#tragic found family you wound me

[atomikats]

sometimes i remember law has a father

[a-shade-of-blue]

Hi everyone. Mohammed Khalil (@ahmed0khalil) has asked me to share his story, and I’m writing on his behalf. Mohammed created the donation campaign for his little brother 6-year-old Ahmed, and he aims to raise funds to evacuate his family of 8. You can see in his blog how much he loves and worries for 6-year-old Ahmed. Mohammed is only 19 years old. This is not normal. He should have been in school, not begging for our attention to try and raise enough funds so that they can buy food, water, medicine, and a chance to evacuate to safety.

In Gaza, where the sounds of bombing blend with the cries of children, Mohammed and Ahmed's family experienced days they never imagined they would endure. Mohammed (19) and Ahmed (6) have four other siblings: Fathi, Aya, Anas and Abdullah. Aya (21) is a uni nursing student and Anas (15) is also a school student. Neither of them can study anymore with the current genocide. This war is especially hard on Fathi (23), who is blind and suffering from coronary artery disease, Abdullah (11) who is autistic and does not understand what is happening, and Ahmed (6), a small child who had barely started kindergarten before his education came to a halt.

The destruction that struck the area left them with no place to live. The sounds of explosions fill the horizon, and the homes that once sheltered them have become piles of rubble. They suddenly found themselves outside their home, homeless.

The bombing not only destroyed their home, but also severely injured Mohammed. Mohammed was sitting at the entrance of the school his family was sheltering in when three bombs were dropped in front of him. The bombs destroyed a residential tower in front of Mohammed. Dust filled the air and the resulting rubble and shrapnel fell on Mohammed, injuring him in the leg. Mohammed was so severely wounded that he could not walk, and he had to lie there, hurt and bleeding, for 2 hours before the Palestinian Red Crescent came and carried him to the hospital.

The bombing shattered the glass in the school Mohammed and his family was staying at, but thankfully the children sustained no serious injuries. Soon after, they were asked to evacuate the school immediately as there were news that the IOF were going to bomb the Abbas prison near it. And so even though Mohammed was wounded, he could not rest and wait for his leg to heal, but had to leave again with his family.

Now they are living in a small tent in a refugee camp. Mohammed told me that they had to bathe in polluted water and the place smelled of sewage and corpses. Camp life was difficult not only because of the scarcity of food, the infectious disease, and the polluted water, but also because of the psychological torture they endure. Looking at all the devastation, and how the world seems indifferent to their suffering, Mohammed told me that they, including young innocent 6-year-old Ahmed, had begun to lose hope for a better future.

Internet is unstable and often lacking in the refugee camp. Mohammed is using the precious time when Internet is available to tell me his story. I hope you will not turn away their calls for help. They urgently need donations to provide for shelter, food, and medicine, as well as to evacuate out of Gaza. Donations are coming in really slowly for Mohammed’s campaign, and I beg all of you, please, don't turn a blind eye to his story. 

Mohammed’s campaign has been shared by 90-ghost and I’ve also been talking extensively with him. He is a very nice person and he just really wants to help his family survive. Please, please, help Mohammed evacuate himself, his 5 siblings and his parents! Little 6-year-old Ahmed does not deserve to live in fear of falling bombs every day, and neither does Mohammed and the rest of his family. 

Really low funds! Only €1,185 raised of €50,000 target!!

Please share/reblog and donate to help a family of 8! These are children we are talking about, and my heart breaks for what they have to endure.

Please follow Mohammed and Ahmed on @ahmed0khalil to get updates on their situation!

[yanderestarangel]

Will there possibly be any more Tio Miguel O’Hara au???

𝐌𝐈 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 ┆ 𝐓𝐈𝐎 𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐋 𝐎'𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀 - 𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐘

꒰∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ ── Hi guys, I remembered I have a blog, hehe:3

˖ ࣪⊹ ִ┈┈┈┈ ♰ ┈┈┈┈ ⊹ ִֶָ𓂅

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ "Before you, silence and emptiness for me were like an open, painful wound that stained my clothes a calloused, uncomfortable red. But with you, silence became just a space to be filled with your laughter and ethereal presence. My thoughts turn to you, my sweet nephew, loose and deliberate... I really shouldn't feel this way, but you don't know how much it affects me just by you being you." - 𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘: 𝓽𝓲𝓸 𝓶𝓲𝓰𝓾𝓮𝓵.

˖ ࣪⊹ ִ┈┈┈┈ ♰ ┈┈┈┈ ⊹ ִֶָ𓂅

➜ This AU will probably become a fic with non-linear chapters, that is, I will post in non-chronological order of the canonical events that happened. [ There will be several alt. routes and you can suggest more ideas about this AU. ]

˖ ࣪⊹ ִ┈┈┈┈ ♰ ┈┈┈┈ ⊹ ִֶָ𓂅

★☆ Notes: This is a work of dark romance/content, please do not read if you are a sensitive person, I am not romanticizing abuse or abusive relationships, this is just fiction.

♡ ┆ TW: written in the form of a poem, corruption, step!incest, dark romance, ftm reader, abusive relationship, mourning, dumbfication, manipulation, age gap, eat out, creampie, sex without a condom, dub con, afab anatomy

You weren't so naive as to not notice your Tio's lascivious gaze on your body ─ especially when you wore short, white dresses on hot days, your skin shone with a thin layer of sweat while your curves were otherwise hidden by thicker fabrics and dense spaces were exposed to the world and the cowboy's dark eyes.

The same lips that kissed you so innocently one day, held the hot tongue that would bring your ruin filled with lust. He had a negligent look, a harsh air, he was the same man who had made you taste the fruit of forbidden desire ─ far from everything and everyone, you two did not share the innocent courtship of being just a nephew and uncle... But before for you to stop like a whore, with your legs open for someone you swore would never feel anything... It hadn't started like that.

Desire, like all things in the world, had to have an origin, guidance and explanation ── everything could have started with the cruel grief of losing the wife that Miguel loved so much, the woman's name was not even uttered by his mouth, the same painful memory of lost nights of empty promises cut by the tragic and sharp scythe of death and destiny. The tanned-skinned man spent nights questioning the direction of his life and the classic question: "why me?".

Without an answer however, he sank even deeper into his own mind, the emptiness of his home now without a wife and the future children that were idealized by both of them had not come to fruition.

A foolish, lost and purposeless man was what he was.

So, just as the devil tries to make sin, he had finally found something that filled the void that was once held in his hard and dirty soul ── you. He tried to repress these feelings, it wasn't love, it wasn't a pure and polished love, it was a corrupted feeling of possession and obsession ─ he wanted to control your life, control you and make you his forever, trap you somewhere where you would stay safe from the dangers of the dirty world where they lived; but he himself was this dirt.

Then, slowly he began to enter your life even more like a parasite implanting the dirty thoughts you would later have about him. Taking you away from your family and manipulating everything and everyone into believing that he was the best person to take care of you ─ after all, he was just a concerned Tio... Or not?

Like a waltz with the devil, it all began that hot summer night with a dance ─ without protests and murmurs of complaints you followed him to an isolated place where your family's celebration was taking place that night, the warm orange light coming from the old tile ceiling warmed your cheeks and made you blush even more under the brunette's deep gaze.

Miguel watched as you moved to the music, his gaze mesmerized by the fluidity of your movements. A soft smile graced his lips as he took in the sight before him- the youthful vigor and elegance you possessed. He couldn’t help but be drawn to you, even if it sometimes stirred up a whirlwind of conflicting emotions within him.

He wasn't just your tio, was he? No more, if he ever was to begin. His large hand caressed his waist, gently but firmly gripping the fabric of your blouse soft under his touch. His thumb brushed against his back, effortlessly guiding you through the dance.

"My precious angel", he murmured, his voice practically low. "You look like a dream, like a celestial being that has somehow landed among us mortals. It makes me want to take that dream and hold on to it forever."

He brought you closer, as if he was going to devour you ─ He moved like a predator, he looked at you like a predator... He was a predator.

Tio Miguel's lips traced a burning path along the sensitive skin of your neck, each kiss leaving a trail of heat as his hands slid down and squeezed your ass possessively. His breath was hot against your skin, a mix of whiskey and desire that sent shivers down your spine. His moans were hoarse, filled with a primal hunger.

He pulled back slightly, dark eyes ablaze with lust, his gaze falling to your chest, where your breasts strained against the fabric of your blouse. The hunger in his eyes was almost palpable, tacit and obscure, there was no point in running and maybe you didn't even want to escape, it was like a tempting trap that would hurt you deliciously.

"Mi prince," he rasped, his voice rough with need. "You're so beautiful. So fuckin' beautiful."

He let out a low chuckle, the sound dark and predatory, as he grabbed your waist with one hand and pressed you against him. His hardness nudging between your legs, making you aware of his desire for you.

"Let's go somewhere more private, mi vida. It's time to show you just how much I want you." His lips crushed against yours, the intensity of your kiss staggering. His tongue thrust into your mouth, tangling with yours, the taste of whiskey and raw desire overwhelming. His hands moved with purpose, tugging at your clothes, urgently trying to rid you of any barriers between you both. He nibbled gently at your lips, pulling back to whisper against your mouth.

"Don't fight me, mi chico guapo. We both know you want this." With a low growl, he pulled you close once more, your lips crushing against his as your hands moved with purpose. His fingers expertly explored your soft body, teasing and coaxing you to the edge of pleasure. As his thumb brushed your clit, he swallowed your moans, his own desire heightened by the sacred taboo of his actions.

"Tell me if you want me to stop, my life. But I can't promise I will." Miguel said, but you both had the idea that that wasn't what was going to happen, especially when his tongue licked your pink flesh so well and made your legs tremble around his head ── his calloused and warm hands separated the flesh again softness of your thighs, making your breasts bounce and you tremble and whimper slyly for more.

Sin was good, so you two were condemned to a hell of unlimited pleasure and lust, without judgmental looks from others. Just you and your dear Tio Miguel. You moaned dirty, incoherent sentences, just looking for more friction with the other man's mouth, you were both moaning with need ─ you were both a mess of repressed desire and unthought-out consequences.

Your tio's hot tongue left your entrance, but before any scream of protest you saw him take off his pants quickly and lower them to his knees, exposing his muscular thighs and his thick cock with veins pulsing strongly, the smell of musk filled your nose as you felt the heat radiate from the older man’s member.

Uncle Miguel's cock pulsed as it passed your entrance, the swollen head teasing your clit before entering your comfortable, warm pussy. Every inch of their sensitive flesh reveled in the forbidden embrace, eagerly awaiting the moment they would finally become one. He growled softly, muscles tensing as he thrust inside, filling you with his thick erection.

Miguel's grip enveloped you like a vice, the sensation overwhelming you both-- his eyes locked with yours, the intensity of the connection incendiary, as he slowly advanced. His size made him feel huge, stretching you despite the ample lubrication. His moan of pleasure joined his groan of pain, a symphony of raw desire and urgency. His hands shook slightly as he thrust into you, the animalistic sounds of your union echoing in the small space.

Each thrust was deliberate, calculated to maximize his pleasure and his own desire. "Mi rei, are you okay?" he panted, the muscles in his abdomen flexing as he continued to move. "Tell me if you need me to stop..."

Despite the agony of his position and his size, your nod was slow and deliberate. Your eyes never left his, each thrust bringing with it pleasure and submission. You could count how many thrusts there were by the weight of his balls that hit your soft ass, leaving a red, painful mark on your sensitive flesh.

"Good boy... Taking everything in that cute pussy..." He growled as the veins in his neck bulged with each effort of his hips to not stick it all in and feel the tip of his dick tirelessly kiss your uterus ── but he didn't I could scare you now, despite wanting to take out all the frustration and excitement accumulated in your cunt. Your breasts bounced as you cried with fat tears coming down from your orbs, pleasure, guilt and undefined feelings in your mind made you bite your lip and just enjoy the moment.

"Fuck, mi angelito," he groaned, his eyes locked on yours. "F-Fuck, I can't control myself... Mierda-"

His movements became erratic, his need overpowering him as he drove into you, chasing the peak of his release. His breath came in ragged gasps, his body slick with sweat as he thrust deeper, harder, his desire fueling the intensity of your coupling.

"Just like this, mi carinõ," he cried out, his voice hoarse with lust. "Just like this, with you..." His words are the catalyst for your own release, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave, wracking your body with pleasurable contractions that milk him of his release.

Miguel follows suit, his cock twitching inside you as he fills you with his warm, pearly essence, marking you as his once again. He collapses on top of you, his breathing ragged and his heart pounding, both spent from the intensity.

"I don't deserve you, boy, but I need you."

[wangxianficfinder]

Fic Finder

Nov 14th

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1. Hello, I am looking for a fic that I think is wangxian. It was based on the ballad The Highwayman, and it ends tragically. It should be a complete work. Thank you!

Found by asker as a Star Wars fic -

Nov 14 #1 requester, I think I’ve found it but it’s a Star Wars fic. If a wangxian version exists, I’m happy to have it, but I think it’s solved. Always fun separating out the fic memories from a fandom obsession transition period…

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2. I hope you can help me find this one. It was a Twitter threadfic. In that LWJ proposed to WWX but WWX said no because he didn’t believe in marriage. They go to a wedding and the groom gets cold feet but LWJ helps him. Seeing that made WWX want to marry him but by then it was LWJ who changed his mind and WWX was heartbroken .

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3. There was this fix where wwx was a funeral arranger? Or something like that and lwj and wwx established relationship but then madame yu and her husband died and it focused on like grieving and stuff, there was also yanli and jiang Cheng and showed like the sibling bond I can’t find it I been trying for ages now

FOUND? grave goods by luckymarrow (E, 28k, WangXian, Grief/Mourning, Minor Character Death, Modern AU, mortician!wwx, Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Relationship, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Marriage Proposal, abrupt tonal shifts, Tragicomedy, Comedy, Romance, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Adoption, Implied/Referenced Abuse, for lan parents, it’s not described and is all backstory, Family Bonding, Family Dynamics, Married WangXian, brief daddy kink, the barest hint of consensual non-consent, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, BDSM)

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4. Hello! I'm looking for a couple of fics I lost sight of a long while ago!

A) The first one took place during the Cloud Recesses Arc: all the swords are stolen at night by 'Wei Wuxian' who is later found badly injured in the forest. He had been attacked by the future Wei Wuxian/ Yiling Laozu.

B) The Second One took place after the Siege, and I'm pretty sure the spirits of the Wen Remnants attacked others? I don't remember much about it, I'm sorry.

Thank you in advance and I appreciate your service a lot

4A)

FOUND? For the Dust and the Dirt by Nyxelestia (M, 63k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Time travel Fix-It, Cloud recesses study Arc, It gets worse before it gets better, WWX Whump, Hurt/comfort, Angst, Eventual Happy Ending)

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5. Ok hi sorry can’t remember much but school in tilling WWX is teacher there LWY moves there to teach also become friends a misunderstanding make WWX not speaking to LWY after LWY follows a Yao and finds WWX fighting it on a rooftop they defeated the Yao and LWY asks WWX “you’re wearing crocks?” WWX is that what you are going with …, or something like that

As always THANK YOU for all that you do for us 😁 @bkpmystinen

FOUND? An Unscheduled Stream by trippednfell (M, 68k, WIP, WangXian, Modern AU, Modern Cultivation, Misunderstandings, BAMF WWX, BAMF Wen Popo, WWX cultivates resentful energy but keeps his golden core, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Presumed Enemies to Lovers, Not Yunmeng Jiang friendly, Time Skips, Dual Cultivation - Not the Sexy Kind but ALSO the sexy kind, POV Multiple, Hurt/Comfort, Horny wound tending) I'm not sure about the crocs bit, but WWX and LWJ definitely end up fighting yao on the roof of the school.

FOUND? Roadside Attractions by Bodldops (T, 10k, WangXian, Teacher WWX, Teacher LWJ, The power of organized aunties)

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6. Heyy! I'm looking for two fics:

A) Omegaverse, modern au, wei ying is an omega and jc is an alpha and wy lives w the jiangs and i think there's this sort of expectation that he's gonna marry jc or atleast that's what jc wants, but wy gets pregnant by lwj and moves out after a fight then yeras later lsz and jl go on a date and that's how wy and jc meet again, cos jc's there when wy goes to dinner to meet jl's parents and uncle and turns out its the jiangs obviously, and basically jc's really stalkery and jealous after that but lz protects him.

B) modern au, omegaverse, lxc goes to pick up lwj from school and finds out a kid jc is his mate. he's disgusted and goes away for a while. when he comes back jc is older now. i don't remeber much but wy and lz are the side couple and wy is a beta as far as i can remeber, and there's a scene where jc wakes up in the hospital and wy and lz are kisisng and jc's kinds like fucking finally yk but yea!

Thank you! Love you guys!!

@body-inabyss-heart-inparadise

6A)

I recognise the fic though I can't remember the name. The author deleted all their works from AO3 a few months ago, if I recall correctly. I know it's also been on other fic finders.

FOUND? 6a is Meant To Be (But Not That Way), dm me ~dripping-moonlight

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7. Hello,

Ficfinder request.

Modern but with magic or cultivation. LWJ is a magical creature(?) hunter working for some kind of agency to protect humans.

The rest of the sects(from my memory) are families of magic creatures(?) but WWX has some kind of ‘half-breed’ status so when he goes through the magic/darkness detectors at LWJs work he doesn’t set them off.

Much of the fic is from LWJs pov but there is a great chapter from WWXs pov when he fully lets his powers out and we get badass WWX.

I feel like it was mdzs+ some anime but i don’t know which anime. 🥺 @empiresprince

FOUND? our reflections as seen (when the water stills) by chatonnerie (E, 121k, WangXian, XuanLi, Modern, Tokyo Ghoul Fusion, Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, This is a ghoul au, but everyone is also in university, so dumb energy is peak, Gore, Body Horror, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Biting, our reflections as seen (when the water stills) [PODFIC] by Opalsong) OHHH 7 IS THE TOKYO GHOUL AU IT’S SO GREAT AND ALSO THERE’S A PODFIC WHICH IS ALSO ABSOLUTELY AMAZING (I was too excited sorry for a million replies, but) It’s so good that there’s absolutely no tokyo ghoul knowledge needed, reads like a fun creature!modern!au kinda this way, has been one of my comfort listens for several years now

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8. Hello, I am looking for a fic, where Wei Wuxian runs away from Lotus Pier, right after he was brought there and Jiang Cheng kicked him out and threatened with dogs (when they were children). I think that Wei found his father? Not sure, but I have a feeling that this fic was found here and I forgot to save it. Thank you in advance.

FOUND? 🔒 the world wags on by justdoityoufucker (T, 5k, WCZ & WWX, WCZ & LQR, WCZ/LQR, canon divergence, pre-canon, not everyone dies au, not Jiang friendly, past child abuse, canon Jiang family relationships, parent-child relationship, not YZY friendly, pre-relationship) has elements of the world wags on but it isn't a perfect fit.

FOUND? In Another Life by SingingInTheRaiin (M, 21k, wangxian, time travel)

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9. Hi, I’m looking for a fic where after wwx is found during the sunshot campaign Jiang Cheng pretends his demonic cultivation is just the Jiang clan’s secret technique and uses that to keep the other sects off their back. I’m pretty sure it was from jc’s pov, and compared wwx, jc, and jyl to different bodies of water at the start of it (though I could be wrong about that part)? Thank you for the help

FOUND? Three kinds by apathyinreverie (T, 7k, wangxian, JC & WWX, canon divergence, protective JC, twin prides of yunmeng dynamics, soft WWX, smitten LWJ, worldbuilding, fix-it, golden core reveal, fluff, siblings) 

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10. Hello! I'm looking for a wangxian reality TV fic. It's a dating show and lwj is a participant while wwx is his camera man. They try to keep their relationship a secret but by the end the crew discovers them and has wwx brought in as lwjs partner. I think lwj proposes to wwx at the end and that Mo xuanyu was involved as the participant who stayed the longest

FOUND? After the Final Rose by azurewaxwing (E, 55k, wangxian, modern, reality show au, secret relationship, fluff & angst, happy ending, bachelor LWJ, cameraman WWX, smut)

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11. Hello! I'm so sorry to bother you but I've tried doing all my own searches and just can't find it. There's a fic series where Madame Yu cut off Wei Wuxian's hand before the fall of lotus pier and the Wen siblings took him in to help him recover. He ended up leaving the Jiang sect and starting his own and he and Wen Qing became amazing at making spiritual prosthetics. I know it's a series and I know I loved it but I can't find it anywhere! Thank you for your help! @queerlyloud

FOUND? 🔒 a star called sun by thelastdboy (E, 120k, wangxian, SL/XXC, JC & JYL & WWX, JYL & LWJ, WWX & WN & WQ, JYL/JZX, Canon Divergence after Xuanwu Cave, Fall of Lotus Pier, But worse!, Power Imbalance, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Not Everyone Dies AU, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Canon-Typical Violence, Sunshot Campaign, Miscommunication, Heavy Angst with a Happy Ending, Slow Burn, Major Character Injury, Loss of Limbs, Chronic Illness, Seizures, WWX’s Three Months in the Burial Mounds, Wēn Remnants Live, Wēn Remnants Deserve Better, WWX Creates a Sect | Yílíng Wèi Sect, Additional Warnings In Author’s Note, Hurt/Comfort, Selectively Mute LWJ, Service Animals, Crows)

FOUND? 💖 from the other side of sorrow by Sour_Idealist (E, 127k, JC & WWX, JC/WQ, JC & WWX & JYL, JYL & WQ, WangXian, WWX & JYL, JYL/NHS, LXC/JGY, JGY & NMJ, JGY & WQ, Canon Divergence, Golden Core Fix-It, Golden Core Transfer, canon-typical family dysfunction, Torture, secondary character death, Canonical Character Death, Comfort Sex, Femdom, Choking, Cock Slapping, Cunnilingus, Series Context Provided, Under-negotiated Kink, Mentions of canon-typical violence, Clan Leader JYL, Sunshot Campaign, JYL POV, spiritual weapons, Sect Leader WQ, Biased Narrator, Slow Burn, sect politics, Trauma, D/s elements, Reconciliation Sex, Reconciliation)

FOUND? 🔒💖  in payment, a hand series by justdoityoufucker (M, 10k, wangxian, not jiang friendly, amputation, injury recovery, self reflection, abusive YZY, families of choice)

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12. Hello! I started reading a Tangled x MDZS fic which I remember being pretty long. It was with lwj as Rapunzel and wwx as Flynn Rider. I started reading it but then decided I don't want to and now I regret it 😭. The part that I read was exactly like the start of the movie, with wwx complaining about how his wanted poster looked and all that jazz.

FOUND! we sit in the sunset glow by moonsteps (T, 36k, WangXian, Tangled AU, Fairy Tale Elements, Strangers to Lovers, Slow Burn, Curses, Sharing a Bed, Minor Violence, Traveling, Falling In Love) for the tangled AU, it sounds like it could be it starts just like the movie with Wei ying complaining to lil apple abt how he looks in his wanted poster😂

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13. Hey buddy, Hope you are doing well!

I'm searching for a fic. The only thing I remember is just a scene. The cloud recesses is hosting lectures and and guest disciples from all sects are visiting. I think it is after the war with the wens. It's a cannon divergence I think. The scene I'm referring to is, two of the disciples are from Su She's (Su Minshan, I think the full name is) and the sect heir is just a kid below 10. At some point others makes fun of him and his sister when they present gifts at the beginning of the lectures and LWJ kinda defends them, I think....

That's all I remember. Thanks in advance! @grrumpywoof

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14. Hello , I am looking for a fic where Jang Cheng dies instead of Jang Yanli at nightless city. Then she moves back to Lotus Pier and becomes sect leader, and lan wangji ends up living there too. Also, wei wuxian is brought back to life earlier, and by xue yang. lan wangjis back takes longer to heal.

Thank you!

FOUND? picking up the pieces by KouriArashi (M, 111k, JYL & LWJ, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Alternate Canon, Grief/Mourning, Angst, Regret, Family, Kid Fic, Families of Choice, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Politics, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Canon-Typical Violence, canon typical political bullshit, Eventual Happy Ending)

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15. I'm in search of two time travel fics: A) WWX has traveled back to CR. LXC hears him playing dizi (wangxian among others) and recognizes it as something LWJ composed (possibly same fic, though I may be conflating details, he realizes in lessons WWX is pretending to be less skilled at the dizi than he actually is). B) LWJ travels back in time from right after the 30 lashes and ends up in the burial mounds early w/the wens, still seriously injured and bleeding through his robes. Thank you guys! @moku-youbi

15B)

FOUND! The Cottage Amongst the Gentians by Enigmatree (T, 5k, WangXian, LXC & LWJ, Time Travel, LWJ and WWX time travel from post nightless city to before jin ling's celebration, or, I give WWX back to 13-years-grief LWJ like he deserves, Hurt/Comfort, Feat. LXC being a good brother who'd love to know what the fuck is happening, WWX goes to Gusu with LWJ after time travel; the fic, Domesticity) maybe?

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16. Hi I'm looking for a arranged marriage fic where lwj and wwx both are in love with each other but the marriage is arranged by their families. On the wedding day wwx overheard a conversation between lwj and his best friend who also have initials of ww the best friend had found a letter addressed to ww written by lwj confessing his love and think lwj is in love with him and he is trying to convince lwj to not marry and give him a chance. Their married life is full of misunderstanding.

FOUND? A Marriage Story by DeviyudeThoolika (E, 38k, wangxian, NMJ/LXC, married wangxian, but there are some complications, because it’s marriage, Sex is complicated, Angst and Pining, Pining while fucking, Mature elements, Mutual Pining, HEA, Arranged Marriage, Sort Of, Misunderstandings, of epic proportions, One True Pairing, Good Sibling JC, Good Parent YZY, Fluff and Angst, in that order, Slow Burn, Angst with a Happy Ending, Everyone Loves WWX, Angst and Hurt/Comfort)

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17. Hello! I would like to ask for help in finding a wangxian fic:

Modern with magic

I remember that Wei Ying got injured in Xuanwu cave together with Lan Zhan. In the Lan hospital he was denied help because he was fired (?) from the Lan org and later received a bill to pay for expenses.

He is saved by Wens.

Few years later Lan Zhan and Lan Xichen seek his help in some kind of case. Wei Ying says something along the lines of "I don't work with Lans".

Later Lan bros find out it was Su She's fault in how WY was treated.

I would really appreciate your help in finding it! ❤️‍🩹 @popugaj-ara

FOUND? 🔒 Wish I could forget the taste of your skin and the feel of your hands pinning me down by KizuKatana (E, 63k, wangxian, WQ & WWX & WN, Modern Cultivation, weapons-grade thirst, Getting Back Together, Trying REALLY hard to not still like your Ex, but failing, BAMF WWX, BAMF LWJ, Canon Divergence, Case Fic, LWJ’s canonically big dick, sort of a ‘thirsting for your co-worker ex’ vibe, it eventually gets worked out, Mutual Pining, Guest-starring LWJ’s canonically poor communication choices after romantic cave encounters, novel canon relationship dynamics, basically this fic is about escalating sexual tension)

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18. hi there thank you for finding fics for us

there is a fic where WWX is a teacher in Yilling and LWJ accepts a teaching job at the same school, they become friends and then a misunderstanding (not uncommon btwn them) WWX ignores LWJ LWJ follows a trail of a yao sees WWX fighting it on top of the school roof when landing he sees is WWX and then asks "Are you wearing crocs?" I think WWX tells him is a comfortable wear

please/thank you @mysticalyunique

FOUND? An Unscheduled Stream by trippednfell (M, 68k, WIP, WangXian, Modern AU, Modern Cultivation, Misunderstandings, BAMF WWX, BAMF Wen Popo, WWX cultivates resentful energy but keeps his golden core, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Presumed Enemies to Lovers, Not Yunmeng Jiang friendly, Time Skips, Dual Cultivation - Not the Sexy Kind but ALSO the sexy kind, POV Multiple, Hurt/Comfort, Horny wound tending) I'm not sure about the crocs bit, but WWX and LWJ definitely end up fighting yao on the roof of the school.

FOUND? Roadside Attractions by Bodldops (T, 10k, WangXian, Teacher WWX, Teacher LWJ, The power of organized aunties)

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19. hi this is for the fic finder! i remember the fic so well but i fear it may be deleted bc i just can’t find it in my bookmarks? so wwx after dropping off the face of the earth due to Wen Drama is a folk punk (?) musician along with wen ning and they live in a van, and jingyi is a huge fan, he drags sizhui to a show where they realize this guy might be lwj’s long lost best friend <3 call lwj over and they reunite, lsz is actually wwx’a bio child whom lwj adopted, they get to know each other etc

FOUND? your heart is a muscle by howodd5ever (E, 47k, WangXian, Modern AU, Pacific Northwest, folk punk, Adoption, WWX is LSZ's Parent, as in bio parent, WQ is LSZ's bio mom, brief mention of past wwx/wq hook up, chosen family, ljy and lsz are best friends, wwx is a folk punk singer, wn is a folk punk singer, Getting Together, Eventual Smut, fan boy ljy, protective big brother lxc, Happy Ending, I promise)

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20. Hi! This is fic finder. A ghost WWX after the first burial moubd sige. His ghost is in YMJ. JWY makes WWX to teach. WWX trains JL. And then there are a conference in lanling where WWX goes too. Thats all i can remember. Thanks! @idontknowwhattowriteforusername

FOUND! Death of a Ghost by Gotcocomilk (E, 107k, Family Bonding, Fluff and Angst, Eventual Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Mutual Pining, Parental WWX, BAMF WWX, he is a beast and I love him so much, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Canon Divergence, Ghost Sex)

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[mystiffox]

— the apple's falling from the tree

from Cross: The Star Sans by @overflowofcrows

star!cross makes me incredibly ill with the tragic found family vibes ... (lays on the floor)

also song inspo was Driver's Seat by Madds Buckley

also have some doodles too (slight spoilers on the fic's lore below! to explain some of my thoughts on clothes n stuff)

does Cross have a star necklace in the fic? no, probably not. did i show off about my thoughts on a star necklace to Simple anyway? yes, yes i did. anyway idc where u think the necklace is from (whether its a gift from dream or a remold of his broken heart necklace, who knows atp) now ONTO THE GANG (+ Error and Fresh)

to preface this: im mostly assuming for most of the lore beyond the crumbs given to me. so, i'd imagine that when the fight ended with the gang losing, Dream and Ink immediately jailed them up. they both seem keen on keeping the gang alive, so they probably would've tried to help them with anything to make sure of it- that is, if any of the gang would even accept it in the first place.

i'm making a small guess that if there were any wounds, they used what they had to take care of it, aka ripping out parts of their own clothing to use as makeshift bandages. dream might've gave them some supplies (out of pity.. or something) but whether that was not enough or not used, i won't know

even if it was enough, there's still the factor of inevitable outburst/breakdowns from any of the prisoners. i'd imagine it'd be so hard to calm any of them down because the gang were too used to being close together that using touch became the usual grounding method— so putting a barrier between them makes it infintely harder for everyone.

i think Nightmare doesn't use his jacket anymore. it probably feels like shit/too itchy and ragged to wear and reminds him of a past he wishes he could forget. (he must feel so helpless seeing all his boys suffer after taking care of them for so long... like a lost father trying his best and seeing how much he's failing at the same time.. man.)

Dust is almost always wrapped in a blanket, the hoodie completely zipped up as if he was trying to hide in it, keeping himself as small as possible (knowing his own breakdowns are the biggest And loudest)

Horror is probably yanked back to the memories of when he was back in his home au, quietly starving and losing all the progress he had with the gang.. trying to press himself against the barriers in hopes that maybe he can feel the others on the other side of it.. (one of his outbursts would be why he ripped off the sleeves of his jacket id assume)

Killer too.. unable to get to anyone and just. with his soul going haywire sometimes, having no available output that he's forced to ride it out on his own And in front of everyone.. yeah, you get the gist for those three

Error's a mess of threads- picks at his clothes and sews em back up, just to have a reason to move his hands. he's not too worried i'd say- it's a little reminiscent of the antivoid, and he's experienced insanity already (not to say it doesn't tug at his own soul-strings to see it happen to everyone else)

Fresh might be the "cleanest" out of everyone, with barely any visible tears, but i have a good feeling his body language is different. maybe the cap is now worn correctly. maybe he took off his jacket. he's tense. his guard is up. because a parasite would never want to be locked up in one place, right?

god.

God.

they make me so sick (message is mine btw)

[skywalker1dream]

Title: The uncertain future

note: im sorry if i hurt anyone.... believe i cried while writing this too.... i wanted happy ending but.....yea..dont hate me pleas.

Summary: As the sister of Lewis Hamilton, you watched the friendship between him and Nico Rosberg flourish and then crumble. Your heart, however, has always belonged to Nico. Now, with old wounds reopened and hidden feelings exposed, you find yourself torn between the love of your life and the brother you adore. In this tragic love story, you must make a heart-wrenching decision that will change everything.

Warnings: Angst, emotional conflict, family tension, panic attack

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

The sound of engines roaring in the distance was a constant reminder of the world you lived in. The world where your brother, Lewis Hamilton, was a star, and where your heart had silently but steadfastly clung to Nico Rosberg.

You were standing at the edge of the paddock, watching as Lewis and Nico avoided each other, the tension between them palpable. It had been years since their friendship had broken down, and yet the pain was still fresh. You could see it in Lewis’s eyes whenever Nico’s name was mentioned, and you could feel it in the pit of your stomach whenever you saw Nico.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. The three of you had grown up together, sharing dreams and ambitions. But as Lewis and Nico’s rivalry intensified, so did the cracks in their friendship. You were caught in the middle, torn between the love for your brother and the hidden feelings you harbored for Nico.

Nico spotted you and walked over, his eyes softening as they met yours. “Hey, can we talk?” he asked quietly, his voice a blend of hope and hesitation.

You nodded, your heart pounding. “Sure, let’s go somewhere private.”

The two of you found a quiet corner away from the prying eyes of the media and the team. Nico took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. “I can’t keep this to myself anymore. I know it’s complicated with Lewis and everything, but… I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “Nico, I… I’ve felt the same way. But Lewis… he’ll never accept it.”

Nico reached out, taking your hands in his. “I know it’s not fair to ask you to choose, but I can’t pretend anymore. I need to know if there’s a chance for us, despite everything.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked into his. “I want to be with you, Nico. But I don’t want to hurt Lewis. He’s my brother, and he’s already lost so much.”

“Then what do we do?” Nico’s voice was barely a whisper, his eyes searching yours for an answer.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice breaking. “I don’t know how.....how to choose between you two.”

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

The next few days were a blur of races, press conferences, and strained conversations. You avoided Lewis, knowing that your face would betray the turmoil inside you. But you couldn’t avoid him forever.

One evening, Lewis cornered you in your hotel room, his expression a mixture of confusion and hurt. “What’s going on with you and Nico?” he demanded, his voice tight with emotion.

You sighed, feeling the weight of the secret you had been carrying. “Lewis, I didn’t want to tell you because I knew it would hurt you. But… I’m in love with him. I have been for a long time.”

Lewis’s eyes widened, and he took a step back, as if physically struck by your words. “You’re in love with Nico? After everything he’s done?”

“It’s not that simple,” you pleaded, tears streaming down your face. “I love him, but I love you too. I don’t want to lose either of you.”

Lewis shook his head, his expression hardening. “You have to choose, [your name]. You can’t have both. If you’re with him, you’re betraying me.”

Your heart shattered at his words, the decision you had been dreading now laid bare before you. “Lewis, please don’t make me do this.”

“I’m sorry, but you have to,” he insisted, his voice cold and final. “It’s him or me.”

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

That night, you met Nico in the hotel lobby, your heart heavy with the decision you had made. He looked at you, hope and fear mingling in his eyes. “What did he say?”

You took a deep breath, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. “He said I have to choose. And I.....I choose him, Nico. I’m..... I’m so sorry.”

Nico’s face crumpled, and he pulled you into a tight embrace. “I understand. I always knew it might come to this. I just… I wish things were different.”

You clung to him, the tears flowing freely now. “So do I. More than anything.”

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

The days that followed were a blur of pain and heartache. You watched as Nico moved on, his eyes losing some of their spark. Lewis, too, seemed more distant, a part of him closed off forever.

You had made your choice, but the cost was more than you could bear. In choosing your brother, you had lost the love of your life. And in losing Nico, you had lost a part of yourself.

As you stood alone at the edge of the paddock, the roar of the engines a distant echo, you couldn’t help but wonder if you had made the right choice. But some choices, once made, can never be undone.

One particularly grueling day, the weight of your decision bore down on you more heavily than usual. Every interaction felt hollow, every laugh forced. You felt like a ghost of yourself, drifting through life without purpose. The pressure built until you could no longer hold it back.

You were in the paddock, surrounded by the familiar noise and chaos of race day, when the panic attack hit. Your chest tightened, and it felt like you couldn’t breathe. The world spun around you, and your vision blurred. You stumbled, clutching at your chest as you tried to draw in a breath, but it felt like your lungs were being squeezed by an iron fist.

Lewis was the first to notice. He rushed to your side, his face etched with worry. “[your name], what’s wrong? Talk to me!”

You couldn’t speak. All you could do was shake your head, tears streaming down your face as you fought for air. Lewis wrapped his arms around you, his voice a soothing murmur in your ear. “It’s okay. Just breathe. I’m here.”

Gradually, the world came back into focus, and you managed to draw in a shaky breath. But the relief was short-lived. The emotional dam broke, and you snapped.

“This is all your fault!” you screamed, pushing Lewis away. “You....you made me choose! You made me give up the love of my life!”

Lewis’s face fell, hurt and confusion mixing in his eyes. “[ your name], I didn’t want to hurt you. I thought I was protecting you.”

“Protecting me?” you spat, the anger boiling over. “You tore my heart in two! You made me choose between you and Nico, and now I’m broken. I can’t....I can’t live like this anymore, Lewis. I can’t live without him.”

Lewis’s expression crumpled, and he reached out to you, but you stepped back. “I need to fix this. I need to be with Nico.”

Before he could respond, you turned and fled, your heart pounding as you made your way to Nico’s home. Every step felt like a race against time, a desperate bid to reclaim the happiness you had lost.

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

When you arrived at Nico’s door, you hesitated, your hand hovering over the doorbell. What if it was too late? What if he had moved on, leaving you behind in the wreckage of your choices?

But you had to try. Taking a deep breath, you rang the bell.

After a few moments, the door opened. But it wasn’t Nico who stood before you. It was a woman, her expression one of polite curiosity. “Can I help you?”

Your heart plummeted. “I… I’m looking for Nico. Is he here?”

The woman hesitated, glancing over her shoulder before looking back at you. “He’s not here right now. Can I tell him who’s asking?”

You swallowed hard, fighting back the tears. “Just… tell him [your name] stopped by.”

She nodded, offering a sympathetic smile. “I’ll let him know.”

As the door closed, you stood there, feeling the weight of the world crashing down on you. It was too late. Nico had moved on, and you were left standing on the doorstep of what could have been.

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

The drive back was a blur. You felt numb, the pain of your decision and the realization of its consequences settling like a leaden weight in your chest. When you arrived at your hotel, Lewis was waiting for you, his expression a mixture of concern and guilt.

“Did you find him?” he asked quietly.

You shook your head, unable to meet his eyes. “He’s not there. He’s with someone else now.”

Lewis stepped closer, his hand resting gently on your shoulder. “I’m so sorry, darling. I never wanted to hurt you.”

Tears spilled down your cheeks as you finally looked at him. “But you did, Lewis. And now I’ve lost everything...”

He pulled you into a hug, holding you tightly as you sobbed into his chest. “We’ll get through this. I promise.”

But as you clung to him, the void inside you remained. The love you had lost, the life you had given up, all of it weighed heavily on your heart.

[irisintheafterglow]

Just Wanna Keep Calling Your Name (gojo x you)

summary: you check on megumi and yuuji before they begin their mission to find tengen and unseal the honored one.

wc: 1.8k

cw/tags: angst/comfort with hopeful ending, swearing, mentions of eating and food, just sad separated found family things

note: part 3/4 of my "i don't wanna live forever" little series. yeah writing this made me so sad i just wanna tell them it'll be okay and this shit hasn't even been ANIMATED yet

likes/reblogs/feedback is appreciated <3

In any other circumstance, he’d be pushing you away in exaggerated melodrama because of how tightly you’re constricting him. He’d gently wiggle from your grip, saying something about you embarrassing him or that he wasn’t a kid who needed hugs anymore. You’d frown a little bit, staring at him in disappointment until he huffed in surrender and squeezed you even tighter. After a few moments, Satoru would inevitably come over and create a “Megumi-sandwich,” wrapping his lanky arms around both of your bodies and pressing a kiss to your cheek. Sometimes, Yuuji would catch wind of the affection and race over, tackling all three of you to the ground until you were in one familial heap. Satoru would take your hands and help you off the floor just to pull you to his lips. Yuuji would coo fondly at the show of affection while Megumi made a gagging gesture with his finger. In any other circumstance, it would be a perfectly normal hug. 

But, these were not normal circumstances. 

Because they weren’t normal circumstances, you weren’t able to utter a word before Megumi’s arms were shakily wound around your body, hiding his face in your shoulder and trembling. You catch Yuuji’s ashamed gaze from inside Megumi’s dorm and reach out your hand, which he takes and pulls both you and Megs closer to him. As much as you like to remind yourself that they’re capable of holding their own as sorcerers, you couldn’t ignore the reality that the Shibuya incident was not something that seasoned sorcerers should have experienced, much less two teenagers. With Panda, Inumaki, and Nobara in grave condition and Nanami soulless in the morgue downstairs, you were truly the only family the two boys had left. You never allow your mind to drift to Satoru. 

“Eat, Megs. Please.” You set the bowl of ginger chicken in front of him, his favorite ever since he was little. You silently thanked past you for putting frozen containers of ginger chicken and spaghetti in the teacher’s lounge freezer, which you picked up on your way to check on the boys. The picture in front of you was tragically familiar–Megumi on his bed with a bowl of ginger chicken and his stuffed wolf in his lap. You couldn’t guess the last time the two ate, but it must have been quite a long time from how quickly Yuuji scarfed down the first bowl of spaghetti. The second tub of spaghetti is still warm, thankfully, and you slide the bowl over to him in understanding. Megumi, on the other hand, simply stared off into space, the enticing steam of the food unable to pierce his broken exterior. “I’m gonna take the wolf back if you don’t eat.” His eyes are dark and dangerous when they flick up to you, the same look he gave you for the past however many years you’d been using that threat. Despite its age, you’re surprised to find that it still works as he finally takes a bite of food. “Thank you.”

“When’s the last time you ate?” 

“This morning. I had breakfast with Shoko.” You also tried one of her cigarettes again and hated them just as much as the first time. She’d poured a few shots for you before work to make it up to you.

“Coffee doesn’t count as breakfast,” Megumi deadpans and your first impulse is to laugh. But, you can’t stop the memory that breaks loose and it slams into you like a freight train. 

He was giving you that odd look again, something between the lines of skeptical and adoration. You stick your tongue out at him in defiance and his hand finds yours from the driver’s seat of the car. It was an early morning mission and you argued that you deserved a treat after dragging him out of bed. To Ijichi’s annoyance, Satoru stops at a grocery store, running in to grab you a muffin and scolding you for not having enough fuel for the day. He kissed you so fervently when he returned to the car, like you were going to disappear in his absence. He said he could taste the coffee on your lips and that you didn’t make it right; when you looked at him with an offended expression, he shrugged and said he made you the best coffee. You’d never admit it, but he was right. 

“I-I had a muffin, too.” Despite your best efforts, your voice still comes out as a choke and Megumi’s face falls guiltily. He knows exactly what his words had accidentally triggered. “I split it with Shoko.” You take his hand while he avoids your eyes, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles reassuringly. “Eat, Megs. It’s okay.” 

“Did the higher-ups really confine you to the school?” Yuuji asks after he’s finished the second tub of spaghetti. “I heard…some things about you and it made me nervous.”

You hum in assent. “Well, I’m still alive. There’s no way I’d let them kill me before checking on you two.” The words are meant to be reassuring but aren't received that way as their heads both snap to look at you in alarm. “Yeah, no point in lying. We talked about it, before everything happened. I know he didn’t say anything about it because he didn’t want to worry you, but we discussed what would happen in his…absence.” 

“Have they sent anyone yet?” Megumi’s voice is low and threatening but you knew the warning wasn’t directed toward you. 

“No, but I also know they haven’t sent anyone after Yuuji either, right?” They nod but still eye you warily. You give them a weak smile in an attempt to ease their worries. “So, that means the brass is still such a shit-show that they can’t dispatch sorcerers to apprehend Satoru’s associates. We have time, but not a lot of it.” 

“We have a plan. Or, at least, the beginnings of one. To get him back,” Yuuji says carefully, each word delicate like you were a grenade on the verge of exploding. Your walls go up immediately, shutting down to prevent the storm of emotions that welled up at the optimistic hope in his words. “We’re going to unseal him.” The sentence goes in one ear and out of the other; you can tell by their expressions that your eyes have gone empty and blank. It wasn’t anything against them. You just couldn’t handle thinking about him too much, lest you truly break down. 

“Okay. Try your best.” Your smile is pained and forced, but you still nod in weak encouragement. Megumi’s eyebrows suddenly furrow in thought, like he’d remembered something important. “What is it, Megs?”

“Who is Toji?”

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Satoru, Satoru please. Satoru, please look at me,” your voice cracks into broken cries while your hands frantically shake his shoulders, willing him to wake up. “Baby, I need you to look at me, please. Satoru, please, baby. Please, I can’t–” You can’t breathe. The words are getting caught in your throat and staying there. Every inhale tastes like blood and every exhale emphasizes your boyfriend’s lack of a pulse. “I can’t get to Suguru, Satoru. I can’t get to Suguru and he needs you. I need you. I need you, please. Please, wake up.” The tiniest bit of movement catches your eye and you stare in amazement at his hand, drenched in a pool of his own blood, twitching and violently blazing Cursed Energy. “There you are, baby. Come back to me.” 

“He was a sorcerer from the Zenin clan. Why do you ask?” 

“Was?” Megumi echoes, and it’s your turn to mirror his confused expression. “Like, he’s dead?”

“Yeah, he’s been dead for over a decade. Again, why do you ask?”

“There was a guy that Naobito called ‘Toji’ in Shibuya with us. He had no Cursed Energy but was stronger than the special-grades we were fighting.” Dread drops into your stomach like a dead weight. Fushiguro Toji coming back from the dead was the last fucking thing you needed. 

“Is the man still alive?”

“No, and that’s what I’m curious about. He asked me what my last name was and then killed himself when I said ‘Fushiguro.’ He could have killed me, but he didn’t. I just want to know if I have any kind of connection to that man.” 

“I see.” You felt guilty for lying to the boy’s face, but you also recognized that it was Satoru’s decision alone if he wanted to tell Megumi about his family history. “I’m not sure, then. I’m sorry.” He nods, face taut in suppressed disappointment and you rush to change the subject. You could feel time passing too quickly, the instinctual feeling that they had to keep moving hanging over your head. “I read about your fight with Awasaka in the report. Thank you for taking care of each other and taking care of yourselves.” You didn’t mean to strike a nerve, but your chest aches when they simultaneously dart their faces away, contorting in quiet agony. 

“He killed thousands using my body,” Yuuji hisses, squeezing his eyes closed to shut out the memory. “I don’t deserve gratitude for my survival–”

“Stop. Don’t tell me that I can’t be grateful you survived,” you state firmly and you feel emotions start to well up in your eyes again for the first time in hours. All three of you have tears quietly streaming down your cheeks; you have no more energy for the hiccuping and gasping-type of sobs that wracked your body days earlier. “You’re alive to keep fighting, so please recognize that as important.” 

“Would you ever marry me, Satoru?”

He looks at you like you’d just suggested cliff diving into sharp rocks. “Of course. Once all this shit is sorted out with Sukuna and I reform Jujutsu Society, we’ll have a rager wedding.”

You scoff in disbelief. “You want to have a rager wedding?”

“Was that not what you had in mind?”

“Mmm…no. I was thinking something small, you know, with Yuuji and Megs and Nanami and Shoko and the rest of your students. Save your strobe lights and fog machines for the bachelor party.” You both know damn well Nanami would never set foot in a club with Satoru, but it was still a funny image for the mind. 

“You want to involve my students in our wedding?”

“I thought that was self-explanatory. You care about them, I care about you, so I automatically care about them. Whatever you would do for your students, I would too.”

“I’d pull down the planets for you, you know.”

“Just the planets? You must not love me that much tonight.” His eyes shine in the moonlight as he rubs his nose against yours. “Break up with me now and put me out of my misery.”

“You underestimate my abilities, sweetheart.”

“Yeah?”

“Yep. I’d pull down every planet in the entire universe for you if you asked, not just the ones in this solar system.”

“There’s my sappy Satoru.”

“I’m yours forever.”

“Do your best, okay?” You say before Megumi and Yuuji leave to find Master Tengen, leaving you alone in Megumi’s dorm. Reaching over for his stuffed wolf, you summon a portal and store it in your domain for safe-keeping. You’d give it to him when you were all together again, your boys and your boyfriend. 

I’m yours forever.

[j2hoes]

Police Cars And Paintings. (Wally Clark x Reader)

Summary: Wally helps Y/N get her justice.

Word count: 2,593

Gif Not Mine. Requests Are Open!

Warnings - Murder? Swearing.

“Y/N Y/L/N was loved by all, caring, supportive and kind are just three words that her family and friends used to describe the young woman whose life was so tragically cut short at the age of seventeen. Y/N was a senior at Split River high school, with hopes of attending New York Fashion School, in order to pursue her dreams of studying fashion design. She was the valedictorian with a passion for the arts. We learn today that her body was discovered in the school’s art room, with multiple stab wounds to her  neck, chest and stomach. Police believe the attack was premeditated and to remain vigilant as her killer is still yet to be caught.”

Letting out a pained scream, I launch the tv remote directly at the screen in front of me, causing the image to shift and blur before settling into a dull, gray static. Feeling multiple pairs of eyes on me, I grip my hair, tugging slightly to feel the tightness in my skull as a way to relieve the emotional pain weighing me down.

“Hey, let’s not do that okay. It won’t help you.” Wally tells me, gently grabbing my arms and forcing them down as he wraps his arms around me in a comforting hug. Well as best as he can leaning from behind the sofa.

“Are we not gonna talk about the fact that she just broke the tv? She’s ruined movie night for everyone.” Rhonda complains, eyes shooting daggers at me.

“Like you even care about movie night. There’s other TV's in this school, we’re not gonna miss one.” I snap back, rage still coursing through my body. “At least your murderer was caught.”

Rhonda scoffs, turning to look at Mr Martin, who has remained oddly silent, as she slips her lollipop back into her mouth. Mr Martin simply shares a disapproving glance, not impressed by either of our actions or comments though he still remains silent. Not wanting to make the tension in the room any worse. It’s so thick you could cut it with a knife, cliche I know.

“At least you know who did it, that’s got to count for something and I’m sure the police will work it out soon enough. I mean, they already know that it was a planned attack.” Charlie comments, hoping to make me feel a little better, yet I still feel just as bad. If not worse than moments prior.

“Yeah and he’s still walking about school as though nothing happened! The cops don’t give a shit Charlie, I’m already dead, it’s not like anything worse is going to happen to me that they have to worry about.”

Wally’s embrace relaxes as he stands up straighter, arms falling to his side, causing me and everyone else in the room to turn and look at him. A serious expression is settled upon his face, an unusual sight as he is normally sporting a soft smile or at least a playful lightness in his eyes.

“Wait, the guy that did this goes to school here? He’s still here?” Wally asks, his questions directed at me as though nobody else is even in the room. Clearly something has rattled him.

“Yeah, that’s why I’m so pissed off. I still have to see him every single day and there’s no escape. Not even in death I get peace.”

With a huff, I push myself off the sofa. Forcing a smile at the group as I make my exit, the moment I step out of the gym I start running. Sprinting as fast as I can to the other side of the school before climbing up the stairs to the rooftop. The art room used to be my quiet place, where I would find myself able to relax and feel at ease. Not anymore. So, the roof is my quiet place now. After moving all of my art supplies here, I’ve found that there’s no reason for me to even step foot in the art room anymore. It’s been a month and it’s still too painful to be in there.

Picking up my paintbrush and dipping it into my paint to continue the mural I have been working on, I hear another pair of footsteps lightly jogging up the stairs. I know it’s Wally, I don’t even need to turn around to know it’s him. Ever since I arrived in this world, he’s been my rock. Helping me get through everything and it’s safe to say that in the short amount of time I’ve known him, he’s found a special place in my heart. It’s not a crush. I swear it’s not a crush. I just happen to have a soft spot for him.

“Holy shit. I knew you liked art but this is insane, why have I never seen this?”

Wally’s stare is glued to the mural I’ve painted, each ghost gazing back at him from their position on the wall. Rhonda’s trademark moody stare, Charlie’s sweet but somewhat shy smile, even Dawn’s curiosity shines through in her chestnut brown eyes. I watch as he notices himself. A proud smile resting on his lips. Wally was the most difficult to paint, I wanted to make sure I captured his beauty properly, though that tends to be very hard to do when someone is physically perfect.

“You even got my necklace, Y/N this looks so real. Like you’re so talented, this belongs in a gallery or something.” Wally continues, brushing his finger down the side of his painted face, still in awe.

“It’s still a work in progress. I haven’t even started on Mr Martin, or the band kids or the girl in the theater whose name I always forget.” I tell him, swatting his hand away from the wall before he smudges any paint that may still be wet.

“Yeah, but do you really want them on there? Mr Martin sure, but the others, they never show up to the support group. You should keep it contained, no? You haven’t even painted yourself yet.”

“That’s kind of rude Wally. I painted Dawn and she never comes to the group, but she’s my friend.” I tell him, placing my paintbrush down and beginning to walk over to the rail at the edge of the roof. “We’re all dead, we deserve some sort of memorial.”

Leaning against the rail, I watch the kids below living their lives as normal. As though nothing is wrong, as though I wasn’t just murdered a month ago. God, if they knew this is what happens after death, they’d be terrified.

The football team are running drills on the field, accompanied by the cheerleaders who are going over the same routines. Students sit in the bleachers, either reading or making notes as they study. Occasionally laughing together as they discuss the latest gossip or show each other something they’ve seen on social media. It’s a peaceful scene, watching as they stress over things so trivial, things that won’t matter in ten years time.

“How come you never told me that the guy who killed you still goes to this school? I knew he hadn’t been caught but I assumed that’s because was on the run or something.” Wally asks me, leaning with his back against the rail so that he can watch me rather than the school.

“I don’t know. I try to avoid him and I know how nosey the rest of that group are, especially Rhonda. No doubt you’d all be following him around the school like a bunch of creeps.”

“Yeah but that’s just because we care about you.” Wally nudges me as he speaks, trying to get me to smile, which proves to be very easy as I make eye contact with him.

My heart flutters, making me nervous as I stare up at him. Wally’s height would intimidate me if I didn’t know how much of a big softie he was. I truly don’t think there is a bad bone in his body, he breaks the stereotypical idea of what a jock is. Charming and popular, sure, but he wouldn’t hurt a fly.

Feeling his hand touch my chin, my smile grows wider as it gently moves to cup my cheek. His other hand combs through his hair, a nervous trait of his. Something I picked up on a while back, it doesn’t happen often because Wally isn’t one for getting nervous. He opens his mouth slightly, about to ask something. However, before he can my eyes catch sight of something on the field below.

“That’s him.” I point out, a flash of disappointment crosses his face before he removes his hand and turns to see what I’m looking at.

Harry Cole, clad in a dark hoodie is walking by the side of the field, heading straight to the art block. His pace is quick, almost like he’s in a rush and it’s the most panicked I’ve seen him since my death. Clearly something’s happened, a breakthrough in the investigation maybe? Police hot on his tail. Whatever it is, I need to know.

“That’s the dickhead that killed you?” Wally asks, scowling now as he takes him in.

“Yeah, come on, he’s up to something.”

Without even a second thought, I grab Wally’s hand, taking off in a slight run in order to catch whatever Harry’s up to. Wally’s gripping my hand in a firm hold, as if he’ll lose him if he lets go, thumb gently tracing circles into my skin despite us running.

Upon entering the art room, I immediately see Harry at the sinks, furiously scrubbing at something. Sharing a confused glance with Wally, I slowly approach him. I know he can’t see me and yet I’m still worried that I’ll disrupt him and spook me off, leaving me with no answers.

The closer I get the stronger the smell of bleach is, and then I finally see what he is cleaning. Butcher knife gleaming under the bright white lights, I spot the specks of blood still coating the handle and I know he’s trying to remove any evidence. Gloves adorn his hands in an attempt to mask his fingerprints. A silent tear rolls down my cheek at the thought of him never getting caught.

Wally’s arm wraps around my shoulder delicately. “You don’t need to see this.”

To my surprise, I don’t fight with him as he gently escorts me out of the room. I make no noise as I let the tears fall down my cheeks and I know Wally sees. Yet, he stays quiet. Not wanting to further upset me. He helps me to sit down on the old sofa that resides on the roof. With his hands on my knees he crouches in front of me, a concerned look on his face.

“You’ll be okay Y/N. I promise.” He tells me, words soothing my pain little by little. “Look I’ve got to run somewhere but I will be back so fast. I swear.”

Nodding my head gently, he presses a soft kiss to my forehead before dashing off to wherever he needs to be. Allowing me to wallow in my pain. The more days that pass, the more I feel as though justice isn’t possible. The more I feel like Harry will get away with everything.

Curling up into a ball, I allow my emotions to take over. Wails audible and body shaking with anger and sadness. I don’t want to feel like this anymore. I don’t understand how the others do it. They’ve been dead longer but surely they still feel the pain and anguish of being dead. Surely they must be hurting too.

I’m brought back to reality by the sounds of sirens, I’m not sure how long I was sat consumed in my sadness but I know that Wally is standing by the rail. Watching whatever it is that is taking place below. The sirens ring through my ears and I jump up to stand beside him, his arm instantly wrapping around me despite no words being said.

Police cars fill the car park, grabbing the attention of pretty much everyone in the near vicinity. Students stand in shock at the commotion being caused. Each window is filled with faces, eager to bear witness to what is happening outside. Wally’s arm squeezes my shoulders, a show of encouragement and support. I swear if he wasn’t by my side, physically holding me up with the arm that is wrapped around me, I think I would be a nervous heap on the ground.

With that, I spot it. Several police officers surround Harry as he is walked out of the school building in handcuffs. His hood shielding his face from view to the majority of students, however, I know it's him. Same outfit, same demeanor, same person. They’ve got him. I feel a weight lift from my shoulders and I let out the breath I didn’t even know I was holding.

“How did that happen? How did they know it was him?” I ask, completely bewildered by the entire situation.

Wally looks down at me, a shy smile on his face. He knows something I don’t. Turning to face him properly, I take his hands in mine, raising my eyebrows in an attempt to get an outside. Only for him in turn to focus his stare onto the floor.

“Wally?”

“Dawn has a pretty big social media presence within the school community. She runs it as though she’s an anonymous gossip blog, nobody knows who she is but everyone knows her.” He starts, still leaving me confused as to how this happened. “I managed to get her to the art room in time to take a picture of him with the knife. She posted it, it went viral and now the police are here.”

Feeling a rush of emotions run through my body, I somehow gain the confidence to pull Wally down by his gold chain. Gentle enough that it doesn’t snap but with enough force that he’s taken off guard. My hands hold his face as I press my lips to his, feeling his hands hold my forearms as he delicately moves his lips against mine. As I pull away slowly, my mouth drops open in shock as I gaze at Wally who is now eye level with me. Hunched over in order to kiss me.

“I am so sorry Wally. I have no idea where that came from, I just -”

Wally cuts me off with his lips on mine once again, he maneuvers slightly so that my back presses against the rail and I wrap my arms around his neck as the kiss begins to grow more passionate. His hands are holding my waist, body pressed tightly against mine as I feel every inch of my body tingle with excitement. I know Wally feels it too. When I force myself to pull away for some air, he doesn’t hesitate before moving to press light kisses against my neck.

“I’ve never felt this with anyone before Y/N.” He whispers against my skin, goosebumps raising at the feel of his lips moving against my neck.

He moves to look at me, a big, goofy smile on his face as I move my hands to play with the necklace dangling in front of me. Wally places his hands on the rail besides me, watching me eagerly, awaiting my next move.

“I really, really like you Wally.”

He chuckles softly, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “I really, really like you as well.”

[joffyworld]

Šamaš -

The Shunned Sun's Son

Nobody remembers...

One...

I remember the sun;

How it burned my retina and touched my skin.

I remember the sand and the desert's strewn hues,

How it stretched so far I could never imagine it's end.

I remember the clacking of the horses hooves;

How they whinnie'd and neigh'd as they trotted afar.

I remember well the hot, harsh sun;

How it sunk it's rays, seeped deep into purple flesh.

I remember the tears;

How the years of servitude and solemn silences had been repaid in kind.

I remember the fall;

How I trod for miles and days, in any which way I could conceive to heave my wounded soul.

I remember the offer;

How they extended their hand and told me of their plans to redeem that which we had both just had stolen.

I remember the son...

Two...

There was nothing to lose by the time I had met him.

No course of action set but to survive without question.

Those were the dark days:

Before we had found our ways, struck down the clouds and figured it all out; How we would arise from these trials and tribulations.

That is to say;

We weren't yet homeward bound into those higher graces. We hadn't yet found our way out of the cave system that we resided in;

Depression.

Yet that is also to say we hadn't yet lost hope. Hadn't found ourselves falling from the ends of our rope. We clung tightly to the middle, ever so tightly to that middle that had the rope ever frayed we might've let ourselves choke.

Depression's a bitch but so were we.

We made our days carefree and aimless. Because who is more dangerous than the nameless and faceless? We moved through the shadows, yes we clung to those shadows, they embraced us when the world didn't. It was all we could know.

I remember the cub...

Three...

He'd never had to run.

There was a fire in his eyes, I remember it well. You could immediately tell there was a chance to excel. You could immediately see, no matter who he'd want to be, he would achieve it without question, time wasn't needed to tell.

He'd never want to run.

The fire in his eyes belied the fire in his heart. The fire was in there it just needed a spark. The spark that was needed was the guidance of our teaching, could we do what was necessary? Was it even enough?

He'd never be able to run.

Fire burns hot, this we know well. Those that burn the brightest burn the fastest, this we could all tell. The fire needed to be tempered, it had to be made embers and if we left it too long it might have burned us as well.

In a way he did run.

He retreated into those books we had banned, but he was fast as a gun. Every book we confiscated was another library raided, had we taken from him the chance to learn and have fun?

Of course we had. That was the plan wasn't it? To take from him the powers of our collective knowledges? To shake and stutter his incorrigible courage? To destroy the foundations of the most powerful puppet? To take from the child, to break this poor child. We thought we were helping, it was all proven wrong.

I remember the spawn...

Four...

They say there is strength in nobility:

A chance to make right your wrongs and face your true enemies, a choice to be made about who you really ought to be. Yet that choice is no choice if it's formed by your destiny. We rail against it as if destiny can be history, then fail to mention that we follow it anyway blissfully -

Unaware.

That's what we were, maybe still are. We thought we had our work cut out for us, that naught was FUBAR. That we could recover and find our place amongst these stars; that form our galaxy, though tragically we forgot to search far.

Then destiny blessed us again.

I remember looking down at the small child that stood there. Dirtied clothes, big eyes and no traces of hair. Built wide, like her smile, nary a sound in the air. Not tall, but built short without a singular flair.

Destiny was a strange patron.

It had given us a family we could never have dreamed of. It gave us small hopes and small comforts that we could never conceive of. It took and then gave and then took again without recourse. But when all seemed hopeless again, it came back with kind re-gards.

Years passed and none changed. Months flew by and yet we all stayed the same. Number four grew stronger, number three grew bolder, number two grew shoulders for them to cry on and complain.

I remember the hatchling...

Five...

He was perhaps the most interesting.

Certainly the most challenging.

We kept things simple,

We tried to keep it all slow.

But there was no stopping him.

Every day was another spent running at the gym.

Every activity a festivity, never a solemn slow hymn.

There was no sort of pace,

That we could ever control.

He completed us as a family,

He reformed our lost souls,

Gave us back what was taken,

So many decades ago -

Humanity.

But fate is a cruel mistress still,

And you reap what you sow;

Tragedy....

"I have received a prophecy...

...I am sorry little ones,"

"We Have No Choice"

[pinkcreamypeach]

I wrote this last night, so I figured I'd just post it here, heh..

Do you think he even understood what death was? Maybe he didn’t fully comprehend it at the time. He knew Maria had a condition, but could he truly understand the weight of what that meant? It’s painful to think about him being younger than Maria, completely unaware of what death even was, until that tragic moment.

Shadow never said "Maria was killed"; he always said "Maria was taken away from me," which speaks volumes. He had no idea what was happening. He was just a child, in a way… even though he wasn't technically a baby, considering his lack of age. But the idea that Shadow didn’t grasp the concept of death is heartbreaking.

When Maria was killed, Shadow was technically younger than her. He probably had no understanding of death. Shadow never said "Maria was killed"—he always said she was "taken away from me." He was a "tube baby," raised in isolation on the ARK with limited knowledge of the world outside. His only real connections were to Maria and Gerald, who cared for him and taught him what they could. He was still a child when he witnessed Maria's death, helpless in his tube as she was gunned down.

He was created to help Maria with her condition—Neuro-Immuno Deficiency Syndrome (NIDS), a rare and terminal disease. Gerald loved his granddaughter so much, he wanted to save her, and that's why Shadow was created as part of the project that became his namesake. Unfortunately, the government saw Shadow as a threat to humanity, and their actions destroyed everything he had known.

In the end, Shadow was just a child, a creation who had found a family. He had a big sister, Maria, who was tragically "taken away," and he could do nothing to stop it.

Shadow is doomed to suffering in every universe. His happiest life would be one where Maria never died, yet he was created for her—so his truest happiness would have been one where he was never born at all.

Maybe in some alternate reality, he could finally find peace, with his family, with Maria—but in this reality, he will never have that. Instead, he will continue to hurt, to relive the trauma of losing everything aboard the ARK. No amount of time will heal that wound. Frozen for 50 years, the pain of Maria's death feels like it happened only moments ago. When he finally escaped the tube, all he wanted was revenge.

And who could blame him for that?

[19catsncounting]

Hey I think there's something that I have to keep reminding myself and maybe you also need to remind yourself of sometimes and that's that it's actually really hard to Fandom wrong.

Like there's a lot of writers and creators who produce works better than I could. Frankly, I suck at meta. And that's fine! I'm not gonna get called to the Fandom Principal's Office to be told that I'm failing in Fandom and need to get my grades up or I'll lose my spot on the posting team. I can commit to the most wildly OOC portrayal of a character and people will just not like it and that's!!! Okay!!!

No one is getting paid for this! You can't get fired! It's nice to find like-minded individuals but you don't have to change your mind for the sole purpose of finding community!

We are playing in sandboxes and it is Normal and Good to play in your corner and see other people playing differently in theirs. You should fight any urge towards conformity in your mind because it is the final sanctuary where you can be free.

And while this is mostly a "Hey feeling insecure about how you participate in Fandom is something you can and should challenge" I do also mean "Hey people who make Fucked Up content and people who make Fixed Wholesome content are not and never should be enemies."

I tend to make things leaning towards Fixing and Found Family but that will never earn me a place in heaven and has no weight to my own morality and does not make me a good person and I would drive any Noncon Torture Sadist Darkfic creator to the airport at 5 AM and bring us both homemade lattes. I have taken so many pieces of great characterization for my domestic hopeful comfort fics from Really Fucking Dark fics because those fics break open characters in new and intense and beautiful lights. The ONLY reason I don't write hurt/no comfort is because that's not the enrichment I'm looking for, it isn't the treatment I need for my personal psychic wounds but it is perfectly! Beautifully! Worthy! As a trope all the same! And it is beneficial for people who are not me!!!

Fiction is morally neutral in every way - no matter what you create, whether it is hopeful or tragic, or beautiful, or mediocre, you are allowed and encouraged to make it.

[samsalami66]

Here we go again with a fun little drabble, this time for a spontaneous Knight!Hob and Prince!Dream au (which will probably get a few more additions lmao). It all started with my lovely @im-not-corrupted handing me the prompt "you know, it's ok if you're not ok" from this wonderful prompt list.

----

Dream ran down a corridor, his coat billowing behind him like an angry cloud of black smoke, set to destroy everything that would dare to stand between him and this God-forsaken door deep within the bowels of the castle. 

Dream ran, and it was the first time Dream remembered running since his childhood years, when he had been a naught but a babe, excited to explore every nook and corner of the massive palace that he called his home. Of course the first time he was forced to engage in such physical activity in as many years, it would be Hob Gadling's fault. Because it was always Hob Gadling's fault, from the moment he stepped foot into the throne room and announced he would become Dream's personal guardian, a Knight in his name alone, loyal to none other than the Prince of the Dreaming. 

What is he at fault for? a curious reader might ask, and Dream would whirl around on his heel and give a whole list of things Sir Robert Gadling could be blamed for, if only indirectly. 

For the blush he forced onto Dream's pale cheeks anytime their gazes met over a particularly boring dinner with his family. Perhaps also for the way Dream's heart skipped a beat whenever Hob spoke up to the King and Queen on his behalf, a feat so terrible even the most noble of men had failed before him. Good thing Hob was no nobleman, no son of high houses nor of new money. 

He was an idiot, first and foremost. A talented, quick witted and patient idiot, but an idiot nonetheless. After all, who just waltzes into a room with the King and Queen in it and promises undying loyalty to their adolescent son who no one particularly likes and expects it to simply work? And who decides to simply enter a jousting match without any former training or experience for fun?

Hob Gadling, of course, which was just one more example of things he could be blamed for. 

Nil consideration for his own physical well-being. 

Idiot. 

Dream was about to say as much as he threw open the door to Hob's chambers, but every ill thought spent towards his Knight's stupidity was immediately dropped as Dream found him hunched over the back of his armchair, one hand clutching at his bare chest as it rose and fell in quick succession. 

God's wounds, Dream had seen how Hob got shoved out of his saddle, how the lance had connected with his armor plate and sent him flying from his horse in one spectacular arch. But he never could have guessed just how bad it must have hurt, even through the steel and cloth. The bruise on Hob's chest was an angry black, his sides spotted with a deep red where his ribs were most definitely fractured. 

"Hob," the name left Dream's lips like a plea, like God's name would fall from a sinner's lips who prayed for salvation. And he did pray for salvation, in a way. Not his own, but salvation from endless pain nonetheless.

The man in question looked up between sweaty brows, a pained grimace painting his usual smile an ugly gray. Dream found himself by his side faster than lightning, hands coming up to hover helplessly over Hob's chest. 

Hob sighed at the concern clearly plastered into every corner of Dream's face, the way his lips tugged downwards in an obvious display of his dislike for the position he found Hob in. 

"Don't you worry for me, my Lord. I'm… fine. I'm fine, I promise." 

Tragically, the trustworthiness of this statement was negated by a heavy cough wrecking Hob's body, which left him groaning in pain over his injuries. 

"You are not fine, Robert Gadling," Dream hissed in response, hands finally coming to a rest on Hob's back. "Which is. Alright. It is alright if you are not alright. Just, please, lay down, my friend. You must rest."

Thankfully, Hob did not fight Dream as he was pushed towards his bedroom, and neither did he when Dream gently pressed him down into the mattress with a careful hand to his shoulder. His breath was still heavy and his eyes half-lidded as he looked up at Dream, something vulnerable hidden behind the dark brown of his eyes that Dream could not quite decipher in the near darkness of the bedroom. 

"Will you stay? My Lord?" Hob whispered, apparently balancing carefully between the realm of sleep and the world of the waking. 

"No duty could possibly force me from your side, my half-witted Knight." Dream responded quietly, his heart warming considerably at the soft smile that crept into his friend's eyes at the endearment, before they eventually fell close and Hob got pulled into deep and restful slumber. 

Dream placed a single feather-light kiss to the dark spot on Hob's chest before settling into the other side of the bed, his eyes fixed on the slowing rise and fall of Hob's breast. 

Hob Gadling really was an idiot.

Dream's idiot, but an idiot nonetheless.

[oldfashionedbooklove]

tell me about your favorite lm montgomery novel please <3

Okay this is SO hard because her books are amazing but I just have to admit Rilla of Ingleside is my favourite, which is saying a lot because I LOVE HER BOOKS, okay! I adore the Story Girl duology and I absolutely love the Anne series and Jane of Lantern Hill.

But Rilla. This book is a heartbreaker. And it’s so beautiful.

I don’t know if I can fully express how much is to be found in this book. I have been reading it yearly for many years, and always come away with new thoughts. As I grow older, and see more of the world, I relate and understand more, and another level of the book is discovered.

The setting—a small P.E.I. town carrying on through WWI. I’m pretty tough when it comes to war books, but I have to take breaks from this one because it is so raw and real. The agony is intense. I cannot even cry over it—my heart hurts too much for tears. This shows exactly what the Great War was for people. You sway back and forth, feeling the dread and terror. You know how it ends but you are broken anyhow. And when the end comes, you too can only rejoice softly. You feel as if you have paid part of the price yourself.

“‘We’re in a new world,’ Jem says, ‘and we’ve got to make it a better one than the old. That isn’t done yet, though some folks seem to think it ought to be. The job isn’t finished—it isn’t really begun. The old world is destroyed and we must build up the new one. It will be the task of years. I’ve seen enough of war to realize that we’ve got to make a world where wars can’t happen. We’ve given Prussianism its mortal wound but it isn’t dead yet and it isn’t confined to Germany either. It isn’t enough to drive out the old spirit—we’ve got to bring in the new.’”

The characters in this book—they are alive. Splendid Jem, brave and merry and true; Jerry, steady and dutiful; Walter, sensitive and courageous; Carl, cheerful and fearless; Shirley, honest and reliable; Nan and Di and Anne, all heart-wrung and smiling; Gertrude, tragic and grasping for hope; the Doctor, determined and self-sacrificing; Susan, simple and true—and Rilla, who starts out a silly, frivolous girl and ends a strong, mature woman. Then there are all the minor and side characters—the Merediths, Cousin Sophia, Jimsy, Ken, Irene, Whiskers-on-the-Moon & his family, Mary and the Elliotts, Norman + Ellen, and everyone else. They’re all so alive, so real, so funny and terrible and beautiful—I swear Glen St. Mary exists and all the inhabitants thereof.

The story follows the Great War, from the first days in August 1914 to the bitter Summer of 1919, where peace has come but normal will never return. As a child, this story was simply World War One—a faraway, long-ago grief and horror and agony. Now, in 2024, as a woman, I have experienced a slight taste of what the people of 1914 felt, and it has humanized the story of the War. This, more than any other book I have read, brings the War and the world of 1914-1918 to life, showing how they were people just like us. The heart is wrung by their suffering, and there is no escape, for the war must drag on for long bitter years. And the price! Walter has become the face of unknown, forgotten heroes, and Jem has become that of the scarred heroes who returned. Every November we grieve the young men who never came home, and for the ones who came home missing a part of themselves, physical or otherwise. I have wept thinking of the children of Rilla, Ken, Faith, Jem, and the others—children who fought in WWII and whose parents were forced to relive the horrible conflict of mankind.

“It has been such a dreadful week,” she wrote, “and even though it is over and we know that it was all a mistake that does not seem to do away with the bruises left by it. And yet it has in some ways been a very wonderful week and I have had some glimpses of things I never realized before—of how fine and brave people can be even in the midst of horrible suffering.”

And yet the book overflows with humour—real laugh-out-loud scenes and witty, clever banter on princes and politics. It is another aspect of the humanity—the part that cannot fully let go of laughing despite the drain. Another angle is the shrewd commentary on principalities and powers, nations and cultures, is thought-provoking, as is the remarks that show us how the war truly changed the world.

“There was a time,” she said sorrowfully, “when I did not care what happened outside of P.E. Island, and now a king cannot have a toothache in Russia or China but it worries me. It may be broadening to the mind, as the doctor said, but it is very painful to the feelings.”

But the biggest things to me is the SPIRIT of this book. The spirit of perseverance, endurance, courage, and love. Of course, man is man, and there is suspicion, contempt, and a feeling of superiority—but this is not exclusive only to Anglo-Saxons. As someone who isn’t Anglo-Saxon myself, and actually of mixed cultures, I can attest every nation is guilty of such. World War One was a battle of good vs. evil—not of man vs. man, but Idea against Idea—the idea of civilization against militarism. Perhaps not on the part of the leaders—but when one studies the writings, letters, poems, and speeches of the everyday folks caught up in the war, one sees this distinction plainly. It was not a war of European against European, Anglo-Saxon against German—it was a war between an old, terrible Idea of Prussianism (Frederick the Great, anyone?) and the Idea of Respect and Peace.

“And you will tell your children of the Idea we fought and died for—teach them it must be lived for as well as died for, else the price paid for it will have been given for nought.”

May we never forget.

A REMARK: I discovered that Rilla of Ingleside was abridged by about 4,300 words (~14 pages), so I searched for an unabridged copy. I definitely encourage you to take the extra trouble to find an *unabridged* copy. It is SO worth it! I’ve read both versions and the unabridged is so much fuller, with a great deal more humour and fun.

I just have to pick out my favourite quotes, too…

“We all come back to God in these days of soul-sifting,” said Gertrude to John Meredith. “There have been many days in the past when I didn't believe in God—not as God—only as the impersonal Great First Cause of the scientists. I believe in Him now—I have to—there's nothing else to fall back on but God—humbly, starkly, unconditionally.”

“‘Our help in ages past’—‘the same yesterday, to-day and for ever,’ said the minister gently. ‘When we forget God—He remembers us.’”

Below her [window] was a big apple-tree, a great swelling cone of rosy blossom.... Beyond Rainbow Valley there was a cloudy shore of morning with little ripples of sunrise breaking over it. The far, cold beauty of a lingering star shone above it. Why, in this world of springtime loveliness, must hearts break?

And I can’t leave without some humour:

“‘The Germans have recaptured Premysl,’ said Susan despairingly… ‘and now I suppose we will have to begin calling it by that uncivilized name again. Cousin Sophia was in when the mail came and when she heard the news she hove a sigh up from the depths of her stomach, Mrs. Dr. dear, and said, ‘Ah yes, and they will get Petrograd next I have no doubt.’ I said to her, ‘My knowledge of geography is not so profound as I wish it was but I have an idea that it is quite a walk from Premysl to Petrograd.’ Cousin Sophia sighed again and said, ‘The Grand Duke Nicholas is not the man I took him to be.’ ‘Do not let him know that,’ said I. ‘It might hurt his feelings and he has likely enough to worry him as it is.’ But you cannot cheer Cousin Sophia up, no matter how sarcastic you are, Mrs. Dr. dear. She sighed for the third time and groaned out, ‘But the Russians are retreating fast,’ and I said, ‘Well, what of it? They have plenty of room for retreating, have they not?’ But all the same, Mrs. Dr. dear, though I would never admit it to Cousin Sophia, I do not like the situation on the eastern front. [But] Grand Duke Nicholas, though he may have been a disappointment to us in some respects, knows how to run away decently and in order, and that is a very useful knowledge when Germans are chasing you. Norman Douglas declares he is just luring them on and killing ten of them to one he loses. But I am of the opinion he cannot help himself and is just doing the best he can under the circumstances, the same as the rest of us.’”

[garrien-thorne]

Warning; This is an exceptionally long post, but I've semi fleshed out the backstory for Garrien. If you read it all (or any of it honestly) I'm beyond appreciative :,)

I'm just so invested in this fictional guy in my head 😅

• For starters his was born in 9:28 Dragon, which means he was a child during the Fifth Blight!

• he grew up as a city elf in the free marches, though he did not have a family. his parents died when he was quite young. he doesn't remember much about them, and has no recollection of how they died. He has vague memories of his father singing Dalish lullabies to him, never the words but the melodies stuck with him...

he was still cared for by others in the alienage and would spend time with other families, he was basically everyone's son. the very definition of "it takes a village". They made sure he always had a place to sleep, he was always fed and clothed. Safe. Loved.

• his magic manifested when he was 8 and he was forcibly taken from his home and thrown into the Circle. When he was 9 and events in Kirkwall came to a head, an older mage helped him to escape...fearing the writing on the wall and knowing what fearful Templars could be capable of.

• Obviously a 9 year old out by themselves in Thedas, magic abilities or not, would be incredibly unsafe. He ran for a while, never staying in one place, and surviving on the sheer kindness of strangers in small villages, and his own self preservation instincts.

He was eventually taken in by an elf named Adahl'en, after he'd been chased into the woods by humans for being an Apostate, he was badly wounded and this is how he gets the scars across his face. Adahl'en found him bleeding and starving in the woods, well and truly left for dead.

After he nursed the boy back to health, he basically adopted him and that worked out well for Garrien because it meant he wouldn't be sent back to the Circle (bc for all he knew, the Circles were still a possibility, he didn't know much about the Mage Rebellion. Just that he needed to be careful who he used magic around.)

Adahl'en raised him from there on and though he knew next to nothing about magic, he did his best to attempt to teach Garrien how to use his skills. This is how Garrien ended up having his devil may care, "I absolutely will fight in melee range with this staff and there is fuck all you can do to stop me" attitude. He largely used his staff to bludgeon, instead of as a catalyst, in large part because he learned from his experiences that relying on his magic could draw the wrong sort of attention and was more trouble than it was worth.

• When he was 18, Adahl'en died. It was not a tragic death, nor was it in any way violent. Garrien honored him the best way that he knew, trying to follow the customs and traditions that he remembered from when he was just another kid in the Alienage. It was clumsy and he was certain that he'd messed it up somehow, but he knew that the man he'd come to know as his father would have appreciated the effort all the same.

• He couldn't bring himself to stay there after Adahl'en was gone, he wasn't sure what to do with himself. And being alone again sent his mind back to when he was ripped from his home...tossed in the Circle and forced to keep his head down and walk on eggshells to survive...and then pushed back out into a world he didn't know how to navigate, where many people felt justified in despising his existence. He felt like it was only a matter of time until his life took a turn for the worst again, and like the past several years were all just some brief reprieve from reality.

• So he left. He ran, more like. He didn't particularly know what he was running from, but he knew he couldn't stop. If he stopped then he would die, all the horrible events of his childhood would catch him. In a way, for those few short months after his father figure's death, he was that frightened child alone in the woods all over again.

• In 9:47 he meets and assists a group of Wardens protecting a group of miners from a darkspawn incursion, one of whom was named Ronan Thorne. He would never admit but at the time this was motivated in some small part by a subconscious death wish. He was so tired of running, of being afraid of everything around him. He was blighted during this attack and was fully prepared to finally die. But Thorne offered him another way out. The Joining.

It was sold to him as a new purpose, a way for him to be free from his fear of persecution, and a way for his life to have meaning. A way for the world to finally make complete sense and for him to have a Permanent place in it. And Garrien leapt at that chance. He survived and at age 19 he was officially a Grey Warden.

Over the next few months and his eventually arrival at Weisshaupt Fortress as a new recruit, he became close friends with Warden Thorne to the point they were like siblings. It only made sense to him that he would be a Thorne too, as a way of turning a page on his past, and to show his appreciation for the Warden that showed him a new path.

By the time Veilguard rolls around Garrien Thorne is 26 years old. He can be standoffish and extremely curt, he's wary of strangers to a pretty large degree. But he's also kind, if he sees someone in need of help he does not hesitate to offer. He remembers the people from the Alienage, how they did their best to keep him safe, even though none of them were his own blood. He remembers Adahl'en taking him into his home, and allowing him to finally let his guard down. Giving him the space to find himself and supporting him when he decided to live as a man. He remembers Ronan, his brother, who helped him find his purpose.

Garrien is good.

Those closest to him, will see him at his easiest. His voice softens and he smiles so wide at his own dumb jokes. His straightforward demeanor disappears and he seems like a completely different person. Garrien Thorne is simultaneously the stoic hero, and the easy-going bard.

[crescenthistory]

have you ever had something so significant and impactful happen to you but it’s in a really niche area that you can’t really tell anyone in your general life about, so you’re just left imploding and silently screaming???? it’s hell 😭😭

very long story made semi-short; my found family and i have attended and contributed to a live action role play camp twice a year for almost a decade now that’s based on hogwarts/the hp universe and really fucking well made by a skilled team. and you get really fucking attached to these characters because for a few weeks every year you live as them and make friends as them and it’s REAL even though it’s not. my last character was so fucking devastating and important to me, and she had this epic tragic love story with my best friend’s character. we haven’t played them since we finished their storyline in 2023. AND MY BEST FRIEND WAS JUST ASKED TO RETURN AS THAT CHARACTER FOR THIS YEAR’S CAMP????? that’s HUGE, the game masters never make requests like that and it’s super secret but he told me (because it would be cruel not to with our characters’ backstories) and i’m just reeling with shock and excitement and fear. like i’m left REELING at the fact that i get to see him again (him being my bsf’s old character) (bc when you finish playing someone you never get to “see” them again uknow? it’s a whole thing) and also at what this means and all the wounds from the two of them are opening up again and we’re just DYING. we have no idea why he was asked back or what will happen it’s INSANE YOU DONT UNDERSTAND. to deal with it all i’m knitting and crocheting him a bunch of different things that my character has made for his (they live together on her family farm and she uses crafts and art to cope</33) and we’re just literally crying. i love them, they’re sunshine x sunshine and literal soulmates — i made that character based on the concept of what would happen if a sensitive, creative child had the most gentle and accepting parents who cultivated kindness. and then there was a war and her parents were fucking killed offfffff and it was such a huge thing. she lost her leg, her boyfriend lost his eye. it was a whole thing. i’m jittery with emotion and handcrafting at god’s speed because this camp is in three weeks and i’m just. dying. and screaming. my poor wife. (dw she attends the camp too and is screaming with me)

[desultory-novice]

I recently found out that “weekend Susie” is a mistranslation and it’s actually called “susie on vacation” in jpn. I’m pretty sure she’s supposed to be Susie in the future like Manager Magolor..any ideas on why shes missing her hairclip and the “Secretary” title she always has in jpn? Susie is so hard to figure out..like how she only smiles three times in the entirety of robobot (once when she takes the program controller and twice when singing the noble haltmann but ONLY when saying the words father in jpn) so I’m curious on what your thoughts are on her (and unfortunately has the worst localization ever…i had to look at the robobot translations from @/kaialone on tumblr) sorry for rambling but shes so interesting to me and it’s a bit sad seeing how a lot of the details she has in characterization never get talked about

Anon...Did you somehow know I've been replaying Robobot in Japanese?! And it's basically strengthened my confirmation that some people - though less than before - are a bit too harsh and/or restrictive in their takes on both Susie and her father. 

That said, I do I try to give people room to "safely hate" these fictional characters as, for a lot of people, it may be one of their only ways of processing a gross problem that affects the real world/so much of history that they can't do much about.

But I love the silly/tragic Haltmann family. I'm sympathetic and even semi-defensive towards 'em. Which is why I'm happy to answer any good faith Haltmann asks.

Ahem! Also, before I get into it, I wanted to say that technically "Weekend Susie" vs "Susie on Vacation" is not a mistranslation per se.

What it IS is a localization.

休日 can mean "vacation," yes. When you break down the kanji, literally it is made up of the words "rest day." So it can also be just about any day when you're not working/not at school/not busy.

For most of western civilization (not me because I'm a contractor XD ) the weekends are people's "rest days." To read 休日 as "weekend" might not even be that much of a stretch/localization!

Probably explains the lack of "secretary" title. She's literally not on the clock! As for the hairclip, who can say...? Similar reasons? I know in Susie's case, it's sentimental, though hairpins in Japan often have this association with studiousness/"time to get serious" so removing it is an easy indicator "She's allowing herself time to be silly!"

I do like to imagine that this is a post-canon Susie though. That girl deserves something nice after her trauma...

Anyway, reminder that post-FL, the localizers have been working more closely with the Japanese team to create a more accurate translation for us. I know the wounds from PR's rough translation (and SA's fast-and-loose in weird places one) still hurt, oof, but the Kirby series is getting better about its translations!!

Actually... you know... there's not THAT many cutscenes...

Maybe I will make my own "If they'd hired Dess to translate Planet Robobot" translation of the game? I've already threatened several times to do a full translation of "The Noble Haltmann" with all references/metaphors intact...

But yes! Speaking of how Susie uses her emotions, I was so moved by something in her first meeting with Kirby, I actually wrote about it! And I'm going to share it here, because you might find it interesting~

-

So, I had my eyes peeled for any interesting bits of characterization left behind on the cutting room floor. Immediately, I was amused by how politely Susie talks to Kirby in the beginning. She doesn't really "talk down to him" or insult his intelligence in the slightest. (One could argue that it's a false business politeness, of course. Although she only breaks that in like, the second to last cutscene) Any dismissal of him feels very "company-mandated." (And the company is run by a murderous computer but leaving that aside...)

She gently praises how beautiful the water and the air on this planet is and that's when something... starts to change in her...

Susie gets impossibly sad. And her attitude changes COMPLETELY.

I stopped for a second reading this. "Hold on. What? Why does she lose her cool HERE? Is this some indication that the place she and her dad used to live on was a really poor planet without clean air and drinking water?" And heck, maybe that is the case!

But something else struck me about her line:

"...You don't even know the value of what you have..."

It's not the snooty we-know-better-than-you "misappropriation of resources" that is triggering her. It is having something precious right next to you and you don't even recognize it.

It's about her dad. Right from the beginning.

She can't NOT talk about it. It affects all her actions. Maybe another reason while I feel like it's better to judge Susie on a whole than any one individual action she takes, because (like Magolor, oops oops oops) she is masking her intentions alllll the time.

Also, omg, I know some people are still sensitive about the Mechaknight thing but that is PEAK grim humor in Japanese! It is treated way too cold and business-like in English, imo.

In Japanese, she starts to describe him exactly like she's telling her bestie that she just met the man of her dreams and then the WHAM line: "So, I gave him a full-body modification!"

Yes, it's unhinged. But it's also wonderful. (She's so Eggman-core.)