pspspp author this my first time requesting so i don’t know what to write down 😃 but can i request reader is from demon slayer world who got isekai’d into genshin impact? (isekai? transportated? portals?) thancc in advance 👏

anon..your brain is so big for this and i was thriving writing this. if you wanna read more of this,,,let me know,,haha 😳✋🏼

↠ pairing: xiao x demon slayer! reader

↠genre: kny x genshin crossover

↠ warnings: mentions of blood + corpses, violence

↠ words: 1.1k

↠ summary: And as the blood trickled down your blade, as the rain soaked your clothes and the moon illuminated your facial features like an ill omen, Xiao knew that you didn't belong.

Rex Lapis knew something had gone unexpectedly wrong when the ground beneath his feet shook in retaliation. As he called for the Yaksha's aid in sealing away evil and slaying the demon's tainting the land, fates which were never meant to meet suddenly became one. 

"You look troubled, Rex Lapis. Is anything the matter?" The female Yaksha spoke to the Geo Archon with genuine concern adorning her horned face. It was so unlike Rex Lapis to don a frown and wear confusion on his very sleeve for everyone to see. 

How was Rex Lapis supposed to explain what had gone wrong when he himself didn't know the answer? However, hiding his troubles was no option for the Geo Archon; not when his land was torn by war and stained with daily bloodshed. "I am uncertain of what has just transpired, but someone unusual has stepped foot into Liyue."

"Friend or foe?" 

"..I don't know."

A heavy discussion between the Archon and the four Yaksha was sparked by three, seemingly harmless words. One argued they shall be decapitated on the spot while others had no desire in spilling innocent blood. 

"Words won't get us any farther." Xiao's smooth voice cut through the tension in the room like a hot knife through butter. "I'll go find that person and make sure they don't cause any..," he paused and grabbed his spear, "..trouble."

Bewildered eyes looked at him as if he had lost his mind. "What if they overwhelm you and claim your head, Alatus? Will you still keep your promise then?" Another Yaksha crossed his arms over his chest in disagreement.

"A mere mortal claiming my head? When did you dream of such a delusion?" Xiao grumbled and pushed past his comrade with a light shove of his shoulder.

No other word was uttered as Xiao disappeared into the starless night in search of the foreigner who could either be evil or good. 

___________________

Weeks had passed when you woke up in an abandoned ruin with neither Giyuu nor Shinobu around. Instead of waking up to your comrades's faces, you were surrounded by foreign writings, crumbling stone walls and decaying bodies. 

Seeking answers in a small village, you learned that this world was called Teyvat and the region you were straying through was Liyue; a land tainted by demons. 

"You carry a fine sword with you." The old man mused, looking at the finely made sheath of your Nichirin Blade like it was an ancient relic. "Usually, the Yaksha carry out such dangerous jobs, but if you desire, you could help the people out by slaying demons."

Clenching your jaw, you gripped your tsuka just a tad bit tighter. Even in a different world, demons continued to make humanity suffer. Just how much blood did this land reek of? 

"In return, you might receive the answers you yearn for, young warrior."

However, you never received any answers; all you had gained was a silly title that had spread like wildfire throughout Liyue. Wherever you went, people immediately recognized you and begged for your help. Some even went as far as asking for your eternal protection; whatever that meant. 

The Human Yaksha, they called you. Someone who protected the mortal realm with a prowess strong enough to kill demons but with the fragile existence of a mere human being.

Such nonsense. You were human just like them and you could die at any time. 

_____________________

The sun disappeared behind mountains and made room for the moon to illuminate the sky. With no clear destination, you left yet another village and wandered through rough paths. 

Was there truly no turning back? Would you never get to taste Mitsuri's cooking, again? Would you ever witness Muichiro regaining his memories and would you ever be able to even catch a glimpse of your friends, once more?

Loneliness clung to your shoulders and sat heavy upon your heart. Pain filled every fiber of your being, your fist grasped at your clothed chest. 

Sudden footsteps and the cries of a woman ripped you back to reality and the sight of her was one you did not envy her for. 

In her slender arms, she carried the corpse of her killed baby. Blood stained her body and clothes, bite marks adorned her neck and deep scratches ran across her face.

"Help me!" She cried and fell to her knees right in front of you. The woman never let go of her dead child, her eyes full of tears. "Monsters! They wreak havoc! You're the Human Yaksha, right? I'm begging you, please help us!" 

Looking into the distance, you spotted a cloud of smoke and the faint smell of a fire filled your nose. "Ma'am, keep following this trail. It'll lead you to a safe village. Tell them [Name] sent you."

Before the woman could utter her thanks, you were gone. 

Wherever you came from, whatever you were, she was grateful.

______________________

The village infected with the disease called demons reached Xiao's ears as well; or rather his eyes. He could see the smoke rising up into the sky all the way from Jueyun-Karst. Xiao was sure that his search of the foreign guest would reach its conclusion there. 

After all, The Human Yaksha wouldn't let those of their kind die a miserable death, right? 

When he arrived, it was pouring and the ground got increasingly slippery. The fire in the village gradually died out, but the sound of a body being pushed into the mud came to life. 

The Yaksha followed the sound of strained breaths and groans on the verge of death. Under the moon, he saw your face for the first time. 

Bloody cuts from claws, smoke and dirt stained your skin. The expression on your face was both; calm and fierce as you danced with your blade through the puddles of blood and over the slaughtered bodies of demons. 

The demon tackled you to the ground, its claws digging themselves through the skin of your shoulders and drawing blood. You hissed in pain. 

"Die!" You yelled with a hoarse voice and cut off the demon's neck with lethal precision like you had never done anything else in your life. The body collapsed on top of you with a dull thud; you grimaced in disgust. 

Unlike back in your world, demons didn't dissolve into nothing. The corpse would bleed and remain like a normal body. 

You got up, breathing heavily into the corrupted night. 

And as the blood trickled down your blade, as the rain soaked your clothes and the moon illuminated your facial features like an ill omen, Xiao knew that you didn't belong.

The glimmer in your eyes cut through centuries of battles that had shaken Liyue and wrapped itself around the Yaksha's throat with the intent to kill. Just by looking at the ominous-looking man, you knew he was neither human nor demon. 

"What might you be?" 

"I should be the one to ask that. What kind of mortal is able to slay demons?" 

Werewolf Soulmate - Daniel Ricciardo

A/N: I hope you don’t mind that I mashed both your request together into one, and I hope you enjoy it.

Prompt D27— Soulmate AU - Everyone’s soulmate has the same fingerprints as you, One day you find someone’s phone, it unlocks.

Tropes: Soulmate AU, Werewolf AU.

Warnings: Mention of feeling left out, slightly angst, fluff?.

W/C: 1.5K

It wasn’t unusual in the world of supernatural creatures to have one of the family members as a werewolf and another one to be human, it was random, you were either born a werewolf if one or both parents were a creature of such nature, or you were born a human, it was always a surprise for the parents when they expected a child, in [Y/n]’s case, she was born first, and the eldest, her parents expected her to gain the werewolf gene since she was their firstborn, but that was not the case, her two younger brother’s, Oliver and Lando had gotten the werewolf genes, along with her two younger sisters, Flo and Cisca, [Y/n] almost felt like an outcast in her own family, her siblings were always allowed to go do what they please while she was locked up in the house.

And then there was the soulmate thing, she knew her siblings would easily find their soulmates due to their wolf senses, but she… the only way for a human to find theirs was with a fingerprint, your soulmate had to share the same print as yours, and that would be so easy to find, right? Because you can just ask some random stranger to show you their thumbprint… if only it was that easy.

[Y/n] lets out a sigh as she twirled her pencil in her hand, sketchbook open on her desk as she longingly stared out the window, her brother was due to leave for a Grand Prix any moment now and then her other siblings would be off to go do what they usually do, run and play around in the forest, explore the area as they called it, but [Y/n] wasn’t sure what was left for them to explore and discover, they’ve lived there their entire life, they probably did something else but didn’t want to tell her, afraid that she would look at them with sadden eyes before saying ‘Have fun, I’ll be here at home.’ She tried to hide her feelings from them, tried to hide the loneliness she felt in her own home with her own family, most days she wished she could just find a job and finally move out, so the sympathetic smiles could end when her siblings shared stories from their adventures during the day.

“[Y/n]!” Lando yells from the other side of the door before slamming his hand down against the door. “Open up you little shit!” [Y/n] drops her pencil on the sketchbook and pushed her chair away from her desk, she stood from her chair and moved to the door, she unlocks it and opens it to look at him, she didn’t dare say a word to him, waiting to hear what he wanted from her. “I asked mom and dad if I could take you along with me to the Grand Prix, and they said yes.” She takes a step back as she tilts her head to the side, her brows high as her eyes widen in surprise. “So pack a bag, I already bought the ticket, so you can’t say no.” He turns and leaves before she could say anything, this was the first time she was allowed to go with him to a Grand Prix, the first time she would be leaving the house and go to another country. “HURRY UP!” She quickly shuts her door and moves around the room as she found her suitcase and started throwing clothes in it.

☆→★→☆→★→☆→★→☆→★→

[Y/n] silently follows Lando through the paddock, keeping her head down and her eyes on his shadow, making sure not to lose him, the sun was brightly shining down on the earth, the weather was certainly much different from the weather she was used to, she had to wonder, how many people in the sport, working in an around this sport, were werewolves or knew about werewolves?

“I won’t tell mom and dad if you wandered off.” Lando suddenly says, she lifts her head to look at him. “I invited you along because I know how lonely you have to feel being stuck at home while we go off and do our thing.”

“So you feel sorry for me.” She says, to him, it must have felt like he was doing her a favour, but to her, it felt like he was just doing it because he felt bad for her, looked at her with sympathy. “If I had known that I would’ve stayed at home.”

“I’m trying to make be a good younger brother and make you feel like you’re part of this.” He says, she felt a slight pang to her heart, she never felt part of a lot of things, both their parents were werewolves as well, she was the human in the house, how that had happened… nobody knew, it was supposed to be a certainty that she would have been a werewolf as well, but it seems like the world was against that. “Wait… wait, that came out wrong.” She balls her hands into a fist as she felt her blood boil, she moves past him, bumping shoulders with him purposely, forgetting for a moment that it would hurt her more than it would hurt him, she didn’t care where she was going, she just needed a moment to herself to calm down.

She finds a gate that leads to the grandstands and grass for fans to sit at, luckily it was empty, and she had the open space to herself, she sits down underneath a tree, leaning her head back against the trunk, closing her eyes as she felt tears welling up in them, she couldn’t even count the number of nights she had wished that she could be a werewolf, quietly sob herself to sleep because she felt left out of everything, a walk in the woods? No, that’s for werewolves only, a run in the mountains? No, werewolves only.

“Ugh!” She groans out as she brought her hands to her head, gripping her hair as the tears slowly begin rolling down her cheeks, frustration and sadness mixed together.

Daniel’s wolf moved restlessly inside him, he had sensed his mate at the track and wanted to find them, he moved past people as he looked around frantically, hoping to spot his mate so his wolf could calm down, but it almost felt like he was getting farther and farther away from the scent, he makes a sharp turn, people quickly moving out of his way as his eyes changed to a red colour, everyone at the paddock knew about werewolves and were warned about who they were, they were taught when to move out of the way and when it was safe for them to move freely around them, and with the way his teeth was bared, everyone knew he was searching for something or someone.

[Y/n] open’s her eyes and looks down at the grass before spotting a phone laying there, she tilts her head to the side and reaches for it, who had left their phone there? Was she sitting in someone else spot? She taps the screen causing it to light up before showing her that it wanted to scan her fingerprint, she shrugs before placing her thumb on the spot, letting it scan her thumbprint.

“You.” An animalistic voice growled out, she looks up, her eyes widening in shock, Daniel stood in front of her, hovering above her. “Mate.” He growls out, she could see his red eyes and his teeth, she didn’t need to guess to know what he was, she had seen those eyes and teeth many times in her own home, his eyes flash down to his phone in her hands as it unlocks. “Soulmate…” The red vanishes from his eyes as his facial features became soft, she looks down at the phone in her hand, seeing his face on it along with his friends, her thumbprint had successfully unlocked it.

“I… I.” She struggles to form a sentence before looking up at him, he slowly lowers down on his knees in front of her, almost in a submissive form. “You… my… soulmate.” His wolf felt at ease knowing that she was his mate and he was her soulmate. “Werewolf.”

“How… how did you know I was?” He softly asks, forgetting for a moment he had glowing red eyes and k-nines that could rip anything to shreds.

“My siblings are werewolves.” She softly says. “I’m human though.” He had known, he could easily tell she was human.

“Then I don’t have to explain much.” He says, he wanted to reach out for her hand, he had noticed her eyes were red, and her cheeks were stained with tears. “Who made you cry?”

“My life…” She quietly says, he reaches for her cheek and uses his thumb to gently caress her warm skin. “What’s your name?”

“Daniel, Daniel Ricciardo at your service,” Daniel says, giving her a wide grin, she couldn’t help but giggle. “What is your name?”

“[Y/n] Norris.”

𝑩𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑺𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒔 [𝑨 𝑨𝒓𝒎𝒊𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒆 𝑯𝒖𝒙 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒙 𝑲𝒚𝒍𝒐 𝑹𝒆𝒏 𝑭𝒂𝒏𝒇𝒊𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 || 𝑭𝒓𝒐𝒛𝒆𝒏 𝑨𝑼]

||➸𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐈: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐀𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐚𝐧||

Summary:  After your sister's coronation, you hoped destiny had bigger plans for you. With the arrival of the king of Alderaan, you finally feel like your life will turn into a fairytale after so many years of being isolated. Maybe you shouldn've have been so hopeful. But not everyone gets a happy ending, and maybe the answers you seek are right down the hallway.

Tags/Warnings: Angst.

Author's Note: Hello! Well, here's chapter 2 as promised. Kinda didn't like the ending, took me 3 takes. I also left a easter egg somewhere in this chapter, wanna see who'll notice it :)) Feedback is much appreciated ♡ Hope y'all enjoy!

Taglist: @girl-next-door-writes

The ball room has never been so colorful like before, and you were certain you had never felt so many eyes laid on you like shadows in the dark. Like they were waiting for one single wrong move from you, a false step, so to say.

Your feet almost slid across the floor as you searched for your grandfather Palpatine in the crowd, he was nowhere to be seen. So many unfamiliar faces and no one to recognize, but again, you had no friends.

"Hello."

You turned around and met the brown eyes of your sister, Rey, who was staring at you with a relaxed smile.

"Oh, hello me?" You stupidly looked around in a brisk, "Uh, hi. You look beautiful! Is that mother's dress?"

An astonishing scarlet dress with a V neckline, you wouldn't say it was adequate for the coronation, but she looked amazing in it. Rey's new crown fit her head perfectly, you swore it was your father's crown but the newly red crystal on it made you doubt a little. What kind of crystal was that, anyway?

"I can say the same about you." Rey sweetly smiled and looked to the huge crowd dancing around the large gala room. She never looked at you for too long, you guessed it was merely because...well, you actually had no idea.

"Your Majesty, the duke of Alzakan."

"Alsakan! Duke of Alsakan! Ahem," You stared at Rey, and given to you two being sisters, you could sense how tense she'd gotten when a taller man approached her and overly exaggerated bowed down. You don't remember hearing about this duke's arrival, even if he made it seem like he was the brightest star of the room.

The queen gave him a polite nod.

"Your Majesty, as your most profitable trading partner, it is an honor to finally meet the true queen of Naboo." The man gently kissed Rey's hand, but even if it was just a respectful greeting, you didn't blame her for being tense. This duke had the energy of a child that ate too much sugar.

Behind Rey, you coughed by accident and it caught their attention as you saw both heads turn to you with brows furrowed. You got your perfect princess posture back and offered them a apologetic smile and a wave.

Rey put herself in front of you as a way of ending this embarassing moment and distract the duke as she offered her hand for a shake.

"I must say the same about you, Duke Pryde. My grandfather spoke very highly of you." This surely boosted Pryde's ego as he smug smirked to his guards behind him, "I hope our trade routes will remain as sucessful as they were with my parents."

"Well, I, uh." Their conversation faded to background noise as you tried to distance yourself from the spotlight and pretend this never happened, maybe if you slowly backed off nobody would notice the younger princess slinding off somewhere.

You felt too many eyes on you, even if your eyes were certain nobody was watching you. You did not plan on disappointing anyone, at least, not at your sister's coronation party. Full of grace, you looked to the crowd and surroundings, and your eyes paused on a strange symbol on the far away wall just to your right. It was a sixteen-rayed symbol inscribed within a hexagon, denoting an explosive force pushing against attempts to contain it.

You were quite sure you'd seen this symbol before, somewhere. Your eyes only focused on the sigil as you tried your hardest to search your memories for it. But, the closer you got to it, an invisible force pushed it further from your grasp. Just like sand slips through your fingers when you attempt to hold it.

In fact, you do not remember your childhood, nor your early teenage years. Not a single thing. You just remember the feelings after something traumatic had happened; the loneliness, the pain, the anger and more loneliness. Sometimes, as of right now, your mind didn't feel like your own, nor did your memories. They felt like they belonged to someone else. Someone who was not you.

Tu'iea eyes deceive tu, isar nenx jostas savimi

The whispers in the walls. There they were again. They always came from the walls, but you only say that because you hate to admit that they sound right next to you.

"(Y/N)?"

You loudly gasped as you turned around in a fright, your eyes met Rey's once more. She was frowning, and with a slight worried look painted on her eyes. Oh, you hoped nobody heard it.

"Is everything alright?"

You quickly washed off your scared face and laughed to ease the situation you were currently stuck in, hoping she wouldn't do any questions about it. Or mention it by any case.

"Dear stars, yes, I'm quite alright, thank you. It was probably just some bug."

She nodded, and only when she moved away from you that you realized Rey was holding your hand in a way of calling for your attention. Before moving to her side, you glanced an eye to the wall where the symbol was, but it wasn't there.

"This party looks so alive." Rey commented besides you, her eyes were as bright as stars in the sky as she watched the people dance like there was no worries in the whole galaxy.

"Maybe we could keep the gates open." You suggested, your heart full of hope. "Your queen now, Palpatine can't control us anymore. We can bring life back into the palace!"

"We can't just change things without thinking, (Y/N)."

"But why not? It can be like before. I don't understand." You softly grabbed her hands and stared into her eyes, "This party doesn't have to be the only one. We can have plenty of more!"

"That's right," She replied, and your smile stretched further, "You don't understand. You never will. Things will never be like before."

And just like that, you felt your heart shatter into millions of pieces, like somebody just pulled your heart out of your chest and stabbed it right in front of you. Even if you and Rey weren't close, she had never spoken to you that way. No, something changed about her.

Upon realizing her mistake, Rey let go of your hands and smiled, but a strange one. A forced smile.

"Forgive me, I...Excuse me."

Not even giving you the chance to apologize, you watched Rey disappear behind some group of horned beings, which you didn't even try to remember what they were before you heard another voice behind you.

"Princess (Y/N), we meet again." Kylo Ren, that voice was impossible to forget. "I was just about to meet the queen, did something happen?"

"Oh, no, she had to...to talk to some duke of Alzakan." You looked back at with, forcing the same smile Rey had just pulled ten seconds ago.

"You look upset." His coal eyes were analyzing you once more, as if he was trying to read your inner thoughts. His eyes were like black holes, you quote internally, so easy to get lost in. They held so many emotions within. Your mother used to tell you that your eyes are mirrors to your soul, and you believe it, most of the time. You wonder what kind of soul Kylo Ren had.

"I'm sorry, do you want to get some air?"

The king silently nodded and gave you the front lead to the palace private gardens, your most favorite place to wander around and be in contact with nature, since you weren't allowed to leave the palace's grounds.

The echoes of the enchanting gala sounds began to fade in the background at each step you took farther from it. The shiny walls were replaced by glass ones, the only barrier between you and the actual garden. It was ethereal at moonlight, a complete breathtaking view. If you were to choose a place to spend all of eternity, this garden would be the chosen one.

Saturn Gardens.

The name you remember choosing for them when you were a child. Which doesn't make a lot of sense since it's only one garden, but hey, who cares right? Saturn was a funny name, you had a slight feeling it belonged to a name of something you were deeply fond of, but you couldn't quite grasp what it was. Nonetheless, you were thankful you choose a good name for them.

Yvir always told you how heavenly you looked at moonlight, and you're sure of it. This place is almost magical, so peaceful and silent even when there's a party happening just on the end of the hallway. You remember falling asleep here a few times, either it was reading or painting. You were quite a multi-talent person thanks to growing up bored and isolated on a huge palace, so you've gained a few skills here and there. This place was your big centre of inspiration.

You felt free here, from all responsabilities and troubles of life.

You discreetly glanced a curious eye to Kylo, who was walking besides you and attentively exploring the garden with his eyes only. In your mind, you wondered if he had a safe place too. A place where he felt free of everything, where he could relax without troubles, or where he felt inspired. Maybe everyone has something like that, you're not sure.

"Truth be told, I have no idea why my grandfather ordered the gates to be closed, or why most staff was fired." You sighed while your fingers gently passed through some book pages laying there on the pale blue glass table. Kylo looked over to you with an intrigued gaze. "Or why my sister shut me out. It was always me and myself."

So distracted by your thoughts, you barely noticed Kylo taking your hand from the book and hold it. His hands felt warm, surprisingly, as you had imagined that they were cold as ice. In difference to yours, his hands were also far larger. It caused a small smile across your lips.

"I spent most of my childhood lonely too." He admitted, his eyes never leaving your hands. "My parents were either ignoring me or too busy to hear me."

You remember the stories about them, but you didn't want to cross the line and ask him. This conversation you and the king of Alderaan were currently having was something that already cross rule number three; never mention his parents. So this caught you off guard.

Probably noticing your tense posture, Kylo's eyes shifted to yours; they held such a curious yet comforting gaze, as if this was his attempt to say "it's okay" without actually saying those two words. The moon behind him made him seem like an angel.

"I know how you feel." He assured you calmly. You were so lost in his eyes, so lost in the way they stared at you. "You can talk to me."

If you could preserve this moment, you would. You'd keep it close to your heart and protect it from all darkness in the galaxy. The mighty and mysterious Kylo Ren, former prince and now king of Alderaan, just opened his heart to you and pronounced those five words that you had never been told before.

You hoped this wasn't a dream. It'd break your soul if it was.

"Do you dance?" Upon your sudden question, Kylo raised an eyebrow. You got up from your seat and twirled around, loving the way your dress moved. "Will you dance with me?"

Even if his lips didn't move, his eyes expressed all the emotions you needed. They were like a calm ocean, or the rising sun in a early morning.

"My lady," He politely offered you his hand, once more. "It would be my pleasure."

You smiled, the most genuine smile you'd had in a long time. Your heart was filled with joy and excitement, hopefully it wouldn't jump out of your chest by the way it was beating so fast. Faster than the way you rushed to the coronation. You never felt like this for someone, no, and definitely not for him.

His moves were calculated, but so tender-hearted and light. He twirled you around again and kept you close to his chest, one hand on your waist and another one guiding your other hand. At this point, you weren't even worried about making the wrong turn or stepping your foot on his. No, no, it was like your body was no longer your own, but knew perfectly which steps to take and you were glad for that.

In your mind, you imagined dancing like this with Kylo in the middle of a royal ballroom, but it was only you two. With or without music, it didn't matter, you and Kylo were too busy staring at each other's eyes to notice any background sound.

You had no idea how long you two had been dancing, but it ended so quickly.

"May I ask you something?" He asked in a strange, low voice.

"Of course, anything." You stepped a bit away from him once the dance came to an end.

Kylo traced lines alongside your hand, back and forth, and another hand came to meet your cheek as he slowly caressed it.

"Will you marry me?"

Oh dear stars.

Everything stopped around you, at least that's what you felt. You didn't even know what to say or do. Maybe, just maybe, the universe was finally showing you your destiny. That you were worthy of something just like Rey is.

The king of Alderaan had just asked you to marry him, and there was only one answer available to your heart.

You laughed and smile, nodding in happiness, "Yes!"

The ballroom was still full, everybody seemed to be having a great time just like you. Palpatine was nowhere to be seen, but Rey was seen talking to Duke Pryde and some others you assumed were also trading partners. Poor thing, a part of you felt guilty she had to spend her party talking to them. She didn't look happy. But maybe the news you're about to give her will make it up. That's what you hoped for.

Moving through the crowd as you held Kylo's hand had already got you lots of side-eyes and surprised gasps and whispers. This will entertain them for a very long time, and you didn't even try to hide your smile. Why would you? You're the most happy person in this room right now, and you were not going to hide your emotions again.

"Rey! I mean, your Majesty, may I speak to you, please?"

She nodded, excusing herself from the boring companies, and followed you to a more empty space of the room.

"I, I mean, we'd like to ask for your blessing on," You and Kylo looked at each other for a brief moment, "on our marriage!"

Rey almost chocked on her drink and quickly put it down on a table.

"Ma,Marriage?" You nodded. "I'm sorry, I'm quite confused here."

"Well, I know it's a bit of a sudden, and we haven't planned the ceremony, but it could happen here! Just like mother and father's wedding." You chuckled innocently at the thought of it.

"If Your Majesty doesn't mind it, of course." At this comment, that you didn't spare a thought, Rey furrowed her brows at Kylo in a angry stance and dismissed him completely.

"We could invite everyone in the kingdom! We could get so many songs to play and the decoration, oh I'll need to talk with Yvir." You put your hands on your hips, going through a mental list of preparatives for the wedding. You couldn't wait to tell Yvir.

"(Y/N)-"

"Oh stars, I hope you don't mind if Kylo stays here until the wedding! I'll need a few days to plan everything-"

"Absolutely not! (Y/N)!"

You stopped, her loud voice kicking all thoughts you previously had. Kylo, next to you, stared at her with indifference, like this somehow didn't even surprise him.

Rey inhaled calmly, "With all due respect, your Majesty, but my sister can't marry a man she just met."

"What? You can't decide that for me, Rey. I'm an adult, just like you." You crossed your arms, eyebrows furrowed just like hers. Your sister's expression turned to a more uncomfortable one, and you had no idea why this was making her be like that.

"(Y/N), you're too young to know about love."

"And I suppose you know instead? All you ever did was shut everyone out. You shut me out."

All the eyes in the room were now on you three, this time not even a single whisper was heard. Even more silent than the gardens. Rey shifted uncomfortably on her feet, moving her fingers repeatedly, a panicked gaze on her eyes.

"(Y/N)-"

"Just why, why do you do this? Why did you shut me out? What are you so afraid of?" Unlikely and unexpected, you screamed at her, only to regret it the moment that sentence left your mouth. But it was too late.

"That's enough, (Y/N)!"

A rash strong blow sent Kylo flying across the room. Hadn't it been for Kylo placing himself as a shield in front of you, you knew that was intended for you.

"That's the force." Somebody said.

"She's a Jedi!"

Catharsis (Villain!Deku x Fem!Reader) Chapter Seven

A/n: The moment you all have been waiting on is here! Enjoy this hectic chapter!

**CHAPTER WARNING: This chapter contains death of multiple ages! You have been warned.

This story will contain dark themes! Please read the warning!

Summary: An unexpected death of a loved one can lead to a sudden influx of emotions. Those same emotions can become repressed, as denial and disbelief comes into play. In this time, one would seek a means of catharsis, a release from those strong, repressed emotions. But what would you do if that means of catharsis, the same release you sought so hard for, becomes addicting? To the extent, that you feel you can not live without it? What if it can’t live without you? **WARNING: This story MAY contain; bullying, suicide, depression, torture, manipulation, mentions of sexual assault, and MORE! You have been warned.

Masterlist

Prologue II Chpt 1 II Chpt 2 II Chpt 3 II Chpt 4 II Chpt 5 II Chpt 6 II Chpt 7 II

(Gif by @bonniebird) 

 Chapter Seven: Head Wounds and Crying Pleas

You hiccupped as you finally crossed the threshold of the entrance gate of U.A.. Your fellow students eyed you curiously as they rushed to class, wondering why a bloody girl was heading in the opposite direction as everyone else. Your fist clenched around the straps of your backpack, as you willed yourself to calm down. There were so many emotions coursing through you that you didn’t know what to do.

You wanted to cry; Not out of sadness, but out of frustration. 

You had such a build up of emotions, that you didn’t know what to do with them; how to get rid of them. You had the strong urge to smash something to bits, to completely destroy anything just to let out all this frustration. This anger. This resentment. The loneliness.

The guilt.

You stomped farther away from the school, wanting to run away from what you wanted to say was the reason for all of your unwanted emotions; however you knew that it wasn’t only Bakugo and his accusations that put you on edge, it was what happened last night.

No matter how much you told yourself that that villian wasn’t Izuku, you knew better. You knew what Izuku looked like, like the back of your hand. His every feature was engraved in your mind, and there was no denying that the person on the t.v. last night, the one who caused so much destruction, was Izuku.

Even if his face was slightly obscured by… the shadows, you could still tell who it was. In your heart you knew it was Izuku, despite your brain telling you that it was impossible, that he was dead.

Pushing past a small group of bystanders, your eyes landed on a 7-eleven. Deciding that it was as good of a place to skip school at, you entered the store, immediately making your way to the sitting area, taking a spot near the front window; far away from the cashiers at the register, hoping that they wouldn’t question why you weren’t in school, nor kick you out for loitering. You shed your school jacket and tie, using the tie to dab away the blood flowing down your face. Standing up, you held the tie to the cut as you made your way down the aisles, finding a small first aid kit, a bottle of water and a few meat buns. The cashier gave you a weird look as you made your way up to the register, but you simply set the items down on the counter and pulled out your wallet. After paying for everything with the money you were supposed to use to get lunch, you sat back down at your spot, ripping open the first aid kit, and using your phone as a mirror to properly access the wound. The cut wasn’t big at all, only about half an inch in length, so you were able to use a few alcohol wipes to clean it out, before placing a bandage over it.

Trying to seem less noticeable, you put on the light jacket you kept in your bag for the chilly morning winds. It wasn’t much, but at least people wouldn’t know that a U.A. student was skipping; that wouldn’t give you a good reputation as a future hero.

You silently took small bites of your food, your appetite gone, but trying to keep up the appearance that you belonged there just as much as anyone else. Trying to make yourself seem busy and nonchalant, you pulled out your phone, noticing a few text from Hagakure and Ojiro, the only two in your class to have your number. You ignored the messages, swiping them off the notification bar so they’ll be easier to forget. You scrolled through the different social media platforms you had, trying to distract yourself with funny videos to pass the time.

After a solid hour of casually sitting and scrolling, you glanced around. No one seemed to pay you any attention, which was good, but you knew you couldn’t sit in the store for the rest of the day. 

Concluding that it was late enough that you probably wouldn’t run into anyone you knew, you decided to roam the city for a bit, before trying to find a place to lay low once again. You knew for certain there was a public library around a 30 minute walk away, so that would be the perfect place to hide out for the rest of the school day. 

Shoving what was left of your belongings into your bag, you quickly left the 7-eleven, blending in with the crowd walking past perfectly. You kept your head down as you walked, mind still racing with thoughts of Izuku. 

The villain from last night couldn’t be him.

Mama Midoriya saw the body. She confirmed it.

There was no chance in hell that she made a mistake. You were the one that comforted her after she saw it. 

You were the one who held her in the middle of the night when the both of you had nightmares for the weeks following his suicide. 

You were the one who consoled her when she confessed to seeing his dead bloated body everywhere she looked.

It couldn’t have been him.

Right?

You were broken away from your thoughts when there were a series of loud chirping and vibrations. Glancing around, you saw everyone look at their phones. Almost as if on cue, your phone vibrated, the screen lighting up. It was a warning.

A nearby villain warning.

You suddenly heard a loud explosion, and screams. Immediately, the people surrounding you scattered in a panicked frenzy. With wide eyes, your head snapped around, trying to figure out which way the explosions came from, so you could run the other way. You didn’t even know where exactly you were, having absentmindedly followed the crowd in any random direction when you were lost in your thoughts. You scanned the area, seeing that there was a large building to your right, the base of it being a cafe with large windows occupying the entire front.

BOOM!

Glass rained down on you from above as waves of debris crashed down around you. You cried out as the glass punctured through your clothes, and into your skin. You scrambled to flee the danger zone, feeling pieces of debris hit your back as you cowered, taking off your bookbag to use it to  protect your head, but it was too late. A rock the size of a fist bounced off the back of your head, causing you to fall down nearly unconscious. 

More debris rained down on you, but you couldn’t focus enough to even think of using your quirk. Your eyesight was blurry, and your hearing muffled. You didn’t even wince when another explosion sounded from somewhere above you, causing more debris to fall. You felt someone kick your side as they ran past, not bothering to even give you a second glance as they ran for their lives.

However, the sight of a figure moving from the corner of your eye caught your attention.

It was a man.

He was wearing a designer t-shirt and ripped jeans. Brightly colored, expensive looking sneakers. Dark, coily short black hair, and dark brown skin. 

A regular civilian.

 But in your eyes, a hero.

His arm was outstretched towards you, his face contorted into a worried panic. His dark brown eyes shot around you as he crouched low, attempting to avoid being hit by the falling wreckage. His hand grabbed ahold of your arm as he attempted to pull you away from the collapsing buildings. 

A savior.

But, you could only watch as his face suddenly contorted into one of pain, his mouth dropped open. A short shrill scream erupted from the man as a large boulder of concrete slammed onto him, crushing his entire body from the shoulders down.

Red.

That's all you saw as blood sprayed onto you.

The man gurgled on blood for a few seconds before silencing. You watched as what was left of his upper torso became limp, his hand still around your upper arm.

Your breathing became restricted.

Eyes wide. 

Body trembling from fear.

You didn’t want to die.

Not like this.

Not now, not ever.

Your body reacted on its own as it stood, dashing away. Your head snapped around, trying to find a way out. Dust and ash floated in the air, making it impossible for you to even see 15 feet in front of you. You dashed in a random direction, dipping and dodging debris as you went. 

Stopping for a single second to gather your bearings, and to see if you could see an exit, you almost gagged when you saw a mangled body a few feet away from you.

A child.

It was a fucking child. 

Sobs racked through your body as you spun away from the corpse, sprinting in a different direction. A scream left your lips as you begged for anyone to help you, but you doubted anyone could hear you from over the explosions still happening. Finally leaving the ash cloud, you sprinted down a random empty road, the explosions become slightly less prominent as you sprinted a few blocks away, only to find even more abandoned wreckage. You turned another corner, finding yourself embedded in a collapsed alleyway. 

From the look of the destruction, it seems as if the path of the wreckage went straight from where you are now, down the street to where you were before; meaning that you ran in the direction the wreck started in, with whatever causing it possibly passing you in the opposite direction,

You crumbled to the floor on your hands and knees, the adrenaline from the attack leaving your body. A loud piercing scream left you as you wailed out. You couldn’t focus. The only thing on your mind was…

Red. 

The look on the man’s face as he was crushed trying to help you.

His hand that was on your arm.

The child.

The poor child.

All red.

You crumbled onto your elbows, sobs sending tremors through your body.

Where were the heros?

Why did that man have to die trying to save you?

He was a civilian!

Red.

Why him?

Where were the heros?

Why didn’t they save that child?

Red.

Why didn’t they save you?

Red.

You mind was clouded. You knew you probably had a concussion, if not from Bakugo bashing your head into the wall early, then surely from the rock slamming into your head. You felt light-headed; you could feel your brain throb painfully. Your vision was still blurry. The only thing you could smell was the blood covering you.

So much red.

Your arms gave out on you, sending you onto the floor on your side, back against the wall.

The pain in your chest was the worst it has ever been before, feeling as though it would completely burst at any moment.

You could barely keep conscious, listening as the explosions grew fainter. You weren’t sure if they were getting further away, or if it was an effect of losing consciousness. Your eyelids felt like they were getting heavier, but you forced them open.

Your body felt hot, like you were baking in the sun. Your mouth was dry, as if you hadn’t had water in days and were dying of dehydration. Your stomach gurgled loudly, as you barely resisted the urge to vomit.

That's when you saw it.

A figure walking closer to you. The sun seemed to perfectly backlit the figure, temporarily leaving them a featureless black shadow.

Finally. A savior. 

A new hope.

No more red.

It was when that figure stepped closer, that you recognized the once hidden features,

“Izuku?” You managed to whisper out, eyes drooping closed for a second, before you could force them open again. 

The figure stopped walking, standing still in place. Their head tilted slightly to the side. Suddenly, your body was yanked up, and slammed into the wall. A slick, cold thing wrapped itself around your throat, holding you off the ground. The figure stood still where it was, as if waiting for you to continue talking.

It was him.

Even with blurry eyes, you could tell it was him. The sun lit his green hair angelically as he stood there. You didn’t even need to clearly see his facial features.

Green.

No more red.

It was him.

You could feel it.

“P-please,” was all you managed to mutter out hoarsely with tears freely running down your cheeks, even as the thing around your throat had tightened, cutting off your air. “Please don’t leave me again.”

That was all you wanted. To not be lonely anymore. To be there for him. To get rid of the guilt.

For the pain to end.

Your eyes started to roll to the back of your head as you choked, your feet kicking as they tried to touch the floor; before the hold around your throat loosened, no longer choking you, but merely holding you up. The, what you could only describe as a tentacle, began to warm up suddenly. 

Your mouth dropped open as a low moan escaped your lips when the warmth seemed to seep through out your body, your body quivering as it seemed like every nerve in your body was touched by this pleasurable warmth. Your senses heightened as your quirk turned on automatically. You could hear Izuku step closer to you, your eyes unrolling for a few seconds to see him grinning widely, crazed love in his eyes as he stared at you as if you were a long-lost lover that he finally found after decades of searching.

The sight of his big green eyes, beautiful smile, and freckled cheeks made another cry leave you, as you reached your hand out in an attempt to caress his cheek.

“Please, I love you,” You whispered, your voice seeming to have left you. 

Dark shadow-like spears erupted instantaneously from behind him as his grin grew larger.

“I’ve missed you, my love,” He uttered, before the shadow spears spread out, covering the both of you in complete darkness. You closed your eyes, letting go of a relieved sigh.

The pain in your chest has lifted completely.

*Two Weeks Later*

Aizawa huffed as he quickly made his way down the hall towards the teacher’s lounge. He cursed quietly to himself, as he knew he was 10 minutes late for the emergency faculty meeting. He had gotten distracted talking to the parents of one of his students who had been missing for the past two weeks. 

The police haven't been able to find any evidence of where (Y/n) (L/n) had disappeared to, but according to the statements from some of her old Junior High classmates, Aizawa wouldn’t put it past her to have just run away. His students told him of the fight she had with Bakugo in the halls the day she disappeared, and he had seen the footage of the Battle Training fight between the both of them. It was clear that she has dealt with serious depression and trauma, and was pushing her emotions onto Bakugo.

Speaking of Bakugo, he seems to have been the one most affected by the disappearance of the girl. Over the course of the last two weeks, Bakugo has become even more violent, diving head-first into any physical training Aizawa assigned; the bags under his eyes becoming a dark purple as if he refused to sleep until the missing girl was found. Aizawa didn’t know if it was due to guilt, or something else, as Bakugo refused to tell him or the police what the fight in the hall was about.

Aizawa ran a hand down his face as he finally made it to the faculty meeting room. He swiftly opened the door, his eyes scanning the room. All the staff was present, and staring directly at him. He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, before heading towards his seat next to Hizashi.

“We have been waiting for you, Aizawa.” Nezu spoke up, his usually cheerful demeanor gone. Aizawa took a deep breath, knowing that this meant this meeting was serious and important.

“There are a few things we have to discuss today, that will all tie together in the end. The first thing to discuss is the new information on the villain, Deku.” He continued, the projection in the middle of the table showing the latest picture of ‘Deku’ which was taken only two weeks ago, during the destruction of the district not far from the school. Once again, Deku was suited in a white dress shirt, black dress pants and vest, and dark dress shoes. He was floating by a building that was in the process of falling, glowing green eyes shining with excitement. More of his green hair showed from beneath his mask of shadows. “The police will not publically announce this, but they have all but confirmed that the secret identity of Deku is Izuku Midoriya, the kid who was once thought to have commited suicide.”

All the staff in the room looked down grimly, hating the fact that such a destructive villain was actually a child no older than the kids who attended the school. The picture on the screen shrunk in size, as the same picture of Izuku Midoriya from the last meeting popped up next to it. Nezu cleared his throat, before continuing.

“That is not all. As all of you know, one of our students from class 1-A has disappeared two weeks ago. The police has admitted to me that, according to eye-witnesses who spotted her during the attack, they originally believed she was one of the many victims of the buildings collapsing--”

“Originally? What do they believe now? It’s possible she may have perished during the attacks, we are still cleaning up the damage from the 5 buildings collapsing. We’re finding new bodies everyday,” Thirteen spoke up, cutting Nezu off. Nezu sighed, before the projection switched to a video from what seems like a security camera. Before pressing play, Nezu spoke up once again, shifting everyone’s attention back to him.

“Before I play this video, there is more I would like everyone to know. The police has done more digging into the life of Izuku Midoriya. Born on July 15th, to mother Inko Midoriya and father Hisashi Midoriya,  Izuku Midoriya was born and raised near the Shizuoka Prefecture. According to his quirk registration information, Midoriya was born quirkless. He attended Aldera Elementary, where he became friends with...” Nezu said, before another picture popped up on the projection, covering the video. “...(Y/n) (L/n).”

The entire room seemed to have gasped, as the picture of a young looking Izuku Midoriya and (Y/n) (L/n) filled the screen. Both children were no older than 10 years old, grinning brightly and wearing All Might merch, while (Y/n) seemed to be climbing onto Izuku’s back. The picture switched to an older version of the two, this one they were posing side by side, making silly faces. The picture switched one more time, they looked even older in this one, both wearing what looked to be a Junior High uniform. In this one, Midoriya had his arm wrapped securely around (L/n)’s shoulder, his cheeks flushed bright red as one of her hands cupped one of his cheeks, her lips pressed to the other. They were seated on a couch, with birthday decorations thrown around them, (L/n)’s legs tossed onto Mirdoriya’s lap. All of the pictures were taken by a third party, probably one of their parents.

 “The two grew up together, and according to Inko Midoriya, the two began dating towards the beginning of their Junior High career. Throughout this time, Izuku was heavily bullied in school for being quirkless, and neither had friends aside from each other.” Nezu paused, as if what is following was tough to say. “According to a classmate of the two, the one who most heavily abused the two, was… our own class 1-A’s Katsuki Bakugo. According to the same classmate, Bakugo, and Midoriya were once childhood friends, but that changed when their quirks began to develop. (L/n) then transferred into the school, and became friends with Midoriya to protect him from bullies. The bullying continued, up until Bakugo told Midoriya to kill himself a week before the ‘body’ of Izuku Midoriya was fished from the sea.”

The room of staff all shook their heads in disbelief, their hearts heavy for the lives the children went through.

“Now that we know that Izuku Midoriya is actually not dead, that leaves the question of what this has to do with the recent disappearance of (Y/n) (L/n). The cops have come to the conclusion that (L/n) broke up with Midoriya, which sent him off the edge to ‘commit suicide’. While they are not sure about how and when Midoriya went to the dark side, they believe he did it because of everything that happened.”

“How did they come up with that? That it was a break up?” Midnight asked, confused as to where this radical idea came from. 

“According to the classmate, the two had a serious fight the day before Midoriya took his life. This is the only explanation they have for the events of what will happen in this video. This footage took place during the aftermath of the Deku attack two weeks ago.” Nezu said, before closing the pictures on the screen, and pressing play on the video.

The video was smeared slightly with dust and ash, and was tilted at an awkward angle, but everything was clear enough to make out. Sadly, there was no audio. It showed an empty alleyway, with the farside of the alleyway being blocked off by a collapsed wall. The alley remained empty for a few more seconds, before a figure suddenly fell into frame. It was (L/n). She was covered in blood, and heaving heavily. Her body fell to the floor, and it looked as though she was sobbing. Her body then collapsed to the side, revealing her bruised face. She looked nearly unconscious, her eyes drooping as she tried to stay awake. Then, another figure appeared near the entrance of the alley.

Deku.

His body was void of any of the shadows he used to hide himself during his attacks, giving the teachers and pro-heros a perfect look of his face. A shadow-like tentacle suddenly shot from Deku’s hand, wrapping around the poor girl’s neck and slamming her into the wall. (L/n)’s lips moved as if she was saying something.

“The poor girl’s begging for her life…” Recovery Girl muttered, looking close to tears.

Deku didn’t seem to say anything, but grinned wickedly, a crazed look on his face. (L/n)’s eyes rolled back, and her body began to shake as the tentacle shifted slightly, in what Aizawa could only determine, was it tightening it’s hold on her neck. The girl’s mouth dropped open, in what could have been a silent scream, the look on her face sending shivers down the teachers’ back. They saw her quirk light up her skin, as she raised a hand, trying to save herself. Their view was suddenly blocked by large shadow-spears rising from around the two, lingering for a few seconds, before disappearing, along with both Deku, and (L/n). The video came to a stop then, before Nezu spoke once again.

“Sadly, there is little we can do about this situation. I am closely working with the police to find the possible location of Miss (L/n), but until we find some clues, we just have to be very careful for the upcoming weeks. I expect you all to help any officers that come to you with questions about this case. We are trying not to let this get out to the public because this has little to do with UA other than her being one of our students, but if it does come around to personally involve UA, I am more than willing to make a public statement. Meeting dismissed.”

Despite being given the go-head to leave, all the staff stayed in their seats, heads swarming with thoughts about (Y/n) (L/n), and whether or not she is still alive.

“Doubt it,”Aizawa thought with a heavy heart, his eyes locking onto the figure of All Might across from him. All Might sat in his regular form, head in his hands, seeming to have taken the news the worst of them all. Vlad King, who sat next to All Might, put his hand reassuringly on All Might’s shoulder.

“You can’t save them all. This isn’t your fault.”

~

Death and readers first time

trashy-basura said to darksiderwritings:                                                                            can we get a lovely fic with having sex with death for the first time?            

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OH boy I’m back y'all! I’m working on an AU for my blog. This is a universe where the apocalypse hasn’t happened yet and humans can hold their own. I hope y’all like it! I’m gonna write some stuff explaing my AU in a bit!

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Death’s fury was palpable in the air. He and one of angel commanders were in the middle of a heated argument about how the battle was a mess and the prideful angel made a comment about how Death was a dirty mutt and it quickly became the straw that broke the camel’s back. This mission has been nothing but a series of unlucky incidents due to the angelic commanders turning a blind ear to Death’s strategy. You shouldn’t have accepted this assignment after all. The White City has been dealing with an infestation of corruption on one of the outer worlds they established a base on. They’re own forces have been unable to deal with the unending waves of specters and hollows. The angelic forces were beginning to lose their own numbers to the swarm as well as corruption overtook them. In their desperation the throne of the White City reached out to the council for assistance. In response they ordered Death to wipe out the swarm. Death knew the angelic army wouldn’t be of much use in this endeavor, so he came to you for help. You were a high-ranking Magi in the Earth Defense Force, and you believed you were close friends with Death. You readily agreed to help and convinced the commander of the EDF to send out a strike force. Leading you to this very moment.

Death took a step towards the unlucky angel gripping harvester tightly in its dual scythe form. You didn���t even notice it being summoned to him. The angel commander stuck his chest out in response and you quickly marched to place yourself between the two fools.

“Alright! Enough is enough!” you say sternly.

You spin towards the angelic commander and place your hands on your hips “You need to learn to keep your mouth shut.”

The commander sneered down at you and opened his mouth to reply.

“No” you interrupt him, “You do NOT interrupt me.”

You begin to walk towards him forcing the angel to walk backwards toward the door of the makeshift command center.

“This entire mission has been a complete mess because of you, and I’ll be sure this reaches your superior.” You keep walking towards him. “I do Not tolerate blatant racism. YOUR commanders asked us for help and we kindly have. It would be best for you to leave now before there’s a homicide and we pack up our forces and leave your army to  with your mess alone.”

The angelic commander flushed in embarrassment and stumbled out of the door without a word. You let out a sigh of relief and of annoyance. You turned towards Death who had been quiet during the exchange. He was staring down at the ground with his hands clenched so tightly around Harvester you thought it the hilt would snap. Your gaze softens and you slowly approach your friend.

“Death,” you say softly, “are you okay?”

You reach out very slowly to rest your hand on his forearm. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that.” You say try to console him. You rub his arm to try to comfort him. “Sweetheart you should sit…”

Death’s head suddenly snapped up and he pulled his hand away from yours roughly.

You blink in confusion. This is an unusual  reaction from him even if he is angry. “Death I’m sorry if I..” you say in shock to his reaction.

He’s never reacted to your touch like this before. You worried you pushed to hard this time. Death grabbed you without warning by your throat and slammed you into the wall. You couldn’t breathe and your heart was racing in your chest.

“I do not” Death growled, “need your help.”

Your lungs were on fire and your vision was beginning to turn black at the edges.

He continued “I do not need your pity or comfort.”

You could feel tears begin to sting your eyes. Death lurched backwards, releasing you once the tears fell down your cheeks. You crumpled to the ground coughing, trying to suck air into your lungs.

“You annoy me. You constantly cling to me like a child. I do not care for you.” Death spat out. Those words felt like a gut punch. You said nothing as he turned on his heel and marched out.

He had already left camp by the time you composed yourself and left the command center. You gave your men the order to begin breaking camp and to get ready to go back to earth. You exchanged a few terse words with the angelic commanders before your team was ready to go. You were ready to go home and be alone.

Once you arrived back to the Earths Defense Force’s headquarters you entered a daze. You got your men settled and begin on the tedious tasks that needed your attention. You hardly remember the paperwork you filled out and what you said in the debrief on how the mission went to commander Morrison. You only remember how enraged you were as you told him how ridiculous the angelic forces were. You can recall he said something to the affect of how he would handle it and to head home. He first forced you to go to the med bay to be checked out.

Your favorite doctor, Angelica, freaked when she saw the bruises around your throat. You shrugged it off and said it was nothing to worry about. Angelica wasn’t happy with that, but she let it go once you let her fret over you. She would only release you if accepted her strict orders for a leave of 3 months and she was surprised when asked if she could make it 6. Angelica tried to ask you what was wrong, but you didn’t tell her the truth. You just told her you were burnt out and needed rest. She was happy with that and happily agreed to push for 6 knowing not even Morrison, commander of the most powerful force on earth would argue with her. After leaving Angelica’s watchful eye you somehow managed to make it to the motor pool and make your way home.

You lived off base like most people, although your home is farther than most. You lived in a secluded home that was surrounded by forests and fields. Your position had its perks and came with a nice paycheck. You hated attention and liked your privacy so living in the middle of no where suits you. Once you got home you fell into your bed and became dead to the world.

When you woke up you just laid in bed not able to move. Your heart hurt and it felt like a knot was lodged in your throat. Your finger brushed against your throat going over Death’s hurtful words. You started to reminisce about the past. You and Death meet many years ago when you stumbled through a portal fighting a hollow. Hollows were humans consumed by corruption and only a select few could fight them. The creator pitied humans after seeing how the race struggled against outside forces and imbued some with outstanding abilities. Those chosen were called Magi. Magi are naturals with bending magic and nature and have different forms and levels. Hollows and magi both have different levels of power. The highest of which was the triple SSS class and you were one of them. In fact, you were the only human with ranking SSS.

Years ago, you were in a battle with an SSS class hollow. You almost leveled the city you were in. In your desperation to move the fight you managed to rip a portal open and landed on a backwater world that the angels had a base on. You and the hollow were knocked out in the process of landing there. But that’s a story for another time. You meet Death there first when the council sent him to check on the disturbance. You instantly clicked with him and you felt like the two of you had become close friends. You honestly fell head over heels for him. You’ve been flirting with him since you meet but you don’t think he noticed. You know he thinks of you as a friend too. You know yesterday was an outburst due to the situation and was just striking out in anger. You understand that but it still hurt.

You couldn’t let it drag you down anymore. You forced yourself out of bed and got to work on your daily chores and training. You continued your normal daily routine for 3 months uninterrupted. Being the only SSS class Magi had its perks thankfully. The bruises from your neck faded but the pain in your chest hasn’t. God you missed Death. The loneliness was unbearable.  You started to believe he was telling you the truth. That you are nothing but an annoying child.

One cold night after you took a shower and collapsed into bed after training particularly hard that day you were woken up by a disturbance in your room. A sudden weight on the end of your bed roused you from your slumber. You sprung up preparing an attack spell before you recognized the shape hunched on the end of your bed. Even in the dark you’d recognize Deaths form. He was sitting on the edge of your bed, bent over with his arms on his knees. Your heart clenched seeing him.

“Death…” you whispered, shocked to see him.

“you could have knocked buddy.” I almost blew you to smithereens.” You say jokingly.

Death had no response and didn’t move. You shuffled closer to him untangling yourself from your sheets. “I missed you sweetheart.” You say gently.

Death then sighed, “Why do you say that?”

“Say what?” you reply confused.

“Sweetheart.” He grumbles. “I don’t understand.”

You chuckle “It’s just something I say. Its just a form of endearment. If it bothers, I can stop.”

Deaths hands clenched. “It doesn’t bother me” he mumbles.

Your face softens and you can feel your heart melt.

Deaths body tensed up before responding. “I don’t deserve your endearment. I’m a monster y/n. I’m repulsive and murder.” Death growled. He hands begin to clench hard and he became more tense. I don’t deserve you. I’ll hurt you just like before. I came to say goodbye.”

You felt a pang in your chest and moved closer to him and draped your self on his back. Death slightly tensed as you put your arms around his neck and pressed your chest against his back placing him a tight hug. You burrowed you face against the side of his neck and sobbed quietly. Death did not move from his position shellshocked by your display of affection.

It was now or never. You had to make sure he understood how you felt before he disappeared from your life. You stopped crying and took a deep breath to calm yourself

“Oh Death,” you say, “I love you.”  You continue, “I think you’re a wonderful person. You treated me with respect since we meet, and you are a kinder person then you think. You help others and care for your siblings. You’re the single most selfless person I’ve ever met.”

You wrapped your arms tighter around him, desperate to keep him close. “Sweetheart I’m in love with you. I’ve loved you since the day we’ve meet. Please don’t leave me alone.”

Death suddenly pulled himself from your tight grasp and stood up. He turned to face you. Your heartbeat begins to crash in your ears as you worried you pushed too much again. You were worried he was going to reject you and leave. His mask gave nothing away on his feelings.  Death reached for you quicker than you could process and grabbed your ankle firmly. He roughly pulled you the edge of your bed. You didn’t fight him as he grabbed your other leg by the thigh and spread them. He stepped between your legs and used the hand not holding your thigh to push down on your chest and shove you flat against the mattress. He caged your body with his arms and leaned down to towards your face. His mask hit you hard as his head collided with yours.

“Fucking ow man!” you cry as Death recoiled a bit.

Death muttered a quiet “damn thing” before ripping his mask off and throwing into the dark recess of your room.

He then moved down towards your face again and roughly pressed his lips against your in a rough kiss. You got over your shock quickly and moaned into his mouth. It wasn’t the  best kiss you ever had honestly but your body instantly felt like it was on fire. You tug your face away breaking the kiss to try to talk to Death, but when you opened your mouth Death was back on you instantly. Death used the opportunity to shove his tongue into your mouth to your shock.

Death’s weight felt like it would crush you as his tongue explored your mouth. You started to struggle as you ran out of air. Death pulled back and you gulped down some air before Death’s hand moved under your head and wound his hand through your hair pushing you back towards him. Death pushed his tongue back into your mouth and you moaned again. You closed your eyes and pushed into him. You wrapped your legs against him and grinded your pelvis into his hard cock. Death suddenly pushed himself up and away from your face with a growl. A trail of spit connected your mouths for a second until Death pushed himself standing again. You whined when he stopped wanting more.

He unwrapped your legs from his waist swiftly.

You sigh, “Death I love you.”

Death growled again and abruptly gripped your cotton t shirt and yanked, tearing the shirt and reveling your chest. Your nipples immediately began to harden in to cool air. You cry out and Death hisses, staring at your chest and red face. “Death please wait. I can take it…” You say hastily before Death then grabs your sweatpants and rips those way as well. Of all the nights to not wear panties you chose tonight you think coolly as you feel the cold air hit your cool wet cunt. You were in shock as Death ripped away the rags of your clothes leaving you completely bare.

“This is hardly fair.” you whine, “You need to take something off too.”

Death said nothing as he leaned back down towards you.

“Death talk to me plea-Ah” you were interrupted by Death latching on to one of your breasts.

His tongue swirled around your nipple as his other hand fondled your other breast. You let out a short cry and wrapped your hands in his dark hair. God this is going so quick you feel so lightheaded.

He hands pinched your other nipple and you yipped. You could feel Death grin against your chest. He sucked hard and let go with a quiet pop and you let go of his hair. He stood up again reaching for his belt.  He unbuckled it and ripped it off it one smooth motion. Death used one hand to gather your wrists together and you didn’t fight. You kept them together as he let go and let him use his belt to tie them together. If this made him feel more comfortable then so be it. It’s not like you mind him tying you up. He gave an approving grunt and rolled you on your stomach.

“Fuck” you whisper.

Death pulled your hips up until you were ass up and face down. Your tied arms were bracing you to keep you in this position. This was a bit embarrassing. You could feel Death grope your ass, both of his hands getting a good handful. He let go and moved to rubbing your thighs, brushing by your soaking wet cunt. You whine and arch your back into his touch. Death chuckled at you and slowly moved up your thigh. His index finger brushed against your wet folds, exploring every inch. He teasingly rubbed your clit drawing a moan from you. He circled your entrance before pushing his finger in. He sharply thrusted his finger in and out a few times while you blushed even harder and your breathing quickened. God you needed him now.

Death apparently had the same idea as he pulled his finger from inside of you. “Death please,” you moan, “I need you to fuck me. Please please please.”

You hear Death unzip his pants and could imagine him pulling out his cock. God you wanted to peek. He felt huge when you were grinding against him. Death grabbed your hair and pulled your face from against the mattress. You cry out a bit from the pain but don’t fight him.  You took a quick breath in when you felt something hot and hard press against your core. Death stopped moving though. You decided to wait for him to speak.

Death spoke finally after what felt like an eternity of silence “Tell me you love me.”

You blink twice in confusion before realizing what Death said.

Death snarled and yanked your hair roughly. “Tell. Me. You. Love. Me.” He said slowly

“I love you Death,” you sigh, “I love you more than anything in the universe,”

Death snarled again thrust his cock roughly inside of you, knocking the breath out of you. God he WAS big. He thrusted into you sharply placing one hand on your hip to steady you. He shoved your face back into the mattress but kept your hair wrapped tight around his hand. you try to catch you breath but every thrust knock it backs out if you. You were stretched painfully wide around his length. The pain begins to melt into pleasure slowly. As you grow used to his length Death removes your hand from you head once he’s sure you wont move. He grips your hips harder to brace you against him. You could feel your orgasm get closer every second. After a few more thrusts you clench around him as you stumble over the edge. You close your eyes and cry as your orgasm hits you hard. Death snarls again as you clench around him and fucks you hard through your orgasm. He gets even rougher. His thrusts become harder and your sure your going to have bruises on your hips with how hard he’s holding you.

Your legs give out under you and Death hold you in place with your hips. He fucks through two more orgasms not giving you a moment to recover, you were reaching your limit. Every thrust made stars prick your eyes. You couldn’t get your thoughts together. All you could do is moan and cry under Death’s touches. Death’s movements became more desperate and hurried.

He finally spoke again “Tell me you love me again. I need to hear you say it.”

Somehow you registered it and managed to choke out “I love you.”

Death sharply thrusted deep inside you as his orgasm overtook him. You could feel his hot cum fill you up. You breathe hard as you finally get to recover. You could feel his cum leak out of you. Holy shit that’s a lot you think. Death lowers you until your laying down again on the mattress half draped over the edge.

The room was quiet except for your breathing. Death was the one to break the silence.

“I need to go.” He says quickly before gathering himself and stumbled out the door before you could respond.

You yelled after him, “wait! At least untie me first!”

You groan and smack your head against your mattress. You peek up and look over your shoulder. You can slightly make out the outline of Deaths’ mask on the floor in the dark. You laugh and mumble “Dumbass”.

You use your magic to burn the leather belt around your wrists and drag yourself up the bed. He can’t get mad for you destroying his belt after leaving you. Just a bit of payback. He’ll back soon you think to yourself happily.

Secret in His Eyes

Spinoff of Sins of the Father

Genre: Mafia Au

Pairing: Luhan x Reader

Summary: A vacation exploring China’s famous city was supposed to be relaxing. When you witness a horrifying murder, you instead find yourself in police custody, unable to run. Trying to stay alive, you meet Luhan, and you believe you can trust him. You never imagined that he might be the one you should be running from.

Part: Prologue I 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I 11 I 12 I Final

**

Luhan wanted to curse up a storm. Only your presence kept his mouth at bay.

“Do you realize how long we’ve been searching for you?” Tao snarled.

At his harsh tone, Luhan caught you shrinking into the bark of the tree. No wonder you rejected him. You were still terrified of anyone who wasn’t him. The fake him, at least. And even then, you were still cautious.

“Sorry, boss,” Luhan artificially apologized.

Tao blinked at his emphasis, confusion pinching his face until his eyes landed on you. Then it dawned on him.

“That’s right. You’d better be sorry,” he snickered. Luhan threw him a death glare when you weren’t looking. The punk was enjoying the power play a little too much.

“(y/n), you’d better go back inside,” Luhan told her gently. She nodded slowly, pushing off the trunk and giving Tao a wide berth as she darted for the tree line and back to the house.

Now that they were alone, Tao tilted his head and scoffed at the older leader. “You’re still dressing like that?”

Luhan shrugged as he shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned up against the tree that you had previously occupied. “It’s comfortable.”

“Sure,” Tao scoffed. Narrowing his eyes, he commented, “You’re taking too much enjoyment in this.”

“Maybe I am,” Luhan snapped. But they both knew that he meant it differently than what Tao was implying. That maybe what he enjoyed was not having to be the one in charge when he was with you.

The sting of you telling him that you wouldn’t stay with him in the end was still fresh, made worse by the fact that he could sense you felt the connection too. He could see the attraction and the longing in your eyes whenever he met your gaze. But you were smarter than him. You could see farther than him, knowing that anything started between you two couldn’t last forever. That didn’t mean, however, that he didn’t want to try anyway.

He should know better than this. He should know already that even the happiest memories would cause pain later on down the line. How many nights did he spend cursing the air after she had left? How many days had he been haunted by the sound of her laugh? The way she called his name?

Over time the pain of those memories had faded. It didn’t hurt as much if they happened to cross his mind and he’d hardened himself more to the disappointments of the world. Nothing could touch him and he had no weaknesses. How easily he fell back into the trap.

Was he simply doomed to fall for the person who wouldn’t stay in his life?

“Luhan?”

Pulled from his self-loathing, Luhan snapped his head up. “What?”

Tao rolled his eyes. “I was trying to find you for a reason and it wasn’t to interrupt your little game of make believe.”

“Did you find him?” Luhan asked eagerly, ignoring the little swipe.

“Not exactly,” Tao muttered. From his back pocket, he pulled out a small tan envelope. Luhan took it eagerly, ripping out the contents to see what demands would be asked of him.

But there were no demands.

Inside was one picture, one photo recently developed. The image it held made his blood boil and knuckles turn white from how hard he was gripping the edges.

From the vague clues he could pick up on, the setting of the scene was an old warehouse or some equally grimy place. But that hardly mattered. It was the true subject of the photograph that was the real focus of his rage.

In the very center to drawn the eye in was his missing lieutenant. Blood pooled all around him and – even though he was lying on his stomach – a fresh bullet hole right between his eyes was clearly visible, emphasized by the blank, dead look in his wide open eyes.

“When did you find this?” Luhan asked through gritted teeth.

“About an hour ago,” Tao answered. “It came right to the front door. No one saw who dropped it off or when exactly it arrived.”

Fire was roaring in Luhan now. His defenses were slipping. He used to be untouchable. Now look at him. Not even his own home was safe anymore. “How could someone have gotten past the guards?”

“We don’t know,” Tao said. By the growl in his voice, he was equally pissed about the breach, perhaps even more so since security fell under his division. “They have to be watching the house, learning the shift schedules and area rotations. There’s no other explanation for how they achieved this.”

“Mix it up then!” Luhan ordered. “And double the bodies patrolling the grounds. I don’t want anything like this happening again. Until we can find out who-” He stopped, his eyes having drifted down to the mocking gift in his hand once more.

“What is it?” Tao leaned forward to try and see what had made Luhan stop mid-sentence.

In the corner of the envelope was a small blue stamp, easily missed if your mind was somewhere else. Lifting the paper up for a closer look, Luhan frowned as he inspected the wording that made up the blue ink.

“Did you really look at this before you came to find me?” Luhan asked in an eerily quiet voice.

Tao shook his head. “Once we saw what was inside, I went to find you. Yixing was the one who told us that he thought he’d seen you go out the back.”

“This is a police issued envelope,” Luhan held it up for Tao to see. “That’s their official letterhead on here. You can just get these anywhere.”

“So the police are behind this?” Tao questioned. He shook his head. “That doesn’t make any sense. I mean, sure, some of them are corrupt but they wouldn’t go this far and then leave something that points right back to them.”

“I don’t think it’s the department itself that’s doing this,” Luhan agreed. “Whoever is behind this – behind all of this – is either under the police force but doing this on their own or they just want us think it’s the police.”

“There’s too much gray area with those scenarios. I don’t like it.”

“I don’t either. But I want to end this once and for all and this is our only lead so far.” Fueled by his own declaration, Luhan shoved the envelope into his back pocket and stormed off towards the house, ripping off his jacket in the process. Until this was over, Lin would have to disappear. Right now, he needed to focus on being Luhan, leader of the underground world.

**

He was mad at you. Or he got in trouble. Or maybe he was mad at you because he got in trouble. Not that it was your fault. It was his own decision to take you out of the house.

It’d been nearly two weeks since Lin confessed to you. Or… could it be considered a confession? Technically, you were the only one who used any sort of words that conveyed true feelings. That you liked it when he was vulnerable and open. All that he’d told you was that you made him feel lighter, like the world wasn’t resting on his shoulders. Was that really the same thing?

Lately the house felt emptier. Each time you ventured out into the hallways, they were deserted, no hired help, no mafia members, not even Lin or Yixing made an appearance. Part of you wondered if you’d been abandoned, but the constant piling up of glasses and dirty dishes that weren’t yours in the kitchen, along with the ever growing pile of empty liquor bottles told you that someone was present around here. Those clues just might have been the only reason you stuck around.

Well, that… and the pathetic little emotion called hope. Hope that he’d knock on your door or walk around the corner. If you saw him again… you just might be tempted to….

Blowing air out of your lips, you mentally shook yourself. Were you only thinking that way because you hadn’t seen him in so long?

You’d promised Lin that you wouldn’t run away from him for now. So why did it feel like he’d run away from you? It didn’t feel like things had ended badly when you were interrupted, but you had no idea what had happened after you left. It was possible that he was ordered to stay away, you supposed. That just made your heart throb in pain.

But that didn’t explain the lack of people you saw recently. And sitting there in that kitchen, you felt the loneliness more than ever. You wished that anyone would walk through the entryway just remind you that you weren’t the last living being on earth.

“You’re brave to be out here, aren’t you?”

You jumped at the sudden voice, nearly knocking over your glass and spilling water all over the island counter.

The blonde higher up from the forest wasn’t exactly what you had in mind when you’d asked for company. Obviously taking pleasure in having scared you, he was smirking as he leaned up against the doorframe. His hands were stuffed into the pockets of his slacks and his eyes shined with a mischievousness that had you squirming in your seat.

“I was just hungry,” you answered in a small voice.

He laughed at you. “No need to be so scared. I won’t hurt you.”

Somehow, you found that very hard to believe. Finishing up your meal, you wiped your mouth and headed over to the sink, hoping that he would leave as you rinsed off your plate.

No such luck.

Instead, he came right into your personal space, leaning back up against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest. “I’m Tao, by the way.”

You barely glanced over at him. Whispering, you replied, “(y/n).”

He scoffed at you. “You’re very different from what I was expecting.”

“What exactly were your expectations?” you asked bravely, immediately regretting it. Engaging with him meant he stayed longer, kept the conversation going. Then again, he might have just kept pestering you until you gave in anyway.

“Considering who you’ve attracted, I figured you’d be feistier or more challenging,” he somewhat explained. “But you’re kind of like a mouse. Weak and easily frightened. Not exactly the ‘strong’ type.”

That was it. Practically throwing the dish down in the sink, you turned to the mobster. “Excuse you! Just because I don’t throw punches or yell and scream or shoot guns doesn’t mean that I’m not a strong or valid person! I don’t care if you’re a leader here or not, you don’t get to decide what I am!”

“Ah!” Tao leaned in close, smiling at you in a wicked fashion. “There it is. Now that I can see him falling for.”

“Falling for?” Was he talking about Lin?

Tao chuckled as he straightened up. “Oh, yeah. He can deny it all he wants, but Luhan was definitely caught feelings for you. Which just makes him an-”

“Luhan? Did you mean Lin?” It had to be a slip of the tongue… right? The names were similar....

Clearing his throat, Tao backtracked. “Um, yeah, that’s what I meant. I meant Lin. Not Luhan.”

But you didn’t believe him. As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t. You once were told there were three leaders here and you’ve managed to run into two of them. But the third one, the one who was at the very top and who owned this mansion, you’d never even caught a glimpse of him. Or had you caught more than a glimpse and never realized it?

Too many coincidences and moments were lining up. Like the way Yixing relented to Lin or the fact that he insisted that wasn’t his room, but what else could have been doing there? And the way he looked at that woman’s picture and told that story….

No, it wasn’t just a simple slip of the tongue. And you were played for a sap.

Whirling on your heels, you stormed out of the kitchen and down the halls. Each door you came to you swung open, searching for the man who had lied to you this entire time. He was never behind the barriers but all that did was narrow it down. He couldn’t only be in so many places.

“You can’t just go anywhere you feel like!” Tao yelled after you, capturing your upper arm and slamming your back up against the wall. A whimper echoed in your throat from the impact, stinging your shoulder blades. “Listen here, mouse, you were told-”

“Tao, what the hell do you think you’re doing!”

You flinched at the shouts of the newcomer. It turned out you didn’t have to go looking for him anymore. The feared leader had found you.

Letting you go, Tao stepped back, facing Lin- no, not Lin. “She was snooping around-”

“I was looking for you,” you snarled, cutting Tao off.

With a look of defeat in his eyes, Luhan motioned with his head for you to follow him. Tao rolled his eyes and walked away in the opposite direction. Swallowing back the humiliating tears, you walked behind Luhan down the hall and into a large study that you assumed was where he’d been hiding these days.

With the door closed behind you, he rounded the oversized desk, taking a small, square package that had been sitting there and tossing it into the corner.

“What’s that?” you asked quietly, not quite ready to face what you were really doing here.

Turning to face you, Luhan sighed. Gone were the t-shirts and bomber jackets that had made him seem so normal. Now his once messy hair was slicked back off his face and the white button down was wrinkled and haphazardly tucked into his pants. Even with the clear disregard of how put together he didn’t look, he was still so different, like the mafia leader he was pretending not to be.

“Just a random package that showed up,” he muttered, not even bothering to look at you. His gaze stayed trained on the patterned carpet as he asked his own question. “Why were you looking for me?”

You answered with a question of your own. “Why didn’t you just kill me? It would be so easy to just get the one witness out of the way! Did you never really believe me when I said I didn’t know anything? Or did you just want to see how much fun you could have playing with me?”

“I never played with you!” Marching up to you, he grabbed your shoulders in a desperate attempt to cling to the lies. “Yes, Lin was someone I made up, but I wasn’t lying out in that forest!”

“I can’t believe you!” Tears stung at your eyes as you stared at the person you’d thought you’d fallen for but really had no clue who he was. “After everything! After every chance you had to tell me the truth, you still lied! How can I believe you now?”

Though his grip remained strong, his voice faltered. “Because I’m begging you.”

You shook your head. “That’s not eno-”

BOOM!

You Are Not Alone Book Review

Hello fellow readers!

This time I am reviewing You Are Not Alone by the duo, Greer Hendricks and Sarah Pekkanen. These are the authors behind The Wife Between Us and Anonymous Girl for those of you who are not aware. If I were to rank these against its predecessors it would rank second place with AG at third and TWBU in first place. Like the other ones before it, YANA is a character study centered on female friendships.

Shay Miller is not feeling her best lately. She’s lost her job due to downsizing, is in love with her male roommate who has a girlfriend, her roommate’s girlfriend wants her to move out, and on top of all of this, she’s lonely. Shay is cognizant of her troubles but aims to do better: “it’s like I’m caught in a slow spiral. I’m fighting as hard as I can to turn things around” (5). It’s important to note that even though Shay is down she’s certainly not out. This may be one of the facets of her personality that helps her out later on in the story. 

One of my favorite things of this book, in particular, is the mirroring and doubling between characters specifically the other characters that Shay ends up identifying with. At the beginning of the story, when Shay first steps onto that platform having just missed the train, she spots two people. The first is the man with the backpack. Shay mentions the following: “when someone conjures unease in you, there are usually good reasons behind it” (6). Shay feels unease and is suspicious of the man who just “missed” the train. She irrationally starts to imagine being able to get away from the man if she ends up needing to. The man doesn’t actually do anything to Shay aside from look at her. This moment speaks to the idea that looks can be deceiving. 

The man is described as “with a goatee and back lingering on a deserted platform.” Just this alone makes Shay mistrust him. Shay does not identify with this man and it shows. She cannot at this point, get past this barrier. The man is seen as the other. He is part of the outgroup. This type of thinking ends up getting Shay in trouble in countless ways but more on that later.

The second person Shay finds on the platform is at first an unnamed woman. This woman is described as “in a green dress with white polka dots stands farther down on the platform, in the opposite direction of the man. She’s partially camouflaged by the shadow of a large support beam” (6). There’s a decent amount to unpack in just these two sentences especially when comparing Shay to the mystery woman. The woman is dressed up in a sunny dress. Shay is wearing shorts and a shirt in casual attire befitting a Sunday morning. The woman is down the platform standing away from Shay faceless and at opposite ends in more ways than one. The fact that the woman is obscured by a pillar only adds to her intrigue. The woman is shrouded in darkness. This speaks to the idea that the woman is perhaps also not a good place mentally. And even though she’s dressed up there’s a bleakness in this visual. When this woman is compared to the nameless man opposite her she stands out and elicits the opposite response from Shay. She, like Shay, seems all alone, even though there are people a few hundred feet away from her. 

For a couple of minutes, Shay draws security from the woman’s presence. Then Shay says the following: “the woman glances my way...she’s about my height-five foot ten-and age, ...her hair is shorter and lighter than mine. Her face is pleasant..” (6).  Clearly, both of these women share many physical features and Shay is aware of it. These similarities are brought up again throughout the book. but the most disturbing instance is when the Moore sisters realize the resemblance and push Shay to change. 

 The unnamed woman is called Amanda Evinger and she like Shay is a loner and very much a pawn to The Moore Sisters. In the first few chapters from Jane and Cassandra’s perspectives, the readers see how this two groom and test the women who ultimately become part of their group. Amanda is no different. After they discovered that Amanda is just what they wanted and find her use they discover after the murder that Amanda has too much morality and when she starts to break away and defy them that’s when things take a turn for the worst.

Shay senses nothing is off when she meets Cassandra and Jane at Amanda’s memorial service. She is enchanted by them and feels drawn to them. When seeing Cassandra she thinks to herself: “...she stands out. It isn’t simply that she’s beautiful. She radiates something indefinable, an aura that feels magnetic...she seems like she inhabits a different world (32). Shay does seem like she catches one real thing about Cassandra she does inhabit a different world one where she tries to control and manipulate those around her for the benefit of her and her sister Jane. But this is mostly all lost on Shay. She’s blinded by the demeanor and charisma of Cassandra. Jane is no different: “ ...they share... the same magnetic quality” (35). The magnetism both these women exude and the way they are presented to those around them hide their true dubious and predatory natures. They don’t set off warning bells like the man on the platform but Shay makes the mistake of falling for their charade. The old adage is sometimes true appearances can, in fact, be deceiving.

As I mentioned before Shay and Amanda share more than just physical attributes, they both challenge the sisters after going along with their plans and expectations. They also both have that underdog facet to their personalities. They go against the grain however grueling and messy it ends up getting. Which is saying something after all the crap they put up with prior to their breaking away. My point is that because of these blatant parallels it’s obvious that Hendricks and Pekkanen drew from gothic literature tropes. 

The fact that Shay ends up becoming Amanda physically, mentally, emotionally, and ends up living in her old apartment is a calling to Freud’s definition of the uncanny. Freud states the following: “that class of the frightening which leads back to something long known to us, once very familiar.” When this is applied to the idea of doubles (Shay & Amanda) then the unsettling degree increases. Both of these women didn’t know each other at all. They are strangers and barely acknowledge the other’s existence for more than two minutes. This is probably why when Jane notices the physical resemblance between the two Shay says: “the oddest sensation-something akin to deja vu-creeps over me as I stand there, twisting my head from side to side...I remind myself of someone, but I can’t pinpoint who”(146). This feeling bothers her but she can’t remember what was once familiar to her, Amanda’s kind face. Even though Shay didn’t know her at all the kinship she felt for her and her suicide drives her to fixate on her memory and her life. Things that are unknown and familiar to her. 

Just take the setting for the novel an overpopulated and hectic New York City near the Murray Hill neighborhood. All the people, shops, late nights, and frenetic energy does nothing to quell the loneliness both Amanda and Shay feel especially after their falling out with the Moore sisters and their group. This notes the idea of isolation prominent in gothic lit. This isolation leads to the disturbances that both Shay and Amanda state during their more trying days. Both women end up more alone at this point then they were at the beginning. But even their isolation is entirely complete. The sisters are watching from a distance so they are never completely alone.

So even though YANA is not my favorite of the three books it is a close second. As a lover of gothic literature and character-driven books it’s only natural I do. What were your favorite books from this popular duo?

My rating: 4

Keywords: Female friendships, nefarious, gaslighting, isolation

I was nothing before you saved me pt 2

It has been a few months now since he was taken in and began his training to become the princesses personal guard. Although he still had quite some reserved feelings about it. But this was Lance’s chance to……...well, he isn’t even sure about what this may lead to, but he knows it’s a chance that he couldn’t waste.

Day in and day out Lance meet with the king and get lessons in the art of combat; sometimes, if the king was too busy, he would meet and train with some of the more seasoned guards or even one of the other paladins of voltron. And Lance wouldn’t waste a second, he kept his eyes steeled and picked up on anything that may help him learn faster and to keep himself, and some day the princess safe.

Afterwards he would meet with Coran, who had refused to let Lance call him by his official title since day one, and would be taught proper and how to hold himself in front of higher status people and during high class events. he was taught how to talk and act towards royalty. everything that he needed to know to become the princesses personal guard.

a princess that he hasn’t met yet. at all.

and that probably scared Lance more than anything that some of the jealous guards have thrown at him during training or the overwhelming amount of information that has been thrown at him. all of it will be forenot if the princess doesn’t like him, he’s going back out to the streets and he’s not even sure he’ll last even a month out there, not with those underground fighters lurking in the streets. after the first few weeks of being trained, Coran had told him that the underground fight ring that Lance was once apart of was found by the royal guards and has been broken  up. Lance believes Coran was telling him that to try and make him feel better and safe, but Lance knows the truth. while the fight ring itself has been dismantled, the fighters are still out there more angry than ever. and Lance knows deep down that they think he snitched to get a position in the castle; he knows that if he was thrown out of the castle he would be a dead man.

but those thoughts didn’t scare him into breaking, to try and run away and hide for the rest of his life. he had that beaten out of him years ago. instead, it only pushed him further in trying to be perfect, even when he knew it wasn’t possible, he still pushed farther than before, sometimes farther than his body could take leading him to have more than a couple of stents in the healing pods and having Coran and sometimes even some of the older guards worrying over him like he was actually important.

then came the day, after a little over half a year of non-stop training for this position and wishing to every type of goddess out there, he was to meet the princess and start his duties as her personal guard.

or as Lance liked to call it, his day of reckoning.

Coran was standing next to him as he waited in the grand hall for the king to bring his daughter in, making sure that Lance’s clothes were speckless, chatting nonsense into his ears about what his first day as the royal advisor was like, trying to help ease some of the young boy’s nerves and tension. Lance gave him a rare small smile as a way thanking him, scared that if he were to talk his voice would give way to just how nervous he was. Coran returned his smile with his own full grin, mustache curling up more with it. with one more pat on his shoulder, Coran returns to standing beside Lance just as the large doors begin to open as the king walked in with a small girl by his side, her white hair was held back from her face by a decorative pin of a juniberry flower that probably cost more than Lance’s life; she was obviously quite young, having to reach up slightly to take ahold of her father’s hand while the other held up the skirt of her dress. she looked like she wasn’t even ten years old yet, most likely nine.

Lance isn’t sure if that’s a good thing or not; he may of come from the streets where the only thing that keeps you alive is to lie your way to surviving, but even he knew just how brutally honest kids can be.

they stopped just a few feet in front of him and Lance bows to them, his face at the same level as the princess’s own face. “Allura, this is Lance. he will be your new guard.” the king introduced, prompting Lance to speak “it is an honor to serve you, your highness.” and if he wasn’t looking for it, Lance would have almost missed the quick look of displeasure cross her face before it was quickly covered up by a smile. her voice was light and yet loud in the ever silent room as she gives her verdict if Lance would stay or go. “it’s nice to meet you Lance.” she does a small curtsy to him and after the king explained more to both of them about Lance’s role as her personal guard and they both were sent off, the princess to her studies and Lance three steps behind her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

it’s been a couple of weeks now since Lance has started being the princess’s royal guard and he can say with all honesty that the princess was possibly one of the most bored girls ever; well, at least he knows that he’s bored out of his mind. all she ever does is go from her lessons to her room to the dining room when it’s time for meals. and usually she’s eating alone; both the king and queen too busy with their royal duties to always eat their meals in the dining hall with their daughter.

it was quite a boring life, but Lance didn’t let his boredom get the best of him. he still stayed adamant about the princess’s safety, always checking the food that would be served to her, keeping a keen eye out for any lurking shadows or for new faces in the castle that may approach her, pretending to be a guard or maid. but no one ever did. not the veteran guards they would walk past, or any of the maids that served her. no one actually talked to her at all unless it was her teachers, and even then it felt more like they seemed more or less reciting the books instead of taking the time to get to know her highness and working with her interests to help her learn. it seems that everyone doesn’t seem to notice just how being treated like some impossibly perfect person that they can’t possibly talk to does to her.

But Lance notices.

he can see just how much it hurts her that no one is willing to try and get to know her. and he knows just how hard it hurts to be treated like that; albeit, he was more accustomed to people refusing to treat him anything more than trash. but it was still the same treatment of forced isolation, even when it seemed like they were surrounded by people. he recognizes the pain that she tries to hide from everyone. and Lance wanted to do something, anything to make her feel less alone. it’s his job to protect her from anything, and Lance decides that he should try and protect her from loneliness as well, he knows just how dangerous being alone can be.

the problem is he’s not exactly sure how to do that. he’s never really had to comfort anyone before, and the only only people who have actually shown any sort of compassion towards him are Coran, the king and a few of the castle staff, and usually he wasn’t even sure if any of it was compassion at all or just some other kind of motive. but he had to try something.

and that something decided to appear during the princess’s down time the next day. Lance had been talking with the maid who had brought the princess a snack, not uncommon now that she only really stays in her room, he had thanked her and closed the door behind him as the maid walks away down the hall. when Lance turns around to give the princess the plate of food, only instead of being in the room like before, she was halfway hanging out the window, a rope of what Lance could only assume as sheets and old dresses tied together was also hanging out of the window as well, one end of it tied to her bedpost. they stared at each other for a few tense tics, both frozen in shock. thankfully, Lance moved first and quick, easily reaching the window on the other side of the room and pulling her back into the room before she fell off.

“what were you doing up there?!what if you fell off the window?!you could’ve gotten seriously hurt!” Lance yells, looking her over for any sign of bruising, he did pull her off the window sill pretty roughly. the princess still in shock of being caught and the fact that Lance had actually admonished her. but apparently Lance’s brain hasn’t caught up to his mouth yet as he continues “ if you had wanted to go outside, you could have asked. it isn’t like you’re required to stay inside the castle, you don’t have to sneak out.” she blinked owlishly at him for a minute before finally saying “ you actually care?” her comment catches Lance off guard as his mind finally catches up to himself, but the fact she wasn’t anger at him for speaking out of turn to her and actually surprised that he cared about her just urges him on. “ well of course i care.” he said matter of factly; it was the one thing he was sure of about himself now. at first it was about getting a chance to stay alive, to keep himself safe. but then he had to break out of that mindset during his training; it wasn’t about him anymore. it was about her. it was about keeping her safe from anything that might do her harm, even if it hurts him. when he first started his duties, he was never sure if he could actually do that, to put himself in harm’s way for this girl that he knew next to nothing about. while he tests every food that comes to her, he knows that it isn’t poisoned, whenever they walk through the halls, he knows that none of guards would hurt her, not consciously anyways. he had never had to put someone else before himself before now, and he was scared that in the face danger, that those old instincts would kick in and he would protect himself before her. but through the weeks he’s been by her side he’s seen sides to her that many people have seen, and sides they haven’t. he sees how she helps some mice that have sneaked their way into the castle hide from honerva’s cat when she comes to visit; he sees how she will often deflate when her parents are busy and can’t be with her, he sees how excited she gets watching the paladins of voltron train with each other. and through it all it has cemented in him how much she is alone. he knew as soon as he saw the first time she truly seemed happy that it’s because of her that he has been given his new lease on life, even if she doesn’t realize it, and he would gladly do anything to make sure that she was safe.

when it was obvious how much his words truly meant to her, Lance gathers up the courage to ask “now what was it about today that made you  suddenly want to go and try something like that?” it was probably the first time Lance has ever seen the princess flush and seem embarrassed about her actions, as if she finally realized how dangerous it was and how silly for her to try something like it. she sinks down to the floor, jher dress pooling all around her. “I...I wanted to go to the juniberry festival. papa always takes me and momma to it, but he had to go and save body with voltron and momma’s sick right now.” lance lets out a sigh and kneels down to her, trying his best to give her a warm smile, feeling victorious as she gives him her own smile, not the fake one she puts on for others, this one is small like his but yet seems to make her face light up and to cause wrinkles beside her markings. “well then it seems that i have no choice but to take you there myself, your highness.” he says, standing up and holding out his hand to hers. she looks at it and blurts out “does this make us friends?” Lance is a bit stunned by the question; he’s not really sure. he’s never had a friend before. well, sure there’s Coran, but Lance doesn’t see him as a friend, more like family. but a friend? maybe this could be a fresh start for both of them. “I’m not really sure if it does, but i would like to be your friend. just know, your highness, that as long as i live i will be by your side and protect you. both as your personal guard...as well as your friend.” Lance proclaims, leaning down just a tad more for the princess to take ahold of his hand. she looks up at his face, searching for any sign or hint of a lie in his words, before happily taking his hand and pulling herself back up onto her feet.

“well, since we’re friends now. I don’t want you to keep calling me ‘your highness’, it’s not something that friends call each other. just call me Allura.” the prin- Allura says, swinging both of their arms back and forth as she practically leads them down the halls towards the hangars. “of course, Allura.” Lance replies, happy to see such a real smile on her face. while Allura is almost jumping up and down in the seat of the small shuttle, Lance explains to Coran and a few of the guards where they are going, promising to be back by nightfall. once he got the all clear from them, he sits down in the pilots seat and starts up the vehicle. “are you ready, princess Allura?” and with a determined nod from her, Lance drives out of the hangars and into a bright and clear day.

Veilfire leaf: Hollow

He was still unaccustomed to the constant interaction. He didn’t find it particularly uncomfortable, just strange. Background noise that was somehow warmer than the normal rush of water or wind through trees or his own footsteps on a road. It wasn’t as if he’d been entirely without contact. How many times had he attempted to reach out to the clans in the past year? But it hadn’t been steady, uninterrupted company. Not in centuries. Except for Wisdom— perhaps since his childhood. Not like this. Most days he found it soothing, if distant. As if he were watching a hearthfire through a distant window rather than warming himself beside it. Or listening to the echoes of some far off sound without ever coming to the source. Prattle, mostly. A pantomime of what had been. It only became unsettling when he thought he caught a flicker of warmth, something deeper lurking beneath the empty words that they gave to one another. 

Varric, especially, gave him pause more than he liked to admit. It was understandable. His people had been less known to him and rumored to be stunted, cut off from the Fade. The Veil couldn’t have made that large a difference, could it? He found himself alternately craving conversation with the dwarf and avoiding it because it had lead to lingering doubts. Cassandra said little to Solas as a general rule. He couldn’t decide whether it was because she truly had so little to say, or if she were still suspicious of him. Or if she believed herself solely a vessel for the Chantry’s teachings. And he was not certain he wished to know. It would be months before he truly warmed to her. Not yet, not in the trudge through the Hinterlands when they’d barely gathered a shred of hope for themselves. And the Herald— she ought to have been the one who troubled him most. Child of his people, one he’d failed if the vallaslin were any indication. She’d slipped past his wariness a few times in the past weeks, needled that tiny part of him that wondered if they could be saved. If he should waste the resources looking for a way to do it. But every time, he’d seen only a shadow of what she might have been, her world a set of scavenged relics, the very least of what they’d been. And he’d dismissed her words. They were a trick of the mind, he’d told himself, his own longing for something, anything familiar. He was seeing what wasn’t there. She was mostly silent among them, easy to forget. At least, then. When she was still overwhelmed. When she was waiting for some chance to throw off the weight of what they wanted her to do. So he found himself on the top of Calenhad’s Foothold, lying with the stars spread overhead, waiting for sleep. For his nightly escape into a more familiar landscape with those he knew were real. And the others were below, slumped against the remaining walls near a fading campfire, their voices spiraling up past him with the smoke. He tried to let them drift into a gentle murmur as he shut his eyes, but his loneliness got the better of him and he found himself listening in spite of himself. “Didn’t know masonry interested you, Herald. There’s an old mine not far from here. Rumor is, it used to lead straight to Orzammar. Not much use for the Stone myself, but I can’t deny our stonesmiths are among the best.” “I’m certain they are, Varric. The stories say your kingdoms are vast. As far from one end to another as all the leagues our clans walk.” Her voice was soft with wonder and Solas turned to his side to hear it better. “They were. Long ago,” admitted Varric. “But many of thaigs were cut off from each other.” He sighed. “Just as well. Pushed us into the world. And the world back to us. In a few years, maybe the Surfacers will be welcome again. And the humans will send more than a handful of Wardens to fend off the Blight.” The fire cracked. “Listen to me. Sounding like a bitter old Deshyr. Forget all that. Why are you so interested in an old step?” “It’s the hollow. Here, see?” Varric laughed. “Sorry Herald,” he said quickly, “It’s just— you know the hollow wasn’t carved there, don’t you?” “I know. That’s why it interests me. It’s the passage of hundreds of feet. Over and over. Imagine the years it takes to wear away stone. The humans have been in this place for so long, that they’ve left a mark on it. It is a curious thing, to know that. To be so tied to a place.” “Mm. Kind of explains why they acted so strangely seeing you and I at the Crossroads, doesn’t it? Most of those people had never wandered farther than the outskirts of their village before the war. Maybe as far as the local market. They’d likely never seen a dwarf or an elf before. Certainly not in charge of Chantry soldiers.” He laughed again. “The four of us were probably the strangest thing they’d seen all year, even with the Breach and the loose mages.” “That makes them sound— small.” “Hey, I’m not excluding myself. Not a big traveler myself. Until I’m forced.” “Come now, Varric, I gave you a chance to leave weeks ago,” Cassandra said abruptly. “You’re the fool who didn’t take it.” “You’d be lost without me, and you know it.” Solas smiled, hearing the casual pride in Varric’s voice. Perhaps he should join them. “I didn’t mean to call them small. It isn’t always a bad thing to be so— entwined in a place,” said the Herald. “Certainly, travel doesn’t cure all ignorance. I wish that it did.” “Are you— are you homesick, Herald?” asked Cassandra. “Not for a place. Not the way whoever left these hollows would be. Not the way you are for Montsimmard or Varric is for his— what was it? The Butchered Barman?” “Ha! No Herald. The Hanged Man. But I’m stealing that. It’s terrible.” “Not like that. There is no place like that for me. I miss my family. The way the aravel sails flicker in the wind or slump and drip in the rain. The sound of the halla tender calling. But not— stone and timber that sinks its roots and stays. I know they are safe. My clan. What we do here will help them.” “You know, you could settle down. When this is finished. The Montsimmard Circle is very lenient—” “Seeker!” Varric cried. Solas sat up, leaned over the ledge where he’d been lying. The Herald held up a hand to calm the dwarf. “Thank you, Cassandra, but I will return to Lavellan. A keeper does not abandon her charge. It is not so much that I long for a permanent home. I’m certain it must be— pleasant to always know where you are. To know that around the next corner will be something familiar and peaceful. But that is not what I wish for. It’s this— mark you leave that I miss. We don’t leave marks like these. A few fire rings that get buried by leaves and snow until we return a few years later to sweep them clean and rebuild them again or the bent grass in the tracks of the aravels that springs back a few days after we pass— that is what remains of us.” “That’s not true, Herald. Daisy’s camp had a pair of stone wolves at its entrance. And she told me you plant a tree for those you lose along the way.” “Yes. Forests of them. Once. There are not so many of us left any more. We do not plant forests these days. A copse in bad years. A lone, slender sapling in good ones. Scattered all through the marches. They are felled for other peoples’ homes. Or for their campfires. No one remembers they are special. No one remembers they were once people who trod there.” Solas held his breath. Lay back down to be a few inches closer to the sound. To the flash of warmth in her voice. “And the statues— they are meant to hide us from danger. From the world. Not announce us. There is no— love in them. Not like your buildings. They face away from our camps. Witness none of the life in them. The statues never saw a birth or a bonding or us at all. All they see are invaders. Not like this step.” “I always thought your— wandering and your love of solitude was by choice,” said Cassandra. “Doesn’t it keep your clans safe?” “Yes,” sighed the Inquisitor. “That is the purpose. Perhaps it isn’t permanence I long for. This step. These walls that have stood for generations. I cannot imagine my life within them for long. But to be— safe enough to build something like this— to remain all my life in one place without fear, that is what the groove in this step means to me.” “I do not know our fate, Herald,” said Cassandra, “but this tear in the sky is a frightful thing. The person who closes it, I think she would be welcome wherever she chose to go.” “Didn’t turn out that way for Hawke,” Varric muttered. “Did it Cassandra?” “Hawke is not the same. She negotiated successfully with the Qunari but—” Varric laughed but it was bitter and angry. “The Qunari? I meant your mad templars.” “She pushed Meredith into—” Solas got up. Did it matter if her sorrow were only inch deep? That she mourned only what she saw the Dalish suffer at the hands of the shemlen and did not understand how very far they’d fallen before the humans arrived? She was hurt. And her companions bickered instead of offering comfort. What comfort could they offer? He reminded himself. They do not know what you do. He climbed down the crumbling wall. Varric was still shouting at Cassandra. The Herald watched warily, nervously. Waiting for their anger to twist on her, to turn as it likely inevitably did whenever she found herself at the mercy of strangers away from her clan. He touched her shoulder and she jumped. “Peace,” he said softly, so that only she would hear. “It is only me. Let them— reminisce.” He offered her a crooked smile. “I’d like to show you something.” He held out his hand to help her up and she took it. He led her out into the dark field and Cassandra’s voice slowly faded. “We were not always wanderers,” he told her. “There was a time when it was elves who peopled these fields and mountains. Before humans. The Fade remembers our great cities and our works.” She was silent for a time walking beside him. “I am— glad that the Fade comforts you, Solas,” she said at last. “But— so few can see what you do. Fewer still would believe it to be true and not just some— trick or story, even if they did.” She wrapped her arms around herself. This had been a bad idea. The conversation did not comfort him as he’d hoped. And it was likely pointless for her. How could he expect her to understand? Just a marionette, strung through the motions of life, like the others. “It is not just the Fade that remembers,” he tried once more, trying to salvage some tranquility from the exchange, trying to draw one true, deep stream of emotion from her. He knew it would be fruitless but— They’d come to a lone pillar. One that had stood for centuries beside an ancient road. It lay prone now, half covered in moss and dirt. He knelt down and touched it. The old runes blazed under his spell and she fell to her knees beside him with a soft gasp. “The land remembers, too, Herald. Just as that stone stair.” Her hand traced the illuminated forms, and he waited, watching her. “Where did they go?” she muttered at last. Her eyes glittered, reflecting the runes and she wiped them with the heel of her hand. “They— became you, Herald. Your clans. This is our mark upon the world.” She shook her head. “It can’t be. I don’t— I can’t even read it. I doubt anyone alive could. We are— more like the humans than these people.” He could not argue with that, though her expression begged him to. He looked back at the pillar. “It says that this was the boundary between Elvehn lands and the dwarven kingdoms. That this pillar was hewn from the living stone by those who lived within it and emblazoned by those who lived above it. It marked a truce. The end of a great war.” She nodded. “Are there more? Like this?” “If you know how to look.” “I don’t even know that much. And even should I find them again… How far we have been driven from what we were. Pushed to the edges of all our lands.” The vallaslin rippled as her brow wrinkled in distress. “Maybe I am foolish for wanting to know.” She sank back on her heels. “I have a— a good life. A kind clan. We usually have enough. The Marches are peaceful enough.” She looked around them at the dark fields of the Hinterlands, stained a dim green by the Breach. “Especially compared to here.” Solas felt a twinge of disappointment, though he’d expected to. She was just like all the others. It was easier to shut her eyes and— “I just— want them to understand what we were. What we could be again. Someday,” she said softly. “That we are worth more than just a handful of—” She stopped abruptly, her mouth pinched as if she were holding the thought back between her teeth. He could not help leaning toward her. “A handful of what, Herald?” She shook her head with a tight smile. “Nothing. I have been too long from them. I begin to forget myself.” She touched the pillar again, tracing the thin script. “You’ve seen this language in the Fade?” “Yes. Some of it,” he lied. “Do you— We will probably be finished with the Breach shortly and go our separate ways, but— if you would help me learn it, I will arrange for a suitable trade from Lavellan. The knowledge would be a great gift for us.” He drew back, hesitant. It was not that knowing would expose him to her, there was little enough left of the language for that and none so far south that could connect him to his old name. It is a waste, Mouseling, he thought. You will only ever see the symbols on the stone. You’ll never feel what was connected to the words, never understand the context they were written in. And your time is so short— “I have offered it to the Dalish before, among other things. They thought it was— what is it you said? A trick. A story. Something worse,” was all he said aloud. It obviously stung her, he could see it in her face, and felt a rumble of unease. “Ir abelas,” she said. He expected her to yield, to stand up and walk back to camp in silence, cowed by his refusal. But instead, she held out a hand to him. “I will trade for it then, lethallin. For me. It will be my debt, not the clan’s. Please.” “How do you know I am not playing a trick? That I’m not telling you a story? Why are you so ready to believe what I have found in the Fade?” he snapped. She did not draw back her hand. “It is all stories, Solas. What we know, what we’ve forgotten, what the Shemlen tell themselves is true— it’s all stories. Is it so wrong to want to hear my own?” “And if it is a story you do not like?” “Then at least it would be a friend who told it. And we are still here, diminished though we may be. I still have a chance to alter the ending.” He took her hand. “Ma’nuvenin,” he said. “Good,” she said and for the first time her smile caused some small stone to shake loose inside him. “What is this one?” She bent back to the pillar, pointing. “That one is atish. And here: an. Atish’an. Peace,” he answered. sorry for the long radio silence. don’t know how many of these there will be. At least three planned so far. Just little lost things. Maybe all Solas POV, maybe not, haven’t decided yet. I’ll be back with more eventually, stuck in end of novel madness right now, but it should be passed soon.

Title: Flowers for the Dead (and the Living), Chapter 2:  For the Living

Fandom: Bravely Default 2

Pairing(s): Galahad/Martha

Word count: 3090

Warnings: Spoilers for ch3 and a side quest shortly after

Summary: For the past year, Galahad has continued to visit Gladys’s grave every few weeks, but he now has another big reason to make the trek to Rimedhal: his rapidly-growing feelings for Martha.

“Will that be all, Galahad dear?”

“Actually, I, um, need another bouquet this time, please.”

The owner of the Wiswald flower shop, an elderly woman named Edith, raised a curious eyebrow at Galahad, who shifted uncomfortably under her gaze as he felt his face heat up. He was out and about early this morning, as he was planning on leaving for Rimedhal as soon as he finished up his business here. It had been just over a year since his sister had died, and he had made a habit of paying a visit to her grave at least once a month.

The past few months, however, he had increased his visits to every couple of weeks, and this time, it had nothing to do with his sister. Sure, he did like spending more time reminiscing at Gladys’s grave, but there was another reason that drove him to visit Rimedhal more frequently.

Martha. Or, more specifically, his rapidly-growing feelings for her.

Galahad had always thought that Martha was a compassionate and beautiful person, but over the course of the year, his fondness for her had grown way, way past the realm of just friendship. Most of the times that he had visited his sister, Martha had shown up at the graveyard too, and they would comfort each other as they talked about their memories of Gladys.

Sometimes, when Martha wasn’t in a rush to return to the Serpent’s Grotto, they would wander around Rimedhal together, usually ending with them enjoying a meal and drink at the tavern. Galahad would update her about current happenings in Wiswald, while Martha would tell him all about her encounters with those foolish enough to try and sneak into her master’s domain uninvited, and they would also just chat about whatever came to their minds at the time. He had grown to treasure these times with her, and it became harder and harder to go back to Wiswald, but Galahad had not been sure why that was.

The answer to that question came a month later, when he returned to Rimedhal. During his time away, Galahad had been oddly restless, and found it hard to focus on work. An empty feeling had settled within his chest, accompanied by a loneliness that he knew he shouldn’t be feeling; he had plenty of friends in Wiswald, after all. The feeling plagued him all month long, and Galahad was starting to think that he should see a doctor about it. However, when Martha found him at the graveyard, everything became clear as day to him.

When Martha had smiled at him, with her bright green eyes sparkling with joy and her steps eager as she approached him for a hug, the hollow feeling inside of him was immediately filled. When she wrapped her arms around him and settled into his embrace, a warmth spread throughout his chest, accompanied by an overwhelming feeling of happiness. When she leaned up and whispered into his ear how much she had missed him, he realized that she was the person that he cared about most, and the one that he would give everything up to protect.

He wasn’t sick, no, he was just in love.

It had been two months since that day, and Galahad felt that he had worked up enough courage by now to tell Martha his true feelings for her. He just needed to not lose that courage before he made it to Rimedhal...

“Ah, g’morning Galahad!”

Galahad was snapped from his thoughts and turned to find Roddy entering the shop. He said a brief hello to Edith before turning back to Galahad, who rubbed at his neck sheepishly.

“Morning, Roddy. Are you getting some flowers for Lily?”

“Aye, I’m planning on surprising her at the institute today,” Roddy said with a slight nod of his head, “But what’s holding you up here? I thought you’d already be on your way to Rimedhal by now.”

“Er, yes, well, I will be leaving after this.”

“Well don’t dally too long, or it’ll get dark before you reach the Wayward Woods. Wouldn’t want you to get lost!” Roddy chuckled as his eyes wandered to the bouquet in his hands. “But it looks like you’re all set already. What’re you waiting for?”

“He needs another bouquet,” Edith chimed in, and a cheeky grin crossed Roddy’s face as he looked back at Galahad.

“Oh? Who for?”

They’re for...a friend…” Galahad mumbled, his eyes not meeting Roddy’s. The older man was silent for a moment, and Galahad could feel his gaze boring into him, as if he was trying to read his mind.

After a few moments of awkward silence, Roddy broke it with a simple question: “So, tell me about this friend, would you?”

Galahad let his gaze wander back to Roddy, and a smile slowly spread across his face as he spoke. “Ah, well, her name is Martha. She’s the guardian of the Serpent’s Grotto, and she was a good friend of Gladys’s.”

“She’s very insightful, and wise beyond her years. It’s so easy to talk to her, and I always feel like I can really let my guard down around her,” Galahad continued, his smile growing as he closed his eyes, an image of Martha appearing in his mind, “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone as compassionate as her, but she will always fight fiercely to protect her master, and anyone she cares about.”

He sighed fondly as the image of Martha in his head smiled sweetly at him, and he felt his cheeks heat up. “She’s also...incredibly beautiful. I’ve never seen a smile as bright as hers, and her eyes are so vibrant and a pretty emerald green. Oh, and her hair-”

Galahad was cut off when Roddy suddenly burst out laughing, and he flushed with embarrassment when he realized that he had been rambling. When Roddy composed himself, he slapped a hand to Galahad’s back and shook his head.

“Aye, it sounds to me like you’re head-over-heels in love with this friend of yours, lad.”

Flushing an even deeper shade of red, Galahad opened his mouth to protest, but he knew that it was futile at this point; Roddy had seen right through him. He let out a sigh of defeat, followed by a nervous chuckle.

“Is it...really that obvious?”

“Ach, of course it is!” Roddy said, and Edith giggled as she nodded in agreement. “You had a certain gleam in your eye when you were just gushing about her that told me exactly how much she means to you.”

“Really?”

Roddy laughed again, and shared a knowing glance with Edith. “Aye, I’ve been told that I get a mighty fond look in my own eyes when I talk of my dear Lily.” Galahad knew that look well. Roddy and Lily were certainly not shy about showing their affection for one another, and the thought of Galahad acting the same way only made him feel even more embarrassed.

“So I take it you’re planning on telling her, eh?” Roddy asked as he glanced over the counter at Edith, who had started putting together Galahad’s second bouquet.

“Ah, yes. Although...I must admit, I’m a bit nervous.” A bit was a huge understatement, as Galahad’s palms had begun to sweat just at the very thought of telling Martha that he loved her. “What if I say the wrong thing? Or she doesn’t feel the same? Oh, but what if I can’t say it at all-”

“Oi, hold on there.” Roddy laughed and shook his head. “What’s that saying that our old pal Elvis is always preaching? ‘Don’t sweat the details.’ Just tell her, and whatever happens, happens.”

“But-”

“Trust me, laddie. Better to confess with a chance of rejection than to leave these things unsaid, when they could lead two people to a lifetime of love and happiness together.”

Galahad’s brow creased as he pondered Roddy’s words. He was right. The regret that Galahad felt over not visiting Gladys more often when she was alive was enough to deal with; he didn’t need the added regret of never telling Martha how he really felt about her.

“Ach, I know, you’re right,” Galahad said, a determined look crossing his face as he pushed his glasses farther up the bridge of his nose, “I’ll tell her, as soon as I can.”

“That’s a good lad! I wish you luck!”

“Thank you, Roddy,” Galahad said, and they bid farewell to each other when Galahad paid for his flowers and left the shop. As he followed the road that led out of Wiswald, Galahad started contemplating exactly how he would go about confessing his feelings to Martha. He looked down at the bouquets in his hands and swallowed thickly.

“I think I might need all the luck that I can get…”

---

Rimedhal was as cold as ever, and Galahad shivered slightly as he placed a bouquet at Gladys’s grave. He closed his eyes, mumbled a few prayers, and cleaned the snow from the headstone, like he always did when he visited. Martha hadn’t shown up yet, and the nerves that Galahad had been trying to keep at bay started stirring again within his gut.

To try and distract himself, Galahad moved away from Gladys’s grave and wandered towards the frozen lake. He had never really taken the time to appreciate how beautiful the area near the graveyard was, and Galahad was glad the Gladys had been laid to rest somewhere with such a spectacular view.

“Oh! There you are, Galahad!”

Galahad’s eyes widened as he turned around to see Martha walking towards him, and the beautiful smile on her face made his breath catch in his suddenly dry throat.

“H-Hello, Martha. It is...good to see you.” Galahad managed to force the words out, and he held his arms out when she moved to hug him. The feeling of her arms around him made Galahad’s heart race, but as his face pressed against her hair, the sweet lavender scent of her shampoo helped to ease his nerves a bit.

When they parted, Martha’s eyes darted to the bouquet of flowers in his hand. “Did you not visit Gladys yet? I thought I saw a bouquet at her grave already.”

“W-Well, yes...I put those there.” Martha tilted her head curiously as she examined the flowers, and Galahad couldn’t help but think that she looked incredibly adorable, especially when she smiled as she looked up at him.

“These flowers are so pretty! Are they for Gladys too? Oh! Is there a special reason that you brought two bouquets for her? Oh no, maybe I should get another one-”

“Actually no,” Galahad quickly interrupted her, and he paused to take a deep breath when she looked at him with a curious eyebrow raised. He let it out slowly, and he could barely hear himself speaking over the roaring of his heartbeat in his ears. “They...they’re for you, Martha.”

“Me?” Martha’s eyes went wide, and Galahad swallowed thickly as he tried to gather his scattered thoughts.

“I just, well, I wanted to-No wait, uh, you see, M-Martha, I really, uh, like s-spending time with you and...no, wait, I’m…” Galahad stumbled awkwardly over his words, and he felt like his nervousness was going to overwhelm him. He grit his teeth and cursed his weakness; he was going to mess this whole thing up at this rate.

“Galahad...Are you trying to tell me that you love me?”

Galahad’s jaw went slack as he stared dumbfounded at Martha, who watched him patiently with an amused smile on her face. First Roddy, then Martha...Galahad really was too easy to read when it came to these kinds of feelings. When he finally snapped out of his stupor, he let out a nervous chuckle and rubbed at the back of his head.

“I, uh, y-yes, I am. I-I love you, Martha, r-really.” He must have looked like a complete, stuttering fool, and his glasses began to fog up from the heat radiating from his beet-red cheeks.

Martha giggled - and what a soft, wonderful sound that was - as she reached up and gently took Galahad’s glasses. She pulled a handkerchief from her coat pocket and wiped them clean, and Galahad’s heart raced as he watched her with wide eyes.

When she was finished, Martha placed his glasses back where they belonged, and Galahad opened his mouth to thank her. His words caught in his throat, however, when her hands moved to cup his face, her soft fingers lightly caressing his overheated cheeks. Galahad’s eyes locked with hers, and she leaned up, pressing her lips to his in a feather-light kiss.

All of the air left Galahad’s lungs, as if he had been punched hard right in the gut, and he forgot how to breathe. Martha...was kissing him. Martha was kissing him. He really couldn’t believe this was actually happening. He was at a loss as to what to do, and he could only stare slack-jawed at Martha when she pulled away, her hands still cupping his cheeks.

“I love you too, Galahad.”

If it was possible, Galahad’s jaw would have dropped right to the ground. Instead, he snapped his mouth shut and barely managed a soft response. “You...do?”

“Of course I do!” Martha said, as if this was an obvious thing that he should have known already, “I’ve loved you for quite some time now!”

“You...have?” Galahad asked slowly; he was still trying to process the fact that she had actually loved him in return, and the revelation that she had also been hiding her feelings for him was almost too much to deal with. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I suppose I was just waiting for the right moment. And I can’t think of a much better moment than right after you confessed first!” Martha said, a cheeky grin crossing her face as she pressed her forehead against his. Galahad stared at her for a moment, before he burst out laughing. Gods, he really was in love with the most amazing woman in the world. An overwhelming amount of happiness flooded through him, and he suddenly wrapped his arms around Martha and lifted her into the air.

“Martha, you’re just...incredible.” Without waiting for her to respond, Galahad used one arm to support her, while he reached up to place his other hand behind her neck, and he gently guided her head down so that he could capture her lips in another, more passionate kiss. Martha let out a surprised squeak, but she managed to recover quickly and eagerly returned the kiss, her arms snaking around Galahad’s neck to pull him even closer.

When they finally parted, Galahad was given pause at the look of absolute admiration in Martha’s stunning emerald eyes as she looked at him, and he really didn’t feel at all deserving of a look like that. Yet, she still loved him of all people, and he would never, ever take that for granted.

“Oh, I’m so happy, Galahad!” Martha gushed as she placed her hands on his shoulders, “This really does seem like a dream come true, being loved by such a sweet, handsome man!” Galahad let out a sheepish laugh as he rubbed at the back of his neck.

“I’m surprised that you still think so highly of me, after I blundered my confession so badly.”

“Oh, I don’t mind at all! It was cute, seeing you all nervous and flustered like that!” Martha teased, and Galahad averted his gaze bashfully.

“Martha, please...” Galahad’s cheeks burned with embarrassment as Martha tried and failed to stifle her giggles, but a smile slowly spread across Galahad’s face and he placed a quick kiss on her cheek. “Will you allow me to try and redeem myself, at least?”

Martha nodded and Galahad gently set her back on her feet. He took one of her hands, which seemed so small and delicate compared to his own, and lifted it to his face so that he could place a tender kiss on her knuckles. Her face flushed a bright pink in color, and Galahad gazed fondly at her as he entwined their fingers together.

“I love you, so much more than words could say. I know that I failed to protect Gladys and Mona, but even so...I want to protect you.” Galahad reached up to cup her face and his thumb brushed gently over Martha’s lips, and his heart soared when he felt her smile against his skin. “I want to protect this beautiful smile of yours, and I want to make you happy, more than anything.”

“I can protect myself, you know,” Martha said with a wink, “but if that’s what you really want, then in exchange, I’m going to protect you.”

Galahad’s eyes went wide at that. He had always been a large and rather intimidating man; he easily towered over all of his peers in Wiswald. He could defend himself and others well enough, but this was the first time someone had offered to protect him. It was a weird, yet comforting feeling, and he knew that he was in good hands if he had the guardian of the Serpent’s Grotto looking out for him.

“I...think that I can live with that.” Galahad kissed her forehead and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her flush against him, and he could feel her heart beating just as fast as his. “Thank you, Martha. You really have become the brightest part of my life. I really cannot thank you enough for being here for me when my grief threatened to consume me. I love you.”

Martha let out a content sigh as she sank into his embrace and nuzzled her cheek against his neck. “I love you too, Galahad. You have a good heart, and I feel so blessed that you’ve chosen me to share it with.” Galahad let out a rumbling chuckle as he ran a hand through her hair.

“That feeling is very much mutual...my beloved,” Galahad whispered. The chilly winds of Rimedhal started to whip up around them, but Galahad felt nothing but warmth, and he knew that the bitter cold that had once held his heart in a vice grip would never touch him again, as long as Martha was by his side.

Return to the Sea (P2)

As soon as she had left Nikolai that day Zoya asked the Fabrikators to fashion her a kefta fit for sea travel. They finished it no more than a day later, and before she knew it she was approaching the docks.

She had traded fashion for practicality and tied her black curls into a loose knot. She carried herself with authority, although she was sure all of Nikolai’s crew would already know the stories of her wrath. First impressions were important, and she didn’t intend to disappoint. She boarded the boat, searching the crowd for a familiar face. The ship smelled of fish, and was overall unpleasant. She scrunched up her nose and approached a man working the ropes.

“I need to find your captain,” she stated, going over his features. He certainly looked the part of a pirate. His nose looked like it had been broken multiple times, and his red hair stuck up in strange directions. “Where would I find him?”

It was his grin that finally placed him. One side of his mouth turned up slightly, and she couldn’t help but feel there was a challenge lying beneath his features. “Well you won’t be forced to look too far,” Nikolai teased, “Captain Sturmhond, at your service.”

She should have known he’d have a tailor on the ship to conceal his identity, but she couldn’t help recoiling a bit. Hearing a voice she knew so well come out of a complete stranger seemed wrong to her. This wasn’t her Nikolai, and for reasons she couldn’t determine, it startled her.

No, she chided herself, this is exactly the kind of stunt the Nikolai I know would pull.

She rolled her eyes. “Of course you’d insist on blending in with commoners.” She looked him over again. For the first time, she could safely say she was dressed better than the king.

“Glad to see the stench has yet to strip you of your cynicism, Zoya.” He said with an easy smile, only further infuriating her. But her frustration didn’t last. Nikolai was back in his element- or one of his elements- and she could see his enthusiasm written on his face. Something about seeing the childish joy in him threw water on her mind’s fire. “Come this way,” he moved farther into the center of the ship, “I’ll introduce you to my crew.”

She followed behind, her boots clicking against the deck. Nikolai told her the names of the people they passed. She took it all in, studying them, planning how she would approach them, memorizing which ones she could felt were trustworthy. She trusted Nikolai’s men to be good to him, but men were men. Their good nature did not always extend to powerful Grisha.

Aside from her usual suspicion and complaints, she enjoyed herself. Nikolai rambled on about the ships mechanics, and though she had no interest in sailing he said it with such passion that she actually found herself listening. Eventually he separated from her to give the commands to set sail, but he was back by her side before the sun had set.

The first few days went on like this. She and Nikolai stuck together. He knew the others well, and played off her rudeness with ease. She wasn’t very approachable and she knew it. She didn’t intend to make friends. She was there to protect Ravka and to keep Nikolai in check.

Though, she would admit that she was enjoying time away from the power struggle that was the captial.

However, as time went on Nikolai’s responsibilities increased. He spent hours directing the ship through complex terrains, and when he wasn’t sleeping he was planning their attack. It would be an ambush, and precision was required to pull it off. Aside from this, she was uncomfortably aware of the changes in his personality while on the ship. She understood, of course, what was required to lead, but understanding does not stop the anxiety that rises in a person’s chest when they see someone they care for become a new person.

She spent a majority of her time aboard between watching the water and hiding in her cabin. If she hadn’t been a legendary squaller and a soldier, perhaps she would have even said she was lonely. Although, is loneliness not the emotion all strong girls know the best?

She didn’t blame Nikolai for it. She had let herself hope for things that she knew she could not have. A child’s dream, really, to be loved for more than a night. One that she should have forgotten long ago but had resurfaced lately. That night, in the war room, she had let herself believe he saw her as more than a vain and angry girl. She thought he had come to hear the words she didn’t say. The sentences that she learned were not fit for a survivor, but she longed to speak none the less. Zoya’s mind felt like a maze, but people don’t tend notice what is not handed to them with a shiny bow.

Hope was a luxury she had not earned.

So why did her stomach jump when Nikolai entered her cabin at the end of their second week at sea? She could of vomited at her own painful naivety. They were not a couple of school kids, they were trying to run a country. Neither of them were without underlying ambitions.

She was sitting on her cot when he knocked on the door frame. “Can I come in?” He asked, though she suspected he didn’t expect to be refused.

She nodded, and her walked over to the other bed in the room and sat down across from her. He looked tired.

“We’ve entered the area that Fjerdan ships have been spotted. I don’t expect an attack, but you’re the best fighter aboard and I need you to be on high alert. If everything goes according to plan we should find their ship before the weeks end.” He explained. It was time. Their next battle was close, and no one could ever be sure what the outcome would be. Zoya only knew she’d do what she always did- live, no matter what.

“I’ll do what I can. Just get me off this damned boat.” She retorted, with truth in her words. Isolation may be her long term companion but that didn’t mean she wanted to endure it while she was cold, wet, and stuck with the boy she wished would give her an escape from it.

“Thank you,” He replied, knowing by now that she demanded more respect than she offered. He sighed, and she could tell that he was thinking about the lives he was about to put in jepordy. Ever since the civil war he’d been overly conscious of the blood on his hands, even if he didn’t say it.

“I should get back to work.” He said, pushing himself up towards the door. She didn’t reply, unsure of whether she should offer a friend’s comfort or a colleague’s proper formality.

He stopped at the door. “Zoya?”

She caught her breath. “What now, Nikolai?”

He paused as if considering his words, and whether or not he truly wanted to speak them. In the end all he said was “Have a nice night.”

He left her there, analyzing the encounter and hardening herself towards the heartbreak to come. She shouldn’t have let herself be caught up in personal matters.

The next time she and Nikolai spoke was under heavy fire.

The first shot rang out in the morning sky like the cry of a child in a silent temple. It hit a girl she couldn’t name in the arm. Afterwards there was only chaos.

Despite Nikolai’s careful planning the pirates had brought the fight to them. Burly men and women crowed on to their ship weilding a mixture of guns and knives. Zoya was one of the first to take action. She yelled to the others to take shelter and open fire. Soon the sound of guns conversing was all she could hear.

Zoya managed to knock one man off the side with a gust of wind, but she could only manage so much, and the pirates had Grisha as well. She combatted Inferni flame, putting it out before it could reach anything of importance.

Perhaps they found each other out of habit, but it wasn’t long before she and Nikolai were fighting back to back. “What do we know?” He yelled to her, pistol in hand.

They were both distracted by reeking havoc on their enemy, so conversation was strictly reserved for priority. “It seems like we have the right numbers but they know what they’re doing. We may be outmatched.”

He shook his head. “My crew knows how to fight. Just keep their Grisha at bay.”

She focused her power on the edges of the ship, keeping the pirates from advancing and knocking them off balance if she could. For a few moments it seemed to be working. The odds were beginning to shift in their favor when the shot was fired.

She heard it before she saw it. She knew she didn’t have enough time to focus on redirecting her power as the bullet shrieked towards Nikolai. Zoya wasn’t a lot of things- likable, caring, humble- but if she was anything she was a soldier. A soldier knew their mission, they thought fast in a crisis, and most importantly they knew the value of the people fighting beside them. When you faced death together enough, suddenly it wasn’t just your own life you wished to save.

She jumped in front of him just in time to take the shot.

Time seemed to slow as the silver metal buried itself in her stomach. She crumpled to the ground, somehow still surprised by the warm blood she felt as she hugged her gut. Nikolai was at her side a split second later. She wasn’t sure if he knew what she had done, but in that moment she could hardly find it in herself to care. The commotion around her became too much for her ears. She knew Nikolai was yelling something, maybe there were even tears in his eyes. It was impossible to be sure.

She called on her remaining strength. The strength of a girl who had only ever known how it felt to be struggling to stay above water when fate wanted her to drown. She looked him in the eye, her face steel, and slid her bloodied hand into his. She needed the small comfort of knowing her hand fit perfectly in his. He wasn’t wearing gloves so she could feel the rigid scars on his skin.

Darkness crowded her vision.

“Do what needs to be done.” She ordered, letting herself release his palm. She was crying and she was afraid, but if she died she needed it to be for a reason.

The last thing she saw before the world went black was the pained nod Nikolai gave in reply.

What has been one of the most challenging things you’ve experienced or are currently experiencing?

“Coming out.”

Tell me about that.

“I always knew I was gay, or I always knew I was different, or something, I don’t know what. I didn’t really know gay was a thing for a while. And then once I learned it was a thing, I was like that’s definitely me, but it was always something that was never talked about. So I still always felt different, which is the case for a lot of people. I don’t know why I had a tough time with it. My family never said anything bad about gay people or anything like that.”

Did you grow up in a religious family?

“We weren’t really religious. My mom’s family was all Catholic, and we grew up going to CCD. I’m a confirmed Catholic, but I don’t believe in anything. It was just because that what we were supposed to do. I don’t think that’s what gave me a hard time. I’ve just always been a closed-off person, so I felt like I needed to keep that to myself.”

Was there a point when keeping it in started to have a negative impact on your life?

“Yeah, high school. I definitely began to shut everyone out. Most of my family because I was embarrassed or I didn’t want to embarrass them, even though I knew they wouldn’t be. I think I was more embarrassed. Probably still am. That’s why I blame everybody else.”

What do you mean by blame everybody else?

“For whenever I am angry or why I don’t necessarily feel comfortable.”

You mean comfortable in your own skin?

“Yeah. And then in high school I really shut people out. College, did a lot of drugs. Smoked a lot of weed. Probably still smoke too much weed. Anything to not have to think.”

Where does your mind go to when you’re thinking?

“Just loneliness, I guess. Yeah, just feeling alone.”

How long have you felt alone?

“As long as I can remember, really. It’s just always been something I’ve had to hide.”

The fact that you feel alone?

“I think the fact that I felt I had to hide that I was gay forced me to keep everything in, which now that I keep everything in makes me feel alone, or lonely.”

Is there a fear attached to letting it out? What would happen if you let it out?

“I don’t know. I have a fear of people leaving me. That probably makes little sense. If I do share something, then maybe it’ll force someone to not want to be in my life.”

Has that been something you’ve experience at some point in your life, where you’ve shared something personal or vulnerable and the person has left?

“I definitely had people just walk for what seems to be no reason. Growing up, I was always moving around, so I never really had a lot of friends until I met the friends I have now, and they’ve been my friends ever since. I just have a fear of people leaving, I don’t know why.”

It’s ironic, because it seems like your fear of people leaving is the very thing that is isolating you and making you feel lonely.

“Yeah, definitely keeps me from making too many new friends, because my mind says what’s the point? It’s just going to end eventually.”

You mentioned you moved around a lot, was that in your childhood?

“Yeah. We moved nine times before I was in first grade, because of my dad’s job. He’s retired now, but he worked for a big corporation. They would buy a smaller company and he would go in, basically rip it apart, and then we would move onto the next place.”

It must have been difficult to start at so many new schools and try to make friends.

“Definitely making friends, because it’s already not easy. Especially for a kid—or maybe it’s easier for a kid.”

What was high school like for you?

“It was pretty normal. I tried my best to seem straight. Trying to talk differently, dress how I thought you were supposed to dress. How a straight person was supposed to dress. Pretend to like girls and talk about girls. Stuff I never really cared about. I just forced myself to be fake, and I think that’s why I have no interest in it now.”

When did you recognize that you were attracted to guys?

“I want to say probably middle school, late middle school. When people started talking about crushes or actually dating, middle school dating, whatever that is. I thought guys would just pick a girl and that’s who their crush was.”

Did you feel pressure from your parents to have a girlfriend and to be involved with someone?

“No, never really. I mean, they’ve always asked, ‘Are you dating anybody?’ that type of thing. But never why aren’t you dating anybody or stuff like that. No, they never really forced any opinions on me, which is why it baffles me that I just have such a hard time with it. I didn’t come from a house where that should have been the case.”

Sounds like you must have had some expectation of yourself that you felt like weren’t meeting.

“I guess I set higher standards, higher bars for myself.”

Did you think you could be straight if you wanted to, or if you tried hard enough?

“Yeah, I thought I could fake it. I feel that it’s that thought that drove me more into depression and separating myself from everybody.”

Do you remember what that depression felt like?

“Miserable. You don’t want to talk to anybody, you don’t want to move, like get up or leave. It was just ‘I’m going to be at home and I’m going to smoke this weed and I’m just going to sit here and watch TV because that’s what’s comfortable right now.’ Then that just became all the time.”

Did your parents show any concern that you were kind of slipping into the shadows?

“Yeah, they did, and then whenever someone asked me if I needed help, I tend to just push them away, and go farther into my corner, which I am working on. They definitely noticed and even that was painful for me, because I knew they were wanting to help, but I wouldn’t let them or I didn’t want them to. My mom still, it’s kind of painful to see her, because she knows I am still depressed and she doesn’t know how to help. It kills me that I make her feel that way.”

So even though you’re trying to hide something she can see it.

“Yeah, and even now that I am not even hiding anything, she still knows whenever I am depressed, and that’s not what I am trying to hide.”

How are you coping with it these days? Any differently?

“I am definitely better with the whole gay thing. Just time helped. I would say I am still depressed, but not like how I was in the past. Just time and learning how to be comfortable with myself, or trying to learn. Every day helps a little bit.”

So you’re depressed, you’re isolating, you’re kind of comforting yourself in the privacy of your bedroom, numbing yourself with TV, in high school smoking pot, parents are concerned you’re not really letting them get involved. You go on to college. What does that look like?

“Pretty much a continuation of what that was in high school. I do more drugs, probably harder drugs than just weed. Coke. Molly. Acid. Shrooms. Anything to get my mind off of whatever. Ativan. Xanax. Stuff like that. When I felt like I needed something to be around people and have fun, or for people to see me as fun, because I am a pretty quiet person. I felt like people saw me as boring, so I needed that extra whatever. And then when I was on that stuff, I would talk to anybody and have a great time, but then the next day I would be in my room again.”

That must have been quite a roller coaster.

Yeah, I guess. At the same time, I was like every gay guy goes through this, so I just felt like an idiot for being so down about it, and that’s what got me more depressed. There’s so many other people that go through it too, why would I feel sorry for myself on that?”

So on top of being depressed, you’re shaming yourself and judging yourself for feeling the way you did? Did that help?

“No, not at all.”

Were you able to get through college?

“I did, and I even graduated #1 within my college/school.”

How’d you get through it?

“Just alone, for the most part.

Were the any moments where you felt like giving up? Were you able to let someone in?

“Thought about giving up, but I felt like at the same time, while I would have wanted to, I just always went back to my mom. I could never do that to my mom, so I guess that’s what kept me.”

Sounds like you have a connection with your mother.

“Well, growing up with my dad’s work he traveled a lot. He was a great father when he was around and provided everything. We had everything in the world, but for the most part it was me, my sister, and my mom.

So at what point did you reveal that you were gay or felt you were gay?

“I was a senior in college when I told my parents. I was home. We had just had dinner and I just felt like I had to say it right then. When I was saying it I cried and then they cried. Then they were like yeah we had an idea and all that, and it was fine obviously. I was pissed at myself afterwards for not coming out sooner. I was just pissed at myself for that.”

Sounds like you’re pretty hard on yourself.

“Yeah, definitely.”

How did it feel to let that out and to cry and have to your parents cry?

“It was huge.”

Must have felt like quite a release.

“Definitely. And even building up to that, I came out to my sister beforehand, before them, about a year before. She had a gay roommate. I knew she’d be fine with it. So that was kind of like my first sense of feeling comfortable with it was when I came out to her.”

Had you had experiences with men leading up to that?

“Just like Grindr hookups or something like that. No real dating or stuff like that.”

Sounds like a lot of physical transactions.

“Mostly.”

Did you find any sort of emotional connection with anyone at any point?

“At one point, with one person and then at the time I wasn’t out, so I pulled away before it went too far.”

How about friends-wise? Did you have any friends that you could be emotionally vulnerable with?

“I’m sure that I could have, but I wasn’t. It’s just not ever who I was. I mean the type to open up, then if I did that secret, if it is a secret that’s out there and then if they were to disappear then who knows. It’s that type of thing too, I guess.”

So you’re a senior in college, you have already come out to your sister a year prior, you’ve had some experience with men, you had a history of using drugs and alcohol to make yourself feel more comfortable to not get trapped in your thoughts and to feel accepted. What happens next?

“I don’t know. Trying to figure it out. I just need to be more open to talking to people. I think that’ll help me. Trying to say yes to more experiences. Leave my apartment every now and then.”

Is that your safe place?

“Yeah, definitely.”

How did you make the friends that you have today?

“Most of them have been my friends for 20 years. I don’t really know. Just over time they’ve come into my life and the good ones have stayed.”

Do you feel like they see you and accept you for who you are? Can you tell them if you feel like you’re drowning, or if there is something weighing on your heart?

“Yeah. I could definitely tell them that, not sure I do but they are that type of people.”

So at this point if your life, now, how are you coping with still feeling depressed and uncomfortable in your own skin sometimes?

“Well there are still days when I feel like when I feel like I need a . . . I don’t do hard drugs anymore, but I still smoke and kind of curl up in my room and do nothing. Separate myself but in a healthier way. I do try to see a therapist as much as I can, although it’s usually just a staring contest.”

Really?

“I need someone to ask me questions. I can’t just talk.”

Did you choose to see a therapist, or was that something that was encouraged?

“It was encouraged, but it’s a choice now.”

Who encouraged it?

“My parents, mostly. Doctors. I think trying not to separate myself is the biggest thing going forward: like stay in the group, go out on Friday, talk to people. I guess even if it is small talk.”

Sometimes it can be helpful when it comes to talking to new people to try engaging yourself in things you find interesting so that you’re around people that you, hopefully, have a shared interest with—something in common—and that can often create some equanimity. Even the feelings of loneliness are a commonality that every human being has: experiencing loneliness, that kind of hot aching loneliness. You never know when looking at our social media feeds.

“I know, it doesn’t help anything. Yeah, I’m surprised more people don’t talk about loneliness.”

It’s a driving factor in addiction, depression. Even diseases, they say there are studies that show people who are lonely are more sick and die earlier. The same is true for people who are isolated, because you can be lonely and still be surrounded by people.

“Right.”

But also there are people who are isolated, who are not around people, who are experiencing loneliness as well on top of it. Do you feel like the age we live today, with social media and all these different ways we can connect with people in the blink of an eye from all over the world, are helpful as tools to connect with people and to create relationships?

“I think being able to connect with people is a good thing. Where I think it has a negative impact is the pictures. You only see the perfect picture, so that’s what you think their life is and that’s what you try and get your life to be, which never works, so it’s only cause for disappointment. It has its good and bad.”

Have you learned anything about yourself over the years through this process?

“Probably. I don’t know what. I wish I could say that I was a stronger person.”

Why can’t you say that?

“I don’t know, I just don’t think I am. I feel like I let my depression defeat me a lot or I let it win rather than working through it, and talking to somebody or going out, or occupying my time. I just get lost in a bad thought and crawl up into a ball. I think strength would be being able to move past that.”

I consider strength the willingness to lean into it and to acknowledge it. Strength isn’t necessarily that we just pull up our boot straps and carry on. Strength is developed through acknowledging that there is a wound or there is pain to begin with, to be with it and to feel it.

“That makes sense.”

It takes strength. Does it comfort you at all to know that there are others who share the same feelings and emotions, even though they may have different reasons?

“Yeah, definitely. It just goes back to . . . it would be nice if people were just upfront about it.”

When I asked if I could interview you, you really didn’t hesitate at all to say yes. Knowing what I know now, it’s a pretty brave thing for you to do, to communicate on this level when you’re inclined to keep things to yourself.

“I was trying to say yes to more.”

How is that changing your life, if at all?

“Well, I am just starting. I would love to see, but so far I’m happy when I say yes. I think it’s a good thing.”

Is there any advice you would offer to your younger self, maybe if your self today could have a sit and chat with your 10-year-old self, some words of wisdom, comfort, or support that you would might offer your 10-year-old self?

“It’s perfectly okay to be yourself. Just be who you are, because every time I do something embarrassing, I’m embarrassed, but nobody else notices. That’s the biggest lesson: just stop being so embarrassed to do anything, or worried about being embarrassed, or what other people think.”

At the end of the day, the most important thing is what you think of yourself. You’re the one who has to live with you, and there’s no way to know what other people think of you. It’s actually not really any of our business to know what other people think of us. And the truth is everyone is worrying that the same thing: how they are being perceived or what someone else is thinking about them. It’s really not even about us. Is there a piece of advice or a word of wisdom, or a song lyric, or a quote from a book, or a meme, or something that someone has said to you that sticks with you that you would like to share?

“Can I think about it and go back to it? I don’t know off the top of my head.”

We can come back to that. How has it felt to talk about these feelings and experiences with me today?

“Nerve-racking but good. It’s not something I ever really do. It’s good to say it out loud. I think it’s something I should do more. Yeah, definitely nervous, even though I didn’t hesitate to say yes.”

Do you think it’s possible that by sharing your feelings and experiences with me today, someone listening to this or reading this may be able to benefit and know that they are not alone, gain some hope and inspiration?

“Maybe a little bit. I didn’t really offer any solutions but, I guess knowing that you’re not alone in that sense of the word.”