#i messaged them to apologise and try to explain and i asked if we could talk so i could explain and apologise

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Pent Up 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, virginity loss, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you seek validation through online correspondence with incarcerated men, only for one to lock you down in turn.

Characters: convict/excon!Thor (silverfox)

Note: It's an addiction now.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

'I never thought I'd be writing to someone like you, but you've shown me a different side of things. I hope that my emails give you comfort and can help you through. Even on the other side, they get me through my day. I'm always excited to read when there's a ding in my inbox.

I hope you also enjoy the little bit I could put in your commissary. If I lived closer, maybe I could bring you something homemade. At the moment, bus fare is a bit too much for my pockets.

Anyway, signing off.

Yours,

Diamond'

You add a whole line of heart emojis to the email then hit send. You giggle and click on the next. You don't have the heart to copy and paste so you add a bit of variety to the next.

This one is... Thor? That's his name. He's a funny one. Considering he's in the pen, you're surprised by that. The others are so dire; pushy too.

You hit reply on his last email. Something about a fight and apologising for not replying earlier. He says he was in solitary for a whole week. That sounds miserable. The thought is enough to scare you straight. It's why you've never done anything wrong in your whole life. Until now.

It's not really wrong. It's allowed. It's legal. You're just sending messages. If anything, it's a community service. These men don't have much more contact than each other and that's a recipe for chaos.

You won't admit that other reason aloud. That tickly feeling in your stomach. When they compliment you, when they say they missed you. You can't help but smile, even giggle sometimes. It's nice to be appreciated, even if it's all a fantasy.

You'll never meet these men. That's the fun part. You don't have to worry about any of this. Maybe that helps. Maybe you think too much when you're face-to-face. That explains why every cute guy you talk to sees past you.

'I forgive you, sweetie. It must have been so hard in there. The important thing is you replied. I got so worried! I hope that after all that, my email can bring a bit of comfort. I have to be honest, I never thought I'd be chatting with someone like you. That I could find this type of connection. Please, take care and email soon.'

Another parade of emojis follows and you send it off happily. Now you just have to wait and see who gets back to you first. If it's Ernie, you're not sure you'll respond. He's been fixated on his cell mate and his emails are getting a bit scary. That's the other great part. You can always just delete and block.

The response comes an hour later. You're sleepy and ready to pass out. You read it anyway.

'You are so kind, my queen.' You giggle. Yeah, he calls you that sometimes. If only he knew you were sitting in bed with an ice cream sandwich wrapper and your cell phone. Definitely not queenly behaviour. 'I got through it by thinking of you, of dreaming of the day when we can talk face-to-face. Wouldn't that be lovely? For all my mistakes, I think they will mean something if you and me can be together.'

You make a face. He's so cheesy. You can't help but laugh again. You're not trying to be cruel, you do empathise with his situation, you can't imagine being in prison, but like anyone else, he earned his time. There's one last light.

'If it isn't too much trouble, would you kindly send a picture so I have a face to admire in my lonelier moments? I've attached my own. Forgive me as it dates a few years back.'

You're not smiling anymore. You haven't sent any of the men pictures. They haven't offered theirs but you can look up their mug shots easily. You hate to ruin the fantasy but curiosity has you tapping the attachment.

Oh. You're surprised. He's older than you in this picture and by his own confession, is more so now. But he isn't repugnant. Anything but. Tall, blond, thick! You don't know if you've ever seen a man that size.

Even in a suit, it's obvious that his arms are bulging and his chest is ripe to burst out as the jacket button clings for dear life. The photo is cropped so that whoever he took it with is out of frame. His blue eyes sparkle above a defined smile. Has prison worn down all that?

You squirm. Guilt needles in your chest. You could close out and worry about it in the morning. You shouldn't be that sympathetic. He's still a criminal. You can say no. Easily. What's he going to do about it?

What could it hurt? If he saw your face. It's not like anyone would know. That anyone would recognise you or that he could find you anywhere else. You keep your social media anonymous. You aren't like the influencers who get attention just for being pretty.

It's that that gives you pause. You aren't anything but average. It's easier to pretend you're some pretty thing as you message these faceless men. Well, maybe that's a good thing. Maybe once he sees you, you won't have to worry about all that other stuff. He'll cut you off at the pass.

The thrill of it overwhelms your reluctance. It's like gambling, it could go either way.

You start a new message. More meaningly rewording of previous sentiments. Nothing new. Then you scroll through your photo roll. You take a breath and press down on a photo you think isn't half bad. It's from market day you went to with your aunt. Not exactly cutting edge but fun. She snuck in the shot as you smiled down at your gooey cinnamon roll. The impromptu snap is better than most of your posed ones.

You send and quickly lock the phone. You shove it under your pillow and swipe up the wrapper beside you. You leave it on your night stand and sink down, your insides swimming with anxiety. You're going to regret this in the morning.

🎀

'Will you call me?'

The question makes you sweat. You don't know why you feel bad. You've said no before. To him. To all of them. You draw a thick line between your secret little hobby and your real life. You shouldn't have ever sent that photo.

Despite your regret, you smile. His response was more than you could expect. The praise! You don't know that anyone ever even called you cute but he as good as wrote you a poem about your beauty. You have to remind yourself, given his circumstance, he's starved. He'd probably think your nan is sexy.

Still, you're having a hard time typing those two letter; N-O. Thor is so nice. And he asked so sweetly. But you can't do that. What if someone found out?

This whole thing is starting to feel like a big mistake, but it's so much fun. When in your life will men ever be this into you? When have they ever?

'I could call' you type without thinking. What are you doing? 'Let me know how to do that and we can set a time maybe.'

Don't hit send. Don't hit send.

Email sent.

Shit. Oh gosh. Why did you do that?

You close your laptop and leave it on your desk. You need to get ready for work. You can't be worrying about a man you'll never meet. It's all virtual, it's not real. You'll be okay.

You get yourself together and brace yourself for work. You don't really like your job. You work the counter at a tech repair shop. Independent so it's small and slow. Your boss is a bit strange too.

The only benefit is it's close and it pays a few bucks more than the alternative. You're even allowed to work on your online courses at the service desk. Really, it's perfect. You guess you're just not happy with things being boring.

You blow over the lid of your Sailor Moon travel mug and knock on the door. Jensen lets you in with a grin and stifles a yawn in his elbow. You step past him with a sheepish smile.

"If it isn't the champion of justice," he greets smugly and locks the door. You won't open for another half hour.

"Huh?" You go to the counter and slide your bag onto the shelf underneath.

"Your cup," he crosses the shop. “I am Sailor Moon, the champion of justice. In the name of the moon, I will right wrong and triumph over evil… and that means you!”

"Oh, right," you snort at his cheesiness. "You have espresso or something?"

"Red bull," he admits guiltily.

"This early?"

"Early? I never went to sleep," he comes around and goes back to typing on his glowing gaming computer. "Couldn't let my crew down."

You could roll your eyes. All he does is play Fortnite or Halo. He looks like he does too. Yet, he's in here moping after every rare stunner that walks through the door. That's why you'er there. He gets all tongue-tied with women. Well, all of them but you.

"You should join the party," he suggests.

"Well, I don't really play anymore," you shrug. "It was only for fun. My siblings... like it."

"Oh yeah, how's the family?"

"Good, I guess. They don't really call."

Your mom's too busy rebuilding her life with your step-dad. Rather, building the perfect life she never had. You sigh and open up your laptop. You grab your coffee and sip. You're tired of being forgotten.

"Jake," you say, he winces at the use of his first name, "Jensen," you glance at him, "you're a dude."

"Yeah, I am" he answers uncertainly.

"Well, you might know more than I do. You know anyone in prison? Any guys?"

"What?" He exclaims. "Where did that come from?"

"Mm... I was watching a documentary last night," you lie. "About prison or whatever."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, and about you know," you sway and look at your laptop. You're terrible at lying. "The women who like write to them or whatever."

"Ew, like the Ted Bundy weirdos?" He scoffs.

"Not exactly. I mean, none of them were murderers. I think," you shrug. "But... like, if you were in prison, you'd need that, right? I mean, it's just to get you through."

"I don't know. It'd be lonely, yeah, but like... what about after?" He scratches his neck. "I got a buddy who was in for a while but he's a good dude. He was only selling... stuff."

"Really?" You perk up, "he went to prison?"

"Well, he doesn't like to talk about it," Jensen says. "Why are you talking about this?"

"Making conversation. I was just thinking about the show," you sign into your laptop. "Just thinking... I mean, how do you even end up there?"

"Bad things. I learned my lesson when I was sixteen. I broke into the high school on a dare and the cops put me in cuffs for two hours. They let me go once I cried... I mean, I was a kid so..."

You nod and try not to show any judgment. That sounds about right. A notification pops up in the corner as Jensen goes back to the fluttering over his keyboard. You click on the email.

'I've been granted call-time at noon. You can call the number below and request by my inmate number...'

You quickly minimize and hide behind your cup as you slurp. Shoot. You didn't think he'd be so fast. A call at noon? You can't say no. Not now that he got approved.

Well, this is the only time it's happening.

[daenysx]

tangerine and misunderstanding trope 🥺? i love how you write him!

-send me drabble requests!

tangerine x fem!reader

It hurts more than you think it would. The messages he didn't reply, the missed calls, the invitations to your apartment he didn't even respond to.

Maybe you were fooling yourself.

You don't let yourself fall into self pity, though. Tangerine is not your boyfriend. He's not, right? Because to be your boyfriend, he should've done something about it. Instead he's been ghosting your efforts to reach out.

You think being hurt over a man who's not your boyfriend is a terrible thing. For many reasons.

He is your something, though. You really like him. You like his deep blue eyes, his kind smile, his stupid jokes, and his frown. You like how soft he seems to be next to you, how his lips curl upwards when he talks about Lemon, how his hands always find yours under any table. You don't want to let this go. You just wish him to try a little, at least.

And, you know what? Fuck him, if he doesn't. Maybe he's not the man you met, maybe he's changed. Maybe he doesn't have enough courage to come and say he doesn't want anything to do with you. Maybe he's just a coward who doesn't know how to end something that didn't even start.

You wish you could stop liking this coward so much.

The day goes on just like any others. You come home earlier, luckily taking the emptier bus and buying some much needed groceries. You settle down on your evening routine easily, a nice shower and dinner afterwards, picking up something to watch as you mindlessly scroll on your phone. The couch is comfy under your body as you get a book in your hand, minutes slipping quickly, you think you can fall asleep here tonight.

Someone knocks on the door.

You flinch, sleep leaving your body immediately. No one called you before coming over, who's at the door? You walk slowly, trying to get a glimpse of the person outside with your hand on your heart.

It's him.

Is it too late to pretend to be asleep? No, you're not running away from this. You're having this conversation, what is he doing here anyway? He doesn't even have the decency to let you know before he comes over. You open the door with a rush of anger in your chest.

"Hey, darlin'," Tangerine says. Is that blood on his hands? "Sorry, were you sleeping?"

You shake your head, trying to get your mind work properly. "You didn't call."

He looks sorry. He should look sorry, actually. You didn't deserve any of it.

"Can I come in?" he asks. You let him take a few steps inside. He follows you to the living room, leaving his suit jacket on the side of the couch with practiced movements. It suddenly hurts how he looks like he belongs here. How he acts like it.

"Where have you been?" you ask without thinking. "You didn't answer my calls for days."

You don't care if you sound pathetic. He really worried you.

"I apologise," he begins. "I- I lost my phone on a business meeting and couldn't get a new one, I still don't have one actually, didn't have time to-"

This sounds like a shitty excuse and you talk before you can stop yourself.

"You know what- don't explain. I mean you don't have to. I'm not your girlfriend, so it's none of my business. I was just thinking you'd at least say something real. Something that sounds like a proper excuse."

"Wha- What do you mean you're not my girlfriend?" Tangerine asks. He looks genuinely confused.

You part your lips, then close them. He does surprising things tonight.

"I mean, we never made that clear, did we?" you say, slowly. "And to be honest, it's worse if you think I'm your girlfriend and still ghosted my texts for days."

"I didn't- Look, I'm sorry if this sounds like a fucked up explanation, but I'm telling the truth. I-" he takes a deep breath. "I never properly told you what I do for work, and it was wrong of me, but I was afraid that if you know- you'd never want to see me again."

You know bits and pieces about his job, you think you don't care about it now, though. You can get over it probably, but being hurt by him and feeling like he ignored you all this time is harder to accept.

"I really did think we were in a relationship," he says. His eyes are- oh, fuck him. They look so beautiful under this light, all wide and somehow innocent, he's telling the truth. "I promise, I didn't ghost your calls. I tried to do better, but I- I'm really sorry."

You take his hand. He looks at you like he's lost in all the emotions. Tangerine is not used to this, to have someone other than Lemon who worries about him and he clearly doesn't know how to make his thoughts on relationships clear. You know things don't work well over assumptions, but it doesn't look hard to fix them. You really like him. Like him enough to forgive him when he's telling the truth and rub your thumb on the back of his hand.

"Do you want me to be your girlfriend?" you ask, bravely. Things are gonna be okay, you believe.

"Of course," he replies. It's a risk, but he's made for worse of them. "More than anything."

"Okay," you say, nodding with a nice smile on your face. "But if we're gonna start this properly, we need to communicate. I don't wanna lose my mind over doubting if you like me enough to reply my texts."

He holds you, unable to stop himself from kissing your forehead. An untold apology lingers in the air. You like having Tangerine in your space.

"I like you more than enough," he says. "I know I don't deserve it, but I'm a lucky bastard that you even care to give me a chance. I'll try to be better, yeah? Really, I'll do better."

You kiss him, it's a good one for your first kiss as lovers. You squeeze his hand in yours, he kisses you back with a rush of big emotions. He's gonna carry them well, though. He has to, otherwise he'd never forgive himself.

"You can tell me all about your job when you get cleaned up in the bathroom," you tell him. "Maybe I'm being an idiot for starting a relationship with a guy when I barely know what he does for work, but I'm gonna take that risk."

Tangerine likes risks. He likes the idea of someone taking risks for him, it's a delicious feeling on his chest. He promises to be honest. Anything comes after, is a risk for him to take.

He lets you take him to the bathroom.

[gguk-n]

Turned Page (Franco Colapinto x Park Jimin's ex!Reader)

Series Masterlist

No hate to anyone this is all fiction

Face Claim- Jenna Ortega

{Reader's POV}

Jimin and I met at an award show back in 2017. I had just started acting in shows away from Disney and this was my first gig as an MC at a major award show. I had the honour of presenting an award to BTS. That's how we became friends and the eventually started dating.

Dating Jimin was like a fairytale, he was my prince charming. He would buy me flowers, plan intricate and elaborate dates. Being with him felt like I was on cloud nine sometimes and other time, I felt like complete and utter crap. There would be time when Jimin would completely ignore me, air all my calls and leave my messages on delivered. In those times, I wished I could fly to him and ask what's up? I did do that a few times and those were the times I had the biggest fights with him. I thought we would break up whenever we fought like that, but he would always apologise and his sweet words and voice would lull me back into a sense of security I never had.

Jimin was busy prepare for stuff before he enlist, recording 2 albums and the content to go with it kept him busy. As a kind gesture, I sent him coffee trucks and on one of his music video shoots, I even went to see him. But he didn't look happy to see me. He dragged me into his dressing room, "How can you be so careless?" he snarked. "I wasn't. I'm here as a friend to see you" I mumbled. "Friend? ha, every one knows a girl and a guy can't be friends. Especially if you pull the shit you just did" he almost shouted. "I'm sorry. I thought you would be tired and wanted to cheer you up" I muttered. "Y/N, Jagiya, I'm tired of how you behave sometimes. Grow up, you know how the Korean industry is, why do you want me to fail?" Jimin asked. "I don't" I said as tears started to fall. "Don't start this now, I didn't say anything and you're crying" Jimin sighed exasperated running a hand through his perfectly styled hair. "Look what you made me do, I have to have my hair done again" Jimin huffed. "I'm sorry. I'll do better" I begged. "You can't. If you had to you would've by now" Jimin chuckled. "I thought you'd mature by now but I was wrong. You're too stupid. What if we get caught? Then what?" he asked. "You can just tell them we're dating" I croaked out swallowing the lump in my throat. "I don't think you get it. In the west, people date and whatever, it's not like that here. I have a reputation to withhold." he sighed. "Am I not good enough?" I cried out. "No, you are too immature for me" Jimin said.

"We're done. I can't deal with a dating scandal right now" he said calling his hair dresser. I was stood there shocked while Jimin got ready for the next shot. I had tears streaming down my cheeks, my eyes were red as I rubbed them trying to stop crying. "You are an asshole, Park Jimin. I hope you rot in misery of your own making" screamed leaving his dressing room

y/n.y/l/n

Liked by francocolapinto and 1,368,080 others

y/n.y/l/n Cheering my mate to healing myself

user7 What happened???🥺🥺 user8 everyone loves mate❤️❤️ user9 I hope you're doing well🥹😭❤️ user10 she looks so much better lately🫢🫢 francocolapinto come back, I have more mate Liked by Author user11 okay who is this franco dude and why did she like his comment??👀

francocolapinto

Liked by y/n.y/l/n and 587,982 others

francocolapinto What an unforgettable day!! I can't explain how much I enjoyed my first race in F1. Great pace and we work very well with the team. Also had the honour of celebrating it with my most special person❤️❤️

y/n.y/l/n congratulations!! So proud of you😭😭 user12 Y/N dating Franco wasn't on my 2024 bingo card🫣🫣 user13 user12 neither was Franco debuting in F1🥹😭 user14 Power couple😭❤️ user15 so cute!! They are just the cutessssttt❤️❤️❤️

francocolapinto

Liked by y/n.y/l/n and 811,297 others

francocolapinto mix de un finde muy feliz💫 mix of a very happy weekend

y/n.y/l/n Can't wait to watch you win a race soon!!😭 francocolapinto y/n.y/l/n my lucky charm🍀 user16 miss rabbit has fainted😭 user17 The Lewis and Y/N and Lewis and Franco interaction was everything!!🥹❤️❤️ user18 my fav couple everrr❤️❤️ user19 the second picture 😂😂 user20 I hope Y/N comes to all the races👀

y/n.y/l/n

Liked by francocolapinto, 1,297,280 others

y/n.y/l/n my boyfriend scored points in his second f1 race!!! Can't explain how proud I am😭😏

francocolapinto can you stop crying now? y/n.y/l/n francocolapinto never, I'm just so happy for you🥹🥹 user21 she is literally glowing!!!😍😍 user22 they are so in love it's sickening❤️❤️ user23 Franco is a gentleman thru and thru❤️ user24 I'm sure Franco has baby fever from the third picture😌😌 francocolapinto user24 yes I do👀 user24 francocolapinto OMMGGGG!!!😭 user25 she said, this my man, no more flirting with him🤤😍

[georgeclarkesgf]

forgetful | george clarke

the minute george stepped into the flat, he knew something was off.

"y/n? you here?" walking further into the flat, he found y/n in the kitchen making herself a cup of tea, "hey, sorry i'm back so late. we missed t-"

"don't. i can't believe you. all i asked was that you not plan to film today and i wake up to a message telling me you've gone to film a video for arthur. do you even know why i asked you to stay home today?"

he was trying to remember, really he was. but his mind was blank and the guilt began to seep in, only just noticing the tears that left stains on her cheeks.

"no. of course you don't. my parents are in town george. i planned a nice lunch, maybe go on a walk, come back to the flat for a few drinks, but all that went to shit because you left to film a stupid video and then ignored my messages all day. you know how important it is to me that you get along with my parents so having to cancel on them last minute because you weren't even here was not something i wanted to have to do." the tears in her eyes were threatening to fall again, hating how needy and pathetic she sounded.

"we can sti-" george tried, again quickly being shut down.

"no george, i'm mad at you. you don't get to say it'll be alright and that we can still do something. we're not playing happy families. you've hurt me. when we sort this out, then we organise something else."

now the guilt was in full swing and he immediately started to think of ways he could make it up to her, knowing it would take a lot of grovelling to get back onto her good side.

"i'm going to bed, i love you." a soft kiss being placed on his lips.

"i love you too." slight relief evident on his face, knowing she'll never not say 'i love you', even during an argument.

she rounded the kitchen island, starting to make her way to his room and get ready for bed. george watched as she closed the door, still stood in the kitchen, contemplating whether to follow her or give her some space.

he decided on the latter.

--------

it was nearing midnight when george decided he needed some sleep, and the dip in the bed as he got comfortable was enough to wake y/n, a groan leaving her lips.

"sorry. i didn't mean to wake you," she let out an agitated hum of acknowledgement and rolled over, curling into george's side, unable to resist the heat his body always provided, "still mad at me?"

"yep." she responded, accentuating the 'p'.

"okay. can we talk about it?"

"i've said my peace. you go."

"i really am sorry sweetheart, i feel awful," her nails were running along the lines and dips of his stomach, a habit he'd grown accustomed to over the several months they'd been together, "the video was planned ages ago and i didn't even realise the dates clashed. when you reminded me of 'that thing' that was happening today i thought you meant filming. i promise to make it up to you. and your parents. please say they don't hate me."

george hoped it was enough, not that he wouldn't do anything she asked to get her to forgive him, but he couldn't stand the thought of her staying mad at him.

in y/n's head, he was forgiven. during her time alone, she realised she didn't even give him a chance to explain before locking herself in his room for the rest of the night.

"i'm sorry too," george was slightly taken aback by this, unsure what she was apologising for, "i shouldn't have stormed off like that. not even letting you speak before i disappeared all night. and my parents don't hate you. we can do dinner tomorrow if that's okay with you?"

"that's more than okay. i have my whole day free to spend with you and them. we can do whatever you guys want. i love you."

"i love you. so much. even if you are forgetful."

and george stuck to his promise. safe to say y/n's parents like george more than her.

a/n have this as an 'i'm sorry i haven't posted in a while present' <3

[anonymousmink]

Osha and Qimir (I loved your last one!!!)

Prompt... How about... soulmate mark on your soulmates body. Could be first words, matching mark, soulmates injury on ur soulmates body for example. What kinda soulmark au dealers choice 😅

I'm having flashbacks to ur amazing soul mate fic for reylo Skymarked Souls, so would loooove too see ur take on a soulmate mark with oshamir x

Omg okay this is 100% cheating because I wrote this when the show was airing and never posted it - and also I apologise because it’s based on the exact same scene as my last post - BUT have some first word Soulmate AU! ALSO - thank you for your kind message Anon, I can’t believe anyone remembers those old fics! It really made my day!💜

Ship: Oshamir || Rating: T || Words: 2100ish

Osha’s entire life has been defined by one word.

One incredibly, overwhelmingly, ordinary word.

Hello.

The small greeting, written in a messy, angular hand over the left side of her ribs has changed everything.

At first it’s a blessing, tangible proof that - no matter how much she loves her sister - she’s not Mae. She’s different, they’re different. She may be one of two but they’re not identical in every way, the word is hers and hers alone. It doesn’t matter how mad Mae gets, or how worried her mothers seem, it’s something just for her and she holds onto it - no matter how selfish it sometimes feels.

Then her world burns, she meets the Jedi, and the word becomes a curse.

The day Sol finds out is the third worst in her memory. Sol’s disappointment is seared into her brain, another Padawan tattling on her after they’d shared the showers after a training session. When he’d pulled her aside his expression had been so final - like a failure, another death.

Still, he’d softened the blow - explaining in his softest, most careful voice that the word was the mark of a soul mate bond, a perfect prophecy of her future partner's first interaction with her. It could happen to anyone, Sol told her, force sensitive or not. Her soul was meant to meet with another, to intertwine in a dance older and vaster than the galaxy.

“Why?” she’d whispered around the knife suddenly lodged in her chest.

“People are flawed,” he’d answered so, so patiently, “we don’t always recognise our match - we can be pushed, persuaded, blinded by our own prejudice… the words ensure we do not miss our moment.”

It wasn’t the answer she wanted, or the question she was asking. When she asked ‘why’ she hadn’t meant ‘why do they exist?’ but rather ‘why me? Why now? Why has the universe forsaken me again?”

It felt like a cruel trick, the council always said she couldn’t let go of her attachments and this just proved it.

It wasn’t fair. She’d wanted so much to be her own person, to forge her own path, but it had been snatched away from her again - set fire to by her own skin this time.

Sol had tried to console her, telling her that it wasn’t impossible for her to be a Jedi, that there were others with marks - they were rare but they existed. It just meant she had to work harder.

And she did.

She worked harder, and harder and harder and so damn hard, and it didn’t change a thing.

Here she stands with the fruits of her labor, an out of work Meknek chasing her dead sister through a strange world on the orders of people she’ll never be good enough for.

Osha doesn’t flinch as she walks the streets of Olega through a hail of ‘hello’s, two dozen greetings in a half dozen languages as the street hawkers try and draw her attention towards their goods.

Hellos are a prophecy she no longer believes in, not after she’s heard so many of them. Yord. Jecki. Padawans and masters and mechanics and absolute strangers. She’s drowned in hellos over the years and none of them have changed a goddamn thing, they haven’t kept anyone from leaving.

Her soulmate, whoever the hell they are, has never bothered to show up and she’s long since stopped looking.

Swallowing down her feelings, Osha forces herself to focus through her discontentment, she sees a woman selling scarves at the side of the street and remembers her mission. Mae is alive, the focus of so much of her rage and hatred and love, Mae is alive and Osha has to stop her.

Fumbling with her credits, Osha swaps a handful for a length of dark wool, looping it around her neck in the way her sister has been seen wearing. She straightens her back beneath it, trying to carry herself like she imagines Mae would as she eyes up her destination.

She can do this, even if she’s not a Jedi anymore she can still do her best to save them. For Sol and his endless hope, for Kelnecca and his kindness to her, for Indara and Torbin who saved her even though she couldn’t save them.

Squeezing her hands tightly at her sides she strides towards the apothecary, the noise of the street fading as she ducks between the blast doors.

The shop is small, cluttered, the air heavy with a mix of herbs and extracts, sweet and earthy and almost nostalgic. The man she’s here to interrogate is slumped against the wall behind the counter, he’s youngish and scruffy looking with magnifying lenses covering half his face and a pale bloom cupped in his hand.

Clearing her throat she begins her ruse, “Hello?”

The stranger glances up with a smile and a wave, a brief noise of surprise followed by a cheery, “Hello..”

His voice is pleasant if unremarkable, and the fact he’s just repeated her word only makes her heart jump for a single beat, and only because she was just thinking about it. If anything it reminds her just how stupid the Force was to give her ‘Hello’ in the first place, the words are supposed to ensure she doesn’t miss her fated match and yet, for all the dozens upon dozens of times she’s been given that first hello, nothing ever changes.

He glances back at the plant again and she determines this particular stranger isn’t any different, the disappointment now a mild throb rather than the aching pain it had been a few years ago. He isn’t a good candidate anyway, not if he’s supplying poison to her murderous sister.

“Hi,” she says after an awkward pause where she tries to find her footing, the mission had sounded so simple when Jecki suggested it but now she’s here, sweating under the coarse wool of her new cloak, she can’t seem to wrap her tongue around the right words.

How does one successfully pretend to be the Jedi-killing assassin twin they’ve believed to be dead for 16 years?

“Hi?” he repeats, almost a question as his attention fixes on the flower again for a long moment before, with a blink and a shake of his head, he perks up, “hi!”

Kicking away from the wall he pulls the goggles off, casting the plant aside as he fixes her properly with his attention at last.

—-

The word has been there as long as he remembers, too long perhaps, a simple thing in a delicate, sloping hand. It is his only constant, the only thing that remains even as he changes names and identities like other people change clothes. It is his secret, his comfort, a tether to the world when all else fails and the universe threatens to crush in on him completely.

Hello.

A greeting, a start, a reminder that - no matter how long it feels like he’s waited - it won’t be forever. His match is promised, destined, waiting for him somewhere out there in the reaches of space and time. It doesn’t matter how many would-be pupils fail him, he knows she won’t.

His perfect partner.

His soul mate.

Her.

“Hello.”

It takes all his years of training to keep his eyes on the bud in his hands and his body where it stands, going through the motions of the charade even as something inside of him swells. Hundreds of people have said it to him before, maybe thousands in his too-long life, but not like this, not like she does.

The woman’s voice forms the slants and shapes of the handwriting over his heart perfectly, her presence filling his head like the smell of ozone after the rain. And, when he finally allows himself to look at her properly, fully, he finds it impossible to look away.

She’s magnificent.

She looks like Mae, structurally at least, but she’s not her, there could never be any mistaking that. She wears her face in a completely different way, all wide eyes and expressive lips, and the Force… it moves around her like nothing he’s ever seen before. It’s like a shoal of fish, a mass of living, breathing energy that twists and turns and follows her every breath. It’s as drawn to her as he is.

“You alright?” He makes himself ask, placing the goggles aside with a silly flourish and a distracted fumble, his hands are unforgivably clumsy, suddenly out of sync with the rest of him as he rounds the counter, “you’re back so early?”

Not-Mae’s throat moves as she swallows. Osha, his mind supplies to him as he follows the movement, this is Osha, the dead twin… only, not so dead it seems. Very much alive in fact. Thank the stars.

“I wanted to see you,” she says, her chin held up imperiously even as something in her eyes wavers.

I wanted to see you too, he thinks with a pang of yearning so deep it makes his bones ache, for so very very long…

Outwardly however he only allows a fraction of his surprise to register on his face, pointing to himself in confusion, “see me? Oh…”

His eyes dance over her again, thinking how easy it would be to snatch her away right here and now. A twist of his powers, a few shortcuts, and they could be out of the city before anyone even realized, somewhere far away where they can do this properly. Like they were supposed to.

He doesn’t of course, not just because she doesn’t seem to have realized the importance of their meeting yet, but also because there is the looming presence of the Jedi she’s brought with her waiting in the wings. They’re somewhere just beyond the perimeter of the shop and, he’s pretty sure, they’re listening. Which is really very annoying.

Still, eons have passed in the time he’s waited to meet her, he’s confident he can keep himself together for a little longer. Just a little though. Just long enough to play this game out to its conclusion then… well, then the galaxy is their oyster.

“Uh Mae…” the name sounds wrong as he says it but he reads the flicker of pride in her eyes just the same, so pleased with herself for her little deception, “are you ok? Did the poison work? Wait…”

He tilts his head, tasting his teeth with his tongue as he approaches again, voice dropping as he feels her excitement warring with her anxiety. Such a beautiful contradiction, “you killed Torbin without the poison… he will be so pleased.”

And he is pleased. So very pleased. He’s so close to her now they’re sharing oxygen, his eyes flickering over her again without his permission - wondering where beneath her layers his handwriting sits, is it over her heart? Her arms? Her stomach? Her thighs? His fingers flex, palms itching with the urge to touch her, to search it out himself right here and now.

Patience, he snaps at himself as he finds her eyes again, deep, true brown and fixed on him,

where they belong. Where she belongs.

“No, I used it,” she says, her outward confidence barely masking the waver in her emotions, how uncertain she’s become as he prowls towards her, crowding her space, “I just… wanted to thank you.”

He has to stop himself from imaging all the ways she might choose to thank him, she’s still pretending after all. Pretending in a way that makes it clear she hasn’t seen her sister in a very long time, Mae is many things - stubborn, stoic, fierce, strong, fickle - but grateful is not one of them. Desirable isn’t either, at least not to him, Osha however…

He bites his lip, moving closer before he can stop himself as he draws the charade to an end at last.

“You look exactly like her,” it’s almost a lie, for all their cosmetic similarities Osha is a different creature entirely, his eyes feasting on her without restraint as he presses into her space.

For a moment she lets him, lets him crowd her, lets him breathe her, her eyes wide as he considers if she’ll let him kiss her too, let him…

She jerks back, breaking the spell as she raises her blaster towards him and the Jedi flood in, leaving him to fall back into his bumbling persona. He raises his hands, all clumsy innocence as he picks up the game again, plays his moves like he had always planned, but his eyes never leave her - not for long anyway.

Everything has changed now.

[theheartsickdevil]

It is important to let go

{Ronin x reader that can't let go of their groomer}

Tw's: grooming, kind of my personal experience, implied murder

A/n: I couldn't finish this in one sitting lmao. If you're the person who requested the high school au I'm sorry but you've got to wait a little because I don't really want to think about school rn. In this fic there are some actual messages that we exchanged. If you or your friends are being groomed, please, I beg you to reach for help because these are the results. Please remember that grooming can also be your best friend's 24 years old boyfriend who's with a 16 years old. Also I'm sorry if this fic is shorter than the others lmao

*.• ☆ •.*

"Hey, sorry to disturb you, but since I did apologize for the way I blocked you so randomly, now I want an apology too. Why? Well maybe because of you and the fact that you kept trying to ""apologize"" for what you did using different numbers, I got so stressed I almost killed myself.

And about everything else, whether you did it “ironically” or just forgot about it, just know that it really hurt me back then. I can laugh about it now, but at the time, it seriously messed me up. I still remember crying near my parents, and it wasn’t just because of you, believe me, you weren’t the only one "who was hurt".

That said, the only thing I’m asking for is an apology for what happened between us. And since I was able to apologize- even though I was the acrual victim, I think you can take a moment to reflect and say sorry too.

I was 12 years old, almost 13. Now I'm literally the age YOU. were when this all happened. Don’t forget that."

You hit send. You couldn't believe it. After years you finally had the courage of asking him to apologize. But was it actually worth it? Maybe not.. guilt was literally eating you out, and before you could've hit the delete button, too late. He already readed that.

"Tf"

Was the only answer

Y/n: "please try to understand my feelings, just this once.."

"Yeah yeah I'm sorry I hurt you it hurts me seeing you like this I hope we're fine now"

Y/n: "I'm glad you apologised"

You felt like shit. What the hell was actually happening, why did you do this to yourself? This wouldn't have happened if you didn't accept that friend request last week, and now there you are, many years later, still feeling bad for this bastard. Tears started rolling on your cheeks as you got up and plopped down on your bed, sobbing as you hugged the plushie Ronin gifted you a few weeks ago for your birthday. That's when you heard someone calling you on your pc, and guess what? It was your amazing boyfriend Ronin. You immediately got up and waked back to the desk and sat down on your gaming chair before accepting the call. Before you could even say 'hi', Ronin hit you with a

"What are those tears on your cheeks for?"

In a kind of worried yet still teasing tone. You just sighed as you tried to explain what happened, and you heard Ronin take a deep sigh.

"Can you give me their @?"

"Why? What do you wanna do?.. If you try to say something about me he's gonna come for me.. he's going to.. ruin me.."

"If he dares to do something like that he's going to have a taste of my crowbar."

He said, in a more stern tone, you knew he was pissed, but he wasn't pissed with you, he was pissed with that bastard. How could he ask a 12 year old to touch themselves with him on vc and force them to watch anime games porn? That was absolutely disgusting. Ronin wanted to fucking ruin him. He was really sad he couldn't have helped you before.

"..fine, but don't try anything too extreme he's.. kinda chill now.."

"Darling let me take care of it, do you trust me?"

"Yes, of course I trust you."

After that, Ronin hung up the call. He looked more than pissed.. you've never seen him like that..

After some days, you noticed your groomer didn't upload or text you anything.. yet he was online and he read all your messages. It was strange.. you lowkey felt like something was off. Before you could send him another message, you felt a knock on your room's window. It was Ronin, and for the first time in ages he didn't come all bloody. You closed the chat and went to open the window.

"Missed me?"

"Mhhmm.. I was just about to call you.."

"Well good thing I'm here now"

He said, as he climbed in and sat on your bed. Your room was messy as fuck but he didn't mind, it was not like his room was better anyway. You straddled him and hugged him, as you laid your head on his chest.

"I made sure that bastard learnt his lesson.. and don't worry darling, you're safe now.."

You remained a little speechless as he said that.. you were happy he wasn't going to bother you no more but at the same time you were kinda sad.. you just nodded as a "thank you" and then you let yourself drown in his embrace.. you were safe.. he was finally gone from your life..

[battlemaiden13]

You just answered so many asks so I am so sorry

Been thinking about how things could go and the way that S/O could talk to Carbine after he finds out about them hiding their chronic illnesses.

For angst purposes let’s imagine there was lots of crying from S/O at first, especially as Carbine continues to remain distant and ignore their calls and messages. Definitely fearing the worst.

But eventually get kind of mad, too. And that’s when they go into the office.

“Do you have any kind of idea what sort of message you’re sending me, Sans?” Yes we’re breaking out his real name to REALLY make sure he’s paying attention. “I know it was wrong of me to hide something so important from you, but that makes it even worse that you’ve been ignoring me since finding out.”

They go on to explain how hard it is for chronically ill humans to date because it’s often a dealbreaker for other humans, and how scared and worried they’ve been that maybe Carbine is reconsidering their relationship but they don’t know for sure because he won’t talk to them.

At this point imagine they’ve started crying again because yes angst.

They explain that they love Carbine more than anything and that they want this to work. They promise to be more open about everything, but also say that he needs to be more open, as well.

“I love you. I want you to come home with me. Let’s get a bunch of takeout for dinner, and cuddle while we talk everything out until we both fall asleep. Please?”

He is so riddled with guilt at first that he seriously considers going back to work to hide from it again but that's the whole problem. He stops you before you even go home. He's shaking and he doesn't know if he's going to be able to express himself the right way so you understand.

He can't look at you as he apologises, as he desperately tries to explain why he feels the need to work and that he never meant to make you feel like he was abandoning you. He adores you he was trying to do this for you but he understands how stupid that was. He will do whatever you want to make up for it for way longer than is actually necessary.

When you get home with you takeout to talk he hands you a folder he had been creating full of treatments, resources, information and more as he tries to explain he had been looking into your illness trying to find anything that will make your life easier. He has some pretty top doctors in that file ready to see you if you ever wanted. He also promises never to shut you out like that again and the two of you start communicating more frequently. Carbine even makes it a priority to start coming home at a reasonable time to spend it with you, but this seems to be upsetting Rifle.

[bm571158]

Free Now LN4 (Part 45)

Lando was pacing back and forth anxiously when Carlos eventually phoned him back. He'd called him about a hundred times and left a similar number of messages, his friend taking an incredibly irritating amount of time to answer him.

"Jesus, where's the fire?" Carlos asked as Lando answered the call. "You've called me like five million times."

"Yeah because you don't answer your fucking phone!" Lando retorted. "Did you not take the hint that maybe I was trying to get hold of you?"

"Alright, well you've got me now. What's wrong?" Carlos asked, deciding to just move on and find out what Lando's problem actually was. "Are you going to tell me you missed your flight and want to come with me?"

"No. I'm at the airport now, just waiting for Lottie." Lando told him. "I'm calling because you posted all those photos of your trip last week on Instagram."

"Yeah... and?" Carlos asked.

"Did you actually look at the fucking background of some of the photos before you posted them?" Lando asked.

"What are you talking about?" Carlos asked, not understanding the question.

"Mate, look in the background of that fucking photo of you on the tennis court." Lando cried.

There was some silence and a lot of mumbling in spanish as Carlos fiddled around and tried to get the photo up. "I don't know what you're so... oh... oh... I can delete it."

"It's a bit fucking late for that mate." Lando groaned. "It's quite literally everywhere."

What Carlos hadn't noticed when he'd posted the photo Rebecca had snapped of him on the tennis court was that visible in the corner of the shot were Lando and Lottie. It wasn't a bad photo, it could've been a lot worse, but the two of them were very clearly kissing, Lando's hands planted firmly on the curve of her ass, her arms looped around his neck.

He could remember the moment as if it was yesterday, the two of them celebrating having won their rather chaotic tennis match against Carlos and Rebecca. The sun had been shining, the two of them absolutely carefree and relaxed. It was a wonderful memory, but not one that he'd expected to end up in the background of an Instagram post.

Carlos may not have noticed it, but the fans on the internet had spotted it instantly. Lando being made aware of it as he'd been tagged in a million different posts all speculating about whether or not it meant that him and Lottie were back together.

"I am so, so sorry mate." Carlos apologised again. "I really didn't notice, I promise. I should've got Rebecca to check it before I posted it. She always knows better. I'm so sorry."

"It can't be helped now." Lando sighed, his intial panic starting to subside. "I suppose everyone was going to find out at the weekend anyway."

"Has Lottie seen it?" Carlos asked.

"She's on the flight over." Lando explained. "I'm meeting her and then we are flying over to vegas together."

"Tell her I'm really sorry?" Carlos asked. "I honestly didn't mean to."

"I know, I'm sorry. I just got a bit stressed when I saw it." Lando admitted. "Sorry for yelling at you."

"It's okay, I'll see you in Vegas?" Carlos offered.

"Yeah, see you there." Lando agreed.

Lottie arrived not long after, dragging the enormous suitcase that Flo had packed full of the outfits she'd insisted Lottie had to purchase, a spring in her step at the thought of getting to see Lando again. It had only been a few days, but she'd really missed him even in that short time.

He was sat in the airport lounge waiting for her, and his face lit up as she walked in, jumping out of his seat and rushing  over to hug her so tightly in almost knocked all the air out of her.

"Hey." She laughed, giving him a quick kiss.

"Hey." He grinned back at her. "Wow, what is in this suitcase?!" He asked, surprised by how heavy it was as he went to pull it along for her.

"Your sister packed that. I think there are enough outfit options in there to last about six months." Lottie joked. "She was very insistent that I needed to make sure that I had options. I got fed up of trying to argue with her in the end. It was just easier to go along with it and let her."

"It always is with Flo." Lando laughed. "So... I have to tell you something."

Lottie looked at him curiously. "Why are you looking at me like that? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong... it's just... well, Carlos may have accidentally outed us online." Lando confessed. "He said to tell you he's really, really sorry."

"What are you talking about?" Lottie asked.

"He posted some photos of his trip and we're in the background of one of them." Lando explained. "He didn't notice, but the internet spotted it instantly. If it helps, I think he feels really bad about it."

"Show me?" Lottie asked, because she hadn't seen it and couldn't picture how bad it was likely to be.

Lando reluctantly pulled his phone out of his pocket, scrolling past the thousand apologetic messages that Carlos had sent, to pull the photo up. Lottie took the phone from him, zooming in on the image and studying it closely for a moment.

"That's it?" She asked.

He couldn't hide the surprise on his face. "Yeah." He nodded. "I know it's not the worst, it's just... it was supposed to be a nice private weekend away. I'm sorry."

"Lando, it's fine." She reassured him. "I'm pretty sure people were going to notice when I showed up with you this weekend anyway, maybe it will have all died down a bit by the time we get to the weekend now it's out there."

"You're sure you're okay with this?" Lando asked, eyes searching her face for any kind of indication that she wasn't as okay as she was trying to make out.

"I'm fine, I promise." She reassured him. "Please, tell Carlos it's fine. I know he didn't do it on purpose and it's really not the end of the world."

"He'll be relieved. I think he was worried that one of us might kill him." Lando joked.

"It's fine." Lottie repeated. "I know people are going to take photos and stuff, there's going to be stuff online. I just need to not look at it and pretend it's not happening. Then I don't need to get wrapped up in what they all think, as long as we're happy it doesn't matter."

"Look at you." Lando grinned. "I'm impressed."

"I'm turning over a new leaf." She joked.

It didn't take long before the two of them boarded the flight, the long journey out to vegas stretching ahead of them. Lando had been asleep almost instantly once he sat down, and Lottie didn't think she'd ever been quite so jealous of his ability to sleep in seemingly any place, any time.

Lottie found herself completely unable to sleep though, the hours seeming to drag by as the plane slowly but surely made its way over the Atlantic. A couple of times she'd got her phone out, tempted to go and look online to see what people were saying about the photos that Carlos had posted but she stopped herself. She needed to just let it go, she couldn't go back down that particular rabbit hole again.

All that mattered that she was there to support Lando, and she wanted to make sure that she was there for him no matter what. He hadn't said it, but she knew he was nervous for the weekend that lay ahead. The team had been piling the pressure on him, and with so few races left and behind on the points it really was going to be all or nothing for him.

He seemed to be coping with it surprisingly well though. A few months ago being put under that kind of pressure to perform would have sent him completely insane. This time though, he seemed to be well aware of what he needed to do, but remaining focused on the task ahead. He hadn't allowed the speculation online to get to him. It was something Lottie reminded herself that she needed to make sure that she did too.

The opinions of the outside world didn't matter, not as long as the two of them were happy.

She must have fallen asleep somewhere along the line, because before she knew it the plane had touched down in Vegas and Lando was shaking her awake as it was time for them to get off the plane.

"Come on." He held his hand out to help her up. "Let's get back to the hotel and get some sleep."

"You can't seriously be tired. You've just slept for like fourteen hours." Lottie laughed, getting to her feet.

Lando laughed. "You know me. I'll sleep at any opportunity."

"I've never been to vegas before." Lottie told him. "Is there some time for sight seeing in this nap schedule of yours?"

"I think we can make time." He agreed, the two of them heading for the door to get off the plane, stopping to say a quick thank you to the crew on their way out.

"Good." Lottie smiled.

"I'm really, really glad you decided to come with me." Lando told her as the two of them made their way down the steps and over to the waiting car to take them to the terminal. "It really hasn't been the same without you beside me."

****

Lottie had stared out of the window of the car in quiet amazement as they were driven down the strip to the hotel that the team had booked for the weekend. "This place is insane." She whispered, the whole place seeming so much bigger and brighter through her own eyes than it had ever looked on the tv.

"Maybe we can come back another time when I've got a bit more time to explore?" Lando suggested. "I'm going to have a whole load of time in the off season. We could go anywhere, do anything."

"Really?" Lottie asked him, turning to look back him for a minute.

"Really." Lando confirmed. "I could use a holiday, it'll be nice. We can spend some time together and whichever way this all goes... I'll finally be able to relax."

"We might be celebrating." Lottie pointed out. "You know I think we will be."

"You might have to come to the FIA awards with me if I do." Lando joked. "I'm not sure I can be trusted to go on my own. Someone's gotta make sure I don't make an absolute fool out of myself or fall asleep in the audience."

"I can do that." She laughed. "I want to be there to see you get your trophy."

"I wish I was as sure as you are that it's going to go my way." Lando admitted. "I'm worried about it. There's so much riding on a good result this weekend. If I fuck it up then it's game over. It needs to be an absolutely perfect weekend."

"You're more than capable." Lottie reminded him as the car finally turned off and pulled up outside the hotel that they were staying in. "I know you don't believe any of us when we say it, but you really are. You more than deserve that trophy, whatever happens this weekend."

He climbed out of the car as it cane to a stop without answering her, and for a horrible moment she was convinced that she'd just said the wrong thing, but he reappeared on her side of the car to open the door with a smile on his face.

"Every time I think I couldn't love you anymore..." he mumbled, giving her a quick kiss before stepping back so she had room to get out of the car.

There was a small group of fans outside the front entrance of the hotel, waiting hopefully on the off chance that they might catch him arriving, and as the two of them walked towards the door with Lando's arm wrapped around her waist Lottie could feel all the eyes and cameras on the two of them.

"You okay if I stop for a sec?" Lando asked quietly as they approached.

"Sure." Lottie nodded. "I'll go inside and get the room key."

He nodded in agreement, hand sliding off her waist as he diverted off in the direction of the waiting fans and left Lottie to make her way into the hotel lobby. She glanced back over her shoulder with a smile on her face as she watched him walk over and start chatting to people, signing things and taking photos with them for a few minutes before he made his way inside to join her. It was a million miles away from how he'd been hiding from the fans at the start of the season.

"Sorry about that." He said, joining the as she stood waiting for the elevator. His hand automatically sliding around her waist again.

"Don't apologise." She said softly. "It's nice to see you out there with them again."

"It doesn't feel so scary anymore." He admitted, the two of them stepping into the elevator as Lottie hit the button that would take them up to their floor. "I don't know what it is... it just feels better."

"I'm glad." She smiled, giving him a quick kiss as the elevator began to make its way up to the top of the hotel. They were only a couple of floors from the top and she was beyond excited to see the view from that high up.

He pointed her in the right direction of the room as she struggled with the hotels slightly confusing numbering system, having stayed there plenty of times preciously and knowing his way around. When the reached the room and opened the door Lottie let out a little squeal of excitement. The room was beautiful, the big floor to ceiling windows that looked out over the city just what she'd been hoping for.

"This place is amazing." She grinned, turning around to find that Lando had already kicked his shoes off and flopped down dramatically in the middle of the huge bed that filled the centre of the room. "You're seriously going to take another nap?" She laughed.

"Well... you could come over here and join me?" He suggested, sitting up and looking at her with that smirk on his face that she just knew only meant one thing. "I can think of things we could be doing other than sleeping?"

"Oh really now?" She laughed quietly, but as she said it she turned and started walking towards him, as if his words had some kind of magnetic pull to them. She never could say no to him, and quite frankly couldn't see why she would ever want to, something he more than knew from the smug look on his face as she crawled into bed with him.  "What exactly did you have in mind?"

"Well." He mumbled, leaning into kiss her. "I thought we'd start with this..." his hands trailed up her body as his lips met hers.

"Oh... and then?" Lottie asked.

"And then..." he murmured, rolling so he was hovering above her, hands sliding under her shirt and caressing the smooth skin of her waist. "I show you just how much I love you."

[proshippers-against-censorship]

Long ask incoming so i really apologise for that lol.

in my honest opinion yaelokre is going about this incredibly wrong. but the way people have been talking about not only their characters (to be clear im not saying this because of "blah blah they're children" fake morality stuff or whatever lmao im a proshipper myself—but one of the main characters is quite literally meant to represent/be keath themself) but about them themself (sending them rape threats, threatening to draw them having sex with their characters?? I've seen a lot on the internet these past couple days, especially in proship spaces, which is so upsetting to me because I had so much more faith in our community 😭)... All this is incredibly disgusting to watch. and disheartening.

Are they going about this incredibly irresponsibly? Yes! Is it naive for them to expect that no rule 34 is created whatsoever? Yeah, probably! But they did explicitly say they dont want the characters directly representing their own childhood (including one who's basically their own persona) sexualised, much less have it sent directly to them (which it was—that's how we even got to this point, anyway) and going ahead and mocking this boundary directly, and then encouraging people to do it out of spite feels... off to me. dunno. (To be clear i think, once again, their actions are incredibly dumb and irresponsible. They're not justified in doing any of that and im not trying to say they are lol.)

(And, while we're here, there's a difference between gigantic heavily funded capitalist projects like disney, and Some Guy working on one deeply personal thing all by themself for free. Do whatever you want with like. Thousand dollar franchises with no specific human faces behind them, but it feels so weird to tear into someone's passion project theyre making out of love for free. Idk where else in my message this point fits so I'm leaving it here.)

I can't help but be reminded of antis tearing into my own work to "fix" it simply because i was a proshipper. On paper people can do whatever they want with fiction, can't they? Of course—but taking a story i made to cope with my trauma and spitefully twisting it to their own wants for no reason other than because I was a proshipper is still harrassment, still done with malice, and—proship/anti stuff removed—an objectively fucked up and mean fucking thing to do. Artists making shit for free do not owe you anything and that includes not owing you their comfortability with people interacting with their personal projects they are sharing with others (for free!! When they don't have to!!!) in certain ways. The same way they also don't owe you being comfortable with unprompted criticism and whatever else.

The "fiction is fiction" argument doesn't hold up when it starts to hurt real people. They aren't a bad person simply for not wanting their personal project sexualised (which—you could argue "that's not the problem, the problem is how theyre going about handling it it," which i agree with; but there are several posts on this very blog and countless others mocking them entirely for simply wanting their work not sexualised, and several posts encouraging others to make sexual content of their characters out of spite. Im not saying it's sexual harrassment but god it does start to feel like it's somewhere in that realm.) This isn't the first time anything like this has happened in their community, ive been here since the beginning, and in the beginning they were so unbelievably calm and polite about their boundaries and then people started directly dming them nsfw and things spiraled and here we are.

I've used the pottery analogy to explain this before—imagine someone puts a ceramic sculpture down on a table. It belongs to them, and they're very clearly proud of it. You could push it off the table and break it if it makes you happy, you won't even face any real consequences if you do. They'll just be really upset, rightfully so—it's their thing that they physically made. Maybe they even made it as a coping mechanism, only they know for sure. And they ask you to handle it gently if you decide pick it up. There's a billion things you theoretically could do, having now been made aware of this clear boundary, but only two are right—either handling it gently, or simply not picking it up in the first place.

You're a shitty person if you push it off the table. Using excuses like "there are lots of people in this room, someone was going to decide to break it eventually" doesn't suddenly absolve you morally because you are a sentient being, not a mindless robot slaving to statistics. Maybe statistically it was going to get broken eventually, it still doesn't make it right because you chose to break it yourself, directly going against what they asked you to do when handling their property, simply because it made you happy. I know full well you would not purposely damage or otherwise ignore clear boundaries or guidelines when it comes to someone's physical shit in real life. The concept of having boundaries about your own things that you made and own is not new and having to follow others' boundaries is not you being oppressed it's just being a decent human being.

Fictional characters' feelings don't matter more than real peoples'. But your own real person feelings of Mild Disappointment at not being to make porn for something you (evidently) don't even like that much ALSO don't matter more than the creator's massive upset and discomfort at direct representations of them (real person!!!) being sexualised.

TL;DR: yeah it's stupid of them to try to Anne Rice this whole situation. And yes they deserve to be called out for it and face the consequences for their actions. But let's... not treat them like it's so bafflingly unreasonable and evil of them for simply not wanting people to sexualise characters who are meant to be a direct representation of them (real person!!!!) as a child and let's EXTRA not break their boundaries even further. Their actions are stupid, yes. But their desires are like. A perfectly normal thing to want, if a little naive. harrassment is still harrassment. Being spiteful and vicious isn't suddenly okay when you're on the "right side" with the Right Opinions doing it. Being anti-harrassment doesn't only apply to people you like.

This ask isn't meant to come off as hostile or mean or anything so I sincerely apologise if it does. Wishing you the best. I also apologise if anything in this ask reads wrong it's late at night and im recovering from a concussion lol.

Fair enough.

I'm team 'break rules, not boundaries'.

By all means, show their Anne Rice approach is stupid by creating nsfw and properly tagging it and posting it to proper spaces. Fill R34 with that. Create nsfw fanworks on AO3 with proper tags. Go ham. But they clearly don't want to see it, so don't send it to them.

You wouldn't send porn of characters to any other creator without them asking. And you shouldn't be sending rape threats either. That's fucked up.

There's a difference between acting out of spite and acting out of malice, and I won't dispute the fact that some people are taking things quite far and doing the latter.

You can say a rule is dumb without taking steps to directly harm.

[lizardthelizard]

It was super fun to read that whole OUaT-missing-friend-wedding thing again. Thanks for digging it up. But something must be really wrong, because it said Feb 2023 and that would be 2 years ago according to math. Impossible. Also re-reading I do think August helping human versions of the Bug's Life characters would be hilarious. a) He can throw in that he is friends with a cricket. B) It's a whole circus, he will fit in.

You know, the second I saw that I had a message in my inbox I had a feeling it might be you!

Anyway, I saw this last night but I needed time to ruminate on things and I'm glad I did because I cannot stop laughing about the possibilities here.

So, here are my most ridiculous thoughts on the matter under the cut:

Let's make August already running a bit late for the wedding for some innocuous reason. Marco and Archie have left nice and early (since Archie is officiating the wedding after all) and August has to go and pick up his suit jacket from the dry cleaners/some other small but vital reason, and so he won't be arriving with his father. He's not late late, but he is slightly off track now. And he's gonna ride his motorbike back home, get changed, and walk to the venue after he's sorted things.

This is where things start to go wrong.

Since the town is singing and dancing (I know that the town weren't actually cursed to sing in the present day content like they were during the flashbacks, but since we get them all singing at the wedding, I'm still gonna headcanon that the rest of the town were also singing completely unprompted around that time) I'm picturing half of Storybrooke like that one specific song from Buffy, and August arriving on the scene like Robert from Enchanted because he's too late to the song to join in and is just generally confused as to why everyone is singing and dancing. And because everyone is too busy singing and dancing he can't even get done what he needs to get done.

Eventually he gets his suit jacket or whatever he went there for but he's already had to walk through three different musical numbers in order to do so. This is possibly also where the mention of him being covered in glitter comes from.

He hops back onto his bike and is still kind-of-mostly-on-time for the wedding when all of a sudden a vehicle pulls out in front of him and he swerves and (very gently) crashes his bike.

As it transpires, the vehicle was actually the travelling circus of human!bugs-life bugs. Flik has been realm jumping in order to find 'warriors' to help fight Hopper and co. back in his own realm. (Don't ask me how he travelled to Storybrooke, I don't know, but) they've only just arrived and now they'll need a magic bean or something in order to get back home.

Flik rushes out of the truck to apologise and check up on August. August is surprisingly okay. His bike isn't looking too good though.

Also, speaking of warriors, me and a couple of friends were trying to come up with characters that August could interact with during his little B plot adventure, and two of the suggestions were Mulan and Ruby (because, hey! why not bring them back to Storybrooke?) So I'm here to suggest the possibility of Ruby, Dorothy and Mulan (who has stuck around as a kind of third-wheeling bodyguard during their time in Oz) all running into Flik and the gang during their own adventure. None of them knew that they would end up in Storybrooke, but, when Ruby steps out and away from the travelling circus, she's obviously elated to see that 1) they're back in Storybrooke and 2) that August is right there.

August spots her and walks across to her. He's puzzled but there's a growing smile on his face. "Ruby?" They talk a bit. Ruby can introduce Dorothy as well as Mulan. He then explains that he'd love to stick around but that he has a wedding to get to (he's not even sure he'll have time to get changed at this point or else he'll miss it completely) and, after confessing that it is in fact Emma's wedding, Ruby obviously wants to go too and they all arrive with Flik and the other 'bugs' at the circus.

(side note: I'm living in an AU where the Black Fairy's curse didn't arrive the SECOND the song on the roof had finished, which allows them time to arrive at the wedding late and actually interact with Emma and the others. Emma is mostly just relieved to see August show up in one piece, even if he is still covered in glitter and a couple of scrapes from the bike crash) and Snow is overjoyed to see Ruby show up out of the blue (even if the curse is still about to hit the town)).

That's all I've got for now but anyone and everyone is welcome to throw their own ideas/tweak my ramblings if they so desire~

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Love Game 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your fiance suggests incorporating roleplay in the bedroom to keep the spark alive, but playing pretend turns out to be all too real.

Characters: Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen

Note: I did this because I could.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

'You ready?' 

A tingle accompanies the text. Your stomach tosses and turns at the thought. You think you're ready. As ready as you can be. It's all so new to you. 

You hover your finger over the automated reply suggested by the OS. You tap on 'yes', too shaky to type it yourself. You're not scared, just nervous. 

When Andy first brought up the idea, you laughed. It was so absurd. Silly really. 

You remember how the look he gave you was like hands on your throat. The hurt with an edge of agitation strangled away your laughter. You apologised and asked him if you heard him right. Then he explained and it made sense. Kind of. 

'If we're going to get married, we need to keep the flame alive,' your fiance said as you stirred the contents of a pan with a spatula. 'Trust me, I know. A dead bedroom can kill everything else.' 

You frown at the memory. You hate when he mentions his first wife. He's engaged to you now. You're not her. Besides, things are pretty good. That's why you laughed. There was nothing bland to spice up. At least, you hadn't thought so. 

'You know the plan?' He texts. Always thorough, if not persistent. 

'I think' you type as you squeeze your phone tighter then think better of the reply. You backspace. Remember the plan. 'Yes, sir.' 

You blow out between your lip and put the phone on the counter. You look in the mirror and pick up the bottle of moisturizer, smearing it over your face. Half the day you've spent prepping yourself. Everything has to be perfect. Andy is always certain of that. 

You snap the cap shut and peruse the rest of the basket. He thought of everything. New soaps, wax, perfume, and all sorts of goodies. You didn't need it all but he insisted. 

Everything about Andy Barber is pristine and tidy. His house not least of his carefully curated existence. So it is that you often feel as if you don't quite fit it, even when he tells you the opposite. 

Your phone vibes and you look down at the screen as the notification flashes, 'good girl.' 

Your lashes bat and you giggle thinly. You've never done anything like this. You struggle to get a precise grip on the tweezers and have to still your hand with the other. This is wild! 

You rub your thighs together and strike hotter the flame of your anticipation. As much as the whole thing has you uncertain, it has you alight. You steady yourself and lean into the mirror, just a few stray hairs. It shouldn't matter, it'll be dark, right? 

Your phone goes again. You pull back and glance down. You trade the tweezers for the cell and press your lips together. 

'Did you find your surprise?' 

You look up and search your expression. Surprise? You lower your brow and peer around the bathroom. There's more? 

'Bedroom' his next message comes bluntly. 

You chew your lip and leave the mirror behind. You go down to the main bedroom and ease through the door. The room still smells of his cologne. The whole place is drenched in him, meanwhile most people wouldn't guess at a glance that you lived there too. 

You see it on the bed. White silk and lace. The lingerie is sheer enough that you may as well forego it. You near and touch the scalloped hem. You know it must be expensive, funny how so little fabric can be worth so much. 

You step back and take a picture. You send it to Andy and wait, your thumb between your teeth. He replies. 

'Put it on.' 

His blunt orders add to the thrum coursing through you already. It seems he's already in character. You need to get yourself together and do your part. 

'Yes, sir.' 

You set the phone on the corner of the mattress and trade your bathroom for the lingerie. The thong, while high-waisted has you on full display. Not ass, no crotch, just lace straps that trim your thighs and bottom. The top is an open teddy with cups that do nothing to censor your pert nipples. Just wearing it sends a thrill through you. 

You take the phone and return to the bathroom. You use the full-length mirror to frame your reflection with the lens. You snap a few pics and sift through for the best one. You hesitate before you tap the little arrow. You're a mess of paranoia and lust; you shouldn't send photos like this and yet you can't help yourself. 

You wait for his reply. Wait and wait and wait. You have to stop yourself from staring at the phone, knowing that your hyperfocus will only slow time. You cross to the counter and place the phone near the edge. 

Your attention is drawn to the sheer fabric acrosd your chest. You can't suppress the moan that leaks from you. You can feel how excited you already are but your eagerness might just get in the way of the whole thing. 

You sigh and the buzz draws you back from your anxiety. You read the message, almost disappointed. 

'Midnight.' 

That's it. That's all he has to say. Was the pic not good enough? Is this part of the roleplay? You don't know. 

As ever, Andy has you guessing at what he really wants. Hopefully this time, you get it right. 

💕

10:47pm. You’re wired. You’re trying to settle down. You have freshly laundered bedding and a glass of wine; all the perfect ingredients to lull you to sleep. That’s all you need to do. Fall asleep. 

Yet knowing what’s coming won’t let your mind stop. Ugh, your heart is racing again. You need to finish the wine. You push yourself up and have another gulp. You lay in the glow of your phone, a Get Ready With Me playing on low volume. Usually this all works. 

Not tonight. You’re too buzzy. Too frazzled. Too eager! 

You empty the glass and lay back down. You were generous, filling the wide body of the glass to the halfway point. At least two regular glasses worth.  

Your head meets the pillow and you start to feel it. The acidic burn spreads through your veins and you sink into the soft sheets. You turn your head to watch the small screen of your phone, vision slowly hazing as the contoured woman applies her lip liner expertly. 

Your eyelids cling and start to itch. Your heady is swishy, your tummy too, and your limbs weaken. It’s working. You try not to think too much about it, not wanting to counteract the alcohol with your self-awareness. 

You roll onto your side and drift into a half-conscious daze. Your brain swirls and your blood burns hot. Your breathing slows and piques only when your rouse, glancing at your phone as a new video plays. The time stamps into your vision; 11:25. 

You curl your shoulders inward, more tired than anxious now, and slip back into your tipsy stupour. The screen is just a glow on the other side of your eyelids and the audio a scratch in your ears. It fades beneath the even ebb and flow of your quiet snores. 

As the light fades out and the sound dwindles to nothing but the still of night, you wake again. Your eyes open to the darkness. You’re alone. Confused. 

You feel around on the bed for your phone. It must have timed out or the battery died. You don’t find it. Instead, your wrist is trapped in a strong grip and dragged away from the duvet. You gasp and remember what’s going on. It’s starting. He’s there. 

“Ah, ah,” comes the grizzled tut as your other arm is seized and your hands are brought together above your head. 

Andy’s shadowy figure straddles you, pinning you to the mattress as you squirm. You let out a squeak and he hushes you. You still and arch your back, trying to push your chest up. 

“Please, who are you?” You whine, doing your best to play into the scenario. “Please, my husband will be home soon--” 

He shushes you again, holding your wrists together as he leans back to reach behind him. You can hardly see through the dark and your foggy tipsiness. The curtains have been drawn, obscuring the room to fuzzy lines and pulsing shadows. 

He hooks something around your arm; a leather cuff, then secures your other wrist. He keeps your arms up and reaches behind the mattress. He attaches the wring between the cuffs to some unseen hook. Where did that come from? 

You writhe as he stares down at you. You squint back at him, trying to see through the dim. Something feels off. He’s so quiet and forceful. It must be part of the roleplay but it just doesn’t feel like him. He feels like a stranger. 

He backs off of you, peeling back the duvet to drop it on the floor. He prowls along the foot of the bed and you kick your feet, whimpering as you strain against the cuffs. You keep forgetting it’s a game. You have to play your part too. 

“Please, don’t hurt me,” you beg. 

There’s no answer. Andy continues to pace, back and forth, back and forth. He's really transformed. Where he would usually have his hands on his hips, he has them folded behind him, shoulders squared, his steps lighter. 

He stops and lets out a willowy rasp. He unzips his jacket, slipping off the sleeves slowly, deliberately. You lift your head as you try to see him clearer. Did he change? He must have dressed up too. 

Then he pulls his shirt over his head and huffs out again, a growl catching in his throat. He drops the shirt with his jacket and the duvet. Andy never leaves a garment outside the closet or hamper but this isn’t Andy, remember? This is an intruder! And you’re the helpless housewife. 

You nearly moan at the thought. Something about it is so hot even if it makes you a bit squidgy too. You tug again on your wrists as you hear his zipper slice through the din. 

“Please--” you beg. 

He kicks the footboard and the loud bang silences you. You can’t help the pathetic noise that trickles from your tongue and you swallow. He’s doing good. It feels so real. 

He continues to undress. Your heartbeat picks up as you wait for him to really start. He bends to pick something up then climbs over the footboard onto the bed. For a moment, you wince. His silhouette is slimmer. Or seems so. The difference is so minuscule it might be your wine-laced brain playing tricks. 

He catches your kicking feet and pushes your legs wide. He trails his hands up them, a piece of fabric tickling beneath his left palm, and firmly hooks them around him as he moves between them. He stops at your pelvis, his rigid length hovering over you. He stretches the black cloth across your eyes, blotting out what little sight you have. He knots the band behind your head and you gasp. 

He traces along your cheeks and your jawline, as if he can see you through the dark, as if he’s learning you by touch. His fingertips dance down your throat and across your shoulders. You feel fragile as he toys with the strap of the lingerie and feels along the flimsy cups, circling his thumbs around your nipples as they pebble beneath the sheer silk. 

He gropes you and growls. The noise is guttural and raw. It flutters into your core and has you twitching. He pushes his knees against your cunt, moving so the friction flurries in your clit. You babble and raise your chest, hungry for his touch. 

He flicks your nipples and his hands crawl onward, down your torso, doting on the soft flesh of your stomach, and framing your hips as he draws back on his knees. He snarls and bends over you, bowing as he grips you tightly. His nails dig into your skin and you whine as you feel his hot breath against your folds. 

He nuzzles along the edges of the panties, growling as he does, squeezing your harder, then at once, buries his nose in your cunt. He wiggles his head and drags the tip of his nose up over your clit and swipes his tongue up to further set you aflame. You moan and curve your back, planting your heels as you urge him on. 

He delves into you, lapping and licking, suckling and swirling. His arm reaches up and he kneads your chest, blindly pulling the lingerie under one tis. He pinches as you cry out and he rolls your clit between his teeth. You puff out shallow breaths, swept up in the sensations. 

This is so different. Unlike he’s ever been before. He’s almost feral in how he touches you, how he feels you, how it seems he wants to consume you. There’s something else different, something strange you can’t place.  

Did he shave? You can’t tell, It must be the wine. His cheeks feel bare against your thighs and yet you swear you feel that scratchy tickle against your cunt. You don’t think about it; it’s all too much to focus. 

You squeal as you cum, spasming into his face as he drinks up your orgasm. You’re heaving and hollow as he doesn’t let up. He laps at you until you’re begging him to stop. Until you’re quaking, nearly sobbing in overwrought pleasure. Until you have a second, a third, and a fourth. 

Your slickness smears over his face and across your thighs. As he parts, his breath is humid, and you can smell the sweet scent of your release. You shiver as he raises himself up and the bed jostles. He snarls and slaps your thighs, squeezing until you whimper. 

He shifts and slides a hand under your leg. He flips you onto your stomach so your arms twist and your face is buried in the pillow. You pant into the linen as he smacks your ass with both hands and growls as he fondles you. You murmur as his touch sends tendrils down your legs and up your back. 

He grips your hips once more and raises your ass. Oh my god. It’s only a few times you’ve done it like this, often Andy prefers you on your back. He says he likes to see you.  

He pulls you back against him, his length resting between your cheeks as he bends over you. He inhales the scent of your hair and snarls against your crown. He reaches down to feel between your legs, spreading your swollen cunt as he angles his hips. 

His tip slips down and he uses his fingertips to guide it to your entrance. You’re so wet he slips right in. He sounds just as surprised as he gasps. He sinks into your limit and you whine. He retracts his arm, hooking it around your neck, and thrusts. 

You squeal as he buries himself even deeper. He does it again; harder. It hurts. You croak and press your chin down into his arm. You feel a ripple of fear. His chest feels... bare. Andy has that trim of fur that you like to play with. Maybe he got rid of it? For the roleplay? 

He snaps his hips again, staying deep before slowly rearing back. He pauses, then bucks again. The impact of his pelvis on your ass is painful and he’s hitting your cervix. 

“Ow, Andy--” 

“Quiet,” he grits in a deep sneer and brings his other hand up to smother your mouth. 

He leans his weight on you, your neck and shoulders aching from the angle of your spine. He dips into you again, again, again. Each pause between grows shorter as he tilts into a full rut. The entire bed shakes with his motion. 

You squeeze your eyes shut and curl your fingers into your palms, the cuffs slowing your circulation. You huff into his hand as he continues his rampant fucking, skin slapping, bones aching. Harder, deeper, faster, until you’re delirious. 

“What’s your husband going to think when he comes home to his wife being fucked like a slut?” He rasps and nibbles your ear, “huh? How’s he gonna compare to this, baby? Your husband can’t fuck like me can he?”  

He taunts and you cringe. You don’t like it anymore. It’s not fun. You don’t want him to be this man. To be this rough and rude. You want him to be Andy. You try to say his name again but only taste the salt of his palm. 

“Keep your mouth shut, slut,” he sinks into his limit and stays there, his voice echoing in your head. His tone is just... off. “I’m not done with you yet.” 

[swords-of-a-soilder]

I've sleep on it here's my beef

If you wanna log in to participate in a event that fine, I get for some CC's purgatory 2 isn't lore (I mean it clearly is, but some players are choosing not to involve it in their lore.) But when you've made the discussion not to take part in the lore you can't ask about it on screen.

I literally got confused when someone told me bad had a reason and to check there lastest reblog, thinking the book gave them the reason and apologising, this fully left me thinking that the residents where told to return home until I was discussing with someone else and realized I fully misread that (I need to wear my glasses more TBh)

But this play apart of the problem because what I except was a lore reason and I went looking for it, just to find out later there is no lore reason bad just calls himself vactionbadboy halo when he wants to log in.

Look I get playing purgatory for fun, I get wanting to log in to see your friends, Tubbo did it, and Pac did it; but the difference with them being they made up a reason to be there (the boat didn't leave) is a completely valid reason.

I can see them going home and then later being drag back to the boat by the incompetent egg Island workers, but jumping back and forth to the island in the middle of purgatory is problematic.

If you don't want to take part in the lore then don't, don't ask questions about what's happening lore wise (on stream he can always inquire in dms ) , don't do things on the Island that messes with other people's lore or breaks the immersion make it easy for the actual people who care about the lore; Ie: fan fiction writers, artists, role players (I am all these things) to pretend you're not there!

This sounds dumb but I genuinely, when lore is happening take note of every little the to go "how can I explain this in lore, how could I enhance this in lore" to help with my fan art or fan works.

Genuinely I have a list of game mechanics,(chat, tabs list, death messages) and have written ways to explain them in lore, so you can imagine my annoyance when someone who isn't supposed to be involved ask questions fresh of a lore event.

I think the confusion to add to it is that Phil has been trying to do more improv on the spot right now rp; like leaving cuucurhoo the notice of the eye guy and keeping his webcam on until a big event ( and I love him for that, genuinely I love lore so much because it feeds art and fan fiction)

But I feel like im being taken a fool when someone who isn't technically supposed to be there asks questions about something they're not supposed to be awear of and even bounces of it like they're in lore "yeah it looks like we're going to war with you guys." we who? You're supposed to be Vacation halo, you aren't in purgatory right, if so how did you get home?!

Get what I'm saying? It sucks because everyone else so far seemed to-do A decent job of staying out of lore if they want to visit some committing to not coming back to the island at all (cough* bolas *cough ) .

If you don't wanna take part in the lore don't complicate the already existing lore, it annoynes me greatly.

I don't mind the attenting events so much, it's the fail rping of discussing something you shouldn't know not long after it happened. (Metagaming)

[the-foundation-sys]

So sorry for the long message....

General ask as a newcomer: any advice for newly realized systems and how to combat statements like "You would've known sooner."? I personally remember little to /nothing/ from ages 12 and younger (and vague memories since then) while (bodily we are) a literal adult and I'm the host. Other members are not open at all with sharing anything with me either so... Nothing seems to be good enough of an answer you know? —H

To add to this, and apologizes for the long semi-rant, we also try very much to avoid these people, but at the same time some members, such as myself, crave interactions to feel less secluded or "wrong" for how we are. . . We just want to know if there was a better way to explain that it just is not easy to figure out in the beginning when you cannot even afford to think about yourself as a person for a moment. . . We are just trying to live and having an unplanned answer makes us feel uneducated and look fake. . . —S

Thank you if you answer and again so sorry for the long question

hello! no need to apologise for the long ask, it is completely fine /gen

as for statements such as "you would have known sooner", that is inherently untrue of people to say

DID/OSDD is a covert disorder. it is quite literally designed to be hidden and difficult to notice. not to mention the fact that amnesia barriers- and the fact you can get amnesia about amnesia- are very much present!

when it comes to DID/OSDD, the time of system discovery depends on many factors. did they have resources to research available? did they have anyone they could tell about what was going on? were they aware of their mental state? did they know they were experiencing amnesia? did they know what DID/OSDD even was? did they have high amnesia barriers? all of those and even more are all reasons that go into system discovery, so don't feel invalid or fake just because you discovered later than others.

infact, DID/OSDD is much more commonly noticed in people of your age range! it's arguably more uncommon to notice in people who are younger, hence why teenagers tend to get fakeclaimed more often by online communities

not only that, but as you become an adult, you have far more resources available to you, and you'll know more about yourself as a person, aswell as many other things, so it can be easier for you to notice in adulthood rather than, say, when you were a young teen who didn't know much about these things and when you didn't know what you were experiencing wasn't 'normal'.

when it comes to people who try to fakeclaim you, or say things like "you would've known sooner." "you'd know more about your system at this age." genuinely just don't listen to them. every system is unique, every person's experience is vastly different to anothers- just because they discovered at a younger age than you or because they know systems who discovered as teens doesn't immediately make you guys fake.

when it comes to people like that, honestly? just block them. the block button is your best friend when it comes to being public about things like mental health, or being in those communities (i can't even begin to tell you how many people we've blocked over the years..)

so, tldr: every system experience is different, and just because you guys discovered as adults doesn't make you invalid. DID/OSDD is a covert disorder designed to not be picked up by you, so it's understandable. there are many factors that go into system discovery, so everyone else's discovery will be different. block people who try to fakeclaim you, because they aren't worth your time! if people try to fakeclaim you, don't pay them mind, because they don't deserve nor warrant an explanation from you guys

you guys are doing great, don't listen to some petty people on the internet who want to invalidate your experiences because yours are different to theirs. and if you need any more system advice, we're here to listen and provide

[doonarose]

Fuck me that was an emotionally destructive work week. But it's 3.30 on Friday and I have little to do this weekend beyond chores and napping, and I am almost, almost, almost there. I will definitely be having wine tonight. I might also get cheap chinese on the way home and be asleep by 8pm.

Student that hasn't spoken to me for six weeks did not pass her milestone meeting. Other academics seemed to genuinely feel bad as they voiced their concerns to me about her presentation and overall understanding which I appreciated but also... I really want to explain to them that that's not because I failed to give her this guidance, it's because she's refused to talk to me for six weeks. So that was fine. She was then grilled in the closed door meeting after withe other supervisor and chair and I was properly forceful with some 'I am right, what I say goes' stuff which I've never been before, but this is stuff we have been over again and again and again, for over a year, and when it's something like how to structure a thesis, my opinion (plus her co-supervisor's and panel chair's and any other decent academic she chooses to speak to) outweighs hers. I know what I'm fucking doing. She also got proper push back about not having enough guidance. There are so many things she's been asked to do which she could have tried in a couple of hours, with no risk beyond failure and she has just stubbornly refused to do a single one. This isn't an exaggeration, of the hundred experiments I've asked her to go and try, she has not tried one. So she's going to end up put at risk of flunking out, given a performance plan, and then we will see. All because she decided a bit of criticism made me cruel and scary and mean... I mean honestly, the stuff she told our department head earlier this week made her look like an absolute child. She doesn't like that there's so much track changes and comments on her writing. Department head asked if those changes and comments improved the writing? were written in such a way that she could learn from them? were written in a professional way that was not rude or personal? All of which led to the revelation: Oh, so you just don't like constructive criticism? ME NEITHER. But it is not a valid reason to stop talking to the person giving it.

So she needs to deal with a close-watched performance review, basically, but she also needs to get over herself, apologise, and start engaging with me again. If she cannot figure that out, she's going to be dropped from the program.

I have just spent so many weeks really thinking I was this massive asshole boss and I'm not.

But then... My right hand man who officially finished up last Friday dropped in today because I gave him an extra week with the work laptop while he moved to his new job and place. We are friends, we still get on, this played out as best it could. Great. My fucking fourth year student, who has been leaching off him for eight months, refuses to listen to my repeated instruction to stop asking this ex-postdoc for help. Don't message him, email him, call him, nothing. He is not being paid to help you and he should not feel obliged to help you out of the goodness of his heart. He's here because I did him a favor and we have known each other for over six years and have a personal relationship which means we can chat. This student walks into my office to tell me they stalked him as he was leaving, chased him down, because he has a file they need.

Okay... why didn't they get the file off him back when he still worked here? Like is it university work product because obviously he needs to leave all that here, or at least copies. Maybe it's not a file... maybe it's some code... maybe it's a macro.... unclear. But basically, he made a program work for her, she has no idea how he did it, and now she's changed the program and it's stopped working. Even if she had the file she has no idea what to do with it because she has not learned enough about the code to run it by herself. That's on her. has she worked with IT? Yes, she's spent weeks trying to get them to help but they say they can't. Okay, forward me those emails... oh they were just phone calls. Okay. Wait, there's two other computers it was working on, could she use one of those? Yes... but those aren't the computers she likes (care factor) and she'd have to....

Anyway. She's a little shit is my point. My department head phoned me and now it's 5.16pm and I'm still here so fuck that I'm going home to my wine.

[cilil]

Day 5 ~ Love & Creation

𓂃🖋 Characters/pairings: Gothmog x Eönwë 𓂃🖋 Synopsis: Eönwë has been experiencing strange feelings for his enemy out of all people and decides to write him a letter. 𓂃🖋 Warnings: / 𓂃🖋 Oneshot (~1k) | AO3

Gothmog, 

admittedly I do not know why I am choosing to write this letter. Perhaps it is a mere flight of fancy that you will rightfully ridicule me for, or it may not even reach Angband, as a land of fire and ice like the one your lord rules over is rather perilous for ink and paper. Either way, I apologise in advance if this letter causes you any trouble or distress, but I have nobody to turn to, and you are the only one I may in good conscience speak to regarding this matter. 

I enjoyed our recent encounters. It may not have seemed that way, I know, but I did. I also realise we were both merely following orders from our lords, and the fact that we had conversations beyond that could be regarded as inappropriate by our respective sides already. 

Nevertheless, for all the posturing and bickering, I found myself feeling strangely... understood? While my peers around me know me as a capable warrior, few ever ponder the implications of it, accepting my efforts to be gentle in nature regardless, whereas you see violent acts, no matter who commits them, as something necessary, something to be viewed with pragmatism. In my opinion a little too nonchalant, if I may add, but I will not deny that your stance was strangely refreshing. 

I feel that I could confess to you, my enemy out of all people, the worst I have done and the worst I have thought about doing and you would not even flinch. You would not be afraid of me. You would not think less of me. At worst you would accuse me of hypocrisy; though I assure you that I am trying my best, just as I suppose you do, evidenced by your rather impressive record of foul deeds. 

I will also admit that merely writing these lines makes me wish to speak to you in person, so I could indeed confess all these things to someone who will simply accept that part of my nature. Perhaps you are even laughing as you read this, wondering how a Maia born for war could have such strange feelings about their very nature. 

But I know you do understand. I know I never saw you among the Maiar of Almaren, and you revealed to me that you and your kin were never welcome among us and became the first to follow your lord. You know how it is when parts of your being are dangerous and unacceptable to others. 

I wonder if you ever wished you could change, though I am not so naive as to believe that you would entertain such a conversation through letters, if the very premise of this one has not already invoked your ire or disdain. And perhaps embracing the worst of Ainurin nature has at least freed you from your doubts, which is something I may, willingly or not, condemn, but am able to acknowledge. 

I know you cannot, will not and are most likely unwilling to help me, and I do not expect you to. In fact, I would already be grateful and honoured if you read this far. However, what I will ask of you is that we meet again. I cannot explain the desire to be in your company, as strange as it may sound, though hopefully you will find it flattering at least. 

If you are willing to see me again, of our own accord and without orders to constrain us this time, you can entrust a message to the bird I sent you, or come to the northern wastes near Helcaraxë at the next full moon, if correspondence by letter is not agreeable to you. I shall be watching and waiting, and you have my word that I have no intention to attempt to deceive you. As long as you extend the same courtesy to me, there will be no need for weapons and bloodshed; for I must warn you, I shall not let myself be trapped or captured easily. 

I hope to see you soon. Eönwë

Gothmog's brow furrowed. It was such a silly idea, to write what amounted to a strange sort of confession and send it to a Balrog, the kind of Maia that was notoriously on fire, but also sweet in a way. 

He had, that much he had to admit, conversed with Eönwë in a friendlier manner than he usually would, finding himself irrevocably taken with his effortless beauty and precious mannerisms, from the pompous posturing to the furious blushing to the various bird-like behaviours he displayed. 

It was a pity, Gothmog had often thought, that such a creature was both too pure and innocent and too determined to follow his master's morals, seemingly forever out of his reach, while also far too strong and capable to simply be claimed and possessed by someone like him. Even if he had decided to resort to violence to get what he wanted, he knew Eönwë would have likely defeated him — in a fair fight at least — yet it only made him more endearing and desirable to him.

And now Gothmog had been granted a rare blessing, an improbable streak of good fortune: His favourite enemy wanted to talk to him and see him. 

It seemed too good to be true, to the point where he should perhaps wonder if he was being lured into a trap after all, but he doubted it — the letter felt too honest in its chaotic, almost desperate pouring out of Eönwë's heart, addressed to someone who, as far as the poor herald was aware, might not care to hear it. Also the good thing about being an enemy of the forces of light was that they were far less prone to lies and deception, with Manwë and his flock of avian servants being the worst offenders when it came to candour. 

Gothmog proceeded to hide the letter in a pile of rocks immediately and curled up next to it. He was going to sleep on this — quite literally — and once the next full moon rose, he would indeed go to meet Eönwë. Maybe, he wondered as he closed his eyes, the pretty bird would let him pet his wings if he listened to him in return. 

Thanks for reading! ♡

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[unknownalien3388]

Chapter One: The Beginning Of Her Heartache - Part Two.

Pairing: Kara Danvers x Lena Luthor.

Masterlist|AO3|Preface|CH1-PT1|CH1-PT3|CH1-PT4.1|CH1-PT4.2|CH1-PT5

Chapter Summary: Kara had not seen or heard from her aunt, Astra, in an abnormally long time, when her father tells her over dinner one night that Aunt Astra had left forever. This news makes Kara began to really worry because she knew her aunt and Aunt Astra would never leave without saying goodbye to Kara first.

Desperate for answers, Kara reaches out to her aunt using a secret channel of communication. During their reunion, Aunt Astra reveals the devastating truth about Krypton, and Kara experiences a heartbreaking act of a betrayal by someone close to her, which leaves her questioning everything she thought she knew.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction that is based on and inspired by the 2015 TV show Supergirl and fanfictions that other people have written. I do not own the characters or canon events of the show as they are owned by the CW Network and DC Comics.

I do not intend to be offensive or disrespectful towards anyone, if anything that I have written can be perceived as harmful to any community or person, I apologise, but that was not the purpose of this fanfiction.

Authors Note: All words in italics are Kara's thoughts.

UnknownAlien3388.

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The Betrayal That Changed Everything:

TWO YEARS LATER:

"Where are you, Aunt Astra?" Kara muttered as she sat down on the edge of the bed, her gaze fixed on the faint glow of her secret communicator that she held tightly in her hands. Kara had sent the message asking for her aunt to meet in her chambers, hours ago, and it was unlike Aunt Astra to keep her waiting. Kara was desperate for answers, and she knew the only person she could get them from was her aunt, who she was starting to think was not going to show.

Kara heard the sound of the door sliding open followed by footsteps as someone entered her chambers. She did not look up from her communicator as she assumed it was one or both of her parents coming in to check on her after Kara had spent most of her day locked away in her chambers. “Little one,” A familiar voice called softly as the doors closed behind them. Kara looked up, her attention drawn to the one person who called her that.

By the might of Rao, Aunt Astra is here, she actually came! Kara thought gleefully and a wide smile broke out across her face as she rushed over to her aunt, who was now standing in the middle of the room. “Aunt Astra, you got my message!” Kara exclaimed, happy to see that her aunt seemed to be well and unharmed. 

Aunt Astra leant down to her height and wrapped Kara in a tight embrace. “Of course, little one. I would never lose track of my spy beacon.” She promised as she broke the hug to connect their matching beacons together.

As Kara gazed at her aunt, she could see that there was something off about her. The calm and ease in the way Aunt Astra usually held herself had been replaced by a strange tension in her posture. Why does she seem so serious? So distant? So unlike herself? Kara wondered, trying to make sense of the sudden change in her favourite aunt. “Where have you been?” Kara asked. She had not seen Aunt Astra in an abnormally long time and her father's ominous words at dinner the previous night about her aunt leaving and never coming back had left her feeling worried. The thought had made Kara’s stomach twist with unease and neither her father nor her mother would explain why her aunt would leave without saying goodbye to her first. She could not shake the feeling that something was not right about what her parents were telling her. Kara knew her aunt and she would never willingly leave without saying goodbye to Kara first. Which was why she was confused that her father would even suggest that Aunt Astra would. “Father said…he said you were leaving and never coming back. Are you in trouble?”

“We all are, little one.” Aunt Astra said gravely. Her usual warmth overshadowed by an intensity that sent shivers down Kara’s spine. Kara was not accustomed to seeing her so serious. Of course, she knew that her aunt was a respected general of the Military Guild. She had heard all of her war stories. But to Kara, Aunt Astra was not a general, she was simply her fun loving aunt, who laughed with her when she was happy and who hugged her when she was sad. Who taught her all about the stars, and the planets within their galaxy and beyond. Who had shown Kara how to survive off the land and taught her how to defend herself. Who encouraged her to fight for what she believed in. But that person was not there that day. She was missing and in her place was a strange version of her aunt that Kara had never seen before. Aunt Astra was stern and weighed down as though she carried the weight of Krypton on her shoulders. What is going on? What happened to Aunt Astra? And why did she say all of us are in danger? Krypton cannot really be in danger, can it? I hope we are not on the brink of another war. Kara thought as the feeling of unease tightened in her chest. “Krypton is dying.” The words were said bluntly and struck her like a punch to the gut. Kara’s eyes widened, her heart dropped and her breath caught in her throat as her mind began to race with even more questions. Before she could open her mouth to start asking them, her aunt continued to speak. Her voice quieter now, laced with something Kara had never associated with her aunt; shame. “I have done what I could to stop it, but I have had to make difficult choices. Choices your mother does not agree with.”

“Is that why Mother does not talk about you anymore?” Kara asked, her voice barely above a whisper. 

Aunt Astra’s eyes flickered with pain, and for a moment, it seemed like she was about to cry. “Yes,” she admitted softly, her voice roughened by the hurt her twin had caused her. “But always remember, little one, whatever happens next, I did it for you, for all of us. I was trying to save our world.”

Mother and Aunt Astra have always been really close. How could they be so divided now? Why will no one tell me what is happening? Kara was scared and annoyed that everyone was being secretive and refused to tell her what was going on. “Tell me why.” She pleaded, her voice trembling. “No one else will explain. Why are you in trouble? Why is Krypton dying? Why is it up to you to save us and not the High Council or the Science Guild?” Kara wanted to ask why her mother was not helping her aunt. But she could not bring herself to do it, because Kara knew she was not ready to know the answer to that particular question.

Aunt Astra hesitated, as if she were deciding how much she thought Kara could handle. There was a moment of silence as her gaze lingered on her niece and Kara noticed the way she was looking at her. It was like Astra was searching for the little girl she had once known, only to find an older, more mature version of her niece. There was a brief look of shock that crossed her face, like she could not believe how much Kara had changed in the little time that had passed while she had been in hiding. Then the look was gone and with a deep sigh, Aunt Astra began to tell Kara exactly what she deserved to know. The truth. “Our core is unstable, little one. It has been for a long time, because of how we harnessed it for power. We became greedy and now the oceans have changed and the weather is worsening. I have tried to get the people of Krypton to stop and see what they are doing. But no one is willing to admit the truth, that our world is dying. Not even our leaders. The High Council, your mother included, has refused to see the danger we are in, and in going against them, I have had to do some difficult things.” 

This cannot be true, can it? Argo City, the place I call home and Krypton, the planet I love, could not possibly be dying. And yet, as she looked at her aunt’s face, pale and worn down by months of secrecy and fighting, Kara knew Aunt Astra was not lying. “Why did you not tell me sooner?” She asked, her voice tinged with hurt. 

“Because I wanted to protect you, little one. I wanted you to stay innocent for as long as possible. You deserved a childhood free from fear.” Kara blinked back tears, struggling to hold onto the strength Aunt Astra had taught her. She was unsure how to respond. Her aunt’s love for her was undeniable. But she was not only talking about saving Kara from fear. She was talking about shielding her from the truth. However, now Kara knew and it weighed on her like the heavy robes of mourning she had worn two years ago when she said her final goodbye to her grandparents. Was it all really worth it? Hiding this from me? She wanted to ask, but she did not feel brave enough. “I have to leave again,” Aunt Astra said, her voice thick with regret. “It is not safe for me here anymore. Your mother...she has sent the Military Guild to arrest me. She wants to send me to Fort Rozz.”

I have heard of that place before and it is what nightmares are made of. The mere thought of the name Fort Rozz sends shivers down my spine. The prison is known to be filled with our galaxy’s worst criminals. There is no way Mother would ever be so cruel as to send her own sister there....right? But even Kara did not quite believe what she was telling herself. “No!” She cried, as she took a step back, her eyes widened in disbelief. “She would never….Mother would never do that! She would never sentence you to that place, you are her sister and she loves you!”

Aunt Astra looked at Kara with an expression on her face like she wanted to believe what Kara was saying but knew that it was not the truth. “Your mother already has.” She told her sadly, reaching out her hand to gently hold the side of Kara’s face as if trying to bring her the smallest amount of comfort she could. “But I wanted to see you one last time. I could not leave without saying goodbye.”

"Will I ever see you again?" Kara asked, her voice breaking as tears welled in her eyes. She had never heard of anyone getting out of Fort Rozz once they had been sentenced there, but she was still hopeful she might see her aunt again.

Before Aunt Astra could respond, the door to Kara’s chambers slid open and they both turned around to see Kara’s mother standing in the doorway, her expression stern. Behind her were members of the Military Guild standing at attention. It was a scene Kara had only witnessed in the High Council Chambers when her mother passed judgment on Krypton's criminals. Now, that same cold authority was directed at her sister. Why has Mother brought the Military Guild to my chambers and why is she looking at Aunt Astra that way? Like she is nothing more than a common criminal? Kara could not understand what was happening and refused to believe that her mother would do any of the things her aunt was accusing her of.

“It is time to stop hiding, sister.” Kara’s mother said. Her voice was cold and devoid of the kindness Kara usually associated with her mother. She had heard her mother use this tone before, but never when talking to family and never toward Aunt Astra. “You must face the consequences of your actions.”

Kara’s heart shattered when she realised that she had unknowingly helped her mother draw her aunt out of hiding. Father had purposely told me about Aunt Astra leaving last night because my parents knew I would try to contact her to get answers. And I did. This is all my fault. I called her here. I should not have done that. Kara scolded herself as she spun around to look at her aunt, expecting panic or anger, anything that might reflect the gravity of the situation. But Aunt Astra’s face was calm as though she had been expecting this. As if she knew her sister would use her love for Kara against her. “I knew this would happen, I will come peacefully, for her sake.” Aunt Astra said, glancing at Kara. “I do not want Kara to see anyone get hurt. But know that I will continue to fight for my cause.”

Kara felt her throat tighten and her heart begin to race as members of the Military Guild stepped into her chambers. “Aunt Astra, please!” She cried, throwing herself into her arms. “Do not go! Please do not leave me!” She begged, her pleas muffled by her aunt’s shoulder.

“I have to, little one. But remember what I told you. Sometimes people do the wrong thing for the right reasons and no matter what, you must be willing to stand up for what is right. Even if those around you, especially those closest, do not understand or agree with you.” Aunt Astra’s voice was steady as she used her arrest to teach Kara one final lesson.

Kara clung to her aunt as tears streamed down her face. “I love you.” She whispered.

Aunt Astra pulled back a little bit to look Kara in the eyes. “And I love you, little one, more than you will ever know. I could not have loved a daughter more than if Rao had granted me a child of my own.” Kara knew her words were sincere as Aunt Astra, who could not have a child, loved Kara like a daughter. She had practically raised Kara, teaching her all the important things that mattered while Kara's parents were busy. Her father was off furthering Krypton’s scientific advances while her mother was protecting their planet from any potential dangers, both foreign and domestic. Together, Kara and her aunt stood in a loving embrace, a fleeting moment of peace.

As the Military Guild led Aunt Astra away, Kara stood frozen, watching helplessly as her beloved aunt was taken from her, knowing this loss would leave another permanent scar on her heart. When the door slid shut behind them, the sound echoed loudly in the silence of the room. Kara’s mother approached her, her expression softening to one Kara was familiar with. “One day you will understand why I did what I did.” Her mother told her. “One day you will understand that Astra’s actions endangered us all and I had no choice.” 

“Was she telling the truth?” Kara asked. “Is Krypton in danger? Because if it is, there is still time to fix it, right? We can still do something to save it?”

Her mother placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, “Kara, there is nothing to worry about. Your aunt was wrong, okay? Krypton is strong and the High Council has everything under control. We will be fine. You will see.” But Kara did not believe her mother, for some reason her words felt hollow to her. Instead, Kara turned away and stared out the large window at Argo City. She did not react when her mother walked out of the room, she simply kept looking out her window.

⋆꧁~KTNB~꧂⋆꧁~KTNB~꧂⋆꧁~KTNB~꧂⋆

That night Kara lay in bed unable to sleep, overcome with conflicting emotions. She felt guilty for helping her aunt get arrested and sent to Fort Rozz. Even though Kara knew she did not mean for it to happen and knew she would have never contacted Aunt Astra if she had known the whole thing was a trap. She felt betrayed that her mother had used her to lure her aunt out of hiding. But even worse than that, she felt ashamed for doubting her mother when she promised that Krypton was safe. Instead, Kara chose to trust Aunt Astra at her word, because she had never once lied to her before and Kara did not believe she would start now. What confused Kara most was how someone as wise as her mother could not see the truth in Aunt Astra’s warning: that Krypton was changing and not for the better. Why could her mother not see the potential looming crisis Krypton was about to face. She was disappointed that her father had not tried to stop her mother and she was angry that no one thought to tell her sooner that their world was dying.

The longer Kara laid in bed, the more questions she had. How could Mother punish her own sister for trying to save Krypton? Why had she used me as bait? Why did I not realise it was a trap? Why did Father not intervene? And if Aunt Astra knew it was a trap, why had she come at all? Was it because I called her, unaware that she was in hiding? Why did Aunt Astra not find a safer, more lawful way to convey her message to the people of Krypton? She must have known that what she was doing would get her sent to Fort Rozz. I hope she knows the truth behind what happened in my chambers. I hope she knows that I did not mean for any of this to happen.

As these thoughts continued to circle around in her mind, Kara felt her blood begin to boil. Krypton was potentially on the brink of destruction and its inhabitants were recklessly exploiting its natural resources, while her mother and the High Council refused to believe her aunt’s warnings. But beneath the feeling of anger, hope sparked like a fragile flame in her heart. Maybe Mother was right and there is nothing to worry about. Or maybe Aunt Astra was right and this is what needed to happen to open Mothers eyes to the truth and now she will do what needs to be done to save Krypton. Because I know if anyone can save us, it will be my mother. My mother and the High Council. She thought with confidence and as she held on tightly to that piece of hope, Kara felt her eyes flutter shut.

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Dear Reader,

Thank you for reading Chapter One: Part Two of Kara - The New Beginning. I hope you enjoyed it. I believe this chapter was important in the development of Kara’s character in Kara - The New Beginning as it taught her that while you can love your family unconditionally, you cannot always trust them, even when they have good intentions.

As always, I would love to hear your thoughts and opinions on what you have read so far. Your feedback is always welcomed and is important to me as I continue to write Kara’s story. If you spot any mistakes, notice anything that seems off, or have ideas for future chapters, please feel free to leave me a comment as your feedback is always welcome.

UnknownAlien3388.

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