#it’s why I can’t concentrate because I seek out those comfort activities just so I don’t panic but I get comfortable

[kavehater]

Truthfully it would be easier if I just isolate myself from everyone simply because after so long of just shoving things down and being told to shove things down and being told to get over it and stop being sensitive I’ve become so much more sensitive after being so unfeeling and it’s ruining everything

Not even having aventurine could fix this 😔🙏 LOLLL

[bigwhispersbluebird]

BTS reaction when they are jealous  (Hyung Line)

Author’s Note: I often read a lot of reaction based fics and realize that perhaps my take on it is a little different. So here it goes. Do tell me if you like it or agree or just anything. Also, I am new to this so excuse me for any mistakes. Thanksss

Warnings: None

Seokjin or Jin

He watched from far as a man in his 20s approached you from behind as you finished the call you had excused yourself to attend. Judging from your reaction, he concluded that you knew the guy. Even though he couldn’t hear a word, your comfortable laugh, the way you slightly hit his shoulder while talking and mimicked his body language, Jin felt a weird irk inside him.

Don’t misunderstand, Kim Seokjin was very confident about himself but there was a part of him that often wondered if he was enough. He might be handsome but there were more handsome people around. He was not the smartest or the most athletic and he came with a load of baggage. So much that he couldn’t cross the room to where you were standing and openly declare that you were his gorgeous and brilliant girlfriend.

His thoughts were intruded by the chime of his phone. 

“You okay?”, your text read and he looked up to spot you a few tables away. The young stranger gone now and your eyes only on him. 

“No. I am Jin”, he replied in his usual manner, trying to hide the truth, cracking the worst joke ever in the process and wincing at himself as soon as he sent it.

He watched as you laughed unabashedly as soon as you saw the screen, your eyes glistening and he realized that this laugh was just for him. 

“You must be really in love with me if you laughed at that”, he sent and watched as you read and suddenly the same look overtook your face that he had seen on himself so many times when he was with you. 

He only took his eyes off you when his phone chimed again.

“Of course. Who else would ever compare?”

Yoongi or Suga

This was getting annoying for him. Yoongi would call himself a pretty calm person especially after the ten years of life as an artist had made him immune to almost everything happening around him. But this was getting on his nerves. 

You had walked into HYBE tonight and after just being at Genius Lab for a few minutes, you had asked about Do-Yan and went to seek him as soon as Yoongi told you that he must be in PDogg’s studio. Had it been a one time occurrence, Yoongi wouldn’t even have cared enough to think much into it but after this becoming a routine, he was over it. 

Do-Yan was a talented young producer who was contracted for TXT’s new album. You were heavily involved in the A&R activities of BigHit Music and were actually the person who had discovered Do-Yan. In your perspective, he could be a great asset and while he was just here on a temporary basis, you wished to persuade him to sign him as a BigHit producer permanently. PDogg had agreed with you and now you both were on the task of convincing him to stay. 

Unaware of this all, Yoongi decided to do something about the situation. As he typed the messages to the management team, he knew that this was very petty of him but he was beyond the point of caring right now. 

The next time you asked him about Do-Yan, Yoongi did not look up from his computer as he said, “He has been moved”. 

“What?”, you were shocked to say the least. “Moved? What do you mean moved?”

“He will be working with Bang PD directly now so he will be in the other building.”

“So, he signed the contract?”

Now Yoongi was getting agitated, “Why do you care so much?”, he had turned his seat around and was now only focusing on you. His tone was still calm but inside he was screaming.

Oblivious to the storm inside him you said, “Why wouldn’t I? He must have else he would not have said yes to that since...”, Yoongi was not even listening anymore. 

“He did. I talked to the management myself and got him to say yes”, Yoongi said. His voice low and his back now turned to you. “You can move there as well if you want to see him and care about him so much”.

“You...but you didn’t know”, suddenly all the pieces fell into place in your mind and you scolded yourself mentally for not noticing it yourself. 

“Yoongi”, you called out to him softly as you moved closer to his chair. “Jagiya”, you called again as you kneeled beside his chair, taking his hand lightly in yours. 

“I just wanted him to join the company so I was spending most of my time on that. I am sorry that I did not clear it to you. I’ll make up for all the lost time now that you’ve got it done”. 

Yoongi couldn’t even remember what he was angry about as you placed yourself on his lap, pulling him close to leave a gentle kiss on his lips. 

After a while your phone rang and you announced that you had to go for a meeting. As you inched closer to the door, you remembered something and without even turning around you said:

“I can’t believe you got him moved”

You closed the door behind you but not before hearing his low chuckle.

Hoseok or J-Hope or Hobi 

“I think Yeonjun and I should perform on something more sexy?”, you said with your eyes fixated on his face waiting for a reaction.

His eyebrows furrowed and then as if thinking about it, he immediately turned to you, nodding, “Yes, I think it will work great with both of your stage personalities”.

You were surprised. This was not the answer that you were expecting. You had hoped that he would get jealous like all those TikTok boyfriends. 

But you were not going to be dejected so easily. 

“Why don’t you help with the choreography?”, you suggested, a plan already forming in your head. 

“Y/N, I would have been offended had you not asked me”, he said as he showed off his gorgeous smile.

After a few days when you three started working on the performance, you tried to make Hobi jealous. You would suggest even more suggestive moves but he would just think about them and excitedly agree to them or politely decline saying how it does not fit with the steps. 

He would watch as you danced, concentrated and focused, but unwavering. 

After weeks of this charade, you grew tired and when Yeonjun excused himself to leave for a music show you exasperatedly sighed in front of Hobi who was monitoring the recently shot dance practice video of yours. 

“I don’t think you even care about me”.

“Huh?!”, Hobi was bewildered. “What?!”

“Yeah, you don’t care if I go throw myself in someone else’s arms”, your voice was loud in the empty dance studio. You lowered it again, “you don’t care”.

“Y/N”, Hobi was now closer to you, looking straight into your eyes. “I care. I care a lot. I care that this performance is amazing because this is a great opportunity for you. I care that your steps show exactly how good of a dancer you are. I care and that is why I would never let anybody else do it instead of me”. 

You were surprised. This was not what you were looking for but it was a pleasant difference. 

“And I would care if it was not a performance. I would, I do care if anyone even looks at you in the wrong way but I would never take it out on you. I want you to be able to perform without worrying what I would take it as. I want you to be loved by everyone in the audience”. 

His arms slowly snaked around your waist and under your sweatshirt, “just not the way that I do”.

Namjoon or RM

Namjoon had watched you the entire night, his eyes refusing to leave your figure as you rushed around the venue making sure everything was perfect. 

It was the last concert of the tour and you as the tour manager were adamant on making it memorable and smooth. Double-checking everything, you finally allowed yourself a moment of peace as you saw your boyfriend rehearse his performance for Trivia:  Love. 

Namjoon locked eyes with you, smiling and rapping his lines as if talking to you. Suddenly, you felt the weight of something on your shoulders and you looked away from the stage realizing that it was your assistant, Alan, who had just covered you with his jacket. You smiled gratefully as he extended a hand holding your coffee. 

“You should rest for a while before we meet back for sound check”, he suggested and you looked at your watch to see that he was right. Tonight was going to be hectic and a power nap was definitely needed.

You had not even realized that the stage was now empty and the leader was standing right by your side. His eyes were not on you, but on the man now sitting beside you, glancing at his jacket on your shoulders. 

Shrugging the jacket off, you asked, “Are you done? Any issues?”. 

Not answering your question, Namjoon kept staring at Alan and you felt bad for the poor guy. You asked again and this time Namjoon’s lips turned into a smile, “None, jagiya”. Jagiya?! 

Now you were the one staring daggers at him but he did not waver. Instead, with the same smile plastered on his lips, he took off his jacket and placed it on your shoulders, pulling the zipper closer together as he made his way to where Alan was sitting. Alan immediately got up, excusing himself and vacating the seat that now your boyfriend occupied, his hand reaching across your shoulder to pull you into him. 

You resisted. 

“ ‘Jagiya’. Really?! Really, Namjoon?”

He just smiled at that, genuinely this time. “Come on, you know I lose all calm when it comes to you”.

“Calm and senses, both”, you murmured as he laughed and pulled you closer and you let him, closing your eyes and resting before work would call you again.

[itsamiraculous]

Alya and Secrets

So I started making a post about Alya and secrets a little while back, but after Sentibubbler I put it off as I wasn’t sure, however after Rocketear I feel as if it still stands. 

Sentibubbler revealed to me that yes Alya can control things by herself, is loyal to Marinette and wouldn’t reveal her secret easily. I never wanted to insinuate that she ever would, but now after Rocketear, I feel as if my belief that Alya will make a mistake with the secrets department. Alya has told Nino about Rena Furtive when Marinette had firmly told her not to, knowing of Marinette’s fears and her position as Ladybug.

Alya decided to tell Nino everything because she doesn’t like keeping secrets from him, her relationship has never been like that. Her role as a journalist is to seek the truth as well. She is not comfortable with keeping secrets, and I don’t blame her for that, I think it’s actually very commendable. What I don’t agree with is that she has gone against Marinette. The repercussions could be dire, like what happened in Optygami, or it could cause a huge rift in their friendship. In Sentibubbler Marinette was afraid that all of her secrets would get out and that she would be betrayed by Alya. I believe that she will still have a “betrayal” by Alya (also by Chat, but that’s a different post). Then in Gang of Secrets she was afraid of telling Alya everything could change and potentially destroy their relationship.

Rocketear also highlighted again why Marinette keeps secrets. We see it breaking her relationships throughout this season; she is making sacrifices to those she cares about because of the role she takes on and the stakes as Ladybug and is breaking her and potentially all of her relationships, whether that be with family or other. 

Rest lies below the cut, this is a long post

Her responsibilities are keeping her away from happiness, with her family, from her friends, and has also broken her chances for romance with anyone. I don’t think that is a coincidence that her family was brought forward and the fact of Marinette’s need/want to keep secrets will be tested with Alya. Marinette’s vehemence of keeping her identity a secret is also influenced by the events of Chat Blanc

Speaking of Chat Blanc, within this episode Bunnix explains briefly why she was chosen to be the bearer of the Rabbit miraculous and it was because she knows how to keep a secret. Alya has constantly been surrounded by the challenges of being Trustworthy. Key episodes this season being Sentibubbler, Gang of Secrets, Optygami and now Rocketear.

I feel as if this has much more weight on it now after everything that has happened in this season so far.

Previously Alya has been shown how trustworthy she can or can’t be. In Puppeteer 2, Alya insists she didn't tell Nino about Marinette’s crush on Adrien when she clearly had. 

She clearly did tell Nino, or accidentally told him because otherwise there wouldn’t be the narrative of Alya and Nino trying to get Adrien and Marinette alone together etc.

I do trust Alya, but she has a recurring theme where there is too much emphasis on the word trustworthy which insinuates that this is a challenge for her character. 

Alya can als be quite pushy. Like in Sapotis when she got too swept up, and Trixx planted the notion of becoming a permanent miraculous holder, but he was also the one to help her realise to prove herself trustworthy. Trixx and Alya can also be very hard to say no to, they have a persuasive attitude, but it can also make people realise things.

Alya can be very pushy when she gets swept up in “helping” Marinette get close to Adrien. Reflekdoll and Gigantitan always have rubbed me the wrong way with Alya’s role. In Gigantitan, Marinette wanted to help that woman up the stairs who had baby August in the stroller, Alya insisted for Marinette to stay, until the woman was really struggling and Marinette just went, and even then Alya was in her ear saying to hurry up as Adrien was coming.

If Alya just let Marinette be everything would have been fine. In all actuality, if Adrien saw Marinette he would probably help and it would start a lovely, genuine conversation considering he also wanted to help, but couldn’t. It’s in their blood to help. Both Marinette and Adrien earnt the miraculous because they were the only ones around who cared enough to help people. 

In Reflekdoll it was both the fault of Marinette and Alya that Juleka went in on herself. Marinette didn’t allow Juleka to speak as she bombarded her with questions. Alya was pushing because of the time crunch and pushed Marinette and Adrien together, she had completely overlooked Juleka’s feelings as well. Marinette didn’t completely get blinded as she did try to double check that Juleka was alright. 

Alya can just be impulsive sometimes. Most of the time when she is told to stop, like in Sapotis when Marinette tells her to slow down in trying to find out Ladybugs identity, and then when Ladybug tells her she can’t tell anyone, Alya complies.

Being impulsive is what Alya has in common with Chat Noir with his self-sacrificial tendencies and emotions clouding judgement.

She is aware of getting ahead of herself anyways

Alya and Marinette are both making mistakes. Alya made a huge one in Optygami because her judgement is impared due to her emotions towards Nino. Marinette has made and is making a lot of mistakes. The huge ones are those which take time to surface, like what happened with Chloe and what is happening with Chat Noir. Marinette decided to reward Alya by giving her the miraculous permanently. I don't think she should have done that, at least not yet. It's a huge risk on top of another. Marinette knew from the beginning that Hawkmoth knew who the holders were, yet still decided to give them out to the same people, however with Chloe it was totally different. She should have been open with her in the first place. 

Marinette has also always been super lenient with Alya as well, first with allowing Nino and Alya knowing their alter egos (although Alya knew of Nino in the first place), but again a huge risk really, as we saw in Catalyst, they got distracted, and their emotions getting themselves turned into scarlet. 

Although, I do understand that there was a time crunch.

Marinette often has a double-standard and bias when it comes to Alya. For instance, in Style Queen Marinette was going to give the Bee miraculous to Alya as well. 

Why!??? When Alya already had been using the Fox Miraculous. Ladybug’s decision to constantly not tell Chloe is what led to Miracle Queen. It was not fair. Sorry, there is no way I can really excuse that. She was so blind-sided by judgement in that decision.

However that has equally been counteracted by proving she is trustworthy, that she is loyal and also looks for the facts. Alya can also be level-headed like the approach of finding out who was framing Marinette in Ladybug. 

She has been a big help for Marinette as well, as we see in Mr. Pigeon 72.

She was a miracle in Sentibubbler as well! As she kept her cool and thought ahead. She still made a couple of mistakes like telling Chat Noir it’s a two person operation etc. Not her fault though. Nothing said in that moment would have helped.

Alya is definitely a huge asset for Marinette to have, by running ideas and taking some of the pressure off of her shoulders and ultimately being able to think for herself.

It all comes back to Bunnix in Chat Blanc as well saying she can keep a secret, so I fear what is to come. Alix has constantly been the one shown to have a rational head. Reverser being the big one, but also the little comments when with the girls like in Gang of Secrets and Gigantitan. 

I have a feeling that Marinette’s leniency with Alya may end up being a mistake. I do think it’s good some of her weight has been lifted, but now it seems she is being a little arbitrary. Alya we know has a huge target on her back. She may have saved herself in Sentibubbler, but now she has told Nino everything, against the wishes of Marinette. Although, Marinette says that she does trust Alya when Alya fixes things at the end of Rocketear.

I think Alya makes this decision as she is firm in her belief that secrets shouldn’t be kept when it comes to loved ones, especially those who are meant to be your partner (best friend, boyfriend/girlfriend). I also wonder whether this decision to tell Nino was also influenced because Marinette was easy on her after what happened in Optygami, thinking Marinette wouldn’t mind. Plus she got around it all in Puppeteer 2.

Marinette is actively going against her own beliefs (and what she was told by Master Fu) by utilising the same miraculous holders. I understand that she is the new guardian and she is making her own rules, but she also saw sense in keeping things secret, because of her own identity, and how she refuses to allow Chat Noir to know who the holders are as well. It is way too risky, whatever Marinette is up to. She is not allowing Chat Noir his right to know as much as she does; they are meant to be partners, but it doesn’t feel like that. That is all due to her fear of Chat Blanc and its events. She is now heavily reliant on Alya/ Rena Rouge. That is going to cause a huge rift once Chat becomes wise to their dynamic as we are seeing blatantly now in Rocketear. 

What happens if Alya slips up again and it’s huge this time. What is the secret that Bunnix is referring to that makes Ladybug/Marinette realise that she is the one to be trusted with the Rabbit miraculous? When will that be? Will Marinette have a falling out with Alya after finding out that Alya told Nino that she was still working as covert Rena?

I think what Marinette has decided was untimely. These kids shouldn’t be dealing with this, but they are. They are feeling way too much and are still trying to learn about themselves. It is not fair. They are bound to make decisions. I just have this unsettled feeling that there is too much concentration around this topic to overlook. I don’t think that Marinette is going to be best pleased when she finds out that Alya has told Nino everything, especially after all that she has sacrificed with Luka and Adrien and as Rocketear stated about her family again. I think the pressure will get to her again.

[wickedgamesoyaoya]

Hundreds of academic studies have been dedicated to observing those who are cursed with a toxic reliance on alcohol or illegal substances. Yet, not many have considered to conflate infatuation with addiction, and so the question that remains is… can one become addicted to a person? To their smile? To their laugh…? Further, it is not uncommon for addicts to substitute one addiction with another to relieve anxiety or stress. Perhaps that was why had become obsessed with distractions. The form of the distraction held little significance to you. Whether it was spending ever spare second outside of the emptiness of your apartment or burning your emotions with the poison of the night.

Your craving to escape reality can easily be traced back to three months ago when your primary addiction was no longer within reach.

Since the beginning of your relationship it was no secret that you were infatuated with the younger twin and his affections. Hanamaki once humourlessly commented that you were oddly obsessed with him, but it was just love. Pure, unconditional love.

And when you were no longer able to drown in him – in the love he offered in return, it was only natural that you sought to fill the emptiness with something else, despite the cost.

Now, when Bokuto originally instructed you to wait at the café for him, you intended on abiding without complaint. Except with the buzz of the champagne slowly fading, you were compelled to sustain the haze enveloping your thoughts. Caffeine would not provide you the fix you required, nor would the bottle of water, clutched in your right hand.

With a palm resting against your cheek, you shifted your gaze to the window, seeking the remedy to the hollowness returning to you.

“Oh. I forgot about that.” The comment mumbled under your breath was referring to the establishment located in the building directly beside yours. It was a small pub that you had passed by on countless nights. Glimmering illuminations framed the storefront, naturally drawing your attention to it; and the neon sign plastered against the window could not have been any more inviting. Each second that passed increased your desire to leave the café, as the dazzling colours sung out to you, summoning you to them.

It was not that you desired to disobey your friend’s instructions – it was simply that you yearned to join the lights, as they were offering you something you could not refuse. Bokuto would message you once he left the apartment, anyway. The few minutes it would take for him to return to the ground level would provide you enough time to return to the café. It was a concrete plan, at least that was the lie you comforted yourself with.

**

As you entered the establishment, the illumination drawing you there had become quite blinding. To battle the sudden strain on your eyes, you squinted, scrunching up your features in the process. The overload of your senses only continued as the speaker located to your right, blasted an unfamiliar melody, welcoming you to a party you were not meant to attend. You considered retreating the few steps advanced into the pub, but then you caught a whiff of an unknown liquor and it persuaded you to stay.

Silently, you proceeded towards the bar, ignoring the quizzical expressions tossed in your direction. The designer clothes gifted to you from your employer did not suit the ambiance of the pub, and it did not help that you were blinking excessively. Your struggle to adjust to the light could have easily been misinterpreted as the side effects of consuming an illegal substance. But you could care less what some random individuals thought about you.

The bartender flashed you a hospitable smile once you took a seat on the barstool, she did not seem to harbour any incorrect assumptions. Instead, she seemed to catch onto the strain over your mascara coated eyelids, something you realized when she issued an apology.

“It’s really bright, I know. It’s like the freakin’ sun, am I right?” The apologetic laughter exhaled by the mixologist radiated an energy that reminded you of someone… Though you could not pinpoint who. “Anyway, honey. What can I get ya?” After placing a napkin in front of you, she removed a glass from the pyramid behind her. The way she curved her eyebrow communicated that she was expecting an interesting order, most likely because of your attire.

“I’ll have whatever she’s having.” Crossing your arms over the wooden counter, you leaned forward with a toothy grin prior to motioning towards the girl seated beside you. “Because it looks like it’ll kill me and I am here for it.” Accompanying your words was a little wink, one that brought the older woman to laugh once more.

“Oh, that’s funny. Because that drink is called poisoned by love. It’s our newest addition.” Your answer satisfied her and communicated volumes about your reason for visiting. She made a mental note to observe you closely for the night, vulnerability and alcohol were a deadly mix, after-all.

“Poisoned by love… Cute. I’ll have two.” The number was illustrated by a peace sign, one that landed upon your cheek with accidental force. Yet you played it off, forcing the smile to remain attached to your mouth.

The sloppiness of the action engaged the bartender’s internal alarms. There was no way in hell she would be serving you anything beyond the drink she was in the process of concocting.

“Let’s start with one honey. Whatever kick you’re losing; I assure you that one of these babies will bring it back.” A nod of affirmation was applied to her head as she presented the final product to you, before settling it onto the napkin. “I’ll be back in a few minutes to see how you’re doing.”

The impact of the mixture did not require five minutes to activate. Two minutes into consuming the drink, one of the patrons beside you informed you that it was not meant to be downed in one motion. That would have been useful advice if it were provided before you chugged the liquid, unaware of the consequences that would follow.

At three minutes you understood the warnings issued by the barkeep, as you were stripped of any grip on reality. Glancing down at your hands, you tilted your head curiously at the injured one, trying to remember how it occurred. When the bartender returned to check up on you, upon seeing your brows knitted in confusion, she recommended you close your eyes for the remaining two minutes. Poisoned by love was particularly potent for the first five minutes if consumed in one go.

The initial high of the alcohol dimmed substantially after the five-minute mark, and soon your memories were returned to you. Brushing your fingers against your forehead, a growl was caught in your throat.

“I can see you’re feeling better.” She quickly removed the empty glass from ahead of you, making no suggestion that she would replace it with a second one. “I think this is also when I tell you that we have a rule against drinkin’ and textin’.” Too preoccupied by the phone within your grasp, you paid little attention to her remarks. It was quite obvious that you were plotting something with your newfound courage.  

“You don’t.” Your attention was torn away from the bright screen for only a second, to squint at the woman in disbelief.

“Maybe not… but it’s not a good idea.” Caught in a lie, she raised her hands then blew out a sigh. But you did not acknowledge the gesture, with your gaze returning to the device instantly.

“On the contrary, I think it’s a phenomenal idea…”

Let’s do it again, shall we -  poisoned by love 

Masterlist - Previous - Next

A/N: I am upset rn, NO ONE LOOK AT ME. the fact my finger slipped and I posted half of this earlier - UGH. bad fucking luck. ANYWAY. >:( If there are mistakes in this, it is because I can’t concentrate enough to edit them. >:( 

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[firerose]

headcannons about each individual member kf the seven as dark?

So I decided to split this answer into seven seperate posts because otherwise it would be too long (I'm having to much fun wit this XD)

I'll post the first one here <3

Ok, here we go <3, Hazel: People expected her to change after Franks death She had lost her boyfriend at fourteen no one expected that to be easy So none said anything when she kneeled over his grave for five whole days and nights Reyna simply brought her food and hot chocolate and mourned with her But if they all could have had a look into Hazel's mind they could have seen the slow death of the sweet kind girl she used to be Thoughts of hate begin to burn inside her She asks herself why Juno who saved Franks stick from burning up as a baby refused to do it a second time. The question makes her storm up to Olympus, her brown eyes hard with anger Her friends are with her, Of course, they want to protect each other now that one of them has fallen Juno awaits them in her usual glory, tall with a cloak around her shoulder and .. jewellery precious metals decorating her arms and neck "Why didn't? Do you save him? Was he just a weapon you did not need anymore?!, hazel shouts out her suspicion and now people, gods and demigods alike begin to worry The queen of Olympus remains silent She sees the hatred in hazels eyes and regrets not answering her grandsons screams for help when he burned in the flames Her silence is Hazel's answer and in her growing rage the necklace on Juno's neck starts chocking the goddess Hazel does not feel remorse, only satisfaction as she hears Junos choking It is Percy's hand on her shoulder that snaps her out and Juno's necklace flys into her open hand "You will never use a demigod like that again I will make sure of that. She says and then with one last glare leaves Things are not the same when shes back at camp Jupiter Everything and everyone annoys her, reminds her of what she has lost They are around her all the time like, Leo who reminds her of Sammy, Jason who made Frank Praetor, Percy who loved Frank like a brother Whenever they talk about Frank she feels the desire to yell at them One time when Jason tries to comfort her once again she snaps "You don't have to do this just because you made Frank Praetor and you feel guilty.", Hazel tells him a bit too harshly and Jason leaves her She feels guilty so she does her best to act as grateful as possible from now on The days are very hard for her That is why she loves the night She hasn't forgotten the power rush she got on Olympus and that is why keeps practising She steals weapons from the night patrols She makes the tunnels under the field of Mars change so that they all lead to dead ends When some of the new Rome's war veterans talk about having seen lost loved ones at night Hazel pretends to not listen She just thanks Jason in her thoughts for telling her so much about the ones that fell in the titan war Hazel disappears two weeks after Frank's death The remaining five of the seven are devastated They immediately go searching for her but even after five months there is no sign of her Other demigods start whispering Even Thalia who visits Reyna often is part of those whispers She doesn't know hazel and Frank well and yet what she has heard reminds her so much of the story of a friend she had once lost He had been left alone with his fate with his insane mother just like Hazel Thalia fears that now that Hazel has lost a loved one she will seek revenge just like Luke once did. Nico and Percy are Hazel's greatest defenders They deny every rumour and says that Hazel just needs time to calm down it's the only thing that keeps them from drowning in their guilt Hazell has gone to her old home in Alaska Arion took her there It hurts to be back but here she is saved from the gods who used her and her loved ones She's so sick of being their pawn The years pass and all alone in this cold country Hazel's heart turns to ice A few old men yell insult her with racist phrases She controls the metal ankers on their ships to impale them She hears screams from her neighbour's house at night and so she breaks the metal lock to get in The man who is beating his wife only has a second to look at her before her senses reach metal and they find it......in his

blood She concentrates hand stretched out and the man chokes to death She leaves without a word There is no remorse in her, if the gods let her sweet gentle boyfriend die why isn't she allowed to kill a few bad peopöe One day she decides to return as thoughts about her past cloud her mind Someone has to show the gods that they can't treat their children like this She returns after ten years but does not show herself to her friends Maybe because she worries that they notice how much she has changed Instead, she decides to try to control the labyrinth just like Pasiphae once did The mist helps her to create new tunnels that lead wherever she wants them to go One day they lead to new Rome She just wants to look at how everyone is doing but when she sneaks near the city hidden in her magic she sees something that makes her furious Her friends have moved on She sees them celebrating with other Romans and greeks They celebrate Gea‘s defeat like it wasn‘t just a terrible unnecessary war they had to suffer through She hates that they enjoy their demigod lives They should have told the gods that they want to live normally away from both camps that endanger their lives Unfortunately, that makes her think of Frank and how he has ripped away from his life, his home country just to serve the gods Hazel feels her rage burning like an active Volcano close to erupting She walks up the hill over new Rome and looks down at the glorious city She could bury it without even trying For a moment she thinks about the lives that will cost but then again what else could make the gods notice their flaws She reaches for all the metals buried under the city She hesitates for a moment but then she thinks about Frank, his sweet smile and with a scream the earth starts shaking Buildings and temples collapse People get swallowed by big cracks in the earth There are screams horns are blowing Mist is rising and People hear voices whisper that this is god's fault They have to be punished for their mistakes It‘s like a storm of fog being thickest at the hilltop Hazel‘s old friends are filled with dread as they have seen those powers before Leo decides to fly directly into the mist together with Piper and Jason Hazel sees them approaching and a soft smile appears on her lips The mist lightens All demigods gasp Leo yells in despair He already blames himself for Franks death and now he sees that Hazel the girl he once loved has gone mad Her once curly short hair now long falls around her shoulders Her once brown eyes glow sickly golden as if the riches of the earth have taken control over her It drives him insane and so he rips out a hammer from his tool belt and attempts to attack her Hazel feels deeply hurt by this and so she moves her hands Leo is thrown of Festus's toolbelt made of metal turning out to be his curse Hazel smashes him into the ground a hundred feet under him Festus claws impale Jason and Piper before they have time to react Hazel feels a sting in her heart but she oppresses it The gods and their quest would have killed them anyway Percy and Annabeth are still in the falling city trying to get as many people out of there as possible They both try to ignore the corpses falling from the sky Percy‘s mind is still refusing that the girl he sees as a sister would do this He knows that she has to be stopped but how is he supposed to do that? He still loves her like a sister despite the lives she is taking Her real brother steps up instead Hazel can feel his presence behind her It makes her lose focus The citizens of New Rome cry in relief when the metals stop resurfacing Their city is in ruins but at least it has stopped Before Hazel can react skeleton warriors jump out of the earth restrain her by grabbing her arms She is furious about Nicos interference and struggles to escape „Hazel please it‘s not worth it just surrender and we‘ll talk about this.“, Nico says while he walks up in front of her. Hazel‘s heart breaks at the tortured look in his eyes and she realizes that she is the reason for it She disappeared She came back and murdered

hundreds She did it for Frank but she suddenly asks herself if Frank would have ever wanted to get justice in this way Would he wanted her to become hateful and obsessed with revenge just for him? As she looks into Nico‘s eyes regret strikes her „I……..I‘m sorry.“, She whispers with tears in her eyes. Nico smiles sadly happy that his little sister came to her senses He stretches out his hand to gently touch her cheek Thunder rumbles and suddenly a lightning bold explodes the hilltop right where the children of the underworld Jupiter feels nothing as he watches Percy, Reyna and Annabeth falling to their knees, sobbing and holding each other Hazel Levesque is just another demigod for him, a girl that could not get over her boyfriend Percy buries Hazel next to Frank all by himself New Rome is rebuilt with the help of the greeks The time goes by and slowly Frank and Hazel‘s names are forgotten Juno would love if they had never existed in the first place Whenever demigods speak of them they do it with anger and the queen of Olympus fears that one day a rebellion will start It's not often that their names are talked about but when they are people always refer to them as „Hazel Levesque and Frank Zhang. The couple that died in Storm and fire

[havenoffandoms]

All That I Cannot Have (Eskel/Geralt) (NSFW)

Based on Kashimalin’s 50 Types of Kisses prompt list.

Prompt: "Deep kisses where they have their hands tangled in each other’s hair to pull them closer."

Pairing: Eskel/Geralt

Content Warning: breeding kink (Geralt), bottom Eskel, top Geralt, possessive Geralt, nipple play

Read on AO3.

Most people who meet Eskel for the first time - people like Triss, people like Jaskier, people like Ciri - describe him as serious, quiet, calm and potentially a bit shy, even a little intimidating with the scars running down his face and curling his lip in a permanent snarl. Geralt knows better, though. No matter how well people claim to know Eskel, they’ll never be on par with the century of shared trauma that Eskel and Geralt went through together, first as friends, then as brothers, then as lovers. It’s not like Eskel isn’t serious, or quiet, or calm, and occasionally shy around people he doesn’t know well. He can definitely seem a bit intimidating when he wants to be, but what witcher isn’t? 

All Geralt is saying is that there is so much more to Eskel’s personality, aspects that Eskel either wouldn’t dare show to a stranger in public, or aspects that only Geralt notices after over a century of knowing Eskel intimately. At times Eskel can be quiet and shy, and to use Lambert’s phrasing, as stiff as a bookkeeper in a body cast. He wasn’t always like that, though. A century of walking the Path, of being spat on by contract givers and chased out of villages by having stones thrown at him, a century of people not bothering to hide their disdain, and fear, and disgust for Eskel and his kind, was bound to take a toll on anyone eventually. Even Eskel, who used to be so playful and full of mischief. Even Eskel, who would willingly get himself into trouble to make Geralt laugh. 

Eskel has changed over the century Geralt’s known him - and that was always bound to happen, Geralt presumes - but one thing that never changed was Eskel’s bleeding heart and the inherent goodness inside of him. If anything, his big heart only grew bigger and softer over the years. Geralt admires that about him. Even though the Path has wiped away all of Eskel’s childlike playfulness, there are times when Eskel’s mischief comes back with a force, usually when he finds himself around children. Geralt will never forget the first winter he brought Ciri back to the keep. Once she had warmed up to Eskel’s presence, he would goad her into action every time, giving her ideas for pranks to play on Lambert, Vesemir and Geralt, of all people. 

Turns out that sharing Eskel’s bed every night during winter did not grant Geralt immunity from Eskel’s prankish machinations. If anything, it used to make him Ciri and Eskel’s prime target. 

There are times, when it’s just Geralt and Eskel in their shared bedroom, when Eskel’s playfulness truly comes to shine. Nobody else knows just how adventurous Eskel can be in the bedroom, nor how bratty he can be when he decides to test Geralt’s patience. Not that Geralt wants anyone to ever witness Eskel like this - not like this, completely debauched and reduced to a whimpering mess. That is a sight reserved for Geralt’s eyes exclusively, as he’s made it known multiple times in the past when Eskel would tease him about letting someone walk in on them. 

Nobody gets to see Eskel like this, not if Geralt has a say in this. 

Tonight is not that kind of night, though. Tonight is different, and Eskel somehow subconsciously knows that Geralt craves a different kind of game. Geralt and Eskel have retreated to their bedroom after celebrating Ciri’s coronation as Empress of Nilfgaard. A big day for Geralt’s pup… well, not so much a pup anymore, is she? She’s all grown up now, no longer the fiery little she-devil that the wolf witchers trained, but a grown woman. An empress. Geralt didn’t think Ciri’s coronation would make him feel so damn emotional, but it did, because it means that he’s now officially lost her. She’s officially left the nest, and she has exactly no obligation to visit Geralt now if she doesn’t wish to. 

Tonight, Geralt needs something different from Eskel, a game they’ve dabbled in on past occasions, but one that Geralt and Eskel both had to be in the mood for. He knows it’s weird to want this - not that Eskel would begrudge him this need, not his dear Eskel, who’s never once judged Geralt based on what he enjoys in bed. It’s weird to feel this need as a witcher, of all things. Or perhaps the fact that Geralt and Eskel are witchers is precisely the reason why he craves this kind of activity in bed. 

“Are you sure you want this?” Geralt asks one last time as he drops his forehead to Eskel’s, and lets his hand roam over the flat expanse of Eskel’s abdomen, “say the word, and it stops now.” 

“I want this,” Eskel whispers back, his tone growing impossibly softer as he leans into Geralt’s touch, “I want you, whatever way you’ll have me.”

“Hm. Safeword.” 

It’s a request, not a question. Geralt won’t proceed until he’s certain that Eskel is aware that he has a way out if he needs Geralt to stop. Eskel huffs out a small laugh which falls just short of teasing. It sounds almost fond, in fact. 

“Wolfsbane.”

One of the herbs used in the Trial of Grasses, the smell of which Eskel has come to hate with a passion over the years. Geralt nods, pleased with his lover’s cooperation, trusting Eskel to use his safeword if he feels at all uncomfortable with what’s about to happen. Geralt takes a composing breath and snakes one hand at the back of Eskel’s head, where he buries his long dextrous fingers in the soft brown mane and tugs him closer into a hungry kiss. 

"I love you," Geralt breathes between them, gently biting down on Eskel's lower lip as he breaks their heated kiss, "so much."

Eskel whimpers, his body arching needily at those words. Geralt smirks, knowing just how worked up Eskel gets over hearing the three magic words. Geralt presses a final, chaste kiss to his lover's lips before sinking lower. His hands squeeze the soft layer of fat that covers Eskel's hips and abdomen. If Geralt closes his eyes, he can almost pretend that Eskel's winter blubber is not just the result of the hearty meals and Cintran ale he's been enjoying as of late… 

A possessive growl rumbles deep in Geralt's throat as he nuzzles the dip in Eskel's hip. He splays his fingers so that they cover most of Eskel's belly, pretending that the sound of his lover's accelerated heartbeat belongs to someone else, to something growing inside Eskel's belly… Geralt isn't delusional. He knows that even if witchers weren't infertile, he and Eskel could never have children of their own. Not biologically, at least. Geralt knows that, and he knows that this kink of his is ridiculous. 

And yet, here they are, and Eskel looks so willing to indulge Geralt’s fantasy. Geralt simply can't help it. 

"Geralt?" Eskel's rough baritone is the only thing that keeps Geralt from spiralling. That, and his lover's hand gently cupping his face in a silent demand to look at him. Geralt complies easily, seeking reassurance in the familiar amber orbs. "I can hear you being mean to yourself in your head. Stop that."

"You don't think I'm…" Geralt swallows thickly as he musters the courage to finish his sentence. "Weird?" 

A fond smile, one that falls just short of sad, graces Eskel's lips. He shakes his head and cards his fingers tenderly through Geralt's hair. 

"I'm glad you feel comfortable enough around me to show this side of you," Eskel assures him, "but if it doesn't feel right, we can stop. This should feel good for you, not make you feel ashamed."

Geralt knows that his lover wouldn't lie to him about this, nor would Eskel pretend to be fine just for the sake of getting Geralt off. That has never been how their relationship worked. Contrary to Eskel’s reputation as being a people-pleaser, even Eskel has his limits. It's all the reassurance Geralt needs before he fully surrenders to this unusual urge of his. 

"Don't wanna stop," Geralt grates, his voice rough with desire, "gonna fill you up with my pups before the night is over." 

Eskel’s reaction is instantaneous. The high-pitched keen that tumbles past his lip goes straight to Geralt’s cock, which gives a twitch of interest in response. Geralt’s fingers glide reverently over Eskel’s abdomen, followed closely by his lips as Geralt scatters feather-light kisses over the twitching skin. Eskel arches into the touch, whispering a string of curses under his breath as he does so. Geralt lets himself drift further and further into that corner of his mind reserved for nights like this one, into that corner that longs to breed Eskel and see him grow large with Geralt’s pups. 

Geralt’s lips travel back up of their own accord until his mouth latches onto one of Eskel’s nipples, pulling a startled gasp from his lover. Geralt presses the flat of his tongue against the areola and gives the sensitive bud a tentative suck. If Geralt concentrates hard enough, he can imagine how Eskel’s milk would taste, sweet and warm and filling. Eskel nearly bucks him off then, but Geralt’s steadying hands on his lover’s hips brings Eskel’s twitching under control. Once his lover has relaxed into the mattress and gotten used to Geralt’s suction, Geralt brings one hand up to cup Eskel’s other pec, squeezing the meat of it between his calloused fingertips. Eskel’s tits - so firm, but layered with a softness that Geralt adores - look so inviting that Geralt cannot resist temptation much longer. He switches sides, barely giving Eskel a moment’s respite before latching onto the other nipple and resuming his gentle ministrations. 

“Ger’lt… gonna-” 

That is all the warning Geralt gets before he feels Eskel’s cock twitch and spill hotly between his and Geralt’s body. The thought that Geralt made Eskel come just by focusing on his nipples has no business making Geralt’s cock twitch in the way it does. He pulls away from Eskel’s sensitive nipple with a wet ‘pop’, flicking his tongue at it one last time. Eskel looks dazed, maybe a little bit shocked at himself even, but Geralt is quick to wipe the insecurity he sees reflected in his lover’s eyes with a hungry kiss. 

“Fuckin’ love your tits, Kel,” Geralt growls between two heated kisses, “love how soft they feel under my hands, love how sensitive they are… they look so full already. They’ll get fuller once you’re heavy with my pups.”

Eskel makes a choked noise at that. He throws his head back against the pillow and lets out a needy little mewl, Geralt’s name falling from his lips like a prayer or a plea. Geralt smiles wolfishly at the sight. 

“Would you like that, sweetheart? Would you like for your tits to fill with milk until they’re nice and heavy for me? Bet you’d be leaking so easily, too. That’s okay, though,” Geralt leans in to capture Eskel’s lips in another sloppy kiss, “because when that happens, I’ll lap it all up and relieve you of the pressure. Wouldn’t you like that?”

“Fuck, Geralt!”

While Geralt is now firmly in the right mindset, he knows that Eskel won’t engage with him as much when they’re playing this game. Eskel is enjoying himself, that much is clear, but he doesn’t feel the same need to breed - or, in his case, be bred - as Geralt. Eskel’s pleasure comes from having Geralt’s attention focused solely on him, and having Geralt whisper soft praises about Eskel’s body. That’s fine, Geralt thinks to himself as he reaches for the slick he stored away in the bedside table, so long as Eskel is getting something out of this too, even if they’re both getting different things out of this game. 

Geralt gets to project his fantasies onto his lover, while Eskel gets to be worshipped by Geralt. A win-win situation if Geralt’s ever seen one. 

“You still good?” Geralt rasps just as he pops the cork of the vial open with his thumb. Eskel nods jerkily in response, his chest heaving with the force of his panting. 

“All good. Need you, Wolf, please!” 

And how can Geralt deny his lover this when Eskel begs him so sweetly? The night is just beginning. 

[cant-blink]

Half-Life, Ch. 3

Summary: Gigan takes Ghidorah on their first “date” to the bar. We learn a few things about this three-headed dragon.

-

Normally, the flight from a planet into the void of space was the most satisfying part of his mission.

The thought of the carnage he left behind, a planet burning beneath him and rendered completely uninhabitable. The complete extermination of life, the knowledge that it was all from his own hard work. He adored the strength of his wings fighting the gravitational pull, the feeling of the air thinning, and at last, the weightlessness of space.

The sight of the stars all around, promising more worlds for him to destroy. So many lives to toy with.

The wave of cosmic energy that would hit his scales, rejuvenating him. Feeding off the energy through the membrane of his wings, healing his wounds and restoring his strength for the journey ahead. Under normal circumstances, he would then cocoon himself within an asteroid produced by his own body,  reducing himself to a pure energy form. Content and happy, he would fall into dormancy, his asteroid drawn towards planets one after another until his moon-shaped crests would pick up signs of life to awaken him once more.

But this was not normal circumstances and as he flies higher through this world’s atmosphere, the only thing that coursed through him was not satisfaction, but anger, hatred, frustration...

And dread...

Breaking free of the planet’s hold, Ghidorah felt the cosmic waves flowing over him, speeding his regeneration to be almost instantaneous. The pain coursing through his back with every stroke of his wings had disappeared.

The pain in his middle head, however, remained. The injury there has healed, but the newly-active chip gave a very uncomfortable sensation. He wanted to chew at the spot, scratch at it with a foot, but he knew it was useless. Even if he could will his body to perform the action, chewing and clawing it out would only result in his own death.

Granted, death would probably be preferable to what fate the half-life had in store for him.

He kept glancing back towards the planet. He wasn’t used to leaving a world only half-destroyed. It went against every fiber of his being and his impulses fought against the mind-control in vain. Always in vain.

His glare fastened on the cyborg, and the light from the blue giant star that reflected off the metal armor was almost blinding. It was obnoxious, as was the look of expectation given to him. He wanted to just fly off in the opposite direction, just to spite him, but of course, he couldn’t. Absolutely infuriating, being trapped in a body that was no longer his to control.

At the silent order, Ghidorah felt his wings fold close and his tails moving to curl around himself. All three of his heads lowered, his legs tucked in and wings wrapping around himself. Red wisps like flames came from his scales, until it engulfed him and his body became energy. Stone began forming around him, its minerals perfect for holding his vast energy and absorbing in more cosmic rays to ensure he did not weaken during his hibernation.

At least in said hibernation, he can forget...

-

“Your name is Ghidorah. You were created to be ultimate weapon.”

Those telepathic words have been imprinted in his mind for as long as he could remember. Repeated over and over, his Masters would put these thoughts into his mind, to the point where it provided some level of comfort to the young dragon. 

And at this stage of his development, comfort was very important.

There was darkness around him, even in a well-lit sterile room beyond the membrane that held him. His eyelids were still sealed, having not yet opened to experience the light he would instinctively seek out as an adult. His ears were still closed, and his scales were soft. Occasionally, one of his tongues would flick out, but the only scent he would pick out was his own, in the nourishing goo around him. 

His only real sense was that of his well-developed crests. He could feel irresistible auras, all around him. Every so often, several of these auras would get closer, more potent, so close that his three jaws would snap open through instinct. Muscles in his chest would tighten, but the organs housing his gravity beams has not yet fully matured and held no energy within.

He would calm when the auras faded back into the noise. He still desired them, though, and every time he woke from his sleep, he would test the boundaries of his egg, kicking at the membrane uselessly. But the day will come closer, when he will be ready to emerge. Then he can snuff out those auras, and it would be amazing. 

"The Universe is a terrifying place,” the message would continue. “You will make it safer, for all of us."

Safer.

He felt pretty safe now, growing steadily within his warm confines. He had never experienced fear, or pain, and it would take several more weeks before he had his first taste of it...

He had grown substantially, easily twice the size he once was just weeks ago. His wings were growing the fastest, wrapped tight around him like an extra blanket within the membrane. Said membrane was expanding, stretching over his scales. Those scales were more developed, a distinct keeled look to each one. His eyes were open, sleepy and unfocused, but he saw the light.

He wanted that light...

Especially when he felt the aura growing stronger. His red eyes can make out movement, a blurred shadow looming by him. The impulse to lash out at it was powerful, and already two of his three jaws had opened. By now, only sparks escaped and deteriorates into the goo.

“The Universe is a terrifying place,” the message replayed again, but this time, it added more. “It’s filled with violent races that seek to destroy those who only wish to live in peace. You will be the savior that fights for those innocents, that cleanses the universe of those dark forces. But first...”

He felt something odd, brushing against the mane of his middle head. The first time a foreign object touches him. It lacked an aura, but nonetheless, his left head automatically moved to bite the thing with tiny fangs, an-

A stabbing pain came from the back of his middle head. His legs kicked out, the membrane stretching from the movement, but not yet giving out. His wings and tails push against his home, his prison, as he tried to escape the pain. 

The sharpness left just as quickly as it had appeared, but it left the pain behind, as well as a very wrong feeling. Like something foreign on his body. IN his body. 

“You will hold great power and to focus that power, we have given you a gift...”

-

Ghidorah snapped awake even before the half-life gave the signal that they have arrived. It was not often he had dreams like that, reliving such old memories. It honestly pissed him off. 

A gift, that’s what his old Masters called it. Even back then, he knew that was completely false. By ‘focus’, they meant kept under THEIR control. This damn chip and all the trouble it caused has plagued him even before he hatched! If he had lungs and the concept of sighing, he would have done so at this moment. Seems even in hibernation, he cannot be left in peace.

It takes a moment before he was calm enough to notice the presence of lifeforms, many more besides the cyborg that held him hostage. He felt the vibration of his stone cocoon, hears the muffled voice of the half-life calling out to him.

Wait, hear him? That means there has to be an atmosphere. He didn’t feel the impact of striking a planet or another celestial body.

“Wake up!” the half-life continued, still banging against the asteroid for no reason other than to annoy him, he’s sure.

Ugh, just hearing that stupid voice made him wanna go back into hibernation, much less the damn incessant knocking. But alas, he felt his own energy escape the stone, rendering it to dust before he took form. He opened his eyes, and his sight was immediately assaulted with pink. A vivid purple-pink everywhere. 

Where was he?

He looked around, the haze stretching in all directions with no sign of an end. All six of his eyes swept the area before all meeting right at the cyborg.

"The bar is over there," The half-life told him, pointing a claw towards a nearby asteroid. "Clean yourself up. I want you looking your best. Y’know, before I ruin you."

Ghidorah lets out a growl at those words, and that growl gets even louder as he automatically moved to groom himself. He always took pride in his appearance, as a dragon should. But as much as he enjoyed grooming, the fact he wasn’t doing it because he wanted to took away all enjoyment.

It isn’t made better by how the half-life was watching him. Damn thing enjoying the show? He wanted to gravity beam that face. Especially when he starts flying closer. Ghidorah felt himself go on edge, wanting to move away to keep the distance, but his body refused to stop cleaning itself.

Unfortunately, it was the half-life himself that stopped the grooming session, one of his claws once more hooking around the back of his middle head and pulling him down.

“Don’t touch me.”

“Don’t speak unless spoken to,” came the retort. “Especially with any of your damn back-talk.”

Ghidorah narrowed his eyes, especially when the crest on his forehead was touched by the half-life’s other claw. His crest was glowing quite strongly, as it tended to do when a high concentration of life-energy was nearby. They were quite sensitive and he did not like the sensation of anyone touching them, much less this disgrace of a kaiju.

He nonetheless held still as the half-life examined his crests for whatever reason before he caught a whisper.

“You feel them, don’t you? This is what you mean with your crests ‘filtering’ my presence. They never glowed this brightly for me.” The half-life’s voice had a very odd edge to it. It almost sounded like this fool was...

Was he jealous?! That didn’t make sense to the dragon. Why in the void would he be jealous over something like this? He can’t control how brightly his crests glowed; it all depended on the size and number of the lifeforms in the area! It’s not his fault this idiot had his aura tainted so badly and was hardly considered alive! But Ghidorah didn’t respond with these sharp words no matter how much he wanted to, the chip rendering his tongue frozen. All he can do is hide a wince when the claw tapped against the moon-shaped structure. 

He heard a grunt before the cyborg continued in a cold tone, despite the foul smirk on his beak. “Remember when I said we can kill a few folks here? I lied. For once, you’re going to have some damn self-control and not kill any of them. Got it?”

There was a slight widening of his eyes. Never before has he been given an order that so blatantly went against what he was created for. His old Masters, every other alien race that took advantage of him, wanted him to kill. Sure, they wanted specific targets killed, but killed nonetheless. But this... IDIOT decides he was going to waste his time, waste his talents, for... WHATEVER it was that one did at these ‘bars’. He was convinced the cyborg was only doing this to irritate him further, and it was working! If he wasn’t pissed off before, he definitely was now!

“Yes.” That word still escaped him, monotone and lacking any of the anger fuming within his mind. And it only gets worse when it rouses a snicker from the half-life and he felt that metal-coated beak touch the scales of his snout. The left mandible seemed to caress under his jaw, the cyborg moving it side-to-side against his skin. He wanted to pull away, willed every fiber of his body to get him away, but he can’t move. 

“You missed a spot.”

What was that supposed to me-

He froze when he felt something wet and warm slide against the scales of his face. His right head could see the half-life running his tongue along his snout and lips. He had no idea what to do with this, as nobody has ever made such moves towards him before. He didn’t like it, at all! He wanted to bite, to blast the half-life in the face, push him away with his heads. ANYTHING!!

But he can’t do anything, except endure.

He closed his eyes, all six of his eyes, just counting the seconds for this to be over. He felt the creature’s tongue push into his mouth, and the urge to bite down and tear it off was through the roof! It was so damn frustrating, and the seconds crawled slower in his mind before finally, the half-life pulled away.

“Hm,” he heard from the cyborg, his middle-set of eyes opening to see the face just inches from his own. The glare he gave was intense, but the other kaiju doesn’t seem bothered. If anything, the half-life seemed encouraged to rest his beak on his nose as he chuckled. “We’ll work on it~.”

Ghidorah didn’t want to work on anything except this thing’s death. How DARE this inferior creature pulled such a stunt with him, and to think, it was only going to go downhill from here! Swear, for every second he had to wait during that, he was going to make the cyborg suffer ten times longer when he breaks free from this! But he couldn’t speak any of the thoughts going through his mind. Damn this chip, taking away everything including his voice!

He felt the claw holding his head down slide off, the edge teasing the fur of his mane before the creature turned away.

“Let’s go.” 

He flew towards the asteroid he pointed out the bar being on. Ghidorah lingered where he was for a moment, but alas, his wings gave a flap through the atmosphere and followed after him. 

-

“Hey, McLegsalot!”

“Don’t call me that,” came the retort as Gigan sat down and made himself comfortable. A winged centipede-like kaiju squinted ten beady eyes at the cyborg, his antennae brushing over his face and chest. The four pairs of arms cleaning the glasses slow to a halt. “Gigan?”

“Scolopendra. Long time, no see. Loving my new look?”

“This is what you’re doing to undo your ban? Slap on a new paintjob and pretend you’re someone else?”

“Nah, if I was going to do that, I’d put on chainsaws instead of these,” Gigan responded, lifting the blades on his arms. “Less obvious that way. Anyway, what’s a little ban between friends, huh? Mind giving me the usual?”

“I’m not giving you anything. I-” The centipede cuts himself off, glancing off to the side before muttering. “Look, man, I ain’t losing my job over this. Last time you were here, we had to rebuild everything from the ground up thanks to your little drunken tirades. Like hell, we’re doing all that again.”

Gigan waved a claw dismissively. “Don’t worry your pretty little antennas over it-”

“It’s antennae, you dumb fuck.”

“-I’m not here to make a mess. I just want a nice, quiet time. Honest. So-”

“HA!”

“-Soooo,” Gigan drawled, refusing to back down from this little game. “Why don’t you just give me a drink and we can carry on the night like usual.”

“What part of ‘you’re banned from this establishment’ do you not understand? Hell, if Mr. Mavex finds you here-”

“And I told you, not to worry about it. Your boss won’t even have time to think about you, much less fire you.”

“Pretty sure that’s not how this works.”

“It will, trust me. Y’see, I brought along a date an-”

“Oh, for fuck sake, Gigan,” the centipede interrupted, shaking his head as the cyborg glanced over his shoulder and gave a loud shrill whistling noise. “How many times do I have to say this, I’m not going to...”

The centipede’s voice trailed off, as all the patrons within a ten-mile radius suddenly went quiet. A very large three-headed silhouette loomed at the entrance towering above all other customers, long serpentine necks lowering as Ghidorah entered the doorway. Gigan found the silence to be amazing, and he gave a smirk as the many-legged kaiju reared up to eye-level with his four clear wings fanned out. Typical defensive stance, never gets old seeing it.

“I’d like you to meet Ghidorah,” he started in a smug tone. “King Ghidorah. I’m sure you’ve heard of him, yes?”

At once, everyone made a hurry to vacate the vicinity, as Scolopendra glared at the cyborg. “You led that thing right to us! Are you insane?!” Gigan knew he didn’t have to answer that, but he does anyway with a cheeky little grin.

“Only a little.”

He glanced back at Ghidorah, whose six eyes were locked on the smaller creatures fleeing from him. He can see the spark of bloodlust in those eyes, the familiar instincts to give chase and end them all. But as expected, the dragon could do no such thing. At least-

“Now, about that ban...” Gigan continued casually, as everything ran amok behind him. “I told him not to do any harm to anyone, but if you really insist on denying me drinks...” He reveled in the angry look the bartender gave to him and he settled his blades on the bar, propping himself up a bit as he leaned closer. “I’ll take the usual, yeah? For two.”

Those eyes stay locked on him for a long moment before Scolopendra finally backed off and went to prepare his drinks. That’s more he liked it and he leaned back on his seat. “Glad you can listen to reason, Legs. I’m sure your boss will too.” He heard a nasty grumble from the bug but he disregards it as his eye returns to his golden prize, who was now staring at the bartender intensely. 

“Hey,” he called out, earning the dragon’s attention. He nodded towards the chair beside him. Ghidorah glanced towards it and wandered over. It was adorably awkward, watching the dragon attempt to sit on a chair that was too small for him. Gigan couldn’t keep in a chuckle. “Lean on me~”

It still delighted him, that Ghidorah could do nothing to resist his orders. He felt the hydra press up against his side, those scales felt cold compared to their surroundings, but the cyborg didn’t mind. He nuzzled his beak against that golden hide, his mandibles nipping playfully before the bartender returned with his order.

“Good man,” Gigan snickered, his tail moving to clasp onto the glass. He caught Scolopendra eyeing at the dragon as he placed the glass down in front of him, and he was quick to show off his prize. “Told you I had a date.”

“A date?” Scolopendra responded skeptically. “Or another one of your meatshields?”

“Hey, hey, no need to be like that.” Gigan gave a chuckle as he took a sip of his drink. Ah, still tasted the same as he remembered. He took a bigger gulp. “And what do you mean, ANOTHER meatshield? Don’t act like you don’t miss those old days. All the plundering and pilfering, great times.” Another gulp. “Not my fault you got yourself trapped in here.”

“Pretty sure it was,” the centipede grumbled. “When you threw me under the bus while you ran away like a coward.”

“Like a pirate~.”

“Like a coward.”

“Meh, don’t take it so personal, Legs. I was going to come back for you, but you were already gone and now...” Another swig. “Who am I to tell you this ‘honest’ life is boring? After all, you're giving me free drinks.”

“This piece of work...” Scolopendra hissed with another shake of his head, before looking to Ghidorah. “And you’re dating this? What do you even see in him?”

The cyborg gave a short, sharp laugh as he brought his glass back up to his beak for another go, intending to respond for his partner when-

“No, I’m not ‘dating’ him.” Gigan heard Ghidorah growl softly and he sputtered mid-gulp. But the dragon doesn’t stop, maintaining direct eye-contact with him with all six eyes. “The half-life coward did the same to me, tried to abandon me in a fight. Watching Godzilla blast him out of the sky was the single most satisfying thing I’ve ever seen.”

Moment of silence, as Gigan glared towards his slave harshly. Didn’t he tell this asshole not to speak unless spoken t-

Dammit, Scolopendra spoke to him and now this bastard was taking every advantage of it to ruin everything! Well, two can play at that game. Glancing at the centipede, who was now giving him a Look, he pushed the drink closer to his partner.

“Heh, stop kidding around, babe. Tell the bug you’re joking.”

The smirk returned to Gigan’s face as Ghidorah did as told immediately. “You’re joking.” AND that smirk died just as quickly as it appeared.

Oh, this smartass mother-fuckin’ piece of-

Without warning, he struck a blade across the chest of the dragon, who jolts back and loses balance from his chair. The ground trembled from the impact as he fell, and Gigan gave his partner no time to recover as he stomped a foot onto the gash he left. This earned a pained snarl from the dragon, but Ghidorah does nothing to retaliate as the cyborg once more hooked a claw around that middle head, leaning in to hiss directly into this asshole’s ear.

“How about this: You don’t speak, at all, unless I directly address you. Now shut up, and drink your damn glass.”

They continued to lock glares for a moment, before Gigan lets him go and sits back on his seat. Ghidorah took a moment to get up, blood seeping from the wound but he does nothing to tend to himself. He instead looked at the drink, glanced at Gigan’s glass, then back to his own. The middle head leaned down and a forked tongue slips out his mouth and barely brushes the surface of the drink.

“Well?” Gigan persisted impatiently. “I said, drink.”

The dragon growled but said nothing as he began lapping up the drink. And no sooner had he done that, that he began gagging and what liquid he managed to swallow came right back up, seeping from the corners of his mouth. He opened said mouth and allowed it to spill its contents onto the bar. 

“Oh, what the hell!?” Scolopendra barked, jumping back as the puddle sparked for a moment before petering out. The multi-legged kaiju shot a glare at the cyborg. “You said no messes!”

“Oh, ho~!!” Gigan chortled, ignoring the bug. “Didn’t take you to be THAT much of a lightweight! Or does it really taste that bad?” He shot Scolopendra a teasing look, but the centipede was having no more of his shenanigans, leaving the mess with them as he resumed cleaning glasses on the OTHER end of the bar. Meh, whatever, Gigan had better entertainment next to him. “Drink the whole thing, babe. It gets better as you go.”

His tail clasped Ghidorah’s glass, holding it to the dragon’s lips. Of course, Ghidorah couldn’t refuse and opened his mouth to receive the drink. And no sooner did it go down his throat than his stomach gave another heave to expel it. Well then...

“Seriously, it can’t be that bad,” Gigan grunted, glancing at the glass. He was a little bit annoyed that his new partner was having this reaction to his favorite drink. “Is the taste too strong for you?”

Ghidorah glared at him with venom before responding in that beautiful monotoned voice. “I taste nothing.”

...

Gigan would blink his eye if he could; he wasn’t sure what answer he was expecting to hear, but that certainly wasn’t it. Was this dragon serious? Who’s he kidding, of course this dragon was serious! He really can’t taste anything? Then why was he spitting it all out? Can he not drink alcohol? Did the hydra’s body take it as a toxin and thus something to be rid of? Time to find out...

“Hey, Scoli!”

“Clean it up yourself.”

“Not that, you idiot. I need you to give a glass of water. Just. Water.”

The centipede doesn’t even turn to look at him, continuing to clean before placing one of those glasses down and filling it with ice water before sliding it over to the cyborg. Gigan stopped it with a blade before pushing it pointedly towards the dragon.

“How about this one?”

“I said, I taste nothing.”

“Don’t care. You’re still going to drink this.”

Ghidorah sneered at him as he turned to the water. This time, he took it with one of his jaws, teeth closed over the glass delicately yet firmly. It looked a bit awkward to the cyborg, but he imagined the hydra didn’t have many situations where he would need to manipulate objects. Ghidorah took a sizeable gulp from it, and just as the alcohol had done previously, so too did this water. The dragon heaved and out it all came, all over the floor with more sparks.

Gigan watched this for a moment, less than amused. So the dragon can’t consume ANYTHING at all; did his creators not see a purpose in it? Well, isn’t that just great! Ghidorah really was being a pain in the ass right now, wasn’t he? All he wanted was a night of fun with his future mate, show him off, get them both plastered before the main event. But of course that can’t happen, can it? The dragon just had to make fools out of both of them. He lets out a huff, forcing a crooked smile onto his beak. He will have his fun, Ghidorah be fucked.

“Fine, more for me. Keep ‘em coming, Legs! We’re gonna be here a while.”

[pinkhairedlily]

Great Expectations

Chapter 4 of The Spring He Came Back | 4 of 12

Hinamori found herself spacing out in the middle of chores for about a month now. She would be cooking miso soup, and her mind would trail to their conversation on the hill. She would halt in front of the daffodil meadow on the way back from the market and reminisce in the midst of stalks yet to flower, counting down to the third month. She also stopped going to the library because of a growing resentment. If she didn’t bring Hitsugaya there, he wouldn’t have found the book, and he wouldn’t have left. She wondered if she had the right to feel this way, to feel like she lost a friend or a family.

The money from Hitsugaya’s generous allowance came in every end of the month through an academy representative. Baba’s refusals fell on deaf ears, but Hinamori knew she was grateful for the financial support.

True to his promise, Hitsugaya sneaked out of the academy on his third month and met Hinamori on the meadow. He saw her black tendrils flowing with the yellow petals. “Oy, Hinamori.” For a time, it would seem that the gears were running in normal shifts.

This went on for the next three years. Hinamori was given glimpses of his newfound life – of an increasing circle of friends that consisted of a noisy Rangiku, stubborn Rukia, and glutton on steroids Renji. For every encounter, their childhood memories and laidback banter on the yellow field were being replaced by tales of his experiments and model construction with Dr. Kuchiki, the culture shock to the life of the brightest, and the cutthroat competition in academia. For every encounter, he seemed more and more different, but he never let these get the best of him. After all, his silver hair was still shaped like a broomstick, and he still challenged her to watermelon eating contests.

Their meetings stopped when he had to participate in an overseas internship in Karakura. Monthly letters replaced his physical presence until there were none. Exasperated because of her growing loneliness, Baba assured her it was the natural course of things.

“As we grow older Momo, we form a lot of bonds. Some becomes the foundation of our nature and identity while others are circles at certain phases of our lives.” Baba gave her a cup of black tea with a dash of honey, her favorite brew. “There comes a point we grow out of those circles and seek the next set of bonds. The rarest of all, those bonds that accompany you forever.”

“I thought we were his family, Baba.” There was a burning feeling behind Hinamori’s eyes, and she felt a headache forming.

Baba stared at her wistfully and tucked a loose tendril behind her grandchild’s ear. “If you’re so adamant to keep those bonds, why won’t you walk beside him?”

Hinamori shook her head vehemently and slapped her palms on the table. “Baba! I will never leave you. Please stop saying that!” Some of her black tea spilled. “Besides, the academy is invitation-only, remember?”

“Momo my dearest and only, I’m almost 70. I’ve lived a good, full life so far, and I want you to live like that as well. I don’t want you shackled by your past or be burdened by taking care of me. The world is bigger than this town,” Baba chuckled to herself as she took a sip of her tea. “Besides, I have reliable neighbors who will take care of me. We have a telephone now so we can always communicate. Wondrous technology. Oh but you have to teach me.”

“Baba, stop it. The academy is not accepting low-tier students like me.”

“Oh Momo. Just throw it out there and the world will right itself.”

Baba’s wisdom never failed. When Hinamori became 15 years old, the academy opened its gates to the common folk. The complaints about accessibility and inequality probably got to the administration. Investments in the town kept pouring in, demand for residential space was increasing, the clamor to enter the academy regardless of social status eventually gained traction. While the invitation and referral arrangements still existed, the opportunities leveled through general admissions. Well, not quite. The examinations were grueling, and the interviews were tricky to answer. They asked outright for research proposals and the field of specialization one was interested in. On top of her head, Hinamori stated her concentration on terrestrial ecology. Actually, she just wanted to create perennial daffodils so their meadow would be yellow all year round, no matter the season.

Hinamori passed the screening. General admission passers were granted wider freedom but lesser privilege. They were not restricted to stay in the dorms and had normal class schedules that didn’t involve laboratory and experiments on weekends. On the downside, they were provided lesser amount of allowance (good for family of three) which Hinamori was still thankful for. They weren’t also allowed to venture into the buildings of the core members. From her initial grant, she bought a bicycle to make her trips faster and quicker across opposite end of the town. It was an unstable feeling, landing on shifting grounds, but soon enough, she found her balance.

I’m in. I’m inside the academy’s gates. It was an exhilarating feeling of great expectations and humble beginnings.

Only 100 students were admitted in the winter. Amid the flurry of post-inauguration activities, Hinamori saw the familiar silver hair sticking out like sore thumb in the middle of the crowd.

He’s not supposed to be here. He was accompanied by three people trailing behind at a safe distance. She presumed they were the three Rs – Rangiku, Rukia, Renji. On Hitsugaya’s arms was a bouquet. “Oy, Momo.”

Her cheeks were flushed red. She wished she wore her hair loose instead of a bun because it had started to snow. “Broomstick Shirou-chan.” Was he taller when she last saw him? Silly, he was gone for two years.

“I just got back from my internship in time for your inauguration.” He handed her the bouquet of bright yellow daffodils, fully blooming in winter. “Congratulations.”

“Oh, I’m still taller than you,” Hinamori blurted out. “Oops. It was supposed to be a personal observation.”

“You know what, give me back the bouquet.”

“But it’s true! You probably still have the same height!”

“Momo, give me the bouquet back.”

“Won’t.” They both laughed it off, unaware of stealing glances from his company.

“Oooh is she the one you’re always writing letters to, Hitsugaya?” the blond-haired girl asked. “How sweet! Childhood sweethearts!”

“Shut up, Rangiku!”

“Oh no, we’re truly not-“ Hinamori started, but she was immediately cut off.

“Childhood sweethearts?!” the red-haired one yelled. “You mean to tell me this was fate? Wow, I’m so jealous.”

“I’m literally right here, Abarai.” The black-haired kid who was almost the same height as Hitsugaya was probably the least intense of the group. “I’m Kuchiki Rukia, by the way.”

Well, her surname certainly is, Hinamori thought. “I’m Hinamori Momo, Shirou-chan’s childhood friend.”

“Shirou-chan?!” They collectively egged him on, laughing at his clear embarrassment.

“Momo, stop using that nickname!”

Hinamori inhaled the clear scent of pine and camphor trees, reminding her of Baba cozy with her stacked fireplace and of stored jams in their pantry. She can’t wait to tell her Hitsugaya’s back. With the mended symbol of their bond on the crook of her arm, she entered the new phase of her life. Shifting grounds and great expectations.

-------

“Please greet Dr. Sousuke Aizen. He’s one of the foremost molecular biologists outside of Soul, and we are privileged to have him teach here. He will be your professor for biology. Keep in mind that you are arranged by your specialization, and he will be your mentor until you graduate in the academy,” Dr. Unohana, the academy director, announced to a class of fifteen.

Hinamori already outlined ten distinct thesis proposals in her first week. She made headstart on her readings too, already halfway on their given references for the year. If she was going to reunite fully with her friend, she needed to be a core member, and she will work hard for it.

Then, the name finally registered in her mind. Sousuke Aizen. The author of the most recent book she borrowed from the library which was also her inspiration for her thesis topics. She was engrossed with his theories, his writing style, and argumentations that she borrowed all his related books. If she was a radiologist, he was her Marie Curie. Sousuke Aizen was her teacher.

He had a magnetic presence, demanding all eyes on him. It was difficult not to notice him with his broad figure and soft tussle of dark brown hair. If eyes could smile, then he had those, albeit hidden behind square-shaped spectacles. His authoritative stance and the emanating kind disposition were confusing and difficult to compromise.

What an interesting person. Hinamori thought herself perceptive of people’s personalities based on her first impressions with them. That wasn’t successful with Hitsugaya though.

“So, should we start, or would you like me to immediately dismiss?”

It also perked up her interest that he was comfortable enough to teach without a lesson plan in hand or books. He would just talk conversationally with his students and still cover a multitude of topics. He wasn’t the stiff professor that Dr. Kuchiki was. Her classmates would seek him out after classes, asking him to join their group dinners. When she attended once, he noticed she wasn’t talking.

“Hinamori, are you still uncomfortable with your new learning setting?” Dr. Aizen asked. He gestured to refill her now empty teacup, and she obliged him with a nod. “I’ve heard you mostly got your knowledge from reading. Impressive.”

She blushed at the compliment. “I try to do my best, Dr. Aizen.”

He placed his cheek on his hand and stared at her. “You know, I also came from a rural area. Made it hard for me to mingle with the central town brats.”

Brats. She laughed at this sudden connection. “I’m also trying on that area, Sir. I made friends, but they’re on the other side of building.” Was it safe to share that?

“Oh, you have friends from the core Soul group? Fascinating. That means you’re really interesting Hinamori.” He smiled at her, tapping the empty tea pot. “You can talk to me anytime. My office is open for any concerns, academic or otherwise. I want you to know I can be on your friend list.”

The fact that he related to her situation made her happy. A renowned professor with the same roots as her still managed to get to the top. She felt seen. By the end of the semester, Hinamori volunteered to be his research assistant.

NEXT CHAPTER | 5 OF 12 | WANTING VALIDATIONS

[islamicrays]

Salam, the guy I like is engaged to someone else and I am heartbroken. When Will it be my turn? I am so ugly and fat

Walaikum Assalaam

Marriage is something that will happen when Allah subhanahu wa ta'ala wills. It doesn't matter how you look if Allah subhanahu wa ta'ala has written something for you then you will get it. I have seen many beautiful sisters but they are facing problem in getting married. Marriage will happen when Allah subhanahu wa ta'ala wills. It's just matter of time. Pray to Allah subhanahu wa ta'ala that He grant you a righteous spouse who will be the coolness of your eyes.

If you are fat but healthy then that's good. Love yourself. But if you are not healthy then better to lose weight because those who have higher BMI; they are at greater risk of having diseases. If you make the intention to lose your weight so you can worship Allah subhanahu wa ta'ala in a more better way then you will get the reward as well in shaa Allah.

The best remedy is to keep yourself busy and to be in His rememberace. When you get thought of him seek refuge in Allah subhanahu wa ta'ala. Fix your prayers and make your relationship stronger with Allah subhanahu wa ta'ala. Think of ways how you can improve your relation with Allah subhanahu wa ta'ala. Help your mother in the house. Be good to your family members. Do activities in your free time. Do dhikr all the time. It will help you in shaa Allah

First we need to attach ourselves to Allah then we can easily detach from others. We need to balance the love of Creator and the Creation. Keep the love of the creation in your hand and the love of Allah Subhanahu wa ta’ala in your heart that’s difficult to do but with time you will learn. For this we need to make dua and love for the sake of Allah Subhanahu wa ta’ala

“Call on your Lord when your heart is brittle, that is a time when it’s in pieces and the Light of Allah can fill the gaps. That is why Allāh is with the broken hearted.”

-Shaykh Hamza Yusuf

“The fastest way to heal a broken heart is to find someone better to love, and love more. Know that sometimes heartbreak happens just to push you to Allah.”

-Yasmin Mogahed

Fix your prayers and ask Allah Subhanahu wa ta’ala for the help. Always remember that Allah Subhanahu wa ta’ala plans are better than our wishes. Make lots of dua and while asking Allah Subhanahu wa Ta’ala always say “if it’s good for me” because we don’t know what’s good for us only Allah Subhanahu wa Ta’ala knows.

“But perhaps you hate a thing and it is good for you; and perhaps you love a thing and it is bad for you. And Allah Knows, while you know not.” (Quran 2:216)

Advice from Hadia Alia on moving from a ex boyfriend

“Moving on from an ex-boyfriend can sometimes be very complex. Every situation is uniqe and will require different actions. Here are a few tips to get over him:

Cry. It is ok to cry if you want as it feels better when you let all the emotions out instead of keeping them bottled up inside you forever.Talk to someone you trust. Sometimes you just need someone to listen rather than offer advice. Even you cannot understand why it happened, talking about it can help you accept that the relationship is over.Get the help you need. A breakup can have serious negative effects on your mental and physical well-being, especially if you find that you are still dwelling on it months later. Breakups have been associated with weakened immune systems and an increased risk of illness. People who have not gotten over a breakup within 16 weeks can even experience physical changes in their brains that reduce their motivation, concentration, and emotions. A therapist can help by listening to you, encouraging you to confront your feelings, and teaching you new ways to do with your pain.Remind yourself to let go. There are variety of behavioral techniques you can try to stop thinking about your ex. All of these techniques rely on your ability to recognize when a thought about your ex enters your mind and to take a specific action to stop that thought from coming back. Remember that these techniques are to be used for obsessive thoughts only! If you have not yet dealt with your feelings and taken the time to grieve, you should not try to suppress your thoughts.

– You can try wearing a rubber band around your wrist and snapping it each time you think about your ex.

– You can write down the thoughts you are having about your ex on a piece of paper and then throw it away.

– You can try a visualization exercise, which requires you to visualize a specific scene whenever a thought of your ex occurs to you. For example, you could think of a stop sign in order to remind yourself that you need to stop what you are doing. If you do this consistently, the association should become automatic.

Focus on taking care of yourself. In order to boost your mood, it’s important to practice healthy habits. Make sure you exercise regularly and get plenty of sleep. Committing yourself to a healthy lifestyle will not only make you feel good, but it may just offer you the escape you need from thoughts about your ex

– Start praying five times. It will help you to regain your positivity and let go of the stress associated with your breakup.

Remember, you are strong and can get over him if you really want to.”

Always remember this:

“No amount of guilt can change the past and no amount of worrying can change the future. Go easy on yourself for the outcome of all affairs is determined by the decree of Allah. If something is meant to go elsewhere, it will never come on your way, but if it is yours by destiny, from you it cannot flee.”

-Umar ibn al Khattab (Radi Allahu Ta’ala Anhu)

On healing broken hearts:

If you are trying to get over a person you can’t be with, treat it like an addiction:

1. Cut yourself off from the drug completely: Cut off all communication and reminders–even if that means blocking numbers, emails, a Facebook profile, and stop checking their Facebook! This is your detox.

2. Replace it with something better: Increase in your thikr (remembrance of Allah) and get closer to Allah. If you aren’t praying your daily prayers, fix that. Pray all and pray on time. Pray qiyam in the last third of the night (just before fajr). Make duaa, tawbah (repentance), cry, plead to Allah. This is your treatment.

(Yasmin Mogahed)

Unlawlful love before marriage…

Ibn al Qayyim al Jawziyyah (rahimahullah) mentions in regards to unlawful love before marriage (i.e. haram sexual relations, or love for someone who you are unable to marry).

“And the cure for this deadly illness (i.e. unlawful love before marriage) is for the person that is afflicted to realise that this love is only due to his/her own delusions and ignorance.

So upon such a person is to first and foremost strengthen their Tawheed and reliance upon Allah, and secondly to increase in worship and busy themselves with it, so much so that they do not have any spare time letting their minds wander and think about their beloved.

And they should call upon Allah to protect them and save them from this evil, just as Prophet Yusuf called upon Allah and he was saved. And they should do as he did, be as he was, in terms of ikhlaas (sincerity) and remembering Allah in abundance.

This is because if the heart is filled with ikhlaas for the sake of Allah, there will be no space left for any unlawful love to be present, rather this only happens to a heart that is empty and has no ikhlaas whatsoever.

And let such people remind themselves that whatever Allah has decreed for them is only in their own best interests, and when Allah commands something it is never to cause harm or misery to His slaves.

And let them also remind themselves that their unlawful love does not benefit them, neither in this world or the hereafter! As for this world then they will be so preoccupied with their love that it will cripple them and will cause them to live in a fantasy world. And as for the hereafter then it will cause them to be preoccupied with the love of the creation instead of love for the Creator!

These people need to be reminded, that the one who is submerged in something will never see it’s ill effects, neither will the person who has never experienced such things. The only people who will be able to relate to them are those who have experienced the same thing but have been saved. Such people can look back and realise how evil it is.”

Recite Astaghfirullah as much you can.

Following are some dua for marriage:

1.“Our Lord, grant us from among our wives and offspring comfort to our eyes and make us an example for the righteous.“ (Quran 25:74)

2.”Rabbana aatina fi’d dunya hasana wa fi’l aakhirati hasana wa qina `adhab an-nar.” [O Lord! Grant us good in this life, and good in the next, and save us from the torment of the Fire] (Qur’an, 2: 200). Recite this dua’ with the intention of marriage as it is included in the phrase “fi’d dunya hasana” (good in this life).

3.My Lord, do not leave me alone and You are the best of inheritors. (Surah al-Anbiya` 21:89)

I hope it will be helpful. May Allah subhanahu wa ta'ala guide us all to the straight path. May Allah subhanahu wa ta'ala grant you a righteous spouse who will be the coolness of your eyes.

Allahumma Ameen

[yunhoway]

Star-Crossed Lovers

Pairing: San X Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Word count: 4.2k

Watching the Sun radiating its comforting rays brought peace in your soul. Even though you couldn't see his body due to the Earth situating in between you and the planet, you could feel his warmth. Most of the inhabitants on Earth enjoyed the fact that it was daytime, for they often engage in exciting activities during that time with their fellow companions. They were always out when the Sun was up. One thing for sure, the Sun was everyone's favourite.

Unlike you.

With the night sky accompanying you, you rarely saw the citizens out of their homes even though you illuminated the land just fine. The very few people who were out in such twilight hours were often the lonely and ostracised ones seeking for your company. These people didn't say much; just staring at the starless sky occasionally hoping that the forlorn feeling disappeared. It was depressingㅡyou had to admitㅡbut if your presence soothed their souls, you could at least provide that. It wasn't like the rest of their population appreciated your presence anyway.

It was understandableㅡyou believedㅡfor the people to not value the Moon the same way they did for the Sun. Who would have wanted to go outside when it was dark? Although you did provide some illumination for them (which by the way, wouldn't be possible without the Sun), it was still dark outside to do something productive. Furthermore, it was dangerous to play outside when the people often relied on the natural sources for light. 

"What'cha doing?" Disrupting your train of thoughts, the asteroid casually asked as he floated freely next to you.

"Nothing much, Wooyoung. What about you?"

"Barely escaped from Jongho's cold stare," he recalled his encounter with the Uranus. "That guy needs to chill, metaphorically of course. He looks like he was about to kill me or something when I was just joking!"

"And what joke did you exactly say?" You quirked your eyebrow.

"I just said 'Hey, Jongho, don't you think it's funny that the humans call you Uranus? Get it? Your anus?'. Damn, I was really laughing like a maniac earlier but he responded with a glare!" Wooyoung moved closer to you. "Don't you find it funny too?"

You shook your head in mock disappointment, "If Jongho decided to kill you, I'd said you deserved it."

"How could you?!" He gasped dramatically. "Aren't you supposed to be by my side?! You're San's lover, and as his best friend, I should have your support!" You chuckled, "Try telling him your encounter with Jongho, and see if he responses positively."

"Fine! Just you wait!" He firmly said. "And oh, Yeosang, I think you should hang out with Jongho more. Maybe that'll cool you down."

Before the Venus could even retort, the asteroid had already escaped once again. Yeosang huffed.

"I swear to god, he's been getting on my nerves even though I tried ignoring him!" He then faced you. "How can you even handle that annoying prick?!" You shrugged, deciding not to comment since you knew any opinions wouldn't be appreciated at the moment. He'll be fine eventually, you thought. Just then, you spotted two familiar entities approaching your way.

"Hey, Y/N!" Both Yunho and Mingi said in unison. "How's the people tonight?"

"Not many are awake."

Yunho and Mingi looked at each other for a moment, sharing a telepathic message before they nodded at the same time.

"That's fine," Yunho spoke with a cheery tone. "We'll just send one meteor to Earth and see if there are people lucky enough to make their wishes."

Mingi then pushed one into the Earth's atmosphere, letting the meteor free falling as it recorded the humans' wishes along the way.

~~~

When you finally had a glimpse of the Sun a few days later, your lips naturally curved upwards. It had been a while since you last saw him. San didn't noticed you peeking from the Earth, for he was concentrated with listening to his friend. Watching San's expression intently, you could faintly hear Wooyoung sharing his encounter with Jongho. San was nodding throughout, furrowing his eyebrows at one point before his face scrunched up with mirth. As if knowing that you had been watching them, Wooyoung suddenly turned to face you, giving you a smug face.

"Hah! You heard that?!" You heard Wooyoung shout, causing the Mars to stir from his sleep due to the noise. Seonghwa slightly opened one eye, and when he noticed Wooyoung, he shook his head in disdain before facing the other way. San flashed you a loving smile, in which you couldn't help returning too. Wooyoung seemed to realise that your eyes were not exactly at his, and when he turned back to San, his friend displayed a lovesick expression as San gazed at you fondly.

"Ugh, is this what humans call 'lovebirds'?" Wooyoung groaned in disgust. Nevertheless, neither you nor San were bothered by Wooyoung's remark when the two of you were head over heels for each other.

"Whatever, I'm leaving," Wooyoung announced, in which his friend gave him an amiable smile before San's attention was back on you.

"What are you doing?" You remarked telepathically when San sent you a flying kiss.

"Showing my love for you, of course." He winked.

As much as you want to hide the warmth in your cheeks, you know you couldn't when his rays were able to reach you and feel the sudden change in temperature. And of course, he took pride in making you blush with his affectionate displayㅡeven teasing you about it.

"Love, why are you so shy suddenly?" San cheekily inquired.

"I'm not, my dear~" You knew there was no point in denying it, yet you found it hard to admit that you were clearly affected by him.

"Really?" He raised an eyebrow. "Then why are you heating up right now?"

"Well..." you quickly dug up an excuse. "Your rays were too warm!"

"Oh, should I stop projecting my rays on you then?"

Your eyes widened as you quickly responded, "No!"

With his lips stretching further upwards while his eyes resembled your crescent moons, San was obviously having fun messing around with you. You faked a pout as San continued to laugh at your embarassment.

"My dear, why are you doing this to me?"

"Because I love you so much." The laughter ceased as he gazed earnestly at you. "I can't wait to hold you in my arms again, my love."

His confession had led the two of you to yearn for those small yet precious moments of San embracing you. The solar eclipse was the only event which allowed both of you to do so, hence San always found himself longing even more once the two of you parted yet again. It was probably this reason which caused San to treasure every moment of him enfolding you.

"It won't be long before the eclipse arrives, my dear." You gave him a faint a smile. "Just be patient for a little longer."

~~~

Every time the eclipse approached, you smiled yet cried. Smiled because you could finally return to his comforting warmth, yet cried because you knew very well that people hated to see you two together. They often prayed for the Sun and Moon to stay apart, for they believe seeing you together spelled trouble. Some even hurled rocks towards the sky in an attempt to chase you off. Although you couldn't exactly feel the physical pain from it, it hurt you nonetheless to see them hating you with a passion.

"What's wrong, my love?" San inquired when he noticed you downcasted.

"Nothing, my dear." You faked a smile. "Just feeling a little extra lonely lately."

"Be patient, love." He reassured. "When the eclipse comes, we'll be able to be together once again."

You wished you had his optimism, but a part of you thought that he had been able to be positive when the people always celebrated his presence. A part of you envied that he got to feel the people appreciating him. Your presence only brought the loneliness and sorrow out from the people. They rarely regarded your presence, treating you as if you were just another being floating aimlessly in the sky. Heck, even Wooyoung who sometimes flew past the Earth had been appreciated by them (although it was often that they mistook him for a shooting star).

"You're sad again." San noted, disrupting you from your negative thoughts. You laughed it off, "It's nothing, dear."

He knew you were lying, yet he didn't comment further about it. San knew you believed that he wasn't aware of the reason behind your sadness, when in fact, he noticed every little expression of you whenever you looked at the humans. It didn't help that the villagers were preparing with great efforts in what he assumed going to be the greatest event ever in history. He was afraid that with more people gathering to insult the eclipse, you were bound to get hurt even more.

San's words were soon a reality, for the citizens started denigrating your presence even when you and him barely converged a few days later. And it angered him more that he had to witness you shed your tear when you should be happy meeting him.

"Please don't cry, my love." It broke his heart to see you so despondent.

"I'm sorry..." You hid your crestfallen expression from him. "I'm sorry for inconveniencing everyone."

"Don't ever say that," he sternly warned. "You're never an inconvenience, especially to me."

Once you two were close enough, he didn't hesitate to hug your figure, covering your ears from the incessant insults thrown at you. Nevertheless, you heard them loud and clear, causing you to shed even more tears while hiding in his embrace.

"Shh..." San cooed. "You're special to me, and you will always be my everything."

He continued to whisper sweet nothings, hoping that it would silence the abuse which were penetrating your head. Eventually, you roughly wiped your tears once you pulled away from his embrace.

"You need to let me go now," you said.

"No."

"San, please!" You begged. "Or else they're going to hate me more."

He wasn't done with showering you with his love, yet he admitted that you were right. His hold on you eventually weakened, allowing you the freedom to orbit normally again. And when you completely escaped from his touch, San was already missing you greatly. You gave him a sad smile, knowing all too well of the feeling. At the same time, San was infuriated, especially when the inhabitants on Earth were holding large celebrations once the eclipse was over. His anger took over him, leading him to project his rays with greater might.

"San, don't," you urged. "You're going to harm the people on Earth."

"They deserve it!" He snarled. "They should learn not to treat you like that!" You couldn't return to him, because it would only upset the whole system by doing so. Unable to convince him any further, you slowly orbited as usual, hoping that he would cool down eventually.

It seemed your hope didn't come into fruition, for he had caused the lands to suffer droughts and the heat unbearable for the humans as the Earth continued to orbit. This time, San was determined to teach 'these imbecile beings' a lesson despite your numerous times to discourage him. Even Wooyoung, who always find the Earth annoying, felt that it was too harsh of a punishment. Nevertheless, no one was able to convince San when he was so headstrong in his quest for retribution.

Sadly, the humans perceived this as a curse due to the prolonged eclipse. They began to rebuke the Moon even more, hurling more hurtful phrases at you despite their parched throats. You hid your tears nonetheless, afraid that your lover would inflict a harsher punishment on them. Despite the humans' cruelty, you had a soft spot for the Earth, for you would be nothing if not for the planet. Only the asteroids and the stars were aware of your tears as they floated past.

"Please don't tell San about this," you implored them, although they found it hard to mask their worry for you. Nevertheless, they obliged. The least they could do for you was to respect your wish.

~~~

You barely talked to San ever since that incident. While he was engrossed in punishing the human beings, you were busy trying to conceal your pain. San failed to realise that as the moon of Earth, you were bound to feel the intense heat he was radiating as well. You often played around with the waves at night as a form of distraction from the pricking discomfort. Tonight was no different, except for the fact that you noticed a couple at the beach.

Weird, you thought. Who would come to the beach at this hour?

As you listened to their conversation, you soon realised that they were forbidden loversㅡmeeting at such an ungodly hour only because it was the most appropriate time for them. Your heart ached for them as you learnt how their parents hated each other to the core, restricting the lovers from expressing their affections openly. What surprised you though, was when the couple began to talk about you.

"Don't you think the Moon is lovely tonight?" The man observed. "The Moon is always there to witness our never-ending love, don't you think so?"

You almost teared up upon hearing his words. There was never once a human being spoke to you with such gentleness. Maybe you did end up tearing after all when you listened to the woman's response.

"I've always thought the Moon is beautiful. Do you think people will eventually realise its beauty eventually? I hope they do."

You couldn't resist from breaking down in tears. You wished you could grant their wish to love openly, but that was beyond your capabilities. Luckily for you though, Yunho happened to fly past you.

"Why are you crying, Y/N?" Yunho questioned.

Despite the tears running down, you beamed. You were glad that he came at the right time, even though you suppressed the urge to laugh at his confused expression.

"I know you fulfil wishes for humans who seek for you, but do you think you can fulfil a wish of mine?"

"Not sure, though," he replied nonchalantly. "But I can try."

You took a few deep breaths, calming yourself completely before you could articulate your wish clearly.

"I wish the people on Earth can appreciate the little things in life, love each other openly and rejoice at the fact that they're living."

Yunho had a sense that you were kind, but he never thought you would be so selfless. As such, he agreed to fulfil it immediately, flying around the Earth to spread the love you had for its people. When Yunho was done with his job, he returned to your side.

"Is it just me or is it hot in here? Like literally."

You hesitated to give him an answer. Knowing Yunho, he would confront San about itㅡand you didn't want that. You would rather let San do what he thought was necessary than confronting him and worsen the situation instead. However, Yunho was sharp enough to take note of your quick glance at your lover.

"It's San right, isn't it?" Yunho then noted the way you would squirm every now and then. "Y/N, what's wrong?"

"It's nothing."

"Stop lying," Yunho asserted. "Don't make me tell San about the times you cried on your own."

You sighed, "I'm not sure how much longer I can withstand the heat from his rays, Yunho."

"I'm going to confront himㅡ"

"Yunho, don't!" You quickly stopped him. "Just... don't."

"Why?!" He shouted. "Why Y/N?! Why are you making yourself suffer?!"

You flinched at his outburst, in which Yunho soon grew apologetic for his sudden release of emotion. Eventually, he heaved a deep sigh.

"Fine..." Yunho yielded. "I won't tell San for now."

"Thank you, Yunㅡ"

"But don't expect me to keep mum about it when your health is at stake," he warned, even though his eyes were showing sympathy.

The star took his leave a few seconds later, leaving you alone once again.

~~~

San's wrath seemed to have no limits, for his rays had never once weakened in its strength as the rays continued to penetrate the Earth's atmosphere. Frankly, he could intensify his rays further, but the Earth would then be annihilated and San thought that would be too easy of a punishment for the humans. San wanted to torture them, to let them suffer in his wrath. Almost all of the planets and asteroids and stars avoided San as much as possible, equally afraid that they would also become victims of his rage. Almost all except Mingi.

"Mingi!" Yunho shouted as he chased after his friend. "Do you know what you're about to do?!"

Mingi stopped on his tracks before turning behind, "Then do you expect me to do nothing after what you've told me?! Yunho, Y/N is in danger!"

Yunho was quiet for a moment. Although he knew his friend was doing the right thing, Yunho feared that a friendship was bound to be broken. Mingi didn't wait for his friend to speak, for he was already in a rush to confront San. And that seemed to break Yunho out from his trance as he quickly followed his friend.

"Hey, San!" Mingi screamed when he was near the Sun, ignoring the intense heat which the former was currently experiencing.

"Can't you see I'm busy?!" San growled, not bothering to glance at Mingi.

"Too busy to the point you didn't notice Y/N suffering?!" That seemed to catch San's attention, for his fury dulled for a moment before his eyes searched for you.

Oblivious to the commotion, you were preoccupied with your attempts to cool yourself down. Despite the pain, you didn't weep (even though the tears were precariously brimming in your eyes). You forced yourself not to cry because crying wouldn't solve the heat, and you didn't want to invite any more attention from your friends who witnessed your tears.

But San had seen it all. He had seen how hard you tried to keep the pain to yourself, how hard you tried to be less of a burden. Regret washed over him unceremoniously, for he finally realised his grave mistake. The radiations drastically diminished as he muttered, "What have I done..."

When you felt the sharp reduction of the heat, your eyes were automatically on San who was looking at you all this while. You recoiled when his rays slowly reached out for you. Although a part of you knew that San wasn't going to hurt you, another part of you was convinced that he was capable of hurting you unconsciouslyㅡespecially since you had witnessed him in his infuriating form. Eventually, you hid behind the Earth, not wishing to see San at the moment. San was left distraught when you refused to talk to him. Unbeknownst to him, both Mingi and Yunho had long excused themselves, so San was now left alone to figure out how to coax you.

Alas, San didn't have a concrete plan even when you had reluctantly revealed yourself. The humans still hated you as usual, and here he was, failing to protect you when you needed him most. You also refused to talk to him, facing the Earth as much as possible as you orbited around the planet.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N." San broke the suffocating silence between the two of you.

You never responded. San sighed. Nevertheless, that didn't deter him from attempting again for the next few days. He would speak animatedly to you, as if you two never fought in the first place. He would also try to get your attention by pointing at the glimmering stars around. Yet, you chose to stay quiet throughout, and San had no choice except to mutter an apology at the end of the day, every day.

San, however, had no clue that you were also apologetic towards him. You felt that he deserved better, and that it wasn't worth it for him to love you when he could have gone for something easier. Of course, San wasn't aware of these thoughts when you purposedly shut off your telepathic communication with him. Still, you shared these thoughts with Wooyoung, despite knowing his brotherly bond with San. It could be due to his amicable personality which allowed you to confide with him, and maybe a part of you hoped that Wooyoung would convey these thoughts to his best friend because you didn't feel confident to say them directly to San. Eventually, San was informed about it, and he didn't hesitate to approach you as soon as he heard about it.

"My love, why would you ever think of that?" His rays slowly reached out to you in an ever so gentle way.

"I don't know, San..." you sniffled. "I just don't feel like I'm worth fighting for..." Sorrow stabs through his soul when he heard your words, "Don't ever say that, my love. You're everything to me, and I'm willing to fight for you no matter what."

"Please stay strong for us, my love."

~~~

You were glad that you listened to his words, for things began to improve in your favour. The technological advancements discovered by humans had resulted them to see the Moon in a new light, and they also grew ambitious to study more about the solar system. This led you to know a new friend years later, thanks to Wooyoung who stumbled across Pluto.

"Hongjoong's a nice guy actually," Wooyoung remarked, "even though he seems reserved."

"Maybe it's because he has never communicated with anyone before," you added.

"Probably."

"Or maybe he just doesn't want to talk to you," Yeosang quipped as he nonchalantly looked at his fingernails. "You're annoying, after all."

"Hey!" Wooyoung yelled. "That's very mean of you!"

Yeosang only responded with a dismissive huff before turning away, putting a stop to that conversation.

"Meanie," Wooyoung mumbled once again before his attention was fully on you. "Are you excited for the eclipse?!"

You grew bashful at the thought, subconsciously catching a glimpse your lover who was in his own world at the moment. 

"Pfft, why are you so shy?!" Wooyoung mirthfully noted. "It's not like this is the first time you two canoodle!"

"Shh! Not too loud, Wooyoung!"

Although you didn't verbally express it, Wooyoung knew you greatly anticipated the eclipse. It was obvious that you were excited, especially since the humans had been more kind towards you and the eclipse. People barely scorned you nowadays as their praises for you emerged. You never thought you would still exist to witness this.

While the humans in the past would gather to insult you, now, the humans would watch the eclipse taking place as they marveled at the sight. "Look, Ma!" You heard a boy shouted from afar. "It's the eclipse!"

You faintly smiled. San was still holding you close as the two of you witnessed the people expressing their praises at the rare phenomenon together.

"Look at how the humans admire our love, my love," San said in a dreamy whisper.

Your back was pressed against his chest as both of you continued to stay close for a little longer. And when you two parted once again, you noticed some humans feeling disappointed when the eclipse ended. Of course, a part of you felt happy because you and the humans share similar sentiments. At the same time, you believed that the time had come for you to love openly, and there was no need for you to be envious of the attention received by San when the people also appreciated you for who you were.

"I miss you..." San confessed when he let go of you.

You chuckled upon noticing his pout, "But my dear, we barely parted."

"Still..."

From afar, Seonghwa watched the lovers interact with a contented smile. He had been supporting you and San quietly from the sidelines, and Seonghwa had always believed that your love would prevail eventually. Now that things were more or less resolved, Seonghwa was planning to sleep. But of course, someone had to ruin it.

"Hey, Seonghwa," Wooyoung pestered the Mars. "Aren't you tired of sleeping all day?"

"I'm much more tired of dealing with your energy," Seonghwa faced the other side, but that didn't stop the asteroid from continue questioning the former.

"Why~" Wooyoung whined. "I'm trying to be nice with you and this is how you treat me?! This is atrocious!"

The Mars then angled the planet in such a way where its volcano was aiming at Wooyoung. Seonghwa voice went an octave lower as he said, "Don't make me shoot lava towards you."

"Alright! Alright!" Wooyoung quickly backed away. "Geez... you're such a spoilsport..."

"What did you say?!"

Wooyoung had already took off before any lava could be spewed out from the volcano.

FIN

[mists-of-hithlum]

Finally! I did finish this, right before midnight my time. A piece for the second day of Finwëan Ladies Week that is quite a bit longer than I meant it to be.

I apologize for any mistakes, it is late and this is not beta’d. Please point out the mistakes to me if you find them because English is not my native language.

Quenya

Atar – Father

Nésa - Sister

Nolofinwë (Nolvo) – Fingolfin

Arafinwë – Finarfin

Curufinwë Fëanaro (Curvo) – Feanor

Moringotto – Morgoth

Endor - Middle-Earth

“Irimë?”

“Irimë, where are you?”

“Irimë, you were supposed to stay with me! Come back here, right now!”

Findis sighs and smooths out her blue dress. Running around up here was supposed to be Nolofinwë’s task! She really does not know why she agreed to cover for her younger brother. Her dress was made for a council meeting, not for chasing after her little sister! She nearly stumbled over its edge no less than three times while running up the stairs and she still could not find Irimë anywhere. Oh, she is not looking forward to the lecture she and Nolofinwë are going to receive from Atar.

How do you just lose a sibling? Especially in a single building? The palace of the House of Ingwe is big, yes, but not nearly big enough for Irimë to disappear like this. Or at least it shouldn’t be! Findis has spent far more time than Irimë in here. She should be able to find her sister if she sets her mind to it!

Findis is nearly ready to just give up and let her sister get up to whatever mischief she has set her stubborn head to next when her ears pick up a nearly inaudible sound. A quiet giggle, coming the door to her right. She sighs again. If her sister has sneaked into the guest rooms rooms again, she is not going to protect her from the scolding Atar is going to subject her to.

“Irimë? Are you in there?”

Only silence answers her, but the door is slightly ajar. That is all the proof she needs to walk straight into the room.

“Irimë!”

Her little sister kneels on the bed. She is wrapped in blankets and pillows, all of them not meant to be used by the bored youngest daughter of Finwë Noldoran, who is in that exact moment handling out trade agreements with the owner of this palace, Ingwë, king of the Vanyar. Findis would like to curse loudly and creative but unfortunately, the source of her problems is too young to hear words like this. And a proper lady should not curse, regardless of circumstances. At least that is what Rilmanissë keeps telling her.

“Findis! Did you come to play with me?” Irimë’s big, blue eyes gleam with innocence, but Findis knows her sister too well (and has spent too much of her afternoon climbing through dusty unused passages and abandoned storage rooms). Findis can feel the comfort and warmth Irimë feels right now without even coming near her sister or the blankets.

“No, I was searching for you. You ran away from the meeting and your brother and me spent the whole time combing the castle for you. Why did you hide here?”

“Because it’s quiet,” Irimë tells her. “No one comes here. It was a bit boring at first, but then I found the blankets.” She beams with pride. Findis is tempted to hide her head in her hands. She does not need much imagination to know how the other rooms must look but she is too tired to make an attempt at fixing it right now.

“You need to come with me, Irimë. The others are worried.”

“Oh, Nolvo?” Irimë looks even more innocent. That does nothing to soothe Findis’ nerves. “I told him already. He’s on his way with food from the kitchen.”

“And you two are planning to do what, exactly? I can not just leave you without anyone of age, you know that.”

“But we won’t be alone.” Irimë’s eyes remind her of those of a little dog, the way she looks at her older sister. “You will stay here, right?”

“Please?” adds Nolofinwë. He carries a basket full of various specialtys of the Vanyar but Findis believes to see some Noldorin cuisine too. His breathing is heavy from climbing so many stairs.

“I need to attend the council meeting,” Findis protests.

“You’re already too late for that,” Nolofinwë counters with a wide grin. “Or do you want to run down all those stairs and then arrive too late at the door, causing a scene?”

Findis sends him an angry glare. They know her too well.

“Please, Findis. A whole afternoon, just us.”

Findis is seriously tempted before the annoying bit of her head reminds her of who she has forgotten while running through Ingwë’s castle.

“What about Fëanaro? He will be angry we excluded him.” Not that her elder brother is pleasant company when he is in one of his moods – especially with Nolofinwë nearby – but he would at least deserve an invitation., if only that he wouldn’t complain afterward or plot some elaborate revenge.

“Curvo?” Findis still has no idea how Fëanaro has not murdered Nolofinwë for the epessë he so clearly despises. “Oh, he left. I think about half an hour ago? Muttered something about spending his time somewhere actually useful. I am quite sure he went in search of a forge.”

“Of course he did.” Findis can’t stop the words before they leave her tongue.

“So you’ll stay?”

“All right.” Findis lets herself fall onto the bed too and grabs a pastry.

Her father has centuries of experience with diplomacy. He will know how to handle this.

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"Irimë, did you go insane too?”

“Why? Do you not trust me?”

“I trust you, completely, and you know that,” protests Findis. “But nothing awaits you in Endor aside from fire and death!”

“How can you be so certain? Have you seen everything the future entails, nésa?”

“I do not need foresight to tell you such.” Findis feels an icy calm in her body. “Anyone with eyes could tell you that you will not stand a chance against one of the Valar.”

“Just because no one has tried before does not mean it is impossible.”

Findis recognizes the defiant look in her sister’s eyes all too well. But it is not any longer about running of in search of an adventure or the next mischief she could get up to. If she lets her sister go now, it will be her death. Findis has never posessed the gift of foresight, unlike many of her family, but mere elves will not be enough to stand against a Vala. Even if it is her brilliant, doomed, insane, genius brother Fëanaro.

“We will go, Findis. And you cannot stop us.”

The fury in Irimë’s eyes also flows in the bond Findis and her sister share since their birth. They have both tried to close it off before the confrontation but anger and worry make Findis unable to concentrate enough. She suspects it is the same with her sister.

“So Nolofinwë and Arafinwë will not abandon this foolish quest either?”

“Moringotto killed our father!” Now the final dam is broken and Irimë’s feelings unleash. Findis can feel them in her stomach, mingling with her own fury and creating a dangerous mixture. She needs more willpower than she can ever remember to stay calm.

“He was my father too.” Ice covers her voice.

“And you want to let his murderer get away with it!” For the first time Irimë rises her voice.

“Father would not have wanted for you to run to your deaths!”

“Father would not have wanted to die!”

Both sisters are breathing hard.

“Atar loved us, nésa. The least we can do for him is to avenge his murder.” Irimë is pleading. It takes Findis a lot of strength to refuse to allow those words into her heart.  She cannot afford any cracks in her decision.

“Someone has to stay here and lead our people when you all are convinced to throw yourselves as fast as possible inside Mandos!” she retorts. It is cruel and she knows it, but she is desperate. Why would nobody listen to reason?

Irimë flinches as if Findis had struck her. “So that is what you think of us, your siblings?”

The bitterness in her voice is unmistakable.

“If that is what you choose to believe, it is up to you. But I hope you will think better of me when we return with Morgoth’s head in our hands.”

She leaves before Findis can muster up any form of retort. Only her retreating back with shoulders set is visible.

Findis does not have the gift of foresight but she knows in her heart that this was the last time she will see her sister alive.

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It takes her a long time to work up the courage for what she is going to do. The bond between her and Irimë has darkened in the time they have not seen each other. The once brilliant green of her sister’s fëa has darkened to a matter green, like you would find it of plants growing in the shadow. Her own thread of the bond looks the same shade of gold as always but it is thinner than she remembers.

Findis hesitates for a moment. Does she truly want to do this?

And then, like always, Irimë manages to ruin all the plans she made in a few seconds.

“Findis?”

She startles. The bond between their Fëas has not been active since that last argument between them. After the horrors of Alqualonde Findis was not exactly feeling encouraged to seek her sister out and Irimë had always been able to out-stubborn everyone around her, even among the Noldor.

And if she is honest, then she was not sure anymore if a connection between them would even be possible. Endor is far away from Valinorë and she knows of many who’s bond is so fragile they cannot talk anymore.

“Irimë?”

She is cautious. No one could blame her. The destruction of Alqualonde is years past but she will never forget the sight of blood on those stairs.

“I… I wasn’t sure you would actually answer.”

Irimë must truly be nervous when she relapses into a way of speech she has not used since they were both children.

“Why should I have not? Despite everything, Irimë, you are still my sister. Just as Fëanaro was always our brother, no matter how he loathed to call us such.”

There is a feeling of amusement in their bond but tainted by wariness and grief. Oh Eru, so much grief.

“I have not heard that name in a long time. They call me Lalwen, here.”

“Lalwen?” The name feels strange on her tongue even if a bond between fear does not require her actually speaking the words. “A form of Lalwendë?” She had always thought her sister preferred her Father-name. A strange thought, that so many people only knew her by another name entirely.

“The Sindar here are not used to speaking Quenya. We made it easier for them and for us.”

“Why did you reach out to me, Irimë? It is not to discuss names. You are not the one of our family who was obsessed with linguistics.”

A sudden jolt of pain from the bond makes Findis flinch.

“Findis, Feanor - Fëanaro… Our brother is dead.”

“What?” It takes her longer than it should to recognize that she has whispered the word out loud.

“He fell shortly after his arrival in Middle-earth – I mean Endor.”

“No.” It is all Findis feels capable bringing into words right now. The glowing feeling of attempted comfort from the bond tells her that Irimë – or is it Lalwen, now? - felt the uproar of feelings in her fëa. “How?”

“Morgoth.” Even if she cannot see her the face of her sister, Findis can picture the disgust on it still perfectly. “That is how we are calling Moringotto in these days.”

Findis is filled with too much grief to lord a “I told you so” over her sister. She knew the moment her siblings departed that they would most likely never return, but hearing it from Irimë…

Fëanaro had never been the most pleasant of brothers and she could have not existed at all for some days in his eyes, but he is still her brother. Was. Was still her brother. Her irritating, insane older brother that had succeded at everything and infuriated the whole Court of the Noldor. Her brother who had loved his wife even after wedding much younger than it was proper. Their children and the smile on Fëanaro’s face when his sons were around him.

The way he smiled less and less after Melkor was freed. Gleaming eyes in the firelight, speaking of words promising doom to more than the one who spoke them.

“I cannot…” She takes a shaking breath. “I need to be alone right now.” She can feel one last wave of warmth from the bond, then it is silent once again. Irimë’s presence has all but disappeared. Findis closes her eyes and the sobs begin.

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“Lalwen? Are you here?”

Irimë Lalwendë, princess of the Noldor, now called Lalwen and famous for leading High King Fingon’s personal guard turns her head when someone opens her tent.

“You knew I was in here. Why did you even ask?”

Her nephew smiles. It still stings, seeing how her reminds her even more of two lost brothers when he makes that expression, but time has dulled the grief in her heart. It was likely talking to Findis that brought them once again to the forefront of her mind.

She does not know why exactly she decided to call out to her sister. She knows even less why Findis answered in truth. It cannot simply be memories from a time long past.

“There is a last meeting to be had,” Fingon explains. “I thought you would like to be present.”

“Again?” She raises her eyebrows. “I thought we discussed everything necessary already?”

“You know Maedhros. He always wants to make sure everything goes according to plans.” His smile has been washed from his face and replaced by a thoughtful frown.

Lalwen rises from the pitiful thing that has been her bed for months now. “Do you have second thoughts?”

That shakes him up. “And you say I ask stupid questions!” A hint of the old charm and easy laughter lies in his voice that all but disappeared after his father’s death.

She smiles too. Sometimes Fingon is just too earnest for his own good. The responsibility of a whole people will do that to you.

“Let’s go. There is still enough time to rest after we sent Morgoth running to the hills!”

The fact she cannot tell how much of her nephew’s cheer is faked and how much is genuine should probably frighten her, but this is a battle lost a long time ago. They will meet Morgoth on the battlefield tomorrow, for better or for worse.

“Lead the way.”

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Lalwen exchanges a glance with Fingon. They will not get out of here alive. Her nephews’ eyes tell her that he knows. They share a nod.

She strengthens her grip around her battle axe. At least they will die together. But there is one last thing she needs to do before Namo will claim her soul.

“Findis?”

“Nésa? I am in a council meeting right now. Is there another time?”

“I love you.”

“Irimë, what…?”

“Don’t forget. Please.”

Pain.

Searing, neverending pain. Oh, she hates those Balrogs.

“Irimë, answer me.”

She falls.

“Irimë, we’re not children anymore. Stop ignoring me.”

“Irimë, that’s not funny.”

There is no breath in her lungs left.

“Irimë?”

“Nésa!”

They say Princess Findis just collapsed in a meeting one day. Though many tried to find out the reason behind this, the princess steadfastly refused to share. But sometimes, you would find her standing on the highest balcony in King Ingwë’s palace and looking into the east for hours, never moving, never saying a word.

[sarahreesbrennan]

I love getting backstory for characters in your books and E.K. Johnston's Star Wars books! The Nick backstory in Path of Night was very sad. I was discussing with some other CAOS fans whether Nick's mom loved him or not, and wondered what you thought? Because in the book it seemed it could go either way!

Thank you! Backstories are tricky on TV, in that you have to find the right child actor, or put the usual actor in an Often Very Suspect wig, and you can’t backstory for everybody. Books are handy for backstory, because we can be in the characters’ heads and they know where they come from. So when I get the OK to work out backstories with the writers and share them, it’s exciting. There’s always a lot of stuff there informing the characters, making them the people we see. 

Of course there also are certain significant things that must be skirted around, because it is information to be played out the show, but that leaves a lot of fun detail for the books that can exist only in someone’s head. This is also why Nick POV wasn’t possible until Book 3. Up until the end of Part 2, he had his big Satanic secret.

Working out Ambrose backstory for Book 1, I was delighted to find out ‘that’s why the English accents’! With Book 3, I was all, ‘Amalia, I knew she was no good, no good at all.’ One doesn’t go right from ‘loving wolf caretaker’ to ‘murderin your girlfriend.’ There are many dark steps in between.

It’s notable that Ambrose and Nick show signs of being raised by strong women. (Ambrose in a more healthy way.) They live in a very sexist society, which they’re of course influenced by, but they’re able to engage with women as people and support the idea of women having power. And Amalia wasn’t the only woman who had a hand in raising Nick. 

(More about the CAOS world, love languages, and Nick Scratch’s mom beneath the cut!)

There are many dead mothers in this story, evoking the darker parts of fairytales. Unlike Sabrina, Prudence and Harvey, Nick was old enough to remember his mother when she died. Nick specifically mentions his mother in Part 2 when he’s drunk and upset (not a guy with great coping mechanisms, but where would he learn those?). He doesn’t mention his father--he talks about him as part of ‘my parents.’ He singles out his mother, who he says would have warned him. Would have tried to keep him safe, keep him from getting hurt. His mother left an impression.

Resemblances in fiction mean something. Nick looks like his mother because he is like his mother, though with key differences. And Nick loves books, and he got that from somewhere. Wolves can’t read. Books are a marker of civilisation, not the wildness of nature. His mother was beautiful and a scholar, and she taught Nick to love books.  

Yet a guy doesn’t say ‘you taught me how to love’ to his lady if he’s consciously known love before. There is this sickness in the witches’ society, in that they were enjoined to only love Satan. You can see its effect on many of the characters. (Zelda, very strongly, as she’s someone who both loves real hard and tried real hard to fit into this society.) Nick’s mother couldn’t express love to him.

So how do you say ‘I love you’ when you’re not supposed to? Well, the same way we all say ‘I love you’ without saying ‘I love you.’ Books can be love. Music can be love. Food can be love.

It’s significant that Hilda, the total heretic of the witches who loves mortals, is The Cook, who shows love by feeding people (sometimes through murder cookies, love can get intense). Sabrina and Ambrose have been fed--sometimes weird food, but always fed--their whole lives, and that means they’ve been loved their whole lives. The Academy students haven’t been fed properly, to the point where food is a bribe Hilda can use on them to get to Ambrose, and free him when he’s imprisoned. Harvey’s a kid, who learned to cook with his brother who was also a kid, so he’s not terribly good at cooking and they don’t eat vegetables but he’s trying. (Prudence’s arc in book 2 is pretty much right there when she refuses to eat at Harvey’s. Vile! Unsafe! No!) Prudence in book 1 is trying to sing perfectly, to earn Lady Blackwood’s love--which she will never get. 

Back to books, which of course I love and I adore that Nick loves them. Nick uses books as a love language. Nick’s first conversation with Sabrina is about books, and soon enough he offers her a forbidden book. (Symbolism!) He goes to the library in Part 2 when he’s distressed by a head on a platter, and in Part 3 when he’s distressed about his whole life. In Daughter of Chaos, he and Sabrina are in the library when she sings to him and he promises to really try to love. In Book 3, the first time we see him is upset, in a library in hell that offers him no comfort.

In Path of Night we get a glimpse of him as a child, in his mother’s library. He sees himself as seeking love that isn’t returned, and remembers painfully that his mother looked away from him and concentrated on her books. But that is how you read books: by looking at them. As a keen reader myself, I have ignored people when reading books! And I have not been raised in a society that forbids tenderness, and sees attention given as stolen away from a jealous god. The thing is... you can take a kid out of a library. They’re little and portable. His mother could’ve just picked Baby Nick up and deposited him out of her library. Instead she let him stay, and bragged on him to her friends. Witches can’t say ‘my kid is wicked cute and so smart.’ Instead she was like, ‘of course... a fine warlock for the Dark Lord... as expected.’ 

Sabrina wasn’t raised to be socially prepared among the witches, as is shown by her frequent surprise at their ways. But she was raised to be academically prepared--she can keep up with book discussions with Nick, who’s noted as academically their finest. In the books, I tried to note that Zelda has taught Sabrina Latin, taught Sabrina calligraphy: Zelda expresses her love by training Sabrina to be knowledgeable, because knowledge is power, because knowledge will protect her. Just as Prudence expresses protectiveness for her sisters, without talking about love, a lot of witches must have learned to express love in flawed, broken ways that could be defended as being about power, in service of Satan. A library can be huge! Nick’s mother made sure to put the right books in front of him. They had long days in a library together, not saying the things they were forbidden to say, except through silence and this shared activity. As the song goes, ‘I love it when you read to me... you can read me anything.’

On the cold mountain, and then in hell, Nick spends his time wishing for his mother’s books, wanting to read books with her again. Longing to go back to a time when, without consciously realising it, he felt loved. But the most important moment for Nick and his mom in Path of Night was when, many years after her death, he uses a spell he read when sitting beside his mother. A spell he trained himself to remember from one of her books, to get away from the mountain. To come to the Academy, where there’s a library, where there’s Prudence, and where there will someday be Sabrina. And, to the shock of many learned and powerful witches, the spell works. The poet Philip Larkin said, ‘What survives of us is love.’ 

How do you know when it’s love? It’s love when it saves you.

[thelooneytoon]

“Please, Just- Be Careful”

“Please, just- be careful.” It had been days, weeks, and yet those words were still echoing in her head. Kara’s sapphire eyes brimming with tears and ruby lips holding back words dying to tumble out as she left. She had been so close to breaking down, to grabbing Kara before she could run off and just collapsing into her arms. But she couldn’t, she wouldn’t survive Kara breaking her heart again. At least, that’s what she told herself. But even she couldn’t deny that every time the blonde hero looked at her with those drowning eyes and trembling lips, begging Lena to forgive her, to repair their relationship, her heart was torn into even tinier pieces.

Lena dropped her head into her hands as the door opened, Lex sauntering in. “Sister.”

“What do you want, Lex? I don’t have the patience for you today.”

The bald man rolled his eyes at her attitude, perching on the corner of her desk.

“I have something to show you.” Lena rolled her eyes and spun her chair around to face him.

“Can’t it wait?”

“No. Let’s go.”

“You can’t order me around, Lex. We’re not children anymore.”

“Trust me, you want to see this, Lena. Drop the attitude and just trust me.”

Lena let out a fake laugh, fingers tapping in annoyance. “Trust you? Please. I wouldn’t trust you with my lunch order.”

He grit his teeth. Enough. They didn’t have time for this. “Enough, Lena. Get up and let’s go before we miss it.” The brunette sighed, begrudgingly curious as she stood.

“Fine. I have to be back for a meeting at three.” He didn’t respond, or even look at her, as he led them to the elevator and out of the building. The car ride seemed to take forever as they headed to the outskirts of the city, Lena’s brow quirking when they entered the warehouse district. “Where are we going, Lex?”

“You’ll see.”

“I don’t have the time or patience for the intrigue.”

“You’ll see.” She repressed a groan, stubbornly glaring out the window as warehouses passed them by.

Finally, finally, Lex told the driver to let them out and wait, Lena’s heels clicking on the concrete as she stepped out of the car. She followed her brother into the dank building ahead of them, holding back a flood of questions, glaring at his back.

“Lex!”

“We’re almost there.” This time she couldn’t hold back the groan of annoyance that escaped. “Patience, Lena.” He snapped in response. Cold steel glinted up above them, an odd gun aimed at the roof with a control panel extended off to the side.

“What is this?” She circled around it, analysing every bit of evidence pointing towards its purpose she could find. Nothing good.

“It’s the answer.”

“The answer for what?”

“For everything.”

“Why aren’t you giving me a straight answer?” Crashing metal beams and roofing material caused Lena to stumble backwards, arms thrown over her face.

“Because he’s lying.” The sound of Kara’s voice caused her chest to clench, head whirling back around to take in the hero.

“Kara?”

“Supergirl. How kind of you to join us. Uninvited.”

“Lex. I know what you’re up to, and it’s not going to happen.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Kryptonian. I’m simply showing my dear sister my new product.”

“Kara! What’s going on, what are you doing here?”

“The gun, it’s mind control.” Lena flashed back to a design of her own that was called the same before coming back to the present, brow raised.

“What are you on about?” It was an accusation, telling Kara she was siding with her brother, something she never thought would happen.

“He plans on using it to make humans seek and destroy aliens. It's dangerous and xenophobic, step away from it.” Green eyes narrowed dangerously, her stance shifting and tensing.

“Don’t tell me what to do, Supergirl.” Those dangerous blue comets widened, hurt filling them. She hated the way it made her want to comfort the alien even after all the hurt she’d caused her.

“Lena, please. Just move away so I can destroy it and apprehend your brother and then we can talk, okay?”

“You’re still operating under the assumption that my last name means villain! How do you know it doesn’t patch the Ozone Layer? Or shrink the amount of pollution in the city’s air?!”

“We got ahold of the plans for it, Lee! We know what it does! Move so you don’t get hurt!” Kara wanted to shake the brunette across from her, horror at the sight of the woman she just realized she was in love with, and had been for years, was siding with the man that had tried to kill Kara and her cousin.

“Enough with the angst!” Lex cut in, “Get out of her Supergirl, before I show you the true LuthorSuper dynamic that my sister has been depriving you of.”

Kara’s eyes turned from the deep blue of sapphires to the stormy blue of an ocean in a hurricane as they moved over to Lena’s brother. “This is over, Lex. It’s not even your best plan, give up so Lena isn’t caught in the crossfire.” He barked out a laugh, sadistic amusement radiating from his every pore as he drove a blade through Kara’s trusting heart.

“Crossfire?! Crossfire! She’s not an innocent bystander, Danvers. She’s a Luthor. She’s not your friend, or a damsel in distress tied to a chair being threatened by the big bad villain. She’s my sister, and she’s standing shoulder to shoulder with me, against you.” Lena cringed at every word that left Lex’s mouth, the sentiment of the two Luthor siblings standing united against a Super going against every word she’d said in the past few years.

“Is what she’s saying true, Lex?” He wasn’t denying Kara’s claim, the way she had so vehemently a few moments ago. He was taunting and threatening and revelling in the villan image. “Is it?!”

“What’s it matter Lena? She’s proven to you she can’t be trusted, that she’s just like the rest of them.”

“Lena!” Kara cried, the battle for the woman in front of the hero

was reaching a climax. The struggle in Lena’s soul was personified right in front of her, the hero she’d longed to imitate standing before her in all her righteous glory; Lex beside her, hatred for Kara and everything she was rolling off of him in waves as his eyes burned darkly, rage bubbling beneath the surface. Both had destroyed her at some point or another, both had lied. Lex using cruelty as a shield against the hurt he’d suffered at the hands of someone claiming to be his friend, someone she could so easily become. Kara saving people over and over again despite the physical and emotional pain she’d suffered as a result to mask the anger and survivor's guilt that lurked beneath. One wielding pain to destroy, the other to protect. A choice between who she was expected to be and who she wanted to be. It would be so easy to succumb to the pain, the hurt, the anger. To let it turn her into her mother, to become her brother. “Lena, please! You know that Lex isn’t a good person, but you are! You are the best person I know.

“You’re brave and compassionate and you want to help people. I know he’s your brother, I know you want to forgive him, but please don’t let him manipulate him for his own gain.”

“Shut. Up!” Lex pulled something from his pocket, that horrid green color launching from its tip and striking Kara right in the chest. Her scream of pain wrenched Lena from her contemplative thoughts, horror contorting her face into a silent shriek as she watched Kara crumble to the ground, veins bulging against impenetrable skin in an eerie green.

“Kara!” Yes, the blonde had lied, had hurt her, and even though she’d done it with good intentions that didn’t make it hurt any less, watching the kind woman who’d been so important to her for so long writhe in pain on the ground in front of her made all of that inconsequential. “Kara!” She sped across the warehouse, heels not slowing her for a moment, hair flying out behind her dramatically. She slid to her knees next to Kara’s head, hands fluttering over the love of her life’s seizing form. Her head whirled to shoot daggers at Lex. “What have you done?!”

“Highly concentrated kryptonite. We needed her out of our hair if we were going to activate this.”

“Highly conc-“ She turned back to the alien, clutching her to her chest. “You’re going to be okay, Kara, you’re going to be okay. I’m sorry too, okay? I’m sorry for everything and I’m sorry for taking so long to say it, just please don’t die.” Blood was beginning to spread across her chest, making the symbol of the House of El indistinguishable from the rest of her suit. “No, no, no. Okay staunch the flow.” The normally level headed woman was panicking, unable to think straight as the woman she loved died slowly in front of her.

“Leave her be, Lena. It’s too late. She’s not human, and she doesn’t trust you. You and I can make the world a better place, a safer place. The only way we can do that is by making the world HUMAN.” Lena’s hands were frantically pressing against Kara’s chest as she spun to glare at him.

“You’re delusional! Kara was right and I never should’ve considered trusting you!” She brushed the blonde curls away from Kara’s right ear, pulling the comm out of where it was tucked securely and placing it in her own ear, sobbing at the sound of Alex desperately calling for her sister on the other side.

“Kara! Supergirl, please answer me! What’s going on? Kara!”

“Alex? Alex, can you hear me?”

“Luthor? What’s going on, where’s Kara, what did you do to her?”

“My brother, he-“ she was cut off as another sob tore from her throat, her lips trembling, “he hit her with kryptonite, she’s bleeding so much, what do I do?” There was shocked silence on the other end and Lena felt like screaming. “Alex, please! What do I do?!”

“Where are you?”

“Somewhere in the warehouse district, I don’t know which warehouse. Please come quick.”

“Oh I’m coming alright, and as soon as my sister is stabilised I’m throwing both you and your sadistic brother in a dark hole.”

“Tell me what to do to help her until you get here!”

“You get away from her!” The growled words ripped through Lena, reminding her of all the emotional torment she’d caused the precious woman in her arms.

“Alex please tell me how to help her, please!”

“You’ve done enough!”

“Alex, I love her!”

“If you loved her you wouldn’t have acted the way you have, you wouldn’t have let Lex hurt her!”

She cried harder at the horrible reminder of just how much of a Luther she truly was. “Kara, you’re okay.” She pressed a kiss against her forehead, hands becoming stained with her love’s blood. “I’m going to make it okay, and Alex is on her way, yeah? Kick ass Alex Danvers is coming to make it all better.”

“Oh, stop it, Lena. You’re making a fool of yourself.” And that was the last straw. She pressed a last kiss Kara’s forehead before setting her down and rising to her feet. She turned on her heel and strode over to her apathetic brother.

“You’re a monster.”

“No. I’m not. I’m doing what’s best for our planet, for our family.”

“Not only are you a monster, but you’re a fool.” Faster than Lex could blink, Lena had ripped a gun from where she’d hidden it in her suit jacket, a pocket that was designed just for that purpose keeping it safe and within reach. With no hesitation, Lena shot her brother for Kara Danvers, again.

When Alex and DEO operatives stormed the warehouse, they found Kara being tightly gripped to Lena’s chest, hand’s still firmly pressed to her profusely bleeding chest. The brunette was curled protectively around the blonde’s limp form, dark hair shielding both of their faces from the rest of the world.

Lex was collapsed next to his own invention, dark blood pooled ominously around him, clinging to his hair and clothes, a hand gun dropped a few feet from where he laid. Lena had dropped it immediately after shooting her own brother, immediately speeding back over to her kryptonian.

Alex took in the bleeding Lex and intertwined women and lowered her weapon. Several agents surrounded the man who’d caused the distressing scene, staunching his bleeding and cuffing him to the stretcher carried over to him. Danvers sped over to her sister and dropped onto the floor.

“Kara? Lena?” The Luthor woman looked up at her slowly, distress written all over her face as tears made their way over cheeks and down her neck.

“Please help her.” Alex looked down at the wound Lena’s hands were pressing against, not a single inch of fair skin visible beneath the crusted blood. So she’s succeeded in stopping the bleeding, good.

“Okay, Miss. Luthor, I need to look.” She shook her head frantically, hands tensing.

“No, I can’t move them. The bleeding was so bad.” Alex nodded once, waving over more medics.

“Okay, Lena. You’ve done a great job.” When the Luthor had first come over the comms with loud sobs and news of her dying sister, Alex had lashed out, blaming Lena for what had happened. But now, seeing the woman and how far she’d gone to protect Kara, she finally understood what she’d meant. She didn’t just love her sister. She was IN love with her sister. “We’ve got to get her back to the DEO and under some sunlamps.” The Luthor had nearly bitten off the hand of the medic who’d tried to touch Kara, so Alex put a reassuring hand on her back, desperately shoving down her own panic. The raven haired woman nodded hesitantly.

“I’m coming with.” Alex nodded her acquiescence, not daring to try and tell the protective Luthor she couldn’t accompany her baby sister.

“Alright. Let’s get her on the stretcher.” The two women helped roll the hero onto a stretcher and strapped her in, Alex having Lena straddle her and continue stifling the bleeding, knowing the woman wouldn’t be able to stop in her panic. “Let’s head out.” The DEO agents moved quickly, evacuating the warehouse with practised ease, Lena finally sliding off of Kara when they set her into the DEO ambulance and wrapped Kara’s chest tightly with gauze.

It took thirty agonisingly long minutes to reach headquarters, everyone rushing to get Supergirl properly bandaged, under sunlamps, and hooked to the proper machinery to monitor her vitals. Lena didn’t leave Kara’s side for a moment, Alex eventually leaving the two alone after a few hours of awkward silence and minimal fumbling for conversation.

After 32 terror filled hours Kara’s eyelids finally fluttered open. Her pulsing head rolled to the side only to find her view obstructed by a mess of dark hair. She struggled to raise her head to look down at the warm body curled up against her. Her heart skipped several beats when she saw Lena Luthor as lying as close to her as she could get without actually lying on top of her. “L-Lena?” She managed to cough out. The smaller woman’s head shot up, swollen and red eyes blown wide as she took in a conscious Kara.

The blonde was shocked at the state of the usually composed CEO. Her hair was a mess, the green of her eyes made even brighter due to how red her eyes were due to crying, her face paler than usual and tear tracks shined in the light of the sunlamps. “Kara?! Kara! Alex, Kara’s awake!” The blonde cringed at the way Lena’s shrieks caused the pounding in her head to worsen.

The door slammed open, a harried Alex Danvers sprinted in, nearly crying in relief at the sight of her sister awake and talking. “Kara!”

“Alex, Lena? What happened?” Lena’s head dropped in shame as Alex explained, self-loathing at the role she’d played in Kara’s injury flaring up once more.

Kara took in Lena’s demeanour and placed a finger under her chin, raising her face to meet her eye. “Lee, I don’t blame you.”

“How could you not?”

“He’s your brother, I can’t blame you for wanting to trust him. And I know I hurting you couldn’t have helped.”

Alex, taking in the scene before her, slowly backed out of the room, a small smile on her face at the sight of her sister finally in love with the right person.

“Kara…” Lena sat up fully, fidgeting with her fingers nervously. It was an odd sight, seeing the brave CEO so unnerved. “I- I have to tell you something.”

Kara swallowed, terrified that Lena was about to tell her that this changed nothing, that while she had been worried for her safety it didn’t change the fact the Kara had betrayed her trust. “Yeah, Lee?”

“I-“ Lena kept her head bowed, refusing to make eye contact with the blonde superhero. “I’m in love with you.” The words hit her like a tidal wave, nearly knocking Kara off the hospital bed they were crammed on. She froze, wide eyed and open mouthed, unable to believe that not only had Lena not told her to go to hell, but she’d said the words Kara had been desperate to hear from her for months.

“Wh-what?”

Lena slid away from her, balancing precariously on the edge of the bed. “I understand if you don’t feel the same way, especially after everything that’s happened between us, but after having you nearly bleed out in my arms, I had to tell you.”

Kara reached out, crushing Lena to her with inhuman strength in her joy, as she peppered her face with kisses. “I love you too, Lee.” Finally her lips landed on the impossibly soft ones of Lena as she poured every inch of love and adoration she could into their first kiss.

She’d go through every bit of pain again if that’s what it took to get Lena in her arms.

[theredconversegirl]

hi! i’m the anon that asked about blurbs and one shots!! i just thought of a blurb where sakura is bitten by a poisonous bug or something where the venom is slow moving (kinda like sasori’s where the victim dies within three days) but there are serious symptoms like major fatigue, graphic hallucinations and excruciating pain and while sakura is enduring those symptoms all sasuke can do is comfort her until they find a cure?? idk KSKSK im not talented enough to write this but ANGST

Hi there nonny! :) 

Thanks for sending me this prompt! I always liked the idea of Sakura or Sasuke taking care of each other in a situation like this. 

My first attempt to write this was terrible, so I took my time with the second. Also, I’m having computer issues and my writing time is limited because of that 😓

This is my first attempt of writing angst, so please forgive me if it’s not good enough 😬. I had to play a bit with what you suggested, since I think Sasuke wouldn’t wait three days to try to save her, he’d probably teleport to Tsunade asap! 😂

Hope you like it anyway! 💕

Title: “Bane” Rate: T Words: 3854 Warnings: Shinobi AU where Sasuke never left and has both arms.

📌 Read also here: Fanfiction | ao3

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bane | noun { 1. a cause of great distress or annoyance. 2. something, especially poison, which can cause death.

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This was supposed to be an easy mission.

A simple, easy, piece of cake mission – like any diplomatic mission is these days.

As the enemies surround them (not slightly concerned with stealth at all), Sasuke decides, with amusement glinting in his eyes, that nothing is really simple or easy when it comes to Team Seven – even though they are only two this time.

His hand unsheathes his kusanagi with a swift motion, and though it could help them, Sasuke doesn't bother to activate his Sharingan. He hears rather than sees the confidence his teammate has on them when Sakura turns her back to him and tugs at her combat gloves, the leather stretching around her fingers.

Despite the years apart, they both work surprisingly well together. The nearly impeccable teamwork flows like a river does towards the sea; merciless and inevitable.

There's only a moment of hesitancy where hundreds of sharp senbons rain towards him, and although he can probably move in time, Sakura uses her momentum after a kick to push him to the opposite direction.

After that, punches to the ground are synced with swipes of his sword. Right hooks with roundhouse kicks. And when it ends, hardly five minutes later, they are both panting, sharing complacent smiles.

Sasuke feels a warming feeling swirling inside him, a mix of post-battle excitement, the remnants of the adrenaline in his veins, and something else he can't really name. The light buzz accompanies him as he ties all the nukenins and sends a hawk to the Kazekage; they are still in Suna's territory after all.

The warmth dissipates, draining him instantly, when he sees Sakura swaying from foot to foot, a grimace twisting her dainty features.

"What's going on?"

She replies but whatever the answer is, it comes out as an intelligible slur. She tries again and the effort is futile. Her hands flicker green for a second, but the chakra flow cuts off, and that alarms Sasuke.

He might be wrong (and he hopes he is), but Sasuke thinks he knows what's happening to her. He has seen this reaction before – a few times in the Snake's lab, and once on the road – and every time, it was associated with the exposure of poisonous substances. It starts mostly with the inebriated state Sakura is in.

Quickly, Sasuke steps in her personal space and scans her face, neck, her bare arms, turning her around and moving her limbs like she's a ragdoll. He's looking for the point of contact, where most of the substance should still be. He doesn't find anything other than debris though, consequence of her powerful punches.

He exhales slowly, trying to concentrate on their next steps. If Sakura is indeed poisoned, he needs to act quickly. Konoha is about two days away by foot. He doesn't have enough chakra for a teleport. Naruto is Kami-knows-where. And they are still in the middle of the freaking desert.

As he runs the possibilities through his mind, Sasuke glances down, still holding her arm, and sees the moment where she struggles to move her red dress. Unconsciously, he extends his hand to help her, bunching up one side of the dress above her waist. He holds the fabric there, trying to avoid her eyes as she mumbles something close to a thank you.

There's an angry scratch above her hip, not larger than five inches, which is quickly swelling. Sakura tries to close the broken skin with her chakra, but it's useless; it flickers a few times feebly and then fades.

Whatever poison coated the weapon responsible for this wound, Sasuke thinks, it reacts slowly, with the intention to catch the opponent off guard, no doubt. It's eating her chakra cells, blocking its paths one by one.

He confirms that as he checks her with his Sharingan; her reserves are nearly empty, and he can distinctively see a few spots whirling inside of Sakura's chakra system. Sasuke tells her that, but the medic-nin is clearly struggling to process the information.

His time with Orochimaru taught him a lot about poisons – and he's even immune to a few thanks to that – but this one doesn't match the ones he personally knows. If it's anything like the one Sakura herself found the cure for all those years ago here in Suna, there's nothing much he can do; his limited knowledge in medical ninjutsu warrants that.

With the night approaching, and the risk of sandstorms, Sasuke decides to find shelter and wait in a safe place where he can replenish enough chakra to take them back home – by summon or whichever option he can use first.

He only has time to secure her arm around his neck when Sakura slumps against him. Cautiously, he guides them through the endless dunes until he sees the entrance of a small cave they spotted earlier that day.

Her smaller body is tucked in his arms by the time they get inside, her skin cold to the touch. Sasuke shrugs off his travel cloak and lays Sakura on top of it. He works quickly after that, making a fire to keep them warm, and returning to her side.

Disoriented, teetering on the edge of unconsciousness, Sakura mumbles words every now and then. She whines and pants, and Sasuke knows the poison is spreading. He reaches for her medical pouch and unclasps it from her belt. Inside there are herbs, and syringes, first aid items, and other things Sasuke has no clue how to use.

In the light the small fire provides, Sasuke notices the changes in her; the ashen color of her face, the perspiration coating her skin, and her usually rosy lips turning blue.

A strangled cry forces him to move again, and he curses under his breath as he continues rummaging her things. She's dying and the realization bothers him more than he cares to admit; Sasuke knows he's on borrowed time.

Stupid, foolish woman, the words echoes in his head as he unrolls their travel blankets over her shivering body.

Before she's covered, Sasuke checks her pulse, brows furrowing in deep concern when he finds only a faint hint of her heartbeat. It's thready at best, and he needs to do something.

Anything.

He hears his name, he thinks, her voice is strained and the word broken on her lips, but the "kun" gives it away. He knows she's calling him.

His hand moves on its own, touching her cheek first, then her forehead, checking her temperature. Her skin is clammy and feverish, and he shouldn't be surprised with the fast development of her symptoms, but he still is.

"I'm here," he rasps, hopeful that she'll open her bright green eyes for him.

Sakura hums, and curls to his side, seeking his warmth even though she's warm enough for the both of them. She's crying, he notices; tracks of fresh tears run from one cheek down her neck.

He goes back to the pile of things he gathered from their backpacks and finds a piece of clean fabric. He folds the cloth and damps it with some water. When the cool compress is placed on her temple, Sakura sighs in relief, but her pained expression doesn't ease his mind. Not one bit.

Sasuke kneels beside her, pressing the cloth against her burning skin. His fingers brush her pink locks away, and he huffs, almost amused, when she blindly follows his touch. The Uchiha knows it's no use, but he calls her anyway, firm and louder this time. She doesn't respond.

He can't help but glare at her, because how dare she? She should have known better; she's scolded so many people about the dangers of battle wounds and enemies' weapons, him included.

The intensity of his gaze loses its strength when he considers everything again. Sakura is the last person that deserves such a fate; a painful, restless death. A death without a goodbye. A death that's not really hers.

He wishes he could take her place, and a little voice in his mind tells him that's how it was supposed to be. The Uchiha frowns, but it only lasts for a short moment as realization hits him; he's almost certain that she earned that scratch in that one moment he hesitated. That one moment where she pushed him out of the way. It was supposed to be him laying on this cold floor, withering away little by little. Not her.

"Idiot," he mutters, "why did you do that?"

"Sasu—"

Sakura's breathing becomes rattled, pain twisting her features, and for a brief moment he feels hope. If she can feel pain, it means she can still fight, right?

He abandons the cold compress on her forehead to move the covers aside. In the haste of getting her warm, he completely forgot about her wound. In a deliberate way, Sasuke removes her red dress, exposing the infected area. Blisters form close to the scratch, the flesh angry and swollen around the wound.

Sasuke snatches the first aid kit he found earlier in her pouch and prepares the ointment to clean the cut. He applies a little pressure as he works, covering the entire area with herbs once it looks sanitary enough. Sakura thrashes during the entire process, and the only way to avoid more damage and ensure that he can finish his work without hurting her more, is to straddle her small body, pinning her legs underneath him.

With his Sharingan, he keeps track of her progress, careful to not waste too much chakra. Now that he's taking a better look at it, he notices a concentration of the dark substance still close to the opened gash.

He doesn't even stop to think it through. Sasuke grabs a kunai and deepens the cut, pressing just right to push the poison out. She screams in response, shouting profanities, and jerking wildly in pain the entire time. But he can't stop now, even if the last thing he wants is to see her suffering, he can't stop; it's for her own good.

He snatches her wrists with one hand and presses her stomach with the other, his tomoes spinning and watching attentively as he removes as much of the malicious substance as he can. The dark, putrid liquid starts to ooze out of the wound, and Sasuke uses his knee to pin her to her side in an angle that helps the extraction process.

The moment that the last drop is removed, Sakura's chakra flares and she goes limp under him. He watches, Sharingan still taking in every detail, as her body starts to slowly give out and her nearly lifeless weight sinks to the ground.

No, no, no. She's supposed to get better...

When his gaze settles on her face, Sasuke notices how her breathing is shallow, a stark difference from a minute ago. Her features are slowly relaxing as if the pain is dissipating with each breath she takes.

Is this how it ends?

He's surprised when the thought crosses his mind. Sasuke's not one that contemplates the future; he's always thought he'd die young, after killing his brother. He's never expected to turn twenty. And he has never thought about rekindling the bonds he broke all those years ago when he left.

But here he is, a reinstated and pardoned Konoha shinobi, a war hero, a teammate, a friend, a brother. All things he wasn't two years ago. And now, before he even had the chance to really stop and think about his future, he can't.

This is not how we're supposed to end, he thinks, a hand running through his dark locks as he looks down at her with a myriad of emotions he's never associated with his name when looking at Sakura; pain, regret, remorse, sorrow, and pure, unadulterated sadness.

He releases her tiny wrists, sagging against her, defeated. The tiny hope he had gained leaves him as he continues to sink in his own storm, feeling as if he's being submerged under water, deprived of his air.

That obscure corner of his mind, the one that's full of self-loathing and doubt, whispers, "but did you even begin?''

On a whim, or maybe it's the bubbling rage inside of him, Sasuke growls like a wounded animal, releasing a burst of his chakra around them. His chest heaves and his shoulders shake, but he still feels numb. Empty.

He hears a whimper, even though his ears ring with the echo of his own anger. A choked gasp escapes him when he looks down.

It seems that the pulse of chakra he released has been absorbed by Sakura's body – somehow. His sharp eyes can clearly see her jugular pulsing, her eyes moving frantically underneath her lids, lashes fluttering against her lightly rosy cheeks.

There's… there is still a fighting chance.

As fast as he can, Sasuke scans his surroundings, noting every single resource available to him. He eliminates anything he can't use and lists possible steps; everything happens in a span of thirty seconds.

He considers summoning Garuda to take them home, but the amount of chakra is not enough. He considers Aoda – but that would require even more chakra – or any other smaller snake that could assist. But the solution, the best-case scenario, comes from a stupid idea that only Naruto could come up with. And maybe it's worth the shot, because all Naruto's ideas work in some way.

As blood runs from Sakura's wound towards the floor, a red path painting her fair skin, Sasuke transfers most of his chakra to her, calculating exactly how much he'll need to succeed. Then, he grabs her hands with his, swipes her thumb over her own blood, and guides her through the signs of Kuchiyose no Jutsu.

He pushes the last of his chakra to her hands, forcing the jutsu to drain the previously infused amount when he says the words. The smoke takes him by surprise (deep down he didn't have much faith in this plan), and when he sees a slime creature not bigger than his hand, he sighs in relief.

The tiny slug is very polite and right to the point. It pleases him greatly when she quickly understands the situation and gets to work. Katsuyu guides him, asking him to confirm where the rest of the venom is located, and with his bloodline once more he scans Sakura's body, pointing out the chakra path that is blocked and tainted by the poison.

The summon tells him he did a great job considering the limited resources and chakra available to him. Although she's being very helpful and sharing more than necessary, narrating her every move and findings, the slug's little voice trembles when she says that if the substance had reached Sakura's heart, things would have been different.

And suddenly, the severity of this predicament downs on him (again), because he has seen with his own eyes how the dark swirl is stuck a few inches short of that destination. His own heart constricts painfully, galloping against his ribcage as a life without pink flashes in the front of his mind.

"Sasuke-san?" Katsuyu calls, "ready?"

The question breaks him out of his stupor, and he nods quickly, pushing aside the plummeting feeling in order to get to more important matters. Sakura.

Together, they isolate the venom and the slug coerces it out of Sakura's main chakra path, pushing it towards the opened wound. It doesn't take long, and as the last drops leave Sakura's body, he notices how the color starts to return to her pale face.

"It's done," the slug says as she slides away from Sakura, taking the poison with her. "Sakura-sama is still weak and will need to break through the fever on her own."

"What do you mean?"

"My time here is ending, and you both need your rest. Her body will need to recover on its own until her chakra reserves are full again."

"I see. Thank you"

"No, thank you, Uchiha-san. Please take care of her!"

"Aa."

The summon disappears not long after, and Sasuke knows he'll be eternally grateful for its help.

For the first time in two hours, he allows himself to relax. Sasuke slouches backwards, leaning on the cave wall, head tipped up. He takes a deep breath, filling his lungs completely, and it's so invigorating that makes him think how a simple action that he does everyday – all the time – can feel so different, so good.

He reaches for the medical supplies and gets back to work. With a clinical eye, he carefully sterilizes her wound, cleans her skin, and then bandages it. He checks her temperature, tilts her head to give her some water, and repeats the routine like clockwork.

The silence, which usually is a comfort to the last Uchiha, is now a nuisance. It makes his mind overwork, inflicting painful thoughts, and aggravating his already guilty consciousness. The wind whispers angrily outside, though he hears it loud and clear.

She almost died.

In his place.

She's suffering.

Because of him.

Again.

A small whimper escapes her, and Sasuke thinks with mild exasperation, that's becoming one of his new favorite sounds. Maybe it comes second, losing only to her sickeningly sweet laughter.

She whispers and mumbles and Sasuke knows it's the remnants of the poison talking. And, between nonsense filled dreams, curses and random fits of rage, Sakura cries – a lot. It's not really a surprise when he stops to think about it, but it's not a pleasant sight, even though he knows it means she's getting better, naturally recovering.

She cries about the Dobe not realizing the Hyuuga girl is madly in love with him since Kami knows when, and how it pains her to see him being a fool every day, completely oblivious.

She cries about Tsunade going on a vacation and not inviting her.

She cries about her parents. Her mother's incessant inquiries about weddings and grand-babies, and her daddy's poor sense of humor that she secretly loves.

She cries about Ino. How the blonde keeps forgetting to return her things, and insists on pushing Sakura to date, because… she shouldn't wait forever.

He doesn't really know how to react to the last one. Sasuke is in a phase where emotions and feelings are still confusing, and there's also this new part of him that constantly fights between what's right versus what he wants. And as much as he wants her, he knows he's not right for her. It wouldn't be the right decision.

As the hallucinations go back and forth, there are more broken words than complete thoughts, but at a certain moment he knows he's there with her. The next words are proof enough and nobody can say otherwise.

"Please don't— don't go Sasu—hn."

Her voice is broken and exhausted, loaded with so much pain that he can almost touch it.

"I'm not going anywhere, I'm right here." He says resolutely, because he's done running away.

Sasuke takes her hand on his, comforting her like she did once. He's not sure Sakura can hear him, and he squeezes her hand – a little harder than necessary – waiting for her to squeeze back.

She doesn't.

He watches as she struggles through painful memories, and as the masochist he is, Sasuke relives them along with her. Some words are welcome, and even missed, but others are venom and sting more than expected. He doesn't miss the irony of all, wondering if fate is messing with him – if such a thing exists, that is.

The torture session, as he calls it, lasts no longer than a few hours. Sakura's fever breaks sometime between her memories of the war and the events after. Her natural color is returning fully and even the tip of her nose is pink.

As her senses start to work again, Sakura tries to raise herself into a sitting position, and she huffs, frustrated, when she can't. Sasuke soothes her confusion by drawing little circles on her back.

"Why?" He asks, his voice lower than a whisper.

Although Sasuke's tried to contain his anger, frustration – or whatever this is – he can feel it coming off in waves as he finally sees her eyes again; as glassy and green as they were that morning. There was a moment, not long ago, he thought he wouldn't see them again.

When she doesn't reply, he tells her how careless she was. How they were supposed to work together as a team and not jump to save each other's lives like when they were kids. He scolds her like she's a petulant child that disobeyed her parent's orders and because of that she'd hurt herself.

Sakura doesn't say a word or look at him. She moves away with great effort, leaning on the wall of the cave beside him. When she's settled, she looks up at him. And this time, her eyes are blazing with anger.

She tilts her chin up in defiance and says, tone flat, "because I'm a medic."

They both scowl, hearing the statement as the lie it is; it's not only because of that.

"You are an idiot, that's what you are."

His words, his voice grows heated and Sasuke is not sure if they are directed to her or himself. And as expected, Sakura gives back as much as she gets, matching his tone and glare.

"Oh, excuse me for trying to save my teammate's life," she tells him like what she did was a normal occurrence. "I didn't know it was an idiotic idea."

"Tch. You shouldn't have done that, Sakura." He reproaches, nearly losing his strength when he continues, "I could—" have lost you.

"You don't tell me what to do, Uchiha."

"Tell me why you did that," he probes, despite the way she crosses her arms and throws him a menace look.

"I don't know!" Sakura yells, "my body just moved, okay?!"

A deafening silence follows then. The tension crackles explosively as they lock their eyes in a familiar stare-down. The weight and meaning of her statement are not lost on him.

He thinks of his day, how it was supposed to be just an easy return home. He thinks of how scared he was from the moment she fell until she opened her eyes again. He thinks of how infuriating this woman is. How she drives him crazy, pushing him to situations where he cannot do a thing.

Her chest heavens, but Sasuke knows it has nothing to do with the poison, not anymore. When he moves closer, lips parting to answer her, it's not like either of them expected.

He crushes his lips to hers, moving them effortlessly, showing her the severity of her actions and what they— she means to him.

It's messy, and desperate, and belated, but still full of emotions and meaning. Their first kiss tells her he won't risk losing her again. Maybe it's not right, but he knows it is what they both want.

And this is how they finally begin.

[miridiums-writing]

Bnha matchup

@keroxeneheart I LOVE YOU TOO BB 💞👑

Spelling mistakes are likely because im tired but I knew I wanted to get this out

Request : Hi I can’t find if u have a rules post so i hope I do this right!! Also I couldn’t fit this into an ask so ANYWAY can I get a bnha matchup? I’m bisexual and lean more towards guys, I’m 5’7 but rarely leave the house without 2 inch platform docs. I was one of those gifted kids in elementary school who never had to work hard to do well so now I have a huge problem with motivation which gets written off as laziness. I love to crochet, namely making matching hats and stuff for all my friends and dying my hair impulsively (currently she’s bright red/orange). I’m an only child but I’ve always wished I had an older brother, do not know why. Not to flex but :)) I’ve been told by a lot of people that I’m super comfortable to put your head on my shoulder and to cuddle with and honestly it’s the best compliment and imo it’s my best trait. And one last thing, I am ABSOLUTELY FERAL ALL HOURS OF THE DAY like I am known to sit on the floor and start yelling, facetime my friends crying out of frustration and just generally embody chaos. Do what u want with all this, also know I love u ur a complete angel!! Thank u mwah!!

TODOROKI

So he is stoic as anything

Definitely needs to loosen up a bit

Your random impulsive nature is good for him

He comes to you for cuddles all hours of the day

He enjoys them so much

They make him feel safe and secure

He will buy you platform boots for birthdays and things

Makes it the expensive ones too

#endeavorscreditcard

He will sit and study with you to basically force you to concentrate

Your motivation becomes his kisses

He literally promised every right answer you get he will give you a kiss

WHO WOULD SAY NO?!!

Often just cuddles with you while you crochet

When you made him something he wore it everywhere

Doesnt matter if it doesnt go with his outfit or it isnt the season

He will wear it everywhere

If you get your hair box dyed he helps as much as possible, wants to dye his hair too now

Might only dye his red side a different colour to match you

Not because he hates that side or anything

If you got your hair dyed to look like his he would melt

Natsuo becomes your brother

You wanted one?

You got one

He will gladly take you under his wing

Shoto thinks its adorable really

Hes a touch starved baby

If people can find you he is usually attached

He's not used to having someone he can actively seek out and just cuddle with without judgment or repercussions

It just makes him feel so safe and secure in his own skin

You rub off on him

Your feral

Hes feral

No joke

Enji really hates you

If you ramdomly start crying because snakes don't have arms he will cry with you

One time he came up to you really sad and said dragons cant blow out their own birthday candles

Yoy both cuddled on the floor and cried

Will race around the hallways or wheely chairs with you because why not

If you both go shopping you take it in turns to sit in the cart and wheel the other around

[obscure-sentimentalist]

73, dealer's choice merlyn boys au, dealer's choice characters

[I’d just like to remind you that you’re the one who made a monster out of this. ;-) And I thank you for it.]

Prompt from the drabble challenge list

Part I to an as-yet-untitled obligatory college AU, which finds our favorite twins meeting a few years earlier than in the Old enough ‘verse. Featuring an appearance by the biggest eyesore of a haircut, and a nod to the fact that Connor Rhodes grew up in Chicago in the ‘90s, and would have attended a very particular Stranger Danger assembly.

Harvard, October 2003

“Um,” Connor starts, politely averting his eyes from the curly-haired brunette making very scant use of his comforter. “Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”

“Oh, Tommy,” she sighs, somehow making it sound both scolding and sultry. “Is that any way to accept a surprise?” She shifts on the bed, sheets slipping down even further. “I wasn’t sure where you were in the dorms, but I’d seen you out with your roommate enough to recognize him, and he was more than happy to let me in and leave us be for a while.”

As much as that is to unpack (he’ll really need to have a chat with Charlie about letting in strange girls—or anyone, really—claiming to know and wanting to surprise him), there’s one key part of her explanation that sends Connor’s face into his palms with a beleaguered groan.

Really, this again?

“Okay,” he starts, dragging his hands down his face but still keeping his eyes closed. “I’m going to put this as nicely as I can: I have no idea who you are…”

“I’m Jen,” she cuts in, in a questionably helpful way. Good to put a name to the, uh… face in his dorm-supplied twin bed, but her tone is already heated enough to indicate that this isn’t supposed to be a pleasant reminder.

“Great, Jen, then,” Connor acknowledges, then dives back in. “Please listen when I tell you that I did not know your name until you just told me, because we have never met before now. I have no idea why you think it’s acceptable to sneak into someone’s dorm room as an… unwrapped gift at,” he cracks one eye open to squint at his watch, “3:52 on a Wednesday afternoon, but I’m sure this ‘Tommy’ you think I am won’t particularly appreciate it either.”

There’s a moment of stunned silence at that, and Connor, with his eyes still dutifully closed, can’t get a clear read of the room. Still, he hopes that just maybe this will be the time someone actually listens to him and…

“Ugh, I should have known you were actually that much of a bad-boy jerk,” Jen snaps, violently throwing off the covers entirely as they land with a heavy thump on the floor. There’s hasty shuffling like she’s now out of the bed and throwing her clothes back on, all the while ranting, “Saying that you’re not Tommy, oh, that’s rich. Like I don’t know exactly how you look, and that this is some sort of mistaken identity situation.”

Figuring that this disappointing (yet not surprising) reaction means that Jen is decent enough that it won’t be impolite to do so, Connor’s eyes snap back open. “Because that’s exactly what’s happeni—”

Aaaaaaand there’s the slap.

“If you’re not actually interested, don’t lead a girl on and then act like you don’t know her!” Jen calls angrily as she stomps towards the door. It bangs against the wall as she yanks it open—the vibration sending Connor’s small tower of CDs clattering to the wood floor—and just as violently slams shut upon her departure.

Rubbing his stinging left cheek, Connor finally gives in and drops down to the large area rug with an exasperated exhale, flopping onto his back with the limpness of a dead fish. If this keeps happening, he’s going to have a permanent hand-shaped bruise on his face—that’ll be a barrel of fun to explain.

He gets but a few moments to bemoan this continued streak of inexplicable misfortune by himself, before the latch clicks and the door cracks back open.

“I just got settled into one of the comfiest sections of the common area before I was loudly alerted that I no longer needed to be there,” Charlie greets, snapping his Intro to Psych textbook closed and padding the rest of the way into their room. “You know, that girl has a set of lungs on her. Also, a very extensive vocabulary. Is she a theater major?”

“I think I have an evil twin,” Connor admits feebly, not even bothering to address the question. “One who’s very popular with the ladies, yet somehow makes himself scarce when they come calling. Which means I’m the one who gets my soul sucked out through a passionate lip-lock, or my ass smacked while walking through the Yard, or an unclothed guest in my bed. And subsequently gets slapped for kindly telling them that they have the wrong guy.”

“Sure,” Charlie snorts, disbelieving, as he carefully steps over Connor and plops onto his bed. “This ‘evil twin’ want to own up for running in nothing but boxers past the art museum last Thursday night?”

Connor sits bolt-upright at that. “Wait, you’ve seen him? And he did what?”

That just earns him a pillow swatted to the face. “Dude, if you lost a bet or that was some pre-med hazing ritual, I’m not gonna judge you. I will, though, if you keep pretending that wasn’t you.”

“Because it wasn’t…” Connor starts, highly offended, before he gives up and drops bonelessly back down. “Fine, whatever. Clearly it’s more believable that I’m meeting people and doing things about which I later lie and claim I don’t remember, rather than the increasingly probable doppelgänger theory.”

Charlie just rolls his eyes, yanking his pillow away from Connor’s face and propping it up behind his head as he sinks back on the bed. “Come on, you actually think you’re unlucky enough to have ended up at the exact same college as someone who looks completely identical to you and has a wild social life, the consequences of which have been doled out to you?” He pulls a dubious face. “Seems like a stretch to me.”

Connor just rolls over and screams his frustration into the rug.

. . .

“Okay, your conjecture might hold a little water,” Charlie admits the following Monday, watching the latest woman scorned sashay away, ponytail swinging. “You’re not even taking an Econ class, and wouldn’t have any reason to lie to her about it to get her to study with you.”

“That’s the detail that convinced you?” Connor grits out, trying very hard to remain upright (if doubled-over) and not topple to the ground in agony. People are already staring with varying degrees of curiosity and unadulterated amusement—no need to further draw their attention. “Not the fact that she called me by a completely different name?”

Charlie just shrugs, patting Connor pityingly on the back before looping one arm around him to help out. “People make mistakes. And how am I to know that you don’t moonlight under a fake name to pick up girls?”

“Exactly what is your understanding of me as a person?” Connor asks, utterly dumbfounded by the suggestion as the two of them carefully stagger down the sidewalk. Hysteria rising to distract from the pain, he cries, “I have spent the last three weekends studying at the library! I don’t even have my own college social life, and certainly not one built entirely on lies under an alias like ‘Tommy’!”

“Hey, I’m just saying. You do seem like a guy who’d enjoy a relationship where he regularly gets his ass handed to him, and, well, that’s a viable method for testing those waters.”

“You are a terrible, terrible friend,” is all Connor manages to groan back, refusing to acknowledge how close to target that assessment hits.

. . .

Having endured nearly two full months of painful cases of mistaken identity and no sign of the elusive Econ course-taking, multiple romantic interest-making “Tommy,” Connor has fully accepted that this is to be his campus life moving forward. He still tries—futile as it’s proven time and again—to explain each time that he’s not the boy they’re looking for, if only because it’s the polite thing to do.

(Others’ responses to the revelation, on the other hand, have yet to meet him halfway on that front.)

It would make sense, at this point, to actively start seeking out this apparent look-alike, but even with leads like a first name and enrollment in an intro-level economics course, that’s still too broad a suspect pool. Much as the mystery gnaws at him (and results in various slaps, tellings-off, strikes to more vulnerable parts…), Connor can’t justify putting his already limited free time towards tracking someone down for the sole purpose of proving their existence.

And so, he’s contented—in a very loose sense of the word—himself simply with the knowledge that he has a double somewhere on the Harvard campus, and instead focused his efforts on excelling in this next quarter’s classes.

This goal is what finds him tucked away in the undergraduate library the night before Halloween, bent over books and notepad with an unnecessary sort of concentration for the silence and lack of students in the immediate area. Thursdays usually brought in a decent-sized crowd for a pre-weekend night, but this time, it seems like most are out getting a start on the holiday.

The particular combination of focus and quiet is what alerts Connor so pointedly to the shuffle of feet down one of the aisles to his right, then the sudden halt and hushed backtrack. Whoever else is haunting the stacks tonight seems to be startled to find Connor as well, and isn’t being discreet about how he’s drawn their attention, if the eyes boring into his turned-down skull are any indication.

“Can I help you?” Connor finally prompts, not looking up but speaking clearly enough to address the lurker directly. “Or can we both just go about our evenings without bothering each oth—”

“Yeah, actually,” a male voice interrupts, moving closer with the footsteps until their owner yanks back the chair directly opposite Connor’s and plunks down. He audibly hedges a moment, before amending, “Well, more like I can help you.”

“You don’t say,” Connor says dryly, finally giving his uninvited guest a pointed look up from his books. Doing so reveals a sandy blond-haired guy with what has to be the sleaziest haircut for someone their age, and an expression that wouldn’t look out-of-place on a true crime documentary.

“You’re… Connor, aren’t you?” he starts, smiling in a way that he must think is friendly (or akin enough to it, since he doesn’t seem all that thrilled about this meeting either).

Before he can think better of it, Connor huffs out a bitter laugh at that. “Wow, first time a stranger’s actually called me by that name,” he notes, before making a point of turning back to his work and away from the conversation.

Unfortunately, that doesn’t dissuade the other guy—who Connor feels inclined to call Serial Killer Haircut, given his questionable style and mannerisms. “So it’s been happening to you, too.”

That sufficiently draws Connor’s attention back, almost fast enough to give him whiplash from jerking his head up. Probably not the best move, he realizes after a moment, as it’s given too much away, and there isn’t anything close to a resemblance between the two of them.

The dubiety must be sharp on Connor’s face, as Serial Killer Haircut backs up. “No, no, I’m not… it’s my best friend.” His face falls a bit at that, eyes canting to the side with a rising uncertainty—reluctance, even. It lasts for one extended moment, before he finally turns back to Connor and sighs, “And after seeing you… I think you need to meet each other.”

Well, this has certainly taken a turn.

“That uncanny, huh?” Connor murmurs, finally accepting that he’s not getting any more work done until this is over and snapping his textbook closed to give Serial Killer Haircut his full investment in this matter. The guy still skeeves him out a bit—certainly enough that, under any other circumstances, Connor would be throwing his wallet one way and running the other direction—but that hesitation says something about the sincerity of the claim. If this is a prank, there’d be no reason for the blond to sound like making the claim to Connor is the last thing he personally wants to do, but knows it’s the right thing.

Serial Killer Haircut laughs weakly, ducking his head as he gives it a small shake. “I’ve honestly known him my entire life. Even though I knew where he was, when I first walked by,” he lifts his head back up and leans back in the chair, giving Connor a quick once-over, “you actually got me for a second.”

“The fact that you figured it out sets you apart from everyone else.” Connor’s feeling just generous enough to give Serial Killer Haircut that point. “What gave me away?”

“Besides the fact that you must be enough of a nerd to be the only one studying here?” He cracks a grin that’s more than a little sharp and mean—almost like it’s a last-minute reminder to both Connor and himself that they’re not friends—but after a moment, his shoulders drop into an easy shrug. “I don’t know, I just… could tell the difference.”

Connor’s expression sours at the jab, and the unclear explanation only earns a flat hum of acknowledgement. They’ve reached something of a standstill here, and Serial Killer Haircut is starting to wear out his welcome, but Connor doesn’t want to lose this one solid lead to the elusive “Tommy.”

“Well, could you tell me how I can get in contact with him?” Connor finally prompts, reaching for his notebook and pen to jot the information down. The sooner he gets it, the sooner the two of them will be out of the other’s (in certain cases, humanity-affronting) hair. “That way we can find a time to meet up, if he wants to.”

Connor glances up just in time to catch Serial Killer Haircut looking at him as if Connor’s the one who should be posing for a mugshot.

“He was already supposed to meet me after I, uh, found something I thought I left in the stacks earlier, and we were going to go for some pizza,” Serial Killer Haircut admits. “If I don’t bring you with and Tommy finds out I met you, I’m going to wake up tomorrow morning duct-taped to our dorm room ceiling or something.”

Connor finds himself unable to do anything but sputter at that, glancing frantically at the pile of study materials in front of him before managing a strangled “Now?”

As desperately as he now wants the answers that have been teased—as to exactly how similar he looks to Tommy, what that means, why Tommy has so many women looking to slap the living daylights out of him—going from concrete confirmation of Tommy’s existence to actually meeting him is a big jump in such a short time. This is not how Connor expected to be spending his evening.

Alas, Serial Killer Haircut shows no empathy for Connor’s plight (but that was a long-shot, anyway). “It’s not like you have anything better to do—and no, the studying doesn’t count,” he clarifies, glaring at the books before Connor can say anything. “I refuse to be duct tape-waxed—again—when you could have prevented it from happening.”

Tempting as it may be to leave Serial Killer Haircut to his fate, Connor figures that it’s probably better to keep their relationship at a thus-far mild dislike rather than accelerating straight for enemy territory. He gets the impression that the other guy could easily live up to his nickname if pushed the wrong way.

“You’d think I’d know better by now than to be enticed into heading to a secondary location,” Connor cracks as he finally gives in and shoves his books into his bag.

“What?” There’s that look again, the pot calling the kettle certifiable, yet Serial Killer Haircut still gets up from the table and waits for Connor to finish gathering his things.

Connor waves it off, slinging his bag over his shoulder and following the blond out towards the exit.

Time to see if those answers are worth bucking the rules of street smarts.

. . .

The payoff starts to roll out the second they step outside the library and into the late fall air, when another figure falls into step on Serial Killer Haircut’s other side and exaggeratedly bumps shoulders with him.

“You took your time,” the newcomer greets, and Connor almost trips over his own feet at the voice. That sounds a little too familiar to his ears, as if it should be originating from his own throat.

Serial Killer Haircut sighs, turning his head and angling his body in just a way that it blocks Connor’s view of Tommy (because that’s surely Tommy) and vice-versa. “I got held up,” he says, and instead of leading into the promised introduction with which he’d persuaded Connor to come along, he just… leaves it at that.

Alright, that’s strike one for Connor going against his better judgement and trusting this guy.

“‘Held up’, huh?” Tommy asks, definitely not buying into the explanation. “Who’s even here the night before Halloween?”

Connor most certainly doesn’t miss the scheming glance Serial Killer Haircut gives him out of the corner of his eye before replying, “You know pre-meds. No social life whatsoever, so they take to hiding out in the library.”

Strike two.

Given Serial Killer Haircut’s mean streak and the claim that he’d known Tommy since birth, Connor braces himself for a returning dig from his unseen doppelgänger. He almost stumbles in surprise again, though, when there instead comes a pitiful groan.

“Yes, I now know more pre-meds than I should, all because they keep accosting me and calling me ‘Connor’ and asking for lab notes that I don’t have and wanting to walk with me to lectures I’m not taking,” Tommy rattles off, voice going tight from the lack of air between words, yet heat never seeps into his tone. He finally gulps in a breath, only to immediately jump back in. “And it… I don’t know, kind of makes me jealous? That there are people out there thinking I’m someone else, and who actually want to find him because he’s great at something, and I ju-…”

The word snaps off so suddenly that Connor unconsciously screeches to a halt in order to crane his head around Serial Killer Hair—disregarding whatever game he’s playing with acting as a human blinder—and find out what interrupted Tommy.

It’s a pretty clear answer when Connor turns to find that Serial Killer Hair has his head tossed back, cackling, a few yards behind them, and Tommy is staring straight at Connor with an utterly dumbstruck expression.

One that Connor is certain that he now mirrors exactly, because there’s looking pretty similar to someone, and then there’s being identical.

“Well,” he starts weakly, looking Tommy straight in the eye, “I can assure you, you’ve been in high demand too.”