#denial is a 6 letter word

[ninikrumbs]

After you

Satoru gojo x reader. birthday special. angst angst angst. im sowwy. changes to 1st person halfway through. fluff if you squint very hard. feat. Hiromi

You stirred gently out of your sleep, eyes slowly opening. And for a moment everything was hazy, then you realized you fell asleep on the sofa of your living room.

Pushing yourself halfway up, the sound of water dripping on paper caught your attention as you glanced down at the array of photos scattered beside your chest. A hand flew to your face when you realized the abundance of tears free falling from your cheeks to the mementos below.

Echoes of his voice and flashes of his smile still lingered in your glazed mind making your lips tremble as a knot of emotion lodged on your throat. It took everything in you not to sob.

All at once it came back to you, waking up in the middle of the night, unable to go to sleep. So you decided to go to the ktichen but stopping short when you habitually opened your phone and saw the date. Time halted to a stop, you stopped breathing altogether as your hands slightly trembled around the phone.

Everything was a blur after that, and somehow you found yourself at your living room with a box full of mementos from what seemed like a another lifetime ago. There was a time when the mere sight of this box - that you skillfully hid at the back of your closet - brought you to tears and sometimes it still does.

Memories of your youth stared back at you. From your high school days to the your time as a teacher at Jujutsu High. Photos of a white haired boy with a smile that could rival the sun made your heart ache. Especially the strip of pictures the both of you took in one of those vintage photobooths. The both of you looked so young, so happy, not yet tainted by the darkness of the world, still filled with so much hope for the future. Tears lined your eyes once more.

You didn't know when you fell asleep, probably when your eyes got too heavy. Wiping your tears, you stood up and walk to the window. The moon was bright and full, you often talked to the moon on nights like this. Talking to it as if he could hear your voice.

Hey, Satoru

Its been almost 6 years since you left. 6 years when my life got torn in half. When the news of your death shaked me to my core and my world came crashing down all at once.

I remember the denial and the anger. I cursed the universe for taking you away, before bargaining with every God and being out there to bring you back to me. And for a while I thought I'd never accept it and maybe some part of me still hasn't.

After the war against Sukuna, grief overtook me. I was a mere shell of who I used to be. Its like a noose was tied aroud my heart. Even breathing proved difficult in a world without you. My days were empty and monotonous. Only waking up to eat then sleep, and sometimes I wished I wouldn't wake up at all so that Id see your face once again. Its like I was drowning in the middle of the ocean, waves pulling me down, not a drop of hope that Id ever reach the shore.

I saw you everywhere. In the bright blue sky under the morning sun. In the beach where the seas reflected your eyes. When the snow falls and sticks to the ground. Things that once made me happy were then only constant reminders of what Ive lost.

And when I received the letter that you wrote to me, every word was a stab to the heart.

I want you to live, sweets. I want you to get everything , do everything you've ever wanted. To never settle. To love again- though Ill probably haunt him for his entire life.

It made me laugh bitterly, because didn't you know that everything I wanted died along with you?

Yet I tried, I tried for you, Satoru. And for the people around me.

After some time, I went out. Started teaching again, hoping to live up to the legacy you left behind. Ate lunch with Shoko, guided missions with the students and even a few dates. None of it mattered though, because in the end, I searched for you in every room, and in every person I met. Hoping for just a glimpse of your smile or the twinkle of your bright azure eyes.

Eventually, with a heavy heart, I came to realize that you don't get that lucky twice. That what we shared was a once in a lifetime occurence.

"There you are, sweetheart. Couldn't sleep?" A deep voice laced with sleep reached my ears.

I glanced up to see Hiromi, walking down the stairs only in a pair of sweatpants.

Once he reached my place by the window, he saw my glossy eyes, the pictures in my hands and the opened box at the bottom of the sofa.

His eyes softened, filled with warmth and understanding as he realized, "Ah, Ill go make us some tea."

Then I found Hiromi. Or better yet, he found me. He was so kind and strong, so solid and dependable. He met me at my lowest, he comforted me as I cried about you. He was the lifeboat that found me, and he didn't just throw a buoy for me hold onto but he dove head first into the raging ocean and held me in his arms as he swam me to shore.

I never understood how he fell inlove with me regardless of the endless emotional baggage that I carried. And he has proven to me time and time again that he more than willing to carry it with me. He was so good to me, I didn't deserve him, I knew that.

You would've liked him, Satoru. Hiromi's love breathed life into me. He made me warm and tingly inside. My stomach still does backflips at the sight of him. I was smiling again, enjoying life again. I could finally recognize the girl in the mirror.

It wasn't an easy journey though. In the beginning of our relationship, guilt would eat my insides when I kept comparing him to you. His brown eyes to your blue. How sometimes, he reminds me of you. And how for awhile when he kissed me, I felt your lips. It was unfair to him, I know. Yet he was so calm and patient, voicing nothing but understanding and assurances when I cried and confessed to him my selfish thoughts.

I followed him to the kitchen. "I didn't mean to wake you, Hiromi."

He glanced back at me, smiling softly. "Its okay, sweetheart."

We sat in companionable silence as he made tea, before he set the cups on the counter infromt of me.

After a moment, his hand cupped my face, caressing it gently, "Do you wanna talk about it?"

I shook my head, "No.. Im okay, really."

He let out a breath and pulled me close by the waist, before pressing a kiss on my forehead, "Im here, always."

Hiromi astounds me everday, because I dont know If I would react the same way if the situation was reversed.

I pressed my cheek to his warm chest, breathing him in as I hugged him back. "I know and you'll never know how grateful I am for that."

Pulling back, I stood on my tiptoes and gave him a chaste kiss. A sign of my gratitude, but not for more than a second. It would be unfair for me to kiss him more when you still lingered at the back of my mind.

Even though now, I don't feel your lips anymore, Satoru. I feel Hiromi's, which made me happy. I love him so much, he deserves so much more than the chipped heart than I can give him yet he says its all he wants.

Seeing the melancholic look in my eyes, Hiromi rested his forehead on mine, "Ill go to bed first."

I know he thinks I want space from him when I get like this, when my memories of you plague my mind but he couldn't be more wrong. I pouted, "No, please stay."

He was my constant reminder of everything good in my life, he kept me afloat. He never made me feel crazy or stupid for being so hung up about my dead boyfriend. He was a saint and Ill spend the rest of my life making it up to him, to love him like he deserves.

He chuckled, "Okay, I can whip us some pancakes if you want?"

"That sounds amazing." I grinned, albeit a bit watery.

I did what you wanted , Satoru. I lived and loved again. I never settled for anything less. Thanks to you I found happiness and love, things I thought I would never have again after you. Though you will always own a piece of me, a piece of my heart and soul and I never want it back.

Happy Birthday, Satoru.

The years we spent together are still my favorite.

To me, you'll always be 29 and beautiful. And until our next blue spring arrives, Ill continue to live the life you gave yours for.

This made me cry when I thought of it. Thoughts?

[likecanyoujustnot]

Cardan’s letters pov

Part 6: Jude

A/n: i wish holly hadve just had Asha put the letters in like a drawer and not burnt them because cardan really put his heart and soul into these letters

Part 5

I’d gone through an entire bottle of wine in the past hour. Plus whatever I’d had at dinner. I’d sworn I would drink as much after I became king.

The bomb had had one glass.

She looked at me with so much pity in her eyes I knew I must look like shit.

Another week had gone by with no correspondence from Jude. Not even a threat or anything to tell me she wasn’t coming back.

Just… nothing.

And it was killing me.

The bomb had been doing her usual routine spying from the rafters, keeping a special eye out for the ghost and anyone who worked for Madoc.

And upon seeing me absolutely wasted she’d taken me back to my room, where I’d proceeded to open another bottle.

“Why won’t she come home?” God I sounded pathetic.

She shrugged. “How am I supposed to know?”

“You’re her friend. You know how she works.”

“And so do you. You’re her… whatever.” Husband. The word meant nothing if no one but us knew. “You’ve known her longer than I have.”

And yet, I didn’t know why she stayed away.

“I just want her back.”

The bomb’s gaze softened, just a bit. “Maybe you shouldn’t’ve exiled her.”

“She killed my brother.”

“And yet you still want her back.”

“I don’t care about the brother part, it’s that if I hadn’t, Orlagh could’ve demanded a much higher price.” I took another gulp of the wine. “Her life.”

The bomb grabbed the glass from my hand. “No more of this. Don’t look at me like that, can’t have Jude back if you drink yourself to death.”

As much as I hated to admit it, she was right.

“You should get some sleep.”

“Why do you care?”

“Because you are my king, and I can’t have you acting like this.”

“You never cared before.” I leaned back on the couch and surveyed the spy.

“Jude was here before.”

“My every minute of existence does not revolve around her.”

She looked at me, as though I had found a way to lie. But it wasn’t a lie, otherwise I couldn’t have said it. My sleeping minutes didn’t revolve around her. Technicalities.

“You keep telling yourself that. The denial is so strong you can even convince yourself that’s true.”

“What do you mean?”

She leaned forward, forearms on her knees. “You, High King Cardan, in love with your mortal seneschal, Jude Duarte.”

She was good. And right. I couldn’t deny it, and the bomb knew that judging by the massive smile on her face.

“What do you know of love?”

“More than you’d think.” There was a sorrow in her voice. “But I do know you stare at Jude when you think no one is looking, you have been miserable since she left. You yearn for her presence, for her to be with you and it kills you that she’s not here.”

Damn.

“What about you and the roach?”

Her smile dropped a fraction. “That is none of your concern.”

“Well then my relationships shouldn’t be any of yours.”

There was a pause, she sighed. “Look at us, the king of elfhame and his spy, sharing our miserable lives full of unrequited love.”

I sat up. “You think she doesn’t feel the same?”

She shrugged and took a sip from the wine glass she’d removed from me. “Jude’s mind works in strange ways, but then again so does yours.” She laughed. “Exile the woman you love, great idea, what could possibly go wrong?”

I scowled and she laughed again. “You can’t even deny you love her.”

“We’ve established that.”

“That’s what makes it funny.”

“Not to me.”

She shrugged again. “She definitely feels something for you, I saw the hurt in her eyes that day on the beach. Probably would’ve pained her less had you stabbed her in the stomach.”

Screw it. “We’re ma-”

There was a knock on the door. And the bomb got up to answer it.

I couldn’t hear the hushed words exchanged. I’d been so close to telling her the truth. Jude was queen. Her queen. My queen. And my wife.

The bomb came back and grabbed her cloak, calling over her shoulder. “There’s been an issue with some of our spies, I have to go take care of it. Don’t drink anymore.”

As if I would listen to her.

Everyone said alcohol was bad for you, but I was the high king, I was stronger and more powerful than the average faerie. And it numbed the pain.

That’s what I told myself as I went through another bottle.

I woke up, head pounding and wanting to throw up. How much did I drink?

At least I was in my bed, nothing but a pair of pants on.

There were three empty bottles on the table outside my bed chamber. So I’d had two once the bomb left. Not as many as I feared.

There was a note on the table, from the bomb?

No, it was in my handwriting.

One word.

Over and over again.

Until it got to the second last, which was different.

JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE JUDE

please Jude.

There were a few ink splatters on the page. Giving the intention drunk me had pressed too hard with the quill.

Seeing it brought back the memory of when we’d been in the court of shadows after the coronation.

When she’d questioned me about finding it in my room.

I didn’t ask how she’d found it, or why she’d been in my room. I didn’t care. And I didn’t care now. I just cared that she wasn’t here.

I didn’t even put on a shirt as I walked out of my room.

“This letter gets to Jude Duarte, or I will personally see your demise.”

The man looked at me, fear in his eyes as he took me in. Mad gilt in my eyes, no shirt, undoubtedly smelling of wine. He grabbed the letter and ran off.

I went back to my room.

I’d barely slammed the door shut before I’d collapsed against it, head in my hands.

How had I gotten here?

Someone knocked on the door.

A deep rumbling voice reached me, muffled through the door. “Your majesty.”

“Go away.” I hissed.

“I’m afraid it’s urgent.” The fool didn’t even hesitate.

“It. Can. Wait.”

“Taryn Duarte is here to see you.”

“She can wait too.”

“She says her husband is dead.”

I flung open the door.

“What?”

I’m done!!

I’m not sure if I should write the trial from Cardan’s pov?

Or do smth manorian

Idk

Give me ideas

[lovinqmils]

ꜰᴀʀ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʜᴏᴍᴇ┊ avatar x human!reader

Warnings: follows avatar twow plot (aka spoils the whole thing) , sfw (don't even try me w anything weird) , some ooc, use of y/n, female reader

can also be found on wattpad: @lovinqmils

THIS IS A STORY (NOT A ONESHOT) SO IT'LL HAVE MULTIPLE PARTS

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍...

you manage to get lost on your way home, you unintentionally get yourself caught in a sketchy science experiment...yikes. you wake up in a foreign land (or shall I say planet) that filled with 8-10ft tall blue...creatures?

read along to find out how this interesting adventure unfolds !

according to google the oldest of the sully kids was 15, so the reader is 14-15yrs. please pretend the reader could get to pandora in a couple months, js for story purposes :))

TW: KIDNAPPING

PART 1: ❝ PANIC ❞ 1.7k words

"this doesn't look familiar..." you muttered, frantically wiping your phone screen dry from the pouring rain, trying to find out where in the world you were. but no matter how hard you swiped and tapped your phone was frozen still , completely ruined from the rain. still in denial , you continued trying to get your phone to cooperate with you , failing to notice the white van pulling up towards you.

after feeling a light splash of the cold rain splash onto your legs, you look up making direct eye contact with a blonde-haired man wearing a white lab coat with the letters 'RDA' sewn onto the left side.

"oh my ! sorry to bother you, but do you know the fastest way to get to xxx station?" you ask, a bit loudly as he still hasn't rolled down the window.

the back door of the van slides open, a fairly muscly man dressed in a black tank top and matching cargo pants steps outside. strolling over towards you, "what'd you need , darling?"

feeling slightly intimidated, you take a step back realising just how dangerous this situation is, "oh, uhm...don't worry about it..thank you for your help though"

"now now, where do you think you're off to?" the muscly man chuckles, roughly grabbing your arm. he leaned in so close you could smell all the smoke and alcohol he consumed.

"let go of me !" you attempt to pull yourself away , but unfortunately his grip only tightened.

panicking, you started to scream and kick anywhere you could , but he managed to wrap one of his arms around you and drag you into the van. you took a last glimpse of the dimly lit street, your phone laying on the wet concrete , broken. the doors to the van slammed shut and sped off to an unknown location. you felt a damp cloth being stuffed into your mouth and in no time everything went black.

���✧༺ ༻✧༻༻✧༺ ༻✧༻༻✧༻

TW: operation?, syringes

your eyelids still too heavy to open , you felt restraints tied around your hands and legs forcing you to lie as stiff as a pencil. your senses seemed to be dulled but you managed to make out a conversation between 2 people who stood on either side of you

"boss..you got fired from the RDA years ago...do you even think she's gonna make it through the transportation?"

"quiet! just because we don't have all the fancy equipment does not mean this project is impossible! now pass me the scalpel."

'...scalpel? are they operating on me!?'

your body immediately tensed, your tried to force your eyes open but they wouldn't budge. so you resulted to jerking your body in any direction possible.

"SHE'S MOVING! HURRY AND PASS ME THE SYRINGE!"

you felt a tiny prick in your arm and once again, everything faded into complete darkness.

༻✧༺ ༻✧༻༻✧༺ ༻✧༻༻✧༻

your eyes shot open, you sat up looking around you. you were in a forest, filled to the brim with exotic colourful plants. the trees towered over you , the trunk was at least 50ft tall.

"where am i...?" you muttered. as beautiful as this place was it definitely was not home. you brushed your hair out of your face and stood up, you've got to find a way out of here. after some scavenging, you managed to create a makeshift spear, consisting of a sharp stone that was tied to a sturdy stick with a couple of hair ties.

"anyone!? hello..!! can somebody please help me!?" you started to walk mindlessly deeper into the forest shouting for what you hoped, would be help.

"is anyone there!? pleas-" you were cut off by an extremely tall blue creature landing in front of you, aiming a dagger that would definitely do more damage than your spear directly to your throat.

"w-wait..what are you..." you stumbled back unable to finish your sentence gripping onto your spear for dear life.

you heard the blue creature make some sort of screaming sound, alerting 6 other 8ft tall blue creatures to land on all sides of you. you were surrounded.

hyperventilating, you swung your makeshift spear around, trying to create an opening however they only moved closer. a slim blue fist collided with your left cheek, the force throwing you to the ground. the pain you felt was unbearable , and the stinging sensation in your cheek caused tears to roll down your face. you were picked up by the front of your shirt, and one of the creatures held its dagger against your neck. at this point you were frozen still, were you gonna die..?

unexpectedly, you heard a loud whistle which must've startled whoever whatever was holding you as it let go of your shirt, dropping you to the floor.

as soon as you made contact with the floor, you scrambled over to your 'spear' and held it protectively. the 7 blue creatures that had ambushed you earlier stood in a line listening to a taller blue creature. this 'taller one' looked more mature, and was probably the leader of whatever these things were.

when all 8 of the 8ft+ creatures turned in your direction, you started swinging your spear at the air screaming with every movement you made.

"don't! ugh..come! any! closer!!"

as the tallest one started to approach you, the adrenaline vanished along with any other courage you had. so you threw the spear and took off into a sprint.

it certainly wasn't easy running in a forest where you're the size of an ant so you only made it about 15 meters before you tripped.

you looked up to see all 8 of those creatures directly in front of you, the 7 you saw before looking especially angry.

"w-wait! I'm sorry, p-please...don't kill me!" hot, salty tears raced down your face, as you desperately tried to crawl away.

"stop." the tallest one was now crouched in front of you, "what's your name ,and who sent you?" he asked, his amber eyes staring into your soul.

"...you speak english?" you breathed out, feeling relieved that you weren't as alone as you thought

"answer the question" he repeated, the 7 other creatures reaching for their weapons

"okay..okay ! just don't kill me" you took a deep breath,

"m..my name is, y/n l/n and I wasn't sent by anybody...I was ki..kidnapped by some crazy people and ended up here.." you tried your hardest to speak clearly, but you couldn't help but hiccup every now and then.

"do you know where you are?"

"no..I don't even know... what in the world you are..!" your eyes welled up with tears as you finally grasped your reality. you were stranded, in a foreign land, with people who want to kill you.

"get up. if you won't tell me the truth, I'll force it out of you." the leader stood up, pulling your arm to force you onto your feet.

༻✧༺ ༻✧༻༻✧༺ ༻✧༻༻✧༻

awkwardly you sat on a lab table, surrounded by scientists that would not stop taking tests or examining you.

you sighed, "how many times do I have to tell you! my name is y/n l/n, I turn 15 this year and I have NO IDEA how I got here."

"I know this must be stressful, but if you're a human you shouldn't be able to breathe the air here," a female scientist, Florence, explained, rubbing her temples hoping to ease the stress.

you heard a knock at the door, immediately knowing who it was you slipped off the table and hid behind a wall, "DO. NOT. LET. HIM. IN!"

"y/n dear, you cannot keep avoiding Jake, you've been here for a good 3 days now!" Florence groaned, walking over to the door.

"you cannot tell me I'm on PANDORA, the planet that humankind tried to destroy, and expect me not to fear for my life!" you retorted. despite your fear, Florence still unlocked the door and let the visitors inside,

"y/n! come say hi, Jake and his sons have come to check on you!" Florence sweetly called, yet the only thing you heard from the message was that the two people who had previously threatened to kill you, were in the building. Florence chuckled as she heard your footsteps quickly scurry off into your bedroom followed by the loud slam and locking of the door.

"don't mind her, she is still a bit panicky due to the current circumstances." Florence sighed, moving out of the way to let Jake and Neteyam Sully (two familiar faces), followed by Jake's younger son; Lo'ak.

"I understand. have you learned anything about her?..why she's able to breathe without a mask?" Jake asked, putting on a recom breather as he walked further into the lab.

"we managed to get an x-ray of her lungs," Florence said, picking up a remote and turning on a projected image of your lungs. " it looks like a filter of some sort has been placed in the middle of her trachea. as of now we can only guess what it may do , as trying to look at it surgically would put her life in danger."

the room fell into an awkward silence, Florence rested her hand on her chin trying to think of a way to get you to socialise with the Na'vi. "ah!" she exclaimed, "Jake, I don't think we're gonna be getting y/n home any time soon, and your sons are around her age so why don't they teach her the language? it'll help her loosen up around you !"

Jake sighed, "I mean I don't see why not." he turned to his two sons, "I want the two of you here tomorrow 3 hours after dawn. remember to be patient, learning a new language isn't easy"

"yes sir." they both answered, now wishing they never came to the lab in the first place.

"right it's settled! I'll see you two tomorrow!"

* . • ☆ . ° .• °: . *₊ ° . ☆ .* . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆. * . • ₊ °

A/N: thank you so much for reading! please comment and lmk who you want to be the main love interest! (as the reader is a child, the love interest will not be any adults.) <333

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not wanting to writing a positive review of my brothers moral character?

(🖌️ to find later)

TW for drug use and misogyny

My (24X) older brother (26M) recently ended up getting arrested and charged with some very serious charges due to his distribution of fentanyl. I’m not going to get too into the legal stuff for obvious reasons but he could end up in prison for up to 30 years. I’m not any type of fan of the legal system (US, for clarification) and am not a fan of the situation but can definitely see some silver linings to him being in there. I wish there was an actually system of help he could get but with the rate he has taking drugs and the way his circle of friends was dropping (4 funerals in 6 months) my mom and I were fairly certain he was going to over does soon and he showed no signs of wanting to seek help. So ya know, at least he’ll be alive.

But that’s not fully the issue. My mom and I talked and she said his public defender wanted letters from people to prove his good moral character to read in court and, as his little sibling, figured of course I would provide one. But I truly have nothing good to say about the man’s ‘moral character’ the last time we had a conversation was before I moved out over two years ago. When I moved out my roommates I was moving in with said they didn’t want him to know our address as they would be living there too and didn’t want him bringing his violence into their lives. He blew up called me a bunch of homophobic slurs and that was pretty much it.

Before that he was my biggest reason for wanting to move out. He regularly calls my mom a bitch and a c*nt. He never cleaned up after himself because ‘there was two women in the house and we were f*cking (r-slurs) if we thought he should have to do anything.’ Lovely things like that. He punches holes in the walls, says slurs like they’re the only descriptive words he knows, steals anything not locked up (and smashes through doors and windows even then to get to it), and hounds my mom for money non-stop, usually until she gives in. In short I have nothing positive to say about his moral character.

Now my mom is a very loving mom. Far more than I could be at this point and is in denial about the man her son is. She would say she’s spent the last decade living with the personification of meth and heroin and she will get her son back some day if he could only get clean. But none of that has actually been him. I just can’t have that kind of optimism or denial towards the situation. She’s going to be very upset if I don’t submit something because she (fairly, again fuck the prison system) doesn’t think he should be locked up for upwards of 30 years.

I’m a good writer. I could come up with something. None of it really true but it can sound nice. Make my mom feel better (gods know she needs a break) but just thinking about it makes me feel gross. I don’t even know if it will matter much in court, but I don’t know how awful of me it would be to abstain.

There’s obviously more nitty gritty to the situation but this is long as it is. I just hope I didn’t make my mom sound bad because I do want to say she’s a loving woman in an abusive situation and I hope it’s not to much to ask that no one be too cruel to her in the notes, thanks.

What are these acronyms?

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Detecting Love

Summary: Loki x Fe!Reader -> You and Loki work together at a police precinct in NY, and you have had the biggest crush on him for ages. But when your life is put in danger, will he realise he feels the same way?

Disclaimer: Fluff, Angst, Pining, Taking care of the reader (not sexual), hurtful words shared, denial of feelings, acceptance of feelings. Violent crime cases mentioned. Slight inspiration taken from B99 (I couldn't find ACTUAL police sayings, so I used B99 - sorry for any inaccuracy).

If Loki had known that the minute you let your voice wash over the radio with those dreaded words, he would have told you his secret earlier. 

It had been a few years since the Asguardian God had come to Earth and been on such a mission that it led him to taking a job as a New York Detective which was one of the main reasons he decided to stay, even after his mission was over. 

This had been where he met you. 

At the time, you had just transferred from Boston. 

Boston in itself had been a big leap for you since you had planned staying home with your folks before getting your acceptance letter from Harvard and joining their police force as a Rookie. 

So, moving even further away was another leap. 

Yet, you didn’t regret it for a minute. 

Loki had been friendly, even in the beginning. 

You had been one of the very few female Detectives when you joined. And the only one with experience in solving and dealing with Homicide. 

Emily, the other female Lead Detective, although having experience in homicide, was more an expert in Narcotics and Fraud. 

That morning when you joined and were setting up your desk, he knocked on your office door and stood there in a freshly pressed suit, his hair away from his face and his shoes gleaming. All the while, a new case file was in his hand. 

He introduced himself and said he’d been assigned as your partner. 

You couldn’t have been more lucky after that. 

Over the years, you’d had a couple partners who were either too harsh with their title or not harsh enough. Some had tried to blame children for something that was completely out of their control. 

But never Loki. 

For all his moments of being “A God” - which came as a shock which you managed to downplay - he was kind. 

Genuine. 

One of your first cases dealt with a mother and child in danger. The moment the doors burst open, you made your arrest of the father before handing them over to a fellow cop and turning to the mother who was terrified, bloodied and crying on the sofa with the phone unhooked beside her. 

Meanwhile, you looked through one of the bedrooms and saw Loki put away weapon and kneel down. 

A girl, no older than 6, was cowering in the corner of her bedroom floor, already half-way under her bed. 

You watched as he lowered himself to her height, spoke softly and waited until she felt safe enough to come out on her own. Loki assured her she was safe and that she’d never be hurt by that man again. 

Once she finally did come out, she hugged Loki and he picked her up and carried her outside. 

He saw the look you gave him, questioning if everything was okay and he just nodded, putting his other hand onto the back of the child’s head as she cried her last few tears into his shoulder. 

That moment was almost three years ago, and things were still the same between the both of you. Though, perhaps, there was more of a deeper connection. 

Walking into the bullpen, you found Loki folded over one of the desks, fast asleep. 

Smiling a little, since it was rare to find him sleeping, you picked up a couple files and carried them over to his desk, piling the rest of his under yours. 

Placing a gentle hand on his back, you shook him away. 

“Loki? Hey, Loki. Go home. Get some rest.”

Slowly, he lifted himself from the desk and looked around, still half asleep. 

“I can finish up here. Go on, you head home. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He tried to protest until you told him once more that you were more than happy to finish up the rest of the paperwork and that if he didn’t leave, being a god or not, you’d personally drag him home if you had to. 

After that, he thanked you, grabbed his coat and left, but not before saying goodnight. 

It was at times like this that you were reminded of the harsh truth that Loki wasn’t with you. 

After a year into your friendship and partnership, you began feeling slightly differently towards him. You didn’t know what it was. There was no change in him, there was no change in you. But you began to develop feelings towards him. 

Feelings that left you mad at yourself for even feeling. Feelings that left you a little heartbroken at the end of every shift because it meant waiting more than 8 hours to see him again. And if it wasn’t 8 hours or more, that just meant something terrible had happened. 

Sure, you’d dated some guys over the last three years, but none had ever stuck around long enough. It was either your work hours, or it was Loki himself that they didn’t like. 

Either way, you returned home every evening to your Australian Shepherd, Zoey.

“Zoey! Zo! Where are you? There you are,” you smiled as Zoey came around the corner, clearly having been asleep on your bed…again. 

“Hey, girl. Hello. Oh, thank you.” Zoey gave you multiple licks across the face as she wagged her tail before running to the bathroom. 

“Just give me a minute. You can have a bath soon. I promise.”

 Feeding both yourself and Zoey, you put your plates into the dishwasher before grabbing the dog shampoo from under the cabinet and running a couple of inches of water into the tub just as Zoey jumped inside. 

Little did you know, in a week’s time, you’d hear a set of words which would send your heart into a thousand pieces. 

Everyone at the compound, apparently other than Loki himself, was convinced that you had feelings for the latter. 

Natasha had seen it when she happened to spot you and Loki together getting coffee. Tony, Steve and Bucky had seen it when they went down to the station to give a talk to the officers. Wanda, Peter, Sam and Maria had seen it when they met you in the park, one day, walking Zoey before she ran off only to jump up to Loki. And Thor had seen it every time he went to see Loki. 

Sometimes, he’d show up outside your door when he was looking for his brother because he knew, if he wasn’t at home, he would be at yours. 

That day, you both had been washing Zoey so when Loki answered the door, half soaked with water and you appeared moments later, seemingly in the same situation, Thor had gotten the wrong impression until Zoey then came running out of the front door. 

However, on this particular day, Clint, Natasha and Thor had appeared in Loki’s office. 

It had started out with the group sharing information and handing Loki a case for him to possibly investigate since, if he did it, it wouldn’t draw too much attention too soon. 

But it wasn’t long until the conversation turned towards you and the feelings they had told Loki you had for him, despite having no verbal confirmation from you. 

But this wasn’t the first time your “feelings” about Loki had been brought up to him. And, in all honesty, he was sick of it. 

So he put a stop on it, once and for all. 

Only, he seemed to mistime his rejection. 

“You don’t know for certain.” Loki told them.

“For certain? Jesus, Loki, the woman looks at you as if you’re her whole world! The last time I saw someone that smitten was Peter with MJ this afternoon - and those two are actually together.” Clint told him. 

“For the love of-!” Loki had to take a breath. “How many times do I have to tell you people? She doesn’t like me like that, and I don’t like her that way either! She’s just a friend! She means nothing to me. I don’t have, and never will have romantic feelings for her. She’s just a close colleague, nothing more.”

At the trio’s reactions to his comment, and Thor’s finger signalling to behind Loki, he turned and found you standing there and there was no denying you had heard him. 

She means nothing to me.

She’s just a close colleague, nothing more.

You could, and had accepted that he would probably never have romantic feelings for you. But that didn’t stop it from feeling like a stab to the heart which left a wound that would take a while to heal. 

But those words. 

She means nothing to me. 

She’s just a close colleague, nothing more.

They hurt the most. 

Because, even if you couldn’t have Loki’s acceptance in romance, you at least had him and knew him in a close friendship. 

But apparently that didn’t even exist. 

Something simply made up by your imagination, when it got caught up in avoiding romantic feelings. 

But rather than yelling, crying or fleeing the scene…you said nothing. 

Seemingly, you managed to hide your emotions from them all and mask them completely. 

Loki said your name, ready to apologise, but you just spoke over him, telling him what you had been ready to tell him when you walked to his office. 

“Rebecca called again. She’s got some new evidence for us at the hospital.” You handed him over the case file. “I was gonna ask if you wanted to ride down with me, but…I can see you’re busy.” 

You looked at the trio of Avengers and smiled. “Hi.”

They gave similar replies. 

“We were just consulting him on a case.”

Natasha elbowed Clint in his ribs to shut him up. 

“Oh, you’re really busy then. I can handle interviews this afternoon, you don’t have to worry.”

“Wait,” Loki called your name as you were about to leave. 

“No, it’s okay.” You told him with a smile. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you later. Bye, guys.”

They all said goodbye to you, watching as you walked back down the hall and towards your office. Within a few moments, you had your coat, badge and bag and stood at the elevator. 

“Well…that was awkward.”

Natasha stamped on Clint’s foot this time.

“Ow, what was that for?”

“You know.”

Loki pressed his head into his hands and groaned. “I’ve really messed up.”

“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock.”

“Fuck you, Watson.” Clint replied before he could shut himself up, which earned a glare from Natasha. “Sorry.”

For the next week and half, Loki couldn’t stop feeling guilty. Yet, you acted as if nothing had changed…almost. 

Usually, you’d invite him to get food with you at lunch or grab him lunch, already knowing his order. Instead, you’d work through lunch, running on a coffee or two. You’d still finish off some of his paperwork, but you wouldn’t look at him when you gave it back. There was no longer a crumpled post-it note on top telling him to go home and get some rest. 

And when you’d leave for home, there was no bright goodbye or bright good morning. If Loki himself, or another colleague, hadn’t physically watched you leave, he wouldn’t have known you’d gone home. 

It was hell. 

But everytime he tried to talk to you about it, you’d change the subject or bring it straight back to work. 

And when he asked you about Zoey…you just said that she was good. There were no more funny stories about what she had done when you took her for a walk in the park. There were no more little anecdotes from you or funny quips that you made on the job. 

He was now working with…a colleague. 

You were no longer his friend. 

The conversations between you and himself on the weekends slowly trickled away, turning into simple questions of; “Are you coming into work today?” and, “Have you got the ME record yet?”

Before he knew it, just over a month of this had passed and it couldn’t have been more torturous. 

And then you went on a date. 

You had gotten changed at work since the case had wrapped up early and you could actually make the date this time. 

Stepping out of the bathroom, you were dressed in a floor length emerald green, satin gown. A slit came mid thigh and your heels - for once - were not uncomfortable. Meanwhile, your hair, which felt like it took forever to get right, curled around your face just the way you wanted it and Loki, unbeknownst to you, couldn’t take his eyes off you for a moment. 

All Loki wanted to do was to turn back the clock to over a month ago when he said what he said and slap himself before he could even think of those words. 

Because you had never been nothing to him. First, you had been a partner, then a friend, and then a woman he wished he could have to himself. But that third one, despite the amount of times Thor and the others would tell him that you felt such romantic feelings towards him, he had no other choice but to ignore them. 

For one, you worked together. 

For two…he wasn’t aware about how deep his feelings ran for you when he saw that split-second look on your face after you heard everything he said and how much he missed knowing you, for what you did after work, to what Zoey got up to and even to the notes you’d leave him - even when they were, 95% of the time, about work. 

He missed you, more than he ever knew he could. Even when you were standing directly beside him. 

“Wow.”

You looked up to find Loki paused halfway from one of the other detective’s empty desks. His jaw was hanging open for a moment before he closed it shut. Slowly, he walked over to you. 

“You…you look…incredible.”

You looked down to yourself before finding the first ounce of courage in weeks to look him in the eyes. “Really? Thank you.”

“I-I mean it.” Loki paused for a moment again, taking you in. “Wow.”

“I…I have a date so I better…” you signalled to the exit behind you and Loki tried his best to snap out of the trance you had him in. Stepping back, feeling his heart shatter even more, he forced a smile and bowed his head, letting you go. 

“Enjoy!”

Loki didn’t get a minute of sleep that night. His mind was too busy thinking about what you were doing and if your date was treating you how he would, and if he was complimenting you in the way he would. 

The next morning, you stood smiling with Emily. Loki only heard a couple of comments from you about your date. But he couldn’t help but smile when he heard you at the end of the conversation, when Emily asked if you’d see him again, you said; “No. Brad was great and all, but…”

“But?”

“I don’t know. He talked about his ex quite a bit. And when he dropped me back home, he got a call and he seemed pretty happy about it.”

“Oh.” Emily sighed. “I’m sorry, hun.”

“No. Don’t be. Brad found his “one”. I’m just…I can wait a little longer to meet mine.”

“Well, in the meantime, I have a case for you.”

But, just as Emily was about to hand you the file, you heard your name being called into the Captain’s office, including a couple other officer’s names. 

“We have a hostage situation at the bank, downtown. I need you and these officers to go down there and get as many people as you can, out of there and to safety until SWAT arrives.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Once you left the Captain’s office, Loki made his way to Emily’s desk and asked if she knew what was happening. 

“I don’t know. Whatever it is, the Captain seems upset.”

But then they got their answers. 

“Listen up! We currently have a hostage situation downtown with live civilians inside. I have already assigned a team but I need everyone to be on call just in case.”

Before Loki or Emily could say goodbye and good luck, you were out of the building like a shot. 

Just over an hour later, the team returned, minus one. 

Loki called out your name until one of the officers came over. 

“Where is she?”

“She said she would walk back to the station.”

Both Loki and Emily knew it must have been a tough one if you had decided to walk back to the precinct. 

Only, after 15 minutes of Loki’s thumb hesitating over your phone contact, Emily’s radio came on. 

“All nearest available units and officers to 6th Avenue. We have an active shooter inside Jefferson Library.”

What followed were multiple badge numbers and officers names before those three, dreaded, words. 

Show me going. 

After the first five officers, with people tuning in and out, not really knowing the badge numbers, everyone recognised the sixth. 

“Y/L/N, 64952. Show me going.”

“That’s Y/N.” Emily said before turning to look at Loki who had been drained of colour. 

For the following two hours, Loki spent the whole time trying to distract himself from what could be happening to you. Every now and again, they would hear the sound of bullets flying and Loki had been restrained to remain at the precinct. 

He couldn’t double himself or transport himself to the library. He already had a case to work on and they couldn’t afford to possibly lose another officer, even if said officer was a God. 

When a third hour passed, Loki was ready to leave just as his Captain called him into the office, closing the door behind him. 

“Sir, with all due respect-”

“She’s in the hospital.”

Loki stopped in his tracks. “What?”

“From what they’ve told me, she’s okay. Just a little bruised. She took a bullet to the shoulder but the doctors have said she’ll heal up nicely.”

“Okay.” Loki didn’t fully know where to put himself. 

“They were going to call you, but one of the on-call officers alerted me first and I asked the hospital not to.”

“Why?!” 

Loki had been your emergency contact for three years, just as you had been his. They should have called him regardless. 

“Because you would have rushed down there and kicked up a storm that they didn’t need. Look, son, off the record, I know how you feel for our girl. We all do. It seems you two are the only ones not to know. But I need you to go down there now, and take her home. Stay with her all week if you have to. I don’t want her feet stepping anywhere near this building until she’s well enough to come back to work, at least at the desk.”

“She’ll still fight you on it.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it. But I need her to rest for this week. I’ll have Emily and a couple of the Rookies cover your cases in the meantime.”

“I can still come in to work, Sir.”

“Perhaps, but what happens the moment you leave her alone?”

Loki nodded. He should have thought. 

You’d do something that would probably tear open your wound again, leaving you out of work for longer than any of you want.

“You have a point, Sir. I’ll make sure she rests.”

“Thank you. You’re dismissed.”

By the time Loki arrived at the hospital, you were already sitting up in bed, trying to get dressed. 

“Need some help?”

Looking towards the door, you found Loki standing there. 

“No. It’s okay. I’ve got it.”

“I’m on strict orders from the Captain and the doctors, and Nurse Jenkins to make sure you don’t open up your wound.” Loki said as he walked towards you, watching you get frustrated at yourself. 

Reluctantly, you accepted his help and he pulled your jacket up over your shoulder before kneeling on the floor and helping you put on your shoes. 

“I can tie them myself, you know?”

“Without moving that arm?”

“Touche.”

Loki smiled, “Just stay still.”

A moment later, “There, all done.”

“Thank you.”

Loki watched as you went to pull your bag from the floor, but as you did, it slid away from you. 

“Loki!”

From the floor, where it now lay at his feet, he picked it up and placed the strap over his shoulder. 

“No. Like I told you, strict orders. I’d hate to break them.”

“You love to break them.”

“But somehow, this way is more fun.”

“Of course it is.”

Loki smiled, “Come on, I’m driving you home.”

By the time you both arrived at your house, Loki opened up the door and you walked in and kneeled down to pet Zoey who was taking extra caution when sniffing you and your new bandage. 

“I’ll make you some food, you must be starving.”

“I am, but, Loki. Please, you really don’t have-”

“What are friends for?”

“I wasn’t aware that we were.”

An awkward silence settled over the two of you. 

Speaking first, Loki said your name. “I’m sorry about what I said. I shouldn’t have said it. You have been my closest friend since I first met you. Know that I didn’t mean it. You mean a lot to me…more than you know.”

After a minute, you nodded. 

“Okay. But this doesn’t mean I forgive you for letting Zoey jump out of the tub that time.”

Loki smiled with a laugh. “Of course.”

“And I have some of those mini pepperoni slices you like in the fridge if you feel like pizza?”

“Sure.”

As you left to get into the shower, Loki busied himself with making fresh pizza. Though, his mind ran off with him as he thought back to the first time you taught him how to make it. It had been six months into knowing you and you had just  found out he was a “God”. But not only that, but that he was a God who had never made homemade pizza. 

So you taught him what to do. 

Perhaps that was where his feelings for you had started, without him realising. 

It had been the first time he’d seen you relaxed. You were both in your own clothes - not work attire. Your hair wasn’t in a bun, but rather a loose ponytail until after you finished your meal where you removed the bobble and let your hair down. 

However, just as he put the pizzas in the oven, he heard you call for him. 

“Everything okay?”

“I–” you huffed. “I need your help.”

“Okay.”

“Can you come inside?”

“A-Alright. Should I cover my eyes?”

“If you don’t mind.”

“Okay.”

Opening the door with one hand, Loki covered his eyes with the other. 

“I can’t get my top on.”

“O-Okay. What do you need me to do?”

“Just…here, hold onto this end.”

Helping him with the instructions, Loki held open your t-shirt for you and helped pull it down your arm and body until you said; 

“Okay, you can open your eyes now.”

Opening them, Loki gave you a small smile. “Everything okay? Wait, here.”

From down your back, Loki pulled your wet hair from out of your shirt. 

“I- I can help you dry it…if you’d like.”

“Sure. Only if you don’t mind.”

“Of course not.”

“After food, though. I didn’t eat at the hospital.”

An hour and half later, you were sitting in front of your desk and mirror with Loki brushing his fingers over your hair as the hot air from the hair dryer blew it back and forth. 

Soon enough, all though too soon, your hair was dry and Loki turned off the hair dryer. 

“There, all done.”

“Thanks.”

From your desk, you remained seated whilst Loki walked backwards and sat on the very edge of your bed. 

“About what I said that day-”

“Loki, please…you don’t-”

“Yes, I do.”

“No. I-” you looked down at your hands for a moment before looking at him through the mirror. “I heard what you said and, you don’t have to say anything else.”

“But I do.”

“What else is there to say, Loki?”

“That what I said wasn’t true. Not even by a thousand miles.”

You were a little confused, but Loki continued to explain.

“The moment I saw your face…I knew what I had said and all I wanted to do was go back in time and stop myself from even thinking about saying it. And then when things changed afterwards, it made me realise that not only did I love you as a dear friend, but also as something more and I couldn’t put my finger on what that was until today.”

“Loki-”

“When I heard your badge number…I couldn’t even think. And when the Captain said you had been rushed into the hospital.”

You could see the tears in his eyes as he told you what was going through his mind. 

“Just the thought of losing you…of never being able to see you again or even just hear your voice…I…it terrified me.”

You turned around on your chair to look at him properly.

“I love you too much to lose you. Please, don’t let me lose you.”

“Then don’t let me go.”

Looking at you, Loki seemed a little surprised and you took a mental picture. There probably wouldn’t be many opportunities to surprise the God of Mischief. 

“What they told you…it’s true. I didn’t know until after a year of knowing you. I still don’t know why, but I do.”

Without saying a word, Loki slowly stood before taking your hand in his, allowing you to stand with him. 

“If I kiss you right now, will you punch me?”

“No.”

Loki leaned in before pulling back. “You promise?”

“Scouts honour.”

“Were you even a scout?”

You were silent for a moment. “No. But the honour still stands.”

Loki laughed a little and smiled before hooking a finger under your chin and pulling you closer and pressing his lips to yours. 

[tamurilofrivendell]

Sleeping Beauty | Chapter 10

Previous Chapters [1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9]  Read on AO3 [x]

Pairing: Thranduil/Fem. Reader Summary: A Sleeping Beauty inspired tale with Thranduil the Elvenking, and a female elf living in Mirkwood under the care of Radagast, who is actually the ‘lost’ daughter of the late High King Gil-Galad. Taglist: @hufflepuff1700​​​​​​​​​​​​ @jinlizz-dragondrama​​​​​​​​​​​​ @firelightinferno​​​​​​​​​​​​ @bubbleyukismile @coopsgirl​​​​​​​​​​​​ @achromaticerebus​​​​​​​​​​​ @sleepyamygdala​​​​​​​​​​​   @smalltownbigheart​​​​​​​​​​ @qmabailor​​​​​​​​​ @genderfluid-anime-goth​

The very next morning, Radagast sat down at his wobbly desk, quill in hand, and scribbled out a letter to be sent to the Elvenking’s Halls. He had suffered a very sleepless night, going over and over in his head what he could possibly say, how he could explain it. All he knew was that he could no longer afford to wait. Now that the Enchantress had made contact with you (and he knew that she had, despite your denial of there having been anybody else in that clearing) Radagast could not waste a single second.

He could not keep you here in his cottage any longer. He could not shield you properly, in the way that would be necessary. The Enchantress may very well launch an attack upon him and he would rather that you were safely out of the way. Inside Thranduil’s Halls would be the best place for you, for a time at least. The Enchantress would not be able to penetrate their defences. Radagast knew that Thranduil would not let her.

Yes, you would be quite safe there, though moving you to the Halls would mean that he would have to tell you everything. He would have to shatter the only world you had ever known. He was loath to do it. He was so very fond of you and he did not wish to hurt you. However, there was nothing else that he could do, not like this, not without help.

So, after much hesitation and scratching out of words, Radagast placed his letter safely into the claws of a raven and sent the bird winging its way to the Woodland Realm, where it was received and taken to the king.

To Thranduil Oropherion, Elvenking. From the hand of Radagast the Brown. It is with deep regret that I must inform you of a very large secret which I have kept from you. The keeping of this secret was not done to slight you. In truth, it had nothing at all to do with you and everything to do with the safety of the one that I was sworn to protect. The daughter of Gil-Galad lives, Thranduil. She dwells within this very forest and has for many years, under my strict supervision and care. The High King begged me to keep her hidden from the Enchantress to save her precious life and, until very recently, I had managed to do so. With the Enchantress now prowling beneath these trees, I fear time has run out and the Princess is in grave danger. The Enchantress has come too near and I can no longer protect her as I once could.

I write to you seeking sanctuary for her within your halls. Please respond with all haste.

When it fell into his hands, Thranduil read the letter and immediately began to fill with rage. The little girl had survived? She lived? All these years, he had been led to believe that she had died. No... no, not led to believe. He had seen her die! Witnessed it with his own eyes!

What was the meaning of this? Nothing made sense!

If she was alive, then that meant the curse was still in effect. It meant that perhaps this was the reason the Enchantress had come here, had darkened his forest with her presence. He had asked Radagast point blank if he knew why she had come... and the damned wizard had told him that he did not.

Thranduil paced angrily around his office like an unsettled wolf until he finally forced himself to sit down and respond, glaring at the paper the entire time.

To the Wizard Radagast. From the hand of Thranduil O, Elvenking of the Woodland Realm. I fear you must have hit your head upon a low-hanging tree trunk on the journey home! For the last time I saw you, you said nothing of this despite the topic of conversation which we were engaged in.

Even before this, ever since that witch set foot in my forest, you have said nothing many times over if I recall correctly - and I am not in the habit of doing otherwise. This girl you speak of. How am I to know she is truly the princess? I witnessed that elfling die as I witnessed hers and my own mother meet the same fate. Do not come to me now seeking aid, for I do not house nor have the patience for liars.

Radagast had not expected this to be easy.

Truthfully, he had expected Thranduil’s response to be littered with much more anger than it actually was, so he supposed that was a small mercy. Though he had no doubt that the Elvenking was angry enough and was just keeping it all close to his chest, silently seething as was sometimes his way.

Radagast lifted his head and watched you pottering around the kitchen for a while, a deep sadness in his heart, before he picked up his quill and scratched together a messy reply.

Unaware of any of this, you continued to pad around the little cottage, seeing to your chores and thinking about Thranduil, wondering when he would next travel this way. Radagast had been keeping quite a tight leash on you the last day or so and you were quite frustrated, though at least the birds and beasts came and visited you here.

My lord, I understand your anger and your hesitation. The events of the past still affect us all and you witnessed so much that day that it does not surprise me that it brings out unsavoury emotions. Regardless, I implore you to put aside your grievance with me and think of the poor girl. This is not her fault. Should she pay for the mistakes of others? In all truth, she has no idea at all as to who she truly is. She does not know who her father was or what happened that day. I have told her absolutely nothing about any of it so as to keep her safe.

This had raised Thranduil’s eyebrows indeed, because he had not expected that the princess would not have any idea as to her heritage. Her past, her parents, her history. The history they shared in a way.

How the wizard had hidden her away all these years also surprised him. Thranduil had passed that cottage many a time, had sought brief counsel from the man even, and not a whisper or an inkling that anybody else resided there had ever crossed his mind. He wondered if the wizard had perhaps placed some sort of spell upon her.

Then again, he supposed that if you could live without being discovered in his forest, then perhaps he was not quite as attuned to every little going on beneath the trees as he might like to think that he was. Thranduil did not yet connect you and this princess as being the same, for he knew the princesses true name and it was not Lothíriel.

I am unsure how to proceed.

The wizard sighed as he looked down at the one word answer he received from the Woodland Realm that morning. This was taking too long and Thranduil was too stubborn.

Radagast glanced out of the window he was sitting beside, watching you laugh with the birds in the garden. Your life was so important, he thought, and you were too precious a soul to be lost... especially after all the years he had spent raising you, almost as if you were his very own.

He turned back, nodding to himself. He had to keep pushing. In fact, he had to push harder. So, picking up his quill again, he scratched out his own one word reply to Thranduil and sent it winging its way through the forest with his trusted raven.

I beg of you to help her as your father would have wanted - as your mother would have wanted.

This had, of course, sent Thranduil into a mighty anger.

Feren had come running through to the room at the sound of a chalice shattering against the wall.

Thranduil turned to look at him, gritting his teeth. “That damned wizard!” He cried, throwing the letter to his desk and rolling his eyes. “Arrange a reply. Tell him I will do as he wishes.” Thranduil told Feren even as he was sweeping past him to storm off down the hallway and out to the stables.

He needed air.

[bellesdreamyprofile]

chapter 6 - 1947

Once John Martin had taken Cece to live in California with him, nothing was the same anymore. Everyone thought John was gonna last a week with the little girl, since they had been apart for years. Pandora gave him a month in total.

But Cece had been living in California for seven months now. Seven months of loneliness for Pandora, who barely woke up every day without the presence of her daughter. Her anchor, her strength. There's not a day where she woke up without regretting not fighting enough for her to stay. But how could she fight a man as persistent and as manipulative as her ex husband? Though Pandora was lucky to have a neighbor as thoughtful as Gladys. She checked on her every day after work as they drank their coffees together. Somehow she managed.

Elvis on the other hand was a different story. He didn't know where California was, so he thought he'd be able to visit her every weekend or vice versa. Days and weeks passed from her sudden departure, but not a day passed without him asking Pandora when Cece would be back. The answer was always the same.

"I don't know, darling."

But who knew then? The boy needed answers. He couldn't find them in his mama or Pandora. So he looked for answers in music. Cece's guitar had been sitting in her room at the same spot. Elvis occasionally stopped by, secretly hoping to find Cece waiting for him.

"Oh, sweet, sweet, Cece Flora."

His fingers pinched the guitar strings as his eyes shut. Emotions he had been burying suddenly resurfaced. How could she leave him? Didn't they have letters in California? She left and couldn't write back. Didn't he deserve an answer?

Oh, sweet, sweet, Cece Flora. How could you leave without (telling) me? Oh, I've denied Your departure, hopin' you'd be comin' back

Elvis was in denial and quite hopeless, since that was the first time he had picked up a pen and wrote something he felt was worth jotting down. Though he never finished the song or whatever that was gonna turn out to be. His words were fumbled and the guitar didn't sound as good as it did in his head. 

But one day he chose to just write. And he wrote until his hand ached and his fingers had little bruises. He wrote until Pandora sent him home. But before he went he kindly asked her to send Cece the song as one of his never-answered letters.

"Could you please send Cece this song I wrote for her?"

Pandora smiled and nodded at his sweet gesture.

"Of course, Elvis."

And just like Elvis had predicted, weeks passed and she never wrote back.

Despite what people were thinking of her, Cece's life had become a living hell. The hot California weather, which she wasn't used to, was slowly killing her and unable to let her get used to it.

Her daddy, John Martin, brought her to live with his new family, tearing her away from her own. Her heart ached every time he laughed and joked with his new kids. Was she difficult to laugh with? Is that why he left in the first place? Because she wasn't funny enough or because her jokes weren't as hilarious as theirs were?

Either way she never got along with, what they now legally were, her step siblings. They never cared for her either so the feeling was mutual. Her little escape was her room where she spent hours writing letters to Elvis about her day and ideas of their future once she got back to Tupelo.

Seven months and her letters never got an answer. Was he hurt by an action she had no control over?

A/N: how are you liking it this far? comment and leave a <3 xx

index chapter 7

[mesillusionssousecstasy]

The Fall of the House of Usher : Quotes

"- And if anyone, anyone comes after us, we will exhaust our arsenal until the threat's neutralized. - By neutralized, do you mean sued into oblivion, taken out of the Board, out of the will, on the streets... - Neutralized. Like dead. (Episode 1)

"- Algorithms aren't high tech. They've been around since antiquity. An algorithm is just a finite sequence of all defined instructions to solve a problem, or perform a computation." (Episode 2)

"- Nothing worth having is ever easy." (Episode 2)

"- It's better, I promise, in the moment just before than in the moment after." (Episode 2)

"- We need to talk because when people ask, there are some things you absolutely cannot say." (Episode 3)

"- That's why we've a charity wing, so you paste someone's face on it." (Camille - Episode 3)

"- We remember that he did it, so he did it." (Episode 3)

"- Because opportunity doesn't give a fuck what you're going through." (Episode 3)

"- That's why they hate us. Not because we grabbed the opportunity, but because they didn't." (Episode 3)

"- Like, I make video games, you know? (Leo) - You don't make video games. You give money to people who make video games. No, no. An idea is nothing. An idea is fart that your brain makes. But if you patent an idea, well, then it's an asset. (Camille - Episode 3)

"- You're gonna do the smart thing and go back to your crossword puzzle or else I'll have you fired and sued." (Episode 3)

"- What's a six-letter word for "fucked"?" (Episode 3)

"- I'm gonna need you to tell me who the fuck you think you are." (Episode 3)

"- I can hear Camille's voice in my head right now. "Satin is silk for poor people, no one should wear it to a funeral, unless they died in it." Fuck's sake." (Leo - Episode 4)

"- The other go-to coping mechanism in my family. It's when you direct your more intense reactions towards something or someone that doesn't feel threatening. So you get to react and be angry, be abusive, be violent, even, but you don't risk significant consequences." (Episode 4)

"- Denial, displacement, projection." (Episode 4)

" - But see, I wanted something better. Something better for him. For all of them." (Episode 4)

"- A trait of mine that seemed to skip them somehow... sublimation. That is something that is one of the few coping mechanisms that's considered positive. Sublimation is when a person chooses to redirect strong emotions into an object or an activity that's appropriate and safe. So, instead of lashing out at your employees, you pour your energy into kickbox..." (Episode 4)

"- You drive a car like that, you make a statement. About who you are, where you're going, and how you get there." (Episode 4)

"- Now, let's get a drink, huh? It's gotta be noon somewhere." (Roderick - Episode 4)

"- Something in coke for you? You don't want the designer stuff. It's too dangerous." (Leo - Episode 4)

"- Are you mistaking me for a civilian? I'm not a fucking civilian." (Frederik - Episode 4)

"- You're not who I thought you were. Smart girls are only sex until they don't wanna fuck you, and then they're competition, and then what do you do? You take them down a peg." (Episode 5)

"- It's an opportunity. He's underestimated you. That's a gift. A failure of imagination. He sees you as formidable, he locks down, closes ranks, shuts the doors, battens the hatches. You are a face, you're not a mouthpiece, so just smile and shut the fuck up." (Episode 5)

"- Look, I'm shit at preambles. I made a life by getting to the point, so..." (Episode 5)

"- Why is this happening? - Life is insane. It is madness. The sooner you understand that, the better off you'll be." (Episode 6)

"- Reality's not what it used to be. All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream. For example.... As those who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night. (Roderick) - Grandpa, are you okay? (Lenore) - I am. I'm fine. I'm just... It's been quite a week." (Roderick - Episode 6)

"- Men have called me mad But the question is not yet settled. As to whether madness is or is not the loftiest intelligence." (Episode 6)

"- Shut your mouth, get your shit together. The fuck is wrong with you?" (Episode 6)

"- I don't know anything about anything." (Episode 6)

"- Men are as stupid as they are simple. You're better off. Oh, my God, my first husband. I thought I missed him, but that was just this temporary insanity. This burp your heart goes through. He was fun to ride. Boy. Men, when they think they're immortal, all they want to do is fuck. When they figure out they're going to die, all they want to do is fuck. (Madeline - Episode 6)

"- You don't have to be a tyrant, but if you don't want to be consistently cruel, then you have to be sufficiently brutal at least once to establish authority." (Episode 7)

"- Everything has a price. Every negotiation's a point of entry. Every deal is simply an expression of will. Mutual will." (Episode 7)

"- You're a collection of impeccable, elaborate masks in orbit of a stunted heart. And I understand. You find an adversary, you kill them. You find a hurdle, you jump it or dismantle it. You find a locked door, you pry it open." (Episode 7)

"- Don't be stupid. Can you imagine what that would look like? My own wife trying to get off my own drug. It's a PR nightmare." (Roderick - Episode 7)

"- All soaked with feelings of absolute desperation and dread." (Episode 7)

"- Basically, the closest analogy I can think of is a fish being pulled out of water, only at least the fish gets to die." (Roderick - Episode 7)

"- So, I will take there years of hell over a lifetime with you." (Juno - Episode 7)

"- He and I share that as well. We both understand that... language in its highest expression is musical. What's a poem, after all, if not a safe space for a difficult truth. So there is a limit. (Verna) - No, it's not a limit, it's a standard." (Episode 8)

"- I don't want it, any of it, if it involves serving at some man's pleasure." (Madeline - Episode 8)

"- One of my favorite things about human beings. Starvation, poverty, disease, you could fix all that, just with money. But everyone loves something. And that love there's collateral. (Verna) - No. I have no collateral. Collateral is leverage. And I won't be leveraged. No man or woman has leveraged me in 70 years of life. And I'm not going to cede that ground, not this close to the end." (Arthur Pym - Episode 8)

[tomjamesavery]

What a World - Chapter Update! Harry finds himself on a somewhat spiritual journey, or to put it simply, a train to a place he hadn't been to before, yet he isn't quite sure what really brought him there. He soon finds the culprit, a culprit with red hair and brown eyes. Bringing him a long overdue reunion with an old friend that might even (probably(definitely)) be more. This Fanfic might not be for everyone, it will eventually, turn into a "Mr. and Mrs. Smith" kind of story, only that Harry and Ginny aren't Special Agents but politicians and diplomats, fighting battles with arguments rather than guns. Draco also plays a big role and his (platonic) relationship with Harry. The Hinny includes: Best friends to lovers, pining, being in denial, and loads of loads of fluff. Read the sixth Chapter on: AO3 Or start from the beginning. Here is a little snippet from the Sixth Chapter Chapter Six - His Calling

Thirty minutes later he was sitting on his sofa, a thick, knitted, woolen blanket covering his lap -courtesy of Mrs. Weasley.  He held the phone in his right hand, a freshly made -and still steaming hot- cup of ginger tea in the left.

He started to type in the numbers, and to his own chastise, he noticed that he was shaking slightly. Let's ignore that.

0-7-5-3-3 9-2-7-6-0-5 He swallowed, why was he so nervous, it was only Ginny, the most natural person to talk to he knew. No. -there was.

His thumb reluctantly pressing down on the “Call” button. 

White noise. Beeping. Waiting. It felt like millennia. 

“-Weasley.”  The all-so-familiar voice suddenly sounded from the speaker.

Harry’s mouth dried up, no single word able to leave it.

“Hello? Is someone there?”  The soft voice asked.

Talk. Words. Something.

“Oh, erm, hey it's me, Harry.”  God, what was happening to him? 

“Harry! You’ve received my letter-” Ginny’s voice was full of eagerness and excitement, which for some unknown reason made his stomach tingle, the simple thought of him being the culprit of her good mood did that.

“-How are you, I was hoping you’d call me today, it has been ghastly, and I am in dire need of a best friend to vent to.”

Harry grinned, still feeling the tingles in his stomach. They must’ve been due to his nervousness, that had it to be. “I am good, had a boring few days at uni, also worked out yesterday and even cooked something, but that’s pretty much it.”

“Well that sounds like all is in good order, I imagine sharing a case study with Malfoy can be straining on the nerves.”

He had to agree with that assessment.  “Yeah, can’t say I enjoy it. But it is what it is, I can’t change it, so I guess complaining won’t help either.”

He heard her snort from the other side. “You men and your weird logic of no-complaining. Sometimes venting about something is the most healing and relieving thing you can do, you should try it.”

He guessed she had a point with that. ...

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Feelings Realization Masterlist

and maybe we’ll work this out (ao3) - localopa

Summary: old habits die hard. sometimes those habits can make your flatmate kiss you and realize, shit, you’re in love with them.

A Series of Phan Vignettes (ao3) - sasquatchwithawatch (orphan_account)

Summary: Phil's up late reading phanfiction one night, and Dan catches him at it. Things get awkward, tense, incredibly confusing- and neither one is sure if things will ever go back to the way they were. Neither one is sure if that's what they want.

a theism in evolution (ao3) - Tarredion

Summary: The sungod, Phil, sends letters to Mother Gaia. He puts all his worries into words… even when he himself can't see right through them

Bad at Being Straight (ao3) - Masterread

Summary: Ace!Phil and very gay Dan slowly realizing they may be more than friends, but Phil's not entirely sure how that's going to work out...

Blind Date (ao3) - Phandiction

Summary: PJ and Louise know Dan and Phil have feelings for each other that they refuse to admit to one another so the two set them uo on a blind date. imagine their surprise.

Dearest (ao3) - americanphancakes

Summary: On Valentine's Day, Dan surprises Phil with the news that he's been casually seeing a girl for about 6 months.

Jealousy and the denial thereof ensues.

No Homo Howell - ticklishhpickle

Summary: Dan and Phil are just two platonic bros. Dan doesn’t care what his best friend Louise has to say about it. He’s allowed to be straight and think that Phil has the most breathtaking eyes he’s ever seen, okay?

No longer a spider (ao3) - sweetlildudez

Summary: Dan howell hates spiders, but he loves feeling free.

Reconciliation of the Hopeful Kin (ao3) - Yiffandquiff (paradisobound)

Summary: Phil has been friends with Dan for as long as he can remember. But when he leaves Dan behind to go to University, he doesn’t expect for his crush on Dan to grow more when he sees how different Dan looks now. Living in Manchester, he gets called home to help with his father’s sudden illness. But during this time, Phil decides to contact Dan again. Reconnecting with each other, Phil realizes he doesn’t want to go back to Manchester without telling Dan how he feels first.

Seeing The Real Me (ao3) - LittleLola1114

Summary: Neko Dan and Phil have been inseparable friends for the past few years now and now that Dan's 18, they decided to move in together and move away to a place that accepts Dan for who he is- a neko. Everyone can see the sexual tension that they have, well everyone except Dan and Phil. It's only after a situation involving the police and almost getting arrested along with a panic attack that Phil finally acknowledge what they have together and takes the leap of faith.

something to play for (ao3) - spaceandvinyls

Summary: “the world doesn’t revolve around basketball, lester.”

a basketball!au where phil is the school’s star player and dan is his best friend, watching from the sidelines. everything changes when the team makes it to state championships for the first time in ten years and dan and phil realize they want something more than friendship.

Thankful For a Second Chance (ao3) - thatsthephan

Summary: A Thanksgiving fic in which Dan spends Thanksgiving with Phil’s family, and they both realize the things they’re really thankful for in life. And not just tastebuds and the ability to cook.

That's It (ao3) - Phandiction

Summary: Phil comes to terms with hidden emotions he's felt for Dan since the day they met at the train station and confronts him.

[amyreadsandstresses]

AMY'S DAILY FIC REC

Today, BBC Sherlock and Teen Wolf

*Looking Down - HPswl_cumbercookie

6k, 1/1, Johnlock, Panic Attacks, Trauma, Acrophobia, Greg is a good friend, Hurt/Comfort

Sherlock's time away in Serbia has led to a rather severe manifestation of Acrophobia, which culminates in a severe panic attack and leads to some much needed confessions between our Baker Street Boys.

*The End - SherKat

5k, 6/6, Sherlock Holmes & John Watson, Identity Crisis, Ella Thompson, Mycroft Holmes, Trauma

After the fiasco at Sherrinford and Musgrave Hall, Sherlock is more than a bit not good.

And John has yet to learn that words, especially thoughtless ones spoken in haste, can cut very deeply indeed.

*What Was Different - thelookyouredoingthelookagain

17k, 9/9, Johnlock, Internalized Homophobia, First Time, Sherlock's Past, Gay Sherlock, Bisexual John Watson

John's list of assumptions about gay relationships surprises Sherlock. So the detective decides to enlighten the doctor.

*Denial - A_Candle_For_Sherlock

4k, 1/1, Johnlock, Sherlock's Past, Gay Sherlock, Past Viclock, Gay Bar, Friends to Lovers, Fluff, No smut

Written for a Tumblr prompt by grumpybijohn: "Imagine john and sherlock going to a gay bar for a case and the bartender/manager recognizes sherlock and is all like, 'Sherlock!! I haven’t seen you in years! How are you? Is this your boyfriend?'”

Or, what happens when denial finally gets too hard to maintain.

*On Blanket Forts And Waffles - reveling_in_mayhem

15k, 1/1, Johnlock, Parentlock, Rosie Watson, Sheer Fluff, First Kiss, Getting Together

John was happy with his life with Rosie and Sherlock. He had a lovely daughter and a wonderful best friend.

A sleepover in the living room wouldn't change any of that.

*Deductions Amiss - alice9

3k, 1/1, Johnlock, Confused Sherlock, Hurt/Comfort, Everything is actually fine, Implied/Referenced Infidelity

He sees, observes, and deduces, and the results leave him heartbroken. But he will do anything to keep John, even if it means having to keep his pain hidden and his mouth silent.

*I Can Carry You - lurikko

18k, 4/4, Johnlock, Dubious Consent, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fuck or Die

“I need you to do it for me,” Sherlock said.

*Looking Back, Moving Forward - Schattengestalt

12k, 2/2, Johnlock, Trans Sherlock, TW: Misgendering, TW: Past Transphobia, Supportive John, First Kiss, Domestic Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Childhood Memories, Body Dysphoria, Happy Ending

John believes that he has learned everything there is to know about Sherlock in the years that they have lived together. That is, until an unexpected letter arrives that challenges his view of his best friend.

*A (Sort of) Fairytale - briecheesie, daunt

25k, 1/1, Sterek, Fox!Stiles, Getting Together, Beautiful Illustrations, Hurt/Comfort, Magic, Romance

The summer after senior year starts normally enough, with the gang spending their final months before college together at the Martin family's lake house. Then Jackson stumbles onto the burial ground of a witch's ex-husband, Stiles is magically turned into a fox, and things somehow manage to get worse from there. The gratuitous Princess Bride references are only of moderate help.

[beewritesstuff]

One Taste Could Send A Man To Heaven- Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Summary:

A year has passed in peace and love. Then, a letter arrives.

This is a spiritual successor to the first 11 chapters- a series looking into the small and momentous occasions in these lives.

Notes:

I'm switching from second to third person- I feel it makes more sense for this new arc of story! Vivi was my imagined name for the fictional 'you' of part one. She is all of us who want to be.

Plus, Vivi means "joy, or exuberant, done joyfully", so it also could simply be a Latin nickname for you from Gaster's muddled memory of the language.

Gaster blinked at the heavy parchment in his hand, mind racing.

The coronation of Prince Asriel as crown prince had been the talk of the city, perhaps even the world, ever since its announcement six months before. Their majesties had recently sent invitations to thousands but his was of a different nature, arriving with seals and ribbons, the Queen's words firm, mournful, and final.

"My Lord Grace,

Time passes, yet so little changes.

Your presence is both required and greatly desired by the Throne at his majesties coronation. The security of the event, appearance of our power, and safety of our people are of utmost importance, and like the general I once was, I am forced again to call my greatest soliders to me in this time of great strife and potential violence. Your skills and Gifts cannot be denied, nor can your penchant for avoiding large events at all costs. This is not one that We can afford you the dignity of being absent or anonymous, and We understand and acknowledge the weight beneath this seemingly simple order.

I also cannot deny my desire for the last surviving, original member of my parliament to be by my side as We face the emissaries of this strange, new world. Despite your constant denials, I was continually impressed by your grasp of decorum in those long ago times. Now I must require that you be properly re-acknowledged in your position within our society, with all the requirements and expectations that entails.

I understand the burden this places on your heart- expectations are not a healthy thing for a burgeoning partnership. Still, duty is duty, which is why I write this at my husband's side, and not from a place of more delightful company.

Monsters are alive and real again, and the public opinion (momentarily) demands we receive recompense for our harsh treatment. If part of that recompense includes lands and titles acknowledged, as We believe it will, then you are my most valuable asset in this coming future, more priceless than any gem or treasure of our kingdom.

I will say it plainly. You alone are of the originating, natural born greater nobility still living, and at the coronation, I require you to acknowledge your ducal claim and act as the arm of the throne that you so despise being. If she is to be a part of that life, then there are expectations to be set that she may not tolerate, and elevations that will be difficult to convey. If this is so, I ask that you will remember your honor and oaths to the throne, ancient but no less binding. We have been gone thousands of years, yet the expectations of wealth, nobility, and partnerships of love are scarcely changed from our time.

Her image will be scrubbed, her presence in every way maintained by those trained to do so. Freedoms she has grown used to will evaporate like morning fog; travel, casual appearance, even the ability to pick all she wears and buys. She will be drowned in gifts, and her home is not adequate even for 6 months of their storage, not to mention the risk of danger that so casual a living place invites with its location and build. You are an incredibly formidable man, but even the worst criminal can find luck once.

I understand the pain of what I ask, and the difficulty of the conversations to come. I hope beyond hope that she can find sympathy in her heart for your position, and the endless patience and tolerance required to have her life shift so dramatically.

(Written in a looser, less formal hand)

Formal phrasing allows so many evils to carry a veneer of palatability. I wish there was another way, Gaster, as I wish I had not spent the last forty years forgetting my last cousin on my mother's side. What I would not have given for the friend you once were to me, these horrible years...

No matter. I am sorry. We are sorry, though you know that he will never admit to it. The crown is a yoke that we cannot throw, and you are a rein that I cannot drop.

It will be a spring event, to celebrate new beginnings. The treasury will handle your expenses, and hers, if there are to be any. I pray that there will. The central records are rebuilding your identity and will soon have the appropriately aged writs of inheritance, endorsement, and rights prepared for your signature

(The ring is not original- if you can possibly remember where you left it, the old palace is practically a museum, untouched and undisturbed. For sentiment, I would love to see it if you find it. Do you remember all of us trying to fit every initial on the backs? Trinket insisted on all eight middle names...didn't we make her carve them on the band instead of the back of the signet?)

There is no easy way in my heart to end this letter. Please, Angels and Stars, be kind just a single time to this man who I once again must ask to do so much.

Her Royal Majesty

Queen Toriel Dremurr

Of the line of Constellatio

He dropped the letter and the signet ring that came with it, and stared out the kitchen window at the rising sun.

(Click link at the top to read the full chapter!)

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

THE GOP DOUBLES DOWN

TCinLA

I thought waking up this morning to see a photo of Trump at his hatealong last night in Waco with him standing in front of photos of the January 6 insurrection while the “song” “Justice for All” he recorded with the “J6 Prison Choir,” the insurrectionists he claims are patriotic Americans who participated in a “righteous protest” - essentially watching him remove the mask and admit he did in fact incite the insurrection and saying “Yeah, I did it - what are you going to do about it?” - was as strange as things were going to get this final Sunday in March, 2023.

I thought having a confessed statutory rapist and draft dodger - one-hit wonder Ted Nugent - calling Volodomyr Zelenskyy a “homosexual weirdo” was a about as crass a new low for the MAGAts as things were going to get.

I thought having Marjorie Traitor Goon publicly creating an alternative reality by calling the J6 defendants political prisoners who are being “badly treated” in a facility where they have access to computers and the internet, exercise and health services - all completely unavailable to the average inmate of the DC Jail - was a completely laughable denial of reality.

I was wrong.

Yesterday, the three blind mice - Gym Jordan and his co-conspirators masquerading as chairmen of three House committees - responded to District Attorney Alvin Bragg’s reply to their first letter sent this past week by doubling down in a second letter on their intention to intervene in the New York City investigation ahead of possible criminal charges against Trump, revealing they plan to to consider whether Congress should take legislative action on three separate issues “to protect former and/or current Presidents from politically motivated prosecutions by state and local officials.” In other words, to find a way to make such a prosecution of Donald Trump impossible.

Trump admits his complicity in the January 6 insurrection and leaders of the Republican Party take steps to insulate him from accountability before they even know what specific charges he will be indicted on.

The Republicans declare war on reality and the rule of law. THAT is as strange as things got on this final weekend of March, 2023.

Bragg responded to the letter after it became public last night, writing, “We evaluate cases in our jurisdiction based on the facts, the law, and the evidence. It is not appropriate for Congress to interfere with pending local investigations. This unprecedented inquiry by federal elected officials into an ongoing matter serves only to hinder, disrupt and undermine the legitimate work of our dedicated prosecutors. As always, we will continue to follow the facts and be guided by the rule of law in everything we do.”

A spokesperson for Oversight Committee Democrats has stated, “Chairman Jordan, Comer, and Steil believe former President Trump is above the law. This outrageous position is further evidence of former President Trump and MAGA extremists’ hold on Congressional Republicans.”

The MAGA Republican Party has now officially declared war on the rule of law.

Here are the high points from the Letter:

“Notably, your reply letter did not dispute the central allegations at issue—that you, under political pressure from left-wing activists and former prosecutors in your office, are reportedly planning to use an alleged federal campaign finance violation, previously declined by federal prosecutors, as a vehicle to extend the statute of limitations on an otherwise misdemeanor offense and indict for the first time in history a former President of the United States.”

No, you morons, it wasn’t “previously declined” by federal prosecutors. The Trump-appointed Attorney General Bill Barr, citing the so-called “Nixon rule” that a sitting president cannot be indicted and prosecuted, ORDERED the DOJ attorneys to drop the case.

“Contrary to the central argument set forth in your letter, this matter does not simply involve local or state interests. Rather, the potential criminal indictment of a former President of the United States by an elected local prosecutor of the opposing political party (and who will face the prospect of re-election) implicates substantial federal interests, particularly in a jurisdiction where trial-level judges also are popularly elected. If state or local prosecutors are able to engage in politically motivated prosecutions of Presidents of the United States (former or current) for personal acts, this could have a profound impact on how Presidents choose to exercise their powers while in office. For example, a President could choose to avoid taking action he believes to be in the national interest because it would negatively impact New York City for fear that he would be subject to a retaliatory prosecution in New York City.”

This is wholly and completely specious, but what Republican argument about anything isn’t?

“Likewise, because the federal government has a compelling interest in protecting the physical safety of former or current Presidents, any decision to prosecute a former or current President raises difficult questions concerning how to vindicate that interest in the context of a state or local criminal justice system. For these reasons and others, we believe that we now must consider whether Congress should take legislative action to protect former and/or current Presidents from politically motivated prosecutions by state and local officials, and if so, how those protections should be structured.”

“Second, the Committees’ inquiry has an obvious legitimate legislative purpose and is “a subject on which legislation could be had.” To begin with, as discussed above, Congress has a specific and manifestly important interest in preventing politically motivated prosecutions of current and former Presidents by elected state and local prosecutors, particularly those tried before elected state and local trial-level judges. Therefore, the Committee on the Judiciary, as a part of its broad authority to develop criminal justice legislation, must now consider whether to draft legislation that would, if enacted, insulate current and former presidents from such improper state and local prosecutions. These legislative reforms may include, for example, broadening the existing statutory right of removal of certain criminal cases from state court to federal court.”

Here is the argument to use the federal government to protect Trump.

“Moreover, as discussed above, your prosecutorial decision to indict a former President may cause a potential confrontation between federal and local law-enforcement authorities. Federal law requires the United States Secret Service to protect a former President.8 Therefore, your unprecedented prosecutorial decision raises the potential for conflict between the federal law-enforcement officials required to protect the former President and local law-enforcement officials required to enforce your indictment and exercise control of him throughout his presence in the local criminal justice system. Such a novel and potentially fraught collision of federal and local law-enforcement officials with the safety of a former President at stake is certainly a matter of interest for the Committees. The Committees’ oversight is necessary to inform potential legislation that would address or remedy any potential conflicts between federal and local authorities.”

You mendacious morons! It has already been established that state and local law enforcement would COOPERATE with the Secret Service, which would coordinate Trump surrendering after indictment. There is no possibility whatsoever of any “shoot out” happening.

This is the most audacious assault on the rule of law by the Republicans. They are ALL, each and every one of them, traitors to their oath to protect and defend the constitution against all enemies, foreign and domestic, because ALL THEM ARE THE DOMESTIC ENEMY.

[TCinLA]

[meadowofbluebells]

Find the Word Tag

Thank you for the tag, @enne-uni. :)

So, I have a lot of short story WiPs that I'm currently working on, so there were a lot of instances of these words. Though, a few of these sound insane without their context. Oh well.

WIP 1: And So To Queens Can Fall

Solana spent a couple more minutes in the room, unwilling to leave them just yet. She made sure to analyze her little girls as much as possible. The way Winifred wrinkled her nose whenever Vera was too loud. How Vera never stopped smiling, even in her sleep; her little ray of sunshine.

The little girl slowly blinked into consciousness. Her green eyes hazily fell on her mother. “Is it morning already?”

WIP 2: Denial (Working Title)

“Do you think there is a way to get back? I mean, we’re still talking. Maybe there is a puzzle piece that we’re just missing.” Gideon’s hands were wrapped around his knees and he was staring down at Atticus’ white sneakers.

WIP 3: Beloved

They had been collecting herbs all day, and her feet felt swollen from walking so far outside the city. So, when she saw the pretty white flowers with pink centers she was excited. She had immediately picked one and brought it to her nose, only to realize it smelled like rotting flesh. 

“Boo!” Andy flinched at the loud noise right next to her ear.

WIP 4: Powers (Working Title)

Thus, Graham spent most of his early childhood going to specialist after specialist. His parents drove to appointments early in the morning or flew across the country for answers. Nothing ever came of it, though.

 As Graham slowly sat up, wincing at the pull on his bruised skin, he watched the pristine white pages of their test flutter to the ground like confetti at the end of a performance.

WIP 5: The Pirate Boy

Yet, as she walked around the house, everything else felt familiar. By the time she had circled back to the attic, she felt no closer to an answer. The only thing out of place was the wooden ladder painted white.

She looked around the tables again. Her eyes focused on each member individually. Lord Sock was blushing all the way to the roots of his balding white hair as he talked to Miss Rock. She, in turn, was smiling so widely that her crow’s feet looked like half-stars on each side of her head.

The next morning, she woke up to a child’s laugh. The sound was loud but melodic. However, to Carla, who got precious few hours of sleep, the sound was grating.

“They are rather loud, are they not?” She said to the boy.

However, the next morning, when she raced out of her bedroom in a bid to get to work as soon as possible, there was no attic. She had stopped in her tracks, one rm hanging out her blazer and the other brushing through her hair.

WIP 6: Signed, Death

The door creaked open as he flicked on the lights - stumbling into the orderly room with a jubilant stride. He threw on his jacket and stuffed his wallet into one of the front pockets. Then, with a satisfied nod, turned to leave. However, as he pivoted, a flash of white on his desk caught his attention. With a furrowed brow, David turned to examine the object - a pristine envelope with his name written in elegantly looping letters.

When David awoke, he was surrounded by white walls. For a moment he thought death had taken pity on him and heeded his cries. However, the overpowering scent of hand sanitizer quickly destroyed that hope. His hazy eyes slowly focused enough to see the face of a smiling doctor swimming in front of him. 

There was a fine mist in the air as David drove home. The white fog shied away from the street lamps and his headlights Still, he was practically squinting by the time he turned onto one of the less-used side streets. The sound of other motorists arriving home late drifted further and further away as he drove.

WIP 7: The Grim Reaper (Working Title)

 Her tirade was cut off by a cold sensation on her forearm. She turned around sharply to glare at Grim. “What?”

WIP 8: The Wedding (Working Title)

Zoe was dressed in an off-the-shoulder gown with an a-line skirt. The fabric was as white as snow.

“I think you should try something that is more of an off-white.” Melody said as she turned back toward Zoe, her eyelashes fluttering rapidly.

WIP 9: Up a Tree (Working Title)

Barnett snorted. “Like you did this morning?”

“You’ll thank me in the morning.”

This was fun. :)

I'll tag @fleurtygurl and @lassiesandiego. Of course, anyone else who wants to take part is welcome.

Your words are: -Sky -Dream -Melody -Twirl

[inquisimer]

fucked around and got attached

for @febuwhump day 6 (you lied to me) - an argument between the Trevelyan siblings over secrets discovered once Drew became the Inquisitor

read it on ao3 here

Female Trevelyan & Male Trevelyan | Rated T | 1139 words | CW: past violence, implied/referenced abuse

-

The battlements are colder, now that he knows the truth.

Being the Inquisitor came with all sorts of opportunities and power. That was why he’d agreed. It also, apparently came with a trove of secrets—useful things, the spymaster said. Even the dirty ones. Even the ones he didn’t want to know.

“Drew? Leliana said you were looking for me.”

He closed his eyes. Even hearing her voice soured his stomach. And he was going to have words with his spymaster—if they wanted him in charge, they needed to listen when he asked to be alone.

“Well, she lied. I’m not in the mood for company.”

Even without looking at her, he could see how her brow furrowed. In the past few months he’d made himself intimate with her every expression, drinking up that which he’d been deprived like a man starved. He hadn’t thought he’d regret it, but the clarity with which his mind’s eye showed her face only hurt him now.

Once, he thought the worst thing she could be was dead. He thought wrong.

“Drew?”

She sounded confused. Probably because he’d been terse with her—he was never terse with anyone. Drew took a deep breath and tried to keep his anger from showing when he looked over his shoulder.

Judging by how her expression fell flat, he failed.

“You know, I didn’t think being their Inquisitor would be all that different from being their Herald,” he said. “I was already playing decision-maker for them. It was just a formality.”

“But it turns out,” he fought to keep his voice conversational, “that there were plenty of things they left me out of the loop on. Things they didn’t think I needed to know, despite using me at every turn.”

His fist clenched around the letter from Leliana and he looked his sister directly in the eye.

“Things you didn’t think I needed to know.”

Not even a flinch. Either Leliana prepped her—and he wondered why she was here, if that was the case—or she was actually just that cold. With a scoff, Drew thrust the crumpled parchment toward her.

The confusion instantly dropped from her expression. Just another act.

“You lied to me,” he said. All the hurt and betrayal wrapped up in a simple accusation. Words didn’t feel like enough. “I trusted you, and you lied to me.”

“That’s how the world works, Drew,” she said. No reaction, no anger, no denial. “If you aren’t prepared for everyone around you to fuck you over at any given moment, you’re just asking to be played.”

“That’s bullshit!” He slammed his fist against the stone and it cracked under the force magic that spilled between his fingers. “That’s not a way to live, always afraid and guarded.”

“You’re right—it’s a way to survive. Don’t tell me you didn’t learn something similar in the Circle.”

“Of course I did. Which is exactly why I know it’s not right!”

“Don’t be a child,” Acacia scoffed. “Yes, I lied to you. You didn’t want to hear the truth. You didn’t want to know that I struggled, or if I did you wanted to know that it was over. That I made it through. And I did. Just…not as cleanly as someone proper as yourself might have wished.”

“I lied to you,” she repeated coldly. “And I’d do it again.”

Drew reeled back as if she’d physically slapped him. “You…would?”

“I would.”

“Don’t you…care about me?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Well, you don’t lie to people you care about!”

Acacia snorted. “You’re thinking in a utopia, Drew. If you really think that, the first person you’re lying to is yourself.”

“Not about anything important,” he clarified. “There’s a difference between telling someone their outfit is flattering and telling them that they’ve made an honest life when really they’ve been a thief for six years.”

“An accountant for a thieves guild. If you’re going to attempt an insult, use the facts at your disposal.” Acacia folded her arms across her chest. “And you didn’t need to know. It was—is—baggage. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“It’s part of who you are,” Drew said. “Of course it matters.”

“It’s in the past. Truly, now. You know who I am today.”

He scowled. She didn’t understand, or she was being purposefully obtuse. Either way, he was equal parts annoyed and devastated that she just…didn’t seem to care.

“Where you’ve been changes who you are now, ‘cacia.”

“Not in any way that matters.”

“No?” he challenged. “Tell me then: have you been working with Leliana to leverage your underworld contacts, or not?”

She hesitated and that was all the answer he needed. His breath fogged around his nose as he exhaled his anger. How could he ever trust anything she told him again? Did he even know her, know her mind?

A small voice in his head scoffed at him; of course he didn’t. A few months in a catastrophic whirlwind hardly rivaled two decades apart.

“It’s still affecting who you are now,” he pointed out. “It can’t be wholly irrelevant.”

Her fists clenched where they pressed against her side. “I might be using what I learned then, but I don’t make choices the same way. I don’t make choices for the same reasons. It’s different, and that’s why it doesn’t matter.”

“Don’t get caught up in the semantics.”

“Isn’t that what you’re doing?”

“You lied about who you are!” Drew snapped. His extensive patience wore thin at her repeated nonchalance. “It’s not the same thing.”

“Isn’t it?”

Exasperated, Drew threw his hands to the sky.

“Why did you come out here, if you didn’t want to have an honest conversation about it?”

“Because you won’t get anything done while you’re brooding about this,” she said. “You have power now. People will lie to you, people will use you, people will do anything they can to take advantage of you. If you don’t learn to deal with it in a less emotional way, you’ll never get anywhere in this game.”

Drew spun away from her. She wasn’t wrong, precisely, but she wasn’t right either. He just couldn’t articulate why. Instead he satisfied himself with glaring down at the bustling courtyard below.

He hurt. From being wrong, from being wronged, from not being able to do a damn thing about any of it. Despite the influence and power he apparently held.

“Grow a thicker skin, Inquisitor.” Acacia tossed the cold warning over her shoulder. “Or the world will grow it for you.”

He shoved a fist against his teeth instead of screaming how he wanted. Skyhold’s mountain air stung the torn flesh when he pulled it away to breathe.

And just as he’d asked, he was alone again.

In more ways than one.

[yhwhrulz]

Charles Spurgeon's "Morning & Evening" Devotional for December 1

Morning

“Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling.”

Philippians 1:27-30

Philippians 1:28

He was most anxious that they should be united in eager zeal for the spread of the gospel, and present a bold front to their persecutors. Men call the courage of the saints obstinacy, and reckon them to be hardened heretics; but such boldness is to believers a token of divine favour.

Philippians 1:29 , Philippians 1:30

It would cheer the Philippian saints to remember that they suffered in good company, and were comrades with the apostle himself. Glad enough may we be to be ridiculed for Jesus sake, since we are thereby made partakers with the noble army of martyrs.

Philippians 2:1-16

Philippians 2:1 , Philippians 2:2

How urgently he pleads! How he multiplies expressions! Love among Christians is so precious that he begs for it as if for his life. Be it ours never to fan the flames of party-feeling, but always to increase the holy affection of our Christian brethren.

Philippians 2:4-11

Jesus is the divine example of love and self-denial, and as we hope to be saved by him we must diligently copy him. He is now exalted to the highest glory as the reward of his voluntary humiliation, and by the same means must his disciples rise to honour. We must stoop to conquer. He who is willing to be nothing shall be possessor of all things.

Philippians 2:12 , Philippians 2:13

We work out what the Lord works in. The grace of God is not a reason for idleness, but for diligence. As both will and work are given us of God, let us will with firm resolution and work with dauntless perseverance; for so shall we fulfil the good pleasure of the Lord.

Philippians 2:14 , Philippians 2:15

We cannot be blameless if we murmur and dispute, for such things naturally lead to sin. Our lights cannot shine if instead of trimming them we occupy ourselves with blowing out the lamps of others.

Philippians 2:16

We do not wish to rob faithful ministers of the result of their labours, and yet we shall do so unless we join heartily with our brethren in spreading the gospel, and do our best to live in holiness and Christian love.

Evening

“Stand fast in the Lord.”

Philippians 4

Philippians 4:1

He pleads with these two good women to end their differences. The worst results may arise from a quarrel, even when there are only two engaged in it, and those two are women.

Philippians 4:4

We cannot have too much holy rejoicing; we are to joy and re-joy, and then to rejoice again. See that this be done in this house all day long. Alas, none can truly rejoice but those who are in the Lord! Are we all in him?

Philippians 4:6

Be not careful, but prayerful. Prayer is the cure for care.

Philippians 4:7 , Philippians 4:8

Here is a mass of matter for thought. Take each word and study it, and then put it in practice. Every member of the family should learn this verse by heart; it is much in little, a catalogue of the practical virtues.

Philippians 4:9-14

Paul knew how to be poor, but he did not know how to be ungrateful. True ministers will work for the Lord, however badly their people may support them, yet it is well to treat them generously, and win their gratitude, for their Master is pleased when his servants are kindly used for his sake. Is there any deed of love which we can do for our pastor?

Philippians 4:15-19

This is a grand assurance. God is the giver, his infinite glory is the store, Jesus is the channel, and the supply knows no limit. What more can the most expanded desires wish for? This promissory note from the Bank of Faith makes all believers rich beyond a miser’s dream.

Philippians 4:23

Thus with an affectionate wish this fragrant letter of love comes to its close. May more of the tender spirit which it breathes be found in each one of us.

Copyright Statement This resource was produced before 1923 and therefore is considered in the "Public Domain".