you guys! I have been so busy with my last year of college that I constantly feel like screaming in my pillow. *Sigh* but anyway, I'll be back with more members and I'm also sure you've noticed that I've been posting random members for random reactions. I just wanna keep getting stuff out rather than keeping you guys waiting so :D

-XX

#bts #bts imagines #bts reactions #smileyoongle #mafia bts imagines #bts mafia #min yoongi #yoongi reaction #yoongi imagines #mafia!yoongi×reader #dark yoongi au #yoongi mafia au #secrets and lies bts #I'll be back with more members #byeeeee #bts yandere #yandere bts reactions #yandere bts imagines #yandere yoongi #soft yandere bts