#face that my existence isn’t worth anything. i won’t HAVE to live anymore. and i want to live but at the same time if i don’t have to be

[nonsensechemicals]

covert npd is awesome and i want to live and i’m going to listen to song about pirates

[raayllum]

Kpp’Ar doesn’t know what to make of the boy, at first. He’s heard of him of course — even this far near the Del Barian border of Katolis, gossip travels fast. In the four months since the war ended scarcely anyone has spoken of anything other than how — the boy king, his mage brother, the strangely absent Moonshadow elf turned ally. Kpp’Ar leaves wooden cabin once every two weeks to go to the marketplaces, and it’s enough to know that his former student’s reign was disastrously short-lived and violent. 

But no matter. He washed his hands of Viren’s crimes best he could years ago.

Or so he thought, before the loud knocking at his door.

He never got visitors even when living near inner Katolis in his great big manor, so the fact that someone has trekked all the way up the snowy side of the mountain to the cabin, miles away from anyone else... He opens his door with his cane gripped like a club in one hand, knowing his body isn’t what it used to be, frail from age and dark magic use (however disavowed). 

He doesn’t expect a young man, still a bit baby faced at no older than seventeen at most, surely, brown hair permanently stuck to one side of his head to be on the other side.

“No visitors,” he grouses and goes to shut the door.

The young man catches it with his boot and then his arm, a flash of his red scarf revealing a Katolian seal. “I’m not here to sell you anything,” he says quickly, “or anything like that. I’m here to ask—”

“I don’t do dark magic anymore, there’ll be no miracles here—”

“I don’t need your magic. I have my own. I just need information—about Viren.”

Kpp’Ar pauses. No one here knows who his former pupil is, and this boy is far from old enough to know first hand, so—Kpp’Ar stops trying to close the door. “Who are you?”

“I’m Prince Callum of Katolis,” the boy says. “High mage of my brother’s court.” He forces the opening wider and barrels in before Kpp’Ar can stop him, getting snow and wet boot-prints all over his wooden floor. The old mage can feel a headache coming on. “I’ve been doing research and Soren said you might—”

Soren. Kpp’Ar’s heart thuds dully in his chest. Good to know what Viren had done had been worth something. “What is it that you want to know, boy?”

“Dark magic,” he says. “Is there a spell that can bring someone back from the dead?”

Kpp’Ar recoils, eyes flashing. “That sort of knowledge is not—”

“I don’t want it,” the prince repeats, insisting. “The dead—should stay dead. I just need to know if it exists.”

“And why not ask Claudia?” Kpp’Ar demands. “Last I saw her, she had some of my tomes hidden under her floorboards.”

Callum’s expression hardens with familiarity and fatigue. “Claudia’s gone. She—she turned traitor too. And Viren is dead. I know magic, but I don’t know dark magic—and I don’t want to. I-I need to make sure she couldn’t bring him back.” 

Kpp’Ar had never been the best with people even before he’d become an outright recluse, but he looks at the way the prince carries himself—poised amid the uncertainty, tall under the weight on young shoulders—and well, if the rumours are to be believed, the boy’s connected to a primal source. Kpp’Ar had read stories, long thought to be nothing but myths...

He clears his throat and gestures. His kettle can take a little more water. “Would you like some tea?”

Callum blinks, then grins. “That would be great. Thank you.”

Thank you. Viren had said the same, bright-eyed on his doorstep when Kpp’Ar had finally relented to teach him, day after day of the teen showing up undeterred on his doorstep. 

So Kpp’Ar turns away and says the same as he did then. “Don’t thank me yet.” 

He’s never been a man to make promises, either. And no matter what answer the boy seeks, Kpp’Ar is sure the answer he’s given won’t be the one he wants. 

[yourdreamsyourwish-2]

I Just Wanted You to Know 

Word Count: 1,840

This is told in Yixing’s POV. I thought it fit well with the story. 

Trigger Warning: Depression, Alcoholism, Grief and Child Death (Talking about it). 

In the movies whenever someone is sad or feeling like life isn’t worth living anymore, it’s cloudy or almost constant rain.  However, as I gazed outside the window, all I saw was sunlight with bright blue skies as if it was mocking my existence in a way.  The world is happy, yet you're not.  

“Yixing.”  My therapist calls my name, for I don’t know how many times.  I glance over, looking at him, without actually seeing.  

“I’m sorry, what did you ask?”  I clarified, picking at a small skin that had come off at one of my nails. 

“Have you been to an AA meeting yet? Or at least tired?”  I glanced down at the scab, now a fresh drop of blood smeared over my skin.  

“I sat in the back, I didn’t talk or anything.” 

“But you went, so that’s an improvement.”  I nod, looking at his degree hanging on the wall to the right.  The sun bounced off the glass causing a ray of light that bounced around the room almost like a crystal.  If I looked hard enough I could see a rainbow in the beam.  

“Yixing.”  He said again softly.  I flashed back to him, his smile still on his face, always on, always caring.  

“I’m sorry, my mind is…”  

“I understand, addiction is hard at every stage.  I just asked, ‘How are you girls?’”  

“My girls?”  I felt the urge to pull out my wallet and look at the family photo, to see them if only for a second.  My peace, my world, the reason I’m still able to wake up.  They shouldn’t be the only reason, which is why I’m here.  That is too big of a burden for them, too heavy a load to carry for the rest of their lives. 

“I talked to them last night on the phone of course.  Their mom…I got to talk to her for a bit as well. She sounds…I miss seeing them everyday, but I understand.”  

“They are still at your in-laws?”  I nod, working on another bed of a nail.  

“It’s better for them, until I can get some control.  I’m not violent, never have been, I’m just…it’s not good for them to see me like this.  If it was just ____ and I, she would be with me, but it’s not just us.  It’s the five-”  I stop talking, the image of my girls flashing in my eyes, before I shake my head.  I could feel the wave of grief washing over me with each breath I took in. “Four…it’s just the four of us.”  

“Still not working?” 

“Work gave me another extension, I won’t need to go back to teaching until next year.  Tenure and all that, besides the temporary candidate might join as well.  He’s proving to be a very good professor.”  Silence fell over us, as he seemingly began to write something down. 

“You know you can talk about it if you want.”  

“She’s dead, no matter what I say will bring her back.” 

“It will help for you to-”

“I think we’re done for the day are we not?”  

“You still have 15 more minutes.”  He replied back.  “We can talk about something else now.”  I nod, wanting to clear my head of her smile.  “But I do want you to know, this will always be a safe place for you to open up.”  I nod, wipe away the tears that came out.  

“I think Wrexham might move to another league, don't you?”  The conversation changed to soccer, a sport I feel comfortable with, something that I can focus on, focus on the ball, focus on the goal at hand.  Just stop thinking, stop thinking, and for the next 15 minutes, I stopped thinking.  

🖤🖤🖤

The house is too quiet when I enter.  I lay my takeout on the kitchen counter, my eyes going to the giant bottle of whiskey.  The empty bottles of vodka and wine littered the counter top near the recycling bin.  Three boxes of beer empty, I couldn’t remember the last time I took out the recycling or the trash.  Was it last week, or the week before?

Sighing, I felt the itch at the back of my throat to pour myself a drink, to give in, to not feel, to stop thinking again.  Leaving the food on the counter, I go upstairs, feeling my phone vibrate, with a message from my wife.  Our picture together flashes behind her message, the five of us, all happy and smiling.  My eyes are only on her in the photo. Our last family portrait, even though we didn’t know it would be the last. 

I got to the top of the stairs, my gaze falling to the left where my daughters' rooms were all laid out.  It was a right turn to our suite, yet I found myself standing in front of her door.  The name is draped in purple, with different shades for each letter.  

“I want purple! Purple!”  Her voice rang in my ears, seemingly echoing off the walls as she cheered for the color. My hand shook as I opened up the door, allowing it to reveal the untouched room.  Nothing has changed since the morning we had left to go to the park.  Nothing at all, it stayed exactly the same as we had left it.  ____, couldn’t even go into the room anymore.  Even after the accident, my wife had the strength I couldn’t.  So many times I found her in a ball on the couch crying after the girls had gone to sleep.  They slept in our bed for the longest time, barely able to come to this side of the hallway.  My eyes danced around the room, hearing her tiny voice at each passing glance.    

“Bàba! Look!  Anna is about to be Queen!” the Frozen 2  DVD laid on the ground, next to her Finding Nemo.  I knew if I looked in the receiver I would find Encanto.  It had been her latest obsession, one we had to buy for her DVD TV we had gotten her on her fifth birthday.  In the back of our closet, sat her sixth birthday gift, a small how to sew kit with a child's machine.  Looking at her small bean bag chair, I saw the outfit she had me help choose. 

“All the other girls will be wearing pink.  Mama said Purple is royal, and you always call me princess, so Purple it is!”  She cheered, with the purple sundress she was to wear to classes the following week.  Everything, Everything in this room haunts me, now.  Yet there was no getting rid of it, no touching it.  I couldn’t even take a step inside without feeling like the world was going to cave in.  Her giggle echoed as I shut the door, trying to lock my own grief away if only for another moment. 

I made my way back down, my eyes landing on the bottle of Whiskey.  I grab a glass, no longer bothering with ice, pretending I don’t have a problem.  I wanted to drown, I wanted to stop thinking, stop hearing.  I brought the glass up, tears now falling freely, no longer hiding my anguish from myself.  My eyes caught the swing in the background, a memory from before, flashed in my head.  

“Why is Zŭfù sad?”  My four year old asked.  I picked her up, holding her on my lap, while we swung a little.  I gazed at my father through the glassdoors.  He sat on our couch, holding my mothers jade bracelet he had gotten her on their wedding day.  

“Zŭfù is missing Nǎinai.” 

“Are you sad as well Bàba?”  Her voice echoed.  I still haven’t gotten out of my mourning clothes.  ____ had taken our other two girls to pick up dinner for us.  I nodded, trying to keep from crying in front of her.  Her hand came up and wiped away a tear. 

“Don’t be sad Bàba.  Nǎinai always made me smile.”  It was simple logic for her.  It came so easy.  “Nǎinai told me, when I feel sad, to smile.”  Her arms wrapped my neck, while I silently cried to her shoulder.  Standing up, I smiled at her, blinking away tears. 

“Come on, I bet, Zŭfù would like the company right now.”  She nodded, holding onto me, as we went to comfort my father. 

Her toothy grin flashed in my mind.  I gazed down at the golden tint of liquid in the glass before throwing it in the sink.  It shattered at the contact of the metal.  Grabbing the bottle I poured the rest of it down the drain, not thinking as I moved on to the wine.  As each bottle went down and down, I kept pouring all of it, until I knew there was nothing left.  Our island was covered in empty bottles, nothing left for me to find, nothing left for me to drown in.  Going outback, I grab the recycling bin, filling it up with every bottle left before placing it back outside.  Ignoring the food on the counter, I run and grab my car keys.  

🖤🖤🖤

I hesitated when I knocked on the door.  My mother-in-law had always been kind to me, even though what was happening.  When she answered, my eyes looked red from tears, while she merely smiled and gave me a big hug.  

“It’s about time.”  She whispered, patting my back. 

“I’m sorry it took so long.”  She nodded, before nodding to the stairs.  “Third door on the right.”  She gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze of encouragement. 

“No need to apologize.  I’m sure ____ won’t stand for it either.”  I run up the stairs, taking two at a time before opening the door.  I see you, lying there next to our two daughters fast asleep.  I pause staring at you, wondering what you would do, what you would say.  I haven’t physically seen you in what feels like a lifetime, but probably was only a few weeks.  One heartbeat later, you were in my arms, clinging to me for dear life.  Silently crying into my shoulder, while I hugged you tightly.  

“I’m sorry.”  I whisper, kissing your forehead, your temple, anywhere I can find. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be there with you.”  

“No, this was something I had to do alone.” I kissed you, deeply feeling the wave of emotions.  Grief, anxiety, regret, love.  It was a mix bag with each passing wave.  

“Yixing-”  You look up at me, with those beautiful eyes.

“We can talk tomorrow.  Over breakfast.  I’m not going anywhere.”  You nod, kissing me again.  She pulls me over to the bed, waking up the girls, slowly.  

“Bàba!”  they start to yell, jumping up on me for hugs.  I wrap them both in a tight embrace, keeping them together.  I kissed both of their heads, holding them tighter, while I felt you kiss my own.  

Again in this moment, I stop thinking and in the next I begin to feel alive once more.  

🖤🖤🖤

Dictionary According to Google Translate: 

Zŭfù - means Grandfather in Mandarin  Nǎinai - means grandmother in Mandarin Bàba - Means father in Mandarin 

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[iamdrowninghelpme98]

Entry 28:

2024

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

December

I’ve been thinking about doing it again.

I can’t help it. Somehow thinking about not being around brings a strong sense of peace and comfort. I guess writing about it is better than acting on it.

I just feel ready. I’m too tired to keep fighting.

I don’t know if I would leave a note this time. Who would I even address it to anyway?

Besides, I have nothing to say. Not anymore. No one is listening. No one understands.

Maybe someone will find this blog, maybe they won’t, but it won’t matter. Nothing I’ve written matters.

I don’t matter.

Nobody cares. They really don’t.

Not friends, not family, not R.

Sometimes I wish R would have just done it, got things over with. I thought eventually he might, that would have made things easier for me.

Everyone only tolerates me, and it’s painfully obvious.

Occasionally, people will reach out to me. Once in a while, someone will make plans to spend maybe an hour with me every few weeks or so. Sometimes, I’ll get a random text or a casual “How are you?” message. But even then, I know the truth. I know I’m no one’s first choice. My roommates barely even knock on my door anymore. I do nothing more than haunt the background of their apartment.

On any given day, if you were to ask my friends, my family, or my adopted family who they would want to spend time with, who they would want to talk to- it wouldn’t be me. I wouldn’t even make the list. I’m a pitied afterthought at best.

No one wants me around regularly.

No one.

And I’ve tried to make peace with that. I’ve tried to convince myself that maybe it’s just the way things are, that I shouldn’t need to be someone’s priority to feel okay. But it hurts. It eats at me every day, this undeniable feeling that I’m tolerated, not wanted, not welcomed.

How could I possibly feel any differently when people’s actions speak louder than words? It’s the holiday season, and no one has invited me to anything. Not a dinner, not a gathering, not even a casual “come hang out.” I didn’t go to a Thanksgiving dinner. Instead, I got high at the club with strangers. That’s my reality. That’s what my life has become- a hollow blur of faces I don’t know and people who don’t care.

There’s no safe place for me to exist without feeling like a burden to someone else. Every space I occupy feels like it comes with strings attached, like I have to justify my presence, explain my worth, or apologize for being there at all.

The only place where I find myself consistently noticed is inside the strip club. And even then, it’s not me they see- it’s a performance, a body, a fantasy. If my only purpose in this world is to degrade myself for men on a nightly basis, then what am I even still doing here? How can that be enough to keep me going?

No one should have to live like this. No one should have to navigate a life where they’re disposable, where they’re only valued for what they can give, and even that value is fleeting and shallow. This isn’t living. It’s surviving in the loneliest, most painful way imaginable.

My absence would be nothing. Those who even notice will move on quickly, it’ll be like I never existed at all- the way it should have been in the first place.

Most will feel relieved.

I don’t want a funeral. I don’t think I’d even get one. I don’t have any money saved, and maybe my family would pay for it, but I hope not. Funny enough, though, that would probably be the only time they’d be willing to help me out financially- when it’s already too late. People only help when it’s too late. That’s been my experience, over and over again.

Maybe I should do it somewhere they wouldn’t find my body for a while, if ever. Find a hole in the ground out in the woods somewhere and overdose. Eat a peanut and jump into the river a couple states over. Put myself in the garbage where I belong and wait to be compacted. Maybe people would assume I just ran away- if my absence ever even crossed their mind.

A funeral would be a joke anyway. A room full of people pretending to be sad that I’m gone, most of the same people who wouldn’t help me while I was here. The same people who let me drown silently, who watched me struggle and looked away. That’s assuming anyone would even show up. I doubt many would. And honestly? I don’t want them there.

What would even be said?

“Gone too soon.” No, not gone soon enough.

“We didn’t see this coming.” Then you never looked.

“She will be missed.” HAHA. Waited for me to be gone to break that line out. It’s just for show.

“She was loved.” Well she would have done anything to be shown that. I loved you guys though, even when I knew you a lot of you didn’t love me back.

Maybe my mom and dad should just show up to put me in the ground. One last chore, one final obligation. That way, they all get to let me down one last time, the way I’m used to. It would be fitting, in a way. The perfect end to a life that’s been nothing but disappointments and hollow promises.

I don’t even blame anyone for not wanting anything to do with me.

Whether that’s in life or death.

It’s not their fault I’m awful.

No one hates me more than I hate me, so I get it. I really do. But what I can’t let go of, what eats away at me every day, is the fact that these same people are the ones who told me they would be there for me. The majority of the people in my life swore up and down that they would help me if I left R. They said I’d never be alone, that I’d have their support. And yet, here I am. Almost entirely alone. Struggling.

Almost no one has kept their word.

But to those few who did, you’ve kept me going longer than I would have ever been able to on my own. You’re the reason I am still here fighting, the only reason I haven’t done it yet.

My friends who let me crash with them, you guys did try to help me in the my time of need, and I will forever appreciate it. I am sorry for the issues my presence brought, especially financially. I felt hiding myself away from you guys would alleviate the burden of having me around, and I don’t know if that helped or worsened the situation. I should have been a better friend, and I wish I had the tools to be that person for you guys. But I am HURTING.

My adopted dad, you made me a feel more hopeful than I had in a long while, and I am grateful for that feeling- even if it wasn’t realistic for myself. I wish I could have manifested those feelings into something more, I know I disappoint you. I wish you understood me more. But I know that’s hard, I don’t understand me either.

R, you’re the only one who’s never kicked me out of their family. Even in the bad times, I always appreciated knowing you weren’t going to leave me. I made the decision to leave you many times, and you welcomed me back nonetheless. Something my family and adopted family would not do.

Everyone always assumes my husband has brought me the most pain, that’s not true, I learned to expect that from him. Instead, it was everyone else who led me to believe I was unconditionally loved when in reality I wasn’t.

My parents.

My adopted mom.

Where were you guys? Too busy pretending I don’t exist I guess.

What was your plan? Convince me to eventually leave my husband and then leave me stranded to fend for myself when I did?

You guys knew I needed help and knew I didn’t have the means on my own to get it. So what did you expect? I would magically heal myself? Did you ever even care? You were okay with letting me carry the grief of losing my daughter all by myself?

Why should you guys help anyway?

My problems are my problems. No one else’s. You guys made that clear, and I know that’s the truth anyway. Everything is my fault.

So I don’t blame you guys, not that any of you would particularly care if I did or didn’t, but just know I don’t blame you. None of you owed me anything, you all hurt me deeply, but I don’t blame you.

I blame myself.

I blame myself for trusting anyone ever.

I blame myself for believing in love.

I blame myself for believing in happiness.

I blame myself for thinking I was worthy of any of these things anyway.

I blame myself for being a piece of shit addict.

I blame myself for being a horrible daughter.

I blame myself for being the worst sister imaginable.

I blame myself for not being enough for my daughter.

I blame myself for not being enough for my husband.

I blame myself for being a failure.

I blame myself for spreading my pain to everyone.

I blame myself for allowing things to get this bad.

I blame myself for allowing this life to go on for so long.

I blame myself for not healing like a normal person should.

I blame myself for allowing myself to be a victim.

I’m sorry I was ever born.

I’m tired.

I’m also a little high.

Maybe it’s the time of the year talking, but maybe it’s just how my heart feels.

[ghostofnibelheim]

“A Softer Love” Starters

Because even stories with unhappy endings are worth telling~

“There are two types of love. True love, and the love we actually get.”

“I would love you more if you were someone who could love me.”

“Our love was doomed, a burning building, a broken neck. But nothing since you and me even feels like love.”

“I want everyone to love me and I’m pretty sure the trick is to just be myself, but with money.”

“I can only infer that love exists from its effects on others.”

“I will always love you, or anyway I will always have loved you now.”

“You are the love of my life so far.”

“Will you still love me when I am a spooky ghost?”

“I’m in love with the you I wish you were. I only stay with you because you look like him.”

“Sometimes even love isn’t enough. So what chance do WE have?”

“I wish being in love was enough. I wish it counted for anything at all.”

“I hate it when you leave but I love to look at your butt while you walk away.”

“Yeah, maybe we all die alone. I have sex alone, too. Sometimes.”

“Sometimes when two people love each other it’s really unfortunate.”

“I don’t believe each person has just one true love, but sometimes we don’t have enough time to find another.”

“If love lasted forever, we’d only ever get one.”

“Just once I’d like to fall in love with someone who will ruin things before I do.”

“Ah, unrequited love. When your best isn’t enough.”

“I am terrified I will never find another love like ours.”

“I want to carve our initials in the bark of everyone who ever hurt you.”

“I love the way your face lights up when someone says, “It might be dangerous.”“

“All I ever wanted was love, until you loved me.”

“Our love is like an animatronic pigeon. No! It’s like a costume party on the moon! Also I am a bit drunk.”

“I want people to tell their children terrifying stories about the things we did for love.”

“When you get that look, nobody is safe. It’s why I first fell in love with you.”

“You are a good person and I love you. This just isn’t the life I hoped I’d have.”

“Marriage isn’t just between a man and a woman, it’s between any two people who love each other and want to ruin their lives.”

“Our love is a forest fire and we are the little things that live in the trees.”

“Sometimes I think you might fall in love with someone else and all my problems will be solved.”

“I keep all my old love letters, but to be honest I just skim them for the dirty bits.”

“It would be easier to deal with falling out of love if it hadn’t somehow made the bedroom exciting again.”

“Unrequited love is a waste of time. Just walk it off. There. I said it.”

“If our love lasts forever it’s gonna get real awkward when one of us dies.”

“There are just two things that make life worth living. The people you love, and sweet pranks.”

“I love those quiet moments in the dark where you can stop pretending.”

“I don’t know what the hell true love even is but I do want to hang out with you for basically the rest of my life.”

“I said I’d love you forever, and really meant it at the time. I guess that’s my problem. A failure of imagination.”

“I know I can’t make you love me. But I wish I could make you shut up about not loving me.”

“Our love is a meteor impact, a super volcano erupting. We won’t survive but we won’t die bored.”

“At first I was angry you had fallen in love with someone else, but you seem so happy now I didn’t even know you were sad.”

“You don’t love me, but you used to. I wanted to say thank you for that.”

“You and I will never be a great love story. That’s ok! Let’s see what kind of story we’ll be.”

“When I picture you with your new lover I get angry, and then sad, then kind of horny.”

“I lost the woman I loved and now all I have are my father’s well-meaning words, "Maybe now you can meet a nice man.”“

"I have loved since you. But when the new paint gets scratched, there you are underneath.”

“She’s like an angel. My family loves her but I just don’t believe anymore.”

[roleplay-abiogenesis2]

“A Softer Love” Starters

Because even stories with unhappy endings are worth telling~

“There are two types of love. True love, and the love we actually get.”

“I would love you more if you were someone who could love me.”

“Our love was doomed, a burning building, a broken neck. But nothing since you and me even feels like love.”

“I want everyone to love me and I’m pretty sure the trick is to just be myself, but with money.”

“I can only infer that love exists from its effects on others.”

“I will always love you, or anyway I will always have loved you now.”

“You are the love of my life so far.”

“Will you still love me when I am a spooky ghost?”

“I’m in love with the you I wish you were. I only stay with you because you look like him.”

“Sometimes even love isn’t enough. So what chance do WE have?”

“I wish being in love was enough. I wish it counted for anything at all.”

“I hate it when you leave but I love to look at your butt while you walk away.”

“Yeah, maybe we all die alone. I have sex alone, too. Sometimes.”

“Sometimes when two people love each other it’s really unfortunate.”

“I don’t believe each person has just one true love, but sometimes we don’t have enough time to find another.”

“If love lasted forever, we’d only ever get one.”

“Just once I’d like to fall in love with someone who will ruin things before I do.”

“Ah, unrequited love. When your best isn’t enough.”

“I am terrified I will never find another love like ours.”

“I want to carve our initials in the bark of everyone who ever hurt you.”

“I love the way your face lights up when someone says, “It might be dangerous.”“

“All I ever wanted was love, until you loved me.”

“Our love is like an animatronic pigeon. No! It’s like a costume party on the moon! Also I am a bit drunk.”

“I want people to tell their children terrifying stories about the things we did for love.”

“When you get that look, nobody is safe. It’s why I first fell in love with you.”

“You are a good person and I love you. This just isn’t the life I hoped I’d have.”

“Marriage isn’t just between a man and a woman, it’s between any two people who love each other and want to ruin their lives.”

“Our love is a forest fire and we are the little things that live in the trees.”

“Sometimes I think you might fall in love with someone else and all my problems will be solved.”

“I keep all my old love letters, but to be honest I just skim them for the dirty bits.”

“It would be easier to deal with falling out of love if it hadn’t somehow made the bedroom exciting again.”

“Unrequited love is a waste of time. Just walk it off. There. I said it.”

“If our love lasts forever it’s gonna get real awkward when one of us dies.”

“There are just two things that make life worth living. The people you love, and sweet pranks.”

“I love those quiet moments in the dark where you can stop pretending.”

“I don’t know what the hell true love even is but I do want to hang out with you for basically the rest of my life.”

“I said I’d love you forever, and really meant it at the time. I guess that’s my problem. A failure of imagination.”

“I know I can’t make you love me. But I wish I could make you shut up about not loving me.”

“Our love is a meteor impact, a super volcano erupting. We won’t survive but we won’t die bored.”

“At first I was angry you had fallen in love with someone else, but you seem so happy now I didn’t even know you were sad.”

“You don’t love me, but you used to. I wanted to say thank you for that.”

“You and I will never be a great love story. That’s ok! Let’s see what kind of story we’ll be.”

“When I picture you with your new lover I get angry, and then sad, then kind of horny.”

“I lost the woman I loved and now all I have are my father’s well-meaning words, "Maybe now you can meet a nice man.”“

"I have loved since you. But when the new paint gets scratched, there you are underneath.”

“She’s like an angel. My family loves her but I just don’t believe anymore.”

[minniepetals]

Can we get part 11 of genie drabble 🌼💜

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12 / part 13 / part 14 / part 15 / part 16 / part 17

The books are boring, you can’t find anything interesting. You can’t remember how many books you’ve read throughout your years in the lamp but they were always one of the best things to do when you needed time to pass by. After all, books created worlds you could live in, pretend you were with the characters, go on the adventures with them, pretend you could understand what love and hate and sadness meant as a genie.

They were your eyes for the world.

But now that you’ve been given freedom to explore the world due to your current existing owners, you can see everything with your eyes. It isn’t the same as the cool books but now the real world fascinates you. After all, not having a good taste of it definitely makes all of this freedom worth it.

You might as well take advantage of it now that you’ve gotten the chance before you have to return to your lamp for good.

And who knows if your new owners will ever give you this much freedom as the ones now.

Speaking of, since you’re bored, you might as well go ahead and visit them.

Just moments before, Namjoon was given a call that brough chills down his spine. He told you not to worry about it, that you should stay while he went on to give a call to Seokjin and ran straight out the door.

You do wonder what’s happened this time.

So deciding things on your own, you transport yourself to where your owners are.

The room falls bright, very bright, and also very white.

Noises are heard everywhere, and as you stand there in the middle of the bright hallway in your genie form, you look to your right and in just that split moment, you think you can hear your heart stop beating.

A few humans in white surround him as he lays in bed, spilled with blood, Taehyung’s blood, with the other owners helping to push the bed as well and that’s when you realize; this is the hospital and Taehyung is hurt.

Taehyung is hurt.

You fly on over to follow them, panic in your eyes as they tremble upon watching Taehyung.

You want to know what happened but nothing comes out of your lips. The voices tunes out of your ear, causing nothing but a buzzing sound, but you think you can hear ‘gunshot wound’ or something along that line.

When the bed pushes past the doors, the boys are held back but you fly in either way, body not minding the closing door, until someone reaches out to grab your hand before you can rush in.

You’re pulled back with a force and when you look over your shoulder, Hoseok shakes his head.

He has blood stains on his hand, you realize, and that gives you a chance to look at the rest of their state. Everyone else seems okay, or not as heavily injured as Taehyung, but they slump onto the seats next to the walls, faces ashened white with worry.

You don’t know what’s going on with you but something in you breaks.

“I can help,” you declare, rushing to their sides. “I can heal him, please.”

A genie isn’t supposed to make those requests, they’re supposed to stand by and only act when their owner wishes for them to.

But you disregard the rules, feeling desperate as you look at your owners. “If you just wish for it, I could..I can heal the sixth and we don’t have to worry about the doctors making a mistake or him not surviving so please. Please, let me heal him. Please…Please, first owner.”

The leader looks at you with hesitation, his eyes an emotion you can’t quite explain. “Y/N…”

But you’re desperate.

“Please. I could make it all better with just a snap of my finger. The sixth owner’s life is worth so much so you have to…you have to lose this wish on him. Please…I could heal him and he won’t hurt. He doesn’t deserve to be in pain. With me, I can make it all disappear and he won’t hurt anymore so please…please.”

They’re hesitant because to them, losing any amount of wish would mean a step closer to you disappearing from their lives but if they don’t wish, they risk the chance of losing Taehyung forever.

They don’t want that either.

“Okay.” Namjoon decides and your head snaps up at him. “I wish for you to heal Taehyung.”

Your eyes which had always been so determined, so brave and fierce, not trembles with fear. But upon hearing that wish, you pick yourself up and rush right into the emergency room.

They hold their breaths, watching after the closed doors, as the time ticks.

.

.

You feel a gentle hand run through your hair and that, along with the blinding light from the sun, wakes you up.

“Morning,” a voice calls softly and your head perks up from where you sat, remembering the fact that you feel asleep against Taehyung’s bed just the night before.

“Sixth owner!” You greet happily and reach out to grab ahold of his hands. “How’re you feeling? Are you hurt anywhere?”

Taehyung shakes his head. “The doctor says it was a miracle but I heard what happened.” He rests his hand on your head, tousling your hair. “It was you, wasn’t it, little lamp?”

Little lamp.

You let out a sigh of relief, shoulders finally slumping from the weight that laid against them. “So you’re really alright…”

“Yeah,” he nods, “all thanks to you.”

“If the first owner hadn’t made that wish, who knows where you’d be right now.” You nuzzle closer to his palm, finding comfort in his warmth, in the fact that it’s what helps you to remember that he’s still here, alive and well. Humans are such weak creatures. They can die so easily. “I’m glad you’re alright…I’m so glad.”

“You demanded Namjoon to wish for it, didn’t you?”

You avoid his gaze, looking off to the side. “I…may have had a say in it.”

Taehyung laughs. “I thought you were a play by the rules, girl. Didn’t think you’d ever have the guts to go against a rule of the genies.”

“I was desperate, alright?” You pout slightly and he finds it so adorable when you look up at him with those shiny eyes. “I couldn’t have my owner dying off out of nowhere.”

“Ah, so that’s what this is about?” He laughs again before, tilting his head to the side, question in his mind. “By the way, if your owner were to die, what happens to the genie?”

“Unfortunately things proceed the way it would were the wishes to be completed. Though in your case, I’m not too sure what would happen since there’s seven owners. Maybe the wishes would be reduced?”

“I see,” he nods, thinking. “But either way, you went against the law of nature too, didn’t you? Wasn’t that rule also important? To not interfere in human affairs, to let them go through their own things. I didn’t die and I know there’s a rule against bringing back the dead but healing me completely must also have its consequences, right?” When you don’t say anything, Taehyung sighs, his brows heavy. “You did that for me…thank you, Y/N.”

“I didn’t want to lose you,” you admit, “I couldn’t lose you. And it’s weird because I’ve never felt this way with my owners before but you guys — the seven of you, I…— I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you. No matter what.”

“Doesn’t that mean you’re getting attached?”

You blink and Taehyung takes ahold of both your hands. He squeezes them lightly before looking you straight in the eyes, his very own filled with some sort of emotion you can’t quite understand.

“Get attached,” he whispers. A plea.

“Huh?”

“...I wish you could get attached.”

[writemekpop]

Bad Romance (Part 1) | Lee Taeyong

Pairing: Lee Taeyong x Reader

Summary: Your boyfriend Taeyong wants to fuck you, but you're not ready...

Genre: Angst, Smut, College AU 

Word Count: 1.8k

Warning: Sexual Content, Toxic relationship 

Part 1 ⭐️| Part 2

Taeyong’s breaths were deafening in your ear. Couldn’t he try to control himself? For discretion, at least. You imagined every ear in your university dorm pricking up. Snickering. “I wonder what they’re up to.” 

Taeyong kissed you again, his hot lips colliding with yours.

His hand, ever so slightly rough, pushed up your shirt, sending goosebumps up your ribs. A moan sounded, deep in your throat, and Taeyong groaned in satisfaction. 

You felt instantly guilty. You’d told yourself your ancestors wouldn’t mind if you did this for him. But you’d promised not to enjoy it. 

Taeyong knotted one hand in your hair. You felt the other one slide up to your back to unclasp your bra. His hand dwarfed your back, sending sparks rippling up your shoulder blades. 

“Are you okay with this?” he murmured, voice husky. You nodded. It was a lie.

The truth was, you’d never had sex before. You’d barely even kissed a boy. 

When all your college friends were in the basement snogging boys, you would hover by the doorway, holding their drinks. When they began to tease you, you just pretended you couldn’t hear them. 

Even when everyone started saying you ‘batted for the other team’, it just felt like a relief. Maybe they’d finally leave you alone. 

You were a feminist. You fully believed that women weren’t shiny, unwrapped presents that had to be protected for marriage. But you were also a fake. 

Because the idea of sleeping with a stranger still made you feel sick inside. 

Well, Taeyong wasn’t a stranger; he was your boyfriend. So, you would just have to grit your teeth and get on with it. 

Taeyong’s hand slid down between you. You squeezed your eyes shut. It would be over in a minute; that’s what your friends were always joking about, right? 

Then, you heard the unmistakeable clink of his belt buckle. Suddenly, that was the most terrifying sound you’d ever heard.  

“W-wait,” you croaked. 

You clung onto Taeyong’s firm wrist. 

He was breathing hard, his pulse pounding under his papery-thin skin. You were sat on his lap – so you could feel how ready he was, and it frightened you. 

He would hate you for what you were about to say, you knew that. 

“I can’t. I’m sorry.” 

You rolled away from him, pulling your knees up and hugging them. Burying your wet eyes in your knees, you waited for Taeyong to leave. 

But you didn’t feel him get off the bed. 

Instead, there was absolute silence. A shiver ran down your spine. 

Then, his muscled arms were wrapping around you. Taeyong eased you till you were lying on the bed – fear closed in your throat – but he wasn’t trying to have sex with you. Instead, he helped you pull your T-shirt back on, and guided you so your head was resting on his chest.

You felt his thundering heartbeat slow to a steady, comforting pulse.

Taeyong pressed a kiss on your temple. For a second, your stomach curled; it was so fatherly. You mentally scolded yourself. Taeyong wasn’t like other guys. He was caring, and sensitive, and you should be grateful.  

“If you wanna go slow, let’s go slow. You’ll always be my girl,” Taeyong whispered.

So, you pushed down the niggling feeling that ‘always’ had an expiry date. It was time you learnt to trust someone, and Taeyong was the perfect person to let in.

---

Over the next few months, you tried your best to forget about that night. And it was easy enough – Taeyong was electrifying. 

You’d never met a man who could tell a Basquiat from a Banksy and didn’t even show off about it. 

Each night, after lectures, you’d sneak off to some gallery late opening, and take photos of each other for Instagram. 

Or, you’d just snuggle up in his dorm room and listen to him telling you all about his Art History course, or his dreams of starting his own gallery. 

You rarely spoke. You preferred to soak in his world, like a cat curled in the sun. And let’s face it – who wanted to talk about Maths, anyway? 

Taeyong was like a shooting star: totally uncontrollable, impossible to understand, yet hopelessly fascinating. You couldn’t believe why someone like him seemed to find you interesting. Or at least, worth spending every day with.  

---

The second time Taeyong scared you was a Saturday.

You were sitting in his lap, poring over one of his Art History books. Other than toying with a curl of your hair, or pressing a kiss to your shoulder, Taeyong was totally still.  

Sighing with pleasure, you flicked through the glossy pages – for the hundredth time. No wonder Taeyong would always say: If I wasn’t rubbish at Maths, we should’ve swapped courses.

Just then, you prised open a page you hadn’t seen before. You frowned. 

It was a scan of an old Japanese painting. In it, a wealthy couple were captured in a furious argument with a young woman, carrying a baby. It was entitled ‘Outside Wife’. 

You turned to Taeyong, finger on the title. “What’s that?” 

Taeyong lifted the book from your hands, then grinned. “It’s when a noble couple are forced to get married, but the man has another wife to, you know, satisfy his needs.” Taeyong chuckled dryly. “Unfortunately, that system isn’t available anymore.” 

You began to chuckle too… then your smile melted from your face. “What do you mean, unfortunately?” Goosebumps rippled over your skin. 

“Ah��� it was just a joke. You know, we’re not exactly getting any.” Taeyong’s body still felt relaxed under you, but your muscles were tensing. 

“I thought you said you wanted to go slow…” you mumbled. 

Of course. You should’ve seen this coming. 

There was only so long a person could go without their needs fulfilled. And here you were, dragging your boyfriend down while he could sleep with any normal girl whenever he wanted. 

“I’m not ready yet, Taeyong.” You picked at the frayed wool of your jumper. 

Your throat closed as you prepared for what you would say next. “If you… need to sleep with someone else, I won’t blame you,” you whispered. Stupid, babyish tears were filling your eyes already. 

“Babe – it was just a joke! No need to get your knickers in a twist.” Taeyong laughed, and kissed your neck. 

When you still didn’t make a sound a moment later, Taeyong turned you around on his lap so you were facing him. Tears streaked freely down your cheeks – you couldn’t hide them. 

“Oh, baby….” Soft as a whisper, Taeyong placed his palm on your cheek and smoothed away the tears with his thumb. “I don’t care about your… problem. You’re my girlfriend, and what’s good enough for you’s good enough for me.” 

A small part of you hurt at the way he said problem, but you pushed that part away. You allowed him a small smile. 

Laughing, Taeyong pulled you into a bear hug. You’d never gripped his shoulder so tight. You were so lucky to have him. 

----

A few weeks later, Taeyong finally convinced you to accompany him to a house party. You knew what this meant. You’d been dating for four months – this was the ‘meeting his friends’ moment. 

All the time you were getting ready, your stomach had transformed into a pit of snakes. Excitement, anxiety, fear – they all wriggled and knotted about inside you. 

You chose a midnight-blue playsuit, in a glimmering velvet. When Taeyong pointed it out to you in the shop, you knew this what you’d be wearing. 

To be honest, you hated Taeyong’s friends. You were pretty sure Taeil had tried to sneak vodka into your coke, and Mark did nothing but yap on endlessly about his girlfriend in Canada. You were almost 100% sure she didn’t exist. 

But as soon as Taeyong’s mahogany eyes met yours across in the heaving living room, all your worries melted away like snow. All he had to do was raise one deep eyebrow, or pull his plump lips into a silly face, and you’d burst out laughing. 

Except, as the hours drew by, you realised you hadn’t seen Taeyong in a while. You were perched on the stairs, shivering next to everyone who was too zoned out to take part. 

“Taeyong?” 

Tip-toeing, you climbed up the stairs, calling his name. You pushed open each of the doors in the hallway, peeking through your fingers just in case anything funny was going on. 

But they were all empty. 

Just as you turned around to go back downstairs, you heard voices coming from the attic. Gingerly, you sneaked up. They grew louder, more defined. 

Pushing open the door just a crack, you heard:

“Really? My god.” 

Your heart jumped. You knew that rich, resounding tone better than your own voice. It was Taeyong. 

You considered climbing up to join them. But then, you heard something that stopped you in your tracks. 

“And the worst thing is, Irene thinks she’s some kind of sex goddess, but actually she’s awful. She just lies there like a limp doll, expecting me to do everything.” It was Doyoung speaking. 

There was a pause as they all laughed. 

Your heart was already twisting. Something about his tone felt… wrong. Like his girlfriend wouldn’t appreciate what he was saying. 

Then, you heard Taeyong say, “Mate, at least your girlfriend’s fucking you, even if she is awful at it. I haven’t got any for months!” 

Everyone in the group exclaimed in disbelief. You forgot how to breathe. 

“Yeah – I know. Y/n thinks she’s some kind of saint for “waiting for the perfect moment”. I mean, a guy’s got needs!” Taeyong’s voice was low, but to you he could have been screaming. 

Black spots were engulfing your vision. Gulping, you staggered backwards, out of the door. You didn’t want to hear what you heard next. You really didn’t want to.  

But you couldn’t help it. Not when Taeyong said, “You know, I don’t even feel bad about fucking Joy. I mean, I had no choice. If Y/n wasn’t so frigid, I wouldn’t need to. It’s her fault really.” 

That was it. 

You sprinted away. Pushing through the line of partygoers waiting to use the bathroom, you locked yourself inside.

Then, you curled up on the toilet seat and sobbed. 

It had finally happened. 

Your gorgeous boyfriend had finally realised that he was miles out of your league. He didn’t deserve the defect. He didn’t deserve the fake feminist who was too ashamed to admit how sexist she really was. 

Then, a thought entered your mind that make you perk up. 

Maybe you could pretend you’d never overheard Taeyong. Maybe you could go back to how you were before… Or maybe you could sleep with him and make him forget about all other girls. 

After all, you’d do anything to keep him. 

Anything.  

Read Part 2 here.

---

MASTERLIST

[helpistolethesecharacters]

I'll Be Your Romeo If You'll Be My Juliet

Lucius Malfoy x Male Reader

Word Count: 1911

This was a request from an anon for a Lucius x male reader.

I hope this is everything you wanted from your request anon, if it isn't, feel free to send me another request!

---------

It was time for the annual Yule gathering. The Black family had the honor of hosting it this year, and they had taken every opportunity to remind everyone of that fact.

The heirs, the ones that mattered anyway, had been almost insufferable on the lead up to the yule break.

Lucius had mixed feelings on the whole subject, not that he could let that show to anyone.

Luckily, it looked like his betrothed was of a similar mind. The lovely Andromeda Black had been as quiet as he had been lately. If they had had even the smallest bit of interest in each other, they might have brought their concerns up.

Lucius thought fleetingly of a world where they could be in love. They would spirit themselves away to an abandoned classroom where they could talk uninterrupted about all of the things that were bothering them. They would take comfort in not being alone. It would bring them closer together and they could fall in love all over again.

But reality was a cruel mistress, and rarely allowed for such flights of fancy.

As it was, Lucius and Andromeda were just two teens who had been promised to each other from before they had even been born. There was nothing more between them.

Lucius sighed silently as he exited the floo into the receiving room at the Black Manor.

He barely registered an elf banishing the soot from his dress robes as he moved out of the room.

"Heir Malfoy, a pleasure to have you in our humble home this evening. And of course you as well Lord and Lady Malfoy!"

Lucius nodded at the welcome and stood obediently by his parents' side as he waited for the greetings to end. Sometimes he tired of all the stiff pureblood airs and graces.

After the obligatory back handed compliments they moved off into the party proper. With a last terse command to not embarrass the family name, courtesy of his father, Lucius moved away to see if he could find someone a little closer to his age.

He absently took a glass of sparkling cider from one of the floating trays that dotted the ballroom. The Blacks really had outdone themselves this year. The room was done in shades of white, sliver and blue. It really was stunning, but nothing seemed to be able to knock Lucius out of the numbness he had slipped into.

It had started at the start of that school year with the arrival of a transfer student. The other boy was their age, and the most enchanting creature that Lucius had ever laid eyes on. He had watched his sorting with longing, but the dratted hat had put Y/n into Ravenclaw. It wasn't really the end of the world, Lucius shuddered to think if he had been put into Gryffindor, or worse, Hufflepuff. Unfortunately, Lucius was already betrothed, but even if he wasn't, Abraxas Malfoy would never allow him to sully the Malfoy name with a male partner.

So Lucius had had to swallow his feelings as best he could. It hadn't worked very well, so he had allowed himself to pine from afar just a little.

He was jolted out of his daydream by the object of his thoughts. Lucius inhaled his mouthful of cider at the sight of Y/n.

He looked amazing in his dress robes, dressed up all fancy for the ball. Lucius thought to himself that if this was the cause of his death it would be worth it.

He was aware, once he managed to stop choking, of three things. One, everyone was looking at him, two, his face was probably red enough to shame a Weasley's hair, and lastly, that Y/n had the brightest e/c eyes possible.

He was struck with the awful thought that this was probably the first time that Y/n had known that Lucius existed.

'Well, that was a fantastic first impression,' Lucius thought to himself. He pointedly looked everyone who would meet his gaze straight in the eyes. As he had thought, it was enough to discomfort them into looking away.

Lucius raised his chin and moved off into a different area of the ballroom.

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

Ever since Y/n had realised that Lucius Malfoy was at the party as well, he had been jittery. The other boy was always looking at him. He had been the cause of enough distraction before this, when he was just someone who lurked at the fringes of his awareness while he studied in the school library. Now, Y/n was sure that he would never be getting rid of the image of Lucius in dress robes. How was he ever going to be able to concentrate again?

He shook himself slightly and tried to focus back in on whatever it was that the Greengrass heiress was talking about. He was supposed to be making connections here, maybe paving the way for a betrothal contract. As the first Pendragon to be seen in this and the previous generation, there was a lot of pressure to make the right political connections. A marriage to someone who was already politically powerful in this community would go a long way toward putting them back on the map in this magical community.

It was the Gods eternal joke that he was the only one that could do this. He only had one other relative, and his uncle wasn't exactly all there anymore. His parents had made it clear that this was their only chance to become the powerful family that they had once been.

Sure, potions had made it possible to have a male pregnancy, but it was still looked down on pretty harshly by most purebloods. Y/n had no idea how he was supposed to get his family back to its former glory, when to do it he would have to marry a girl. Why did he have to be gay?

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

Lucius was slowly going out of his mind. He had moved around the party doing his best to ignore Y/n, but he couldn't get him out of his head. The other boy was still standing where he had first spotted him, entirely surrounded by everyone their age.

What was worse was that these were people Lucius had grown up with. He had known these people for his whole life, and it was this that allowed him to see what was happening.

They were all flirting with Y/n.

Lucius was almost certain that some of them, most notably his friends, were only doing it to irritate him and not because they were genuinely interested in Y/n.

He had been shooting furtive looks over at the group for the last half an hour, and still they kept it up. Lucius just didn't know what to do. Oh sure, he knew what he wanted to do, but he also knew that there was no way he could actually pull it off.

For one thing, if he showed his hand by going over there and making a fool of himself he would face serious consequences when he got home. He was sure he would already be in trouble for his incident earlier that night, but if his father heard even a hint of a whisper that his only heir was gay, well, Lucius wasn't sure he would survive that particular punishment.

He was pulled up short at the realisation of where he was. He was in a room with some of the biggest gossips in the magical world, all of which could just about smell weakness. He shot his eyes around the room and realised with a start that it was already too late.

He recognised the look in his fathers eyes when he met them. Someone must have said something about his preoccupation with his classmate to Abraxas. Lucius swallowed, noting his suddenly dry throat.

He looked away from his father, toward Y/n and his friends. There might be a way to salvage this, pretend to have been watching another of his friends. He would still be in trouble for lusting after someone who was not his betrothed, but much less than if it had been the very male Y/n.

There was a commotion over by one of the doors, but Lucius was too busy thinking. He was realising that he was done. He couldn't live like this anymore, and he was done pretending that he could.

He squared his shoulders and moved over to his friends.

"Excuse me, may I borrow Y/n for a moment. We won't be long."

He didn't even bother waiting for a response, just grabbed a hold of him and started off in a random direction. The only thing in his mind was getting as far away from other people so he could have this discussion in peace.

He pulled Y/n out of the ballroom and down hallway after hallway until he decided they were lost enough that only a house elf would be able to find them.

He turned back to the other boy after making sure that the area was empty. They were both panting a little after their impromptu jog.

Y/n was looking at Lucius cautiously.

Lucius surged forward and connected their lips.

They were gasping for breath again when he pulled back.

"You know we can't do this."

Lucius cut him off before he could continue.

"I'm done. I'm done being the perfect heir for parents that don't care to know the real me. I'm done pretending that I'm not head over heels for you. Most of all, I'm done holding back from the things I want just because society wants so badly to tell me no."

He pulled in a deep breath, still standing in Y/n personal space. Neither boy had moved back.

"I want you, Y/n, and I think you've known that for as long as I have. If I haven't missed my guess, you want me too. I'm certainly not alone in all the looks I've sent your way, and I would regret it for the rest of my life if I didn't at least find out if you could feel the same way as I do for you."

Y/n sighed and shifted back a step.

"Those are pretty words Lucius, easy to say them here, alone in a secluded corner of someone else's manor, but how will you feel walking into Hogwarts next week, and letting everyone see. How will you feel when your parents cut you off?"

"I'm not totally helpless Y/n, I'll find a way to survive. I know for sure that if I have you by my side there isn't anything that we can't face."

He softly took Y/n's hand and stroked the back with his thumb.

"So what do you say? Can you feel the same way I do?"

Y/n shut his eyes in resignation.

"You know I do."

They stood at the end of their silent hallway for some time, just holding each other.

"You know this will be the second scandal of the night?"

Lucius pulled back to look at Y/n.

"What do you mean?"

Y/n looked at Lucius, shocked.

"What do you mean, what do I mean? Didn't you hear, just before you pulled me out of there, one of the older Blacks ran in and caused quite the scene. By the looks of things Andromeda is missing. From what I managed to gather, she's run off with that muggleborn from Ravenclaw, you know, Tonks-something, or something-Tonks."

[americancowgirl19]

Prince of Hell

Summary: You’re Esme’s brother. You two haven’t seen each other in a long time but now she needs your help to keep Renesmee safe.

Warnings: Death, violence, a little fluff and a little angst

Reader: Male Reader

Pairings: Demetri Volturi x Male Reader

Word Count: 3,108

A/n: Might make a part two

Masterlist

Esme stands in the doorway of Renesmee’s bedroom. The little girl sleeps soundly without a care in the world. Carlisle comes up behind her and embraces her tenderly.

“She’s going to be ok, we’ll protect her.” Carlisle whispers kissing the side of her head. A couple of hours earlier Alice had gotten the vision about the Volturi coming for Renesmee. They came up with the plan to find witnesses to protect her. Esme fears that it won’t be enough.

“Nothing will ever be the same,” Esme whispers. “The Volturi won’t forgive those who stand on our side. Not everyone has a coven to protect them when this is over. They could pick them off one by one when they leave.”

“We won’t force anybody to help us, they’ll know what they’re getting into.” Carlisle whispers. Esme sighs turning in his arms.

“There’s another option,” Esme whispers. Carlisle tilts his head. She slips out of his arms and leads him toward the living room where the rest of their family sits. They’re all planning on who is going to go to who. 

Edward’s the first to look up. Esme has no doubt he’s reading her mind by the curious look on his face. A second later, Alice’s eyes go distant. When she comes back, her eyes fall on Esme.

“What is it?” Bella asks noticing both of their looks. Soon, everyone’s looking at Esme.

“When I was human I was married to a dangerous man,” Esme begins. “When I became pregnant I knew I couldn’t stay with him anymore but I didn’t have the money or the resources to leave,” Esme takes a seat on the plush chair toward the middle of everyone. “So, I went to my brother and told him everything. He got me out that night,” Esme smiles softly as she thinks of you. “We had been close as children but drifted apart as adults. But that night it was like nothing had changed. He took care of me, kept me safe,” Her eyes fall down into her lap. “Then I had the baby and two days later... I lost him,”

“Greyson?” Edward question remembering her son.

When Carlisle changed Esme she had a week old son named Greyson. He grew up with them after Esme learned how to control herself.. He didn’t want to become a vampire and had died of a heart attack only a decade ago.

They had been able to hide him from the Volturi. They had only found out about him when Edward went to Volterra when he believed Bella to be dead. By then, however, Greyson was dead.

“Yes, Greyson,” Esme nods. “He had a lung defect. He was supposed to be dead which is why... Why I jumped off the cliff before Carlisle found me.” Carlisle places a comforting hand on her shoulder. She smiles up at him and places her hand over his.

“How did he survive?” Bella asks.

“My brother, Y/n... He sold his soul to save my son.” Esme told them. 

She remembers the day he had done it. Esme had been spiraling and you just knew she wouldn’t live in a world without her son. You couldn’t bare the thought of losing Esme and knew you had to do something to save her son.

By the time you sold your soul, Esme had already jumped off the cliff. You had a few years before the hounds of hell came to collect you. Esme stayed with Carlisle and learned control. A day before your time ended, you found Esme and gave her the five year old son.

“Sold his soul?” Emmett asks, raising an eyebrow. Esme didn’t blame them for being skeptical. There were fewer demons on Earth than vampires. The ones that were on Earth stayed hidden and played with the humans from the shadows.

“He’s a demon.” Alice whispers connecting the dots.

“A demon? Those exist?” Rosalie asks. Esme nods.

“Where do you think nightmares and tragedies come from? Deaths so unexplainable that not even a shapeshifter or a vampire can understand?” Esme asks them. “Most of them are locked away in hell and can only come up if they manage to escape or are summoned by someone. They’re stronger than a thousand newborns combined,”

“That’s why the Volturi were afraid of him,” Alice says thinking back to her recent vision. “None of their powers worked on him and he was more powerful than all of them,”

“So, how do we get in contact with this guy?” Emmett asks.

“It’s not that simple,” Esme tells him. “It’s very dangerous. If we mess up we could be releasing something far more dangerous than him. If we do it right, there’s no guarantee that he’ll help us. He’s been a demon for almost a hundred years, there’s no telling if my brother’s still... himself.” 

Bella turns her head toward Edward. Esme watches them waiting for someone to say something. A few moments later, Edward looks back at Esme.

“How do we contact him?”

The moment the question leaves his lips the room drops in temperature. It’s enough to send a shiver through Jake’s spine. The lights flicker as the windows begin to be covered with frost.

“Ask nicely,” Everyone’s head turns toward the corner. Sitting in the shadows is a man dressed in black slacks and button up shirt along with an equally dark vest. His hands are hidden behind gloves with a leather jacket that reaches down to his midthigh.

“Y/n,” Esme whispers standing up. You smirk and push yourself up as well. With a snap of your fingers the lights return to normal and the frost melts away.

“Sorry for the dramatics... I like to make an entrance,” You states, a lop sided smirk on your lips. “I was in the neighborhood, thought I heard someone talking about me so I decided to drop by.” You explain sauntering into the middle of the living room. Your eyes look around, observing the home around you. “I hear you’re in a bit of a bind, little sister.”

“It’s my granddaughter... She needs your help,” Esme tells you. You chuckle darkly before spinning on your heels to look at her.

“It’s always a child with you, isn’t it?” You ask smirking. She gives you a small, unsure smile. “What do you want me to do? I can’t very well sell my soul, I already did that for your first child. One soul, one child,” You sit in a chair, draping your arm over the back, your ankle resting on your knee.

“Do you know of the Volturi?” Your eyes slide away from your sister to the pixie hair cut girl, Alice. You knew everyone in the room. You had been keeping tabs on your little sister and knew who she came in contact with and who she adopted into her family.

“Ah, yes, the Volturi,” You smirk, looking back at Esme. “They’re good for business. Send plenty of souls to hell for us to feed on,” Your comment makes most of them unease. You soak up the anxiety.

“Mommy?” You’re eyes snap to the little girl by the steps. You stand up at the same time her mother flashes beside her. You had heard about this little girl but this is the first time you’ve seen her.

“So, this is the child you so desperately want to protect,” You state, your eyes remain on the girl as you move closer.

“The Volturi believe she’s an immortal child,” Esme says.

“How idiotic,” You whisper kneeling in front of the child. “Her soul is much too bright and her heart is much too active. Hello, little one,”

“Hi,” She whispers, hugging her mothers waist. You send her a small smile and a playful wink before standing up.

“You never answered my question,” You say, turning back to Esme. “What do you want me to do? Kill the coven? Possess them? Make them fall to their knees and beg for mercy?” By the end your lips are curled into a sadistic grin.

Esme looks at you for a moment and all she can feel is sorrow. When you were human the only person you ever wanted to harm was her husband. Now, you would kill and torture without a second thought. In fact, you seemed to enjoy it. 

Hell had twisted your soul into someone almost unrecognizable. She was relieved that you held a little bit of goodness in your heart to at least consider helping them.

“We just want them to leave us alone,” Esme tells you. You pout at the boring request.

“Well, I can do that,” You nod walking away from the child not failing to notice how the room relaxed as you put distance between yourself and her. “However, I don’t do anything for free anymore. I’m going to need something in return,” You whisper standing toe-to-toe with Esme. You gently brush your knuckles along her cheek like you used to when you were human and she needed to feel safe. “little sister.”

“What do you want?” Esme asks quietly. You hum stepping away from her.

“Oh, the endless possibilities,” You whisper, sitting down in the chair you had previously occupied. “How much is that little girl worth to you?” You ask the people in the room. “Are you truly willing to make a deal with the Prince of Hell?” You ask.

“Prince of Hell?” Jake asks. Your eyes flicker to him.

“Well, at least I’m not the Devil,” You joke before tilting your head side to side. “Not yet at least,” You shrug. “I’ve been in hell for 80 years... That’s human years, time moves differently down there. Once they dragged me down by my ankles I began working my way up with my hands. My ambition has payed off... Who knows, maybe in another 80 years, you’ll have had the pleasure of knowing the Devil?”

“Lucky us,” Emmett mutters.

“Yes, lucky you, indeed” You growled standing up. “I may be the Prince of Hell but I am still your older brother,” You said looking at Esme. “While my services are no longer free, I will always answer your call. You all are her family which makes you my family which means that I will aid you when you need me but like I said... I don’t work for free.”

“So, what’s your price?” Edward asks. You turn to him. You stare at him for a moment before looking around the room.

“A favor,” You tell them. “One favor,” You hold up your pointer finger and spin around for everyone to see. “A favor anybody, or everybody, in this room can fulfill,”

“And the favor?” Bella asks, tightening her hold on Renesmee. Your smirk you send her is enough to strike fear into her unbeating heart.

“I don’t know,” You shrug putting your hands behind your back. “I will come whenever I am in need of your services. You fulfill my favor and you’re free. I will make sure Renesmee is protected from the Volturi and all will be well again,”

“No,” Esme shakes her head regaining everyone’s attention. You arch an eyebrow at her. “You want someone to do you a favor, you ask me, not my family.” She says sternly. “I will not allow you to hold this over their head,” You smirk deviously.

“You’ve grown clever, little sister” You praise her. “Much smarter than you had been as a human, I’m proud.” Esme holds your gaze. “Fine,” You give in. “One favor and only Esme can fulfill it,” The rest of the family tries to argue but you ignore them and walk up to your sister. “Please don’t die before I cash that favor in,”

“You’ll know how to find me,” Esme tells you. You nod before giving her the first genuine smile you’ve given anyone in decades.

“I am truly happy to see you, little sister,” You whisper to her. You gently kiss her forehead. “Renesmee will be safe, I promise,” You vow because vanishing in thin air.

Within a few seconds, the Volturi castle began to suffer the same side effects of your arrival. All the vampires looked around as the lights flickered and frost covered the windows. When the lights went back to normal, the vampires noticed a new presence in the middle of the throne room.

A few of the Volturi guards hissed in alarm but you paid them no mind. Your eyes zeroed in on the man in the middle, Aro.

“Who are you?!” Caius shouted, standing from his throne. You ignore him which doesn’t help his temper.

“I’ve come to inform you that Renesmee Cullen is not an immortal child, she’s a hybrid. Leave the Cullens alone and I’ll allow you to live.” Aro chuckles while Caius glares harder. Marcus seemed indifferent but his eyes continued to go from you to another vampire.

“And what proof do you have to back up your statement?” Aro asks, stepping closer to you. You smirk.

“I don’t have to answer to you and I’ve already given you your warning. Shall you continue to go against the Cullens, there will be... consequences.” You warn him. “I’ll be watching,” Once the final word leaves your lips, you disappear.

“Intriguing,” Aro whispers before turning to Demetri. “Find him.” Aro orders. Demetri bows before leaving. Only problem, he can hardly feel your tenor. 

You kept your eye on the Volturi. Just as you hoped, Aro didn’t stop planning against the Cullens. You were about to prepare yourself to make another appearance when you sensed something.

“I’ve never met anyone who could sneak up on me,” You state, walking to the chair to put your jacket on. “Although, you are the first who’s been able to sneak into my home.” You turn toward the intruder. He slowly comes out of the shadows. 

You stare at him and tilt your head. He’s certainly one of the more attractive vampires you’ve seen. Then there’s the fact that he was able to hunt you down. You were impressed and highly curious.

“How did you find me?”

“It’s my ability... I can find anybody,” You hum moving closer to him. His scent begins to fill the room and it was slowly captivating your attention.

“But I’m not just anybody,” You whisper, inching closer to him. “Vampire abilities aren’t supposed to work on me... Not like they usually do, at least”

“And why is that?” He questions. You begin to smirk, sauntering even closer. He shifts on his feet but his eyes remain locked with yours.

“Why do you think?” You ask, not hesitating to invade his personal space. “Come on,” You whisper, taking a deep whiff of his scent. “You know the answer,” Demetri doesn’t answer. “You and your kind wonder the Earth thinking your the demons but you’re just child’s play.”

“Why do you care about the Cullens?” Demetri asks.

“I had a human life at one time, a human life I shared with a Cullen. They asked for a favor and I’m about to go back to the Volturi to finish it. Care to join me?” You ask, offering him your arm. He looks at it, pinching his eyebrows. “It’ll be a lot faster if we do this my way,” You whispers, sending him a wink.

Hesitantly, Demetri links arms with you. You grin at him and transport the both of you from your apartment to the Volturi Castle. When you arrive, Caius stands alarmed. Demetri moves to the side to stand with his fellow guardsmen. 

“Aro, Aro, Aro,” You tsk slowly. “You were warned,”

“And I explained that I needed proof. I have to protect us, this child may be a threat.” Aro states.

“Maybe,” You shrug. “But you won’t be around to see it,” You tell him. A few of the vampires growl at you. You pay them no mind. 

You then feel a prick in the back of your mind. A familiar feeling you get when a vampire tries to use their abilities on you. Your eyes shift to the blond girl by the steps.

“Performance issues, sweetheart?” You smirk. She snarls at you. You raise your hand to grab the vampire that tried to attack you. You grab his throat and lift him off the ground. “Sloppy,” You whisper and squeeze your hand so tight that his head just pops off. You then straight your vest and adjust your jacket. “Anyone else?” You ask, opening your arms welcomingly. 

A most of the guard tries to take you down but you don’t break a sweat dismembering them. They try to use their powers but they’re ineffective on you. You turn your head and notice Demetri standing by you. He rips a nearby guard member to pieces. He turns back to you, his eyes pitch back.

You slowly grin finding his black eyes just ask attractive as his ruby red ones. Tearing your gaze from Demetri, you look back at Aro. The king hisses but before he can move you’re in front of him. You place your hand on either side of his face forcing him to look into your eyes.

“You believe vampires don’t have a soul,” You whisper. “How wrong you are,” You chuckle, feeling your eyes blazing brightly. “You have a soul... It’s just pitch black. No worries, I’ll rid you of it.” Aro begins screaming as you suck his soul out of his body.

As Aro dies in your hands, what’s left of the guard disperses. When Aro’s soul is gone, you toss his body to the side feeling refreshed. It was the first time you consumed a vampire soul. Demon usually leave vampires along but after having a taste of the power his soul gives you. You want more.

“Well, Demetri,” You hum turning toward him. “I have a mission,” You walk down the steps. “At the moment, I am known as the Prince of Hell,” Demetri raises his eyebrows at you. “I don’t plan on staying a mere prince. I want the whole kingdom, I want to be king.” You state stopping in front of him. “Consuming the souls of vampires might just give the power I need to overthrow the current monarch.”

“And?” Demetri asks. You smirk, brushing the tips of your fingers along his jaw.

“Help me, Demetri,” You whisper, loving how his name rolls off the tongue. “Help me find vampires, help me become king, and I will give you everything you desire” You promise, trailing your fingers down his throat and over his chest. “I’ll give you the world and I will give you Hell.” You smirk playfully.

“I know just where to start,”

[honey-milk-depresso]

Meanie (Azul Ashengrotto x Reader) 8

Part 1,

part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8 (END)

The final chapter. Congratulations for surviving this long with my bullshit-

“Everyone, please place the flower we have given you in their coffin.”

The sunlight was shining brightly in the early morning of NRC’s campus, 

but no happiness was to be found.

Just yesterday, you have died.

And it took a moment for Azul to realize that you were truly gone.

Everyone in NRC lined up in a single file to pay their final respects to you, one by one placing their flower in your coffin.

When it came to Azul’s turn, he had to hold himself from crying. He felt as if you were watching him. If he cried, you’ll cry too, and he doesn’t want you to fully leave this world with sadness and guilt.

He looked at you. Even if you’re dead, you looked as beautiful as ever.

He grabbed your cold hands, and placed the flower in the middle of your chest, before he gently used your hands to cover the flower, as if you are holding it.

“I love you,” he whispered, “I hope you go to a safe place.” And he walked away.

=============================================================

Azul walked back to Octavinelle with Jade and Floyd. They were silent. Yes, even Floyd stayed quiet.

The atmosphere was solemn.

Azul was solemn.

Never in his life have he came across death, let alone, someone he hold close to.

He used to love before.

He went back to his office alone and tilted his head up. Jade and Floyd went back to their rooms.

He’s not crying. He won’t cry for you.

Read it.

He heard something whisper.

“What..?”

The notebook.

He glanced to his right, the notebook labelled “ To Azul Ashengrotto”.

“Read it after they die,” Trey’s words echoed in his head as he recalls.

He grabbed the book.

To Azul Ashengrotto.

He stared at it, hesitantly flipping to the first page.

“I’m rewriting this from the accounts of Y/n, Azul. She asked for it. I hope you’re reading this.

- Trey Clover”

So Trey wrote this book for you to him.

“Azul and I were chilling at Monstro Lounge in the VIP room.

Lmao, he was soooo unlucky with his pulls, and had to answer all my questions and stuff. Apparently he thinks Idia is more handsome than Jade. Ooh~ 

I really loved the fact he wanted to spend time with me although he looks so done. I really appreciate it!”

He snorted. That was so you.

“Azul and I hanged out at the Rose Kingdom. I’m so glad Headmaster allowed me to hang out with him! Sometimes I feel like Headmaster is a dad. 

I had so much fun! Though, it’s kinda embarrassing that Azul spoilt me with so many gifts, and all I did was drag him around. I love the octopus plushie he won for me. It’s so chubby, soft and cute, just like him! 

He also bought me food from Trey’s awesome family bakery, and a really expensive pendent. I feel guilty, but I love it! It’s so pretty!”

He sighed. Really? Chubby?

“Headmaster told me I’m going to die in five months time. I’m really scared. I know I’ve joked about I feel like dying cuz of Professor Crewel’s homework, now facing with death, it feels really scary.

I have to tell everyone right? Headmaster told me he’ll tell my friends, that includes Azul. How would he feel? I don’t want him to feel sad..”

He flipped to the next page.

“Azul, Jade and Floyd came to visit me. Actually EVERYONE did! Even Leona and Idia! Can you believe it?? But I was so happy that Azul and the tweels came.

I rubbed my eyes so hard because I didn’t want them to see me cry. I was just so happy to see them!”

“Trey told me something. Well, an offered to do something for me. 

He knew I had a superrrr big crush on Azul, and he said I should tell him. I was so embarrassed at first, but I’m going to die soon, so I have to confess sooner or later right? 

He told me he’ll write a whole record of me of what I want to tell him, and then I can give it for him to read after I die.

Sounds like a good idea, but also kind of cruel. After I die????

What should I do?”

So that’s what you were talking about with him.

“I got to be discharged!

FINALLY OH MY SEVENSSSSS-

I CAN GET FRESH AIR BEFORE I DIE

DO YOU KNOW HOW BORING IT IS TO BE CHAINED TO A BED, DOING NOTHING UNTIL SOMEONE COMES TO VISIT???

PROFESSOR TREIN’S CLASS IS WAY BETTER-

Azul brought me around the entire campus, and to Octavinelle! And we played UNO! Although I lost a lot... But I’m happy I got to spend time with him and see everyone outside of the infirmary! ^^”

“I went to NRC’s Halloween Celebration!

IT. WAS. SO. COOL!!

There were like flying decorations and good food,

I got to see NRC become so lively and colorful! It was amazing!

Also I got to hang out with Azul and the tweels, and of course, everyone else!

I even got to be part of all the scaring and stuff at the Octavinelle’s scare house! heheheh~ 

I love the big finale, I wish it could last forever.”

“I made up my mind. 

I’m gonna ask Trey to help me write that book. I want Azul to have a piece of me even when I’m gone. I won’t leave him alone, and I’ll do everything in my power to do so.

If Trey is giving me the opportunity to do so, I’ll take it! Though, I should’ve done it from the beginning..”

“Azul kissed me. 

Oh my shit-

MMM I SHOULDN’T HAVE DRANK THE PLUM WINE HE GAVE ME BEFORE WE KISSED, I PROBABLY SMELT BAD-

BUT HE SAID HE LIKES IT??? WAS IT A GOOD CALL I DON’T KNOW-

But... I’m happy.. I got the courage to confess to him! On top of that, he said yes! I’m so happy I could cry..”

“I’m going to be giving the notebook to Trey. He’s gonna record it all down for me today. 

Azul, I hope you’re reading this. I want you to flip to the back. I asked Trey to attached something really important I want to share with you.”

He flipped to the back. There was a slip of paper folded, stapled to the page. It also held the pendent he bought for you. He grabbed it, and unfolded the paper.

“Azul, 

I’m writing this to you 5 months before I die. Crowley told me to tell everyone about my condition, but I wrote this for you specially.

Remember I told you in that truth or dare game?

“If I told you I was scared to die, what would you do?”

To tell you now, I’m still kind of scared. But I won’t show it! Pretending not being scared isn’t like lying.

Okay, but a practical thing, you could do anything you want with this book.

You can tear it up, throw it away, hide it or even show to everyone! Totally up to you!

I’m gonna be honest with you, I was and still jealous of you.

You were and are the picture perfect honor student of NRC. I haven’t been in NRC as long as you, but I’m just so jealous you manage to be so cool and flawless in everything you do! Well, maybe except for flying..

But still! You were and still are my role model! You always manage to amaze me! But not only that, you treated me like your best friend no matter what position you are! Maybe that’s why I fell for you, you didn’t show biasness towards me to become my friend. I hope you were genuine about our friendship!

But, I like the fact you actually sometimes don’t need other people to reflect about yourself, unlike me. I can’t reflect about me all by myself. If I were like you, maybe I could’ve been able to live entirely by myself, with my own unique worth and responsibilities. Of course, while still being friends with others!

But when it comes to self reflection, you are down to earth with yourself, you speak to yourself, and that’s very independent of you. Ever since you were little you were like that too, and that’s what made you hardworking and diligent!

I’ll end it right here, to tell you I love you. Ehehe~ Sorry it’s so sudden.

I love you, meanie.”

drip.

Pitter, patter, pitter, patter.

Slowly, Azul felt tears rolling down his face.

He broke. Except... that wasn’t true.

He’d been broken when he first heard you were about to die. He just kept strong for you, as you did for him.

He was so glad, he had spent his time with you.

You needed him. You felt like he’d done everything for you.

But now, you’re gone.

It was thanks to you, he never felt insecure about his past anymore. For the first time he met you, his really lived for the first time. He existed in this world.

“Thank you, y/n..” he choked, smiling meekly at your final goodbye letter to him, as he clutched the pendent he gave you.

“I love you so much...”

From Ramshackle dorm, your slightly dusty octopus plushie rest on the side of your pillow.

From far away, he sensed you hugging it, whispering so close to him although so far,

“I love you too, meanie..”

END

============================================================

HO SHIT-

REBLOG IT I FELT MY TEARS I-

Ok I’m joking

thank you for surviving and following with the story. 

Azul loves you. Bye, have a good day!

@magicpumpkin3 don’t kill me pls-

[palestinianliberator]

To be Palestinian is exhausting

You will not find a single Palestinian who hasn’t had to endure all of the following and more:

Constantly having to prove our existence

[This is going to be a tremendously long post, but I implore you to read through what you can]

Constantly having to educate everyone around us on our history and people while we continue to be slaughtered

Constantly having to combat Israeli propaganda and dehumanization campaigns against us

Constantly having to combat liberal propaganda from those who simply cannot understand the pain and damage they are doing

Constantly having to defend ourselves from the overwhelming forces that stand in our way, from the Israeli forces to the global institutions that help support it to the structures in the US that mean that any Palestinian who dares speak out risk both their lives and livelihood

Constantly in fear of whether or not you’ll end up on another “list” as a result of daring to speak out

Constantly having to do it all again as soon as we’re back on the news

Constantly having to answer for all other Palestinians in a way that nobody else is expected to

Constantly being seen as the “crazy one” when trying to share your narrative, having to defend against an endless barrage of accusations of antisemitism

Constantly being put into situations by bad-faith actors who attempt to engage in “debate” or “discussion” or “dialogue” with talking points that demean and duhamanize you, all while being expected to maintain a smile and cool composure while someone literally debates to your face your own existence or how “actually it’s YOUR people’s fault you’re being slaughtered! Israel isn’t the bad guy here!”

Constantly being forced to choose between engaging in bad-faith debates framed in a way to make you look like the unreasonable bad guy while the person implicitly defending your ethnic cleansing is made to look like the “rational good guy” or looking after your own mental health, knowing that even refusing these “invitations” is itself a mark against you and your people

Constantly being told that you’re too “biased”, too “close”, too “emotional” about the literal slaughter of your people to be seen as a valid source, while Israelis and complete outsiders are given all the space they want to speak for us endlessly

Constantly seeing people being actively mislead and wondering if you have the capacity to reach out to them and attempt to share your narrative with them, knowing that if you don’t, they’re going to go on to propagate the same lies justifying your ethnic cleansing

Constantly having to combat GENUINE censorship throughout the media, social media, and society itself. It’s a fact proven by former Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and Youtube employees that Palestinian voices have their reach censored in a way no one else does, which is why it’s so important to amplify and actively share Palestinian voices rather than just liking or indicating support

Constantly being told you don’t know your own history by people who’ve educated themselves on Youtube and Wikipedia despite having lived the reality yourself and dedicating your entire life to studying every single aspect of it

Constantly seeing those who have the courage to stand alongside you being shut down with accusations of antisemitism and seeing them lose their courage to stand by you out of fear of their own image and livelihood and having to rush to their defense as well

Constantly having to see photos of your people, sometimes even people you know, maimed, injured, murdered, or burned to ash by Israeli aggression but knowing you have a duty to share what’s happening and must stomach the images to show the world the true extent of the suffering we endure

Constantly having to worry not just for your own safety, but the safety of your family and loved ones who can be punished or targeted because of things you yourself say

Constantly wondering who you can actually trust, from new friends and acquaintances to professors to even other Palestinians because we’ve been so heavily infiltrated by Israeli intelligence looking to blackmail Palestinians using anything from their sexual orientation or even made up “evidence” meant to ruin their lives

Constantly having your heart sink every notification you get wondering if it’s news that a loved one has been killed

Constantly seeing the corpses of loved ones shared on social media and reliving the trauma all over again, yet again knowing that you WANT the world to see what’s happening

Constantly seeing the effects this has on your own family and feeling helpless to do anything

Constantly on alert for the FBI at your door as they often “visit” Palestinians who dare speak out, myself included on numerous occasions 

Constantly wondering if your advocacy for your people is going to result in the loss of your job, scholarship, license

Constantly being asked to “humanize” and “feel for” those who live their lives day in day out completely unfazed by your suffering despite living in a society that couldn’t even FUNCTION without our subjugation

Constantly being told “don’t blame regular Israelis, blame the government!!” as if the state itself wasn’t founded on our ethnic cleansing, as if it isn’t “normal Israelis” who make up the entirety of the Israeli Military and have actively brutalized you and your people

Seeing allies you fought for suddenly SILENT when it’s their time to speak up

Studying on a US campus where those SAME SOLDIERS WHO ENGAGED IN YOUR PERSECUTION AND ACTIVELY SERVED AS THE ENFORCERS OF YOUR OCCUPATION then re-enact the trauma against you and you’re meant to simply ignore the fact that THEY ARE THE SAME PEOPLE WHO MURDERED YOUR FRIENDS AND FAMILY, and not being allowed to even be ANGRY at that

Trying to navigate this half-life in the diaspora where it’s a struggle to connect with other Palestinians given the distance between us and yet not being able to connect with anyone around because, again, they simply can’t understand

Constantly being expected to simply give up your time to those who demand you answer them and debate your existence and narrative with them, who them take you blocking them for your own mental health as a “victory” to be lorded over you when you simply can’t take it anymore

Constantly having to EXPLAIN all of this because nobody but other Palestinians can truly understand just how pervasive, overwhelming, and incapacitating this unique form of exhaustion is

Constantly seeing your erasure and ethnic cleansing defended all over the media, all over social media, throughout your academic career, while those ENGAGED in your ethnic cleansing have the audacity to claim that the media is biased against THEM

Constantly on guard with everything you say and write, knowing that unlike those promoting our ethnic cleansing, we don’t have the luxury of making mistakes or getting lazy in our writing and advocacy. One mistaken source, mistaken information, being imperfect is enough to discredit your voice entirely

The crippling obligation you have to share the narrative of your people, knowing that so many people will view you as the spokesperson of your entire people, knowing how unfair it is, but also knowing that if you DON’T speak out, nobody will on your behalf, and even the most well-intentioned, involved allies can simply never understand how it all truly feels

Seeing the entire world stand by and do absolutely nothing while your people are slaughtered time and time again

Seeing your history misconstrued by people implicitly defending your ethnic cleansing and settler-colonialism

Knowing that our parents have been through this and more, seeing them have to go through this yet again while still being forced to go about their daily lives and given no time to mourn or recover

Not being able to even share our culture without being attacked for it

Knowing that so many of your friends and family won’t ever be able to return to their homeland while foreigners from around the globe are flown into Israel free because it’s their “birthright”

A “birthright” denied to even my own parents, born in Jerusalem yet unable to enter it

Having even self-proclaimed “allies” question Palestinian resistance, policing our tone, never /really/ understanding our pain and anger and how they themselves contribute to it

Screaming from the moment you can about what’s happening to us, desperately trying to get people to CARE, and having it often fall on deaf ears

Knowing that if you’re not the source of information for those genuinely seeking to learn, they may find themselves mislead by sources that claim to be fair and balanced while imprinting subtle lies about Palestine and Palestinians on those they engage with

Not even being able to find the energy and ability to respond to genuine messages of love and support, which are greatly appreciated, and feeling bad about it because you don’t want to seem like you’re not genuinely happy to hear it

Feeling a sense of overwhelming exhaustion in times like this while at the same time being unable to sleep

Seeing the effect all of this has had on your people, knowing your people have among the highest rates of depression on the planet and yet we’re all suffering together with no way to ease the pain

Being constantly exposed to the ways in which your people are erased and questioning if you have the energy or sanity left to deconstruct such aggression to help outsiders understand the severity of it all

Seeing allies suddenly call for “peace” when Palestinians are finally fed up enough to rise up and fight back against an overwhelming military force

I could go on, but in case you it’s not already clear, I’m tired and exhausted

Always wondering if any of this is even worth it when the world has ignored your slaughter and ethnic cleansing for nearly 8 decades, knowing that nobody is about to step in to help now.

Constantly wondering if any of this is even worth it, and then feeling inspired by fellow Palestinians, our resilience, the fact that despite ALL of this and more, we continue to fight.

Despite all of this, I would never even consider or entertain the thought of being born as anything other than Palestinian

[marahuyos]

anon asked: Yay new blog! Congrats! May I request Genshin impact from you, with Diluc, Kaeya, Childe, Albedo, Zhongli and how they react/what they’d do if their one-sided crush decided to finally date someone? They confide in them cause they’re “friends”!

*:･ﾟ✧*smacks lips* love my fries seasoned :^)

gn!reader

tw: swearing, character story spoilers

✧ Diluc Ragnvindr

“... I see. I wish you the best of wishes, then.”

• One of the men who are unfazed of your sudden confession. He’s a mature man; he isn’t the type to be uppity about his unrequited crush. In fact, he wishes you the best of luck when you plan to confess and even wishes your relationship to be a fruitful and loving one.

• ... Is what he says. But he still can’t stop the stinging in his heart whenever he sees you smile at someone that wasn’t him.

• He reminds himself each night, in the safety of his room, slamming his fist against his chest in hopes to stop the painful beating, that he stands no chance with you. That he shouldn’t hope that you’ll like him back, that he shouldn’t wait for a sliver of hope. That he shouldn’t be an idiot and cease his heart from beating incessantly. 

• Diluc prides himself in sheltering his emotions from prying eyes. He prides in himself that you don’t notice the longing stares he sends you when you weren’t looking. He was happy that you don’t see him pounding his chest with his fist each time you mention your significant other.

• The one thing he wasn’t happy about was Kaeya giving him a knowing look and patting his shoulder. He knows about his brother’s situation and he knows nothing could alleviate the heartache that he was experiencing. Alcohol wasn’t the answer, Kaeya knows that for a bitter fact, so he stands by his brother in solace, understanding his situation and offering him someone who understands the feeling of heartache.

✧ Kaeya Alberich

“Aww, is my little baby growing up and having a crush?”

• Is what he says before downing himself another bottle full of Death After Noon. The more drunk he is, the more that he won’t feel the heaviness in his chest. He’s just a mess even more as he drinks, and drinks, and drinks... He can practically challenge Venti on taking his number one spot of being the most crunked out drunkard but that would probably cost him his life.

• He acts like usual before you said that you were planning to confess to somebody else. Still the same scheming captain of the Knights of Favonius, he teases you on your budding relationship with your crush. It’s like he’s gotten over you quickly if you elect to ignore him drinking his heartache away. 

• It’s... pathetic, really. How both he and Diluc have the same coping mechanism on their crush not returning their feelings. They both string and wrung their hearts by being close to you knowing that it would hurt. The fact that they’re both grown adults being so stupid regarding their feelings is hilarious. Venti would’ve loved to compose a little ditty because of how comedic it was, but Venti wasn’t that shallow.

• Everyday he sees you with someone else, he was reminded of how he was practically all alone in this world. This cements the fact that he was truly abandoned by the world, that he was practically destined to be alone and without anyone to love him. First his father, then his pseudo-father, his oath brother, then you.

✧ Childe

“Are you for real?”

• The most violent reaction, Childe doesn’t take lightly to how you were able to find someone new behind his back. But he composes himself before he slightly loses it because archons the last thing he wanted to do was scare you away. He instead pats your shoulder, giving you a clipped smile before going away.

• But he was one of the smartest ones to take the rejection with stride. He doesn’t help you with your confession, he strays apart from you until the tugging in his heart dies down. He hopes the absence will put his heart at ease but apparently “Absence makes the heart grow fonder” doesn’t exist in Snezhnaya.

• Like his job, he bears the pain regardless of how selfish he wanted to be. He doesn’t have the light in his eyes anymore when he was trapped in the Abyss, but it changed when he met you. For once, he may have gotten the life back into his eyes. But you took that light away and ran with it.

• So he does his job any other day, just like usual. Sleep, eat, fight, and repeat until he stands at the top of the world. But if he doesn’t see you there, whether at his side or beneath his feet, would that even be worth it?

✧ Zhongli

“... Oh? What are your plans then?”

• Also one of the men who are unfazed by your confession. In fact, it doesn’t even seem like he had an interest in you in the first place. He would even help you on confessing. As someone who’s lived so many years, he had his fair share of heartbreak. What’s one little rejection to him? 

• He tries to maintain professional, meeting your supposed crush and honestly being such a good wingman for you. It’s surprising how Zhongli is able to move on so quick and easily, even maintaining his friendship with you without any sort of awkwardness.

• Although... he wonders what would happen if he was your crush. He shouldn’t think like so, but he can’t help but wonder if he would hold you in his arms every night, or wake up to your sleeping face in the morning. Or better yet, hearing your affectionate and loving words.

• As an archon, he has infinite knowledge and even more coming in the next centuries. But as he sips his osmanthus wine, letting his mind wander and leading to you, he wonders if there was anything he could’ve done so that you would’ve confessed to him instead. Either way, he doesn’t dwell on it as much as he would have.

✧ Albedo

“... I see.”

• Also an unfazed man, but the better term would be disappointed. Once you said that you didn’t like Albedo, he immediately closes his heart and doesn’t interact with you as much anymore. He doesn’t have the soft smiles he spares for you anymore, instead opting to leave you be and collect his thoughts. He had spared so much of you, spending his time with you, and for what?

• He closes himself up in his lab and in Dragonspine even more to the point that Sucrose is worried. Ever since distancing himself from you, he dedicates his time and effort to his work. No use crying over failure is his mantra and he doesn’t waste time sulking over you.

• It hurts for a moment when he ignored you, but that was for the best. The less people he has in his life, the less it would hurt whenever he would destroy Mondstat. That was his excuse and it was, quite literally, a horrible excuse now that time has passed.

• He has never felt love ever since his master left him. Now that you were the one who left him, what was there left of him?

[animeyanderelover]

Hello again! Can I have prompt 46 with Ash? Tnx

Recently I told my friend that I had a lot of requests about him and she laughed about it. She doesn't really like him, but she gives him credit since he looks good.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessiveness, obsessiveness, delusions, extreme paranoia, isolation, desperation, mentions of kidnapping,overprotectiveness, mentions of self-harm, Stockholm syndrome

Prompt 46: "Can I...can I kiss you?"

It was nothing less than a miracle that someone like you existed, someone who was cleansed from all the sins of this world and the corruption of humans. You were radiating with everything Ash had wanted for this world, a world that he wanted to give to you. It was the minimum from what she should and would do for you, it was his duty as your very own guardian angel. A role he was utterly dedicated too, devoted to his very own angel who forgave him his sins every time.

It was true, you had forgiven him his crimes already a long time ago as everything around you had started to fade away and you had lost count of how long exactly you had been stuck in here. Somewhere around one and a half years would be your expectation, looking on how the seasons had changed through the large and closed windows which symbolized your loss of freedom. But you didn't mind anymore.

You only needed and wanted Ash, your guardian angel.

There was clear tension in his body, you could feel how he stiffened up under your embrace. He had never really received that sort of affection before from anyone nor would he have ever wanted it from all those worthless lives walking around freely. You were the only person he actually wanted any sort of touches from. That was how pure you were, even causing someone like him craving something and falling victim to his own desires. And it was his own fault for being so weak-minded. He didn't deserve you yet letting you perish outside would be an even greater sin. He had to keep you safe.

"My Queen...what are you doing?"

Being able to keep his composure was important in front of you, though he remembered to have failed multiple times in the past already. Severe punishment was the only thing he could think of to atone for his failures for not being good enough, for proving himself to be so incredibly useless. Even now he could feel some unhealed wounds aching a bit, but you didn't have to know about his weakness and incompetence.

You blinked slightly confused up at him when he asked you such an obvious question, but it soon turned into slight giggling that instantly plunged Ash's heart into painfully warm emotions and forced his eyes to get wet. It had taken a while until you had been able to look so happy after he had quickly rescued you from all the evil waiting to devour you. The distress he had felt back then could never be put in words and no burns, knifes and broken bones had been able to make up for what you had been suffering under. Even now it remained as a anxiety deeply stuck in his heart. But looking at you now, smiling at him and not staring with wide eyes filled with fear at him, was worth much more than his whole life could ever repay you.

"I’m hugging you. It’s just that you always look so worried and stressed over my safety and never appear to take a rest. Just now you did as well so I thought this might help you a bit. A strong hug can be more worth than thousand words after all. That’s what my mother told me at least when I was younger.”, you replied softly, pressing your face deeper into his chest with a content look on your face.

There was nothing Ash could think of for a few moments, instead he seared the scene in front of him deep into his brain, how you were currently buried into his chest, looking so happy and peaceful. So stunning and precious.

Tears were quick to escape his eyes only seconds later, his insides stirring up with warmth that stung him and yet baked him with something he hadn’t felt in so long. Comfort and peace.

This was exactly why he had to protect you with his very own life, no one was allowed to snuff out the light you carried inside of you and that was able to even share it’s warmth with him. You possessed too much kindness to understand, but normal humans only destroyed what they touched, ruining it with their greed.

He wouldn’t let them do the same to you.

He would kill everyone who would even do as much as getting too close.

He just had to guarantee that you would live.

But first of all he had to calm himself down or otherwise he might worry you even more than he seemed to have done already. The tears were quickly wiped away with his sleeves before Ash was able to look at you again, still feeling like he wanted to continue crying. His heart felt like it might burst at any moment.

“You have so much warmth and love inside of you that I don’t think I deserve any of it. You shouldn’t even be concerned about me, I merely do what I have to do as your guardian. If you were to fall victim to this damned place, I would perish as well. What use is an angel who can’t even protect their chosen one?”

Pain was twisting his voice and face a bit when he dared to imagine how a world without you would be, a world filled with grief and darkness for him. Letting his guard down would be a fatal mistake, he had seen the worst of this world and the humans and he knew that it would happen again. That was why he had to be like this for you were his heart beating outside his chest. If something were to ever happen to you...

The angel hadn't even noticed that he had already started crying again, fist tightened and body shaking whilst getting lost in fears of losing the one good and bright thing this world had still left.

"But for me you're more than just a guardian angel. You're my angel and I want you to feel happy as well. I want you to feel loved as well. You do so much for me, but I feel like I only cause you stress and uneasiness. Shouldn't you be happy because of me?", you asked him in slight protest, feeling sadness whilst seeing the man you had come to love like this again because of you. You had never seen him truly relaxed nor had you ever been able to show him your feelings. He wouldn't let you, not thinking that he deserved you.

His reaction was instant, suddenly falling on his knees upon hearing from what you had said that he had disappointed you yet again, the visible look of your sorrow only stabbing his fear deeper into his very soul.

"I-I am so sorry! I didn't know that you felt this way only because I was so selfish to only think about myself like this! I don't deserve your forgiveness and accept any sort of-"

When he felt the soft sensation of your hands cupping his stained cheeks, he abruptly stopped his rambling, trying to not choke on his own breath that had gotten irregular.

"You don't have to apologize to me. I don't want to hear you saying such things about yourself. Don't you understand? I am unhappy whenever you are like this, seeing yourself as so worthless and not deserving of my love. That's what hurts me so much. You're rejecting my feelings. I love you, Ash. And I want to know if you do too. Because if you do, please stop talking like this and behave so distantly."

Your voice conveyed every bit emotion that was going on inside of you in that moment, something that Ash noticed with widened eyes as well.

Silence was cut short by him when he realized that you wanted something crucial from him which he would gladly give you. He had never considered that you would ever consider his love as something you wanted, consider him as someone you loved. When had been the last time someone had been truly kind to him and loved him? He couldn't remember anymore.

"Of course I do. You should never doubt my feelings for you. I love you more than you could ever imagine. It's impossible to function without you.", he managed to reply with a shaking voice as he grabbed both of your hands in his own.

"Then why are you acting like this? Everyone deserves someone who loves them. Without love it's a very painful life, isn't it? That's why I am hurting as well. Let me love you and I promise that you'll be able to feel peace as well.", you muttered slightly embarrassed out, leaning your head down so your forehead could rest against his own.

Slight sobs were starting to catch up to Ash as he was staring in pure awe at you.

"Thank you. I'll be better and make sure that I won't cause you sadness anymore.", he pressed out, tightening his grip on your hands only the slightest bit so he wouldn't hurt you.

"I'm glad to hear that.", you replied with a sincere smile on your face, joy stirring your heart up just by seeing that for the first time since he had abducted you, Ash was looking relieved and less tense. He just looked extremely grateful.

"May I ask you for a favor then?", you requested with a certain idea in mind.

"I'll do anything for you.", Ash replied, sounding very emotional.

"I want to do something for you for once since you normally do anything for me."

Hesitation and clear dislike instantly shadowed his face, the thought of him asking something from you going against Ash's belief in all the wrong ways. You shouldn't have to do him favors.

"It doesn't have to be something difficult. It can be a really simple thing. Just...something that I can do for you this once. Please.", you begged slightly, seeing the angel already struggling. You knew how he felt about such things, he hated letting you do something for him and he had never done it before either. Ash saw it only upon himself to serve you which was another thing that sometimes made you feel guilty. You wanted to do more for him as well.

"Can I...can I kiss you?"

Maybe that had been more a slip of his tongue, but he had been slightly panicking since hadn't want to sadden you again nor had he wanted you to do physical work for him. It was supposed to be the other way around.

So when he had stared for a moment at your face, eyes locked on your lips, he had considered somewhere deep in his mind possibilities which he had been fantasizing about a few times before, but hadn't thought that they would actually have a change of happening.

In his opinion they were still sinful, it would take a while for him to get used to the idea that you wanted to receive physical affection and love from him. The first impulse when he realized what he had said was instantly apologizing, only to be interrupted before he could even start saying anything.

You had already leaned down to fulfill him his wish before he could take it back again.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Mr. Petrus is somewhere in public when a meek stranger approaches him on the street. They immediately recognized him as a Handler—formerly theirs. They appear alone, and half a second from falling to their knees should he so much as look at them a certain way. They try to tell him something but the words catch in their throat and only a quiet noise slips free. How does he react this unexpected interaction?

CW: Pet whump, whumper POV, creepy/intimate whumper, escaped whumpee returns to whumper, dehumanization, collared, implied dubcon/noncon at end, dubcon touch, dubcon kiss

He isn’t usually the type to go out to bars - Luke’s a workaholic on a good week, content to all but live in his Facility sleeping quarters, leaving for supplies or to spend a day out in the sun and then coming right back.

When you love what you do, as they say, you’ll never work a day in your life.

Still, Renford's essentially mandated he take a damn vacation for once. He’s left behind his trainees and headed out to enjoy himself at a bar he used to frequent, back before he found he preferred to frequent the cells the frightened young men are held in, waiting for the slightest touch to remind them they exist.

Luke sits back on a barstool with a beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other. Oh, he’s not supposed to smoke, but this bar doesn’t push the issue and he’s not the only one filling the air with the familiar, acrid scent.

Out on the floor, people dance together, barely lit by dim lights changing color every so often, Red, blue, and green move over sweaty skin, curves and straight lines. Luke enjoys it all. He quirks a smile. He can see, just looking, who here would look fucking gorgeous with a collar buckled around their neck and a little more emptiness inside.

Get ‘em so empty they need someone to fill it up.

Luke’s probably ten years older than the oldest of the people on the dance floor, but that doesn’t bother him. Plenty of people like an older man, and those who don’t… well, if he gets them on the wrong end of his baton, they don’t really get to choose what they like or don’t, now do they?

The beat is a deafening rumble that rolls against his skin in rhythm and Luke hums contentedly. His beer is cool and rolls with citrus sourness along his tongue and down his throat, slightly fizzy compared to the darker stuff. Bright enough to flirt with tasting like cider, or nearly so.

Some local craft brewery shit, probably. In his Facility studio, Luke just keeps some basic Coors. No need to get fancy at home, after all.

Does he even have beer in his actual home? It’s been so long since he’s been there…

Something touches his arm, pulls just slightly at his sleeve, and Luke turns, head tipping to the side, a grin already on his lips.

There’s a lithe, beautiful young man there, with hair dyed a brilliant, ridiculously bright purple, eyes ringed in eyeliner. He has a lip ring, Luke notes, his tongue moving out to run over his own lower lip in thought.

There’s something familiar about the young man, although Luke can’t quite place him. Not exactly.

But the shiver of trepidation mixed with a desperation to have eyes - and more than eyes - on him… Luke knows that well enough. It tells him what he wants to know. His smile widens, just a little. “Evening, pretty boy.”

The young man looks up at him, his hand still hovering just over Luke’s bicep, and his mouth opens like he’ll reply. All that comes out is a soft sound that Luke only hears because a new song has started, slightly off-key piano playing over a heavily-synthesized voice and the slow introduction of a beat.

“What?” Luke’s eyebrows raise. “Use your words.”

The young man takes a step closer, and then another. He’s moving like a newborn fawn, on suddenly-awkward legs like he might fall to his knees at any moment. Luke was watching the dancers before, but now his gaze is wholly caught by the absolute goddamn sexiness of a runaway pet who can’t stop himself from walking back into a cage.

“H-Handler Petrus,” The runaway says, and when Luke’s hand moves to cup his face, the young man tips his head immediately into it. His eyes are watering, wet with tears that haven’t yet fallen. As soon as one slips out, Luke leans slowly forward and licks up the side of his face. The runaway whimpers at the wet heat of his tongue, the casual ownership of the action.

“That’s me,” He murmurs into the young man’s ear. “You know it. Why aren’t you running from me?”

The young man swallows, hard, and turns his head, pressing his own lips in a shivering, fearful brush against Luke’s cheek. “I-I’m hungry,” He says, voice almost too low to pick up. “And… and I don’t-... I don’t w-want-...” His voice trails off, and Luke’s smile only widens as the runaway leans forward and rests his forehead against Luke’s shoulder.

He sighs, setting his beer down half-drunk and turning to run his condensation-cold fingers through that garishly bright purple hair. “You ran away, huh?”

He already knows the answer.

The runaway pet nods without speaking.

“It’s not all it’s cracked up to be, is it?” Luke slides off his barstool, shifting to slide an arm around the runaway’s shoulders. He slaps a ten-dollar bill on the bar and walks away, heading for the door, the beat of a song bouncing off his skin right up until they step outside. It’s chilly out here, with a stiff breeze blowing the scent of saltwater through the air around them. It feels a little like walking through the surf, down here at the old warehouse district.

“No. I’m… hungry all the time, I still have to fuck for a place to sleep, people are… mean sometimes, I don’t know. I don’t know what to do, where to go.”

Fuck. He has to make sure the lib people don’t get ahold of this little beauty. He’s exactly what they’re looking to save.

“What’s your number?” He asks, casual as can be. The runaway isn’t wearing long-sleeves or a bracelet, he’s scarred on the inside of his left wrist when Luke takes a peek. Looks like he cut the tattoo off of himself, or had someone else do it, once upon a time.

“654338,” The pet says automatically, without hesitation. “Designation Romantic, Facility 001-”

“Yeah, I got that part.” Luke cuts him off and the pet falls back into silence. “Why’d you run away?” With his blue eyes as cold as ever, Luke lights another cigarette, takes a deep, deep drag, exhales smoke into the air in front of them as they move. The runaway coughs into one hand.

“I just… didn’t want to, anymore. With my owner.”

“You should know that what you want doesn’t fucking matter,” Luke says amiably, but the runaway winces and hunches into himself. Luke watches from the corner of his eye, his own mouth watering at the sight of the pet’s shame, his nervousness. “You don’t exist to get what you want. So why come up to me?”

“I thought maybe-... maybe you could help me.”

“Get back to your owner?”

The pet turns to look up at him, with gorgeous warm brown eyes full of pleading. “No, Handler Petrus. Please, please no. Just… just, to someone else, please, someone who won’t-... hurt me so badly. Please. Please.”

“It’s my job to get any runaway I see back to the Facility, gorgeous thing. Then back home."

“No. No, don’t take me back there! Please, I can’t-... I can’t do the lights again, please. I can't take how he h-hurts when, when he-"

"Yeah, yeah." Luke rolls his eyes. "Wimp."

The pet's eyes close against more tears.

Luke snorts at the sight. Pathetic. “We have pretty strict contracts that ensure runaways go right back to their rightful owners.”

“No, please, just-... can you help me another way?” The runaway goes up on his toes, presses his lips to Luke’s chin, against the corner of his mouth. Those pretty hands move to slide up under Luke’s shirt, cold fingers against his warm stomach. They tease moving downward. There’s a distance in the pet’s eyes, now, separating himself from what he’s doing to earn what he’s desperate for.

Luke considers. Then he has an idea, and he sighs, as if he's won over.

“Tell you what.” He rubs a thumb over the runaway’s lower lip, toys with his lip ring. The pet opens his mouth to show the silver stud on his tongue. Luke’s smile goes slightly cock-eyed, a jolt of heat straight to the pit of his stomach, spreading from there. “I’ve got a friend who might be able to keep you. I’m not going to just hand over anyone, though.”

The pet takes Luke’s thumb into his mouth, sucks lightly, rolling the tongue piercing against the underside in an unspoken promise. He pulls back just to ask, “What do I need to do?”

“I have an apartment, a week’s worth of vacation scheduled, and you can show me just how good you are at earning your keep.”

The runaway swallows with an audible click in his throat, then nods. “I-I can do that.”

“I know you can, baby. I’m the one who trained you. Now, let’s go find out how good you are with that tongue ring.”

Luke leads the pet away, towards his car, smiling contentedly into the night. He can enjoy a week of desperate eagerness, then drug the fuck out of the pretty thing, buckle a collar right back around his neck, and throw him into a cell at WRU to be wiped and put back where he belongs.

Once he’s on the Drip for a couple of days, he won’t even know Luke broke a promise.

He’ll be the same puppy-eager for Luke’s hands and mouth and anything else he wants to give him that he is right now. Plus, Luke’ll get a nice little bonus for turning in a runaway.

This is shaping up to be an excellent vacation.

[frostedfaves]

All Too Well

Masterlist

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: A new year leads to a new argument.

Warnings: angst

A/N: this was supposed to be a super angsty breakup fic inspired by Taylor Swift’s All Too Well, but apparently idk how to write sad shit anymore so enjoy whatever this is 😔 (on the bright side, I found a nickname for Wanda to use in my upcoming series 👀)

-

“Those aren’t even the lyrics!” Wanda shouted over the radio, her laughter nearly covering her speech like a blanket.

“Of course it is!” You reached over to turn down the volume on the radio. “Take it from someone who sang this song every day for a year during every single shower.”

“Well, it’s a shame your shampoo bottles never told you that you were serenading them with the wrong words.”

A loud laugh escaped you as both of your heads turned in the same moment, yours to gaze out the passenger window and hers to watch you. The orange and brown leaves that dropped from the trees were only part of the lovely scene in front of you, and Wanda thought the colors provided a wonderful background for her own movie. She got lost in admiring your features, wishing to run her thumb along your lips as a smile formed there, or place a palm against your cheeks, warmed by the sun. Her attention turned back to the road just in time to stop herself from passing a red light, throwing an arm across your torso to keep you from lurching forward against the seatbelt.

“Sorry,” she apologized with flushed cheeks, and you couldn’t help but poke one as you assured her everything was fine. Turns out the sun can bring warmth to fingers, too.

As the two of you made your way to your shared apartment, Wanda wished for your heated touch now, instead of the cold glare you directed to the windshield. She was grateful it was pointed toward the street for now, and she was tempted to drive on forever with the heat blasting until you defrosted. Anything to avoid the confrontation she knew was coming.

“What the hell was that?”

“Baby, please,” she sighed. “The new year just started. Can’t we wait until the sun comes up again and we’ve had some sleep?”

“I’ve waited long enough, Wanda.”

Her shoulders tensed and a shiver ran down her spine because your stare was focused on her now, and the ice made its way to your vocal chords, leaving an especially thick layer around her name. You hadn’t called her anything aside from ‘honeydew’ since your first date, and she endured the teasing from her team because seeing the sparkle in your eyes was worth it. Hearing you say her name now felt like being cursed.

“Can we at least wait until we get home?” she pleaded as she faced you after stopping at the red light. “I want to be able to look you in the eye without putting you in danger.”

“Fine.”

You broke away first to turn the radio volume up, turning your head to avoid her watery eyes. Her vulnerable gaze nearly melted away your resolve entirely, and you refused to let this go on any longer. Wanda forced herself to keep her own eyes on the road and the drive went on silently aside from the song pouring in through the speakers, neither of you bothering to fight over the correct lyrics. You were back at your building within a few minutes, and while you rode the elevator up from the parking garage, Wanda took the stairs. She had no idea what she was walking into, and she just needed to pretend everything was okay for a little bit longer.

When she opened the apartment door, your coat was already hung by the door and she could hear your bare feet padding along the wooden floor to the bedroom. She took her time hanging her own coat and slipping off her shoes, following you down the hall and nearly dropping them out of her hand when she saw you staring at her from the edge of the bed.

“What the hell was that?” you repeated, watching Wanda walk past to place her shoes in the closet.

“I’m going to need more than that, detka.” Her accent became more prominent as her nerves grew, a deep crease forming between her brows as she faced you and leaned against the opposite wall. “What are you asking about?”

“That woman asked about your girlfriend and you told her it was ‘nothing serious’.”

“I was just...saving face.” She kept her arms folded as she shrugged. “She’s friends with Tony and they talk all the time. If I would’ve been all obnoxious about our relationship, he would’ve made a big deal about it later.”

“You’ve been getting teased for ten months by Earth’s mightiest heroes over a nickname and expressing your love for your girlfriend is where you draw the line?!”

“Okay, I’m sorry! It was a mistake and it won’t happen again.” She pushed off the wall and walked forward to grab your hand, but you jumped off the bed and headed toward the kitchen before she could get close. “What--”

“You’ve stopped talking to me, too.”

“We’re literally talking now! We talked on Christmas Day--”

“Oh yeah, I really enjoyed that 30 second talk we had over pancake batter before the whole team stormed in and took over,” you huffed into the refrigerator while searching for something to drink.

“If you have a problem with the Avengers, just say it.”

“I love your team!” you cried out as you closed the refrigerator door. “I probably see more of them than I do you. Three weeks ago, I went to the tower because I hadn’t heard from you all day and I had to find out from the fucking spider kid that you volunteered to join some last minute mission. And you know what? We had dinner together and I talked to him for two hours, which is probably longer than I’ve talked to you since then.”

“I can’t help it if missions come up,” Wanda challenged as she took the glass of water you offered. “This is my job, just like you have yours.”

“I know, but you had your phone with you. At least send a text, let me know you’re okay.”

“I will. Is that it?” She watched your eyes avert from hers, sighing when you headed toward the couch in the living room instead of the bedroom. “It’s not, is it?”

“I just want to know why you haven’t been happy.” You finally met her gaze again when she stopped a few feet away.

“What? I’m happy.”

“Nothing’s been the same since that day you were driving and nearly ran the red light. That was in October, and it’s the beginning of January now.”

“You’re wrong,” Wanda insisted as she inched closer. “I’m happy.”

“I drove myself crazy here while you were gone on all these lengthy trips, trying to think of why you wanted to be so far away all the time. Maybe you weren’t feeling this anymore, or you’d found someone that made you feel more alive--”

“I told you I’m happy!”

In a split second, red filled her eyes and surrounded her hand as she sent her glass flying against the wall. You stared at the droplets of water running down the eggshell colored surface to the wooden floor, flinching when Wanda placed her hand on your thigh as she knelt in front of you and relaxing when you were met with her usual eye color.

“I’m sorry.” She squeezed gently as she sighed, never breaking eye contact. “I’ve just been worried. When we’re together, I tend to lose myself in your existence, and it isn’t safe. A few seconds more, and that day could’ve ended a lot differently.”

“I had my seatbelt on,” you reminded her as you placed your palm over her knuckles, and she shook her head. 

“There are a lot worse threats than a car accident, detka. I just fear that one day, I’ll be wrapped around you so tightly that I won’t have time to free myself and protect you from danger.”

“So your solution to protecting me more was to leave me totally alone with no warning?”

“Now that I’m hearing it with a clear head, it doesn’t sound like such a good plan,” she chuckled with a shake of her head.

“No, it doesn’t, honeydew.” You squeezed her hand with a smile that widened at the sight of Wanda’s. “What?”

“I just never thought I could miss a silly nickname so much.”

-

Tags: @littlegasps @peggycarter-steverogers @imnotasuperhero @natasha-danvers @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @creepingwolfberry @honeyvenable