#Hope you enjoyed it :)

[brontidepng]

3. who is she talking to?

[sazernac]

I have a thing for rhaenyra undoing mysaria’s silk robe and then using the tie to bind mysaria’s wrists bc the idea just comes to her

Mysaria feels Rhaenyra’s heated gaze like flames licking across her skin. She shudders in anticipation of her queen’s touch, nearly moaning at the slight graze of Rhaenyra’s fingers as she slowly undoes the tie of her robe.

“Do you trust me?” Rhaenyra asks softly, her breath ghosting teasingly over Mysaria’s lips.

“Yes.” She replies without hesitation.

The garment slips fluidly from her shoulders, pooling into a silken pile at her feet while Rhaenyra stands in front of her, looking contemplative, still holding the tie as she rakes her eyes appreciatively down Mysaria’s body.

She’s wet, achingly so, and she can tell by the hungry way Rhaenyra bites her bottom lip that she knows it too.

“Turn around.” The queen growls, both a dare and a command. Mysaria does as bid, completely helpless at denying her, gasping softly when she feels Rhaenyra’s calloused palms guiding her wrists across one another before binding them with the tie. She weaves the fabric into an intricate pattern, effectively restraining her, placing Mysaria completely at her mercy.

Rhaenyra’s next words drip with the promise of sin coating each letter, her voice husky and lush as it falls on Mysaria’s waiting ears. “On your knees, sweet lover.”

[ficklecat]

Hatake Clan Lore

I cannot for the life of me remember if I ever posted my Hatake lore head canon but it's been bouncing around in my brain so fuck it here we go -

WARNING: long post ahead, all of this is head canon and none of it is based on anything other than conjecture and ✨vibes✨

also not that I anticipate this but people get touchy about this stuff so - if you disagree with me so strongly that you feel the need to yell at me about it, please save your energy; I literally cannot express to you how disinterested I am in engaging with that kind of thing it's just anime you'll be ok pookie

Clan History

Before the First Shinobi War, the Hatake clan was a largely pacifist group unaffiliated with nation or creed. They started out as nomadic but eventually settled into farming & hunter/gatherer communities across the Land of Fire. Though they had no kekkei genkai develop, they did have some persistent clan traits that were easy to spot. Particularly, ancestral traits of early people would remain dominant through generations instead of recessing, such as sensitivity to smells and seasons, characteristics like coarser hair, sharper teeth, longer nails or limbs, and instincts that aligned with the native fauna. This allowed them to live in harsher conditions than the newly settling villages and clans, gave them the ability to self-sustain and develop natural affinity for the wilds of the elements, and eventually, aided in the use and presentation of various chakra natures in some of their clan members.

The Hatakes were small in number and fiercely independent of other clans and families, despite being extremely tight-knit in their own communities; they were not necessarily unwelcoming, rather, they lived very differently from the newly forming clan powers, and were not interested in the quarrels of man. However, due to their reluctance to ally and the growing strains between larger war clans and families, they didn't stand much of a chance when major conflicts began to arise.

When the first war finally began, the already sparse farming and hunting communities of the Hatake clan became widely dispersed as lands were torn up in battle or claimed by other families; they were displaced or absorbed into warring clans over time - some Hatake had already been taken in by the Senju, while some sought refuge with the Uchiha, only to face each other on the battlefield and recognize their clan members in the heat of battle - the wild hair, the piercing eyes, the way they would fight with teeth and claw and kunai over complex justu or weaponry.

By the time the first war ended, there were very few Hatake left to remain in tact as a clan. Many had died in battle, some had renounced their clan to assimilate into the powerful Senju or Uchiha, and the scarce few that remained had to make a choice - let their clan die out with them, or integrate into another.

Thus began the efforts of the Hatake to affiliate with the growing Inuzuka clan - an ally of the Senju but still independent of them, this clan had roots in the Land of Fire's villages already, and their affinity for canines and comparable clan traits and practices made for an easier approach than some of the more "domesticated" families. Even still, the reluctance of the Hatake to fully submit to the 'new world' and lose their precious way of life was enough to keep them at arm's length from the Inuzuka, their need for freedom clashing with the Inuzuka's desire to serve the new developing nations and hidden villages. As such, the remaining Hatake began to dwindle into disappearance, until there were only a handful left.

Kakashi's Family

This bit is also fully personal head canon and an idea I'd always wanted to turn into fic but could never get right; works better as a hc anyway -

By the time Sakumo and his partner, Hoeru Inuzuka, had Kakashi, the Hatake clan was gone, either fully absorbed into the Inuzuka by way of marriage or willing induction, or killed in action during the Second Shinobi War. Sakumo, along with Sakumo's elderly uncle, Kama Hatake, remained alive around the time of Kakashi's birth. Kama had sustained significant injuries during his service in the war, and had been in decline ever since, unable to recover. He never married and had no surviving family apart from Sakumo, but was extremely close to his nephew and Hoeru, particularly during her pregnancy. Hoeru herself was a fierce matriarchal member of the Inuzuka, but had deep respect for Kama and the Hatake clan's heritage - after all, despite their small size and initial reluctance to integrate, the Hatake had become a major part of the Inuzuka clan over generations, and had helped their clan to grow into a foothold in the Hidden Leaf Village.

Kama himself did his best to impart the importance of keeping their clan's memory alive in Sakumo - he would share stories and techniques passed down from his own uncles and parents, grandparents, elder clan members who had long since passed. He shared the importance of their preserved weaponry like the tanto or the kunai - highly usable, compact, and versatile for farming and hunting as well as in battle. When Hoeru was pregnant, she and Kama would spend a lot of time together, in the garden or inside reading when Kama's health began to worsen. Hoeru insisted he promise to live at least long enough to see the birth of their child, and Kama made good on this promise.

He died three days after Kakashi was born, and in his honor and out of a deep love for Sakumo, Hoeru made the choice to allow her son to keep his Hatake clan name. She and Sakumo planned to teach him the important history of their clan, and how both the Hatake and the Inuzuka had come together to help keep their wild spirit alive.

Unfortunately, Hoeru's death when Kakashi was still an infant left Sakumo heartbroken and hopeless. With his dear uncle and the love of his life both gone, being the last remaining member of his clan aside from his son brought him immense and crushing grief alongside his already significant battle with depression. Still, as the years went on, Sakumo did his best to teach his boy about their clan, and about the importance of belonging while keeping the memory of precious people alive. But the excommunication following that one fateful mission brought the final blow to his despair - and with everyone turning his back on him, with no clan, no lover, and no family, he lost the battle to his grief, leaving the only remaining Hatake clan member to be his son, Kakashi Hatake.

[soulshellcaseart]

Hi hi I'm here with some more content for my little au of the celestial cafe bay! Tho from here I'll be changing the name of the fic I am writing for it to cafe love bites. I'm so very happy to actually have something to share on my silly little fic and I hope you guys will enjoy this little tad bit of the first chapter, that I have to share. However this is my first fic ever so do try not to take it that seriously.

A surprise guest!

 For as long  as you could remember you've always wanted to run a cafe of your own,and help make people's day a little bit better by giving them a place to rest or just help by getting them something to help start their day. Unfortunately the world or the universe, whatever  governs your existence, didn't make achieving that dream easy. A  lot of things were  thrown your way but you finally got your business off the ground! Finally opening up a place called the Celestial cafe bay and so far it's  going pretty decent.a little bit more than you expected but nothing you can't handle,right?..

Wrong. You were very wrong. Everything  was a lot harder to  do alone than you expected, turns out your cafe is a lot more popular than you imagined. You expected to get one to two customers a week ,but not 10 or 20 customers every day of the week! You're  already  struggling to keep up with the supply and demand, having to wake up early every day to set up the cafe,prep and prepare the baked goods. You have to bake bread and cupcakes, put frosting on the pastries , make the bagel sandwiches and sometimes make yourself some  breakfast with a cup of coffee.but who has time to eat breakfast when you have customers to serve. Besides all the money you earn helps pay all the loans you've acquired trying to start up the cafe and a couple small upgrades to the cafe's aesthetic .Should you probably hire someone to help with the cafe? Yes most likely but you hardly have time for that with how you're running the cafe and barely being good at managing your own time , much less someone else's . It's hard to run the cafe by yourself  but you guess this is what you should expect running a business by yourself. Especially when you have a hard time getting to sleep ,so you fall asleep on the couch watching tv most nights. 

    So here you are again waking up on the couch, with the tv  still running. You feel groggy and disgruntled with  dried  saliva on your face. Pushing yourself up, your body makes its protests known as the joints of your hands and elbows  ache. You groan, wiping the sweat off your  brow  before reaching  for the remote and turning off the Tv. 

 You get up with a stretch before making your way to the stairs to start your day.Making your way to the kitchen you hear The whirl of the winds followed by sounds of the heavy pitter patter of the storm outside. You yawn , walking into the kitchen flipping the switch next to the door frame .Pushing back the curtain, you enter the room.  passing by the tall and lanky figure in your kitchen, to close the window blocking out the sound of the pouring rain outside. now hearing the subtle whirring and clicks of the fans of something Similar to a sound that you would think an animatronic would make. But you didn't leave a fan on did you? Wait actually you don't have a fan at all in the kitchen , last you checked. So where's that sound coming from?..

You blink and yawn, rubbing out the sleepiness that lingers in your eyes before turning around and finally fully acknowledging the tall ass animatronic that was standing right behind you. Staring up at it now you feel almost speechless and dumb founded, as you watch the Sun-like animatronic come to life. Stunted by this sudden turn of events you are unable to find the words to speak as its eyes settle on you . Feeling the air rise with tension the longer you both stare at each other in shock and bewilderment. You fumble as you try to speak still trying to wrap your head around the situation only managing a small squeak before it screams and you scream in turn started by it screaming and confusion as to how it got here.you point at it, stumbling back a little barely missing the puddle behind you as it settles in that there's a animatronic in your kitchen! Your scream rising a pitch as the life from its eyes flicker out, falling back as it's scream was cut short. You stumble back nearly tripping over yourself in the process, falling back into the big puddle of water by the window.

[kcuf-ad]

Yami: Wait.... can you explain one more time?

Mai: Okay, so this is my boyfriend Shinchi...

Kenneth: Right....

Mai: And this is my girlfriend Nobara.

Yami: I thought you were straight...

Mai: Oh I am, she is an exception.

Kenneth: I am going to act like I understood that.

Nobara: And these two doofuses *points to Megumi and Yuji ordering food* are my boyfriends.

Giana: So... you are dating those two, who are perfectly fine fine with that... and then she is dating two guys at the same time, who are also fine with that.

Mai: Pretty much, yeah.

Giana:...okay...

Lolopechka: It is really not that difficult to understand.

Yami: You are not allowed to speak. The last time you tried to explain your situation, you gave me aneurysm.

Giana Silverstone, Mai Silverstone and Shinchi (I think?) belong to @artistic-endchamber

[gwinverarrouz]

Folktale week 7: Found

This one is very loosely inspired by The Wild Swans, by Hans Christian Andersen (and also a call back to day 1: Lost, of course~)

[the-worms-in-your-bones]

ok, so, loved the episode, but i genuinely thought that they were going to leave donna behind for a minute and now i can't stop thinking about an alternative ending based on that

so basically the doctor doesn't realize in time that the donna on the tardis isn't actually donna. he goes back to switch the donnas but it's not in time, he manages to push her out of the tardis but the explosion is too close to be able to actually look for donna, but in the short glimpse the doctor is able to get he doesn't see her

it turns out that the toymaker saw the doctors shenanigans and took donna to taunt him, that's why she wasn't on the ship. he goes back to earth, preparing himself to tell donna's family that she's gone but gets interrupted by the toymaker fucking around on earth. this is where the doctor realizes that she's not dead, but is instead being held captive by the toymaker so that the doctor will play his games. cue flashbacks to the events of divided loyalties

[lilacwriter07]

Adam apple kids name Apple and Lily

Lily walks into the car sitting they're scared

Adam : hey sweetie we had to wait a minute for your sister to get out of her band practice

Lily in her head : no yelling no lecture he's not going to even say anything about it wait a minute he didn't get a call from the principal he doesn't know what happened that's not right he needs to know it's got this spot in my arm for nothing

Lily takes a deep breath: look what Jeremy did to me

Adam sees a bite mark on his daughter's rest

Adam: oh hell no

oh I think I saw the video of it on youtube ! I don't remember much of it, so I go my own may with it .

Apple hurried her way to the car, before she hears yelling coming from the principal's office . She snickers some loser is getting their butt kicked .

But she stops as she hears her dad's voice ."And how in the fucking hell ! Do ! You ! Think ! Speaking ! To ! Me ! Like ! That !" With every word a fist sound slam can be heard outside .

The door opens with a smiling Lilly walking out, and her dad his fist covered in blood ."Next time you even breath in Lilly or Apple's way, I am coming for your fucking kneecaps kid ."

Jeremy shaking as his dad lay bloody beaten on the floor, the Principal shaking as a leaf not even daring to move .

"Apple !" Lilly run up to her sister hugging her, as Apple stares at Adam's fist ."Does it hurt ."

"No .. Come on we are getting burger queens."

"But didn't daddy say .."

"He will shut up when he gets his crown ."

[willsimpforazula]

Sokkla Saturday Wk 3: Earth

My humble submission for sokkla saturday 2023 week 3. not quite good enough to put up on AO3 or FFN, but good enough to make it to tumblr, ig. very heavily inspired by Pictures of the Past, figured it could sorta work for when the kids start asking questions about what did mom do in the EK during the 100 years war *ps: there is the word 'earth' in the fic so that counts as meeting the theme *pps: TalesofOnyxBats is a goated Sokkla writer no cap fr anyways...... ******* It was going to happen at some point, they figured. After all, they figured that their kids had inherited enough intellect between the two of them to put two and two together. Or at least, have a good theory as to why everytime they travelled to Ba Sing Se (which wasn't often, but enough for them to have a semi decent idea of what the Upper Ring looked like.), their mother would often meet them at their granduncle's tea shop in disguise. Or why they would stay in the United Republics' embassy grounds instead of the Earth King's palace, among other questions.  __________________________________

Airship Lounge

Somewhere over Full Moon Bay

If it was any consolation, when the question finally came they were travelling in their private airship instead of on the ground in Ba Sing Se itself.

"Mom?" 

"Yes Miska?"

"Why do you need to put on disguises every time we go to Ba Sing Se?"

"Well…-"

"Also why can't we stay at the Earth King's palace? Aunt Katara and Uncle Aang and their family always stay there." Risa asked. 

Turning to her husband, Azula shot him a glance, which Sokka immediately understood. Taking a deep breath, she answered "Meet me in our room in 10 minutes.". 

"But wh-"

"We'll answer your questions then." Sokka cut them off, his voice taking on a serious tone that Risa and Miska understood to mean I will not repeat myself.  _________________________________

Azula and Sokka's bedroom

"Sokka?" Azula asked, her gaze fixed on the carpet of their room. 

"W-what do I tell them?" Azula asked nervously, simultaneously wanting to tell her kids the truth while not wanting to tarnish their image of her. 

Taking her hands in his, Sokka replied "As much or as little as you think they need to know. It's your story to tell, not mine."

"You were there when…-"

"We didn't know any better, Azula. Whatever you choose, know this: I will always still love you." he replied, kissing the back of her hand. __________________________________________ __________________________________________

Meanwhile, outside their room…

"Riri?"

"Do you think mom and dad are mad at us?"

"I-I don't think so." 

"You saw how mom reacted right? D-d-do you think we shou-"

"If we did they would have shut it down immediately, not ask us to see them in 10 minutes."

"I suppose you have a point."

"Once again, your big sister proves that she is always right." 

"Uh huh…like dating both Min Seok and Sakura clearly wasn't going to lead to…whatever that was."

"A momentary lapse in judgement." she handwaved, not eager to relive that particular set of memories.

"So you say, so you say. I suppose there is no reason to delay any longer?" Miska replied, giving their parents' cabin a quick few raps.

"Mom? Dad?"

"Come in."

Closing the door behind them, the twins waited with bated breath for whatever their parents had to say. "First off," Azula began,  "both of you aren't in trouble. That said, please stay back after this Risa, your father and I have some things we would like to discuss regarding how you conduct your…relationships.", to which Risa swallowed a gulp.

"But back to the topic at hand, what I am about to tell you is only for your ears alone and no one else outside this room. Do I make myself clear?"

When the twins nodded, she continued, giving Sokka's hand a squeeze as she did so. "How much of the Hundred Years War did your teachers tell you about?"

"Um…only that dad was part of the team that defeated the Fire Nation and ended it? Oh and that the Fire Nation staged a coup that toppled Ba Sing Se in a single night and occupied it for six months." Miska answered.

"Mom?"

"Yes Risa?"

"Were you the one who staged the coup and overthrew Kuei?"

"I wasn't alone in that, but yes, I was the one who planned and carried it out, among other things." Azula replied, before briefly explaining what had happened that night in the palace, though there were details that she omitted, choosing to set that aside for another time. If nothing else, they deserve to at least hear my side of the events, she thought.

With bated breath, she leaned against Sokka, a fluttering sensation in her stomach as she hoped against hope that her kids wouldn't outright disassociate themselves from her given her past or worse, hate her for her actions (who could blame them, really, she thought).

As the silence continued, Azula felt the urge to fill the space growing within her and just as she could no longer resist, they stood up and wrapped her in a hug, taking her by surprise as they let their simple action speak on their behalf. At this, her eyes started to tear as her worst fears proved unfounded and she hugged her kids tightly in response, even as Sokka wrapped his arms around them all. 

"Thank you Risa, Miska." she whispered.

[cytryndor]

So, remember when I said I might write a little scene of Oliver's coming out (more to us, an audience, than anyone else)(kind of)? Here it is, with special dedication to @elizmanderson

[SCENE: Some fancy-schmancy Broadway related event. OLIVER, MABEL and CHARLES are standing in the middle of room and camera view. OLIVER's really excited, looking around and just glowing, feeling (and looking) like a kid in a candy store. MABEL is sipping her wine, and CHARLES just don't want to be there, but is still awkwardly smiling, in his usual Charles-way. OLIVER notices someone, and turns his attention toward that person]

Oliver: Well isn't it Patti LuPone, as I live and breathe!

Patti: Oliver!

[PATTI hugs OLIVER like you would hug your not-so-close friend, or a coworker; she's using just one arm, holding a glass of wine in the other. After that, OLIVER puts his arm around her shoulder, and turns towards his friends]

Mabel: You two seem to know each other.

[MABEL says that more to her glass than them, looking somewhere else. OLIVER does not care about that, and picks up her comment]

Oliver: Oh yes, we do know each other. You see, when I wasn't such a failure of a man, way back in the seventies-

Patti: Come on, Oliver, you were never a failure to me. I have never missed any of your premieres, no matter how more off-off-off Broadway they were getting.

Oliver: Oh, I know. You made everything to let me know what you thought of my plays.

[Although still in cheerful manner, the last line was pretty sour. PATTI does not care, or simply doesn't notice, and continues]

Patti: Well, it's not my fault that your musicals were getting worse and worse. It was that boyfriend of yours who put his money into producing them.

Oliver: Oh don't you bring Teddy into this, you Wicked Witch of the West. And even if, our plays were magical, [and, a bit quieter, adds] at the beginning at least.

Patti: Of course they were, honey.

[She looks at CHARLES]

Patti: Hey, is your friend over here good? Is that... Blood?

Mabel: Oh my god, Charles-

Oliver: Come on, Charles-Haden Savage, I know Patti is undeniably a big deal, but we just met Mel Brooks and you didn't had that much of reaction-

Charles: Teddy? As in, Teddy Dimas?

[MABEL presses her lips together, looking at rest of her company. OLIVER does not have time to respond, as PATTI answers]

Patti: Oh, yes! They were inseparable back in the days. But then, this Roberta came in-

Oliver: -and the rest is history! Listen Patti, I think I saw Glenn Close coming this way, how about you're gonna find Andrew and threaten him with lawsuit again?

Patti: Charming as always, Putnam.

[PATTI smiles one last time, and walks off. MABEL's lets out a breath she didn't even realize she was holding; OLIVER is still smiling in the direction that PATTI went, and CHARLES is wiping off blood from under his nose]

Charles: What on Earth was that?

Oliver: What was?

Charles: You have never mentioned that you're into men!

[A moment of silence, OLIVER is looking at CHARLES like he's not understanding something]

Oliver: ...that what's shocking you?

Oliver: Not the fact that I was with Teddy Dimas of all people, but the fact that I enjoy sleeping with men?

Charles: Well, it's not like you ever told us that you're into-

[Before CHARLES says something stupid, MABEL cuts in]

Mabel: I mean, I knew.

Charles: What? When did he told you?

Mabel: Never. I mean, have you seen this [she points at OLIVER with her glass of wine still in hand] man?

Oliver: Thank you.

[Still shocked, OLIVER leans forward slightly, as if bowing. Move's unnecessary and almost not noticable if you'd blink, but it's still there]

Mabel: And anyway, when did you came out as straight to us, Charles?

Charles: I mean, why would I do that?

Mabel: Wow. That is so straight of you.

[END OF SCENE, at least as of now. Don't have an idea for the rest yet, but there might be something]

[drifting-pieces-blog-blog]

Nothing and Everything - Part 9

Nothing and Everything - Part 9 

Summary: Certain times of the year are harder than others. This is the first year where they have all been present to face the memories of all the trauma. How can they come together when they each have their own traumas to face?

Pairings: Gen fic (they love Layla and she loves them)

Warnings: Heavy dissociation, Mentions of child abuse, some mentions of violence, Depression, mentions of self harm, PTSD, mentions of hospitalization.

Word Count: 2422

Part Nine: Epilogue - The first steps are never easy, but perhaps they can lead somewhere better than this.

Previous Chapter HERE

It was hard not to resort to old measures. 

It was so unimposing, but it was the fear of what was inside that made him want to run the most. Or, if he was being honest with himself, the fear of what he imagined to be there. 

As a child, the fear was of those who did not understand. Who tried to kill him with so called ‘science’ and ‘medicine’. 

When they were already in pain and suffering, those that claimed to help only caused further trauma and pain. 

Now, a deep seated mistrust existed and a memory that woke him up time and time again. 

The fear had spread and worries, rational or otherwise, trickled down through the system like a toxic fog that hindered their ability to function. 

I will do this. I need to do this. 

Jake set the expectation that he would not run. He would be the one to walk in and he would be the one to sit through the meeting. 

But if you would not mind waiting with me…

He made space for Steven and Marc. He was realistic. If he tried to run, he fully expected them to stop him. If he dissociated into space and beyond, they would take over and guide him back down later. 

They would not force it. Steven had made that very clear when the decision was made. If it became too hard and too painful, he would take them home. 

Layla waited at home for them with a large comforter on the couch to snuggle into when they were done. She called it ‘after care’. Something Marc had rolled his eyes at, but that had been very important to her. 

She had insisted that she make them a good cup of spiced tea, curl up with them in the blanket, and that they would sit in the quiet of the evening when they got home. 

A hand found his shoulder and squeezed gently. “Are you ready, Jake?” 

Jake looked to Jean-Paul then sighed. “Let’s get this over with.” 

Why is it always in a basement? Marc grumbled as they walked into the old creaky building that looked like it had seen better days. And why is there always that smell? 

It smelled of old cigarette smoke and mildew, though no one had smoked in that building for decades now and it seemed relatively dry. There was a folding table with bad burnt coffee, stale donuts, and fliers with dates to other events. 

Jake passed by the refreshments but stuffed a flier in his pocket. If this went well enough, perhaps he could convince himself to come back. 

The people around him were not what he expected. 

Old faces, with wrinkles and thin skin hiding the bones of young soldiers that could no longer carry the weight of unspoken memories. Young faces of men and women that had done and seen too much for their short time on this earth. A few were his age, wearing patches and tattoos that spoke of the world they had traveled. 

All had tired eyes with deep circles under them. Some had scars that were visible. Others were missing parts of them that had been left behind on blood soaked fields. 

Jean-Paul filled a paper cup with the terrible coffee and guided them over to a plastic folding chair that was deeply uncomfortable. 

It was too hot in the windowless room and it felt cramped and dirty. 

Jake picked out the patches and hats that advertised veteran status. They were proud of the time they had served. A reminder to those around them that they were heroes. Or, perhaps a reminder to be gentle. They had been through a never ending war and one must speak softly to be heard over the memory of gunfire. 

Marines. Marc pointed out a man near the front of the room. I know that unit. Might even have served with him once or twice. Ask him if he lost the leg in Pakistan. I knew a guy that lost a leg.

You will do no such thing! Steven hushed Marc and gave him a scandalized bit of British muttering. 

Jake’s leg started to jiggle as he struggled not to give into his basic nature. “I’m fine.” He muttered to himself. “I’m safe. We’re safe.” 

“First meeting?” A man next to him spoke up. The man had a white beard and thick glasses. He could be anyone’s grandpa. Soft in the cheeks and heavy in the gut. 

Jake looked him over quickly. 

The man waited for Jake to decide he wasn’t a threat. “I’ve been out for over fifty years. I still wake up at least three times a week thinking I’m somewhere else. Vigilance and caution saved my life. It’s hard to put that bit away, isn’t it?” 

Jake frowned then nodded. “I’m not sure I’m supposed to be here.” 

“You serve?” The man gave him a sideways look. 

“Yeah.” Jake felt Marc start to slip in as his accent thickened. It was Marc who felt ashamed to be there. To be in the room with those who had served properly and done good. Marc who felt his time as a mercenary left him with a dark mark that meant he should be shunned from being around others. 

“Then you belong.” The man sipped his coffee. 

“You don’t know what I did.” Marc muttered. “Trust me. I don’t belong.” 

“You ever held a flame thrower?” The man looked at him seriously. 

Marc hesitated. “No. It’s-” 

“It’s banned by the Geneva convention now.” He looked down and a far away look that Marc instantly recognized drifted across his face. “You belong just as much as the rest of us. Only one exception.” 

Marc gave the man a hard look. “What’s that?” 

“You a Nazi?” 

“Of course not! I’m-” Steven was appalled by the very notion. 

The man laughed and patted him on the back. “Welcome to the meeting.” 

They settled in, listening to the opening speech by the lead therapist. They spoke about the difficulties of quiet and peace. 

Jake sat with his arms crossed, attentive but also doing his best not to draw any attention or let the others do anything to make those around him think they were crazy. He knew what happened when others saw them as such. 

Jean-Paul raised his hand and Jake’s attention dialed in as his friend shared a piece of himself. 

“Last night I woke up weeping. No bad dreams or stress. No anxiety or even anything that triggered any memories. I could not stop the tears for at least an hour. It was not the first time.” He sat forward, arms on his knees as he looked down at the ground. 

The ground had never garnered so much attention as it did in this small basement with ghost ridden eyes seeking something solid that had always been there for them. 

“This is where the quiet slips in.” One of the organizers spoke up. “You have spent so much time in a state of constant hypervigilance that it’s hard to let anything else through. Stay alert and you stay alive. When the threat is gone, you are still alert. You still keep your guard up and all other emotions sit on the sidelines. When you are finally able to accept that there is nothing hidden in the quiet that poses a threat, it can get quite loud, can’t it?” 

“Deafening.” Jean-Paul sighed. 

“Same with peace. We don’t yet know how to live with peace. We expect violence every second of every day. Threats everywhere. Hidden IEDs with every step, rigged trucks and cars on the side of the road, people with guns and knives waiting to jump out at us any time we walk into an unfamiliar area. When the threats go away and we accept that we are safe, that is when you can finally experience all the other things that you have been avoiding or unable to feel. Grief, loss, anger, fear. They can finally be released from that vice grip and overwhelm you.” The guide looked to all the faces, many of which were nodding. 

Jake put his hand up before he realized he wanted to. The speaker nodded to him and Jake took a moment, shrinking back in his seat a little. “What about… Trauma? Past trauma. Before the military. Why would that come out now?” 

“Most of us joined because of trauma.” A young man in the front snapped then looked sheepish. “Didn’t have anything else to do. Join or get fuck, you know?” 

“Running from trauma and into more trauma.” A woman behind him agreed. “Stay at home and die or go over there and die. What difference did it make? Only this way I got to make the call and fight back.” 

Jake relaxed just a little. 

“I hope none of you are still in those situations. I hope you are all in a safe place now and know that this is a safe place.” The therapist spoke up again. “But now you are in a difficult spot. Fight or flight has kept you going. You fled those situations and learned to fight. Now you no longer have to fight or run. As you and the body realize you are safe, it can now start to unwrap and deal with your past traumas. Your mind is trying to process at long last. Your current situation is over, so now it feels like old scars and old traumas are being dug up out of the blue. I promise you, it’s not out of the ordinary. It feels random, but trauma is trauma. Trauma can mask other trauma.”

It’s because we’re safe. Steven agreed. For the first time, all three of us are safe. All three of us… And we all hold our own trauma. Now that we’re talking… We’re sharing memories and sharing our trauma. 

“Great. How do we stop it?” Jake muttered. 

“You don’t.” The therapist looked at Jake and Jake looked away, embarrassed to have been heard. “The more you try to suppress it, the harder it will be to deal with. I’m not saying to face it all head on, either. Processing in a healthy way is not easy and difficult to do. Some of you are going to need outside help. I can recommend trauma specialists if you see me after the meeting.” 

The room was quiet, each one lost in their own thoughts. 

“Every one of you has trauma. You didn’t come here because you’re coping well back in civilian life and are looking for a good time. You’re here because of difficulties returning to normal life, grief, loss, anger, or looking for someone to relate to. Loneliness can be very damaging. I would encourage you all to make connections here if you can. Find someone to talk to. Someone to share your experiences. It isn’t everyone in the world that can speak the lingo and understand what it means when you say you lost a brother in arms.” 

Jake glanced over at Jean-Paul. Jean-Paul crying alone in the dark of the night and not knowing why. A man years sober and still seeking help while also offering to help them. 

He reached out and lay a hand on his arm gently, giving him a soft squeeze. 

Jean-Paul looked over at him and smiled. He patted his hand on his and squeezed back. Maybe they could face and deal with some of their issues together. 

–

“And then we talked about tips for dealing with flashbacks and triggering events.” Steven prattled excitedly to Layla, curled in the blanket nest she had built on the couch. “They even talked about dissociation a little! I mean, different from our type, but not by a lot. The kind used to escape stress or dealing with real world problems. Apparently the sense of smell can be a huge help! Jake’s going to get one of those car tree things that make everything smell like pine.” 

Layla smiled and sipped her tea. “It sounds like it was a good meeting. Do you think it will help?” 

“It can’t hurt, right?” Steven pulled a blanket closer. “I think Jake wants to go again. Marc said he was open to it. I think Marc wants to talk to some of the older guys. We met one that chatted to us a bit.” 

Steven was quiet for a moment as he settled down at last and thought about the things they had learned. “I think it will get worse before it gets better. We have to accept that and prepare for it. The more we learn about one another and our past, the more things are going to come up. Jake has agreed to stop hiding things from us. Within reason, of course. He said he’ll still keep the real nasty things away. There’s only so many nightmares we can handle at a time, right?” 

Layla nodded, deep in thought. “It will take time. Is there anything I can do to help?” 

Steven looked at her, feeling sorry for the future her that would have to wake to their nightmares in the middle of the night. To the her that would find them crying without reason. To the her that may have to travel to strange towns to collect them again and again. He felt sorry that she would have to witness their pain as it unraveled before her. 

“Be you.” He moved to lean into her, resting his head against her shoulder. “Don’t let yourself get lost in our pain. Push us to remember that you are a person too. That you have your own trauma and sorrow.” He felt Marc’s guilt and Jake’s fear. “Make space for yourself too. Don’t let me take up the life. You deserve to live as much as the rest of us.” 

“Steven…” She kissed his forehead gently and nestled into him under the blanket fort. “Whatever comes next, I’ll be there.” 

Steven didn’t know what would be next. If it would be enough to heal or if they were even capable of healing. They had to try, though. They had gone too long floating in the nothing. It was time to place the nothing behind them. 

They all squeezed Layla’s hand gently. Maybe this was what waited for them beyond the nothing. Maybe moments like this, filled with tea and blankets and soft and quiet and gentleness… Maybe this was everything. 

Steven hoped so. Maybe everything wasn’t so bad after all. 

[seyaryminamoto]

Fic-to-Art #24: Sokka holds Azula before the destroyed Bloodlust Spear

As some of you may have noticed, my patrons are a little bit wild and they just thrive in angst :'D This month's prompt for the artwork was "cliffhanger", and the winning option in the poll was the cliffhanger from chapter 226: Azula had taken the most dangerous wound she'd sustained in the entire story. Even then, she managed to destroy the Bloodlust Spear. The corruption of the spear affected her once the weapon was broken... and the consequences were almost deadly.

Things have certainly been really hard for our girl ever since that day... but at least she has recovered to a degree from this very serious wound. The specific cliffhanger for that chapter, though, is the moment when Sokka holds Azula in desperation, not knowing what to do and how to save her in the middle of this life-or-death situation she's in.

This artwork isn't a 1:1 depiction of what I saw in my mind when I wrote that scene, but honestly? It's surprisingly close to that. And I don't say that lightly x'D things just fell into place, and as much as it hurts to draw my girl hurting, and to draw my boy suffering for her fate, I really hope I conveyed both how fragileAzula she was in these circumstances, and how anguished Sokka was, too. Expressiveness in art is difficult, it really is...

If you want to be part of the creative process behind these pieces, a $1 pledge on Patreon will allow you to participate in it by suggesting prompts and voting on the monthly poll, as well as reading early snippets for each upcoming chapter!

[florbelles]

not making a not posting a sile mix actually just sharing my wrapped it’s the same thing

embarrassing

[sularis]

The library I used to study in had many secrets, which for some reason I could see happen in bright daylight or in chilling moonlight. It frightened me at first to see blurry caricatures of spirits pass between the alleys or searching for a book they desired to read, but the more I spent in that place, the clearer I could see them, hear them.

Overbloom library was the only library in my city that was both close to my apartment and I could easily get to there from my university. It wasn’t very popular, probably due to being very old, but it still had few loyal patrons who visited it regularly. I wouldn’t have guessed I’d become one of them, until my first exam was around the corner. I remember entering it at five in the afternoon and seeing a middle-aged gentleman greet me with a warm smile. The air inside smelled of amber and aged papers, it felt incredibly welcoming, as if I just entered a place I could call a second home.

After I told the owner why I had come there, he enthusiastically clapped his hands and showed me around the place. From the moment we started walking, I could sense something wasn’t quite right, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. He walked me through majority of isles, even showed me how to get on the platforms high above us, which was indeed sweet of him. Once my tour was over, the man showed me a cozy corner in which I could study as much as I pleased. With a thankful bow I left my bag on one of the seats and began venturing around alchemy isles and picking the books I thought would have everything I needed to know for my exam. That’s when I started spotting weird shadows creeping around the corner, hiding when I turned my head around. As spooky as it was, I decided not to mind it and continued doing what I came there to do. Throughout my whole session I heard incomprehensible whispers around me and saw gusts of darkness emerge and then once again disappear into the shelves. I don’t know how I managed to stay in there until ten in the night, but after checking out I made it clear to myself that I will not be returning there for the life of me.

Well was I wrong.

I nailed the exam I was preparing for with some additional points and props from my headteacher thanks to the knowledge I got from the old books in that library. Everyone in my year kept asking me how I managed that with our professor, when he often took points away when even just one name of a herb was spelled incorrectly. I shared with them where I studied for that exam and they all looked back petrified at me.Turns out what I saw at the library wasn’t just one-time kind of thing, it’s been all that library’s known for. Everyone who I knew avoided it and by the end of it they all told me to do as they as well. They’d tell me that the more you stay there the angrier the spirits get, some claimed that your spirit will get trapped there as the others if you check in regularly. Apparently none of the ghosts could be recognised even by the experts, who specified in spirit sighting. That’s why many stayed away from that establishment, from fear of the unknown.

But the more they shared their terrifying testimonies with me, the more curious about the situation at that place I was. Right after my last class I got into the trolley and went right down to that library. When I entered the smell of amber once again overwhelmed my senses and brought me a feeling of being welcomed. The middle-aged gentleman looked surprised when he saw me at his place again, but greeted me warmly nevertheless. Without any hesitation I asked him whether the legends about this place were true, I recalled what I saw and heard when I last stayed here and what my friends said. As he listened his smile gradually faded from his face and a solemn expression replaced it. Once I was done, he sighed helplessly and replied with “So that’s what they think of this place...”. He then patiently explained to me what was going on.

His grandfather founded it back when he first moved into what was once a small town named Lischtenver. Every book that occupies the shelves was brought in by him or later his son - the current owner’s father. Back then, that place flourished with many visitors, even some from overseas, coming to see and get a grasp of the collection his grandfather had to his name. It was so popular even mystical beings sometimes showed up after hours, he welcomed them warmly as well. The man said “He had this saying: ‘No matter who, no matter where from, as long as they yelp for knowledge they’re welcome to stay as long as they wish.’ Some, apparently took it a bit too much to heart.” He told me that his grandfather wasn’t sure when, but one day he noticed lost souls wandering through his establishment. They weren’t clear in anyway, but they observed the shelves with high curiosity. More and more of them started appearing as the time went by and many of them wouldn’t leave once they settled in. His grandfather didn’t mind and took them in, as they wouldn’t be much of an expense for him anyways and over time, he could see them more clearly, he could spot details in their faces and he could hear them, interact with them. He grew close to them and so they did to him, but the presence of the dead wasn’t as warmly welcomed by others. Many weren’t understanding about the ghosts and did everything in their power to distance themselves from any contact with them, some went as far to try and get rid of them for good, but the owners all as the decades went by stood for the ghosts and wouldn’t kick them out, as they had become an important part of the library’s society. Due to this, the more ghosts appeared, the less living people wanted to go to that library, which ended up in it becoming very quickly the least visited place in the city. Many bigger, better libraries took its position and what they were left with was ghosts and few patrons, not afraid to stay in with them.

When I asked him who were the ghosts roaming the place, he said he didn’t know. “They all come here as lost souls, only knowing their name and how old they were when they died, but even that sometimes isn’t clear to them. It depends how long they were dead for and how much consciousness they still have. It appears to me that they’ve all come here to figure out what exactly could’ve happened to them since the ones who seemed to figure it out hadn’t been seen around here for a while.” With that explanation, I looked down into one of the isles, catching a glimpse of a shadow hiding from my sight. “They’re shy” the man said “They had a lot of going on for them over the years. Many people yelling at them and disturbing their peace - they’ve grown wary of the living.” 

I’m unsure what I had in my mind at the time, but something told me to stay. Stay and at least see what happens. And so I did.

From that day on I visited the library as often as I could, walking through the isles, looking for the spirits and slowly getting more used to the always present sense of being watched. After my classes, I only would go there, apart from weekends, as they were reserved for social activities with my friends. The owner was very touched by the fact that I wanted to learn more and possibly help the spirits find themselves among the pages of old books they so often stared at, he hadn’t seen many people my age be so eager to do that. And I myself was very happy to have a nice place to spend my free time in, although it wasn’t my home per say, it gave me a sense of belonging I haven’t felt in a while. I grew more and more familiar with the dark shadows, silhouettes appearing in the corner of my eyes and I could even differentiate between whispers of certain souls. I was getting adapted to being there and they were starting to get adapted to me as well.

One day, as I was heading once more towards the alchemy section of the library, I noticed a dark shadow standing alone in one of the isles. It didn’t disappear when I looked at it, so I got curious and slowly wandered towards it. Before I knew I was standing right beside it and trying to determine what they were looking at. Not being sure, I asked “Which one would you like to read?”. With slight hesitation, the shadow stretched one of its arms and pointed at a book named “Secrets of orchids” written by Leyroy Farfender. I took the book into my hand and looked at the cover. A horror novel, depicting gruesome body-horror of orchids growing out of skulls of liars, causing the person terrible pain, but pulling them out would mean instant death to them, as they would pull out their brain. “You wrote this?” I asked the shadow. A hushed, but saddened voice responded: “I never got to finish it...”. In that moment, before me was standing a see through silhouette of a man in max his late forties, with the roots of his hair being grey, while the rest was still in a beautiful, dark brown shade. His clothes were from at least fifty years ago, seemed like they were what he was buried in.

“I was in the middle of writing it, but an illness overcame me and forced me to succumb to death... They published it even when it wasn’t complete... I never got to write the ending... The ending...” he repeated the last part a few more times before I was able to compose myself enough to find a proper response.

“What did you want to write as an ending?” I asked while clutching his book to my chest. He looked at me meaningfully for a moment, but before long he lowered his head once again.

“There’s no point in doing so now... The novel was already published... What would it change?...” with that, he turned around and disappeared into thin air.

A new sense of sadness and excitement filled me on the inside from that encounter. I returned to my studies with sympathy for the poor man, who had big plans for his book, but wasn’t able to fulfill them in his lifetime. But even with the sadness that event brought me, it gave me a sense of accomplishment. After all, it was the first time I had a full out conversation with a spirit and got something from it. I wanted to learn more about the man, so before checking out I rented “Secrets of orchids” and decided to engulf myself in the lecture of it.

I didn’t realise just how grossly creative Mr. Farfender had been when writing it, as much as the first few chapters gave me the sense of uneasiness, the rest of the book caused me nausea from just the mention of that horrid flower. And as Mr. Farfender told me, the book ended on a cliffhanger that would never be explained to anyone anymore. The last few pages were filled with reviews of the book in the place of an ending. Many of them showed disappointment with the fact that they will never know what happened to the poor fool with flowers sticking out of his head, a lot of them criticised people for even letting this book out when it was unfinished. That must’ve been the cause for his poor state when I asked him about it. I wanted to make things right.

I returned to the isle I first talked with him with and called out to him. He didn’t respond at first, but after few more tries, he suddenly appeared in front of me. “What is it that you want, young lass?” he asked in the same solemn tone I last heard of him. I explained to him that I’ve read his book and was simply dying to know what happened to the main character. He looked at me with suspicion in his eyes, after which he asked me a bunch of questions about the book. I answered all of them flawlessly, all while watching as his eyes begin to beam with more and more happiness than I’ve ever seen.

“Oh, you’ve read it!... You’ve read it all!...” he exclaimed as he grinned widely at me, his loud voice could be heard throughout the whole library “And you’ve liked it!... Or so it seems, you truly liked it!...”

He clasped his hands together, his joyous expression lighting up the whole room. In both metaphorical and literal ways too, as his see-through being, before appearing dark-grey and shady, now beamed in a delicate but bright pastel baby blue, making him a somewhat of a light source in my closest vicinity. Seeing him be this ecstatic made me feel a pleasant warmth inside my heart.

“Would you be so kind to tell me, what happened to the poor boy with orchids, sir?” I asked him the moment I got the chance to. He hesitated and looked at me warily, but soon after a warm smile appeared on his face.

“You really want to hear it, lass... I suppose... I won’t leave you in the dark, no more...” he said very softly, almost as if he was whispering, after which he walked pass me, towards where I came to search for him from. Without a word I knew he wanted me to follow him, and so I did.

We made our way to the table I usually sat at, he visibly knew where I hang out most already, if he hadn’t learned it himself other must have told him. We sat down next to each other and his tale began. As if he had repeated everything in his head for the last fifty or so years, he lead me through the last chapters of his book flawlessly. His voiced was perfectly suited for narration, it allowed me to easy daze off and see everything happening as he said in my mind, to the exact detail. I don’t know at what point I closed my eyes but the next moment I opened them, I could see a bunch of new faces around us, some young some old but all were fixated on us - him to be precise. Before I knew it I could count more than thirty new spirits joining us in this tale-telling thing, they all crowded to look at us, some inspected me curiously while others grasped their chests listening to the solemn tale of the poor fool, deciding his own fate once and for all. The book had a saddening ending, with the main character plucking the orchids out of his skull on the front door of his lover’s cabin. All we know what happened later was a yelp for help before everything cut to darkness and silence. He died.

Once Mr Farfender was done telling the story, a broad applause filled the space. Only then has he realised what kind of public has his storytelling brought him. I was clapping my hands with teary eyes myself. The man stood up from his seat and with genuine smile he bowed to his listeners, thanking them for allowing him to bring his story to a closing after so many years. Before I knew it, he turned towards me and locked his sight with mine and in that moment I felt a disconnection from my body and saw myself being in a different room, with Mr. Farfender still looking at me with the same meaningful gaze. We were now in what it seemed to be a study, it was dimly lit, with main light source being the large fireplace to the right of me. Suddenly, I felt myself beginning to drift upwards, being able to view the room from above now. Mr. Farfender didn’t follow me as I flew up, he had his gaze fixed on someone who was occupying my previous position. It was a young child, no older than ten, sitting in front of him, staring at him with sparkly eyes.

“Papa, can you tell me one more story before bed? Pretty please!” the little girl pleaded to the man sitting in front of her “One more!”

The man let out a soft chuckle.

“Mm, since you’re asking so nicely, we should be able to fit one more story before it’s time for you to head to bed”.The little girl jumped in excitement, all of her body was smiling towards the man as she sat comfortably in her chair and prepared herself to listen to his tales. 

Wherever we, well now only I, was it most definitely wasn’t a reality, at very least not the one I knew about. Everything looked very real, Mr. Farfender wasn’t a ghost and so wasn’t the little girl, but the atmosphere and the way I could see them felt almost dream-like. As if I was watching him relive a very dear memory, one he just now rediscovered.

He began telling his story, it was very child friendly, unlike what he wrote for the public. He told her a story of a group of kittens getting lost in an unfamiliar area, unsure how to get back where they came from nor who to trust to be able to find home. “We have to stick together!” one kitten said, “Should we go and try to find mom?” other asked as he looked around, “Let’s stay here!” next one yelped. They kept on arguing as to what to do and wouldn’t notice how much of an attention they were bringing to themselves. People watched them with great amusement, some laughed at their tomfoolery, others kept on questioning who these kittens belonged to and if they were for sale. Soon enough one person grabbed one of them, taking her away from her siblings, other people followed through. They took the ones that they liked the most, not caring about their cries as they were to never see their siblings or their mom again. Eventually, everyone left with one kitten to look after, give a new home to, but there was an issue. One was left. It was weak, could barely walk, barely blink, no one wanted it, so they left it to die on that street, all alone.The drift brought me down beside the man, perfectly so I could hear the rest of the story.

“What happened to the weak kitten, papa?” the little girl asked with a worried voice. Leyroy gave her the same warm smile he gave me back in the library.

“Well, the night came over the city, it got cold on the street, the poor little kitten was cold, all alone. It started meowing in search of some familiar voice, but it didn’t hear a thing. Defeated it laid curled up, trying to keep whatever warmth it had to itself. Suddenly, though, it felt a pull on it’s fur. It wasn’t as if a human was grabbing it, no, more of, as if another cat came over and took it in its mouth. The kitten felt that it was getting brought somewhere, God knew where. It was scared, it cried, begged the other cat to not do anything to it, but it was met with silence. Eventually the big cat stopped and put the little kitten down. It tried to see where it was but it couldn’t, and then all out of the sudden, the kitten felt warmth around its body. A warmth only his mother and siblings gave it before. In that moment, it stopped crying, it stopped being scared, instead it pulled closer to the warmth and soon enough it was dead asleep.” the man let out a little chuckle seeing the girl’s hopeful face “Do you know what happened? It’s dad heard its cries. He heard that it was alone, that it was scared, that it didn’t know where his family went, he heard it all and came running for it. Took it to a safer place, laid next to it and provided it safety and warmth it needed. He was there when it needed him the most.”

He ended the story there, but the small girl still had a few questions.

“What about the other kittens? Did he find them too?”

“Sadly, no, at least not in that moment. He would see them though, he would watch from afar as their new families took care of them and gave them lives he never could. He would meet them one day and reunite them with the little one, but that would be long into the future.”

“What happened to the cat mom? Why wasn’t she around to save them?”

Mr, Farfender’s smile faded a little, he sighed. “She was there, for the most of it. She would raise them, provide for them as much as she could, but even she could only be there so much. She had to leave one day, one way or the other, allowing them to start living on their own, start a new, maybe better life. In this case she left a little early but... I bet she tried her best to stay for them.” There was a hint of deep sadness in his voice as he said that.

“Papa and what if... What if kitten’s dad leave it early too? Will it survive on its own?” the little girl got closer to the end of the chair, curiosity and worry written all on her face.

“He won’t” the man answered with a sure tone “He will stay with his kitten until it will manage on its own, until it won’t need his warmth to survive the night, until it can hunt as no one else can, until it’ll be safe for him to let go. He will take care of it no matter how many lives will he have to spend for that. Because that’s what daddies do, and what motivates them to go on in their life. To see their little kittens be happy and safe. That’s what we do.”

“That’s good... That’s good...” the little girl yawned and clumsily got off her chair.

“You’re going to bed now?” the man asked softly. The girl only murmured a hushed “mhm” to him. “Alright then. Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“G’night, papa...” she closed the door behind her. The room grew silent, Mr. Farfender watched the door with the same, fond expression as before. I watched him, not saying a word, sitting in the emptiness the girl left after herself.

“I had a bunch of children, you know...” Mr. Farfender suddenly said, he didn’t direct those words at anything, he didn’t even move from his spot, but I knew he was talking to me. “That’s my youngest, Anna. She’s the only one that stayed behind after her mother died and all of her siblings were given out to other families. She doesn’t remember it, though, she was still a baby. Just like that poor kitten, she was weak, all alone, barely alive... No one wanted her. If I hadn’t decided to take her in back then... God forbid...”

He took in a deep inhale before he turned towards me.

“She’s a darling isn’t she? She was the one who pushed me to continue my passion for writing. She would always sit beside me and beg ‘one more, papa, one more”! Sweet child, I would’ve given my life for her.” his cheerful expression he was just wearing became solemn “It’s a pity I’ve given it up a few years later... She was still very young as she watched me slowly give my life away... Maybe if I were stronger back then, didn’t pull back on the medicine... What am I saying, even back then it all was just too expensive for someone in our situation I... It was better to spend it on food and necessities for her. Sadly I couldn’t pull through...”

He once again turned his sight towards the door, his face showing pain and guilt, hoping to see his little Anna just once more. But he couldn’t.

“I tried to find her once I entered the spirit world but it was all in vain. I don’t know where she went, who she stayed with, if she was happy... I don’t even know if she’s alive now.” he closed his eyes and fell silent for a longer while, pondering about something.

I watched him in pain, everything he felt wore off on me, I don’t know whether it was due to me staying in his memory or the depressing story he has lived through. Not knowing whether the one he gave everything for was still around, but hoping with his whole being that they were, that they remembered him and missed him as much as he missed them. As much as he missed her.

“Thank you” he suddenly looked at me with that same meaningful stare “For everything you did for me. You... Reminded me of her. The excitement in your eyes when you talked about my work... Heh. It sure moved something in me. Thank you, lass.”

With his last word echoing in my ears, my vision became blur. I couldn’t for sure tell what was happening, I closed my eyes and when I reopened them, I was back in the library. Mr. Farfender was nowhere to be seen. I was standing there alone, surrounded by other ghost and the library’s owner, all looking at me bewildered. I looked around confused, trying to find where the man I just talked with went. I locked my eyes with the only other living soul there, he looked at me with gentleness radiating from his eyes. They told me everything.

“Mr. Farfender...” I muttered, still in shock.

“Seems like he has found his way to the eternal peace” the middle-aged man said as he looked upwards and then back at me “You lead him to it.”

As he finished his sentence, the spirits began rummaging among themselves, some walking towards me, trying to touch me, all wearing the same relieved smile. They asked me to help them find their peace, some welcomed me to their social circle, a bunch of them tried to hug me. And I could feel them, I could hear them, I could answer them, I could even slightly touch them. I was taken in by them and they were happy to see me, just as much as I was happy to see all them. I don’t know when tears started rolling down my cheeks but in that very moment my eyes once again met Mr. Overbloom’s. All he did was smile warmly at me, before simply saying:

“Welcome to the family, Eva.” ================================================

Author’s note: Hi, hello, this is the introductory chapter of a story I will be working on more in the future! I still have no clue what to name it but it might just come to me with time. If this story gets meet with a lot of positive reactions I’ll go ahead and start writing another chapter - if it won’t, you don’t get to chose I’ll write more either way.

Hope you liked it! Thank you for reading if so <33

[sugarlookatthisdog]

@sugarcarnation

[hansoeii]

the honda odyssey, huh?