#i’m so good at telling lies that came from my mothers side told a million to survive

[dumbbitchenergy17]

Where the Wild Things Are - Chapter 10

Chapter Ten: Family Line

Plot: Wild men or monstrous infected creatures, the world is wild and ravaged by Cordecyps but some are raised in it and flourish becoming a wild thing.

Word Count: 4K

Pairing: Joel Miller x Platonic!Teen!Reader, Ellie Williams x Platonic!Reader

Warnings: canon-typical fighting/violence, injuries, harsh language, tw: NOTES OF SELF HARM, ANXIETY ATTACKS/RESPONSE, trauma from abusive mother, description of child neglect/abuse

a/n: I hope everyone enjoys the holiday season and here is a Christmas angsty post

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Scattered 'cross my family line.

I'm so good at telling lies That came from my mother's side. Told a million to survive

Scattered 'cross my family line.

God, I have my father's eyes But my sister's when I cry.

I can run, but I can't hide From my family line

Anything could happen. One wrong move can turn this into a bloodbath. You can see each individual, pausing at a woman who wears a balaclava covering the lower half of her face but you recognize those eyes. Lila squirms seemingly recognizing the group as the woman lowers her mask, both you and Lila saying the same thing.

“Mom..?” “Momma!”

The air is like daggers filling your lungs, stabbing you as you inhale, scraping and cutting you as you exhale. You’re not sure if she knows you anymore. Are you some fleeting memory of her poor child that left her? Abandoned her all those years ago. Do you even recognize her? Of course you do, she is the same in your memories, in your dreams and nightmares. She probably smells the same if you were to be in her embrace. The smokiness and burnt smell that others would cringe away but you seek comfort from it, the smell of burning wood always reminds you of her. The sharpness of almost rubbing alcohol changed to something more fruity whether it was wine or yeasty beer. But that smoky smell never left her. Even now breathing in fresh air you expect to get that hint of smoky. You are surely death gripping the reins as Lila vibrates in your saddle her hands reaching out to be taken…by her mother. You see the shocked looks from Tommy and Ellie as their gaze darts from you to the woman staring at you with equal shock. She finally speaks and it sends chills of fear but also safety through you.

“Y/n…is that really you honey…you’re alive?” She says and you think this a dream? As you see tears fill her eyes. The others that a with your mother lower their weapons and even Tommy and Ellie lower theirs too. You are speechless afraid if you say something you’ll wake up or she’ll disappear hearing you confirm you are the child she lost all those years ago.

“I’m sorry. I know this is all overwhelming. But it’s getting close to dark and infected tend to roam here. Look you should all come back with us to Jackson so we can figure,” Tommy says glancing over at you who is still silent dead staring at your mother someone he can’t help but feel like he knows, “Figure this all out.”

Your mother quickly wipes the tears from her face, “Yes I’m sorry. Thank you that is so kind of you.”

With that decided you all head towards Jackson. Tommy leading up front, Ellie in the middle with the other group including your mother, and you in the back with Lila. You’re sure Red could sense your complete shut off and taking over. You take in everything about her, her hair is longer and greying with age, and she looks the same but just older and weathered with time. She dressed normally for the weather nothing standing out, a sawed-off shotgun in her free hand the other holding her reins. You had so many questions since you knew that Kansas had fallen to infected where had she been this whole time? Lila yawns snuggling into your chest. When did she have time for another child, she could be old maybe five or six. She could have had her when you were gone makes sense, you wouldn’t know if your mother was pregnant when you were in the QZ. Or would you have? The way she just acted was nothing you experienced in the fourteen years with her. Was your leaving cause her change? Did she miss you? Looking down at Lila you feel your chest tighten, did having her change her? Was this child the reason she wanted now to be a good mother? You wince already remember her words at that comment. She was the best mother she could be with the resources she had. It’s your fault you made it harder on her to raise you. You wouldn’t have a better childhood if you listened more. Did Lila listen? Was she better at things you struggled to do before? Did she have your mother’s affection? Did she have your mother’s love? Was Lila being born a way to heal her broken heart from you abandoning her?

Your restless thoughts keep you occupied for the duration of the trip and when you come partially aware you are at the gates of Jackson right as the sunset dips below the horizon and the lights of the community start turning on. Watching the large gates open to a small crowd of people waiting for your return but also hearing of the newcomers. Your gaze sweeps seeing members of the council, Dina and Jesse there most likely for Ellie, and Joel and Maria are waiting in the forefront of the crowd. All your horses draw to a stop the stablehands come and start guiding the Jackson and outsider horses to the stables for food and rest. In your arms is a sleeping Lila, your pack and rifle still on your back an empty expression on your face. There might be a look on your face but you can’t think of one as you stare off as the man with the gruff voice helps your mother off her horse and you see a slight weight shift to her, something is either wrong with her leg or foot. You are motionless as everything else moves around you, Dina and Jesse greeting Ellie who seems to be keeping an eye on you. The council alongside Maria with their son as they speak to Tommy about the newcomers, his gaze also flickering back to you as you still just stand there. Other members of Jackson check out the new people the local doctor coming to check some of their injuries, especially a man who’s currently in a makeshift sling. You don’t notice Joel’s concerned gaze on you as people move around you but remain frozen with a little girl in your arms. One person comes over a nurse or someone comes and takes Lila from your arms and you slip your rifle and revolver off to someone so they can be locked up with the other weapons. You mumble lightly that she might have some minor injuries to check, but it comes out like, ‘Cuts…no bites…she’s hers.” Your gaze is still locked.

It’s a shock to the Millers and even those that know of you. Since you’ve been here, it’s harsh, bitter, curses or glares thrown. A hot temper, but then it mellowed out still a spitfire but wasn’t picking fights. This version was frighteningly silent, like the entire world around you faded away only focused on one thing, but even you didn’t dare to speak up or try and react. Joel just sees someone coming at you and he makes a step to go protect you but a woman throws her arms around your shoulders pulling you into a tight hug and crying into your shoulder.

“Oh thank god you’re alive. I thought all these years I lost you and I never forgave myself.” She sobs into your flannel her tears and snot getting on it, your body rigid hands held at your side as she holds you with such tender affection. This was the first time she hugged you, you would remember other times trying to get one only for her to push you away. It was always you trying desperate to initiate one but here she was holding onto you like you were going to crumble apart if she let go. She pulls away with teary eyes she clutches your cheeks looking over you taking in every detail of you and keeping it in your memory. You shudder at the eye contact, you don’t think she’s ever stared at you for this long and it only gets your heart racing more.

“You are so beautiful and all grown up. I’m so sorry I couldn’t find you then, but I was given a second chance now,” She sniffs and you don’t know what to say your hands clenching and unclenching trying to keep yourself grounded. A burning sensation at the back of your eyes.

Everyone could sense how uncomfortable you looked, not knowing how to act in this very emotional situation, “Tommy who is that?” Maria asks not fully able to hear every word being said but it was clear whoever this was knew you.

“The little girl, Lila that’s her mother,” Tommy hesitates in dropping this bomb, “She is also Y/n’s mother.” Joel’s eyes widen once he gets a better view of the woman immediately getting thrown back almost 20 years ago remember her. It was still early in the Outbreak with people being evacuated to other QZs. They were all together in the Dallas QZ until they got separated when it reached capacity. Tommy and he went to Boston and she went to another QZ. He wouldn’t have forgotten her.

“Tommy what did you do,” Maria asks immediately on edge. If that was your mother she knew exactly what she was capable of. Does she warn them to stop this? Had things truly changed with time? No, she abused you as a child she can’t change…but with her crying in front of you Maria felt hesitation to speak. Both Tommy and Joel give her a confused look before returning to look at what’s happening before them.

Your throat feels tight as you barely get the word, “M-mom…I..I” out and she’s all teary while you feel on the edge of having a breakdown.

“Shhh don’t worry about anything. All that matters is that we are together as a family. You, me, your sister,” Her mentioning Lila pushes you further to the edge, your hands squeeze so tightly you’re sure blood is drawn, “Oh honey you’ll love it,” She gushes. Honey that name you only dreamed she’d call you another step towards the edge.

“We’ve been waiting for this moment and…you have Derek…your father.”

You are shoved off the ledge as tears spill from your eyes but you know they aren’t tears of joy. It’s far from it as you see the gruff man with the bandana now lowered come over standing beside your mother. He rests a hand on your shoulder and you can feel it burning through your clothes and scarring your flesh.

“Hey kiddo…it’s been some time,” It’s like every warning bell is ringing in your head. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. You’re not supposed to get a face to the name ‘dad’, he was nameless. A bastard father to a bastard daughter. You were going to die and never know what he looks like conjured up some image of a man that is always changing. You shove your mother off you and she gasps as your father goes to steady her all eyes immediately on you. Your hands are clenched so hard in fists that your face tenses up with these wide frightened eyes. An almost pained noise comes from your throat like you want to scream or cry but are forcing it back.

“Honey..” “Kiddo.” Both your parents try reaching back to you but you take a clumsy step back and then book it pushing through the crowd. Your vision is a blur and you nearly run into Joel who tries to steady you but you shove him away and book it down the street darting down an alley. Your mother tries going after you but is held back by your father.

“Ellie,” Joel calls out getting the girl and her friends' attention, “Try and find her please.” The younger girl nods and the three young kids run off in search of you. Joel turns back to the couple bickering as Tommy and Maria approach.

“I told you it would all be too much,” The man says and the woman runs her hand through her hair, “It doesn’t matter now. We can’t take it back.” She turns to look over at the adults her gaze pausing on one familiar man.

“Joel Miller?” She seemed shocked to see him especially alive after all these years there almost seemed to be a twinge of fear in her eyes.

“It’s good to see you after all these years,” Joel says and Tommy looks between his brother and your mother and it clicks how he recognizes her. The QZ was back in Dallas in their early days. She and Joel were pretty close that was…like 18 ye— Immediately his gaze darts from both Joel to your mother, then to your ‘father’. His first memory of you was thinking how familiar you looked then when he came back with Joel it was like staring at a mirror from face down to attitude. Especially now looking at your ‘father’ you didn’t look a lick like him, maybe Lila did but you certainly did not. He squeezes his wife’s hand and flashes her a small ‘when need to talk’ look which she understands and squeezes back. Your mother laughs awkwardly.

“Yeah, what are the odds…anyway thank you for all you’ve done for our daughter it’s good having her safe with us.” She says and the irony from it given the fact you just ran off.

“It’s glad to see you alive and well,” Maria says fixing her grip on her son, “Y/n has said much about you…but not much about her father.” Her gaze moves from your mother whose gaze almost narrows to daggers to your father who looks a bit nervous.

“Unfortunately Y/n and her father haven’t had the best relationship but we’re hoping to reestablish that, especially in this world where anything can happen,” Your mother says smoothly and Maria tensely nods.

“Well…let’s get you situated with some food, check in on your other daughter, and then we’ll get you and your people settled for the night,” Tommy suggests, and your mother and her group all nod. Tommy begins leading them off to the Tipsy Bison. Maria goes over to Joel who watches the whole scene.

“Joel go find Y/n,” She says and Joel nods but he notices the conflicted look in her eyes.

“You know something,” He questions and she flashes him a look but sighs.

“Just give me time Joel, please. Go worry about her for now.” She pleads and Joel looks at her trying to unpick her but sighs and goes off and looks for you.

Joel hits your normal spots, the stables, specifically Red’s pen but not there, checks Maria and Tommy’s house to see if you’re there, and even goes to his home to see if you decided to run off there but no, he was going to head to the library when he runs into Dina who tells them they found her. The pair head out into the woods to reach a clearing, there’s an unlit stone firepit and some benches made my logs, he’s been here a few times with Ellie and Tommy, but this was mainly a spot for the younger kids.

“Go!” You screech like a wild banshee as a rock hits a stray tree. There he finds, Ellie and Jesse on the outskirts where the forest ends and the clearing starts. You are in the middle of it pacing and he feels a spike of concern seeing flecks of red in the snow.

“Y/n let’s just talk—” Ellie starts jumping back as another object is thrown in their direction a pained held-back scream.

“Fuck off!” You grit out. Your bloody hands grip your hair, your gloves tossed amongst the snow as you pace your heart racing and they can see you choking to get air in your system.

“Kids go,” Joel says and Jesse and Dina nod starting to trail away he sees Ellie look at him hesitant before she too leaves. Joel takes a step into the clearing the crunch of snow makes you whip to face him and he raises his hands like taming a wild beast. Your chest heaves as you eye him with sharp panicked eyes. Tears stream down your flushed cheeks as you continue making that pained noise.

“I’m not gonna do anything kid,” Joel says calmly as one of your hands that grips your hair moves to your flannel clutching your collar as if it’s choking you. Joel rushes as you drop to your knees with an unhuman cry like this tidal wave of emotions finally takes over. He pries your blood hand from your hair to stop harming yourself allowing you to death grip his sleeve as you scream this gutwrenching sound. Joel squeezes you close to his chest as your screams muffle in his coat soon it turns into a heartbreaking whimper. He has to look up to the sky to blink back the burn in his eyes holding you close to him his hand stroking your hair to soothe you.

“It’s okay…I got you,” He says as you tremble in his hold weak sobs and hiccups as you break down. It took a while for your cries to settle down just sniffles fill the clearing, the cold snow seeping into both of your pants a grounding force. Joel pulls back to get a good look at you and you see the pity frown as he takes in your bloodshot eyes, snotty and just out of it from your breakdown. His thumb swipes at your cheek to help rid the stray tears and you don’t even react to it. You don’t flinch at his eye contact unlike your mother, his contact doesn’t send pain throughout your body, your heart doesn’t race, nor does your chest tighten as he holds you. It’s quiet between you too as he helps you to your feet, shrugging his coat off and putting it over your shoulder to stop your shivering. Your stare is endless completely checked out as he rushes to collect your gloves shoving them in his pocket turning and seeing you still standing there. The coat seems to engulf you and he sees little droplets of blood fall from your slack fingers staining the pure snow crimson. Wrapping his arm around your back he begins guiding you out of the clearing to civilization. The other proof something happened would be the stains of blood that litter it. Like a sacrifice was needed to completely let yourself go.

Joel brings you to Rancher Street but instead of the home you’ve been staying at the past month he guides you up the porch steps to the place where it all started. The lights are dim as he guides you to sit on the couch before the still-crackling fire. Footsteps from upstairs and he sees a concerned Ellie coming down the stairs taking in the sight of you unmoving on the couch.

“Ellie get some blankets and a clean rag with water,” Joel says and Ellie rushes off the complete the order. Joel leaves his coat still on you but kneels to untie your boots and you do little to help just a deadweight. Your eyes were almost lifeless the flames of the fireplace flickering in them. Ellie returns with the items before heading off to the kitchen, Joel takes the cloth getting it damp before pushing back some of your hair seeing the scratches you caused, and being gentle to clean them away. You don’t barely react when he accidentally puts pressure on a cut as he cleans the blood and tears from your face. Once your face is clean he goes to work on your bloody hands when their a knock on the door.

“Joel, go I got this,” Ellie says returning with a steaming cup of what looks like hot chocolate, to try and lift your spirits. Joel lets the young girl take over heading to answer the door. There he finds his brother alongside his wife and child.

“Did you find her?” Tommy asks and Joel leads them inside from the cold but not completely in. They can see Ellie speaking softly to you as she cleans your hands but your gaze remains on the flames an exhausted look on your face. “Christ,” Tommy sighs pinching the bridge of his nose and Maria looks over a high wave of emotions seeing you completely shut down.

“Her…her mother…wanted to see know if she would be staying with them,” Tommy asks and Joel immediately feels a rush of anger, “I know it’s a stupid question.”

“Hell no Tommy,” Joel spats, “You think any normal person would react the way she did if they saw their mother and father again? I won’t let that happen.” He points at your lifeless body as Ellie tries offering you the drink but it’s like she’s invisible staring right through her.

“I know that Joel, you think I didn’t see that as well, but that’s her kid. Y/n is their family,” Tommy sighs and Joel scoffs.

“And is she not ours?! Who took care of her all these months? Who let her in their home when she thought she had no one? Who did she cry to and confided to? Us Tommy!” Joel points at himself then at his brother and wife, “Sure I know her mom and we all had our history together, but if my child tears themselves to the point of bleeding at the sight of them I’m not going to stand by.”

“I agree with Joel,” Maria's voice is smooth but a held-back anger in her tone. She holds her son with the protection of a mother and if she could she would be right over by you holding and comforting you. Both Miller brothers are surprised at Maria’s stance and Joel scrutinizes her trying to pick her apart to learn what she knows.

“You know they aren’t going to like this,” Tommy says but the looks on both Maria and Joel’s faces make him sigh. Both of them are willing to die on this hill. “I’ll go let them know that she’s already asleep.” With that, Tommy presses a kiss to his wife’s temple before leaving the home. Joel looks back seeing that you are indeed asleep with Ellie resting her head on the armrests looking over you. Maria rests a hand on Joel’s shoulder as he looks down at his sister-in-law.

“Just take care of her Joel,” Maria says and Joel nods as Maria leaves. Joel comes over to Ellie who looks over you with such genuine concern and care.

“Come on kiddo,” He says offering a hand and pulling the teen to her feet keeping her close to his chest, both drained from the high emotions.

“Will she be alright Joel?” She asks and Joel is silent looking down at you resting on the couch a frown on your face. Even in sleep, you were being tormented.

“She will…come on up to bed,” Joel says and Ellie tiredly listens heading up the stairs as Joel begins putting out the fire. He turns to where you lay lit by the sliver of light from the window and the hallway lights. His hand pushes your hair back making sure you’re comfortable, he doesn’t stop himself from smoothing out the crease between your brows and you seem to settle more a bit of tension released. A flash of Sarah covers your feature and he flinches at the resemblance of his daughter. Why looking at you brought memories of the daughter he lost confused him. There were moments when Ellie acted that reminded him of Sarah but the two of them were nothing alike, while Ellie was loud and brash, Sarah was gentle and soft-spoken This brief moment you look so young and innocent, a child that never got to be a child. You looked like his child.

“No one’s going to hurt you babygirl,” He says as he rises to his feet looking down at his daughter until he blinks and there you lay. He whispers into the air his oath to you.

“I promise.”

Where the Wild Things Are Tags

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[lovelychips]

rip neil josten you would’ve loved family line by conan gray

[sukirichi]

[ DUSK ‘TILL DAWN : 015 ]

“we who bear the burden of the crown do not need to love. you only need to stay here, with me, in power, in greed, in lust – in victory.”

cw. modern royal au. angst. physical violence (not to the reader.) manipulation. lying. angst. hurt and a little bit of comfort ig??

notes. feedbacks / reblogs/ comments are appreciated <3

wc. 10.4k

series masterlist 

[ FIFTEEN ] scattered ‘cross my family line, i’m so good at telling lies – that came from my mother’s side, told a million to survive. . . i can’t forget, i can’t forgive you. ‘cause now i’m scared that everyone i love will leave me

“This was a mistake. We should get divorced.”

The tranquil song of the sea was deceptive. A vast expanse of silver under the soft glow of the full moon caressed Rintaro’s face, his handsome face heartbreakingly heartbroken. The moon hung low in the sky, casting a serene, almost ethereal light upon the two of you. On the distant coast, a lighthouse flickered, its beam briefly piercing the darkness before vanishing. The momentary light was enough to let you see – the truth, the split-second show of vulnerability within his eyes before it left only the memory of its glow.

Rintaro stood in front of you, at an arm’s length away but your heart worlds apart. The long line of spray marked where the sea met the land, its boundary evident. There, where the moon’s loght turned the sand into a luminous carpet beneath your feet, the waves lulled your racing hearts into quiet murmurs swallowed by the breeze.

You listened to his words – words that carried the weight of an ending unforeseen. Disbelief clouded your mind. You refused to accept what you just heard. Turning your head the other way, you bit down on your lip, hard enough you tasted the coppery tang of blood.

The rhythm of the sea was like the lilt of your heartbeat, steady yet trembling. It began, ceased, and began again, each cycle mirroring this endless round of circles you and Rintaro ran in – to loving, to hurting, to forgiving. Was this how ended? In a poorly-timed farewell?

You always knew this moment would come. Someone would have had to say goodbye. You just never thought the words would come from his mouth.

Your feet rooted deep in the sand, you listened to the melancholy refrain of waves crashing against each other. The moonlight reflected in the water, a silver path stretching into the unknown. You stood there, letting the sea speak the emotions too deep to be said out loud.

And what a moment it was – with the beauty of the night, the serene majesty of the sea, and bittersweet flicker of candles behind you.

It would’ve been easier if the sea held your sadness, with the moon as your witness in your quiet despair, the cliffs holding onto their stone each memory you knew you’d keep for many years to come. The night air, sweet and cool, carried away and brought with the wind your unshed tears.

This was a mistake. We should get divorced.

Rintaro’s words echoed in your mind, a cruel reminder that some stories, no matter how beautiful or tragic, all had its end.

“What did you say?” you licked your lips, forcing a smile despite the wobbliness of your knees. It couldn’t be, right? The night was going well. Fate couldn’t be so cruel – he’d just begun to love you. “I must have heard you wrong.”

Your husband turned away from you, his grip on the bouquet tightening. You watched as the flowers crushed between its force, its beauty drained with one just hand.

“You didn’t. I meant what I said – we should end this.”

“Why?”

His head snapped your way. “What do you mean, why?” he hissed, the bouquet slammed on the ground as he gestured to the air. His eyes were blown wide, frantic and desperate. “Look around you. Don’t you realize none of this feels right? Let’s drop the act, Princess. Neither of us truly want each other, and don’t tell me I’m wrong when I see the way you look at me.”

You reeled back, unknowingly clutching at your chest. “And how do I look at you?”

“Like you’re thinking of ways to get rid of me,” he spat out with a laugh, “Like-like you’re looking for the man who courted you two years ago, the one you truly wanted to marry. Well, I’m sorry to disappoint, because you’re not going to find him. He never existed in the first place. Whatever it is you’re looking for, you won’t find it in me,” his eyes blazed with fury, but then, as if the fire within him had been doused, his hands fell limply at his sides. “But you may find him in someone else.”

Rintaro’s gaze dropped to the floor. Sorrow filled his eyes, his expression softened before he spun on his heel. Turning away, your husband stepped forward.

“Take one more step–” you threatened him, hands balled into fists. “–and I will make you regret it.”

“Do your worst,” came his tired reply, his shoulders slumped. “I couldn’t care less.”

His steps were quick, as if he couldn’t waste any more time in getting away from you. It made blood boil within your veins. Before you could notice, you’d already crossed the distance in one breath, furiously grabbing him by the elbow and spinning him to face you. You were certain you look crazed – your face flushed, your cheeks damp with tears rolling down. He must’ve seen it too, his face falling at the sight of you.

“No! You think you can walk away from me? You think you can do all this–” you gestured to the beach around you, finding it harder to breathe with each word you spoke. “–buy me a house, tell me you envisioned a future with me, made love to me, and even prepared this dinner–”

“I didn’t do it for you. It was Kiyoomi who came up with this idea because he wanted to make you happy.”

Shaking your head, you shoved at his chest. “He wouldn’t do that. Kiyoomi wouldn’t be so cruel!”

“Oh, but I am for going along with it?” he snapped, closing the distance until his wrath enveloped you. “Get out of your head. Just because I did all those things for you, doesn’t mean they meant something. Are you forgetting I spent two years of my life trying to win you over, and I never once felt something for you other than tolerance?” When your face fell, triumph washed over his features. “That’s right. You remember now, don’t you? She’s the one I want. Everything I do is for her. Don’t forget your place.”

“My place? I am your wife. It’s my ring that you have on your finger. What place should I be forgetting? All of this is for me, you did this for me–”

“Oh, wake the fuck up, Y/N!” he bellowed, grabbing at his hair before he turned to glare at you. “I’m so tired of you going around acting like everything I do meant something. Has it never crossed your mind I could have just been bored? It didn’t, did it? Because you’re honestly foolish enough to let your guard down and believe that I wanted you!”

“Then why do all this if you didn’t?” you retorted, “You could become King as long as you married me and I gave you a son. You didn’t have to buy me a house, o-or act like you cared behind the cameras–”

“Well, are you? Are you with child?”

“No, but why does–”

“Then you have no hold over me. Marriage means nothing. This ring? This stupid fucking thing?” You glanced at the gold band at his finger, the one you watched roll over the floor on that day you gave it back to him. Rintaro hadn’t taken it off since, but now he looked at with resentment – like it suffocated him, choked him. “It means nothing. You cannot make me King if you don’t give me a child. And as long as you’re walking around without a baby in your belly, then you mean nothing to me. You have no purpose in my life.”

“So that’s what this is, then? Because she’s pregnant and I’m not?”

Rintaro’s face morphed into despair for a fleeting moment, so quick you questioned if you saw it at all. But almost as quickly, Rintaro’s posture straightened, his eyes hardening with steely resolve. Your breath caught in your throat – your suspicions confirmed.

So it was true. He knew.

And all of this – this house, that mocking conversation of building a family with you – it had been nothing but a cruel joke.

A strangled gasp escaped your lips. Stumbling back, your hands instinctively clutched at your chest as if desperately holding together the pieces of your shattered heart. The attempt was all for naught. The weight of betrayal crashed over you like a thundering wave. Each thought was a daggered stabbed to your soul as the pieces fit together – your husband, the one you loved, and his true love, now carrying his child.

Tears welled up, blurring your vision. You tried to hold them back, refusing to let him have the satisfaction that he’d succeeded in hurting you.

And it had been so easy, wasn’t it? He knew you so well, knew you like the back of his hand, that it came without too much effort that it was so easy to have you wrapped around his finger. One kiss, one tender touch, one proclamation of his so-called affections, and you would’ve broken your back bending to his will. He knew. He knew how easy it would be to win you over, and time and time again, you fell for it like the fool you were.

Everything burned. The pain was too raw, too overwhelming.

“You are cruel, Suna Rintaro. I regret the day I danced with you,” you gritted your teeth, digging your nails into your palm. Hard. “Perhaps you are right. We should get divorced.”

Rintaro sighed. “It’s for the best, even if it’s not what you think.”

“Because you can finally be with her, right? Your dream life is already coming true. You’re going to be a father, you’re going to spend a future with the one you love, and I’m hopelessly in love with you enough that I’ll just let it happen,” you smiled for him, clapping your hands together slowly and mockingly. “Congratulations. It’s everything you wanted. Things are finally going accordingly to plan. Should we open a wine to celebrate?”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “Stop acting like a child. You knew what you were getting into when you caught us together and still proceeded with the wedding.”

“You still blame me for that after everything I did for you?”

The silence hung in the air. Somehow, his lack of response already spoke a thousand words.

Unable to help yourself, you glanced at the beach house behind Rintaro. It stood proudly against the backdrop of the setting sun, its white walls glowing warmly in the fading light.

The memories came flooding all at once – the laughter you shared, the stolen kisses when he thought no one was looking, the whispered promises of a life you’d never life. You could almost see them dancing in front of you, like ghosts of the past, lingering in the shadows of the porch and taunting you with the fact it had been too good to be true. So many dreams built, so many dreams shattered.

Your heart ached in ways it shattered you bone-deep. It echoed from your chest and reverberated down to your feet as you recalled the nights you spent wrapped in his arms. His hands on your cheeks, a small smile on his face – when he still looked at you like he loved you and meant it.

But now? Now, that love felt like a cruel illusion – a beautiful dream turned into a living nightmare. The betrayal cut deep, deep enough it left behind the harsh hand prints on your soul. The wounds stinging hard that it might never heal. You forced yourself to tear your gaze away from it – from the swing on the porch swaying gently on the evening breeze, the window that once framed your silhouettes when you welcomed the sunrise together. Each detail was a stab to your already broken heart.

A stray tear fell on your cheek. Brushing it away, hands trembling, you took a deep breath – forcing the salty air to fill your lungs. “Was… was any of it real?”

Turning away from the house was the hardest part. Each step felt heavy, as if the weight of your memories were trying to pull you back. You cast one last, longing glance over your shoulder, your heart silently breaking anew.

Deep down, you already knew his answer. Still, it did not soften the blow when the words left his lips. It didn’t hurt any less when regret crossed his features, like somehow; a part of him wished it had been. “No. None of it was.”

“Okay,” you resigned, your body turned away from him, so he wouldn’t have to see be so pathetic anymore. When you finally spoke again, your voice came out as a breathy whisper. “You should go.”

You heard a slight shuffling behind you, followed by his mumbled words. “I never wanted to stay, anyway.”

When Rintaro walked away from you, each step he took was daunting, final. You didn’t know what hurt you more – the fact he never looked back, or the fact he never hesitated. But there was one thing that was made crystal clear to you now: it was never going to be you. How deeply unfair it was, that a man could say things he did not mean, do things he did not want to. How he could marry you and buy a house, and then turn you away at the next moment.

Love truly was a dangerous thing. It made you break down your walls, hopelessly and blindly handing your heart in the hands of someone, all while silently hoping they wouldn’t break it. And when it did, who would pick up the fallen pieces? Who would gather the shattered shards of your soul as it spilled like blood through his fingertips?

You didn’t have an answer for any of these.

Knees buckling, you fell into the sand, your palms sinking on it with its weight. You cried your heart out – the skies hearing your anguish as it echoed in the dead of the night. You screamed, begged, and called out for a God who never listened. The betrayal left a bitter taste on your tongue, a relentless ache that gnawed at your insides until it felt like nothing was left. As if you’d been hollowed out, bled out to dry, and discarded to the side.

You laid there for who knew how long. The flames of the candle had gone out, the food forgotten and cold. Sand had made its way into your joints and your hair. Your cheek felt crusty and hard from the dried tears. You cried and cried until there were no more tears left – watching from the horizon as the skies deepened into a darker shade.

Just then, a jacket fell on your bare shoulders. Stiffening, you raised your head from where you rested it on your drawn knees – blearily blinking at the figure before you. The man stood tall even with his legs bent, the faintest hint of spice mixing with the breeze.

Behind you, the Second Prince stood, his face devoid of any emotion. Yet, his eyes said it all. You are briefly shocked by how much you saw of yourself within him at that moment. The longing, the sadness – Kiyoomi wore his grief proudly. At the sight of you, his face softened. He offered his hands, one you took with no hesitance, and allowed him to pull you up to your feet. You two stood like that for a few minutes – unspeaking, and just staring at each other.

Kiyoomi was the first to look away.

“You’re cold. You shouldn’t stay out here,” tightening his jacket around you, the Prince suddenly pulled you in for an embrace. It happened too fast, faster than you could react. Before you knew it, your face was pressed against his chest, his heartbeat – strong and mighty – the only sound audible aside from the howling breeze. And you sunk into his hold as your tears stained his shirt, realizing a little too late how much you needed this – to be held so tightly like he feared letting you, like he could squeeze you hard enough and it would hopefully – eventually – piece back together the heart his brother had broken.

“Shhh. I got you, Princess. I’ll always be here for you.”

You’ve gone past the point of believing such flowery words. But when it came from Kiyoomi, you never doubted he’d keep the promises he’d made.

The once-vibrant beach house, filled with laughter and endless conversations, now stood in silence. Its walls held the unspoken truth that forever was not going to last. The gentle breeze that had always carried a promise of endless days spent in joy now whispered farewells through the rustling palms.

Rintaro had begun his farewells. Now, it was your turn to leave everything behind.

The Princes and their companions moved with quiet efficiency. Ever since that dreadful night, things hadn’t been the same anymore. No one spoke about what happened, but it didn’t take a fool to understand that romantic dinners weren’t supposed to end with you and Rintaro returning to the house hours apart – both miserable and mum. One quick look at you two, and the Princes began packing up.

Everyone knew their time had run up.

Casting a final, longing glance at the house, you breathed in the salty breeze one last time. The memories clung to you, each step you took feeling like a betrayal to the woman you could’ve been – the wife he could’ve had, and the mother you would’ve been. With a heavy heart, you watched as everyone loaded their luggage back to their respective vehicles, each one of them driving off. Their movements – along with yours – had been mechanical, as if the finality of their departure had numbed everyone to their core.

You looked out the window. The sun had began to greet the world with its morning kiss. The sea, once shimmering and glistening with spark-like waves, now seemed to mourn with you. The beach, scattered with the footprints of a happier time you’d said goodbye to, would soon be swept clean by the tides.

Any traces of the memories you made would be wiped clean by the world itself. If only it could give you a new beginning, too.

The journey back to the palace was somber. The rolling hills and distant forests passed by in a blur of muted colors – the world passed you by, in both the literal and metaphorical sense. If anything, the ride back felt like walking into your own death. A death march of duty and purpose. Speaking of duty… your hands cradled your belly. You weren’t pregnant, nor were you experiencing any symptoms. Rintaro knew this, too, otherwise he wouldn’t have thrown it in your face that you were merely nothing but a breeding mare for him – and a failed one, at that.

The palace loomed ahead, its grand spires and imposing walls reminding you of your reality.

Back at the beach house, your emotions were valid. There, you were a brokenhearted person who longed for true love. Here, though? None of that mattered. The Palace was not a place for emotions. It was a pillar, the foundation of what the Crown held – power, victory, wealth, control. Here, you were a Princess, and a Princess should always hold her head high.

You couldn’t do it. Bile rose up your throat each time you pictured yourself walking down its grand hallways, the gold shimmering and blinding you. Just the mere thought of the Queen studying you with her observant gaze made you squeamish.

You turned to Rintaro. “Can we please head to my parents instead?”

He looked at you like you’d grown two heads. The Palace was already in view. Still, his gaze darted at you, and back at the Palace, as if seriously considering it. Then, he pinched the bridge of his nose and slumped against his seat. “If you are doing this as an act of revenge–”

“I’m not. My parents truly did want to see us.”

Rintaro contemplated. Absentmindedly, he spun the ring on his finger, gazing down at it with an unreadable expression. His voice was light, and whisper-like as he said, “You cannot tell them about the affair.”

You pursed your lips. You never planned on doing so in the first place. Crossing your arms against your chest, you huffed. “Don’t worry, Your Highness. I never planned on ruining your perfect image.”

Rintaro didn’t bother with responding. Instead, he asked the driver to head back to the Yuzuru Estate, and quickly informed Her Majesty on the detour. It didn’t take long enough before you were surrounded by the familiar grove of trees that led to your place. The sound of wheels on cobblestone mingled with the soft murmur of the midday breeze. Outside, the manicured gardens and stately mansions blurred into a comforting embrace, their elegant silhouettes nostalgic. You couldn’t help but feel the need to reach out, to run your fingertips over the freshly mowed grass, or admire the shapely bushes designed to perfection.

You missed your home very much – one of the few places you felt solace in before your life turned upside down.

Pulling up into the driveway, your butler immediately opened the doors for you. There was a round of warm welcomes and joyful smiles. You’d missed them, too – all the loyal staff who took turns watching over you, even when they remained hesitant to properly acquaint themselves. Nevertheless, it was home. You greedily breathed the fresh air in, letting it fill up your lungs as you breathed out the darkness pooling at your chest.

The double doors opened, and the two of you were ushered in. A few minutes later, your mother came rushing past – a shawl drawled at the curves of her arms. A smile instantaneously, rising up from your seat to meet her halfway.

“My daughter, oh, how I missed you!” she laughed, the sound of it light and coloring up the room. Pulling back from the embrace, she cupped your face with her gloved hands – all her previous smiles slowly wavering. “My goodness, have you been eating well? Sleeping well? You look… different.”

You winced. It would be hard to hide things from her, but you had to try.

Leaning into her palm, you gave her the biggest smile you could muster – teeth flashed and all. “I’m okay, Mother. The Palace can just get a little exhausting sometimes.”

“Does your husband not help you with your duties?”

It was your father who spoke this time. He must’ve come straight from trimming the bushes; a sunhat covered his head, and he wore gardening gloves that were stained with grass and a miniscule of dirt. You didn’t miss the way his gaze leered at your husband. Rintaro was stiff behind you, having stood up as well as soon as your mother entered. “He does most of them, so I believe he is more tired than I am,” you supplied, pointedly ignoring Rintaro’s relieved sigh. Clapping your hands together, you walked towards your father with open arms. “But let’s not discuss any of that – how is everyone doing? I feel like it’s been forever since I last stepped in here.”

“Ah, no,” your father complained as he held you at an arm’s length away, “My clothes are soiled, and you are pristine. Do not bother yourself with getting dirtied.”

You pouted; your mother giggling behind you.

Being back at home was an instant medication. You hadn’t been here in months, yet the effect was evident – your shoulders felt lighter, your smile more natural. You’d stopped trying to think of Iris, too, yet you remained warily aware of your husband. And it was clear Rintaro was unsure of himself. He lingered longer on the doorways, his interactions with your parents more formal than it had been compared to the first time he called upon you. You couldn’t blame him for his discomfort – the question of his affair lingered on the air.

It was only a matter of time before someone addressed it.

A few hours later, with your stomachs filled with warm, homemade meals, you all moved out towards the back gardens. The garden stretched out in a lush expanse beneath the golden glow of the setting sun, each corner rich with the memories of your precious childhood.

Winding stone paths meandered through vibrant displays of blooming flowers – roses in shades of crimson and blush, peonies in soft pastels, and clusters of fragrant lavender. Elegant statues and an ornate fountain stood in the middle of it, their waters cascading beautifully. Majestic oak trees, their branches spreading wide in a serene embrace, provided cool, dappled shade – your signature reading spot from your teenage years.

You’d made many memories here; time spent with your father chasing you and your mother around as your gurgled giggles echoed through the air. It was also where your father taught you to use weapons (much to your mother’s distaste), and eventually, even a date spot when Rintaro wanted a reprieve from the public eye.

Rintaro and your father went ahead. Your father claimed he hadn’t properly worked out in a while, and that perhaps your husband could help him warm up. Beside you, you and your mother watched as the two men rolled their sleeves up to practice sparring. It’s a silly thing, but one you knew Rintaro enjoyed. He often spent time with your father like this when he was still courting you. They toyed with weapons, hunted birds, and sparred with one another. It was your father’s way of gauging Rintaro’s strength at first. Now, they simply did it as a way of bonding.

You smiled despite yourself.

You could still remember those times vividly, where warmth crept up your neck upon the knowledge your parents liked this boy you adored. You appreciated all his efforts, never once backing down from an absurd request from your mother, or another challenge from your father. Rintaro had proven to them, without fail, that he was dedicated in winning your heart.

He’d succeeded. It would be impossible if he didn’t.

He came every day, always at seven in the morning, with a bouquet of flowers that led you into reserving a room just to turn it into an indoor garden. He’d brought flowers for your mother, too, and you knew the moment she shed a tear at his sweetness, that he’d also won their hearts. The sweet ‘yes’ he’d been working hard finally came a year during the courtship. It was on that memorable night he’d driven you out for dinner – no drivers, no servants, no anything. Just you and I, he’d said with a smile, placing a kiss upon your knuckles.

It was the first night you’d kissed him, and the first night you stayed up awake as you lost the battle of trying to calm your racing heart.

If you’d known that early that his heart had already been occupied… No.

Even if you knew, even after you knew, it was too late. You were doomed from the moment he’d picked you out from the crowd. You’d resigned yourself to your fate when the throng of people parted for him as he made his way to you, wearing the most dazzling, lazy smile befitting for a Crown Prince.

You didn’t stand a chance.

You might’ve fallen in love the moment you stepped on his toes, and all he did was laugh.

“My dear,” your mother’s silken voice pulled you out of your trance. Smiling at her, you turned her way, silently sipping on the tea the servants had prepared. Before you, your mother twitched, playing with her fingers splayed on her lap. “I don’t mean to suddenly spring this up on you, but surely you’ll understand a mother’s curiosity and concern. So, tell me. Is it real? Is it true the Crown Prince is cheating on you?”

Your body froze. You’d seen this coming – known she would’ve asked one way or another.

“No, Mother,” you shook your head, dropping your gaze onto your lap in the hopes she wouldn’t see right through you. “His Highness would never. That article was already proven to be a hoax.”

“I see…”

You shared an uneasy silence. Seated across from each other, you stirred your tea absentmindedly, gaze drifting over the manicured hedges that framed the secluded nook. Your mother, poised and composed, sipper her tea with deliberate slowness. You could tell without looking at her that her inquisitive gaze searched for answers on your face. For signs of the truth you struggled to conceal with each passing minute.

The gentle clinking of porcelain and the soft rustling of leaves did little to alleviate the tension, the silence between you two growing heavier with each unspoken word.

Finally, your mother set her cup down and sighed. “I still remember the day the Crown Prince came to call on you,” she began, her words delicate and careful. Her gaze flitted to the two men before you, still elbow-deep in their sparring. “Your father and I didn’t want to believe it at first. You were always beautiful, of course, but you were such a shy, little thing. We worried you might grow old without striking a conversation with any man, but a Prince? A Crown Prince, no less? We were over the moon,” she shook her head at the memory, a small smile playing on her lips. “But then your father and I both agreed you didn’t deserve any lesser man. There couldn’t have been anyone else for you. The Crown Prince was perfect.”

He was, you wanted to agree, he used to be.

“I remember that day, too,” you mused, the image of the Prince with his slicked-back hair and three piece suit flashing in your mind.

You’d expected he would look out of your place in the Estate, whatnot with the royal crest on his chest, yet he never looked more fitting – surrounded by your family portraits and delicately gazing at your childhood photos.

“He was especially handsome – I’d say even more so than when he showed up for the Palace’s royal events.”

“Well, I wouldn’t be surprised. It was clear he wanted to impress us, and you, especially,” teased your mother with a slight poke of her elbow, her face softening. “I remember it all, my dear. How he would always share with us his plans for the dates he’d take you on, how he always took you home at the exact time he promised he would. He was a perfect son, the perfect addition to our small family. And I could never, ever forget how you changed when you met him.”

“I changed?” your brows furrowed, before you shrugged in agreement. “I suppose I have. Being with someone like him… I had to be conscious and aware of everything I did. Do you remember that, Mother? When I begged you to come shopping for clothes for me when you knew I never was interested in any of it?”

Your mother giggled behind her hands.

“I was so happy that day when you asked me to come with you! I thought my sweet girl was finally growing into a mature woman. But that wasn’t the change I was talking about,” she continued, sliding her chair closer to yours. Her palm landed on top of your knee, and she slowly caressed there – just like how she did when you first scraped your knees. And how healing it was, a mother’s tender touch on top of your wounds. It made you want to rip your heart out and shove it between her fingers, to silently beg her to make it all okay.

“…When you met him, you became radiant. In love. You smiled more often, and you opened up a whole new world that the Prince showed you. There wasn’t a day you didn’t speak fondly of him. And you had that look on your face, sweetheart–” she ran a finger down the side of your face, her eyes glistening with tears. You couldn’t understand why she looked so broken. “–it was in your eyes. Everyone could tell how much you loved the Prince.”

You swallowed, the smiles you wore becoming more and more faded. “Mother, I still love him.”

“I know, sweetheart, I can tell,” she cooed. Prying the cup from your hands, she immediately held your hands in hers, her warmth soothing as it seeped through her gloves. “But I also know you’re not happy anymore.”

Your resolve began to crumble.

“Mother…”

Your eyes began to glisten with unshed tears that you struggled to keep at bay. Despite your best effort, the façade of composure slipped. A single tear escaped, trailing a path down your cheek – and just like that – a dam had opened. The door holding your secrets unlocked. It was hard – painfully so – to pretend everything was okay when it was not. You felt like a little child again. A little girl craving her mother’s soothing embrace, and you couldn’t help it – you launched yourself into her arms, burying your face in the crook of her shoulder as your body shook with each sob.

“Oh, sweetheart,” your mother patted your back. Judging by the way her body quivered under you, she’d been crying, too. “It’s okay, I promise. Please, tell me what’s wrong. I can’t handle seeing you like this.”

“Mother, it’s…” you bit at your lip, trying to muffle the whimpers that passed your lips. “I’m sorry, it’s true. I didn’t want to lie, or have to hide it from you, but Rintaro loves you both a lot and I was afraid you’d hate him–”

“Oh! Oh, my poor baby. Never apologize, okay? It wasn’t your fault.”

You clutched her tight, her dress balled into your fists. A part of you told you that you should feel pathetic, that your actions weren’t Princess-like. That Her Majesty would frown at the sight of you and tell you to act your age. But you couldn’t muster the strength, not when your mother’s embrace was the only thing keeping you together – the only thing that told you it was safe enough to fall apart. And so you cried, your tears soaking her dress and the fabric wrinkling under your grip.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Your mother’s sniffles was the last thing you heard before the sound of a fist connecting with skin resounded in the area. Pulling back, you gasped at what you saw.

Rintaro was lying on the ground, your father on top of him. Your father grasped Rintaro by the collar, delivering blow by blow to his face until blood spattered to the grass. Somehow, you managed to scream. The sound was ear-splitting as your heels hit the ground, clutching the ends of your dress as you ran for him. Rintaro wasn’t putting up a fight – his arms limp by his side, his head swaying with each merciless punch on his face.

“Stop!”

“You cheating bastard,” your father glowered, rearing his arm back for one final blow. “How could you do that to my daughter?”

“Father! Please, stop!”

The commotion caused servants to pour from every corner. The guards arrived, pulling your father back by the elbow as he struggled to free from their restraints. Meanwhile, your mother stood beside him – crying and dabbing her handkerchief at his blood knuckles. And you? You fell on the ground, uncaring that the grass had stained your dress, and loomed over your husband. “Rin,” you called out. A low groan was all you received, but it was enough. You breathed out a sigh of relief, immediately calling for the servants to bring some ice and towels.

“Get out of here! You aren’t welcome here anymore!” your father kept kicking and screaming, the sounds of your mother’s pleas falling on deaf ears. “I swear by the Gods your title won’t keep you safe, boy, you will regret it–”

“Get up,” hooking your arm around Rintaro’s elbow, you grunted at his weight. “Rin. Come on. Let’s go.”

Still dazed from being beaten, Rintaro’s legs wobbled underneath him. He groaned, finally wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you limped back to the house. Your father was still a screaming mess, but you knew your mother would calm him down eventually. For now, you needed to tend to his cuts.

You brought Rintaro up to your room. A servant had left an ice pack and some towels there already. Making Rintaro get rid of his bloodied shirt, he changed into one of your father’s – his wince displeased yet left with no choice. Once he’d changed into something clean, he sat at the edge of your bed, shoulders slumped and his handsome face bloodied and bruised.

The air was thick with uneasiness in the dimly lit confines of your room.

The soft glow of your candlelight flickered across the ornate furnishings and Rintaro’s wounds. You worked quietly before him, finding there was no need to speak. His face, usually lacking in interest and graced with slow, lackadaisical smiles, was marred by a collection of bruises and cuts.

Your hand trembled slightly as you carefully dabbed a cloth soaked in cool water against a swollen cheek. The Crown Prince, despite his physical pain, looked even more vulnerable under the soft lights – his usual demeanor replaced by quiet resignation.

With delicate movements, you applied salves, ensuring your touch remained tender and soothing. It wouldn’t erase the hurt from his body, but maybe your care would make it ache less. Each gentle stroke of your fingers served as a silent apology for the pain he endured. And the room, filled with the faint scent of healing balms and the soft rustle of fabric, suddenly felt all too intimate.

The silence between you was heavy, punctuated only by the occasional rustle of the bandages and the soft sighs coming from him. As you finished tending to his wounds, your eyes met, and for a moment, it felt like he was that young man from two years ago – fresh-faced, and red-cheeked upon entering a maiden’s room for the first time. He’d been so nervous back then, his hands clammy and drenched with sweat. In reality, that man was just a fragment of who he truly was now – your poor, bruised husband who winced at every tender, caring touch. As if your love wounded him, and cut him in ways he couldn’t heal from.

As if he just waited for that finishing blow to come from you instead, to be his final damnation.

But it never came.

In that fragile moment, Rintaro closed his eyes, leaning into the caress of your palm as it hovered beside his face. This gesture you remembered – of him accidentally cutting his palm open with a letter opener years ago, and when you’d wrapped bandages around his wound. He did the same thing and leaned into your touch, only to kiss the insides of your wrist. He’d looked up at you from under his lashes, his lips full and ready to be kissed. And kiss him you did, because then he’d been yours, and you’d been his.

You didn’t pull away then. You couldn’t pull away now.

Using your thumb to stroke his swollen cheek, you sighed, the sound tired and heavy. “Did you tell my father? Is that why he beat you up?”

“No. We barely spoke during the spar,” he informed, tongue darting out to lick the dried blood off his lips. “But he kept looking over at you and your mother. I reckon he was just waiting for you to reveal the truth eventually,” just then, Rintaro chuckled, wincing when the motion made his cuts split further apart. His smile remained, however, and you drunk his features in – the way he tipped his head to the side, his eyes hooded, with just the barest hint of a playful smile. “You were never a good liar, you know that?”

“Is that so?”

“Hmm,” he hummed, “On our second date, you told me you didn’t want to watch the movies because you were worried people might crowd us. But it was written all over your face how much you wanted to.”

That, you remembered, as well. You found it impossible how a Prince – a Crown Prince – could simply saunter to the theaters like he was any regular man. He was right; you did want to. You’d never been to the theaters since it was always crowded, and you never did well in the dark. But you soon learned the dark wasn’t so scary when he had his arms wrapped around you. If anything, it felt elating – having the Prince play with your fingers, his gaze never really focusing on the movie.

Rintaro’s jaw clenched, more so in thought. “You always kept things to yourself, always did things for me even when it made you uncomfortable. Was it because I’m the Crown Prince that you felt you couldn’t be honest with me?”

“Not entirely. I guess I was just afraid that if I didn’t do what you liked, then you would lose interest in me.”

“That would never happen,” he interjected, “The moment I laid my eyes on you, I knew you were the one I wanted to marry.”

The realization dawned on him a little too late. His words carried weight with its double meaning, and he winced. The moment was broken. The thread snapped right in front of your eyes. Pulling away from him, you quickly gathered the bloodied towels and set it aside. You made yourself busy, fully aware of his eyes on you, but you wouldn’t dare look back. You had a feeling that if you did, your mind would run rampant again on the last time he’d been here in your room, when your sheets still smelled like him, and he’d fucked you hard enough on your bed that your bodies left an imprint.

You wouldn’t look at him. You couldn’t.

“I’m sorry about what my father did.”

“It’s fine. I deserved every punch,” he shrugged it off, then smirked. “Although I’m probably less appealing in your eyes now. Bruised and all. I don’t look very Prince Charming-like.”

You snorted. “Since you wish for my honesty, then I’ll tell you now the whole Prince Charming act never suited you.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I liked you better when you finally became more comfortable around me. You weren’t as poetic as when you first started courting me, but you were more… yourself. You were funnier, and a lot more charming when you weren’t trying so hard,” you broke that rule all too easily, and you did look at him. You looked at him, even if you could never see through him. “To me, it felt like I wasn’t dating the Crown Prince at all. I liked the unfiltered version of Suna Rintaro better. The one who enjoyed silences, instead of filling it with flowery words to get my heart fluttering. The one who preferred phone calls over texts because you wanted to hear my voice before going to sleep. The one who I considered my closest friend, the one I knew I wanted to marry, too.”

He was beautiful like this – his shirt hanging loosely at his broad shoulders, his arms slightly leaning back as it dipped with his weight on the mattress. His hair was tousled, the dark locks beautifully framing his face. And his eyes – hazel and more brown than green as the orange ember glows kissed him – were something you could lose yourself in for hours. For forever, even.

Suddenly, you wanted the world to end this way. You wanted time to stop if it meant picturing him like this, frozen and unguarded, beautiful and smelling like your perfume. You would’ve died a happy man if it meant this would be your last moment. With him on your bed, his clothes on your floor, and your ring on his finger.

You yearned for him so badly your body ached.

“Princess,” he mumbled after a pregnant pause, his voice coming out small as he said, “Why don’t you hate me?”

“Who says I don’t?”

The smile you pulled from him is lighthearted; unresevered. “Let me rephrase my question. Why do you still love me?”

Because isn’t that what love is? To know someone’s flaws, and to accept them as who they are? To see all your bad mornings and watch you stumble into the bathroom, clumsy and hazy. To see you at your worst, to choose arguments with you than silence with you. I thought that’s what love meant – to see the ugliness in another and to defy the impulse to turn the other way in search of another, the ‘someone better.’

You don’t tell him that. Instead, you offer another truth. “I wish I knew how to answer that myself.”

“I’m afraid,” Rintaro admitted, voice vulnerable and small. “I fear that one day, your hatred of me will consume you, and you will forget why you ever loved me.”

The candles cast soft shadows off his face, flickering like the fleeting time of the time you had with him. Each flame pulsed with the restless ache in your heart as you recalled the moments of closeness and intimacy that was half-heartedly reciprocated.

Your gaze drifted toward the space where he’d once lain beside you, the indentation in the sheets a painful reminder of the absence that now filled the void. You wanted to tell him you hadn’t changed the sheets since he last slept here. The scent of his cologne still lingered in the air, he still had his own pair of socks in your drawer, he’d left a wristwatch or two behind. He was here everywhere in your room, even if his heart wasn’t.

And it was so hard – so fucking hard – to accept that he didn’t love you.

Want me, you pleaded silently, at least want me. Just a little bit.

With slow, deliberate steps, your hand rested lightly on the bed’s edge, your fingers brushing against the cool, smooth fabric, as if permanently pushing the warmth of his presence back to the bed. Your heart ached with a bittersweet yearning for a heart that was never fully yours, a yearning that clung to you until it wrapped its fingers around your throat.

He was here now, wasn’t he? He wasn’t leaving. He said he would divorce you, he said it was always going to be her, but he was here – in front of you, in your room. If you dared to reach out a hand and crawl close enough, you could fall into his lap and cradle his head to your chest. And it was exactly that passionate longing that would ruin you – because you couldn’t resist. You couldn’t resist from trailing your fingers up his arm, all the way to his face. His eyes were unreadable; his pupils dilated and his lips pulled apart.

God, you wanted to kiss him.

So you pulled him close. Grabbed him by the collar, and slid yourself into his lap until Rintaro was forced to scoot backwards to balance you both, his large hands coming to rest on your hips. You breathed hard, shaking your head at yourself before your forehead knocked with his.

“Rin… Your Highness,” you corrected, rasping out the words. “I’m sorry. I know it’s wrong, and I know I could never have your heart but could you just – could you please hold me? Just for a minute, please. Pretend that you’re in love with me, I just–” your breath hitched when he squeezed your hips, to stop you or encourage you, you couldn’t tell. “–I just want to feel it again. That happiness I had with you.”

Rintaro hitched you up higher on his lap. Your chest crashed with his, and his lips followed. He tasted of blood and sugary biscuits. His taste, and his scent, flooded your senses until there was nothing to perceive but him.

And the kiss? It isn’t gentle. It isn’t soft. It’s desperate – lips bruising lips, teeth knocking with teeth, and tongues passionately grasping at one another. Your hands fly everywhere after that. Tugging at his hair, grabbing him harder by the collar to deepen the kiss. He swallows every sound you make, breathes them in like he needs them to live. So you give all you can and moan out his name – not Your Highness – and revel in the way he keens. He melts like snowflakes in the heat of your palm, like your touch burns him. You’re seconds away from dragging him back up on the bed when Rintaro suddenly shoves you off him. He flings himself upright and crosses the other side of the room in quick strides, the quick rise and fall of his back facing you the only thing visible from the dimly-lit room.

He didn’t need to say it out loud.

He’d regretted that kiss. Your heart broke once more as you sat at the edge of your bed. His rejection stung, even more so when he wiped his lips with the back of his hand. Rintaro was shivering now as his head knocked against the window. Each breath he took seemed labored, as if even the act of drawing air was a struggle against the overwhelming sorrow that enveloped him. The air around him felt dense with the gravity of his internal torment, and your heart sank as you finally voiced out what he could never say out loud –

“…You really don’t love me.”

The silence falling over the room wrapped around the space like a heavy, suffocating shroud. the absence of sound was deafening. It pressed in on the walls and made each breath feel louder. Every creak of the floorboards or distant murmur from the outside was amplified, heavily echoed in the thick air. And when Rintaro finally spoke, it came with a tone of finality and unconcealed regret.

“I’m sorry.”

You swallowed, blinking back the tears as you fixed your appearance. “Pardon me for a moment,” you began to exit the room, your hands hovering on the handle before you you’re your decision. “Your Highness… is it okay if I stay here at my parents? It’s just for a few days. I don’t think I can handle returning to the Palace anytime soon.”

“Of course. Take all the time you need.” Rintaro did one final sweep of your room with his eyes. Something unreadable passed over his face. In the next moment, he cleared his throat, and opened the door himself. “I should leave. Goodnight, Princess. Please tell your parents that I left already, and I truly am sorry for the mess I caused.”

Rintaro was gone before you could say anything.

Just before his back disappeared from your line of sight, you saw something you thought you would never witness – Rintaro took two steps at a time on his way down, his frown pronounced as he wiped the tears off his face.

It unfolds like a badly written tragedy.

One moment, Rintaro is standing in the confines of your room, his heart racing with a desperate urgency that pulsed through every fiber of his being. He’d wanted to keep kissing you. Pulling away, and resisting his desire had to be one of the greatest pains he’d experienced, but he had to. He couldn’t keep doing this to you. His conscience wouldn’t let him.

That’s why he had to resort to doing the only thing he could think of in that moment – to run away and leave you behind.

Storming through the stately halls and out the grand doors of your estate, Rintaro pushed through. The weight of his regrets made each step harder to take, a burden that dragged him toward the waiting car parked outside the chill beginning to settle.

He jumped into the vehicle, ignoring his driver’s confused queries before slamming the door shut behind him. Inside, the car felt like a confining cell, its leather seats and polished surface now an inescapable prison of his own making. His hands, trembling with a mix of frustration and despair, gripped the steering wheel with a white-knuckled intensity.

In a sudden, raw burst of emotion, his fist struck the steering wheel with a deafening thud. The impact reverberated through the car and sent a shiver down his spine.

Still, he kept going – each strike of his fist minimal in comparison to his anguish. He reveled in it, the sharp pain in his knuckles a fleeting distraction from the deeper, more consuming agony that began to eat away at him.

His breaths came in ragged gasps, each inhalation a struggle. The air inside the car felt stifling, thick with the heavy scent of leather and the acrid tang of the remnants of blood at his face. His tears began to flow uncontrollably, streaming down his face and mingling with the sweat that dampened his brow. In the suffocating silence, his mind raced through a myriad of memories – from when he’d first kissed you, when he first held your hand, and the tender embraces he held you in.  Each memory served to remind him of what he had now – nothing but a fractured connection, a strained marriage, and your fragile heart which he couldn’t protect.

Each image passing through his mind were tinged with bitterness. He recalled the warmth of your presence, the way your smile could light up the room, and the feeling of your hand in his.

He wished he could take it all back – to start from the beginning, to re-introduce himself to who he truly was. But he couldn’t. He knew he couldn’t. It was too late.

He’d gotten Iris pregnant.

Rintaro hadn’t mean to. Sure, he was careless and never used protection, but he thought little of it. Iris’ cycles were irregular and they never worried if she missed her period. She was always on the pill – all because of him, since Kiyoomi wouldn’t have touched her anyway. In another lifetime, Rintaro might’ve felt happy. Instead, he was filled with crushing dread. He couldn’t be a father, he didn’t want to be like his father.

And why hadn’t she told him? All this time… he foolishly thought she’d began ignoring him because it was a mutual, unspoken feeling that they’d just gotten tired. He never handled the media’s criticism well, and Iris wasn’t any better. She cared about her image and reputation more than anything – so why hide this from him? If he had known sooner…

What? his mind taunted, What would you do if you knew sooner?

Rintaro’s head dropped to the steering wheel. The voice in his head was right. He wouldn’t have done anything. Had he known four months ago, he would’ve celebrated. Had he known two months ago, he would’ve been upset, but choose to take responsibility in the end. But now? Now his decision was clear. Without giving it a second thought, Rintaro pulled out of your driveway and headed straight for the palace, dialing Iris on his way.

She picked up on the third ring.

“So it’s true,” he spoke to the phone, driving past the other cars on the highway in full speed. He should drive more carefully, but his blood was pumping loud in his veins – your touch lit a fire in him, and he needed that fire stoked. “You’re pregnant.”

A pause came from the other line. “How did you know?”

Rintaro gripped the steering wheel tighter, glaring at the phone even if she couldn’t see. “You’re heartless, Iris. How could you let my wife find out about it first before I did? Why did she have to tell me?”

“She told you – what? I never planned on letting you know about it, Rintaro. I don’t even know how she found out!”

“What, you were going to use that baby against me? Is that what you planned?” he growled at her, “You’re not keeping that damned baby – you’re getting rid of it right now. I’m not letting you fuck up my marriage.”

“I wasn’t going to keep it anyway! You’re absolutely insane if you think I’m planning to give birth to your filthy child–”

“Shut up!”

Rintaro ended the call. He’d had enough of her and her greediness. How dare she keep something like that from him, aborting his child before he even knew of its existence?

He stepped harder on the gas.

The engine roared in defiant response to his intense, almost reckless driving, its powerful growl a stark contrast to the stifling silence that enveloped the car. The air inside the car was thick with the acrid scent of tension and frustration, each breath he took feeling heavier and more labored as he fought to keep his rage contained.

His thoughts raced with the echoes of the argument, each harsh word and biting remark replaying in his mind like a relentless loop. The sting of her anger gnawed at him, fueling the fire of his own resentment. The images of her face, twisted in frustration, seemed to haunt the darkened windows of the car. Iris seemed to do that often – haunting him both in his dreams and a nightmare.

Rintaro couldn’t fathom why it was too late when he realized she’d never been a good person to begin with.

She was never his friend.

She only approached him because Rintaro was malleable. He was a blank canvas of a man, a lost Prince. He was nothing but an experimental toy for her. She’d kissed him, stolen his heart, and fed him lies that she’d give him what he wanted if he did what she liked. And he did – every fucking time. He drunk himself wasted, because Iris didn’t like drinking alone. He smoked packs of cigarettes for her even when he hated the taste of nicotine, because Iris got antsy without smoking. He fucked her hard and deep, and spent countless nights in her bed, because her husband never wanted to touch her. And what did he get in return?

Fake smiles. Sarcastic, mocking comments. A dry reply from his enthusiastic texts. A quick, good fuck if they were bored enough.

Iris never wanted him. She only ever wanted one thing: security. And when she was married to a Prince, and had another wrapped around her finger? She could do no wrong in the eyes of the throne.

As he drove, the powerful beams of the headlights cast fleeting shadows across the road.

The palace loomed ahead, its silhouette a distant promise of refuge that seemed increasingly out of reach. The anger that coursed through him was a force unto itself, a seething urge that refused to be quelled.

As he approached the grand gates of the palace, his emotions were spilling all over the place. He only had one place in mind: Belleview Manor.

Rounding a corner in the dimly lit hallway of the palace, Rintaro came to an abrupt halt. The reaction of his body was instantaneous: his breath caught in his throat, his muscles locking into place. Before him stood the Queen, her regal presence magnified by the soft, flickering light of the sconces lining the walls. Her silhouette, framed by the rich, opulent draped and the gleaming marble floors, seemed almost otherworldly.

She stood there, unmoving, like she’d somehow known he would be coming any minute now.

Rintaro’s head pounded in his chest. Cold dread washed over him, an icy hand clutching at his insides. The Queen’s serene yet inscrutable expression was nothing but an act, that he knew. In reality, her expressions were alien and foreboding. Her eyes, deceptively warm and reassuring, stared back at him like dark abysses, their depth hinting at the hidden complexities and secrets Rintaro had never cared to consider before.

He felt as if the ground beneath him had shifted, his already unstable world rocked by the revelation of a hidden side to his mother that he never perceived.

He stood frozen, a tangible sense of fear and anger enveloping him as he confronted the unsettling truth: the queen, his mother, was a mystery he had never fully unraveled.

The secrets she harbored, once a vague notion in the back of his mind, now loomed large and menacing, casting a long shadow over his perception of her. The fear that gripped him was profound and disorienting, a jarring contrast to the reverence he had always felt. His whole life, he’d only wanted one thing – to please his mother, to make her proud, to be a Queen’s son worthy of becoming the next King. His whole life he’d only done what he was told.

But in that moment, he was consumed by the chilling realization that the mother he had known and loved was a stranger, and the weight of her concealed truths left him trembling with a profound, unsettling fear.

“You,” he breathed out, his fear now overtaken by his sight going red. He felt mocked, humiliated, used. “Why did you never tell me?”

The memory of that night on the beach was seared into his mind.

He could never forget it – Iris’ sneer, the way her lips curled in contempt, as though he were something beneath her. Her words had cut deep, bleeding into his every being until the truth pounded at his veins. She had looked at him with disdain, her eyes cold and unfeeling, as she spat out how she’d never wanted to be with him, how she’d used him to cure her loneliness. A rejection born from a sick, twisted confession.

And now that he’d fulfilled his purpose in the bleakness of her world, he was nothing more than a disposable distraction. She’d called him worthless, a joke, someone unworthy of her attention – a prince in name but never in her eyes. The wind had whipped around him, cloaked around him like a glacial storm, but it was her biting words that had left him feeling exposed and small.

She’d delivered a stab to his heart that no amount of time could erase.

I never wanted to be with someone like you in the first place.

Didn’t you know, Rin?

You were never the King’s son.

[kozumesphone]

✮⋆˙ 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄

⤷ percy jackson x emma (@riordanness)

masterlist | event m.list

♡ fandom | percy jackson and the olympians

♡ includes | songfic (sort of), joining luke, luke calling you by a nickname and being understanding (overall we get nice luke), betrayal, little fluff to angst, hurt with no comfort, swords, daggers, very mini fight scene, overall sadness, altering the timeline of the book a bit

♡ in which | emma has to betray percy in the tlt timeline (includes spoilers for whoever hasn’t read chapter 22 of tlt)

♡ a/n | omggg, I was on a writing hiatus, but this got me out of that slump fr. emercy are goals <33 anywayyy my heart hurts after writing emercy angst so I WILL make up for it by writing emercy fluff at some point (hopefully during the event itself).. enjoy this one tho!!

♡ wc | 1.02k

✮⋆˙ emma’s pov

it had been a long day after percy returned to camp, glorious, after his quest. after all, that’s what all demigods thirsted for: δόξα. glory.

as soon as my eyes met his, I practically ran into him. we toppled over because of all of the unexpected force, and he just laid there below me, holding me gently.

pressing kisses to my forehead and my cheeks. running his fingers through my hair. smiling at me, and taking me in.

“all right, lovebirds! chiron and the others want to talk to him too,” grover’s voice rang out from above us.

snapping out of my hazy dream-come-true, I get up slowly and reach my hand down for percy.

“hey princess,” he whispered, still holding me close, after he stood up.

“hey handsome…”

I loved having him in my arms, memorising the feel of his hands around my waist, his lips against mine. who knows when I’d get to feel it again, if ever?

✮⋆˙ percy’s pov

her eyes, hollow. smiles, forced.

what happened to her in the days I was gone?

timeskip

✮⋆˙ emma’s pov

as the campfire was dying, empty mugs of cocoa and packets of marshmallows lay in the trash bag behind the logs.

will and his siblings sang beautiful songs, played music, as all the campers joined in.

percy and I were huddled together on a log, warmth radiating off each other.

everyone said their ‘goodnight’s and ‘sweet dreams’ knowing well and good none of us would sleep without nightmares.

“wanna turn in for the night?” percy asked, pulling me up from our log.

I smiled at him and nod. we walk to cabin 3. he offers me a hoodie and I remain in my denim shorts, ready to leave as soon as he falls asleep.

we plop onto his bed, and he tells me everything about his quest, as I take him in. at one point, we begin cuddling as he continues talking.

“hey, perce?”

“mhm.”

“I love you. you’ll remember that forever, won’t you?”

“‘course I will. I know you do. I love you forever too, and I hope to find you in elysium, my love… you’re never leaving me, are you?”

“of course not, dumbass.”

scattered ‘cross my family line…

i’m so good at telling lies…

that came from my mother’s side…

told a million to survive…

“good. I don’t think I could go a day without you there to stop me from stapling my finger by mistake again.”

I let out a sudden laugh. “oh, what about that other time you-”

“I completely made a fool out of myself in front of everyone by tripping over air? whatever,” he rolled his eyes.

sometimes, I wish my mortal father hadn’t taught me to hide my sadness so well. too well. I suppose he did do a good job, at the end of the day.

timeskip

with one last look at percy’s sleeping form—oh, so peaceful and beautiful, my baby—I stepped out of the cabin with our picture frame from percy’s bedside, weighing heavy in my bag. my hair whipped around my face because of the wind, right outside cabin 3. I turned to luke, waiting for me. I noted a hint of sadness in his eyes as well.

scattered ‘cross my family line…

god, I have my father’s eyes…

but my sister’s when I cry…

“luke, please. I don’t know if I can do this,” I whispered, eyes burning with the fire of a thousand suns–bright enough to illuminate his face.

“we can’t stop now, em. not after we’ve worked so hard, for so long. we can’t let it all go to waste. I didn’t want you to do this with me either, because I know he could hate me with ease after a while, but you? never. he could never look at you with anything other than love, and i’m sorry I have to take you away from that,” luke said, with glistening eyes.

quietly, I nodded, not trusting my voice to not shake. luke looked in the direction of cabin 6, and turned to walk towards the portal. I followed him, as we walk into the woods.

I can run, but I can’t hide…

from my family line…

from my family line…

“i’m sorry, perce. I love you,” I whispered into the wind.

“then why are you leaving me?” a voice shook behind me, just as we reached the portal.

I turned around sharply.

“percy?”

“princ— emma. why?”

oh, all that I did to try to undo it…

all of my pain and all your excuses…

“it’s… a long story,” I hardened my gaze. “we’re done. i’m sorry.” if this was going to work, he had to hate me. hate me from the bottom of his heart. hate me enough to be able to send me to the depths of tartarus, if needed.

“are you stupid?– hey! luke! get away from her!” he yelled. luke and I moved closer to each other as my cold gaze rested on percy’s face. I registered the betrayal and hurt in his eyes, my heart breaking with every emotion flickering across his face. his face morphed into something emotionless, all of a sudden.

I was a kid but I wasn’t clueless…

someone who loves you wouldn’t do this…

“you know what, emma?” he spat. “I can no longer recognize you. and that’s not even the saddest part. it’s the fact that you no longer make any attempt to make me understand you.”

“for the daughter of the goddess of love, I clearly have none of it left to give,” I said, unsheathing my sword. luke’s backbiter glowed faintly behind me.

percy looked alarmed for a second, but took out annabeth’s dagger, startling luke.

they swung at each other, as I stood there. nicking at one another’s body. I rushed in to help luke, so we could escape soon. my face was in the middle of a swing percy sent luke’s way, and his dagger slid down my face.

oh, I deserved that.

all of my past, I tried to erase it…

but now I see, would I even change it…?

[blizzardstarx]

tw blood

@send-me-a-puffalope <3

Scattered ‘cross my family line

I’m so good at telling lies

That came from my mother’s side

Told a million to survive

Scattered across my family line

God, I have my father’s eyes

But my sister’s (brother’s) when I cry

I can run, but I can’t hide

From my family line

sort of reference photo for lighting:

redrawn scenes:

[jeannefostergoriot]

Family Line by Conan Gray X Fitz Vacker

(How didn’t I think of it sooner?)

« My father never talked a lot »: Alden… isn’t really open. Like. I doubt any of his kids, and even Della, ever knew what was happening, what he was doing, even when they were on missions.

« He just took a walk around the block »: keuf. That’s the secret missions. For the Council and for himself. That a kid can’t understand.

« Till all his anger took a hold of him, and he’d hit »: so. As I said for Driver’s Seat analysis, I doubt the cracks and the emotions go out as anger in the Lost Cities. Though it could happen, adding to the guilt that broke his mind. Yeah. Alden probably screamed. Criticized harshly without realizing. That’s the blows.

« My mother never cried a lot »: Della always stayed in the shadows. She says it herself, she isn’t known as standing up.

« She took the punches but she never fought »: that is about how Della never corrected Alden’s favoritism. She just compensated by caring more for Alvar and Biana.

« Till she said “I’m leaving and I’ll take the kids”, so she did »: that’s book 4. That’s Della joining the Black Swan.

« I say “They’re just the ones who gave me life” »: Fitz all throughout Flashback. Standing against his parents. Protesting.

« But I truly am my parents’ child »: but he can never undo the pressure, the legacy. Even his name, Fitz, that means « son of ». He’s what the Vackers made him.

« Scattered cross my family line »: the way the Vacker family is exploded. The ancestors. Alvar by the Neverseen. Alden and Della never truly close to their kids. Biana and Fitz raised in competition.

« I’m so good at telling lies »: he’s good at dissimulation, at tricking the world to appear fine.

« That came from my mother’s side »: dunno if Della lies. Probably yes. And she always gives the impression to be pretty delicate beauty, when she’s clearly a fighter (cf her registry pages in Unlocked)

« Told a million to survive »: not to survive but to keep the appearances up. Everything’s fine. There is no reason to worry.

« God, I have my father’s eyes »: Fitz has always been perceived as perfect heir. Miniature Alden.

« But my sister’s when I cry »: the fact that, with everything collapsing, Fitz and Biana grew closer throughout the series.

« I can run, but I can’t hide, from my family line »: that is the feeling that whatever he does, he will always be a Vacker. Seen as royal perfection.

« It’s hard to put it into words, how the holidays will always hurt »: it’s hard to admit in Glitter City that it’s not really perfect, expressing that is something they’ve never been taught.

« I watch the fathers with their little girls, and wonder what I did to deserve this »: I think I remember Fitz voicing that. Voicing that he doesn’t know why he is there, treated with so much respect and admiration and feeling so out of place.

« How could you hurt a little kid »: how could you turn me into a simple puppet and forget I have an identity ?

« I can’t forget, I can’t forgive you »: that’s to the whole family tree. The old ones that passed down the pressure and perfection-expectations for centuries.

« Cause now I’m scared that everyone I love will leave me ». This line is about how Fitz doesn’t know how to love. How to be stable. How to live.

« All that I did, I tried to undo it »: that he tried. Being perfect representation of the system? He joined the rebellion. Hurting Sophie and mistrusting her? He went through the whole process of Inquisition and accepted Sokeefe. Making Biana feel invisible? He talked with her in Flashback.

« All of my pain and all your excuses, I was a kid but I wasn’t clueless »: how living in both worlds made him stranger to everything, how he felt something was wrong with the missions, how he just wanted to make Alden proud.

« Someone who loves you wouldn’t do this »: to the system. To all the girls flirting with him without knowing. To his parents not understanding his fears.

« All of my past, I tried to erase it »: killing Alvar as erasing the pain. Joining the Black Swan as erasing the pressure. He is a runaway boy too, but it shows less.

« But now I see, would I even change it? »: I think he can learn to think like this. To be satisfied.

« Might share a face and share a last name, but we are not the same »: now. By Stellarlune, he knows. He knows he can have an identity and not be a copy of his father. He can not make the same mistakes.

[conjectureand-gloom]

“scattered ‘cross my family line, i’m so good at telling lies. that came from my mothers side, told a million to survive.”

i feel like that requires no explanation. just. alexander learning to lie about his home from his mother, the main victim of james’ abuse

“god i have my fathers eyes, but my sisters when i cry”

okay i know alexander doesn’t have a sister but. just. you get what i mean. i hope.

“i can run, but i can’t hide from my family line”

this is the biggest line i think. alexander tried for his whole life to seperate himself from the carribeans, to rise above and move along. he spent his whole life trying to erase himself from his past, and move up in the world. he spent his life running from his family and his hometown. but he can’t hide. he was always known for being a bastard, an immigrant, a son of a whore, as proved by all of burr’s introductions to him. he was always judged by his status of a bastard, always judged by his family. he can run from the truth as much as he wants, but he can’t hide from it

[no-see-um-incorrect]

I Think I Like Music

(Hush fic. All characters belong to redacted audio)

Doc wanted to figure out what hush’s likes and dislikes were. So they started with music, but when hush said that he doesn’t know what his favorite music is. doc took this as one of the best self discovery opportunities ever.

Doc: OK, I’m gonna put the headphones on now.I want you to give me a thumbs up or thumbs down for the volume OK?

Hush: I don’t really see a purpose to this 

Doc: i’m trying to help you find some music you enjoy! Something that you listen to that makes you happy.

Hush: well. you make me happy and I’m doing this with you, so I guess that counts for something  

Doc: OK, I’m gonna play one of my favorite songs to start all right. This is family line by Conan Gray. 

Hush places his hands on the over ear headphones as this song starts playing.

“my mother never cried a lot. She took the punches, but she never fought”

He gives a thumbs up to doc. And they slightly raise the volume.  hush’s head starts slowly, nodding up and down as the song continues 

“I’m so good at telling lies. That came from my mother side. told a million to survive”

He continues, listening intently, eyes closed, His hands tightly holding the headphones.  he signals to doc to turn up the volume. 

And they do.

He signals again, 

They turn it up more.

And again.

It’s up max volume.

Doc worries, the volume will hurt him, but he seems unbothered.

Until he opens his eyes.

“From my family line. from my family line. Oh. All that I did to try and undo it all of my pain and all your excuses. I was a kid, but I wasn’t clueless.  someone who loves you wouldn’t do this.  all of my past, I tried to erase it  but now I see, would I even change it? Might share a face and share a last name, but  we are not the same”

A single tear rolls down hush’s face. He wipes it away with his finger, and looks down at his hand. doc pauses the song.

Doc: hush… are you OK? 

Hush: I think that’s the first time I’ve ever cried…. I didn’t think I could. 

Doc: oh… do you need anything?… are you ok

Hush: why do humans listen to music that make them cry? 

Doc:…… well some people use music to cope with emotions or events…. different music helps different people with different things 

Hush: I think I like music I think that’s what this is….. it makes me feel something I have never felt before……. it’s quite a pleasant feeling. 

[vanderwoodlings]

If I’m being honest: an Eric van der Woodsen playlist (x)

Tracklist (and commentary!) under the cut

1. “Free To Decide,” The Cranberries. I'm free to decide, I'm free to decide/And I'm not so suicidal after all

1. “Free To Decide,” The Cranberries. I'm free to decide, I'm free to decide/And I'm not so suicidal after all

2. “12345,” Em Beihold. "You need a hug, are you alright?"/“Nobody's loved you much tonight"/Only the mirror tells me I'm fine

3. “Family Line,” Conan Gray. It was really this bit from the chorus that had me going for this one: I'm so good at telling lies/That came from my mother's side/Told a million to survive—but I think there’s really something to the way that Eric just has William written off when he shows up, and that takes a lot of emotional work to do that happens off-screen but I still think about very much

4. “Unsteady,” X Ambassadors. This playlist does kind of just embrace the cringe a little bit and I’m okay with that. Hold, hold on, hold on to me/‘Cause I'm a little unsteady, a little unsteady

5. “Dance Music,” The Mountain Goats. In which I will never be over the stuff that comes up in 2.07 about lily’s various exes

6. “I’m Not a Cynic,” Alec Benjamin. I swear that I'm not a cynic, my glass just has no water in it today

7. “Breaking Free,” Night Riots. I feel violent/Like I'm dying/I feel broken, maybe I'm just breaking free. [sticks a toothpick in the boy’s brain] uh yeah he’s not done yet

8. “Pressure,” Paramore. Seriously tho Eric during the year Serena was gone is so fucked up I wish the show had let us talk about him more. Some things I'll never know/And I had to let them go/I'm sitting all alone/Feeling empty

9. “Wouldn’t It Be Nice,” The Beach Boys. He is gay <3

10. “Creep,” Radiohead. He is gay and depressed

11. “Jason,” BONNIE PARKER. So yeah uh. Asher thing

12. “Shut Up!” Simple Plan.

13. “Inhaler,” Foals. I'm make believe/And I'm up for rent/My head is spent/I guarantee

14. “Hold Me While You Wait,” Lewis Capaldi. So tell me, can you turn around?/I need someone to tear me down.

15. “Blackbird,” The Beatles. Told you I was just going for it.

16. “Cursive,” Billie Marten. And we'll be fine, there is an end/It hurts to fall back again. There’s an ericfic on ao3 that I haven’t actually read, but it’s got a tag about fluctuating mental health and that definitely has the energy I was feeling here—he’s chronically depressed, and that is what it is

17. “Honesty,” Billy Joel. Okay but like. Fuck the UES. Honesty is such a lonely word/Everyone is so untrue

18. “Babel,” Mumford & Sons. Then the walls of my town, they come crumbling down/You ask where will we stand in the winds that will howl. When he says he’ll basically be ten feet away and then literally never appears again

19. “Heart Open,” Kodaline. Always on the outside, too afraid to open up, and talk/…/And you're not broken/So keep your heart open now

20. “Like a River Runs,” Bleachers. I’ve looped back around to thinking about that pre-series year again, a little bit. Tonight, I sit over the parkway/The summer's gone and I'm alone/And I get the feeling that you're somewhere close/And I wanna get up/To the rhythm of your wild, to the rhythm of your wild heart/It beats, been beating since you've gone

21. “Trenches,” Set Your Goals. You're falling in love with the skyline/Nothing comes for free:/Can you put a price on feeling satisfied?

22. “Lost Highway,” Bon Jovi. Yeah, I'm busting loose, I'm letting go/Out on this open road/It's independence day on this lost highway

23. “You Cannot,” Erin McKeown. You cannot cage me, I revolt/You cannot contain me, I bolt/I am not caught because/What I got, got you can't hold, hold

24. “Born to Run,” Bruce Springsteen. Seriously I just find it so interesting when characters actually leave on this show, and it’s even more so for Eric because of all the characters he actually grew up in the UES, and there’s this way that its played as something that traps you, and yet he just basically goes ‘no <3’

25. “Heart lines,” Florence + The Machine. Just keep following the heart lines on your hand/Keep it up, I know you can

26. “We Are Golden,” MIKA. Running around like a clown on purpose/Who gives a damn about the family you come from

27. “everything sucks,” vaultboy, Eric Nam. I really like this one in the way of just… it feels kind of comfortable. It isn’t being all the way up in the way that some of these songs are

28. “Evergreen,” Bears in Trees. But I must possess the thought, that progress is a process/And it ain't one step backward if you rotate your axis/Realize that a slip up is just part of the practice

29. “Hand in My Pocket,” Alanis Morissette. And what it all comes down to/Is that everything's gonna be fine, fine, fine

30. “Lights,” Journey. California!Eric my beloved

[neshionals]

Scattered 'cross my family line I'm so good at telling lies That came from my mother's side Told a million to survive Scattered 'cross my family line God, I have my father's eyes But my sister's when I cry I can run, but I can't hide From my family line

- Conan Gray, Family Line

Neshdan Nanku ( @/neshionals ) and Cordelia Kwan ( @cordeliakwan​ )

[bunniescribbles]

“I’m so good at telling lies, that came from my mothers side, told a million to survive”

[wreywrites]

Tiger Shark

Part 6: The Reef

Chapter 33

I am so wildly depressed. I don’t need Katniss’s mother to tell me that. But she does, with reassuring words and a kind smile and simple instructions to do something I enjoy even if it’s for ten minutes a day. I ask her if I can have some paper and a pencil. I want to draw.

That night, when I get back to 405 for the scheduled half-hour of down-time before supper, I find a whole empty notebook and three pencils on my bed. Katniss’s mother is the real hero in District Thirteen.

I don’t know how long we’ve been here.

~~~                               ~~~                               ~~~

Alvan tells me it has been three weeks since I moved into 405 as we leave the classroom after an hour lecture on nuclear history. I spent it making imaginary doodles, drawing on the desk with my finger. I couldn’t care less about nuclear history even before I lost everything that mattered.

We go down to lunch and sit at our usual spot at the end of the long table. Gloss takes the end, I sit next to him, and Alvan sits across from him. We’ve found it works best to create a buffer between Gloss and everyone else. He’s the least popular person I know of in Thirteen and most people will sit literally anywhere other than next to him.

Today, though, a little boy with that distinct Twelve look sits down next to Alvan across from me. A slightly younger boy sits next to him, and a tiny girl sits next to me. About a minute later, a woman who can only be their mother sits next to the girl, and a young man joins the boys. Him I think I recognize, but in the stupidest possible way.

“You’re Katniss’s cousin. The one they interviewed during her Games.”

He looks confused for half a second, then nods.

“You’re not really her cousin.”

An impressed grin flashes across his face. “I’m not.” Then he leans forward, stretching a hand across the table. “Gale Hawthorne.”

I shake the offered hand. “Annie Cresta.”

“I know,” he says, still friendly. I can tell he doesn’t care about all the stuff that comes with me being Annie Cresta. He just cares that I’m here, and that even crazy Annie could see through the Capitol’s lies about him. Then Gale’s gaze flickers to my side and I glance over to see the little girl staring at me.

“Posy,” the woman says, “We don’t stare.”

Posy ignores her and instead says, with the widest eyes I have ever seen, “Your hair is beautiful.”

I smile. If these little kids aren’t terrified of us, maybe life isn’t so bad. “Thank you.”

One of the boys next to her says, “Is it true you treaded water for eight hours?”

The woman turns to glare at him. “Rory, give the poor girl some peace. The last thing she needs is reminded of that horrible time.”

Rory hangs his head. “I was just wondering. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s alright,” I say. I may as well get used to people asking questions like this. At least they’re talking to me. And sitting with us. And at least kids don’t judge. “I did. It made me really glad I was good at swimming.”

“What’s your favorite kind of fish?” the other boy blurts. “We only had one kind we ever ate in Twelve and it wasn’t very good.”

The woman seems to have given up. “Vick…” she sighs.

Down the table, Gale is chuckling. “Sorry about them. When we came in, I told them who you were and now they have a million questions.”

I smile. “That’s fine.” I lean toward Vick. “They’re not technically a fish, but shrimp are my favorite. Spicy shrimp rolls on a rainy winter day… mmmmmm.”

“What do they taste like?” Rory jumps back in.

I frown. What do shrimp taste like? How do I explain them to this poor kid from Twelve? Shrimp taste like whatever you cook them in, which is usually butter and garlic, at least in my house. “Butter and garlic,” I say.

He’s an octopus, he’ll taste like whatever I cook him in. Beck and Mags are laughing at an indignant Finnick. I laugh with them. The great Finnick Odair, reduced to a terrified quivering mass by an annoyed cephalopod.

“Annie?”

I snap to attention. All three of the kids are staring at me. Wide-eyed, I turn to Alvan.

He gives me a reassuring smile. “It’s okay. We’re here. You’re safe.”

I don’t know what happened and I’m not about to ask, but the sudden silence around the table means it unnerved these poor kids. All they wanted was to learn unimportant little details about me, and instead they got full-sails crazy.

Gale saves us from the impending silence. He leans forward around the boys and says to Alvan, “Alvan, right?”

Alvan nods, leaning back and extending a hand around Rory and Vick. “Pleased to meet ya.”

“You too.” Gale shakes his hand. “Met Dalton yet? He came up here from Ten a few years ago, I guess.”

“Yeah, turns out I used to work for his uncle.”

Alvan and Gale dissolve into some discussion about raising cattle, and Vick and Rory quickly get bored with that and start telling me all about themselves.

“I smashed my finger yesterday!” Vick says.

“Smashed your finger?” I slip into that intense interest that I haven’t used since the last time I saw Cassia Vickers. I start to wonder what is happening to her these days, but force myself to pay attention to the boys across from me.

Vick nods, holding his hand up so I can see the blackened fingernail on his pointer finger. “My class was helping carry supplies from one level to another and I got bumped around and smashed it between the box and the wall.”

“You must be pretty tough,” I say.

He puffs up. “I am.”

“So am I!” Rory says. “I won the wrestling contest for my class last year at school!”

“Did you?”

Rory and Vick spend the next twenty minutes telling me about their various achievements and leaving me little time to respond, which means I can just listen and eat my flavorless soup and handful of grapes and nod or gasp when appropriate.

When our scheduled lunch time is over, we all stand.

“Rory, Vick, Posy, it was nice to meet you.” I give them another smile, then glance at the woman. “And… I’m sorry…” I don’t remember hearing her name, but as reliable as my mind is, it’s hard to tell.

“Hazelle,” she smiles. “I’m Gale’s mom. And these three’s,” she rolls her eyes affectionately.

That makes sense. “It was nice to meet you too, Hazelle.”

She nods. “You too, Annie. You’re always welcome to eat with us, if you can stand it.” Then she extends her smile to Alvan and Gloss. “And you two as well. We know what it’s like to be the outsiders.”

~~~                               ~~~                               ~~~

Our meal times don’t always match up with the Hawthorne family’s, but when they do, we make sure to sit together. Those kids are amazing, and I tell Hazelle as much one day when they leave before the rest of us to get to class.

“I’m serious. Nobody else will even look at Gloss, and they’re not much better to me and Alvan.”

“I know,” she says, sounding sad. “It’s hard to… Twelve had nothing. It’s hard to look at a Career being mopey and feel bad for him. And Alvan… I know what happened to him, but… he did kill his District counterpart, and that’s hard to overlook in the poor districts. But the kids,” now she smiles, “the kids don’t know that. They just want to hear about life in other places. And now that I know what you’re all like, it's much easier for me too.” Hazelle puts a hand on my shoulder. “I wish you all the best, Annie.”

~~~                               ~~~                               ~~~

Peeta is on TV, talking to Caesar Flickerman. Peeta is alive. Caesar asks him a question, but all I hear is, “Mags! You wouldn’t lie to us. Do you eat whale in District Four?”

No one has any idea how many victors are still alive, after twelve of them were lined up and shot. The Capitol hasn’t announced any deaths among the others, but maybe they wouldn’t. Or maybe they did and I forgot. Or faded out and didn’t hear. All of those people. My friends. Where are they? What’s happening to them?

~~~                               ~~~                               ~~~

The next day, we are all called to an assembly in the Collective, a huge room that easily holds the thousands of people who show up. It had to have been built for large gatherings, but since the pox epidemic that Dalton told us about at supper either yesterday or three weeks ago, they can’t have had any need for such a large space. Now that everyone except those with essential jobs are gathered together, I can see how widespread the fallout from the pox is. There are scars everywhere, and the children are few and far between, and most of them slightly disfigured.

Then Coin approaches the podium, calls us to attention, and begins. In the shortest speech I have ever heard, she tells us that Katniss has agreed to be the Mockingjay, provided the victors we lost to the Capitol—Peeta—the crowd is unimpressed by this—Finnick, Johanna, Cecelia, Cashmere—here she starts to lose the crowd to rumbles of dissent—Brutus, and Enobaria—as well as any other victors that are still alive and in the Capitol’s control, will be granted full pardon for any damage they do to the rebel cause.

The crowd’s hostility grows. I can tell exactly where Katniss is standing among them by following the funnel of angry looks.

But Alvan turns to Gloss and me, smiling broadly as he mutters, “Hear that? They’re takin’ care’a y’all.”

Indeed they seem to be. I smile as well. Katniss has demanded Peeta back for herself, but she has also demanded Finnick and Johanna, and Cashmere for Gloss, and Cecelia, and even Brutus and Enobaria, who tried to kill us.

Katniss Everdeen is perhaps not so unfriendly and aloof as the Capitol would have had the rest of the victors believe.

Coin goes on. “But in return for this unprecedented request, Soldier Everdeen has promised to devote herself to our cause. It follows that any deviation from her mission, in either motive or deed, will be viewed as a break in this agreement. The immunity would be terminated and the fate of the victors determined by the law of District Thirteen. As would her own. Thank you.”

Now I hope Katniss is good at listening to instructions and playing the game. Because I’m not losing them again.

~~~                               ~~~                               ~~~

We are all quiet at supper that night. Even Posy, Vick, and Rory.

Finally, even though I know a discussion of hypotheticals won’t make me feel better, or guarantee Katniss will play nice with Coin, I look at Alvan. “Why didn’t you go after them too?”

“Katniss was never my job.”

I frown. He was in on it though, wasn’t he?

Alvan smiles a little, reaches across the table, and squeezes one of my hands. “You were my job. We knew you’d stick with Finnick, but we knew he might have to chase down Katniss or somethin’, so we needed someone-”

“Someone I’d trust.” I smile back at him. “Thank you.”

~~~                               ~~~                               ~~~

The next morning, our wrist schedules don’t print the usual nightmare of classes and organized exercise. Instead, it is breakfast, and then Command.

“That’s new.” Gloss frowns at his.

I nod, watching mine print on as well. “You think we did something wrong?”

Alvan shakes his head. “I think Coin remembered she’s got more victors. They’re gonna make us an offer.”

“Or a threat,” Gloss says darkly.

“’N’ what’ll ya do if they do?” Alvan asks as we leave 405 to go to breakfast. “Tell ’em no? With nothin’ to bargain with?”

We eat breakfast in silence. I am digesting what Alvan said, and what he didn’t say, what was left on the fringes. I have less than nothing to bargain with. All I have is things they can use against me.

I’m not Katniss.

~~~                               ~~~                               ~~~

We enter Command together, after showing both guards the schedules on our wrists, and a third guard checking something on his computer. Apparently after the stunts Gloss and I tried to pull, they’re keeping tighter tabs on us when it comes to what rooms we try to get into.

Inside, sitting around a rectangular table, surrounded by TV screens, are Coin and her bodyguard, whose name I don’t know, Plutarch, and his assistant Fulvia. Coin gives us her best look of neutral displeasure.

Plutarch, however, smiles and gestures for us to sit.

I sit in my usual spot next to Gloss, like I would at meals, only to find Alvan sitting down on my other side.

You were my job.

Alvan apparently takes his jobs very seriously.

I brace for terrible news, for threats against my family and friends, for everything Snow has said and would have said if he’d had one more meeting with me.

What I get is something entirely unexpected.

Coin leans forward, steepling her fingers in front of her chin as she leans her elbows on the table and scrutinizes us. “Will you fight?” she asks.

I blink.

“Fight?”

“What?”

Plutarch jumps in. “We have our Mockingjay. We have…” he takes a deep breath, “Haymitch, who knows how to work with her, and is very smart despite how he sometimes acts. We have Beetee, developing weapons and technology. And we have you three.”

I want to make some joke about how we’re the two they didn’t want and one they wanted the rest of us to kill, but Plutarch goes on.

“You are victors,” he says.

This feels like a trap. Like I just ran out of water tablets and Plutarch is promising me more if only I’ll walk around this blind corner, jump into this murky water, swim into this cave. He is a Gamemaker, after all. I frown.

“Why?” Alvan asks quietly. “Ya got your Mockingjay. Haven’t we fought enough?”

Coin opens her mouth, but Plutarch beats her to it. “We don’t need you to go to the front lines. We just need you to look like you’re fighting. We need your faces and your support.”

“You need us to be your Peeta,” I say, surprising even myself.

Plutarch nods. “If the districts see other victors standing up with Katniss… Well, it could turn the tide.”

“I’m not the moon, Plutarch.”

“Agreed, but everyone loved the Tiger Shark.”

His statement hangs in the air for a while.

I look at the table, thinking. I’m not sure I can trust myself to do anything. It’s not life-or-death anymore, something I have to do to survive, and I don’t have Finnick to keep me grounded.

Finnick.

Like I’ve willed him into existence, I see his name on the table. I frown. Then I realize it is Coin’s speech from last night. The hard copy, laying here on the table in front of us, a promise and a threat, hanging over our heads.

I nod.

“I s’pose,” Alvan says. “Who knows what y’all’ll do to me ’f I don’t.”

“Yeah,” Gloss says.

“Excellent!” Plutarch claps his hands together. “Fulvia, we’ll need those costumes as soon as possible, and we’ll have to get with Beetee for weapons, and-”

Coin is still giving us the neutral look of displeasure.

“What?” Alvan frowns back at her. “Y’ain’t so sure now that ya got us?”

The neutral look of displeasure deepens to a real frown. “You may be victors to the rest of Panem, but here you are citizens like the rest of us. I assure you, I have made no promises to anyone for your safety. It would be unfortunate if I had to arrange for an accident to befall any of you if you were no longer useful.” Then she stands and leaves.

Alvan stares after her. Gloss stares through the table.

My hands are shaking. I’ve heard this before.

It didn’t matter what they threatened her with. It never has. I guess this was the easiest solution.

The door closes.

“I don’t want to be Megary,” I whisper, before I can stop myself.

“Ya won’t.” Alvan grabs my wrist. “Hear me, Annie? No more Megarys.”

Gloss’s head whips around to stare at Plutarch. “I’ve played this game before,” he growls, “and I don’t want to play it again.”

Plutarch watches us for several seconds. Then he nods, very slowly. “Nothing bad will happen to any of you, I give you my word. And I won’t let President Coin threaten any of your people to make you cooperate.”

“I don’t have anyone she can get hold of, Plutarch,” Alvan snaps. “That’s the only reason I’m still fightin’.” Then he stands up and storms toward the door.

I follow, Gloss right behind me.

~~~                               ~~~                               ~~~

Fulvia tracks us down in minutes and sends us down to Special Weaponry, where four guards verify our identities, and Fulvia’s, in four different ways, before finally letting us through the door.

Beetee, sitting in a wheelchair, meets us inside. “I see you decided to join up,” he says with something close to a smile. He turns his gaze to Fulvia. “Thank you, Fulvia, that will be all.”

Fulvia nods and leaves.

“This way.” Beetee wheels away, off toward a wall with a big work table in front of it. On the table is an assortment of knives, two swords, and two spears. On the wall hangs what I can only call a cornucopia’s worth of weapons.

I catch myself approaching the table, trailing my fingers along one of the copper-colored spears.

“They collapse,” Beetee says. “I wanted them to be as easy to carry as possible, should you need it.” He picks up the spear near the point. “Just twist-” he twists the top eight inches one way, and the rest of it the other way, “-here.” The spear sucks in on itself, shrinking to maybe eighteen inches long, with the point still sharp and ready. It’s still a weapon, but now it’s a shank. Beetee passes me the other spear and lets me collapse it myself, then expand both by twisting them the other way.

I nod. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. I hope the weights are correct.”

I hold one, feeling out the balance. “A little heavy, but I’m a little out of fighting shape.”

Beetee gestures down the room, to a dummy range down the long wall.

“Hm.” I heft the spear in my hand, take a few steps forward in a wind-up, and hurl the spear toward one of the training dummies. The spear sinks into its stomach with a satisfying thump. I smile. At least I won’t be defenseless when Coin tries to make me into Megary.

I throw spears—my own collapsible pair and a half-dozen normal spears Beetee has laying around—while Beetee talks Alvan through the pair of swords and their slight differences and Gloss through his choice of throwing knives, and a nice belt to carry them on.

Before too long, Gloss is next to me at the dummy range, throwing knives with an accuracy that is both terrifying and comforting. I tell myself the dummies are fish. Big swordfish, on the line for hours, on the fight. It’s easier that way.

We only quit when it’s time for supper. My muscles are pleasantly sore. And I have no idea what they want us to do with our new toys that we had to leave locked down in Special Weaponry.

****

****

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Tag List:

@avoxrising @snow-dragon-rider @anakins-ride-or-die

[hellsmouthhq]

〈 louis partridge  ›  cis man  ›  he/him  ›  23 〉  ———   a grand welcome to the vieux carré, WARREN MEARS JR. with a city as diverse as this, there’s a new threat on almost every corner. being a WITCH might provide some protection but their biggest strength may come from being loyal to THE RESISTANCE. many see them as a  POET which is why SAY THEY’RE JUST THE ONES WHO GAVE ME LIFE / BUT I TRULY AM MY PARENTS CHILD / SCATTERED CROSS MY FAMILY LINE / I’M SO GOOD AT TELLING LIES / THAT CAME FROM MY MOTHER’S SIDE / TOLD A MILLION TO SURVIVE / SCATTERED CROSS MY FAMILY LINE / GOD I HAVE MY FATHER’S EYES / BUT MY SISTERS WHEN I CRY / I CAN RUN / BUT I CAN’T HIDE / FROM MY FAMILY LINE seems to fit them perfectly. whispers say they’re from the FUTURE. can it all be believed? just keep an eye on them and see if their true colors shine through.   /   m<3

〈 jacob anderson  ›  cis man  ›  he/him  ›  200 something 〉  ———   a grand welcome to the vieux carré, ANGEL. with a city as diverse as this, there’s a new threat on almost every corner. being a VAMPIRE might provide some protection but their biggest strength may come from being loyal to ANGEL INVESTIGATIONS. many see them as a  KING which is why IF THERE’S NO GREAT GLORIOUS END TO ALL THIS, IF NOTHING WE DO MATTERS, THEN ALL THAT MATTERS IS WHAT WE DO, CAUSE THAT’S ALL THERE IS seems to fit them perfectly. whispers say they’re from the PAST. can it all be believed? just keep an eye on them and see if their true colors shine through.   /   m<3

〈 kassius nelson  ›  non-binary  ›  they/them  ›  22 〉  ———   a grand welcome to the vieux carré, ARTEMIS 'ARTIE' GERARD-MIKAELSON. with a city as diverse as this, there’s a new threat on almost every corner. being a WITCH might provide some protection but their biggest strength may come from being loyal to THE MIKAELSONS. many see them as a  SOLDIER which is why GIVE ME THE OPEN MIND I HAD BEFORE / I MISS THE DAYS WHEN ONE WAS BETTER THAN THE LAST / I MISS THE TASTE OF GROWING PAINS I KNEW WOULD PASS seems to fit them perfectly. whispers say they’re from the FUTURE. can it all be believed? just keep an eye on them and see if their true colors shine through.   /   m<3

───── WELCOME TO THE DARK SIDE OF NEW ORLEANS.────        a  supernatural  playground  where  the  living  are  easily  lost,  and  the  dead  stick  around  to  play.  please  send  in  your  account  within  24  hours  or  your  role  will  be  reopened.  if  you  have  interest  in  the  discord,  send a message  to  the  main.

[many-gay-magpies]

SCATTERED ‘CROSS MY FAMILY LINE, I’M SO GOOD AT TELLING LIES. THAT CAME FROM MY MOTHER’S SIDE; TOLD A MILLION TO SURVIVE. SCATTERED ‘CROSS MY FAMILY LINE; GOD, I HAVE MY FATHER’S EYES (BUT MY SISTER’S WHEN I CRY). I CAN RUN BUT I CAN’T HIDE FROM MY FAMILY LINE. OHHH ALL THAT I DID TO TRY TO UNDO IT ALL OF MY PAIN AND ALL YOUR EXCUSES I WAS A KID BUT I WASN’T CLUELESS (SOMEONE WHO LOVES YOU WOULDN’T DO THIS!!!!!!). ALL OF MY PAST I TRIED TO ERASE IT BUT NOW I SEE, WOULD I EVEN CHANGE IT? MIGHT SHARE A FACE AND SHARE A LAST NAME BUT (WE ARE NOT THE SAME). !!!

[literallyivvy]

BUT CONAN GRAYS SONG “family line” OH MY GOD

“scattered cross my family line

i’m so good at telling lies

that came from my mothers side

told a million to survive”

OH MY GOD. THOSE LYRICS. AGDGAHSGSD

BRO OMFG REAL ???(im literally a compulsive liar from my mom)

[purple-haven]

[和訳] Family Line by Conan Gray

一昨年の大雪の日、初めてカウンセリングルームの扉を叩きました���泣き腫らした目で駅前のドトールの窓から雪がはらはら落ちるのを見ながら、「家族についてこれからじっくり教えてください」と言われたことを何度も反芻した時のことを今でも昨日のように思い出すことができます。 ���り合いの悪い父親に「出ていけ」と言われる前に実家を出てから、もう2年以上が経ちます。カウンセリングを受けて少しずつ整理してきた感覚と、怒りと悲しみと虚しさと苦しみ。横浜でのコンサートで “I had a bad childhood”と切り出したConanと、雪の中大泣きする自分の姿が重なるようです。

My father never talked a lot

父は無口な人だった

He just took a walk around the block

ただ近所を歩き回るだけ

‘Til all his anger took a hold of him

怒りが父を支配すると

And then he’d hit

家に戻ってきては殴った

My mother never cried a lot

母は泣かない人だった

She took the punches, but she never fought

拳を受けても反撃さえしなかった

'Til she said, “I'm leaving and I'll take the kids”

「子供を連れて出ていくから」と言うまでは

So she did

そして去るまでは

I say, “They're just the ones who gave me life”

あの人たちはただ自分が生まれるきっかけというだけ、そう言い聞かせるも

But I truly am my parents’ child

それでも　やっぱりあの親の子供なんだ

Scattered ‘cross my family line

そこらじゅうに血縁の呪い

I’m so good at telling lies

僕は嘘をつくのがうまい

That came from my mother’s side

これは母から譲り受けたもの

Told a million to survive

星の数ほど嘘をついてきた　生き残るために

Scattered ‘cross my family line

そこらじゅうに血縁の呪い

God, I have my father’s eyes

この目は父親の目だ

But my sister’s when I cry

でも泣くと姉さんの目になる

I can run, but I can't hide

逃げられても隠れられない

From my family line

血縁の呪いからは

It's hard to put it into words

うまく言葉にできないけれど

How the holidays will always hurt

休暇は常に苦しいもので

I watch the fathers with their little girls

父親たちとその娘たちを見るたびに

And wonder what I did to deserve this

僕が何をしたって言うんだと思ったりして

How could you hurt a little kid?

よく平気だね　小さい子供をあんなふうに傷つけて

I can't forget, I can't forgive you

忘れられないし許せるわけがない

'Cause now I'm scared that everyone I love will leave me

「愛する人はみんな去っていく」と思ってしまう　お前のせいで

Scattered ‘cross my family line

そこらじゅうに血縁の呪い

I’m so good at telling lies

僕は嘘をつくのがうまい

That came from my mother’s side

これは母から譲り受けたもの

Told a million to survive

星の数ほど嘘をついてきた　生き残るために

Scattered ‘cross my family line

そこらじゅうに血縁の呪い

God, I have my father’s eyes

この目は父親の目だ

But my sister’s when I cry

でも泣くと姉さんの目になる

I can run, but I can't hide

逃げられても隠れられない

From my family line

血縁の呪いからは

From my family line

血縁の呪いからは

Oh-oh

All that I did to try to undo it

なかったことにしようとしてきた

All of my pain and all your excuses

過去の痛みもお前の苦しい言い訳も

I was a kid, but I wasn’t clueless

子供だったけど、何もわからなかったわけじゃない

(Someone who loves you wouldn’t do this)

愛しているならあんなことはしない

All of my past, I tried to erase it

過去を全部消し去ろうとしてきた

But now I see, would I even change it?

でも今更、変えることさえ難しい

Might share a face and share a last name but

同じ顔同じ名字でも

(We are not the same, same)

僕はお前じゃないしお前は僕じゃない

Scattered ‘cross my family line

そこらじゅうに血縁の呪い

I’m so good at telling lies

僕は嘘をつくのがうまい

That came from my mother’s side

これは母から譲り受けたもの

Told a million to survive

星の数ほど嘘をついてきた　生き残るために

Scattered ‘cross my family line

そこらじゅうに血縁の呪い

God, I have my father’s eyes

この目は父親の目だ

But my sister’s when I cry

でも泣くと姉さんの目になる

I can run, but I can't hide

逃げられても隠れられない

From my family line

血縁の呪いからは

From my family line

血縁の呪いからは

.