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ana-cantskywalker · 5 months ago

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Update update:

Alright I had to ask my sister permission to post this because it’s more about her personally (because I was always kind of a tag along because of the business and my sister was more her actual best friend, because I am a lot younger than they are) and less about us and the business than I thought it would be. But I wanted y’all to know that it is relatively resolved

(B will stand for our ‘friend’ and C will stand for my sister)

Basically, the conversation went like

B: You hurt me because I feel like I prioritize you all of the time and you never do anything for me unless it’s convenient (not true)

C: If you can’t see everything I have done for you over the past year (dropping everything to go help B with her horses for the entire day multiple times, always showing up when she needed help, I have been there every step of this friendship and honestly I have never seen C give so much of herself to someone else. C has done so much for her without complaint and everything B has done, no matter how little effort it was, she is acting like was a huge sacrifice) then I don’t know what I am supposed to do

B: You are a selfish person and you need to change before we can continue to be friends (hello?????)

C: I agree that we both have things to work on

B: No, I am a good person and a good friend, you are a bad friend, and I can’t keep giving myself waiting on you to change your personality (this is paraphrasing she didn’t explicitly say that, but it was heavily implied because she constantly talked highly of herself and how loyal she was and constantly talked poorly about C, like she was just this horrible person while B was perfect. She also implied that C needed to ‘grow up’ which is really rich coming from someone who is extremely immature. And HELLO???? If you are a good person YOU DONT SAY THAT TO YOUR FRIENDS)

C: (trying to change the subject because knowing B no amount of hey, that’s not how this is and here’s why, is going to work and B is just going to lose her temper because she always does) do you realize what the common denominator in all of our arguments is (the business it’s always the business)

B: a character trait (implying that C was the reason and the problem in every argument and that once again B has never done anything wrong. When if fact, her high expectations of us and low expectations of herself are what caused most of them, like what happened Monday)

C: No the business

B: yeah because you don’t do the things you commit to (again, not true. For our event last month, we not only completed everything we were supposed to, but finished some of her stuff, and she still didn’t get everything she was supposed to done)

C: ok if that’s the way you feel about it

Basically the whole conversation was just B came in to crap talk C, and act like the victim when she has caused most all of the problems. C just started saying ok because there was no point in trying to reason with her. People have told us she is a manipulator before and we ignored it because we really wanted it to work out, but we saw how true it was yesterday.

She told us after the shipping ordeal on Monday, she was so upset about being let down that she not only cried on a woman in the shipping depot but then proceeded to go home and get drunk as a skunk, which in my opinion really speaks to her emotionally immaturity (this woman in in her thirties, and married with a kid, not a teenager or 20 year old).

They’ve decided to ‘take a break’ for some space, but C is not going to initiate anything until B does, and even then they can never go back to being close friends the way they were after this.

There were a lot of red flags that we ignored (the fact that we didn’t want to bring her around our family, the fact that we felt like we were constantly walking on eggshells around her to not make her upset, she never did anything for us unless it was convenient etc etc) but now that we’ve seen them we can’t unsee them.

I knew she had some character flaws, but I really didn’t expect her to be that self centered and insensitive to just berate C like that. Honestly, I hate to say this about a person, but I genuinely think she is crazy she’s just very good at hiding it, I don’t see how else she could perceive the situation in the way she did. I think she got upset about last week when we said we wanted to start our own thing but still be close (for the sake of the relationship of all things) and it spiraled into her being the constant victim in the relationship so that she could have someone to blame.

We both want to be on good terms with her as to not destroy our chances of being a witness, but we also cannot allow that kind of stress and negativity back in our lives. Me and C are very very close (like do almost everything together close) and we have never argued as often or as violently as we have the past three months and it’s almost always been over B.

So, after all of this, please pray for my sister. We’re both glad the situation is over and done with, and she feels like she handled it in the way she was supposed to (I agree) but hearing someone that was supposed to be your friend tell you that you are inherently selfish and a terrible person, and that everything about you needs to change is a really hard blow on someone’s mind and soul, (even though she knows it’s not true, and I do too, it’s still difficult to process).

Thank you everyone who did pray for us. We asked the Lord that if he wanted us out of the relationship for B to end it, and she did, so it’s an answered prayer, even if the situation kind of makes me feel gross and disappointed. But again, thank you so so much for your prayers over the past few days :)

I hesitate to bring this up because there are so many people going through so so much worse right now ( I have been so burdened for people in damage from Helene, even more than I normally am for people in disasters), but I could really use some prayers from my friends.

Going to keep it short so I dont just trauma dump all over your feed, but I feel like some explanation is necessary.

Me and my sister started helping a friend with her small business in the Spring. We got more and more involved, and really saw an opportunity, but we didn't pray or seek wisdom before we jumped in head first, and its coming back around to bite us.

We had a big event last month, and it was horrible, our friend started getting ridiculously upset with us for not dedicating enough time to the business (when we had not only finished all of our projects but also some of hers) and was just generally constantly stressing us out over things. She's just generally really difficult to work with, and then refuses to ever be in the wrong even when she is. Since then we've prayed about what to do, and the Lord gave us some guidance. We knew we couldn't keep being her friend and working so close quarters with her, so we came up with a solution. We were going to start are own business that was similar but would not tap into her market at all and therefore not create competition, and still help her with hers when she needed it, but less than before so we could continue to be friends but not constantly bite each others head off.

We sat down last Wednesday and talked with her about it, and she was fine with it, said it was a good idea even. Well, over the weekend she has gone crazy (I hate to say it but idk how else to describe it) She pitched a fit over my sister not wanting her to be on the patent for a design my sister made from start to finish (she has no reason to be on it, and if we ever give someone permission to use the design for royalties it would mean she gets 50% because technically she would own half) and then today she called us and needed us to meet her with one of the things we had at the house that was sold so she could ship it, but she called 45 minutes before we would have had to leave. We were both busy and couldn't do it and she want ballistic, called us several times, ended up calling my mom multiple times and my mom ended up meeting her somewhere closer so she would leave us alone. She has taken this tiny issue that she caused by not communicating and made us to be the bad guys, told us it was 'unacceptable' and is threatening to end the friendship because my sister wouldn't call her on the drive down to the meeting she had to go to because she was riding with someone else (and its kind of rude to argue with you 'friend' on the phone while someone is driving you somewhere). She is acting like we are being horrible people for not being able to work it out the way she wanted tonight.

Looking back we can see that its always been like this, we've always had to bend over backwards for her while she won't inconvenience herself for us, but its hard to deal with now.

I feel like I am rambling a lot and probably venting too much too people online but I needed to tell someone because the whole ordeal has me really stressed out, and I know that there are people on here who will pray for me. My sister hasn't been sleeping well and I am getting ulcers and I think its because of how much she has stressed us out over the past month and a half an I am sick of it

All this to say, please keep us in your prayers, I'm not trying to gain sympathy or anything, I just really need the Lord to have his hand in this and I would appreciate prayers.

#personal #prayer request

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perpetual-stories · 4 years ago

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How To Fight Writers Block

hello, hello. hope everyone is doing well. as you can all tell, this post will be about how to fight writers block.

it’s really annoying to me when I hear people say “oh you don’t have writers block, you’re just lazy.”

first of all, yes, I am naturally lazy. second of all, how dare you. writing isn’t as easy as many think. granted, all you have to do is write down words on paper, but it’s not always easy to find the right words to express what you are feeling, or what you wish to say.

I have had terrible writer’s block for the last few days and it’s horrible! as a business owner or a small writing store, I have to be ready to write and fulfill my clients’ ideas and orders.

it’s not easy. It takes a heavy toll on my imagination, and digs me a deep pit of blockage, drowning in the lack of originality because of the constant writing and repetition or certain phrases and sentences in different projects.

i am making this post in the hopes to remind myself about over coming the dreaded and sometimes skeptically believed writer’s block.

What is writer’s block?

Yeah, I know. We all know what that is, but let me define it.

is the state of being unable to proceed with writing, and/or the inability to start writing something new

some people believe it to be a real problem, others believe it's “all in your head”

What Causes Writer’s Block?

in the 1970s, clinical psychologists Jerome Singer and Michael Barrios decided to find out

they concluded that there are four broad causes of writer's block:

Excessively harsh self-criticism

Fear of comparison to other writers

Lack of external motivation, like attention and praise

Lack of internal motivation, like the desire to tell one's story

How to overcome writer's block: 20 tips

1. Develop a writing routine:

Author and artist Twyla Tharp once wrote: ��Creativity is a habit, and the best creativity is a result of good work habits.”

it might seem counterintuitive

if you only write when you “feel creative,” you're bound to get stuck in a tar pit of writer's block

The only way to push through is by disciplining yourself to write on a regular schedule. It might be every day, every other day, or just on weekends — but whatever it is, stick to it!

2. Use "imperfect" words:

A writer can spend hours looking for the perfect word or phrase to illustrate a concept

You can avoid this fruitless endeavor by putting, “In other words…” and simply writing what you’re thinking, whether it’s eloquent or not

You can then come back and refine it later by doing a CTRL+F search for “in other words.”

3. Do non-writing activities:

one of the best ways to climb out of a writing funk is to take yourself out of your own work and into someone else’s

Go to an exhibition, to the cinema, to a play, a gig, eat a delicious meal

immerse yourself in great STUFF and get your synapses crackling in a different way

Snippets of conversations, sounds, colors, sensations will creep into the space that once felt empty

4. Freewrite through it:

free-writing involves writing for a pre-set amount of time without pause — and without regard for grammar, spelling, or topic. You just write.

The goal of freewriting is to write without second-guessing yourself — free from doubt, apathy, or self-consciousness, all of which contribute to writer's block. Here’s how:

Find the right surroundings. Go somewhere you won't be disturbed.

Pick your writing utensils. Will you type at your computer, or write with pen and paper? (Tip: if you're prone to hitting the backspace button, you should freewrite the old-fashioned way!)

Settle on a time-limit. Your first time around, set your timer for just 10 minutes to get the feel for it. You can gradually increase this interval as you grow more comfortable with freewriting.

5. Relax on your first draft:

Many writers suffer form perfectionism, which is especially debilitating during a first draft

“Blocks often occur because writers put a lot of pressure on themselves to sound ‘right’ the first time. A good way to loosen up and have fun again in a draft is to give yourself permission to write imperfectly.” — editor Lauren Hughes

perfect is the enemy of good,” so don't agonize about getting it exactly right! You can always go back and edit, maybe even get a second pair of eyes on the manuscript

6. Don’t start at the beginning:

the most intimidating part of writing is the start, when you have a whole empty book to fill with coherent words

instead of starting with the chronological beginning of whatever it is you’re trying to write, dive into middle, or wherever you feel confident

7. Take a shower:

Have you ever noticed that the best ideas tend to arrive while in the shower, or while doing other “mindless” tasks?

research shows that when you’re doing something monotonous (such as showering, walking, or cleaning), your brain goes on autopilot, leaving your unconscious free to wander without logic-driven restrictions

showering is my favourite thing to do if I may add

8. Balance your inner critic:

successful writers have in common is the ability to hear their inner critic, respectfully acknowledge its points, and move forward

You don't need to completely ignore that critical voice, nor should you cower before it

you must establish a respectful, balanced relationship, so you can address what's necessary and skip over what's insecure and irrelevant

9. Switch up your tool:

a change of scenery can really help with writer's block. However, that scenery doesn't have to be your physical location — changing up your writing tool can be just as big a help!

if you’ve been typing on your word processor of choice, try switching to pen and paper. Or if you're just sick of Google Docs, consider using specialized novel writing software.

10. Change your POV:

great advice from editor Lauren Hughes: “When blocked, try to see your story from another perspective ‘in the room’ to help yourself move beyond the block. How might a minor character narrate the scene if they were witnessing it? A ‘fly on the wall’ or another inanimate object?

11. Exercise your creative muscles:

Any skill requires practice if you want to improve, and writing is no different! So if you’re feeling stuck, perhaps it’s time for a strengthening scribble-session to bolster your abilities

12. Map out your story:

If your story has stopped chugging along, help it pick up steam by taking a more structured approach — specifically, by writing an outline

13. Write something else:

Though it's important to try and push through writer's block with what you're actually working on, sometimes it's simply impossible

feel free to push your current piece to the side for now and write something new

14. Work on your characters:

It follows that if your characters are not clearly defined, you’re more likely to run into writer’s block

15. Stop writing for readers:

write for yourself, not your potential readers

this will help you reclaim the joy of being creative and get you back in touch with what matters: the story.

this is something I really need to do. because of my etsy business i don't write for fun anymore, but instead as a business and a deadline. i'm going to have to pull out my old crappy wattled fanfics or write some new ones.

16. Try a more visual process:

when words fail you, forget them and get visual. Create mind maps, drawings, Lego structures — ideally related to your story, but whatever unblocks your mind!

17. Look for the root of it:

writer’s block often comes from a problem deeper than simple “lack of inspiration.” So let's dig deep: why are you really blocked? Ask yourself the following questions:

Do I feel pressure to succeed and/or competition with other writers?

Have I lost sight of what my story is about, or interest in where it's going?

Do I lack confidence in my own abilities, even if I've written plenty before?

Have I not written for so long that I feel intimidated by the mere act?

Am I simply feeling tired and run-down?

once you identify what's wrong, it'll be so much easier to fix.

18. Quit the Internet:

If willpower isn’t your strong suit and your biggest challenge is staying focused, try a site blocker like Freedom or an app like Cold Turkey

19. Let the words find you:

meditate, go for a walk, take that shower

Word Palette is a great app that features a keyboard of random words, allowing you to simply click your way to your next masterpiece.

You can also try AI auto-completers like Talk to Transformer, where you can enter a phrase and let the app “guess what comes next.”

even though they often produce nonsense, it's a great way to help that writer's block.

20. Write like Hemingway:

And if your biggest block is your own self-doubt about your prose, Hemingway offers suggestions to improve your writing as you go

it's a pretty cool app if you ask me.

it highlights your sentences (if need be) and makes suggestions on how to improve them!

well, there you have it! a lengthy post on how to fight writer's block. now i just hope i can combat my own soon.

like, comment and reblog if you find this useful! feel free to reblog in instagram and tag me perpetualstories

Follow me on instagram and tumblr for more writing and grammar tips and more!

#writing #writing advice #writing tips #original writing #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #writersconnection #writersofig #writersofinstagram #writings

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sees-writes · 2 years ago

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I posted 191 times in 2022

That's 175 more posts than 2021!

43 posts created (23%)

148 posts reblogged (77%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@scintalla

@slice-of-magenta

@lilshitwayne

@phoenixyfriend

@karate-adjacent

I tagged 103 of my posts in 2022

Only 46% of my posts had no tags

#teen wolf - 32 posts

#scott mccall - 29 posts

#ao3 - 13 posts

#see's writes - 12 posts

#scottuary2022 - 7 posts

#the clone wars - 7 posts

#daredevil - 6 posts

#ask game - 6 posts

#ahsoka tano - 5 posts

#tyler posey - 5 posts

Longest Tag: 98 characters

#the unique teeth designs are one of the more interesting things about teen wolf’s werewolf designs

My Top Posts in 2022:

Does anybody else just love to search up other peoples headcannons about your favorite shows and just spend like, ungodly amounts of time reading what other people think happened or how these characters interacted?

32 notes - Posted June 6, 2022

To all the angry Stiles Fans...

Ok to the people pissed they aren’t bringing Stiles back for the Teen Wolf movie because it has the Nogitsune (allegedly)... take a chill pill. Like you all are acting like he was the only one involved with the Nogitsune and are completely forgetting about the idk WHOLE REST OF THE PACK THAT ALSO HAD TO DEAL WITH IT. Like yes, Stiles was possessed and had to see first hand what the nogitsune was doing and he blames himself and what happened to him was horrible... but he wasn't the only one to walk away from that unscathed. Sheriff Stilinski had to watch his son go through the same symptoms his wife went through before she died, then his son was possessed and people were trying to kill him. Lydia was literally kidnapped by the nogitsune after she had to dive straight into its mind and she was held captive in a place filled with screaming spirits. SCOTT had to watch his best friend suffer and he couldn’t do anything, he had to actively fight people who were ready to put a bullet in Stiles head, he literally got a sword stabbed into him by a demon wearing his best friends face, and his first love died in his arms. OH YEAH ALLISON LITERALLY DIED TOO DID YALL FORGET THAT.

We see mention of the nogitsune maybe like 4 more times after 3b and a shockingly, not all of them were related to Stiles :O In season 6b when the Anuk’ite is trying to taunt Scott, he first uses Void Stiles’ form then the actual Nogitsune form. You literally see Scott flinch when we first hear Void Stiles voice.

So no, the Nogitsune story line does not belong to Stiles. He was a large part of it, but he is not the main focus. The Nogitsune can possess whoever, in the movie it looks like it could possibly be Allison. The nogitsune was the arguably the best villain in all of Teen Wolf, Void Stiles was not stiles, it was the fox disguised as Stiles, it makes perfect sense to bring it back.

48 notes - Posted July 26, 2022

In Teen Wolf I found it really interesting to see the transition of how the characters viewed the moon. In season 1 and 2 the full moon was viewed as a negative entity, one that caused the characters pain and grief.

In season 3 we see a little bit of it at the beginning and it was still a slightly negative thing, but it wasn’t as bad, there was more control. I love at the end of S3A during the eclipse, how so far we’ve mainly seen the moon give power but we also finally got to see it take it away.

By season 4 most of our characters have figured out the moon, they have control and it becomes a kind of right of passage to control the what happens during the full moon.

By season 5 the moon seems more like a benevolent entity. It gives power and it takes it away. In the beginning of the season it has little effect to our characters and mainly seems to promise new beginnings. By the end of S5A with the super moon, it’s once again and enemy.

Season 6 doesn’t really feature the moon. It’s there but it isn’t interfering. I like to think it went back to watching the events instead of influencing them. But without the moon, none of the events would have transpired.

@teenwolf-meta

66 notes - Posted May 2, 2022

Mild Top Gun Maverick Spoilers……

Ok I’m spiraling after seeing Top Gun Maverick again because I WANT THE MAVERICK AND ROOSTER CONTENT. I want the bonding, I want them talking about pulling the papers, I want them just BEING FRIENDS AND FAMILY AGAIN. Give me the fics if Maverick being there as Rooster grew up, give me works or headcannons or anything about them like seriously I need them and I probably need help

73 notes - Posted June 10, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Ok but imagine during the clone wars the 501st is tasked with doing a stake out on some backwater planet to find a crime lord that was dealing with the Separatists, but Anakin is stuck doing something with Obi Wan back on the ship so he sends Ahsoka to lead the stake out.

They’re in this seedy bar all in disguises and they are waiting for one the crime lord to make an appearance and they’ve been there for like an hour when some drunk guy stumbles in and immediately sidles up to Ahsoka. Which makes a bunch of the troopers suspicious. He starts trying to talk to her but she’s just ignoring him because a) its not the first time something like this has happened, b)he’s not who they are there for and c) she doesn’t want to blow their cover.

Then he tries to grab her and next thing he knows he’s got about 29 different blasters pointed at him, 17 knives, and multiple broken bottles along with about 40 people that look the same all glaring at him.

And the Togrutan he was just trying to touch is no where in sight because a bunch of the clones grabbed her and she is currently being airlifted out with her arms crossed and an “are you fing kidding me” expression on her face.

84 notes - Posted April 5, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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thetaleoflevi · 4 years ago

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Company

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Pairing: Levi x Reader

Content Type: SFW, Modern AU, Fluff

TW: Mentions sex for a split second, smoking, heartbreak, mentions death

Description: Reader gets stood up and gets a ride home from her waiter, Levi.

Word Count: 3.4k

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There you sat in that booth. Alone, starving both socially and physically. You were at a restaurant waiting to meet the man of your dreams. You met him on a dating app and the chemistry was too good to be true. He was charming and funny. He comforted you and brought peace to your mind about your biggest insecurities. His personality checked every single one of your boxes for what you described as a “perfect man.”

One thing you failed to remember was his inability to make time for you. He always said he would call you at a certain time and you believed him every. single. time. You waited hours just so that he wouldn’t. He didn’t even text you an excuse for why he had left you hanging.

Why you believed him this time was beyond you. You were waiting for him like you always were. It’s been two hours already. It’s ten o’clock and you are alone, sipping tap water through a skinny black straw. “Ma’am, I’m here to let you know that we close at ten thirty. Are you sure you don’t want to order anything? Not even to-go?” The male waiter looked at you with sympathetic eyes. His name tag read ‘Levi’ in uppercase letters.

You sighed disappointedly and stood up, plopping the napkin that rested on your lap the entire time onto the table. “No, I’m okay. Thank you for all the water refills. This is for you.” You gave him a thirty dollar tip, which you thought was bizarre until you remembered that this was a high-end establishment and people usually tipped amounts in the hundreds. “Thank you, Miss. Have a good night.” He put the money in his apron. “You as well.” You replied squeezing out of the booth and exiting through the large, bulky-knobbed doors.

You were starting to regret wearing such a dress out in public. It was a long burgundy dress that hugged the curves of your body, with straps that hung off your shoulders. Your decision to ditch your jacket was not appreciated with the cold breeze that whistled through the night. The open area on your back had goosebumps that spread to your entire body when you sat down on some steps and leaned on a wall covered in cold, blue square tiles just outside the restaurant.

You were unsure if you should walk home or call a taxi. Both seemed unsafe with the apparel you were sporting. ‘I think i’ll wait here for a little,’ you thought to yourself. You looked down at your phone to see a message from your supposed date. “Sorry. I had to work a little later today. Raincheck?” You scoffed and blocked his number as fast you could. Later you would stupidly regret it when you felt lonely, but for now that was the best choice you could’ve made.

You hugged yourself as the ruthless breeze continued to mock your sleeveless arms. Suddenly a door to your right opened, and out came the waiter who attended you. He was holding a take-out box and the black apron that was tied around his waist before now hung on his forearm. He looked down and flinched in surprise when he saw you sitting on the stairs against the wall.

“Miss, what are you still doing here?” He questioned leaning down to talk to you at eye level. “Don’t ask me that question. I’m too embarrassed to answer.” You closed your eyes for a second and the second after you opened them he was seated next to you. “Cigarette?” He extended an open box towards you. “Don’t you know those things are deadly?” You asked, discreetly voicing your pass on the offer.

“You’re right about that…” He confirmed, pulling one out and stuffing the box into his pants pocket. He put it between his lips and lit it, inhaling for a few seconds before slowly exhaling. A medium sized cloud of smoke left his lips. “…but we’re all going to die someday. We can’t be afraid of the inevitable.” You nod in agreement. “You’re right about that.” You say, returning his line.

Your whole body shivers when the wind strikes your bare arms again. The man next to you notices and looks at you with slightly widened eyes. “I’m so sorry, you must be freezing. Let me get you a jacket-“ “No, no. I’m alright, really.” You interrupted, waving your hands in front of you. “I’m going to get you a jacket. Please, wait here. My car is right across the street. I’ll be back in an instant.” He put out his cigarette and stood up. “Levi, I’m okay.” You say calmly, grabbing onto his arm before he could leave. When he stopped, you slowly retracted your arm.

“I like you. You pay attention to detail. Most people would have ignored my name tag.” He gave you a soft smile. He must have been new to smoking because his teeth still looked nice and he didn’t sound like an eighty-year-old man. “What’s your name?” You stood up so that you could talk to him without having to tilt your head up so harshly. “Y/N.” He nodded in acknowledgement. “Pretty name. So listen, Y/N. I don’t want you to freeze out here. You can’t walk by yourself or take a taxi home this late at night. If I let you do either of those things, I would feel responsible for any horrible thing that could happen. Please—and I’m asking in the most respectful way I can—let me take you home.”

He cringed at himself when he saw how you laughed at the way he phrased his question. “That still sounded bad, huh?” “Yep.” You responded with another chuckle. “Well, you get what I mean. Let me drive you to your house.” You rolled your eyes in defeat. “Fine.” “Great.” “Awesome.” “Spectacular.” “Stupendous.” You were both bickering like children before you finally made it to his car.

“How does a woman like you get stood up on a date?” Levi asked curiously, shaking his head in disbelief. “What makes you think I got stood up?” You say in a playfully defensive manner. He gave you the ‘i’ve-seen-it-happen-like-a-billion-times’ look for a second. “Yeah, I got stood up.” You admitted sheepishly. “Tell me about it. The guy must really be somebody to let you down like this. If I were him, I’d be begging for your forgiveness for hours.” You turned to look at his wide-eyed expression. A slight tint of pink was visible on his cheeks with thanks to the moonlight.

“I-I mean, I wouldn’t do it for hours, but I would definitely beg for your forgiveness.” He facepalmed at his forwardness. “Just tell me about this guy before I pull over and let you drive yourself home.” Levi’s flustered state was the cutest thing you had ever seen.

“Okay, just don’t make fun of his name. Even if he deserves it.” You muttered the last part. “His name is _____. He-” Before you could continue introducing _____ to Levi, Levi had burst into a snickering fit. He was trying so hard not to laugh, trying to remain respectful while you told your story.

“Rude! Anyway,” you continued,“Apart from his name, this man would have been what you would describe as a soulmate, if it weren’t for his awful routine of letting me down when he promised he wouldn’t. He’s funny, he’s handsome, and he was SO good at comforting me. That all goes to waste when you can’t make time for someone. That’s how he went to waste.” The car went silent for a few seconds.

“I know how that feels. Something similar happened to me a few years ago. There was this girl I was crazy about. She was so beautiful and elegant in everything she did. She was a complete opposite to me. We were supposed to get married one winter, but she called it off a few days before the wedding—something about her mom being really sick.” He looked ahead at the road with a look as if he still resented her after all these years.

“It wasn’t until I saw a post— a picture of her and her family in a cabin in the woods. Her mom was alive and well and her new man was doing just fine. The part that left a scar on my heart wasn’t even the fact that she left me for another man days before our wedding. I could’ve dealt with that if she had told me that she had fallen out of love with me and wasn’t going to marry me. But the part that left a scar on my heart is that lie. It had me wondering what other lies there were hidden in our relationship.” Once again the car went dead silent.

“We’re here.” Levi said as he put his car in park. “Thank you for bringing me home, Levi. I don’t know how to repay you. I gave you all the money I had in cash.” Levi chuckled at this. “You don’t owe me anything, but, if you really want to repay me, how about giving me your phone number?” He opened the contacts app and created a contact for you in his phone. He handed it to you so you could put your phone number in.

“Why would you want my phone number?” You ask, taking his phone and typing in the digits. “I really enjoyed your company today, Y/N. Maybe we’ve just been talking to the wrong people this whole time.” He said placing one hand back on the steering wheel. “You think so?” You ask as you hand his phone back to him. He smiled at the numbers printed on his screen before his screen clicked off. “I do.” He says turning his body to face you.

The silence is deadly. It’s intoxicating. Intoxicating enough to plant bad ideas into your head.

“Do you maybe want to come in for some coffee or tea?” Twelve words that would decide whether the two of you still believed in love.

You noticed the way his lips threatened to form a smirk. “We’re not having sex, i’ll tell you that right now.” You say putting a hand on the car door. “That’s not at all what I had in mind.” He said with a cheeky smile. “Good. So are you coming in or not?” You released your grip on the door and backed up a little. He turned off the car and exited, meeting you on the sidewalk. “I’ll have some tea, please and thank you.” You smiled and led him to your house.

You closed the door behind you and watched as Levi let his eyes wander around your house. “It’s small, but I didn’t expect anything too luxurious either. Considering the fact that you tipped me a mere thirty dollars and you’re single. Is this enough for you?” Levi inquired, exploring the walls and looking at the occasional pictures on your walls. You furrowed your eyebrows as you filled a tea kettle with water to heat up on the stove. “First of all, I gave you thirty dollars for serving me four glasses of tap water. Second, how would you know about the way I live based on my relationship status? Third, yes, this is enough for me.”

He changed the subject nervously as he walked into the small room that was your kitchen and dining area, “You have good taste in tea. I’ve been trying to find this specific brand for days now. I see you’re the one cleared the shelves.” He opened a cabinet to reveal boxes on boxes of tea from your favorite tea brand. “It’s kind of an addiction.” You say quietly. He chuckles as he closes the cabinet and stands next to you.

“The water is ready. How do you like your tea?” You held a small white teacup. “That’s alright, I can make it myself.” You give him the teacup and move away from the stove to give him access to the kettle. “Feel free to rummage through my fridge and cabinets for anything you want to add to your tea. I’m gonna go change into something less attention seeking.” He nodded as you walked away, eyeing the way you held the length of your dress to prevent yourself from tripping.

You first went to your bathroom to remove the minimal effort you had made to try makeup. After, you changed into a plain white t-shirt, some gray sweatpants, and some fuzzy socks. Apart from the fuzzy socks, it was a boyish look, but you preferred it over booty shorts and camisoles. You went back to the bathroom to remove the bobby pins that were in your hair, letting every hair that was pinned previously fall into place.

“I’m sorry, have we met?” Levi said teasingly as you made your way to the living room. “Funny.” You replied, sitting far from Levi’s end of the couch.

“So, why did you invite me into your house?” The dark-haired man asked after taking a sip of his tea. You didn’t expect such a question, making it difficult for you to come up with an answer that was quick and sincere. You went with what rolled off your tongue easiest, which wasn’t a safe thing to do with a question like that. “I wanted company.” The sincerity was definitely there.

You brought your knees up to your chest and hugged them. “I waited those two pathetic hours at the restaurant because I wasn’t expecting to come home alone again. Somebody promised to be there.” Levi tilted his head at your words. “Well you managed to do the first part. I’m here. And I may not be the person you expected, but I can do those same things he did better.” He set his cup down and watched as you chewed on your nails, as if it was the most fascinating thing he had ever seen.

You stopped once you felt the annoying feeling in your chest tone down. “I think you should stop smoking. Lung cancer isn’t pretty.” He picked up the teacup in the strange manner you had noticed before and took another sip. “Give me a really good reason and i’ll consider it. Don’t make it a scientific one either, like cancer and shit like that.” He set the cup down on the table once again. He crossed his legs as he waited for you to give him your great reason for preventing an entire addiction.

“I want to have enough time to befriend you. I can’t do that if you’re slowly decreasing your lifespan.” You lowered your knees to sit more comfortably in a cross-legged position. He stood up and walked closer to your end of the couch and ended up sitting a foot away from you with your legs touching.

“Why would you want to befriend someone like me?” You could see the tiredness in his eyes. From the short distance between you two, you could finally appreciate the attractiveness of the man in front of you. He had the prettiest gray eyes that you could see your reflection in. He had beautiful inky hair that was styled in a way that made him look professional, not to mention, handsome. The bags under his eyes hinted that he was potentially an insomniac, but who were you to judge? You frequently partake in sleepless nights as well.

“You’re a good guy, Levi. I can see myself falling in love with you and your chivalrous charm. Though you’re still a stranger, I invited you into my home because you’ve gained some of my trust. Unlike the disgusting men i’ve talked to before, you still haven’t asked me where my bedroom is. You’re not pushing me to do anything I don’t want to, and frankly, you don’t bring me the slightest bit of discomfort. You also haven’t let me down tonight. Not once. You brought me water every time I almost finished my glass and you got me home when in my head I didn’t know how I was going to get there.”

He had the most grateful look in his eyes, like you had saved his life from an endless void. “Can I kiss you?” He asked in almost a whisper. Your heart went from relaxed to racing as soon as you heard the word ‘kiss.’ You were visibly nervous and Levi caught on instantly. “Is it too soon?” So many questions had been asked today yet none of them had your heart threatening to show itself like the last two.

“Do you really want to?” You asked obliviously, continuing the line of questions. “Yes, so badly.” He reassured.

You pulled him closer to you by the collar of his white dress shirt. His lips softly locked with yours, enveloping you with warmth internally and externally. There was no lust poured into this moment. It was a scene that demonstrated the mutual appreciation of two souls who thought love was not to be counted on. You could smell the deep scent of black tea on his lips as you brushed your lips out of his hold, only to be brought back for more.

His hand landed on your waist, bringing familiar goosebumps to your skin. You weren’t on earth anymore. You were roaming the clouds outside the gates of heaven. This innocent display of affection brought tears to your eyes, which rolled down your cheeks and left gray spots on your white shirt. Your hold on his collar loosened when you brought your right hand to his cheek, caressing it gently. Levi’s hands rode your sides up and down slowly over your shirt, wishing he could feel the warmth of your skin on his fingertips.

You both pulled away slowly, looking into each other’s eyes with pure admiration. His thumbs instantly went below your lower lash line and cheeks to dry the tears that had escaped your eyes. “What’s wrong?” His eyes went soft as you held his hand in place. “I’m so damn deprived of affection. This is the first time i’ve kissed—touched someone and let them touch me like this in over two years.” You bring his hand to your lips and kiss the palm.

“I thought you and _____ were close.” You rolled your eyes internally at the thought of that guy. “We’ve never met. Today, uh…” You let out a weak chuckle. “…we were supposed to meet in person for the first time.”

Levi furrowed his eyebrows slightly in disgust and hatred for the man. “Nobody deserves you, Y/N. Not even me. You’re too good for people. Don’t let this guy place a value on your worth when he didn’t even bother to meet you. He’ll never know what it’s like to kiss your lips, or to inhale your debilitating scent. He missed out, and i’m glad he did. No offense.”

You chuckled at his sweet words. “You’re too kind, Levi.”

The conversation between you two continued for hours. It varied from what an ideal man would be for you and what an ideal woman would be for him, to what plans you both had for the future. You never thought you’d be sharing so much with a person that you met literally hours ago.

The night ended for you two at two in the morning. “Thank you for staying for so long, Levi. I appreciate the wholeness you brought to my house.” You walked behind him as you followed him to his car. “I’ll be using your number often, so don’t forget about me.” His hand found it’s way to your cheek again and shielded you against the cold wind. “You’re still not wearing a jacket, Y/N. Unbelievable.” He teased.

He opened the back right door of his car and brought out a forest green hoodie. “Put this on.” He requested, putting it in front of you. “No.” “Y/N.” “No.” “Y/N, please. For me?” You sighed, annoyed at the moment at his protectiveness. You slipped the hoodie on, it looked just slightly oversized on you. “Thank you. Now your turn.” You rolled your eyes playfully and muttered,“Thank you,” under your breath. “Huh? What was that?” “Thank you, gosh!” He chuckled as he pulled you into a hug. You could feel his shoulders shake which made you smile like an idiot.

“You look so cute, and now I have an excuse to come back. Whoops, I ‘forgot’ my hoodie.” “You’re a goofball.” You reply, planting a kiss on his cheek, then one on his forehead. “I should get going. If I don’t leave now, I’ll want to stay with you all night.” He kissed your forehead, the breeze cooling down the spot instantly. “Goodnight, Levi.” A gentle smile formed on your lips. “Goodnight, Y/N.” He got into his car and drove away until you couldn’t see the lights anymore.

I won’t smoke anymore cigarettes, Y/N. For your sake.

#aot #attack on titan #captain levi #levi ackerman #shingeki no kyojin #levi x reader #aot x reader #levi ackerman x y/n #fanfic #levi fic #levi x y/n #levi #levi aot

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selkiewife · 3 years ago

Note

So I was wondering if you have any thoughts on Robb and Dany parallels?

Obviously there is a lot of stuff out there that considers Dany and Sansa and whether they are in opposition as characters or not. And people consider the parallels between Jon and Dany, or Arya and Dany, but in my mind the Stark who's arc she has most in common with is Robb, both thrust into positions of power and responsibility, both succeeding in conflicts which clearly leave devastation their wake and then having to learn how to rule (as a side note I would prefer if asoiaf young team were learning how to govern not rule but it's a feudal society so what can you do?)

Anyway have you ever thought about this (probably you have and have said something insightful and I've not noticed). Thanks.

Oh no. You know when you get an ask and you are suddenly like, oh shit, I have fooled people into thinking I know what I am talking about. I have really not explored their parallels in depth. Mostly because I have not been as obsessed about Robb’s ruling arc as much as I have about Daenerys’. And my obsession with her ruling arc was a direct result of Season 8 and me being like... if this was where it was all leading, where is the evidence in the books? And going back to reread and finding... well, no evidence lol.

Thank you for this ask though @st-clements-steps! It is really interesting. Especially since you are right! It is strange that people don’t seem to focus a lot on Robb and Dany parallels compared to the other Starks, especially since they are both in ruling positions. I am going to post some of my thoughts but I’m also going to tag @rainhadaenerys who might have written or know of metas written about their parallels. I ramble a bit about the parallels I see in them under the cut, but it is not well researched or backed up with textual evidence. But hopefully this might start an interesting discussion at least. And please feel free to point out inaccuracies and such!

One of the cursory parallels between them off the top of my head is that they are both such young rulers. And yet, they are both incredibly introspective and strategic rulers that honestly don’t get enough credit for their intelligence or wisdom from the fandom. They are also both fantastic examples of how difficult ruling is. They are both often faced with horrible choices- where it is not a choice between a good thing and an evil think, but rather, two equally bad things. And they try to choose the thing that will do the least amount of damage.

They both have a magical beasts (though I’ve never seen anyone say that Robb would be “nothing” without Greywind. lol sorry. My saltiness jumped out.) There also seems to be a parallel where they are both called upon to chain up their magical beasts (which again, leads to Robb’s death... but not Daenerys since she ends up being able to tame and ride Drogon.) I think there may be an inverse parallel there where Robb has wolf dreams, like all his siblings, but doesn’t completely understand what is happening, whereas Daenerys understands her dragon dreams and that is possibly what saves her from death. We see that with Jon again later- where he does not completely understand the dreams or their bond which leads him to ignoring Ghost’s warnings the night he is assassinated.

Both Daenerys and Robb are idealistic and want to do the right thing to the detriment of their own rule at times. They also have parallels about duty vs desires. Though, I don’t really want to compare the inverse parallel of Daenerys putting aside her personal feelings to marry Hizdahr for peace vs. Robb marrying Jeyne Westerling instead of his Frey betrothed. Because in the books, Robb did not marry her for personal romantic feelings but because of his sense of duty towards her. Though interestingly, this action led to his death and Daenerys marrying Hizdahr almost led to her being poisoned by the honeyed locusts (though I know there are other theories that is was someone else who poisoned them).... hmm I mean, there might be something there but... I don’t know. Anyone else have any thoughts?

I also think it is very interesting that Daenerys sees Robb at the Red Wedding in her visions in The House of the Undying:

Farther on she came upon a feast of corpses. Savagely slaughtered, the feasters lay strewn across overturned chairs and hacked trestle tables, asprawl in pools of congealing blood. Some had lost limbs, even heads. Severed hands clutched bloody cups, wooden spoons, roast fowl, heels of bread. In a throne above them sat a dead man with the head of a wolf. He wore an iron crown and held a leg of lamb in one hand as a king might hold a scepter, and his eyes followed Dany with mute appeal.

The idea that his eyes are following her with mute appeal... that is so sad and creepy- and what could it mean? Is it a silent cry of empathy towards her, echoing his, “Gods be good, why would any man ever want to be king?” Is it a warning that she could also be assassinated (but she definitely knows that- she has always been the victim of assassination attempts since birth.) Does it have something to do with Jon and the fight against the Others? I don’t know, but I think it��s interesting.

These are a few of the parallels that I thought of right away. But I am sure there are many more. I will definitely keep my eyes open as I reread and maybe at some point write an actual meta about it. But again, if anyone knows any metas or discussions about Daenerys and Robb’s parallels, please let us know!

#daenerys targaryen #robb stark #daenerys & robb #daenerys & robb parallels #asoiaf #ask answered #thanks so much for the ask!#st-clements-steps

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wonderlandhatter · 4 years ago

Text

Reminds me you’re there.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x SSAReader (I'm pretty sure it can be read as GN)

Summary: You've always done it , and at this point you've kind of forgotten about it, until Spencer points it out after a case and you get embarrassed, so he comforts and reassures you.

Word count: 1054

Warnings: I don't think there are any, high school kids being mean but it is very brief and not detailed. just a load of fluff because what else e do I write lol. Spencer calls you cute which isn't a warning but it should be because if he ever me cute I will have a heart attack.

A/N: AHSMVHL OK so this was my first request which I was so excited to get, I posted asking for requests and then deleted the post because I got scared of getting requests which is dumb i know but I'm really happy I got this one. I'm really sorry it took me so long to complete this I have a lot of school work atm. i hope this is ok I'm sorry if it isn't what you were looking for feel free to message me if you would like a different request. Hope you enjoy.

A/N2: My old account got deleted so I'm just reposting my fics I would appreciate if you could bust this so i could get back to where my account was thank you for your time.

Tagged: @pinkdiamond1016

It was just something you’ve always done, as you grew up it happened less and since you’ve done it for so long you don’t even notice it anymore. Now that doesn’t mean other people don’t.

Highschool had been the worst for it, kids can really be mean for no reasons. Teachers would also get really annoyed with you for whistling during their lessons thinking you were taking the piss, you didn’t mean to, it just kind of happened and when you were nervous it seemed to happen more, it was just vicious cycle.

Now that you were older it didn’t really bother you, it didn’t happen often and when it did, no one made a big deal out of it, because as shocking as it may be to some, people can be respectful grown-ups and not make fun of people for the littlest things, amazing I know. Besides, you were good at hiding it and if they did notice it happening nobody in the team mentioned it. So, it was fine.

Right now, you were all working a case in Texas, it was a tough one, you weren’t getting any breaks and you were all frustrated, also it is so freaking hot. You are sweaty and stressed, not a good combination.

You were staring at the conference board, desperately trying to find a connection between the victims while Spencer was working on a geographical profile. You were doing the whistling thing it wasn’t frequent, but Spencer had counted 5 in the past 2 hours, it wasn’t bothering him, he liked it, it reminded him of your presence there which he found comforting.

You two had been dating for the past year, and boy was it a wonderful year, you both loved each other so much, which was a word you had only recently allowed yourselves to utter to each other, and it felt so good. You never stopped saying those words to each other that night (and moaning them).

That’s 6 Spencer smiled to himself as you whistled again, he was broken out of his peaceful state as you quite loudly and dramatically gasped. “oh my god I found it”.

After that the case was still tough, all cases are but you caught the guys, it turned out to have been partners, one was shot during take down, he didn’t die only injured, you weren’t too torn up about it to be honest he did horrible things to those women and threw you a punch which left you with a bruised eye, prick.

Now you were in the jet doing what you always did on the jet after a case, sharing the couch with Spencer. He was sitting across it with his back to the wall and you were between his legs with your back to his chest. He was holding a book with his left hand and you were holding onto his right absentmindedly playing with his fingers.

Everyone else was asleep apart from Hotch who never seemed to sleep, maybe he’s a vampire you thought, and giggled at the absurdity of it.

You were nearly asleep and totally blissed out, when Spencer piped up quietly. “that was 8, you’ve never done it this many times in this amount of time”, you scrunched up your brows in confusion and tilted your head slightly so you could see his face, “what?”, “whistling, you’ve done it 8 times this case, and that’s more than you normally do”, he stated simply.

Your felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, you hadn’t even realised you just did it never mind so many times. Spencer didn’t seem to notice your reaction and kept going still quietly as to not wake anybody up. “Since I’ve known you, you do it on average once a week, when we don’t have cases or when they are fairly easy ones and about 3 to 4 times on harder cases or when you are very stressed but never this many times”.

This time after he was done he noticed how you were hiding your face in his chest and how the visible part of it was completely red, this saddened him somewhat he never meant to upset you, he knew you didn’t always notice the whistling and that it wasn’t voluntary but he didn’t think it bothered you.

He started playing with your hair because he knew it calmed you and made you feel better when you were upset, “I didn’t mean to upset you bug, I’m sorry”, “its ok I’m not upset just really embarrassed” you replied with your face still in his chest, “you don’t need to be, there’s nothing embarrassing about it,”, you looked up at him and deadpanned at his statement, “yes there is, it’s annoying and weird and “, “and incredibly cute” Spencer interrupted, you just looked at him really confused, “no it isn’t Spencer, you don’t have to lie”, “I’m not lying” he answered immediately “I find it endearing, and cute, and I absolutely love it,” you tried to bury your face in his chest again but he used one hand and placed it on your cheek so you would keep eye contact.

“This is something that makes you special bug, and not something you should be embarrassed or ashamed over, you shouldn’t worry over something like this”. He rubbed your cheek with his thumb and almost as a reflex your eyes closed as you leaned further into his hand. Now with a sheepish tone he added “and as I’ve already mentioned I find it incredibly cute and adorable”, you couldn’t supress your smile at this statement as your cheeks tinted pink.

“Thank you Spence”, he smiled at you and replied “you don’t need to thank me bug” with that he leaned down and kissed your temple and as he pulled back whispered an I love you which you returned without hesitation.

With that you got comfortable oh his chest again and took his hand once again to play with it until you fell asleep, while Spencer didn’t return to his reading instead he played with your hair with his other hand and admired the woman he loved and who he had the privilege to have lie with him.

Boy did he love you, every part of you, even the ones you didn’t appreciate quite as much.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #spencer x reader

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qianinterprises · 4 years ago

Text

Hold Me Together, Break Me Apart

Pairing | Haechan x gn!Reader

Genre | fluff, angst, roommate au, college au

Warning(s) | bad language, cursing, slamming doors, broken door knobs, broken hearts, reader is mean to Jeno (for a kinda reason)

Synopsis | Your roommate is never far from your mind, especially when you need him to hold you together as you break from the stress of college life. But what happens when you break him by accident.

Author’s Notes | Thank you sweet anon for your request! I had so much fun writing this! I really hope you like it! I may also be posting a part 2, I haven't decided yet. What do you guys think?

Work Count | 2.9K

Tagging | @treasurehobi

°:. *₊ . ☆ ° . *₊ ☆ ✮ ° . ☆ *₊ ☆°:. *₊ ° . ☆ ✮　 °:. *₊ °:. *₊ . ☆ ° . *₊ ☆ ✮ ° . ☆ *₊ ☆°:. *₊ °

Exhaustion swept across your shoulders as you shoved your key in the tattered lock of your apartment door, wincing when the gears crunched as you turned the key. When the lock clicked, you moved the key back to its resting place before pulling back on it, attempting to free it from the snug hug of the gears. However, it seemed far too content buried deep in the edges of the lock.

With a groan, you turned the jiggly handle and pushed the door open, immediately being bombarded by the sounds of four yelling boys sitting on your couch with remote controls in hand. You had forgotten your roommate was inviting his friends over.

“Donghyuck,” you called, closing the door and walking deeper into the apartment.

You kicked your shoes off at the door and slung your bag into a chair.

Your roommate didn’t answer for a long moment, but when he did, he was distracted, not even sparing you a glance.

“Yeah?”

“My key got stuck again.”

Three times your key had managed to get stuck in the lock. All three times, Donghyuck had been the one to free it.

The male in question sighed as his fingers sped over the keys of the metallic control in his hand.

“I’ll get it out in a minute,” he said.

With a nod, you made your way to your room, seeking escape from the loud yelling of the boys in the next room.

As soon as the door was shut, you let yourself succumb to the emotions attempting to swallow you up. Your knees hit the floor, face buried in your hands as tears wet your fingers. Your shoulders shook slightly as silent sobs wracked through your body.

University was hard enough without the added stress of working, gnawing at your body and soul, pulling you apart piece by piece until your tender bits were exposed for the world to abuse.

College was meant to be fun. A time for parties and drinking. A time of self discovery while also learning more about whatever subject interested you the most. These days, your life was limited to taking four classes throughout the morning, taking an hour for lunch, before reporting to the restaurant across the street where you worked as a wait staff, taking orders and receiving too few tips to add onto your already poor paycheck.

The restaurant had been the only job hiring at the time, and you desperately needed the money. Your family had been supporting you, but when your younger brother dropped out of high school, they began spending too much money taking care of the son they’d ruined by spoiling. Your father could no longer afford paying your half of the apartment rent and, while Donghyuck hadn’t outright said anything of his displeasure, covering both halves of rent for two months, you knew the boy also didn’t make enough to pay the full cost and still be able to go out with his friends. You couldn’t do that to him. So you’d taken the first job that landed in your lap, and here you were, crying on your bedroom floor at 11pm, pondering the idea of dropping out of college all together and moving back home.

A knock on your door startled you out of your thoughts.

“(Y/N), can I come in?”

You quickly ran your fingers under your eyes, wiping away the dampness the tears had left, hoping your eyes were puffy enough to be noticeable. You pulled yourself up off the floor and grabbed your door handle, twisting it and opening the door.

“Yes?”

“I have your key- hey what’s wrong?”

He presented your key between his thumb and index finger, but as soon as his eyes caught sight of your face, he paused.

You felt tears prick to your eyes, but you fought to hold them back. You hated when people asked you questions like that when you were upset. It made holding back the dam of tears that much more difficult.

“Nothing.”

That should have been the end of it, but your voice cracked, and Donghyuck was stepping into your room, wrapping his arms around your middle, and pulling you against his chest. As your face connected with the soft material covering his shoulders, you felt the dam finally give way, a loud sob leaving your mouth as your own ars wound around him, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt as you bellowed against him.

His arms tightened around you, almost as though he were a bungee strap wrapped tightly around a crumbling box, there to hold it together.

“I’m so tired!” you sobbed, shoulders shaking hard. “I have three papers due by tomorrow night that I haven’t even started because I’ve had to work and when I get home I’m exhausted and I keep pushing it off and now I’m going to fail three classes and-”

You were cut off by his soothing voice, shushing you softly as his hand stroked your back the way he knew you liked.

“It’s going to be ok baby,” he whispered softly.

Your roommate somehow had a weird effect on you. Just by speaking in a certain tone, he could rile you up, make you sleepy, or completely put all your fears and nerves to rest. As you melted against him, allowing him to take the majority of your weight, you didn’t stop to ponder the nickname.

“What classes are your papers due in?” he asked.

His arms around your waist loosened, but neither of you let go.

“Literature with Dr. Wong, Grammar with Dr. Jeon, and History with Dr. Lee.”

“Come with me.”

With that, he pulled away from your hug, leaving you about to whine when he grabbed your hand and pulled you from the room.

“Does anyone have Dr. Lee, Dr. Jeon, or Dr. Wong?” he asked.

“I’ve got Wong,” the tallest of Donghyuck’s friends, you believed his name was Jeno, said.

“Have you finished your paper for his class?”

Jeno nodded.

“Will you come over tomorrow and help (Y/N) write hers?” Donghyuck asked.

“Sure!” Jeno said, giving you a reassuring smile.

“I have Dr. Jeon, but I’m not finished with my paper yet. I asked for an extension though and she gave me until Monday. Maybe ask for one too and then we can work on them together,” Donghyuck’s friend with dyed blue hair offered.

“Thank you,” you said quietly, nodding.

“Thank you Jaemin,” Donghyuck beamed.

“I have Dr. Lee, but you know he doesn’t read our papers right? As long as you have the buzz words he’s looking for, he’ll give you a good grade. I can email you my paper and you can just rewrite a few sentences so it isn’t total plagiarism,” the other, tiny friend answered.

Renjun actually happened to be in your class with Dr. Lee. You didn’t know why you hadn’t realized before.

“Now see! All you have to do is ask for help when you need it,” Donghyuck said, squeezing your hand softly before letting it go.

“Now, I have to get back to beating these losers’ asses, but there’s pizza in the fridge if you're hungry!”

Donghyuck leapt onto the couch, settling himself between Jeno and Renjun, retrieving his controller. Then they all were gone once again, back in their own world of screaming obscenities at one another as they fought whatever the zombie alien things on the screen were.

With a smile, you felt your body relaxed, muscles now not as tense as you as you made your way into the kitchen to retrieve the pizza he had mentioned.

°:. *₊ . ☆ ° . *₊ ☆ ✮ ° . ☆ *₊ ☆°:. *₊ ° . ☆ ✮　 °:. *₊ °:. *₊ . ☆ ° . *₊ ☆ ✮ ° . ☆ *₊ ☆°:. *₊ °

When the next morning rolled around, you were hauling yourself out of bed to attend your morning classes, but today, you didn’t feel horrible, like you wanted to crawl back under the blankets and sleep your life away. Perhaps it was the fact that you had the day off. Or maybe it was because your roommate had somehow taken all your worries and frustrations and made them easier to handle.

Like he always did.

Donghyuck was nothing if not reliable. He was always there when you needed him, whether it was getting your key out of an old lock or gluing you back together as you fell apart in his arms. He was always there to ground you. Maybe he could be annoying sometimes, especially when it was three in the morning and he was crawling in bed with you after having a nightmare, or when he’d beg you to make him hot chocolate every day in the winter because he always scorched the milk when he tried. Lee Donghyuck was the perfect person to share your home with. You just wished you could share the rest of your life with him too.

As your last class ended, you pulled your phone from your bookbag to find a notification to join a group chat from Donghyuck. Raising your eyebrow, you accepted, seconds later directed to a chatroom full of memes and video game references.

FullSun00: Finally she’s joined!

JenoJams: Cut her some slack, she’s been in class!

Jaemberry: She should just text in class like we do!

You: Texting in class prohibits learning!

ArtJun: I like this girl!

FullSun00: (Y/N)!! Meet us in the cafeteria!! We’re sitting in one of the back booths!!

You: Uh… Ok? I’ll be there in five.

Donghyuck was always adamant about keeping you away from his friends group chats despite the amount of times Jeno and Jaemin had tried to convince him to add you. Being invited now was a little odd, but odd didn’t fight the smile on your face as you shoved your notebooks into your bookbag and took off for the cafeteria.

When you got there, the cafeteria was full, as it usually was, but you managed to wind yourself around the heaps of students waiting in lines or moving toward their tables. You walked toward the back of the cafeteria where the most popular seats were, cushioned booths that were alway crowded.You scanned the area looking for Donghyuck, but in the end, it was Jaemin’s blueberry hair that led you to them.

“How did you guys manage to get a booth?” you asked, taking off your backpack.

The booths had long seats large enough to fit three or four people on either side, tables stretching long enough to encompass everyone's plates with plenty of room to spare. It’s part of what made them so popular.

Jeno took your backpack from you, passing it across the table to Jaemin who slid it under the booth where it joined the pile pressed against the wall.

“We got here an hour ago. We tend to spend a few hours here. Easier to eat our fill that way,” Jaemin said.

Renjun snorted.

“Jeno and Jaemin are like human vacuum cleaners. It takes many servings before they’re satisfied,” he laughed.

You shook your head, eyes scanning over the table before realizing that someone was missing.

“Where’s Donghyuck?”

“Miss me already?” your roommate's annoying voice spoke from behind you.

You whirled around to find the man in question standing there juggling two cups of soda and two plates filled with food from the pasta bar, which happened to be the most popular bar and incidentally, your favorite.

“I figured you’d be hungry and I know you love your pasta,” he said.

He moved around you, placing both plates and drinks on opposite sides of the tables before sliding in next to Jeno. It was only then that you realized the second plate was for you.

“Donghyuck… you didn’t have to-”

“Hush and sit,” the male said, looking down at his plate.

If you hadn’t known any better, you would have thought the man was blushing. But this was Donghyuck you were talking about, and Donghyuck didn’t get embarrassed or blush.

You sat yourself down by Renjun and lifted your soda to your lips. As soon as it hit your taste buds, you sighed happily. Donghyuck knew you so well. He knew exactly what you’d want to eat and drink. He was perfect. He’d make the perfect boyfriend…

“Hey (Y/N), after lunch, you want to head back to your place to work on that paper? I’m done for the day,” Jeno asked.

You swallowed the noodles you’d just shoveled into your mouth.

“Sure! I’m done too! And the apartment will be quiet because Hyuck has class!” you shot a teasing smirk in Donghyuck’s direction, earning yourself a glare.

°:. *₊ . ☆ ° . *₊ ☆ ✮ ° . ☆ *₊ ☆°:. *₊ ° . ☆ ✮　 °:. *₊ °:. *₊ . ☆ ° . *₊ ☆ ✮ ° . ☆ *₊ ☆°:. *₊ °

Lunch seemed to fly by and before you knew it, Jaemin was handing you your bookbag as you all grabbed up your plates, ready to relinquish your booth to someone else.

You bid goodbye to Jaemin, Renjun, and Donghyuck, all who were heading to various classes while you and Jeno made your way across the street to your apartment complex.

Stepping inside, your key thankfully didn’t get stuck this time. You tossed your bookbag onto the couch before flopping beside it. You grabbed your laptop off the side table. Jeno took a seat beside you, opening his own laptop.

As soon as the screen to your laptop turned on, you let out a loud yelp as one of your many images of you and Donghyuck together met your eyes, Donghyuck’s sun-kissed face grinning at you through the screen. You typed your password in hastily, but it was too late. Jeno’s face blossomed into a teasing, shit-eating grin that you wanted to slap away.

“So… Donghyuck huh?”

“I don’t know what you're talking about!”

Embarrassment made your stomach churn.

“How long?”

There was no hiding it. Jeno had seen your computer screen. While most university girls had images of baby animals or their favorite band as their lock screens, you had your favorite person to stare back at you.

“Since I moved in…” you mumbled.

His eyes widened.

“And you haven’t told him yet?!” he gaped.

“I haven’t told anyone.”

“You told me!!”

“No, you found out, there’s a big difference,” you corrected.

“Well are you going to tell him?” Jeno asked.

“Of course not! Why would I tell my roommate that I’ve got a big fat crush on him?!” you exclaimed.

“Maybe because he could like you too?”

“Psh, yeah right. Come on, let’s get to work.”

“(Y/N)-”

“No Jeno. I may practically be in love with the man, but why would he ever like me?! He is everything and I’m nothing. He’s the full package with so much to offer some lucky person who steals his heart. I have nothing to offer him but stress and insecurities. So can we please just get to work on this paper and forget about him?!”

You didn’t realize you had tears rolling down your cheeks until Jeno brought his hand up to cup your face, gently running his thumb under your eyes to wipe away the tears softly.

“You’re not nothing. You’re everything,” he whispered.

There was something in his voice. Something that had you drawing closer to him. His eyes flicked down to your lips and back up to your eyes. Your head buzzed with want, blissfully unaware to the emotions of your heart as Jeno’s lips met yours.

His lips were rough, chapped. They pricked yours almost uncomfortably, but they were warm and moist. It had been so long since you’d had such a moment with anyone. So long since you’d last been kissed that perhaps your judgment was impaired as your lips moved against his.

But all too soon, reality was coming to slap you in the ass. This time, in the form of the apartment door opening and Donghyuck stepping through, a gasp leaving his lips as he caught his best friend and the girl he’d fallen in love with locking lips on his couch.

Your lips quickly separated from Jeno’s at the sound of someone intruding. Your eyes became as wide as saucers when you noticed Donghyuck standing in the threshold of your home.

You shot up from the couch, nearly knocking your computer to the floor.

“Hyuck! I can explain! We-”

“Don’t bother.” His tone was so icy it tore right through your heart.

He slammed the door and stormed off to his room. You jumped as his bedroom door slammed shut with a hard wham that made the walls rattle.

“I-... I…”

More tears pooled in your eyes as your hands began to shake.

“No…” you whispered.

Jeno stood up from the couch and made a move to wrap his arms around you, to comfort you, but you lurched away from him.

“No!” you screamed! “Leave me the fuck alone!”

Your breathing was heavy. Anger ripped through your veins. You knew it wasn’t entirely Jeno’s fault, and it wasn’t fair of you to scream at him like it were, but you couldn’t help it. Standing in the wake of a big mistake, you had no other option but to be angry, because how would your roommate ever like you now if he thought you were dating his best friend.

“(Y/N) please-” Jeno began, but you cut him off.

“Was this your plan?! Get me to fall apart so you could put me back together when he walked in?! Do you realize how fucking messed up that is?! I confided in you! I told you how I felt! And you kiss me?! Then he walks in and you try to hug me?! I don’t like you Jeno! Not like I love him! You are not, nor will you ever be, Lee Donghyuck! So just get out!”

You weren’t typically a rude or mean person, but as Jeno looked down before packing up his laptop and scurrying from the room like a puppy with his tail between his legs, you couldn’t help feeling like you’d just lost two great friends.

Maybe today wasn’t a good day after all.

#nct one shot #haechan x reader #ficscafe #lsn.works #nct haechan #haechan x you #haechan x y/n #gender neutral reader #stress #roommate au #college au #broken hearts #nct dream #slight jeno x reader #swearing #hurtful words

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alternateafterthought · 4 years ago

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Arcane - Part 11

Ø Meaning: Secret, Mysterious, Understood only by few. MAGIC

Ø Pairing: Panther Hybrid Min Yoongi x Reader

Ø Summary: Some secrets are kept for the good of people. Some secrets are kept for abuse or power. Yoongi had been a victim of abuse and power, and he wasn’t going to let anyone else use secrets for that purpose. So, when Y/N comes into his life with secrets, he doesn’t want to fall into that rabbit hole again. He doesn’t want to give all his trust to someone who will abuse their power over him. But maybe Y/N’s secrets are a good thing.

Ø Genre: Hybrid!au, fluff, angst, eventual smut

Ø Warnings: I know in the last part I warned that it was more intense this part but I somehow left that out and wrote it in a way that it isn’t bad, Of course dealing with this subject there is a small trigger warning... What the character did is not right, and no one should ever have to be put through something like this!! Stay safe out there!

Ø Word Count: 1625

Ø A/N: Hey guys… here is the next part of my Min Yoongi fic!! I am back with another part of Arcane!! It has been so long since I posted anything or written anything so I really hope you all like this part and understand that sometimes I just don’t have inspiration to keep writing!! So, I really hope you guys love and support this fic like you did with GOLDEN TIME!! If you want to be added to a tag list, message me or leave a comment or ask!! I would love and appreciate your feedback!! Thank you so much

PREV / NEXT

Y/N couldn’t concentrate.

She wouldn’t lie to anyone and say that she was interested in the paperwork in front of her. In actuality, she couldn’t tell anyone who asked what it was she was supposed to be concentrating on. Her mind was completely preoccupied with the events of her tragic and questionable weekend.

Monday mornings were always hard, coming off a good weekend. Try a Monday morning coming off a horrible weekend. It was currently 11:02 on Thursday after the horrible weekend and no amount of coffee, even the 8 cups Y/N had been through since 5am when she woke up, or distractions would take her mind off of her Hybrid at home.

Said hybrid had been hiding, completely avoiding the outside world, more importantly avoiding Y/N, for days now. Saturday, Sunday, Monday, all the way until today being Thursday and Yoongi still hadn’t come out of hiding.

Every morning Y/N would knock three times on Yoongi’s door, letting him know she was there. She’d leave him a tray of food outside his door before leaving for work, texting him routinely through the day at 11am, 1pm, 4pm just before she would return home to what was pretty much an empty house. It was always so cold, all the lights were always off, no heat, no Yoongi at the door to greet her home.

Every afternoon Y/N would hang her coat and bag, walk to the hall, and see that the tray off food she’d left in the morning had been completely untouched. It was concerning, Y/N didn’t know if Yoongi was eating or not, and from the looks of the cold, untouched food, it didn’t look like he was.

After taking the food back to the kitchen and throwing it out, Y/N would start to fix dinner for the both of them. Leaving a tray at Yoongi’s door before going back and sitting by herself at the table, hoping that maybe Yoongi would join her.

He never did.

And she could blame no one except herself.

Y/N was supposed to help him, protect him. She had promised that no harm would ever come to him. And yet, she was the reason that he completely hid from her, from the world.

She could see it as if it were happening in the moment. Pushing open the door, seeing Yoongi laying on the bed, arms up, eyes wide, begging for help. She could see Hye-Jin looking annoyed as Y/N stood in the door, straddling Yoongi’s waist.

Y/N would never forget the panic that flashed through Yoongi’s eyes, even as Y/N acted. Y/N didn’t waste any time in pulling Hye-Jin off of Yoongi, not saying anything as she threw the girl out of her house, slamming the door in her surprised face as she raced back to Yoongi’s room. She wanted to check on him, make sure he was okay, reach out to him.

But when she finally got back to his door, it was shut, closed off from the world.

Y/N was pulled out of her constant worrying by the ringing of her phone. Shaking her head, she looked at the caller ID, not recognizing the number.

“Hello?” Y/N spoke into her phone, thanking the fact that her office door was closed.

“Hello? Miss Y/N?” A familiar voice asked, though Y/N couldn’t place it.

“This is her? May I ask who this is?”

“Miss Y/N, it’s Jung Hoseok, from HOPE Sanctuary.” The voice cheerfully answered.

“Oh, J-Hope, right?” Y/N smiled widely at the memory of the man who helped her to adopt the hybrid currently hiding from her

“Yes. How are you? How’s Yoongi?”

The question was a dangerous one. How could Y/N explain to the man that had entrusted one of his friends to her, that she had completely and totally fucked up? She didn’t like the thought of lying to him, didn’t like the position she was already in, but how could she tell him what had happened? How could she tell him she was probably the worst thing that could happen to Yoongi?

“Y/N? Are you still there?” J-Hope asked.

“Oh yes, I’m still here.” Y/N forced a laughed. “Sorry just a lot on my mind with work. But I’m good, Yoongi is good.”

“Well that’s good to hear.”

Y/N could hear movement in the back of the phone call, J-hope wasn’t alone, and she could guess just how many were there. 5 hybrids missing their panther and a human who was so much better equip to this job then she was.

“Hyung, ask her…” Y/N heard a small, muffled voice.

“It would seem I have some impatient hybrids with me.” J-Hope’s cheerful voice came through with a laugh. “But they were wondering if that offer still stood? If they were able to come and visit their Yoongi Hyung?”

“Hey, I’m his Hyung!” Y/N heard a protest coming from behind J-Hope.

“Of course, you can.” Y/N heard herself saying without missing a beat. “I’m sure Yoongi would love a visit from you all.”

“Really?” Someone else spoke, seeming to have taken the phone off J-Hope. “We can come visit?”

“Of course, you can visit.” Y/N really just couldn’t stop herself, anything that will ease Yoongi would be welcomed. “I know Yoongi has been thinking about you guys. I was actually going to offer Yoongi if he would like a trip back to the city to see you all.”

“Oh perfect. It seems I have good timing.” J-Hope’s voice was a little distant from the phone, meaning the phone was on speaker now. “When would be the best time for us to come down?”

“You can come down any time you’re ready to.” Y/N moved around some paperwork, looking for her journal.

“We could fly in tomorrow afternoon?” J-Hope proposed, she could feel the nerves of them all.

“Perfect.” Y/N wrote a little note into her journal, noting they would be here. “I’ll clear out the other rooms for you all tonight. Will you be coming with them J-hope?”

“If it’s not too much trouble? I would like to be with them?”

“Of course.” Y/N hoped she could talk to Yoongi tonight. “I’ll make sure to have lots of food ready for you all. I know Yoongi will be happy.”

A cheer rang through the phone, letting Y/N know they were excited for the chance of a trip. She would just hope that Yoongi would be excited to see his brothers after nearly 2 months.

“We should let you get back to work now Y/N.” J-Hope seemed to have finally taken the phone back, placing it to his ear. “I’ll text you the details of a flight, so you know when to expect us.”

“Sounds good.” Y/N smiled, nodding. “I’ll see you all soon.”

“See you tomorrow, Y/N.”

Finally hanging up, Y/N let out a deep sigh, her head in her hands on the desk in front of her. She didn’t know what to do, she had a problem to solve at home with Yoongi and now his brothers were coming to see him. Finally sitting back up she pushed her hair out of her face, picking up her phone and ringing the familiar number, only for it to ring out.

Said hybrid sat in his room, staring at his phone as Y/N’s name lit up the screen in his pitch-black darkness. It’s not like the darkness actually affected him anyway, but still it was dark. Dark enough that he knew if Y/N was home and had walked through his door, like the many times he’s hoped she would in the past week, she’d have tripped.

Yoongi would never straight up admit it, but he seriously missed Y/N. He knew it was his own doing, hiding himself away from her after what someone else did. But he couldn’t help but feel betrayed that she had let someone like that into his territory.

She had to know. Yoongi couldn’t help but think that Y/N had to know that he wanted to do nothing but protect his territory, and that meant her as well. He just wanted to protect the woman who gave him a change, but she was the one bringing dangers into his territory.

He couldn’t exactly forget it, what that girl felt like pressed against him. Yoongi could never really forget the pure look of lust in her eyes as he tried to get away from her. She had stalk him as if he were the prey and she were the predator, she had used his past against him, and it had won.

He would truly never be able to forgive himself for falling, failing to stop himself from feeling sorry for himself. He already knew that hiding and curling in on himself was wrong, and yet here he was, lying in the dark, staring at a black screen, hoping, praying for Y/N to reach out to him.

They were truly words that would haunt him, words that were whispered into his ear. Words that he had buried deep within his mind and now…

“Your just a pet… this is what your made for.”

“She’ll never please you the way I will.”

“Come on, this is what we got you for.”

“She’ll never love you.”

Again, and again. It was like a broken record playing for his downfall.

Hye-Jin’s words weren’t the first to tell him that, they were a constant in the last few homes he had been in. He just never thought they’d be words he heard while here with Y/N.

Now he just stared at the screen as it lit up again with Y/N’s name. He couldn’t bring himself to answer it, couldn’t bring himself to hear the broken words leave her mouth as he tried to call for him.

PREV / NEXT

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fallout-lou-begas · 5 years ago

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Regarding @yesjejunus:

(mentions of rape, abuse, and trauma herein)

I have never made an effort to hide it on my blog before, but I want to make it clear that yesjejunus is my friend and I care about them. If you ask me, it should be extremely transparent to all onlookers that the attack against them this week is motivated by more of a personal grudge and obsessive vendetta than any actual concern for the "well-being" of anyone "endangered" by them, evidenced further by the poaching of personal information gleaned from defunct social media profiles for no actionable reason other than intimidation, the willfully outlandish misinterpretations of inside jokes between friends, and the mutilation of the definition of "grooming" and the excessive outright fabrications required to distort their friendship with some adults who happen to be younger than themself into allegations of predation on minors. Yejejunus has not ever actually done anything remotely justifying this punitive severity to any other human being, and if you have your own grievances about their art, then no one is holding, and no one has ever held, a gun to your head to force you to like them, or like their art or seek it out. The sheer volume of harassment that they have received for scarcely more than fanfiction and fanart that people can avoid on their own terms through proper tag filtering or blocking is frankly unjustifiable.

If you are upset by a work of art that you encounter in fandom or otherwise then it is not an interpersonal conflict between you and the artist. The artist has not harmed you, the artist doesn't even know you. Artists may have a responsibility to utilize tags and warnings appropriately on broad or big-tent platforms, and yesjejunus fulfilled this responsibility thoroughly, but ultimately an individual is responsible for their own artistic consumption and for avoiding the art that they want to avoid themself. If there is something that you are entirely incapable of seeing even a hint of without lapsing into some kind of retraumatization, and an artist tags art containing this thing appropriately, then the onus is on you to have it filtered out and the failure is on you if you have not. Assuming that every individual artist must be held "accountable" for whether their art could possibly upset someone or not, and assuming that any given individual is helplessly incapable of avoiding art that makes them upset, is a destructive perspective that flattens the ability of artists to create that which means a lot to them personally, lest their own experiences discomfort some hypothetical audience, and regardless of whether it may provide catharsis or revelation for another.

Additionally, to assume that any and all depiction of abuse of any kind is inherently an endorsement, or a "glamorization" or "fetishization," is to forget that discomfort can often be the point of a work of art, as it is in the case of horror. To be abused, or even to simply exist in an unhealthy relationship, is also to often endure complex, contradictory feelings in which hate and love and fear and dependence and violence and affection and misery and happiness exist hand-in-hand and even simultaneously. To treat portrayals of these kinds of relationships that embrace this uncomfortable nuance as "glorifying" them simply because it's not monochrome in a black-and-white morality play is both naive and insensitive. I also find the coercion of artists into disclosing their various traumas in order to "justify" their creation of their art, as if their trauma must be approved as sufficient by a committee, reprehensible; however I also do not believe that someone must inherently possess some form of trauma to depict it in art compassionately and meaningfully.

I also think that the mammoth amount of cognitive dissonance required to make this the hill that one dies on when the subject at hand is fanfiction and fanart of an 18+, rated-M video game series in which horrible and traumatic scenarios such as rape, slavery, domestic abuse, mass death, and graphic violence are depicted in abundance, and in certain ways with even less sensitivity or tact than the fanwork, shouldn't be lost on anyone, especially since you are far less able to excise these aspects from the source material than you are able to curate your participation in a fandom.

I want to reiterate that your opinions on yesjejunus, or me, or any user on tumblr or any artist on the planet are yours and yours alone to have. Who you follow, who you unfollow, who you block, and who you filter is purely your prerogative and you are encouraged to use any and all choices, tools, and mechanics at your disposal to avoid anyone that you wish, especially if it's for your own well-being. I wish that more people would utilize these options instead of cultivating a climate of fear and paranoia regarding who one “associates” with, and I do despise the term “associates” because it both reads far too much into a random reblog or reply, and reads far too little into a genuine friendship of mutual trust and care. Still, I am severely disappointed that I have to explain that the line is drawn at hounding an artist obsessively for years with flagrant disregard for their own trauma, blaming that artist for one's own complete failure to stop seeking out that which upsets them personally, and talking over or distorting the experiences and trauma of other people to suit one's own vindictive narrative, and this line has been crossed far, far beyond where it lays.

If you're offended or upset by this post then I beseech you to at the very least follow my advice in the previous paragraph and see yourself out, and may we only ever interact again at your deliberate discretion. If you refuse to do that and would rather call for my public quartering while using literally none of the myriad options at your disposal to remove me from your online experience at no charge, then go fuck yourself, and you may dislike my opinions but you can't un-laugh at my excellent shitposts.

Ed.: I would like to reblog this one more time add an addendum in order to bring attention to an update from yesjejunus themself about their side of the situation this week. They explain why they create the art that they do, as a method of coping with and processing their own trauma. It’s okay if you could not possibly imagine yourself coping with your own trauma, should you have it, in the same way. To label the creation of such art for such purposes as something inherently impermissible or ineffective is not only gravely insensitive but factually indefensible, and I must reiterate my own point that if how they do control their own trauma upsets or risks (re)traumatizing you, then why not ensure that you never see it by using the free and comprehensive blocking and filtering options available to you on this website instead of death marching someone who’s already deeply victimized? The word again is control. To control these traumas through fiction and art is an incredibly empowering, restorative thing, and to label this practice as nothing but harmful to others is to ignore the complex and multifacted ways in which trauma takes shape, or can be shaped.

#yesjejunus #discourse

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handonhaven · 4 years ago

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So I just saw this post that made me mad but also made me laugh all at once. The post pretty much said that Handon is the most hated ship in the fandom and that even actress Danielle Rose Russel hates Handon and called them dragged out. That Handon only purpose was the bring Hope out of shell. And that Handon is a mother son relationship. It just goes on like that(and you can tell a H*ise made that post). It just made me laugh because 1 Danielle never said she hates Handon, I think she's one of the biggest handon shippers I've seen. I've seen so many people say at the beginning she was, but she still is now. 2 she never called Handon dragged. People are really still twisting around that interview she did back in March. When she talked about Handon she said she was really excited about where Handon is going. And that part where she said "dragged out to get to this point" she wasn't talking about handon(it was a while after she stopped talking about handon when she said that) and even though she didn't state what she meant by that she could have been talking about anything, the malilandon plot, Hope finally putting herself first. But I guess antis decided to forget about the part where she said she was really excited about where Handon is going. And when they heard dragged out just decided that Danielle was talking about Handon even though she wasn't.

Also that part about the only purpose for Handon was to bring Hope out of shell is just not a very good argument or even true. Because if that was the case handon would have been over after s1, they wouldn't have kept them together. Even Brett said in an interview back in June that Landon is one of the, if not the most important person in Hopes life. Whenever I see people say stuff like that I'm truly convinced that they're watching a completely different show.

And let's be honest the only mother/child relationship on the show is between Hope and that school. They go to her with every little problem they have. They expect her to put the school and them over herself all the time(just like a mother would for their child). And then when she does put herself first for once they act like she's betrayed them.

P.s sorry to vent/rant like this. It's just whenever I see stuff like that I get a little upset. And not because they took the time to twist around and make up stuff. It's that they tag Handon in it, so we can see it, probably thinking it's some type of win for them(kind of like how they think the new staff writer is gonna give them a win, but that's a whole other thing that I don't want to get into right now). I can get not liking a ship and wanting your ship to happen and I know ship wars are a thing no matter fandom your on. But can they just stay off our tags. Because it honestly feels like they're more obsessed with Handon than we are.

I’m not even surprised, sounds like the same old stuff. Yeah, Danielle has never expressed that she hates Handon, quite the opposite. Ikr, she still likes Handon, why else would she have suggested Hope sing a love song to Landon if she only liked Handon in the beginning? If she hates Handon so much now, why did she say in that March interview how excited she was about Handon this last season and how big a part Landon has played in Hope’s character arc and how much she’s enjoyed playing how that has impacted Hope? In a season where Hope’s love for Landon was solidified more than ever, and she fought for him all season long? Do they honestly think that if she hated Handon that she would’ve been acting that happy and excited in that interview, and voluntarily bringing up Handon throughout the interview without being asked?

And yes, she never said Handon’s relationship in general was dragged out. They really do twist everything and completely ignore the last part of her sentence where she said she thought “it was a bit dragged out to get to this point.” And now that we know there was no Handon breakup, we know she didn’t mean she thought it was dragged out to get to the point of them breaking up, so why are people still holding onto that? And she actually was talking about Handon when she said that, I went back to rewatch that bit to make sure and she was responding to a question about Handon. But I don’t see that as anything negative about Handon at all, because if Danielle thought things were dragged out to get to this point for Handon’s relationship, what point did Handon get to? Yes, they’ve been in a horrible situation all this time and have been apart when they haven’t wanted to be, and they have a lot more crap to deal with, but Hope’s love for Landon is as strong as ever and she’s determined to fight fate to be with him. So how does this help the antis? But like you said, Danielle didn’t say what exactly she meant. She said it was a “long time coming between the characters,” so she could’ve been referring to Malilandon, or Hope and Landon coming to terms with their fate and fighting that, or yeah, she could’ve meant Hope putting herself first and fighting for her happiness with Landon when she struggled with that in the first two seasons. Which was dragged out imo, it took a while for Hope to get this point where she believes that she and Landon can be together and be happy, and that they don’t have to be doomed. And it’s taken a while to get the point where they’re really facing Malivore as well, so Danielle could’ve been referring to any of these things. But however I look at it, I don’t see how it means anything bad about Handon when you consider the context of how she said “dragged out” as well as what happened with Handon this last season. But yep, people will pick and choose what they want to hear and what they want it to mean, while ignoring all the positive things Danielle said about Handon.

And yeah, if people think the purpose of Handon was only to get Hope “out of her shell”, they’re really just not watching the show. Hope and Landon’s relationship has done so much more than that, it’s helped both Hope and Landon grow and develop as characters in so many ways. And if I went into all of those ways, this post would become even longer, I could write a whole other post about it. But it’s crazy how people totally miss so much of what goes on in the show. And true, Handon wouldn’t have lasted if that was their only purpose, and Brett certainly wouldn’t have said that about them either.

My gosh, not the “mother/son” thing... yeah, when it comes to Hope protecting others like a mother would, yes to all you said, you’re right. Once again, people pay no attention to the fact that Hope protects and saves everyone at the school all the time and how dependent they are on her, how they expect her to do everything for them. Meanwhile, Landon actually tries, he doesn’t expect Hope to do everything on her own and doesn’t want her to either. He has continuously done whatever he can to help Hope and is always trying to be better. Hope and Landon are a team, and that has been stated on the show, Hope literally called them a power couple. Yet those people really keep comparing their relationship, a romantic relationship, to a mother/son relationship? I can’t...

And I get that, it’s definitely so annoying how they’ll tag Handon in their stuff, it can make it almost impossible to avoid hate sometimes. Yeah, it seems they do just wanna take what they think is a win and rub it in Handon fans’ faces. Exactly, the least they could do is stay out of the tags. It makes it so obvious what they’re trying to do when they don’t. Haha yeah, it really does seem like they’re more obsessed with Handon than Handon fans sometimes with the amount of time they spend hating on them. It’s pretty sad.

#answered #handon #danielle rose russell

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michibikionmain · 4 years ago

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This isn’t THE tommyinnit villain essay but it sure is one of them

Ok ok so 4 those of u who aren't on discord with me: i have two main essays that have been in the works for MONTHS, these being my Complete Dream character analysis essay going in-depth for nearly all of his canon interactions and finding his character traits and motivations through the story, and my Tommyinnit (and Wilbur Soot) were Always The Villains on the server essay talking about how the only reason so many people view them as the good guys or heroes is because we see the story from their perspective mainly. This essay? Is not either of those. BUT, it does go through a lot of my thoughts on Tommy and Dream’s characters so I figured I’d post it. maybe itll help me organize my thoughts 4 my Mega Projects lol

@ranboocore bc u helped me pop off on this so hard LMAO

Warning, it’s VERY Tommy Critical, what a suprise. I do not like Tommy as a character lol. idk what triggers yall might need me to tag but if u need one in particular pls lmn!

My biggest issue with tommy's character is that he SAYS hes learned but he never does he is exactly the same person he was at the start of the server just More Sad and with Trauma, when out of all the characters he's had the most push to change. c!Tommy is a very tell-don't-show character which can make it hard for some people to connect to him, especially those who don’t directly share his trauma or see themselves in his character. Of course, there is still a MASSIVE amount of people who relate to his struggles and thus love him regardless of his writing, but those who can't relate to him will always feel some kind of barrier until the things they've talked about are actually shown to the viewer instead of being spoon-fed to them.

It is a very beginner writing thing, and I'm hoping that Tommy is figuring out how to fix this, maybe with support from the many other writers on the server. There's the 3 you mentioned, plus fundy, niki, and maybe tubbo who also play dnd, plus Dream who said he would've been an English major and does a lot of personal writing for fun. I think the biggest issue in the writing lies in the individual ccs being inexperienced in the medium, particularly with planning out their own character growth.

Another glaring issue I have with c!Tommy is how he's framed to be sympathetic and he goes through all these horrible things without acknowledging his role in any of them. The things that have happened to him are a direct result of his actions, but the thing is HE won't acknowledge and so it falls flat. This isn’t to say that being abused is his fault, because it’s NEVER the vicitm’s fault, but being exiled? His multiple fights with c!Dream? His friendships falling apart? Losing the disks in the first place? They’re the direct consequences of HIS OWN actions, but he never acknowledges this and constantly just... brushes off any accountability by either saying that it’s Dream fault or simply SAYING he feels bad without properly showing it through redemption and GROWTH.

Denial is useful in storytelling sometimes, but Tommy's character has been in denial since the very beginning of the server and at this point it's just exhausting. He only ever switches between denial and depression, not really going through all 5 stages of grief properly. His violent/upset reactions would be more powerful if they were any different from how tommy usually acts, but this is always how he is. When he “lashes out” because he’s reached the end of his patience, it doesn’t SEEM like the snap it is because that’s just... it’s seriously just his standard reaction to everything. It hold no WEIGHT to see c!Tommy yell at someone violently or threaten to fight them because he does that anyways!

Static characters can be a good thing, and can be interesting if done correctly, but not every character SHOULD or CAN be static in a story.

Static characters need to have their position or behavior challenged and question, where they look into if the way they see and interact with the world is really the 'correct' one or just evaluated to see if they truly believe in them. This questioning period is CRUCIAL! and NEEDS to be well done in a way that ACTIVELY SHOWS the conflict between the two ideals. If they decide to hold onto their beliefs/continue their behavior then, it feels deserved, because rather than just being a flat "they do thing its who they are" they have defined WHY. WHY is a very important question to think of when telling the difference between dynamic and static characters. The why of a character is ESSENTIAL to developing them as a relatable, sympathetic person rather than a flat story telling device. It makes them a human rather than a puppet. When a character's motives aren't well defined or discussed, they're doomed to fall flat in everything else, because the WHY is the foundation of what makes them who they are.

c!Tommy has an underdeveloped "why", his motivations are weak, rarely properly discussed and when they are it doesn't particularly stick with him. His motivations change without showing us the internal struggle that should come from literally shifting your driving principles. There are some good MOMENTS of him reevaluating the importance of certain things, but they're so spread out and contradictory and immediately spat one that they're hard to piece together. He TELLS us what his motivations are as well, which is another big flaw when it comes to all that but we don't have time to unpack all THAT Anyways, the key to static story telling is reaffirmation. The character goes through a complete journey and ends with the same beliefs because they've looked into why they have them and determined that they still matter to them. A great example of static writing in my eyes is c!Techno, who since the beginning has believed that governments are bad. c!Techno enters the server to destroy a government, and still ends up doing that because he sees and we see him experience that the reasons he didn't like government before still hold true and he has no reason to support them any more than before, and so his anarchist beliefs are REAFFIRMED, proving to him that they way he handles things is the right one for him.

c!Tommy’s attachments are all just... they're all so weird. like he LITERALLY SACRIFICES HIS LIFE MULTIPLE TIMES for L'manburg. By action of sacrifice it seems like it should be the most important thing to him, but then he throws it away for some disks that mattered less to him just a minute ago. But then it's all about how c!Tubbo is worth more than Anything and maybe he's found something more important! but then he shoves THAT out the window for the discs again ig!!! but then it's about l’manburg again? Make it make sense.... pls....

Here's smth that really irks me about Tommy's character, and is kind of weird but give me a second to explain: Tommy has never actually permanently lost much of anything on the server. Every punishment he's ever received he's tried to find some way around. And like... I'm not expecting him to be HAPPY to face the consequences of his actions but seeing him constantly have his cake and eat it too is very irritating, especially when there are characters who DO have to deal with actual permanent sacrifices. The whole thing with the disks. where he WILLINGLY OFFERED THEM UP AND GAVE THEM AWAY THEN SPENT FOREVER TRYING TO STEAL THEM BACK WHILE CLAIMING DREAM STOLE THEM FROM HIM, is the biggest example of this, but it's generally his characters way of dealing with things. He's very backhanded and conniving, constantly calling himself "big man" except for when he wants things from people and he plays up the "iM a MiNoR" card to try and get them to give him things or feel bad. He's not just some sweet innocent kid like people paint him, he knows damn well he's messed up and while he SAYS he feels bad about it, he has never once really shown, with his ACTIONS, regret for what he's done except for the stuff with c!Sapnap, which could it could be argued he did because he thought it would help get c!Sapnap on his side to fight Dream and he knew c!Sapnap was a skilled warrior and could possibly be persuaded to fight with dream.

c!Tommy is in NO way some sweet innocent child, he knows what he's doing. He KNEW l'manburg was a drug empire, and wanted to turn his hotel into the same He was FULLY prepared to just murder c!Schlatt for legally winning an election that he KNEW was rigged AND INTENDED TO HELP RIG HE LITERALLY TEAMED UP WITH c!TECHNOBLADE KNOWING THAT HE INTENDED TO BLOW UP L'MANBURG AND ONLY LEFT WHEN HE REALIZED IT WASN'T GOING TO ACTUALLY HELP HIM--

The line of c!Wilbur saying "Tommy, are we the bad guys?" wasn't him mentally going batshit it was him realizing that the entire time they've been doing terrible things. c!Wilbur was literally ALWAYS Vilbur but the time people CALL Vilbur is when c!Will himself realized he was a villain.

#like. VERY critical #i do not like the child can you tell?#im sorry tommy fans but i am not one of you #and before you ask: Yes I have and do watch his perspective of the SMP just so i can try to understand his thought process #dream smp #dsmp #dream smp analysis #dsmp analysis #critical analysis #prince/pea and i pop off about this so much LOL #this is the first of MANY essays/collective analysis bits ive written about Tommy #lets see how many ill have by the time i finish going through the discord #tommyinnitcritical #discourse #ig. i saw a lot of ppl asking 4 this tag on similar posts so i thought id add it?

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panharmonium · 4 years ago

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@dreamersscape please forgive me for tagging you in a post to respond to your comments; tumblr’s reply feature is hard to have an extended/coherent conversation on, and I’m so excited to talk to a kindred Naruto spirit that I knew I was gonna write too much for it all to fit in that space XD

re: hinata - Oh my gosh, YES, my sister and I were so frustrated by how they just completely never addressed that moment again. I wasn't surprised, because it's been clear from the beginning that this show doesn't really care much about women, so the female characters' storylines getting dropped or never explored in the first place is pretty much what I've always expected, but it's still infuriating.

Honestly, the only good thing about this show's general disinterest in women is that it means that I don't place any blame on in-story Naruto for never addressing what Hinata did for him, because I know the fact that we don't see him dealing with her confession isn't actually intended to communicate anything about his reaction/non-reaction/level of investment; it's literally just a function of the fact that the writer doesn't care about her story. It's the same way I feel about how we see so much less one-on-one time between Kakashi and Sakura - her lack of screentime with him isn't something about which a person can credibly argue "Oh, this means Kakashi doesn't care about her enough and he's a bad teacher etc etc," because the imbalance isn’t a deliberate writing decision we're supposed to analyze for characterization. It's a reflection of the fact that the entire show is super sexist. XD

re: danzo: It’s one thing to have your villain believe himself to the hero of his own story, and like, another to have Danzo basically tout having darkness in your heart being a great thing and encouraging it’s presence/cultivating it - lmao YES! And honestly, this is why I actually find Danzo LESS infuriating than the Third Hokage. Like, Danzo is Super Evil and every time he exploits another child I want to watch him die all over again, but at least he like....owns his horribleness? Whereas Hiruzen is the biggest hypocrite on the planet - when I rewatched the Shonen Jump stuff a while back (my sister and I took a little break prior to Season 11 and rewatched some old stuff), I couldn't stand listening to Hiruzen go on and on about how the entire Leaf Village is his family and it's his role to protect all of them etc etc, because like - he literally covered up the genocide of Sasuke's entire family and let the perpetrator remain in power (and that was before I even knew about all these other crimes he allowed to go unpunished!!!) Danzo may be the Worst, but at least he's not pretending to be anything other than what he is. Hiruzen is still acting like he's everybody's sweet old grandpa, and that makes me even more angry than Danzo's straight-up horribleness. (And I do agree with you, they definitely lean harder into the "Lord Third is amazing" stuff pre-Shippuden, I just still feel confused about what the show is ultimately trying to say about him because we haven't gotten an explicit enough condemnation of his choices yet, and I feel like it's way overdue XD )

re: minato - Hard agree that Minato is an enigma. I don't feel like I fully understand him either - and not in a bad way, just in the sense that he's hard to read. The toughest thing for me to parse was always how distant he seemed with his students, which was surprising to me at first, because he'd been built up as sort of this "ideal shinobi" figure for such a long time, but to me, an ideal shinobi teacher looks more like...well, Kakashi, to be honest. And it took a while for me to reconcile with the fact that Minato and Kakashi really do just relate to their students very differently. I think Minato has always been a soldier, and I think he sees children as soldiers, too - not in an evil way at all, just in the sense that this is how the shinobi world works, and how it has always worked. It's not a "wrong" way to perceive shinobi kids, in the context of the story's universe. And so when things happen to those kids, he absolutely cares, but it's also sort of just a grim fact of life for him. It's like when Kushina tells him she doesn't want to make Naruto a jinchuriki, and she asks 'why do we have to do that to him, why does he have to suffer that way for the sake of the balance of power between nations,' and Minato's response is “Because our family is Shinobi.” That was a really telling moment for me in terms of how he sees the world. It's not something I'm interested in condemning him for, like you said; I don't think the story is ever asking us to do that, it’s just a philosophy that's very different from how Kakashi sees things and what he thinks children's experiences should be like.

I guess what I ultimately think (from the material we’ve seen so far, at least) is that Minato seems to perceive the loss of his students as something that Kakashi is struggling with, not something he himself is agonizing over. It’s a very sad thing that happened, of course, but it’s just part of the way their world works/a function of the times they live in. It's not something Minato is tormenting himself about. Whereas I think that if Kakashi ever lost a kid, it would have killed him. And I don't think this fact is in any way supposed to paint Minato as a bad person. He's not! All it means is that there is a generational difference between the world Kakashi and Co. are trying to create and the world Minato always knew, and people like Minato are doing the best they can with the framework they have.

I do like the guy a lot - and I wonder what he might have been like if he had lived to see a permanent peace established.

re: little Yamato - oh boy, those episodes nearly ended me. I am already very, very, VERY weak for Kakashi and Yamato’s friendship, and seeing Kakashi rescue Yamato from that horrible place (literally and metaphorically) was too much for me to handle. Kakashi’s silhouette replacing Danzo in Yamato’s memories of being rescued from Orochimaru’s lab - that slew me. And the way Danzo tells Yamato “you have no past, no future, no name” juxtaposed with Kakashi introducing Yamato as Tenzo because he remembers from three years ago how Yamato once rebelled at being called Kinoe and yelled “MY NAME IS TENZO” - Kakashi just using that chosen name without hesitation, without question, without needing to be told...it all ties back into the recent thematic throughline the show is working with about Identity - the importance of the Tailed Beasts having names, Kabuto’s desperate and misguided search for “who and what he is,” Itachi reclaiming his true self by undoing the reanimation justu and declaring “I am Itachi Uchiha of the Leaf Village,” Obito claiming that his real name doesn’t matter anymore, that he’s Nobody...it’s fantastic how they’re pulling all this together.

re: Kakashi and little Naruto - oh man, the feelings. I agree with you that Kakashi was in no place to be dealing with this, but certainly under different circumstances I think he would have loved to be a part of baby Naruto’s life. I actually think the reasoning behind “let’s put Kakashi in a situation where he’s in close contact with someone bringing new life into the world” is sound - I think that would be a really good thing for him! Just not in the sense of “you’re Kushina’s personal bodyguard, so if anything happens to her and the baby you can blame yourself for it.” XD Like...Minato could have invited Kakashi in for dinner sometimes, instead of having him constantly stand guard under their window??? If it had been more “we care about you and we want you to be a part of our family”....ugh, that would have been amazing. Kakashi is already SO good with Naruto (who is NOT by any means an easy kid to manage) - he just has such good instincts about how to talk to that kid and teach him in ways that work WITH Naruto’s particular brand of high motivation/low frustration tolerance, ping-pong emotional extremes, explosive energy levels, zero impulse control, and an inability to process more than one thing at a time. Handling Naruto effectively would be a challenging project for any teacher, never mind taking care of Naruto and two other kids, but Kakashi is a natural at it. It would have been awesome to see what Kakashi was like with Naruto when they were even younger...though the Feels might knocked me out.

[also, you mentioned Naruto and Obito - I cannot even tell you the Extremest Agonies I was in when the big reveal happened and I had to hear Naruto blankly go “who is he” - utterly clueless, without the faintest idea that he’s looking at the person who shaped his entire moral philosophy. The amount of things that these kids don’t know...that fact that Naruto has been quoting this very person all his life and making all his major life decisions based on the lesson Kakashi relayed to them on Day One - Obito’s words - oh boy oh boy I was not capable of handling that even the littlest bit.]

#*high fives your brain right back*#feel free to gush about this show anytime - i am right there with ya! :D #replies #naruto #pan watches naruto

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spnfanficpond · 5 years ago

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June 2020 Angel Fish Awards

(New Angel Fish design by @slytherkins!!)

Every month all of you fantastic writers work your asses off to post some truly incredible stories. Our Angel Fish Awards are the way for all of us, as a community of writers and readers, to lift each other up and give praise to those who have captured our attention and deserve a few kind words.

The monthly Angel Fish Awards are peer-nominated, meaning ANYONE IN THE POND CAN NOMINATE ANY POND MEMBER’S FIC. While the Pond was founded to support the Guppies, everyone in this community deserves to be showered with love and feedback, and we hope that by opening this up as a Pond wide system, we’ll be able to share the love as far as it can go.

NOTE: WE’VE BEEN HAVING OCCASIONAL PROBLEMS WITH ASKS GOING MISSING. Please use the Submit button when submitting your nominations and make sure you’re signed into Tumblr or your URL won’t show. (If the form asks for your name and email address, then you’re not signed in.) If you like, you can also send a message to Michelle @mrswhozeewhatsis or Mana @manawhaat to check and make sure we got your submission.

Be sure to read through this whole post as people who were nominated more than once only had one tag activated for tumblr tagging purposes!

WITHOUT FURTHER ADO, HERE ARE JUNE’S ANGEL FISH AWARDS!

Nonimated by @thegirlwhorunswithwinchesters

I Thought You Were Going To Die (oneshot) by @fun-and-fandoms

My nominations for the month wouldn’t be complete without a little bit of angst. Though this one isn’t just that. If you’re easily triggered by mentions of depression and its symptoms, this one’s not for you. But it’s an important topic and I will always encourage any creator who uses their art to remind people it’s okay to talk about it. (Note from Kale, this was actually submitted in May but I missed it.)

More to Me (oneshot) by @becs-bunker

No spoilers, but I’m so glad this ended the way it did. So sweet <3

Help (oneshot) by @blushingjared

I came across this fic and was immediately intrigued. Then I started reading and I was captivated from the first sentence until the very last. The author did such a good job with setting the scene and painting the right picture.

Talking Bodies (oneshot) by @ne-gans

This AU-Sam is such a huge weakness of mine. That, in combination with this dangerously filthy masterpiece, is nothing short of perfection.

Nominated by @focusonspn

Into The Woods (series) by @amanda-teaches

So well written, interesting plot and great development. The chemistry between Y/N and Dean is also amazing, and I loved how this mini-series could be so easily part of the show. Totally worth reading.

Nominated by @thoughtslikeamindfield

Stranger Than FanFiction (series) by @cherry3point14

The premise is similar to the film Stranger Than Fiction – a story about a story being written about you – and it’s just as hilarious. Also, Cherry Pie is still one of the funniest writers in this corner of SPN fandom.

“You’re not supposed to move your head if there’s someone trying to murder you, probably…”

No, I wouldn’t think so, but lollllll

“You’re being insane, out loud.”

Omgggg

“It tried, oh, how the door tried to divert her attention from the unknown men who could be terrible, rule-breaking influences on her. However the door was only wood and she was a stubborn woman made of free will and limbs—a woman who refused to be deceived.”

“Your hand is on the doorknob before the mention of your limbs has finished rattling around your head. Realistically you don’t want to encourage the voice by doing what it says. After all, the voice’s ultimate goal seems to be killing you.”

BAHAHAHAH omfg you guys

I need to stop quoting from this bc I probably seem insane to those of you who haven’t read this, so stop being judgy buttheads and go read!

Nominated by @flamencodiva

The Choice (series) by @superfanficnatural

A couple of things. 1) this is an amazing fic that highlights Dean unwillingness to let himself go until it’s almost too late. and 2) the smut in this is hot hot hot hot! not for anyone under 18 years of age.

Mert has a way with words and can literally pluck you into one and make you see it as it comes to life in your head.

Mine (series) by @holylulusworld

Lulu has an abundance of different stories she tells and this one is my favorite of her ABO’s at the moment. (although I love all of them) I think this one deserved a mention. I am glad she joined to Pond so I could help nominate and spread her amazing work!

One Night at a Time (series) by @crashdevlin

Another great fic by Cassie! This one shot full of Angst, Smut, and if you squint just the right amount of Dean fluff. She has a way of capturing your attention and putting you in the world as you read.

What He Lost (oneshot) by @jensengirl83

This short story by Brandy is sure to rip your heart out. she leaves just a bit of hope where you think there is a chance only to crush it completely with the ending. This one is sure to bring you to tears if you are looking for the most delicious angsty story to read.

Nominated by @risingpheonix761

Down The Rabbit Hole (oneshot) by @dontshootmespence

So, this was hysterical. XD I love crack fics, and bad smut in particular, and this one hits the spot. (I’ve also learned several new horrible euphemisms lol). The ending, though? Golden!

Nominated by @myinconnelly1

The Affair (oneshot) by @holylulusworld

I love how well all the characters are portrayed I truly hate everyone except the reader! Well done!!

Red Riding Hood - or how you ran into a wolf... (oneshot) by @holylulusworld

I have nothing to say about this. I will simply allow the puddle I have become to speak for me.

Last Omega On Earth (oneshot) by @holylulusworld

This was a great entry in the ABO world. and we need more of this and more like !!!!! Great work!

My Beta (oneshot) by @holylulusworld

I am a greedy little bitch with this fic. I think I've read it 3-4 since i first read it this month!!!!!! READ THIS FIC!

Third Period (oneshot) by @fictionalabyss

Some truly inspiring smut. Inspiring to change my panties.

Gods of Twilight (series) by @thecleverdame

I think i posted this fic in my rec before, but it is so amazing and intricate that i can't stop gushing about it. Fucking awesome.

Apple Pie (oneshot) by @bad268

The amazingness of this is great, check this guppy out!

Deal (oneshot) by @bad268

Comedy at some of its's finest!!!

Confession (oneshot) by @idreamofplaid

THE FLUFFFFFFF!!!! I don't read straight fluff. So get the tissues ready.

Fallen (series) by idreamofplaid

My therapist has told me i'm not longer allowed to talk about this fic during our sessions. So instead i shall now talk about it here... *pulls out soapbox* ahem... *gets pulled away with hook*

Memory (oneshot) by @idreamofplaid

This fic is older, but i love it so much. I recently went back and reread it, and the angst and reconciliation in this fic are heartwrenching.

Home (oneshot) by @emilyshurley

My dentist bill the month was higher than normal, due to the new cavities caused by this fic.

Imperfectly Yours (oneshot) by @emilyshurley

Cuteness overload as you get Dean's perspective of Home ^^

Second Hand News (oneshot) by @emilyshurley

Alright listen. I am a glutton for punishment. And this fic, I asked for. Also i had it set within one of the universes we now own. That all being said, reading this was like a dose of my own medicine and it fucking hurt.

Honesty And Lies (oneshot) by @crashdevlin

This was super dirty, and great. Totally recommend.

Nominated by @deanwinchesterswitch

The Classifieds (oneshot) by @talesmaniac89

This is rip your heart out and stomp on it angst right here. So well written, but so, so heartbreaking.

So Much More Than Perfect (oneshot) by @imagineteamfreewill

This fic is one of the sweetest things I’ve ever read. It made me tear up a bit, but who doesn’t love Dean being the most protective, most adorable dad ever?!

Nominated by @mariekoukie6661

Dear Dean (series) by @smol-and-grumpy

It’s one of those series that makes you wants more after every chapter. It’s a brilliant story.

Left Behind (series) by @kittenofdoomage

It’s the only John Fic I can read over and over and over again. Its hot, the plot is awesome! And it makes me wants more each and every time I read it.

Not Much Left (oneshot) by @impala-dreamer

I think Beka tries to kill her readers every time she writes smut… or she just tap into our mind what we want or what we fantasize about. Every single time I’m speechless by her talents!

Yes Professor (oneshot) by @impala-dreamer

It’s a Misha fic, there’s no one who write Misha the way Beka does!!!

Owe You One (series) by @supernatural-jackles

It’s such a great series! The friends with Benefit and Mechanic!Dean… I just love this so much and I don’t have words to describe how good this one is!!

Flirty In French (oneshot) by @fictionalabyss

This is brilliant, and I know its an old one, but from someone who finally decided to read more and from someone who is from Quebec, this is absolutely brilliant! The flirty french pick up line are so hilarious!

Nominated by @moosekateer13

Watching for Comets (series) by @holylulusworld

This fic beautifully captures the song that it was inspired by.

It also showcases things that when things are meant to be.

I’ll will all fall into place.

Please Trust Me (oneshot) by @holylulusworld

This fic beautifully emotionally captures what it’s like to have trust issues.

Nominated by @fictionalabyss

Last Call (oneshot) by @impala-dreamer

It was everything we needed and wanted.

Culinary Exploits (oneshot) by @impala-dreamer

Too utterly ridiculous not to get a mention.

His Omega (oneshot) by @iflostreturntosteverogers

A sweet little comfort fic of Dean being utterly perfect caring for his Omega. Carrie also pulled off keeping this gender neutral, which isn’t something I see a lot of, and probably something I’d struggle with, so hats off to you, babe.

Poison (oneshot) by @supernatural-jackles

YES omg i feel this on such a level. I’ve gone through that shit myself. A friend who lets you down so profoundly but then acts as if you’re the most toxic person in the world. Nothing feels as good as letting go of that shit and moving on to better things. This was beautiful, and perfect, and TRUTH.

Amara (oneshot) by @impala-dreamer

This one hurt. It really hurt, but it hurt so good that I’m left wanting more.

Take Me Now (oneshot) by @sorenmarie87

If Dawn doesn’t continue this, I’ll riot.

Stuck On You (oneshot) by @kittenofdoomage

I rarely read a fic this long (I just don’t usually have the time) but it looked too interesting for me to scroll past, and it had me completely captivated. I needed to know what would happen as if I needed air, even though I could guess how it ended, I needed to read the words. Phenomenal.

Thank you all for the awesome work and great feedback!

These are not actual awards! This system is set up so everyone in the pond has a chance to share the love and promote a fic/author that has grabbed your attention. The more people that participate, and the more everyone remembers to submit their own fics after posting, the better this will be :D

THANK YOU ALL AGAIN, KEEP UP THE AMAZING WORK, AND AS ALWAYS, HAPPY WRITING!

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alottanothing · 5 years ago

Text

Left to Ruin: Chapter Eleven

Summary: Ahkmenrah struggles with the aftermath of his confrontation with Nouke. Setshepsut is at last found, and the pharaoh puts Kahmunrah in his place.

Previous Chapters

Word Count: 7805

Warnings: Mentions of torture, abuse, and blood.

Tag List: @xmxisxforxmaybe, @r-ahh-mi, @theultraviolencefan, @hah0106, @rami-malek-trash, @diasimar, @sherlollydramoine, @flipper-kisses, @ivy-miranda-2390, @txmel, @sunkissedmikky, @concentratedsassandcandy, @babyalienfairy, @edteche2 (Let me know if I missed you, or if you would like to be added to the tag list)

A/N: Ooooo this chapter! I’m so excited this chapter is finally being posted! This one was one of my top 3 favorites to write, the emotion in it is just.....I just love it. I hope you all do too. Thanks again, SO MUCH for your comments and likes and reblogs. The tiniest nugget validation feeds my motivation. Again, as a disclaimer, I am not an ancient Egyptian expert and google only knows so much. So yeah, I took so historical liberties while writing this to make my life easier, but tried to keep it as “authentic” as possible

For three days, the pharaoh's men searched Waset for traces of his missing queen without the benefit of insight. Setshepsut had left no note or sign that could hint at where she may have run to. And by the second day with no answers, Ahkmenrah felt pressured to enlist Kahmunrah's help to find her, even when he knew his brother would not heed is want for discretion and mercy. Ahk hated having to rely on a band of mercenaries—they’d left the palace with fiendish smiles and hollow assurances that left a sick feeling in the pharaoh’s gut that was impossible to ignore. Desperation was the only thing keeping the pharaoh from calling them back. He needed to find the sister that he promised to always protect. He needed to find her so he could apologize for the things that caused her to run away. He needed to know she was safe.

Those few days were the longest Ahkmenrah ever remembered having to endure. He’d found no rest, plagued to the brim with worry and guilt while his sorrow festered until it ate away every remaining glint of happiness left inside of him. The fact that he hurt not only one person with his heedless words (or lack of them, too) left the pharaoh feeling as though he deserved to live in this misery he had stirred for the rest of his days.

He cowered behind his crown and golden robes; Setshepsut would never have done something so shameful. She harbored bravery he did not, and he was envious of that courage. She cared little for her station and the responsibilities that went alongside it—running away for her was undoubtedly an easy decision. Ahk could only bring himself to throw caution to the wind and free himself from the golden shackles of his birth for no more than an evening, maybe two.

He admired Set's tenacity. All it had taken was an exchange of misinterpreted words for her to chase the freedom she desired. Ahk’s adventurous spirit longed to be so bold, but his level mind knew there was too much at stake for him to be so selfish.

And Nouke—his heart ached.

Nouke, Ahk feared, would never see him in the same light again. All their time together since they were children he had shown her nothing but friendship and kindness. Letting her believe he thought of her as a second prize was cruel. She had always been his only one, and he didn’t tell her.

Ahkmenrah’s mind was so turbulent that evening when she’d come to him. The concern for his missing sister clouded his better judgment and forced him to crave distraction. He’d wanted so much to drown the guilt and worry with selfish pleasure—not once stopping to think how Nouke might interpret his intimacy. And like a coward, he froze when she demanded an explanation—too afraid to come clean of the lies he and Setshepsut had sold to all of Egypt for nearing six years.

Would she have stayed if he admitted his fervent desire to have her that night was more than a way to subdue the guilt he felt for chasing away his sister? Perhaps, but only once he’d confessed his plan to break his union with Setshepsut. It would have been so easy if he’d only said those words. She would have stayed, and the emptiness he felt would be significantly less crippling with her by his side while men searched to bring his sister home.

Ahkmenrah spent the majority of the time it took to find his sister in his chamber or at prayer in the temple to ensure no one bothered him. Matters with the council and all his other responsibilities went forward without his guidance—Merenkahre stepping in, and Ahk was thankful. Even his meals he took in the solitude of his room. Kamuzu was the only one who stuck with him threw it all, silent and observing.

It was evening when servants brought the pharaoh his dinner plate—quiet as a whisper. Golden rays spilled into the chamber as Ra’s light sank into the horizon beyond the open balcony, but neither the radiance nor the fruitful plate in front of him drew a reaction. He did little more than glance at the existence of each.

“You must eat, my king,” Kamuzu encouraged in a gentle but stern tone.

A mirthless smile curled Ahkmenrah’s lips as a sardonic chuckle echoed in the stillness of the room, his eyes falling to the tray of food.

“King?” he chided, mostly to himself, listless eyes passing a leer to his crown perched on the table next to his dinner.

A deep breath filled his lungs, and his nostrils flared when he exhaled forcefully with discontent. Idle hands tore pieces of bread from his plate; Ahkmenrah chewed and swallowed before he spoke again.

“I am no king, Kamuzu.” He kicked out the empty chair across the way with his foot, gesturing with a pointed wave for his guardian to join.

Kamuzu blinked at the informal invitation with hesitation but abided without an utterance. His dark eyes stayed trained on the pharaoh, watchful, and concerned.

Ahk sipped hungrily from his goblet until it was dry. He craved the dull senses several cupfuls brought and was quick to pour himself another.

“You’re all I have left.” Ahkmenrah filled a second chalice as he spoke and slid it across the table with enough force the dark liquid splashed and stained his fingers.

Kamuzu nodded his thanks as he took the cup, but refrained from sipping.

“You have many people, my king,” he assured Ahkmenrah.

The pharaoh wrinkled his nose in disagreement, taking another long gulp before shaking his head.

“No,” he insisted. “My father as my mother—and she, him. I have four sisters, three of whom have their husbands and their families. Kahmunrah has that band of men who do everything he says…”

Ahk took another drink and sneered thinking about his brother, “…I’ve not known him to want much more than people to boss around...And Set?”

He paused, feeling guilt stab and twist into his stomach as he recalled the tone in her voice the last time they’d spoken—how broken it was. Ahkmenrah stole another long swig hoping to chase away the sudden pain.

“Set took what she wanted. I commend her for that,” Ahk said pragmatically. “Bravery to laugh duty in the face.”

He sighed and raised his goblet, as though he were making a toast, “As for me—I have all of Egypt.”

There was practically nothing in his tone, yet the pharaoh felt everything as he finished another cupful—oh how he wanted to feel nothing.

Ahkmenrah’s eyes fixated on his mostly untouched meal as loneliness threatened to overwhelm him. He could feel Kamuzu’s gaze and when he risked meeting it, tears began to prickle. A sigh shook a chill down his spine and Ahk struggled to swallow the abrupt lump in his throat.

“How can I have an entire nation and feel so alone?”

A single tear began to slide down his cheek, but Ahkmenrah caught it, brushing it away with the back of his hand and a sniffle. An eerie quiet crept into the room that was too similar to the one the night Nouke had left him. It worked under the pharaoh's skin as he stared into the middle distance while his mind pondered and screamed to him every horrible thing he had ever done. Then, without warning, he blinked out of it.

Ahkmenrah stood, gripping the edge of the table when the room began to spin slightly from the sudden rush and the alcohol in his system. Kamuzu stood too, suddenly alert. The pharaoh cleared his throat and gathered himself, meeting the Medjay’s gaze.

“Thank you,” he forced out in a bravado that was more or less kingly. “I’m tired, Kamuzu. You may go.”

Kamuzu offered a respectful bow and made for the doors. He stopped; however, before he left, hand on the door, as he turned back to face the pharaoh.

“May I speak freely, my king?”

“Always,” Ahkmenrah nodded, meeting his guardian’s gaze, finding his vision fuzzy on account of the number of drinks he’d had.

“You have not lost her."

Ahkmenrah blinked and his brow furrowed, “Who?”

Kamuzu cast him a gentle, knowing smile, “Rest well, my king.”

With the aid of one more cupful, Ahkmenrah did find himself in a deep dreamless sleep that was a welcome reprieve. He woke, however, with a pulsing between his temples and the stale taste of alcohol on his tongue.

It took several minutes before Ahk could open his eyes completely without going blind. The amount of light cascading into his chamber meant the morning was in its adolescence. No one had bothered to wake him—evidence that there was still no word on his sister’s whereabouts. The new, ever-present, sense of dread dug a little deeper as he rubbed his temples in an attempt to allay the pounding in his head.

Day’s end would mark four since Setshepsut had gone. The thought was enough to strike fear into Ahkmenrah’s heart. If she wasn’t’ found, he hoped it was because she and her lover had found passage out of the city, safely, and not because she was in danger.

Not knowing plagued him the most.

He cared not that she ran. There was a warmhearted solace in the thought that she was miles down the Nile on her way to the life she yearned for. Ahk only ever wanted her to be happy and if that meant she never stepped foot in the palace again, he could live with that, as long as she was safe. Gods, I hope she is safe…

Despite his restful sleep, Ahkmenrah was still exhausted from carrying the weight of his rampant emotions. Eventually, he worked himself from his bed and dressed for the day, forgoing most of his usual kingly attire. Instead, he dressed only in his ankle-length shendyt, it’s adjoining belts, and a more simplistic wekesh.

The relaxed finery granted him the solitude as he walked that his churning mind needed. The sights of his chamber had grown tiresome. Ahkmenrah spent the remainder of the morning and into the late afternoon roaming the halls with heedless steps, venturing blindly while his mind wandered.

When the late afternoon began to stretch into the early evening, the pharaoh’s feet were worn almost to the point of blistering. His feet ached but his thoughts were still teaming, needing quiet focus for him to fully make sense of them all.

Ahkmenrah found himself in the spacious quiet of the throne room, Kamuzu and several Medjay guards his only audience. The high seat of the pharaoh felt odd without his usual ornamentation to weigh him down. Nevertheless, he remained, too worn to move until he felt rested. He slouched into the gilded chair, unable to find a more comfortable position.

There was a reverence to the throne room that his own chamber held no more. Ahkmenrah sought to absorb that peace wholly, begging it sink into his overburdened mind and put to rest some of his strife. He let his eyes fall closed—blessedly only empty black stared back, and he surrendered to it. Ahk settled there, floating in an inky abyss somewhere within the depths of his own psyche, finding the stillness he craved. Hours, or perhaps only minutes had passed before the echo of heavy doors opening drew him from the quiet.

Alarm jolted him back to the plight of his reality with a few swift blinks and a frown.

“The guards said they thought you wandered in here.”

The sound of his mother’s voice filled the room warmly, chasing away the glower on Ahkmenrah’s face.

“When your father told me you missed yet another council meeting I knew I had to find you.” Her words echoed gently within the walls and tall ceiling as she crossed the length of the room.

Ahkmenrah shifted in his chair, situating himself into a more respectable posture for a king, but said nothing, still overly focused on his misgivings to speak.

A compassionate smile pressed onto his mother's wide lips, and the beads in her black hair rattled as she shook her head with a sigh.

“You may be a king, but to me, you will always be my sweet boy,” she said gently brushing fingers through his curls in an attempt to tame them. “Tell me what it is that troubles you so.”

Her hand fell to tilt his chin so his eyes met hers.

Ahkmenrah shrugged and looked away, “I’m just worried about Setshepsut, mother.”

It wasn’t entirely a lie, but his tone gave him away. His mother was much too wise not to take notice.

Shepseheret nodded and perched herself on the wide arm of the pharaoh’s throne.

“Yes, I do see that. There is something more—your heart aches. But not—I think—for your sister,” she paused and tried to smooth out his curls again. “Help me to understand this.”

When he chanced meeting her gaze, the sense of loneliness began to melt away under the warmth of her expression. Ahk’s body relaxed knowing he could let his guard down; he didn’t have to be a king to his mother, and the realization almost sent a wave of tears spilling down his cheeks.

“There’s so much to say,” he said, unable to fully combat the wave of hesitance; five years of a charade to confess to and more.

“Tell me,” Shepseheret urged softly.

With a shaky exhale, Ahkmenrah built up the courage to confess, wanting only to say the right words to ensure he hurt no others.

“Set and I…” he sighed again. “We haven’t been—we don’t. We do not love each other in the way a husband and wife should love one another. Our entire union has been an act.”

There was something profound in saying those words out loud and for a moment, he felt lighter than air. The weight of their secret no longer held him to the ground.

Ahkmenrah paused long enough to gauge his mother’s expression and found only softness on her features. It was her kindness and openness that fostered the rest of the courage he needed to profess all that plagued him.

“All these years we’ve been spending our nights together talking or playing Senet, or simply hating what is expected of us….” It was a miracle neither of them resented each other after so much time forced with each other. Ahkmenrah was glad for that.

A hint of sadness ghosted over Shepseheret’s face. She said nothing for a long time until finally, she sighed.

“I know.”

“You know?” Ahkmenrah’s brow furrowed, mouth open slightly with shock.

“I’ve known for some time, actually,” his mother confessed, looking somewhat ashamed.

“I don’t understand.” Ahk couldn’t look away, searching for an explanation in her features.

“Who do you think put the idea of a second wife for you into your father’s head,” she said with a twinge of pride. It faded quickly when Ahkmenrah’s bewilderment didn’t diminish

“Why?” he asked.

The slight look of sadness returned to his mother’s kind smile, “I had hoped having someone of your own would bring you joy.”

Ahkmenrah’s focus fell back to the stone floor, doing his best to digest all the new information. There was hardly space in his mind to store and properly process such things.

“So you knew about Set and Satauhotep?” he asked, skimming through the web in his head to find the right questions to ask.

“I knew she had someone, but not who,” she nodded.

Ahkmenrah thought a moment, sifting through more of his laden thoughts trying to decide which confession he wanted to bring up next.

“It’s my fault Set ran away.”

“How so?” his mother’s brow creased.

“Do you remember Nouke?” Saying her name was like a knife in his heart.

Shepseheret grinned as her eyes sparkled with fond memories.

“Of course. She always had you wrapped around her finger.”

“Still, it seems,” he admitted.

There was so much to tell his mother. He wanted to start at the beginning: about how Kahmunrah had wronged Nouke and her family, forcing them to leave without a good-bye. Another time, he thought. There was little that could be done about the past, what mattered then was the present.

“She came back to the palace asking for my help—”

“And did you help her?”

“Without question,” Ahk said. “And during those few hours of being with her again, I found joy the likes of which I don’t ever recall feeling.”

A glad smile drew tightly onto his mother’s face, but there was still a hint of puzzlement creasing her brow.

“And how does that make you responsible for your sister running away to be with the man she loves?”

Guilt churned in Ahkmenrah’s stomach with a sickening slosh.

“I promised her that when I found a new bride, I would release her, so she could be with Satauhotep. But I misspoke, and I didn’t catch it. So she took matters into her own hands.”

“I see,” Shepseheret spoke, taking a moment to consider his confession. “But don’t you think Setshepsut should hold some of the fault as well? She should have asked the meaning of your words.”

Ahkmenrah had not considered that. However, he still felt as though he alone was responsible.

“There’s more though, I think,” his mother said, searching his expression.

Ahk nodded and the words forming on his tongue rose with a sour taste, causing him to frown.

“My carelessness was the same with Nouke. Although, that fault does lie with only me,” he said. “She questioned my meaning and I said nothing. Now I’ve lost her also.”

His mother was quiet a long time before she cast him a smile, shaking her head.

“My dearest son,” she chided gently. “My sweet, Ahkmen. Sulking around these halls will not heal your injured heart. Go to her. Speak with her the words you couldn’t before. You will only lose her if you allow yourself to.”

It wouldn’t be so easy. He hurt her, truly hurt her. Still, Ahkmenrah exhaled as he turned his mother’s notions over and over in his mind.

“I fear she now only sees me as her pharaoh,”

“You are a pharaoh,” his mother interjected. “And as pharaoh, no one holds the power to tell you whom you can and cannot marry, no matter their station—noble or otherwise, you can have whomever you desire. You may have one wife, or you may have ten. A hundred women in your harem or none. This world is yours; you need only the courage to reach out and take whatever it is your heart yearns to hold.”

All at once, Ahkmenrah’s trepidation folded in on itself collapsing under the weight of his mother’s wisdom, and left a hole that renewed hope rushed to fill. The sensation spurred him to his feet and in a fluid movement, he threw his arms around his mother so quickly she hardly had time to stand.

Her gleefully surprised chuckle enveloped him with a tingling warmth, prompting a smile to spread across his face, feeling joy he thought he may never again find.

“Thank you, mother, for your wise counsel.” He squeezed her tight and kissed her cheek.

She hummed pulling away, caressing both sides of his face with her hands, kissing his forehead.

“The gods were unusually kind to give me you. It honors me to share what wisdom Thoth has granted me.”

Ahkmenrah was about to return her sentiment when the throne room doors burst open without warning.

The thunderous reverberation in the grand hall was startling, causing their eyes to glance in alarm to find an array of mercenary guards flooding into the room with Kahmunrah at their lead, adorned proudly in his golden armor, as though he’d just returned from battle with a prize. In his iron-clad grip, dragging behind him, was Setshepsut. Her clothes were tattered and ripped at the hem—ankles bloodied from being hauled like a hunter's kill. Set’s lip bled from a cut, evidence that proved she had not let Kahmunrah take her without a fight.

Beyond his brother, Ahkmenrah made out Satauhotep in chains, beaten and bloody. A large gash on his head spilled a crimson line down the contours of his face, his bare torso bruised.

The sight worked through Ahk in a wave of rage and horror as Kahmunrah approached—his grin wickedly pleased—with a hubris so powerful it stuck in the air making the pharaoh's anger more intense.

Kah tossed Setshepsut at his feet with no small air of pride, as though she were a trophy to be revered. Ahk’s mouth hung open; the rush of words he wanted to scream stuck to his dry tongue, compiling until he was able to sift through each, granting him the wisdom to force out the calmest reaction he could manage. He exhaled slowly, swallowing the superfluous words, and blinked until the shaken reality settled around him.

“What is the meaning of this, Kahmunrah?” The pharaoh winced inwardly when his voice sounded more terrified then calm—least of all demanding.

“My men found your queen in bed with another man,” Kah threw an errant wave of his hand towards Satauhotep.

The black of Kahmunrah’s eyes met Ahk’s with a fiendish delight that was unnerving to behold. He was proud to have beaten and abused them.

“She has betrayed you, little brother. An insidious crime that is punishable by death,” Kah reminded him.

Ahk stood frozen, teeth set firm against each other. His breathing was deep but much too slow for the rapid pace of his heart. The pharaoh’s eyes were locked in quiet rage with his brother.

Setshepsut’s sobs filled the once reverent room upon the proclamation of her pending execution: an array of short pants, sniffs, and choked plea's spilling past her lips. The sound pulled Ahk��s leer away from his brother and to her. Set's own glances teetered from brother to brother, gauging them, before finally she wobbled to her feet and threw her arms around Ahkmenrah’s shoulders.

She clung to him as though he was all that was keeping her bound to the earth. Without hesitation, Ahk’s arms circled her trembling frame protectively, while she cried against his chest.

“I’m sorry Ahkmen! Please, have mercy! Forgive me, p-please”

All the anger writhing inside of Ahk subsided; his need to console his sister immensely stronger at that moment. He kept her close, smoothing her disheveled hair.

“Shh,” he murmured. “You have nothing to fear from me.”

He pulled away just enough to meet her gaze, her dark eyes shimmering with tears.

“You’re safe now, Set,” Ahk promised. “I promise”

A breath of relief shook her, and she tried to smile but couldn’t. Then she nodded when words failed to form.

Ahkmenrah kissed her forehead and passed her to his mother’s protective arms, minding the bruises beginning to form on the upper part of her arm from where Kahmunrah had sunk his claws into her.

The moment he saw Set safe with their mother, the fire reignited and his blood boiled. Venom coated every word that left his mouth, no longer burdened with the heaviness of horror that belittled his tone moments ago. A hatred sank into his bones, and for the first time, he was able to meet his brother’s cold eyes with an icy reflection.

“I should have you stripped of every title—every non-tangible thing that keeps that arrogant smirk on your face. You would be nothing without what I have graciously bestowed upon you.”

Never had Ahk seen Kahmunrah’s smile melt so quickly into a frown—one of equal rage and confusion. His teeth ground together as he furrowed his brow, his nostrils flaring like an angry ox.

“Am I to understand that I will be punished for bringing this traitor to your attention?” Kahmunrah stepped forward as if to provoke a challenge. Ahk did the same; the gap between them no more than an arm's length.

Suddenly, he missed the benefit of his crown and golden capes that made him feel like the king he was. Still, Ahk squared his shoulders and raised his chin.

“She is the queen,” he hissed through his teeth.

Kahmunrah’s nose wrinkled with a sneer as he threw an angry finger in Setshepsut’s direction.

“That unfaithful snake is no queen!”

Before Kah could manage another word, Ahkmenrah sent his fist into his brother’s jaw with as much force and as much dedication he could muster. The power surprised them both; Ahkmenrah almost certain the cracking sound he heard was his own knuckles.

Kahmunrah stumbled, teetering on uneven feet as Ahkmenrah mentally waged how badly his hand would ache once the adrenaline stopped surging through him like fire. The abrupt assault was met with the lot of Kah’s men stepping forward with their hands prepared to draw their weapons—ready to defend their master.

Ahkmenrah tilted his head in challenge, shocked any of them would consider brandishing a weapon at their pharaoh. As if spawned from the very walls, a legion of Medjay flanked their king, Kamuzua at their lead and stepping further to fall in line with Ahkmenrah.

When Kah regained his footing, he did so rubbing his jaw and made a show of spitting blood and a piece of broken tooth onto the floor. A wicked grin—impressed to some extent—contorted his face as he raised his hand to signal his men to come to heel, his eyes never leaving Ahkmenrah’s.

“It’s good to know you do have fight in you after all, little brother,” Kah noted, seemingly amused and intrigued by the turn of events.

Ahk’s fists balled at his sides, struggling to quell the want to hit his brother once more for all he had done, both past and present. The ache in his hand, beginning to pulse, however, helped curb his desire. He didn’t want to make it worse.

“You will not address me so informally,” the pharaoh glowered. “I am your king, and in the presence of your men, you will address me as such.”

The snide grin on Kahmunrah’s face faltered back into an irritated frown, “Very well. My king.”

He paused before pointing to Satauhotep.

“The boy then,” Kahmunrah suggested. “If you will not abide by the laws of Egypt—”

“I AM the law in Egypt!” Ahkmenrah warned with a growl.

Kah scoffed, unfazed. “Surely you don’t mean to let them both free?” Kah shook his head disapprovingly, making a tsk sound with his tongue.

“Kill the boy, at least,” he suggested again with a nonchalance that made Ahkmenrah hate his brother even more.

Setshepsut’s sobs filled the air again, more quiet plea’s of forgiveness and mercy.

“Then,” Kah added. “Perhaps your queen will learn her place.”

Ahkmenrah took a step closer to his brother, fire, and rage fueling his every movement and gathered himself to his full height.

“If anyone needs to learn their place, it is you, Kahmunrah.”

In that moment, Ahkmenrah felt three times his size; tall and ominous with a timbre in his voice so sinister he couldn’t completely recognize it as his own. Kah may have been physically larger, but there in the throne room, Ahk saw him no larger than the snake he was.

The bewildered, quiet rage building behind his brother’s eyes was confirmation that he had finally gotten through to him; finally shown Kah, who was king. The notion instilled Ahk with an unfamiliar wave of hubris that he chose to ride for as long as he could. He felt no shame in any of the rage soaked words that spilled from his lips; there was truth in his anger—something carefully harbored and calculated over years of nothing but receiving contempt despite his best efforts to have Kahmunrah as his brother.

Using his fresh wave of confidence, Ahkmenrah stormed past his brother and addressed the regiment of mercenaries.

“You will release this man at once,” Ahk stated calmly to the men securing Satauhotep.

The mercenaries exchanged a glance before throwing their questioning look to Kahmunrah. Ahk stifled his anger and allowed their slight sedition to pass without upheaval.

When Kah nodded, the men surrendered the beaten soldier heedless of his weakened state. He fell forward and Ahk caught him, hastily adjusting his footing to make up for the added weight.

“I’ve got you,” he assured Satauhotep.

From his new vantage point, Ahk found the soldier’s wounds were much worse than he’d initially thought. His back was an angry tangle of bleeding lash marks; his knuckles were a fresco of purple and yellow markings from fighting off his attackers. The cut on his head still bled, and his wrists and ankles were swollen red from the shackles he wore. The entire sight made Ahkmenrah sick, feeling slightly responsible. He never should have asked Kah to help him find his sister.

“You will be greatly compensated for the cruelty that has transpired today, my friend.”

Ahkmenrah walked him across the room slowly before handing him to Setshepsut and Shepseheret with the instruction to take him to the healers. The two carefully shared the soldier’s weight and Ahkmenrah blinked after them as they left, feeling the sense of confidence and calm wane until all that remained was disgust for his brother.

“As for the rest of you.” Ahkmenrah spoke loud enough for his kingly bravado to carry across the room, while his eyes scanned the numerous faces before him.

“You are to leave my sight immediately. Apart from you.” He pointed to Kahmunrah. “You, I will speak to without the ears of your hired guard.”

A stillness crept over the room as the mercenaries all looked to their master for a command; and that time, Ahk would not let the blunder pass.

Ahkmenrah’s lips curled in anger, “I am your pharaoh! You do not look to him for instruction. Leave! Now!”

Without so much as a questioning blink, the horde of men scattered, leaving Ahk alone with his Medjay and his brother. As he watched them all vanish, he felt no less infuriated. Kahmunrah’s lingering presence was more abhorrent than a hundred men who opposed him.

“I must admit. That display was arguably the most kingly thing I have ever witnessed coming from you.” A delighted grin, gushing with manic amusement twisted onto his features—enough to stir the ire inside Ahkmenrah.

“Do not smile at me,” Ahk growled, prompting Kahmunrah’s grin to fall swiftly. “Do you think this was all merely an act? Some farce to—to impress your guard?”

Ahkmenrah exhaled deeply, nostrils flaring in an attempt to keep his head clear. He didn’t want his anger to cloud his judgment, but he did allow it to give him the courage to make justified hard decisions.

“If you ever presume to touch any of my sisters again, you will be relieved of your hands. Do I make myself clear?”

Kahmunrah swallowed and clenched his jaw in irritation but said nothing.

“Those men in your service are hereby banished from the palace grounds. You will be granted men from my guard who will see to your protection, and are, undoubtedly, loyal to me,” Ahk paused long enough to watch Kah’s expression twist, angered like a child who was denied their favorite toy. “If you cannot accept this, or you openly question my rule again, I will see to it that you too are thrown from this very palace. Forever.”

Kahmunrah fumed in silence, digesting his new punishment with quiet rage and cold, black eyes.

“Is that all, my king?”

“No actually. It would be wise for you to keep your distance from me for the time being—I cannot promise I won’t strike you again or have you thrown in a cell.” Ahkmenrah proclaimed honestly, using the same indifference Kah usually used on him.

“Now, get out. I am done with you.”

Kahmunrah, however, remained in spite of the pharaoh’s order, never surrendering his heavy leer, as though he were sizing Ahk up to test him. Fire still burned in Ahkmenrah, and he used it to hone his anger so he could hold his brother’s glare with equal intensity. He knew Kah was waiting for him to fold—to renounce every demand he’d just spoken like the weak ruler his brother thought him to be.

“Get. Out,” Akh growled through clenched teeth.

Finally, Kahmunrah bowed his head—his rage palpable, “Your majesty."

The second his brother was out of sight, Ahkmenrah called his guardians to arm. Without hesitation, a platoon kneeled before him, waiting patiently for their king's orders.

“Medjay, see to it that every last mercenary in my brothers employ is rooted out and escorted beyond these walls. If any man gives you trouble, I implore you to use force to bring them to heel, thereafter they will be cast into a cell. I will not have blood on my hands—I am not my brother. Am I understood?”

“Yes, my pharaoh!” the men replied in perfect unison.

“Go then. The gods be with you.”

In perfect formation, his men stood and marched out of the throne room, taking with them, his fire. Steam billowed out of Ahkmenrah with a long sigh, all of his anger dulling and relaxing his tense muscles. It felt good to be free of the rage he’d carried. And yet, Ahkmenrah couldn’t help but wonder who that pent-up rage had turned him into, and the thought seemed to trigger the ache in his bruised and bloodied knuckles. Penance—he figured, for acting so rashly.

Kahmunrah was a selfish, power-hungry creature, fed by cruelty; everything Ahkmenrah feared to become. Even so, Kah was still his brother. And while Ahk wondered if he could ever find it in him to forgive his brother for all that had transpired, the pharaoh still held onto the foolish hope that one-day Kahmunrah would see him as a brother, and not the boy who took his crown away from him.

When his nerves finally settled, his fists unclenching and his heart finding it’s normal rhythm, Ahkmenrah felt as though he’d swum the length of the Nile—overwhelmingly exhausted. The fury was gone, vanished just as quickly and quietly as it had taken control of him. Ahk was glad to be rid of it, though, there was a new feeling that was slowly rising to take its place.

“You should have hit him again,” Kamuzu expressed with an uncharacteristically joking tone.

A weak, almost shocked, chuckle rattled through the pharaoh.

“I wanted to,” Ahk admitted, casting an assessing look to his hand; his nose wrinkled at the sight he found.

The mark was ugly, already turning purple and yellow, as blood trickled in thin streaks from cuts brought on by the force of his assault. Its ache was equal to how it looked.

Ahkmenrah tore his eyes away from his hand unable to look at it or think about the narrative it told. It would serve as a reminder of the man he became when he let his anger stew too long—a man he never wanted to become.

“I should not have done it in the first place.”

From Kahmunrah’s viewpoint regarding the situation, he was in his ground. True, he’d handled it poorly, but his reasoning was justifiable. Ahkmenrah knew the law. Setshepsut knew the law: an unfaithful wife of a king was to be brought to death. Her lover too. That was the law set many centuries ago, and Ahk blatantly ignored it.

What kind of king does that make me? The pharaoh was almost certain the gods would punish him one day for letting matters spiral out of his control.

“I know what you are thinking, my king,” Kamuzu said, surveying the strain on Ahkmenrah’s face. “If I may speak free?”

The pharaoh managed a nod.

“Kahmunrah may not have known the history of the queen and this soldier like you and I. But the gods see us all for who we are in all that we do; they see your kindness and the wisdom of what you have done this day. And for that, surely they will sing you praise.”

Ahkmenrah met Kamuzu’s gaze, feeling relief drift over him upon hearing his guardian's gracious words. Being told that he made a correct decision was a welcomed sensation, especially when he felt as though—of late—every word from his mouth was wrong.

“Your brother needed to be reminded that it is you who is the gods chosen,” Kamuzu continued; purging his own contempt it seemed. “It was wise too, to be rid of the men under his command. I do not trust a man whose loyalty depends on how deep someone's pockets are.”

Ahk bobbed his head in quiet agreement. Ruffians and cast-outs with hot tempers were always the ones Kahmunrah gathered around himself; no longer would Ahkmenrah allow them in his home. They could not be trusted.

“Yes, that decision was long overdue.” The pharaoh paused for a moment, pensive. “But please see to it that he is given good, able, men to protect him. For everything he is and isn’t, he is still my brother.”

“Of course, my king.”

“Thank you.” Ahkmenrah cast his protector a weak smile. “And not just for—”

The pharaoh wasn’t sure how to phrase what it was he wanted to say. Kamuzu meant so much more to him than just the man who guarded him. He’d been his most trusted companion for as long as he could remember—he was a friend.

“Thanks,” Ahk decided on when his words failed him, feeling the proper sentiment, lost, in only a single word.

Even so, Kamuzu’s dark eyes smiled upon him in understanding, “It continues to be my highest honor.”

A full smile unfurled slowly on Ahkmenrah’s face, feeling his friends’ words envelop him warmly, and a little of the loneliness that plagued him dwindled.

“I should check on my sister and Satauhotep.”

“I shall follow your lead, my king.” Kamuzu bowed his head respectfully and swung his arm for Ahk to guide him.

The wing of the palace where the healers and the priests resided was a journey long enough to lull what remained of Ahkmenrah’s fury. For all the commotion that had taken place moments ago, the halls were blessedly quiet. As soon as the pharaoh came to the large narrow hall, the tranquil scent of healing herbs colored the air, the sound of priests recanting their remedial prayers in a musical chant made the atmosphere of the temple calming.

There were a few afflicted or injured persons being tended to, and Ahk’s eyes skimmed over each of their faces until he found ones familiar to him. When he found them, his feet stopped.

Setshepsut sat next to her lover; her hands cupped around his as men cleaned the lash marks on his back. Despite all that had been done to them—all the strife their love had suffered—they never looked more at peace. Ahkmenrah stood idle, watching them; filling his own heart to the brim with gladness. For a moment, he considered turning on his heel and leaving them be. What he needed to say could wait. He didn’t want to dampen their moment with pleas of forgiveness to make himself feel better. It was they who had endured hardships far greater than his own; they deserved an evening of privacy.

However, when Setshepsut’s stray glance caught him, she jumped to her feet.

“Ahkmen!” she said with a gasp.

Set ran, throwing her arms around him with enough force Ahk had to catch his footing.

“Please forgive me for running away. Satau had nothing to do with it—it was all my idea. I was foolish!” Her words came out muffled, buried against his neck, and he had trouble deciphering whether or not she was crying again.

Tears did well in his eyes as he squeezed his little sister tight, overjoyed to know she was safe once more. Ahkmenrah would sooner see himself to the executioner’s block than pass a sentence to condemn her. He would never understand how Kah could command such a notion with careless gusto.

“There’s no need for an apology. It is I who should be begging for your forgiveness," Ahk assured her as he held her at arm's length to assess her injuries.

Her eyes were red and puffy—she was crying—but the cut on her lip was already scabbing over. The most alarming was the bruise on her upper arm: a near-perfect illustration of Kahmunrah’s unrelenting grip.

Ahkmenrah’s eyes leered at the ugly mark; jaw clenched once more as distaste for his brother began to churn in his gut. Set’s gaze followed his.

“It’s not so bad,” she said in a soft tone.

Ahk shook his head and swallowed his fury before it could consume him again.

“It was never my intention to break the vow I made to you,” he finally said, casting a glance to Satauhotep. “To both of you.”

“I am sorry.” Ahk kissed her forehead softly, causing her to smile. “I have been the fool—not you.”

Setshepsut wove her hands around his waist and hugged him again before taking his hand to pull him deeper into the hall. She guided him onto the stool she was seated on previously and perched herself on the raised slab next to Satauhotep. He was seated upright so the healers could bind his torso with clean linen to protect the marks on his back.

Ahkmenrah did his best to mask the frown threatening to twist onto his features, close enough to properly survey the soldier's injuries. All the wounds had been tended to, but the maring was even more pronounced with the number of bandages hiding them.

“I’m so very sorry, my friend,” Ahkmenrah said with sincerity even though he felt the apology did not make up for what he had suffered. “These are the best priests and healers in all of Egypt.”

“Thank you, my king.”

The pharaoh waved his hand dismissively, “No, just Ahkmenrah—or Ahkmen.”

Set smiled his way, her expression coaxing the ghost of a grin onto his own lips.

“Thank you, Ahkmenrah.” Satauhotep tested his name with a furrowed brow.

Ahk nodded his approval with an added smile.

Satauhotep’s grin stretched wider, as though the honor of calling his king by name made up for the terror he’d faced. He reached for Setshepsut's hands and tilted his forehead against hers gleefully.

The simple gesture painted a true grin on Ahkmenrah’s features; his mind made up. He wasn’t going to let them live their romance in secret any longer than they had to.

“I intend to honor my vow,” he stated loud enough and with enough resoluteness they both looked his way.

“Before weeks end, I will see to it that Setshepsut and I’s marriage is dissolved.”

A quick, happy gasp escaped his sister's smile, which she tried to muffle with her hand.

“Satauhotep, you will be granted new ranks in my military—titles befitting a man wishing to wed a princess of Egypt.”

It took a moment for the joy to blossom on their faces, slow at first, until it consumed them entirely. When they shared a kiss, Ahkmenrah let his focus fall to the floor, allowing them that moment to themselves.

The adoration spilling from their open and loving hearts permeated the air with a warmth Ahk’s aching heart clung to with the hope it would dull the pain harbored inside. It was a derelict sort of hope, but Ahkmenrah was certain he could be happy just knowing Setshepsut would live a life of peace. That would be enough—it had to be.

When he stood to leave, Set stood too.

“What about you?” she asked as though she’d plucked thoughts from his head.

“What about me?” Ahkmenrah shrugged although he knew what she would say.

“Who’s to be your queen once I step down?”

Suddenly, a lump grew in the back of Ahkmenrah’s throat, thick and painful, as his mind immediately filled with images of her. All the adoration he’d siphoned from his sister’s joy failed him; the pain in his heart too strong to be bested. His shoulders slouched, and his head was all at once too heavy to keep from hanging. He swallowed, forcing the lump away.

“Nensala, maybe. She and I sort of--” he paused, his nose wrinkling at the sour taste of his own words; he couldn’t even mask the expression on his face that made it blatantly clear he did not want to marry Nensala.

"We got along,” he husked out finally.

Set’s eyes riddled with a hint of sadness as she frowned.

“What about Nouke?”

The very sound of her name shot a chill down Ahkmenrah’s spine, and he shook his head, unable to look anywhere but the floor. His shame returning to him vehemently.

“I’m afraid my foolishness chased her away too. The hurt I caused her…” his voice trailed off, too easily recalling the way the spark faded in her eyes when he didn’t fight to keep her. “…I am undeserving of her.”

When he chanced a look to his sister, he was surprised to find her expression one of mild annoyance; slowly, she shook her head.

“You are a fool, Ahkmenrah,”

Ahk threw her a look of confusion and Set rolled her eyes.

“You give up so easily?” she chided. “Go to her—apologize.”

“Mother told me to do the same thing.”

“Then why are you still here wallowing?” Set asked, her brow hoisting high onto her forehead. “Apologize to her as you have done with me. Her affection may be wounded, but you can mend a wound. And usually, what grows back is stronger.”

His heart leaped into his throat—pounding excitedly. Hope could destroy him if he allowed it to settle too deeply; however, he yearned to have it.

“And if she turns me away?”

Setshepsut shrugged with a soft smile, “Then it is she that is undeserving of you, brother.”

A smile unfurled slowly on Ahkmenrah’s lips and his heart danced against the cage of his ribs.

“I cherish your wisdom, sister,” he told her, laying a kiss to her cheek. “Thank you.”

Set smirked with a teasing look of arrogance, tilting her head pointedly towards the entry, urging him to leave. Ahk lingered, gnawing his bottom lip, feeling the tingle of excitement mix with apprehension in his belly.

“Excuse me,” he finally declared. “But it is now my turn to run away to be with the one I love.”

Set’s simper pressed deeper, “Don’t hurry back!”

Next Chapter-> Chapter Twelve: How I Have Loved You

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