#(and her brain over corrected when she remembered to it just being Her Father | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

grievedeeply · 2 years ago

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the less time, the better. pt 3.

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pairing: heimdall x gn!reader

summary: the days pass slowly in asgard as you find yourself becoming closer to heimdall, and he draws nearer to figuring out what his feelings for you are.

notes: all of the support on this has been absolutely crazy and i'm beyond grateful!! thank you all very much :") not proof read so mistakes are probably there lol. reader's getting feelings and heimdall's finally realizing what the feelings are!! y/n is VERY flirty in this chapter also!! this is shorter than the last part, but focuses solely on heimdall's relationship with y/n :) enjoy and let me know what you think!

it was to niflheim in search of the last mask piece. in due time. odin had told you to take your time, to enjoy all of the splendors and pleasantries asgard had to offer. you resisted the urge to groan at his words. you knew he was lying. he wanted you to find it as quickly as possible— to unlock whatever secrets he thought were hidden in the crack sitting in his library. what was up with that thing, anyway?

you wouldn't let him see it. even if it held nothing.

if heimdall didn't get in your way, first.

mimir had mentioned before that he was essentially odin's lapdog, that he protected him and asgard with his own life. he was correct. you swore he didn't have a brain to think on his own. even with his foresight, he couldn't see that he was being used, just like everyone else was. just like mimir, freya, týr.. you hated thinking about it. odin didn't care for him. he was just a good manipulator.

you pushed the thought out of your mind as you opened the door to your room, making your way up the stairs and to the mess hall to pick up some breakfast before you would train. you wanted to be prepared for your journey, but you would take your time. see how long it takes for odin to ask you to go himself.

you pulled out a chair at an empty table in the far corner, taking off the sheath your sword was held in and sitting it on the table. you found that the einherjar would look at you less strangely if you took off your weapons and laid them down. you would do that if it drew less attention to you.

your breakfast was cold when you got it. you weren't too sure why, but it was the only meal available, so you started picking at it with your fork. you rested your cheek on the palm of your hand, biting at the inside of your lip as you thought about.. well, everything.

your mind lingered back to your father and brother, then to freya.. then to baldur. you sighed at the image of him in your mind. looking back, he was a sad, lost man. he was desperate for answers. blinded by odin. you pitied him, and you would be lying if you said you hated watching him die. it was something you could never erase from your mind no matter how much you wanted to.

freya.. you remembered the look on her face on that day. you thought of her often. you knew she mourned baldur. you were friends, at one point. you missed that. she was motherly, a kind mentor and advisor to you and atreus back then. now, she was a shell of the woman she once was without her son. your father had stripped her of her choice. it made you sad to think about.

"well, well." a voice rung out from behind you, and you sighed. you recognized it, of course. heimdall. hardly anyone else talked to you, anyway. you glanced over your shoulder to look at him, you greeted him with a thin lipped smile. "hey, pretty boy." you said. he blinked a few times, mouth falling open at your words.

"c'mon. close your mouth, you'll catch flies." you chuckled, turning your attention back to your freezing food in front of you. it was nowhere near gone, solely due to the quality of it. it was.. okay, other days.

he cleared his throat. how have you managed to leave him speechless this many times? it was out of character for him to not have a snarky response to someone. what was so different about you?

"the allfather wanted me to remind you," he began, coming up from behind you. you felt his hands on your shoulders, squeezing them tightly. it felt surprisingly good. "of your mission. that is why you are here, is it not?" you let out a breath. you should've known he would have someone else come to talk to you about it instead of himself.

"yeah. i know. i'm a little busy right now." you gestured at your food, a soft sigh escaping from your lips. you wished it was hotter. "you don't look it. you haven't even touched it." heimdall retorted, his hands still on your shoulders. what was that feeling in your chest? it felt.. tight. you shrugged it off.

"yeah, because it's—"

"cold. i'm aware." he cut you off before you could even finish your sentence. "i could tell." he told you, glancing down at it with a look of disgust. he turned his head and snapped his fingers. a young looking mortal came up to him, a scared look in their eyes as they stared up at him. "fetch a new plate, will you? hot, this time. i'll know if it isn't." he grinned, clearly intimidating who he spoke to. "bye bye, now." he waved them off, pulling out the chair next to you.

he took gjallarhorn off of his belt, sitting it down on the table in front of him. you saw his eyes as he looked at it. proud? nervous? you couldn't tell. it was probably both. bearing it would be something to be proud of.. but it was also a reason to be scared. heimdall being scared was something that put you off. you pushed the idea away.

"what was that for?" you asked, an eyebrow raised as you watched the mortal scurry away. they looked terrified, and you could hardly blame them. you would be too, if you were in their shoes. "to get you moving. we have much to do." he replied without a moment's hesitation, and you chuckled.

"so, you didn't do that because you care about me?" you decided to tease, and his face flushed a light pink. had he done it because he.. cared about you? he shook his head, not sure if he was answering you or himself. "in your dreams." he spoke after a pause, and you rolled your eyes.

"you? please. i could do better."

"how so?"

you furrowed your brow. where was this conversation going? why were you talking about this? what were you doing?

"well.. i'm sure there are plenty of people out there who aren't condescending, overconfident, obnoxious, annoying.. petty. should i continue?" you asked, tilting your head with a mischievous look in your eye.

was he really all of those things? he rolled his eyes, "i would love to see you try to do better than me."

"sounds like you're in love with me." you replied without missing a beat, and his stomach dropped. in love? that was.. too much. he didn't even like you. not like that. right?

he took a moment to collect himself, and you laughed. "you are, aren't you?" he clenched his jaw. "do you ever shut up?" his voice was filled with frustration, and he sounded almost embarrassed. you chuckled, "you started it."

you both fell silent, and it suddenly felt awkward. you were only teasing. did he take it that seriously?

you cleared your throat, cutting through the tension. "i was just kidding. you know that, right?" you glanced over at him, and his eyes met yours.

why were they so.. beautiful?

if he replied, you didn't hear him. your gaze was focused on the galaxies he held in his eyes. they were captivating. why were you thinking like this? what was wrong with you?

he snapped his fingers in front of your face, and you released a breath you didn't even realize you had been holding. you blinked, focusing back in on the conversation. "did you hear me?" he asked, and you shook your head. "sorry. i was just thinking."

he let out an annoyed sounding sigh. "i said.. i know." he told you, tearing his eyes off of you.

the more he looked at you, the more he found himself thinking about you. you would come into his mind at the strangest of times, and he caught himself picturing your smile as he patrolled the top of the wall days ago.

you let out a breathless, soft chuckle, "good. good." you licked your lips, suddenly finding more interest in the table in front of you rather than the god sitting next to you.

what was he doing anyway? he didn't have to keep sitting here. why was he spending his time with you instead of doing something more valuable? more important?

"why are you here?" you asked, cracking your knuckles as you pulled your fixated gaze off of the table and onto him. "the allfather is eager for you to go to niflheim. as i said before. i'm ensuring that you remain true to your word, and go." he nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders, a smirk on his lips as he stared at you.

you nodded, "right. you're definitely not here because you secretly enjoy my company." you nudged his arm with your elbow, and his hand came to grip where you had touched. it felt.. weird. it was tingling.

why was his heart beating so fast?

"you would know if i enjoyed your company." he decided to say in response, forcing himself to look into your eyes. "how would i know?"

"i would be here of my own volition."

"looks like you are now." you shrugged.

"i already told you. i'm here because the allfather wants me to be. that's all there is to it." heimdall said, his gaze not leaving yours as he spoke.

the more time you spent around him, the less intimidating he became. he was like everyone else. minus the fact that he was a god.

you heard someone clear their throat from behind you, "your.. your food." their voice was quiet. another mortal from the kitchen.

"speak up." heimdall's voice rang out from beside you. they glanced between the two of you, and took in a shaky breath. "your food." they repeated, more confident in themselves this time. they extended the tray to you, and you thanked them before they left.

you looked over at him. did he do that because he wanted them to be more confident, or because he wanted to be mean? you couldn't tell. it's not like his tone was rude or condescending, but the way he naturally spoke could sound like that anyway.

he rested his chin on the palm of his hand, "eat. we have places to be."

"we?" you inquired, and he nodded. "we. the allfather wishes for us to go together. again."

"because that went so great last time?" you said to yourself. "it would've been better if you deciphered it correctly the first time." he replied. "oh, yeah? and you can do better?" you leaned closer to him, your eyes meeting his through your eyelashes.

his face flushed. you were.. stunning. he hadn't seen you this close. to anyone else, it looked as though you were attempting to kiss him. you could hear a few soft cheers from across the mess hall, and he stared at your lips.

you watched his eyes flicker between your eyes and your lips, and you chuckled.

"you falling for me, pretty boy?" your voice lowered into a whisper, and with his heightened hearing it sounded as though you were talking right into his ear. he let out a shaky exhale, and watched as you licked your lips.

he sat his hands on your waist, and pulled you closer.

"in your dreams."

your lips were only a few centimeters away, and you found yourself almost wanting to kiss him. what was that? you laughed at his words, "i think i should be the one saying that to you." you muttered.

"a giant and the aesir's posterboy.. aw." you whispered to him, your tone taking on a sultry, teasing tone as you did so. you could feel his grip on you tighten.

what was he doing— letting you toy with him like this in public? was he liking this?

did he like you?

the thought sent a pang through his chest, and he swallowed. he couldn't. you were a giant, an enemy of himself and his people— and your father was the man who had killed baldur. he.. couldn't. he wouldn't feel that way about you.

but..

he felt a tug on his heartstrings as he looked at you. your gaze was so soft as you stared into his eyes. they were beautiful. he looked at your lips again, then back at your eyes.

"i don't like you." he said, not sure if he was talking to you or to himself.

"keep telling yourself that." you teased.

you pulled yourself away from him, and he almost missed the feeling of your hips in his hands.

why had you shared such an intimate moment like that? why were you teasing him so much?

did he actually like you in that way?

he fell silent after you left his touch, deciding that saying nothing was better than embarrassing himself further. why were you so good at flirting with him? was that was that was? were you flirting? he shut his eyes. what was wrong with him?

you watched as he seemed to have an internal debate, and you almost felt bad for causing it. you could only wonder what he was thinking.

it was probably for the best, anyway.

you lifted your fork, finally beginning to eat your meal.

it was hot, after all.

tags: @graciegizmo3184 @anzanishira @chocokaylarobin @uncoveredsun @caelestis-lyrae @prio-motu @bluehorizon987 @freyrees @ieatmarbles @rohansregret @konigd1cks0ck @smilesdarling @multifand0m-gal0re @huan-chan @rustypotatospork | join my taglist!

#god of war #gow #god of war x reader #gow x reader #god of war heimdall x reader #heimdall gow #gow heimdall x reader #heimdall gow x reader #heimdall x reader

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skyholly · 5 months ago

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The best kept secret

Summary: What if Moiraine had a baby daughter she and Siuan were forced to leave to Anvaere to raise as her own?

moiraine/siuan

Chapter 1 here!

Chapter 2 here!

Chapter 3 here!

Chapter 4 here!

Chapter 5 here!

Chapter 6 here!

Chapter 7 here!

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Chapter 8. Guinevere

With a simple blow of her lips, Lanfear sent them flying through the portal, and Guinevere instantly felt the warmth and powdery feeling of the sea engulfing her. She let herself immerse in it, calmness washing over her. Water had always had that effect on her, ever since she could remember. ‘My little guppy’, her father used to call her, she remembered with fondness, before the memory turned blue. Torvin isn’t your father.

And Moiraine is my mother , Guinevere thought, closing her eyes under the water, salt prickling her lips. I should’ve realised before . Her mother’s… Anvaere’s —she had to correct herself— reluctance to talk about Moiraine, her uncanny resemblance to the woman, her dreams as of late … It all was so obvious, so plain to the eye. She felt so stupid, so deceived. How did I miss it? How didn’t I realise? Why was it kept away from me? How did so many adults consent to it? Why do I feel so sad? Why do I feel relieved? Why do I feel so resentful? How could Moiraine care so little for me? How could she not wish to see me at least once? Why didn’t she care? Why does she still not care—? Her thoughts became overwhelmed by a piercing pain in her head, as if hammers were banging on it, as her lungs suffocated in water. She was drowning . She briskly opened her eyes, salt burning on them, as her arms desperately reached for the surface, when a strong hold grabbed her from her armpits and hastily pulled her out of the water. Guinevere took deep, desperate breaths, coughing water away from her lungs.

“Burn me!” Lan complained, water up to his chest, as he carried her to the shore. “Haven’t you been taught how to swim?”

Guinevere was so dumbfounded by the question, she hesitated for a moment before answering, staring at the man with an irritated look on her face. “Of course I know how to swim,” she scoffed, as he placed her on the ground, her feet warming up at being slightly buried in the hot sand, “I was just… thinking.”

“On how drowning would make for a fitting end?” The man mocked her, making sure her stance was steady before letting her go.

Guinevere creased her eyes in astonishment. “Aren’t you supposed to be the quiet one? The brooding one?” She silently remarked, annoyed, crossing her arms against the wet fabric over her chest. Guinevere glanced around and saw nothing but water and sand. They were in a desert that stretched to the ocean’s shore. This isn’t Falme, she realised, anxiously snapping her head around. How did we end up here? Her mind was a blur of memories, and she was confused for a second, before all the recent events came rushing back to her.

Lanfear almost killing her felt like a dream, something unreal, but the tightness of the silver linings pressing against her skin proved otherwise.

She’d also attacked the Amyrlin, and Guinevere had tried to help her, before Lanfear furiously dragged her into the Ways.

Guinevere was enraged at the woman. She curious about why she hated her so much. Moiraine was curious about her dreams.

Lanfear opened the portal to Falme.

Lanfear thrusted into her brain, her mind drowning in painful realisations. She admitted them three being important, that they all had a role to play still in Falme.

Lanfear sent them flying through the portal.

But they weren’t in Falme.

What is Lanfear planning?

Guinevere kept on looking around, when her eyes stumbled upon her aunt Moiraine — your mother, Moiraine — away from the shore, studying their location. “Where are we?” She asked the Warder.

“I don’t know,” Lan confessed, “but we better follow her.” He said, pointing towards the Aes Sedai. Guinevere glared at the older woman, feeling her skin burning with all fury and rage and resentment and sadness and curiosity bottled up on her.

“Guinevere—” Moiraine whispered, raising her hands in surrender, with a tiresome look on her face, at the sight of the girl marching towards her with menacing steps.

“Why?” The girl asked dryly, stilling in front of her, biting her lips to prevent tears falling from her eyes. Every breath felt like stale air as she waited for Moiraine’s response. “Why?”

“Guinevere…” The older woman sighed, shaking her head, “you were never supposed to—”

“Why?!” She insisted, forcing the older woman into a guarded position.

“I-I-I had a mission,” Moiraine stuttered, her eyebrows frowned in trepidation, “a duty towards the—”

“Why?!” The young girl’s whimpers interrupted her. “Mother or aunt, it makes no difference, why did you ignore me all those years? Why did you never look for me at the White Tower? I was right there.”

Moiraine pursed her lips into a thin, harrowing line; her eyes creased with grief, “Guinevere, is not that easy to explain—”

“Did you ever stop to think about how neglected I would feel? How alone? How I’d grown up hearing Barthanes’ stories about our impossibly funny, caring, exceptional aunt only to find out she was anything but that?!” Guinevere sobbed, her words pouring out of her mouth in a torrent of anger. “At first I had made peace with the fact that you simply remained permanently away from the Tower but to learn that you actually visited it regularly and you couldn’t look for me even once —”

“It was too hard, Guinevere!” Moiraine barked, anger seething through her teeth. “Getting close to you would’ve endangered the whole mission, which is the reason I left you with your aunt in the first place!” She kept on screaming, but she immediately regretted speaking to her in such a harsh voice. Moiraine tried to approach her, taking gentle steps towards her, arms reaching for the girl’s hand, but Guinevere backed away, roughly brushing the bitter tears away from her cheeks, leaving an almost invisible trail of sand over her face.

“Where are we anyway?” She sniffed her crying away, crossing her arms over her chest in an indifferent motion, studying her surroundings. “Do you even know where Falme is?”

The older woman stared at her feet, and shook her head, before raising her gaze towards her, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “Guinevere—” Moiraine insisted again, reaching for her.

The young girl sharply pushed the woman’s arm away, and took a few steps back, maintaining the distance between them. “I don’t want to talk about it, alright?” She snapped, overwhelmed. “It’s… I’m… I’m just…I-I-I need some time. To think, alright?” She looked at Moiraine, and gazed into her eyes, as blue as the midnight sky , before the older woman nodded. Guinevere mimicked her gesture, pursing her lips in discomfort. “Do you know where Falme is? We need to get to Rand.” She urged her.

“It’s that way,” Moiraine replied, gulping as she pointed toward what appeared to Guinevere to be an endless desert. Despite her doubts, Moiraine’s confidence made it hard for Guinevere not to believe she knew what she was doing.

“Alright, then.” Guinevere bit her lip, casting a final glance at Moiraine before resolutely heading in the direction Moiraine had indicated. She walked in haste, eager to make some space between her and the pair. Guinevere could feel the sand shifting beneath her feet, water tickling her ankles, the sun beating down on them mercilessly.

Her mind was a storm of emotions. She almost wished Lanfear had stayed quiet, that she could remain oblivious to the truth. Knowing her aunt didn’t care for her was one thing, but realising her own mother had refused to acknowledge her existence for so many years… That the only reason Moiraine had reentered her life was because of the Dragon Reborn. The sting of that revelation cut deep.

Guinevere tried to empathise with Moiraine’s situation. It couldn’t have been an easy choice to leave her behind. At least, she hoped it hadn’t been. But bitterness and anger furiously overpowered any sentiment of sympathy she might have felt. She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms as she came to a halt, and closed her eyes, feeling the water at her feet, letting it wash some of her anger away.

Moiraine did what she thought was best. She made sure you grew up in a loving family. She had a difficult choice to make, and did what best she could. She assured herself. But was it even? The sneaky thought creeped into her mind. A difficult choice? Guinevere snapped her eyes open, the sun blinding her for an instant. She couldn’t make sense of her own emotions. She wanted to slap and punch and hurt her for neglecting her all those years. She stood in awe of her, for remaining so dutiful. She resented the fact she’d considered the mission more important than her. She hated that she couldn’t help but love the woman nonetheless.

She turned around, and saw the pair less than half a mile behind, almost embracing each other, a silver weave of the One Power circling them. They’re bonding again , Guinevere realised in astonishment. She wasn’t jealous of their bond; rather, she felt a deep curiosity for a connection she had never known. She’d never taken on a Warder, as she didn’t want to have a man following her around all day, and besides, most Yellow Sisters didn’t take on Warders, as they weren’t really needed. But she’d always been intrigued on what it felt like. For nineteen years, Lan had been Moiraine’s Warder. Guinevere wondered what that meant for her. Was he there the day she was born? Was he even her Warder at that time? She shook her head in frustration. They needed to get to Rand. She focused her sight on the front once more, and began walking one again.

Ahead, the desert stretched out endlessly, the horizon wavering in the heat. Guinevere’s thoughts were so consumed that she barely noticed when Lan caught up to her.

“Slow down,” he urged gently, his tone softer than before. “We need to stay together.”

She glanced at him, her expression hard, and then sighed, her shoulders sagging. He was right, of course. As much as she wanted to run away from Moiraine, she knew she couldn’t afford to be reckless. Not now.

“Fine,” she muttered, slowing her pace but not stopping. “But I’m not ready to talk to her.”

Lan nodded, understanding in his eyes. “Take your time. Just don’t wander off.”

As they continued, the terrain began to change subtly. The sand became firmer, as mountains started to rise by their path. After a while, Moiraine caught up, maintaining a respectful distance behind Guinevere. The silence between them was heavy, laden with unspoken words and unresolved emotions.

As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the dunes, Lan suggested they make camp for the night. He built a small fire, the flames flickering against the encroaching darkness. “Sit by the fire,” he instructed the two women, “I’ll check the area for any danger.”

Before he left, Lan removed his own cape and gently draped it over Guinevere’s shoulders. “Stay warm,” he said quietly, his eyes full of concern. Then he turned and disappeared into the darkness of the desert, leaving Guinevere and Moiraine to share the warmth of the fire.

The two exchanged furtive glances, the silence growing increasingly uncomfortable, until Guinevere finally broke it. “I don’t think I’m angry, you know.” She said, in a small voice, avoiding looking at Moiraine. “Upset, yes, but not angry.”

“Are you sure?” The woman asked, searching for her eyes. “You’d have every right to—”

“I understand,” Guinevere interrupted her, restless, eager to get this matter over with, “at least I think I do. I would’ve been angrier,” she confessed, “if I believed it was a matter of convenience, but I know now it wasn’t. Or that I hope, at least. You had a mission, far more important than raising a child… You did what you had to do, and I understand that.”

“Are you sure?” Moiraine insisted, taking her hands, and this time Guinevere didn’t resist her touch. “You can be angry at me, Guinevere. Light knows I… you can ask me questions, if you’d like to.”

Guinevere hesitated, her lips parting and closing as she struggled to find the right words, if there even was such a thing. “I don’t think that’s for the best,” the girl finally said, staring into her eyes, “in fact I wish for things to remain as they are… o-or were. I must admit I am… shocked by this, but it doesn’t change anything for me, not really. I have a loving mother, have— had a loving father, and a happy family and childhood. And I guess I have you to thank for that as well. That you made sure of that.”

Moiraine squeezed her daughter’s hands, as she pursed her lips, and slowly nodded, fighting back tears. She seemed hurt by her statement, as if she were expecting more of the girl, but Guinevere couldn’t make sense of her emotions. “You’re very compassionate, Guinevere,” Moiraine blubbered, “and I can’t claim that’s a trait you got from me.”

Guinevere abruptly snapped her head towards Moiraine, her cheeks reddening not from the fire’s heat but from embarrassment, action that didn’t go unnoticed by the older woman. “What is it?” Moiraine asked, encouraging her to share what was on her mind.

Guinevere’s blush deepened, unsure of how to phrase her question. “It’s just…” she began, fidgeting and picking at her nails, “I’ve been wondering… w-what about my father?” Her voice trembled with apprehension.

Contrary to her fears, Moiraine’s eyes softened at the mention of the man. “He was very compassionate too,” she said, a wistful smile tugging at her lips, “and he had a talent for music. A talent you share as well, I’ve been told.”

Guinevere hesitated, already dreading the answer to her next question. “Had?” She whispered softly.

The older woman inhaled. “He’s been gone for a long time now.” Moiraine confessed, gulping.

Guinevere nodded, guilty about not feeling sad. She had had a father, Torvin, and she had mourned him as such, but this man… her biological father, he wasn’t anything to her. Should I feel sad? I don’t feel sad about him dying, I only wish I could’ve known him. “How?”

Moiraine pursed her lips into a sad grin. “I wouldn’t know.”

Guinevere only hummed in response, as she noticed Moiraine straightening her posture, and sensed her heart start beating at a faster pace. “There’s something else you ought to know, Guinevere,” Moiraine said, gathering courage, “since we’re already on the matters of fathers and parents and… well, now that you’ve found out that… well, that you’ve found out the truth…”

“That you’re my mother.” Guinevere finished for her, staring deeply into her eyes. Moiraine gulped, swallowing a sob. “Yes, well, now that you know—”

“What is it?” The girl urged her, gently.

Moiraine took a deep breath, steadying herself. “I had a partner,” she began, her voice trembling slightly, “not- not your father, he was just—”

“It’s the Amyrlin, isn’t it?” Guinevere interrupted her, with the ghost of a mischievous grin on her face.

Moiraine’s eyes widened in shock, as Guinevere shrugged her shoulders. “It wasn’t that hard to figure out,” she explained, “I was in the Sun Castle and in the Waygate with you both.”

“Alright,” Moiraine nodded, awkwardly processing the information, “well you should know, Siuan was my partner while… while I was pregnant with you.”

“Oh.” Guinevere didn't exactly understand the dynamic between the three, but she felt she would be stepping over the line if she asked about it.

“And she is your mother as well, or at least she—I mean we both, regarded you as our daughter at one point. She cares for you in ways she has not been allowed to demonstrate. I just thought you should know.”

Guinevere nodded. “Alright…” she whispered, indecisive.

“What is it?” Moiraine asked the girl, gently grabbing her shoulder, noting her apprehension.

“Nothing, it’s just… What do you mean by ‘at one point’?”

“Oh.”

“Hm.”

Moiraine turned her head, her eyes staring deeply into the fire. “I meant that at one point we did consider raising you, before the prophecy came down on us and we had to choose otherwise.”

“So you were happy?” She asked, unsurem her heartbeat starting to race on her chest. “About me?”

“Of course we were!” Moiraine exclaimed, turning towards her, embracing her hands. “We both were excited and longing for you, you shouldn’t doubt that, not now or ever.”

It was Guinevere’s turn to swallow a sob. “Alright,” she whimpered, “thank you.”

“Oh, Winnie…” Moiraine whispered, placing a hand on the girl’s face, tenderly brushing her cheek, when they became startled by a figure walking towards them.

The two of them stood up in alert, Moiraine reaching for the One Power and Guinevere for the knife against her thigh, until their shoulders dropped in relief, realising it was just Lan returning from his rounds.

“Everything alright?” Moiraine asked him, sitting down once again.

“Everything seems… quiet. I’ll remain awake, you two have some rest.”

“Alright.” The two women conceded, laying down against the sand, using their capes as covers. The last thing Guinevere noticed before falling asleep were Moiraine’s soft caresses on her hand.

Guinevere abruptly woke up, with a scream stuck down her throat, her agitated chest rising up and down at an uneven pace. Lan was already by her side before she could notice, putting the cape over her shoulders once again, shielding her from the bitter wind, asking her if she was alright.

“I-I am—”

“Guinevere?” Moiraine asked, worry creasing her brows as she pulled her into a reassuring embrace. “Was it Lanfear? Did she hurt you?”

“N-No,” the girl muttered, her voice softening as she leaned into Moiraine’s comforting presence, “it was just a nightmare, that’s all.”

Guinevere felt Moiraine sigh in relief before gently holding her by the shoulders, guiding her to a distance where they could meet eye to eye. “Guinevere…” the woman began, her voice shaky, “I need you to tell me about your dreams.”

A blush spread across the young girl’s cheeks. “Why?”

“That does not matter, what are these dreams about?” Moiraine insisted.

Guinevere cautiously stared at the woman, frustrated by her reluctance to share information. “Does this have anything to do with Lanfear calling me Ilyena?”

Moiraine warily hummed in response.

“Who was she?”

Moiraine took a deep, quivery breath. “Ilyena Therin Moerelle. She was the wife of Lews Therin Telamon. Brutally murdered by him after he’d made her watch their children die, as the madness had already taken over him.”

Ilyena Therin Moerelle. She was the wife of Lews Therin Telamon. Brutally murdered by him after he’d made her watch their children die, as the madness had already taken over him , the words resonated in Guinevere’s mind.

She was the wife of Lews Therin Telamon. Brutally murdered by him after he’d made her watch their children die, as the madness had already taken over him.

Brutally murdered by him after he’d made her watch their children die.

Those words felt like nails being viciously hammered into her brain. Guinevere widened her eyes in panic, her breathing growing ragged, as realisation fell upon her.

“G-Guinevere,” Moiraine stuttered, “what is it?”

“M-My dreams…” the girl stammered, “they’ve always been the same. Three little children — my children, somehow— dying in front of me, and I can’t do anything about that. There’s always a man… A man I could never recognise, but ever since I met Rand… It’s like I know it’s him, despite them looking nothing alike.”

Moiraine closed her eyes in resignation, her head tilting the slightest, as she subtly let an exhale out, her face tensing with frustration.

“W-What is it?” Guinevere asked fearfully, studying the fleeting glances exchanged between Moiraine and her Warder.

“Nothing I would like you to worry about.” Moiraine replied, though her voice betrayed a hint of unease.

Guinevere’s heart pounded in her chest. “You don’t get to keep secrets from me anymore, Moiraine,” she taunted, her voice tinged with defiance.

Moiraine’s eyes flickered with a mix of frustration and resignation. “Guinevere, some truths are burdensome. I only wish to protect you.”

“Tell me.” The girl insisted.

Moiraine clenched her jaw, her gaze steely. “I won’t.”

“Tell. Me.”

“No.” Moiraine snapped, losing her patience, turning her face away from her.

Guinevere’s face flushed with anger, as she took the older woman by the shoulders, forcing her to face her. “What do my dreams mean?”

“They mean that Lanfear’s assumptions are correct,” Moiraine barked, eyes furrowing with sorrow, “you are the reincarnation of Ilyena, just as Rand is the Lews Therin Telamon reborn. Your dreams aren’t nightmares, Guinevere, they’re memories.”

Guinevere shut her eyes, as she recalled her dreams, the children's screams slicing through her mind like shards of glass. The haunting images of their small, fragile bodies, lifeless and cold, burned behind her eyelids. Each cry echoed in her soul, tearing at her heart, the agony almost too much to bear. She felt the overwhelming weight of helplessness and grief, a visceral pain that twisted her insides and left her gasping for breath. The horror of their deaths was seared into her consciousness, an unrelenting nightmare that refused to fade.

In that moment, a terrifying clarity washed over her. “I ought to stay away from Rand, then.” She exhaled, opening her eyes, which were brimming with tears.

Moiraine reached for her, and softly rubbed her thumb against the girl’s cheek. “I don’t think the Wheel will give you such a choice.” She said, sorrowfully. “But there’s still time, the Pattern is not yet weaved, do not fright. Rest, for now. I’ll make sure no nightdreams haunt you the rest of the night.”

Guinevere wasn’t sure on how Moiraine could achieve such a thing, but she didn’t comment on it. “Thank you.” She whispered, leaning into Moiraine’s touch. It feels nice. It feels right.

Guinevere laid down on the sand, and closed her eyes, immediately falling asleep, and nothing but darkness visited her afterwards.

Lan woke her up at the crack of dawn, softly brushing on her shoulders. Guinevere sighed, feeling warm and rested, and opened her eyes to discover she was huddled against Moiraine. The woman’s presence beside her brought a rush of conflicting emotions; gratitude for Moiraine’s help, confusion over the night’s events, and an inexplicable sense of closeness that both comforted and unsettled her. Anvaere is your mother.

“Good morning, Guinevere,” Lan said quietly, his voice breaking the momentary silence. His eyes held a mix of concern and something else she couldn’t quite decipher.

“Good morning, Lan,” Guinevere replied, her voice hoarse from sleep. She shifted slightly, trying not to disturb Moiraine, who still slept peacefully beside her.

Lan handed her a waterskin and a piece of dried fruit. “Eat and drink. We need to move soon. I’ll let Moiraine rest some more; she needs it.”

Nodding in acknowledgment, Guinevere accepted the provisions and took a few sips of water. Once the sun sat higher on the sky, the man woke the Aes Sedai up, and they set off towards Falme once again.

Moiraine led the group, and Guinevere closely followed her steps, finding herself growing more at ease with the woman’s presence. She isn’t so bad , she thought. It would take her some time to get over her resentment, but maybe one day they’d be able to discuss things further, with more clarity. Her contemplations were interrupted as Lan hurried to join them.

“You’re faster than you used to be.” He teased Moiraine, and Guinevere could see a hint of a smile on the woman’s face.

“Feels like I’m running without buckets on my back.” She joked back. Guinevere didn’t understand what she meant by that. Moiraine remained quiet for a moment, before turning her head towards the man, not slowing down. “You’re thinking about Lanfear.”

The man nodded. “I still don’t understand why he only woke her.” Lan explained.

“They’re too dangerous, I think, the others,” Moiraine explained. “The Forsaken fought amongst themselves as much as they fought the Dragon. But everything I found out said that Lanfear, Lews Therin, and Ishamael were inseparable before the War of Power…” Her voice trailed off as she caught sight of something ahead that left her momentarily stunned. Guinevere followed her gaze and spotted it in the distance: Toman Head.

“I think I know where we are,” the older woman said, her tone weighted with realisation. “Lanfear planned this.”

“ ‘ Above the Watchers shall the Dragon be proclaimed… ” Guinevere whispered, “ bannered ‘cross the sky in fire .’ That’s what Verin Sedai said. Lanfear wants you to raise the banner, she said so herself. She said we all had a role to play still.” Guinevere resolved. Moiraine nodded slowly, her expression grave with the weight of worry. “But what role do I have to play in all of this?” The girl asked.

Moiraine pursed her lips in concern. “I don’t know.” She replied, troubled.

They continued walking at a haste, Lan scanning their surroundings with a worried furrow in his brow, until they were mere miles from the Tower. Moiraine sighed, her gaze sweeping the area, freezing in place as her eyes stumbled upon a dozen boats lined along the coast right beside the Tower. Guinevere followed the trail of her gaze, and noticed silver lining flowing through the boats, towards the top of the Tower, and froze in her place as well, as she exchanged a worried look with Moiraine.

“Keep moving,” Lan urged them, apprehensive, “there’s watchers on these cliffs. What is it?”

“Shielding.” Moiraine and Guinevere said in unison.

“Are there weaves?” Lan asked.

“I think it’s Rand they’re shielding.” Moiraine deciphered, carefully studying the threads.

Suddenly, Guinevere felt a searing pain in her abdomen, so intense that it nearly brought her to her knees. She grunted, clutching her side.

“What is it?” Moiraine asked, her voice filled with concern.

“I-I don’t know,” the girl confessed, her mind rushing into a thousand different conclusions, “but I think… I think Rand has been hurt. I know he’s been hurt,” she corrected herself, “I don’t know how, I just know it.”

Moiraine glanced at Guinevere, then at the boats, exchanging a meaningful look with Lan that left Guinevere feeling perplexed. What are they thinking? What are they planning?

“Why?” The man asked. “You don’t know who they are. What if Lanfear put us here for you to do this? What if those ships are full of innocent people? What if it’s not Rand?” Guinevere’s eyes widened in shock. Moiraine is planning to sink those boats.

“I will let a thousand innocent people die if there’s even a chance that he will live.” Moiraine snapped. “That is what it means to support him, do you understand that?” Lan remained unsure, but Guinevere positioned herself behind Moiraine, with a fierce look on her face, letting it be clear she supported the woman’s intentions. It went completely against everything she’d been taught as a Healer, but she knew there was no other option, as the pain in her gut became more and more intense. Rand’s dying, he thought, desperation creeping down her stomach.

Suddenly, shouts erupted from behind them, and they turned to see several men on horseback galloping towards them. Guinevere froze at the sight of the horses, as realisation fell upon her.

“I need one of those horses,” Guinevere abruptly declared, “I need to get to Rand. I know he’s hurt, I can heal him. And we need to remove the shield from him. This is why Lanfear put us here. Mo-Moiraine, you can attack those boats from here.” She said, turning around, but someone’s grip on her arm didn’t allow her to go away. Moiraine’s.

“Winnie…” The woman whispered.

“I’ll be alright,” the girl assured her, “I know what I’m doing. And besides, you said it yourself. This is what it means to support him.”

Moiraine nodded, but was still reluctant to let her go, which left Guinevere with no other choice but to use a certain Talent of hers. She grasped Moiraine’s arms, feeling the One Power's warmth course through her veins, and saw the recognition in the woman’s eyes—she understood but did not resist. “It will make things easier, the mission is what matters most now.” Guinevere explained. Moiraine hesitated for a moment, before easing into the girl’s Talent.

An excruciatingly long second passed, before Moiraine drew her hands away, straightening her posture, exchanging a meaningful look with Lan. And before Guinevere could even realise, Moiraine was weaving threads of golden weaves and Lan was fighting the approaching soldiers with a precision and determination the girl didn’t even believe possible. Guinevere herself took some of them down, using one of her Talents, which secured her a horse. She swiftly mounted it, and rode towards the Tower.

She jumped its steps two at a time, until she reached the top, where she stood for a moment in shock. Rand was just by the stairs, laying hurt on the floor, over the arms of a long-limbed, wiry boy with brown eyes, while Egwene was pulling on a dangerous amount of the One Power to protect him from a man’s attack. Ishamael , Guinevere realised, in terror. The man looked at her, recognition flickering in his eyes.

She allowed herself one more glance at the man, before running towards the redheaded boy. “Rand!” She whimpered, falling onto the ground next to him, her knees scratching on the process, desperately reaching for his abdomen.

“Gwen,” he exhaled, his mouth curling into a sweet smile as her name left his lips, his eyebrows knitting in confusion. “W-What are you doing here? How did you get here? I thought Lanfear…”

Guinevere hushed him, as she had no intention of paying any mind to his words, as healing him was her role. She was staring in distress at his wound, on the side of his abdomen, exactly where she had felt the piercing pain. Guinevere’s breath got caught up on her throat at the realisation that it’d been performed by a dark weapon. That’s alright, you can handle this, she tried calming herself. She closed her eyes, seeking for the flame and the void, steading her breath and her heartbeat, as she pulled on golden weaves that quickly started to heal the darkened injury. She opened her eyes moments later, to find Rand’s wound cured, for the most of it at least, and more people surrounding them. A tall man carrying a big axe, who she recognised as Perrin, the boy that she had healed at Tár Valon, and two more women she didn’t know. A dark haired one and a red haired one. The woman with dark hair had her hair braided over her shoulder, and was wearing the clothes and makeup of a sul’dam. Guinevere couldn’t puzzle out why everyone was so calm at the thought of such a vicious woman being by their side, but she didn’t have time to dwell on it.

Rand remained in shock, brushing over his healed injury, as Egwene’s agonising screams reached them. Guinevere took a better look at her, and had to prevent a sob from leaving her lips at noticing her ragged clothing, how scrawny she looked, how pale and fragile. She’s been forced into becoming a damane at one point , she realised, in dismay, fury starting to make her blood boil.

“Rand, Rand,” the boy who was holding him urged him, grasping how Egwene was growing weaker by the second, “you’re gonna have to do something.”

“I-I can’t,” the redheaded boy whispered, agitated, “I’m shielded.”

Come on, Moiraine , Guinevere urged her in her thoughts, as tears threatened to fall through her cheeks, we need you… I need you now, mother.

**********

Author's Note: Alright, only one chapter left! It'll probably be published next week. I must say, I wrote this in a haste and it has NOT been proofread at all, and english is not my first language, so please please comment on any incoherences. There's only one chapter left, before an epilogue, which I'll probably take a long time to publish since I will use the time bewteen the last chapter and the epilogue to do some HEAVY editing, but that will have to be after finals. Again, I hope the decline in comments it's not due to the story being a dissapointment, and if it is, please tell me what you wished would've happened different, or in which direction you would've liked the fic to go to. Thanks for reading and commenting, I appreciate it a lot, and I hope you enjoy this rather messy chapter!

Chapter 9 here!

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cricketandbooks · 6 months ago

Text

THE HEART — Dead Boy Detectives

Niko Sasaki: grieving, isolated, fearful, charming, intelligent, the bringer of love and hope

THE EYES — Crystal's Playlist THE BRAINS — Edwin's Playlist THE BRAWN — Charles' Playlist

This is my playlist for Niko Sasaki that chronicles her life, and her death. I hope you like it! Just as a disclaimer, I'm not a native Jappanese speaker, so I did my best when it comes to translations. That being said, I am sure there are mistakes, so don't be afraid to correct me. I have included where I got my lyrics so that you can take a look yourself!

Annotations for the songs on the playlist under the cut:

Tracks 1-5: Unrequited

Track 1: Wake Me Up When September Ends by Green Day (Music Box Version)

This song discusses Billie Joel Armstrong's grief over his father's passing when he was 10. The title references what he said to his mother after the funeral. It discusses the death of innocence, and it appeared that Niko was incredible innocent before the death of her father. The song has a melancholy feeling to it, even in music box form. Music boxes are associated with children, and the death of her father and leaving home forced Niko to grow up too fast. While I chose the music box version in part because I felt it matched the feeling Niko gives more than the original, it is also because even though she is feeling grief, she cannot verbalize it to anyone until she meets Crystal. She cannot verbalize it to her mother because of her fear of disappointing and lying to her, and she cannot vocalize it to her classmates due to the sprites. Thus, her feelings are trapped within her, like a music box traps the music in itself.

Track 2: Ue o Muite Arukō/Sukiyaki by Kyu Sakamoto

This is a song by Kyu Sakamoto, discussing a man who whistles and looks up as he walks to hide his tears and sadness. To me, it represents her mother sending her away in an effort to fix her daughter's sadness, but that only succeeded in isolating her grieving daughter. This song sounds upbeat, but the lyrics give away its mournful nature. Here is the translation I used.

"Ue o muite arukou (I look up when I walk) Namida ga koborenai youni (So that the tears won't fall) Omoidasu haru no hi (Remembering those spring days) Hitoribocchi no yoru (But I am all alone tonight)"

These lyrics represent that while Niko agrees to go on this journey to boarding school, she is still deeply traumatized by her father's death. The sadness and memories follow her, and make her feel more alone than ever.

"Kanashimi wa hoshi no kage ni (Sadness lies in the shadow of the stars) Kanashimi wa tsuki no kage ni (Sadness lurks in the shadow of the moon) Ue o muite arukou (I look up as I walk) Namida ga koborenai youni (So that the tears won't fall) Nakinagara aruku (Though the tears well up as I walk) Hitoribocchi no yoru (For tonight I am all alone) (Whistling)"

There are a lot of references to nature such as the different seasons, the moon and shadows. This demonstrates the all encompassing nature of her grief, as she sees it everywhere she is. It also seems like her father was connected to nature, based on his dandelion advice for courage. As Niko goes to America, she is more alone and sad than ever despite her cheerful demeanor.

Track 3: Runaway by Aurora

Niko developed a fear of death and danger after her father's passing, and this fear kept her from truly feeling at home in the world.

"I was listenin' to the ocean I saw a face in the sand But when I picked it up Then it vanished away from my hands, dah"

This lyric could represent Niko's feeling that life is fragile and precious. It could vanish in an instant and for no reason despite its inevitability, like a wave crashing into the sand.

"And I was runnin' far away Would I run off the world someday? Nobody knows, nobody knows And I was dancing in the rain I felt alive and I can't complain But no, take me home Take me home where I belong I can't take it anymore"

Leaving Osaka and running away was thought to be able to help her, but instead made her feel more fearful. Even though this change gave her the energy to gather up courage, what she truly wanted was to feel at home in the world again. The fear and the grief was agony to her, but Osaka was no longer a place she could feel safe in as she did not feel supported by her mother.

"I was painting a picture The picture was a painting of you And for a moment I thought you were here But then again, it wasn't true, dah And all this time I have been lyin' Oh, lyin' in secret to myself I've been putting sorrow on the farthest place on my shelf La-di-da"

She holds on to the memories of her father and who she used to be when he was still alive, but instead of it being to keep his memory alive it was due to loneliness. Using his memory as a sort of self harm, she sought to alleviate the pain by putting her best foot forward and leaving Osaka even though she knew it was futile.

"But I kept runnin' for a soft place to fall And I kept runnin' for a soft place to fall And I kept runnin' for a soft place to fall And I kept runnin' for a soft place to fall And I was runnin' far away Would I run off the world someday?"

This represents her fears of never being able to find a place or opportunity to grieve, as she knows running from her issues will only cause more issues. She craves company and acceptance so that she can fall into grief and begin to heal.

Track 4: Landscape With a Fairy by aspidistrafly

This song represents the moment Niko goes to get her dandelion and gets infected by the dandelion sprites.

"Dyed in daybreak's light Sound asleep, curled Blue bird's first flight Silent world"

At first Niko finds peace in nature as she searchers for a dandelion. Her guard is down and she doesn't see the warnings.

"Burnished by Autumn Trees hued in crimson Yet the days darken Now you've gone away"

Lost in her sadness, she can't truly see the world around her, keeping her mind narrow and focused on trying to find something to make her feel closer to her father and to feel better. If she wasn't so lost in her mind, she may have noticed the shrine before it was too late. Red also sometimes indicates danger when found in nature, this to me symbolizes that her grief was what put her in danger.

"Waking from a dream The sun floods her eyes To unravel such a scene Of scarlet splendor"

The sprites take Niko and imbue her with a dazzling light, however this proves to be a further tragedy. Their splendor drowns out her despondency and struggle behind their parasitic need for attention without true connection. As stated in the previous verse, scarlet or red also typically indicate danger when found in nature, further demonstrating the trouble she was in.

Track 5: Everything is Scary by German Error Message

Niko enters the unknown and was unprepared for the challenges she was about to face.

"Having held it in my open hands How did it feel then? Now having felt it Describe the way the sun hit A tree you saw when you were ten"

Having witnessed death with her own eyes, she is still stuck in her past. Her fear of losing in combination with her parasitic infection keep her from being able to express how she feels to people even though she desperately needs to. Memories fade over time, and she's afraid soon her father will become even hazier, like the memories you have as a child.

"I think of everything When I'm driving not knowing where I'm going Hearing dogs bark in your new neighborhood"

Niko becomes more and more lost in her thoughts, not being able to make the boarding school her home. Barking dogs can be scary when you're in an unfamiliar place, showing that she is off balance and lonely.

Tracks 6-11: Philia

Track 6: Anthems of a Seventeen Year Old Girl by Broken Social Scene

Despite Niko's quirkiness and surreal presence, she has this ability to keep the group grounded in reality and what really matters. The reality is that they are kids who are struggling to figure life/existence and love out. That they will make mistakes, even the same ones over and over again, but still the must forgive each other for it. This song also has a nostalgic aspect to it. Niko is emotionally intelligent, and knows that even though everyone is insisting that the situation and community are temporary, they will look back and miss this time in their life. The repetition of this song could represent the monotony of existence, but the song has a way of making it feel magical. Niko romanticizes life and tries to find the beauty in everything, even the act of dropping phones and parking cars.

Used to be one of the rotten ones and I liked you for that Now you're all gone, got your makeup on, and you're not coming back

However, this song is tinged with the fear of things coming to an end, symbolizing her fear of death and being alone again. She has a group of people that accept her despite her potentially off putting personality, and she's afraid that she will be left behind as people change. She knows she's not someone who conforms to society, and she doesn't want to abandoned because of that. This is a common fear for teenagers, but is is important to her in particular because she feels she doesn't have other people to turn to.

Track 7: Kokoro no Tomo/心の友 by Mayumi Itsuwa

As Niko allows herself to become close to the group, she begins to develop her own sense of courage and a community who loves her. Translations from here and here.

"Anata kara kurushimi wo Ubaeta sono toki (At the time you took away my suffering,) Watashi ni mo ikite yuku Yuuki ga waite kuru (That living courage starts to rise even in me.) Anata to deau made wa, Kodoku na sasurai-bito (Until I met you, I was a lonely wandering person) Sono te no nukumori wo kanji sasete (Let me feel the warmth of your hand.)"

In this song, she thanks the agency for alleviating her of her loneliness and fear. She felt no one understood or accepted her, but she was able to find solace and purpose with her friends. In particular she found solace in Edwin, who immediately liked her not just in in spite of her quirkiness but because of it. They go on to develop a close friendship, encouraging each other to overcome their respective fears of the past and of their future.

"Ai wa itsumo RARABAI (Love is always a lullaby,) (Tabi ni tsukareta toki) Whenever you feel tired from your journey, Tada kokoro no tomo to watashi wo yonde (Just call me, your friend of the heart)"

Niko was the friend that everybody talked to about their deepest fears, and was willing to listen to them even when they were tired. Her gentle and compassionate nature demonstrates her attitude that love is soft. She also felt understood by the other members, empowered to become part of the world again.

"Shinjiau koto sae dokoka ni wasurete (Why do people pursue happiness whose days have passed,) Hito wa naze Sugita hi no shiawase oikakeru (Forgetting especially the belief in one another somewhere? Shizuka ni mabuta tojite kokoro no doa wo hiraki (Close your eyes quietly and open the door to your heart.) Watashi wo tsukandara namida fuite (When you take a hold of me, wipe away your tears.)"

Realizing that she must make peace with death and the past, Niko holds on to hope that happiness and peace can be found elsewhere. Her friends provide her with that comfort as she starts to heal from her grief.

Track 8: Warrior by Aurora

As opposed to the last song by Aurora on this playlist, through her friendships, Niko was able to finally begin to return to the world and feel at home again.

"I can't recall last time I opened my eyes to see the world as beautiful And I built a cage to hide in I'm hiding, I'm trying to battle the night"

Niko's father seemed to be the person that showed Niko the beauty of the world, and when he died that beauty was lost. However, now that she is no longer alone, she isn't too afraid to once again open her eyes to the joy she once saw.

"Let love conquer your mind Warrior, warrior Just reach out for the light Warrior, warrior I am a warrior-ior-ior-ior Warrior, warrior I am a warrior-ior-ior-ior Warrior, warrior of love"

Niko was the friend group's champion of love, believing in it wholeheartedly even when the others had doubts. She was the one brave enough to talk about the truth and put herself out there, particularly for Edwin and Jenny. Despite her fearful nature, through love she is able to become a warrior.

"I stand behind the wall Of people and thoughts, mind controlling And I hold a sword to guide me I'm fighting my way"

Despite being constantly underestimated, Niko is a very intelligent and observant person. Being able to accurately observe others, she is able to do what the other characters are not in order to help them achieve happiness.

"Underneath darkened skies There's a light kept alive"

Despite all her work, I interpret a small part of her matchmaking and encouragement to a part of her that is doing this because she feels like if love does not work out, then life is not worth living. She also feels insecure at not having had a romantic relationship herself. However, she is still able to pull through and be the light in all of their lives despite any potential failings.

Track 9: Best Friend by Kana Nishino

As Crystal and the boys prepare to leave, Niko makes it clear to them that they are precious to her. In a group that doesn't always communicate the extent of their feelings to each other, it was so important that this is communicated.

"Arigatou (Thank you) (Kimi ga ite kurete hontou yokatta yo (I’m glad that you’re here) Donna toki datte itsumo waratte irareru (No matter the time, I can always smile) Tatoeba, hanareteite mo nannen tatte mo (No matter how many years pass) Zutto kawaranai deshou watashitachi Best Friend (While we’re away from each other nothing will have changed, we're Best Friends) Suki dayo… (I love you…) Daisuki da yo… (I really love you…)"

It is Niko that insists that the group is better and stronger together, even as they prepare to part. She is unashamed to insist on continued connection, becoming the glue that holds them all together.

"Konna osoi jikan ni gomen ne (I’m sorry for waiting so long to say this) Hitori ja seppatsumatte kita no (I was driven into a corner alone) Kimi no koe sukoshi kiketara (When I hear your faint voice) Ganbareru (I felt like I could make it) Nande mo uchi akerareru (I can tell you anything) Mama ni mo ienai koto mo zenbu (Even things I can’t tell my mom) Dare yori mo wakatte kureru (You understand better than anyone)"

Niko has found a community that makes her feel brave, both when it comes to putting herself in dangerous situations to protect her friends, but also to be honest to her mother. She is beginning to come out of her self imposed isolation.

"Sonna kimi ni watashi wa nanika shite agerareteru kana? (I wonder if there’s anything I can do for someone like you?) Nanika attara suguni tondeku kara, (When I figure it out I’ll race over to you,) Zettai (Absolutely)"

Sometimes Niko's plan to help fails dramatically, and she feels insecure about this. However that doesn't stop her resolve to help her friends no matter what. Her resilience in the face of her mistakes is part of what makes her so strong, and a force of hope for the group.

Track 10: Fuyunohanashi/冬のはなし on Given performed by Shōgo Yano and Centimillimental

This song, while about someone's partner who committed suicide, to me it also accurately describes Niko's search for closure after the death of her father. After becoming friends with the detectives and Crystal, she is able to be closer to accepting her father's death and overcoming her fear of it. Translations from here and here.

"Mada toke kirezu ni nokotta (Just like the shade of snow) Hikage no yuki mitai na (That hasn't completely melted) Omoi wo daite ikiteru (I carry on with these feelings inside me) Nee, boku wa kono koi wo (Hey, with what words) Donna kotoba de tojitara ii no (Should I close the door of this love?)"

Niko struggled and suffered greatly on her search for closure, almost giving up on love entirely. She even threw away all of her Boy's Love paraphernalia when her efforts to overcome this lack of closure was thwarted. While she was trying to prove to herself that love was worth the sadness via external sources, she had yet to fully turn inward and reflect.

"Mada tokenai mahou no youna (Just like a spell that's still unbroken) Soretomo noroi no youna (Or maybe it's some kind of curse) Omoi nimotsu wo kakaeteru (I'm still holding on to my thoughts) Nee, boku wa kono machi de (Hey, what kind of tomorrow) Donna ashita wo sagaseba ii no (Should I look for in this town?)"

Despite all of her triumphs, such as overcoming the sprites, there's still lingering sadness in her. She still hasn't written her mother, holding on to her thoughts of sadness and potential resentment. Now that she has friends, she is able begin to process what she wants out of remaining in Port Townsend.

"Anata no subete ga katachi wo nakushite mo (Even if your everything loses its shape one day) Eien ni boku no naka de ikiteku yo (You'll always be here with me) Sayonara dekizu ni aruki dasu boku to (As I try to move on again, even though I couldn't say goodbye to you I’ll carry on because I know) Zutto issho ni (You’ll always be with me)"

Finally able to let go of her fears of forgetting her father and of death itself. She is beginning to keep the memory of those she lost close without pain. Niko's father will always be a part of her, and even though she can't see him again doesn't mean that will be forever. I also chose this song from Given—a popular BL anime—to symbolize that Niko is believing in love and hope again. She is staying true to herself despite the hardship's she's faced.

Tracks 11-13: Agape

Track 11: History Maker by DEAN FUJIOKA

As Crystal and Niko prepare to save the boys, Niko is given the opportunity to demonstrate all her growth as she prepared for a dangerous battle. Niko also canonically loves Yuri!!! on Ice, so she gets two songs from that on this playlist.

"Can you hear my heartbeat? Tired of feeling never enough I close my eyes and tell myself That my dreams will come true"

Niko hadn't felt truly alive in a long time until she joined the agency, now that she is a part of the group, she can feel alive again. She encourages Crystal in their preparations, believing that love can prevail and everyone will be saved.

"There'll be no more darkness When you believe in yourself, you are unstoppable Where your destiny lies, dancing on the blades You set my heart on fire"

She refused to be left behind again, this time believing in herself. Niko has the ability to set hearts on fire, warming them and bringing them back to life. She did this with Edwin, but also with Tragic Mick, who was able to provide them with tools to help them defeat Esther.

"Don't stop us now, the moment of truth We were born to make history We'll make it happen, we'll turn it around Yes, we were born to make history"

Fully back to believing in her friends and love, she demonstrates the most courage she has yet so far.

Track 12: If by Kana Nishino

During the battle with Esther, Niko's feelings about life, death, and love come into focus, as well as her relationship with fate itself.

"Moshimo ano hi no ame ga (If the rain that day) yandeita nara (Had stopped) Kitto surechigatteita dake kamo (I'm sure we probably would have passed right by each other) Itsumotoori no jikan ni (If the bus had come) BASU ga kiteta nara (At its usual time) Kimi to wa deau koto ga nakattanda ne (We may not have ever met)"

As the group fights to save Charles and Edwin, Niko is able to reflect on the sheer miracle it is that everyone is able to be together and to have become friends. If just one different decision was made, they would not have found each other.

"Kimi to onaji mirai wo (I want to forever see) Zutto isshoni miteitai (The same future that you do) Onaji hoshi wo onaji basho de (Let's forever look at) Mitsumete iyou yo (The same stars�� at the same place) Kimi no egaku mirai ni (In the future you envision) Watashi wa iru no kana (I wonder if I exist) Onaji sora wo onaji omoi de (I want to look at) Miageteitai yo (The same sky feeling the same emotions)"

Even as things are set to change again, Niko decides to fight against the fate where they are all separated. She is going to fight to stay together with her new family, feeling the same emotions and experiences together.

"Guuzen wa saisho kara (It is as if all the coincidences) Mou kimatteta mitai ni (Have been decided from the start) Kasanatta futari wa unmei tte shinjiteiru yo (Our fates are to cross by each other, so I believe)"

This song discusses the concept of fate, particularly of people meeting each other. It seems to be fate that Niko ended up in that room fighting Esther and fate that she will face her ultimate fear of death. Throughout the series Niko has been associated with death, both from the magic eight ball that predicts it, to her hair turning white after the sprites (white being a color of death and mourning in Japanese culture).

"Tatoeba namida no hi mo (No matter if it's a day full of tears) Hare no hi mo futari de (Or if it's a bright sunny day) Onaji michi wo itsumademo (I hope we can always hold hands) Te wo tsunaide arukemasu you ni (And walk down the same roads)"

As she sees Crystal in danger, Niko hopes the very red string of fate that binds them together will stay strong despite the finality of her decision. Her hope is no matter what, she will be reunited with the ones she has grown to love and cherish.

Track 13: 愛について — Agape from Yuri!!! on Ice

Niko and love are fundamentally tied to each other. Throughout the series, Niko has been associated with the concept of philia, that is the love one has for one's friends and family. She has been shown the heartbreak that can come from that kind of love, either through death or by making mistakes that hurt other people. However, she was able to overcome these hardships to become the truest friend she could be. It has all been leading to the moment where she sacrifices herself to her greatest fear, finally demonstrating agape. Agape is considered the highest form of life: selfless and unconditional. It is a love that is both a feeling and a way of life. The lyrics discuss how life is temporary:

"Sic mea vita est temporaria (So my life is temporary) Cupit ardenter caritatem aeternam (He longs ardently for eternal love) Credam, dabo, sperabo (I will believe, I will give, I will hope) Honorabo, laborabo, gratias agam! (I will honor, I will work, I will thank you!)"

Due to the temporary nature of life, Niko has been searching for a love that lasts forever. She tried to find it in eros and philia, but now in this moment she understands what she has been missing.

"Magna, magna caritas (Great, great charity) Magna, magna caritas (Great, great charity) Ah! Audio vocem tuam! (Ah! I hear your voice!) Adest mi libertas! (Here is my freedom!)"

By performing an act of great charity, the ultimate sacrifice, Niko is granted freedom from her fear of death.

Niko's story is not over. Like the memories of her father, her presence will continue to affect the characters for the rest of the series. Her journey throughout the season in regards to love has shown her resilience, intelligence, maturity, and growth. And while in this moment she has achieved the ultimate form of love that she craved, she has so much to learn.

#niko sasaki #edwin payne #charles rowland #crystal palace #dead boy detectives #edwin paine #dbd #the dead boy detectives #spotify playlist #character playlist #Spotify #her playlist was the most difficult to make despite being the shortest #I wanted to capture her vibe as well as her story because she has such a presence #hope i didn't absolutely embarrass myself with the translations #either way I love you niko nothing bad happens to you ever!!!!#crystal palace surname von hoverkraft

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palmofafreezinghand · 1 year ago

Note

For your Day Needing Distraction requests, wanna do a scene that's just Carlisle and Esme but set during the saga somewhere?

thank you so much for the prompt @jessicanjpa, sorry this took a lil bit!

Esme tries to appease Carlisle's worries about Edward's new relationship with a story about their own. on ao3 here.

Carlisle fed another log to the crackling fire. Edward had banished his ‘parents’ to Carlisle’s study while Isabella Swan was getting a tour of the family home for the first time, something about not terrifying her too much on the first encounter.

“It never turns off does it?” Esme asked from her place on the loveseat behind him.

He furrowed his brow, gaze still focused on the flames. “Do I dare ask for more context?”

“That little brain of yours,” she sighed. His brain being referred to as little made him look over his shoulder at her. “Whatever in there that makes you constantly picture our gory firey deaths and has convinced you God will never let you be happy.”

He chuckled lightly, standing and walking slightly slower than a human to the couch. “My father deserves some credit for that.”

“You’re deflecting,” she rolled her eyes as he lifted her feet off the cushion and took a seat, letting her legs rest across his lap.

“I was not blessed with your optimism, my love.”

“Faith is a choice,” she parroted words he had told her decades earlier.

“Alice saw it. She saw him ki —”

“Alice wears fishnet tights and paints her eyes like a raccoon. Truly I have no idea why any of us trust her judgement.”

He gasped theatrically, lightly squeezing her calf. “Did I not hear you just yesterday tell her you admired her makeup?”

“I said I admired her bravery to experiment. There is a difference.”

“I see,” he nodded absentmindedly, eyes fixed on the fire. Our gory firey deaths.

She leaned forward and poked at the crease between his eyebrows. “You’re still worrying. Do you not trust Edward.”

“I love Edward,” he said instinctively.

“I don’t believe that’s what I asked.”

“I…” he took a deep breath, weighing the words in his mind. Thousands of thoughts and yet unable to find the way to begin to voice them. She placed her thumb and index on his chin and softly turned his head to look at her. “I believe he can manage it. But you know how he is. He gets over-confident and stubborn, and people get hurt, and he gets hurt.”

She smiled. “Who does that remind me of?”

“I’m not stub— ” he stopped himself before he could deny her claim and in turn prove it.

She blew air out of her nose. “Did you ever worry about us, when we first started courting?”

“Always”

“Me too.”

“You did?” He frowned, again.

“Till the moment Edward dragged me down the aisle.”

“Dragged?”

“He never told you the story?”

“There’s a story?”

“Do you remember our wedding day?”

He laughed. He remembered every single moment they had spent together in perfect detail, but even without the eidetic memory, he would remember their wedding day. “Vaguely.”

“You remember how I was late?”

“For the first and last time in your life, yes.” It had been a source of many quips over the years.

“That may have been because I completely panicked. I believe I ran as far as Colorado when Edward caught up.”

“Pardon?”

“Shush,” she grinned, amused by what had to of been horror on his face, slinging her arms loosely around his neck. “My mind had been racing for hours, imagining every horrible scenario that could happen once we were married. Poor Edward had been listening to this for hours. When Edward finally stopped me he said...

——

“You’re right,” Edward yelled, from the other side of the river, still gauging how he was going to cross.

Esme dug her heels into the ground, coming to an abrupt halt. “Pardon?”

“Carlisle could become a monster. You’re right. Marriage may be the worst choice you ever make. You are absolutely correct.”

“This is not helpful, Edward,” she huffed.

“I can not promise things won’t go horribly wrong, they could. But… I can promise that if things go right you two will be incredibly happy.”

“I do not gamble.”

“Esme, you two deserve happiness more than anyone I know.”

“We’re the only people you know,” she attempted a smile that failed to reach her eyes.

“If you truly want to leave, I will personally ensure you never have to worry about a cent, I can make sure Carlisle never contacts you again. But I need to know with absolute certainty you are not throwing away something that could be wonderful simply because you’re frightened.”

Esme sighed as she sat down clumsily on the river bank. She chewed at the corner of her lip. The rushing water was the only sound made for minutes.

“What time does your pocket watch say?” Esme finally asked.

“Ten after eleven.”

She stood, brushing dirt off her ratty house dress. “I’ll have to get ready quickly, but we can still make it.”

“Are you positive?”

“More than I ever have been.”

——

“You left?” Carlisle exclaimed, eyebrows nearly in his hairline.

“I came back!”

“Mere hours before our wedding you were halfway across the country,” he muttered. He was no longer looking at her, back to the fire, gory firey death in the form of a lonely groom at the altar. The spiral began.

“Look at that, you’ve stopped worrying about Edward,” she laughed.

“No, no, now I’m only worried about our entire marriage.”

“Carlisle,” she placed her hands on either side of his face, “I love you more than life itself. I am not asking you to be an optimist. I am not asking you to even be positive. I’m asking you to let him have a chance at something wonderful.”

He closed his eyes in resignation, or at least she thought it was resignation. “Colorado, that’s over a thousand miles.”

“You’re impossible,” she laughed.

#sorry this took a lil bit i started something in breaking dawn timeline got 2k deep and changed course #carlisle cullen #esme cullen #edward cullen #my stories

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mpsansy · 5 months ago

Note

Just to establish the timeline of when the ghosts were able to turn corporal (Manifestation, able to interact with the living world/remember, etc.), feel free to correct me, but it seems like the trio was first judging by the TikTok of Stretch putting JT in his place. Most likely due to the shear animosity the three most certainly share, if not Stretch having the most himself over Casper. Casper is next by the fact that he’s not oblivious to his father’s… less than stellar record of being an actual father. But because he seems aware of JT’s attempts to resurrect him and his mother… And it be fitting. JT’s greatest failure, wandering the halls of his mansion, an apparition of a life JT could have had… If his selfish ambition wasn’t thicker than blood. But seeing his dad trying helps Casper to still have a generous view of his father… At least until he meets Wendy, and being a witch, hooboy, she can practically taste how THICK the curse is over the McFadden family. Next is Casper’s mother, I feel like I missed the reason why, but I’m going to chalk it up to that because she died so suddenly from the curse her spirit hadn’t really collected itself until much later.

Is any of this slightly correct?

Mm, a little bit of it. But to be fair, I need to be more clear on my posts over there on TikTok. I’m finally starting to get the picture of what I want out of these characters, so I’ll be soon compiling all the things I need to tell about these characters. And having to write it more accurately here will be a big help to translate it into my videos over there!

Anyway, getting back into this. None of these ghosts were ever able to interact with J.T. The trio specifically weren’t even in the manor except for Casper, who saw a man desperately seeking a way to get his family back. Casper had a hunch that this man was perhaps referring to him and another person, but… he didn’t know him. Like at all. It was mixed feeling for the child, but he really did want to help the man.

However the interactions were so small, so faint. It irritated the child. But perhaps irritating J.T more cause now he knew something- someone was there with him. Casper had lashed out and broke some things due to the invisible barrier. Both equally tried to talk, but something was there to say “NO”.

Though this was for the better for Casper. Because this man, the man that was indeed his biological father. In all the years of attempting to bring his wife and child back, he was still thinking of himself. Always had, always will. A reality I don’t think he saw until Wendy came into his life.

Now with what you’re saying there, kinda feels like you pulled it out of my brain. Wendy is not only great friend to Casper, but a spectacular magical genius. Knowing all things about curses and secret spells. And she does see it. All the things that happened to her friend and his family.

It might have actually upset her cause, as you said, she can taste how thick the curse is. I happen to take that literally. With Wendy describing the taste as blood and sticky like tar. Almost suffocating if you wanted her honest opinion. And she feels for this family. She really does cause it seems like all the horrible deaths that happened to the McFadden family, it all occurred because of J.T’s crazed obsession with power. And all of them paying the price for it.

And I kind of said something about Casper’s mother that I’ll be happy to repeat. She was lost in all this time. And with your thought about the curse having a play in that would be appropriate to sum it up to.

She'd be the very first affected by the curse and it pushed her so far away that she split apart. Barely managing to collect herself and trying her best to call out to her family.

Took long enough, but the trio finally heard her calls.

#answered asks #anonymous #sansy speaking here #casper the friendly ghost #wendy the good little witch #casper mcfadden #the ghostly trio #jt mcfadden

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princesspastel8 · 4 months ago

Text

Chapter 60

Third POV

"Child, it's time to wake up. Dinner is ready, and we're eating it together - like a family." Grandma Abigail said while knocking on the bedroom door.

"Not hungry."

"Gurl, get your ass up! Come on! Abbie took a liking to you, so come on! Stop being so over dramatic!" Veronika shouts from behind the door.

Eboni almost snapped again but remembers her words. The sooner she gets through this, the sooner she'll be out of their lives. But Eboni can't help but question why they reached out to her in the first place. Considering how their treating her, it isn't out of love. Just what's their motive?

"Alright! Be down in five!" She shouts, crawling out of bed and reaches in her bag to put on a pair of pink leggings and a crop white hoodie with a pink heart in the middle.

The teen grabs her phone and leaves one airpod in her ear. She slips on her house shoes and opens her door, glad no one is there waiting for her on the other side. Eboni starts walking mindlessly, forgetting her way to the dining room - not that she cares. Why not explore a mansion that she'll never get the luxury to live it?

The floor is marble white, walls bricked and painted white as well. Eboni doesn't have a problem with the color white, but white on white like this can give anyone a headache. What this place needs is a splash of...color.

That's when the teen stumbles across a black metal door. It's odd how she wasn't paying attention to her surroundings yet is drawn to this door. The hall has no other rooms, no windows, and no stairs, just this door. Eboni moves closer to the door, reaching for the handle until a voice breaks her from her trance.

Veronika clears her throat, crossing her arms over her chest. "What are you doing?"

"Why is this room so secluded?"

"None of your business. No one is allowed in there. Now come on. Dinner is getting cold."

"Tch. Whatever..." she whisper, "led the way. This damn place is a maze."

Veronika eyes Eboni but doesn't say anything. Her glare is enough of a warning. The two walk into the dining room in silence, though the table is full of chatter. The only sit available is in between Kenneth & Abbie. Eboni was never close to her uncle. Her father never favored leaving his daughter alone with him for reasons she never knew.

"Hi Eboni!" The girl greets with a shy smile, holding her bunny close to her chest.

She looks at the child boredly, tilting her head. "Ah yeah...hey..who gave you that bunny? Your mom?"

Abbie shakes her head, smiling sadly. "It was a gift from my dad... the last one he gave me before he went bye-bye."

"I see... my parents gave me one too. I brought it with me. I'll show you mine later."

"Really? Maybe we can play too?" Abbie asked hopefully.

Eboni smiles softly, rubbing the child's head. "Yeah. We'll play together soon, promise."

Eboni stares at her food, questioning if she should eat it or not. She doesn't trust these people, not even for a second. With these thoughts, she feels something rubbing against her shin from under the table. Eboni looks down, noticing a kitty.

The girl smiles sadly, lowering her hand down to scoop the kitty onto her lap. She keeps the cat hidden, feeding it small bites of her food. No one seems to notice, except for Kenneth. For some reason, he can't keep his eyes off his niece. When has she grown to be so beautiful?- in a scary sort of way. His wife, of course, notices his stares but doesn't correct him. Instead, she hangs her head low, ashamed on what may take place later on in the night.

When dinner is finally over, everyone gathers into the living room to pass out one gift for everyone to open. Eboni watches from the corner of the room, memories of happier times flashing in her brain. She has to swallow the lump building in her throat as she witnesses the excitement in Abbie's eyes.

This used to be her. Dancing around the Christmas tree with her parents, opening one gift on Christmas Eve, drowning in eggnog and sugar cookies. Those her were happiest moments, and being forced to witness it all only fuels her hatred for this family.

A presence near her disrupts her thoughts, the person clearing their throat to get her attention. Eboni turns her head, looking up at her uncle Kenneth.

He holds out a glass a wine for her, smiling. "You looked a little down, thought this might help."

Eboni raises a brow but takes the drink. She isn't going to drink it, she learned her lesson from Alex. A lesson she'll never forget. The girl doesn't bother looking at Kenneth, keeping her eyes on the gift opening and family dancing.

"Not gonna talk to me?"

"What is there to say? I don't know you. You don't know me. I see nothing wrong with keeping it that way." She said nonchalantly.

"Aw, don't be like that kid. I'm your uncle for crying out loud."

"Mhm. My uncle, that didn't show up to my parents' funeral. Yeah, I know." Eboni said, voice voided.

Kenneth sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. "Look... I'm sorry. I should've been there for you. All of us should have. Sorry for not showing. It's just that... you're dad, and I weren't on the best of terms. You were too young to understand."

"I'm not that eight year old girl anymore. Spit it out or leave me the fuck alone." Eboni grumbles.

Kenneth's eyes trail down Eboni's body, his lip quirk-ing up a bit. "Yeah... yeah, you're right. Your mother was a beautiful woman. My brother and I were the talk of the town. We'd pass our women around to each other. We were close like that. But then your mom came into the picture. I made my move on her, and that asshole broke my nose! He should've made it clear that she was off the market - married or not. He got a taste of my wife. Why couldn't I get a taste of h-"

SPLASH!

Eboni lowers her now empty glass, tears building in her eyes and a hand over her mouth. ".....you didn't show for their funeral because of something so...so low? So, petty? Are you kidding me right now?"

Kenneth frowns, all eyes now on the two. "You're gonna pay for that kid." He whispers, low enough for only Eboni to hear. The older male then storms off, his wife running after him.

Eboni places her glass down on the nearest table, ignoring looks of confusion. She goes straight to her room and closes the door. She grabs her nightgown and other hygienic things used during her showers and rushes into the bathroom. She turns the water onto ice cold and steps inside, lowering her head under the showerhead.

Calm down. Calm down.

Calm.

Down.

.....Impossible.

How can she calm down after being told such disgusting things. So what if her father used to be a dunce bag? He changed. Her mother changed him. Eboni is sure all those women were just hoes in the first place, just wanting to get to the money in his pockets. But Amara was different. Her father had enough common sense to not let his true love go even if it meant giving up his family just to be with her.

Once she feels her raging emotions calm, she begins her nightly routine. After her shower, she blow drys her hair and drys her body- slipping into her nightgown. When done, she walks out of her bathroom, greeted by Kenneth, walking in and locking the bedroom door behind himself.

Eboni tenses, the atmosphere instantly shifting to a theme she's all too familiar with. Her uncle moves from the door, crossing his arms over his chest. He grins, eyes scanning her body from head to toe.

"You know... you're just as beautiful as your mother. It's ashame I couldn't get a taste of her. Every time I tried, my selfish little brother would get in the way. He even moved! Ugh! Can you believe that? Anyways, since you look so much like her...I guess you'll have to do."

At this point, Kenneth is now towering over the her - a perverted grin taking over his lips as he licks them. This is why her father never allowed her uncle around. He's a predator, a sick demented predator. Eboni is sure Kenneth forced her father to partake in his antics by some type of manipulation - whatever the reason it wasn't of his free will. This family, this whole mansion, is full of monsters.

Without a second thought, Eboni knees him in his groin and runs out of her room. The male falls to the ground, spurring curses at her. The girl runs and runs until she once again stumbles across the black door. Eboni gulps, quickly looking around before approaching the door.

She reaches to turn the nob, but it's locked. Swearing, she pulls at the nob, hearing her uncle grow closer. The fear, that disgust of her experience with Alex, is beginning to make her panic. She can't go through it again. She won't.

Reaching into her hair, she pulls out a bobbypin and begins picking at the lock. She always keeps one in her hair, even after washing it. The closer he got, the more unsteady her hands became. Before he turns the corner, the lock clicks. Eboni pushes the door and rushes inside, closing it behind herself gently to not alert him.

Eboni locks the door from the inside and sighs in relief. It's a long walk down this hallway, and a knee to the balls will definitely keep him at bay for a while. She takes this short time to glance around the room.

It's a huge office, a file cabinet right next to the long desk that is covered in monitors. This must be the control room, but why would Veronika be so cautious when Eboni discovered the door? Because of this question, the girl moves closer to the desk - a file laid on it - said file with her name on it.

"The hell?" she questions, opening the file and reading through it.

The more Eboni reads, the more sick she feels to her stomach. Her whole life. Everything. From the moment she was given away up to now. Everything has been documented and kept inside this file. They knew of her whereabouts. They've kept taps on her since the beginning yet did nothing to bring her back. They simply did not want her back, so why go to such lengths to keep taps on someone you don't want?

That question is put on hold when the sound of the doorknob turning is heard. Eboni quickly places the flies down and runs to hide under the desk. She pulls herself as far as possible, bringing her knees to her chest and places her hand over her mouth & nose.

"Ma, that brat is smarter than we thought!" Veronika whines. "And Kenny, you should've left her be. I saw how you were looking at her - ya' sick freak."

"Oh fuck you! I can't help that she's thicker than her mother!"

"God, you're so -"

"Shush up now! You know the goal for this! You two are supposed to make her feel welcomed, not drive a bigger wedge between us!"

"Well, you weren't being too nice with her either." The woman grumbles, sounding like a child.

"Mhm. Anyways, yes... she is smarter than we gave her credit for. Poisoning her food was to amateurish, especially since that was done to her before." Abigail sighs, pitching the bridge of her nose.

"No shit. She was feeding that damn cat the food. Poor thing is dead somewhere around here." Kenneth said with a shrug.

"We could just stage another car accident." Veronika points out.

Eboni heart stops as ringing fills her ears. Another car accident? What the hell did she mean by that? Theres no way they played a part in... there's just no way -

"No, Veronika. The police are getting suspicious of us now thanks to your irresponsibility and lack of patience. You could've stayed with your husband for another year or so before killing him."

"He was hogging all the money! It was pissing me off!"

"I don't blame him. You're the reason we're in this financial situation in the first place. Hope his life insurance policy is paying off." Kenneth sighs, annoyed.

"No, it's n-"

"Our company is about to go bankrupt because of you, girl! Once everything goes according to plan, I will be keeping you on a tight leash. Do you understand Veronika?" Abigail scolds.

"Yeah... yeah, ma...to bad that brat doesn't have a life insurance policy like her parents did."

"Agreed." Kenneth grumbles. "Could use half a mil right now."

"Enough chit chat. Listen, my children. Tomorrow will go accordingly: Eboni will be included in everything. She is to feel welcomed and loved. Then, when her guard is down, Kenneth will slip the toxins into whatever she'll be drinking - AFTER signing the papers. Get her drunk as well before handing her the papers."

Papers? What papers?

"Yeah, yeah. Treat her nice, get her drunk, make her sign over everything her parents left her, then BOOM! The toxins will kill her. Sounds full proof to me." Veronika said with a grin.

"Same...ugh- too bad I won't ever know what her insides feel like.." Kenneth pouts sadly.

"Again. Such a demented fucker!"

"Enough! Argue someplace else. It's time for me to rest. Prepare yourselves for tomorrow. This plan can not fall through, understand?"

"Yes ma'."

After the three leave, Eboni stays under the desk a little while longer- processing all she just heard. They did this. They planned all of it. They killed her parents for money, and now they're trying to do the same to her. All this pain, this abandonment, the endless misery. All of it brought to her thanks to her father's greedy family.

She slowly crawls out from underneath, body racking in so many emotions - her mind drowning in endless memories of her torment filled life. Eboni reaches for her file again, skipping to the final sheet inside. The girl pulls it out, reading over it slowly.

"This is the will of Amara Brown & Anthony Brown. All funds made by us will go to our daughter, Eboni Brown. Our life savings are to be kept inside a trust fund that she won't have access to until she turns eighteen. She is to be placed under the care of Veronika or Tiffany. Kenneth is never allowed near Eboni Brown, no matter the circumstances. In the events something happens to our precious princess, the funds shall be given to Anthony's parents- Abigail, and Clarence Brown. Nothing is to be shared among Anthony' siblings."

- Amara & Anthony Brown♡

Scream.

She has to scream.

She needs to.

But she doesn't. Eboni holds it in as tears roll down her cheeks. All this time... all this time, it was them. They took her parents, placed her in the foster system, and made her endure home after unstable home in hopes one of those homes brought death. Tiffany, thankfully, somehow gotten ahold to Eboni when she should've been placed under her care to begin with.

There are so many unanswered questions. So many missing details, though Eboni will get all her answers - she'll make sure of it. Eboni has tried being a decent human being despite the hand she's been dealt with. She tried to keep her mind grounded, well rounded - but that white line, the thin white string has snapped.

They're going to pay. She's going to bring them hell. But not quickly. No. No, this has to be planned - well thought out. She's working on the clock here, and her head is also up on the chopping block, yet Eboni isn't worried. Unlike her family, she knows better - more skilled people to help her out.

Eboni collects herself, reaching under her gown and pulls out her phone she had resting in her bra. "BEN. I know you hear me. I need a favor."

Her phone screen glitches as BEN appears on it. He grins, raising a brow at Eboni's tear stained cheeks. "Whoa, are you -"

"I'm fine. I will be." Eboni shows BEN the monitors on the desk. "Think you can hack into them?"

"Duh. But you're pretty fair out. Out of Slenderman's jurisdiction."

"Is that an issue for you?"

"Nope! I'll be more powerful out of his range. It just might attract unwanted attention." BEN warns but shrugs nonchalantly.

"We'll deal with that later. I'll send you more information later. Stay in touch."

"Alright. Tell Jeff I said nice hair." BEN snickers before Eboni's phone screen returns back to normal.

The girl rolls her eyes, glancing around the desk again. She notices a map of the entire mansion, from the outside perimeter to all the wings and rooms within the mansion. Eboni takes pictures of everything, including her file and the will. When done, she sends everything to Jeff, placing her phone back against her bra strap.

As she walks towards the door, she notices a safe in a far corner of the room. Curious, she moves to it- rolling her eyes at how rusty it looks. Why keep something so old anyways? What could be inside? These thoughts in mind, Eboni begins punching in random numbers hoping to crack the code- but none work.

Out of spite, she puts in her birthday, eyes widening as the safe clicks open. She opens the door to the small safe, gasping at what's inside. Eboni pulls out a pink hand gun, bullets, and a note.

-to my princess from your dad.

Happy eighteenth birthday!

P.s. don't tell your mother ;)

Eboni laughs sadly, feeling more tears coming. The gun is beautiful, pastel pink with little charms over it. Eboni reads the engraving, allowing the few tears to fall as she stands back up - closing the safe door.

"My one and only princess..." she whispers aloud before placing the gun between her breast - making sure the gun is on lock before doing so.

Eboni carefully opens the door, peeking her head out. Sighing in relief, she steps out- closing the door behind. She quickly dashes down the hall, checking every corner before entering a new hall. When in the hall leading towards her room, she notices Abbie waiting for her with bunny in hand.

The girl's eyes brighten at the sight of Eboni and meet her halfway. "Eboni Eboni!"

"Yes?"

"It's almost Christmas!"

Eboni rolls her eyes. "I know...what about it?"

"Well...um...wanna stay up and wait to spot Santa?" The eight year old asks shyly.

Eboni lowers herself down, tilting her head. "Abbie....there's something you should know."

"What is it? Are you gonna say yes?"

"No. The opposite. Santa isn't real."

Abbie's eyes widen as tears fill them. "That...that's not true! Momma said-"

"Your mother is a god damn liar."

"Those aren't nice words!"

"I'm not a very nice person."

"I'm gonna tell momma what you said!"

"Go ahead. That won't suddenly make santa real. How about you stay up and watch Uncle Kenneth eat those Christmas cookies you worked so hard on. If santa eats the cookies before him, then I'm the liar. If not- then your mother is."

Abbie nods her head, but her tears continue falling. "Fine! I'm gonna prove you wrong!" She shouts before running away.

Eboni rolls her eyes before walking into her room. She quickly scans around, checking every hiding place Kenneth could possibly be in. The girl is too paranoid to leave anything up to chance. When done, she goes to lock her door and place a chair under the doorknob for extra measure.

Eboni turns off her light and reaches in her bag to pull out her bunny. She turns it around, unzipping the back and placing the gun, bullets, and note inside. She puts on her bonnet and lays down, holding her bunny close and phone by her side.

While drifting off to sleep, her phone dings. Frowning, she picks it up, smiling at the text from Jeff. Her smile turns crazed at what his message read. He always knows exactly what she's thinking.

DD🖤🗡: When?

E: Tomorrow morning. I'll let you know when. Study the map and layouts. BEN will be helping with the cameras & power.

DD🖤🗡: This isn't my first run, princess. I know what to do. Now go to sleep.

E: Yes, Daddy😘

Eboni grins, placing her phone down and rolling onto her back to stare at the ceiling.

It's about time Eboni Brown finally says,

Fuck it.

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vampykween · 1 year ago

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HI MICCC :3 hope you are well!! i’ve been brainrotting about ur singledad!simon and here’s a list of scenarios nd thoughts that’s been plaguing my mind

what if poppy got into a fight at school? the fight was short because you pulled them apart almost instantly - but she still got her hair pulled and a scratch on her cheek, and poppy knows from simon that fighting isn’t the best option, but when simon answers your call and hears poppy’s crying in the background, how would he react!!

the way kids like to overshare and have no filter, i can see poppy casually telling you stuff like “yeah my daddy has no friends” or “daddy doesn’t talk much”.. and then when simon comes to pick her up, maybe you two have a small convo and you accidentally slip up and mention what poppy’s told you about him.. then he looks and poppy and you like 🤨what else did you hear..

Oklfldldg how does simon do father daughter nights! is he the type to play competitively in games with her or does he always let her win? does he like taking her out to eat or does he prefer cooking at home :3

AAAA okay last one i promise:3 how do the other kids react to poppy’s behemoth of a dad? are they scared? do they think he’s a mafia boss of some sort? or do they find him incredibly awesome and think he’s a giant from those action movies

(ofc u don’t have to do all of them if u don’t want to OR if u don’t want to spoil anything for the series, just some thoughts! take ur time<3)

hi bby! i am very well right now actually and this made things even better, i could kiss your brain truly mwah <3

i will be saving these ideas because this gave me much needed inspiration and motivation for this series. also sorry if i didnt go as in depth with these, but the longer they sat in my drafts i realized i was never going to remember to finish oops! also i hope you dont mind i will be stealing the oversharing poppy idea if fits perfectly with what i have going for part 3 hehe

✴︎ I feel like simon would be fuming, at whom he’s not even sure. I imagine that some kid said something rude and snarky to her and she couldn’t take it anymore and popped on them, and you’re shocked because poppy is normally such a sweet little girl. Simon would definitely hug poppy close because seeing his baby hurt cuts like a knife, takes her out for ice cream and then chides her because omg! has she lost her mind fighting at school, but also he’s a tiny bit proud she’s a fighter like him.

✴︎No because Poppy would most definitely do this, in her head she’s just rattling off mundane things about her father, but you’re sporting a frown because there’s a tiny part of you that hates the idea of Simon being alone with just poppy. Not that it’s any of your business though (you would definitely have to remind yourself of that).

Simon is groaning at his daughter’s perceptive nature and how willing she is to share every thought she has. When you waved him over to where you were during school pick up, Simon was praying something bad hadn't happened. “Mr. Riley, err Simon, sorry.” you correct yourself quickly at the raised eyebrow look he gives you. “Is everything okay… like at home?” you’re mentally face palming at the way you blurted out the very intrusive question. You sense his shock by the question by the almost imperceptible widening of his eyes. “Why-” he looks down at Poppy who’s swinging her tiny hand in his, not paying any attention to the conversation you two are having, “What did she say to you?” You wring your hands nervously, the older man’s deadpan stare makes you feel like you’re in trouble for some reason. “Poppy mentioned to me that you don't have any friends or talk much to anybody. I don't mean to pry, really I swear. Kids will tell you anything, i'm sure you know. After what happened with the family tree thing and-” You're cut off by Simon’s large hand settling on your shoulder, clearly an attempt to calm you down and halt your rambling, but it has the opposite effect and all you can think about is how enormous his hands are and the weight of it grasping you. “No need to apologize, Poppy talks my ear off about you. I’d be surprised if she didn’t talk to you about things. And you don't need to worry about me, luv. Im fine being alone, i've got my little petal and that’s enough f’me.” There’s an aura of wistfulness in his words, that makes you want to push him for a more truthful answer, but you chide yourself at your thoughts. You barely know this man. Whatever longing you think is in his voice may as well be a projection of your own sadness; a failed long term relationship will do that to a person.

✴︎Definitely loves to play games but does not let Poppy win because he wants her to learn how to lose and be okay with it. (You would applaud this btw, this is every teachers’ dream. Trust me on that). Their father-daughter nights also will be movie nights with as many sweets as poppy desires because Simon won't bend to anything but her little puppy dog eyes. I feel like even though he’s not the best cook ever Simon would go out of his way to cook Poppy’s favorites for her. Especially like on a saturday morning and wakes her up with breakfast in bed because why not spoil his little girl if he can.

✴︎I think it's a mix of both really. I imagine Poppy goes to some nice fancy school because why not lol. And some of Poppy's classmates have snooty rich parents who turn their noses up at Simon so their kids are kinda wary of him too. I think Poppy would hype up her dad so much at recess time. Telling stories of how he used to be a ‘super cool soldier’ and all the other kids would be staring in awe like omg your dad is so cool, my dad just does people’s taxes lol.

#mic answers #second chances au #oc: poppy #i lied please bless me with the motivation to actually finish the parts for this series...#i have too many half started drafts ughhhhh

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ucetheones · 1 year ago

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A Peek Through Time | FTM! Jey Uso x Rhea Ripley x Dominik Mysterio

Gif credit: @samijey 🖤

Jon remembers the day Josh tearfully came out to him and Joe, demanding with tears in his eyes that they no longer call him "Jayla". He remembers his twin shaking like a leaf when he told them she/her pronouns felt wrong and dirty.

At fourteen, Josh lacked the proper terminology to express what they now know as Dysphoria.

Jon accepted his brother's words with ease, some part of him had always known his sister was never really his sister. All their lives Josh had always been one of the guys.

She (he, Jon's brain corrected) played all manner of sports, and would do anything to avoid being forced into a frilly dress. All in all, it made sense to Jon that his twin sister was actually his twin brother.

Joe had taken the confession with less grace than Jon, but he hadn't been rude or nasty to Josh, so that was a slight win.

Coming out to the rest of their family was difficult enough, their mom tried to hide her discomfort, and the saddened expression that threatened to overtake her features, but she remained pleasant as always.

Their father was outright against it, wasting no time in berating Josh for foolish thoughts and sinful behaviors.

"You're a girl, Jayla. My daughter will not parade around town and embarrass her family."

There was a threat of kicking him out after that comment, one Jon remembers playing over in his head whenever he sees their father even after years have gone by and Josh no longer lived under their dad's roof.

The second he and Josh turned eighteen, his twin brother was dead set on moving out, and he had, only a few weeks into adulthood.

It was an odd adjustment, but going to see Josh at his apartment with Joe had become a daily occurrence, until college got in the way, and they rarely had the chance to see their youngest counterpart through anything other than a video chat with Josh's camera cut off, or blurry selfies sent on-the-go.

Jon supposes it's his own fault he never sees his brother, after all he and Joe chose a different school.

Seeing Josh in person for the first time in months, almost a year if he was honest, was startling in the best way. He'd cut his hair into a mullet, styled so his curls were the main focus. He'd bulked up considerably, the cropped tee-shirt that adorned his body had the sleeves cut off; giving a clear view of all this twin's hard work.

There was a lot of ink covering his arms, something Jon was slightly envious of.

But the biggest, most noticeable difference was the facial hair, because Josh had always spoken in a deeper voice, as children he had the raspiest voice in their family, and that hadn't changed as adults.

Which is probably why Jon never caught on to just how much his voice dropped.

It wasn't half as shocking as the hair covering his brother's face, though.

Josh should've been unrecognizable, but it was honestly like looking in a mirror for the first time in their lives. They'd always been twins, but there was never any concrete proof as far as looks were concerned. They'd always looked alike, but now? Now they were nearly identical, the only major difference being their smiles and hair styles.

Joe is the first to embrace his cousin, patting him on the back with a wide grin on his lips.

"You look good, man!"

He was visibly proud, like he was the one who sculpted Josh into what the world saw now. Like it wasn't all of Josh's handwork on display.

Jon can tell Josh is proud of how he looks now, long gone are the hunched shoulders, arms crossed over his chest and the frown everyone thought might've become permanent.

"You must be livin' in the gym, Uce. The hell kinda' regimen you got?"

Jon almost surprises himself when he speaks, but Josh once again beats him to the punch.

His twin's laugh is light and airy, yet just as deep as his voice,

"As much as I'd like to brag, all this?" He gestures to himself, "Is Rhea and Dominik's work. Wakin' my ass up at four am, talkin' bout some "It'll be fun, come on, babe. We'll get wafflehouse after!" News flash, it's not fun, and it never will be."

He sounds annoyed, but fond as he complains, but all Jon can focus on are the names he doesn't know. Are they Josh's friends? Is he dating one of them? He doesn't even know if Josh is straight or not.

Joe's laughter cuts through Jon's thoughts, and he's quickly trying to find his place in the conversation.

Apparently, Joe had bitten the bullet and asked Josh who Rhea and Dominik were.

Josh's eyes almost lit up at the question, and he wasted not a breath before he was telling his brother and cousin about his girlfriend and his boyfriend.

It was weird, in truth, but his twin was happy so what was the harm?

Josh, Rhea and Dominik were tight-knit, rarely did you see one of them without the others. Whatever was happening between this was authentic and unyielding.

Until their relationship was imploding, for reasons Jon still doesn't know even though the four year relationship ended under his roof.

Over the course of a few weeks, Josh changed into a more closed off version of himself, though he still worked out religiously, and wrestled in small circuits with his brother and cousin, he no longer had the same motivation. Jon thought it was understandable, one break up was rough. But two? He couldn't begin to understand how drained his brother must've been feeling on a daily basis. Especially since they all worked together at varying points in their training.

One day, things seemed to be going well enough, again. Josh was branching out and finding new friends, and having new experiences.

He, Rhea and Dominik had somehow patched things up, and were on the verge of mending their once broken relationship.

And the next…the next day, Josh wasn't breathing, or moving and Jon was sobbing. Hysterically.

Rhea was staring blankly ahead, her eyes squinting into the darkness, like Josh's bleeding body wasn't currently at their feet, but she was crying.

Dominik was on his knees, trying to put pressure on the stab wound, his hands shaking.

With some coaxing from Dominik, Rhea finally finds her footing and gently shoves him aside to take his place in tending to their boyfriend. Her first-aid skills far exceeded any of theirs.

Joe was on the phone with 911, attempting to explain that his cousin wasn't breathing, was bleeding profusely, and they weren't sure if he had a pulse because everyone was too keyed up, even Rhea who realistically should've been able to with practiced ease. It was impossible to check when your hands shook viciously.

After that, nothing was the same. Nothing could ever be the same. Because Josh almost died, and they still aren't sure why the person who attacked him did what they did.

The doctors aren't sure how Josh made such a quick recovery, but he had.

During his brief recovery, Josh had met with surgeons to arrange everything for top surgery, the final step for him at the moment, as far as his transition went. He hadn't wanted bottom surgery, and had been on testosterone for a few years already, so top surgery was his end all be all. At least for now.

It had taken a couple more years for Josh, Jon, Joe, Rhea and Dominik to debut in WWE, but when they finally did? It was their biggest dream finally coming to fruition.

Josh debuted as the first male trans wrestler on the main roster, which easily made him the guy to root for. The pop he got any time his music hit was unreal, and sometimes Jon wondered how his twin managed the almost immediate popularity, because with it came a butt load of hate. But, Josh was happier than ever before, so Jon didn't question it too much.

Somehow, Rhea and Dominik ended up being paired together, alongside Finn Balor and Damian Priest, whilst Josh, who now went by Jey, for work purposes, was off in a faction with his twin brother, and cousin. Their baby brother would soon be joining them on the main roster, and it was all truly coming together.

Or it did for a few years, before the company scripted The Bloodline's implosion, and carted a newly liberated Jey Uso to Monday Night Raw, sans Jimmy, Roman or Solo.

For the first time, Jey should've been alone, fending for himself, but being favored by the higher-ups was nothing if not a blessing, because one mention of possibly being paired up with The Judgement Day to Triple H, and Jey was being thrust into a storyline with his girlfriend and boyfriend.

Along the way, Jimmy too gets swept up in Judgement Day antics, though where Jey actually joins, Jimmy only occasionally tags along, offering support in silent ways. Like helping them win matches when the faction crosses over to Smackdown for the week, or handling a problem for them should one arise and none of the actual members can be present.

When the storyline of Jey and Rhea getting together begins, the fans are immediately under the assumption he and Dominik would end up at odds, they're split on who to root for.

Things on screen are tense between The Mysterio and The Uso for a couple weeks, before things come to a head and Rhea, being Rhea, puts them both in their places. She doesn't choose one of them, and says as much, leaving the WWE Universe in instant shambles, but then she's choosing both of them.

There's confusion from everyone, even some feigned confusion from both Dominik and Jey, before Dominik is smirking and blowing a kiss to the man, causing him to burst into laughter.

Again, the fans are lost, unknowing of what goes on beyond kayfabe, or that they'd ultimately broken it for a second, but it all seems to be the best choice, because the faction proceeds to blow up in ways no one thought possible.

Jon is proud of his brother, he truly is. He got to watch as his twin quite literally grew into the best man around, whilst simultaneously shaking things up in the field of wrestling at its very core. From being the first trans male wrestler on the main roster, to being in the first openly poly relationship in WWE, Josh was absolutely changing the foundation of all Jon and his family had known for decades. And while some were definitely against it, Jon, Joe and the people who mattered, were all for it.

Josh was happier than words could say, so who could find fault in that?

#jey uso #jey uso fanfiction #queer jey uso #trans jey uso #angst #wwe #jimmy uso #dominik mysterio #rhea ripley #jey uso x dominik mysterio #jey uso x rhea ripley #roman reigns #mentions of transphobia #Jey Dom and Rhea are the same age for the sake of the fic #And debuted at similar times #the judgement day #the bloodline #Mentions of a stabbing and blood #me shipping jey w happiness (aka rhea and dom tbh)

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scullysexual · 9 months ago

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@today-in-fic

Just a thing that has been floating around in my head for a while.

PROLOGUE. 1987.

The axe is weighty in your hand, heavy like a lead pipe. Funny, you didn’t think it weighed as much as it did now back then. It takes all your strength to swing it, the very last of it, hurling it against flesh and bone. Blood spurts everywhere; all over your face, your clothes, your hair. It stains the grey lino floor, the plastic and metal lunch benches. What a mess, you think. A mess you’re now going to have to clean up. You’re annoyed but not at yourself, at him. Him who’s face stares up at you in shock, who’s head is almost decapitated. You hurl up at the display beneath you, your vomit mixing in with his blood. You feel guilty, disgusted, fear gripping at your corners, crippling you as you fall onto the floor and continue to spew your guts out. But you had to do it, you had to save your baby.

Funny, you don’t remember it being your baby’s father that you killed back then.

CHAPTER ONE. 2004.

Dana wakes up with a sudden start. Her heart pounds against her chest, stomach furling and unfurling. She is covered in a sheen of sweat, a typical and usual occurrence lately for July in Maryland. The ceiling fan whirls above her, an annoying old, loud thing, unable to keep the room cool and instead spins humid air around.

It's early, the morning sun streaming through the gap in the curtains but not early enough to warrant being awake. Still, Dana doubts she’ll be able to fall back to sleep, not with the light flooding the room, the pathetic whirl of the fan making too much noise. She watches it spin, spin, spin so fast it makes her feel dizzy all the while trying to stop her brain from thinking, thinking, thinking—

A half grunt half snore pulls her attention away. Dana turns to see Daniel lying next to her. He is naked, laying on his stomach, the thin sheet kicked off him entirely. Her eyes trace down his bare body, lingering on his ass briefly before she moves them back up. She should feel something, desire or attraction or something, instead there’s nothing until she looks at his face again and that nothingness feeling is replaced with disgust. Has he always looked this old, she wonders.

At 57 he certainly wasn’t bad looking he just wasn’t what Dana wanted anymore.

There’s a shrill of an alarm clock. Dana rolls to her side facing away from him and shuts her eyes, feigning sleep. She was good at that, pretending to sleep, could teach a masterclass on it; gently close your eyes, breathe rhythmically, stay still. It could be, of course, that she isn’t that good and Daniel doesn’t care enough to call her out on it.

She listens as he awakens, shutting off the alarm, shifting and rolling. He’s close to her, she can feel his body heat coming off in waves, stifling her. His morning breath breathing on her and she tries not to react. She imagines a hand coming out to brush away the hair that’s fallen over her face, a mouth pressing kisses to her exposed neck and shoulders. She thinks back to when her baby really was a baby and she would wake up to the glorious feeling of his cock inside her, back when all it took was her body, her actions, her words to arouse him. Now he needs pills.

She hears him roll away. The mattress creaks as he gets from the bed, clothes rustle, footsteps move muffled across the carpeted floor. Only when the sound of the bathroom door shutting does Dana relax and reopen her eyes. She doesn’t hold her breath for sex anymore- morning or evening- in many ways she’s glad he doesn’t even try, she thinks she might throw up if he did.

Neither of them have had sex for eight years.

Correction: she hasn’t had sex for eight years. She can’t speak for Daniel and his pills.

Dana lies on her back again watching the fan and thinks about her dream. It’s not a reoccurring dream, not anymore anyway but there was something about the 22nd of July that always brought that dream back. Memories resurfacing, it was the anniversary after all. 17 years ago she survived a night she never should have survived, probably wouldn’t have, if it wasn’t for the baby that she carried inside of her. She thinks of the boy dream-her killed, she wonders where that boy is now.

Man. He is a man now, just as tall, hopefully just as handsome. 36 isn’t old, 36 is perfect and if she thinks back hard enough she can remember what it felt like for him to be inside her. He was well above average, the way he stretched her, splitting her in half in the most incredible way possible. Her panties become damp at the memory, she slips her fingers beneath the material. His mouth was amazing, too. This sticks with her because it was the only time she ever received oral, Daniel pulled a face when she suggested it years ago but didn’t protest at receiving it himself. Her stomach grows sour and she almost dries up at the thought but not today, today she gets her orgasm. She pulls her thoughts away from Daniel and focuses back on the boy, on his mouth, on his fingers, those hazel eyes boring into her blue ones as he fucked her deep and hard in that stinky old shed. She had cum so hard, she remembers. No one comes during their first time but she did, he made her.

Her fingers are a poor substitute for his mouth and cock but she’s almost coming, on the cusps, she just needs something else and then she’ll be released.

“Mommy?”

Dana’s hand stills. She bites back her sigh of frustration and removes her damp hand from the confines of her panties, wiping her fingers are on the bedding as she sits up her eyes finding Luke standing in the doorway. He bites down on his thumb, his bare foot playing with his socked foot. Dana can also see the sheen of sweat that covers his exposed skin, the way his undershirt sticks to him.

“Hey baby,” she greets, letting a genuine smile fall across her face. “Did Daddy wake you up?”

The little boy nods, yawning and rubbing at his eye. Dana holds out a hand. “We’ve still got time. Wanna sleep in here with me?”

Luke goes to her, relishing in the opportunity to be near her. Even at eight, he is still very much a mama’s boy something Daniel finds every opportunity to scoff at, telling Luke that he needs to start ‘manning up’ usually earning a glare from Dana. She doesn’t mind Luke’s attention, at least someone in this family still wants and needs her.

The boy climbs in and despite the humidity snuggles against her. After a few minutes, however, he is pulling away.

“You’re all sweaty,” he says, scrunching up his nose.

“Well so are you,” she answers back and pulls her back towards her anyway.

She needs this today; Luke’s unwavering love for her. He’s the only one who doesn’t know what she’s had to do and she knows it won’t be long until she poisons him as well. How long she has, she can’t say. Boys aren’t like girls, boys don’t get to thirteen and suddenly despise their mothers, boys love their mothers until they find another woman to love. Dana still has time, more time.

Luke falls back asleep for the remaining 35 minutes they have before they do really need to get up. Dana watches him, feeling her heart about to burst with love for this child. She can still feel love, she reassures herself. It isn’t all bad in there.

35 minutes pass and Dana’s alarm goes off. She silences it, rouses Luke awake with the promise of waffles. She takes his hand, guiding him down the stairs to where Daniel is ready for work, waiting around until it is time to leave. She ignores him, giving all her attention to Luke until an elephant stomps its way down the stairs.

“I need you to sign this.” Her eldest child thrusts a crumpled piece of paper into Dana’s hands.

Emily. The baby she committed so many sins for. Now grown up into a teenage monster. She grabs one of Luke’s first batch waffles and sits down at the table waiting.

Dana’s eyes scan the piece of paper. “What is this?” she asks never having seen it before now.

“It’s for camp,” answers Emily.

Dana’s stomach twists as she reads the letter, processing the words even as Emily speaks.

“To be a camp counsellor. Everyone’s doing it; Becky, Amy, Lily- we’ve been discussing it for months. We decided to sign up but we need ‘parental permission’.” She says that last part with air quotes and a roll of her eyes, as if having to ask her parents to do anything was stupid and lame.

“No.” Dana places the form, unsigned, down on the counter. Emily’s face drops.

“What?” she asks in disbelief.

“The answer is no,” Dana repeats. “You’re not going.” Daniel is looking at her with an unreadable expression. Dana briefly locks eyes with him before turning her attention toward the second batch of waffles. Emily, still in disbelief, looks between both parental figures.

“But- but everyone’s doing it,” Emily repeats. “We were gonna share a cabin and everything.”

“The answer is no, Emily,” Dana says still not looking towards her.

Emily looks towards Daniel. “Dad, tell her!”

Daniel shakes his head. “It’s not up to me.” He gathers his bag, beginning to leave.

Dana turns away from the waffles and leans against the counter, her arms crossed. She braves a glance towards her daughter who glares back at her indignantly, angry tears filling her eyes.

“Why do you always have to make my life miserable?” she demands though it’s hard to take seriously through the tears and the sniffling. “What did I ever do you?” With that Emily leaves, elephant stomping her way up the stairs, ending with a violent slam of her bedroom door.

Dana stares into the empty space Emily left behind, numbing herself to the onslaught of emotions that assault her. The toaster pops up Luke’s waffles. They are burnt.

#the x-files #the x files #txf fic #xfiles fanfiction #au #scullysexualwrites

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isfjmel-phleg · 1 month ago

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Random OC Facts: Amarantha (Revised and Updated)

This is a combination of two earlier lists, with some adjustments for things that don't work anymore or have since been contradicted, with the addition of some new facts!

Specializes in portraiture, principally because it involves people and capturing their essence in a single image. Faces and silhouettes appear in the margins of most of her papers and letters.

Is not such a good artist that her father will let her illustrate any editions or serializations of his writings. Maybe when she’s older. She has a lot to learn in the meantime. Provides him with fanart nonetheless, which he pins to the wall by his desk.

Keeps a windowbox of plants with the intention of adding Aesthetic to her room but is not good about remembering to tend them. Feels bad about this (does it make her a murderer on some level?) but still forgets anyway.

By no means socially oblivious but has a tendency to publicly drift into rather intense, harsh facial expressions without meaning to.

Good at sizing people up and is often more or less correct. Not so good at questioning or critiquing her own judgments or realizing that sometimes these conclusions have expiration dates--people change.

Her prize possession is a camera Elystan gave her. She develops all her own pictures and knows (more or less) how to hand-tint them for when black and white doesn’t say enough.

Cannot read, work, draw, or do much of anything else while music is playing (sometimes her father has the phonograph going). Sensory overload.

Generally quiet and withdrawn but gets very outspoken about perceived violations of social appropriateness and tact. Probably too outspoken.

Decent seamstress, as long as she doesn’t get too lost in thought and sew armholes shut or jab herself with the machine, both of which happen embarrassingly often. The family purchases most of their clothing ready-made, but she has made a few pieces that she is proud of.

Beta reader of her father’s stories. Good at catching consistency of theme and characterization. Unfortunately neither she nor her father tend to catch inconsistent details, so these often end up going to print, where Amarantha’s mother will discover them too late.

Excellent at comebacks with about a day or two’s delay. Once telegrammed Elystan her retort about a week later, and he had no idea what she was talking about and shrugged it off.

Has a Plan. Do not throw it off. You will break her.

Perfectionist in the most frustrating, least convenient way. Most of her art is perpetually in progress, never quite right enough for her.

Considers herself the brains of the operation in her creative collaboration with Elystan. Will not say so because he thinks the same of himself.

Combats frustration by painting (as opposed to drawing). It doesn't exactly help, but there's something minorly satisfying about slamming paint on a canvas when what you'd really like to do is slam the canvas over someone's head. Most of her paintings (at least at her current stage of life) have a rather frantic quality because of this angry "technique."

Despite her quietness and few friends, is socially well-adjusted. Can navigate small talk well and converse with her father’s business visitors with grown-up gravitas.

…but is still capable of incredibly childish arguments with Elystan, whom she rivals in being dramatic (she’s just better at hiding it than he is).

Once rearranged all her father's books according to color. The effect was beautiful, which was what she was going for, but he was none too pleased at not being able to locate anything anymore, and he made her restore them to the seemingly random order that he had left them and which somehow made total sense to him.

Takes everything far too seriously. Especially herself.

Has made numerous family portraits featuring her Hedge motif, all a little different. Sometimes the Hedge is blackberry brambles. Sometimes it's ivy. Sometimes the leaves have withered. Sometimes it has attracted a flock of picking, pecking birds. Must mean something. She couldn’t say what.

Acquired her signature pinned-up braid hairstyle as a means of both keeping her hair out of her way when she draws and deterring hair-pulling. Borrowed the hairpins from her mother’s dressing table, and nobody has thought to ask where she got them.

Has developed a taste for comic opera after her father took her to a few matinees of the productions that were popular in his youth. A lot of the humor goes over her head, but she and Levico enjoy (at home, in their spare time) competing for how much of the patter songs they can accurately recall at the greatest speed.

Has taken it upon herself to be the official supplier of morning tea to her mother whenever she’s home, and takes trouble to make it as nice as possible since she’s sure that no one does thoughtful things for Edmara in Elystan’s household. Uses the good china (even though it’s supposed to be only for guests), folds the napkin artistically, decorates the tray with flowers. The result usually looked better in her head, but she’s Trying.

Has embarrassed herself frequently in the classroom by answering the wrong question when called upon, because she has been reading ahead in the textbook instead of listening.

Has paid several excited visits to the Royal Art Gallery with her father, where they talked over the latest movements and artists. As highly acclaimed as Princess Antavia’s work is, she emphatically does not care for it. How much of this is a reflection on the quality of the art or on some nasty things Antavia’s written about Levico isn’t clear. Either way, Amarantha is sure she can do much better.

Aside from her father’s books, is fondest of a bizarre little fairy tale called Alis’s Travels in Peculiaritie and something called The Princess and Her Goblin, which she picked up once from a relative’s collection on a visit and has never been able to find since–which is a pity, because she didn’t get to finish the last three chapters. Has been dreaming about that ending for the last couple of years.

Wants to move to Dorin, Faysmond whenever she becomes an artist. Saw its architecture on a postcard once and fell in love with it. Is sure the entire population of the city must have a deep connection to Art in the abstract–how could you live in such buildings and not?

Is irritated with the lack of color selection in boxes of colored pencils or paints, has strong opinions about what is actually necessary in these, and can rant on this subject indefinitely if given opportunity.

Daughter of a trained nurse but has hardly any concept of first aid or how to respond in a crisis. And would probably lose her head and panic anyway even if she did know.

Used to want a brother or sister, but her parents, when asked why there was only her, explained that sometimes that’s the way things are. Her theory on the matter is that it’s because her mother couldn’t look after Elystan and a new baby; she’s already too tired. This makes sense to Amarantha, and she is resigned to it.

Part of her application process for the scholarship to Queen Edella's School was to write what basically amounted to a cover to Queen Bethira and submit some samples of her work. It was one of the hardest things Amarantha has ever had to do, given her last encounter with Bethira, and she was sure that her application would get declined.

Is the dedicatee of her father's Morrick Hopeley novel, A Composition in Crime, because of some art-related information she was able to provide him with, which helped work out the plot. The dedication read, "To my daughter, Amarantha, without whose expertise my readers would write me indignant letters about my misrepresentation of the art world."

Always carries three pencils, a small blank notebook, a pencil sharpener, and scissors on her.

Writes to her mother once a week, every week, telling her everything. Everything factual, at least. It tends to be a rather glowing picture of the family doings. Does not know that her mother has kept and reread every single letter, or that Elystan is quite familiar with these letters too.

Her favorite painting is, surprisingly, not one by her favorite artist (Teofila), but one by a modern painter, called "The Cloudburst." At a glance, it appears to be a young woman beneath an umbrella caught in a downpour amid a crowd of people. But upon closer examination, the rain is in fact only falling on her, and no one around her seems to notice that anything is unusual. Amarantha saw this painting at a gallery and had to be dragged away from it; her father managed to find a small print for her, which is framed on her bedroom wall.

#The Blackberry Bushes #The Blackberry Bushes OC facts #Amarantha Melbray

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