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eclectickss · 3 years

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Make Me Feel Special (2/2)

Pairing: Milf!Agatha Harkness x fem!Reader

Summary: You are angry at your best friend for turning down the opportunity for something that you would give your life for: a mother.

Link to Part One also tags: @bowtothewitch <3

Warnings: no plot, mommy issues/kink, major age gap (reader is of age), cursing, smut- praise kink, use of strap-on, tell me if i missed something!

Word Count: 2k?

A/N: if anybody was wondering, this Agatha is a mix of episode 9 Agatha and Eve Fletcher because i’m a whore for Eve Fletcher. Also this is my first time writing a strap-on so pls let me know if i did it right :/ALSO THANK YOU FOR 50 60 FOLLOWERS!!!

“I want you to make me feel special, mommy.”

She stared at you with your large duffle bag at your feet, and you couldn’t decide whether her gaze was desperate or thankful. She wanted someone to take care of, and here you were, asking her to do just that.

“What made you make up your mind, darling?” She was struggling to not give into the temptation of dragging you inside and taking you on the steps right then and there.

“Jane called you a selfish bitch when she doesn’t even try to understand me and what I want. And what I want is somebody to take care of me, for once. I want somebody in charge of me. I want somebody on top of me. To help of me. To comfort me, to touch me... to lov-“

Agatha walked up to you and put a finger on your lips, putting a silence to your voice.

“I know, babygirl.” Agatha dragged her finger off of your mouth and brought her hand around to the back of your neck, pulling your lips ever so close to hers.

“I’m not going to make you feel special, honey. I’m going to remind you that you already are.”

And with that, her lips grazed yours, and finally met in a rage of lust and desire.

Agatha snaked her other hand around your waist and up your spine, somehow managing to pull you closer than before. When the strong kiss broke, you groaned, Agatha’s taste lingering on the tip of your tongue like an ingrained memory that you never wanted to forget.

The two of you shared heavy breaths, reminiscing in the other’s gaze.

“C’mon babygirl. Let’s get you inside.” She whispered, picking up the bag at your feet. She dragged you by the wrist, not giving you much time to take in the beauty of her home. You caught a glimpse of a grand kitchen and living space, but you were tripping up the stairs before you could register anything else.

“I will show you your room tomorrow.” She dropped your bag at the top of the steps. “Something else needs my immediate attention.” She continued to drag you along as she started down a hallway. She stopped at the last door and pulled you up against the wall next to it.

“Are you sure about this?” In all seriousness, she met your lustful eyes with her own.

“Fuck, yes.” You almost whined, but a shock of pain was sent through your body as she pressed you into the wall.

“Yes, what?... babygirl.” You groaned as the added pressure only turned you on. “Try that again for me.”

“Please fuck me, mommy.”

Agatha almost growled from hearing that, finally opening the door and pulling you in with her.

“Up.” She ran her hands down the back of your thighs and you jumped up to squeeze her hips, surprised to find out that there was no struggle to keep you up. She was strong.

Your arms wrapped around her neck as you pulled her into a deep kiss, and soon after, her own lips made contact with the skin just below your ear. She moved her playful bites around until you flinched, meaning she had found your sweet spot.

“Oh, god,” You grumbled, trying to pull her head in closer. You could feel her smirk against your growing bruises. It all felt so wrong, but so incredibly right.

She made her way over to the bed with you still on her hips, finally setting you down on the mattress just before your legs went numb. You watched as Agatha pulled her purple top off and did the same with your loose t-shirt. Your eyes stared at her chest, knowing you should meet her eyes, but incapable of finding the will to do so.

She groped at your breasts before sliding her hands to the top of your sweatpants, fingers dancing around the tie before finally pulling the string lose. Agatha noticed how you stared at her image as she pulled off your bottoms, leaving you only in a bra and panties.

“Now tonight is all about you, babygirl. You can touch whatever you like, moan how ever loud you want... ask anything of me...” She breathed. “It won’t always be like this, but tonight is all about you.”

You whimpered are her words. “But I want mommy to be proud of me. I want mommy to feel good too.”

“You want to lick this cunt?” Agatha asked as she pulled down her jeans, revealing her black lace panties. She now crawled on top of you, her face hovering over your own.

You nodded at her question.

“Use your words.”

“Yes please, mommy.” You whined as Agatha pressed her lips back onto yours.

“Undress me, then. I’m all yours tonight, babygirl.” She smirked, leaving you with another breathtaking kiss. You happily snaked your hands around her back, unclasping her bra and immediately attaching your lips to one of her nipples, beginning to twist and pinch the other with your hand.

Agatha groaned above you, and the slickness in-between your legs screamed. Your other hand slid to the top of her underwear, and when you moved your mouth to her other breast, you used both hands to slide the garment down her body.

She helped you the rest of the way, and finally moved to hover her dripping pussy above your face. You could feel the heat above you, and the taunting smell almost drove you insane.

you latched your hands onto her hips as you closed the distance between your mouth and her cunt, relishing in the moan that escaped her body when your tongue finally reached her aching core.

“Babygirl...” You dragged through her wetness, quickly flicking her clit before diving into Agatha’s center. Your hands reached up to hold her down and play with her breasts while you slowly explored her insides. “That feels so good.”

You smiled. I made my mommy feel like that. I make her happy.

You brought one of your hands down and replaced a finger for your tongue, sliding it in as your mouth paid attention to her clit. You began to pump and suck slowly, paying attention to how Agatha reacted to your every move.

“Mommy wants more.” You groaned at the request, sending Agatha even higher into heaven as your vibrations ripped through her pussy.

You picked up your speed and inserted another finger. You also tested out different things with your tongue, noticing how your pointed tongue made her squirm, your flat one made her head roll back, and your sucking made her do all the above and more.

“Mommy is gonna cum, babygirl. Let her cum.”

You hummed and put a little more pressure in all the right places, finally witnessing her come unraveled on top of you.

Agatha twitched as you helped her off of her high, cleaning up the mess that you left behind.

“You did so good, honey. Mommy is so proud.” You blushed as she sat back to kiss you, her leftover cum rubbing onto the base of your stomach. She tasted herself in your mouth and smirked.

“Is my baby ready to be rewarded?” Agatha taunted, carrying her light touch across your chest.

“Please, mommy.” You went to slip your bra off of your shoulders, but she stopped you.

“No, honey. Let me do that.” She reached under your arched back to unclasp the article, allowing it to thud onto the floor.

“Oh, baby, mommy is so excited to play with you,” Agatha spoke seductively while staring at your exposed chest, and if your cunt wasn’t begging for attention before, it sure as hell was now.

She reached her hands down to stroke your thighs, and you whimpered.

“Patience, darling.” She chuckled as she slid down further on you and started biting at your breasts. You moaned so loud, but you didn’t feel guilty about it whatsoever. One of Agatha’s long fingers danced over your covered core, and your hips bucked.

She laughed. “Alright honey, i’m done teasing.” You gave a breath of relief. She slid off the of the bed, pulling your panties along with her. She discarded the garment as she walked over to the nightstand, swaying her hips because she knew that you were watching.

“What are you doing?” She opened the bottom drawer to the piece of furniture. Without saying anything, she pulled out a large purple dildo, and you eyes widened.

“It’s ok, babygirl. we’ll take it nice and slow. I’ll even lube it up for you, although i’m sure you’re wet enough to take it dry.” You whined, knowing that she was probably right.

“Okay, mommy.” You follwed her movements as she strapped into the toy, picking up the lube and getting some on her hands. She climbed back on the bed and straddled your hips, making sure you had a good view.

She took her hands and began covering the dildo, and your insides turned as you watched her stroke and rub the lube all over.

“Are you ready for mommy’s cock, darling?” She smirked up at you.

“Yes mommy. Please.” You whined, begging her to fuck you senseless.

“Good girl.” She lifted your knees up to your chest, and you wrapped your arms around your shins to hold your legs in place.

Agatha ran one of her long fingers through your cunt, bringing it up to her mouth and moaning at the taste of you.

“You taste amazing, honey.” She said as she slowly slipped the toy inside of you, earning another whine out of your mouth. You sounded like a whore, but you didn’t care.

Once Agatha’s skin was flush with yours and the toy was as far in as it could go, she paused.

“Let mommy know when you’re ready to start.” Agatha reached down and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, making you nod and lean into the touch. Once you felt comfortable, you replied.

“I’m ready for you to fuck me, mommy.” You nearly whispered in anticipation.

“Good girl,” She hummed, slowly pumping the dildo in and out of you. You watched as her breasts moved with her thrusts, feeling sensations that matched her movements perfectly.

Eventually, the need for more arose, and you started rocking in time with her pumps.

“Shh, baby,” Agatha held your body still. “Let mommy do the work.” You relished in the way that her hands ran their way up and around your torso and chest, soon enough finding their way to your clit as her speed increased.

The moan that you released made Agatha smile, as she started applying more pressure and sending the dildo deeper. You could hear your dripping pussy as she railed into you, your body bouncing with her sheer force.

“I think i’m gonna cum, mommy. Can I cum?” You whined, throwing your head back from the stimulation.

“Of course, babygirl.” Agatha stroked. “Soak my cock, honey, whenever your ready.” She met your gaze, and her glare is finally what pushed you over the edge. You silently screamed, arching your back as far as you could in that position and squeezing your thighs to your chest.

Instead of slowing down, though, Agatha pushed you into another orgasam, and but the time you had realized what she had done, you couldn’t process any information.

It took a moment for you to slow your breath, but when you finally did, you found Agatha staring at you with an expression that you couldn’t recognize yet.

“What?” You blushed, watching her slowly pull out of you and take the strap-on off. You twitched at one spot, and she gave you a soft smirk.

“Thank you.” You looked at her funny.

“What for?”

“Letting me take care of you.” She replied sincerely. You sheepishly smiled, catching the glint in her eyes.

“Anytime.” You said, repositioning yourself to sit up. You leaned in to give her a kiss, and you felt her smile against your lips.

“Alright, c’mon now baby. Let’s get you cleaned up and tucked in.” She grabbed your hand and helped you off of the mattress, holding onto your shoulder as the two of you made your way to the shower.

This was someone you could get used to.

#agatha harkness x female reader #agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness #marvel female reader insert #agatha harkness x fem!reader #marvel gxg

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angellesword · 4 years

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YOUR EYES TELL | JJK (10)

Summary: You live in a world where people see in black and white. The solution to finally see the colors? It's simple. You need to meet your soulmate and look at him in the eyes, but what if the person bound to you is already contented with the monochromatic world? What if...Jeongguk, your soulmate, is already in love with someone else?

Alternatively:

"A future without you is a world without color."

Genre: soulmate au, e2l, slow burn, angst, fluff, roommate au

Pairing: Artist!Jungkook x Lawyer!Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

SERIES: CHAPTER 9 | CHAPTER 11

Note: I just wanna dedicate this chapter to @jooniebugg coz your feedback in Your Eyes Tell (09) is <333 and it inspired me to write chapter 10! some lines in this update is my response to your comment heheh :*

You were not in trouble, but Jeongguk was.

"Guk," Jimin let out a breath as he closed his eyes. "Slow down, okay? I can't understand what you're saying."

But Jeongguk couldn't do it. He was sobbing uncontrollably that Jimin literally had to tell him to breathe.

Jeongguk tried to follow the instruction of his best friend's boyfriend. Breathe. It should be easy, right? He only needed to stop thinking about you in able to breathe properly.

Unfortunately, it was difficult to get you out of his mind.

"You good?"

Your soulmate nodded even though Jimin couldn't see his face. They're currently talking over the phone. Jimin called him after finding out what happened during the trial.

It was all over the news. Countless of articles were published online. Most of them were unreliable and full of speculations.

Jimin gave up after reading one sentence. He knew he had to call you to know the truth—or at least the fragments of truth. Jimin wasn't really interested in the case; he was only interested to know what was up with you.

Were you alright?

Jimin found some of your decisions in life questionable, yet he didn't say anything. He remained tight-lipped when you told him about your entangled fate not only with Jeongguk, but also with your assistant and client.

Just like your soulmate, Jimin could not understand why you were trying to defend Kim Seokjin. Their reason was different though. Jeongguk's thoughts were selfish. Jimin, on the contrary, was plain curious.

Why were you so invested in this case?

Was it because of your stubborn nature? Jimin knew that once you set your mind into something, you wouldn't stop until you won.

Jimin only learned to accept your competitive side when he realized that you were raised this way.

You didn't choose to be like this. You were actually forced to be like this. This being the case, Jimin was only able to release an exhausted breath after Jeongguk told him what happened in the courtroom.

Some might say that you pushed too hard, but this didn't give Mrs. Kim the right to hurt you.

"It's my fault, hyung. I wasn't there to protect her." Jeongguk bit the inside of his cheek.

It had been an hour since you locked yourself in your room and Jeongguk wasn't sure whether to comfort you or to just leave you alone.

It felt like you preferred the latter option. Jimin told your soulmate that you weren't answering your phone, an obvious indication that you didn't want to talk to anyone. This was also the reason why Jimin decided to just call Jeongguk to know if you were okay.

You weren't.

It was weird, but Jeongguk was positive he could feel your heart breaking. If this was any other day, he was sure that he would simply ignore this, but something definitely changed. Jeongguk didn't know why, but he had this intense urge to embrace you—to make you feel better.

"But you can protect her now, Guk. It will be hard, but please..." Jimin begged your soulmate. He didn't want to burden Jeongguk; however, the latter was the only person who could comfort you right now.

As much as Jimin wanted to embrace you, he couldn't. He was in Busan, his hometown, at the moment. Jimin was processing some important documents because he's planning to ask Taehyung to marry him.

"W-What can I do to make her feel better?" Jeongguk stammered. He's nervous, but he's decided. He couldn't let you go through this alone. It hadn't even been a day, yet he already missed your goofy side.

"You're a smart boy, Jeon. You'll figure out what she wants."

What do you want?

Jeongguk's heart was recoiling once again. He realized that he never knew what you wanted since you were always catering what others wanted.

You were a people pleaser.

"But if nothing works, just call her parents." This was Jimin's last reminder before ending the call.

Your soulmate didn't understand why Jimin thought it would be a good idea to call your parents. Jeongguk was pretty sure he could bring the smile back on your face without the help of anyone. He just needed to make sure you were not in some kind trouble first.

Jeongguk opened your laptop to send an email to your boss and other clients, telling them that you were taking a break from work.

Jeongguk was tired by the end of the week. Jimin was right. It was difficult to help you get back on your feet, mainly because you weren't trying.

You stayed in bed most of the time, you barely touched your food, and he felt like you didn't even want to live.

You looked so unmotivated that in the end, Jeongguk decided to just message your parents and invite them to your apartment—this was the reason why he was in trouble.

"You can't just do this without consulting me, Jeongguk."

His scowl deepened when you called him using his given name. You only did this when you were serious or mad. In this case, he figured out that you were mad—or at least he thought you were mad. Your voice was rough, similar to the tone you used when you were inside the courtroom.

Jeongguk was scared.

He was scared to upset you again.

"But Jimin-hyung told me to call your parents!" He reasoned out. Blaming your best friend was the only way Jeongguk could think of so that he could finally escape your piercing glare.

It worked.

Your expression softened a bit, though this didn't mean that he wasn't in trouble anymore.

"Jeongguk," this time your voice sounded tired.

"Y-Yes?" He pretended like he was busy sweeping the floor. Everything needed to be perfect because your parents would be here shortly.

You already accepted your tragic fate. It was decided. You were going to meet your mother and father today.

Damn it.

"Why did you block Hoseok's number?"

You saw how Jeongguk froze after hearing your question. No doubt, he was guilty.

"I-I didn't do it!" He lied.

You narrowed your eyes at him.

"You're not a good liar..." Amusement was now dancing in your voice.

Jeongguk had been using your phone to respond to your prospective clients. These people just didn't know how to stop. They kept texting your personal number even though Jeongguk told them that you were on a leave.

Your phone didn't have a passcode that's why he was able to freely access it.

You didn't mind. In fact, you were grateful. He saved your career. If he didn't send a notice of leave to your boss, you were sure you're gonna get fired.

"I'm not lying!" His lips protruded into a sulky pout. "I didn't send those messages!"

"Huh." You arched your brow. "But I only asked why you blocked Hoseok. I didn't say you texted him using my number."

Jeongguk's eyes went wide.

He was instantly busted.

"H-He was spamming you with useless messages!"

"I don't think so," you shook your head as you read the conversation. His excuse just kept on getting worse.

"Wow. You're cold," you could imagine Hoseok's disbelief upon seeing the thumbs up emoji. It was actually apparent by your friend's response.

"Jeongguk..." You called his name again.

"What!?" Why was he getting annoyed?

"You don't want Hoseok to kiss me?"

Jeongguk looked like the emoji he sent to Hoseok.

"And why would I want that!?" His chest was heaving up and down. You couldn't see, but his face was as red as tomatoes.

You suddenly laughed, causing Jeongguk's heart to swell in joy. This was the first time he heard you laugh after weeks of getting used to your impassive face.

Were you finally moving on?

Jeongguk guessed you were. Your expression literally changed the moment your parents arrived.

You looked happy to see them—too happy that Jeongguk felt like he was only imagining your annoyed expression a short while ago.

Didn't you say you hated the fact that he invited your parents to your place?

You did say that. Unfortunately Jeongguk had no idea how much you hated talking to your mom.

You swore you loved her with all of your heart, though her principles were different from what you believed in. It was draining to pretend like you agree with her.

"So how's the case you've been handling, sweetheart?" Your mother's sweet smile made you cringe.

It hadn't been long since she pulled you inside your room to 'talk.'

Your parents had already met Jeongguk. As expected, they loved him. Your soulmate made it very easy to like him. Perhaps it was because of his eyes. Damn those big, doe eyes. It never failed to make your heart melt.

"Good." You walked towards your bedroom door. "Let's go back to the kitchen. I think Jeongguk prepared some desserts."

"Dessert could wait, dear." Your mom offered you another sickening smile. It was the kind of smile that told you to give up. She always had her way of making you follow what she wanted you to do.

"Come on, eomma." You laughed nervously as you told her that your soulmate was excited to let her try his yaksik, a popular dessert that your mom truly loved.

You didn't know how Jeongguk found out your mother's favorite dessert. You just knew that you were willing to eat dozens of yaksik just to get away from your mom. You didn't even care if your stomach was still full after eating the lunch your soulmate had cooked.

Your mom only shrugged her shoulders as if she didn't hear what you said.

"Tell me about the Kim's case." She demanded as she meticulously inspected your wardrobe.

Your heartbeat doubled.

It was easy to simply give into what she desired because you were certain that she wouldn't stop anyway.

Sadly you couldn't speak—not anymore. Not when you knew how all of this would go.

You wanted to move on from this nightmare on your own. All your life, you relied upon what your mother would say.

"You can't be sad over this. It's nothing compared to what I've been through!"

"Stop crying. You just think you're hurt. You're not."

"No. You can't. That shows weakness."

These were some of the things your mother would say whenever you encountered problems in life. She honed you to be this strong person who wasn't allowed to mope.

You remembered her telling you that it was insensitive of you to cry over little things when it was clear that so many people had it worse than you.

This was exactly why you didn't want to meet your mother today. She would force you to stop feeling bad about Seokjin's case since it was petty.

It was funny actually. People admired you for always ignoring the pain you felt.

You found this toxic. It felt like you were expected to be strong—making you feel like you should heal right away and not with your own pace. This was also the reason why you found it hard to open up to people, even if you were really close to that someone.

Your mother made you feel like there would always be some kind of adversary when it came to handling inconveniences in life. Sometimes you wished people would shut up and just listen. You didn't always need advice. What you wanted was for them to stop quantifying pain because people had different tolerance when it came to feeling what's painful and what's not.

"I think I lost," it took everything not to cry in front of her. At the end of the day, you were still afraid to be perceived as weak.

She had that much control over you.

"Why did you lose?" Her voice was stone cold.

Your response was automatic. You told her what happened during the trial in spite of telling yourself that you would never get swayed by her authoritarian nature anymore.

"You don’t have to answer. I know now why you lost." She crossed her arms as she shook her head at you.

"Didn't I tell you? You lost because you didn't acquire enough knowledge." She proceeded to tell you what you already knew.

Your mom always said that knowledge is power, but the word "knowledge" that was delicately tattooed on your Achilles heel said otherwise.

For you, knowledge is downfall. This was why you chose to have that word tattooed on your Achilles heel—a part of your body that symbolized fatal weakness.

You were working as an auditor before you decided to go to law school. You knew this field inside out and it came with a price. You helped a firm conceal fraudulent acts using your knowledge.

It was a dangerous thing. Your mom tolerated your unprofessionalism since she was a major stockholder in the said company. She actually pushed you to continue the misrepresentation; however, you were guilty.

You couldn't do it anymore. You couldn't use the power you acquired to fool people. Law school taught you to uphold justice, but you were blinded once again.

You failed to see the impact of your actions to Soobin, an innocent soul. Maybe your mother was right. You were bound to fail your law career. Maybe you should just go back to the corporate world and help billionaires to achieve their disgusting scheme.

"Sorry," you swallowed hard, looking straight into your mother's eyes. "I'll do better."

"You should be." She gritted her teeth as she continued to invalidate your emotions.

You wondered when the torture would stop. You just wanna lie in bed and sleep the pain away. Luckily Jeongguk came knocking on your door, saving you from your mother's poisonous words.

"Wait," Jeongguk stopped you from following your mom to the living room.

"What's wrong?" He cupped your face; worry was evident in his eyes. You looked like you were in pain.

Did your mother say something to you? Jeongguk wondered.

"Nothing." But you brushed him off before he could ask.

Jeongguk pursed his lips into a thin line. He swore something was wrong, but he didn't want to push it since it was clear that you were not in the mood to talk about it.

But he couldn't stay still knowing that you were bothered. This being the case, he went out of his way just to make you smile.

Jeongguk was being such a good boy. He kept on praising you in front your parents. He was also respectful towards them. His jokes were appropriate and he smiled so kindly at them.

His lingering touch on your wrist, waist, and shoulders didn't go unnoticed by you. It was like he was guarding you from any possible danger.

"What do you think about this, my sweet daughter?" Your father showed you his artwork with a proud smile.

You chuckled.

Jeongguk was teaching your father how to draw.

"You did great, Appa!" You weren't lying. He had done a good job sketching The Hulk.

"Really? What about the color? Do you like it?"

You nodded eagerly. It wouldn't hurt to lie, right?

"I like the shade of green that you used."

You were expecting your father to smile back because of your compliment. Sadly, he only stared at you blankly.

"What?" A nervous giggle escaped your lips.

Your parents and even Jeongguk were making you feel awkward. Why were they looking at you like you were a poor, poor soul?

"This Hulk is color pink." Your father said softly, making your breathing hitch.

He was trying to show contrast. The Hulk was the personification of rage. He colored him pink because in your world, the mentioned color symbolized gentleness. He wanted you to see in his drawing that people should be gentle even though they're angry.

You ruined it.

They probably know by now that you were lying when you said earlier that you could see colors.

Why did you even lie?

Why couldn't you just tell them that Jeongguk wasn't in love with you?

"Ah," you scratched the back of your head. "Is it pink? Sorry, Appa. I'm still trying to learn colors."

Your lie was understandable. You told your parents that you met Jeongguk a few months ago. It was impossible to know all colors in a short period of time.

You knew you weren't a great liar, but damn. When you looked at Jeongguk, he was smiling as he mouthed, "it is okay," to you.

He was saying that you were doing well, that you didn't ruin what your father had been wishing for: he wanted you to be loved by your soulmate.

You felt like Jeongguk loved you.

You couldn't stop staring at your soulmate as he continued to smile brightly at you.

In this moment, you swore you could see the brown in his eyes.

Or so you thought.

You just couldn't have one peaceful day, could you?

"N-No..." Your voice broke, tears falling down on the sheet of paper you were holding.

Your parents already left. Jeongguk was kind enough to drive them back to their hotel.

You were alone in the house.

The paper in your hand was mocking you, telling you that you would forever be alone in this house.

TRANSFER OF OWNERSHIP IN A CONTRACT TO SELL Vendee Jeon Jeongguk of Room 13, Apartment X, Seoul, South Korea—you stopped reading the next words.

You couldn't believe it.

Jeon Jeongguk was going to leave you.

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ellitx · 3 years

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💚 anon said: Okay gonna be a part two to the double yan butlers but making them vamp! So have this butler sandwich~

( Long af im so sorry i cant stop i need help)

submission

warning: blood, smut, yan behavior

You sat there clenching onto the hem of your dress with tears streaming down your beautiful face.

"Hush now beloved..." Himmel whispered, leaning in close on the shell of your ear and bringing a gloved hand to your cheek to wipe the tears away.

"May we remind you aren't alone, y/n~?" The man on the opposite side of you said coming in closer to lick the salty liquid down your face causing him to shudder lightly, even just the slightest taste of you is divine already wanting more.

"I-I know it's just having everyone that I come into that kind of contact with either seems to disappear or they're bored to sleep... it's like I'm cursed or something..." you say with a shaky voice and shallow breath. Hearing this made both of their hearts ache. Locking eyes with his other half for a moment filled with concern and a tinge of guilt.

We're they being too selfish? Keeping you for your own desires and fulfillment..? Surely you felt the same way, you certainly did right...?

The way you so easily let them in, to undress you, bathe you, please you and in turn themselves. Could it possibly be that your feelings had changed? Maybe it's time to test this they thought.

"Mistress, you know Venti and I care oh so deeply for you... and we'll do anything at all for you... so when you say you're alone it's a bit disappointing to hear.." Himmel breathes out taking a hold of your left hand and his twin grabbing the right, both lovingly stroking your delicate hands.

"Oh how correct you are dear brother. It's quite heartbreaking not only to see you so upset but to hear that you're feeling as such, may we turn this pain into pleasure? We're always at your service my beloved."

Venti's question caused you to shoot a shocked and red-faced expression towards him. "W-what do you Mea— Mm!" He pressed a finger to your lips and slowly pushed you down onto the mattress, with Himmel setting himself behind you, sliding his arms around you to hold you in place as his brother straddles the both of you, He peers down from above you with lust clouded eyes

"Oh you know exactly what we mean my princess~ We know wholeheartedly the feelings you have towards us and trust us in knowing the feeling is mutual. So when we see these vile suitors dare lay sight on you we couldn't help but, 'resolve' the issue." He whispered into your ear slowly leaving small love bites down your neck. Oh how badly he wants to sink his teeth into you. Just a whiff of your scent already drives him mad but he holds in his desire.

Himmel snuck his hands up to pull down the top zipper of your gown letting the sleeves slump off of your shoulders to let his brother gain more access, and allowing himself to give gentle kisses and licking the opposite side as he holds you strongly in place.

"Mm...! So you two... were behind all of this...!?" you breathe out trying to keep calm while both of your dear servants are beginning to devour you. Himmel wrapped his legs around you, locking his ankles with yours, with Venti pushing most of his weight onto you to make his way back up to your ear.

"We were merely speeding up the process, angel~ And besides, by the look of things you, weren't even interested, no?" Venti cooed.

You couldn't deny it. No feelings you had were towards any of the potential matches and frankly made you bored and uncomfortable. It was honestly a relief when the situation was brought to shambles.

"Mistress, you did tell me that you didn't even want to go back to him, correct...?" The man behind you questions. You shakily sighed recalling the words you said to Himmel earlier that afternoon, his hair and breath tickling your neckline. It was so hard to even respond coherently as they both let their hands run all over you— Venti at your chest and neck and Himmel having his hands wander up your skirt to feel your thighs.

"Mm... Yes..." Venti grins at your answer and chuckles, eyeing your near-exposed breast daring to make an appearance. "Y/n, don't you think it's time for a change of clothes? You look quite uncomfortable with this elaborate dress at the moment. Do we have permission to undress you?" Himmel suggested catching onto Venti and his desires, how badly he just wants to rip everything off and dive right into you knowing he must remain calm.

Squirming a bit due to the building excitement, you nod as your face painted blush red. "You may..." and with that the both of them helped you out of your clothes, slowly and carefully removing each article with the man behind you pulling down your zipper fully and removing your dress, while Venti took off the skirt underneath, leaving you only in your lingerie.

You curl up slightly embarrassed how both of them are hungrily eyeing your form. "Look... look at you y/n... you're so beautiful. Divine even. It's why we must keep you all to ourselves~" Himmel sighed pressing his chest against your back and snaking his arms around you while placing gentle but passionate kisses all over your neck.

"Oh how right you are dear brother. A true angel lay before us and I think she may lay blessing upon ourselves tonight~" Venti says climbing back on top of you, putting a leg between yours, his knee brushing against your core, making you shudder and lean onto the man behind you. It was so hard to resist them at this point you didn't even care how much trouble the three of you could be in if you got caught.

"Nng... I order you to both give in to any and all desires..." They both went wide-eyed in excitement.

"With pleasure my songbird~" the blue-eyed male almost moaned into your ear as he removed his own clothing and Venti followed soon after.

"On one condition... Please let me know beforehand if you decide to feast upon me..." you interject blushing madly in watching the two men undress before you. You notice how their eyes seemed to glow in the dimly lit room. "Of course my dearest, we wouldn't do anything without consent, right dear brother?" Himmel states and gestures to Venti.

"Indeed our princess must be handled with the utmost care, with loving and sensual touches, no harm must come to her." He says leaning in to slowly kiss your cheek only to begin leaving slow sweet kisses down your jawline, with Himmel running his hands down your exposed waist feeling his bare hands smooth across your supple skin filled you with desire.

You held onto Venti's shoulders and leaned your back against Himmel's chest, they had you securely pressed between them, you could feel so much of them and how hot it was getting, and how much they needed you in turn.

Hearing a whisper from behind you "May I kiss you, y/n?" You turn and nod, letting Himmel latch his lips to yours, letting a sweet moan escape your lips as you felt Venti unclip your bra. "I feel so lucky to have such a sight in front of me… let me taste you please..." He almost pleaded in which you give out a shaky sigh, desperately wanting him to pull your sweet breast in his mouth.

"I did say you may give in to all desires, correct~?" you say teasingly. Almost immediately you felt him latch onto your breast almost desperately and gripping onto the other, swirling your nipple with his tongue making you let out a sweet moan that made Himmel grip your thighs letting his hands wander closer and closer to where you needed him most.

"Nnng... y/n, I want to feel how much you crave us," Himmel said, pulling your soaked panties aside and rubbing a finger through your folds as he flicked up to hit your clit. It makes your breath hitch as you shift your weight against his stiff member as well as feeling the other suck and knead at your tender breasts. Looking down and noticing how needy Venti was as well, it made your mind so clouded with lust it was hard to think straight.

"Ahh~ More... please...!" You plead. You appreciate them being slow and careful but you just wanted them to take full control and pleasure every inch of you. "As you wish~" Venti moves down from your breast leaving passionate kisses all the way down your body stopping at your core.

"My mistress is so sweet~ you don't know how much we love you so let us show you." He breathes out with his mouth hung open, you could see his fangs albeit small but much larger than anything human and it turned you on seeing Venti pleading up at you to let him devour your essence.

"Haa... please me... eat me... anything... I'm all yours." You plead. And in turn, he puts your legs over his shoulders as Himmel grips your hips in place with one arm while the other rubs your sensitive bud.

You let out a shaky moan as Venti licks up your slit. "Mmm... so good y/n..." the vibrations from his moans resonated deep within you causing so much ecstasy to flow through you.

"Ahh...!! It's too much!!"

Himmel quickly pulls you in to swallow your moans with a deep kiss. "Shh mistress... we can't allow ourselves to be too loud.." Himmel said. It was so hard to hold himself back from sinking his teeth into your beautifully exposed neck while he rubbed your core how he wanted to desperately switch position with his brother but your pleasure was his top priority.

The stimulation from both of them was almost too much. You felt hot tears run down your face as you gripped onto Venti's hair for anything to hold you together as if you couldn't control your hips that you ground against his face as well as rolled against Himmel's erect length. You felt the climax building, that twisting coil in your womb threatening to spill out.

"Haa... Haa...! I'm so close...!" You breathe out trying to remain as quiet as possible.

"Yes.. feed me~! Let me drink your divine essence!" Venti begged into you. While gripping onto the hand that Himmel offered to you, you came down so intensely it made your whole body shiver. Pulling away from you to wipe his face, Himmel couldn't help but drag his hand to collect any remaining slick and lick it off his fingertips.

"Always ever sweet my songbird..." He gazed straight into your e/c orbs with his pupils blown wide. "But I can't help but want more..." he bends down to where his twin was recently to lick all of the slicks that covered your thighs, he was about to combust. He has held back for so long. Hearing your heartbeat right next to his ear, the crimson essence he so desperately needs is just inches away.

"Y/n... May I please bear fang to you... right here." he pokes your soft thigh ever so slightly.

"Ohohoh, wanting a drink so soon dear brother?" His twin teases.

"Ashamedly, yes... you got to drink the beloved's slick after all..." He bends down awaiting your answer as Venti repositioned himself behind you with him breathing down your neck.

"Y-you may..." you nervously grip onto the sheets awaiting the incoming pain as Venti rubs your arms to offer some comfort. "Shhh just relax... if you’re so tense it'll be more painful..." He whispers, sending shivers down your spine. You take a deep inhale as you feel Himmel sink his teeth into your soft flesh.

Your life force was flowing into him. It was so addicting, so sweet, and in addition to the slicks still left over on your thigh, nothing could beat this he thought. Both were gently holding you still. You couldn't ignore Venti’s ragged, almost feral breathing pattern, and not soon after feeling something cold and wet drop on your shoulder, you turn to look at him, mouth hung open of a drooling mess.

"I'm... haa... going to be honest, y/n... I don't think I can..." you nod to him and pull your hair out of the way leaning your head to the side.

"As a reward... for earlier..." He goes wide-eyed and grins and gently wraps both his arms and legs around you, biting down on the nape of your neck, your delicious wine filling his system as he hums in satisfaction.

Himmel pulls away carefully after his fill, almost immediately cleaning and wrapping the small wound in cloth and finishing it with a small kiss. "Thank you so much, my beloved, but Venti please be gentle with her..." Himmel says leaning in front of you as you grip onto him and focus on your breathing to distract yourself from the sharp pain going through you.

"Mhmm..." He mumbled, getting in a few last drops before he pulled away.

"Thank you, mistress. You're ever so kind to us, now let us repay you~" Venti said whilst cleaning and covering the wound. Himmel gently lays you down with you perfectly on display for the both of them with him going on top of you with Venti behind you.

"There is still one more thing we wish to have desired, to make love to you, y/n'' He bent down to quietly whisper in your ear. Feeling how hard they both were, you wanted to fulfill all of their wishes. You could only nod knowing how badly you also wanted this.

"Please... I only have a love for the both of you..." With Venti wrapping his arms around and pushing his cock between your cheeks and Himmel slowly lining himself up with your heat, taking your hands in his, you lock eyes with his icy orbs.

"Ahh~!" You moan, throwing your head back onto his twin’s shoulder as he enters you. It felt so euphoric to the three of you. Venti grinding himself against you, Himmel slowly filling your walls and feeling them so close to you, it felt like you were overheating but you couldn't get enough.

"Nnng... my love you feel so good...! So warm..." Himmel praises gradually increasing the pace. Feeling them both slide in and out of you filled you with immense pleasure. You couldn't help but rut your hips in tandem with theirs.

"Y/n~! More!" The man behind you pleaded, gripping your hips for more of the friction he craved, causing you to grind up against him more, your end was coming already so quickly with how good they both felt.

"Ahh...! Guys, I don't know how long I can make it...!" Your walls clench around his length with him hitting that sweet spot each time making you see stars. You gripped Himmel’s arms, holding on for dear life.

"Don't— Ahh... Hold it...! My beloved...! I'm close too!!" Himmel moans into you kissing you so deeply, swirling your tongue with his. That tight knot again comes loose with a few more thrusts from both of them spilling it all over the sheets with Himmel releasing on your stomach and Venti coming onto your back.

After a few moments of recollection and clean up, they both embrace you and swore to never let you go.

—

(Im off to jail again and i hope the formatting is okay -💚 i just wanna feed you not more work )

—

Holy shit—

Anon, you’re feeding us so well mmmpowowushasjjs

OM NOM NOM NOM

daddy vampire venti and himmel?

OM NOM NOM NOM

#submission #💚 anon #venti x reader #himmel x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #tw blood #genshin impact venti #venti brainrot

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writer-k-pop · 4 years

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Clumsy

괞찮아? Are you okay?

Description: After a routine morning, a buried desire appears and makes you wonder. While talking to Mingyu about it, he takes it the wrong way and leads to an argument. But because you’re almost as clumsy as he is, a small tumble turns him into a worry wart. Warnings: Swearing, reader takes a small tumble, nothing serious Genre: Angst, Idol!Mingyu x Fem!Reader Word Count: 1.6k

Seventeen Masterlist | Masterlists

I sighed for the third time during the short elevator ride up to my apartment. I had just spent my morning near the river, journaling and just watching the world wake up from its slumber. It was there I saw it. It being the physical manifestation of a longing desire that has sat at the bottom of my stomach for months.

The desire to be able to freely walk around with Mingyu and not worrying about being caught by cameras.

I couldn't remember when this desire started but I knew that seeing those couples walking around, smile lazily, made it grow and sit confidently atop the throne in my mind.

I adjusted my purse and lifted my head with then elevator dinged at my floor. The doors then slowly pulled away from each other. Running my hands through my hair, I walked down the hall to my apartment.

Instead of an empty hall, Mingyu leaned against the wall next to my door with his phone in his hands.

"What are you doing out here?" I asked, pulling his attention away from his phone.

"I was waiting for you." He stated, shoving his phone into his pocket.

"You could've waited inside." I unlocked the door and let us in.

"I know but you weren't answering my text so I didn't want to come in just in case." Mingyu answered.

"Just in case of what?" I questioned, setting my purse on the counter top.

Mingyu shrugged, "I dunno, maybe you were dancing around naked."

I laughed, "Fair, fair."

"So where did you go?" He wondered, wrapping his arms around me from behind.

"Down by the river." I told him with a sigh.

Mingyu immediately turned me around to face him. "Why did you sigh?" He asked, eyebrows knotted in confusion.

I gazed into his eyes and wondered if I should tell him this now but I decided to keep quiet.

Shaking my head, I answered, "Just a little tired. I must've not gone to bed early enough last night."

Mingyu's confusion vanished from his face, "Then we need some tea, or coffee. Caffeine, we need caffeine." He corrected himself before searching my cabinets for the necessary items.

Biting my lower lip, I watched him bustle around the kitchen. The water boiler bubbled away in the background as a constant reminder of where we could be getting drinks.

In public, at a cafe, with the hustle and bustle of the morning crowds. Men and women getting their quick fix on their way to work. Friends chatting about life at the tables scattered around. The baristas cheerfully taking orders and working the machines that hiss and brew steaming coffee.

"(y/n)?" Mingyu's voice pulled me back to reality. He stood in front of me, holding out a mug for me to take.

I took the mug and held it tightly between my hands, "Thanks."

"You sure you're okay?" He asked again before taking a small sip of his drink.

I looked down into my mug, the heat starting to hurt my hands.

"Do you, uhm," I slowly said, setting down my mug, "Do you ever wish we could do normal couple things?" I asked, looking up at him.

Mingyu pursed his lips, "What do you mean?"

I took in a breath, "Like this morning, I saw couples going on walks together. And they looked so carefree, not having to worry about cameras following them or that a news article would be written about them in the next two hours." Feeling some shame, I looked away, while he set his mug down as well. "I just saw them and had a desire to feel the same thing. You know?" I continued, "Not having to hide in an apartment making our own coffee or sneaking in and out."

I watched as Mingyu's expression falls and his lips rest together in a line.

"We knew that we would have to do this." He said, "You knew that this was the life you were getting into."

"I know," I nodded, "But don't you ever wish that you didn't have to?"

"You really want it that badly?" Mingyu answered my question with a question, but didn't wait for me to answer, "Well, you're going to have to look somewhere else for it cause it's not here. That's not something my life can offer you." His tone began to turn cold, "If you wanted it that badly, you didn't have to wait this long to tell me."

My eyes widened in realization of what was happening.

"Mingyu, I didn't me-"

"You didn't mean to do this?" Mingyu cut me off, "You didn't mean to drag me along for months while you knew all along that you hated this life?"

I ran a hand through my hair in a small panic, "Mingyu." I tried but he continued on his rant.

"Is that why you go down to the river? To watch all the couples have what you can't have?" He questioned, then walked into my living room.

"No, I don't go down there to watch the random couples." I defend myself, starting to get upset. "I didn't mean it like I wanted to leave." I stopped a foot away from the couple steps that led down into the living room where Mingyu was standing. The reason for this terrible design, I won't ever know.

"Then what did you mean?" Mingyu turned to face me. "That you wanted me to give up my career so we could stroll without cameras constantly pointed at us? You really expect me to do that?"

"No!" I yelled, "God, would you just shut up and listen to me?" I threw my hands up in frustration. "I was just saying it. I was just wondering. It was an innocent thought that somehow turned into this mess. We are good. I like where we are." I told him, walking forward. "I was just wondering if you ever want that feeling too or if I was being too- AH!" I screamed as I tumbled down the couple stairs, landing with a loud bang on the hardwood floor.

Somehow, my purse had fallen and as I walked, my feet became tangled up and I tripped right down the stairs.

"(y/n)!" Mingyu tried to catch me but was a couple seconds late.

Reverberations from the landing echoed through my elbows and hips as Mingyu helped me sit up.

"Are you okay?" He asked, worry written all over his face. His eyes scanned over my entire body looking for open wounds.

"Holy fuck, that hurt." I groaned, rubbing my elbows hoping the throbbing would stop.

"Are you bleeding anywhere?" Mingyu questioned while gingerly holding your shoulders and checking your back.

"I don't think I'm bleeding," I winced as his hands pressed my knees, "But I'm most probably bruised."

"Bruised is okay." Mingyu sighed in relief and wrapped me up in a hug. "Bruised is okay."

I pushed away and looked up at him, "Weren't you just mad at me like 10 seconds ago?" I asked.

"I mean I was." Mingyu admitted, "But between listening to you and you being the clumsy girlfriend you are, it kind of vanished."

I smooshed his face between my two hands, "As long as you know that I didn't mean it the way you took it. I only wanted to know if it was a sane thought or if I was being selfish for thinking it."

With lips puckered like a fish, Mingyu shook his head, "No way were you being selfish. I'll admit, I sometimes wish I could feel and do things like that with you but because I can't, I find other joys." He removed both of my hands and just held them, "Like making you a warm drink and tending to you when you clutz up. Which seems to be happening a lot lately."

I pulled my hands free, "I don't clutz up that much." I defended myself.

Mingyu sat back on his heels, "Not as much as I do, no. But you still are a clumsy person." But before I could quip back, he rose up and lifted me to my feet. "You should put some ice on those bruises."

I sat on the couch and watched Mingyu as he went to the kitchen to grab a couple ice packs from the freezer. He caught my gaze while wrapping the ice packs in towels and smirked.

"Like what you see?" He joked and I scoffed.

"You wish."

He walked back over with an ice pack in each hand. "Yet you're still with me."

Gently, he placed one ice pack over my knees then settled the second against my still throbbing elbow. Mingyu then settled onto the couch next to me, an arm around my shoulders.

"And I'm sorry for misunderstanding your thoughts." He apologized, "I don't even know what I was thinking."

"Have you been worrying about things like that?" I asked, looking over at him with concerned eyes.

Mingyu slightly shook his head, "I don't think so."

I kissed his cheek, "You don't have to, I'm not about to walk out." I told him and rested my head on his shoulder.

We sat there for a few minutes in silence, allowing my skin to lose the heat of the fall.

"By the way," Mingyu said, shifting slightly, "I do sometimes wish that we could go out in the world without having to worry about being followed. But then I come see you and we find our own carefree activities and the desire vanishes into thin air."

"Just like that?" I wondered.

"Just like that." Mingyu repeated into my hair before kissing my head.

#seventeen #seventeen imagine #seventeen mingyu #seventeen mingyu imagine #mingyu imagine #kim mingyu imagine #kim mingyu #mingyu #seventeen kim mingyu

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charlemange1 · 4 years

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Ranking adaptations of Victor Frankenstein from least to most evil

The character Victor Frankenstein has been adapted many times over the years. Sometimes he’s a heroic YA protagonist while others have him using his clone army to wipe out humanity and take over the world. But which Victor is truly the worse?

After reading several adaptations, I’ve decided to rank Victor’s morality in each one and find out! The gothic lit community doesn’t talk about these adaptations much, so hopefully this list can introduce the fandom to some of the lesser-known interpretations out there!

This is part one, which ranks printed retellings only. If people enjoy it, I’ll do a part two and merge the films into the mix!

Disclaimers (please read):

SPOILERS! Victor’s actions in these adaptations will be thoroughly analyzed with no regard for the spoiler tag.

Some of the more evil Victor’s get into dark territory, and while I will not go into extensive detail (lest I go insane) if mentions of abuse, sexual themes, possessive behavior and murder bother you, don’t make my mistake and turn back! (I will leave an additional reminder when said parts come up)

This list centers on Victor’s actions and NOT the quality of the books themselves—so if you see your favorite title getting a low score it’s not because it’s a bad book—it’s because Victor is a jerk.

This list is by no means complete, just the ones I’ve read personally.

These are my silly personal opinions and if you disagree with my ranking that’s perfectly fine!

Ranking: On a 1-10 scale, with 10 being fantastic and 0 being “run if you see this man in a dark alley.”

10/10 Perfect Sunbeam. Overall great, wholesome guy!

*crickets chirp in a serene backdrop of a Romantic field*

Good dude

Junji Ito’s Frankenstein: 8.5/10

Props to the master of manga monsters for making the twist be that Victor is not secretly evil/insane.

Not only does Victor pity the creature and agree to create a mate for him—but he keeps his word! This is especially touching when you consider how the creature treks alllllll the way to Switzerland to dig up Justine’s head as a face for the bride. (Henry says he probably didn’t know it was Justines, but come on, you just happened to pick up the head of the girl you framed and carried it for miles across land and sea to deliver it to Victor instead of stopping somewhere closer? I don't buy it.)

Victor even goes the extra mile, kindly stating:

Yet the bride rejects the creature (not Victor’s fault) and in revenge, the creature kills Henry, Elizabeth, and Alphonse. In retaliation, Victor follows him onto the ice and relates his tale to Walton before dying.

Victor's actions are nothing heroic, but what more could he have done? He didn’t break his promise and kill the bride like in the original novel and he clearly cared about reanimating “Justine” as shown in the above image.

And did I mention this manga was done by Junji Ito? Would YOU stay in the same room if you created a Junji Ito monster? Didn't think so! After the initial mistake of abandoning his monster, this Victor did the best he could to make amends and protect his family--making him an overall good person.

Decent guy

This Dark endeavor by Kenneth Oppel: 7/10

Serving as a prequel to the original novel, This Dark Endeavor tells the untold story of what leads young Victor Frankenstein to create his monster.

While Victor very much struggles with his angsty dark desires (bad), he tirelessly searches for the alchemic "Elixir of Life" to save his twin brother (good). A brother who is more talented than Victor, has the heart of his love interest, and Victor believes everyone prefers over himself.

Good on you, Victor, for letting the love for your brother override understandable sibling jealousy. If that wasn’t enough to make him decent, letting a few fingers be cut off to save his twin definitely does.

What brings Victor down to a 7 is his relationship with Elizabeth. It’s born out of jealousy from her loving his twin rather than genuine affection. Even if this retelling makes Elizabeth a feisty, pants-wearing independent female (to lessen the possessive undertones Victor exhibits, I presume? Read it and judge for yourself), the relationship does nothing positive for his character. Tricking someone into kissing you is a jerk move, bro.

Ok I guess….

Such Wicked Intent by Kenneth Oppel 6/10

The sequel to This Dark Endeavor loses Victor’s careful balance of good and bad traits its predecessor boasted. Victor wasn’t perfect in TDE, but the majority of his negative actions stemmed from trying to save his ill brother and were mostly forgivable. In Such Wicked Intent, his understandable sibling jealously now comes off as petty since Victor’s twin is already dead.

Victor trying to bring his brother back to life (good) is undermined by his growing reliance on supernatural butterflies that increase his abilities despite other characters pointing out the obvious danger. Victor is also not the greatest parent to Twin 2.0 and the previous issues with him and Elizabeth from book 1 don’t improve. He’s the same Victor from TDE, but the plot focusing on his selfish desires makes him more flawed as a result.

Frankenstein by Mary Shelley (the original novel): 6/10

Depending on how you interpret the events of the original novel, Victor is either a college Dad in over his head and trying his best after an initial mistake, or a misogynistic, irresponsible jerk only capable of thinking of himself. There are enough professional articles to support both interpretations, and I’m not the person to pick one over the other.

However, if the narrative he tells Walton is to be taken as truth (and the creature not correcting Victor's account tells me it is), Victor spent most of the novel trying to fix his mistake (intentions may vary)—and isn’t too bad as a result.

Pride and Prometheus by John Kessel: 5/10

Despite being a crossover with Pride and Prejudice, Kessel tries to be as faithful to the original Frankenstein as possible. However, the few changes he makes hurts Victor from a moral standpoint.

Victor’s not the greatest guy when handling the romantic gestures of both Mary Bennet and Henry. Also, murdering his creature's mate with poison right before they leave to start their happily ever after is awful, but understandable from his point of view.

Then there's P&P's ending, where Walton describes meeting Victor on the ice. It’s revealed that Victor left killing the creature's mate and the Bennet’s out of his narrative. While this is probably Kessel justifying why Jane Austen’s characters and his changes weren’t mentioned in the original text (and who can blame him?) it does make Victor a liar. In the original, the creature never called Victor out for omitting anything—so altering the story on his deathbed places P&P’s Victor a rung lower than his original counterpart.

Ehh….

Frankenstein According to Spike Milligan: 4/10

As a nearly-word-for-word retelling with minor, humorous changes by the comedian Spike Milligan, Victor is more pathetic than anything. He’s a harmless, pathetic, hilarious jerk.

Some quotes:

"I bounded along with feelings of unbridled joy and hilarity. From a great distance my family could see me bounding with unbridled joy and hilarity." (53)

"'I tell you,’ I said, ‘that murderer had his trousers down, was eating fish paste sandwiches and traveling 100 miles per hour.’" (59)

"‘I can offer you no consolation,’ said he.

‘Then piss off.’ said I." (54)

Here’s his jail visit with Justine in animatic form (and me shamelessly plugging my other creative endeavors)

Monster by Neal Bell 3.5/10

Warning: contains mentions of animal abuse

On one hand, Victor wants to conquer death to save his family and is clearly disturbed over Justine's and his mother’s death. However, the man expresses little concern at the possibility of William getting struck by lightning with his kite in front of his mother who had already lost 9 children.

He can also talk to dogs and cats (for…some reason?) who are portrayed as intelligent beings with feelings—yet that doesn’t stop him from eating said dogs in the Arctic and killing said cat after threatening her with a knife. He also flings around Bible verses while being painfully egotistical about “being God”.

Using Henry’s romantic affections toward him to his advantage, briefly forcing himself on Elizabeth, and tenderly caring for his monster only to abandon him after the creature expresses a want to die just makes him an awful person all around. The fact he doesn’t do these things with clear malicious intent saves him from being any lower.

Quotes:

ELIZABETH: A bone. A brittle bit of skin. A tooth—

VICTOR: Would you not be womanish now?

Be useful. Here—hold the Leyden jar,

While I attach the string…

VICTOR: A satisfactory morning, then, Mister Puss—tormenting the dogs?

CAT: God gave me a duty. I fulfill it.

VICTOR: Papa says there is no God.

(He takes out a knife)

Pretty bad dude

WARNING: Please note that some of these Victors get into unsavory territory. If the mention of sexual themes/abuse/murder bothers you turn back:

The Casebook of Victor Frankenstein by Peter Ackroyd: 3/10

This one was tricky. The narrative chugs along with Victor being an intelligent, thoughtful guy with only a few obsessive tendencies. He’s chilling with the Shelleys, talking to the poor in the streets and financially supporting Fred’s family along with giving out generous tips. He’s a cool guy. He’s a great dude! He’s….revealed in the final 2 pages to be recounting everything from a mental asylum, the monster was in his head, and he’s actually the one that committed the murders.

Alrighty then. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Having his insanity revealed in the final pages, it’s hard to judge whether there was genuine malicious intent or if Victor truly thought he created the creature and believed he was doing good in trying to “stop” it. No matter his intentions though, the body count remains and a child strangler has no place being anything higher than a 3.

The Dark Descent of Elizabeth Frankenstein by Kiersten White: 1/10

We all knew this one would make the list. Elizabeth’s first flashback sets up Victor as having serious issues—the question becomes how low will he go? Turns out pretty low.

He’s the one who killed William and framed Justine along with murdering his father, brother Robert and various people at Ingolstadt.

What really makes him despicable is that Elizabeth is the novel's main POV character who only sticks with Victor so she’s not thrown out on the streets. He’s abusive, controlling, dominating, and so possessive that he’ll perfect reanimation so that not even death can take her away from him! Yikes. I can’t stress enough how being in Elizabeth’s POV makes these actions all the more menacing.

Quote:

“There was never another path for you. Consider how much worse it has all been for me. How much I have had to suffer. And how much of that suffering has been caused directly by you!” His face twitched, and his fingers tightened on the pistol. Then he sighed. “It does not do to dwell on it. There is no point in fighting. This is your fate, Elizabeth Frankenstein. I will let no other claim you—not man, not death, not even God.” (279)

Nice guy.

Despite his terrible actions, Victor is trying to "save" Elizabeth from death. In his mind, he wants what’s best for her. It’s a crazy mind that mixed up domination and love, but the fact that his evil actions come from wanting to keep someone he wants to control cares about safe vs. other versions where his crimes stem from wanting to rival god and rule the world, this version isn’t THAT bad. At least his hearts in the right place—even if his mentality is utter garbage.

The Memoirs of Elizabeth Frankenstein by Theodore Roszak 0/10

*insert my screams of insurmountable anguish here*

Caroline: Hey son, you should do NSFW things.

Victor: Sure. I will now do NSFW things.

Victor: *proceeds to do NSFW things*

The reprint of this novel mentions on the cover it’s erotica, but the copy I bought (and to this day have not finished) had no such disclaimer. I’ll break my rule and speak on the quality of this book: there is none. For an alleged “pro-feminism” novel everyone is terrible—and Victor is no exception.

Literally Satan.

Dean Koontz’s Frankenstein Series: -∞/10

So you’ve read far enough to join me in Hell.

Where do even I start? This is a Victor who extended his life to the present day. Who worked with Hitler, Stalin, Castro and regretted the fall of the Third Reich. Who created an army of emotionally deprived “new race” creations to kill people and assume their identities so he could ascend the ranks of politics. Who, once he has enough of his new race integrated into society, desires to commit mass genocide on humanity and establish himself as supreme ruler of the world—only then can he conquer the cosmos as well because why the hell not?

Oh, and he’s a wife-beater/murderer too! Which isn’t a problem, considering he can create a new wife whenever he sees fit (he was on Erika 5 by book 3). The sheer lack of any positive traits in this man is laughable. Koontz really, REALLY wants to get across that Victor is a bad guy.

And if you’re somehow not convinced by the above description, here are some quotes I pulled from the first 3 novels as a bonus to reeeeeally sell how despicable this clown is:

Regarding Elizabeth:

“Victor had not loved Elizabeth. Love and God were myths he rejected with equal contempt. But Elizabeth had belonged to him. Even after more than 200 years, he still bitterly resented the loss of her, as he would have resented losing an exquisite antique porcelain vase if [his creature] had smashed that instead of the bride,” (3.97).

Regarding Mary Shelley:

“When Mary Shelley took a local legend based on truth and crafted fiction from it, she made Victor a tragic figure and killed him off. He understood her dramatic purpose for giving him a death scene, but he loathed her for portraying him as tragic and as a failure. Her judgment of his work was arrogant. What else of consequence did she ever write? And of the two, who was dead—and who was not?” (1.79-80)

(Author Note: For your information, Victor, The Last Man is considered by some to be the first dystopian novel)

His…ah…"friends”:

“Fire was featured in some of his less pleasant memories. The great windmill. The bombing of Dresden. The Israeli Mossad attack on the secret Venezuelan research complex that he had shared with Mengele in the years after World War Two. Nevertheless, he liked to read to the accompaniment of a cozy crackling fire,” (1.76).

“Victor admired Hitler. The Führer knew talent when he saw it.

In the 1930s and 40s, Victor had worked with Mengele and others in Hitler's privileged scientific class. He made considerable progress in his work before the regrettable allied victory…the problem with the Führer had been that his roots were in art and politics…The future did not belong either to artists or to politicians,” (2.24-25).

Dat ego tho:

“When I die, those cells will be capped descend a signal that will be relayed by satellite to everyone made of new race flesh, to every meat machine that walks. And you will fall down dead,’…Victor smiled, anticipating triumph in spite of their silence. ‘Did you think a God would die alone?’” (3.345).

Civilization would not be remade or sustained by Christianity or by Islam. Neither by Scientologists nor by the bright-eyed adherence of the deliciously solipsistic paranoid new religion encouraged by The Da Vinci Code. Tomorrow belonged to scientism. The priests of scientism were not merely robed clerics performing rituals, they were gods, with the power of gods. Victor himself was their Messiah,” (2.25).

“With Victor's unstoppable drive for power, with his singular intellect, with his cold materialism and his ruthless practicality, and now with synchronicity on his side, he had become untouchable, immortal.

He was immortal,” (3.329).

“How they goggled at him, abashed by his wisdom and knowledge, mortified by their ignorance, over-awed by his godlike power,” (3.330).

“’Murder,’ said the caller. ‘murder…excites me.’

Victor kept the growing concern out of his voice. ‘No, your mind is fine. I don't make mistakes.’” (1.156)

Oh yeah, he has a wife, doesn't he:

“This is why Victor requires …the cruel humiliation of his partner. He has long ago transcended the guilt that committing acts of cruelty might spawn in others...the exercise of raw power thrills him,” (1.244).

“I have given you a life…remember that. I have given you a life, and I will choose what you do with it,” (1.464).

Wives view of him:

“She owned literally hundreds of outfits. Having been created to his ideal measurements, Victor had purchased everything…She hoped that someday she would be allowed to shop for herself. When Victor allowed that, she would know she had at last met his standards and earned his trust. Briefly, she wondered what it would be like not to care what Victor—or anyone—thought of her. To be herself. Independent. Those were dangerous thoughts. She must repress them.” (1.107)

And those are just the PG bits, he does much, much worse.

In conclusion:

So yes, Spike Milligan made Victor a pathetic jerk, Casebook made Victor a madman, Memoirs made him an erotic predator, Dark Descent had him as an abusive boyfriend ruthless in possessing “his Elizabeth”, but nearly succeeding at worldwide genocide while abusing/murdering/manipulating people to achieve his goals makes Dean Koontz’s Victor Frankenstein the worse, more morally despicable Victor Frankenstein of them all. At least from what I’ve read.

Annnnd that’s it! If you want me to make a part 2 and add in the films/plays let me know! Hopefully at least one of these peeked your interest as something to check out during spooky season.

Shameless plug-in: here’s my own Frankenstein adaptation

Bonus!

Ranking the books on how much I liked them personally!

Great:

The Dark Descent of Elizabeth Frankenstein: Nice to see Victor’s villainy stem from family relations and not ego and wanting to defy God for a change.

Junji Ito’s Frankenstein: Phenomenal artwork, fairly faithful adaptation, and the changes serve to put Victor in a better light—which I love! The master of manga monsters himself made the right choice in keeping the creature more monstrous in this version instead of focusing on his humanity.

This Dark Endeavor: Frankenstein characters go on a Harry Potter styled adventure. Need I say more?

Average:

Such Wicked Intent: Victor’s character takes a dip, and pit monsters/life-absorbing butterflies don’t quite fit in a Frankenstein prequel.

Frankenstein According to Spike Milligan: It’s a silly, stupid comedy. Got a few chuckles out of me.

Pride and Prometheus: The concept works way better than it should. However, it follows the original text to a fault and can be boring at points.

Bad:

Warning: contains mentions of suicide

Monster: Victor’s character was far too inconsistent to be likable. He can talk to animals why, exactly?

Casebook of Victor Frankenstein: So, Victor is revealed to be crazy in the final 3 pages? So, the monster was in his head? Alright. But other characters throughout the book SAW the monster and described him like Victor did. So, there’s no way to separate Victor’s POV from reality and that kills the reread value and makes this a waste of time. Don’t get me wrong, the creature being symbolic for Victor’s inner demons is a fascinating direction if done well—and I recommend the essay “Frankenstein: The Man and the Monster” by Arthur Belefant if you want a much shorter exploration of this concept. It’s not perfect, but beats Casebook by a longshot!

Also, taking the real-life suicide of Percy’s wife Harriet and turning it into Victor murdering her and framing it on someone else to mimic Frankenstein’s Justine/William scene is just wrong. You made a woman’s suicide a cheap plot point in your fanfic of the mistress’s novel. That is what you did, author.

Dean Koontz Frankenstein: It starts out good and has great suspense—too bad the actual plot is awful. Victor’s so painfully evil it comes off as comical, the characters are bad/bland, plot holes abound (they state Mary Shelley’s novel is canon, then mention the windmill which was only in the films—so who even IS this Victor? Book or film?). The conclusion in book 3 is one of the most underwhelming finals I’ve ever read, and the creature “cures” a kid of Autism in the final chapter. No really. How this is a book series/comic series/movie is beyond me.

So atrocious I couldn’t bring myself to finish:

Warning: contains mentions of sexual themes

The Memoirs of Elizabeth Frankenstein: It claims to be pro-feminist, but the women “good guys” blatantly state they are grooming children for sexual rituals and Victor and Elizabeth are coerced into doing NSFW things by Victor’s mother in the name of “women’s rights”. Here’s the kicker: these awful actions are framed as being positive. I—a woman—loath this novel. Maybe things got better by the end (and if there was some plot twist that changed the entire setup, I apologize for ranting about nothing) but I’m not reading to that point to find out! This will forever stay both my first and last experience with erotic literature. Thank goodness The Dark Descent of Elizabeth Frankenstein exists to give us a decent feminist take on Frankenstein!

#THIS TOOK OVER 5 YEARS AND I'M FINALLY DONE!#victor frankenstein #frankenstein #halloween #gothic literature #classic literature #frankenstein adaptations #frankenstien au #frankenstein memes #the casebook of victor frankenstein #the dark descent of elizabeth frankenstein #frankenstein according to spike milligan #dean koontz frankenstein #Monster neal bell #this dark endeavor #such wicked intent #pride and prometheus #charlemagne1

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peeterparkr · 4 years

Text

limits of desire⤳t.h.||20

chapter 20: the honeymoon.

story summary: you met Tom a night he was trying to sleep with you, it didn’t work and you became best of friends. Wedding bells might be ringing for when you both realize what you really feel.

summary: the one with the silence and the halloween party

pairing: fuckboy!tom holland x best friend!reader

warnings: swearing, alcohol, just a little angsty but not really

word count: 5.7K

song I recommend to listen while reading:

if i could fly-one direction

night changes-one direction

back to you-selena gomez

secrets-one republic

change my mind-one direction

listen to one direction

previous chapter epilogue series masterlist wanna be tagged?

Silence is such a tricky concept when it comes to love. Silence is a tragedy when two lovers can’t say what they truly want. Comfortable silence sounds ideal when you go past the zone of judgement. Y/N and Tom had always loved the silence between them, when they could spend an afternoon doing nothing, each in their thoughts and no feeling of anxiety or discomfort. That’s the ideal.

But they had come to the tragedy silence, once which felt like having their voice cut by their own hands. It would be easier had they left things unclear. It’s easier to know someone doesn’t love you back and go separate ways.

Yet they knew they loved each other. And they knew they were meant to be. So hard to part when you both know you want to be together. But when one’s love is that strong then it won’t matter.

But it did, didn’t it?

They didn’t like each other anymore. But they did. However, they had to pretend like they didn’t. Or pretend they were not aware the other existed.

That was the agreement they had reached, become strangers. But how can one pretend to be a stranger to someone whose lips you can still taste in the corner of your mouth?

To play pretend they didn’t hear each other’s name whenever the other came up in conversation. To ignore the tickle in their tummy if someone dared to mention the other.

Because they had to grow, they had to heal and they had to learn. But their absence was too much sometimes.

Tom and y/n hadn’t talked since. Silence.

However, they had cheated. They had seen each other, incidentally, but avoided their glances even if they both knew they were staring. Going to places where both knew they’d find each other. That wasn’t considered like breaking a rule, was it?

It had not been planned, but it had been wished. Tom had walked in to their favorite cafe with the only desire to be reminded of her, and it seemed she had thought the same thing. They hadn’t initially seen each other, but as Tom was looking around, he saw her. And he was reminded of a simpler time.

Y/N with her notebook, a pencil pressed against her lips, her hair tied up as she hovered through her keyboard, and as she stared at an open old book. A half bitten croissant and a lipstick stained coffee mug. So focused on whatever she was doing, like the good old days where he had met her there and she had a paper, or an exam or whatever that her classes were putting up with her now.

And Tom had felt how his heart had stopped, because it had been a month already. And he had felt like he had just been stabbed right in his chest but healed right away.

Then she looked up and dropped the pencil, as her eyes landed on him. They stared into each other's eyes and it felt eternal. But Tom quickly cleared his throat and looked away.

They weren’t ready, and they both knew it. But Tom had dared to look back up again, and she gave him a heart full of sad smiles, Tom gave her a smile back and then chuckled to himself.

And Tom tried to ignore her but kept glancing at her, and she looked better.

And it became a routine, one that couldn’t be spoken. Sometimes, they’d incidentally be at the same cafe or at the bakery at the same time on Sundays, but never look into each other’s eyes and never even dared to speak a word. But they could steal a glance or two, and dedicate a smile. They’d sit across each other, usually, y/n curled up with a book, or writing on her pad or typing.

Tom would bring in scripts, or just stare at his phone.

It was their secret.

That was at the beginning, at least, but then they got busier, and Tom had to leave to film.

Tom knew she had lost her almost job at the BBC after the events at the press conference, however a magazine had searched for her. Now she was writing for a fashion magazine in their wedding section, the biggest irony one could think of.

Tom had read each and every one of her articles, but the first one she’d written. He’d kept in his heart.

Tom would re-read it again and again, memorizing its words, and he’d read all of them. She’d changed her name on instagram, too. She called herself “The Runaway Bride” that was her section on the magazine. Now her life was ruled completely by the title of it. Tom understood it was better than having the other nicknames they had given her as of when she had rejected him.

But she was different. She had a blog, she was writing, and she would post poems sometimes. At least that’s what he’d gotten from a quick stroll through her instagram. Nothing too big.

But Tom eventually stopped looking at it, because they had agreed on that. They were supposed to become strangers. And this wasn't doing this.

Award season had begun and every time a reporter would stop him, he’d try to imagine that y/n could be there, interviewing him for real, instead of the crazy and silly imaginings they would come up with. He missed her.

.He wondered if y/n was ready. He probably wasn’.t. Because they had agreed on it, we’ll search for each other when we no longer need each other. And the fact that he still had to search for her meant he needed her.

And their visits faded away, and that’s when it all started to turn on the lights. He remembered her, for sure, in the details. Like in the mornings when he was drinking his tea and asked himself if he wanted lemon and honey or cream and sugar. Or whenever he was watching Friends, and he’d turn around to quote it with her, and he’d realize that she wasn’t there. Sundays felt different.

He wondered if it was bad to think about her from time to time, wondering if she was alright. He didn’t understand his heart anymore. But Tom knew, this time was for her the same as when she had left. This was the reflection she needed.

And she had traveled to Paris, to Milan, and to Prague. Her job, Tom knew. And he had traveled to, press tour, filming.

And Tom dated. Once, or twice. Actual dates, not one night stands. He had gone out, and played it all. But it was just a way to confirm it more. He loved y/n and there was no one else he wanted to be around.

And Tom would sometimes sit down and dress up and he’d have nowhere to go, but he knew it was good to wait, because the moment she came back, he’d give her all his love. But he couldn’t help but stare at the clock.

The months went by and by. And he had hovered over her instagram page and realized it, they’d become strangers. They knew nothing about each other anymore. She had texted him on his birthday, he had texted her on hers.

Something weird had happened, something nobody had seen coming. Not Y/N and Tom at least. Harrison and Lizzie had started dating.

But Tom guessed that he had been so selfish and so focused on y/n that he hadn’t seen that Haz and Lizzie had grown closer since Tom and Y/N’s first kiss. They had started texting each other, and seeing each other, trying to solve their friends’ stupid decision. And eventually, they’d hang out with each other with the simple excuse they wanted to see each other.

Tom would try to ask about y/n but Haz wouldn’t let him. And Lizzie would be hanging out at their place and Tom would try to sneak a question or too, and Lizzie would answer:

“She’s not ready yet, Tom. Neither are you. But she’s alright.”

Haz had told him that y/n had gone out in a few dates, too.

“Haz told you?” Liz asked. “Huh, he shouldn’t have but yes, but… Look, I shouldn’t be telling you this, but they weren’t… Great, she had a good time but there were no second dates if that’s what you’re asking.”

And sooner or later, it was around Halloween. 10 months without her. But he hadn’t been thinking about that, not for the last few months at least. She did cross his mind every now and then.

But he didn’t mind it, he was getting ready for a Halloween party that Harrison was throwing. Haz and Liz were going to go as Bonnie and Clyde.

Tom had decided to go as Hercules, Haz had given him the idea, it could hurt no one, right?

And he was getting ready, everything was fine.

But Tom was having a good time, the music was great, his friends were there and the games were fun. He was fine. He had had a couple beers. But he was okay, some friends of his were there. And some friends of Liz’ too. He recognized Hannah and Jess whom he hadn’t seen since… the wedding. He felt weird, seeing them.

But he continued to ignore it, he was okay. And then it happened. Just like every other single time, he felt like the music had suddenly stopped.

The door had opened and he swore he could listen to the air outside just as the light hit her just in her smile. Her hair seemed shorter, and her cheeks and lips were pink. She was followed by no other than a guy, he looked handsome enough. And Tom shattered right there. He imagined all the scenarios, maybe she had met him at her job, or maybe at the coffee house that one time Tom had not gone to, or maybe in Paris, or Milan or Prague. Was this the second time? Had y/n realized she truly didn’t want to be with him? Had she come to ask him again to be her maid of honour? Had she already married?

But then as he saw their interaction it seemed to be a mere coincidence, two strangers who had walked in at the same time. Y/N ignored the guy as he walked in saying hello to some of the people already having fun. She stayed there taking off her coat revealing a pink dress, Megara, Tom acknowledged. Tom understood then, why Haz had been so insistent on the Hercules costume. And Tom realized it then that the guy who had walked in was in no way dating y/n. She lifted up her bags and walked over to the table where the drinks were, she took out some bottles and a bag of crisps.

Tom had zoned out, and his eyes were directed at her and only her. Harry had replaced the empty beer on Tom’s hand with another beer.

Tom’s eyes widened.

“Bottoms up, or… offer one to her, maybe?”

But Tom couldn’t even move. He watched as a tipsy Lizzie had approached y/n and hugged her.

She seemed nervous. He watched her shake her head and look around the room, playing with her hair.

“Did… did you know?” Asked Tom.

Harry chuckled. “Yeah, but they forbid me to give you a heads up,” Harry admitted. “Was it… Are you alright?”

Tom sipped his beer. “I… I dunno.”

“That’s why you’ve had a beer in your hand all night, ‘right?” Harry explained.

“Why…?”

“I think you’re ready, ain’t you?” Harry asked. “‘Cause she is, at least, Haz told me that she asked if she could come.”

“She’s ready?” Tom watched her as he saw Lizzie trying to calm her down, too. She hadn’t seen him.

“Oi, to be in the same room as you, at least,” Harry told him.

Tom nodded. “Right, but I feel like I shouldn’t… Walk up to her, right? It’s...it’s been a while, what would I even say?”

“A hello wouldn’t hurt.”

Tom shook his head. “Not, not...yet.”

Harry didn’t push it. But Tom avoided y/n, but he saw Haz and Tuwaine talking to her. Even the twins, he guessed they had missed her. And a shy smile was on her. But he noticed something, people weren’t leaning in. She wasn’t whispering. Tom thought about how different things would have been had this party been two years ago, Tom would have made sure to have something to make pink mimosas, and he would be flirting with her, on the couch probably, hugging her as they played something, but he’d end up with someone else.

But they weren’t talking, they hadn’t even seen each other in the eyes. Probably, Tom guessed, she had seen him and tried to steal a glance.

Eventually Tom walked to the table where the drinks were. He was pouring some water when he felt someone approach him.

“What’s someone like you doing in a place like this?” The voice asked.

Tom went stiff as he turned around.

She was there, with that smile she had, one he remembered, the sad apologetic one. Tom had to lick his lips as he stared at her.

“Hi,” Tom finally breathed in.

“Hi,” she bit her lip.

He didn’t say anything, instead, he just tried to adjust his grip on his red cup of water.

“I… I know it was a risky move,” Y/N started. “But I…”

Tom smiled. “No, no… it’s… it’s perfect,” he grinned. “Uh… how, how…”

“I’m good,” y/n admitted. “What about you? I saw you just came back from filming…”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tom ran a hand through his hair.

Y/N looked up and down. “Hercules, huh?”

“Yeah, Haz insisted,” Tom chuckled. “Now I...kind of see why, Megara,” he grinned as he saw her costume.

“Nice knees,” she giggled.

Tom blushed, rolling his eyes. “I’m kind of pulling it off, ain’t I?” Tom grinned.

“You… actually are,” y/n laughed. “Wonderboy. The hair looks good,” she said, ruffling it a little. “Okay, turn around,” she chuckled as he did, trying to show off. “Yeah, yeah, looks good.”

“You… you look very beautiful, too,” Tom admitted making her blush. “Can’t believe they set us up, though.”

Y/N laughed. “Liz asked me about a month ago whom I was dressing up as for Halloween, I told her Meg to shut her up and then she actually bought this.”

“She did?” Tom chuckled.

“Yeah, at the end I was going to do a last-minute costume, but she had it,” Y/N rolled her eyes.

Tom gulped. “Oh, so you’ve known about this for a month?”

“Didn’t know it would be…” Y/N trailed off. “I mean I knew I’d go to a party, but I well—“

Tom wished he had pockets to dig his hands in. “Right,” Tom laughed.

“I’ve missed you,” she admitted.

He smiled. “I’ve missed you, too.” And they looked into each other. “Uh… Can I offer you a drink?” Tom asked.

She grinned.

“Sure, a beer would be good.”

Tom looked up for it and then stared at her. “This is weird isn’t it?”

“I wouldn’t—Kinda, yeah, kinda weird.”

Tom looked around. “Let’s go outside,” Tom suggested and y/n followed him,

“We agreed on being strangers,” Tom said as they walked outside, a few other people were there, but they found a spot where they could sit.

Y/N looked at him. “After all we’ve been through, I can’t pretend I don’t know you, Thomas.”

Tom nodded, they clicked their beer together and then proceeded to take a sip.

“I mean we could pretend,” Tom suggested. “Maybe we could go back in time, Halloween 6 years ago.”

Y/N chuckled. “Oh, right. Have you any perfume hanging around so I can spray it on you?”

Tom chuckled. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

She shrugged. “Maybe.”

“No, but—“

“You don’t feel like a stranger,” she nudged him.

“But I could be, you know?” Tom grinned.

“And what would you do if you were a stranger?” Y/N asked. “You wouldn’t even look at me if it weren’t for our history.”

Tom looked at her. “What?”

Y/n chuckled. “Please there are lots of prettier girls out there.”

And it felt like an old conversation, one they would’ve had before. Like they used to because, in a way, it didn’t feel weird, it felt like the conversation they could’ve had had she not returned last year engaged.

“Yet I’m here with you,” Tom pointed out.

Y/N grinned. “Hmm lucky me.”

“I would be here anyway,” Tom chuckled. “I mean you’re dressed up as Megara, it’s kind of meant to be, isn’t it?”

“Meant to be?” Y/N chuckled. “Or more like those two dickheads over there are onto something,” y/n pointed out as she signalled Haz and Liz who had their eyes glued on them. Tom and y/n flipped them off at the same time and then proceeded to laugh together. But then the laugh quickly faded out.

“But if I were a stranger…”He cleared his throat and walked away then back to her, as y/n watched him with curiosity. “Hey.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Hi?”

“I’m Tom,” he grinned. “Can I sit here?”

“Sure, a friend just left,” she chuckled.

“Hm, a friend,” Tom smiled sitting down beside her. “So what’s your name?”

“Tom—“She chuckled. “We don’t have to do—“

“No, no, hey, we are strangers, I wanna get to know you.”

She glared at him but he winked at her, making her blush.

“My name is y/n,” she grinned.

“Hmm… funny name,” Tom pointed out.

“Hey!” She nudged him.

“Sorry, I’m honest, you should know that about me,” Tom shrugged. “Which is basically a way to shield me on being a jerk.”

“You don’t seem like a jerk,” she smiled.

“So, what do you do for a living?”

She giggled. “I’m… a reporter and a writer, I work at the BBC and I occasionally write for a magazine.”

Tom bit his lip. “That’s great.”

“What about you?”

“I’m an actor,” Tom said.

“Ah cool, have I seen you in anything?” She teased.

“Mm,” Tom scrunched his nose. “Probably not, maybe this project, you may have heard of it… The avengers? I play this guy Spiderman.”

Y/N shook her head. “Never heard of it,” she lied and let out a laugh.

“Yeah, no, it’s pretty small,” he smirked.

“Someday you’ll have your big breakout don’t worry,” y/n grinned.

“So you’re a reporter that must… mean you travel a lot!” Tom asked.

She frowned.

“You seem like someone who’s travelled lately,” Tom said condescendingly.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “So someone’s been looking at my Instagram.”

“How could I? We just met,” Tom smirked, sipping his beer. “But is that a way of giving me your Instagram? Are you flirting with me?”

“Tommy,” She rolled her eyes.

“Already starting with nicknames, sweetheart?” Tom teased.

Y/N glared at him jokingly.

“Well, have you travelled?”

“Reporters usually—“Y/N cleared her throat. “Well they usually don’t do it that much, but yeah, I have travelled.”

Tom bit his lip. “Where to, lately?”

“Recently went to Italy.”

“What did you do there?”

y/n sighed and looked away.

“Hm?” Tom pushed.

“I… Tom, I should’ve...Told you before,” y/n bit her lip.

“What?”

“I got engaged.”

Tom stopped. He felt cold. He felt sick. He wanted to get sucked into the earth. This was the same shit all over again. He went pale. He was sweating cold.

But he was mature enough, and though it hurt, he knew that this had been a consequence of the silence and he should've stopped her when he could’ve. But if she had taken this decision, it meant that they never should have been in the first place, if finding herself meant she was in love with someone else, then he had to agree with it.

“I...well, I’m happy for you.” And he meant it, in a way he was happy for her.

Y/N then burst into laughter, as she threw her head back.

Tom frowned. “What?”

“Oh my god, I’m joking!” She explained in between laughs.

“What?”

“I’m not engaged, oh my god,” she said.

Tom felt the warmth coming back to his body. He had to stand up to laugh nervously to himself.

“Oh my god,” y/n laughed. “You actually believed it?”

Tom rubbed his hair and his face, nervously. Now chuckling embarrassed. “How could I not? God,” Tom chuckled, placing a hand on his chest. “I almost had a heart attack.”

“I...oh my god, no I’m sorry,” she giggled, standing up, placing only one hand over his shoulder. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry it was too soon.”

Tom pulled her into a hug, because he felt like he had wanted to wrap himself around her since he had first seen her walk in. She gave in to the hug, and nuzzled into him, she’d missed him too, Tom guessed.

“I hate you,” he stated.

She grinned. “You should’ve seen your face.”

He let her go and sat back again. “You suck.”

“I know,” she grinned, sitting back down. “But see? We can’t act like strangers.”

“You dropped that bomb only to prove that?”

“A stranger wouldn’t have reacted that way,” she winked at him.

Tom laughed. “Well, I’m sorry?” Tom was dignified.

“We’re not strangers, Tommy, even if sometimes I wish we were.”

“Yeah, after that I wish I didn’t know you either,” he joked, nudging her. “

She smiled, slightly.

“It would be too ironic, wouldn’t it? Had I really been engaged, but I—It would be impossible,” she confessed. “Maybe it sounds conceited , but… It would be pretty stupid even if I was dating someone.”

Tom watched her.

“Dating is underrated,” Tom agreed.

“Have you dated?” Y/N asked.

“I—Well, I have,” he admitted.

“Yeah, me too, they set me up a few times,” y/n accepted. “How did they go? Are you seeing anyone? Met anybody?”

“I have,” Tom admitted.

It was y/n’s turn to become stiff. He saw how the light in her eyes faded away and the smile she was wearing disappeared. She had to shift in her place but nodded.

“Oh,” she licked her lips. “Cool, what’s her name?”

“I’m not sure if I should tell you,” Tom sighed. “It’s…”

“Is it serious?” Y/N asked, and Tom could tell she was trying to speak with the least poison she could.

Tom shrugged. “I mean, well. Kind of.”

Y/N played with her fingers. “Well, I’m…” Y/N looked around. “Maybe you can give her someday that ring you bought, the Tiffany’s one.”

Tom’s eyes widened. “What?”

“You know, the one that was in your nightstand a few months ago,” y/n snaked.

“I wouldn’t give her that ring,” Tom chuckled, nervously. “How did you know?”

“Why not?” Y/N smiled.

“Y/N.”

She smiled sadly. “If you love her, don’t let her go.”

Tom felt a stab on his heart and then rubbed his face. “Oh god, how do you do it?”

“What?” Y/N frowned.

“I was trying to pull off the same stupid joke you made yet I’m here feeling guilty for even coming up with it,” Tom scoffed, letting out a gentle and embarrassed chuckle.

“So you’re…?” Y/N frowned.

“No, I’m not seeing anybody,” Tom laughed. “How could I?”

And she finally breathed out, nervously as she loosened up herself. “Oh, you looked so serious,” she giggled. “Dumbass! I really believed it.”

“You don’t give much credit to yourself, y/n,” Tom pushed back a loose strand of hair. “You sometimes forget I’ve been in love with you since we first met, and I haven’t stopped loving you since.”

She blushed and stared into his eyes, and he felt it again, he felt his soul naked with her, as if she knew all his secrets. But he didn’t have to have any secrets with her.

“That’s good to know,” she smiled as her fingers finally searched for his hand.

“I do want to know, y/n,” he cleared his throat. “What ring are you talking about?”

She shrugged. “I...remember that day before the dancing lessons?” y/n asked him.

“I...yeah?”

“Well, I went to your room to search for a charger and I… opened it and I found it,” she admitted.

Tom felt his heart break. “Oh, yeah.”

She stayed quiet.

“Well, before I knew you were…. Engaged, I well, I may have thought about going down on one knee,” he admitted truthfully. “But I… well, I don’t have it anymore.”

She nodded.

And they stayed quiet, for a bit. Drinking their beers. And the party was continuing around them. And Tom was sure that he should kiss her, but it wasn’t the time. Right now, it really wasn’t the time. Even if he was almost certain she loved him still. But maybe they truly were strangers now, maybe they had always been strangers. Because they had kept secrets, secrets that shouldn’t have been kept. But she felt like home, like listening to an old song, or like tasting an ice cream that you used to love in your childhood.

And even if everyone else was drunk enough and loud enough, he knew that they were quiet. The moon was hitting her on her nose, and she was taking his breath away. Tom felt defenceless.

“I had to stop myself from calling, even if I did this one time” she whispered. Tom watched her. “I had all this time to be apart from you and I only could think on the day we’d see each other again.”

Tom watched her carefully. “The boys missed you.”

“Did they?” Y/N grinned.

“Yeah,” Tom gulped. “They missed your laugh around the house.”

She grinned. “Oh, nice.”

“And the path you left with that perfume,” he continued. “And they realized that red m&m’s exist,” he chuckled. “And they missed you because no one would finish my Friends quotes, so they had to learn them.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” he cleared his throat. “And they missed that there was no one leaving books around the house, and they pointed out that we no longer were randomly interviewed so we didn’t have anyone to practice our oscar interviews with.”

She blushed. “They missed all of that, huh.”

“Yeah,” Tom took a deep breath. “But hey, you’re back, right?” Tom gulped. “I mean because they’ve missed you.”

“Should I?” She grinned.

He shrugged.

“You know, I missed them too, but…” She looked around. “So maybe I should stick around by now, so they don’t have to deal with the red M&M’s.”

Tom nodded.

“It’s weird, you know, I wanted to stay for other reasons,” she started.

“Oh, really which ones?”

She shrugged. “Tell me what you want to hear,” she whispered.

Tom bit his lip. “I don’t even know what I want to hear.”

“I found myself, Tom,” she admitted. “But I realized that whoever I am is because of you, you know? And maybe… Maybe I am slightly drunk alright? But you are really the reason that keeps me going, and I realized that you’re really that goodbye I will never be able to say because I… it’s true, I can’t live without you.”

“Maybe it was stupid to be apart.”

“Or maybe it wasn’t,” she shrugged. “I don’t know how you feel about it, but I’m certain, even if I… if I’m dirty now, all stained, even after everything, is it wrong that I still want to give everything away just to be close to you?”

He didn’t say anything. “I almost called you a few times, too. I think I called you once, drunkenly.”

“You did, it was at 4 am, and you left a voicemail, and I’ve gotta admit, I listened to it so many times I ended up memorizing it,” she confessed. “You know? It was… different for me, I didn’t miss you when I was drunk,” she said. Tom frowned. “I missed you in the morning, or when something good happened and I had to tell someone, and none of the people I could tell was you, and I missed your laugh too, I missed having someone annoying the hell out of me when I was working.”

Tom smirked.

“And I… also missed you at random times, and I may have or may have not asked Lizzie to steal a hoodie of yours, she didn’t do it, and I’m glad because that would’ve been very creepy,” she admitted, embarrassed.

Tom laughed. “I almost bought your perfume.”

She looked at the party.

“We should dance,” she suggested.

“Really y/n while we’re…” He chuckled, but she had already taken his hand and dragged him back inside to dance. He knew she loved dancing. So he pulled her closer, and their friends were in a bit state of shock for a bit, watching them have fun.

But they were dancing, sillying around, and drinking. They played some games and had fun, forgetting their past conversations or their past situation. They were like strangers, flirting with each other, dancing with the other.

She spoke with Harry and Sam, she was laughing with Tuwaine. But Tom wouldn’t leave her side. They took shots together, and drinks and beers.

“Hey,” Lizzie had dragged y/n out from Tom’s grip as Harrison had pulled Tom with him.

Y/n drunkenly chuckled. “Yep?”

“How’s it going?” Lizzie asked, handing her friend a glass of water.

Y/N downed the drink and shrugged. “I wanna make out with him and hold his tush.”

Lizzie widened her eyes and laughed. “Alright, you’re drunk drunk.”

Y/N grinned. “A wee bit, yeh.”

Liz sighed. “Y/N, don’t do anything you’ll regret, and now drink more of this,” she filled up the glass with more water.

Y/N downed it again. “Hmm.”

Harrison couldn’t calm a giggling Tom.

“Mate, are you okay?”

“Nah,” Tom laughed. “But she’s ‘eeeere mate.”

Haz rolled his eyes. “Did you talk?”

“A lil’ yea,” but then he walked past Harrison and back to y/n. They were sobering up, as they were talking in the couch. Pure nonsense, really, but they couldn’t keep their hands or eyes off each other.

This definitely wasn’t what they had expected, they probably thought their reencounter wouldn’t have been like this, y/n at least had thought it would be like on a rom-com or a romantic novel, where they would stare at each other and kiss and profess their love, instead they were drunk to their asses giggling to random nonsense.

But they were catching up, in their own stupid way. And it felt like old times, two friends making each other laugh and telling stories. And they didn’t pay attention to anything else, it was like the spotlight was on them and only them.

Her head landed on his shoulder eventually as Tom was showing pictures onset or as she showed him random pictures of her travels.

And sooner or later, people were leaving. And Haz and Liz were probably too busy making out, or god knows where to notice y/n and Tom had walked out of the house to go for a walk.

They were holding hands and ended up in the park near Tom’s house. They had sobered up, enough to be able to talk without dragging their tongue.

The night was quiet, but it felt just like the party. Nothing surrounding them mattered, their eyes were glued to each other. And they felt like home.

And both of them were dying for a kiss,but it wasn’t the time. Or maybe neither were brave enough.

Y/N was the one to break the silence. “I get it if you’re not ready yet,” she started and her voice was soft, Tom had to lean to listen to her. “I wouldn’t blame you, I hurt you and I know that it was too much and I know that even with everything, it’s delicate, I know that it would tear apart your reputation and I know that after all that I’ve done, I have no right in asking you anything but you don’t have to do anything.”

“I’d risk it all for you, you know?”

“But I don’t want you to,” she looked at him. “I like you, and I don’t know if it’s cool if I say it, you know? All night love I’ve tried to bring my lips to yours.”

“And why not?”

“I’m not afraid anymore, but I’ve stopped myself because I don’t know if we should.”

“We should.”

“I love you. But right now, I don’t know if I’m allowed to say it.”

“You are,” Tom said, taking her by the hand.

“But I do, I really do love you,” she admitted. “Maybe we were only a mistake, and maybe it was stupid, but I want to be the best mistake you ever had.”

“You’re not a mistake,” Tom kissed her hand.

“And all this time, I’ve tried to come up with reasons as to why I shouldn’t love you, and many came but the sole reason that I want to love you won, and I just want to build a story, you know? Because you’ve already given me one, and I’ve learned so much, and now I can’t live without the little details you did. And these months apart only confirmed it, you’re the only one I want to be with.And you really don’t have to do anything, just let me love you, don’t push me away, I won’t run away this time, because really, that’s the only thing I desire, I want to love you, and I don’t want any more limits to pull us back.”

Tom didn’t give her an answer, he just leaned over and closed the gap between them. Because at that moment, there were really no limits of desire.

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stusbunker · 4 years

Text

What Lingers Within: Eight

A Supernatural Fan-fiction Mini Series

Featuring: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Written for: @thisismysecrethappyplace

Prompt: Amnesia

Word Count: 3925

Beta’d by the amazing @itmighthavebeenintentional

Aesthetic by @thoughtslikeaminefield

Divider by: @talesmaniac89

A/N: Set in season 11. Flashbacks are still in italics. Thanks for finishing this journey with me and all your patience! xoxo Stu

Series Masterlist

Dean woke up to an empty bed, which shouldn’t have been surprising, yet the realization that she wasn’t there beside him kept hitting him harder each day. She was asleep in the room next door; it was both reassuring and torturous having her so close, never close enough.

He stood outside her room and debated knocking. It was too early, he reminded himself. He let her sleep, like the day before and the whole week before that. Dean cursed Sam for giving her a room on his every path and headed to the kitchen for coffee. She shuffled in just after ten, looking blurry eyed and warm. Her hooded stare burned right through him as he handed her the mug that had already become hers.

“Got anything stronger?” she mumbled, trying to play tough. He didn’t buy it.

“You know, we’re not exactly on a strict schedule here. You could even go back to bed--- if you wanted.” Dean dipped his chin, gauging if he could keep prodding or step back.

“Sleep is dumb, and besides, my room is boring,” she pouted, cupping the mug in both hands.

“Thought Sammy had that laptop all set up for you?” Dean tried, brow knit in concern. She glanced up at him sheepishly, the heaviness inside reflected in her posture and the silent plea in her all-too-familiar eyes. Dean couldn’t help but soften as he continued, “Right, well, I was going to skip research today. If you’re up for it, we could do some target practice?”

Just as Dean had returned her small smile, Sam came in with a breathy, “Hey.”

Dean closed his eyes, unsuccessfully hiding from the disappointment before he turned to look at his brother. “Where’s the fire?”

“Sandusky, it’s--- probably her,” Sam’s voice was calm, but his eyes told Dean whatever it was, it was bad.

Dean nodded. “Okay, well, looks like I’m going to have to take a raincheck.” He faced her and saw all the unsaid things staring back at him. Tendrils frayed between them as he had to pull himself away again. “You gonna be okay by yourself? It’s gonna be a long drive, both ways.”

She rolled her eyes. “Are you kidding? I’m gonna be ransacking the place when you’re gone. How much do you think the Men of Letters shit will go for on Ebay?”

Dean shook his head, even though he felt Sam flinch behind him. “Yeah, well, don’t touch anything that isn’t labeled as safe, alright?”

“Go on, fight the good fight.” Her eyes sparkled with the forced casualness her wit always brought with it, letting them both off the hook.

Dean sat in the driver’s seat, squinting in the afternoon sunlight, watching the hospital entrance with growing trepidation. Cas walked out with Sam first, the blood along Sam’s collar the only remnant of his injury. They quietly slid into their respective seats. Dean mumbled a greeting, but continued to stare at the glass doors across the parking lot.

He ignored Sam’s sad puppy dog eyes and Cas’s perpetual confusion and waited, the keys grew sweaty in his hand against his thigh. She was discharged alongside Sam, though they played it off as a fender bender. Cas explained it all to her, as an off duty officer who happened to witness the ordeal and got them to the hospital in time.

Dean had little problem bludgeoning her car to back the story up.

Fourteen minutes after Sam and Cas made it to the impala, she wandered out of the revolving door and into the life Dean had left for her. His eyes trailed her up and down the rows until she found her crumpled sedan. She fought with the driver side door and he almost got out to help her, but she managed. He exhaled as she disappeared from sight.

His heart rotted inside his chest, arteries and veins strangled his lungs with the spreading poison. He sniffed and put the key in the ignition.

“Dean,” Sam started.

“Don’t. Don’t say her name.” Dean snapped. “You mention her ever again and I will break your fucking nose, I swear.”

Sam cocked his head and absorbed the rage in Dean’s words. He side-eyed Cas as they both agreed to those terms.

Her car creeped behind them as she navigated the overly complicated traffic pattern between the hospital buildings. He gave her three minutes before he eased out of their spot and back onto the road. The only proof of his life with her was shoved into his duffle and buried in the trunk. The proof that couldn’t be written on the back of his eyelids or settled in the bottom of his gut.

You stopped in the library for your laptop before settling at the kitchen table with a fresh cup of coffee. Your curiosity was piqued and a quick search brought up the horrors that had been unleashed in Ohio.

‘Four Dead, Seven Injured in Nursing Home Altercation’

You scrolled through the news story wondering how this spelled ancient dark being to Sam. In the weeks with the Winchesters, you had quickly learned what hunters looked for in order to sort out the regular awful and the freaky awful. It wasn’t until the last paragraph of the article that your blood ran cold.

The CNA that had called the cops said a woman in a black dress had been bent over the patient when she came to take the elderly man to the common room for lunch. But when she asked her if she was the patient’s granddaughter, the woman had disappeared. That patient went on to assault the others at lunch with his spork and his fists.

Naturally, the article questioned the eye witness’s credibility, but you knew better and so had Sam. You suddenly felt very scared for your hosts’ safety, despite their expertise.

You closed the computer as Dean’s face ran through your thoughts.

That night you did lunges down the web of hallways, muscles burning and face twisted in effort and bouts of laughter. It was ridiculous and if anyone had been home, you never would have dared, but it felt good to be silly and to use up the nervous energy that had been bubbling up inside since the guys had left.

It wasn’t that you couldn’t sleep, but rather that you slept fitfully. Katelyn’s voice snarled through your dreams, the feel of her spit on your hand mimicked by the sweat leaching from your body. You gave up after the second nightmare, texting Dean for an update in the middle of the night before you could think your way out of it.

Amara appeared to Dean fully grown, bathed in shadow. The hollows of her face were almost voids as she whispered in his nightmares. The nursing home was a tragedy they couldn’t stop, couldn’t fix. Amara was growing more powerful and there were plenty of souls in one place to feed from. Wherever she had been hiding, she didn’t wander out for long. It felt off.

She was the itch he couldn’t scratch in the back of his mind.

He didn’t want to keep chasing Amara, but the quicker she was off the board the better. It was a selfish desire, knowing he wasn’t fully himself since she had been released, but it aligned with the greater good, so he leaned into the hunt. The text he hadn’t replied to still stared back at him almost three days later.

There was no update to give and somehow he didn’t want to disappoint Y/N with a “no news” bullshit response.

The trail had dried up two days before Sam and Dean headed home, the unwillingness to quit wearing them both down to the edge of constant bickering. They stopped chasing their tails and settled on a couple of days to recoup before easing back into the usual hunts. Dean needed a win, but he couldn’t force Amara out of hiding, and even if he could, they had no way to end her anyway.

They got in close to eleven at night, creeping into the bunker so not to wake Y/N up. Sam showered first, and Dean sipped on a beer in the library before he decided to grab fresh pajamas and the shaving kit he kept in his attached half bath. But when he went into his room, he found a mound of blankets twisted in the middle of his bed, snoring lightly.

He felt suddenly self-conscious about the state he had left his room and tried to count back to when he had last changed his sheets. But that worry didn’t stop him from blushing with the rush of excitement seeing her in his bed once more gave him. He gently pulled the door closed, turning on the bathroom room light to let him grab his things.

She murmured something in her sleep and rolled over, causing Dean to freeze in panic. He was trained in the art of silence, but since she moved in, it felt like he had gained two left feet. Her breathing returned to a steady rhythm, letting him watch her from the wedge of light he stood in. Once his eyes readjusted he saw that she had brought in pillows from her room, but was only using his. He chuckled despite himself.

With a final glance at her sleeping silhouette, Dean left for that shower.

You were running through your office, rows of cubicles surrounded you like an endless forest. The click of heels on concrete followed you, despite the banal beige carpeting you were treading. Suddenly everything went dark and then you were looking down on yourself, hands around your own throat as you both inflicted and felt the pressure cutting off your air supply.

You woke up coughing uncontrollably, flailing in the dark against the non-existent double.

Your elbow hit something firm and you backed yourself into the corner of the nightstand, trying to escape.

“Hey, you okay?” Dean’s voice scratched through the dank confusion and you sat up, struggling to cover your chest and tummy with your bunched camisole.

“Dean? When’d you get home?” You coughed again, and swallowed thickly.

“A couple of hours ago.” Dean whispered, propped up on his elbow, he watched you. You slowly made out his features in the dark, pale skin a beacon, hooded eyes and wet lips. He was so beautiful and he was right there.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come in here without your permission, it was just so quiet and being here made me feel sa---,”

“It’s fine, I mean, you’re still a blanket hog, but I know you haven’t been sleeping,” Dean reassured, before he shifted the pillows so he was propped against the headboard. “So, nightmares, huh?”

His hands rested in his lap, pajama bottoms firmly above the comforter, practically chivalrous. Especially after you had helped yourself to his bed.

“Yeah, mostly,” you admitted, swallowing once more, the phantom pain had started to ebb with the conversation. “I should go, let you sleep, you had a long drive.”

“Hey, come here.” Dean cocked his head, beckoning you to him as he opened his arms. You hesitated. Then he tipped his chin, and you were a goner. Awkwardly you situated your body against his chest, his strong arms framed you just so. “That’s better, in’it?”

You sank into his warmth, refusing to be self-conscious about being half naked in your tank top and sleep shorts, and just relished in the firmness of his body and how it supported yours.

He breathed in your hair, his lips grazed your forehead, and you squeezed him tighter.

“I never wanted to be the bad guy. I don’t know what to do now, don’t know how to deal with this guilt,” you explained, staring at the slats on the bottom of the door.

Dean pulled back to look you in the eye. “You did what needed to be done. That bitch was going to kill you. There is nothing wrong with defending yourself.”

“I know. It’s just--- this--- being a fugitive is not where I ever thought I’d be,” you admitted, eyes closed in pained shame.

The moments ticked away, the weight of your words increasing as your breathing fell in sync with Dean’s. His thumb tapped a gentle rhythm against your side, as you rested your head on his shoulder. You were so close you weren’t sure if you were smelling or tasting him.

“Life on the run ain’t easy.” Dean shifted so your head fell over his heart. “But I do know you can’t lose yourself to guilt. Trust me, there are things that I have done that still keep me up at night. It doesn’t bring them back, it doesn’t undo anything. Except for maybe your sanity.”

He let out a sad three-beat-laugh.

“Just keep doing what’s right. Make the world better in your own little way and hope that someday you’ll find your own absolution,” Dean spoke as if he was a million miles away.

A moment before you thought better of it, you asked, “Have you found yours?”

Dean stiffened in your arms and then exhaled, his fingers threaded through your hair. Slowly he relaxed again, his chest and arms softening to the point of you forgetting which parts were him and which bits were you.

“Right now, it feels like I might,” Dean whispered in response to the question you almost forgot you had asked. You blushed beneath the implication, the warmth between you intensifying Dean’s natural magnetism. His honeyed voice and steadfast embrace was hypnotic amidst the exhausted chaos of your thoughts.

“Dean, I ---?”

Dean hummed in response before he shushed you. “It’s fine, just try and go back to sleep.”

You fell silent, the emotions rolling through you in waves of strung out anticipation and tempering doubt. In the end your mind stopped trying to stay afloat and let you sink into the depths of a ragged slumber.

Then one night, you slept. It wasn’t exactly refreshing, and it wasn’t perfect, but it was something. The fact that you had been crawling into Dean’s bed each night, may have helped.

Deep down, you felt the shift in your psyche: a glacial slide, the gradual progress of accepting what you had done which sprouted the fissuring magmic ooze that was hardening you into something new. Forged yet still fragmented, you bent to each sweltering degree as you navigated the impossible almost Dean and you had stumbled into.

Dean was in love with you.

You felt it first when he called you honey and invited you to breakfast all those weeks before. And you knew it the moment he shared your past in a handful of worn photographs. Unfortunately, you just didn’t know if he loved the you that you were becoming or the woman you had been. Your past self, which you didn’t even know.

Both possibilities were equally terrifying.

Winter slid into Kansas like a muddied dog, invasive and messy. Your usual and completely unscheduled call from Michelle told you that you were expected back for Christmas. No excuse, safe for an actual arrest, would suffice. You could almost taste your aunt’s green bean casserole already. You smiled to yourself, imagining Dean in an ugly sweater as Sam, oblivious, would knock his forehead on Michelle’s dubiously placed mistletoe.

Because, of course, they were invited too. Not that you would have gone without them at your side; they were as much your family now as Michelle and her parents had always been.

You hung up without promising your cousin anything except that you would stay safe. Though Dean and Sam were never in the bunker for long, you were fairly certain you could persuade them to take a few days off for a real, home-cooked, holiday meal. You just didn’t know if you would be bringing your roommates/ bodyguards or if you would be bringing whatever it was Dean had become and his brother.

That would require you to address the real problem. One far scarier than the temporal question of Dean’s affections.

You hadn’t let yourself fall for Dean. Not completely. You had been holding your breath, so oxygen deprived that you had developed tunnel vision. And no matter how patient or generous Dean had been, he couldn’t get you to acknowledge the silent, unanswered question in his eyes.

No amount of cuddles or lips brushed warmly over your forehead or strong arms that held you through the terror of your nightmares had emboldened you to fully reciprocate his affections. You remained simultaneously in his arms and proverbially a day’s drive east.

The problem was if you let yourself love him, you would be giving him permission to hurt you. Again.

You had time, you told yourself, before you would be introducing your aunt and uncle to the Winchesters. And you would drag your feet the entire two and a half weeks until then.

One week later

The half-truths had grown comfortable, expected, predictable. Dean and Sam would return from a case and Y/N would have food in a crock pot or beer and popcorn waiting for them to unwind before bed. She would duck out early, and then Sam. Dean would have another drink alone, telling himself he’d be brave enough to say something if she turned up at his door again.

He had too many misgivings about what she’d say. It wasn’t fair to make it about him when she’d get so riled up after the nightmares.

It was better to wait for the morning.

“Dean?” Her voice broke through his internal rationalizing, and he held his breath. She wasn’t upset, no tension nor tears. The look in her eyes felt like a punch to the gut.

“What’s up?”

She laughed dismissively, a short trill ending on disbelief. “You didn’t even hear me, did you?”

“Uh, no, not really. Come on in.” Dean stepped back, letting her in once again with his heart in his throat.

“We should talk,” she repeated.

“About?” Dean rested his hands on his hips, straightening himself as he watched her crawl into his desk chair and perch, heels along the edge, as she hugged her knees.

“Us?” She made it sound like he was slow. His eyebrows shot up; this was happening.

“Okayyyyyy,” Dean trailed off. She gave him nothing back. “What specifically do you want to talk about?”

“You’re in love with me.” She smiled that secret keeping half-smile.

He huffed in exasperation, but couldn’t help but smile back. “Really? You’re sure about that?”

“Mmm-hmm.” She nodded.

“So?”

“Sooooooo, it’s your turn.” She looked up at him, chin jutted out, challenging.

“My?” Dean stammered, hand curled at his own chest. “You’re saying--- that I need to---- I don’t know, diagnose your feelings?”

“Yup.”

She was going to be the death of him, that shit-eating grin already creeping up on her lips as she watched him huff and puff and try to pull himself together. He looked at her like a deer trapped in headlights, and she looked back; he felt like he was going to melt under the pressure.

“I mean---- I don’t---- What do you want me to say?!” Dean chuckled self-deprecatingly. He dropped to the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees as he started at the floor, but finished to her face. “Christ, I know what I want to say, but I can’t say it for you, Y/N. You have to mean it.”

“And what if I do?” Her feet fell to the floor as she leaned on her palms. She seemed somewhere between coming fully back to him and flying away for good.

Dean started to let the hope sneak in. “Well, I was kind of thinkin’ you would’ve shown me already.”

Time stopped.

She launched at him, and just as he caught her, a notch above the waist, her lips stole his breath. He gave it away willingly, until there was no more to spare.

Triumph. Relief. Yearning answered.

Dean’s arms curled around her body, clutching her to him as her momentum pushed their top halves onto the bed. It felt like a dream; Dean wouldn’t open his eyes ever again.

They tasted and teased each other, lips and tongues, whispers and snickers. She looked down at him like he hung the goddamned moon, and he prayed he’d never do anything again that would change that. He swallowed, not sure what to say next, unwilling to break that impossible moment.

It just got better.

She left a trail of punctuated kisses up his jaw and whispered in his ear. “I love you, too, you idiot.”

In a flash, Dean rolled you onto your back, sliding you fully onto the bed at last. He practically purred as he nuzzled your pulse point before leaving a sloppy kiss behind your ear. You shivered, bolts of electricity shot through your body, burning from the inside out.

“I--- just let me tonight,” Dean insisted, hands in your hair as he pleaded over your lips. “Please?”

“Be my guest.” You didn’t know where all that nerve had been buried, but it was reassuring to find your footing after so long.

He kissed you dizzy, stubble scraping and lips soothing. Slowly you were able to lay down your worries, alongside your clothing. With each brush of his mouth over your body you became lighter, leaving behind the fear and the uncertainty for something you’d never thought you’d get: trust and understanding.

True acceptance.

You fell into the moment, head first and determined, enjoying the knowledge he had retained of your body as he planted a firm palm over the thick roll of flesh above your mound, holding you in place before he dove in.

His tongue told you that you were wanted, his fingers showed you how you were cherished, revered. His lips were lingering reminders that he wasn’t leaving again, that you were just where you were meant to be, that he needed to show you all the things he couldn’t say out loud.

That you came first, always.

Bursting and brilliant, Dean saw to it, gentle yet persistent.

He never stopped touching you, aching to hold you as long as you’d let him. Maybe longer. He crawled his way back up your body, nuzzling your nose with his before you got your mouth back on him. You drank in his now tangy desperation.

You locked him in the cradle of your legs, telling him you were just as invested, a puzzle completed. Together you found your rhythm, your promises matched and measured. It was everything, and it was easy: no confusion or second guessing, just bliss. Dean’s moan broke on your name, and you felt it as if it had been the thousandth time, not your first.

It was you and Dean, forever as it had always been. These feelings had always existed, and they would never leave because not even the host of heaven had been able to snuff them out. They had lingered within you, and now that they were fulfilled, you knew you were going to make it in this uncertain life.

Because as scared as you were, you were certain of Dean. And he’d never stopped betting on your ability to keep fighting, to pull through all on your own.

His faith in you had seen you through the mess with Katelyn and years of unknown memories. Now you had nothing but time to regain what you’d lost, because lost things always have a way of finding their way home.

Series tags: @tiggytaylor @vicmc624 @kalesrebellion

General SPN tags: @flamencodiva @dolphincliffs @dontshootmespence @thoughtslikeaminefield @fangirlxwritesx67 @dawnie1988 @mrswhozeewhatsis @cosicas-cuquis @foxyjwls007 @tumbler-tidbits @defenderrosetyler @ericaprice2008 @princessofthefandomrealm @wingedcatninja

#supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #what lingers within #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester smut #dean winchester x reader #dean/reader #dean/you #dean x reader #amnesia fic

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izzisanauthor · 3 years

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Siren Song

A Prodigal Son fanfic by IzzIsAnAuthor (izzygrace07)

Based during episode 1x05 - "The Trip"

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

"Why is everyone moving in slow motion?"

Malcolm says it casually as if an altered passage of time is an everyday occurrence, and Gil's eyebrows furrow with concern. He should have known that Malcolm would go against orders and talk to Estime early. It shouldn't have even been a surprise when he found his two younger team members at the club he specifically told them not to go to; when a case gets personal, either will rarely stand down.

Gil takes a step closer to Malcolm, placing a protective hand on his shoulder and leaning in to speak. "You okay, Bright?"

He watches as Malcolm's eyes widen, a quick array of emotions crossing his face that range from terror to overwhelming happiness. His usually kempt hair is messily tossed, reminiscent of the bed head that Gil has grown a deep adoration for. He doesn't often get to see Malcolm this way. After all, Jessica would never let him leave his apartment looking anything less than the nines.

Malcolm's hand lands on Gil's shoulder with purpose, his grip strong and secure. His lip is quivering as he says, "When my dad was arrested…" He stops, seemingly to calm down his emotional state. He gulps before continuing. "You showed what a good man looks like. What a good man is."

The hand on Gil's shoulder lands gently on his cheek, cradling his face while Malcolm stares lovingly. It's intimate enough for Gil to falter his breathing, the air getting caught in his throat. Usually, these interactions are had behind closed doors and drawn blinds, hidden from the rest of the world. Nobody, not even their families, has any idea what kind of love the two men share, one that goes further than anyone would expect. If this had been any other time, Gil would remove Malcolm's hand and continue to reprimand him for disobeying direct orders. However, the dilation of Malcolm's pupils and the specks of white powder clinging to his suit tell him that doing so right now would have absolutely no merit.

Gil glances over to Dani and his eyebrows raise. "He's high as a kite."

Malcolm seems shocked by the accusation, but it fades into giddy instantly. A bright, beaming smile crosses Malcolm's face and the corners of his eyes crinkle as he laughs, "I'm higher than a kite!"

Gil lightly grasps Malcolm's wrist and pulls the hand off his cheek. The moment he does, the kid's eyes visibly line with tears and for a moment, Gil worries that he's about to break down. Luckily, Malcolm remedies that sadness by grabbing onto the sleeve of Gil's jacket with his free hand, an impish smile on his face.

"Come on, let's go home!" the consultant exclaims with newfound energy, tugging at the sleeve. "I feel like I could go thirty rounds!"

Gil blanches. His eyes immediately dart to Dani, who is watching them with worry. She opens her mouth to speak, lips stretched into an awkward smile of sorts, only to close it again. She doesn't have to say anything; the pity is clear as day on her face.

Gil clears his throat. "What happened?"

"Gunfire!" Malcolm articulates. "I got on the ground with Dani, it started to snow, and now, I feel like I could run a marathon!" He gasps, grabbing Gil's shoulders and leaning in close. In a half-whisper, as if he's had some kind of grand realization, he says, "I could be a top."

Gil pulls away from Malcolm, praying that his face keeps its usual colour. His worry for Malcolm overshadows most of his other thoughts and worries, but in the deep, selfish parts of himself, he wants to take Malcolm with this sudden energy he's gained. Not eating much and having little sleep results in poor stamina, so when the two decide to get intimate, they'll rarely go for very long. Now, however, seeing his boyfriend dripping with desire is enough to make his heart pound and his blood rush to areas he would prefer to keep under control in public. Gil chastises himself internally for feeling even remotely excited while Malcolm is in this state.

Dani lets out a sharp exhale. "Cocaine use can lead to poor judgment and increased sexuality. He probably doesn't realize that what he's saying is wrong."

Malcolm looks offended at the comment, turning to Dani with lowered eyebrows. "That's not nice, Dani. I can have sex with a man if I want to. Because…" He turns back to Gil and throws his arms around him, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. "Sex is amazing. And Gil is amazing!"

He raises his head and stares at Gil, expression changing into something more serious. He grabs both sides of Gil's head this time, forcing their gaze to stay locked on each other. In a voice as gentle as a lamb, Malcolm puts his entire heart into speaking.

"You're amazing."

They're two simple words, but the look in Malcolm's eyes amplifies the meaning. They hold so much affection and passion and pride, absolute love. Gil's restraint is being put to the test, a gruelling effort. It only becomes more difficult when Malcolm hugs him again, only this time, Gil is hyper-aware of the half-hardness pressing against his thigh.

He looks up to Dani and sighs, pushing down his dangerous thoughts and returning his focus to the more important situation. "We'll talk about this tomorrow," he says, ignoring the sweet nothings Malcolm mumbles into his ear. "You're not off the hook, Powell. I'm taking him home to make sure he comes down from his high."

Dani nods. "You've got it, Gil."

He turns his head towards the broken window, destroyed amidst the shooting. "Go help JT look for anything that could help us figure out who started the shooting. Message me with any leads."

"I'm on it." She is quick to head towards the scene, evidently remorseful for what happened to Malcolm, needing a way to atone.

Gil lets out a heavy breath, patting Malcolm on the back. "Okay, Bright. Come on, we're going home."

Malcolm pulls away quicker than lightning, his face lit up with childish joy. "Finally!" He smiles devilishly. "I have flavoured condoms."

"And we'll use them on a different day, once you've sobered up," Gil whispers, grabbing Malcolm's wrist and rushing him through the club. The night air is cool and crisp, a complete contrast to the warm, soiled air in the building. He helps Malcolm sit in the passenger seat before heading to the driver's side and starting his car.

~+~+~+~+~+~

When they arrive at Malcolm's apartment, the younger man practically marches through the door like he's on a mission, pulling his coat off with vigour. Gil, with a small sigh, closes the door as he follows him in.

"All right," Gil says, pulling off his jacket. He watches Malcolm discard his expensive article at the bottom of the staircase and gives a disapproving shake of his head. "The best thing you can do for the seven hours or so, just stay calm and drink lots of water."

Malcolm looks towards his living area and he perks up, inhaling with excitement as he takes off towards the coach. "Or!" He leaps up onto the back of his sofa, taking a moment to balance himself, and thrusts his hands out towards his collection of murder weapons. "We throw axes!"

Gil pauses, eyebrows shooting up as his eyes widen incredulously at Malcolm. "What?"

Malcolm turns to face Gil, pointing at him excitedly. "You and me. Broad bladed axes." He steps down onto the leather cushion of his couch, as if walking on a couch is a completely normal thing to do, and holds up a hand with his fingers splayed. "I have five!" He stops. "No, six… Doesn't matter, we have plenty."

Gil approaches the island and pours himself a glass of scotch. It's going to be a long night. "No," he says sternly.

He hears the sound of Malcolm shutting something and speaking, voice pitched and full of animation. "God, this feeling! My neurons are on fire!"

Gil takes a long sip from his drink, letting out a heavy exhale through his nose. For someone with poor self-care skills, sleeping and eating especially, Malcolm has a lot of energy. It's like the cocaine boosted the effects of his second wind. It reminds Gil of Dani years back when he would watch over her, drugged and falling. At the start, she was off the walls and full of childlike joy. But, as time passed and she became reliant on it, she was paranoid and terrified, either backing away from Gil with tears in her eyes or holding onto him like he was her saving grace. The memories only fuel his concerns for Malcolm after tonight; the thought of him in such a dark place, especially with the trauma he's experienced, makes Gil's chest tighten with anxiety.

When he looks up, Malcolm is heading his way on quick feet. He has that look in his eyes, the one from the club, the one that showed nothing but absolute love. "You know," Malcolm says, "people say that dopamine triggers pleasure. But really, it's about…"

He is suddenly in Gil's space, arms wrapped loosely around his neck and only an inch of space left between them. Gil doesn't want to encourage Malcolm's drug-induced lust, but still instinctively puts his hands on Malcolm's hips, pulling him closer.

"...Desire," Malcolm finally finishes. Gil's heart skips a beat at their proximity. The intent behind the word is obvious, and the sultry tone Malcolm entangles into his voice makes the temptation harder to resist. He's like a siren, singing out to Gil with his entire being. The song muddles his mind, clouding his judgment in fog and starving him, desperate for the taste of Malcolm.

Within seconds, Gil has Malcolm pushed up against the island and their lips are crashing together hard enough to leave bruises. It's passionate and messy and their hands wander across the familiar territory of each others' bodies. Gil runs his hand through Malcolm's hair and grips tightly, releasing a moan from the young man's mouth. It only increases volume when Gil bites down on Malcolm's lower lip, drawing it between his teeth. He grabs at his boyfriend's tie with impatience and practically rips it from his neck, moving to undo the waistcoat and the button-down shirt.

Gil lifts Malcolm onto the surface of the island and stands between his legs. The bare chest before Gil is free to be marked, previous love bites and hickeys having healed over the past few days. He takes Malcolm's skin into his mouth, sucking mercilessly along the collarbone. Malcolm props his hands upon the island behind him and throws his head back with a gasp. The noises he makes send blood rushing down Gil's body and strengthens the desire to hear more of those sexy sounds.

Gil licks his thumbs before dragging them along Malcolm's nipples, feeling the skin perk up underneath his touch. With a strong buck of the hips, the tip of Malcolm's restrained erection pokes Gil in his stomach.

Somehow, against all odds, that physical touch is enough to snap Gil back to himself, regaining his previous hyper-awareness to Malcolm's arousal; most importantly, to the cause of it. The events of the club make their way back to the front of Gil's brain and within moments, the two men are apart. Both are coated in sweat and panting like animals, and Malcolm's face is flushed a brilliant red.

"What's wrong?" he asks gently between breaths, sitting up and putting his hands worriedly on Gil's still-clothed arms.

Gil feels guilt flood his system and chastises himself. He let his wants overshadow his morality, so much so that he nearly had sex with his inebriated boyfriend. It would have been–it is sexual assault. Knowing Malcolm, he probably wouldn't be mad at Gil; the young man understands that he can be annoyingly persistent even when sober. However, that doesn't cut it because Gil would never be able to forgive himself for taking advantage of the best man he's ever come to know.

With laboured breaths, Gil finally says, "We can't do this, Bright."

Malcolm seems completely oblivious to the problem, furrowing his eyebrows with bewilderment. He pulls his hands away and Gil can see the self-consciousness making its way into Malcolm's head. "What happened? Did I do something?"

Gil sighs. He holds out his hand, helping Malcolm down from the counter. He then wraps his arms lovingly around him in a protective hug. "No, kid. You didn't do anything." He pulls away and takes Malcolm's head in his hands, forcing their eyes to lock. "But I can't have sex with you like this. You're not in your right mind."

"B-But…"

"Hey." Gil pushes some stray hair away from Malcolm's face. "If our situations were reversed, you'd say the same thing to me."

Malcolm appears to take a moment to think about that idea, blinking slowly like a machine that's processing information. For a split second, it makes Gil wonder if that was enough to get through to the kid or if his words were falling on deaf ears. Fear begins to creep into the back of his mind as he imagines Malcolm begging to continue, dripping with sex appeal, and Gil is too weak to turn him away. He's seen the pain Malcolm has been through, the betrayal he's been forced to endure. Gil can't become another one of the demons; he's supposed to be an angel.

He's brought back into the moment with a gentle kiss on the cheek. Arms wrap tightly around Gil's torso and Malcolm speaks to him with pure appreciation. "Aww, thank you!"

Gil's heart flutters with love and admiration. He brushes back Malcolm's bangs and plants a kiss on the kid's forehead. He wants to thank Malcolm for being so understanding, for recognizing just how heartbroken Gil would feel if they had made it further than they did. Gil wants to tell Malcolm that he is the most empathetic man Gil has ever met. He makes sadists have mercy, and for that, Gil loves Malcolm with every fibre of his being.

He says nothing, knowing that Malcolm wouldn't remember any of this. Instead, he returns the embrace and holds his boyfriend closer, thanking God for the favourable outcome to the situation.

#prodigal son #original post on archiveofourown #fanfic #fanfiction #my writing #broyo #potentially triggering #drug use #noncon for about 2 paragraphs

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supposedlyawitch · 4 years

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shadow work

i found a site that explains shadow work and i want to do some work with it and i’m willing to share the details the site has here. I’m putting this also here so i can look back on it. I already know my shadow is probably bigger and deeper than all the oceans combined. it might be interesting to explore, it might not, but it has to be done. This is basically free therapy.

Please note: Shadow Work exercises should not be undertaken if you struggle with low self-esteem. Exploring your demons will likely make you feel a million times worse about yourself and may spiral into self-hatred. Before doing Shadow Work, I strongly and emphatically encourage you to work on Self-Love. Shadow Work should only be undertaken by those who have healthy and stable self-worth, and a friendly relationship with themselves. See this article on how to love yourself for more guidance.

Why Focusing Only on the Light is a Form of Escapism

For most of my life, I’ve grown up firmly believing that the only thing worthy of guiding me was “light” and “love.” Whether through the family environment I was raised in, or the cultural myths I was brought up clinging to, I once believed that all you really needed to do in life to be happy was to focus on everything beautiful, positive and spiritually “righteous.” I’m sure you were raised believing a similar story as well. It’s a sort of “Recipe for Well-Being.”

But a few years ago, after battling ongoing mental health issues, I realized something shocking:

I was wrong.

Not just wrong, but completely and utterly off the mark. Focusing only on “love and light” will not heal your wounds on a deep level. In fact, I’ve learned through a lot of heavy inner work, that not only is focusing solely on “holiness” in life one side of the equation, but it is actually a form of spiritually bypassing your deeper, darker problems that, let me assure you, almost definitely exist.

It is very easy and comfortable to focus only on the light side of life. So many people in today’s world follow this path. And while it might provide some temporary emotional support, it doesn’t reach to the depths of your being: it doesn’t transform you at a core level. Instead, it leaves you superficially hanging onto warm and fuzzy platitudes which sound nice, but don’t enact any real change.

What DOES touch the very depths of your being, however, is exploring your Shadow.

What is the Human Shadow?

In short, the human shadow is our dark side; our lost and forgotten disowned self. Your shadow is the place within you that contains all of your secrets, repressed feelings, primitive impulses, and parts deemed “unacceptable,” shameful, “sinful” or even “evil.” This dark place lurking within your unconscious mind also contains suppressed and rejected emotions such as rage, jealousy, hatred, greed, deceitfulness, and selfishness.

So where did the Shadow Self idea originate? The concept was originally coined and explored by Swiss psychiatrist and psychoanalyst, Carl Jung. In Jung’s own words:

“Everyone carries a shadow, and the less it is embodied in the individual’s conscious life, the blacker and denser it is.”

When the human Shadow is shunned, it tends to undermine and sabotage our lives. Addictions, low self-esteem, mental illness, chronic illnesses, and various neuroses are all attributed to the Shadow Self. When our Shadows are suppressed or repressed in the unconscious long enough, they can even overtake our entire lives and causes psychosis or extreme forms of behavior like cheating on one’s partner or physically harming others. Intoxicants such as alcohol and drugs also have a tendency to unleash the Shadow.

Thankfully, there is a way to explore the Shadow and prevent it from devouring our existence, and that is called Shadow Work.

What is Shadow Work?

Shadow work is the process of exploring your inner darkness or “Shadow Self.” As mentioned previously, your Shadow Self is part of your unconscious mind and contains everything you feel ashamed of thinking and feeling, as well as every impulse, repressed idea, desire, fear and perversion that for one reason or another, you have “locked away” consciously or unconsciously. Often this is done as a way of keeping yourself tame, likable and “civilized” in the eyes of others.

Shadow work is the attempt to uncover everything that we have hidden and every part of us that has been disowned and rejected within our Shadow Selves. Why? Because without revealing to ourselves what we have hidden, we remain burdened with problems such as anger, guilt, shame, disgust, and grief.

All throughout the history of mankind Shadow Work has played a powerful yet mysterious and occult role in helping us discover what is causing us mental illness, physical dis-ease and even insanity resulting in crimes of all kinds.

Traditionally, Shadow Work fell in the realm of the Shamans, or medicine people, as well as the priests and priestesses of the archaic periods of history. These days, Shadow Work falls more commonly in the realms of psychotherapy, with psychologists, psychiatrists, spiritual guides, and therapists.

Do We All Have a Shadow Self?

Yes, we ALL have a Shadow Self (see our Collective Shadow article for a deeper explanation).

As uncomfortable as it may sound, there is a dark side within every human being. Why is this the case? The reason why all human beings have a shadow is due to the way we were raised as human beings, often referred to as our ‘conditioning.’ (We’ll explore how the Shadow is formed next.)

“But I’m a good person! I don’t have a ‘shadow’ side,” you might be thinking. Well, the reality is that yes, you might be a good person. In fact, you might be the most generous, loving, and selfless person in the entire world. You might feed the hungry, save puppies, and donate half of your salary to the poor. But that doesn’t exclude you from having a Shadow. There are no exceptions here. The nature of being human is to possess both a light and a dark side, and we need to embrace that.

Sometimes, when people hear that they have a Shadow side (or when it is pointed out), there is a lot of denial. We have been taught to perceive ourselves in a very two-dimensional and limited way. We have been taught that only criminals, murderers, and thieves have a Shadow side. This black and white thinking is one of the major causes of our suffering.

If the thought of having a Shadow side disturbs you, take a moment to consider whether you have developed an idealized self. Signs of an idealized self include attitudes such as:

“I’m not like those people, I’m better.”

“I have never strayed.”

“God is proud of me.”

“Criminals and wrongdoers aren’t human.”

“Everyone sees how good I am (even so, I have to remind them).”

“I’m a role model.”

“I should be validated and applauded for my good deeds.”

“I don’t have bad thoughts, so why do others?”

Such perceptions about oneself are unrealistic, unhealthy, and largely delusional. The only way to find inner peace, happiness, authentic love, self-fulfillment, and Illumination is to explore our Shadows.

How is Our Shadow Side Formed?

Your Shadow side is formed in childhood and is both (a) a product of natural ego development, and (b) a product of conditioning or socialization. Socialization is the process of learning to behave in a way that is acceptable to society.

When we are born, we are are all full of potential, with the ability to survive and develop in a variety of ways. As time goes on, we learn more and more to become a certain type of person. Slowly, due to our circumstances and preferences, we begin to adopt certain character traits and reject others. For example, if we are born into a family that shows little interpersonal warmth, we will develop personality traits that make us self-sufficient and perhaps standoffish or mind-oriented. If we are born into a family that rewards compliance and shuns rebellion, we will learn that being submissive works, and thus adopt that as part of our ego structure.

As authors and Jungian therapists Steve Price and David Haynes write:

But, as we develop our ego personality, we also do something else at the same time. What has happened to all those parts of our original potential that we didn’t develop? They won’t just cease to exist: they will still be there, as potential or as partly developed, then rejected, personality attributes, and they will live on in the unconscious as an alternative to the waking ego. So, by the very act of creating a specifically delineated ego personality, we have also created its opposite in the unconscious. This is the shadow. Everyone has one.

As we can see, developing the Shadow Self is a natural part of development.

But you also formed an alter ego due to social conditioning, i.e. your parents, family members, teachers, friends, and society at large all contributed to your Shadow.

How?

Well here’s the thing: polite society operates under certain rules. In other words, certain behaviors and characteristics are approved of, while others are shunned. Take anger for example. Anger is an emotion that is commonly punished while growing up. Throwing tantrums, swearing, and destroying things was frowned upon by our parents and teachers. Therefore, many of us learned that expressing anger was not “OK.” Instead of being taught healthy ways to express our anger, we were punished sometimes physically (with smacks or being grounded), and often emotionally (withdrawal of love and affection).

There are countless behaviors, emotions, and beliefs that are rejected in society, and thus, are rejected by ourselves. In order to fit in, be accepted, approved, and loved, we learned to act a certain way. We adopted a role that would ensure our mental, emotional, and physical survival. But at the same time, wearing a mask has consequences. What happened to all the authentic, wild, socially taboo or challenging parts of ourselves? They were trapped in the Shadow.

What happens as we grow up?

Through time, we learn to both enjoy, and despise, our socially-approved egos because, on the one hand, they make us feel good and “lovable,” but on the other hand, they feel phony and inhibited.

Therapist Steve Wolf has a perfect analogy that describes this process:

Each of us is like Dorian Grey. We seek to present a beautiful, innocent face to the world; a kind, courteous demeanour; a youthful, intelligent image. And so, unknowingly but inevitably, we push away those qualities that do not fit the image, that do not enhance our self-esteem and make us stand proud but, instead, bring us shame and make us feel small. We shove into the dark cavern of the unconscious those feelings that make us uneasy — hatred, rage, jealousy, greed, competition, lust, shame — and those behaviours that are deemed wrong by the culture — addiction, laziness, aggression, dependency — thereby creating what could be called shadow content. Like Dorian’s painting, these qualities ultimately take on a life of their own, forming and invisible twin that lives just behind our life, or just beside it …

But while the Shadow Self may be portrayed as our “evil twin,” it is not entirely full of “bad” stuff. There is actually gold to be found within the Shadow.

What is the Golden Shadow?

Jung once states that “the shadow is ninety percent pure gold.” What this means is that there are many beautiful gifts offered to us by our Shadow side if we take the time to look. For example, so much of our creative potential is submerged within our darkness because we were taught when little to reject it.

Not everything within our Shadow is doom and gloom. In fact, the Shadow contains some of our most powerful gifts and talents, such as our artistic, sexual, competitive, innovative, and even intuitive aptitudes.

The ‘Golden Shadow’ also presents us with the opportunity for tremendous psychological and spiritual growth. By doing Shadow Work, we learn that every single emotion and wound that we possess has a gift to share with us. Even the most obnoxious, “ugly,” or shameful parts of ourselves provide a path back to Oneness. Such is the power of the Shadow – it is both a terrifying journey, but is ultimately a path to Enlightenment or Illumination. Every spiritual path needs Shadow Work in order to prevent the issues from happening that we’ll explore next.

What Happens When You Reject Your Shadow?

When shadow-work is neglected, the soul feels dry, brittle, like an empty vessel. — S. Wolf

Rejecting, suppressing, denying, or disowning your Shadow, whether consciously or unconsciously, is a dangerous thing. The thing about the Shadow Self is that it seeks to be known. It yearns to be understood, explored, and integrated. It craves to be held in awareness. The longer the Shadow stays buried and locked in its jail cell deep within the unconscious, the more it will find opportunities to make you aware of its existence.

Both religion and modern spirituality have a tendency to focus on the “love and light” aspects of spiritual growth to their own doom. This over-emphasis on the fluffy, transcendental, and feel-good elements of a spiritual awakening results in shallowness and phobia of whatever is too real, earthy, or dark.

Spiritually bypassing one’s inner darkness results in a whole range of serious issues. Some of the most common and reoccurring Shadow issues that appear in the spiritual/religious community include pedophilia among priests, financial manipulation of followers among gurus, and of course, megalomania, narcissism, and God complexes among spiritual teachers.

Other issues that arise when we reject our Shadow side can include:

Hypocrisy (believing and supporting one thing, but doing the other)

Lies and self-deceit (both towards oneself and others)

Uncontrollable bursts of rage/anger

Emotional and mental manipulation of others

Greed and addictions

Phobias and obsessive compulsions

Racist, sexist, homophobic, and other offensive behavior

Intense anxiety

Chronic psychosomatic illness

Depression (which can turn into suicidal tendencies)

Sexual perversion

Narcissistically inflated ego

Chaotic relationships with others

Self-loathing

Self-absorption

Self-sabotage

… and many others. This is by no means a comprehensive list (and there are likely many other issues out there). As we’ll learn next, one of the greatest ways we reject our Shadows is through psychological projection.

The Shadow and Projection (a Dangerous Mix)

One of the biggest forms of Shadow rejection is something called projection. Projection is a term that refers to seeing things in others that are actually within ourselves.

When we pair projection and the Shadow Self together, we have a dangerous mix.

Why?

Because as psychotherapist Robert A. Johnson writes:

We generally seek to punish that which reminds us most uncomfortable about the part of ourselves that we have not come to terms with, and we often ‘see’ these disowned qualities in the world around us.

There are many different ways we ‘punish’ those who are mirrors of our Shadow qualities. We may criticize, reject, hate, dehumanize, or even in extreme cases, physically or psychologically seek to destroy them (think of countries who go at war with the “enemies”). None of us are innocent in this area. We have ALL projected parts of our rejected self onto others. In fact, Shadow projection is a major cause of relationship dysfunction and break down.

If we are seeking to bring peace, love, and meaning to our lives, we absolutely MUST reclaim these projections. Through Shadow Work, we can explore exactly what we have disowned.

Twelve Benefits of Shadow Work

Firstly, I want to say that I have the highest respect for Shadow Work. It is the single most important path I’ve taken to uncover my core wounds, core beliefs, traumas, and projections. I have also observed how Shadow Work has helped to create profound clarity, understanding, harmony, acceptance, release, and inner peace in the lives of others. It is truly deep work that makes changes on the Soul level targeting the very roots of our issues, not just the superficial symptoms.

There is SO much to be gained from making Shadow Work a part of your life, and daily routine. Here are some of the most commonly experienced benefits:

Deeper love and acceptance of yourself

Better relationships with others, including your partner and children

More confidence to be your authentic self

More mental, emotional, and spiritual clarity

Increased compassion and understanding for others, particularly those you dislike

Enhanced creativity

Discovery of hidden gifts and talents

Deepened understanding of your passions and ultimate life purpose

Improved physical and mental health

More courage to face the unknown and truly live life

Access to your Soul or Higher Self

A feeling of Wholeness

It’s important to remember that there are no quick fixes in Shadow Work, so these life-changing benefits don’t just happen overnight. But with persistence, they will eventually emerge and bless your life.

Seven Tips For Approaching Shadow Work

Before you begin Shadow Work, it’s important for you to assess whether you’re ready to embark on this journey. Not everyone is prepared for this deep work, and that’s fine. We’re all at different stages. So pay attention to the following questions and try to answer them honestly:

Have you practiced self-love yet? If not, Shadow Work will be too overwhelming for you. I have starred this bullet point because it is essential for you to consider. Shadow Work should not be attempted by those who have poor self-worth or struggle with self-loathing. In other words: if you struggle with severely low self-esteem, please do not attempt Shadow Work. I emphatically warn you against doing it. Why? If you struggle with extremely poor self-worth, exploring your Shadows will likely make you feel ten times worse about yourself. Before you walk this path, you absolutely must establish a strong and healthy self-image. No, you don’t have to think you’re God’s gift to the world, but having average self-worth is important. Try taking this self-esteem test to explore whether you’re ready (but first, don’t forget to finish this article!).

Are you prepared to make time? Shadow Work is not a lukewarm practice. You are either all in or all out. Yes, it is important to take a break from it time to time. But Shadow Work requires dedication, self-discipline, and persistence. Are you willing to intentionally carve out time each day to dedicate to it? Even just ten minutes a day is a good start.

Are you looking to be validated or to find the truth? As you probably know by now, Shadow Work isn’t about making you feel special. It isn’t like typical spiritual paths which are focused on the feel-good. No, Shadow Work can be brutal and extremely confronting. This is a path for truth seekers, not those who are seeking to be validated.

Seek to enter a calm and neutral space. It is important to try and relax when doing Shadow Work. Stress and judgmental or critical attitudes will inhibit the process. So please try to incorporate a calming meditation or mindfulness technique into whatever you do.

Understand that you are not your thoughts. It is essential for you to realize that you are not your thoughts for Shadow Work to be healing and liberating. Only from your calm and quiet Center (also known as your Soul) can you truly be aware of your Shadow aspects. By holding them in awareness, you will see them clearly for what they are, and realize that they ultimately don’t define you; they are simply rising and falling mental phenomena.

Practice self-compassion. It is of paramount importance to incorporate compassion and self-acceptance into your Shadow Work practice. Without showing love and understanding to yourself, it is easy for Shadow Work to backfire and make you feel terrible. So focus on generating self-love and compassion, and you will be able to release any shame and embrace your humanity.

Record everything you find. Keep a written journal or personal diary in which you write down, or draw, your discoveries. Recording your dreams, observations, and analysis will help you to learn and grow more effectively. You’ll also be able to keep track of your process and make important connections.

How to Practice Shadow Work

There are many Shadow Work techniques and exercises out there. In this guide, I will provide a few to help you start off. I’ll also share a few examples from my own life:

1. Pay attention to your emotional reactions

In this practice, you’ll learn that what you give power to has power over you. Let me explain:

One Shadow Work practice I enjoy a great deal is paying attention to everything that shocks, disturbs and secretly thrills me. Essentially, this practice is about finding out what I’ve given power to in my life unconsciously, because what we place importance in – whether good or bad – says a lot about us.

The reality is that what we react to, or what makes us angry and distressed, reveals extremely important information to us about ourselves.

For example, by following where my “demons” have taken me – whether in social media, family circles, workspaces and public places – I have discovered two important things about myself. The first one is that I’m a control freak; I hate feeling vulnerable, powerless and weak . . . it quite simply scares the living hell out of me. How did I discover this? Through my intense dislike of witnessing rape scenes in movies and TV shows, my negative reaction to novel experiences (e.g. roller coaster rides, public speaking, etc.), as well as my discomfort surrounding sharing information about my life with others in conversations. Also, by following where my “demons” have guided me I’ve discovered that I’m being burdened by an exasperating guilt complex that I developed through my religious upbringing. A part of me wants to feel unworthy because that is what I’ve developed a habit of feeling since childhood (e.g. “You’re a sinner,” “It’s your fault Jesus was crucified”), and therefore, that is what I secretly feel comfortable with feeling: unworthy. So my mind nit-picks anything I might have done “wrong,” and I’m left with the feeling of being “bad” – which I’m used to, but nevertheless, this is destructive for my well-being.

Thanks to this practice, I have welcomed more compassion, mindfulness, and forgiveness into my life.

Paying attention to your emotional reactions can help you to discover exactly how your core wounds are affecting you on a daily basis.

How to Pay Attention to Your Emotional Reactions

To effectively pay attention to your emotional reactions (I call it “following the trail of your inner demons”), you first need to cultivate:

1. Self-awareness

Without being conscious of what you’re doing, thinking, feeling and saying, you won’t progress very far.

If, however, you are fairly certain that you’re self-aware (or enough to start the process), you will then need to:

2. Adopt an open mindset

You will need to have the courage and willingness to observe EVERYTHING uncomfortable you place importance in, and ask “why?” What do I mean by the phrase “placing importance in”? By this, I mean that, whatever riles, shocks, infuriates, disturbs and terrifies you, you must pay attention to. Closely.

Likely, you will discover patterns constantly emerging in your life. For example, you might be outraged or embarrassed every time sex appears in a TV show or movie you like (possibly revealing sexual repression or mistaken beliefs about sex that you’ve adopted throughout life). Or you might be terrified of seeing death or dead people (possibly revealing your resistance to the nature of life or a childhood trauma). Or you might be disgusted by alternative political, sexual and spiritual lifestyles (possibly revealing your hidden desire to do the same).

There are so many possibilities out there, and I encourage you to go slowly, take your time, and one by one pick through what you place importance in.

“But I DON’T place importance in gross, bad or disturbing things in life, how could I? I don’t care for them!” you might be asking.

Well, think for a moment. If you didn’t place so much importance on what makes you angry, disgusted or upset . . . why would you be reacting to it so much? The moment you emotionally react to something is the moment you have given that thing power over you. Only that which doesn’t stir up emotions in us is not important to us.

See what you respond to and listen to what your Shadow is trying to teach you.

2. Artistically Express Your Shadow Self

Art is the highest form of self-expression and is also a great way to allow your Shadow to manifest itself. Psychologists often use art therapy as a way to help patients explore their inner selves.

Start by allowing yourself to feel (or drawing on any existing) dark emotions. Choose an art medium that calls to you such as pen and pencil, watercolor, crayon, acrylic paint, scrapbooking, sculpting, etc. and draw what you feel. You don’t need to consider yourself an ‘artist’ to benefit from this activity. You don’t even need to plan what you’ll create. Just let your hands, pen, pencil, or paintbrush do the talking. The more spontaneous, the better. Artistic expression can reveal a lot about your obscure darker half. Psychologist Carl Jung (who conceptualized the Shadow Self idea) was even famous for using mandalas in his therapy sessions.

3. Start a Project

The act of creation can be intensely frustrating and can give birth to some of your darker elements such as impatience, anger, blood-thirsty competitiveness, and self-doubt. At the same time, starting a project also allows you to experience feelings of fulfillment and joy.

If you don’t already have a personal project that you’re undertaking (such as building something, writing a book, composing music, mastering a new skill), find something you would love to start doing. Using self-awareness and self-exploration during the process of creation, you will be able to reap deeper insights into your darkness. Ask yourself constantly, “What am I feeling and why?” Notice the strong emotions that arise during the act of creation, both good and bad. You will likely be surprised by what you find!

For example, as a person who considers myself non-competitive, that assumption has been challenged by the act of writing this blog. Thanks to this project, the Shadow within me of ruthless competitiveness has shown its face, allowing me to understand myself more deeply.

4. Write a Story or Keep a Shadow Journal

Goethe’s story Faust is, in my opinion, one of the best works featuring the meeting of an ego and his Shadow Self. His story details the life of a Professor who becomes so separated and overwhelmed by his Shadow that he comes to the verge of suicide, only to realize that the redemption of the ego is solely possible if the Shadow is redeemed at the same time.

Write a story where you project your Shadow elements onto the characters – this is a great way to learn more about your inner darkness. If stories aren’t your thing, keeping a journal or diary every day can shine a light on the darker elements of your nature. Reading through your dark thoughts and emotions can help you to recover the balance you need in life by accepting both light and dark emotions within you.

5. Explore Your Shadow Archetypes

We have a number of Shadow varieties, also called Shadow Archetypes. These archetypes are sometimes defined as:

The Sorcerer

The Dictator

The Victim

The Shadow Witch

The Addict

The Idiot

The Trickster

The Destroyer

The Slave

The Shadow Mother

The Hag

The Hermit

However, I have my own Shadow Archetype classification, which I will include below.

13 Shadow Archetypes

Here are my thirteen classifications which are based on my own self-observations and analysis of others:

1. The Egotistical Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: arrogance, egocentricity, pompousness, inconsiderateness, self-indulgence, narcissism, excessive pride.

2. The Neurotic Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: paranoia, obsessiveness, suspiciousness, finicky, demanding, compulsive behavior.

3. The Untrustworthy Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: secretive, impulsive, frivolous, irresponsible, deceitful, unreliable.

4. The Emotionally Unstable Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: moody, melodramatic, weepy, overemotional, impulsive, changeable.

5. The Controlling Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: suspicious, jealous, possessive, bossy, obsessive.

6. The Cynical Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: negative, overcritical, patronizing, resentful, cantankerous.

7. The Wrathful Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: ruthless, vengeful, bitchy, quick-tempered, quarrelsome.

8. The Rigid Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: uptight, intolerant, racist, sexist, ableist, homophobic, obstinate, uncompromising, inflexible, narrow-minded.

9. The Glib Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: superficial, cunning, inconsistent, sly, crafty.

10. The Cold Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: emotionally detached, distant, indifferent, uncaring, unexcited.

11. The Perverted Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: masochistic, lewd, sadistic, vulgar, libidinous.

12. The Cowardly Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: weak-willed, passive, timid, fearful.

13. The Immature Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: puerile, childish, illogical, simpleminded, vacuous.

Keep in mind that the above Shadow Archetypes are by no means exhaustive. I’m sure that there are many others out there which I have missed. But you are free to use this breakdown to help you explore your own Shadows. You’re also welcome to add to this list or create your own Shadow Archetypes, which I highly encourage. For example, you might possess a judgmental and dogmatic Shadow who you call “The Nun,” or a sexually deviant Shadow who you call “The Deviant.” Play around with some words and labels, and see what suits your Shadows the best.

6. Have an Inner Conversation

Also known as “Inner Dialogue,” or as Carl Jung phrased it, “Active Imagination,” having a conversation with your Shadow is an easy way to learn from it.

I understand if you might feel a twinge of skepticism towards this practice right now. After all, we are taught that “only crazy people talk to themselves.” But inner dialogue is regularly used in psychotherapy as a way to help people communicate with the various subpersonalities that they have – and we all possess various faces and sides of our ego.

One easy way to practice inner dialogue is to sit in a quiet place, close your eyes, and tune into the present moment. Then, think of a question you would like to ask your Shadow, and silently speak it within your mind. Wait a few moments and see if you ‘hear’ or ‘see’ an answer. Record anything that arises and reflect on it. It is even possible to carry on a conversation with your Shadow using this method. Just ensure that you have an open mindset. In other words, don’t try to control what is being said, just let it flow naturally. You will likely be surprised by the answers you receive!

Visualization is another helpful way of engaging in inner dialogue. I recommend bringing to mind images of dark forests, caves, holes in the ground, or the ocean as these all represent the unconscious mind. Always ensure that you enter and exit your visualization in the same manner, e.g. if you are walking down a path, make sure you walk back up the path. Or if you open a particular door, make sure you open the same door when returning back to normal consciousness. This practice will help to draw you effortlessly in and out of visualizations.

7. Use the Mirror Technique

As we have learned, projection is a technique of the Shadow that helps us to avoid what we have disowned. However, we don’t only project the deeper and darker aspects of ourselves onto others, we also project our light and positive attributes as well. For example, a person may be attracted to another who displays fierce self-assertiveness, not realizing that this quality is what they long to reunite with inside themselves. Another common example (this time negative) is judgmentalism. How many times have you heard someone say “he/she is so judgmental!” Ironically, the very person saying this doesn’t realize that calling another person ‘judgmental’ is actually pronouncing a judgment against them and revealing their own judgmental nature.

The Mirror Technique is the process of uncovering our projections. To practice this technique, we must adopt a mindful and honest approach towards the world: we need to be prepared to own that which we have disowned! Being radically truthful with ourselves can be difficult, so it does require practice. But essentially, we must adopt the mindset that other people are our mirrors. We must understand that those around us serve as the perfect canvas onto which we project all of our unconscious desires and fears.

Start this practice by examining your thoughts and feelings about those you come in contact with. Pay attention to moments when you’re emotionally triggered and ask yourself “am I projecting anything?” Remember: it is also possible to project our own qualities onto another person who really does possess the qualities. Psychologists sometimes refer to this as “projecting onto reality.” For example, we might project our rage onto another person who is, in fact, a rage-filled person. Or we might project our jealousy onto another who genuinely is jealous.

Ask yourself, “What is mine, what is theirs, and what is both of ours?” Not every triggering situation reveals a projection, but they more than often do. Also look for things you love and adore about others, and uncover the hidden projections there.

The Mirror Technique will help you to shed a lot of light onto Shadow qualities that you have rejected, suppressed, repressed, or disowned. On a side note, you might also like to read about a similar practice called mirror work which helps you to come face-to-face with your own denied aspects.

#shadow work #witchcraft #mental health #secular witch #therapy

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ksl57 · 5 years

Text

The roots of marriage.

“People like to be around people who are happy."

For months, I had been experiencing periods of intense sadness. Changes in my environment had surrounded me with people who I began compulsively comparing myself to – people who were smarter, funnier, more sociable, more thoughtful, more confident, more knowledgeable about the world than I was. It was regularly triggering flashbacks of my failures in life, pushing me deeper and deeper into a despair until thoughts of my worthlessness became my obsession. During these episodes, I stare into space, stone-cold expression, puffy panda eyes balancing precariously on the verge of tears. My responses to people are in as few words as I could possibly make it. Someone told me I looked "REALLY tired.”

With these episodes happening with the frequency they did, I couldn't escape the interrogation of my husband. He would ask me what's wrong, and I would go many minutes without a response. The silences, he told me later, were agonizing. He would conjure a thousand questions in his head, vexingly unanswered, wondering if he should walk away and allow me to muster in my own anger and depression. I wanted anything but - thought after thought after thought after thought swimming around in my head, fighting to make their way to my lips, knowing I need this release, and wanting to relieve my husband of his visible frustration with talking to a piece of dead plank, but not knowing the best words with which to do so. I was deeply ashamed of my thoughts and could not get myself to face them.

And so, on this went. One month goes by. Two. Half a year. Hence, his reply to me when we were being silly at home. "You are so fun to be around when you're happy.”

“Yeah?” I say, laughing.

“Yeah. People like to be around happy people."

People like to be around happy people. The reality of it hit me like a poison dart.

His words were true. Lately I had been so consumed with my feelings of depression and social anxiety that people did not want to be around me, so it seemed. Like the character Sadness in Disney Pixar's Inside Out, everything and everyone I touched turn blue.

One recent weekend, I was put into a situation that reopened my wounds. The introvert among the sea of extroverts. The lone awkward turtle overshadowed by the looming social butterflies. I perseverated on my self-deprecating thoughts, fabricating implicit messages coming from "Joys" cautiously tiptoeing around me that asked me to feign happiness or else stay confined in my little circle of Sadness, and a torrential downpour of sad memories came flooding in. After so many insults to my soul, something eventually has to give.

In my darkest hour, He prays...

It was at this hour, one among the following 24 hours of obsessively ruminating over the day’s events, that I was reminded – Jesus was a Man of sorrows.

He grew up in a nowhere town, Nazareth, and became a carpenter – like a farmer kid born and raised in some rural state in the West, who went to some no-name college and picked up an unglorifying job. When he did awesome deeds, he wouldn't stay in the crowds but would retreat to the mountains. He had a tiny group of disciples, one who betrayed Him. He was mocked, spat on. He feared for His life, asking the Father to take this cup away from Him. People thought He was arrogant and a liar, but He never justified Himself. He was tortured for crimes he did not commit. He wept.

"Crying helps me slow down and obsess over the weight of life's problems." -Sadness

Jesus had a lot of life's problems to obsess over.

In an article on introversion, extroversion, and shyness, Jessie Sun, a researcher of personality at UC-Davis, states, “Personality is consistently one of the strongest predictors of happiness and extroversion has especially strong relationships with wellbeing. …People who are extroverted tend to experience more feelings of excitement, enthusiasm and joy, whereas people who are introverted tend to experience those feelings less often.” In other words, extroverts are more likely than introverts to have healthy mental well-being and are more likely to succeed in life in the US.

I bet Jesus was an introvert. It was clear He wasn't favored by society, nor did He succeed in it. Jesus was sad, and frequently too. This human life of Jesus is what makes Him so real. This is what makes him able to be touched by the feelings of our weaknesses. Yes, sadness can be incredibly painful, but it is in the deepest trenches of our loneliness, the quiet echoes of seclusion, the darkest hours in which we retreat to the secret places in our soul and our spirit, that God appears. Our God is a God who hides Himself, and He reveals His heart's deepest desires to those who meet Him here alone. Without sadness, when would we seek the secret places? Without sadness, who would my God be to me today? Deep calls unto deep. Only a call from the depths can provoke a response from the depths.

...

I have been shadowing a psychiatrist at an intensive outpatient clinic, which offers high level of care to adolescents too sick to meet with a psychiatrist on an outpatient basis, yet not sick enough to require hospitalization. I was sitting in on a therapy group where the topic was mindfulness.

"Can someone tell me what mindfulness is?" The therapist asks.

"Mindfulness is where you stay in the present. Like, you don't keep thinking about what happened in the past or keep worrying about what's gonna be in the future. It's like, you only focus on the present and what's happening now."

"And you also have to be non-judgmental."

"Excellent. That's the most important key. You have all these intrusive thoughts coming into your head, and the most important thing is to not judge them. These thoughts come and go, and everyone has them. But they are just thoughts. We don't think if they are good or bad. They just are. The more we judge them, the more power we give to them."

In these long deadly silences during my episodes of sadness, when my husband and I are attempting this seemingly near futile effort to communicate, I finally stop judging my thoughts and detach my identity from them for long enough to utter the dark words of my mind. These are thoughts that expose how selfish I am, how jealous, how arrogant, how hateful, how afraid. For these precious seconds that I open my mouth to release, they are just thoughts. Not good or bad, they just are.

My husband, going through his own experiences of transformation, is emptied, open, ready to receive. And in these moments of release, with the covering of our love for one another headed up in Christ, healing weaves its way through my tormented soul, causing the roots of our marriage to sink a little deeper into the ground, unseen. Then when the rain descends, and the rivers come, and the winds blow, it does not fall.

#sadness #depression #man of sorrows

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vfdlibrarian · 6 years

Note

❛ you demonstrated courage and goodness. ❜ from mr. lemony

Courage and goodness - aspects of a world that was safe, secure, and smart - were something Dewey always strove for. It was his view that if he could not hold to his own convictions about the world, then the world had no reason to follow the same design.

Courage, always.

Dewey squinted against the fading light wavering over the sea. “It’s strange, you know, Lemony,” he said. “We together may have saved those articles. But we have not done anything but made a drop in an infinite ocean of action and reaction, bad and good and unknown, and all waiting to be uncovered.”

And there were some who would have said he had done a cowardly and selfish thing. His own brother would see it that way. To Ernest, the handiwork of VFD ought to be burnt and left to decay in rain and wind. It all reminded Dewey very much of a story he heard as a child about two men who were faced with an object - one side was black, the other white, and from each perspective the same object looked very different, and correctly so.

“Sometimes I wonder why we do these things. But I think you’re right. A world without knowledge is not one that I care to live in. And like my brother likes to say - “life without meaning is the torture of restlessness and vague desire.”

#kindeditor #;;ic #//holy cow I wrote a thing for reals!

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myuntoldstory · 6 years

Text

Mystic Messenger | Sleeping Underneath Perseids

AO3 | FF.net

Half Awake, Fully In Love | To Rest Deservedly | Ikelos’ Gift

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: V | Jihyun Kim/Main Character

Warning: N/A

Word Count: 3, 901

Summary: Set after the good ending of Another Story. Life pulls Jihyun and Lux apart as they focus on their careers. Both desire to see the other... but to reunite, they would have to be brave with each other.

Sleeping Underneath Perseids

“You are miserable, Jihyun.”

“Am I?” Jihyun replied with a serene smile as Jumin sidled beside him.

“You’ve been staring at this for twenty minutes now.”

“Critiques stare at them for longer—”

“Not blankly.”

The smile froze on his face. “Well…”

“Additionally, your participation today was appalling.” Jumin crossed his arms and inspected the work Jihyun had, indeed, been staring at blankly for a while. It was an abstract piece that played with colours and shades. “You sighed more than you talked; I fear for the function of your lungs.”

Jihyun winced. “Uh…”

“And you haven’t been communicating with the gallery staff? The event planners?”

“That’s...” he trailed off at his friend’s piercing stare and smiled sheepishly. “Have I not?”

Jumin sighed and shook his head. “Assistant Kang counted at least thirty unanswered emails redirected to our public relations department this past month.”

“Thirty!?”

“Thirty.”

“Oh, no… I should apologise.” Jihyun accepted the guilt that assailed him. Jumin wouldn’t lie; he had been slacking off, hadn’t he? Retrospectively, he hadn’t been proactive or engaged as he was—as he ought to be. With his first exhibition so close it was shameful of him to fall into disinterest. It was a disservice to the people who gave their aid and resources to ensure his success. Not to mention the many people who supported him.

But he couldn’t help it; he couldn’t concentrate.

“Worry not,” Jumin assured him. “I settled the matter. They’re happy to forgive you.”

“Thank you, Jumin. I owe you.” Again. Relief did not assuage Jihyun’s guilt. He shouldn’t be leaving all his responsibilities on Jumin. The exhibition was his desire, a milestone he craved as an artist. It wouldn’t hurt to apologise himself the next opportunity he got.

“Pay it now. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Jihyun sighed—alarm crossed Jumin’s face—and perused the artwork once more. The blue hues reminded him of her. The colour complemented her hair, made her eyes brighter. He’d love to give her a dress in that exact colour and paint her wearing it... if they ever got time. “I miss Lux.”

“Did she go somewhere?”

“No,” he chuckled, glancing at Jumin. “She’s busy.”

“Busy—ah.” He nodded knowingly. “The date of her concert has been set.”

Jihyun smiled proudly. “Indeed. She’s also composing for her school.”

“What for?”

“They’re holding a musical festival next month.”

“Oh.”

“That’s on top of her normal duties.”

“I see. Well, that will make her busy.” Jumin moved on. Jihyun followed him, hands slipping in his coat pockets. The next work they stopped at was also abstract. The shapes and lines in the composition exuded a sense of solidity and structure. “You’ve been busy as well.”

He sighed. “Yes.”

“But you still see each other every day, no?”

Jihyun smiled sadly, but didn’t answer. Technically, yes, they did see each other every day. Barely. It was selfish, but… it was driving him mad. Nowadays, they hardly talked—just a brief exchange of words to keep the connection. He missed their conversations, the sound of her voice… her sweet laughter. Without her in his arms every night he drowned in emptiness—one born out of finally knowing what love was only to lose it, even if it was a little.

Of course, they did their best with what they had. Calls... texts... they'd inundated the messenger with their chats. Luciel teased them about it. Yoosung and Hyun lamented their lack of partners. At home they shared small gestures and loving touches, simple things meant to comfort. It was a reminder that they were still here and together.

But even then…

“It’s not enough,” he admitted, wincing when he caught Jumin’s surprised look. “Too greedy?”

“I’m not the best judge,” Jumin answered. They moved on again, their shoes clicking against the marble flooring. The third work they perused was still abstract. The paint was spattered on, each spot and streak of colour placed to evoke emotion and thought. “And? Did you tell her this?”

“I...” Jihyun hesitated. Jumin looked at him again and he flushed.

“Why not?”

“I don’t want to trouble her.”

“Resentment breeds from kindness,” he warned with a sigh. “You don’t want her to worry, so you hide—that is who you are. However, soon you might find yourself wondering why she doesn’t sense your feelings herself.”

“Resent her? Me?” Jihyun’s eyes widened. “Would I?”

“You’re not the type.” Jumin shrugged. “But you have changed.”

When Jumin moved on again, Jihyun didn’t follow this time. Could he resent Lux for their time apart? It was hard to imagine. They weren’t busy for the sake of it. Their careers had taken a progressive turn neither of them could or ought to prevent. They had endured so much to arrive here, in a time where both of them were happy with themselves and each other. Easily discarding opportunities… didn’t feel right.

But. Right now, he needed her—craved for her in a way that was almost frightening. Regardless of the work she had to do, he desired to monopolise her time and affections. If it were up to him he’d locked both of them up at home and not come out for a month. What did such possessiveness mean? Was he not far off? Would he, again, ultimately hurt the one he love?

“From what I’ve observed,” Jumin said, catching Jihyun’s attention. Relieved, he turned to his friend and found him poring over his phone, typing and swiping at the screen. “Grand romantic gestures are the perfect way to present your feelings.”

“Grand…” he tilted his head, “romantic gestures?”

“Yes.”

Jihyun waited, but Jumin said nothing more. This time he moved on, circling the hall and inspecting the rest of the artworks. The architectural and interior aesthetic of the gallery was pleasing. Certain partitions and walls were made of glass. It exuded an illusion of openness, exposing the art and giving the guests breathing room. It was something Jihyun wanted in his exhibition: for his works to envelop people without overwhelming them.

“Here.”

Jumin’s phone crossed Jihyun’s vision. He took the device and read the article displayed. “There’s a meteor shower happening.”

“Take Lux to it. Surely she can spare a night? Give her a bouquet and arrange dinner.”

Smiling sadly, Jihyun returned the device. “She returns home late nowadays.”

“You visit her at work, do you not? Whisk her away—I hear women love that.”

His smile turned sheepish. Whisk her away? Disturbing her at her workplace made him want to cringe. Wouldn’t that be disruptive and disrespectful to her? “I never visit during work hours; I pick her up after. Besides, I couldn’t possibly disturb her when she’s working hard—”

“Jihyun,” Jumin interrupted with a longsuffering sigh. “My father’s girlfriends stomp into the office demanding shopping allowance from him. That is incomparable to you visiting your beloved at her workplace so you can spend more time with her.”

“I don’t know, Jumin…”

“You love her.”

“I do.”

“Focus on that.” Jumin pocketed his phone and started making his way to the exit. Jihyun followed beside him, now looking at his feet in thought. “You have courageously faced art. Now, you must be brave with her.”

“I’ll… think about it.”

Jihyun gripped the bouquet. In his chest swirled many complex emotions, making him jittery. Lux sat at the piano on the stage across the hall, her hands rested on the keys. She was always beside him, so close to him that it was all he ever knew. Watching her from afar was a rare occurrence he savoured... because she was always different. It was like meeting her for the first time again and again. It was apt; he had never seen her in her work environment until now. His skin prickled as he witnessed a side of her he never saw. She was so beautiful… and he longed to tell her. But should she? Perhaps it was a bad idea for him to visit unannounced.

Beside her stood Seojun, her mentor and workmate. They were amidst a discussion; occasionally, Lux would play a few phrases and then write notes on the music sheet. His chest twinged as the two laughed and leaned close to each other. What a natural pair they made. Her mentor exuded such sophistication that Jihyun felt it from where he stood. It matched Lux perfectly. When Lux told Jihyun that Seojun was married with children, it was a relief—not that he was actually worried. Still, the close relationship between him and Lux were undeniable.

Shock raced down his back as Seojun caught his eyes, but he managed a polite smile which was returned. Seojun whispered to Lux and Jihyun’s smile widened when she turned to look at him. The way she brightened warmed his heart—however, it leapt about a thousand miles when she hopped off the stage instead of using the steps. He opened his arms and waited as she ran to him.

“Jihyun!” she cried, launching herself at him. He caught her easily, everything within him relaxing as his arms bore her weight and the scent of her shampoo surrounded him. For the first time in weeks he was finally safe… home. “I can’t believe it! I’m so happy to see you!”

His cheeks warmed and he hugged her tighter. “You are?”

“Of course I am!” chuckling, she leaned back. “No work today?”

“Oh, no.” Her expression was the happiest he had ever seen. And it was all directed at him. She looked like that because of him. He caused her happiness. That alone was enough to make his heart full. “I thought I’d see you and… well, give you this.”

She gasped as he presented the bouquet to her. Taking the flowers into her arms, her expression softened. “You’re so sweet, Jihyun. Thank you.” The beginnings of a blush dusted her cheeks and it took Jihyun all he had not to caress her skin and feel the warmth for himself.

“Lux,” he said softly.

“Yes?” she replied as she brought the petals close to her nose.

The words formed on Jihyun’s tongue, but he hesitated to say them. Though she stood before him now he still missed her; she was still so far away from him. Could he reach her now even with the right words? Could he even dare to be selfish with her? As he struggled, he noticed Lux hide behind the bouquet. All his worries vanished. He stepped toward her. “Lux? Are you okay—are you crying?”

“N-no…” she said, stepping back.

“I did something, didn’t I?” he couldn’t mistake the soft sound of her sniffling, the way her voice was weak and unconvincing. Now, his heart ached at the sight of her upset. He approached her until the space between them no longer existed and cupped her cheeks, wiping at her eyes. “I’m so sorry. Please, tell me what it is.”

“These are tears of joy.” She lowered the flowers and his heart broke. However, when she met his eyes she smiled—it was shaky, but it was a real smile. Relieved, he returned her smile and waited as she attempted to speak. She took a big breath. “Y-you visited me a-and gave me f-flowers and—and I just miss you. I really, r-really miss you.”

“Oh, my love.” He kissed her forehead. With a small smile, he admitted defeat. She beat him to it. Then again, she was always braver and more forthcoming with her emotions than he was. Jumin was right; he must also be brave with Lux. As she had always been with him. “In that case then I’d love to—”

“I am so sorry for interrupting.” Seojun’s voice shattered the fragile bubble around them. “Lux, we need you now.”

All tension left Jihyun’s shoulders. Defeated a second time. He dropped his hands as Lux stepped back and looked at her mentor. He watched the two of them. She wasn’t crying anymore; the only evidence that she had was the redness of her nose and eyes. “Ten minutes, please? I’ll be there.”

Seojun nodded and walked off. Jihyun turned to her. “Are you okay?”

“Of course,” she smiled at him and he smiled back. “You were saying something.”

“Oh…” he stalled by wiping the last traces of tears from her eyes and smoothing her hair back. “I wanted to know if you’ll come home late again tonight.”

With a grimace, she nodded. “I am so sorry.”

“Can’t be helped.” He petted her hair and she giggled. “I’ll have dinner ready.”

“You’re so good to me.” She embraced him. “I don’t deserve you.”

Jihyun disagreed, but said nothing. He kissed the top of her head. “Go now, they need you.”

She nodded. “Okay.”

A few seconds passed. Jihyun tilted his head to gaze at Lux. “You’re not letting go.”

“You’re not either.”

He chuckled. “All right. On the count of three?”

She sighed. “One.”

“Two.”

“Three.”

They separated, but Jihyun could not help himself and leaned close to kiss her cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you.” She cupped his cheek. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“Yes.” She dropped her hand and walked off. He watched her, waving when she looked back at him. She waved back and jogged back to the stage. Upon her return, Seojun was the first to talk to her. However, soon enough many other gathered around her. He smiled at the sight of her laughing and talking, imprinting it to his memory before he exited the hall.

A week after.

Jihyun didn’t attempt to whisk Lux away again. Perhaps being publically spontaneous or doing grand romantic gestures were not for him. It was more Hyun’s style… or Jumin’s, since he was the one who suggested the idea in the first place. It would be forcing something to happen for the sake of his need and feelings. That was how he lived three years ago… no more. He resigned to wait. They love each other—that was a fact he’d risk his life on. This separation would not last forever. When they reunite he’d make sure to let her know thoroughly how much he missed her. He knew she’d do the same.

For now, however, he had to focus. Lux did her best so he shouldn’t be slacking off.

He was at the gallery again, with Jumin. The exhibition was two weeks away. The staff and event planners were at the final stages of preparation. This time Jihyun took the lead, paying attention to every detail and making decisions. This was a crucial time to ensure the event would run smoothly; if anything were to go wrong it would be his responsibility. He didn’t want to disappoint himself or everybody who believed in him.

Especially Lux.

As Jihyun and Jumin talked with the gallery director the sound of clicking caught their attention. Looking up, Jihyun’s breath caught. It was Lux. She was hurrying towards them. Though blue was a colour that belonged to her, she was a vision in her white and red dress. She was so beautiful that for a second Jihyun was certain he had dreamt her existence.

“I’m sorry for intruding,” Lux said cheerily. “I’m here to steal the love of my life for the night.”

She stopped by his side and he gazed at her in awe. The love of her life? His cheeks warmed and when he caught the gallery director’s stare they practically burned. To hide his embarrassingly red face, he lowered his head. However, he couldn’t help smiling. The love of her life. No one’s ever called him that before. Such a declaration made him lightheaded.

“Go on, then,” Jumin answered. Jihyun lifted his head and found him smiling at them. “However, do return him safely. He still has an exhibition to host, after all.”

“Yes, sir.” Lux then took his hand, winking at him when he glanced at her. “Let’s go.”

“O-okay.” Stumbling over his feet, he followed her as she pulled him towards the direction she came from. He looked over his shoulder at his best friend who waved them off with an approving nod. He returned the gesture before turning his attention back to Lux, who was leading him out of the gallery. As they descended the steps, he noticed his car parked along the curb. “May I ask where we’re going?”

“It’s the last meteor night!” she said. “No way we are missing it.”

They got into the car and they were off. Jihyun couldn’t believe what he just heard. So she knew about the meteor shower as well… and wanted to take him to it? The thought melted his heart… but she was not meant to be here tonight. She had rehearsals tonight and had to practice for her upcoming concert. “But… what about rehearsals?”

“I skipped,” she admitted with a sheepish smile. “I’m sure the conductor is livid, but he’s a married man. I’m sure he’ll understand.”

“Oh, Lux… you didn’t have to.”

She took his hand and squeezed gently. “I want to.”

Jihyun smiled. He kissed her cheek and let the conversation end as she concentrated on driving. He didn’t stop holding onto her hand, however, and only let go when she needed two hands on the wheel; when she didn’t anymore he took her hand back. What he did might be making Lux uncomfortable, but he wanted to indulge in his selfishness. He hadn’t been close to her in so long that now he had her, he didn’t want to let go.

It's been an hour and Jihyun was worried for Lux. Not only had she been driving, she'd also been engaging him in conversation. She was fine, though, smiling at him when he gazed at her in concern. The bright city lights that surrounded them were now far behind; there was nothing but darkness. Looking out the window he saw the outline of trees. It was dense at first, but soon it thinned and gave him a dim view of open fields. Soon after, Lux drove them up a hill that led to a cliff lookout. In the distance were car lights and… Jihyun squinted. There were silhouettes of people sitting on either the hood or the roof of the cars.

“We’re here,” Lux announced as parked into a free spot. Smiling at him, she lowered the roof. “Come to the backseat with me?”

Without the roof, they now had a full view of the night sky. Jihyun couldn’t help staring up as he got out. The city lights were so bright that seeing a star would be a miracle. In complete darkness there were tens of thousands of them, overwhelming in their naked beauty. Oh, how he wished he had his camera right now. Lux should see them too. He glanced at the back seat… and whatever he wanted to say vanished. She sat there and beside her was an open picnic basket. From its depths she pulled one box after another. The effort she might have gone through… Jihyun’s heart was full. “You made dinner too?”

“Stargazing is not as fun on an empty stomach,” Lux said. “Come on.”

He got into the back seat. “But you must have been busy today…”

“I got out of work early,” she giggled. “And Yoosung was kind enough to help me.”

He pulled Lux into his embrace. She froze—he must have surprised her, but he couldn’t help himself. He didn’t want to. In this moment, he wanted to let her know everything. “I miss you. I missed you so much.”

“I miss you too.” She stroked his hair—it’s been a while since she did that. Tears seeped from the corners of his eyes and down his cheeks—he’d probably ruined her dress. He couldn’t stop himself. The amount of love he had for the woman in his arms was too much that his body needed to express it in any way it can. All too soon they separated. Lux gasped and brushed her fingers across his cheeks. “Oh no, I made you cry!”

He held onto her hands and smiled. “These are happy tears.”

“I’m glad you’re happy,” she chuckled and continued to wipe the tears away. “Shall we eat? The shower will start in half an hour.”

Jihyun nodded and took the box Lux handed to him. Quietly, they ate. It was an activity he hadn’t enjoyed in a while with their schedules forcing them to eat apart or fast. Soon enough, they stared to talk—actual conversations this time and not the stilted small they had to endure. He learned new things about her rehearsals and the musical event in her school. He also updated her with his work and the encouragements she gave him made his heart soar. It was like he was getting to know her all over again.

“Uhm…” Lux intoned after they finished the last of the dessert. “I want to thank you.”

Jihyun blinked. “Me?”

She smiled, nodding. “I appreciate your patience. Mostly, I appreciated you coming to see me.”

“Oh, that’s nothing—”

“It’s everything.” She held his hand and squeezed. “What you did… gave me courage to do this. I wanted to see you whenever I had free time… it sounds silly, but I was so worried that I’d disturb you and I end up never doing anything. But then you visited me and… I realised I should be braver when it comes to loving you.”

Compared to this what he had done was such a small thing. However, to find that it was enough to positively influence her… it was heady. In a strange cycle, it made him courageous in return… he wanted to do more for her. “Then… I’ll come see you in the future… wherever and whenever.”

“Please do. I’m always happy to see you,” she said. “I’ll do the same.”

He caressed her cheek. “What did I do to deserve you?”

“Oh, I’m not that great—oh, it’s starting!”

Lux pointed at the sky. Jihyun looked up and to his delight saw silver streaks as one meteor after another zipped across the sky. It was a glorious sight—as if precious stones were strewn all over the sky, but it was too fragile, burning to nothing before humans could even capture them. After setting the boxes and the picnic basket to one side, Lux pressed herself close to him and he wound his arms around her shoulders.

“Please wait for me a bit more,” she said softly.

“Always.”

She leaned her head on his shoulder and he kissed the top. Lux said she wasn’t that great, but he couldn’t disagree with her more. Like the ephemeral meteors above them, people like Lux were the type that any person could only encounter once in their entire life. Often they didn’t linger, only imprinting themselves in the memories of the people they’ve touched. Their presence was brilliant, but gone in the blink of an eye. Jihyun was incredibly lucky that in his arms was one such person and that she had decided to stay with him.

He looked at her, smiling to see her sleeping soundly. She worked so hard today that he didn’t have the heart to wake her… even for something as incredible as meteor showers. He let her sleep, tucking her hair behind her ear.

She had waited for him for two years.

For her… he was ready to wait forever.

#mystic messenger #jihyun kim #mysme jihyun #mysme v #mm v #fanfiction: mystic messenger #mysmefanfic: oneshot #mysmefanfic: jihyun kim #mysmefanfic: mc #mysmefanfic: love

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