#but she made her choice of keeping me alive and forcing me to even pay for the hospital bill

[skinnypaleangryperson]

Life would have been so beautiful if people in this generation had decided to actually care about each other instead of arguing on apps all day. For example, I would be alive by 40. Lol

[f1ghtsoftly]

my head is scrambled but in Kate Manne’s “The Logic Of Misogyny” she put to words something I always, always knew was true.

Most of the time Men don’t hurt women for no reason, they punish women who assert themselves/their personhood. Misogynistic violence is a punishment, it’s a form of conditioning to get women to behave submissively towards men. To punish women for existing in public without male protection. To punish women for daring to think her intellect, athletic or artistic achievement could come before her sex.

I don’t present super femme anymore or hang around men outside my family basically ever-but when I did I was frequently targeted for sexual assault, usually by men who were frustrated they were attracted to me but couldn’t have me. They felt like I was taunting them-but asserting my right to exist as someone they were attracted to/without any sort of male protection or a male protection that didn’t involve sexual favors/submission. That wasn’t an accident, I’m sure if I meekly cowered behind a big boyfriend, I’m sure if I stayed inside, I’m sure if I didn’t assert myself as extraverted, intelligent, funny or charismatic those men would have left me alone-but that would have meant hiding myself from the world, hiding myself from other women and to me that was a bigger loss than a ‘lil danger. I made choices as a young person that I knew with certainty would bring me in closer proximity to men who wanted to hurt me, I decided that living a freer life was better than living a safe one. I don’t necessarily regret my assessment of patriarchy, I am sad that the price you pay for being an independent woman (in a social sense) in public is assault. I don’t blame women who think their safety is more important than making a statement. I’m sad for us both. I’m grateful I was able to find feminist communities because victimization isn’t just something casual you can shake off, even if it feels like men constantly target you/women in general.

Assault doesn’t just roll of your back either. It hurts. In the moment and for years afterwards it hurts. It’s always senseless. Always dehumanizing to the extreme. Always enraging. Always profoundly violating. Always a shock. I struggle to reconcile what I know about rape with what I know about people. I know people can be cruel, unthinking, insecure. I don’t know how someone can plot the rape of a friend or a stranger who has done nothing to deserve it. I don’t know how men can secretly tape their lovers, manipulate a young woman into sex she doesn’t want or do any of the things men do consistently or routinely. I don’t know how a boy could look at the face of his too drunk friend and go “this is my opportunity to have my way with her” instead of putting her to bed. Carelessness, thoughtless is easy to imagine. Conscious cruelty is not. Men know what they do and they either don’t care or like it.

I’m crying in a park in my Dad’s pickup truck. “There are worse things than this, you didn’t die-you’re alive” He says “this wasn’t your fault, I just want to keep you safe and what happened to you isn’t something I can control even though I wish I could”. “I’d feel better if you lived in Austin, because their self defense laws are better, there are lots of gay people there too”

He makes me laugh. I won’t move to Texas. He’s right, it’s not my fault, and helping me get better at self defense helps him feel like he can do something and while self defense does help-it’s not a perfect strategy. The misogynist’s prerogative is to snuff out the life force of the woman he interacts with, the only way to stop him from trying to do that is to become apart of the living dead. Even then, he’ll get your corpse.

There are worse things than rape in this life. A woman alive is better than a woman dead. I guess, but what life is it when constantly forced to battle for your right to live? When at a moments notice you can be filled from the inside out with death. Rotted from your insides out. I wish New York would let me have a gun. I wish I could make men afraid and polite in my presence the way I feel afraid and polite in theirs. I’m so tired of this.

[secularprolifeconspectus]

Hello! Sorry if it’s too political, but how do you think reproductive rights will change for women as Trump became a president again? Is it THAT bad or you think it’s mostly propaganda from mainstream media?

And what will change about abortions? Will they be banned or maybe some reforms? Is it better for pro-life movement or not? I’d be glad to hear your thoughts!

Great questions! This is a very political blog, so no worries about that lol.

I doubt that the reproductive landscape will change much because of Trump directly. He and Melania have both made it fairly clear that they are pro-choice (Melania explicitly in her memoir; Trump through his support of the abortion pill, opposition to a federal abortion ban, support of embryo destruction in IVF, and distaste of first-trimester state bans. Oh, and also the *rapist misogynist* thing). Now, what our GOP-lead senate will do? That's a little more promising, and frightening.

I strongly doubt that Trump (or even Republicans) will try to ban birth control/contraception, or to regulate sterilization; and if they do, they likely won't do it successfully. Those simply aren't popular takes. He might take a whack at surrogacy though, and he'll probably keep expanding the coercive power of the domestic infant adoption industry. It's also doubtful that he will do anything to support birth justice, especially in POC communities; if anything, his healthcare policies will probably cause further reproductive care deserts. And his immigration policies will cause thousands of abortions among refugees. It would be nice if he actually helped tackle sex trafficking. Maybe he will help protect pregnancy resource centers.

Trump seems pretty disgusted by later abortion, so he may swing his weight to help push through some state-level limitations. I hope he puts his money where his mouth is and signs off on the Born Alive Abortions Survivors Act, which will give the Born Alive Infant Protection Act some enforcement power to mandate life-saving care for abortion survivors. And perhaps he'll be vocal about regulations to end the dissection of live micropremies for research. If he's really as disturbed by "after-birth abortions" as he says he is, he'll support these initiatives.

My biggest hope is that he'll follow through on his word and pardon the abortion rescuers in prison, and that he'll rally his people to repeal the FACE Act, and then that he'll make a fuss about a congressional hearing for the DC Five. Those would be game-changers. We could actually bring back Rescue and get Justice for the Five.

Overall, is Trump better for the pro-life movement than a different right-winger? No, I think he's done massive damage to the reputation of the movement that will take years to overcome. The public doesn't trust us because of him. We must cut ties with Trumpism if we ever want to see a nonpartisan, popular pro-life movement. (We write about this in our book, btw.)

But is Trump better for the movement than Kamala? I'd say so. Kamala exhibited, not the least through her treatment of David Daleiden, but also through her remarks, that she was more than willing to suppress freedom of speech, press, and religion to protect Big Abortion. As well as to take away conscience protections for medical providers, and to eliminate the Hyde Amendment, thus not only forcing people to commit human rights violations, but also to pay for them through their taxes. That all sounds like fascism to me.

So, I'm aggrieved to have an overt fascist like Trump as our incoming president. He's going to get people killed and to ruin lives, and be an incompetent embarrassment for four years, no doubt. He does put democracy in danger. But, perhaps his overt threat will be enough to incite the people to organize against his fascism. Had Kamala won, I believe the people would have settled into complacency and accepted her covert fascism with open arms. I was truly terrified of this election, no matter the results. America has chosen the familiar threat.

If there's any other facets of reproductive justice that I missed and you want to hear about, feel free to send another ask.

[the-elder-polls]

Ok, so Esper Ironhand started out as the character I did actually get to play for a while in the same messy dnd campaign as the Healer who became Leitav. Esper was originally a Cisco woman, before sliding into gender ambiguity, and I gave that poor gal the saddest backstory like it was a competition (it kinda was, we were all seeing who could make the dm cry)

In Skyrim, Esper keeps a good bit of that backstory in that the story begins in a literal underground forced fighting ring at a very young age, with no memory of life before the Pit. Esper was adopted by a slightly older Argonian kid, who did her best to at least keep Esper alive and fighting, and in the end Esper did the same for a Khajiit kid a little younger.

The fighters in the Pits were all the so-called beast races, at least according to the Racial Philiogeny and The Pig Children crowd, Khajiit and Argonians and Orcs (maybe like a Lamia or two? Goblins?)

The three were nearly full grown (Esper was over six foot) when they became eligible to be put in the tournament for Champion, which supposedly leads to freedom (they take you out of the Pits anyway, though what it actually leads to, even I don't know). Esper was put up against the Khajiit, Stoneclaw, and tried to pull punches and let him win, even though it was a fight to the death. The consequences of holding back like you are a real person who gets to make actual choices were...bad. Stoneclaw died, and Esper nearly did. So after recovering and getting put back in, Esper didn't hesitate again when put against the Argonian of the trio, Hope-in-Darkness. Hope may have, but she was always a little more dexterous and sneaky, so it didn't show.

And after that, after Esper became Champion, but Champion alone, there was no point to going free by the Master's way, so Esper waited until it was almost over and broke his neck, then ran for the river running through the caverns that they used to dispose of bodies. It turned out to lead to freedom rather than back to Stoneclaw and Hope, so Esper became a wandering sellsword, but without the sword part, refusing to use any weapons after having been chained to a blade for so long.

If you know the story Inigo tells about how he betrayed and tried to murder his partner while addicted to skooma? Yeah that was actually Esper, who fled the scene before he could come back, and wound up taking a ship all the way to Dawnstar and wandering the snowfields still kid of out of it from the head injury until being attacked by bandits and left for dead (Alternate Start Live Another Life mod). Since it put me at Alftand for that, I made my way up to the Shrine of Azura where Aranea helped me and called me Champion(?!), and so the adventure begins.

Esper had to head to Winterhold and then Solitude on foot, and taking the dock gate into Solitude on a day when it was sleeting lead to finding Sofie actually frozen to the pavement and instantly becoming a parent, even if finding an actual house took longer. Then a carriage ride to Whiterun (and finding a hideout on the city outskirts because I have the Dragons Den house mod) brought Lucia into the family too, and then taking another carriage down to Falkreath to strike out north for Illinata's Deep (must pay back the debt to Aranea, daedra prince nonsense or no) lead to Gore, and the family begins to take shape.

Esper is an absolute unit of an Orc, and I have had unnecessary amounts of fun playing with size tweaks and comparison shots

Lore for your enjoyment, anyway

i am doing this to esper

[sparklz02]

Love Like Cherry Blossom

Chapter 4: ‘How To Build A Fortress?’ For Dummies

“I’ll be the one in charge of interrogations tomorrow and arrest the suspect on the spot.”

____________________________________________________________________________

Once again you found yourself in Ritou. This time, however, no book in hand. Only a pouch filled with mora and an instruction from your dearest older brother forcing you to go out and actually socialize.

You were very upset and just stood there bewildered in the center of the plaza unsure of what to do. This was your actual first time having to find some form of social activity by yourself. You were not sure why you were even forced to be there, you had to worry about interrogations later in the day!

‘I hope that big idiot knows what he is doing…’

You inspected the stalls to see what they had to offer but nothing really caught your interest. You noticed some cute omamori’s at a stall. You did not waste any time or give a second thought and decided to buy four charms. You found them cute and if William were to ask for more reason then it would be because of their meaning.

“He can’t say anything since he forced me here anyway…” You muttered.

“Oh my, you made some great choices in design. Are they for people you know?”

You jumped in surprise and saw none other than the daughter of the Kanjou commissioner. She took a step back after seeing your reaction. “Oh, my deepest apologies. I didn't mean to startle you but it seems that I did…”

The sudden appearance of the daughter of the Kanjou commission was unexpected. Many months have been used to hunt her down but to no avail. Despite her appearance being present, a small feeling was tugging at you, saying that this predicament was too real to be true…

But who listens to their gut feeling right?

“No, no! I should have been more aware of my surroundings…! I…um…” You looked down unsure of what to say.

‘Ok Y/n…this is my chance to befriend her..! But what do I say…? Ah, let’s start with greetings!’

You cleared your throat and looked back up with confidence, “Who are you?”

It seemed as if everything was now frozen in time. The commissioner's daughter only stared at you in surprise. You began sweating profusely and scolded yourself for the dumb question.

‘Oh my archons did I really just say that!? How the fu–’

“My name is Hiiragi Chisato. Most know me due to my father being the head of the Hiiragi clan and as the Kanjou commissioner.” She answers nonchalantly.

You quickly jumped in to try and save face. “I-is that so! Well nice to meet you Lady Hiiragi! My name is Y/n and…I am from the Rin family. What brings you here…?”

Chisato giggles. “There’s no need to be nervous. I am just taking a bit of a stroll around Ritou since my schedule is cleared up for the day.”

“I see…Well um…” You looked over towards the stall. “I will um…go over and pay for these now. I hope you enjoy your day!” You quickly walked towards the front desk of the stall and continued with your purchase. When you walk out you noticed that Chisato was no longer there and sighed.

‘Well there goes my chance of befriending a future commissioner…’

“This is why I refuse to socialize…” You mumbled disappointedly.

“Because you don’t have much experience?”

You were once again startled by Hiiragi Chisato. She was standing next to you and held a curious look and giggled again for startling you. You placed your left hand on top of your heart to calm yourself, her jumpscare was so effective that you were sure your heart was going to jump out.

“Hehe, happy to see me~?” She teases.

You were not sure what to say. You were too startled to pick up the conversation and looked away embarrassed. Chisato tilts her head in confusion, “Oh my, I’ve really done it now? Apologies once more, it’s a bad habit of mine popping out of nowhere…”

A strained smile graces your face while a lie slips through to keep the flow of the conversation alive. “No, no, no! Again…I should have been more aware!”

Chisato began to think deeply after noticing your uneasiness. “Hmm…as an apology, let me invite you for some food? It’s about to be lunch time, right?”

You gave the offer some thought and weighed your options. On one hand, a powerful figure in Inazuma is right there with you, practically handed to you by the universe on a silver platter. But for some reason, things were going too smoothly for your liking.

‘Might as well…it’s now or never for this to happen…’

“I accept your offer Lady Hiiragi.”

She beamed with joy and quickly entangled her right arm with your left. She began walking away from the plaza which surprised you. Many thoughts began to run through your mind, each becoming more crazy than the last driving your sanity to the edge. “Where are we going Lady-”

“You don’t have to refer to me as ‘Lady’, Chisato is fine~. Ah, and we are going to the Hiiragi estate!” She says cheerfully.

Anxiety hijacked your mind. You thought you were going to a food stall or a restaurant, not the Hiiragi estate. You cursed William under your breath for forcing you to socialize.

As the Hiiragi estate came into view, your anxiety kept rising to no end. You forced yourself to a stop, making Chisato also stop and look at you worriedly. “Is…everything alright?”

You were sweating bullets, clearly in a state of panic. You tried tugging your arm away from her but for some reason her grip onto your arm was very firm. “W-we don’t have to eat a-at your place! I’m v-very satisfied with j-just–”

She tightened her grip even further and forced you to take a few steps her way. “Nonsense! I must give you the best, now let’s hurry along now~!”

🫧🔎🫧

The luncheon was, to say the least… nerve-wracking for you but Chisato seemed fine. You felt like the maids judged you and questioned why their Lady brought in a common person for a formal lunch.

The meal was fine, it consisted of udon noodles, sweet shrimp sushi, konda cuisine, with a bowl of rice, and saké. Chisato had managed to maintain a conversation with your dry responses and it only made you feel bad and take notes to better improve.

Chisato placed down her chopsticks and places her head on her right hand and asks, “I’ve heard the guards chatter about a young lady coming down to the plaza and just read. They say she keeps to herself and doesn’t cause any problems and well…I took interest~. Tell me, why do you come down here to Ritou for?”

You placed your chopsticks down and focused on her. You placed your hands on top of your lap and held them tightly, “Well…my older brother just wants me to socialize. That’s all really…I bring a book to avoid any form of social interaction and it seems like he managed to find out���” You say nervously.

Chisato hums and looks at her saké with a bored expression, “You say that you’re from the Rin family correct? I have many questions but most importantly…” She looks back at you. “Are you by chance the killer in that household?” She says with a smile on her face.

Your blood ran cold but immediately rushed hot in anger. You held your hands tighter to calm yourself. You hardened your gaze and reply seriously with a hint of anger, “I am not the killer Lady Hiiragi. If your intention was to grab some intel on me and report it to the Tenryou commission then by all means keep on asking. I have nothing to hide.”

Chisato leans back, straightens her back, and places her hands on top of the table, “You are indeed a clever Lady. I was indeed asked by the proxy of the Kujou clan to grab some information about you. As you can see I’m not fit for this type of task so I failed to keep it discreet hehe~.”

You looked down on your lap to avoid her gaze. Chisato notices that you are uncomfortable. “I’m sorry I ruined this luncheon. Maybe I could–”

“No. No need for apologies.” You looked up to meet her conflicted gaze and before she could speak, you got up. “Thank you for inviting me to this luncheon. I am going back to the Rin estate, have a wonderful day, Lady Hiiragi.”

You bowed and turned to leave the estate but Chisato managed to quickly grab your right wrist. You quickly turned around to yank your wrist away but you were met with her guilty expression. You sighed in annoyance and looked away. “You have three minutes…”

She tightened her grip and wasted no time in revealing her intentions, “I’m truly sorry if I ever offended you. It’s just that the Yahsiro and Kanjou commission knows about the situation and we are tasked to help with the investigation in any way we could. Even the Shogun herself has asked how dire the situation was!”

“The Shogun? Why would she…”

“I’m unsure myself. I assume that ever since the abolishment of the vision hunt and sakokou decree she has desired to be more engaging with Inazuma…but besides that! Is there any way I can make up for my mistake? I truly wish to be friends and get to know each other better!”

‘Checkmate…’

You turned around to properly look at her. You knew from the look on her face that she was being sincere and let out a sigh. “Well…all I ask is that you support my brother William in his path to becoming the head of the Rin estate.”

Chisato loosened her grip and confusion was written all over her face, “Your brother? Is there any reason…? Is there anything I can do for you?”

“I am aiding him into becoming the new head of the Rin family. I do not crave for any power. As for the reason, it’s a promise that I made to myself. I don’t really need anything honestly…”

She grabs both of your hands and clasps them together, “Very well, I will support him. As for you, you also have my unconditional support if you need anything. Especially now during these times with the Tenryou commission…”

You gave her a gentle smile, “Thank you. I’m also sorry for getting upset…I should’ve kept my cool but instead…”

“No, no, no, no! It is all on me for asking such question especially during a luncheon session…but…must you really go?”

She had a puppy face begging for you not to leave and you tried so hard to say yes. In the end you gave in and stayed for awhile longer around the Hiiragi estate. You two discussed about your hobbies, likes and dislikes, a quick shopping spree, doing flower arrangements, and enjoyed some sencha tea.

Evening arrived and you had to leave so as not to worry everyone. Chisato was a bit sad, “It’s unfortunate that you must leave…I’ll have one of the Kanjou guards take you back!”

“You don’t have to Lady–”

“It’s Chisato. Now you will accept the guard, I cannot let anything happen to you on your journey back. Now off you go and come back whenever you have the time~.”

Before she could continue pushing you off to begin your walk, you grabbed onto her hand and quickly handed her an omamori. You quickly mutter, “May you be blessed and protected by the Shogun.” and quickly ran off not giving a chance for her to say something.

Chisato watches your figure quickly leaving her line of sight and giggles, “She’s so cute~.”

🫧🔎🫧

The journey back was not as boring as you had initially thought. You made some small chatter with the guard and he responded back but never initiated, probably due to status difference. You could also assume that the guy probably was not interested in small chatter, probably the ‘let me do my job’ type of guard. You ceased your attempts of making the journey back bearable and instead resorted to recall the events that have unfolded.

‘To think it was so easy to gain her support….I was a bit straightforward and that would have ruined everything.’

You looked at the guard briefly before going back to your own thoughts.

‘The other two may be a bit difficult…but since she has connections with the proxy of the Kujou clan who is in line for the Tenryou head position…’

You smirked and silently let out a cheer of victory.

‘Things are suddenly taking a turn for the better I suppose~. William will be so proud! Well, he should be anyways less he wants me to purposely ruin his chances...’

The Rin estate began to be visible to your line of sight. You could only scrunch up your face in disgust, you hated living there. Collete, William, and Elias were the ones who have made it bearable to live in but nothing will stop the universe from sending annoying obstacles your way.

And just as it so happens, you saw two guards who were wearing the symbol of the Tenryou commission. They stood guard in front of the Rin estate entrance and you only groaned inwardly, silently cursing the universe for this unfortunate encounter.

You turned to face the Kanjou guard and gestured for him to be dismissed. However he stood his ground and replied. “I was instructed to ensure that you return safely to the Rin estate. I will leave once I know you walk in without issues Miss.”

You felt touched by his words but quickly reminded yourself that he is only doing it out of duty and not by will. You let out a quiet sigh and began walking towards the entrance of the Rin estate. As you were trying to enter the estate, the two guards quickly barred your entrance with their polearms. “We apologize but the estate and its residence are under investigation. Visitors are not permitted.” Said the left guard.

Plastering a smile on your face, masking your tantrum that is being ensued inside your mind, you replied, “I am not a visitor sir. I’m also a resident of this…family and I am only returning from an outing.”

The left guard looks warily at the right guard, silently pleaing for assistance. The right guard only shrugged and stepped to the side. The left guard only sighed and stood firmly in his place. “I’m afraid that I cannot let you in. For all we know you could be an imposter—”

“She’s not an imposter.”

You peered behind you to see the same Kanjou guard now standing behind you.

“She was with Lady Hiiragi this morning and they both spent the day together. I can vouch that she is indeed a resident, she always comes to Ritou to take a look around.”

The guard still looks hesitant, as he opens his mouth to reply back someone from inside quickly interrupted him. “It seems you finally decided to join us…” The guard jolted and quickly moved to the side, opening a path to the person behind him.

Head held high in pride and authority, each step emitting an commanding presence. The two guards quickly fixed their posture and stood tall. The Kanjou guard behind you also mimicked their actions.

‘I would be lying if I said that I am not afraid…but even then…’

You were now met face to face with her fierce gaze. Both of your visions glowed in anticipation of this newfound tension. She stood tall and proud, eyeing you up and down suspiciously. You greeted her with the famous noble smile that hid it’s true fangs. She scoffed and crossed her arms.

‘I won’t stand down…!’

“Did no one inform you of today’s interrogations? Or perhaps you believed you could get away from it by running away temporarily? Are you even taking this case seriously?”

You glanced to see the guard behind you and silently prayed and returned your gaze towards the general and bowed. “Forgive me, I was scheduled to meet with Lady Hiiragi today. She insisted that I join her during a luncheon and spend the day with her, who am I to refuse?”

She narrowed her eyes in suspicion, “If it was for a luncheon, why did you leave so early? We were already here before breakfast even started. There’s no reason for you to leave at such a time.”

Maintaining your posture, “I wanted to greet the Lady properly by buying her a gift. It was my first time having an outing with someone else. Is it so wrong to make a good impression, general?”

She scoffed and looked behind you, “You there, what is your connection with her?” She commanded. The Kanjou guard gave a quick bow and replied, “I am a guard from the Kanjou commission Madam Kujou. I was with the Lady as her guard instructed by my Lady to ensure her safe journey back to the estate.”

Kujou eyed the guard, inspecting him to make sure he was speaking the truth. She lets out an irritated sigh, “Such a clever one aren’t you?”

You straighten your posture and look at her wondering what she meant. She noticed your curiosity and crossed her arms and looked behind the two guards. She gave them a nod and they quickly stood beside you, aiming their polearms at you. You only raised an eyebrow in amusement and let out a light chuckle.

“You won’t keep laughing once you hear this,” You only yawn, uninterested with what is going to happen. “For neglecting your duty of being present for the interrogation, insubordination, and prime suspect of the murders of the Rin family���”

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

“I hereby order that Rin Y/n to be placed under house arrest until clear of all charges.”

[To Be Continued 🔎]

[richincolor]

Book Review: Better Must Come

Title: Better Must Come

Author:  Desmond Hall

Genres:  Contemporary

Pages: 336

Publisher: Atheneum/Caitlyn Dlouhy Books

Review Copy: ARC by publisher

Availability: Available now

Summary: Deja is a “barrel girl”—one of the Jamaican kids who get barrels full of clothes, food, and treats shipped to them from parents who have moved to the US or Canada to make more money. Gabriel is caught up in a gang and desperate for a way out. When he meets Deja at a party, he starts looking for a way into her life and wonders if they could be a part of each other’s futures.

Then, one day while out fishing, Deja spies a go-fast boat stalled out by some rocks, smeared with blood. Inside, a badly wounded man thrusts a knapsack at her, begging her to deliver it to his original destination, and to not say a word. She binds his wounds, determines to send for help, and make good on her promise…not realizing that the bag is stuffed with $500,000 American. Not realizing that the posse Gabriel is in will stop at nothing to get their hands on this bag—or that Gabriel’s and her lives will intersect in ways neither ever imagined, as they both are forced to make split second choices to keep the ones they love most alive.

Review: Just by reading the synopsis I learned a bit more about Jamaican life so I was interested in the novel. I had never heard of the concept of the “barrel girl” before so learning that aspect about Deja intrigued me. And as I learned more about Deja and her point of view of being a “barrel girl” I was actually saddened by it. Deja’s mother had only recently left her and had only sent one barrel home so Deja was still learning how to be on her own. Deja as two younger siblings, so despite being a child herself still in school, Deja is also essentially a parent. She has to use the money her mom sends her to pay the bills, which unfortunately is often not enough, so she goes out fishing with her Uncle (and sometimes by herself) to make extra money. I hated this for her, but it did show how resilient Deja was so when the action of the story really begins, you know she will do what she can to succeed. 

Better Must Come starts off a bit slow as Desmond Hall is giving a bit of backstory to establish both Deja’s and Gabriel’s desires for their lives and to show their first meeting. This bit threw me as I had thought the two had already had a small romance going, when in fact it was the opposite, so to me, the “romance” angle feel a bit flat. They didn’t have enough time to really interact before the main action of the story so the supposed tension between the two didn’t come across on the page. Essentially, Deja is running from Gabriel throughout most of the novel. When they do eventually meet up, both are truthful about their intentions which was refreshing for a novel. The actually communicated with each other - granted they were both fighting for their lives at that point, but because they were so honest with each other they were able to team up together and “save the day.”

Overall I can’t say whether I loved the book or not. I just had this feeling of….melancholy (?) when I finished because even though the book ends on a good note, both Deja’s and Gabriel’s lives are completely upended and I felt so sorry for them. They “won”, so to speak, but it did come at a cost which made for a realistic ending and is probably why I feel the way I do about the book.  

[eeveearoace-creative]

i. set out to write something, and it honestly wasn't this, but this is what came out anyway. so.

enjoy :3

cw: blood, death, nightmares, guilt, possession, did i mention blood?

OH! also - this was fueled by something @arcadiii just wrote, so. everybody go read all their stuff lol

you’ve had this dream before. 

the sword is yanked backwards and she falls, limp as a ragdoll as she crumples to the cold, tile floor. this never hurts any less. 

you hear screaming. you’re sure who it came from – you, your friend (if she even is your friend anymore), or someone else entirely – but it doesn’t matter, not when one of the loves of your life is lying motionless, alone, as blood gushes from the new, open wound in her chest, pooling around her tiny body. 

you aren’t sure when you started running, but you certainly are now, moving as quickly as you can towards the lifeless body of the girl you loved oh so much, who will never know how much she meant to you, who you should protected, who died because you weren’t strong enough. all you want is to hold her, to tell her that she’s loved, that you love her – that she’s going to be okay, she’s okay, you’ll make her okay, you promise. 

but you never reach her. the faster you run, the farther apart you drift from one another, the smell of burning flesh and blood filling your nostrils. she doesn’t so much as flinch as you call, scream her name, desperate to hold her in your arms and keep her safe from dangers she couldn’t detect, because she’s always been so trusting, so naïve, so gentle, so kind... all the things you love about her. that’s why you had to keep her safe. 

but you failed. and now she’s dying, alone, and there’s nothing you can do. if given the chance, you would’ve give your life to protect her, to protect them. but you never got that chance. instead, she did, and she saved you, both of you, but she paid a price she never should’ve had to pay. she didn’t deserve this. 

she always was so much braver than you ever gave her credit for. 

you wish you had told her everything when you had the chance. you wish you hadn’t gone along with this stupid rebellion – no, you wish you hadn’t caused this stupid rebellion. maybe if you hadn’t, you would’ve realized he was bad news sooner. maybe if you hadn’t, you would’ve been able to convince her that something was wrong. maybe if you hadn’t, she would still be alive. 

but you’re stuck with the horrible choices you’ve made, and there’s nothing you can do to fix them. 

this time, the dream continues longer than normal. this time, you actually reach the broken body of the girl who didn’t deserve this, didn’t deserve to die, and your fingers brush her cold, paling skin. 

this time, she reacts to you, and she turns around. 

“sasha,” she whispers, blood spilling past her lips as her body tremors, twitching as her body gives its last, final, desperate spasms, “i’m sorry... i’m so, so sorry...” she coughs up blood. “please, help me...” 

she collapses into your arms, wheezing and coughing up blood. you try to speak, because doesn’t she understand that this is your fault, not hers? doesn’t she understand that she’s dying because of you? doesn’t she understand that no matter what she did, she would never deserve this? 

you try to comfort her, to tell her that everything’s going to be okay, that she’s going to be okay, but you can’t force your mouth to move. you want to, need to tell her you love her, because you can’t lose her, not again, not like this. 

she goes still. so does the world. 

you wail. you aren’t allowed to be vulnerable like this, but what does it matter? one of you is stuck on another planet, and the other is dead – there’s no-one left to protect, and you’ll never be three again. 

your hands sticky with blood, you rock your love’s corpse back and forth, like you believe that’ll somehow bring her back, but it won’t, and you know it. she’s gone. 

abrupt laughter breaks you out of your thoughts. your heart leaps, and even though the laughter sounds wrong, it’s coming from beside you, coming from her. the laughter sounds wrong, but you barely pay that any mind, because if she’s laughing, that means she’s- 

orange eyes split out of her skin, too many and glowing and all staring at you, and if her laughter sounded a bit odd before, this was full-on insanity. a too-wide smile tugs at her lips, and it breaks you, because something tells you that isn’t really the girl you love. 

“see you soon, sashy,” it purrs, and this is wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong- 

you wake up in a cold sweat. 

there’s blood on your hands. 

[ainulindaelynn]

WIP Game: ACO 7, 8, and 9 please??

Ahhhh, the ones I wrote first and am dying to publish xD

Unfortunately, they rely on earlier details to some degree, so I'm holding back for now. There's 60k+ words sitting among those at present and more I'd love to do with every single one of them.

This'll be lengthy since it's three!

----------

ACO 7 - Underworld

This is a complete rewrite of that segment. It isn't Aletheia who sends her there though; it's Pythagoras (the shitty dad we all know him to be), who wants that artifact from Cerberos. This is the bit that started my ACO writing... It came together in my head WAY before I finished the game and knew the details, so originally it was a workaround for the First Blade DLC. I felt if Ubi really wanted to force the issue, was a more obvious answer to the lineage question and we were going subterranean anyway... 👀

I've since changed course on that completely (redeemed Deimos gets to do the Macedonia DLC later, bypassing the issue), but its still a very smutty, sentimental, angsty piece, where she and Brasidas finally come to terms (too late) with what's between them. They're both able to help a LOT with each other's healing journeys and he gives her a tool that readies her for her confrontation with Deimos. Phoibe is also central to this one <3

A snippet:

"You don't know what a shield means, so don't lecture me on it," he snapped, tone suddenly vicious. "You've never been in the phalanx, knowing in your bones what's staked on it holding - on the one beside you holding. 'Foot beside foot, resting shield against shield, crest beside crest, helm beside helm'," he quoted, every word rising from the bedrock of his being. Then his voice softened in a way she hated to hear and when she glanced up his eyes were sharp. "I'll never forget the day they first handed it to me. I was a boy; it was as tall as I was. My commander told me, 'To hold this up is to hold up Sparta. Drop it, and Sparta falls'."

She shook her head, furious.

More of the same propaganda that threw innocent children from Taygetos and raised their killer a hero.

His voice was stern. "How many of my men died at Amphipolis?"

"You were the last. The seventh. The Athenians lost six-hundred."

He nodded, dismissive.

"And how many have fallen since?"

Her eyes narrowed, sensing the trap.

"I can't make you understand the way it is in the lists," he growled, stalking toward and around her, "but those men were mine. And I was theirs. I had sworn myself to them. Six Spartans and six-hundred Athenians, you say? It was by my command that they lived at Amphipolis. That was my responsibility to them. I made the decisions that kept them alive. I've seen each of those cross the river Styx alone. And I'll see countless more before this war is done. And that is my failure. I let my shield fall and they are the ones who will pay for it with their lives.

She shook her head, trying to understand. "You can't blame yourself for dying, Brasidas."

"I can," he said, voice sharp, "because I didn't do it for them. And I would make that same choice again, even against my oath." The anger left his tone then. "That is why I'm here, Kassandra."

----------

ACO 8 - The End

This one ties together the game's Family and Cult endings. I always felt really weird about the fact that Deimos just sits at home while you finish the other storyline. It's a quick rewrite of the Taygetos scene, adding layers from my personal Athens captivity portion and my background mental health and trauma-recovery. Then there's a brief split while Kassandra finds her last cultist (and Alexios spends time with Myrinne), and then they come together, travel to Delphi, and take on Aspasia as a pair. This sets the stage for the relationship they build going forward.

A snippet:

She’d been keeping an eye on him all afternoon, watching the restless tension of his body like a rope frayed down to its last strand, hopelessly taut and precarious. For her, every mile away from Phokis brought her down by a notch, but for Alexios it seemed to have no effect. At times she even worried it was worsening, waiting for some excuse to snap. 

“He looks like a wild boar…,” Barnabas said quietly, uncharacteristically. 

It seemed she’d finally found the one thing that tempered the man’s boisterous nature - fearing being overhead by the god of terror himself. She smiled at the thought.

“…Like one snap of a twig and the first unlucky bastard in his path will be sent skyward with his entrails on the outside of his body.”

She raised her eyebrows, amusement overshadowed by a long, contemplative exhale.

----------

ACO 9 - Post-Game

This one is all about family. Kassandra comes home to find her footing, finally processing everything, and stays with Alexios as he struggles to find himself in the absence of his entire identity. They become very close, despite the rawness of their relationship.

There are also some obstacles here, for example, Sparta sees only Deimos, the child they rightly rejected. He is an enemy and a lone wolf in collectivist Sparta, a tension Kassandra feels as well. Nikolaos also makes his return to Sparta and comes under the kings' judgement to atone for his desertion nearly a decade earlier. It's all very messy.

A snippet:

"I aimed at him to strike at you," Alexios said slowly, enunciating each word as if he were sharpening a blade, stroke by stroke, and watching to see what he evoked. "I want you to hear that. I need you to know it was personal."

Time slowed between them, frozen in the silence. She could feel every muscle in her body coiled tight at the confession.

In that silence he continued, each word carefully considered. "And at Pylos, when you leaped to defend him, you were like the goddess herself, full of righteous wrath. I knew it was true after that. And I slaughtered him for it - slaughtered him to get to you."

His posture was soft despite the words.

"Why are you telling me this?" she hissed.

"I don't want secrets between us, sister. If this is to work, there can be no secrets. Or at least there can be no lies." His eyes were gentle, his shoulders hung low, arms crossed as he leaned back against the stones.

She looked away, scanning out across the view. Her eyes closed for a second, breathing deeply.

"Who was he to you?" he asked again, this time more gently.

—————

WIP List is here for anyone interested :)

[godstaff]

What do you like about Superman in general? Or at least what drew you to Superman?

When I was a little kid, I was thrilled by the idea of flying. Since I didn't know anything about couples, I was accepting the romance with Lane at face value. I was six and in love with the prettiest girl of my classroom, and she treated everybody like shit and beneath her, so I assumed that Lois attitude was normal in every woman. Now I wonder if Lork fans are in reality little kids, but their viciousness and dirty tactics showed me they are just shitty people.

He is conscious of the great sacrifice the Kents did and the huge love they gave him and he is grateful and fearful he will never be able to pay them back in kind, so he tries to live according to their teachings and moral values. No matter how far in space he is, they always are with him. He extended their love to the whole human species they taught him to love.

He's a godlike individual, with his powers and all, but he tries to stay down to Earth, humble and hard working.

He finally ditched the stupid secret identity. I don't know how it happened, but I'm glad it did. I suggested it several years before it miraculously finally occured.

He said Justice League is not to take humanity to the finish line but to help us when we stumble and fall along the way.

He's loyal to a tee.

He's a positive role model for humans and superheroes as well.

He deserves better writers.

He's the most powerful, but he never refuses help or hesitates to ask for it, He also never denies his help.

He tries hard not to kill, but he has done it when there was literary no other choice or outcome. He's not delusional about it.

He never presumes he has the right to tell others what to do.

He feels he lives in a world made of tissue paper, but still enjoys living among humans.

He willingly sacrifice himself for justice, truth and peace if he has to.

He has voluntarily abandon Earth when he became a danger to others in multiple occasions. Only when he was absolutely positive the peril was over and he was in the clear, he dared to come back.

In spite of being one of the handful of survivers of his lost planet, he keeps its people's culture alive in his Fortress.

He deserves better writers.

He's optimistic even if the odds are against him by far.

He inspires everyone around him.

His smile is his way of saying "Relax, everything is gonna be alright."

He, like Diana, is a hero by choice, not forced by a personal tragedy.

He trusts everyone implicitly. Sometimes he shouldn't.

Far from thinking of himself as infalible, he gave others the weapons to nullify him if he goes rogue.

He sees a brilliant future for humanity and works alongside us to make it so.

He deserves better writers.

As with Diana, these are only part of the reasons.

[unabashedly-faulty]

I have definitely switched. A few times.

On main at that.

Curses.

How is this possible lmao.

Also earlier I knew parts were shifting around because nothing felt connected to our vices. The music I know we made to encourage us was Nakomasssss ohhhhhh (had a mid sentence epiphany) and she gone so the music doesn’t speak to us as much. At least her choices. The playlist has some of our stuff on it from these present partsss sooooooooooo my fucking gosh. I’m getting better at this.

Cloudy Day- Emolita/Trish

Mood - Trish/Viv(Akasha)/Chris

Vibe - Caprie

✨ - Caprie

Okay the bad bitches are here. Understand. To feel the connection to music I’ve gotta play y’all’s stuff. Bad bitches equal the more protective parts. The confident parts. The vibes.

It is so massive what neuropathways become inactive when parts switch out the action panel. Stella showed me when I was driving how to detect a major switch and that is when I feel untethered. When my cells do not react to the music. It is literally what saves us every time. The music. What makes us feel like we are alive.

Please remind me to play the music when the horrors come. I think asking might help. Asking myself. My brain. Which is the center of my system. My brain went through so much to build masks to keep me safe that untangling us might never happen. And I want myself to know that is okay.

I forced you to learn and change and grow because our life depended on it. Our son’s life depended on it. His joy and happiness depended on it. Ours did too. But our brain was not supposed to work so hard so fast. It’s unnatural. And there was damage done on top of everything we’d thought damaged us already. There’s a 5 year span for us to relive. It’s gonna be painful. Idk how it will present but lately it’s attached to certain things. It’s all mixed up. There’s an inclination to let it flow without the need to fix parts. That I need to let you all feel it and have the emotional expression you need. Without jumping to save you.

Wait so de we each have to save ourselves now? Will that take pressure off of our brain? Reduce our symptoms? If we each get the healing specific to us, the love specific to us individually?

That is the consensus as I’ve observed your interactions with the support system.

Also maybe not save ourselves. Is having support counterproductive to us? We’ve built this defense up and not we have people, do we count on them? Is it okay to count and then not?

Hmm. I think so because we are capable of helping ourselves but it’s nice to practice reaching out too. We’ve perfected or maybe submitted our rejection response. I hope we don’t pay for that. Is feeling rejected healthy? Because I put that away in 2019, in 2016 too when people told us he cheated on us. You know what you’re fucking bad ass. When the green monster came up in 2016 after you heard that you literally YEEETED it out and idk if normal people can do that. You looked at your baby once the “check his phone and what does she looks like” voices entered the chat. That was a really significant moment and we didn’t even know we were a system. Our baby needed us. We are really a ball of fucking love bro. Was fighting mental illness and still had to mother and run a house and go to work and deal with devastation of heartbreak and abuse.

#thankyouforyourgenes because you’re good for nothing else. May our sun never become anything like you.

So manyyy thoughts. Glad we’re all still here. This helps me better meet our needs of comfort.

[minniepetals]

cry me a river | the thorns of a rose

— summary: loyalty means to have full allegiance and faithfulness owned by a duty, a pledge, or a promise. and the reapers��� loyalty lies much deeper than that

— pairing: bts x reader

— genre: angst, mafia!au

— word count: 5.6k

— warnings: mentions of breaking, emotional trauma, implied sexual harassment/abuse, implied forceful age-gap relationship (we're getting to more dark stuff here so please read at your own discretion, PLEASE)

— PART 11 / previous part / masterpost

“They say she’s the actual Grim Reaper herself.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“She’s on a rampage, going around killing anyone who has done her wrong. She’s already taken out Gwon Daejung!”

“Grim reapers go around collecting souls, she’s out here trying to collect the heads of all her enemies!”

“Surely that’s an exaggeration.”

“That monster killed her own father to get the throne.”

“What if we’re next?”

Knock, knock, knock.

A click of the door opens and he stares in horror at the said Reaper who’s out to collect the heads of all her enemies. With a smirk plastered on her face, hands resting behind her, and a flicking shine from the scythe earrings she wears, he can feel the beat of his heart drumming hard against his chest.

“Hello there, Mr. Choi,” you greet with a sinister expression resting well on your face, “it seems death has just knocked on your door. Would you mind giving me the pleasure of taking your life?”

.

.

.

“Why did you call me, Namjoon? You do know that I’m a pretty busy woman, don’t you? I have heads to sever and hearts to stab out.”

“Seems you’ve become quite the bloodthirsty mobster.”

You shrug lightly at his comment, adjusting the black gloves in your hands that are tainted with blood. “Well, life is pretty cruel to women so there’s quite a lot of people whom I have to go after now that I have the power to do so.”

“This is why you killed your father off?” He asks, eyes narrowed at you who only seems to be paying attention to your gloves. “Now that I think about it, you say you’re out to kill all the people who have done you wrong. Was your father your first target in all of this?”

Your hands freeze in place and when you look up at him, those eyes of yours are as cold as a stone, showing no sign of weakness, no amount of emotions for him to try and see through your facade. He can’t read you.

“What are you talking about?” You feign a smile. “If my father never cared for me, would he have accepted me so easily when I returned home after divorcing you? Any sane mobster who’s thirsty for power would have never let that slide. Yet father welcomed me in very well with wide, open arms.”

“Fool,” you hear your father’s disdained voice in the back of your mind. 

“You’ve always been useless from the second you were born. For a moment I thought things were going well, finally made useful to me. But here you are, crawling right back and begging for forgiveness at the foot of your father. I told you to make yourself useful.”

No matter how foolish and stupid you were ten years ago, at least you understood what to do in order to keep the image of a happy family alive and well.

Divorcing Namjoon was one of the hardest decisions in your life but you were left with no other choice. Returning that ring, asking him for a divorce, even that moment of weakness where you asked them to give you a second chance, all of that was planned.

After all, divorcing Namjoon meant facing father’s wrath so you had to do it smartly, hence you asked him to sign a contract with you before you left, before the divorce was finalized. It was the only way you could get through to your father. He would be angry either way but at least then he didn’t have to worry about losing power.

Power was all father wanted after all, and you allowed him to keep that.

That contract saved you from potentially dying at your father’s very own hands.

“Open arms…”

You stare at Namjoon with a small, playful smirk, knowing he must be thinking back on his own father. “Envious?”

He sends you a glare and you look away with a shrug, amusement plastered on your face.

“Did all those silent vows of keeping each others’ secrets safe not matter after the divorce?”

“Of course it does!” You say at his suspicion on you. “You don’t really think I’m the type to go around spreading every traumatic story of you and the boys to the world just because we don’t care for each other anymore, do you?”

“I don’t know who you are anymore, Y/N.”

“Right,” you nod. “Let’s keep it that way, yeah? Anyways, what am I doing here again?”

Namjoon lets out a sigh and reaches from the back of his pants to hand you a simple envelope. You stare at it, blinking.

“If it’s a letter of some sort, you could have simply sent it through the mail, old man.”

“I figured you’d rather keep the envelope as is rather than having words painted on them.”

“Why’s that?”

“It’s Jungwon’s.” You freeze and he takes a moment to look at the envelope before beckoning for you to take it once more. “One of the letters was meant for you.”

A letter was written for you? What for?

If Mister Butler had anything to say to you, why didn’t he just speak them to you when he had the chance? Perhaps it’s something secretive that he couldn’t say aloud?

No, can’t be. All his letters were basically his diaries but, why would one of them be addressed to you?

You pull the gloves off your hands, not wanting anything to taint the envelope before taking it from Namjoon. “Did you read it?” You ask and he shakes his head.

“Those are your initials, yes?”

They are.

“The content of the letters addressed to you,” you look back at him, wondering, “what were they about?”

“His daily life. A diary, as you said.”

“He never mentioned anything about what he was doing at the Reaper’s manor in the first place?”

Namjoon shakes his head, a sigh leaving his lips. “Nothing of that sort. Unfortunately, it doesn’t help much with my investigation.”

“Surely your father had some answers.”

“Anything that has to do with my father has already been searched and burned away. None of them ever mentioned anything about my brother. It’s almost as if it disappeared along with him, as if my father knew.”

Did his father get word of Mister Butler’s death? He must have, hence all evidence about what he had done were all destroyed for Namjoon to never find out.

“When did my brother disappear?”

“The eighth of January,” you tell him. “I was nine.” You were hurt that night, severely injured. You don’t remember exactly the events that went by, just the fact that the next thing you knew, you were standing in front of the man you loved so much, staring into his unblinking eyes. “He never said goodbye and after that night, I never saw him again.”

“Something must have happened.”

Yeah, your father killed him and blamed it all on poor little you.

“Well, I have to go now,” you say as you turn around and begin to walk off, “as I said, I’m a pretty busy woman.”

“Y/N if you know anything—”

“I got into an accident that night, Namjoon, so I don’t recall much of what happened.”

“Then those workers—”

“Are dead,” you say. “I killed them all.”

You hear him let out a frustrated sigh. “Honestly, you’re too impulsive. If one of them were still alive, they’d know what happened and have better intel than what we have now.”

“Well,” you shrug, “even if one of them were still alive, those workers didn’t really pay much attention to Mister Butler. To them, he was just another one of them, and if someone disappears out of nowhere, they’d only think what they know.”

Any sane worker would think they’d died at the hands of the leaders of the mafia they’re working in.

In Jungwon’s case, it was exactly that. No exception.

“See ya.”

With that, you walk off without looking back again, the letter tightly grasped in your hand.

.

.

.

You stand alone in the garden of the greenhouse, eyes staring blankly at the red roses right before you. With a white suit on, your overcoat drapes on your shoulder as you cross your arms against your chest, the gloves gone as blood still stains your clothing from your previous endeavor.

You don’t care to clean up just yet.

The rose bushes intrigues you as you stare at them, a reminder of someone you used to know.

“The roses remind me of you, Y/N.”

“...Why is that, sir?”

He lets out an exasperated sigh at the title you call him by, but falls understanding that no matter how much he asks of you, you’d never call him by name. “Is this your way of telling me you don’t wish for a close relationship, my dear?” He asks, a small pout glanced your way. “Despite the fact that we were almost engaged?”

You don’t answer his question, giving him anything but a blank stare. It’s all he’ll ever see from you, all you will ever show him. He will never witness your anger, your sadness, your happiness, or any emotions out of you.

Relationships do not matter to you, after all, he’s just another pawn for your father.

“Why do the roses remind you of me, sir?” You speak as if reading off a script; emotionless, robotic.

His brows furrow slightly but he’s used to this. “You’re pretty and you look innocent and sweet and precious, but anytime anyone tries to get any close to you,” he holds his hand out to caress your cheek, stroking it tenderly with his thumb as he flashes you a small smile, “you will put up a guard and have your thorns protect you. They are your walls, aren’t they?”

“I haven’t hurt you in the slightest, sir.”

He chuckles. “But you resent me, don’t you?”

“I do not hold any feelings towards you.”

“...Right.” He looks down at your figure, the way you sit on the bed obediently, and will not move unless instructed otherwise. You dress in a silky nightgown, one of the straps fallen from your shoulder, and he takes his hand from your face to trace over one of the visible scars held against your skin. You say nothing, you do nothing, and despite his gentle touches, you feel nothing.

He watches you as if trying to monitor your reactions, and when you give him nothing to see, he trails down to your hand and gently takes hold of it.

“You may not hold any feelings towards me but…” he traces the purple ring around your wrist, “you resent my father, do you not?” You say nothing so he goes on. “I may not know you as well as I hope to, Y/N, but even I understand that a lady would never want a man she doesn’t desire to touch her whether in a precious hold or not. You come here, walk into a man’s room whether you like to or not, just like an obedient puppet, and do nothing to go against your father’s words. So whether it’s me touching you or my father…you will not speak up against it.”

So he knew of his father’s doings, yet the closer you watch him, you realize that he’d only learned of that fact recently. Your potential fiance, despite the whole ordeal being to his benefit, has never once taken advantage of you. He holds onto his morals, a man of principles, and when he finds the truth of your relationship with your father, he expresses opposition.

But the two of you are one and the same, living a similar life.

He cannot go against his father, just as you cannot go against yours.

You’re both far too weak against the men of the house.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asks, almost a whisper, and you see the way he tries to hold onto his anger for you, the way his hand trembles slightly as he does his best not to hold onto your hand too tight. As if afraid he’d hurt you.

He reminds you of someone, but you don’t wish to remember so you look away, not wanting to see that little spark in his eyes.

“I had no reason to.”

When you say that, he looks back up at you, a flash of hurt and disbelief in his eyes. “No reason?” He scoffs. “You have purple bruises on your wrist and you’re saying you had no reason to tell me these things? My father did this to you, Y/N, and I can only imagine what other horrible things he’s done to you.”

“It doesn’t matter.” You look off to the side, taking your hand from his hold to look out at the window where a bird perches on the tree just outside. “In the end, we can do nothing.”

He hates how right you are, and hates the way you seem to shiver slightly from the cold, goosebumps forming along your skin, yet you say nothing against your pain. You do not care for your well-being, and you guess by now he’s probably realized you’re already broken.

A broken doll for your father to use at his disposal.

You hear him let out a grunt of anger yet when he slips your strap back onto your shoulder and holds the blanket over you, his actions are as gentle towards you as ever.

“When you decide to let your thorns be known to the world, I hope you can come after my father and kill him yourself.” He stands from the bed, going for the door but not before looking back at you for one last thing. “I will wait for you until then.”

How long has it been since you heard those words fall from his lips? It was the last conversation you had with the man, before he went away and did all that he could to drive the relationship between your gang and his to fall apart.

You’re not sure how he did it, but he somehow made it possible for the two of you to never see each other again, and in doing so, saved you from having to see his father ever again.

He was different from Ying, because while Ying always watched you get belittled and hurt and went to console you afterwards, the second he found out the truth, he did all that he could to at least save you from one less burden to carry.

He could do nothing about your father, but he took his father away for your sake.

The roses remind you of him, yet despite the little moments of good memories you have with him, they will always be overshadowed by all the things his father has done to you.

And the longer you stare at the roses, the more you wish to cast the memories away, the more you wish to never remember his face, his voice, and the way he held you.

You feel disgusted.

Perhaps if I touch them…maybe the pain will take over the pain of having to remember him.

You hold your hand out as if in a daze, a chant repeating in your head to try and convince you that marking yourself with physical pain will give you a chance in forgetting the past pains.

Hurt me hurt me hurt me. Let me forget.

You feel your teeth clenching, brows knitted, and just as your hand is about to grab a handful of the rose bush filled with thorns, someone grabs ahold of your hand with a force, stopping you mid-way.

“Please don’t touch the roses, all the plants here are important for the antidotes and poisons we work so hard to create.” It’s Han, one of the young researchers working alongside Yeonjun. He watches over the greenhouse, keeping the plants well-fed and healthy, always holed up in here to help aid the young genius hacker in his researches.

You know just how important each and every plant here are, yet it doesn’t stop you from the hypnotized state you’re in.

You ignore his touch and warning, further hoping to grab a fist full of thorns.

“Boss, please.” Han’s voice fades into the distance as you see nothing but the thorns before you. “Boss-”

“Y/N.”

Someone rips your attention from the flowers, hands held onto both your shoulders, forcing your body to turn their way, and that’s when you seem to come back to your senses.

“..Mingyu.”

“Have tea ready,” your second in command orders to Han, who in turn nods and walks off, knowing Mingyu always knows what to do.

“I’m fine.” You push him off you to turn from the flowers, a bit weak in your legs, and when he sees that, Mingyu reaches out to help you keep steady.

“I guess we have our next target, huh?” One look at you and the flowers and he understands in an instant. “Yuna will be happy.”

“Yuna’s happy with everyone we face.”

“Well,” he shrugs, “can’t really blame her.”

“Forget it,” you begin to walk off without his help, towards the bench just under the wisterias to take your seat. “I don’t want to face them just yet.”

Mingyu watches you with an observing gaze, and when Han returns with the tea, he lets out a sigh when you sip the drink to help you calm your nerves. The more people you go after, the more drained you become, and the more hysterical your state grows. He can’t blame you, after all, these are the people who have done you so wrong in the past, leaving you with scars both physically and mentally.

“Alright,” he says upon your orders when you give him the cup after a good couple of gulps, body laid over to rest your head against the pillow that’s already there for you when you wish to take your afternoon breaks. When your eyes start to droop, he takes a step to the right to block the glaring sun filtering into the greenhouse.

And Mingyu stays there watching after you like a personal knight whose only job is to watch over and protect the princess.

He hates every second of seeing you suffer all alone.

.

.

.

“The longer you keep this up, the harder it’ll be on your body.” When you look up at him from your cup of tea, Namjoon goes on. “Going after the people that’s pissed you off isn’t an easy job. Not only are many of the people that belong to the shadows tough but they do crazy things to one’s mind as well. You’re a victim to the shadows both physically and mentally.”

“Get to the point, Namjoon.”

“You need to slow down, take a break,” he says, “before you break.”

Break.

Hah. What a strange word.

“You needn’t worry about that, I’m already a broken doll.” It’s such a simple sentence that leaves your lips, as if you were speaking about the weather. You show no amount of emotion, eyes as dead as they were the first time he saw you again after ten whole years.

But even then, your ex-lover can see how drained you are by all of these endeavors. You’re stubborn, refusing to admit to the truth, but he knows just how tired you must be both physically and mentally. What if one day you go too far and there’s no one to save you from the drowning?

“I’m serious,” he states against your protest. Namjoon may not understand what happened through the ten years of your disappearance, the extent to which you were hurting, but even he knows just how much it has affected you.

After all, no sweet person can ever turn dark and emotionless without reason.

“I want to get rid of them as soon as possible.” You look up at him from the hood of your lids, taking a sip of the tea that’s been served for you. You were never really one who desired coffee, and ever since Yeonjun joined the gang, all that’s ever helped to calm your nerves were his tea. “You understand how that feels, don’t you?”

Namjoon doesn’t say anything but you can see the answer in his hesitation.

“So whether you want to stop me or not, I’m not going to rest until they’re all dead. I can’t.” Because your body refuses to let you. Each time you rest your eyes, nightmares will plague your thoughts, and unless your Reapers are there to help you through the episodes, you can never calm from the fear.

Everything scares you the more people you face, the world closing in, the walls suffocating you. Every second you face them, it feels as if your lungs are weighed by a heavy boulder, refusing to let you breathe. But you’d rather face these disgusting, vile creatures, than to know that they still live, walking the Earth as if all the things they’ve done to you is something that should not be considered a crime, as if they had simply crushed a bug with their foot.

You hurt from their pains while they hold their heads up, laughing in their own freedom.

You want your own freedom.

You need it, you crave it.

And you can never achieve it unless they’re gone from the torture they do to your head.

“Fine.” Namjoon knows he can’t stop you, so he relents. “Who’s your next target then?”

A man you’ve been avoiding.

You put the teacup down, resting against the chair, and cross a leg over the other. “I’ll need your help again, if you’re up for it.”

“And this is?”

“Ever heard of the Black Rose?”

He thinks over the question, a slight purse of his lips. “Isn’t that the gang that left for London? They were faring well here so no one knows why they left when the streets of London is much harder to gain control of.”

“They left because of me.”

He looks at you, blinking. “What?”

“The son, Hwang Hyunjin and I had somewhat of a relationship,” you explain. “I wouldn’t say we were close nor would I say we were friends but he supported me as a friend would. He cared for me.”

Namjoon’s brows knit in just the slightest way. “If he cared for you, why would he leave Korea?”

“He cared for me, that’s why he left.”

Hyunjin was the only decent human being that did the things he did in a respectable and accurate manner among all the mafiosos you’ve met. Even though you could never escape the abuse and pain, he still did you a favor by getting rid of someone who would have traumatized you even more than the man already had.

“So then, if it isn’t Hyunjin you’re after, who is it?”

“Who else but his father?”

“You’re walking into dangerous territory, Y/N.”

“Isn’t everything we do dangerous?” You flick your hair to lay behind your back, not wanting to back down. “He has more power in London than you but that doesn’t mean you aren’t influential there either. That’s why I need you on this mission. Hyunjin will be on my side, as well as you. I’ll need both of you to take Mr. Hwang down.”

“How are you so sure Hyunjin will be on your side? This is his father we’re talking about.”

“And you understand just how broken that relationship can be in this world.” Because his own father was never one to care for him. “It may be different from yours, Hyunjin and his father trust each other, but at the end of the day, he left Korea all for me.”

He left Korea for you.

Namjoon wonders what sort of relationship the two of you had, and the reason why the Black Rose left for you.

When he stares at you from across the table, he sees the determination in your eyes, as well as the trust you hold for a man he does not personally know. So you do know how to trust people outside your gang after all.

“Fine.” There’s no reason to refuse you. At the end of the day, he still needs intel on his brother.

With a satisfied smile resting on your face, you stand from your seat. “Great. I’ll see you in London next week.”

.

.

.

“You’re planning to what?” Mingyu is quick to look at you with alarm, his expression screaming protest. “Live out the fantasy he so wanted long ago?” He repeats your words with a disbelief scoff. “I’m not letting you do that.”

“You have no right to protest.”

“I’m your underboss, I have every right to protest.”

“Please my lady, can’t you think of something else?” Yuna speaks up, her lips forming into a tight frown when she looks your way.

“This is the only way to take down Hwang Leehyun and you know it,” you say against their dismay, standing firm in on your decision no matter what they say. “That man thrives off control and if I can manipulate him into thinking he can take me, we’ll have our score settled and I’ll have taken another man down. He has no reason to suspect me.”

“And if it breaks you?”

You laugh sarcastically at Mingyu’s words, a dark chuckle leaving your lips. “How do you break again after you’ve already broken? But then again, perhaps you’re right. A broken glass can never mend itself to the way it used to be, the only thing it can do is break even more.”

“Boss—”

“But I don’t care for that,” you cut him off, the only emotions detected in your eyes are filled with rage and anger. “This is the path I’ve chosen for myself, so whether you like it or not, I will never stop until every last one of them are dead. You have chosen to follow me, do so in silence.” 

With that, you turn your back on your Reapers and they know that no matter how against they are with your plans, once your mind is made up, you will never go back on your words.

“And if something goes wrong when I’m with him, I expect you to do nothing.”

You leave them with no room to protest and they can do nothing but watch you from where they stand, a heavy silence hung in the air because they know more than anyone that stopping you is something that can never be done. You live to seek revenge and you will stop at nothing.

Even if that means meeting death on its way.

Even if it will break you even more.

“Boss?” You don’t hear his call even when he runs up to stand before you, an alarming concern marking his features. All you do is stand there, as still as a corpse, with your head lowered and your eyes staring blankly at nothing before you. 

Mingyu sees the state you’re in; dressed in a white silky dress, spaghetti straps hanging off your shoulders, disheveled hair, with possessive markings splattered around your skin.

He can feel his hands trembling into a fist as he holds himself back, knowing that whatever he does, he can never let his anger get the best of him. So he settles with trying to reach out for you. You don’t see him, you feel numb and dull, like a living corpse, but when his hand holds out to touch you,

You flinch.

And Mingyu freezes.

His hand hovers in the air, frozen in time, and no matter what anyone tells him, he wants to storm out here right now and land his fist on the very man that did this to you, no matter the consequences.

But he has to consider the consequences because if he tries to do anything to go up against the people that have done you wrong, you will face the consequences and he knows more than anyone that that must never happen.

He wants to protect you yet why is this the only way he can save you?

Why can’t he do more?

Mingyu balls his hand in the air and settles it back to his side, turning to the Reapers that have come along as he clenches his jaws, keeping his emotions at bay.

“Yuna, Dasom. Get her a blanket, clean her up, and take care of her. Make sure she eats well.”

He only addresses the girls and they know. They know why.

Because normally you would never flinch in the presence of Mingyu. Never.

“Yes, Mingyu.”

“Yes, Mingyu.”

Yuna hurries to grab a soft blanket and drape it over your shoulders, hiding your revealing skin, and the two of them lead you away from the small little group. You follow willingly without protest, as if you can’t even speak, as if your only purpose in this world is to obey and survive.

Right now you cannot make a decision for yourself, right now you’re numb, you’ve locked yourself out from the world, eyes nothing but dull, empty sockets. Right now you are lost.

Lost in your broken, empty mind.

This is your body’s way of protecting yourself.

Yuna turns to Mingyu, her hand held against his shirt to grab his attention, and a tremor falls in her hand as her grip holds tight.

“I want to save her,” she whispers, a voice barely audible but they hear her. It is a wish they all hold dearly in their hearts. “She…she can’t face him again, Mingyu, not in the same way. Or else…or else…”

“She gave us her command, we can’t go against that,” the second in command states, his emotions held back despite it all. “But there are some people who aren’t obligated to go against her.”

“You don’t mean..”

“They’re the only ones we can rely on to bring Y/N back,” he says despite Dasom’s disapproving glare. “At least we can trust in Jung Hoseok, if anyone.”

.

.

.

“I ask that you protect her well.”

Namjoon sits in his chair, a silent stare at the man who bows before him, and when he looks over at Hoseok, the older man just spares him a silent glance, unsure of what was going on as well.

“You don’t think those are the obligations between two allies, do you?”

“I’m serious,” Mingyu says, his words firm and heavy without an ounce of jest in them. “This mission may as well be one of the most difficult ones my boss will have to face, yet I am not allowed to interfere with her plans.”

“And why is that?” Seokjin asks.

“Because she knows that if I were to be there with her, I may as well stop her and in short, ruin the plan of revenge. Whatever you do, do not stop her, however…” he holds his jaw in, fingers held in a tight fist behind him, “save her…if it so gets to that point.”

The man before them is a man who’s been through a lot, who watched over you and cared for you, a man who truly hopes for nothing but the best out of you. He frets over your safety, concern clearly marked on his face, yet as your subordinate, he is obligated to heed your every order.

“If you’re that worried about her, why don’t you try harder to have her revise her plan? Or better yet, persuade her to leave this be?” Namjoon asks, genuinely curious about his strange resolve.

“Because this is the only way I can save her,” Mingyu says, his expression a sharp, piercing seriousness. “She may be impulsive at times, maybe even bloodthirsty and cruel in her ways of only seeking revenge towards the people that have wronged her, but Y/N’s ambition lies in wanting to seek peace. You and I will never understand her heart but she holds her resolves and she holds her morals and I have every intention of giving everything I can to see her ambition come to pass. I believe that is why I follow her. She has saved me so I will do all that I can to save her. And if saving her means stepping back and having you take care of things for the moment…I hold no protest.”

So that’s how it is.

Both Mingyu and the rest of the Reapers refuse to stand in the way of your dreams. They have sworn themselves to you, from whatever point you’ve met and managed to steal their hearts and souls.

You have a way with people. Even back then when you held no ambitions in killing people, the authority you held had never dissipated. There’s something about you that people can never forget, no matter who they are, and you will always leave an impression in the end.

The Reapers now, your Reapers, are different from any other followers they have ever seen before. They heed your every word, holding them as if they were laws of the world, never to go against you, coming to you the instant you call their names. Loyalty means to have full allegiance and faithfulness owned by a duty, a pledge, or a promise. And the Reapers’ loyalty lies much deeper than that. This isn’t just simple loyalty, this is something much deeper than they can ever imagine. 

You saved him, Mingyu stated, which meant you saved the rest of them as well, and in turn, they’ve vowed their lives to you.

“So as someone who cares deeply for Y/N and as people who once held her at the center of the world,” he looks at them with a pointed stare, eyes refusing to look away or even blink, “don’t you think you should at least give her what she deserves?”

What a loyal companion you have.

[theaudacitytowrite]

🥳🥳 Congratulations on 1k! You deserve it!

Could we see prompts 31, 44, 48, 51, 57, 58, and 60 in no particular order with Loki x Female Reader? I’m thinking angst and fluffy fluffy goodness! I’m excited to see everyone else’s prompt ideas too! If it’s too many prompts let me know and I can change it!

This one practically wrote itself alone^^ Thanks for requesting this 💚

warnings: attempted SA

“At last, we’re finally reunited.” he cooed as he approached you with big steps, theatrically walking towards you, "I missed you, my dear."

His hand reached out to you, trying to cup your cheeks but you recoiled at his touch.

“Keep your filthy hands to yourself.” you seethed at him as you tried to scootch further away from him. It didn’t help that he had secured your arms behind your back with a rope tightly which made it difficult to get away.

“But Y/N, we were meant to be!” he whined hurt, kneeling down in front of you, his face so close that his breath hit your skin.

“Meant to be apart maybe.” you scoffed. His hand suddenly gripped your jaw hard, forcing you to look at him.

"You're mine, do you understand." he snarled, “Some day you’ll learn to love me back.”

He lowered his head, his lips dangerously close to your own. You tried to turn away but he forcefully held you in place. You pressed your lips tightly together, nausea overwhelming you when the door that lead into the room suddenly crashed open, the force ripping it out of its hinges, diverting the attention away from you.

“Get away from her,” Loki growled deeply as he stepped into the room menacingly. His eyes were dark as they held a murderous glare.

“Or what?” the man chuckled grimly as he got up to his feet, freeing his gun from its holster and releasing the safety catch, “I suggest you choose your next steps wisely, boy.”

Loki inclined his head in disbelief at the arrogance of the mere mortal standing before him. He snickered as he shook his head slowly.

“What?” the man sneered, hastily stepping forward but before he could even reach Loki he was slammed into the wall next to him. Loki slowly approached him, taking his time, only halting a few inches before the man who couldn’t move a muscle.

“I am a God, not a boy.” Loki muttered into his ear with a sly grin, “I’d suggest to you, re-evaluate your choices in life as we wait for the reinforcement. You’re lucky that she’s still alive and I don’t have to disregard my orders.”

“Loki.” the weak whimper for him made him turn around immediately. He hastily hurried to you, freeing you from your bounds.

"I'm here.” he consoled you, as he hugged you tightly, “And I'm not going anywhere, okay?"

"I don't know what I would’ve been without you." you sniffled against his chest, “He got so close to me.”

"It'll be alright." he shushed you, as he glared towards the man who fixated on the wall, plenty of ideas flooding his mind of what he could’ve laid hands upon this sleazy rat of a man in a variety of forms.

Tonight he would have to pay a visit in the prison cells.

"I thought... I thought I lost you." Loki shivered at the thought of what would've happened if he hadn't been there in time. He observed your face closely, looking for any injuries that he might have missed, “Are you okay?” You nodded timidly.

"But could you... hold onto me for a while?" your request pulled on his heart. He nodded silently as he encased you in another hug.

Taglist: @lucywrites02 @funsized-mimi @gaitwae @queenjosielaufeyson @1marvelnerd3000 @darkacademicfrom2021  @lostgreekgod @tendertalesmain @donttouchmylaevateinn @asgardianprincess1050 @msturi2u @high-functioning-lokipath @elius-learns-to-write @plainlo-inthemorning @kokinu09 @midnights-ramblings @donaweasley @itsreallyjustmeh @sititran  @lindsey-laufeyson @ethanshide @delaber  @anonymousfiction211 @itsybitchylittlewitchy @iamalinarose @xorpsbane @vbecker10 @limiworld @ilovefanfictions  @crazzycrackers04 @tinctureofmaddness @marvelfanfn2187a113 @cosplayingwitch @sylvies4ever @tanushreeg27 @kellatron55 @loveshineslikethesky @scram1326 @camerons-specialinterest @mooncat163 @leucoratia @acefeather2002  @mochie85 @usagishira @michelleleewise @mischief2sarawr @lokidbadguy @ozymdias

Only 1 more drabble to go 😭

[nightowlfandom]

Yuma Mukami- Scream For Me

CHECK OUT MY MASTERLIST HERE

SO ANON ASKS

If you’re prompts are still a go can I get a Yuma Mukami from DL and reader with the prompts

37- “Am I making you nervous, Y/N?

17- “We’re only sharing a bed, it isn’t the end of the world.”

39- "Just admit you want fuck me…if you behave, I might just let you.”

28- “I’m more than capable of being rough with you babe. You just watch.”

32- “Shh, wouldn’t want the boys to hear us, now would you?”

And the reader is still pretty new to the Mukami mansion, and is Lowkey terrified of Yuma because he’s so big and loud and ANGRY sounding but she also like has a thing for him? She’s also quite smaller than he is because he’s so tall and broad

That’s a lot BUT LET’S FUCKING GO YESSSSS

Babygirl.....it’s on. ALSO IM SORRY THIS IS SO LATE.

Leggo!

...

Was hiding really the way to go? Absolutely! You were in a constant state of alert in this place. You had only been here less than two weeks and you were honestly over it already. 

You had gotten lost so many times, you began to wonder if you lived in a maze that changed with every turn. It wouldn’t surprise you to be honest.

Of all the people that could have been forced into this world without choice, it was you. Thanks to your mother and her debts. You could just remember her words.

It’s for our family, honey...

Selling you out to strangers, nice. 

You missed your other friends, you missed Yui (God only knows how much shit she’s going through without you to back her up. Every day you would go over there to make sure she was still alive. There was hell to pay if you saw so much as a scratch on her.)

You had found yourself in a seemingly abandoned bedroom.

“Finally away from those freaks.” you grumbled, sliding down the door. “This is what I’ve been reduced to, hiding.” you griped. You could still hear the commotion, the smashing of glass and the arguing of men over who would get to bite you first. It suddenly got quiet, too quiet. It felt like the air was getting stiff. You felt eyes on you...you were being watched, but by who.

“Someone’s in here.” you concluded.

Before you could scramble to your feet and leave, you were stopped.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, not unless you want to get ambushed.”

Yuma Emerged from a dark corner, toying with a hair tie. You watched in silence as he secured his hair back. He swaggered over to you, gently resting his hand against the door, trapping you between it and himself. “Any reason you’re in my room?”

You were taken aback, he seemed quite calm and reserved unlike the rambunctious and loud asshole you saw before. That wasn’t good. If anything this side of him made you even more afraid.

.”I said what are you doing in my room!” he demanded, slamming his fist on the door. That alone was enough to make you flinch and turned your head away.

“I got lost!” you replied as loudly as you could, not even close to matching his tone. You sounded scared and pathetic...mostly because you were. “Please don’t punish me like RukI!” 

You had looked him in the eye...once. Big mistake.

“Please, like I’d waste my time.” he sneered. “You’re really that frightened of my brothers?”

You shamefully nodded your head, not trusting your voice. 

“Fine, stay as long as you want.” he huffed, stepping away from you.

“Huh?” you found your voice. “Really?!” you sounded a bit too happy.

“Are you that excited to be here with me?” he tilted his head to the side, a strange smile spreading across his face. “Y/N....it’s Y/N, right?” 

“Y-yes?” it came out like a question instead of an actual answer. 

“I figured. Just thought I put a name to the face that watches me so often.” he winked. “Do you like me or something?”

Shit! He knew?

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue? " he asked, still smiling devilishly. “It’s adorable.” 

Yuma made you look up at him, slipping his fingers under your chin.

“I think your little crush on me is funny.”

“Funny?” you repeated, feeling shocked. Wow, were you that pathetic? “Good to know.” you grumbled.

“What did you say?” he glowered, glaring down at you.

“I know you think I’m just a weak human...but I have feelings.” you moped, starting to turn around. “I’ll just leave.”

“Are you gonna wait for me to finish?” he snapped, just as your hand hit the doorknob.

Defeated, you lowered your hand and turned back around. 

“I like messing with you, Am I making you nervous Y/N?”

As you stayed silent, he burst out laughing. 

Yuma thought you were adorable, adorable and slightly wimpy. You were much more fun to torment than the other one...whatever her name was. Yuki? Yuna? Jennifer? Who cared?

“Since you have to do what we say, you’re gonna spend the night with me.”

Shit....

...

You crawled onto your side of the bed, as close to the edge as possible. You didn't want to risk anything. You were scared to death. 

“We’re only sharing a bed, it isn’t the end of the world.” You saw Yuma yank his shirt over his head, revealing all his glory. “I mean, it could be with me.” he winked. You hadn’t even changed clothes, you were in the same dress you wore that day.

You instantly turned on your other side, not wanting him to see your face. You turned away from him. He was so godly it was wrong. You felt the bed dip down.

It was silent for a few minutes, you had almost relaxed a bit. Keyword: Almost. You felt his fingers creep up your thigh. 

His low breathy laughter caught your attention.

“You’re so cute.” you heard him whisper. “I think I’ll keep you.” his lips ghosted over your ear.

You bit down on your lip to stop from moaning. You felt his tongue trace the shell of your ear, his hot breath tickling you. His fingers kept inching and inching closer to that spot between your legs. “ Just admit you want fuck me…if you behave, I might just let you. “

You choked on your own breath as he lashed his tongue around your ear, moaning to add insult to injury. 

Then you did it. You moaned ever so quietly, but he could sure as hell hear it. Yuma slapped a hand over your mouth right before he pushed you on your back. He used his other hand to pry your legs apart. “Look at that, all fucking wet for me....what if I just?” He bought his fingers to his mouth and spit on his fingers. Your eyes widened in anticipation as he bought his hand into the waistband of your panties. You felt his wet fingers slip inside. 

You let out another moan, this time louder. 

“ Shh, wouldn’t want the boys to hear us, now would you?” He shushed you. “Listen to that.” he reveled in the lewd sounds your body made for him. “Listen to that~” he snarled as he thrust his fingers deeper. “Fuck.” he watched you tremble under him. You moaned into his hand, practically drooling. Your insides clenched around his fingers. “You like being defiled by me, don’t you? You’re making a fucking mess, nasty slut.”

You watched through hooded eyes and Yuma finger fucked you. He stared down at his hand doing the deed, mouth again with his tongue hanging out. It was almost like he was receiving pleasure of his own through bullying you in such a lewd way. You were moaning into his hand, completely unaware of your volume. Anyone who could way by would absolutely hear.

Yuma took his hand from your mouth and grabbed your right leg. He tore his fingers from your and lifted your leg up, running his tongue along your calf before burying his fangs into your scorching hot skin. You gasped at the pain. 

“Fuck.” he lapped up your blood. He drove his fangs even deeper into the exact same place. Yuma’s brothers would be pissed off when they learned that they wouldn’t have been the firsts to bite you.

Yuma stared down at you, looking absolutely feral. Blood smeared across his cheek. He smiled evilly.

“W-what are you gonna do to me?” you dumbly asked. “You’re not gonna be rough are you?” you couldn’t help but ask.

“I’m gonna be more than rough, human.  I’m more than capable of being rough with you babe. You just watch. I’m gonna fucking destroy you until you can’t go anywhere without being carried there by me.“ 

[zodiyack]

Rude! (3,000+ Follower Fic Special 1/3)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Female!Hopper!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Billy stuff, lyrics, fluff

Song: Rude by Magic!

Words: 1,798

Summary: Billy's love for Hopper's daughter is too strong to be stopped by the tough Chief Jim Hopper. Despite being told "not in a thousand years", he plans to love her regardless.

Note: Thank you so so much! I love you all, and writing your ideas, as well as sharing mine with you, has been so fucking fun and amazing! I'm sorry for my lack of words, I wish being an author came in handy with writing this, however, all I can say is that I love you all from the bottom of my heart. I've seen people do shout-outs, and ask-related stuff with their follower things, and I may do that, I'm not sure. For now, I hope you enjoy this... Thank you all, again!

Also 1/3 means that there will be two other fics released for the 3,000+ follower present!

Taglist: @urie-bowie-mercury, @matth1w, @redspaceace-writes, @fandom-puff, @darling-i-read-it, @simonsbluee, @sebastianstanslefteyebrow, @dpaccione

Masterlist | Stranger Things Masterlist

"Saturday morning, jumped out of bed and put on my best suit. Got in my car and raced like a jet all the way to you. Knocked on your door with my heart in my hands, to ask you a question, 'cause I know that you're an old-fashioned man. Yeah."

Billy was freshly graduated, working as a lifeguard whilst his girlfriend worked her own job, both saving up for their chance to ditch Hawkins and move to California. Sweet Cali. Billy was excited to show the love of his life around the place he called home. Though, physically, he left the salty ocean and windy beach behind, the place never truly left him.

You could see it in his eyes. The waves crashing in his blue orbs. He swore the scent had just barely clung to his belongings; the smell of the tangy air that followed a majority of the state. Working at a pool was the closest he got to the memory of California. Chlorine was most certainly not the salted ocean waters, but with the circumstances, he decided it'd do.

The way his face lit up whenever he talked about his home...it made Y/n more and more excited to see it. His girlfriend had grown up in Hawkins, stayed there her whole life. Never once did the Hoppers leave Hawkins.

But the second that was introduced to Billy, he knew it had to change.

Although they were saving for a big move, Billy had...other things in mind with what to do with his first large pay-check (or series, rather. Working as a lifeguard didn't pay well with just one check). He began to work more shifts to make up for the money he'd spent, and one day after calling in for a day off, he decided to put his plan into action.

"Billy, stop messing with the tie."

"It's annoying." Hands slapped away his attempts of adjusting the black silk tie.

"Well it won't stop being annoying if you keep fucking it up."

For the first time in a long time, Neil Hargrove was calm. Not happy, not amused, not pissed off for some unjust reason- just calm. He wasn't wreaking havoc and he wasn't being an asshole to his son. Billy hadn't seen this side of his dad in quite some time, in fact, he thought something important was going on and he was about to fuck it all up. And then, Susan retreated to the living room with a camera and a freshly ironed suit.

"You're not putting me in that."

"And who asked for your opinion?" Neil deflected with a raised brow. One heavy sigh later and Billy was leaving the bathroom, dawning the whole black and white getup.

Susan clasped her hands over her mouth, a tear leaving her eye, "You look so handsome! Just like your dad!"

Billy rolled his eyes, "Great."

However, his careless attitude was swept under the rug when the blue Camaro pulled up to the police station, interrupting a clearly distressed Chief Hopper bickering with his daughter. Billy had to get himself together before stepping out of the car, jaw slack after seeing the beauty he got to call his date.

"Hello Mr-"

"Don't even try play nice with me, Hargrove. She's not going anywhere with you. End of story." Hopper kept his eyes trained on the blond, body tense like a snake preparing to strike it's prey.

Y/n grabbed Billy's arm, slowly directing him to the car, "And in the sequel, we find out I am going with Billy. End of that story."

"There is no 'sequel.' The writer got drunk and lazy." She paused, turning to face her father who stood tall, arms crossed and face unamused.

"So his daughter picked up where her father left off, and then the sequel was published and the two lived happily ever after, the end."

While her dad attempted to search for a line that would better hers and force her to stay, she pushed Billy toward the driver's side and slid into the car as fast as she could, rolling down the window as Billy started it up. "Bye! I'll be back before midnight!"

The two drove off toward the school, leaving behind a trail of dust and very, very, pissed off Hopper.

Prom was better than Billy thought it would be. He didn't want to go at first, but after Max found out and spoke to her mom about it (the little redhead a cupid-in-the-making), Neil pushed him to go (as he was "doing something else besides being a lazy-no-good rebel"). It was then that he called Y/n and asked if she'd be going.

The suit came in handy. Clashing with his rocker aesthetic, he put it back on once more. The once-annoying tie proved to be somewhat okay in the end.

Can I have your daughter for the rest of my life? Say yes, say yes, 'cause I need to know. You say I'll never get your blessing "till the day I die, tough luck my friend, but the answer is no!"

Why you gotta be so rude? Don't you know I'm human too? Why you gotta be so rude? I'm gonna marry her anyway. Marry that girl, marry her anyway! Marry that girl, yeah, no matter what you say! Marry that girl, and we'll be a family! Why you gotta be so rude?

With a deep breath, he ran-over the conversation in his head once more. Like a script for an actor, he had thought of every possible outcome and every possible line for him to face it with. He almost chickened out as his fist rose to the door, but it was too late, for his knuckles rapped against it before he realized he was even knocking.

El opened the door, eyes wide when she saw the familiar mullet and button-down. "Papa..." She muttered as she backed away and out of view.

Hopper traded places with her, his lazy expression sobering up instantaneously, replaced with a grumpy scowl. "Hargrove."

"Mr. Hopper, sir."

"What are you doing on my front porch?"

He swallowed roughly, palms sweaty against his sides. "I was wondering if I could talk to you."

"You seem to be doing just that right now, Hargrove." Hop crossed his arms and clenched his jaw.

Well, this was certainly not something Billy had thought of. He was on panic mode internally, attempting to find any response that could save his hide and accomplish what he set out to do. Unfortunately, the word-vomit button seemed to be misplaced under the button labeled "help".

"I'd like to marry your daughter, sir."

Hop's eyes grew just as big in size as El's had when she opened the door. He choked on his own surprise, coughing it off, then glaring at the boy in front of him. "Over my dead body, Hargrove. If that's all, I'd strongly advise you to get off of my fucking porch while you're still alive."

I hate to do this, you leave no choice; can't live without her. Love me or hate me, we will be boys- standing at that alter. And we will fly away, to another galaxy, you know. You know she's in love with me, she will go anywhere I go-

"Billy, he's just stubborn."

"No, no, I don't think he likes me."

Y/n sighed, rubbing her boyfriend's back. He hadn't told her of his proposal plans, only that Hop seemed to have it out for him. "It'll take time, but he'll warm up to you!"

"It's been how many years since he's met me?"

"To be fair, your reputation wasn't doing you any good until now..."

"It's not like that was fucking obvious." He slouched further down in the front seat of his Camaro. To Billy, all hope was lost. If he couldn't get Hopper to give him his blessing, he was sure he'd lose his goddamned mind.

Y/n frowned. Her frown flipped around as an idea popped into her head, her lips finding Billy's knuckles and quirking his attention. "Even if he never likes you, I'm not going anywhere."

Billy laughed softly, "he'll fucking kill me if you go against him."

"Eh, that's only if he can catch us."

"You're out of your fucking mind, Y/n Hopper."

"I know."

The rest of the night was spent in the Camaro, of course, doing one of Billy's favorite pastimes. By the time the sun rose, Billy was sneaking a kiss to a giggling Y/n before dropping from her window in the cabin and running to his car, parked far enough that Hop or El wouldn't notice. He blew her one more kiss, which she pretended to catch, then he broke into a sprint.

Maybe, he thought, just maybe; there was still a chance.

His knuckles hit the door again, shifting on his feet nervously. It swung open to reveal Hopper, an unimpressed look bringing no surprise Billy's way. It was quite expected, honestly.

"What." His tone made it clear he wasn't up for fucking around.

"Mr. Hopper, if you just give me one chance to prove to you that-"

"No, no, no, no, no. Let me make it very clear to you that I want you to have nothing to do with my daughter whatsoever. No marriage, no friendship, I don't even approve of you guys fucking or whatever-"

"We're in a serious relationship, sir. It's nothing like you think it is."

This made Hop laugh. He continued to do so, holding his stomach, until he realized Billy was unamused. "Oh, you're serious?... My answer is still no, Hargrove. My answer will always be no. Go find someone else's daughter's heart to break. You're not hurting mine."

"It's not like-"

Before he could even get the words out, he was met with a door in his face. Turned down, again.

Can I have your daughter for the rest of my life? Say yes, say yes, 'cause I need to know. You say I'll never get your blessing "till the day I die, tough luck my friend, 'cause the answer's still no!"

Why you gotta be so rude? Don't you know I'm human too? Why you gotta be so rude? I'm gonna marry her anyway. Marry that girl, marry her anyway! Marry that girl, yeah, no matter what you say! Marry that girl, and we'll be a family! Why you gotta be so rude, rude?

Again, again, and again, Billy incessantly pleaded with Hopper. Different tactics were all met with the same answer; rejection.

He held up a sign outside the cabin, only for Hopper to close the curtain and chuckle as he sipped his coffee.

He asked at the door again, only for Hop to threaten to give him a black eye (which was met with "aren't you the sheriff? Isn't that illegal?").

He raced past the police station, Max leaning out the window with another sign, only for Hop to threaten them with holding cells.

He even went as far as to ask Max and El to help, but Hopper had none of that, and sent Max home with a rant full of nos.

However, if Jim Hopper thought any of it would get it into Billy's head that getting his blessing was just not happening- he was as wrong as Nancy when she claimed not to have feelings for Jonathan.

Billy had another plan in mind, and this one was impossible to say no to.

Can I have your daughter for the rest of my life? Say yes, say yes, 'cause I need to know. You say I'll never get your blessing "till the day I die, tough luck my friend- but no still means no!"

"Hopper." Billy stood before his desk, interrupting his nice date with a delicious doughnut, and earning a very annoyed glare. "I got Miss Byer's blessing. Aren't you two a thing?"

"You son of a-"

"I got Eleven's too."

"Hargrove, I'm gonna-"

"Before you cuss me out, I think you should know that I've got a stable job, an interview with a mechanic so I have a job when the pool closes for the winter, and I've got a house on the market I'm looking at. I'm devoted to your daughter and she's devoted to me. You may not like me, but I think you're a great dad, better than the one I was unfortunately stuck with. You raised a strong and amazing woman. She's incredible and I admit, she deserves better than me-"

"You don't have to say that twice." Hopper huffed, crossing his arms.

"I know she deserves so much better than me, I'm surprised she's even with me too. But she loves me, and I think you can see that. I love her too. I would never, in a million years, break her heart."

Jim stayed silent for a few minutes. The silence brought uneasiness to Billy, but that was intentional on Hopper's behalf. He finally piped up with a cough, clearing his throat, before his piercing eyes met Billy's blue orbs.

"I'll hold you to that, Hargrove."

Why you gotta be so rude? Don't you know I'm human too? Why you gotta be so rude? I'm gonna marry her anyway. Marry that girl, marry her anyway! Marry that girl, yeah, no matter what you say! Marry that girl, and we'll be a family! Why you gotta be so rude? Why you gotta be so rude?

Bonus:

(after the wedding)

"What was that about a no?" Billy quipped with his infamous smirk.

"You're lucky I'm sheriff, Hargrove."

Why you gotta be so rude?

[syllvane]

touch- kaz brekker x reader

a/n: something new! still working on marvel stuff/muscle memory but wanted to try my hand at something new!

If you could have chosen to fall in love with anyone, Kaz Brekker would’ve been one of your last choices, if not your last.

Unfortunately, you don’t get to choose who you fall in love with- maybe if you could, you would’ve chosen someone actually capable of loving you back, someone like Jesper or Matthias, anyone other than Kaz ‘Dirtyhands’ Brekker, who seemingly couldn’t even stand being in the same room as you for longer than ten seconds.

“Do you have a moment?” A voice from the doorway asked.

Speak of the devil and he will appear.

You turned around to face Kaz, your neutral look faltering as you took in the extent of his injuries.

His hair was darker, stained by the blood that was coming from the wounds on his head and his face. Although the rest of him was clothed, you didn’t see any bloodstains on his clothes or any other signs that he was bleeding.

“Sit,” You ordered him and he hesitated for a moment before taking a seat on the kitchen chair closest to him, wincing almost imperceptibly as he sat down.

You kneeled down slightly so that you were eye-level with him, looking everywhere but his eyes. “What-”

“I don’t keep you on this crew to ask questions,” He snapped and you recoiled slightly- right.

You took a deep breath and as if it was the simplest thing in the world, you moved your hand over his face, just barely touching his hair as you healed the wounds that he had sustained.

Just to be safe, you did the same motion over his torso.

Without even really thinking about it, you grabbed one of the rags and started cleaning the dried blood from his face.

Kaz let out a breath.

“What are you doing?” He asked, sounding as if he was restraining himself.

You paused before pulling away quickly, turning away and gripping the kitchen sink with your hands.

“I didn’t… I’m so sorry, Kaz.”

He stood up, but he didn’t move or say anything for a couple of seconds.

Without another word, he left, closing the door behind him.

You let out a breath that you didn’t know that you had been holding, still gripping the sink, chiding yourself for being so stupid for forgetting one of the first rules that you learned, working with the Dregs.

You don’t touch Kaz Brekker.

                                                             —

If Kaz didn’t care about you so deeply, he would have commended the Black Tips, the group who had the bright idea to shoot you- they were smart enough to realize that they would never get close enough to kidnap you, so the next best thing would be killing you, not that they had succeeded at that either.

Although the damage had been enough to keep you unconscious for the better part of a week, you would survive and you would continue healing the Dregs.

Unfortunately, they couldn’t have been able to anticipate the storm and fury that Kaz Brekker intended to bring onto them because of that decision.

He knew that a part of it was illogical- by going through with his plan and reacting with a disproportionate amount of force, he was essentially advertising to the entire Barrel that you were his biggest weakness.

On the other hand, he wanted to see the people who had shot you suffer- more than that, he wanted to see them squirm as they realized that they had made a mistake and that they were going to pay dearly for it.

“Are you sure that you don’t want me to come with? It might be useful to-” Nina started and Kaz sat up from where he had been sitting beside your bed.

“You’re more useful making sure she stays alive. We aren’t arguing over this,” He said, giving your arm a quick pat before turning to walk out.

“Kaz?” You mumbled, beginning to stir slightly, your hand reaching outwards slightly as if trying to grab his.

He turned back around, though he didn’t rush back over to your side- thankfully, he had more self-control than that.

“I have to handle something,” He said casually as if he wasn’t about to go murder the better half of the Black Tips for daring to hurt you. “Go back to sleep.”

He turned around again and continued walking towards the door.

“Stay,” You said, your voice hoarse. “Stay, please.”

He stopped in his tracks and for a brief moment, he considered staying. He wondered what Nina would say if he did, what you would say if he did.

“I’ll be back,” He replied, forcing himself to continue moving. You were still delirious, you probably wouldn’t even remember that you had asked him to stay in the first place. You definitely would not remember his refusal.

Still, he found walking away from you difficult, if only because he wanted to remain with you during your brief bout of consciousness.

But the truth of the matter was that Kaz had never been good at softness. What could he do for you if he remained by your side? Talk to you, comfort you? That’s what Nina was for.

Kaz would never be the one doing that, no, he would be the one slitting someone’s throat, making them pay for what they had done to you.

He was infinitely more comfortable with killing than with caring for someone, infinitely more comfortable with holding a blade than holding your hand and the way he saw it, everyone was better off that way.

…

Right?

                                                               —

For the entire week after you had woken back up, Kaz couldn’t stand to be in the same room as you, much less look at you.

“He’s probably disappointed that I survived. Was probably ready to promote you to being a full-time Healer,” You joked with Nina as the two of you walked through the streets of Ketterdam, although behind the humor, there was the fear that you were right.

Nina didn’t say anything, didn’t even muster up a smile at your joke. You nudged her, pulling her back from wherever she had gone.

“What is it?”

“Nothing. I… nothing.”

“Nina. You’re a terrible liar,” You told her, narrowing your eyes slightly and she glanced over at you.

“When you were still out of it, he was visiting you,” She started slowly, choosing her words carefully. “He was visiting you and he had to go and you… asked for him to stay.”

You took this information in, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks.

“Oh. I mean I probably wasn’t talking about him specifically, right?”

“You mentioned him by name.”

Oh.

“You really should’ve just shot me then and there, Nina,” You said, only half-joking.

“It wasn’t that bad,” She replied quietly.

“He can’t even look at me. He…  Saints, I can’t even imagine what he must think of me.”

“Maybe that’s just who you’re in love with. Maybe you’re in love with someone who beats the crap out of the people who hurt you instead of staying with you. Maybe that’s the best comfort that he can provide, that the people who did this to you are no longer alive,” Nina offered.

“Yeah, but maybe just one time I’d like him to stay. But that’s not who he is.”

You will heal his injuries and he will kill for you but neither of you will ever express your love in a way that isn’t rooted in violence.

[blzzrdstryr]

Alone together

Yandere!Dainsleif x gn!reader

Wordcount: 2011

CW: Yandere themes, stalking, possessive behavior, PTSD

Khaenri’ah burns. Skies turn red, as tall pillars of smoke arise in the place of ruined towers. People cry and beg and scream.

“Ah, [First] , you came to help” Lisa greets you, waking up from her half-slumbering state: “Welcome, welcome. I already made some tea for you, just let me”. The librarian stretches and yawns akin to a cat, after she stands up from the counter, flashing you one of her charming smiles afterwards: “Go and fetch it. We will work after the tea”.

Something in her voice leaves no room for argument, so you sit at the offered table, eyes immediately shifting to the nearby window, mostly out of habit. Skies are blue and clear, buildings are whole and steady, people are laughing and cheering outside. It’s a sight that brings you heartache and comfort at the same time - no one should be subjected to what you had to live through, whether they worship the seven or not.

“And here it is”, the witch says, holding a tray with a steaming teapot, cups and a plate of cupcakes resting on top of it. The next fifteen minutes are spent drinking and carelessly chatting about everything and nothing in particular: Lisa is an excellent company, adept at maintaining the conversation interesting and atmosphere comfortable, her wide array of knowledge and keen intellect keeping you on your toes throughout the exchange despite the advantage of experience you happen to possess.

The brief tea party is then followed by the shared work of deciphering ancient documents, the librarian sometimes turns to you asking for the meaning of one word or another - most of the texts are written in Khaenri’ahn or archaic forms of the modern languages.

She doesn’t pry why you happen to possess such intrinsic knowledge on the long dead language, nor does she ask anything about your star-shaped pupils - she must have seen the descendants of your compatriots, then. You know there live at least two - one with tan skin and a warm smile that never reaches his cold eyes and a blonde youth with the powers of khemia rolling under his palms. There’s no courage to approach them.

You in turn share Khaenri’ah’s greatest legacy - knowledge and science that helped your nation to outpace the deities and turn them against you. It’s a nice feeling - making sure that the thing your people cherished the most will not be forgotten, even if it’s given to archon worshippers. Five centuries ago the thought of educating Teyvatians would be laughable to you - there’s no use in it, they will continue to believe in their gods - you would dismiss it, but now nationless you have no choice but to do it - it’s the only way to keep the products of your people alive. To keep the memory of your people alive.

Khaenri’ah burns. You run across the collapsing city, eyes growing wider as you see people slowly morphing into something. It’s bestial and feral, primitive. Your breath hitches, you want to scream.

“[First]?”, it’s Lisa again, she lightly taps your shoulder, a hint of concern creeps into her voice

“Ah? Everything is fine, I just zoned off” you reply, too quickly and too strained to be believable. Who could have known that even after five hundred years the flashbacks of what happened on that day will still haunt you? They trail your thoughts like determined hounds, sneaking up on you in the most inopportune times. One moment you are talking to someone, the second you relive the fall of Khaenri’ah. The memory feels too real to be a fantasy, leaving your thoughts messy, anxious and disordered, as you shake and try to calm yourself.

“Are you sure?”, she stands up from her seat and makes a couple of quick steps to you, taking a good look at your face: you must look horrible, you think, those episodes always leave you panting and on the verge of panic.

“Maybe we should continue tomorrow, there’s no use in haste, it’s not like our documents will run away”, Lisa continues, massaging circles into your shoulder - her hand is warm and comforting, grounding. You want to thank her for this - the understanding tone and the way she caresses you right now, helping you to keep the link with reality, but the words get stuck in your throat - it’s too much and too scary, to admit what just has happened not only to her, but to yourself too.

“Yes”, you finally force out of yourself, nodding along the way: “it would be for the better”. Your voice is still too tense and strained, filled with the grief for the people and places long past, but Lisa, to your relief, doesn’t point out any of it. You quickly gather your belongings and leave the library, almost forgetting to bid a farewell to the witch as you exit.

The sun begins to set as you make your way to the rented house, it’s small and nondescript, a complete opposite of the one you had in Liyue. You used to work as a scholar in the harbor before He found you again - you fled your spacious and cozy apartments in less than a day, leaving almost all of your possessions behind.

The thoughts of what had happened still buzz in your mind - you want to scream and cry, you want to vent to someone, but the words you will utter will be in pure khaenri’ahn they won’t understand you.

You think of finally approaching that star-eyed cavalry captain, Kaeya, maybe he saw what you witnessed too. You think of Albedo, who carries the same energy all khaenri’ahn constructs do. You want to ask him about his creator, you want to talk with him about Khemia. You think of Barbatos who wears the form of the cheerful bard, you want to accuse and scream and hit him.

You do nothing as the power leaves your body the same second - it’s scary, so scary to verbalize that, to talk and share and relive, and approaching any of those three means doing exactly so.

You stay inside instead, calming your beating heart and kicking out intrusive thoughts, and only when your pulse returns to the norm you allow yourself to finally stand up. The world is shaky and unreliable, but some things stay the same. Your room for example - you have a habit of leaving things in specific places, as a way to keep you grounded. There’s a comfort in familiarity - the one you desperately need.

Your eyes shift from one object to the other, until they stumble across something that sends your heart racing again. The cup you use is shifted by a couple of inches, facing you by the opposite side, there’s a flower and a note lying beside it. The words are in khaenri’ahn, the handwriting is familiar too.

Khaenri’ah burns. Your lungs do too from the sheer overexertion and fatigue, but you keep pushing further and further - you can’t give up yet, not when He needs you. A name forms on your lips.

Thousand of thoughts form in your mind, they’re panicked, fast and disjointed - flee again, cut and dye your hair, change the name too - you can start over in Inazuma again, it’s a closed country, so if you will manage to get in, it will be harder for him to track you again.

Who are you kidding?

Unlike you, he has a core of steel, an unwavering determination to settle things his way or die trying - be it opposing Celestia or gaining you. It was always like that, with the Twilight sword being stubborn to a fault - he never budged or surrendered, not when Khaenri’ah was still proudly standing, and not now, when there’s nothing but the charred remains of your homeland.

You met him when you got accepted into the Royal order, where a Konungr paired you with Him. The twilight sword was unrelenting in his pursuits even then, a trait that you both admired and feared in equal volume. The collapse of your nation only worsened this quality - if back then he was striving to supervise and oversee everything, then the tragedy exacerbated his controlling tendencies even further.

You were travelling together for the first fifty years after the fall, both affected by the same curse, as he started getting possessive. It began in innocuous things: asking where you were, what you were doing, you didn’t pay much attention back then, celestial wrath still fresh in your memory - he was just cautious you told yourself, it’s a safety measure.

But then these safety measures grew from simply inquiring about your day to accompanying you almost everywhere, and then it all culminated in Him locking you up, to keep you away from leaving.

You escaped then, and avoided him ever since, departing your residence the second you caught the wind of his possible proximity. Years turned into decades that later morphed into centuries, and you began to grow lax - he was getting closer and closer to you with each turn. The first time you had a suspicion of him being near you packed your things the same second and spent countless days traversing the land by hidden passageways, careful not to leave any traces, and now, now you still sit in your house, despite having evidence of him knowing where you are.

Maybe you grew tired of the cat and mouse game, maybe you just accepted that your recapture is inevitable and all your little escapes do nothing, but set it off for a couple of months, or maybe you’re just that lonely. It doesn’t matter, really, as you make no attempt to do anything - it’s useless, he already knows your location.

Khaenri’ah burns. You cry and you hate yourself - for weakness, for helplessness, for still being alive and sane. He stays near you as a silent shadow, his blue eyes shifting from your crying face to the wreckage of the city. There are no words shared between you that day - you’re crushed and empty, yet bare and aching at the same time.

“Dainsleif”, you greet him, once you hear the squeak of the opening door. He doesn’t look that different from five hundred years ago, but now his eyes are both more tired and alive with fervent light.

“[First]”, he simply replies, your name rolling off his tongue like a prayer - there’s adoration and worship in his tone. He almost falls to his knees, as he takes your hands in his, capturing them in a steel trap.

“[First], I finally have you, [first]”, he murmurs, bringing your palm to his face. You don’t resist him, knowing it’s futile. His skin feels just like all those years ago - rough and dry, weathered down by the demanding lifestyle he leads. He gives a shy peck to your inner wrist, blue eyes intently watching you as he does so.

“Long time no see, Dain”, you start, trying to diffuse the tension in the air, as he grabs you by the chin and forces you into a kiss. He kisses with the desperation of a dying person, one of his hands firmly holding your head, the other starts to explore your body. It feels obscene. You are lightheaded, when he finally parts and hugs you again, still chanting “[First]” over and over again.

You allow him this liberty too, feeling a prick of pity in your heart. You know what it is - to be the sole survivor, too see your own people crumble and fall and transform. You know that he returns to that place again and again, reliving the same moment against his will. You know that he gasps and shivers when the memories get too real and overwhelming.

You both are children of the fallen nation, and there's no person in the world who could understand you better than he does. Maybe, you shouldn't have run, you think, listening to Dainsleif speak in Khaenri’ahn. There's a chain of connection between you two, it's unbreakable, forged in shared losses, tears and pain.

Khaenri’ah burns. It burns in both of you.