#transcendence ch 7

[chuuyasporkie]

hello my beloveds, happy weekend! chapter 7 of transcendence is up! in-chapter warnings do apply, but here’s some of my fav scenes as a treat! 🫶🏻🥰

[frankcastlescumslut]

Ch. 2: Hard Times

pairing: frank castle x f!reader / platonic!amy bendix x f!reader

word count: 3.7k

warnings: angst, language, hurt/comfort, implied loss of a sister (no details), descriptions of wounds, established relationship yet somehow it’s a slow burn

summary: He somehow reached across space and time to tell you the words you wished you had heard that night: you didn’t do anything wrong. None of this is on you. Frank had become a god, transcending the laws of physics to piece you together with sutures and sympathies.

A/N: I wrote this chapter based off of this song. loosely. sorry this isn’t the happiest of endings, I’m leaving it open ended in case I get the momentum to keep going (there is a potential plot).

[previous chapter]

I love your feedbacks and comments so much, thank you. reblogs help a lot as well <3

The stars looked like pin pricks against a dark sheet, so bright you had to squint to make sense of your surroundings, but there was nothing to make sense of. Just black asphalt laid out like a red carpet.

Your body ached and groaned as you stretched ever so slightly, and Frank pretended not to notice the way you winced when you pulled your shirt from your dried wound. 

He cleared his throat, trying to distract you. “Mornin’.”

“Mornin’,” you yawned, checking the dashboard. 

1:42am. 

The last time you stopped was somewhere in Ohio at a run down 7-Eleven. Amy threatened to jump out of the van if she didn’t get a slurpee, but you couldn’t really blame her, it did sound good, so Frank was outnumbered like he usually was. 

That was hours ago, though, and you found Amy curled against the duffle bags with a ring of blue food dye around her lips.

“How far are we?” You prodded. 

“Few hours.” 

“Oh.”

Frank was a man of few words when he first met you. It took him three days just to ask you for an extra blanket when he met you at that motel in Nebraska, though he chalked it up to his unnatural ability for needing something. Didn’t wanna bother you.

You were patient with him, never pressing him about the occasional bruise or poorly hidden glances, instead choosing to talk about how vending machine chips are basically just bags full of air and how mattress stores are money laundering operations—he laughed at that, fully and with his chest, and it was game over for you both. 

Yet somehow you were sitting within a foot of each other and felt like strangers. 

“Do you want me to drive?” You offered, daring to look at him. He looked worn, his eyes drooping with sleep.

“No,” he answered too quickly. “I’m okay.” 

“Maybe we should stop somewhere?”

He was silent, unwilling to admit defeat. Stoic. Stubborn. A pain in the ass that kept you awake with a fevering bullet shaped gash in your side. 

You would make yourself power through the pain if it meant he would be normal again—if he would even look at you for more than a second and without what you perceived as disdain. You would pretend that each day you had Amy didn’t feel like salt being shoved into your sister-sized wound. You would lie through your teeth and tell him that you were capable of keeping up, that this life was enough for you. Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. 

“We’ll stop at the next motel.” He looked over at you, his eyes trailing towards the rust colored stain on your shirt. Your cheeks burned underneath his gaze, and all you could do was nod in reply and watch the constellations blur. 

“Wake up.” A breathy voice tickled your ear, causing you to jolt upright in your seat.

“Damn it!” You cursed before placing a palm against your sternum, ignoring the way the seatbelt burned against your exposed neck.

Amy was pleased by your reaction, carelessly falling back into her designated makeshift seat of a jacket tucked against the back of your chair. Frank didn’t crack a smile. 

“Knock it off,” he warned, his eyes quickly darting towards the backseat. 

“Oh come on,” Amy whined. “It was funny.” 

“I actually disagree,” you chimed in, your heartbeat still racing. 

“You’re no fun.” She pouted, slouching against the hard interior. 

Frank would disagree, though. You were fun. Charismatic. Lighthearted. 

He missed that version; the one where you existed alongside of him with ease, the one where you convinced him that joy existed and was accessible to people like him, to people like the both of you. 

It felt foreign to him, the easiness of it all, but he gave up rejecting his need for self denial when he met you. Because you were fun. 

“We’re stopping soon,” he cleared his throat and those distant memories of you, and you nodded with a “k.” 

“I have to pee,” Amy broke her secret vow of silence, probably just to hear herself speak. 

“Hold it,” you and Frank spoke in unison, and you couldn’t help but chuckle. 

You often wondered what he was like as a dad. If he was the silent and stern parent, always fussing with light fixtures and the underside of a truck. Maybe the kind that cared a lot about grades but even more about after school sports or school projects. Really, you think, he’s the kind of parent that just enjoys his children’s joy, never getting in the way of what was causing it— a winning soccer match, a new video game, a carousel. It didn’t matter anymore, anyways, and you were too scared to ask him about it. 

So you didn’t, and you don’t. You never do, because you’re not really sure what you would say if he ever asked about your sister. Some things are better to be speculatory, you decided, until Amy came along. 

She acted like a secret maneuver that would draw back the curtain on what Frank Castle was like as a father, and you seldom looked away. 

“Sheesh,” she muttered, and you hid a smirk behind the palm of your hand. 

It was silent for the next few miles, save the occasional clanging of weapons every time the van fell victim to a pothole. It was silent even as Frank drove past the first motel. Then the second one… and the third. 

Amy eventually caught on, sitting on her knees and looking out the window like a dog with its ears flapping in the wind. 

“Where are we going?” she asked. 

Frank was quiet, eyes still straight ahead, even as he pulled into the parking lot of a neon green Holiday Inn. 

“A hotel!” Amy squealed, throwing herself in Frank’s general direction, ignorant to the way the car swerved due to her affections. 

He watched you from above Amy’s head, thankful she was blocking the smirk on his face as your brows furrowed in his direction, silently asking are you sure? 

He was sure. He had made up his mind hundreds of miles ago when he first saw the blood soaked cotton of your shirt, but he wouldn’t dare to tell you. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Amy let out a sigh of relief, loud enough that it was dramatic even for her. 

Frank was silent as he dug around in a back pocket before handing you a thick wad of cash. You failed to meet his eye as you accepted the offering, opting to nod with a tight lipped smile as a thank you. 

“Get the biggest bed you can get!” Amy called out to you before the door swung shut in her face. 

She pulled herself into the passenger seat and sat back with a huff and a genuine smile on her face. Finally, she thought. 

Frank’s eyes were trained on the entrance of the hotel. He watched you pull your jacket across your body, attempting to hide your ghastly appearance, as you leaned against the counter. The woman at the front seemed reasonable, he assumed. You both smiled at one another, so things must be okay. 

“Frank,” Amy attempted to disrupt his attention 

“Not now.” 

She watched the way he studied you, almost disgusted by the way he withheld his care and affection from you. 

“Frank,” she tried again.

“What?” He snapped, finally meeting her gaze. 

“You really need to fix whatever this,” she pointed a finger from his chest to the hotel lobby, “is. It’s a little ridiculous.”

“There’s nothing to fix.” He straightened ever so slightly.

“Bullshit.” 

He was thankful she dropped the conversation when she did. It wasn’t that he was unwilling to admit there was a palpable tension, he just didn’t know how to fix it. He thought the hotel would be evident enough that he was sorry, but you pulled the door open a little too roughly for that to be the case. 

“Here,” you handed him a rectangular card.

“Two keys?” Amy asked. 

“That’s for your room. I got my own.”

“What?!” She scoffed and Frank clenched his jaw.  “Are you serious?” 

“I’m right next door.” You began to unload the van, carefully slinging a heavy bag around your good side. You tried your best to hide your inconspicuous smile, but it was harder the more you thought about the king sized bed assigned to you. 

Amy and Frank trodden heavily behind you as you made your way through the empty lobby and towards the elevators, not without waving towards the kind faced woman at the front desk. 

“You’re actually leaving me alone with him?“

“You'll be fine, Amy.” You rested your head against the back of the elevator wall, closing your eyes in surrender as the metal doors slid together. 

“That’s not fair,” she whined; you half expected her to start stomping her feet. 

“Life ain’t fair,” Frank finished the argument as the elevator came to a bumpy halt. You barely opened your eyes to glance at him, surprised at the way he nods, as if giving you permission to be alone. 

You aren’t sure why you became shy and why your cheeks warmed. Maybe it was the way his eyes had softened ever so slightly, or maybe it was the gratification of him acknowledging you made a sound decision for once—that you were capable, even after your extreme fuck up just hours earlier. Either way, the softness lingered as you found your rooms. 

The cool air hit Frank’s face as a pleasant surprise, though the cleanliness, the luxury, felt burdensome.

“You have to apologize.” Amy claimed her bed, minding the way her sneakers dirtied the white sheets.

“Yeah?” He huffed, remembering he should be offended by your lack of appreciation for the new scenery. “For what exactly?”

“You’re being a dick!” She exclaimed, slapping her hands against her crossed legs. “I’m serious, Frank. It’s my fault.”

“It’s nobody’s fault,” he sighed.

“Okay, great, then stop blaming her for it.”

“I’m not.” 

“Sure.” 

The hum of the air conditioning filled the room as Frank stood awkwardly, thrumming his fingers along his thigh while Amy pretended not to notice.

“‘I shouldn’t have left you alone, okay?” He leaned against an empty dresser, still unwilling to find comfort in the queen-sized mattress. 

“She did what you couldn’t do,” Amy mumbled and he grit his jaw in response. “I was the one that called for pizza, okay? I wasn’t thinking. It was on me and I’m still alive, so go say you’re sorry.” 

Being still was a foreign concept for Frank. He was constantly moving, hard wired for productivity and precision, scoffing at the mere idea of rest. His neurons exploded even in his sleep, unable to ignore the zap zap zap that kept him moving, kept him alert, kept him alive. It kept you alive.

He ran through the numerous possibilities and outcomes of apologizing to you in his overtired head, filtering through his own remorse and your indignation. 

Fuck it, he decided, ending his marathon around the room. 

“Don't call anyone. Don’t move from this bed. Don’t answer the phone and don’t answer the goddamn door,” he placed his hands on his hips, emphasizing his seriousness. “Understand?” 

“Roger that.” Amy saluted him as he neared the door, unable to hide her smile. “Use protection!”

Just as his hand reached the handle, he paused. “What did you just say?” She audibly laughed at the mixture of disgust and genuine shock plastered against his face. 

“Go kiss and make up!” She shooed him away, and she swore she saw him smile before he disappeared.  

The bathroom mirror shook in a steady succession following the slams of heavy doors. It was constant, and you almost considered complaining before remembering that this was a luxury compared to your previous hideaways. 

It wasn’t always so bad, though. Before Amy, it was exciting— like a cheap thrill that you hadn’t felt since you were 16, sneaking out of a bedroom window and choking down a stale cloud of smoke. There was a monumental lack of pessimism between you and Frank; he brought life back into you, and for once you didn’t feel guilty for living. 

So you accepted the cheap motels and fried foods, never minding the greasy-lipped kisses. You welcomed the sun beaming on your bare feet when they laid across the dash as you drove nowhere. You loved the way your stomach felt full as you drank a beer, pretending you weren’t hiccuping while Frank sunk an 8 ball in a top right pocket. You loved the nights spent in a dirty dive bar where you didn’t have to think about who the fuck you were for at least a few hours. You loved it, and then he told you to run before bullets started flying. 

The knock on the door was so faint you almost missed it over the sound of your cursing. 

It was him—you knew it was him. He had an aura so thick it bled through walls. 

“Y’gonna open the door?” 

No. 

Maybe.

The door opened with a metallic click, though you didn’t care to hold it open. He shoved himself inside, feeling like an intruder. 

You studied your irritated wound in the mirror, continuing your attempts at cleaning and suturing it. The sting of the alcohol wipes hardly compared to the pair of eyes transfixed on the evidence of your failures. 

“You okay?” What a stupid question. 

“Fine.” What a stupid question. 

Fine. It wasn’t a complete lie, though you avoided meeting his gaze at all costs. He could see right through you, hell, he could feel the resentment radiating off of you. 

You didn’t have to distract yourself from the emotional distance; your attention was spent on unwrapping the much too small steri strip from its packaging to notice the way he awkwardly balanced his weight. 

“Shit,” you cursed as the first suture folded over on itself.

“Do you need—“

“I got it.” 

You really tried, but it was impossible to see the wound over the mound of your breast, and you could hardly twist your waist enough to get a decent angle. You decided to go in blind, completely embarrassed but unwilling to admit defeat. 

The sticky strip landed incorrectly, directly atop of the ragged flesh, and you yelped as it adjusted. 

“Let me get that,” he didn’t wait for your protest before inviting himself into the small bathroom.

“It’s fine, I got it,” your fingers shook as you attempted to pry the suture from your skin, salty tears splashing towards the floor. 

You dropped your hand against your hip and audibly exhaled as he assessed the wound. He was hardly offended that you refused to look at him. Truth be told, he could hardly look at you without having his whole chest be filled with the weight of his own shortcomings. 

He hated when you cried, especially at his own doing. You could blame it on that searing pain of torn flesh instead of the heavy burden of disappointing him, so you did. You pretended that the only pain you felt was the physical kind as you stood in front of him, half naked and bleeding, as he sat on the lip of the bathtub.  

In any other situation you would have taken advantage of this position, cupping the back of his neck before sliding between his legs, waiting for him to pull you into his lap. But it’s different now, and you almost flinch as his calloused fingertips carefully brush your skin.

“You ready?” He asked, waiting for your permission before hurting you all over again. 

You nod while stare at the ceiling, counting the porous tiles, bracing yourself for what is to come. 

He tried to get the stitches and bandages ready as quickly as possible, prepping them on his knee as he gave the countdown. “One, two, three...” 

“God damnit!”

The world became nothing but splotchy stars and radio static as your flesh ripped apart all over again, and you bit down on your knuckle, focusing on that dull ache that took your attention away from the way Frank was piecing you together again. 

“I’m sorry.” He sounded muffled, his silhouette splotchy, but he held you together with nothing but cheap butterfly sutures and a half assed apology. 

“I know,” was all you could muster out, breathing in that last bite of fight you had in you. 

“Y’gonna stop poutin’ then?”

You jerked away from him, your nostrils flaring as you looked over his bent frame before turning on your heel, leaving him in that makeshift emergency room. 

He almost regretted saying it, almost, but there was nothing worse for a man than putting himself out there and being disregarded, so he sat there, counting the bloody wash cloths and discarded bandages until he felt that familiar sense of carnal  responsibility. 

You were changing when he finally came about, his imaginary tail tucked between his legs. It felt wrong to look at you, to see the way your bare back curved and folded before disappearing beneath an oversized shirt—his oversized shirt. 

It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen you before, with your body on full display as he appreciated every inch with a soft brush of his lips. He had seen you, tasted you, held you, but this time it was different.

“Look,” he cleared his throat to signal his presence. “I’m sorry.”

“You done?” You ignored him as you pulled the starchy sheets back, but he wrapped a hand around your wrist, forcing you to look at him. 

“Hey,” his eyes softened and voice dropped. “I mean it.” 

There was an invisible argument happening as you both held onto the white sheet. You knew. He knew. Someone had to give in. Someone had to break first. Someone had to bare their soul and damnit were you tired of pretending. 

“Well it don’t feel like it.” You gave in, and for a minute, you sounded as tired as you felt. 

He ran a hand over his face with a sigh and you took the opportunity to sit on the first clean mattress you’d seen in months before bracing yourself against the sturdy headboard. 

“Sometimes,” his hand twitched at his side as he contemplated his next sentence, “I look at her and all I see is my Lisa.” Your eyes shot towards his face at the mention of his daughter, and it was hard to ignore the painful knot in your stomach. “It’s like I’m losing her all over again and I—“

“Frank,” you leaned towards him, and the mattress sunk next to your feet. 

“I just can’t do it again, y’know?” He looked at you, tears brimming on the waterline but never daring to spill. “I can’t do it again.”

“You won’t. You won’t do it again.”

You said it as if you were a god, fully capable of aligning the stars and galaxies and writing history. You said it as if you were able to predict the future—a future where Amy was safe in an undisclosed location and you and Frank were, well, somewhere. 

He huffed at that, and rightfully so, though you tried to convince him anyways. 

“I’m sorry,” you attempted to shift the blame, “I didn’t know that she ordered food, I should have paid attention. I should have known better, I should have—” 

“Hey, hey, hey” he placed a hand on your leg. “Quit it.”

“I’m sorry, Frank. I didn’t mean to mess up.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I’m sorry, I tried,” you could feel the uncomfortable knot lodged in your throat but you couldn’t push it down. “I swear I tried.”

It was embarrassing the way the hot tears left patterns against your white cotton shirt as they fell. You weren’t really sure why you were crying or who you were crying for. Amy was still alive and tucked into a bed just behind another door, but your sister was somewhere else entirely. 

“It’s not your fault,” Frank attempted to intervene, gently scooping you into his side. You let him, though not without feeling so incredibly selfish. He rubbed your arm, in a steady motion, squeezing lightly for his own emotional support. “I’m sorry for taking it out on you. I shouldn’t have left you guys alone. You shouldn’t have had to clean up my mess, okay?” 

You nod into his chest, wishing his words didn’t feel like a cheaply made sympathy card. 

“None of this is on you, you understand? You didn’t do anything wrong.” He placed a kiss against your temple, and you folded into him even more.

He somehow reached across space and time to tell you the words you wished you had heard that night: you didn’t do anything wrong. None of this is on you. Frank had become a god, transcending the laws of physics to piece you together with sutures and sympathies.

It was quiet for a while save for the muffled lull of the obnoxiously cold air conditioning. You missed this—the feeling that life could go on, that you were enough for him, that the silence didn’t signal an impending doom. 

“Stay,” you whispered. 

“Hm?”

It was silent as you considered your next move—play dumb or give in, going belly up for a few more minutes of playing pretend.

“Can you stay?”

It was silent for another minute, but his breathing shifted and you held your breath.

“Sweetheart,”

“I know. I know she’s next door,” you tried to make his decision easier. “Can you just stay until I fall asleep?” 

“Sure.”

It was less than convincing, but he kissed your neck before sliding himself down the mattress and pulling your body into his stomach. 

You curled into yourself, hugging a pillow against your face before deciding it was too soft. This, you and Frank, felt too soft after a week of sleeping in different beds and communicating through glances and strategies to stay alive—to keep Amy alive. It was different. Too soft and still not enough. 

He felt the emotional shift as your body tensed, snaking an arm beneath the crook of your neck before reaching for your empty hand. You followed directions without a second thought, intertwining fingers and limbs with a relaxed sigh before your world went dark.

He stayed, like he said he would, watching the numbers on the clock face ascend.

It was unfair to you, he thought, that he was splitting his attention between you and a young girl he barely knew. It was unfair that he had to uncurl himself from your body and walk next door to a bed that would be too cold, too empty, too soft and pretend that he didn’t just abandon you. It was unfair that he brought you along to something he wasn’t sure how to finish. 

The bed dipped as he forced himself away from your warmth. He held his breath, silently praying you wouldn’t notice his absence. You looked calm for the first time in a long time, since before you both became honorary foster parents and ran from men that looked like they were on a pilgrimage. You looked so calm, and he tucked his invisible tail between his legs again while pressing a kiss to your shoulder, letting out a final sigh of resignation before disappearing behind a closed door. 

You were too tired to move. Too tired to leave that spot that still smelled like him if you closed your eyes and inhaled. You knew he was leaving, only pretending as a courtesy to his feelings, though you couldn’t help but wish the metallic click of the door was a gun aimed directly at your chest.

[lucysarah-c]

"Look at them," Mike complained, exhausted, leaning against the stone wall of the kitchen, sipping watery tea. He, in love but past the honeymoon state, observed the scene like a tired mother with hands full of children watching young couples at a fair. Hange, in no better state, rested beside him, drinking their own tea slowly, transcending calmness and transforming into annoyance. "God, their happiness upsets me somehow," they said, like a neutered animal that didn't understand the sweet call of nature during spring. "It's so annoyingly sweet," then added with mockery and a hint of disgust, "Awww, being in love." "The sight of it makes me want to gag somehow." "Says the one who has his tongue pushed down his girlfriend's mouth 24/7," Hange pointed out with a soft chuckle against their cup before sipping. "But I do it with grace," the tall dirty blond defended, their eyes glued back on us who were just preparing our rations for the trip together, doing absolutely nothing other than that, but apparently, it was unbearably mawkish. Mike scoffed, annoyed as if it was too much to bear, rolling his eyes. "God, it's unbearable to see... to see it and know that Erwin is not seeing it! Where is he when I need him? I wish I could unsee it." Hange chuckled and said, "I can unsee it." The other squad leader turned to his right to raise a confused eyebrow, only for the brunette to raise their glasses, rest them on the top of their head, and reply, "Done, now I can't see shit." Both began to chuckle, adding one joke after the other to beat the deadly morning. To the point that Moblit was passing by and looked at both, confused. "What's up?" Before Moblit could say much, Mike surrounded the other guy’s neck with his arm and pushed him closer and slightly upwards so both of them could be on the same level. "You see that, Moblit?" Mike whispered as he softly pointed at Levi and me across the room. Groaned reply as Moblit struggled to stay in tiptoes. Confused honey eyes looked at us briefly before fixing his eyes' attention back on Mike from the corners as he was still pushed upwards. "THAT," the blond put emphasis on the word by pointing in Levi’s direction with his free hand that was still holding his cup, "That’s the face of a man that has been delactosed." Hange spat up the tea and coughed, "MIKE! For fuck's sake! THE MENTAL IMAGE," Moblit grimaced in disgust. "Oh come on," Mike chuckled, "Don't play delicate with me. I bet you were thinking it too." There was a soft silence as Moblit got released, but the three of them remained there against some kitchen wall admiring at the distance. "To think that my bestie got cuckolded in my face, and I didn’t do anything. Brotherhood is dead," the former Humanity’s strongest soldier commented with a soft faked tone of disappointment on the situation or of himself. Hange looked at him silently for a couple of seconds, pondering about saying out loud or not, and then, as natural to them to hold little back, commented, "Are you talking about Nile? The biggest cuckold of all your friends? Or was that part of the brotherhood union too?" While Moblit chuckled slightly too loudly for their taste and hid his face between his hands, Mike stared at the brunette lifeless but also defeated. "Nothing to argue against that logic." "HA! That’s what I thought."

Mike calling Levi a "lactose - free" guy is simply... Magical 🤣

Upcoming ch. Of Holy Ground

[dilemmaontwolegs]

This Month: June 2023

The Aftermath || LN4 {Nine} {Ten} {Eleven} {Twelve} A Little Longer || CL16 Tangled Up In You || MV1 Another Lie {5} || Max’s Ending Riding Shotgun {2} || CL16 & PG10 Already Gone {6} || MV1 Pick Ups || CL16 blurb A Taste of Temptation || DR3 {part two} Expensive Affection || CL16 Licence to Thrill || CL16 Story Time || LN4 & MV1 blurb All That Matters || CL16 Schrödinger's Cat || MV1 Running from the Flames || PG10 {Epi 1/2} Sibling Rivalry || MV1 Sod’s Law || LN4 Playboy || PG10 {Two}

Coming Soon:

Running from the Flames - Epilogue The Taste of Temptation Pt.3 Already Gone Pt.7 Sibling Rivalry Pt.2 Playboy Pt.2 The Aftermath Pt.13 & Epilogue Too Good -Prequel

Requests: closed

This is so I can finish the F1 series and make my way through the ones I have already received 💕

Last Month: May

Wild Nights || CL16 - Epilogue Running from the Flames || PG10 {Ch.27} {Ch.28} {Ch.29} [Ch.30} The Aftermath || LN4 {One} {Two} {Three} {Four} {Five} {Six} [Seven} {Eight} Leap of Faith || CL16 - blurb Riding Shotgun || CL16 & PG10 Too Good || MV1 - blurb Already Gone || MV1 {One} {Two} {Three} {Four} {Five} Going Public || CL16 - blurb Another Lie || CL16 - part one || part two || part three || part four || five - Charles Transcending Time || CL16 The Best Kept Secret on the Grid {3} - multi-driver smut

[fuckmeyer]

oooh bestie i just read your jasper gift-as-curse analysis (agree 100%!!! it fucks severely!!!!) and in your tags you mention thinking of all of the cullen "gifts" as curses and...i am going actively insane thinking about rosalie in that frame. like? her beauty carries over! and it's a curse in that people see that first and her second and assume that she's shallow...but also that was true in her human life as well and becoming a vampire seems like it maybe allowed her to transcend that and realize what was fucked up about her human experience??? WILD

Rosalie's gift is also a curse, but unlike Jasper's, i find it heartbreaking

it's a curse in that people see that first and her second and assume that she's shallow

VERY true. but the consequences of extreme beauty go beyond people chalking her up as shallow.

part of Rosalie's curse is that there are many aspects of her life where her looks play a role. & going through life requires either a degree of illusion or a degree of doubt.

for example: how many times as she been given— or been overlooked for— opportunities or merit because of her attractiveness? how many relationships has she tried to make, only to find the foundation of said connection was built on— or marred by— her looks? if Edward bothered to see past what he perceives as Rosalie's vanity, would they be closer as siblings? or, put another way:

In the first second that Emmett saw Rosalie, he saw a goddess whom he had worshiped without cease ever since. (Midnight Sun, Ch 6)

i'm not saying Emmett's love isn't real. but it's also clear he's immediately attracted to Rose physically; even decades later, their love is described as "intensely physical" (Ch 7). worshiping implies a degree of separation; there's a pedestal, a blindness, in the kind of love Emmett shows her. if she was average-looking, would he love her as she is, as an equal, without worship? would he even give her a second glance?

part of the curse is never knowing what's real. either she lives with a degree of doubt, or she lives with a degree of illusion.

another part of Rosalie's curse is that she also falls into the trap of seeing her face first and herself second. now, do i think Rosalie is vapid & a "stagnant pool of few surprises" (Ch 1)? no. she has a personality, she has hobbies outside of tending to or enhancing her beauty. but we do see her mesmerized with herself:

She’d caught sight of her profile in the reflection off someone’s glasses, and she was mulling over her own perfection. No one else’s hair was closer to true gold, no one else’s shape was quite so perfectly an hourglass, no one else’s face was such a flawless, symmetrical oval.

& we also see her play up her beauty in the vehicle she drives & the clothes she wears. she cannot look away from herself.

however, this is where i think we see yet another facet of Rosalie's curse. that is, being the most gorgeous vampire of the Cullens, there is a degree of intense scrutiny that comes with Rosalie's beauty. for all the illusion/doubt it brings her, she must be constantly aware of it. because this scrutiny is two-fold:

1) unlike someone like Alice who can pass as androgynous & is overlooked physically, Rose does not have the luxury of breaking traditional gender expectations lest she draw even more attention to the coven. in a sense, Rosalie is under more pressure to flawlessly perform the rituals of gender conformity because anything outside of the norm will be noticed more easily.

2) beyond that, the degree of attention she receives means she must constantly perform in a human sense, too: twitching, blinking, moving, behaving, etc. in this way, her looks become a hindrance to her vegetarian lifestyle.

so, she is cursed in that she's the face of the Cullen family & under pressure by the coven & society to perform. even if she wanted to escape her beauty, she cannot.

becoming a vampire seems like it maybe allowed her to transcend [her beauty] and realize what was fucked up about her human experience

but it kinda...didn't?

don't get me wrong, it did in some sense. as mentioned, Rose has picked up hobbies, dreams, & a personality. we do see her transcend her appearance; however, her beauty still traps her for the reasons above.

& to be honest with you bestie, it wasn't vampirism that allowed her to transcend her beauty. because if she had been turned, say, the day she got engaged, what kind of vampire would we see? her final days, her looks gave her everything she wanted, & now she ends up as the most ravishing creature on earth in the socioeconomic class she wanted. Rosalie wins. i'm not saying she would have wanted vampirism if she had been turned in better circumstances. but she would certainly be more divorced from reality, & i doubt she would find it as necessary to transcend her beauty since it got her what she wanted & confirmed her worldview.

it wasn't the vampirism that allowed her to transcend her beauty. it was the rape.

the rape tears the curtain back. the rape shows her all that glitters isn't gold. the rape teaches her that in the end, her beauty couldn't, & would never, save her. the rape tells her what a woman's place is in her world. the rape forces her to realize: for all Rosalie's beauty, she is awarded nothing, she is entitled to nothing, she can do everything right & still lose. the rape is what necessitated a change in Rosalie's beliefs.

i find Rosalie's curse heartbreaking because i do not doubt she has thought about this when she looks in the mirror.

she's more attractive now than ever, but that is what put her in that position in the first place. she's come to this horrific realization at an even more horrific cost. & everyone around her compliments how beautiful she is; everyone dreams about how wonderful their lives would be if only they could be so beautiful; everyone wishes they could be as beautiful as Rosalie Hale...

meanwhile, Rosalie sits with the uncomfortable idea that the thing that gave her everything she wanted is the same thing that led her to her rape, to her death— hell, Carlisle figured she'd make a good wife for Edward, so even her turning was a result of her beauty— & is now the very thing that traps her in a life she never wanted, performing eternally in a spotlight that will never dim.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Going through the new parts for CH 7 and seeing all of the foreshadowing about getting seriously hurt on the battlefield (Silver warning us to be careful and Lillia getting hurt to protect Silver) makes me think that Lillia will wake up when Silver gets seriously injured and the memories of his life as a caring father will flood in and wake him up from the dream.

[Referencing this post!]

Yeah, that could be it! 🤔 Definitely not going to rule that out as a possibility. It could confirm to us that Lilia and Silver’s bond is one that transcends races (and hey, maybe that’ll be that “ah-hah” moment (or contribute to it?) where Silver is so moved that he realizes he wants to be known as “Silver Vanrouge”—).

I do find it interesting how Lilia (even when he’s at a point where he distrusts humans and says he’ll leave them for the monsters in the forest if they step out of line) instinctively protected Silver when he was in danger. He claims he dislikes the idea of having to mentor others or being a guardian figure, but Lilia just… naturally does the mentor/guardian-like things anyway 😂

Maybe it’s his subconscious calling out to the still sleeping Lilia, telling him to protect his adopted son from danger at any costs… 🥺 which is actually really sweet, if that’s the case.

[tarosophical-tarot]

03/06/2023:

Today's Lunar Mansion "Al-Na'am" signals success in questions involving a quest or reaching a goal - if we have been searching for an answer then the time is auspicious for finding it: "in this Mansion make images to tame wild and disobedient beasts" (Picatrix, book 1, ch.4)

The question I asked of the cards today was in respect of a current ongoing "conflict", seen here as J♦️ "upon his breast he carries a quiver of arrows, symbolic of destruction; in other words the quiver of arrows symbolises that the soul must depend upon the country through which we sojourn for sustenance. It also means that we are to let go of yesterday as being forever dead, while the cant hook (his staff) is a symbol of hope + faith in the future." (MA Pottenger)

The A♠️ in itself resembles an arrow-head, shooting forth to release us from our "yesterdays", especially given its inherent meaning of cutting-off from the past.

Here it is replicated in 7♠️ where Fortune resides today (also chosen as a random factor by the dice) - the Fixed Air of Moon in Aquarius highlighting problems stemming from established patterns of behaviour that need to be examined and cleared.

Has an area of conflict arisen and you find yourself behaving in the same old way in response?

Venus in Scorpio 7❤️ indicates that you have a way of making others around you feel secure enough to loosen their inhibitions, inciting trust ensuring that interactions are always positive - but with Fortune residing in a "random" situation today, 7♠️ we are not behaving at our best with those who don't really know us (we are connected to them but only distantly - they interact remotely and we've not met in person).

Everyone should of course yearn to transcend personal limitations and separateness from others - but some relationships trigger unresolved childhood complexes.

It is here in our repeating patterns of behaviour the the A♠️ must cut us free - in order to allow for personal growth and progression. 6❤️

[thegrllldiaries]

history on palestine in the quran: source alkaham.org

God Almighty revealed the Holy Quran to Prophet Muhammadsa for the guidance of humanity. This Holy Book of Allah the Almighty foretells many future events to strengthen the faith of the believers and enlighten those who seek understanding and truth. One such Divine revelation concerns the fate of Palestine. Allah the Exalted states:

وَلَقَدۡ کَتَبۡنَا فِي الزَّبُوۡرِ مِنۡۢ بَعۡدِ الذِّکۡرِ اَنَّ الۡاَرۡضَ يَرِثُہَا عِبَادِيَ الصّٰلِحُوۡنَ۔ اِنَّ فِيۡ ہٰذَا لَبَلٰغًا لِّقَوۡمٍ عٰبِدِيۡنَ۔ وَمَاۤ اَرۡسَلۡنٰکَ اِلَّا رَحۡمَةً لِّلۡعٰلَمِيۡنَ۔

“We have recorded in the Book of David, after the exhortation, that My righteous servants shall inherit the Land. Herein, surely, is a message for those who are devoted to worship. We have sent thee only as a mercy for the universe.” (Surah al-Anbiya’, Ch.21: V.106-108)

In Tafsir-e-Kabir, Hazrat Mirza Bashir-ud-Din Mahmud Ahmad, Khalifatul Masih IIra have discussed the above verses at length.

Hazrat Musleh-e-Maudra explains that Allah the Almighty says in these verses that after some exhortations in the book of Psalms, He declared that the inheritors of the Holy Land will be His righteous servants. Herein, there is a message for people who truly worship Him. And God has sent the Holy Prophetsa as a mercy for all.

The aforementioned prophecy of the Bible states, “The righteous will inherit the land and dwell in it forever.” (Psalms, 37:29) However, one should not be misguided by the [temporary] dominance of the Israelites on the Holy Land, i.e., Palestine, because this prophecy also signifies that if the opportunity presents itself, the righteous servants of God will again prevail over this country.

Hence, God conveyed this message to the Muslims that a time will come when the Israelites will occupy the Holy Land.  The word ‘abidin [people who worship Allah] is used here to refer to the prophecy of David[as] in the book of Psalms. God forewarned the Muslims to be watchful that if at any time they show weakness in becoming His servants, Allah the Almighty will bring the Israelites back to Palestine. However, if the Muslims become true worshippers of God again, they will prevail anew.

Moreover, they should also realise that the mercy of the Holy Prophetsa is timeless and the era of Prophet Muhammadsa does not end with the triumph of the Israelites over Palestine. In fact, the mercy of Allah’s Messengersa transcends all ages, i.e., the periods before and after the occupation of the Israelites.

Thus, one should not be dismayed, as when divine mercy showers again, the Muslims will triumph once more in Palestine. (Tafsir-e-Kabir [2023], Vol. 8, pp. 105-106)

Explaining this prophecy of the Holy Quran, the Promised Messiah and Mahdi, Hazrat Mirza Ghulam Ahmadas says:

“It is clear from this verse that al-Ard, which refers to the land of [Greater] Syria, will always be inherited by the righteous people, and as of now, it is in the possession of Muslims.

“Allah the Almighty has not used the word “يَمْلِکھَا” [in the aforementioned verse] but in fact said “يَرِثُھَا”. This manifestly shows that the true heirs [of Palestine] will always be Muslims, and if it goes into the hands of some else at some point, such a possession would be similar to a scenario in which the mortgagor gives temporary control of their property to the mortgagee. This is the glory of Divine revelation, [and it shall surely come to pass].” (Al Hakam, 10 November 1902, p. 7)

Based on the divinely inspired commentaries of Hazrat Musleh-e-Maudra, The Five Volume Commentary of the Holy Quran also presents an overview of the prophecy under discussion. In the explanation of the verse 106 of Surah al-Anbiya‘, it states:

“By الارض (the land) is meant Palestine. It is worthy of note that Christian commentators themselves have interpreted the phrase ‘inherit the land’ or ‘inherit the earth’ in the Psalms as meaning, ‘inherit Canaan, the pledge of God’s covenant.’ (Commentary on the Old Testament, published by The Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge, London, notes on Ps. 37:‌3, 9) The reference in the words, ‘in the Book of David’ is to Psalms 37:‌9, 11, 18, 22 & 29, where it is stated: 

“‘For evildoers shall be cut off; but those that wait upon the Lord, they shall inherit the earth. But the meek shall inherit the earth; and shall delight themselves in the abundance of peace. The Lord knoweth the days of the upright; and their inheritance shall be forever. […] For such as be blessed of him shall inherit the earth; and they that be cursed of him shall be cut; The righteous shall inherit the land, and dwell therein forever.’

“The word الذکر may also refer to Torah, the Book of Moses. There is a prophecy in Deuteronomy (28:‌11 & 34:‌4) that Palestine was to be given to the Israelites: 

“‘For when I shall have brought them into the land which I swore unto their fathers, that floweth with milk and honey; and they shall have eaten and filled themselves, and waxen fat; then will they turn unto other gods, and serve them, and provoke me, and break my covenant […]. And the Lord said unto him, this is the land which I swore unto Abraham, unto Isaac, and unto Jacob, saying, I will give it unto thy seed.’

“The Israelites rose to great power after Moses[as] and in the time of David[as] and Solomon[as] their rule extended far and wide till it embraced in its orbit far-off lands. Then they fell on evil days. They sinned and transgressed and killed God’s Prophets with the result that Divine nemesis overtook them. First Samaria was conquered and ravaged by the Assyrians about 733 BC and the whole country north of Israel was annexed by them. Then under Pharaoh Necho, the Egyptians ravaged Judah in 608 BC and last of all the greatest blow fell on Israel when Nebuchadnezzar, the Babylonian king, laid waste Judah, killed in cold blood the inhabitants of Jerusalem and burned and razed the holy Temple of Solomon to the ground and carried away in captivity the members of the royal family and their Prophets. After wandering in wilderness for about a century the Israelites were restored to Jerusalem and to some of their lost glory through the instrumentality of Cyrus, the Persian king and his successors. To this restoration the following passage of the Bible makes a prophetic reference from the mouth of Moses: 

“‘And it shall come to pass, when all these things are come upon thee – thou shalt return unto the Lord thy God, and shalt obey his voice according to all that I command thee this day, thou and thy children, with all thine heart, and with all thy soul; that then the Lord thy God will turn thy captivity, and have compassion upon thee, and will return and gather thee from all the nations, whither the Lord thy God hath scattered thee […]. And the Lord thy God will bring thee into the land which thy fathers possessed, and thou shalt possess it; and He will do thee good, and multiply thee above thy fathers.’ (Deuteronomy, 30:‌1-5)

“Again, the Israelites relapsed into sin and iniquity. They opposed and persecuted God’s Messengers and the cup of their wickedness became full to the brim when they hung on the cross Jesus[as], their last great Prophet. Then God’s wrath fell upon them. The Roman hordes under Titus attacked them in 70 AD and amid circumstances of unparalleled horror Jerusalem was destroyed and the Temple of Solomon was burnt down for the second time (Encyclopedia Biblica & Jewish Encyclopedia under ‘Jerusalem’). To this double disaster of the Israelites verses 17:5-8 of the Quran make a pointed reference. 

“Palestine, the Holy Land, remained in the hands of Christians till Muslims conquered it in the Caliphate of ‘Umar[ra], the Second Successor of the Holy Prophet[sa], and unlike Nebuchadnezzar and Titus he accorded such benign and kind treatment to the inhabitants of Jerusalem and showed such respect and reverence to the Temple of Solomon as are unparalleled in the whole annals of foreign conquest.

“It is to this conquest of Palestine by Muslim arms that the prophecy embodied in the verse under comment particularly refers. Palestine remained under Muslim possession for about 1350 years with the exception of a brief space of 92 years when during the Crusades it changed hands, till in our own time through the evil designs of some so-called democratic Christian powers, the country of the name of Palestine has altogether ceased to exist and on its ruins the State of Israel has been built. The Jews have come to their own after wandering in wilderness for about 2000 years. But this great historical event, too, has taken place in fulfilment of a Quranic prophecy. The Muslims were told that in the time of the Promised Messiah[as], the Jews will be made to come back to their Holy Land from the ends of the earth (17:105). But this is only a temporary phase. The Muslims are destined to win it back. Let the whole world know that sooner or later – sooner rather than later – Palestine will revert to Muslim possession. This is a Divine decree and nobody can alter God’s decree.” (The Five Volume Commentary, Vol. 4, pp. 2122-24)

In Tafsir-e-Kabir, Hazrat Musleh-e-Maudra explained that through Prophet Mosesas, Israelites were informed of two catastrophes and also told that their possession of Palestine would not be permanent. Rather, they would occupy it at first and then be expelled. After some time, they will occupy it once more and yet again lose dominion over it. These divine words of Allah the Almighty were fulfilled with sheer glory and greatness. Its details can be studied in Surah Bani Isra‘il, where Allah the Almighty says:

وَقَضَيۡنَاۤ اِلٰي بَنِيۡۤ اِسۡرَآءِيۡلَ فِي الۡکِتٰبِ لَتُفۡسِدُنَّ فِي الۡاَرۡضِ مَرَّتَيۡنِ وَلَتَعۡلُنَّ عُلُوًّا کَبِيۡرًا۔ فَاِذَا جَآءَ وَعۡدُ اُوۡلٰٮہُمَا بَعَثۡنَا عَلَيۡکُمۡ عِبَادًا لَّنَاۤ اُولِيۡ بَاۡسٍ شَدِيۡدٍ فَجَاسُوۡا خِلٰلَ الدِّيَارِ ؕ وَکَانَ وَعۡدًا مَّفۡعُوۡلًا۔ ثُمَّ رَدَدۡنَا لَکُمُ الۡکَرَّةَ عَلَيۡہِمۡ وَاَمۡدَدۡنٰکُمۡ بِاَمۡوَالٍ وَّبَنِيۡنَ وَجَعَلۡنٰکُمۡ اَکۡثَرَ نَفِيۡرًا۔

In other words, God Almighty had revealed to the Israelites in the Bible that they would certainly cause strife in this country [of Palestine] twice. And surely, they would gravely transgress. Thus, when the time came for the fulfilment of the first of these two atrocities, God gave strength to His servants against them. They were fierce warriors who entered their houses and this divine warning was bound to be fulfilled. Then, God restored the power of the Israelites against their enemy. And Allah the Almighty aided the Israelites with wealth and children and also made them stronger in number than ever before. (Surah Bani Isra‘il, Ch.17: V.5-7)

In the coming verses 8-9 of Surah Bani Isra‘il, God Almighty says:

فَاِذَا جَآءَ وَعۡدُ الۡاٰخِرَةِ لِيَسُوۡٓءٗا وُجُوۡہَکُمۡ وَلِيَدۡخُلُوا الۡمَسۡجِدَ کَمَا دَخَلُوۡہُ اَوَّلَ مَرَّةٍ وَّلِيُتَبِّرُوۡا مَا عَلَوۡا تَتۡبِيۡرًا۔ عَسٰي رَبُّکُمۡ اَنۡ يَّرۡحَمَکُمۡ ۚ وَاِنۡ عُدۡتُّمۡ عُدۡنَا ۘ وَجَعَلۡنَا جَہَنَّمَ لِلۡکٰفِرِيۡنَ حَصِيۡرًا۔

“So when the time for the latter warning came, We raised a people against you to cover your faces with grief, and to enter the mosque as they entered it the first time, and to destroy all that they conquered with utter destruction. It may be that your Lord will now have mercy on you; but if you return to your previous state, We too will return, and We have made Hell a prison for the disbelievers.”

It is evident from the above verses that the land of Palestine was promised to the righteous servants of Allah the Almighty. Since this promise was made first to the Jews, they reigned over it. However, while bestowing this land to them, God Almighty also imposed some conditions and said that after some time, He will take away this land from them because of their transgressions. (Tafsir-e-Kabir [2023], Vol. 8, pp. 107-108)

Hazrat Musleh-e-Maudra also clarified that some people mistakenly believe the triumph of Jews over Palestine as the end of Islam. Their viewpoint asserts Muslims’ loss of Palestine as proof that they are no longer regarded as ‘righteous servants.’ However, if the momentary occupations by the Babylonians and Romans during the time of Mosesas and Davidas are not considered to have abrogated their respective laws, it is irrational to term Muslims’ loss as a sign of Islam’s abrogation.

Thus, the temporary loss of Palestine by Muslims is consistent with the prophecy of the Holy Quran, where the return of the Israelites is not indicative of Islam’s abrogation but rather substantiates its truthfulness. The concept of ‘temporarily’ losing the land of Palestine clearly aligns with the Quranic promise asserting that ‘righteous servants’ will inherit the land, and it clearly means that, despite all the efforts of the global powers, the decree of Allah the Almighty will prevail, ensuring the eventual return of Muslims to Palestine and the establishment of their rule. (Ibid., p. 113)

[web5studio2]

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[hollandorks]

middle of the night - masterlist

*this fic is complete*

battinson!batman x f!reader

summary: y/n’s life changes immensely, starting with the Batman falling out of the sky right in front of her and ending with a promising new job at Wayne Manor. As her life intertwines with that of both Batman and Bruce Wayne, she begins to figure out that there’s more to both than meets the eye

find it on ao3

Playlist

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Epilogue

oneshots, blurbs, bonus chapters:

Chapter 28 & 29: Bruce’s POV

Partners -- set about a week after ch 31 (NSFW)

Domesticity -- a fluffy oneshot 

the ring -- Alfred POV blurb

the proposal -- set post ch 31 before epilogue

transcendent -- Bruce's POV of ch. 30

[journeytothewestresearch]

Taoist Work that Influenced JTTW

https://journeytothewestresearch.com/2022/03/13/archive-34-understanding-reality-a-taoist-alchemical-classic/

I’ve archived the the Wuzhi pian (悟真篇, “Writings on Understanding/Becoming Aware of Reality”, 1075), a Song-era work of Buddho-Daoist philosophy by Zhang Boduan (張伯端, a.k.a. Zhang Ziyang, 張紫陽, mid to late-980s-1082) (fig. 1). Shao (1997) expertly shows that Zhang’s writing had a huge impact on the standard 1592 edition of Journey to the West (Xiyouji, 西遊記) (see especially ch. 4). For example, the reason that the first half of Sun Wukong‘s story (ch. 1 to 7) is Taoist heavy (i.e. his quest for immortality and later ascension to heavenly rank) is because this follows the first part of Zhang’s philosophy, which is attaining the golden elixir (jindan, 金丹). And the reason the second half (ch. 14 to 100) is Buddhist heavy (i.e. building merit by protecting Tripitaka on the pilgrimage west and the rise to Buddhahood) is because the second part of Zhang’s philosophy involves attaining the Buddha-Mind. Combined, these achievements make someone a true transcendent, one free from the wheel of rebirth. 

A line from the Wuzhi pian is a prime example of Zhang’s stance on those who strive only to attain the elixir: “A halo behind the head is still a phantom; / Even when clouds rise beneath your feet you are still not an immortal” (Zhang, Liu, & Cleary, 1987, p. 161). This explains why Monkey is banished from heaven and imprisoned under Five Elements Mountain. He has yet to attain the Buddha-Mind.

[chuuyasporkie]

im so happy to see u active here!!!! will u be answering the chapter comments as well? i left one earlier tdy n im too shy to turn off anon here but i love ur humor n replies sm author 🥺🥺🥺

hello, lovely! when have you ever NOT known me to answer the comments?? i always answer them on the third or fourth day after the chapter release as i do keep a very busy schedule, but fear not! I WILL GET TO YOU!!!! and you can be anonymous all you want <3 im just happy to have you here!! <3

[mayrubyy]

Clouded III

➻ Pairing- Chanyeol x Reader  ➻ Genre - Angst + Fwb! 

➻ Word Count - 3.7k  

➻ Rating - (M) Warning! this contains strong language, fwb, sexual and angst themes that are intended for mature audiences. Please don’t read if you’re not comfortable with the said themes and if you’re under 18! 

A/N - hey guys, so.. it is time to say goodbye and i was always full of hope and love for this series. sadly, it won’t see the light of day like i hoped for but in all it’s unfinished, glory, i present to you ~ Chapter III of Clouded.

This is my last post. So, farewell. 

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.  ･ ｡ × fragments=͟͟͞͞evanescent-lucid͟͟-transcending × ｡･ .  

Wayfaring aimlessly, you were drenched from head to toe and your senses were heavily distorted. The icy pellets of rain were unrelenting, not gentle in the slightest as they slapped against your skin. Streaks of lightning pierced through the forlorn sky in iridescent veins of electric and purple.The wind kept howling around you, the violent rainstorm having no mercy as it obscured your vision. Cars were zooming by at full speed, splashing puddles on to the pavement in their wake and when thunder roared above you, it sparked some kind of urgency in you as if the universe was telling you to take that one step forward, one step closer to starting a new chapter of your life– only you couldn't fathom that by doing so you were inviting trouble. 

All you could think of was Chanyeol and you found yourself knocking at his door, in the dead of the night.

Moreover, being completely soaked to the bone and nearly shivering to death wasn't fun. A mild wave of panic coursed through your body when you realized he wasn't answering the door. You rang the bell a few more times, begging, hoping and praying he was home. 

But, it was all drearily for nothing. 

Just when you were about to give up, you heard him shuffle. His footsteps thundered across the hallway and with a hasty turn of the knob, the door was ineptly flung open. The light fixtures in the foyer did little to illuminate his features, flickering about as they swathed his tall form in subtle hues of orange and gold. Chanyeol stood before you like a tower, silhouetting the buttery glow of his apartment and for a fleeting second, you couldn't decipher anything. Your mind was swirling in a heart stopping haze, his cologne dominating your senses as you stood there, wavering under his gaze. He rubbed his own bleary eyes, looking dazed and spaced out in the soft light, hair a complete mess, perhaps from wearing headphones. His breathing was erratic, chest tight against his shirt as it rose and fell, elucidating he had dashed all the way to get the door. To get to you. 

"Y/N?" He faltered, gaping at you with furrowed brows. "Wh-what are you doing here?" He asked you, dipping slightly to look at the expensive watch that adorned his wrist. "It's like one in the morning," ruffling the crimson locks away from his face, he tilted his head to the side like a lost pup and an awkward wave of silence crept between you two. The frigid air was stinging and your damp shirt was unpleasantly clinging to your body, the dewiness itching and nibbling away at your skin. Quivering in your bones, you wrapped your soaked arms around yourself and stuttered through chattering teeth. 

"Ch-Chanyeol… I'm c-cold."

"Fuck– my bad." He shuffled from one feet to the other before cautiously leaning towards you. "Here, let me–," then carefully draping his arm over your shoulder, he lead you inside, the warmth of his body effectively engulfing you as he did. The minute you set foot in his apartment, you were taken aback by how huge and spacious it was. And oddly enough, it was welcoming and cozy– just like him. 

It wasn't an ordinary apartment at all. It was rather luxurious for an undergrad and you could say you were mildly shook. You caught a whiff of coffee coming from his kitchen and some beats blaring through the headphones that sat tacitly on the counter. He was after all, much to your relief at home and completely immersed in music. That's why he couldn't hear you ring the bell or knock the door. He clumsily hooked his leg around the scaffold of the stool and dragged it closer to the island. Gently squeezing your shoulder, he ushered you to sit and after you quietly perched yourself down on the stool you looked up at him. His gorgeous pair of eyes sparkled as they met yours and deep in your heart, you felt relieved for having someone like him to rely on. A shoulder you could lean and cry on. 

"You, alright?" he asked you, concern swirling in his dark orbs. You kept your head low and nodded while he paced towards the coffee-maker and quickly grabbed a mug from the cupboard. He poured the hot liquid into it and scampered back to you. "You might want to have some. It'll help you warm up." He mumbled, voice deep and soothing to your ears. His fingers brushed softly against yours as you took the mug from him. "You probably need a warm bath too. I'll be right back." And with that he hurried away again, disappearing into the bedroom this time. He seemed anxious and quite restless like he didn't want to linger around you. 

You began to fret you were bothering him for turning up unannounced and so out of the blue like this. For a good moment you were contemplating whether to leave again. The door was right there, maybe you should...but your limbs had failed you. Your joints were beginning to ache and there was a sharp pain seeping through your nerves from the cold. Feeling defeated and worn out, you winced as you brought the rim of the mug to your lips and sipped quietly. The warmth from the coffee slowly began spreading down your throat and into your empty belly.

Your eyes flickered around the apartment as you placed the mug back down on the counter. A huge shelf made of glass had intrigued you. It was filled with action figures, a collection of sorts, of Chanyeol's favorite manga and anime characters. There was a record player sitting by the same shelf which had a robust and vintage feel to it. And, a glass door beside it leading further into something that looked like a mini studio, with guitars racked neatly in a corner and some dreamcatchers celestially hooked to the wall above them. The other end was adorned with the One Piece flag hanging on the wall which confirmed his addiction to all things Japanese. It was adorable. You squinted through the glass door again and found a desktop– an iMac sitting right in between the space with acoustic diffusers surrounding it. You could tell Chanyeol was very passionate about music. You had once heard him play the guitar at a local club on a weekend but you didn't know he had a whole studio in his exquisite apartment like this. 

Your bestfriend Kyungsoo had told you that Chanyeol was from an affluent family. He was in the Basketball team along with your boyfriend Taehyung. Highly competitive and charming to a fault, musically talented and really tall, kinda clumsy with a goofy grin and big fluffy ears– that was all you really knew about him. 

It was at a party after a match that Baekhyun had introduced you to each other. And, all you could vaguely remember was playing beer pong and getting drunk out of your mind. Taehyung had abandoned you in the middle of the party and the next day, you found yourself waking up on top of Chanyeol. It sure as hell was fucking awkward, you recall. Although, he had chuckled nonchalantly and assured you that you were just woozy and beyond sloshed. That you held him tightly and wouldn't let him go till you were out cold and passed out on the couch. Chanyeol went as far as calling you cute that day and you felt your face go embarrassingly crimson and returned him with a sharp punch to his gut, making him groan frantically. He did put up a dramatic show that day because he loved attention and took much pride in teasing you. 

Quickly enough, your little encounters with him followed. You ran into each other at the games a lot. More mini trips to 7-Eleven at the campus, talking about music and other things that amused you and you came to realize that you both had a lot in common. You were beginning to grow fond of his company everytime Taehyung left you hanging. And whenever you'd get anxious you'd end up texting Chanyeol asking if Tae was at the game. 

Chanyeol would facetime you and tell you that guys like to go into their little caves from time to time. That it wasn't anything you should be worrying about. Although, to your shocking revelation, it was far from an ordinary man cave. Your world turned upside down after Chanyeol ran into your boyfriend making out with one of the cheerleaders in the locker room. 

He kept it from you for two weeks before fidgeting and stuttering, then finally spilled everything out and suggested you moved on from Taehyung. That it was for the best. At first you thought it was some kind of a pathetic joke but turns out, it wasn't. 

You'd never felt so broken and so ditched. You felt ridiculed and helpless. Taehyung never really cared to bring the matter up. And when you asked him if he was seeing anyone, he simply told you not to be ridiculous, persuading you to drop it with all things romantic and velvety later on. You were starting to feel sick of his behavior. Of course it was you who was being delusional and not him shoving his tongue down someone else's throat. It must have been so easy for him, right? 

As the weeks flew by, your mind hopelessly drifted back to how your boyfriend would rather spend the weekend with some chic who'd had sugar, spice and everything nice and honestly, it wasn't fun or healthy for you to fret over him anymore. It made you dizzy, made you want to throw up. He was cold blood lying through his teeth. He was cheating on you and you'd had just about enough. 

Barely hours ago, you'd stormed out of Taehyung's apartment after having a nerve wracking argument with him. Completely blinded by rage you wandered forcefully in the streets until it had started raining violently. And then it dreadfully occurred to you that you had absolutely nowhere to go. Kyungsoo wasn't in town and the last person to cross your mind was Chanyeol. His apartment was around the corner and of all the people, you never really fathomed you'd end up knocking at his door all doused and a drenched mess like this but here you were.  

You balled your fists and sniffled quietly, trying to stop the tears that were welling at the corner of your weary eyes. Chanyeol was still nowhere in sight while the beats continued blaring from his headphones from the other end. You wiped a lone tear that had trickled down your right cheek and returned your attention to the white foam swirling delicately in your mug, trails of steam dancing above it. 

"Y/N?"

You heard Chanyeol's voice echo from within the room. You quickly placed your elbows on the counter and ducked your head to conceal your tears away from him. 

"The bath is ready. You'll find the clothes on the dresser. And, I– uhm, I have some bath bombs. If you wanna use them. Go ahead." Chanyeol reappeared scratching the back of his head, his lips had curved into a daffy smile. 

"You have a...g-girlfriend?" It wasn't that you were curious but you knew you shouldn't have blurted that out so mindlessly. It was obvious. It was so goddamn obvious. He's a young adult, a drop dead gorgeous one for fuck's sake. He plays basketball and guitars, has got a whole studio of his own and must have plenty of girls over. You couldn't have been more nuts to ask him that? You mentally shrug and cuss at yourself. 

"What?" Chanyeol looked at you as if you were delirious. "Uhhh, no? I don't." He mumbled, a huge pout adorning his lips. "I'm not.. really.. in a good headspace for love." He crossed his arms and leaned against the door. "Also, love is fucking illusive, you know?" 

Illusive? Is that even a word? You both eyed each other intently and the more you looked at him the more you were mystified by his words. You bit your lip quietly and urged him to continue, "tell me more."

"How about you get out of those clothes first." Chanyeol's voice was barely a whisper. He then furrowed his brows but his expression quickly morphed into an awkward one like he was ready to pull his hair out. "I mean, you must be cold –not that– I– fuck–.." 

Another wave of awkward silence crept between you two and he began pulling at his hair frantically. "That sounded awful.." He stomped about cursing and letting a string of fucks slip out of his tongue again. He then collapsed to the floor and hid his face dramatically in his hands. You couldn't help but chuckle at his actions and wheezed loudly enough for him to peek from between his fingers to look back at you. He slowly loosened up and smiled quietly to himself. "I'm serious." He walked towards you and sat himself on the stool, "don't want you falling sick, babe." 

Chanyeol looked at you adoringly, the apples of his cheeks were glistening, still blushing pink. "You done with that?" he pointed at the mug. You took one last sip and nodded, never taking your eyes off him. "I am." You pushed the mug towards him and his fingers found their way around the porcelain again, brushing softly against yours like they did the first time. You mouthed a soft 'thank you'. He darted his tongue out to wet his lips while you continued gazing back at him, mesmerized by his pink fluffy ears. A hearty smile fluttered on his lips as well as yours. He wrapped his long fingers snugly around yours and whispered back to you, fondness gleaming in his eyes. 

"Don't worry about it, baby."

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The lump in your throat was gnawing its way slowly down to your chest as you helped yourself out of your damp clothes. Your head was starting to spin again when you finally caught a glimpse of your disheveled state in the mirror. You mocked yourself cynically and wondered why Chanyeol wasn't mortified, hadn't gasped and shut the door back in your face. You looked ghastly but he was being far too sweet with you. He was gentle as ever, taking your icy hands that had gone numb into his huge ones, rubbing them together to get them warm and whispering sweetly and huskily that it was alright, that you were safe in his hands now. 

The more you looked at yourself the more you felt exasperated like you were wallowing away in wades of self pity. Your eyeliner was smudged around your dreary eyes as though someone had beaten the living crap out of you. And, being alone by yourself again only allowed the bitterness to creep back into your heart.

'Love is illusive' Chanyeol had accented and you couldn't help but dwell on the thought as you ensconced yourself into the steaming tub, allowing the lush scent of lavender to cloud your senses. The water soaked and engulfed you in a lukewarm trance, washing away the remnants of the rainstorm that had pierced your fragile skin not merely an hour ago. 

"Love's like a game– a game you just can't win." 

Chanyeol's words echoed in the back of your mind. He kept citing whilst showing you the way to the bathroom. He can't just be saying that to make you feel better would he? He looked pretty suave and confident saying he didn't have time for romance but then again with a charming aura like that he could get any girl at any shack. It would be his call. You had no hint or clue about his past flings although he'd grown to be so close to you. However, somewhere deep in the pits of your broken heart, you felt like you've known him for years even though you'd only started talking to him merely months ago. 

As much as you wanted to drown your thoughts into the night in the tub, you couldn't keep him waiting. If it wasn't embarrassing enough he'd heard your stomach growl to which he had softly grazed your cheek with his thumb and asked you to hurry up, rasping away that he'd cook you something. You were in fact enthusiastic about wanting to give him credence for his witty nuances about love and join him back in the kitchen. If you were a damsel in distress– Chanyeol was your knight in shining armor. You chuckled at the thought and huffed away, blowing and lifting some of the delicate foamy bubbles that were settled on your knees. 

Perhaps, it really was time to turn the page to a new chapter in your life. "Fuck you, Tae." You spat bitterly, soapy suds slithering down your dewy, glistening body as you rose to your feet, planting them firmly on the ceramic underneath. "Fuck everything." You crouched again and pulled the stopper out, watching what was left of the effervescent mixture of lavender whirl about and get sucked into the drain, taking along with it parts of you that you no longer wished to carry the burden of. 

You felt like you deserve the chance to clear yourself of this mess and you were willing to explore what the universe had to offer you now. If it had so spurred you into risking hypothermia enough to end up at someone's door who could in fact be your saving grace. Someone who believes that love is all but a load of bullshit, then maybe Park Chanyeol might actually be the one for you. And, you could definitely rely on him to help you piece your broken heart together without having to worry about the perpetual matters of love. You wanted to step into the light, without having to look back again. 

And you were glad you could seek the light past love and its hazy horizon for once.

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A hoard of concerns were lurking before you. With all your clothes soaked and dirty now, including your garments, you stood in front of the dresser, scratching your head in confusion. 

Huffing away, you put Chanyeol's t-shirt on which had engulfed you completely, all the way down to your knees. The most frustrating part however, were the shorts he picked for you. They didn't sit at your hips at all and had drooped down your legs the minute you put them on, instantly piling at your feet. 'How the fuck am I supposed to secure this?' You fretted, shrugging as you picked them back up. 

You tried again but failed miserably. It would be fucking awkward walking back into the kitchen, dressed only in his shirt. You had absolutely nothing on underneath. Fuck. It's not like you were going to touch him or anything. You can manage this and maybe he won't notice, right? It was your last resort and you quickly had to make your mind up. Out of nowhere you heard your stomach growl again. It was either do or die now. You had to decide. 'I'll keep my distance from him and he won't bat an eye' were the words you chanted to yourself before leaving the bedroom. 

As you walked back into the living room, your ears were invited by the soft music playing from the record player, the one that was by the glass shelf. You stopped by the dining table facing Chanyeol's back who was busy in the kitchen. The aroma of pancakes whiffed through the air and the atmosphere was perfectly cozy. Although, you didn't dare move from the table and decided to keep yourself away and at a distance. Then Chanyeol turned around and his eyes flew wide open in surprise. 

"What the fu– ...you startled me." He yelped, placing the pan back on the stove and clutching at his heart. "I thought I already had you stricken with horror when you first opened the door," you snorted, "I looked horrendous, didn't I?" Chanyeol simply shook his head in denial and retorted with a playful smirk. "You looked quite hot. I'm not gonna lie."

"Shut up, Chanyeol." You felt your face flushing an awful shade of pink at his remarks. "It's the truth, babe." He quipped, whirling about and chuckling away as he returned his attention towards cooking the pancakes again. "Come here, you need to eat!" he called out and your limbs immediately went limp. 

"Um, can you place it on the counter for me?" you purred, requesting him in your humblest tone. "I'm..kinda.. in a fix here." Your voice wavered and when Chanyeol turned around to look at you again, he grinned sheepishly. "What's wrong?" he asked you as if he had no clue what you were going on about.

"It's an embarrassing...outfit situation." You cleared your throat and Chanyeol quickly mouthed an 'oh'. "It doesn't sound like much of a problem to me." He rasped, dripping maple syrup on pancakes. "Your belly needs some food and that's more important." He then brought the plate with the freshly made pancakes and placed it on the counter and ushered you warmly to join him at the island. His voice suddenly grew a little stern. "Come on now before it gets cold." His sudden strictness made you chuckle. He possibly can't get more adorable than this, can he?

"Fine." You faltered in your steps and met him at the island. Thankfully, the structure blocked a good amount of distance between you two. When you settled down on the stool, he handed you the fork and you started taking measly bites out of the plate. Chanyeol watched you intently, his arms were propped up against the counter, hands cupped around his face as he gaped at you in awe. "Stop looking at me like that. You're making me nervous." You mumbled in between bites. He gave you a squinty eyed grin before snatching the fork away from your hands and making you gasp. 

"Geez baby, you're supposed to wolf it down." He cut through the pancake haphazardly and jabbed at a huge chunk, "like this." He then shoved the massive bite into your mouth and a muffled moan left your lips as you swallowed it down. "This will fill you up." He then glanced  at your lips coated with the sweet syrup hazily and mumbled huskily in his deep voice. "God, I could fill you up."

Of course you were going to choke upon hearing what he had just said. You wheezed frantically and couldn't pluck enough courage to look him in the eye anymore. Your heart thundered in your chest as you squirmed and scooted anxiously away from him, a faint blush spreading over your cheeks. You could tell he was violently biting down on his bottom lip, shutting his own eyes close, as tightly as he could. 

You both were awfully quiet again. Too embarrassed to take the conversation any further. But then Chanyeol interjects, breaking the awkwardness, "I didn't mean to…" 

 "D-don't.. worry about it," you bite on your own lip and jab at your pancake with your fork. He looks at you cryptically, "are you sure?" 

You nod your head and lick your lips and when you do, something triggers Chanyeol and he quickly gets off his stool and much to your relief walks back to the stove with an excuse to make you more pancakes. You try to gobble the rest of the pancake as quickly as you can while trying your best not to dither about what had just happened. As soon as you're done, you pick your plate up and scamper towards the sink but Chanyeol blocks you. "Woah, hold up. You're not done eating until I say so." He looms over you and his voice is yet again, stern and you push him away and boy you wish you didn't. 

The second your palm came in contact with his abs  through the fabric you knew you fucked up. You could feel the ridges and he was so perfectly packed and built. The girls at uni, they were right. Park Chanyeol was irresistible and you were only inches away from him.

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A/N ~ 

this is it guys. it’s broken and full of errors lol. i lost the doc that had everything written beyond this.  i had wiped my drive for work last year and other reasons. anyway,  i’m happy you made it this far with me in this clouded journey. if you wish to find out what happens after, feel free to ping me i’ll sum it up for you, sweet & short, only if you really wish to find out how these two end up haha. but yeah. this is it. i haven’t got anything else to say. so yeah, stay safe and most importantly, be happy. love y’all. <3

Taglist ♡  @loeyprivvv @littleflowercrown13 @wifechungha  @rashidamesrur  @mindofthescattered @zessafg @always-wishing-for-rain  @brazilianbasicbitch @kpopfessions-blog @baek-byunies @j-pping @godexosblog @hansolturnt @anyh0w @fire-poppyqueen @smolmel @nanasupremacy​ @chanyeolparkriswu✧  Note - If I have forgotten to tag anyone! I’m sorry, I lost the doc where I kept track of you guys so, this is all I got. 

[meteorstricken]

Sephiroth Week Day 7 Prompt: Redemption

Apotheosis Ch. 7: On Salvation

Sephiroth descended, returning to the plane of the Lifestream that reconnected him with the realm of time. He was in it, but not subject to it. No timeline took possession of him; no path could force him to travel it. The first thing he'd bind up were their crossroads and turnabouts. They flocked and swirled around him--echoes of outcomes competing for the one that he'd choose to reign supreme and true in the final turn of events. There was, of course, but one finale that he'd accept--the one where he completed his original mission to merge with the planet.

In that last battle, with only one timeline left and full of the knowledge he'd acquired by transcending it, he'd divide his consciousness and place himself in the orbit of every sun throughout the Cosmos. At his command, all at once, the explosion of billions would grant him the spirit energy of every living thing.

But he was not content with victory alone.

First, in retribution, he would guide Cloud and his companions down a path that allowed them to catch glimpses of the power he exerted over the fabric of existence. He would deceive and tempt yet teach them, so that when they faced their end, they'd know that saving their own lives and planet as they knew it could only come at the much greater cost of allowing the Cosmos to tear itself asunder. He knew they'd still resist him, but he'd offer alternatives they'd never accept, and when they clawed their way, panting, to that last fight, they'd lack the morale to struggle at full strength.

Twisted in confusion, no longer able to discern between the planet's will and his, or if the planet was truly acting in its own best interest, it was possible they'd turn on one another.

As a phantom, he walked the path, manifesting at opportune moments to remind Cloud of where he'd failed along this trek in another timeline. He led them on until they collapsed that old one--the one the planet had designated--themselves.

Fate was no more monstrous and empty; it was he.

"Seven seconds 'til the end. Time enough for you...perhaps. Let's see what you do with it."

~FIN~

[rebbestorah]

“Heels Over Head”

The Torah portion Eikev begins with the verse, “Because (eikev) you listen to these laws and safeguard and keep them, G-d your L-rd will keep His covenant and kindness that He swore to your fathers.”1

The Hebrew word eikev not only means “because,” but also “heel.” Thus Midrash Tanchuma2 explains that “these laws” refers to mitzvos that seemingly lack significance, so that people tend to “ignore them and cast them under their heels.”

Superficially, it would seem that the Midrash is inferring that these seemingly unimportant commandments are treated so lightly by some individuals that they do not observe them at all.

However, if this were indeed so, what is the connection between their non-performance and their being “cast under the heel” — if they are not performed at all then they are “cast out entirely,” not merely “cast under the heel”?

Truly, the Midrash is not referring to people who maintain that these “insignificant” mitzvos need not be performed, and surely it does not allude to those individuals who defile them by casting them under their heels.

Rather, the Midrash is making reference to those persons who recognize that all mitzvos are to be performed, no matter how inconsequential they may seem, only that these individuals prioritize the order of their performance, delaying the performance of mitzvos that they treat lightly — they cast their performance “under their heels.”

These persons maintain that they will first see to it that the “head,” i.e., the most important and stringent matters, will be performed properly. Afterward they will see to those mitzvos that are in close proximity to the head — mitzvos that are slightly less major. Only at the very last will they think about observing “heel mitzvos ,” and surely going above and beyond the letter of the law through the beautification and enhancement of these mitzvos will be put off to the very end.

Such individuals contend that one cannot possibly begin with the “heel”; order dictates that one must first do those things that are of greatest import and only then can one begin to think about deeper piety, enhanced performance, beautification of mitzvos , etc.

Although such thinking has a certain validity,3 it is absolutely vital that divine service begin with faith and acceptance of G-d’s yoke, not with the dictates of logic. And the Jewish faith exhorts the individual to be as scrupulously observant of the seemingly minor mitzvos as the major ones.

For the quintessential aspect of all mitzvos is that they unite the individual with G-d.4This applies to all the mitzvos , without the slightest difference between “major” and “minor” mitzvos , “head mitzvos ” or “heel mitzvos.” It is therefore out of place to think about a sequential order to the performance of mitzvos.5

Thus we also observe that the condition which enabled the Jewish people to receive the Torah and become a nation was their prefacing “We shall do” to “We shall hear” — a totally illogical sequence.6

For a Jew’s spiritual beginning, similar to the beginning of the Jewish nation as a whole, must be with faith and acceptance of the divine yoke and not with intellect; even those matters that are readily understandable must be performed out of a sense of faith and G-dly submission.

So too, children — people at the beginning of their lives — should know not only about the natural, i.e., logical, events that transpired with the Jewish people, but the miraculous, i.e., faith and belief, as well. This instills a firm foundation of faith in G-d.

This manner of conduct is especially important in times of exile, when the Jewish people are “like a sheep surrounded by 70 wolves”7 : When we transcend our self-imposed order and are equally fervent in our performance of all commandments, then G-d too foregoes the “order” of natural events, and the “Great Shepherd protects His sheep,”8 and abundantly provides them with children, health and sustenance.

Based on Likkutei Sichos Vol. XIX, pp. 89-93.

FOOTNOTES

1. Devarim 7:12.

2. Ibid.

3. See Mo’ed Kattan 9a.

4. Likkutei Torah , Bechukosai 45c; Rebbe Omer 5700 , conclusion of ch. 1 and onward.

5. See Kuntres U’Mayon p. 22.

6. See Shabbos 88a.

7. Tanchuma, Toldos; Esther Rabbah 10:11; Pesikta Rabosi ch. 9.

8. Tanchuma, Toldos; Esther Rabbah , ibid.

[stealing-jasons-job]

Fic updates & timeline 🥰

Here is my current prompt list and potential timeline. 

I’m currently participating in the @t100fic-for-blm initiative, and I am working through those prompts in the order I’ve received them. I appreciate all of you guys being patient (especially with my WIPs that have taken a backseat for the initiative), and I’m excited for what’s coming down the pipeline! At the moment, I am not accepting new prompts until I can work through this list. <3 

The rest is under the cut, but here is an up-to-date look at my fic list: 

Current ongoing projects

Upcoming fics 

WIPS I swear I haven’t abandoned 

Current ongoing projects

Wreck Jroth Club Fic Collab 

Would you choose the end of war and suffering in your own lifetime if it meant the end of every other universe, too—including ones where you, your friends, and your family are happy and at peace?

Or, the S7 finale rewrite where Clarke experiences some of these other lifetimes and makes the ultimate choice of whether or not the end of suffering in her own reality is worth sacrificing infinite others where things might have gone differently.

An angsty fic collab where different writers from the Bellarke fandom write different chapters as part of an overarching story. Each intro is written by me, as well as the first chapter, last chapter, and a few sprinkled in the middle. Follow @wreck-jroth-club for updates! 

Bellarke Big Bang - Find me in the light 

While I can’t unveil the premise just yet, I am a writer, creator, and mod alongside @animmortalist for Bellarke Big Bang 2021! First chapter will publish in June, but I’ll be working on this fic in my spare time between now and then.  Y’all, get ready for some ANGST. I haven’t been this excited about a fic in a long time. 

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Upcoming fics 

Linctavia prompt — official title TBD

Prompted by @1munequita

Linctavia as sexually frustrated parents whose daughter continually interrupts them. 

Cross my heart - official title TBD 

Prompted by @thecspenciskillingme

Gallagher Girls AU! 

Normal 18-year-old girls graduate high school and then go off to college with their friends. Maybe they join a sorority. Hell, maybe they get a boyfriend or girlfriend and fall in love. They sleep in and skip class and stay up late with their equally normal friends.

But Clarke Griffin has never been normal.

It comes with the territory of being the daughter of two renowned spies for the CIA. Clarke had been raised to speak seven languages and be able to change her entire appearance with nothing but a pair of nail clippers and some shoe polish. She wasn't built for normal.

Angsty. Spy shit. Multi-chapter. 

I see a monster’s eyes in the mirror - official title TBD 

Prompted by @constellationbellamy 

S6/7 AU — Bellamy got nightblood in S6 when Josie took him prisoner, and Bellamy is who Slim Sheidy "takes over" in S7. Fulfilling all of our void!Bellamy dreams without the religious indoctrination ala Steve and Etherea. Also, there will finally be a reason why no one killed Slim Sheidy as soon as they realized he was back. 

Is this potentially the angstiest idea I’ve ever had? 120% But don’t worry, it’ll have a happy ending. My name is not Jason. 

Criminal Minds AU - official title TBD

Prompted by @constellationbellamy​ 

A Bellarke Criminal Minds AU. 

Song prompt: Let You Down by NF

Prompted by @edgelessness

Everyone thinks Clarke has the perfect life, including her best friend's older brother Bellamy. But that's far from the truth.

Angsty AF.

Bear Grylls AU - official title TBD 

Prompted by @slyth-princess 

A collab between myself and @writetheniteaway for Beardcave. 

Don’t expect me to fall in love with her, too - official title TBD

Prompted by @writetheniteaway

Against all odds, Steve Doucette fell in love with Bellamy Blake. And Bellamy fell for him, too. But once they start rebuilding back on Earth after the "the last war” and transcendence turns out to be a myth, Steve starts to realize exactly what Bellamy meant in the cave when he said Octavia and Clarke were the most important people in his life.

As he gets to know the blonde, he can see the deep connection that exists between her and Bellamy. They are part of each other’s souls, and Steve can’t help but admire the way they are together. He’s not going to stand in the way of their relationship, whatever it is — after all, he was raised believing you could love more than one person equally. He knows Bell loves him, and he’s okay with the knowledge that Bellamy loves Clarke, too. But just because he understands why his boyfriend loves her doesn’t mean he has plans to fall in love with her himself.

Then again, you know what they say about well-laid plans.

Angsty. Sappy. <3 The OT3 we deserve. Multi-chapter.

Two sides of a coin — official title TBD

Prompted by @sparklyfairymira

Bellarke/Jeresa crossfic for all you QotS fans! Teresa and James are trying to establish themselves in the Dallas market, but DEA agents Clarke and Bellamy are determined to not make it easy. Throughout the fic, both sides will start to understand the other a little more and learn how to coexist without sacrificing their livelihoods or their integrity.

Angsty AF. Multi-chapter.

WIPs I swear I haven’t abandoned 

Since joining the BLM initiative, my focus has shifted away from WIP updates and toward completing prompts as they come in. To be honest, I was not expecting to receive as many prompts as I have (which is amazing on so many levels), so I apologize for how long it’s been since some of my fics have been updated. 

I appreciate you all being patient, but here are the WIPs I swear I haven’t abandoned! If anyone wants to prompt chapter updates for the BLM initiative, that will help get these on the prios list sooner. But otherwise, these bad boys will still get done. Albeit more slowly.  

I'm gonna get myself back home to you 

S4/5 AU where Bellarke gets together before he goes to the Ring, and he never believes she’s really dead. Told from multiple POVs before, during, and after the Ring. 

Next update: Ch. 6 — March 2021 

Intertwining Your Soul 

Arranged marriage grounder fic. 

Next update: Ch. 12 - March 2021

Amor vincit onmia 

S7 rewrite to spite Jason. 

Next update: Ch. 2 — March 2021 

There are some things written in the stars

Timeless AU

Next update: Ch. 4 - April 2021

Choices We Make 

Greys Anatomy AU. 

Next update: Ch. 9 - April 2021 

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If you’ve made it to the end of this long-ass update post, I commend you. lol But hopefully for those of you wondering when certain things will be published or what upcoming fics you can expect from me, this provides some clarity! 

You may have noticed I took off the expected publish dates. I’m trying like hell to stick to a schedule, but I can’t make any promises and I hated letting anyone down if something didn’t get published on the expected date. 

Shoutout to my BAHSA babes for keeping me sane, thebellarkes Discord for enabling my angsty-ass fic ideas (and for prompting me for BLM to write a ton of said ideas). Forever grateful for a community of people who support my writing! 

Come hang out with me on AO3 @stealing-jasons-job or Twitter @stealjasonsjob!