#like i am aware there is nothing that can be done to undo it. there is nothing i can do to change what already happened and i still worry

[bixiaoshi]

.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Farmer's Daughter 13

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Walter Marshall

Summary: You notice a peculiar change in a family friend. (short!reader, sorry size kink is out)

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You finish your tea in tenuous silence. With an agreement between you, there isn't much left to say. You really don't know what to say or do. All the implications pile on you as your mind races.

A wife? A good wife. What does a good wife do?

Support her husband. Love him. Show him affection...

That last thought tingles in your cheeks. You peek over at Walter as you hug your empty mug in your hands. What does he expect of you? Not just in your marriage but tonight? You haven't wed just yet.

He meets your eyes, brushing his hand over his curls. He slides forward on the cushion as your shoulders slope down. He still looks angry.

"Done?" He asks, not waiting for your answer before he stands.

"Yeah, I... I am, thank you."

He approaches and takes the mug from you. He goes into the kitchen without another word. You peer over at the windows, rain still battering the panes. You sniff and stand with a shiver as you search around, your clothes still showing damp patches.

"The truck..." you mutter.

"What about he truck?" Walt frightens you and you turn to face him, wrapping your arms around yourself. He stops to shut off the space heater.

"It's down the road. I couldn't get it all the way here..."

"We'll worry about that tomorrow," he grits.

"Right... tomorrow?"

He blinks, "you can stay. It's safer."

He nears and offers his hand. You stare at it, it seems so big. You slowly unfold your arms and put your hand in his. He squeezes, firm but not unkind.

"Are you tired?" His tone softens.

"A little," you feel a yawn trying to break free and put your chin down.

He leads you around the couch and back into the entryway. He ushers you towards the stairs as the cold air creeps up your legs. You climb up beside him, crowded on the staircase.

"Well, we'll get you tucked in then and we'll figure everything else out tomorrow," he affirms.

"Yeah, sounds good," you wilt out.

We. Not I, not you. We. Together.

He hums and says nothing else. He takes you down the hallway to a room at the end. He flips the light switch. There's a four-post bed on a brown rug with a green quilt is draped atop the layers of bedding. A desk stands in the corner, cluttered and full. Several sweaters hang from the back of the chair, much like the soft wool he wears no.

He leads you to the bed and throws back the blankets. He tugs you towards the edge and lets you go. You climb up and wiggle your cold toes. Before you can reach for the covers, he tosses them over you.

Wordless, he backs away. He rolls his broad shoulders as he turns his back to you and nears the long dresser against the wall, a basket on top of it heaped with clothes. He pulls his sweater over his head, further mussing his curls. As he reveals his thickly muscled back, you look away.

You guess you never thought much about how he looked. You always just saw him as strong and big, but you never delved that deep. Your eyes trail over as he undoes his jeans and steps out of those. He dumps them into the basket of laundry and leans on the dresser as he peels off his socks.

He turns to you, in a pair of boxers, and you shyly flick your eyes to the ceiling and lay back against the pillows. The image of the hair across his burly chest has your insides brewing. He's older than you but can't be that old.

He goes to shut off the light and you sense his shadow in the darkness, lurking closer and closer. You nearly gasp as his weigh shifts the bed and cool air seeps under the covers as he slides beneath them. You're nearly shaking with uncertainty.

You're going to sleep in the same bed. That's not unusual... technically, you're engaged so it's expected. He lowers himself down beside you and you squeak as he grabs you. He pulls you towards him, guiding an arm beneath you as he angles you onto your side.

You let him. Maybe you want this or maybe you're terrified. Either way, you can't deny him. You have a deal.

He curls his other arm around your middle as you lay flush to him, your short figure nestled against his large one. His chest rises and falls calmly against your back as your own heart hammers frantically. You close your eyes, folding your arm around his as you rest your small hand on his thick fingers.

He's as hot as a furnace. His body heat quickly chases away the lingering cold in your flesh. It soothes you in a way you don't expect. You feel safe despite your vibrating nerves.

"Good night, lamb," he kisses the crown of your head.

His deep voice rolls through you, a new sort of chill flowing down your body.

"Night, Walt," you murmur.

He lets out a noise, somewhere between a growl and a purr, and you feel the tension slake away from his body. It might not be so bad. He can be nice so long as you go along.

[universalitgirlsblog2]

💗🐰CREATION IS FINISHED🐰💗

💗This post is inspired by Edward art - " Why “Creation Is Finished” May Be The Most Important Understanding Of All" post on reddit. To read the full post by Edward on Reddit - click me !

🐰There are a truly infinite amount of versions. Only within consciousness is it able to hold all the infinite versions. In order to even be able to grow, we need consciousness and these versions. They are not separate beings but One. The person you are now, is the only version that exists physically as far as I am aware. However, within your consciousness exist an infinite amount of versions. These versions can be so similar in detail that we may not notice any change. For example, there may be a version of you where you are now but instead the color of your shirt is different, or one single hair is in a different spot. If you can conceptualize it, it must exist. These are so minute in detail that we will never truly question the nature of our reality.

💗Maybe you are 18 years old, maybe 48, it does not matter. Go back one year and realize that one year ago, the Version you are now, existed when you were 17 or 47 years old. Did you not have the freedom to be a different version? If so, do you not have that same freedom now? You always have the freedom to be a different version regardless of your age.

🐰We move from these Versions of ourselves through Consciousness by the action of Awareness.

💗Prayer is when you just decide to appropriate and become Aware of Being the version you wish to be .It is not a petition, it is an acceptance of the fact that you are NOW this other Version of YOURSELF. There is no “Being” you must ask to receive . These are all different versions of yourself, so they are yours truly. Don't beg for something that is yours. It is like you bought a cake with your money and asked someone from the sky If you could eat it. It is almost madness to ask for. There is nothing to ask, nothing to work for .You do not have to be perfect or have some physical achievements in order to become Aware of Being a different Version. Use your imagination to grow and raise yourself to version you want to be.

🐰it should be important to note that we are not regressing but progressing. When we alter our past in Consciousness, we are altering it to change our future. There has to be a Version of yourself that did not make that certain mistake, that did not say those words, that did not experience that pain etc. If you can conceptualize a different past, just as you can conceptualize a different future, it must exist. So, if you are consistently repeating the past, it is because you are dwelling on it.

💗There is no " future " or " past " , don't confuse with the only time you can experience which is Now. We can only experience Consciousness. When we dwell on a past mistake, we are essentially becoming Re-Aware of Being that Version in the Now.

🐰What we experience NOW, is what we are Aware of Being, which Version we are Aware of Being. What we are Aware of Being, manifests.

💗For Example ( from the Neville's lecture “The Art Of Dying March 23, 1959,”) A lady who burned her hand and then "unburned" it. She poured boiling water on her hand. She lay on the couch and tried to undo mentally what had been done. It was difficult because of the pain but she kept trying. She redid the scene and poured the boiling water on the tea and brewed it and then she drank the tea. She did it over and over and finally in the act of thus making the tea she fell asleep. When she awoke some hours later there was no trace of the burn. She wrote: "You would have thought I should go right to the hospital, but now there is not even a sign of the burn." The past and present are one in a greater moment.” Mary decided to go into the only reality, and rearrange the past. Since she is in consciousness, she is not in the past but in reality. She became Aware of Being this other Mary and then this rearrangement of the memory altered her future.

🐰If we are not receiving our desire, there are several factors for why we are not, but the one that we all share is that we are not Aware of Being that Version that has those desires. For whatever reason, misunderstanding, unbelief, doubting its fulfillment etc. We should not focus why we are not receiving but instead becoming Aware of Being of the Version of Yourself that has received.

💗Whenever you have an unlovely thought or I am experiencing something you do not wish, you reassure myself that there is a Version of you that is thinking a lovelier thought and is experiencing a lovelier experience. Then you simply assume that you are that Version of yourself.I have to be because you are Aware and it is YOU.

[dyaz-stories]

you took the words right out of my mouth || Kim Yeong-Hu x Reader

word count: 1k

warnings & tags: mostly sweet and fluffy, implied sex but nothing explicit, just harmless flirtation

A/N: For @neohumanmonster's Born in Blood prompt! I don't know if I'll post the other prompts right away because I don't want to burn myself out, so I hope you'll enjoy that one in the meantime!

“You do realize that there are two doctors in here, right?” you ask as you enter the room, not bothering to greet the man sitting on the examination table.

Sergeant Kim Young Hu’s eyes follow you as you walk to the sink to wash your hands. Around his bicep, a makeshift bandage seeped with red. By the looks of it, it isn’t the worst state you’ve seen him in.

“I’m not letting that lunatic touch me,” he answers, his voice calm, as it usually is, and you roll your eyes.

You’d be lying if you said you were a fan of Dr. Lim. You already had your issues with the man when you both worked for the government, before this all started. Once the Outbreak had begun, it had taken you forty-eight hours as his assistant before you had requested to start working out in the field. You’re well-aware of his shortcomings.

Unfortunately, and it stings to admit it, he’s one of the most competent doctors you’ve ever met. He’d be more than able to take care of the Sergeant.

“You do realize I have other things to do, right?”

“And I am deeply sorry to have taken you away from your fifth grade biology lessons.”

…Okay, he has a point. Finally done with your thorough handwashing — it’s not nearly as sanitizing as you’d like it to be, but it’s not like there’s a lot more you can do —, you come to stand in front of him.

“Does it hurt a lot?” you ask as you start undoing the bandage. At least working with the military means that the men all know what they’re doing in terms of first-aid.

“Could be worse. I think I just need stitches.”

You’d trust him, if it wasn’t for the fact that you’ve heard him say that about injuries that could have been fatal, had you not been there. In this case, though, you’re relieved to see it does look mostly fine. Whatever attacked him slashed through him, deep enough to be concerning but without actually damaging the muscle or hitting an important artery.

“What happened here?”

“One of the guys tried to take something from a monster,” the Sergeant Kim replies flatly. “I intervened.”

“Oh, it’s good it didn’t turn out worse, then?”

“Not really,” he says with a shrug. “The monster wasn’t violent until disturbed. This could have easily been avoided.”

“Sounds like your boys need a stern talking-to.”

While talking, you go fetch what you need. At least you’ve got everything required for something like stitching someone up, which you can’t say about most other ailments.

“I’ll handle that,” the Sergeant answers from behind you, and you smile. He exudes this quiet strength that you cannot help but be impressed by. His men would follow him to the end of the world and back, if he asked, and you can see why.

“Alright, well, you know the drill,” you tell him, coming back in front of him. “Think you’ll be okay?”

It’s silly to ask, with how often you’ve had to patch him or his men up. You’re well aware of his resistance to pain. Nonetheless, your training requires you ask, even if it’s no surprise when he nods in answer.

“Just go for it.”

You make quick and easy work of the wound. You focus on being fast and efficient rather than on lessening the pain, which you know is for the best with him. It’s not long before you’re setting your tools back down, done with your work. There are a few seconds during which the Sergeant takes the time to relax his jaw, to breathe in a couple of times, and then he nods at you.

“All done?” he asks.

“You’ll need to come back here so I can check on it,” you say. “And try not to put any strain yourself with that arm for a couple days, alright?”

He nods, but you don’t put much faith in that. As a soldier, you’d think he’d be good at following orders and, to be fair, you’ve heard he did an outstanding job most of the time. Unfortunately, your recommendations seemed to fall into deaf ears more often than not.

“Is that all?”

“Sure,” you say, even if his nonchalance exhausts you. “Hope I don’t see you here again for a good while.”

This, at least, brings a smile to his lips, and you try your best to suppress your shiver. He gets up from the table, and stands up, just inches from you. He’s so close, his torso almost brushes against your chest.

“Is that so, Doc?”

Damn that man.

“You know, if you keep this up, I’ll end up thinking you’re landing yourself in here on purpose,” you say.

The smile turns more amused.

“I would never endanger myself on purpose,” he tells you with disarming honesty. “But I’d be lying if I said I minded this kind of flesh wounds all that much these days.”

And before you can tell him just what you think of that, of course, he leans in to capture your lips. It’s not the first time. It doesn’t look like it will be the last time. And you’re in one of the very few rooms in the stadium that can actually lock.

Fuck it, you decide, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer to you. It doesn’t matter why the two of you play that game together, the people you shared a past with and that are long gone, the fact that this relationship was built on blood. What matters is that in his arms, for however long you get to have him, you forget that the world is doomed.

If him coming back for more over and over again is any indication, so does he.

hope you liked this, it's a little sillier than what i've written for the fandom so far, so that was fun to play with. i don't know if i'll write for other soldiers because most of them... didn't leave me much of an impression as far as their personality goes, but i tried something for sergeant kim ^-^ please consider leaving a comment or reblogging if you're enjoying my writing, interactions are what keep me motivated to write for a fandom!

more writing for sweet home

[crystalskiesandcherrywine]

And all the pieces fall, right into place // Part Four

So these two slightly disturbed and (one of them at least) psychotic doves had to get married eventually ..

All feedback is welcome <3

English is not my first language 

Part One // Part Two // Part Three

Warnings: Its finally smutty and its about Feyd, so....

_____________

Na Baron Feyd Rautha x Atreides!Reader

FxM

3.212 words

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Your descent is quiet, as you are still unable to think or speak clearly, while Feyd Rautha seems tense and concentrated. With the ease he demonstrated on the ascent, you are sure that this has nothing to do with him facing physical challenges with the task at hand. You want to ask him about it but decide to stay silent instead, afraid to reveal more of yourself than you already have. He was promised a Bene Gesserit bride, and so far, you have behaved more uncontrolled and wanton than you ever could imagine.

The sun's rays bask your ancestors' home in a golden blanket as you enter through the gates again, where servants are already waiting for you. The exertion of today takes its toll on you, and your limbs feel heavy. Na Baron, graceful and still full of vigor as if he had done nothing but rest all day, turns to you, taking your hand in his firm grip. The touch of his lips on your knuckles sends an electric current through your core, filling the air between you with something akin to longing. "My Lady," his voice a low murmur, a force veiled in restraint, before he enters the corridors of the castle, shadowed by the servants.

Left to navigate the tumult of your own mind, you all but flee to the room where the chaos began for you, the guest library, as if the essence of the last evening's events might still be found among the scrolls and candles in it. The door gives way under your touch, revealing the Reverend Mother and Lady Jessica in the velvet-draped armchairs, their gazes piercing the flickering light. "Ah... I just wished to—" Your words faltered, and you felt like yet again you are on the precipice of stumbling into something you cannot undo.

A welcoming smile graces your mother's lips. "I knew you'd come to us," she says, the question of how lay unasked as you stepped into their world, closing the door on the shadows that trailed you. You are not even surprised and just let the question of how go unasked.

The Reverend Mother's voice, calm and unfazed by your confusion, carries the explanation, so clean and cutting that you are shocked by the directness of it. "The Reverend Mother Margot at the Emperor's court has failed. She has convinced the emperor that she will bear him the Kwisatz Haderach," her words with an icy undertone, mixed with disgust. "The Emperor fears the loss of power, the alliances of our houses a threat he cannot ignore. The presence of the Harkonnens here is no accident; it's a guarantee of our safety."

Dryness claims your throat as the implications of this take form in your mind. "Does Father know? Am I the last to be told?"

"Your father is aware. Na Baron remains in the dark, but neither he nor the Baron Vladimir is blind to the currents of politics. Paul suspects as much." It takes all your resolve not to fall at your mother's feet as if her embrace might save you from any harm coming her way and your unborn sisters' way.

"Yet, it was he who wished that Arrakis be governed by us. My marriage, arranged from birth—" you state, confusion still swirling around you like dust in the air.

"Indeed, child. But Margot Fenring's betrayal has set a new course, one that places you at the heart of the Emperor's plans. The future is yours and Paul's to create now. If his marriage to the Fremen Princess is successful and you ensure you can manage some of Feyd Rautha's more volatile tendencies," the Reverend Mother pauses, "then your bloodlines will take control of Landstrad without even trying, and CHOAM holds loyalty to the Duke of Arrakis, no matter what they proclaim otherwise."

In the following days, you keep coming back to the library, training with your mother and Reverend Mother as much as you can. Lady Jessica couldn't help but feel a sting of pride at your eagerness and concentration, pushing yourself to your limits. This left you exhausted and almost silent during dinners, keeping your interactions with the Baron to fleeting gazes. It felt like each sight of him frayed your strained mind a little bit more, with darkness creeping into the edges.

You are aware that Na Baron continues his daily training undeterred. You hear Gurney and Duncan whisper about it amongst each other. They seem impressed with his combat skills, something that you don’t see them being often. You tell yourself that after making yourself rare for the last few days, it's only polite to see your betrothed the day before your wedding. Arriving at his guest quarters, you knock, but no one answers. Guided by an urge you are too afraid to name, you press on the indentation on the door, and within a step, you are in his chambers. His attire is folded with immaculate precision along the shelves, his blades, gleaming, lay in a seated shelf. It feels so intimate to get a peek into his tiny world here, an exhilarating feeling rushes through your body.

„What are you doing here?“ 

A hissing, high pitched voice behind you startles you. You swirl around and look into black eyes of a woman, boys as Na Baron, dressed in leather overall, if those tiny scraps couldn’t be called clothing at all. Her eyes have to whites or pupils, but are just filled with back, making her seem like a wild animal. 

„Who are you“ You spit back at her.

„She is in Lots quartersssss… she will take him from ussssss“ Two other creatures appear from his bedroom, three of them looking together identically, The hair in your neck rises

„I am not the once to answer you. Now make space“ You take a step back, but the woman only come closer, his limbs moving slowly and in unnatural angels. 

„Dont thinksss soo. Why let you leave if we can kill you and have him to ourselfesssss“ and with it one of them lunges at you, her nails at your neck, her meta smelling breath on your face. You smack her away, but its three agains one and you feel a stream of blood running down your gown and arms, the pain searing. 

„Stop now“ within seconds you are free, crawling backwards and scrambling on get your feet 

„Who are you?“

The creatures only make cracking sounds in return. „Well then,“ you finally regain composure and try to ignore the drops of blood on your hands. „You can keep that to yourselves as a last thing you do.“ And just as you are about to use your voice on them again, Na Baron appears with sweat running along his cheek, this tunic clinging to his body, revealing the chilled muscles of his chest and abdomen. His gaze wanders between you and the women, between your blood on the floor and the blood on their claw-like nails.

„ I see you could not behave as I told you“ 

For a second you are enraged only to realize that he is not talking to you. „What did I say?“ His voice is pure fury. „We are so sorry, my Lord. She was here uninvited, she shouldn't“" So you decided to lay your hands on my future wife? On my betrothed?“ The women treble with each word „“Forgive us my lord“ the pleas, black tears running down their cheeks. „I forgive you“ he says, looking into their faces and with a low, wishing sound he releases the blade from its holster on his hip, slinking through their throats in one motion.

You stare at the scene before you, the pool of blood crawling to your feet. He steps right through it and gazes into your eyes. „No one will hurt you again, my Lady. No one will ever lay hands on what’s mine“ You only nod and let his kiss seal the promise. Whatever softness he has shown before is gone and is replaced by hunger and ferocity that leaves you breathless. He seems to devour you with his tongue and as you come for air there is wickedness in his features. „I think you should run now, my princess, for I am not sure how long I can hold back myself“ Your feet run on their own, leaving him laughing in the wake. So this is a glimpse of what his true nature is rumoured to be, You would be lying if you would say you are enamoured with him even more now. 

____

On the day of the wedding ceremony, you stay in your chambers. Duke Leto tries to protest as Paul comes to you, but his words fall on deaf ears. Only now do you begin to think of how many secrets had been whispered within those walls for centuries? Your handmaidens dress you, the gown is long and heavy with beads, mixing the vibrant green tones of Caladan, covered with floral patterns. As you move the beads sound almost like raindrops on cobblestones, a Melodie that carries you through the day. 

When it is time, your father leads you to the grand hall, where guests are gathered in the sea of candles. The light of the flickering flames is mirrored by your dress and you hope it can distract from the crimson creeping up into your face. Na Baron stands at the end of your walk and suddenly you feel the weight of the legacy you are carrying, how the cloth that is going to bind your hands together will bind the destiny of your families into one. His figure is dressed in a flowing black coat, that od closed at his shoulders with chrome insignia of his house. His waist is lacking the ear so he presents knifes. He is a presence of solemn elegance. When your eyes meet, a hunger flickers through his composure, but otherwise he aims almost motionless. His white skin almost glows in the light, his posture reminiscent of the pillars at the entrance of the hall. The words of the vows are spoken and with the knot at your wrist, all the whispers of the future materialize in front of you. You can feel the heat radiating from your husband's body, but he doesn’t take your hand and his expression is more guarded than you could ever give him credit for. A small disappointment rears its head, but you focus on your breathing. Your prance, the paragon of elegance and dignity, stand at your side, while Baron Vladimir and his nephew, both imposing in their own way, seem to scan you and your family still with a touch of confusion, as if they are still unsure if this is the inevitable turnout of e union, their leaves whispering in the gentle breeze, a melody of timelessness and change.

_____

The feast seem total stretch itself into an eternity, with each new dish brought forward, each cheer to the couple more grating to your ears than the other. Feyd Rautha seems to sense your absentmindedness as he touches your lower back, startling you. A laughter roars through the halls as he presses his lips hungrily on yours his tongue in your mouth and his grip on your back. You feel the eyes of the guests in you and cannot believe that this is actually something that is happening to you. Such a display of attraction is not something you are used to seeing and even less experiencing. When he finally lets you go, your face is red and flustered and with him leaving into your ear, your hands try to hold him at a distance.

„None of that now, dear Na Baroness“ his voice sweet and low, as sweet as the snakes gaze at the rabbit it is about to devour. „You are mine now, remember“. You tremble at him addressing you with your new title, another piece of the puzzle setting into the new reality you are facing. Two handmaidens appear at your side and you are gestured to leave the halls. The cheering gets even louder and from the corner of your eye, you say Jessica raising an eyebrow at the Duke, who try to remain graceful and stoic through the ordeal. 

Instead of your rooms, you are brought to the east wing. The chamber's candles mirror the grand hall, a subtle echo of their grandeur. The handmaidens leave out a nightgown for you, a whisper of black silk and lace and run a bath, fragrant with myrrh and pine. Hot water mist rises up from the basin, with tiny droplets lingering on your hair and gown. Just as one of the girls begins to untie the intricate laces of your corset on your back, Feyd Ruth’s voice fills the room.

„What do you think you are doing?“ 

„We are..“ The girl, clearly afraid bows down and tries to explain herself.

„You are leaving“ he declares and they follow the command at once. 

You stay frozen on the spot, the small sounds of the dress beads on the floor retrying your shiver. 

He is right behind you, the fabric of his cloak mixing on the floor with yours. His breath is on your neck, intensifying the shivers, which are now infused with anticipation. 

His hands resume the handmaiden's works, unrevealing the masterfully woven ties until your back is exposed to him, your dress holding on to the sure edges of your shoulders. He lets his nails glide along your spine, leaving tiny red lines on your sensitive skin. When his fingers leave your skin you feel a twinge of disappointment, but within a glimpse of a second, they return to push down the dress, as it now gathers on your hips, being held in place by the last pieces of the laces. You feel exposed and try your best to to ver up, as he circles you, with the precision of a vulture hunting down its prey. Whatever restrain he had it seems to fade by a second. His Tonge flicks his lips, as he places one hand on your neck and disposes of the rest of the dress with the other. You are standing now bare infant of him, unable to log away, as his left palm holds your face in a position facing him. His right hand disappears uncerismonuoisly between your thighs, and brushing over your sensitive sport, circling your entrance. „ I am pleased to find you so welcoming“ he smirks, feeling the wetness of your folds. You try to say something in return, but your mind is wiped clean, when his lips are at your neck, sucking at the skin around your collarbones and leaving bruises in their wake while his other hand is still at your core. 

He thought about this moment since your first kiss, letting all kinds of scenarios wander before his eyes. The Imagery of you bound to his bed, on your knees in-front of him, your hands behind your back and his hand in your hair. But for now, none of them seem enough to brand you as his. Your readiness however thinly veiled spurs him on and when he is satisfied with the chain of marks on your neck, he continues with your breasts, sucking and biting, which each whine you can hold back making him even more ferocious, The moonlight mixes with the candles, letting you appear like an ethereal creature, with soft curves and redness to the bitten spots, something divine and foreign to him. When your hands find his shoulders, still fully clothed, his voice is full of mischievous glee, like a spider that sensed something juicy got caught in the net. 

„ I don’t remember allowing that, my Lady. But it's your first transgression, so see it as a chance to learn.“ 

A glimmer of fear finds its way into your mind, the memory of his hand cutting a human throat quite fresh on your mind.

„Now be a good girl and turn to the wall. You obey, feeling the relief of the tapestry pressing into your skin, a friction so irritating and delicious you almost cannot stay still. 

„You are only getting 5 blows, but you are going to count them loud for my, my Na Baroness“ You sense how eager he is and brace yourself. Yet the pain is so searing on your bottom, ah his hands land flat on it, leaving a screaming red mark immediately that your legs tremble.

“It seems you didn’t count this one, so we have to start again“ Another blow on your butt cheeks lands with an intensity you didn’t expect.

„One..“ You manage to press between your teeth.

„Now that's better“ He almost purrs, a cat satisfied with its cats.

By the time the last blow lands, your are a mess of pain and desire.

You lay on the bed, your mind and body in a haze of desire and angst, as his clothes are disappearing on the floor. Your eyes wander dawn from his abdomen to his groin, where an unmistakable proof of his desire is covered in precum. He notices your reaction. 

„It seems like you are ready for me, but you have to prove it to me yet“. He gestures you to get on all fours, your face to him. His thumb runs along your already swollen lips, and he nudges then apart. He fills your mouth, while clawing at your har, and when you look up to him, the blue in his eye is almost gone. His thrust are hard and fast, a gagging sounds that seem to please him and just as he settles into a ferocious rhythm. But just as you think his peak is nearly there, he stops and you see how a human in him disappeared and a relentless beast has emerged. He scoops you up and oxeye you are place with your back on the silken sheets, he aligns himself with your entrance.

„All mine“ he growls and enters you in one motion. As much as you anticipated this moment, you feel utterly unprepared by being filled out like this. He doesn’t pause and takes up the pace from before. You close your eyes and another orgasm makes you scream his name like a drowning person screaming for help. His Whole body is towering over you, a marble statue that came alive. The veins on his forearms becoming more prominent, his breathing ragged and shallow. To see him unravel spurs you on even further and your nails find his shoulders and back again, gliding down to his butt, revealing red stripes on the marble in their wake.You feel your whole being clinging onto him and his own peak follows closely. You feel his warmth filling you, his last pumps weakening, as hi almost collapses onto you. None of you is able to speak. There is a tiny trickle of sweat between his shoulder blades and along cheek bon, With an inexplicable urgency you flick out your tongue and lick it up from his face. With some of the icy flu of his eyes returning, he regards you with a satisfied smirk. „Please rest assured, that I am not done with you yet, my lady“. 

___

@moonsoulk @aoi-targaryen

[aziraphales-library]

Hi again!

After watching Season 2 I am finding myself fanfic-craving, but like, no fix-its. Not looking for that kind of escapism.

Instead, can you recommend fanfics going off the 'they're not talking to each other' (either serious or silly), or any post-season 2/ AU and deviants to season 2 that are not trying to fix or undo what was done?

Thank you!

Hello. Here are some fics regarding "they're aren't talking"...

Feathered Council by SazzyLJ (G)

Who needs a friend when ducks have ears? Crowley sits on a park bench with a bag of peas and talks things out… with a duck. It must be the duck he’s talking to since he’s definitely not talking to Aziraphale.

How Do You Talk To An Angel, Theme Song to The Heights (1992) by Karalyn (G)

They’re not talking, because it’s not safe to talk. That doesn’t mean they’re not communicating. “Who in Heaven could have possibly taught you about Paramore, for Satan’s sake,” Crowley murmured to himself while shuffling the tapes in his hands absently.

angel, just put your sweet lips on my lips by midnightdragons (G)

Aziraphale and Crowley have reunited to stop the Second Coming. But they cannot stop another Armageddon if they aren’t talking. And talking is difficult, because Crowley won’t even look at Aziraphale, let alone speak with him. (Short and sweet s3 speculation one-shot to celebrate its confirmation! And from Neil’s statement about how they ‘aren’t talking.’)

Though this be madness by Kotias (M)

Crowley and Aziraphale split up; Aziraphale went to Heaven, and Crowley drove away after that godforsaken kiss. Muriel takes over the bookshop, and discovers a world that they had never been aware of before. Something is afoot, something is brewing; the world is coming to an end, and They Are Not Talking.

amidst the important nothings by vivahate (T)

When they turn around they see Muriel exit the bookshop and make their way, once more, to the French restaurant. Nina frowns. “Are they seriously back to not talking again? They were fine with face to face meetings just a week ago.” Maggie sighs again. She’s been doing a lot of sighing lately. “Mr. Fell seems to have hit a nerve with what he said to Mr. Crowley last time.” “Really? What did he say?” “The days are getting colder,” Maggie quotes Aziraphale, “please take care of yourself.” “Ah.” Nina nods, watching the street lamps by the bookshop come to life. “That would do it.” --- (or: Aziraphale and Crowley may be stubborn, but they're notoriously bad at staying cross with each other. In less important news, the world is ending.)

Headlights by RoswellSmokingWoman (M)

Aziraphale made Crowley want to believe in the ineffability of a God that brought them together. Crowley made Aziraphale want to sacrifice his religion and worship their love instead. But that was then when love was enough to bring together two fools desperate to make it work. Three years after their divorce, Aziraphale and Crowley aren't talking. They've tried to move on, but neither can. It should be their anniversary, on New Year's Eve, but they're not together. They should be together. Aziraphale calls. He's not even sure whether Crowley will pick up, but he does. They see each other again for the first time in years, and it's a whirlwind. It's time to heal old wounds, put aside their differences, and make their relationship work again. They already know the alternative, and know they can't live like that anymore.

- Mod D

[lains-reality]

hello! i rlly love your blog and the way you explain things

how do i just apply? whenever i do i stress that i’m doing it wrong because i feel overwhelmed by the amount of info and things i have to make sure i’m doing right then i spiral and over consume again. i don’t want to rely on tumblr anymore.

what’s the simplest way to apply all of this and just “manifest” (i don’t rlly like this word bc it implies there’s a process or that i’m trying to get) my dream life? thank you

hi! ty!

it takes some courage! i also read a lot as a way to feel secure, but eventually i just got tired and just decided 'i have no more fears from this day on! done with this!' and i made it a practise to stop avoiding myself whenever something comes up

its all very natural, i can't say how you'll just finally decide that your over this lol

"whenever i do i stress that i’m doing it wrong because i feel overwhelmed by the amount of info"

well, learn how to stop yourself in the moment. you're putting too much pressure on your character! it only know what it knows now, it will not accept anything outside of what it already knows! thats why you leave it alone. read all you want to read, but stop when you feel like you have to. like you must. let yourself relax.

"i don’t want to rely on tumblr anymore."

good! keep going!

"what’s the simplest way to apply all of this"

just do it. try it and see. something that is a recurent theme in all the posts and book i read, is to try it. experiment. just for this one moment, let all the worries go. promise to never make problems for yourself again. you've given up troubles now, no more. just test it and see. surrender. let the mind cry and scream, for this moment, you won't allow it to deter you from freedom.

i'll give a list of stuff that helped me

theres only now -> stop bringing the past to now, learn to sit in the present moment

stop avoiding emotions, sit with the fear, discomfort etc

you already are Self! nothing can undo that!

be patient

non attachment (or detachment)

experiment - take something you already know and test it

question everything

find out what are the stories you want, what the desire will supposedly give you

it is not necessary to get rid of thoughts or images just stop deriving identity from them

"am i arguing for my limitations?"

soon more lovely thoughts and images will appear in your awareness and you can choose what you want

can you outgrow it? not you. observe it? not you. in the absense of it, you don't dissapear? not you.

be okay with not having it. get to a place where no one and no thing can disturb you (and your happiness and peace)

just see how absurd all this shit is. like i was born? what was it like before i was born? why is it normal to hear your voice in your head? no one knows what tomorrow is but we all worry abt it, where tf does the voice in your head come from? how can we actually identify feelings, what if the feeling pride isn't actually pride and you've been lied to? do you know how crazy this is for an infant?! we say we are an [x] person and that changes and so we say we are an [y] person, so who are we?? if we can change like that? being a human is confusing, seek the truth out and question all

just start to disidentify as the body-mind. when you disidentify as the body-mind you'll start to feel better as all the pressure you put on your character falls away. this will intice you to keep going as you feel freer!

have fun!! go and live life!! appriciate what you have now - this is all expressing the character, omnipr3sence, perfectly! you'll start to see "i barely thought abt x 2 days ago and now i see it here lol" "i was worrying about y and now i see it here too" "oh so this comes along with being the character too, maybe i should change that story"

you're in your own dream, see it as your dream and you'll start seeing the connections.

no need to convince the character, just move on. let yourself doubt this 'reality'

disclaimer: i'm still learning too! so please keep practising and have your own epiphanies!

reading

habit

no need to convince

behaviour

[bonny-kookoo]

Yoongi: 𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐬 (Intro)

In which everything he always wanted has already been there from the start. He just needs to make that final step.

Tags/Warnings: Vampire!Yoongi, Human!Reader, mentions of 'being high' (drug usage in a way), friends to lovers, blood (duh), red haired Yoongi, Listen I am Jungkook focused but I will put Vampire Yoongi on the menu and you'll better finish your plate

Additional Chapter Warnings: blood high= a rush vampires get after consuming blood, nothing graphic though, stereotypes against vampires

Length: Short

Next ->

♥━━━━━━━━━━━♡━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

"Yoongi... I never drink this much!" You whine pitifully, letting him lead you into your apartment where he turns the lights on for you before he closes the door, all while you cling onto him.

"I know." He simply reassures softly, well aware that you really do not actually drink that much. But you're also easily swayed by social pressure - always aiming to please people, especially if you're in a situation that's unfamiliar.

"Those guys were nice though.. why were you so mean to them?" You wonder with anpout while trying to undo the small buckle of your heels with a pout, not having much luck. Yoongi sighs.

He was mean to them- that's the tamest way of describing his words towards the group of vampires that had been filling you up with liquor only to get you weak and complacent for whatever sick and twisted shit they would've done to you later. Yoongi doesn't like that you're so easy to manipulate, but you're an adult and you usually stay away from things like that. But then, your date never showed up, and suddenly it all went downhill from there.

Luckily he texted you, just to make sure you're alright.

"Yoongii-..." you whine his name again when he carries you to to your convertible sofa, pulling out one of the sides because there's no way in hell he can actually get you into your bed like this. He unbuckles your shoes before he takes them off, putting them safely to the side where you can't stumble over them, while you already wiggle around, trying to get comfortable, and that's all fine-

Until you begin to slip out of one of your dresses straps hanging over your shoulder, his hand lighting fast at putting it back where it belongs. "Yoongi~!" You complain, trying to pry his hand off. "I wanna get out of this it's too tight-" You whine, and he sighs.

Too tight is right. The way it stretches over your behind and chest is sinful to say the least, making him shake his head as he forces himself not to look at your cleavage.

"I know love, but-" He sighs, realizing there is no other way to help, really. "I'll help you out alright?" He shakes his head, especially when you happily nod, as he puts a blanket from the side of the sofa over your shoulders, holding it shut. "Now you can get out of it." He instructs calmly, still averting his gaze though as to not catch any glimpse of you by accident. Only when the dress hits the floor does he swallow thickly, painfully aware just how almost naked you are underneath the blanket that he's holding. He could drop it now, paint it as an accident-

But he won't take advantage of you like that.

You and Yoongi are connected by technically less than fortunate events- his first blood high a horrible experience as he'd been left alone with his emotions and everything because the person he was with simply didn't care about anything but their own pleasure. He felt disgusting, used, and ever since then he'd never bitten anybody ever again, strictly sticking to his monthly schedule of getting pre-packaged and measured amounts of blood from Banks.

But what did that have to do with you?

Well, you found him when he was at his lowest, no job, no future, uncaring of anything any longer. He had nothing to his name, and yet, you bought him something to eat walked him home like a lost dog, and gave him your number just to make sure he'd be alright. And all that after having been attacked by a vampire not even a week prior, as you would reveal to him a few months later.

It made him awfully protective of you.

As he lets you pull a shirt over your head that he fetched from your bedroom (he just grabbed whatever was still on your bed, he'd never dare roam around in your closet because God have mercy on him if he stumbled over your underwear- that'll surely give him wet dreams like he's nothing but a boy stuck in puberty for sure), he makes sure to leave the bathroom door open in case you'd get sick later tonight- when you pull on his sleeve.

"Hm?" He looks down at you, where your gaze is distant.

Before you smile in an almost somber manner. "You won't stay- even if I ask, right?" You wonder, and he sighs.

"You're drunk." He argues softly.

"I know, I know.." you shake your head, letting go of him.

He knows he likes you as more than a friend. He really did fall in love with you along the way. But considering how your friendship started- he feels like it would be wrong to ask you out now. You're so sweet all the time- the chance that you'll say yes to him just because you don't want to hurt his feelings is more than just high.

He's almost certain you'd do just that.

And so he waits for you to make a move. Give him a sign. Anything so he knows you do actually like him back.

But how the fuck is he going to know what those signs look like, when all you do already seems to imply that you like him?

[anatrik]

First thoughts TTPD:

What a lana x folklore girlie win this issss!

1.Fortnight is about matty?? HAHAHAHA also why did this make me think of when holt was going running with the ladies when he was in witness protection??? Crying. Fav line has to be they were supposed to take me away but they forgot to come and get me. So sad but also so cool in relation to her cancellation/return. 10/10

2. TTPD- not so hahahaha anymore IS THIS ACTUALLY A FUCKING MATTY HEALY ALBUM??? There was a typewriter at the 1975 show she performed anti-hero at? Unless its somehow about harry? Who else is tattooed on her roster??? Or is this about herself? Kinda feel like modern idiots/who’s going to decode is directed at us lol😂 9/10?

3.My boy only breaks his favourite toys- went in expecting mad woman rage. Pleasantly surprised. king of my heart to queen of sandcastles he destroys….DESTROYED ME. Are you fucking kidding me rn? Im caling it. Best song. Im crying at 7.30 am this is not funny anymore. Also THANK YOU FOR NOT SLANDERING DAD. I knew you wouldnt let us down like that. Also the chorus sounds like long story short😭 oh this is so sad. Once i fix me hes going to miss me? He was my best friend?😭 he runs because he loves me? Stopp😭😭 1000000/10

4.Down bad- ….aaaand we’re back to MATTY AGAIN? He does not deserve this spotlight but why are all the song so goood😭😭😭 is this why artists love to date problematic men? It unlocks some extraordinary potential? Crazy crazy girl😭 also stay down (bad) 🤌🏾 shes done it again 10/10 also for personal reasons i will be believing this is about joe in that Tom/Joe/met gala overlap period when she was photographed going to the gym a lot and that this is about all that yearning please let it be about that plesplesplesplesplesples also down bad waking up in blood staring at the sky…like i lost a twin is giving bigger than the whole sky🥺

5. So long, london- so so long long, lon-don DONE? ok miss girl😭 the hoax parallels😭 dont be undoing the song i was going to play at my weddddding what is wrong with you😭 my only one my smoking gun to two graves one gun youll find someone??? Also reminds me of la la land :/ how much sad did you think I had in me? You wrote hoax so a lot ok leave us alone. crying again. 10000000000000000/10 oh lol its a track 5 ofc it is😂

6. But daddy I love him- she really said if you ever liked, shared or even LOOKED at the ‘vivaa las vegas’ memes you cant come to the wedding and shes so real for it. Lfgggg. Ubothered unhinged uhmazing. Growing up precocious sometimes means you still hold on to that princess/quarterback wattpad fantasy AS IS YOUR RIGHT QUEEN GO THE FUCK OFF🥳 100000/10 calling out toxic fandom for the first time and we love to see it🫡 this is suchhhh a happy songggg you deserve ALL the chaos and revelry.

7. Fresh out the slammer- god she gets it. Like sure he was great and he is still my biological father and everything but as a decidedly melancholy person myself who has constantly had atleast one close friend in a deep depression I can see how all that heavy lifting can just get heavy at some point especially when youre a partner and their sole lighthouse in wtv storms be out there buffeting their mental health. Its not for everyone and thats so fair and so valid but so sad as well. 10/10 for the honesty.

8. Florida- she really said girlrot summer🫡 this is the lanaest song ever. So lucky one/nothing new coded. This will be the First song I repeat and then so long london. Aaaghhh how i love a self aware melancholic anxious little superstar. 90283749292/10 thank you for giving florence an entire verse whew. Little did you know your home’s really only a town you’re just a guest in is soooo going on my body forever

9. Guilty as sin?- honestly just fuck if it means we dont have to hear about how desirable ratty healy is man ffs. IThe only reason he looks so hot is bc hes forbidden. You have to trust me on this. He’s sooo mid JESUS. U cant be writing hozier lyrics about a man that hasn’t met a shower😭 1000000/10 writing. -16392992/10 content. Unrequited love/lust truly is the greatest weapon in a poets arsenal bc where is this energy in the joe songs binch?😭 this is such a teen in love with a 26 yo creep who called me so mature for my age mom you just dont get ittt anthem😂😂

10. Who’s afraid of little old me?- is a warning 😂 im so here for it. Like yes I still hate matty with all my heart and soul but yes I agree fans should not be allowed so much of an opinion on another persons life and yes I should be afraid (I am). She said aight love letter era over I AM WRITING YOU ALL HATE MAIL AND I’M HAND DELIVERING IT. Shes sooo done pretending to be the relatable girl next door when she’s anything but and is now reminding us of it and yes yes yessss girl OWN ITTTTTTTT. I’ve been saying for agesssss that there is a darkness under all that sunshine from where she clawed her way to the top and this is sooo vindicating. 10000000000000/10 favourite song ever. Mad woman wishes she was who’s afraid of little old me. I am unwell. I am in love. This is the Taylor Swift i stan. The marketing genius the calculating business woman the puppet master with narcotics in her songs thats why we sing along🫡 she so can handle a dangerous man

11. I can fix him (no really I can)- you cant.

12. loml- ofc. OFC. Its the saddest song of all time. OFC. Fuck offf ughhhh. 😭😭😭😭😭 its giving happiness. Its giving divorce. i am a child of a broken home now and my parents still love each other and hold so much regret still. What do i do with thissss? Im just a little girl taylorrr! 1002380292011010101/10 soo so gooood.

13. I can do it with a broken heart- first of all track 13. Love it. Second of all the upbeat barbieness of it all. Third of all I FINALLY PLACED IT. Shes in her unrelatable era. She is not your girl next door. You will never understand her life. She is as much a phenomenon as a person and we literally only see as much as she allows us to and honestly if i have to get put in my place theres noooo better way to have it done. Im having such a great time actually. 10 BILLION TRILLION OUT OF 10 you tellll em girl you FUCKING TELL EM.

14. Smallest man who ever lived- not going to speculate on who it is bc they clearly had a serious problem and its not a joke but damn :/ thats so sad :/ hope they get help? Didnt expect this to be what the song was about at all?

15. The alchemy- she said TRAVIS IS MY BOY WITH HER WHOLE CHEST😌 10/10

16. Clara bow- did she just name drop herself ? I was so right about unrelatable era. Also the Subtle nod to olivia/sabrina noted and appreciated. Lucky one/castles crumbling (mature version) fr fr. Solid legacy song.

17. The black dog- shared your secrets with and location is the same whiplash as a red rose grew up out of ice frozen ground with no one around to tweet it🤌🏾 joe songs hit so so different 😭😭😭 1000000000/10

18. imgonnagetyouback- the valiant roar was not so valiant and more of a mew i guess. 7/10

19. The albatross- oh this is the ONE. The album defining song for sureeee. Mad woman on coke. A rose by any other name is a scandal???? Thats my religion right there. Little last great American dynasty twist there at the end! Fuck yea. She does reallly try to warn the men in her life have to give her that. One gazillion/10

20. Clearly god has favourites and they are the ppl called chloe or sam or sophia or marcus😭 ALSO this song is about joe for sure. The internet starlet hasss to be delaney rowe!!!! It HAS TO BE. 10/10

21. How did it end?- shes back for the fans😂 plot twist the breakup is with yall🤌🏾 but yesss say it louder! One gasp and then how did it end. So good. 100/10

22. So high school- lmao aristotle grand theft auto ONLYY taylor swift man😭😂 you know what you want and boy you got her🫡🫡 11/10

23. I hate it here- mother’s having a mental breakdown kids yk the drill🤌🏾 10/10

24. ThanK you aIMiee- what better way to say fuck you to a hater than to thank her for jumpstarting your legacy my god!!! She is insane for this. The capitalisation is a bit petty tho ngl. 8/10

25. I look in peoples windows- once again I thank you for the kindness and respect shown to joe. Never doubted you but thank you nevertheless. 10/10 short as nice to have a friend but it didnt need to be longer.

26. The prophecy- its so sad and humbling to see even a woman at where she is having to beg for love bc that literally is the nature of love. Something humiliating, to have to beg for 🤷‍♀️ cards playing out like fools in a fable cursed like eve got bitten. No one writes like her damn. 10/10

27. Cassandra- very madeline miller on this one. Love love loveee modern takes on tragic greek women. 100/10

28. Peter- ah fuck. This one is going to hurt (it did). 1000000/10 my ribs get the feeling she did😭 all her joe related aches are so bone deeeep ugh. Promises oceans deep but never to keep😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 oh god it hurtsss it hurts it hurtss

29. The bolter- curious child ever reviled except by her father wow.

30. Robin- OMG! I needed this song growing up sooo bad. That way to go tiger felt so so warm like running into a kitchen after a day of being in the mud and u tell ur mum the silly things u did and shes genuinely interested and impressed by your smol victories. A bajillion/10

31. The manuscript- postmortem of every ex ever🤌🏾 love it.

[atopvisenyashill]

What are your thoughts on pol!jon? I’m no fan of j/d but pol!jon feels so out of character and cruel that I really can’t see it

Oof okay that’s an interesting question.

I think there's a lot of elements to the political!jon theory that people tend to just conflate into one big theory similar to how the grand northern conspiracy has some parts that are a little galaxy brained and some stuff that makes perfect sense and has a lot of grounding in the text.

So for anyone who is unaware - I know a lot of my oomfs didn't get into the series until after the show stopped airing - the pol!jon theory came from s7 of the show to explain the absolutely inconsistent and stupid decisions jon makes in s7 and s8. The idea was that, basically, like Torrhen Stark before him, Jon Snow bent the knee to Daenerys at Dragonstone not because he actually wants the North to be tied to the Iron Throne again or because he's loyal to Daenerys but rather because he is attempting to manipulate her; when he realizes that she will not come North to save his people but did cross the Wall to save him he makes the decision to seduce her in order to bring her to the North to defend his people.

Now...a lot of people really dislike this theory. They feel it's too cruel of Jon to do, it's OOC, I've even seen some people say that any sex between them is noncon (which...aight), etc etc. I do understand to a certain point why people think it's out of character for Jon to do this but the thing is...he literally has already done something very similar in canon. Look at his relationship with Ygritte:

Two hearts that beat as one. Mance Rayder’s mocking words rang bitter in his head. Jon had seldom felt so confused. I have no choice, he’d told himself the first time, when she slipped beneath his sleeping skins. If I refuse her, she will know me for a turncloak. I am playing the part the Halfhand told me to play. His body had played the part eagerly enough. His lips on hers, his hand sliding under her doeskin shirt to find a breast, his manhood stiffening when she rubbed her mound against it through their clothes. My vows, he’d thought, remembering the weirwood grove where he had said them, the nine great white trees in a circle, the carved red faces watching, listening. But her fingers were undoing his laces and her tongue was in his mouth and her hand slipped inside his smallclothes and brought him out, and he could not see the weirwoods anymore, only her. She bit his neck and he nuzzled hers, burying his nose in her thick red hair. Lucky, he thought, she is lucky, fire-kissed. “Isn’t that good?” she whispered as she guided him inside her. She was sopping wet down there, and no maiden, that was plain, but Jon did not care. His vows, her maidenhood, none of it mattered, only the heat of her, the mouth on his, the finger that pinched at his nipple. “Isn’t that sweet?” she said again. “Not so fast, oh, slow, yes, like that. There now, there now, yes, sweet, sweet. You know nothing, Jon Snow, but I can show you. Harder now. Yessss.” A part, he tried to remind himself afterward. I am playing a part. I had to do it once, to prove I’d abandoned my vows. I had to make her trust me. It need never happen again. He was still a man of the Night’s Watch, and a son of Eddard Stark. He had done what needed to be done, proved what needed to be proven.

Now, I don't think this is rape on either side but it's certainly uncomfortable, dubious consent wise, and not meant to be just a straight romantic scene. Ygritte isn't aware - though she does suspect - that Jon hasn't truly joined their side. Ygritte feels he's holding onto his vows out of stubborn pride or perhaps ignorance; she does not suspect he's actually going to betray them, but she can tell he's clearly conflicted over his desertion. Jon, meanwhile, is only having sex with Ygritte to prove he's a true deserter; he is actively manipulating her by playing on her fondness for him and invoking Wildlings customs like bride stealing when they have sex here.

So the idea that political!Jon is out of character doesn't really work because while Jon is clearly guilt ridden over it, he can and has used sex and romance as a manipulation tactic before. As for it being too cruel, well, let's ask Gilly about Jon's capacity for cruelty then hmm?

“You will make a crow of him.” She wiped at her tears with the back of a small pale hand. “I won’t. I won’t.” Kill the boy, thought Jon. “You will. Else I promise you, the day that they burn Dalla’s boy, yours will die as well.”

Jon is quite capable of cruelty when he wants to be just as surely as he's capable of manipulation. This doesn't mean he doesn't feel guilt or that he doesn't care for the people he manipulates. On the contrary, I think part of why Ygritte continuously echoes in Jon's mind as a sort of mentor figure is because of the guilt he feels for leading Ygritte straight to her death. When Ygritte briefly opens up to him about a past abusive relationship, he doesn't dismiss her at all, and seems to make an effort to otherwise be kind, affectionate, and loving to her. He's just also planning on betraying her because he feels the Wildlings as they are currently organized are too dangerous to just be set free on the unsuspecting North (and he's not wrong - his alliance forces the Wildlings to put down their arms, yes, but it also empowers the Wildlings to come to the negotiation table as equals, as people of Westeros rather than as nameless, faceless barbarians).

So no, I don't really think it's OOC for Jon to realize that the enemy he is facing is too dangerous to deal with as is but if he maneuvers them in such a way that they have to listen to him and negotiate as equals, he can keep his own people safe while in a prime position to deal with the threat if it gets out of control. He is also capable of ruthlessness - the entire battle at the ending of ASOS, killing Qhorin, the baby swap, killing Janos Slynt, etc - and cruelty and sexual manipulation.

I also think - and basically everyone agrees, it's not just me - that their "romance" is written incredibly badly and weirdly. So much so that I think it made sense that people would wonder if Jon has an ulterior motive. I reblogged this gifset to my personal a few years ago and you can really see Jon is just over everything that's happening on Dragonstone, he's incredibly unimpressed with Dany, he refuses to even indulge in her fantasies the way he does with Ygritte (like when Ygritte makes that "oh let's disappear into the caves" comment, Jon is wistful! He brings it up as she's dying to comfort both of them! He doesn't like what he's been doing even though he feels it's necessary!), and I know Kit has never been particularly gifted at emoting but he looks just straight up miserable the entire time he's with Dany.

So...even back in s7, I didn't think Jon was actively plotting to murder Dany but I did think he was manipulating her to get the end goal he wanted (protection for the North) and that there was a high chance he was going to turn on her later when the time was right. It wasn't like he was thinking "alright so once the Long Night is ended, here's my twelve step plan to get Dany off the throne and murder her" but I do think he felt like well, once the Long Night is dealt with, there's still a lot of other problems we have to deal with and who knows what might happen as those problems arise. I never thought he was interested in her long term. Some people seemed to think that was beyond the pale but like, that's literally how he felt about Ygritte - he never considered this a long term relationship even if it was a serious one.

If we get anything like that in the books - Jon seducing Dany to get close to her dragons - I generally imagine it going that once he figures out how to ride one of the dragons, he just makes off with it and leaves her high and dry. Maybe he plays up the "we're the blood of the dragon" angle as a distraction of some sort. But like - is he actively manipulating her specifically to usurp her? No. But is he worried about the North and willing to once again put his sexuality, emotions, honor, and body on the line to protect it? Yeah, I think that was the initial plan when they wrote s7 and if Joner.ys happens, I do imagine it's going to go like that; not actively trying to kill her (anymore than he was actively trying to kill Ygritte) but definitely using her feelings for him to get the goal he's aiming for (protection for the North).

[wejustvibing]

hi, just wondering if you made a mistake when you replied saying “ isn't that the point? helping? because i don't think this 70+ year old crisis needs more AWARENESS and LEWIS is the right person for that CTA.”

the palestinians themselves have expressed numerous times, the only way they can change the media narrative is if people post and post and post on social media. for people not to stop sharing and speaking out. i’m sure as well all aware, it is just the public speaking out at the moment, not the media, not the global organisations and not the governing bodies of the world.

so just wondered if you made a typo, bc as said above, the reason why celebs are held to such a high pedestal is bc they have the global reach through their following, even if it changes one persons mind, allows one person to read up on the palestinian history etc, that’s why people are calling on celebs to speak out bc they have the reach we don’t. this isn’t a war, and i won’t hide my stance, this is a genocide being committed by the settler colony israel as i am sure many people agree with. so i think people are allowed to be disappointed when someone they admire remains neutral when there is no neutrality in this particular situation. however that being said, it flags the question of why people expect lewis as a bipoc to be the spokesperson when the other 18 drivers haven’t even shown a neutral stance let alone any support for the palestinian people.

may the Palestinian people be victorious and their martyrs rest in peace

wasn't a typo.

i believe celebs do not have the power to undo decades old damage. celebs don't know half the shit going on in the world. they don't have the education, world view or the time for it and that's the sad reality. it's always a losing cause waiting for celebs to come through. most of them don't even handle their own social media. unless it's the only thing they're doing, leaving their day job and focusing only on social issues. maybe then they can do it? i don't know. if they still manage to make a point to post on social issues, it's a plus and if those issues align with what you care about there's nothing like it.

but so no, they should not be held accountable for such important matters. it's political leaders and policymakers who need to be held responsible. changing media narrative isn't celebs' job either. media is either bought by those in power or they're creating their own narrative. genuinely this issue is so much bigger than any celeb, not just lewis. the generations old xenophobia and islamophobia will not be undone by social media posts of your favorite celeb or mine. general public has more power in that regard than celebs i'd say because we're rooted in reality and more in touch with what's going on.

yes, fans have every right to be disappointed. what's annoying is they're conveniently coming for the only person who has always said something? is that fair? and was he really 'neutral' or leaning heavy on peace? or are we just saying this because he mentioned the colonizer country by name? he's saying that targeting innocent people needs to end. he's always maintained this stand: ending the suffering and saving the children. if fans don't agree, it's their choice. just as what he decides to post is his choice. as long as he's not promoting genocide i still don't understand why he's getting all the heat. there's a lot to be done, yes. but can i expect lewis to do it? no.

my heart breaks for Palestinians and I've seen and heard what their relatives are going through from close proximity. i'm just praying for peace.

[roadtogracelandx45]

Mine Now| Jax Teller

masterlist

word count 3k

Mine, Now 

Summary: Ryder didn’t even want to attend the homecoming dance, it wasn’t her, but thanks to her best friend Holly and her ex-boyfriend David Hale who later ends up ditching her, she agrees to go only to be stood up. Worried about her well-being Luanne calls Jax who comes to the house and they finally admit those feelings for each other. 

Rated T for language 

*mentions of smut*

*This is conveying some of the thoughts I have had in the past about myself and my place in everything.

***

Homecoming was the first dance of the school year, and while it was at the top of most girls’ lists it wasn’t even on Ryder Winston’s radar. Maybe it was because she was a tomboy that would rather play with tools and grease than dress up in a pretty dress and get her hair and makeup done.

Or maybe it was because she was the daughter and the sister of members of the Sons of Anarchy motorcycle club and most residents of Charming were leery of the group and its doings. Or maybe it was because she just didn’t care but still agreed and agreed to go shopping with Gemma and Luanne who always jumped at the chance to dress up Ryder.  

“Come on Ry, this is going to be fun,” Luanne commented as she pulled another brightly colored dress off of the rack and held it up to Ryder’s body causing her to push it down while pulling a face. Ryder rarely wore bright colors, it was black, white, denim blue, and gray. Like a good future old lady should. 

 “As much fun as going to the dentist and getting a tooth pulled.” “If you didn’t want to go, why did you agree?” “Have you tried to say no to your best friend?” 

“And ex-boyfriend?” Gemma threw in, she was curious about what happened, but thanks to her son and his best friend she wasn’t able to question her until now, “Are you going with David just to piss off Jax?”

 Ryder rolled her eyes and turned the rack of dresses. 

“This has nothing to do with Jax, Gem. I am never gonna be anything more than Opie’s little sister. And it doesn’t have anything to do with David either. If anything he is trying to prove a point to his dad, that he isn’t going to fall in line and hate us because they do. Or he is just using me to get Tara back? I am not the greatest catch.”  

Since the first breakup with David happened Ryder had become more self-aware and self dissipating. And it worried Gemma that she was like this. She was 17 years old, she didn’t need to be like that.  “Don’t say that sweetie.” Luanne started, “You are a great catch. People are just idiots.”

 Ryder rolled her eyes and pulled a dress off the rack, she knew that she wasn’t a catch. She was the daughter of a war vet and a member of a motorcycle club and had served time in jail and her older brother Opie was following in his footsteps. And she, herself didn’t have much to offer and she knew that she was subpar at best. And why would Jackson Teller want someone like that? When he could have Tara Knowles? She had thought she had gotten over her crush on Jax, but she hadn’t.  But she would never say that out loud especially to Gemma and Luanne. 

They were her biggest cheerleaders and supporters and if they heard those thoughts, there would be hell to pay.  And if Gemma found out about the crush she would do everything she could get them together. 

Instead, Ryder kept her mouth shut and pulled several black dresses off of the rack, “I will be trying these on.” 

** 

3 days later

**

“Sweetheart, I am so sorry,” Gemma said reaching to touch the back of Ryder’s shoulder, the girl jerked it away and shook her head. They had been waiting for well over an hour for David to come and pick her up from the Teller-Morrow house and he hadn’t shown up. 

“Don’t be.” Ryder returned, reaching up and undoing the diamond-dangling earrings she had been wearing, “I knew it was going to happen. Why date the daughter of an outlaw? When you can be with someone that’s going to be a doctor? That looks a lot better in the political circle.” 

She dropped the earrings on the side table before undoing the matching necklace.  

“What’s so great about me?” 

Luanne, who had been standing in the doorway, took steps back and picked up the cordless phone to call the clubhouse. 

There were only three people who could talk her down from this ledge she was on. One was her older brother Opie, two was Jax, and three was her old man Otto.  

“What do I have to offer Gem huh?” Her trembling fingers were already pulling at the bobby pins that were holding her hair up. 

“My own fucking mother didn’t want me. She left me here. Why am I even still alive? There’s no point. Piney has crow eaters, and Opie has Donna. No one needs me.” 

“I do.” Jax’s voice said from the doorway, he had broken all the speed limits to get from the clubhouse to his mom’s house. Ryder turned on her heel and looked at him, the tears sliding down her cheeks. He crossed the room and pulled her into him, his free hand wiping some of the tears away and ruining the makeup that Luanne had spent hours on getting perfect. At this point Luanne didn’t care that all her hard work was going down the drain, she just wanted Ryder to be better.  

Looking at Gemma, she knew that she too was feeling the immense guilt of not seeing that Ryder had been struggling ever since Mary left. She had put on a hell of a show for them even though 90% of the time they would see right through it and call her on her bullshit. Now was not that time. 

“No, you don’t Jackson, as soon as Tara is back to being available you will be right back to circling her like a little puppy wanting to mark its territory.”  

Instead of getting angry as he would have in the past, he pulled her closer to him, his hand bunching in the material of her dress.

 “You have never been so dead wrong in your life Ryder. I started dating Tara because I was jealous that you were dating Hale.” 

“You? Were jealous because I had a boyfriend?”

 Through the tears, there was surprise in her voice, and in her eyes “I thought you thought of me as Opie’s little sister.’  He laughed, “I never thought that.” 

Sensing that this was going to be a very private moment between the two and they didn’t need an audience, both Luanne and Gemma left the two alone, going to the kitchen and hiding just out of sight. “You didn’t?” Jax shook his head, the familiar cocky smirk forming on his face. “Don’t play with me, Jackson Teller.”  She warned tapping his chest with her hand in warning. He laughed lowly before lowering his mouth onto hers. 

Once he pulled back, Ryder laughed breathlessly, her fingers clenching his kutte, “Well I guess that changes things.” 

**

The Next Morning

**

Ryder blinked her eyes open, her head felt heavy and her hazel eyes were burning with the effort of being open. 

“What the hell happened last night?” She muttered to herself, she vaguely remembered being stood up for the homecoming dance and Jax coming to be with her but everything after that was kind of blurry. 

Carefully she lifted her head up and looked around the room she was in, it was her bedroom at Gemma’s house. A room she had insisted that she had before Mary pulled the disappearing act on them, the black dress she had on was left in a pile on the floor by the door, followed by the black lace strapless bra and thong and baggy blue jeans, a white t-shirt and a leather kutte.

 Panicked she went to sit up but couldn’t, she twisted her head quickly and her eyes landed on Jackson Teller, his head was resting next to where hers used to be and his arm was holding her close to his chest. 

“Go back to sleep Darlin’.” Jax’s voice came sleep-filled, his arm tightening on her waist, “Ma will wake us up when it’s time to get up.” Ryder nodded her head and let him pull her closer to him. The heaviness in her heart was missing. But maybe this was what she was missing. Jax.  Maybe she was meant to be his old lady and she was just putting it off because she didn’t want to become like Gemma or Luanne or even worse her mother. 

And that thought scared her more than anything 

*** 

Teller Morrow Auto Shop

*** 

“What happened?” Holly Oswald asked as she threw open her car door and stormed over to where Ryder was holding a clipboard and going over the repo list with her brother, Jax, and Chibs later that afternoon. She and Gemma had come in after Opie and Piney threatened to kill Jax if he hurt Ryder. Either one of them had planned to tell the others yet about whatever this was but Clay wanting to cause more issues opened his mouth and told them what he had seen that morning. 

“You never showed up, and David came in with Tara.” “There’s ya answer lass,” Chibs answered, they had all gotten the download from Jax when the man showed back up at the garage plus what they had heard from Clay made them want to be more overprotective of her. 

“He stood Ryder up. Jackie boy had to go comfort her.” 

“He said.” Holly started feeling worse than she had after she found out. She and Audrey both agreed that Ryder stood him up and that David was right to take Tara instead. 

 “That’s your first mistake Holls.” Ryder said handing the paperwork to Chibs, “Believing the bullshit lies that David obviously told you and Audrey about wanting me back. I was the fool that got stood up, and it’s not gonna happen again.”  

The dark-haired teen nodded her head watching her friend and Jax together, something had changed but she wasn’t sure what it was. “No! Shut up! Ryder!” “What?” She asked innocently as Jax pressed a kiss to her cheek and whispered a few quiet words to her, causing her first to blush and then shiver. 

“What happened?” She motioned between the two.  Ryder shrugged her shoulders, “I don’t kiss and tell.”  The girl looked thoughtful before piecing it together. “It’s about goddamn time.” 

** 

The following Monday morning, Jax pulled his bike in front of the school next to Opie’s bike and looked back at Ryder who had just slid off of the bike and was undoing his spare helmet. “What?” She questioned with a small smirk pulling on her lips. “Nothin’.’ He returned with his own smirk pulling her to him by his baggy hoodie she had thrown on over her clothes. 

“Sure, nothin.” She returned as she raised herself up on her toes and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. 

“Oh come on,” Opie complained, leaning against his bike, Donna, his girlfriend, was standing next to him, excitement in her brown eyes. She had gotten a quick version of what happened that weekend the following day at the clubhouse but she wanted the whole dirty version of it. Except for Ryder wouldn’t give it not with Opie being around. 

 “What?” The younger Winston returned glancing over her shoulder at her older brother, “Now you know how I felt seeing you and Donna together.” Opie rolled his eyes, he and his dad had given Jax the talk about not hurting Ryder the way that David had hurt her. Even though Jax was his best friend, Ryder was his little sister and he would do anything for her. 

Even beat the shit out of his best friend. 

“Come Ry, we got to go in,” Donna said, there were students starting to go into the building. Ryder nodded her head and finished removing the helmet followed by the hoodie. Jax waved it off when she tried to hand it back to him. “Keep it.”  

According to Piney’s rules, they had to wait at least until she was out of high school for him to mark her, and sending her with his hoodie and dropping and picking her up from school every day was the best way he could show that she was his.  

“See you after school?”  She questioned as she pushed her heavy red hair off of her shoulders, having freed it from the ponytail holder.  

“Yeah.” He returned his focus as well as Opie’s on David Hale who was walking down the sidewalk with Tara Knowles on his arm.  “Ope, don’t,” Donna warned, they had been equally as furious when they found out that David had stood her up.

“Donna.’

 “It’s not worth it.” Ryder spoke as she raised herself up on her toes again and pressed a kiss to the corner of Jax’s mouth, “They aren’t worth it.”  She went to move away from Jax but he grabbed her arm and pulled her back to him and kissed her deeply.  

“See you later.” He grinned as she whined and stepped back, a pout forming on her mouth. Holly, annoyed, took steps off of the curb and grasped her forearm. “Come on hussy, we have to go to class.’ Ryder nodded her head and let her friend lead her away.   

Tara was absolutely furious when she had seen the two together, she had thought that she was going to be the only one for him and that he would always be waiting for her to come back around to him. But seeing them together made her angry, made her want to lash out at Ryder. 

And that’s exactly what she was going to do.

**

Ryder wasn’t hard to find in the locker room, they had gym class together and the women’s locker room was the one place she could get to Ryder without David being around to pull her away. 

“Ryder, we need to talk.” She demanded going three rows downs to where she could hear Donna, Ryder, Audrey, and Holly talking.

 The redhead already had her gym shorts on and was pulling on the white t-shirt that had the property of Charming High stamped across the chest. She could see the red marks that darted along the collarbone and the swell of her breasts, and dark hickies. 

 “What do you want Tara?” Ryder questioned, already bored with the situation, she was finally happy, and having to deal with Tara was going to bring that down and she wasn’t ready for it. 

 “Jax is mine and the sooner you realize that the better off we will all be.”

 “This is how I see it.” The tall redhead girl commented as she pulled the shirt down and fussed with it to make it straight, “Jackson made his choice. Me. And I am with him until he doesn’t want me anymore and speaking from this weekend, that is never gonna happen.” Tara went to say something but was stopped by Ryder holding her hand up, “If you try to fuck this up Tara, there will be no one that will be able to find your body.” “The club doesn’t kill women or innocents.” She started causing Holly, Audrey, and Donna to laugh. “Who said anything about the club sweetheart? Old ladies and royalty like myself,” Ryder smirked as she pushed back her hair, “don’t have the same rules about who we can take out.” 

Tara took a step back surprised, Ryder, at times could be the polar opposite of what Gemma was but this was all Gemma Teller.  “And they will never find your body,” Holly added with her own smirk, she had learned where there’s a will, there’s a way, and in this case, there’s always going to be a way. 

** 

David Hale was already outside of the building when Jax and Opie parked their bikes, and he took steps toward them. The rumors of Ryder Winston and Jax Teller being together had been running rampant around the school and even though he had hurt Ryder beyond words, it felt like it was his duty to say something to him. 

Even if he picked Tara over Ryder. 

“Hale,” Opie commented lowly as he hung his helmet up on the handlebar, his eyes going first to the school looking for Donna and his sister then back to the boy standing in front of him. Jax’s left hand which was hanging to the side tightened into a fist. “You need to leave now.” He ordered as he got off his bike, he wouldn’t cause a massive scene at school, not when this thing with Ryder was so fresh. “I just want to talk about Ryder is all.” Hale held up both of his hands in surrender. The two men exchanged a look before they both started laughing, “Ryder isn’t any of your business anymore.”

 “She is mine and I won’t make the same mistakes you made with her.”  Hale tightened his jaw up so they didn’t see it drop in surprise. “You say that now Jackson but how long can you actually stay faithful to a girl? At least I tried. You will drop her as soon as another piece of pussy comes along. You did it with Tara and you will do it with Ryder. It’s only a matter of time.” Jax had caught sight of Ryder coming out of the school with Donna and their two friends and smirked, “Yeah we will see about that. I got her now, and I am not letting her go.”  

[everlastiingiimmortals]

@etherealguard asked:

Confession!

Chains bind his wrists over his head. They coil around his torso and sink their cold and stinging selves into his flesh. It's become far too numb to him at this point, ignoring the aches as he glances up and notices a familiar visitor.

"Jing Yuan..." He calls out to him. Voice hoarse, having to be forced out as if it was clawing through his vocal chords in order to get release. From here that golden eye seemed to glimmer in the dark. It hurt, the reminder that he has not spoken to him in a very long time. How he has not so much as raised his head to him in a while. Anything that Jing Yuan threw at him; the negotiation, updates on the Luofu, any pleas for a response- they were met with silence.

He would not judge him, if he ignored him now.

"I know what tomorrow brings." A dull tone, exhausted. Tomorrow will spell the end for him. Tomorrow will be the last instance of himself in this new life. He will undergo unnatural molting, will be reborn into someone new, and what will happen after that... He does not know. It's terrifying.

"I ask you.. if these are to be my final words to you, then to please hear me. I have done so much wrong to you. To Jingliu. To the Luofu and her people. And.. to Yingxing." What a horrid fate. The bracer had long since been taken from him, but he is aware of one thing; the body has not been found. His eyes squeeze shut briefly, despite knowing that no tears would come. He hasn't been provided with enough water to produce them.

"I wish I was able to lie to you, but I can't. I can not.. fully regret my actions. I can't say for certain that if I were to go back and had a chance to undo it.. I will. So much went wrong, Jing Yuan. So much. And that is what I wish I could fix. Everything I've done.. I did it for him. For you. For us. I simply.. wanted him to be happy. I wanted to ensure a world where we could be free from the strings of fate that seemed so desperate to pull us apart."

He sighs, tail instinctively attempting to flick, but it was forcibly pulled down by a large mechanism that held it in place. "Selfish.. I was selfish... I know I was." He winces every so often as he spoke. Fire courses through his raw throat, and it took much of his energy to ensure that his words had not become a mere whisper. There was no need to, it was just them, but he did not want to risk that the other would mishear something.

"Apologies can not fix this. I am aware. I have spent much of our time together with nothing to say but apologies. I will not waste our last few hours like that. I..." Suddenly he pauses, inhaling deeply. Desperate to catch air that seemed to have been lost. It's been years since he spoke this much for this long. It took him a moment to compose himself, suddenly more aware of the tightness in his chest. Whether that was the chains, or from the emotions that are bubbling inside him, he does not know. "You must know... That I loved you. Deeply. With everything I had and more. And Yingxing felt the same. We loved you so, so much Jing Yuan. Please do not allow my actions to ever make you assume otherwise. You were the sun in our sky. Our bright yellow flower that glowed in our darkness. You were family, and more. And not once did I ever regret proposing to you with that ring."

His head suddenly jerked forward. Wanting to fall and rest, yet he continues to force it up to face him. With his pause, a smile starts to break. Small, genuine, filled with adoration towards the Lieutenant. This may be the last time I ever see you. Oh gods, I hope I get to see you again.

"I love you, Jing Yuan. More than words can ever describe. I love your strength, your smile, your gentleness, you. I will always love you. No matter how my path will end, or where my soul will end up, my love for you will travel far beyond the sea that surrounds our home. I cherish every single memory I made with you and Yingxing. My heart may be gone, but I know all of this to be true. That I wish now more than ever that I got to experience what it was like to marry you. To promise myself to you, forevermore. Because this life.. this one was my favorite. Because you and Yingxing were part of it."

His body shudders in a cough, blood splattering across the concrete ground. Strength was spent, going limp as he heaves another breath in. "You may choose.. what you wish to take to heart. But at least accept this; I pray for your happiness. I pray that you will find joy, love, that whatever family you have after this will spawn generations of that same selflessness that you produce. Your heart is so big, my beloved. You care so much for all that is around you, but please, remember to care for you as well. Remember to be kind to yourself. You deserve so, so much, my heart. You deserve to live, and to find something new that made you happy. ...Can that be my last wish to you?

Can you remember this?"

Confession. Closed!

The depths of the Shackling Prison are cold. The room where Yinyue is being held, down among the lower floors, is colder yet still. No doubt to make it harder for him to struggle, to move. Jing Yuan suppresses a shiver as he stops to murmur to the guards. They turn to leave, and the vast room is empty, save for the two souls on either side of the cell.

He's prepared to sit in silence with Yinyue on his final full day of existence, but that raspy voice has him jerking his head up suddenly, eye widening. He'll be lying if he says he doesn't rush over instantly, hands reaching out to grasp the bars -- the closest he could get to the remaining half of his heart. "Yinyue..."

He's quiet as the tarnished High Elder speaks, torn between craving the sound of his voice, ruined as it was, and hushing him to beg him to save his strength. At the mention of Yingxing, Jing Yuan bites his lip, brows contorting in grief. The wound from having half his heart ripped out is still raw, still fresh, after all.

I simply... wanted him to be happy.

"I know, I know," he whispers, desperate in his attempts to soothe the Vidyadhara. "You don't have to tell me."

As Yinyue pauses to catch his breath, Jing Yuan's grip on the bars tightens until his knuckles turn white and he slowly slips to his knees. "Please, beloved--" he begins to beg, but it's clear that Yinyue has more to say. More he needs to say. Jing Yuan falters, unable to stop the tremble in his fingers. This is goodbye. He knows it, he knows. He's not ready, he already lost one, he can't lose another so soon, please, the world is moving too fast--

Not once did I ever regret proposing to you with that ring.

A dry sob rips itself from Jing Yuan's chest, one devoid of any tears, but the grief etched onto his face is unmistakable as he rests his forehead against the bars. "I love you too..." he croaks, unable to stop himself from flinching at Yinyue's coughing. "I..."

By this time tomorrow, Dan Feng will already be no more. What remains in his place will be a single, beautiful pearlescent egg. The babe developing inside will dream, and Jing Yuan can only hope that it'll dream of the tender moments Yinyue speaks of, that it'll remember the sensation of being loved by the brightest star in the sky and bathed in the warmth of the sun. And he...

He'll be alone.

This is goodbye.

"I'll... I'll try. I promise."

~~

Jing Yuan's eyes open slowly, listlessly, to the sound of birdsong and morning light filtering in through his room. He is alone. He raises one hand, turning it over and clenching it into a fist a few times. Though that night had been over seven centuries ago, the echoes of tight, locked joints, sore as they unfurl from gripping cold iron bars too tightly, remain even as the General wakes. The weight of the rings on his chest feel heavier. His eyes ache, but his pillow has remained dry, as has his face.

It takes more effort than it should to roll over and let his eyes slip shut again.

Yanqing will be coming soon, light footsteps racing against the floor, to wake him up, and he will smile and laugh and wrestle with the boy before allowing himself to be dragged up and out of bed. He will untangle the knots from his mane, get dressed, and step out into the cool air of the Exalting Sanctum as he always does.

But for now, he will wish for a few more minutes, and if he's lucky, a dreamless sleep.

I'm sorry, my heart. I tried, I did. I tried my best... but it seems I've broken my final promise to you.

I hope you can forgive me.

[maybeimamuppet]

"For the record this is self-destructive/ For the record I'm aware of that" w rejanis

send me a song lyric and a ship and i’ll write something based off it!!

tw for self harm/scars

mentioned outing/general homophobia

-

“I need a second before we go in, I’m gonna run to the bathroom real quick. I’ll meet you inside,” Janis says just before she and Damian enter the doors for Spring Fling.

“Ew,” Damian eloquently responds before he shoves her off in that direction and goes parading through the double doors. Janis rolls her eyes and clunks her way down the hallway towards the ladies’ room.

It’s kind of weird, being somewhere she’s been so many times before this late at night. She can hear the music from the gym thumping all the way down the hall, and all the lights but one are out. Almost like she’s in another dimension.

The one constant in every dimension is Regina George.

Janis is reminded of this as the blonde steps out from the stall furthest away from her and struts up to the mirror. She’s still unfairly gorgeous even in that spinal halo.

Janis tries not to let her shoulders tense as she pointedly refuses to acknowledge Regina’s presence. She touches up her dark lipstick, combs through the ends of her straightened hair.

“Janis,” Regina says, sounding almost surprised. Janis sags against the sink a little. Shit.

“Hey.”

Regina pulls a tube of glittery lip gloss out of her purse. She puts the tube in between her lips to unscrew it and swipes it on that way. She’s put her lip gloss on like that since they were in sixth grade. It’s almost comforting to know that some little details of her former best friend are still in there. It’s muffled around the tube when she says, “You look nice.”

Janis blinks in shock. Did-did Regina George just compliment her?

“Seriously?”

“I just said so, don’t be thirsty,” Regina tuts. So Plastic Regina is still there too.

“No, I mean- thanks, I guess,” Janis says. “But after everything you’ve done you’re just gonna say that like… nothing ever happened?”

“Yeah,” Regina shrugs. Well, as best she can with the halo. “Look, I know I have to change. I know I’ve been a bitch-”

“You can say that again.”

“But how am I supposed to start?” Regina says softly. “Unless it’s with you. I’m also, like, off my face right now, so I don’t really have a filter and now felt like a good time.”

Janis blinks at the pink-tiled wall behind her. Someone has brilliantly sharpied ur fuckin gay across it. And in a strange way, it makes Janis smile.

Because she is fuckin’ gay, and she’s proud of it now. And all it took was… the worst experience of her entire life, and the girl in front of her.

“You never cared,” Regina continues softly, knocking Janis out of her trance and back to the gross bathroom they’re in. “About anything I did to you.”

“What?” Janis says, unable to contain a dark laugh. “You seriously think I didn’t care? Did you miss the part where I tried to kill myself and was out of school for a year?”

“…You what?” Regina asks.

Janis shakes her head and undoes the buttons on the cuff of her navy blue sleeve. As she rolls it up she sighs, “Unbelievable.”

Regina reaches out a tender, immaculately manicured finger to run over the white, raised scar tissue permanently etched into Janis’ flesh. Space dyke. Cut as deep as the words did.

“That’s why you were in art therapy,” Regina says. Janis looks at her in confusion when she notices her voice is thick with emotion and sees tears rolling slowly down her face. “And I made fun of you for it.”

“Yeah,” Janis agrees softly. She feels like she’s dunked her head in a bucket of ice. Regina George is touching her scars. Janis hasn’t even let Damian touch them.

“I loved you too,” Regina says suddenly. “I-I panicked when you told me you liked me. You were so brave, and I’ve always been… such a coward. And I took all of it out on you. And you never deserved any of it. I’ve always loved you. And-and I still do.”

“I have too,” Janis says softly. Regina looks at her, icy blue eyes reddened by tears and probably a significant amount of painkillers. “Do you have any idea how fucking irritating it is to still be in love with the girl who ruined your life?”

“No,” Regina says. “But I know how much it hurts to hurt the one you love.”

“Then why did you keep doing this?”

“I couldn’t stop,” Regina says. “I got… hooked.”

“For the record, that’s self destructive.”

“For the record, I’m aware of that, thank you very much,” Regina huffs. “You’re a fucking boss, Janis Sarkisian.”

“You’re high,” Janis scoffs.

“Hohoooo, yeah,” Regina agrees with a goofy huffed laugh. “But I’m serious, too. You’re a fucking phoenix. You rose above everything I ever did to you, and now look at you.”

Janis does, turning to look at herself in the mirror. She can’t really see in the weird lighting, but she… likes what she sees looking back. She hasn’t felt that in a long time. Since the before time. “Phoenix.”

“And I wish I wasn’t the one that set you on fire, but I’m glad it made you who you are now,” Regina continues. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too,” Janis says. “For everything Cady and I did this year. I know Cady’s been eating herself up about it, too.”

“Does that girl ever sleep?” Regina chuckles.

“I don’t think so,” Janis laughs back. “But hey, first apologies for both of us are done. Makes letting her apologize easier.”

“True,” Regina says softly. “Can we be okay?”

Janis is quiet. She’s hit with wave after wave of memories and feels like she might drown. She looks in front of her and sees a life preserver.

She surges forward and kisses her. Regina gasps, but carefully maneuvers the halo to a good place to kiss her back.

“I think we can be okay. If we work on it,” Janis gasps when they break apart.

“For the record, this is self destructive,” Regina teases.

“For the record, I’m aware of that.”

But I don’t think it is.

[serenailith]

know when to fold ‘em

for @dreamlingbingo​

Square: a2, poker night Rating: m Word Count: 1003 Ship(s): dream of the endless/hob gadling Warnings: none Additional Tags: poker night, it wasn't meant to turn out this way but hob isn't arguing, or complaining, matthew does NOT wanna be around these two right now Summary:

Poker night was meant to be a way to pass the time he has with his Stranger, his Friend. Turns out, poker night can go a multitude of ways. Hob Gadling loves this second way.

Link: on ao3 masterlist

Hob glances at the cards in his hand before moving his gaze to the being across the table. Dream raises a brow and places a card facedown on the table. Matthew pins the card to the table with his beak, sliding it toward himself. It gets added to the small pile beside him before he picks up another in his beak and hops across the table to hand the new card to his boss.

The air of the flat is hot against his skin. His shirt lies in a rumpled mess at his bare feet, socks long lost. Dream sits primly across from him still done up in all his bells and whistles. Even his jacket remains buttoned to his throat, though he’s lost his cravat and one boot. Hob kept his simple—jeans, a button-down, an undershirt, socks, boxers, and a belt that was wholly unnecessary. He’s lost the belt, his socks, and his button-down, and is apparently well on his way to losing his undershirt as well.

Matthew ducks his beak under his cards one-by-one, peering at the numbers. He groans and clacks his beak after the last one. “Fuck it, I fold. And I’m out. I want no part in you two undressing further for this game that I have no idea why I was here for in the first place.”

“You begged like a child until we let you join, Matthew,” Hob says with a laugh, reaching for his beer.

“Well, you should have said no.”

“We did!”

“Matthew.”

“I’m goin’, Boss, I’m goin’.”

Matthew squawks then flies across the room. Hob stands, crosses to the window, and pushes it open. Once the raven is gone, Hob closes the window again, following it with the blinds, then returns to the table. Dream waits until Hob has sat once more then places his cards facedown.

“I am following Matthew’s example. I fold.”

Hob’s mouth runs dry when long fingers nimbly work the buttons of the midnight-sky jacket, from throat to waistline to hem. Each quiet pop of a button slipping loose sends shards of want down his spine; he wants to see what Dream wears beneath. What Dream looks like under all his layers, spread out before Hob as a gift to an undeserving worshiper.

But Hob will never have that. They are friends—friends!—and nothing more. Implying so will only destroy what they’ve managed to build. Hob would never be able to handle another 1889.

Dream folds on the next hand (remaining boot) and the next (sock) and the next (remaining sock). Hob’s brain finally kicks into gear after the sixth fold, (in his defense, Dream is now shirtless and undoing his jeans), and he reaches across the table to check Dream’s cards. A royal flush against his four-of-a-kind.

“Dream… There’s no way you don’t know your hand beats mine.”

“I am well aware.”

“But…”

Hob’s words cut off as Dream rises to his feet and slowly pushes the denim down his cream thighs to fall to the floor. Hob shamefully lets himself look his fill. From narrow shoulders and defined clavicle down a surprisingly sturdy chest to the concave of a stomach to—

Oh. Oh, God.

Hob very well may die without his permission, and he can’t even be upset at the thought. Not with the visible sight of a cock tenting his boxer-briefs. Dream steps daintily, surely, out of his jeans and rounds the table. Hob aches to nip at those sharp hipbones of a thin waist, to taste the skin beneath his tongue, to—

“You may,” Dream murmurs.

“Hrng?”

“Your dreams… Your fantasies… They have called to me, begged me to entertain them. Well, Hob Gadling, I wish to do more than merely entertain them.” Dream leans down to brush cool lips against Hob’s forehead, and his hands come up to cradle Hob’s jaw. He tilts Hob’s head so their gazes meet. “I intend to participate fully, many times over, until I am all you know. If you want for that, of course.”

“I want. God, do I want.”

Hob surges upward, further into Dream’s touch. Their teeth clack together, Dream huffs out a soft laugh, then it’s right. Then it’s perfect, and Hob can scarcely remember his own name. The flames in his blood flare higher when Dream’s tongue coaxes his lips apart, strokes against his own. Hob allows himself to be pushed backwards, guided by sure hands in a direction he knows leads to the bedroom.

The cards lay forgotten on the table. I love poker night, Hob thinks before promptly forgetting about everything else as Dream kicks the door closed behind them. It’s a show of privacy they don’t need; the front door is locked, all the windows, too. But if Dream wants that symbolism, then who is Hob to argue?

He’s no one. He’d be stupid if he did.

So he keeps his mouth shut—figuratively, of course—and falls onto his back on the bed. Dream rushes to lie atop him, their bodies lining up almost perfectly. As if they were carved for each other, as if they are missing halves to a whole. As if their existences have always led to this inevitability.

Dream doesn’t hesitate to slither down Hob’s body to yank Hob’s jeans down his legs. Once finished, Dream moves back to where he was originally. Hob arches his back, lifts his hips, seeks friction for his aching cock. Dream, thankfully, takes the hint. He rocks his hips against Hob’s and kisses away the gasp that bursts forth from Hob’s lips.

Each roll of Dream’s cock against his own brings Hob closer to the point he yearns to but doesn’t quite want to reach. Not yet.

“Wait, wait,” he pants, “I—I want—”

“I know, my love. But there is plenty of time for that, is there not?”

Time. They have that. They have forever, but he wants ‘forever’ to start now. Does Dream want that forever, too?

“Forever?” whispers Hob.

“Forever.”

Hob comes with the promise

[silvyysthings]

I’m an active part of this fandom, but will write you as anon.

I was also sexually abused as a child when I was a few years younger than Armie, by a close relative. The human psyche is a great miracle, because apparently I had subconsciously repressed all of this, and the memories themselves suddenly surfaced years later and shook me to my core. Shook me not by the act itself, because deep down I've always known it, but by my ability to bury it so deep in the dark that it had allowed me to live anything normally and even to contact completely normally and without any feelings with the person in question (thank God not very often). Perhaps this is my way of reacting to extremely shocking events for me, because years later, when a person extremely dear to me died in my arms, almost the same thing happened.

“Remembering” and fully aware of what happened allowed me to understand my behavior in various situations in my childhood and teenage years, and later my sexual preferences and restraints. I am really saying this from personal experience - such an experience, especially in childhood, changes a person completely and irreversibly, irreparably. And unfortunately nothing, no one, no therapy can repair the damage.

To tell about it takes enormous strength and courage and overcoming great pain and shame. Even more to admit it to the whole world like Armie did. No one close to me knows about my abuse and probably never will - parents, my husband, friends or anyone. The abuser has been dead for several years.

That's why my heart bleeds for Armie 💔 I completely understand what this recognition is costing him. I also understand all the mess in his life - mine is also a mixture of contradictions: depressions, completely happy periods, despairs and struggles with myself, constantly hurting the people I love.

Some might say - he should get his shit together for the sake of his children. I also have two wonderful children and believe me, that's not how things work. Children cannot repair and undo the damage that has been done. These are things on two completely different emotional levels that have no common ground and could not work against or for each other.

I pray and sincerely hope that Armie finds peace with himself, as much as possible, and truly moves on with his life fully and happily. 🙏 ❤️

oh anon my heart is broken for what you went through. I am completely convinced, even though I have never experienced it, that the brain tries to remove this trauma and that it takes terrible courage to admit and tell all this, as Armie did and as you are doing. I hope you and Armie can find some serenity in telling this even if nothing and no one can ever fill and soothe the pain of what you have been through. Thank you for choosing to tell this, I dare not imagine what you had to go through, I send you a hug and lots of love ❤❤