#they tell beautiful lies and inadvertent truths

[thedemoninme141]

A thing of beauty I know, Chapter 4: I'm your demon never leaving,

Warnings: Emotionally confused Wednesday? Saw it in Celine's old posts. Stole the "All the ways, lead to you." from her Blade of Miquella.

Previous chapter- 👈

The girl found in the jungle, mutilated and lifeless, had been one of the suspects she herself had placed on her investigation board: Darcy Emerson. Ironic how whoever she suspects being the monster, often is the victim. Now, all she can do is await further evidence. Weems offered assurance that the police would keep her informed of any developments and that they knew Wednesday's skills in these types of situations. But still, Wednesday does not trust them, She always plans to be one step ahead.

"Wednesday, Principal Weems is calling for you. She's asked to see you in her office. It's definitely about Darcy, there are cops there too", Enid informed as she entered their shared room, "And why aren't you picking up my calls?" Wednesday didn't answer, she just got up and left.

And now Wednesday walked through the hall to Weems's office, finally some evidence to develop her investigation. She took out her phone as she might need to take any pictures of the evidence but struggled to open the camera as she wasn't used to this advanced technology, her Polaroid camera had stopped working. Principal Weems looked up as Wednesday entered, Wednesday noticed the new Sheriff there with another cop.

"Miss Addams, please have a seat," Principal Weems gestured to a chair opposite her desk, Wednesday obliged.

"Wednesday is highly skilled at remembering small details about anyone, I am pretty sure she would recognize what you found Sherrif.

"We've found some minor evidence at the scene," the sheriff spoke up "Including this locket. Darcy's roommate has confirmed it didn't belong to her."

 Wednesday watched as the officer placed the evidence bag containing the locket on the table before her. Her heart skipped a beat as she recognized the familiar shape. She felt her blood run cold. How... it's in her wardrobe where her important belongings are, the guitar-pick-shaped locket you gave her, even if she broke up with you she kept it close. Sometimes holding it whenever she missed you. How did it get there?

Wednesday couldn't dwell on her thoughts fast as she had to come up with something because obviously, she couldn't tell them it was hers, she already had a "piranha" case from her last school, and the sheriff would doubt her. 

"Miss Addams?" the sheriff's voice cut through her reverie, jolting her back to the present. "Do you recognize this locket?"

"I'm afraid I don't recognize it, " Wednesday replied, her voice steady despite the turmoil roiling within her. 

Principal Weems regarded her with a curious tilt of her head, "That's rather peculiar, considering your reputation for meticulous observation," she remarked, her tone tinged with skepticism. "Nonetheless, we've reached out to the resident guitarist who might be able to shed some light on the matter. She should be joining us shortly."

Resident guitarist... 

"You called me, Miss Weems?" Your voice, tinged with confusion, sent a jolt of shivers through her spine.

As you entered the room, Wednesday felt a surge of panic grips her chest. The last she felt panic like this was when she found out Tyler was the Hyde. But that meant he was the murderer, this time the fingers would be pointed towards her. Her mind raced with apprehension, fearing that you might inadvertently reveal the truth about the locket. She had just lied to the authorities, denying any knowledge of the locket's origin,

As the conversation between you and the sheriff unfolded, Wednesday struggled to focus. She had always been the investigator, the accuser but now, she found herself on the precipice of becoming the main suspect. It was a role she never imagined she would play.

She watched your eyes closely, searching for any sign of recognition or understanding. There was a flicker of something in your gaze perhaps recognition, or maybe just confusion. It was hard to tell amidst the chaos of emotions swirling within her.

"That is a very beautiful locket," you remarked, your voice cutting through the tension in the room. "Unfortunately, they are sold quite often in our concerts. It could be owned by anyone."

Wednesday couldn't help but feel a pang of confusion at your words. Why were you helping her? You knew the truth that the locket belonged to her yet you chose to protect her. It was a gesture of trust that she couldn't quite comprehend.

"Okay, sorry for keeping you both here. You can go now," the Sheriff said, dismissing them.

Without so much as a glance in Wednesday's direction, you turned and made your way out of the room. Wednesday hesitated for a moment, her mind racing with questions and doubts. Did you suspect her? Did you believe she was somehow involved in Darcy's murder?

Wednesday hurried to catch up with you, her heart pounding with anticipation. As she reached your side, she hesitated for a moment before speaking, her voice cautious yet tinged with urgency. 

"Y/n," she began, her tone betraying the turmoil swirling within her. "I... I need to ask you something."

You turned to face her, your expression unreadable. "What is it, Wednesday?" you asked, your voice gentle and yet it sounded so guarded, making Wednesday more nervous about what your answer might be. She took a deep breath.

"You knew that was my locket, you gave it to me. So why didn't you tell them the truth? Do you... do you think I had anything to do with what happened to Darcy?" Wednesday blurted out, her words tumbling out in a rush. She couldn't bear the thought of you doubting her, of seeing suspicion cloud your gaze.

"You regarded her for a moment, your eyes searching hers as if trying to decipher the truth hidden within. 

"I don't know what to think, Wednesday," you admitted, your voice tinged with uncertainty.

"You can check my mind, read my memories if you don't believe me." Wednesday offered. 

"I don't have to Wednesday, We've been together enough for me to know this isn't you, I trust you." 

Wednesday felt a mixture of relief and gratitude. Despite the doubts that lingered in the back of her mind, knowing that you believed in her was enough to quell the rising tide of fear within her.

"Thank you," Wednesday murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "I... I appreciate that."

You offered her a reassuring smile and started humming as you walked towards your room. Wednesday stopped in her tracks, her heart fluttering at the familiar sound. It had been so long since she heard you humming like that. Wednesday starts to think, did she really make the choice? Was there any chance she could've changed herself for you? With a heavy sigh, she reluctantly tore herself away and trudged back to her dorm, Enid waiting for her. Her concerned voice broke through her reverie as she entered the room, pulling her back to the present. "Wednesday, are you alright?"

"Go to sleep Enid." Wednesday just took her shoes off and went to bed, Maybe she was just tired, her mind weary from the constant tug-of-war between what she wanted and what she believed she deserved. Or maybe, it was only there, in the realm of slumber, that she could find solace in the imagined embrace of your arms

"Wednesday... stop.. please.." you managed to croak out as Wednesday's hand closed around your throat, lifting your entire body effortlessly. With each passing moment, her grip tightened, squeezing the life from your lungs. Your eyes pleaded for mercy, but they met only the darkness in Wednesday's gaze.

Wednesday's eyes snapped open, and her breath caught in her throat. She found herself in a cold sweat, the echo of your desperate plea ringing in her ears. Gasping for air, she struggled to shake off the terror that clung to her like a suffocating fog. Her room lay silent around her as Enid slept soundly on her side.

She looked at her hands. She could still feel the weight of your body in her hand, the sound of your voice choked with desperation. But why? Why would she ever harm you? She loves...

She sighed, it had to be a nightmare, but why did it feel like one of her visions? She struggled to make sense of this. This must be a nightmare, she would never hurt you, it has to be her own emotions going against her.

Wednesday pushed herself out of bed, her mind already racing with possibilities. She needed answers, and she needed them now.

But how can she get anything now? the crime scene must've been cleared by the police and she now has to find a way to get to the morgue.

"I don't just use my telepathy to chat with people, Wednesday, I can control them, I can drive people to madness, unearth their deepest regrets, their deepest fears. I could destroy them if I wanted to."

No matter how much she tries to get away from you, to keep you out, she always ends up back in the same place: with you. All the ways, lead to you. Next Chapter

#wednesday x reader #wednesday addams x reader #angst #wednesday adams x reader #wednesday addams x female reader #wednesday #wednesday addams angst #wednesday addams fanfic #wednesday addams x you #wednesday angst #wednesdayaddams #wednesday addams x fem!reader #wednesday x fem reader #wednesday x female reader #wednesday x you #wednesday addams #wednesday netflix #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega

[authorjoyroyal]

How does one explain the overwhelming and complete feeling of utter hideousness that washes over the consciousness in the most honest moments? How does one do this without being seen as vain, frivolous, neurotic, derogatory, delusional, competitive, vain, or attention-seeking? How, without causing harm to those around me, either by their comparisons to themselves or by the unfair responsibility of correcting my own self-view that I am inadvertently placing on their shoulders?

How to explain that a mirror can support the hypothesis that I am not the MOST hideous visage to ever wander the earth, but also wholeheartedly support the hypothesis that I am unequivically hideous, and unworthy of any good thing? How does one explore the depths of self-view, navigate the paths of self-hatred, and puzzle through the fathoms of identity issues that have led to this place… this place of equating a lack of positive external appearance to a lack of all value?… well no…. A deep sense of lack of value exists within me either way…. But I digress….

How does one reconcile the views of others to the view of self? The view of past self with the view of present self? How does one correct the cognitive dissonance of loved ones’ positive affirmations with the settled, solid truth of how convinced I am of my own view? How can they not despise me for the way I’ve changed, when each day and each bite has lead me further into utter grotesqueness? How can I not despise myself for letting this happen? For not holding on to the skinnier, younger, “happier”, fitter, sexier me that used to come with only reasonable effort, and now feels millions of miles out of reach?

How do I reconcile someone telling me I am still their “goal” size, when I am so clearly unworthy of any physical praise or admiration? How do I explain that I am not lying when I say my friends are beautiful and I am hideous, even if they are the same size/shape/aesthetic as I am?

How do I ask for clarification? “How crazy am I?” How much of this is my mind playing dastardly tricks on my consciousness, convincing me of my own worthlessness and repulsiveness? And how much is just the unwelcome truth? Is it really possible that my eternal self-awareness has somehow perished completely when it comes to my own appearance, or is the unpleasant reality more that I must come to terms with worthlessness? How do I know? “I knew it. If I look far enough, someone will verify my self-hatred.”…. but that’s the thing, isn’t it? It’s SELF-hatred. Other opinions have nothing to do with the reality, and therein lies the rub.

How do you view yourself kindly- when the true narrative might be one of failure and ugliness?

#body image #self image #self hatred #therapy

[loverhymeswith]

Wait So Long | Erik Heller x F!Reader

Summary: A much needed part 2 to After Hours. Can't a girl catch a break!?

Warnings: 18+ only. Smut ahead. F masturbation, oral sex F receiving.

Word Count: 1,484 words.

A/N: A big thank you to @bewitchedignition for the prompts! Erik has been on my mind all day! 💖

Back in the quiet solitude of your own home, your own bed, your mind is fixed firmly on thoughts of Erik. Big, beautiful, strong, capable Erik. If not for Hanna’s interruption, what would the two of you be doing right now? Would he be inside you? How good would he be making you feel?

Tossing and turning beneath the thin cotton sheets, frustration bubbles beneath the surface of your skin. The raging fire that Erik ignited within your veins refuses to die.

I’m thinking about you.

His message remains unanswered, filling the screen of your phone, where it lies abandoned on the bedside table. A beacon of hope; a promise for the future perhaps, now that you know your desire is mutual.

You can’t bring yourself to reply yet, afraid of what you might inadvertently admit, but you’re thinking about him, too.

From the moment your hands slipped beneath the waistband of your sleep shorts, you've been imagining that it’s Erik touching you, parting your slick folds with his thick, deft fingers.

Closing your eyes, his face instantly fills your vision. A pair of soft hazel eyes so at odds with his sharp jawline; delicate lips curling into the hint of a smile whenever he looks your way.

As you work your fingers feverishly over the sensitive bundle of nerves at your core, a familiar coiling tension tightens low in your belly, and heat spreads across your chest. You imagine that it’s Erik slotted between your thighs, coaxing you towards your release with gentle praise.

You whisper his name into the dark.

A harsh knock on the front door shatters your building climax. You curse loudly and fling back the covers. Fate is surely conspiring against you tonight. Can't a girl get a break!?

Conscious of your half-dressed and flustered state, you grab a jacket from the back of the door, before marching into the hallway.

Experience tells you that the late-night visitor will once again be your elderly neighbour from the apartment upstairs. She's forever losing her cat and seems to forget that past midnight is not an acceptable time for a social call. You've tried ignoring her, but the woman is as persistent as she is absent-minded.

Schooling your features into a mask of pleasant surprise, you unlatch the front door. But it's not Mrs Evans waiting on the other side.

“E-Erik?”

Your shock is clearly evident, as the corners of his mouth uptick into a small grin. Equally, you don't miss the way his gaze darkens as it travels over your bare thighs.

"What-what are you doing here?”

"You didn't answer my message. I wanted to make sure you got home safely."

There's no way you're admitting the truth behind your lack of response. Erik doesn't need to know what you were doing only moments earlier. Fumbling for something to say, you settle on, “What about Hanna?”

Amused, he raises an eyebrow. “She’s perfectly capable of taking care of herself.”

If it had been anyone other than Erik, you might have been insulted by the implication that you weren't capable of looking after yourself. But with the way that he's standing there in the doorway, framed by the fluorescent hallway lights and looking like sin made flesh…

“Are you going to let me in?”

"Uh, sure." You step back, allowing him to enter. As he brushes past you, another white hot flame of desire licks your veins. Erik is here, in your apartment, after everything you were just thinking about.

Anticipation mixes with your lingering arousal, and suddenly it's difficult to breathe.

"I hope you don't mind," he says, almost as an afterthought, when you finally turn to face him. His eyes are bright, even in the dim light of your living room.

Hoping he doesn't notice the way your thighs are clenched, you shake your head. "Not at all. Can I…can I get you something to drink?"

A few hours ago you were all but naked before him, so why do you suddenly feel so shy?

In an uncharacteristic display of uncertainty, Erik scrubs a hand over his jaw. "I might not have been completely honest about my reason for coming here."

"Oh?"

He takes a few steps closer. Close enough that you could reach out and touch him if you wanted to. "I really couldn't stop thinking about you. In fact, I thought I would die if I didn’t get to touch you again, if I didn't get to taste you…"

Erik has always been a smooth talker. He knows exactly how to get what he wants. But there's no cockiness in his tone tonight. You know him well enough now to understand that he's being sincere.

You close the distance in a single stride, and just like that, his lips crash into yours. Right where they belong.

His broad, calloused hands rise to cup your cheeks, keeping you moulded to his mouth as he deepens the kiss with a sweep of his tongue. Your own fingers clutch the rough material of his jacket, tugging tightly until you're dragging him backwards into the bedroom.

Well-practiced, the two of you make short work of stripping out of your clothes, until your fingers can dance once more across the rigid plane of his scar-flecked chest and below. He's beautiful, almost ethereal, in the soft glow of the lamp light.

Ignoring the tousled sheets, Erik lays you down on the bed, his large body hovering above you. You’ve seen first hand what this body is capable of; Erik Heller is a dangerous man. But in his arms, you’ve never felt safer.

Pressing his lips to the curve of your throat, he whispers, "I didn't want to leave you in any doubt about how this evening was supposed to end."

You just have time to gaze up into his eyes, before you feel his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs, pushing your legs apart so that he can slot between them. Gasping at the sensation of being so utterly bare before him, you almost miss the single word he utters.

"Beautiful."

Heat rushes to your cheeks and your chest as you find Erik watching you, his eyes wide with wonder. With a start, you realise that the evidence of your earlier arousal must be as clear as day.

“Tell me something," he murmurs, voice so rough with his own desire that it distracts you from your embarrassment. "Do you think of me when you touch yourself?”

You can’t bring yourself to feel ashamed when he's looking at you like this, and when he trails a single finger along your glistening core, the admission slips from your parted lips. "Yes."

There's a glimmer of quiet satisfaction in his expression, and without another word, Erik moves down your body, kissing and nipping and licking at your flesh, until he reaches the apex of your thighs. Every nerve in your body is alight and he's barely touched you.

When his head dips between your legs and his hot, wet tongue licks a stripe along your centre, you cry out, fisting the sheets. He's surely going to kill you. He repeats the action, again and again and again…

It isn't long before his hands join his mouth, spreading you open before he plunges two fingers inside. It's a delightful burn, adding to the pressure already building at your core.

You continue to whimper and writhe beneath him while he laves at your clit. His fingers are massaging your inner walls, hitting that sweet spot over and over and it's just too much. Too much, but not enough. You need more. You need all of him.

Erik tears his mouth away, and you whimper at the loss of contact. "What pretty noises you're making for me… am I making you feel good?”

"Yes, Erik," you pant as he continues to pump his fingers into you. "You're making me feel so good."

Beneath his ministrations, your body is taught like a bow. Your nerves are ready to snap. He's taking responsibility for your pleasure in the same way that he makes sure you’re safe out in the field. Like it's the most important thing in the world.

"I want you to come for me now, beautiful. You can do that, can't you?"

"Yes."

He coaxes you towards your release, patiently guiding you in that same calm, controlled manner as when he helps you with target practice. "That's it. Just like that. You can do it."

And when your climax suddenly and violently and finally crashes over you, he's right there murmuring praise as he presses kisses to your thighs.

Slowly coming down from the high, you clutch at his shoulders pulling him up towards you. You can't hide the desperation from your voice when you ask him, "How long can you stay?"

A wry smile tugs at Erik's glistening lips. "Hanna isn't expecting me home tonight."

Joel Taglist: @a-reader-and-a-writer @babblydrabbly @sociiallydiisoriiented @skvatnavle @yespolkadotkitty @fairchildflag @edwardbaldwin @phoenixhalliwell @mayhem24-7forever @immyownlittlebitch @s-u-t @heresathreebee @bewitchedignition @weallhaveadestiny @lavenderluna10 @kirsteng42 @katjnordstrom96

#erik heller #Joel kinnaman #hanna series #erik heller x you #erik heller x reader #erik heller imagine #erik heller appreciation hours

[eternally6pm]

Sorry to hear about your writers block!! I'd love to read something about them fighting together and/or taking care of each other after a battle!!

There was time, he tried to convince himself, lied, because any other truth in that moment was unthinkable as he raised Fujin Yumi and drew, the air burning like fire in his lungs. 

The arrow found the throat of the archer a mere second too late, and even as he immediately launched into a full sprint, he could only watch, grounded and helpless as steel tore a horrific gash through the wing of Camilla’s mount, and it plummeted with a piercing shriek. 

Immediately, the pack of outlaws swarmed like ants, converging on her. Again, Takumi was forced to stop, skidding to a halt on the edge of a bursting exhalation that made his ears ring as the muscles in his arm strained against the juddering turbulence of the bow string and he loosed two arrows that screamed towards their targets, cracking fatally through flesh and bone. 

Camilla sprang from her fallen wyvern, her axe swinging a gleaming arc to meet the first of them in a violent crash of steel and a coiling spray of crimson left in the wake of a head, shorn clean from its neck and another falling, his spine severed. 

There was still time. 

Another arrow, the final one before close quarters rendered Fujin Yumi useless, and Takumi drew his sword, breathless with desperation to reach her. 

But they were too many all at once, even as Camilla rent the limbs from the men that surrounded her, others took aim - and now there was no time left. 

The blow struck her in the side, a massive, swinging spiked club that caught in the plates of her armour, making her stagger, and it was all Takumi could do, to throw himself, blade and body before her and let the edge of the axe come crashing down on him.

She screamed. 

Or perhaps, he imagined she did, all the sound in his ears suddenly mute as he felt something shift, break, rupture unnaturally as he staggered, stupefied, unprepared for the crushing swing of a hammer. His ribs crunched, expelling the last of his breath and he watched the world tilt wildly, falling away until all he could see was sky.

And oh, she was indeed screaming now, roaring like a beast enraged, the predator she truly was. 

Takumi heaved for air, coughed and tasted blood against his teeth, filling his mouth. He tried and failed to raise his arm, to stand, but nothing obeyed, his fingers numb, his legs like lead.

He was dying, he realised, and the notion brought him a strange sensation of calm.

But suddenly, Camilla had returned, her voice distant, frantic, and she tried to gather him, screaming this time, names: Elise, Sakura, Jakob, help.

The irony of dying for someone he hated was not lost on him, but she was… beautiful, he finally allowed himself to admit, truly, deeply kind. Someone worth the lives it took to protect. In these final moments, seeing tears streak tracks through the blood on her face, he felt perhaps he had never hated her at all.

He had repaid his debt; she was safe. It was pitiful consolation, but it would have to be enough for one as pathetic as him. 

Leave me, he wanted to tell her, even as she shook her head, crying commands to stay awake, but he was so very tired, and it was an easy thing, to release his grasp and let the merciful darkness finally claim him.

—

There was pain before there was anything else, like being torn open, cut apart slowly on the edge of a ragged blade.

Even breathing brought pain, a thousand sharp hooks in his chest as he inhaled deeply and groaned, an inadvertent sound that triggered a chain of discomfort: sore head, stiff legs, dry throat - the unnatural sensation of being displaced, somewhere he shouldn’t be.

And then a hand, gentle, cool, upon his forehead, softly, against his cheek.

Mother, he thought, relieved. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, young prince,” came the reply. “You’ll have to settle for me.”

It was light, blue-green and strangely harsh that came first with a faint hum, but then faded, and in the wan glow, he saw, and started to understand. 

He was in his own quarters, his own bed, and the light had come from a large round polished stone at the foot of it. It glimmered dimly for the moment, its colours shifting indigo-green, familiar.

A Dragon Vein.

And upon the stone, the hand of Camilla, slowly lifting as she stepped towards him again, watching him with an inscrutable smile.

"Welcome back."

How strange. He flexed his fingers and found them working, though the movement drove fire through his left shoulder, pain so severe that he wrenched the sheet away with his right in a near panic, worried that he was somehow spilling blood into the bed.

His fingertips found the stiff traces of scar tissue running a long thin track from almost the middle of his chest, up past his clavicle and beyond where his shoulder met his neck. 

“Any deeper and they would have found your heart,” Camilla said quietly.

All at once, his mind flooded with detail - the edge of an axe, shattering bone, the falling shadow of a wyvern, running, running, and Camilla at the centre of it all, drenched in the blood of her foes as he lay at her feet, prone and broken -

“Leave,” Takumi croaked. 

She frowned at him.

“Get out,” he tried again, and her frown grew deeper. Ignoring his instruction, she stepped over to the table by his bed to draw water into a glass from a pitcher. 

“I don’t want you here -”

“Nonsense,” she said tersely, sliding a hand beneath his pillow to support him as she held the glass to his lips. “You’ll have me whether you like it or not. If you don’t want me here, you shouldn’t have saved my life.”

Resentment, white hot, settled in the pit of his stomach, even as he gratefully accepted the water, draining the glass. 

“Where are the healers?” He demanded.

She lowered him with a sigh and set the glass down, perhaps a little harder than she intended. “You’ve no need for them - you are mended. There is no more healing to be done.”

“Sakura -”

“Worked for hours, without rest. I sent her away, she needs sleep - she needs peace.”

He thought of his sister, pouring her soul into saving his ruined body, the shame of Hinoka and Ryoma learning that their brother had almost fallen, split down the middle like a blade of grass. And of Camilla, who watched him falter and fail, like a brittle blade, shattering on impact.

He clenched his eyes shut. “Then I will wait. Just leave me be.”

“You can hardly move from the pain,” she admonished, her words clipped in irritation. “Let me help, and for once in your life, do not be stubborn.”

“I don’t want your help. I don’t want to see you.”

She scowled coldly. “Then why even choose to save me? If you hate me so much, what was the point in saving my life?”

“I can’t lose any more!” Searing pain erupted through his side, and he had to bite down on a cry, barely resisting the impulse to double in on himself. The agony made him miserable, made him want to snarl and bite, to capitulate, crumble and fade into nothing.

Camilla stood silent as he caught his breath, and struggled to rein his temper.

“Look at me. I am broken - I cannot even draw a bow. If I failed to save even you, then what use am I? No better than a decoration, a toy.” He huffed a short, bitter laugh. “You should have left me to rot.”

Still, she said nothing, simply regarded him with arms folded and ice in her stare.

“You would be better off without the burden.”

At this, her stance bristled, her back straightening and her eyes flashing like the after image of a spell, the same aura that glinted at the cruel edge of her weapon. “Are you quite done?” She asked sharply.

It was his turn to fall silent. 

“Good. Let me ask you, Prince Takumi, if you think of me so little that you would save my life and then tell me to disregard the value of yours.”

He blinked at her, unable to fathom a response. 

"No answer? Then allow me to propose that you do not actually think me that little, and I am of at least some worth.”

He flinched at her approach, but she did little more than smooth the sheets down with a hand, and perch elegantly on the edge of the bed.

 “If you are truly the prince I know you must be, then it is only proper that you would pay the same regard to those I consider worthy."

She grasped his chin and leaned close, and the scent of roses on her skin carried her words like those in a dream.

"And I consider you most worthy."

And suddenly the frost dissipated, the warmth returning to her gaze, her voice, the gentle stroke of her fingertips as she touched them to his cheek.

"Don't be ridiculous. And do not dare insult me by disrespecting those I care for most."

Takumi's silence now was unbidden, a swell of adoration he had to labour against in his chest, his throat, warmth stinging behind his eyes. She was still somehow compassionate even when he tried to elicit nothing but contempt, and she was wrong in a thousand ways, because if he was anything in that moment at all, he was certainly not worthy of her.

"Now. Let me help you. You must recover, for if I am again in dire need, I expect you to once more to assist." 

She smiled, and bowing her head, pressed a soft kiss to the scar on his chest.

Takumi felt his face flush with heat.

"Wh-what is this?"

"A Nohrian… custom," she explained, smiling now like she intended something much worse. "It’s called kissing it better." 

She bent again, and kissed him, lower. The sensation of her lips sparked something within him that burned uncontrollably, destroying any semblance of sensible thought.

"Stop," he said urgently.

"Does it hurt?" She asked, every part a picture of innocence. 

"N-no, I just -"

Higher this time, at his collar. All of the blood in his head rushed away, heat pooling low in his torso and making his voice weak.

"Princess, you can't -"

She pressed a kiss to neck now and the sound that he made left him mortified. 

"Stop," he begged.

She glanced at him in pure amusement, tucking her hair nonchalantly behind an ear. "It's all right. I do this for my little brother all the time."

He burnt with embarrassment, with shame and in the midst of his hazy indignation, he felt wretched disappointment. "I am not your little brother."

"No, of course not.” She stood at last, releasing him like a plaything spent, her fun complete. “My little brother isn't nearly as adorable as you, Prince Takumi."

---

You are. So kind!! Thank you for coming to help me, and for your kind words. It’s a timely request - I intended to write a couple such scenes in my fic, so… if these work, you might see them again, expanded and as part of a bigger whole. That's also why there is presumed knowledge that Camilla has already saved his life once - though it was not enough to earn his trust. 

Honestly speaking, I’m not sure this is what you were looking for - it’s probably a smidge darker than you’d probably like. I might try again at a later date if I feel inspired to write something about them just kicking ass in battle (because we all know they stronk), and then… I dunno, getting drunk afterwards, in celebration.

I errr also intended for these to be really quick and much shorter, but it kind of grew out of my control, and with no second reader or editing, so it's pretty raw. 

Thank you for waiting! And hit me with any additional requests, as many as you like!

#skynovakin #ask #Takumilla #Takumi #Camilla #Fire Emblem Fates #fanfiction #short #hurt comfort #and then discomfort #so much discomfort

[seasurfacefullofclouds1]

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#fic anon #I will confess I have loved some fics a lot back in the day #some of the biggest fic writers in the fandom have left or are harries now #or they vastly prefer Harry and ‘tolerate’ Louis (like the Taylor song) #and at first it’s a shock to realize it #but then you realize #no author can be perfect #just like no human being is perfect #fics are a little like pop songs #they tell beautiful lies and inadvertent truths #and they cannot substitute for real therapy. real help. real friendships. real feelings. #they aren’t real. unfortunately it is unrealistic to expect too much of the authors. they are human too. #forgive and then move on with your life. #as Louis would say. ‘It’s all part of the process.’ #also read cassandraatthegate’s tags #brilliant as always #I think about HSHQ datamining fics #to feed back to Larries #and I feel sick thinking about how they drink it all in #the self-created addiction that is used for Harry’s apotheosis and Louis’ destruction #the perpetuation of harm to Louis #so perfectly encapsulated by Euphoria

[i-like-plan-m]

If you're accepting prompts, how about one where people either can't lie to LWJ or he can tell when they're lying, and he inadvertently discovers a whole bunch of stuff WWX would rather he didn't (could be either WWX's low self worth, or his intense LWJ-based thirst!)

such a good prompt omg thank you [Posted to Ao3]

It was a curse, some said. A gift, according to others. The sect debated for years on the technicalities and argued their differing opinions over Lan Zhan’s head until Lan Qiren insisted the sect leave his nephew alone.

No one ever asked Lan Zhan what he thought.

He considered it neither a gift nor a curse. It was simply a part of him, the same as his golden core.

Except while a golden core was perfectly normal, Lan Zhan’s ability to detect any lie— spoken or unspoken— was less so. He heard falsehoods like music; words were notes, conversations were harmonies, and lies were the jarring wrong note that scraped harshly across his ears.

The hardest part was learning the reasons for a lie. Lan Zhan did not understand people the way his brother did, could only hear their lies and quietly disapprove. But Lan Xichen spent hours upon hours with him, testing the bounds of the skill and gently pointing out the different types of lies, and why the distinctions were important.

Sometimes, he’d said, people lie to protect themselves or others. Sometimes a lie is kinder than the truth. They were not all born of malicious intent, and he’d taught Lan Zhan how to distinguish between them. How to identify the dangerous lies, the harmful ones, and those that were best left unacknowledged out of kindness or respect.

Lan Xichen had been eternally patient, remarkably encouraging, and quietly concerned about the effect this curse would have on his little brother. Lan Zhan had seen it in his face, the nonverbal lie reading to him like a whisper every time Lan Xichen smiled to hide his worry.

His brother had never asked about the source of the curse or gift or whatever the sect considered it; Lan Zhan suspected he had his own theories, and Lan Xichen’s guesses would most certainly be better than the elders’.

But only Lan Zhan knew its origins for sure.

His mother had been lied to, once, and as a result had spent the rest of her days a prisoner in a small, lonely house. His clearest memory of his mother was her holding him close, tucking him into her lap and wrapping her arms around him in a loving, protective cocoon. It was the safest he had ever felt.

He’d been too young to recognize his mother’s sorrow for what it was at the time, the way she’d clearly known her death was approaching. But he remembered the quiet words she’d whispered to him, words of love and fear and protectiveness. The way her golden core had enveloped him, warm and steady, as she made sure her youngest son would not live in a house of lies and silence like her.

It was her greatest gift to him, and her last.

~*~

Lan Zhan knew the sound of a lie. So when a particularly irritating disciple arrived and immediately began causing trouble, Lan Zhan expected any number of lies from the boy. He was eager, even, for vindication for his own prejudice against such a disrespectful nuisance.

But Wei Ying had a way of talking that sounded like slurred notes to Lan Zhan’s highly trained ear. He was all chaos and deflection, and Lan Zhan experienced something uncomfortably like whiplash trying to keep up with the words in Wei Ying’s never-ending chatter.

It could not have been deliberate— no one outside of the Lan Sect’s elders and his own family knew of Lan Zhan’s particular skill— but nonetheless Wei Ying avoided giving straight answers, topics sliding sideways and off course with a joke, a question of his own, or some wildly inappropriate comment that made Lan Zhan too furious to focus.  

He was infuriating.

He was beautiful.

Somehow that was worse.

Lan Zhan did not bother to look over as Wei Ying bickered with his sect brother, not in any mood to deal with him or his own feelings about the biggest troublemaker he’d ever met in his life.

Wei Ying’s laugh rang over the courtyard, bright and happy as he slung an arm over Jiang Wanyin’s shoulders, ignoring the sect heir’s incensed protests. “Don’t lie, shidi, I know you love me!”

The lie sounded like a gong in Lan Zhan’s head, startling him so badly that he stumbled to an awkward stop and snapped his head around to stare at Wei Ying, who was for once paying him no attention.

His ever-present smile was in place, nothing false or fixed about it. Wei Ying wore happiness and humor like armor, and Lan Zhan wondered if anyone had ever seen past it. He hadn’t… until now.

Lies were interesting things. Sometimes entire speeches were a lie (for instance, everything that came out of Jin Guangshan’s mouth). Sometimes gestures held the lie, such as Nie Huaisang’s amiable nod of agreement whenever his older brother ordered him to go train with his saber. And sometimes the lie was only a single word.

I know you love me. The low, booming signal of Wei Ying’s lie was significant for two reasons: the timing, and the strength of the sound. The greater the lie, the louder the noise, and this one had left a painful echo in Lan Zhan’s ears from the force of it. And the timing… the lie had been marked on a single word: love.

I know you love me. But Wei Ying did not believe this, not even a little.

Lan Zhan… did not know what to do with this revelation.

By the end of class that day, during which Wei Ying had been bellowed at by Lan Qiren and handed off to Lan Zhan for yet another punishment, he still had not figured out what to do about it. He would have gone to his brother for advice, because Xichen always helped him find the right thing to do, but lately his brother had a terrible light of laughter in his eyes every time Lan Zhan mentioned Wei Ying, and he was not about to willingly subject himself to that indignity.

So he was left to his own devices. Lan Zhan stared down at his scroll, not reading a single word of it because of to Wei Ying’s indecent sprawl across a nearby desk. He was humming innocently, like Lan Zhan couldn’t see him urging a tiny paper man on a march towards Lan Zhan’s pot of ink.

“Focus on your work,” Lan Zhan said sternly, capturing the figure just before it dipped its little arms in the bowl and went on a rampage.

“Ugh, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying whined, flopping over the desk. “This is so boring, how can you stand it? Not even Madam Yu would make me do all this!”

Lan Zhan studied the paper man in the cage of his fingers. This was a chance to learn more, he thought, about Wei Wuxian’s life in Yunmeng. Maybe even about why he did not believe his own brother loved him.

Why do you care? This does not concern you. Lan Zhan mutinously banished the thought and set the paper man free to explore the stack of books on his desk.

Hesitantly, he asked, “Do you like Lotus Pier?”

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying laughed. “What kind of question is that?”

Lan Zhan felt the familiar surge of frustration at the deflection; he could never get a straight answer out of Wei Ying, and it was a source of much aggravation.

“You mention punishments at Lotus Pier frequently,” he said instead of pinning Wei Ying to the floor until he got a truthful answer. The image sent a flash of heat through him, and he held himself very, very still until he had control over himself again.

“Eh.” Wei Ying waved a dismissive hand. “I get in trouble everywhere, Lan Zhan, whether I mean to or not.”

Truth.

“Are you punished in similar ways?” Lan Zhan asked, looking pointedly at Wei Ying’s abandoned paper of half-copied rules.

“No one gives punishments like the Lans. Don’t worry, your sect’s reputation is still the most feared of all!”

Not true, because anyone with half a brain knew to be wary of Wen Ruohan. This lie was like a slipped finger on the string of a qin, a short, wavering note that was discordant and vaguely unsettling. An untruth, technically, but said as a joke, as a sort-of truth because both of them knew the statement wasn’t genuine and that they other knew it as well.

Lan Zhan had a headache.

He tried a different track. “You were adopted by Sect Leader Jiang?”

Wei Ying sat up, propping his elbows on his desk and studying him for a moment before grinning. “So many questions, Lan Zhan! If I didn’t know better, I’d think you want to be friends.”

It was said teasingly, and the lie was held in the latter part of the sentence— Wei Ying did not believe Lan Zhan wanted to be friends. That, combined with the frustration of yet another question avoided, made Lan Zhan say, “It seems you do not know better.”

Embarrassingly, his heart was pounding at the admission. Lan Zhan had never had a friend before, other than his brother, and he certainly did not know how to make them. But he knew that he wanted to spend time with Wei Ying more and more often, even though part of him rebelled at the thought.

It was oddly silent in the library. Lan Zhan knew his ears were flushed red with embarrassment and uncertainty, and he waited with bated breath for Wei Ying to tease him again, to deflect with another laugh or joke that kindly disguised the fact that he did not want to be Lan Zhan’s friend, that Lan Zhan was too stiff and weird and boring to be anyone’s friend.

A little nauseated, Lan Zhan lifted his eyes from his paper and gathered his courage to look at the other boy.

Wei Ying was gaping at him like a fish.

“Friends?” He finally managed. Lan Zhan dropped his eyes back to the desk and said nothing, couldn’t speak past the lump in his throat. “You don’t want to be my friend!”

His gaze flickered back towards Wei Ying. The statement was untrue, obviously, but it was a lie that Wei Ying believed to be true, so it sounded like a half-missed note on a flute. Easily corrected, quickly covered, but there nonetheless.

“Says who?” Lan Zhan asked, wondering… hoping…

Wei Ying blinked at him for a moment, visibly stumped. Ridiculously, it made Lan Zhan feel as though he’d won something. Triumph over being the one to shock Wei Ying into uncharacteristic silence for once.

As expected, it didn’t last long.

Traitorous fondness glowed in his chest as Wei Ying planted his hands on the desk and raised himself onto his knees with an indignant expression. His hair fell in disarray around his face, a half-tied red ribbon spilling over his shoulder and against rumpled robes.

“You did!” Wei Ying said, outraged. “I said we should be friends on the first night!”

He’d said a lot of things that first night, Lan Zhan thought with reluctant amusement. Lan Zhan had forgotten most of it thanks to the veil of rage that had overtaken him as he chased a beautiful boy under the moonlight.

“Hm,” Lan Zhan said, dismissive, mostly just to watch Wei Ying’s expression contort into disbelief. “Did you ask?”

Wei Ying spluttered. “Of course I asked!” He said too loudly, and then cocked his head like he’d heard the ring of the lie, too. “Oh. Huh, I guess I didn’t ask, now that I think about it.”

He looked at Lan Zhan with a gleam in his eye. Lan Zhan had only a second to think, uh oh, and then Wei Ying had vaulted over his desk to land on his knees across from him.

“Lan Zhan,” he whispered, leaning in like they were sharing secrets. Lan Zhan’s hear thundered in his ears as Wei Ying grinned conspiratorially at him and leaned in close enough that Lan Zhan could smell the floral scent of his hair oil, the tinge of chili oil that he’d smuggled into the Cloud Recesses and then at some point spilled on his sleeve. “I want to be your friend. Do you want to be friends?”

Lan Zhan savored the silence around his words— I want to be your friend, he’d said, with no single hint of a lie— and tried not to let the mischievous glint in Wei Ying’s eye distract him.

It was too late, though. The seed of mischief had taken root in Lan Zhan, which was why he said with a perfectly straight face, “Hm. I will have to think about it.”

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying squawked with indignation, and then must have caught the tiny curl of Lan Zhan’s mouth because he exploded into laughter a second later. “Were you teasing me just now? Lan Zhan, I can’t believe this.”  

Quietly pleased with himself, Lan Zhan watched as Wei Ying laughed until he ran out of air, falling onto his back with his usual exuberant expressiveness. The laughter was a joyous sound, bright and honest, and hearing it in one of his favorite places made Lan Zhan’s chest feel warm and tight.

His mother would have liked him, Lan Zhan thought wistfully. For his humor, his irrepressible love of life, his fearlessness. His heart felt too big for his chest as he listened to Wei Ying laugh, unrestrained emotion where only disciplined constraint had ever been permitted.

He would investigate Wei Ying’s beliefs about his own worth later, he decided. They were friends now, so this was allowed.

For now, though, he let the clear, ringing music of Wei Ying’s laughter fill the room. Basked in the warmth he hadn’t felt since his mother had been alive, and softened enough to smile back at Wei Ying.

#y'all have sent me some fantastic prompts #this one was fun #the untamed #wangxian #lan zhan #lan wangji #wei ying #wei wuxian #mdzs #asks #anon #prompts #my writing #my fics

[gohyuck]

this is the teaser for part 2 of greaser jeno. read part 1 here 

warnings for the teaser: smoking, mentions of crimes, he blows smoke into the reader’s face because that was ‘sexy’ in the 1950s, talks about putting his cigarette out on the reader’s skin, they fuck in front of a mirror in the scene after this one <3

note: ‘L&M’ is a cigarette brand, when it talks about Jeno’s L&M it’s talking about his cigarette he’s currently smoking

teaser word count: 2.6k

estimated word count for part 2: 10-12k

estimated release date for part 2: january 5th

once again, read part 1 here!

“So you just… stole your neighbor’s cat?” You raise an eyebrow, keeping eye contact as best you can while taking a bite out of the slightly stale granola bar in your hand. Even with crumbs at the corner of your mouth, your impressed expression shines through. 

“The fuckface was beatin’ the poor thing,” Jeno shrugs, though you think you see a hint of a smile. “What else was I gonna do? Leave her there? Anyways, she was an aged thing. Ol’ girl died a couple years later, but they were some good years. Wrench was well loved.”

“You named your cat Wrench?!” The exclamation is more excited than you mean for it to be. Jeno really does smile this time, finally taking a bite out of his own granola-bar-dinner before nodding. He reaches a hand up to run it through his hair, and you can’t help but let your gaze linger on his razor sharp jawline, or the beautiful slope of his nose. By the time he looks back at you, you’ve turned your head away. 

“What about you?” He eventually asks, and you’re relieved at the fact that he’s even trying to maintain the conversation. Jeno’s always seemed untouchable, so his softer, maybe even kinder side is more than a little new to you. You feel like you’ve dug deep, and whether it’s on purpose or by accident, you’ve found something. 

He’s looking intently at you. You haven’t answered yet. 

“What about me?” 

“Any pets? Cats, dogs, fish… humans.” He smirks slightly, and you’re struck by the change in the Jeno who’d driven you here to the Jeno in front of you. Brooding versus almost… bright. Maybe even brash, it seems. The famed Jeno Lee with his Chuck Taylors and pocket knife. You wonder if he’s even still dwelling on the circumstances that have led the two of you to this moment. Sharing granola bars on the living room floor of the cabin had allowed it to slip from your own mind at first. 

You still haven’t answered, looking like you’re mulling his question over. It feels like you’ve waited just a little too long to answer, somehow. Jeno’s smile slips a little, gaze darts over to the nearest window for a second. His left hand taps out a rhythmic beat on his left thigh, and you remember that he’s got every right to be nervous.

“Well, I -” You start, only to be immediately interrupted. 

“Do you mind if I - oh, shit, sorry,” Jeno starts off strong, falling into a murmur quickly once he realizes that he’s cut you off. You give him what you hope is an encouraging smile - a signal to go on - and he returns an almost imperceptible nod. “Do you mind if I smoke while we talk? I don’t know if -”

“I don’t.” You cut him off, though by the way he looks at you right after, he’s grateful for you doing so. He nods, casting his eyes away from yours, busying himself with pulling out his cigarettes - L&M, judging by the packaging - and lighter. When had he finished his granola bar? You hadn’t noticed, but the wrapped is empty, crumpled at his feet. 

“We used to have a dog,” You start, thinking back to when you’d been young, barely in middle school. “Kevin. Big golden retriever, loved chicken and chasing bigger dogs during walks. He died a couple years ago, but I really do miss him constantly.”

“He sounds like he was wonderful,” Jeno mumbles, unlit L&M between his slightly pursed lips. You watch a little too intently as he flicks his lighter open, allows the flames to dance against the end of his cigarette. He puts the lighter away once he’s done, shoving it far into his front pocket. You suppose he doesn’t mind the heat against his skin. Jeno inhales roughly, and when he pulls the cigarette from his mouth to exhale smoke by positioning it in between his index and middle fingers, you finally notice how much he’s shaking. You don’t comment on it. He continues. “I have to ask, though… Kevin?” 

“Kevin,” You nod sagely, looking back up at his face even though your eyes seem to want to stay trained on the cigarette. “Johnny named him, I was a little too young to do it. As for human ‘pets’... Lucas, was one. Yangyang too. I had a brief thing for Jungwoo, too, but we ended up being far too... similar on some things it seemed necessary for us to be polar opposites on.” 

Neither you nor Jungwoo had wanted to take charge in bed, but Jeno doesn’t need to know that. Judging from the small eyebrow raise he affords you, though, he already has an idea. He says nothing, as if he’s waiting for you to go on, but you don’t really have much else to tell him. You don’t even know how much he wants to know. 

“You?” You settle for asking, though you don’t quite know why. Jeno’s sexual history had been practically broadcasted at school - you don’t look like that without repercussions. You know more about him than you need to, but maybe not as much as you want to. 

“Everyone knows who I’ve fucked.” Jeno chuckles, taking another drag from his cigarette. You lick your lips unconsciously when your gaze falls to his lips as he blows smoke out, away from you. It seems like the cigarette is making him less nervous, less shaky. Less tuned in to the fact that he’s currently on the run. “Yangyang, too. Lacey, Adrija, Katie, Yeonjun, Evan, Riley, Emma, Jess. That’s the list, I think. I wouldn’t call them pets - well, not all of them, at least - but… yeah. That’s the list.” 

“Yangyang, Lacey…” You mull them over out loud, going silent as you process the list. “Emma.. J- wait, Jess?”

Jeno winces. Takes another drag. Nods. 

“When did you - Jess, like, Jess and Johnny, Jess?” You sputter out the words, eyes widening slightly. Jeno lets out a sigh, breathes in and out again, and, finally, nods once more. From the way he’s acting, you don’t even have to ask about the timeline of him and Jess. 

Jess, who’s like an older sister to you, cheating on Johnny, your big brother - your big brother who’s a criminal, apparently - with Jeno, who Johnny’s framing for robbery and maybe a dozen other things right now. It’s like a poorly written Shakespearean comedy.

Maybe it’s a tragedy. You don’t know yet. 

“She loves him very much, she- she truly does. I’ve never seen Jess so damn happy with anyone before, and we’ve been friends since we were in diapers ‘n all that. I swear.” Jeno puts his hand out for a second as if he’s trying to prove something, but he draws back when he finds that there’s nothing to prove. You furrow your brow and squint at him, scrutinizing him for a moment, before sighing and turning away. 

“Finding out that my brother’s being cheated on by the only girlfriend of his I’ve ever liked is probably the least insane thing that’s happened to me today,” You ultimately say, and you swear you hear Jeno let out a soft exhale of relief at this. Even if you aren’t his ideal company, you’re company nonetheless. “I’ll live with it.”

He can’t say anything else to this, so he nods, looking a little more peaked than he had before. You suppose his inadvertent confession of what him and Jess have been up to bothers him more than he’s letting on. It bothers you more than it lets you on. 

It really is the least of your worries, though. You can’t help but analyze everything inside your mind: is Jeno telling the truth? Although you don’t know each other too well, you’re inclined to believe him. What will you do if he’s lied about everything and you really have essentially been kidnapped? No, that seems unlikely. On top of that, if Jeno’s truthful - and he seems to be - then Johnny’s far worse that you’d thought. Sure, you have your issues with your brother, but he’s still your brother. The idea that he’s so terrible is horrifying to you. You share a house with that man. 

If he’s capable of robbing the diner you work - worked? - at, putting Jaemin in the hospital, and framing in Jeno, all within a night, what else is he capable of? Has he always been like this? You’d always thought the Doyoung and Taeyong mess he’d gotten himself into years back had been what had changed him for the worse. What if your perceptions are incorrect? What if he’s always been terrible? What if… What if he’d framed those two boys back then? What if they were innocent?

Johnny wouldn’t do that, right? 

Right?

As you mull everything you’ve ever known over in your mind, only just beginning to process the situation you’re in, the conversation dies out, put out like a cigarette. Neither of you had bothered to close the curtains on any of the windows, so moonlight streams in, darkening shadows and shedding light on the two of you. It traces around his exposed biceps, his proud chin, the veins underneath his skin. Jeno always looks just a little out of this realm, but the silvery light against his skin paired with the smoke that’s curling in the air beside him both serve to make him seem even more untouchable. The Jeno you’ve always seen, but never touched. 

It’s only when he drops what’s left of the cigarette to the ground and lifts his leg up to crush the butt under the heel of his boot that you realize you haven’t been staring into space, but rather at Jeno’s L&M. If he’s noticed, he says nothing, only pulling his lighter and the packet out to light up yet another cigarette. The fact that he doesn’t ask this time is not ignored by you. 

Once he’s done lighting it and has taken a good drag from it, Jeno finally puts his lighter away again and looks up at you. His smile this time is apologetic, but you aren’t sure why. 

“You’ve been lookin’ at it all night,” He says, voice softer than you could’ve imagined coming from him. He gestures lightly with the cigarette before putting it back against his - admittedly plush looking - lips. “Wanna try?”

“I…” You blink a couple times, not sure why you’re so blindsided by the question. Maybe it’s the drop in his voice, the raspiness that comes with his lowered volume. Jeno’s one of the more respectful men - then boys - from your high school, but he still lives up to the reputation he’s got. A guy like Jeno Lee doesn’t ask you to try a cigarette with him for no reason. 

To be fair, who else is he gonna ask right now?

When you don’t answer outright, Jeno smiles slightly. He isn’t shaking anymore, you notice, but you think you might be. Funny how the night changes. The man in front of you takes another drag, leans in ever-so-slightly, and blows his smoke gently towards you. It’s practiced, precise: he doesn’t go directly for your nose, or your mouth. The smoke and the air tickle the side of your face, and the sensation almost makes you forget how close Jeno suddenly is to you. 

He knows he has the upper hand, likely because he’s just created said upper hand. You can’t say you don’t like it. You don’t lean away.

“Classy, Jeno Lee,” You muster up the ability to speak. His lips are still by your cheek. His breath is warm against your skin, but it doesn’t disgust you in the way you feel like it should. “You could be going to prison soon and you’re still trying to get your dick wet.”

It’s a harsh thing to say, but you know that you could say anything in the moment and he wouldn’t take it to heart. The push and pull you’ve been wanting since high school is there. Jeno leans back, takes another drag and blows up rather than at you again, seemingly marvelling at the way the tendrils of smoke dance and then disappear, dispersing around the two of you. The newfound tension should feel sudden, but you think that it might’ve been coming since he’d discovered you in the Bel Air’s backseat. 

Now that you’ve hidden him away at the cabin, anything could happen. Tomorrow, Jeno could drop you off at some gas station or bus stop and drive away forever, running away from a past that is chasing him at double the speed. Tomorrow, you could turn him in for the car theft. You’re sure that’s what he’s thinking, anyways. Jeno shifts so his empty hand is in front of him, so he can put his weight on it to get right back up close and personal to you. 

“I always did like when you wore these skirts to school,” He ignores your statement entirely, dark eyes flitting down to your bare legs. “Never said anything ‘bout it because I’m nothin’ if not respectful. That, and your brother would’ve killed me if I’d tried to get at you.”

“My brother’s not around right now.” You say, and the lilt of your voice makes it seem like you’re posing a challenge. Maybe you are. To be entirely fair, you aren’t thinking too straight, but you blame that on the fact that you’re aiding and abetting a fugitive who happens to, at least at the moment, seem almost like sex on legs. Jeno’d looked so scared and afraid earlier at the gas station. When had that changed? 

The Jeno across from you is cocksure, hands steady even when they hadn’t been minutes ago. Perhaps the gravity of his situation has finally hit. He’s either not thinking at all, or he’s thinking the clearest he has all night. 

“No,” Jeno agrees, finally, finally placing a hand on your bare thigh, right above your knee and right at where your skirt has ridden up. “No, he isn’t. It’s just us tonight, princess, isn’t it?” 

“You’ve done a whole 360,” You respond, not shying away from his touch. His hand is so warm against your skin. You want Jeno to engulf you. “Why’s that?” 

“Could be going to prison soon,” He shrugs, and his eyes darken with something unreadable. Something almost… sad. Jeno ignores himself, explaining further, voice teasing. “Might as well get my dick wet.”

It hits you then, his real reasoning. Before thinking, you place your hand on top of his, gentle, as kind as you can muster. 

“You want to use me to forget?” You ask, your touch imploring that his eyes seek yours out. They do, and when you look into them, you know that you’re right. He’s left his entire life behind because of your brother. Of course he needs some use from you. Jeno stares at you staring at him for one, two beats before looking away. He doesn’t respond, but you don’t need him to. 

“How do you feel about me putting my cigarette out on you? Ash against your pretty skin?” He asks, voice sultry but guarded. You wonder if this is how he seduced everyone on his list. You only have tonight. Neither of you know what tomorrow could bring. You move your hand off of his, only to slowly pull your skirt higher along your thigh. Jeno’s eyes follow the new path of exposed skin, hungry for something you could never comprehend.

“Pick anywhere,” Your words are barely above a whisper now. “After all, you’re in charge.”

let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

#first #five #tags #dont always #work #jeno smut #jeno angst #jeno fluff #nct dream smut #nct dream angst #nct dream fluff #jeno

[danddymaro]

Abbacchio Finding Out About A Secret Child With The Reader.

Reader insert // Your name // (Y/n)

Daughter’s name // (D/n)

Thoughts are italics in quotations = ‘Example’

Flashbacks are in italics = Example

Word Count :  3031

Abbacchio Finding Out About A Secret Child With The Reader.

Abbacchio stared down at the picture in his grip, and as he did, his hand trembled the entire time he tried to properly hold it, wanting to avoid having it fall out of his shaken grasp.

“She just turned three,” he read, trailing his eyes over the words. 

He instantly recognized the familiar writing scribbled on the white back of the image as he’d turned it over during his inspection of it, and it only made him feel more uneasy as he read the message out loud,

"Three…" Leone breathed softly.

He felt his heart tighten, and lifelessly, he let the photograph fall onto the desk, joining more which lay scattered across the surface.

“Three years,” he said to himself, his hands both slowly rising, pressing over his face as he sought to think rationally, attempting to pull himself together before he said something stupid, or much worse, picked a fight that quite possibly wasn’t even there to take part of,

“It just...No...There has to be...be a reason...an explanation,” He maundered incoherently.

He tried hard to keep himself together, but it was hard to when every bit of him shook with recollection of the memories that came forth, from the lovely ones that he kept locked in his chest, to the miserable ones that followed after his joy slipped through his fingers. 

‘I miss those days,’ He thought to himself, remembering her and the little things that had made his life feel worthwhile.  

 Her (h/c) hair felt soft as it slipped through his fingers, the little knotted bits eased loose by his gentle tugs, 

“I wish my hair was like yours,” (f/n) mused, a small smile over her as she did the same with his own much longer strands of periwinkle, “It’s beautiful,” she breathed, her eyes on it as she watched it slip between her fingers, every strand that flowed over her hand being soft and feathery,

‘If we ever have a child,’ she silently mused, her (e/c) colored eyes rising to gaze up at him, ‘I’d want them to look just like you,’ She thought with certainty, having always perceived the man to be beautiful, far surpassing her in every sense.

‘Especially your eyes.' She added as she found herself locked with them, ‘ Of all things, I’d love for them to have your eyes rather than mine,’ She thought with certainty, having thought about it so many times before, because all in all, there wasn't anyone else she'd love to settle down with.

But it wasn't like she could openly tell him she had been ready to settle down and have a family, not when he didn't seem so ambient about being in an actual relationship to begin with. 

Granted, they'd had their sweet moments, but she was well aware that truly, they meant nothing  but one thing ; 

He didn't want to be lonely,

not truly alone at least.

 Meanwhile, during her inner musing, he let a placid smile overtake him, hidden, yet present as he played with her hair, not having had a mind to do anything else but lay with her and enjoy the end of the day together. 

‘I guess we could have gone out somewhere,’ He thought with a little blue sigh, somewhat regretting not doing anything else but stay in, ‘But sometimes, I just don’t want to do anything but lay here with her,’ He mused, stopping his caresses altogether to enjoy her touch instead. 

 It was hard not to see part of himself in the image of the little girl, not when she looked like the spitting image of him,

"There is no mistaking it," he said lowly, knowing deep within his chest the truth. 

There was another image set before him, placed on the same desk the first one had been and had just fallen back down on. 

Swallowing down hard, he picked it up, seeing that within that specific photograph, the child was much younger, practically an infant, being incredibly small and wrapped by a soft, pink blanket,

 ' - She has his eyes, his hair, his smile, his everything.’ the back of it read, all written with the same hand from the first picture he saw.

“Abbacchio what was it you nee-” Bruno started, stopping as he entered his office, seeing his friend stilled as he read the written words on the printed image with hardened, darkened orbs.

“- Bucciarati,” Abbacchio started, his voice dropped down by a pitch as he turned to look back at his boss,

“What are these?” He asked, the hand holding both photographs shaken as he tightly gripped them, waving them before the dark-haired male, “Why do you have these?” Leone added, his eyes glazed, yet stern, “I want the truth!” he demanded, stepping forward, 

"And don't give me any bullshit lies." He added with venom laced within his words as little pinpricks stabbed and stung his eyes, the man somehow holding it all in, letting not a single tear slip out of his eyes.

It was then that Bruno sighed softly, “Yes...of course,” he said with a silent nod, turning to close his door for privacy, being careful in doing so, 

“ I’m sure you want to know,” He added, staying turned away to hide the pained expression fixed upon his own features, because he knew he’d inadvertently hurt his friend by obscuring the truth.

“....Just know that it hadn’t been my intention to harm you, nor for you to find out this way,” Bucciarati spoke earnestly, finally finding it in himself to gaze back at his friend and face the betrayal set over his features,

“Then why didn’t you tell me?” Leone asked angrily, his tone rough as he addressed the other male, “ Why the hell did you never tell me I had a damn kid, huh?” The long-haired male urged on, “Why hadn’t it crossed your mind to tell me you knew where she was too,” he added as he referred to the woman who appeared in every photograph as well.

  "Well?" He said anxiously, wanting to know, waiting for an answer.

 “...By then we had already betrayed the organization and made it to Sardina,” Bruno started, his royal blue’s eyes looking forlorn as he mentioned the past,

 “ A kid?” Abbacchio asked frustrated, holding his abdomen in pain because while he had been healed, he still had to endure the aftermath of the wretched assault,

“You’re asking me about a damn brat right now?” He asked (f/n) while sounding thoroughly annoyed, glaring at her hazardously, most of it being a front to try and mask the pain he felt.

He'd just barely survived getting cut through and she was asking about kids…

‘Of all things,’ He thought bitterly.

“I don't mean now,” she started, sounding rather small, “ but perhaps in the future...Maybe... later…” She drifted off, biting her lip anxiously as she finally forced out the last word.

“Have you ever just sat there and thought about it?” She asked him, swallowing hard, “ Has it ever come to mind?” she added.

‘Have you ever thought about it...with me,’ She wondered, wanting to ask him specifically, but afraid of the answer and what pain it would bring, because she was certain it would hurt.

“Yeah,” Leone huffed, “ Yeah, I've thought about it...About how much I don't want one.” He muttered before hanging his head, “And it should be the last thing on your mind right now too,” He added, abruptly standing, wincing as he did so,

“Right now, we’ve got to find the Boss,” he reminded her, walking away from her and the conversation altogether, brushing right past Bruno without even a word of address.

With a frown, Bucciarati approached the woman, sitting beside her on the couch, joining the notably downhearted woman with the expression slowly melting down into soft, open kindness,

“Are you alright?” he asked her, concerned over the little tears that had escaped her, and that were then slowly falling down her face.

“Not really,” she admitted to him, offering him a small, broken smile.

“He’s frustrated right now,” Bruno stated, “...He just narrowly escaped death not a few moments ago,” he reminded her, desperately trying to justify Abbacchio’s behavior while simultaneously attempting to comfort the young woman altogether.

“I’m sure that during another time he’d be much more amenable and open to the conversation,” he said with a growing smile, assuring her as he reached out for her hand, warmly holding it.

“I know,” she responded, “I know he’s still hurt,” she added.

“ And you know... I was actually worried sick,” she admitted, “ I thought… I thought that he wasn’t going to make it,” She added with a harsh shutter, having felt her world begin to crumble as she caught sight of his bloodied body back at the beach,

‘And I thought I wouldn’t get a chance to tell him,’ She thought to herself, absentmindedly placing a hand at her stomach, something that wasn’t overlooked by the blue-eyed male,

“(f/n)...” Bruno started, deflating at the small movement, slowly coming to a realization. 

For just a moment he looked around, making certain no one else heard before he spoke, “ Are you pregnant?” he asked her, scooting closer. 

- It had only been a small hunch, one that could have simply been squashed had it not been for the grim expression that overtook her at the mention.

Nodding somberly, she confirmed it, “ Yes, but I don’t know how far along.” She admitted, “I only just found out today."  She added, not having known till after she boarded the boat and already made the decision to accompany them.

“ And now... I don’t know what to do,” she said while looking to him for guidance, “ I've wanted to tell him, but whenever I try, he shuts me down.” She informed Bucciarati. 

“ Whenever I try to talk to him about a future together, he simply brushes me away,” she went on, having gone through the same dilemma even before then.

“He doesn't want children,” she said sadly, “ He expresses it with distrain each and every time it's brought up,” she informed him.

“And what's worse is that, perhaps, I’ve read us all wrong.

I’ve been together with the man for months now and not once has he mentioned the possibility of a life together.

During all this time...he’s also never told me he loves me.

He’s also never been one to publicly hold my hand.

...He’s never introduced me as anything but his partner; someone who works alongside him,” She explained, "Almost as though we aren't really anything." she added with a small, bitter chuckle. 

“Maybe, all this time that’s all we’ve been, and he just doesn’t have the heart to tell me where we really stand...” She added with a small, wavering voice, continuing on before he could try and convince her otherwise, 

"Bucciarati, I promised to help. I did so with not only the intention of following Abbacchio, but also to aid you and save Trish,

But in the state I am now…

Right now…

I’m only a burden.” she said with dejection, uncertain on how long the conflict will last.

“And as much as it hurts me to say this, we have to part ways,” She told him, apologetically gazing at him, “Because even if Leone has no intention to love this child, I do.

I have to keep them from harm's way.” She determinedly spoke, rising to stand, staring down at the dark-haired man with sorrow, “ I have to go. So, before the morning comes I’ll be gone,” She added, knowing it was best.

“And absolutely nothing will stop me,” She said with tightened fists.

“- As both my trusted friend, and my capo, I feel that at the very least I owe it to you to tell you upfront.” She informed him.

“I see,” Bruno said nodding, also standing up, “ Then take everything you need,” he told her, “ whatever you need to hide and stay away, take it. I will not spare a single resource of mine to assure your safety,” He vowed, offering her a lax, comforting smile.

“...Thank you,” she said softly, bowing her head to him to hide her tears. 

She then leaned forward, her arms tightly wrapped around him, “Thank you for taking me in...As well as allowing me a way out.” she told him, truly grateful because, without him, she never would have stood a chance.

“- We will find a way back to each other,” He assured her. “ Once this is all over, I will make sure to let you know,” He said while beginning to part from her.

Nodding, she too pulled back, “Thank you, again.  For everything,” She said once more, it being the last words she exchanged with him before she disappeared into the night, leaving the rest of their group baffled at her sudden departure, save for one member, because all but Bruno remained unknowing.

And rather than answer questions, he chose to play the fool. Instead, urging them to continue their hunt, forcing them to move forward without another member.

 “And after that, as you know, our organization was left in shambles,” Bruno explained, “With A new boss there came new rules, as well as A new reform that many others didn’t agree with.

Only until recently have we been able to stabilize, but even then…

Even then it’s been a long, heavy struggle,” Bruno said with knitted brows, frustration showing.

“It wasn’t my intention to keep this from you for so long, but I couldn’t afford you searching for her, ultimately risking her location, and much worse, their lives,” Bruno explained, still feeling guilty nonetheless, regardless of his intentions being good or not.

“Right now, she’s doing well.

They both are actually, so there is no need to worry yourself. We’ve already agreed that in a month or two, they will make their way here, and then you can decide what you want to do." He said with a reassuring nod as he rounded his desk, walking over to his seat,  

" If you want to be a part of their lives, or if you’d choose to sever your ties with them completely;  It’s all up to you.” He went on, sitting down, his elbows placed on the surface of the desk as he lay his chin on his overlapped fingers,

“I just hope you understand that regardless of your decision, she is still a member of our familia. Whether or not you decide to take responsibility or be a part of their futures is your own choice. 

All in all, it doesn't change my own final say:

Her home is here. 

And I am her family, just as I am yours. ” Bruno said firmly, his voice low yet sharp.

“...Of course,” Abbacchio said back, his throat suddenly dry as he had a sudden question in mind, wanting to ask with unsettling desperation, 

“Bucciarati…Did she really say that?" Leone said softly, regret settled over his features, " Did she really think I... That we weren't together?" He asked Bruno. 

"From what I understood, that was her take on your relationship." He answered back, shaking his head, "Why? Was it otherwise?" He added as he tilted his head slightly, intrigued, because Abbacchio never shared anything that had to do with his relationship with her, making it all a mystery even to his closest confidante.

"Of course," Abbacchio said sadly, " And of course it hurt when she left... When she simply walked away. 

But then again,  how could she not?" He asked looking up at the ceiling, understanding how she could assume such a thing, having had too much time to maul over the mistakes he made with her, 

" I was a complete bastard to her; An insensitive jerk.  

Whenever she needed assurance I turned my back, all because I felt I didn't deserve her. I felt like she was asking for too much from someone that had too little to offer." Leone explained, shaking his head, 

"And when she did leave... When she did what I assumed was best, I broke down," He went on, remembering just how he'd pretty much gone back to square one, falling back into his miserable pit of depression he’d barely scraped past the first time. 

 "But now…

Two months…

Two months in comparison to never is nothing," He said with a little itching grin, his eyes tired and sad, yet having a soft glow of joy to match the little twitching smile.

For just a moment he gazed down at his daughter, realizing that she didn't look just like him. There was plenty she took from her mother, being the perfect harmony between the two, something he’d only then realized he wanted,

‘A kid of my own... with (f/n) nonetheless...

With the woman I  still love,’

 Absentmindedly, his fingers went down to fall upon the image, caressing the sight of them softly, lovingly, as well as longingly, 

' Until then, I have to make sure that I'm everything you two need.' He silently swore, promising to not repeat any mistakes, hoping that somehow (f/n) still loved him just as much as he did her.

“From her letters, she still thinks about you plenty.” Bruno nonchalantly informed him, growing surprised to see the level of enthusiasm that lifted the other man’s features to life, 

“She does?” Leone said with hopefulness, 

“ Certainly,” Bruno replied back, neatly gathering the pictures together, as well as pulling a small stack of letters within carefully opened envelopes to stack them all together, 

“You should see so yourself,” He advised, handing him the collection, “Any fool could see that through it all, she still harbors the same feelings for you, holding no true resentment.

And speaking on a  personal note; 

 If I were you, I wouldn’t ever throw away the opportunity to have something so precious within my grasp.” The don spoke with a little, longing look to his eye that made Abbacchio nod back knowingly. 

“Don’t worry,” the long-haired male said back, “I won’t let it slip past me, not again,” he added with the utmost confidence, willing to do everything it took to give his girls the world.

Following parts : 

The Reader Reunites With Leone

Leone Plays Teaparty with his little girl

(D/n) Meets Giorno

#leone abbacchio #leone abbacchio x reader #leone abbacchio x reader insert #leone abbacchio one shot #abbacchio imagine #abbacchio x reader #leone abbacchio imagine #JoJo's Bizarre Adventure #Vento Aureo #vento aurero x reader #vento auero reader insert #jojo kimyou bouken vento aurero #vento auero abbacchio #Jojo Part 5 #jojo part five #Jojo no Kimyou na Bouken #JoJo no Kimyō na Bōken #JJBA #jjba fanfic #jjba fanfiction reader insert #jjba imagine #jjba part 5 #jjba part 5 fanfic #jjba part 5 fanfiction #leone abbacchio as a father #abbacchio x y/n #leone abbacchio x y/n #jjba x reader insert

[imagineclaireandjamie]

Heloo !! I hope all of you are doing well. I was wondering if there was another chapter planned for The High Road and the Low Road? I find the premise very intriguing and I can’t wait to see what happens next !!!!

After learning the truth from Claire, a furious Brianna runs to Craig na Dun to prove her mother’s crazy only to fall through the stones herself.

Part One, Part Two

The High Road and the Low Road - Part Three

“1968,” Roger repeated, almost in a trance after what Claire had told him. “Then… there’s a chance she hasna gone back yet.”

“A chance,” Claire agreed. “Though I couldn’t tell you the first thing about how we could even begin to find her… save camping out at the stones and watching for her.”

“And ye think it’s an ability that passes down from mother to child?”

Claire shrugged. “Or father. My own parents died when I was so young – when they were still very young – I doubt they ever even knew they had the ability, wherever one of them it came from.”

Fiona never took her eyes from the familiar road as she added, “Grannie and the others talk of it running in families – the fairies’ interest, that is. The tales say the fairies are like to take the daughters of women they stole before, mistaking the daughter for the mother.”

“Sounds like a way to explain something bein’ hereditary,” Roger conceded. “But all the tales I’ve heard speak of women taken. D’ye believe a man can pass through?”

“Geillis was only the first traveler I met,” Claire confessed, launching into an abbreviated account of her time in Paris and Master Raymond. 

“But the question of whether you can is easily solved – you touch the stones and something either happens or it doesn’t,” Claire said, looking at Roger, watching him and the grip he had on the small pack of clothes and supplies he’d hastily grabbed on their way out the door. “The more important questions is will you try.”

“I wouldna feel right watchin’ ye go on yer own,” he said too quickly. “And I feel Brianna going is partly my fault. My contributions to the conversation hardly calmed her.” He looked out the window, avoiding Claire’s knowing gaze. 

“Whatever your reason, I thank you for being willing to come and help me. I don’t know what might go wrong, but if anything should happen to me, it’s a comfort to know Brianna will have you there too.”

Roger continued looking away but nodded. He didn’t want to think of having to tell Brianna that something had happened to her mother (and that he hadn’t been enough to stop it). 

“We’re here,” Fiona announced, turning onto the road that inclined gently upward to the hill and the standing stones crowning it. 

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

“Have you run away from home before?” Brianna asked quietly as she held tight to the edge of the cart, praying they wouldn’t hit a bump strong enough to send her falling to the dusty road below. Ian looked far too comfortable where he was perched on a wooden crate next to one of the back wheels. He swayed but Brianna quickly noted that his movements worked with the swaying of the cart, adjusting and correcting for every tilt and jerk.

“I dinna see it as running away,” he explained. “Put that way it sounds like I dinna mean ever to return. It’s more… a brief change of scene. And I do try always to make myself useful,” he added. “This visit I’m fetching my da what he needs for farmin’ the fields and to help my uncle wi’ his business. He usually has plenty of work and no enough help for it. One of these days, I’m goin’ to ask him can I stay wi’ him for good.”

They had walked for a few hours before a man with a cart came up along the road behind them. Ian ran alongside and launched into Gaidhlig so Brianna had no clue what he’d said to convince the man to let them ride along, but within a few minutes the cart slowed enough for Ian to help Brianna up into the back. They didn’t dare take out Ian’s food stores with the cart jostling along (and a third party who might request a portion as payment for the ride). Instead, they chatted to cover the noise of their grumbling stomachs and Brianna glanced around at a landscape more lush and beautiful than she felt she’d ever be able to appreciate fully in her own time. 

“And what about you?” Ian asked, drawing Brianna’s attention back. “What were ye doing that ye became so lost?”

“I had an argument with my mother and took a walk to cool off. I just went further than I realized or meant to,” Brianna admitted, fighting the nervous impulse to laugh. She couldn’t have traveled much further if she’d tried. 

“So… ye ran away?” Ian teased. 

Brianna rolled her eyes at him, flushing as she heard him laughing at her. 

“What was it ye and yer mam argued over? Was it to do wi’ yer da? Ye said she told ye it wansa the man ye thought. Did she tell ye much about the man who is yer father?” 

“Yes, we fought about that. She lied to me my entire life – and about who I am. You’d be mad too if you found out yer father was someone you had never met.”

“Oh aye,” Ian agreed. “I’m named for my da. Dinna ken what I’d make of it were he no my father by blood… But I dinna ken it would change too much. He’s a good man, my da – better’n I ever manage. I dinna ken how to be like him so I dinna think it’s worth killin’ myself tryin’. Uncle – that is, I dinna feel my uncle is as disappointed in me when I do things wrong. Ken… there have been times when I wished my uncle was my father.”

Brianna said nothing. She had never wished for a different father – not that she could recall, anyway. There had been a few times she’d wished her mother were different – not that another woman was her mother, but that Claire had behaved more like other mothers, that sort of thing. But what if Frank had wished she were different? What if he had wished for a daughter more like him, a daughter who was actually his and not a reminder of the man his wife had left him for – a reminder that he was the consolation, that he was what was left when the love of his wife’s life was gone…

“Did she tell ye about him?” Ian pressed. 

“Only a little and I wasn’t to inclined to pay attention. She said I look like him – my hair, my eyes, my height… She said he was smart and kind, that he spoke several languages and was a strong leader to the men who fought with him,” Brianna listed. She was amazed she remembered so much of what Claire had told her. She was ashamed it wasn’t more. 

“Sounds a good man,” Ian told her. “Are ye sorry ye cannae meet him?”

Brianna shrugged. “You can’t miss what you’ve never had. I had a dad and he was pretty great. I’d want to have him back more than someone I never met… I think,” Brianna hedged. “I don’t know. Maybe part of me is curious, but what’s the point of wishing for it when it’s never going to happen?”

“I suppose that makes sense. Ye cannae be disappointed if ye never meet him, either,” Ian replied, a somber note in his voice. “But he might also be better’n ye could know if ye dinnae meet him and see for yerself.” 

“Which, again, doesn’t really matter as it’s never going to happen.”

“Right,” Ian agreed quickly, looking away to where a small flock of birds startled upward from the moor – perhaps disturbed by the sound of their cart passing.

Brianna and Ian allowed the silence between them to stretch comfortably as the miles slowly accumulated behind them. 

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

Roger came to first, but it took him a while to sort out where he was and what had happened. 

He was on the ground in the stone circle and everything seemed to pulse around him, a distracting buzzing fading in and out, ringing in his ears. When he turned his head, he saw Claire crumpled and unmoving a few feet away.

Cursing under his breath, Roger tried to roll in her direction but he found his body resistant to the idea, crying out in pain and frustration instead.

The noise succeeded in rousing Claire, however. With a loud gasp, she jolted upright, looking around until her eyes found Roger… and no sign of Fiona.

“Looks like we made it,” she declared, groaning as she struggled to her feet. “Though a little worse for the wear.”

“It was worse than ye said,” he grumbled, crawling to his pack which had ended up a few feet away.

“It gets worse each time,” Claire said. “I don’t… I don’t know if I’ll be able to get through again.” Panic hovered at the edges of her voice as she glanced to Roger. He could see her pushing it to the side as she moved to the edge of the circle and gazed down the hill toward the road. 

“She has a significant head start on us, whichever direction she’s gone,” Claire started. 

“Do ye think we ought to split up?” Roger asked. “If we go down the road in opposite directions, we can ask after her of anyone we meet. Then, if we know we’re on the right path, we keep after her and if we find she’s no been seen, we can turn back. We wait here till the other returns wi’ her and we all go back together.”

“That assumes she sticks to the road,” Claire countered.

“Have ye any reason to think she’d stray from it?”

“You mean besides the fact she took off here on her own in a huff and fell through inadvertently? It was dark when she came through. There’s a very good chance she missed the road altogether,” Claire theorized, yielding to her worst fears as she ran her gaze up and down the road, searching for impossible signs of Brianna.

“Do ye have another suggestion then?” Roger asked, the lingering headache from the journey and his own fears for Brianna adding to his frustration and erasing any care he might take for Claire’s position. “Hemmin’ and hawin’ willna accomplish anything but wastin’ time.”

“Well it looks like it’s delayed us enough to bring a small bit of good fortune our way,” she exclaimed, taking care as she started down the hill toward the road. “There’s a rider headed this way. You need to call out to him and ask if he’s seen a young woman hereabouts.”

“And why must it be me?” Roger queried, still frustrated and ornery as he followed her path of descent.

“I’m a sassenach in the Highlands,” she reminded him. “And a woman,” she added with annoyance.

“Right,” Roger sighed before beginning to wave his arms and call out to the man approaching on horseback.

The man slowed as he drew closer but he did not appear inclined to stop.

“My apologies, friends, but I’m on an errand that–”

He stopped the horse abruptly, color draining from his face.

Claire reached out and gripped Roger’s arm tightly, causing him to wince.

“Claire?” the man on the horse asked with breathless disbelief.

She responded in kind, “Ian?”

#Anonymous #;mod lenny #the high road and the low road au #alternate universe #canon divergence au

[starstruckpurpledragon]

So I watched WW84 last night and was very... underwhelmed.

Spoilers below the cut

So, in theory, the movie had an interesting plot and a decent message.  The whole thing revolved around the idea that things gained through lies and cheats are never as satisfying as things gained through honesty and hard work.  That’s the message Hippolyta tries to teach tiny Diana in the flashback at the start of the movie and it’s the message Diana uses the lasso of truth to convey to the world at the climax of the movie.

Unfortunately, the movie itself is riddled with problems.  The most noticeable being the gratuitous racism, which is part of the movie’s ham-handed attempt to tie into the Cold War.  The second most noticeable problem with the movie is that it’s boring.

Yup, it’s boring.  The pacing is terrible and if I hadn’t been watching with someone else I’d have stopped the movie about halfway through because the writing failed to draw me in and get me invested in the characters or in the plot or in... anything at all.

Diana is introduced into the movie proper, after the flashback prologue, flipping around on her lasso, throwing her tiara around (which I do love), and sliding around on her ridiculously heeled shoes like friction doesn’t exist on command.  It’s a shift in her fighting abilities - making her abilities not just superhuman but uncanny-valley unreal - that I had hoped wasn’t as big of a problem as the trailers made it look.  Unfortunately, it’s actually worse in the movie.  All the fight scenes are kind of unwatchable as a result, though none so much as that first fight scene in the mall.

After the mall fight, the illegal black market items the thieves tried to steal wind up at Diana’s workplace, one of which is to be identified by her new coworker Barbara Minerva, who’s sweet and nervous and seems to have a massive crush on Diana.  Diana is standoffish at first but is taken in by Barbara’s kindness and they end up having dinner together.

The whole thing reads as a really cute date - honestly, I’d have loved for her to be Diana’s new love interest, but of course the hero can’t be allowed to stop pining for Chris Pine.  It’s in his name, after all.

Anyway, the item Barbara is supposed to identify turns out to be a wishing stone of the jerkass genie variety.  It gets compared to the Monkey’s Paw at one point.  It grants a joking request for a cup of coffee for an unknown price, grants Diana’s unspoken wish to have Steve back for the price of her powers, and grants Barbara her desire to be more like Diana - powers and strength - in exchange for the kindness that made her so likable. 

And then comes Maxwell Lord who figures out how to loophole abuse the wish-granting system.  He wishes to become the avatar of the stone and it melts right into him, giving him both the ability to grant wishes and to decide what to take in trade.  And if other people make wishes for his sake, then they’ll also be the ones paying the price for his sake.

Meanwhile, Diana is trying to find the stone again.  She’s got Steve back and at least manages to realize that anything powerful enough to be granting these kind of wishes is going to have a major downside.  But neither she nor Steve are self aware enough to realize that there’s now a non-consenting third party in their relationship, otherwise known as that poor man Steve is possessing.  They go to the man’s apartment, look through his clothes, sleep in his bed, and yet can’t even recognize that Steve’s come back to life at this other man’s expense.  Either he’s riding parasite in someone else’s body, suppressing that guy’s consciousness entirely.  Or Steve swapped places, meaning the stone killed a guy to bring Steve back.  Either way, they’re using someone else’s body without permission and Diana’s only concern is making sure she gets to keep Steve this time.  Even he’s not too concerned with the person whose body he’s riding around in - it’s the potential nuclear war that makes him push Diana to reject her wish and let him return to being dead.

This whole thing is portrayed as romantic instead of morally and ethically gross.  Like... these are our heroes?  Seriously?  Are you sure???

The entire part of the movie that took place in Egypt could have been cut and the movie would have been significantly less racist and the plot would have made significantly more sense.  And we could have skipped the nonsensical theft of a jet that Steve shouldn’t be able to fly - which I take as foreshadowing he’s not the real Steve, but a lie based on Diana’s memory of Steve, but is somehow really just an excuse to have the invisible jet show up and have Steve inadvertently tell Diana all she needs to know to unlock the ability to fly later on in the movie.

O_o

Back to our villains.  Barbara’s powers are going to her head.  The stronger she grows, the more her personality is warped.  She fixates on her desire never to be hurt again, but in doing so begins lashing out at others eventually harming those she’d previously been kind to, including her homeless friend and Diana herself.  She views Diana’s attempts to rekindle her compassion and rationality as condescension and insults, leading to Barbara eventually rejecting her humanity entirely by giving up her initial wish in favor of becoming something new, a never before seen apex predator stronger and more capable than Diana.  This leads to her transformation into Cheetah.  (Not that Cheetahs are actually apex predators, but... artistic license?  Whatever.)

Ultimately, though, Barbara isn’t really the most interesting villain of the movie.  She’s kind of a tired trope.  Mousey white woman who’d be gorgeous if she took the time to follow society’s beauty standards envies the seemingly effortlessly beautiful and ambiguously foreign Diana Prince, turns into a bitch when granted the power and beauty she craved, and is eventually defeated because there’d never be enough strength and power in the world to satisfy her - because the safety it represented for her was never real and it could never make her happy because of that fact.  She’d always want more.  

Maxwell Lord, however, is a very interesting villain.  We get some of his backstory at one point.  He grew up ostracized and alone due to abusive parents and peers who bullied him for being Hispanic.  As an adult he tries to erase everything that marks him as not-white, giving into the peer pressure racism exudes on him to blend in.  But his attempt to create the American Dream for himself and his son is falling apart (and heavily implied to be a con job these days) and he’s so focused on being what he thinks his son needs that he doesn’t realize that everything he’s doing is taking him further and further away from the one person who matters to him the most.

It’s rather understandable that he doesn’t care about the negative effects the wishes have on other people because other people have always treated him badly.  And he doesn’t care about the negative effects granting wishes has on him personally, because he always believes with a little more time he can fix everything.  It’s the realization that his son is out there alone and in danger of being killed that makes him reject his powers and his wish - and probably doing a lot more to reverse all the subsequent wishes than anything else - because the one thing at the core of who he is was his love for his son.  His desire for his son to have a better life than he has and to be a better person than he has been.

Honestly, Maxwell Lord might be the only likable character in the movie.  Admittedly, he’s played by Pedro Pascal who is super adorable and I may be biased as a result.

Anyway, there are the bones of a good movie in there.  It’s unfortunate that the whole thing suffered from bad everything else. 

#wonder woman 1984 #to sum up the movie was racist and boring and I don't recommend #Pedro Pascal is adorable though so at least there is that #let women fight in comfortable shoes already #hated every pair of shoes in the movie with the burning passion of a thousand suns

[pridebooks]

It’s Trans Day of Visibility, so have some books!!

Full list of books (with synopses) under the cut.

First picture: Books by trans authors (most also have trans characters)

Memoirs of a Man’s Maiden Years by N. O. Body - "I was born a boy, raised as a girl. . . . One may raise a healthy boy in as womanish a manner as one wishes, and a female creature in as mannish; never will this cause their senses to remain forever reversed." So writes the pseudonymous N. O. Body, born in 1884 with ambiguous genitalia and assigned a female identity in early infancy. Brought up as a girl, "she" nevertheless asserted stereotypical male behavior from early on. In the end, it was a passionate love affair with a married woman that brought matters to a head. Desperately confused, suicidally depressed, and in consultation with Magnus Hirschfeld, one of the most eminent and controversial sexologists of the day, "she" decided to become "he." N. O. Body was identified as Karl M. Baer (he/him).

Spy Stuff by Matthew J. Metzger - Anton never thought anyone would ever want to date him. Everyone knows nobody wants a transgender boyfriend, right? So he's as shocked as anyone when seemingly-straight Jude Kalinowski asks him out, and doesn't appear to be joking.The only problem is ... well, Jude doesn't actually know.Anton can see how this will play out: Jude is a nice guy, and nice guys finish last. And Anton is transgender, and transgender people don't get happy endings. If he tells Jude, it might destroy everything.And if Jude tells anyone else ... it will. Matthew J. Metzger (he/him) is a queer trans man.

I Wish You All The Best by Mason Deaver - When Ben De Backer comes out to their parents as nonbinary, they're thrown out of their house and forced to move in with their estranged older sister, Hannah, and her husband, Thomas, whom Ben has never even met. Struggling with an anxiety disorder compounded by their parents' rejection, they come out only to Hannah, Thomas, and their therapist and try to keep a low profile in a new school.But Ben's attempts to survive the last half of senior year unnoticed are thwarted when Nathan Allan, a funny and charismatic student, decides to take Ben under his wing. As Ben and Nathan's friendship grows, their feelings for each other begin to change, and what started as a disastrous turn of events looks like it might just be a chance to start a happier new life.At turns heartbreaking and joyous, I Wish You All the Best is both a celebration of life, friendship, and love, and a shining example of hope in the face of adversity Mason Deaver (they/them) is nonbinary.

George by Alex Gino -When people look at George, they think they see a boy. But she knows she's not a boy. She knows she's a girl.George thinks she'll have to keep this a secret forever. Then her teacher announces that their class play is going to be Charlotte's Web. George really, really, REALLY wants to play Charlotte. But the teacher says she can't even try out for the part . . . because she's a boy.With the help of her best friend, Kelly, George comes up with a plan. Not just so she can be Charlotte -- but so everyone can know who she is, once and for all. Alex Gino (they/them) is genderqueer.

Starglass by Phoebe North -  Terra has never known anything but life aboard the Asherah, a city-within-a-spaceship that left Earth five hundred years ago in search of refuge. At sixteen, working a job that doesn't interest her, and living with a grieving father who only notices her when he's yelling, Terra is sure that there has to be more to life than what she's got. But when she inadvertently witnesses the captain's guard murdering an innocent man, Terra is suddenly thrust into the dark world beneath her ship's idyllic surface. As she's drawn into a secret rebellion determined to restore power to the people, Terra discovers that her choices may determine life or death for the people she cares most about. With mere months to go before landing on the long-promised planet, Terra has to make the decision of a lifetime--one that will determine the fate of her people. Phoebe North (they/them) is genderqueer.

Power Surge by Sara Codair - Erin has just realized that for the entirety of their life, their family has lied to them. Their Sight has been masked for years, so Erin thought the Pixies and Mermaids were hallucinations. Not only are the supernatural creatures they see daily real, but their grandmother is an Elf, meaning Erin isn’t fully human. On top of that, the dreams Erin thought were nightmares are actually prophecies.While dealing with the anger they have over all of the lies, they are getting used to their new boyfriend, their boyfriend's bullying ex, and the fact that they come from a family of Demon Hunters. As Erin struggles through everything weighing on them, they uncover a Demon plot to take over the world.Erin just wants some time to work through it all on their own terms, but that's going to have to wait until after they help save the world. Sara Codair (they/she) is nonbinary.

Out of Salem by Hal Schrieve - When genderqueer fourteen-year-old Z Chilworth wakes from death after a car crash that killed their parents and sisters, they have to adjust quickly to their new status as a zombie. Always a talented witch, Z can now barely perform magic and is rapidly decaying. Faced with rejection from their remaining family members and old friends, Z moves in with Mrs. Dunnigan, an elderly witch, and befriends Aysel, a loud would-be-goth classmate who is, like Z, a loner. As Z struggles to find a way to repair the broken magical seal holding their body together, Aysel fears that her classmates will discover her status as an unregistered werewolf. When a local psychiatrist is murdered in an apparent werewolf attack, the town of Salem, Oregon, becomes even more hostile to monsters, and Z and Aysel are driven together in an attempt to survive a place where most people wish that neither of them existed. Hal Schrieve (xie/hir) is a genderfluid trans man.

This is Kind of an Epic Love Story by Kacen Callender - Nathan Bird doesn’t believe in happy endings. Although he’s the ultimate film buff and an aspiring screenwriter, Nate’s seen the demise of too many relationships to believe that happy endings exist in real life.Playing it safe to avoid a broken heart has been his MO ever since his father died and left his mom to unravel—but this strategy is not without fault. His best-friend-turned-girlfriend-turned-best-friend-again, Florence, is set on making sure Nate finds someone else. And in a twist that is rom-com-worthy, someone does come along: Oliver James Hernández, his childhood best friend.After a painful mix-up when they were little, Nate finally has the chance to tell Ollie the truth about his feelings. But can Nate find the courage to pursue his own happily ever after?  Kacen Callender (they/them) is a demiboy.

Ninefox Gambit by Yoon Ha Lee - Captain Kel Cheris of the hexarchate is disgraced for using unconventional methods in a battle against heretics. Kel Command gives her the opportunity to redeem herself by retaking the Fortress of Scattered Needles, a star fortress that has recently been captured by heretics. Cheris’s career isn’t the only thing at stake. If the fortress falls, the hexarchate itself might be next.Cheris’s best hope is to ally with the undead tactician Shuos Jedao. The good news is that Jedao has never lost a battle, and he may be the only one who can figure out how to successfully besiege the fortress.The bad news is that Jedao went mad in his first life and massacred two armies, one of them his own. As the siege wears on, Cheris must decide how far she can trust Jedao–because she might be his next victim. Yoon Ha Lee (he/him) is a trans man.

Second pic: Books with trans characters

Gracefully Grayson by Ami Polonsky -  Alone at home, twelve-year-old Grayson Sender glows, immersed in beautiful thoughts and dreams. But at school, Grayson grasps at shadows, determined to fly under the radar. Because Grayson has been holding onto a secret for what seems like forever: “he” is a girl on the inside, stuck in the wrong gender’s body.The weight of this secret is crushing, but leaving it behind would mean facing ridicule, scorn, and rejection. Despite these dangers, Grayson’s true self itches to break free. Strengthened by an unexpected friendship and a caring teacher who gives her a chance to step into the spotlight, Grayson might finally have the tools to let her inner light shine.

Beautiful Music for Ugly Children by Kirstin Cronn-Mills - "This is Beautiful Music for Ugly Children, on community radio 90.3, KZUK. I'm Gabe. Welcome to my show."My birth name is Elizabeth, but I'm a guy. Gabe. My parents think I've gone crazy and the rest of the world is happy to agree with them, but I know I'm right. I've been a boy my whole life.When you think about it, I'm like a record. Elizabeth is my A side, the song everybody knows, and Gabe is my B side--not heard as often, but just as good.It's time to let my B side play.

Symptoms of Being Human by Jeff Garvin - The first thing you’re going to want to know about me is: Am I a boy, or am I a girl?Riley Cavanaugh is many things: Punk rock. Snarky. Rebellious. And gender fluid. Some days Riley identifies as a boy, and others as a girl. The thing is…Riley isn’t exactly out yet. And between starting a new school and having a congressman father running for reelection in uber-conservative Orange County, the pressure—media and otherwise—is building up in Riley’s so-called “normal” life.On the advice of a therapist, Riley starts an anonymous blog to vent those pent-up feelings and tell the truth of what it’s REALLY like to be a gender fluid teenager. But just as Riley’s starting to settle in at school—even developing feelings for a mysterious outcast—the blog goes viral, and an unnamed commenter discovers Riley’s real identity, threatening exposure. Riley must make a choice: walk away from what the blog has created—a lifeline, new friends, a cause to believe in—or stand up, come out, and risk everything.

The Art of Being Normal by Lisa Williamson - David Piper has always been an outsider. His parents think he's gay. The school bully thinks he’s a freak. Only his two best friends know the real truth: David wants to be a girl.On the first day at his new school Leo Denton has one goal: to be invisible. Attracting the attention of the most beautiful girl in his class is definitely not part of that plan. When Leo stands up for David in a fight, an unlikely friendship forms. But things are about to get messy. Because at Eden Park School secrets have a funny habit of not staying secret for long…

Mask of Shadows by Linsey Miller - Sallot Leon is a thief, and a good one at that. But gender fluid Sal wants nothing more than to escape the drudgery of life as a highway robber and get closer to the upper-class—and the nobles who destroyed their home.When Sal steals a flyer for an audition to become a member of The Left Hand—the Queen’s personal assassins, named after the rings she wears—Sal jumps at the chance to infiltrate the court and get revenge.But the audition is a fight to the death filled with clever circus acrobats, lethal apothecaries, and vicious ex-soldiers. A childhood as a common criminal hardly prepared Sal for the trials. And as Sal succeeds in the competition, and wins the heart of Elise, an intriguing scribe at court, they start to dream of a new life and a different future, but one that Sal can have only if they survive.

The Past and Other Things That Should Stay Buried by Shaun David Hutchinson - A good friend will bury your body, a best friend will dig you back up.Dino doesn’t mind spending time with the dead. His parents own a funeral home, and death is literally the family business. He’s just not used to them talking back. Until Dino’s ex-best friend July dies suddenly—and then comes back to life. Except not exactly. Somehow July is not quite alive, and not quite dead.As Dino and July attempt to figure out what’s happening, they must also confront why and how their friendship ended so badly, and what they have left to understand about themselves, each other, and all those grand mysteries of life.

I Was Born For This by Alice Oseman -  For Angel Rahimi, life is only about one thing: The Ark – a pop-rock trio of teenage boys who are currently taking the world by storm. Being part of The Ark’s fandom has given her everything – her friendships, her dreams, her place in the world. Jimmy Kaga-Ricci owes everything to The Ark too. He’s their frontman – and playing in a band is all he’s ever dreamed of doing. It’s just a shame that recently everything in his life seems to have turned into a bit of a nightmare. Because that’s the problem with dreaming – eventually, inevitably, real life arrives with a wake-up call. And when Angel and Jimmy are unexpectedly thrust together, they will discover just how strange and surprising facing up to reality can be.

The Pants Project by Cat Clarke - Whoever wrote the uniform policy decided (whyyy?) that girls had to wear skirts, while boys were allowed to wear pants. Sexist. Dumb. Unfair. “Girls must wear a black, pleated, knee-length skirt.” I bet I read those words a hundred times during summer vacation. The problem wasn’t the last word in that sentence. Skirt wasn’t really the issue, not for me. The issue was the first word. Girls. Here’s the thing: I may seem like a girl, but on the inside, I’m a boy.

#trans #tdov #trans day of visibility #transgender day of visibility #tdov 2020 #books #trans books

[darawonplease]

✵ polaris. ch.1 - gone.

characters. DPR Ian / Christian Yu / Mito, CL

a.n. I embarked on a new journey! I felt so inspired by dpr ian's single, "so beautiful" and I thought it was the perfect occasion for me to try and write something new. Let me know if you want to read more, my "author"  twitter account is @darawonplease as always.

   ✵ ch.1 - gone.  

「 ☽ Ian's POV」

"Pose for me Chae".

I hid a smile behind my beloved camera. I had captured countless breathtaking sights in every nook and cranny of the planet during my several trips with the DPR crew, but I perfectly knew, deep down, that Rin's beauty couldn't possibly be replicated by a still image. All her moves, little expressions. How perfect was the mole under her red lips?

Every view was unique, vivid with color, rich in sound and smells. Seeing her surrounded by the emerald colored sea strengthened my desire to just take her with me, make her hop on my motorcycle, and travel around the world. Just the two of us and our little adventures. Unfortunately, I had to suppress all of those fantasies for my own sake.

She leaned on an off-white wall, spreading her arms like an eagle ready to fly off, her usual bright smile printed on her lovely face. The Greek sun was kissing her golden skin. God sure had his favorites and Chae was one of them.

.

"Just like this?".

"Perfect".

.

I zoomed in on her face and noticed a rebellious lock of hair levitating in the warm breeze brought by the sea of Crete.

I took a few steps towards her and slowly brought my hand to the strand of hair covering her shiny eyes in the attempt of tucking it behind her ear.

.

"Here".

.

My heart sank. She avoided my hand, a slight hint of panic in her voice. I knew she did not want it to make it awkward for me. She was like that. Making people uneasy wasn't her thing.

"I-I got this!". She fixed her hair by herself.

That small episode perfectly mirrored the unrequited feelings I had been growing for a year and a half in her favor. I resented myself for not being able to keep those feelings from developing any further. That strong admiration slowly became a solid friendship and before I realized it, I was sucked into her world.

✵

She unknowingly became my muse, the source of my inspiration. I found myself clinging onto her way more than I was proud to admit. I couldn't lock up my feelings, even after knowing of Dabin's. Saying my friendship with him had inadvertently changed because of the sentiment we both had for Chae was an understatement.

Knowing her was both a blessing and a curse. If only I stayed home that day, the day of the networking party. I hated those events anyway. If only I didn't succumb to Dabin's insistences to attend that stupid event.

When it came to love, me and Chae were on the same page. It was during that trip to Santorini that she finally admitted to me, after a year of friendship, that she was in fact in love with someone, someone who didn't reciprocate her feelings.

Chae had always been very reserved, always averting the topic of love life and turning it into a joke. I hated myself for noticing. For noticing anytime her usual smile vanished when the topic was brought to the table. We were similar in a sense. I would look at her and see myself; hurting, perfectly knowing we had to let go but being unable to do so.

.

If I were you - 2NE1 ♪

I wish I could love you

I wish you would love me

I wish we could be together just for a day

So I can let you go without regrets

The only one to listen would be me

Along with the burning candle

There's not much left to my heart

This beautiful house feels like prison

The tactless night sky is so beautiful

Sometimes, I want to push everything back and go out like you

I want to wash down my pain with alcohol, my sadness with laughter

But I don't .

✵ .

"To the future!".

Our beers almost clinked when I pushed hers with the bottom of my bottle, making her beverage overflow in bubbles and ultimately wetting her denim jacket.

"CHRISTIAN!".

She called out my name with indignation – if video-making was my passion, pranking Chae was second in line.

"Sorry Chae, I couldn't help it".

"Idiot". She stood up from the deckchair and annoyed, removed her jacket, revealing the oversized graphic tee hidden under.

"Anyway, this place turns into something completely different at night".

"Right? It's incredible how the view changes when it's kissed by the moonlight". She sipped at what remained in the bottle.

"They're taking an awful lot". I whined.

"I thought they were just buying more booze, maybe they're drinking it by themselves". She chuckled, covering her mouth with one hand.

.

I tried to enjoy those few fleeting moments alone with her as much as I could. I couldn't let myself go any closer than that. I couldn't believe how well I could cover up my feelings for her. Those precious sentiments lied safe deep inside me, not even Dabin knew, that's why he left me with the woman of his dreams with no second thoughts.

What a terrible friend I was.

.

She suddenly crossed her arms, uselessly trying to endure the cold, her body shivered when the night breeze hit the hotel terrace where we decided to spend our last night in Santorini.

"Here". I placed my green jacket on her shoulders, I couldn't stand to see her suffer in silence. Not even cold.

"I can get another jacket from my room".

"Your room it's too far from here, just stay". I stopped her from standing up again.

"Thank you...". She held onto the jacket, closing it with her hands and smiled at me with gratitude.

The waves crashing on the beach in front of us made the perfect background for the conversation that slowly deepened as the night fell onto us, brightening Chae's face with a slight glow. It all looked too serene not to be a sweet dream.

"Will you ever talk about the person you're in love with? We've been friends for while, but that part of your life is still unknown to me" - I blurted out because of the extra shots I had. If only I didn't ask something so stupid...

She was clearly taken aback by my sudden question, she averted her eyes and reached for the glass shot she placed at the side of her deckchair.

"You know what? Nevermind". My stupid mouth started blabbering again.

She drank the shot, the alcohol in her glass glistening under the moonlight.

"The person I love. Jiyong. That bastard...".

"Chae...".

"If only he knew I'm still not over him after all these years, I'd make myself pathetic".

That fucker. I burned in envy at the thought of him choosing to reject Chae's love, when I couldn't even express my true feelings.

It was clear she was fighting hard to prevent her eyes to pour out all her pain. She looked up to the sky, avoiding my gaze.

"To be truthful, I accepted Dabin's invite to come to Greece with you all just because I wanted to flee from him. I couldn't stand to see Jiyong at the company anymore".

Witnessing the tears travel down her cheeks for the first time broke my heart. I couldn't forgive my stupid self for asking. I wanted to blame the alcohol, but I knew deep down - the toxic curiosity of knowing why she was hurting so bad was the true culprit. I felt weak. Unlike Chae, I just couldn't let go of the person I loved. I preferred to suffer in silence, loving her from afar. Never touching her, keeping my safe distance, but never letting her go - like a coward.

I caressed her back as she wept in silence. She then embraced me tightly, the sound of her sobbing truly agonizing.

"I'm sorry for not telling you sooner Ian, you're a real one", she whispered, destroying me. I couldn't help but hold her even closer to me, her body shuddering against mine made me feel all her pain. All of it.

Being a good friend to her was all I could do.

If only I knew that would be our last night together, I would've embraced her even more tightly. What a fool I was for expecting her to always be my side.

✵

"Man, she already took off with the plane to LA, she didn't want to interrupt your sleep".

Dabin placed his hands on my tense shoulders. I didn't even have the chance to say goodbye properly.

And just how unexpectedly she crashed into my life, she was gone.

.

.

ps. I embarked on a new journey! I felt so inspired by dpr ian's single, "so beautiful" and I thought it was the perfect occasion for me to try and write something new. Let me know if you want to read more, my "author" twitter account is @darawonplease as always.

.

masterlist  ✵ next chapter.

#CL #2NE1 #chaerin #dprian #christianyu #dpr #semi-au #sobeautiful #polaris

[bisexualsforprompto]

Miraculous: Reborn Chapter Three

Ao3

First    Next

Marinette had been miraculously brought back to life six years earlier. Truth be told, she didn’t remember much of her resurrection. When she was brought back she didn’t have any scars, not even the one she cherished so dearly, the first injury her soulmate gave her. It seemed odd or silly to celebrate such a thing, but she did, and now she never could again… Although she didn’t remember much of her resurrection she did remember her mother holding her and crying but that was about it.

Everyday for six years she was protected like some giant secret. In a sense, she was. She wasn’t allowed to go outside, attend school (she was homeschooled by Sabine), or talk to anyone. It was more boring than being dead, Marinette remarked one day when she had breakfast with her parents.

They promptly explained to her that they were only trying to keep her safe. What would the outside world think if the dead Dupain-Cheng child mysteriously showed up out of the blue? People had watched her die. It would be a witch hunt if they found out she was alive, her parents feared she’d be experimented on, but for some reason that made Marinette feel unsettled.

Not because she was afraid of being experimented on, but because it seemed like her parents weren’t being completely truthful. Marinette grew wary of them and that night marked the first day she snuck out.

Her parents were working in the bakery, and Marinette knew they wouldn’t be up to check on her for at least two hours. She put on sunglasses and a hat and made her great escape.

The world was so much more beautiful than she had remembered, but she had been cooped up in her room for three years before she even dared to venture outside. The only thing Marinette wasn’t impressed with when she left her house were the Parisians. There was even a man who was about to be run over by a car and no one did a single thing.

No one but Marinette, she sprung into action and pushed him out of the way. She ran back home as fast as she could after she made sure he was okay, that act would bring attention to her and her parents could not know under any circumstances that she decided to sneak out.

Oddly enough after her dinner that same night there was a black box with scripture she couldn’t recognize in her room…

Ladybug was her only freedom, that was why she got along so well with Chat Noir. They had both lost their freedoms in different ways, Marinette of course didn’t tell him the whole story, only that her parents were overprotective and she was homeschooled. She and Chat were best friends, inseparable. It reminded her of her relationship with Nino.

Nino...It broke her heart so much when she found out he was akumatized. He was one of Hawk Moth’s first victims and it was all her fault. Nino was akumatized into a villain who could raise the dead, after an insensitive classmate inadvertently brought up Marinette. Luckily for the red clad heroine, she was able to purify the akuma before Nino got to her grave (the Dupain-Chengs made one for show after Marinette was brought back to life). Part of her always wondered what would’ve happened if he got to her grave and realized she wasn’t buried there.

Although Marinette wanted nothing but to laugh with her best friend again she knew she couldn’t reveal herself to Nino, for her and her parents safety, but more selfishly, because she thought that he could never accept her, she’d basically lied to him for the years she’d been alive without telling him.

She made it a point to check on him as Ladybug every so often.

Her freedom was stripped of her though, when she and Chat Noir defeated Hawk Moth. She almost cried, she should have been happy Hawk Moth no longer wielded his miraculous, but it just made her empty inside. When Hawk Moth’s identity was revealed Chat Noir revealed his identity as well so he couldn’t be seen as an accomplice to his father. Marinette was really the only one who stayed out of the spotlight, she didn’t tell a soul, not even Adrien. After all, she was legally dead, what would Paris think if their hero’s life was a lie?

Although it had already been an excruciating month since Master Fu took the Ladybug miraculous away from her, Marinette couldn’t help but reach for her earrings ever so often. Sometimes she’d even open her bag to talk to Tikki, only to find she wasn’t there.

The month without her freedom had been so hard to bear that Marinette snuck out in her disguise once more. Only, there was a strong wind that day and Nadja Chamack was passing by when Marinette’s hat blew off her.

Careless, she remembered scolding herself when she got home. She hoped Nadja wouldn’t recognize her, after all she still had sunglasses on, but when her parents came up to her room in a furious rage she realized that she wasn’t so lucky.

Sabine yelled at her and Tom lectured her about going out. It was all a blurry haze of swirling emotions, she could barely recall what her parents yelled at her. She remembered the moment that broke her heart though.

She could still hear Sabine’s words in her ear, “Pack up, you’re going to live with your uncle in Gotham. It’s no longer safe for you here.”

Marinette understood, she really did. She didn’t harbor any resentment against her family either, they were just trying to help. She knew her parents loved her, they even acknowledged they were sending her to the crime capital of the world, so they sent had her uncle enroll her in a private school far away from Gotham. Her parents told her that it would take a while to get to school each day, but it was all in her best interest.

She believed them.

What a mistake that was.

Marinette was excited for her first day at West-Reeves. She could live as Mari Dupain without anyone remembering the girl who was a mere ghost. She hadn’t been to school with other people for awhile but she surely wasn’t expecting such a big fanfare.

The moment she arrived in the office she was whisked away by a cheery half-Guyanese girl with a green jacket and LGBT+ patch. Marinette surveyed her surroundings with suspicion, something she’d gotten used to as Ladybug. She hadn’t had human interaction outside of being the heroine for six years, the only way she knew how to act was how she acted as Ladybug. She even instinctively touched her earrings only to find her ears bare. She almost sighed, but she didn’t have time for her tour guide was dragging her to her homeroom.

At that moment Marinette realized she hadn’t really been paying attention. She was focused so much on the small details, or what would’ve been useful for her as a hero (emergency exits, possible defensive weapons) that she had missed pretty much all of what her tour guide said.

She scolded herself and tried to pay more attention. There wasn’t much to pay attention too however, before Marinette knew it, she was outside a room which her tour guide started to open slowly as she said her goodbyes.

“Thank you, I appreciate it.” Marinette said as she shook the girl’s hand for the last time. “No prob!” Said her guide shooting finger guns at Marinette as she scurried off to class.

Marinette chuckled to herself lightly before gulping and entering the room. She hadn’t been to school in a while, sure, but she wasn’t expecting the reaction she was given.

Everyone’s eyes were on her as soon as she set foot in the classroom. She stepped in the front of the room, choking back her nervousness. She was greeted with a bombardment of two blonde girls who looked like...Chloé.

Marinette wrinkled her nose at the thought, one of her last memories was Chloé telling her off, saying she wasn’t good enough. ‘Thanks but no thanks.’ Marinette rolled her eyes as she brushed past them.

The two blondes gaped at her as she rudely shied away from them. Marinette walked to the back of the classroom, friendly waves thrown at her (besides the two girls she shook off) as she tried to find an empty seat. She felt confident that if more than two people could fit at a desk someone would’ve invited her over, or maybe they already knew how unnatural she was…

Was it possible the waves and smiles were out of pity? Marinette entertained the thought before pushing it away and moving to the very back of the class.

“Oh my god, she’s gonna sit with the Ice Prince!” Marinette heard a juvenile voice snicker. “Serves her right.” Whispered one of the blondes under her breath in a very Chloé like fashion.

“You think he’ll yell at her?” Whispered a voice too low for Marinette to hear. “Nah I bet he’ll start throwin’ punches!” Exclaimed a burly and immature jock.

Marinette didn't understand who the so-called ‘Ice Prince’ was or why they were being so mean about him. She decided immediately that she didn’t like any of her fellow classmates.

Marinette slid wordlessly into the only empty chair, towards the back of the room. An alluring boy with tan skin, green eyes and black hair that complimented the navy blue uniform the school had was sitting with perfect posture while reading a book. Marinette was actually relieved he didn’t talk to her, she was able to enjoy some much needed quiet time. She never had this much attention when she came back to life, although the only time she really got out of the house was as Ladybug.

Marinette and the boy sat in silence for a while until the teacher hurried into the room. The woman stood in front of the class and clapped her hands, “Okay class! We will get started in just a few minutes, but as you might have noticed, we have a new student!” Marinette felt all eyes flicker to her. “Could you introduce yourself sweetheart?” Asked the teacher kindly.

“Sure,” Marinette said as she stood up, hand rubbing the back of her neck, “I’m Mari Dupain. I come from France, specifically Paris.” She had guessed that the teacher would ask her to introduce herself, Tom and Sabine had been drilling her over and over again so she didn’t slip up and reveal her real identity.

“It’s a pleasure to have you Mari! Why don’t you come up and get your copy of Animal Farm. Everyone had to read it yesterday, and we will discuss it, but it’s okay that you haven’t read it yet.” The teacher said sweetly motioning towards a book at the front of the class.

“A-actually I have read it.” The boy next to her raised an eyebrow as she continued, “When I was homeschooled my maman- I mean mother made me read it in English.” The teacher gave her a blinding smile which made the class roll their eyes, another try-hard. Marinette walked down to the front of the class to grab her copy anyway and walked back to the boy in the back who had set down his book.

“Alright! Let’s dive right in then!” The teacher clapped her hands as she sat on the desk. “What do you guys think Animal Farm is an allegory for?”

It was so quiet Marinette could hear a pin drop, she wanted to raise her hand but was nervous to. When nobody did the teacher remarked, “Ok, raise your hand if you read the book.”

Marinette and the boy beside her were the only two who raised their hands. The teacher sighed and rubbed her temples, “One more than last time.” She mumbled. Sitting up straighter she asked, “So Damian, Marinette, can one of you tell me what Animal Farm is an allegory for?”

“It’s-“ Marinette began.

“Russia under the reign of Stalin and communism.” The boy- Damian interrupted. Marinette gaped, she was about to say something why did he start?

“Well technically not communism.” Marinette muttered under her breath. Damian raised an eyebrow, “How would you define it?” He asked with a slight bite underneath it.

“Damian-“ the teacher started.

“Totalitarianism.” Marinette gulped, “Because communism was they wanted to achieve but it's impossible because of human greed.” The class almost hid under their desks, prepared for the next war. They motioned to Marinette to stop but she hadn’t seen it.

“Hmmm. Interesting point Dupain.” Damian said, Marinette beamed at him sweetly, she enjoyed having a conversation with someone else interested in academics.

She hadn’t had that in so long.

She hadn’t had human connection in so long.

#soulmate injury au

[falllpoutboy]

fuck it. rey organa solo

or how this scene in the rise of skywalker should’ve went. 

Her training was vigorous and longer than she would’ve liked, but it kept Rey focussed and balanced and she knew deep down that it was necessary. When the battle droids stopped firing, only then was Rey able to slow down into a light jog and then stop altogether. She turned off Luke’s newly fixed lightsaber and turned back into the clearing where General Leia was waiting.

The tropical jungle planet of Ajan Kloss was the Resistants new base, and while it had been a year since they had landed there shortly after the massacre on Crait, Rey still found herself marvelling the beautiful scenery around her. Thoughts about Crait and what happened there began to creep back into her mind, and Rey’s mood soured instantly. She kept replaying it in her head and going over each situation in her head, trying to think about what she could’ve differently. If I hadn’t wasted time with Kylo, I could’ve saved more. I could’ve helped The Resistance. I could’ve saved Luke…

However, deep in her distressing thoughts, she didn’t even realize she had made it back to the clearing. She nearly walked right into the General!

“Whoa, hold on Rey, are you alright?” Leia asked and jolsted Rey out of her trance. Knowing that she should be mindful of her thoughts, Rey shook her head and reassured her. But Leia knew better.

“You’re thinking about it again, aren’t you? Crait. Luke. Kylo…” Leia correctly guessed and Rey knew it was because of her force sensitivity and their bond with each other. When Rey started with Leia, their Force bond was immediately strong and it grew with every session, trial and lesson. Like her bond with Finn, it was ever-present and calming, non-pervasive and genuine, so unlike her unnatural bond with Kylo.

“Yes… I am,” Rey admitted. “How can I not think about it?” 

“It makes you feel low.” Leia surmised again and Rey nods.

“More than just feeling low, but like a failure,” Rey confesses and Kylo’s nasty remarks come to her mind again. You come from nothing, you’re nothing….

“Oh Rey…”Leia sighs and guides her to sit down. “I know that feeling all too well. When the Empire destroyed Alderaan for my lie, I couldn’t help but think of all the ways it could’ve happened. Millions of my people’s lives would have been spared  if I had done something different. Eventually, after my grief passed, I could only come to the conclusion that they were going to use Alderaan as a demonstration of the first Death Star’s might to the rest of the galaxy, no matter what I could’ve said or done. What matters is what we do afterwards to make it was all worth it, to do better and learn from our mistakes and to keep pushing forward,” Leia affirms and she stares into the distance. “It’s a lesson I’ve learned and still am learning today…”

For a few moments, Rey quietly absorbs the General’s words and wisdom. It comforts her but there was still something she’ll never get over…

“There’s still something bothering you?” Leia inquires and Rey slowly nods.

“Before I joined you all on Crait, you know how I went to confront Kylo on Snoke’s ship,” Rey recounted and Leia nods quickly. “When he rejected my help to turn him, he also made an offer in turn for me to join the First Order and become his apprentice to the dark side. He said that I come from nothing, and that I am nothing.... But not to him,” Rey finished bitterly. Suddenly, Leia’s grip on her hand tightened  and her expression hardened as turned to face Rey.

“Kylo lied to you, Rey. You’re not nothing and you don’t come from nothing.”

“Yes, and he said my parents sold me off for drinking money and that they were nothing.”

“He lied again. I have something very important I’ve been wanting to tell you for some time now, I thought I’d never had the time to, with how busy we’ve been, but truthfully, I’ve been putting it off. I thought if I told you after the war was over you’d understand but its pastime you’d know now. Ben is not Han and I’s only child. We wanted to wait a bit until we had another but then, a bit turned out to be almost 10 years. A daughter was born to us and we named her after my mother, Breha Organa’s mother, Aureyla. But we all called you “Rey” for short. I knew Ben was being corrupted from the darkside since before he was born and when you were only two years old, he had inadvertently hurt you with his abilities. So Han, Luke and I decided to take precautions and enrolled him full time as Luke’s padawan in his new Jedi academy and we hid you away, on Lah’mu, away from the dark influence preying on both of Anakin Skywalker’s descendants. We placed you under the care of the locals and we visited you ever moon cycle, sometimes twice. But we were wrong to have thought you’re identity would stay undiscovered. I guess the Lah-mui saw the famed Rebellion generals Han Solo and Leia Organa too frequently visiting the little girl and put together the pieces,” Leia’s voice breaks and a tear slips down her cheek, but she continues. “When you were just one moon shy of six years old, a few drunk locals took you from your caregivers to Jakku and sold you for drinking money. Greed can be as dangerous of a vice as the dark side is.”

Rey could hardly believe what she was hearing. She wouldn’t have believed what was she heard if it was said by just anybody, having been trained to recognize deceit through the Force, but Rey senses through her bond with Leia that every word she said was true. Every cell within her pulsed and sang with the new revelation, the truth. Finally, finally.

“I… so you’re my…. My mum,” Rey stammered out and General Leia, her kriffing mum, shyly smiles and nods. “If you’re my mum… then Ben is….”

“Your older brother, yes.”

“And Han was my… is my…” Just saying Han’s name made Rey’s heart clench and tears spring to her eyes. The image of his death still burned in her mind and knowing that it was her brother killed their father pushed the tears out. “Did he even recognize me a year ago?”

“He did and when you were taken, we planned to tell you as soon as you were rescued. As the years passed and we still couldn’t find you, Han lost hope the most although I tried reassured him that I knew you were still alive due to our force bond. Your disappearance coupled with Ben succumbing to the darkside and Luke’s exile painfully pushed him back into smuggling and we separated. Please understand that I never game up hope for you, but the First Order rose so quickly and Luke’s disappearance also made it so much more difficult for me to find you. For fourteen years, not a day went by without me thinking about you, Rey.” At that, they both stood up and met in the middle for a bone-crushing hug.

It could’ve been minutes, hours or a few days but time didn’t matter to Rey now, not when she was wrapped in the warm embrace of her mother. Their force bond was so palpable and enrapturing, it filled them with such a feeling of content and happiness, so much that Rey never wished for it to end. Then something dawned on her.

“Wait,” she sniffled, still slightly crying. “You and Han being my parents must mean that Luke is my…”

“Uncle.” A voice Rey never thought she’d hear again sounded from behind her and she gasped when she turned around. It was Luke, but not quite Luke. He wore the Jedi robes she last saw him in but his visage was tinged with an outwardly blue glow and he was nearly transparent. This was the corporeal Force spirit one could project after they’ve died, Rey knew from reading the Jedi texts she took from Ahch-to. 

“So you recognized me too, huh?” Rey questioned, curious to know why he lied to her as well.

“I knew…. But I didn’t care,” Luke admitted, almost shamefully. “I couldn’t make myself care. Then, I asked who you are to see if you even knew but you didn’t, so I didn’t care. I’m sorry I died without having properly greeted my niece and for not treating her with the respect she deserves. And for not being the teacher I should’ve been.”

His sincere apology touched Rey deeply and she smiled at her uncle. She knew now the reason for his indifference and could not hold it against him now. “I forgive you. And I’m sorry for attacking you that night.”

“All is forgiven,” Luke reassured her and he smiled gratefully. “I know this is all coming as a shock to you, I thought my parents were nobodies too until I got a rude awakening.”

“Luke, you can’t hold that against me forever,” another voice chimed in and Rey and Leia whirled around to see what it was. Another force spirit had appeared, a man older than Rey but younger than Luke and Leia, dressed in Jedi robes with shoulder length hair and bore a strong resemblance to Luke and Leia, even herself. 

“Father,” Luke greeted warmly and walked around to him.

“Anakin,” Leia acknowledged him but stayed close to Rey. Father… Anakin… Skywalker. My grandfather.

“All of our family’s problems seems to just repeat themselves,” Luke mused and then remembered himself. “Father, this is Aureyla, Leia and Han’s daughter. She wields our lightsaber now.”

Rey didn’t think she’d be making introductions to the notorious Darth Vader when she woke up earlier, but here she was. A lame “Hi” was all she could manage to say.

“From what Luke has told me, you’re strong in the ways of the Force. As strong or even stronger than me. Rey, you could be the one to bring balance once and for all and destroy the Sith foever. But you will be tempted and tested,” Anakin firmly stated. “Don’t fall victim to the dark side as your brother did, try to overcome it with everything you have.”

“A thousand generations live in you now…. But this is your fight,” Luke adds. However, Rey still has one more inquiry to make.

“What about Ben? I know he’s been seduced to the dark-side and has chosen it over and over, but what if there’s still a chance he could be saved,” Rey asks and her relatives look uncertain. “I don’t know if I can kill my brother knowing there’s a chance he could change.”

An uneasy silence falls over then and then Anakin speaks up. “You’ll do what feels right. Your instincts and feelings will guide you towards the answer. You can make your choice to save him, whilst Kylo can choose to continue his path and ignore any other options. You’ll know what to do then.”

The unspoken words were there, plain as day: If he won’t make the choice to join you and save himself, kill him or let him die. It left a bad taste in her mouth but Rey knew she would have to make the hard decision herself when the time again. Her father’s death flashes before her eyes again and Rey knew Kylo would have at least that to answer for. She nods grimly.

“I wish we all could’ve been a family together, Rey laments and Anakin’s eyes soften. “There’s so much I want to know about you all.”

“We’ll be with you Rey. Soon, after this is over, we’ll appear to you and we’ll talk about whatever you’d like,” Luke consoles her.

“May the Force be with you,” Anakin proclaims and they suddenly depart with a soft fade. Taking their advice and wisdom to heart and mind, Rey looks to her mother with resolve. 

“Let’s go Mum, we’ve got a war to win.”

#rey skywalker #rey organa-solo #safe rey solo #safereysolo #my fics #this turned out way longer than expected lmao anyways #aureyla is pronounced with a silent u btw!!! #leia organa #luke skywalker #anakin skywalker #mentions of b*ndemption smh

[someonewhowandersislost]

The beast and the fighter

Sometimes it would be for minutes, sometimes hours. Perhaps you could relate. Sitting and staring at the television, the same page of a book, or maybe the wall. Soaked in emptiness and weighed down by the monotonous day to day activity. Weighed down so heavy that even when you do have some down time to relax, you’re immobile.

Have you ever known someone was going to hit you, but you have to wait for it? Have you ever had to wait for something bad to happen and the anticipation is worse than the horrific act itself? Your fight, flight, or freeze reaction takes over and you’re just stuck. You’re stuck in time. People are moving on and living their lives around you, but here you are staring at a fucking wall panicking over something you can’t quite put your finger on.

There is a dark beast in all of us. It lurks. It tells us to settle. It tells us that we’re not good enough. It tells us that we don’t deserve to reach our goals and to not even bother trying because failure is inevitable. It’s the beast that tells us to wait and not take initiative in life. It’s the beast that leaves you waiting for your life to begin and lies to you telling you that you don’t have the power to create your own life.

It’s the beast that throws your conscious brain into a dark hole and controls your every move until you can claw your way back to the surface. Right when you get back to thinking for yourself and being self-aware that hungry beast reminds you of your place in society and all the bad things that will happen if you try to be happy. It becomes an endless cycle. It becomes in itself a routine.

Before you know it the beast doesn’t need to throw your consciousness into the dark hole. You go willingly without even realizing it. You lose your internal monologue. You lose your connection and communication with yourself. The moment a stressor makes you feel inferior your conscious brain sulks to the dark hole and willingly throws itself to the bottom of the pit.

The worst thing that happens in the pit is the growth of apathy. You lose the magic you once had for life. You used to believe in a selfless but enthusiastic kind of love. You believed in finding joy in the little spontaneous moments in life. You believed that everything worked out for good as long as you believed it.

Once apathy takes control you believe yourself to be foolish for believing in human connection and joy. You’ve become jaded. You believe you will always feel so numb and empty sitting in the bottom of the pit waiting for someone to pull you out, but no one can.

If you’re very lucky you might meet someone who has a light that shines so bright you can see it from the bottom of the pit, their energy screams out to you so loudly it shakes you back to consciousness. They don’t pull you out of the pit, but they remind you of what is outside of the dark pit you’ve been trapped in. They share their courage and bravery with you. With their help you learn to be brave and be your own hero.

Every day that you go into the pit you’re able to climb back out a little quicker. Soon you realize the lies you’ve been telling yourself to protect yourself were the same lies the beast was telling you when it threw you into the pit.

Every day you’re more honest with yourself and I mean painfully honest about what you need in your life and what you need to do to meet those needs. You begin to notice the hole doesn’t seem to be as deep and you can see your way out more clearly.

You stop making excuses for your choices and start living out your truth. You make the hard choices that make you grow stronger. You’re starting to realize you never really knew yourself, but you’re starting to fall in love with who she is.  

The choices you’ve made have been painful not only to you but to those around you. The guilt you’re feeling for inadvertently harming those you love is nowhere near as powerful as the freedom you’re experiencing in living your truth.

Your internal monologue returns. You can talk yourself through most situations because you’re not alone in the pit anymore, you have yourself. You feel the tension being released from your forehead, your neck, and your jaw. You can truly open your eyes because you’re feeling light and ready to view the world through a new point of view. You can look yourself in the eye for the first time in years.

When you feel the beast threatening you and pushing negative thoughts into your head you can rationally think through the situation instead of visiting the warm quite hole which was a pain and a comfort to you for years. Thinking through this painful situation and facing it head on is the only way to move past it.

Hiding and disassociating in your comfort zone isn’t an option anymore. The real life you’re beginning to create for yourself is much more satisfying when you’re aware. You’ve regained the desire taste, feel, hear, smell, and see the painful beauty of life.

One day the beast is just gone. It’s just you in there encouraging yourself. Reminding yourself that you’re beautiful, you’re strong, you’re brave, and you deserve the life you’re willing to create for yourself.

Then it hits you, you were the beast. You were your own worst enemy, destroying yourself when you thought you were protecting yourself. Using self-doubt to save you from disappointment.

Never again.

You couldn’t be more grateful that you’re you. You have climbed out of that pit so many times that now the strongest version of you is the best version of you, and she is a fighter.

#depression quotes anxiety hope

[sesskagarchive]

Dark/Tragedy

Fics that have a darker tone and/or plot, where really bad things happen and the endings might not always be happy.

‼ Please note that these themed lists may always be expanded based on the suggestions and recs we get, so the lists might change at any given time, even after they’ve been reblogged ‼

A Demon Lord's Cry by Kagome Yuki Niwa

Posted on: Dokuga, FFnet Rating: MA Summary: His howls haunted his castle and with nothing else to do, his subjects call upon Kagome to subdue their lord. Rin has died and her death causes Sesshoumaru to loose himself to his raging beast. While subduing the Western Lord, Kagome inadvertently binds herself to the taiyoukai, making herself Lady of the House of the Moon, and suffers all the perks and downsides of being human royalty among a demonic court. **Winner Joint 2nd Place Drama for the 2010 3rd Quarter Awards**Nominated 1st Quarter 2011 Best Drama, Best Canon**Winner 3rd Place 1st Quarter Best Darkfic/Horror**Winner 2nd Place 2nd Quarter Best Drama** Status: Hiatus/Abandoned

A Self Called Nowhere by Noacat

Posted on: FFnet, Spark Rating: MA Summary: Minor Edits to ch. 14. Six years after leaving the feudal era, Kagome contemplates her choices. She looks to the stars for answers and finding nothing, looks inward. Status: Abandoned

A Woman! by Sugar0o

Posted on: Dokuga, FFnet Rating: MA Summary: Loosely based of off 'Mulan.' Kags decides to take her fathers place in the war for the West, but gets caught unexpectedly. AU, S/K, evey1s a demon mostly **COMPLETE**

Alpha by Lyra

Posted on: Dokuga, FFnet Rating: MA Summary: Kagome mates Inuyasha...but Inuyasha was reluctant. Why? Pack politics...and his brother, who is Alpha. What that means will take time to learn, if Kagome can only live long enough for the lessons... Finally Complete!

Behind the Curtain by MissKatt

Posted on: Dokuga, FFnet Rating: MA Summary:  Unable to pay for her brother's cancer treatments once the insurance no longer covers it, Kagome is presented with an opportunity to pay off the debt. After being thrust into a world she never thought she would be a part of, she is presented with several new opportunities; some which are good and some not so much.

Beneath the Light of the Moon by Inari24

Posted on: Dokuga, FFnet Rating: MA Summary: Kagome returns to the Feudal Era and finds that the past has fallen victim to the Dark. An ancient evil has escaped its prison and it seeks to extinguish the Light and Kagome finds herself a target. The Western lord stands at her side, unwilling to allow the Darkness to possess the beautiful priestess or destroy the future he intends for them. Status: Hiatus/Abandoned

Blood Stained by Madison

Posted on: AO3, Dokuga, FFnet Rating: MA Summary:  COMPLETE! A sudden loss of control intertwined their fates. It dragged her through hell and he couldn't have cared less. She tried to escape her fears but the only way to do it was to face him through time and love.

Broken Promises by Oroyukae

Posted on: Dokuga Rating: MA Summary:  She had believed all he had said , whispered at the most intimate of moments in their life together. No, he hadn't lied to her, he couldn't do that . He just repeatedly made promise after promise that he found hard to keep. [ FIN ]

Capital Offense by Oroyukae

Posted on: Dokuga Rating: MA Summary: It was wrong; it was illegal...it was reciprocated. Like his father before him, he could not deny what he felt for the human female. For that, he would pay dearly. He found himself faced with the question he had asked his father numerous times...was it worth it? {Complete}

Captured and Trapped by sweetest angel

Posted on: Dokuga, FFnet Rating: MA Summary: Kagome woke up in a cell...and not alone. Will she survive her ordeal? Will she be able to escape? SessKag pairing. Rating for later chapters. Sorry, bad summary.*Last Chapter*

Dragon Dancer by Scar

Posted on: Dokuga, FFnet Rating: MA Summary: Beaten into giving up her pink ballet shoes. Beaten almost to death, Kagome swore she would never come back. Yet here she was years later back in Japan, surrounded by her future. In the middle of striking business deals something darker then an abusive ex boyfriend is lurking. Sesshomaru has agreed to help her, it was supposed to be just business but it turns into something else. (UNDER REVISION)

Dragon's Prey by CiraArana

Posted on: FFnet, Spark Rating: MA Summary:  A new kind of dragons invades Japan, dragons from the Far West whose prey are virgins. What is the best way for a girl to protect herself against these dragons? Well, it is obvious, isn't it ...? COMPLETE  

Elsewhere by flowers

Posted on: Adult fanfiction, FFnet Rating: MA Summary:  With the medicine of time healing has begun. The well is sealed yet he is hesitant. A promise long ago binds him to his acitons. How will she react to this monster from the past? SessKag. Content somewhat dark.

Fugue by Resmiranda

Posted on: FFnet, Spark Rating: MA Summary: The present revolves around the past; truth and remembrance are two different things. After the well closes forever, Kagome finds a familiar face in the present era. [SessKag] [COMPLETE]

Golden by acediadono

Posted on: AO3, Dokuga, FFnet Rating: MA Summary: War has broken out between the Demon Lords of Feudal Japan, the Lord of the West enlists Kagome to fight on the front lines as his spiritual weapon. Trying to juggle the demands of two time lines and attempting to save the demon way of life is not an easy task. Not everything is as it seems. SessxKag MA Lemon/Smut.

Golden Veil by BelovedStranger

Posted on: Dokuga, FFnet Rating: MA Summary: A 100 word drabble series: Sesshomaru suffered an unfortunate loss; though, he hid the pain inside, but Kagome was a kindred spirit who understood the feelings he refused to acknowledge, knowing without seeing that they were there.

February Lullaby by kaoruhana

Posted on: Dokuga Rating: MA Summary: Kagome and Sesshomaru meet when their respective spouses are in a car accident. The event changes both their lives as they come to learn of the reason for the accident and get to know each other in the period that follows. Loosely bad off the Korean movie "April Snow". Status: Hiatus

Make Up Your Mind!! by Koishii_Beloved

Posted on: Dokuga, FFnet Rating: MA Summary: Sesshoumaru and Kagome, both, have agreed to a divorce. Kagome is all ready for it, but what happens when Sesshoumaru decides to back out?

Moonstruck by Aiwendil Amaurea

Posted on: FFnet, Spark Rating: MA Summary: Sesshoumaru, driven by his pride and arrogance, kidnaps Kagome for his own purposes. In the moonlight, the line between friend and foe blurs, and confusion reigns. Trapped in a deadly countdown, two lost souls wait for the darkness to wane. {Completed}

Never Forget by BelovedStranger

Posted on: Dokuga, FFnet Rating: MA Summary: A man unwilling to commit, a woman whose heart has shattered. Love can so easily turn to hate. Kagome vows to make Sesshomaru feel the same heartache he has inflicted upon her, but will her vengeful schemes backfire when, finally, Sesshomaru realizes how much Kagome means to him and vows to mend her broken heart? Or was he too late?

Of His Blood by OnyxIvyStone

Posted on: Dokuga Rating: MA Summary: This is only a moment. It's’ only a fraction of your life, Kagome. And you’ll go on now and be stronger because of it. You’ll live and be happy, love and grow and forgive. You will because you are loved.

Priceless by Cassie

Posted on: AO3, Dokuga, FFnet Rating: MA Summary: Sesshomaru is the CEO of his father's company. On his way home from work one night, Sesshomaru's beast stirs, which hasn't happened in over 200 years. What could this mean? Sesshomaru had kept it locked up for so long, why is it coming back to the surface now of all times, and what is with this odd sense of urgency? Rated mature for graphic depictions of self-harm and abuse, as well as some strong language. Be warned! Status: WIP

Red Lotus by Maddie-san/Madison

Posted on: AO3, Dokuga, FFnet Rating: M Summary: Five hundred years later, an obligation brought him to her when the end was near. He could watch her die, or he could vow to look after her until death do them apart. Status: Hiatus/Abandoned

Rise Again by Catalina

Posted on: Dokuga Rating: MA Summary: Youkai have become weak and feeble but are attempting to strengthen their population. Sesshoumaru leads them, and discovers the solution to their problem in an unwilling human. VERY non-consensual stuff happens. Frequently.

S t a s i s by wonderbug

Posted on: AO3, Dokuga Rating: MA Summary: Love, he tells her, as he trails a claw along the pathway of her shivering spine, is only a human notion. [VERY dark; drabble-ish CU/AR]

Stealing Heaven by Freya Ishtar

Posted on: Dokuga Rating: MA Summary: COMPLETE! Higurashi Kagome thinks it a dream come true when she gets an internship on an archeological dig, but finds that her life is in another's hands after her professor, Taisho Sesshomaru, becomes possessed by an entity that considers his prize pupil quite the delicacy. *2nd Place Best Angst Fiction at the Feudal Association, Sept. 2011* *1st Place Best Darkfic/Horror, 1st Place Best Lemonfic, 2nd Place Best AU/AR, Nominated Best Drama~ 4th Qtr, 2010; 1st Place Best AU/AR, Nominated Best Drama~ 1st Qtr, 2011; 1st Place Best Lemon~ 2nd Qtr, 2011* *1st Place Best AU/AR & 2nd Place Best Darkfic/Horror~ 1st Qtr, 2012*

The Broken Miko by RosieB

Posted on: FFnet Rating: MA Summary: New summary: After a tragic battle and a wish with unexpected consequences, Kagome finds the infamous taiyoukai. He has the power to help her, but will he? KagomeXSess COMPLETE WITH EPILOGUE!

Unforgivable by Walter205

Posted on: Dokuga Rating: MA Summary: What had happened to her was no excuse. What she had done was unforgivable and now, ten years later, she would finally have the chance to pay for her mistake. (Content Warnings include Gang Rape, Victim Blaming, and Suicide). Status: WIP

Unworthy One… by Vyncent

Posted on: Dokuga, FFnet Rating: MA Summary: They all were dead, but one. Yet the lone survivor was not alive either. **Not for Kikyou Lovers! This story contains violence, sexual content and rape! You are WARNED**

Violation of Honor by Rinseternalsoul

Posted on: Adult fanfiction Rating: MA Summary:  Post Naraku-Canon: Sesshomaru faces a vindictive female youkai that holds a weapon that controls the mind, and he becomes her slave to all things carnal. Used and broken, can a miko's gentle touch save him? Lemon, N/C, Slav

Virginity of the Soul by Madison/Maddie-san

Posted on: Adult fanfiction, AO3, Dokuga, FFnet Rating: MA Summary: Fresh from a betrayal that shattered her world, she was lured into getting even. Alas, the ones we trust and love aren’t always the ones we should. Semi-PWP. COMPLETE

When the Belladonnas Bloom by NovemberDoll

Posted on: Dokuga Rating: MA Summary: Cursed upon birth, exalted as the most notorious puppet of the Warlord Onigumo, his first and beloved consort finally turns sixteen. A gift from her generous lover: a harem of her own, to quell her insatiable lust. But many a man that stepped in her bedchambers were never seen alive again. That would change tonight, when a golden-eyed concubine accidentally unravels a most hidden secret. (AU) Status: WIP

Winter Hearts by Scarredbride

Posted on: Spark Rating: MA Summary: Complete..Dark Sesshoumaru/Kagome fanfiction. Starts out with sexual violence and abuse. Things do run a little smoother later on.

#sesskag #SKFA Themed Rec List