#I think my family (myself included) are all coming down with colds at the moment

[momo-minomo]

Fic Fairy Friday: Good Dad Bruce Wayne

We all know that the writers at DC love to mischaracterize Bruce and make him abusive to his own children. Let's ignore that for a moment and focus on fics where Bruce is being the good father he SHOULD be, shall we? I've had the month from hell and need some serotonin.

For more fic rec lists please check out The Fic Fairy Friday Masterpost

Minimum Height Requirement by Drag0nst0rm

Summary:

Somewhere in the multiverse, there's a universe where letting his children dress up in capes and follow him into vigilantism seems like a good idea. Bruce is determined that it isn't going to be this one . . . Despite his children's repeated attempts to convince him otherwise. (Or: "When you're eighteen, you can do what you want. Until then, no capes.")

Momo's Notes: Let's start this off strong, yeah? In this world Bruce REFUSED to let Dick be a child soldier and held that line for everyone in his family, Barbara and Stephanie included. The kids fight him on this the whole way through, but Bruce refuses to let another child die. They DO stubborn their way into being underage support staff, tho. Comms, computers, equipment maintenance, first aid, etc. This Bruce is a damn good dad. He's not perfect and still has canon Bruce's terrible communication skills, but he loves his kids and wants them safe and happy.

Coming Out to the farm by Lilac_hyacinth

Summary:

"Her eyes scanned him worriedly, and Tim didn’t immediately launch into an explanation of how he was okay, really, just a bit cold. He just stood there and breathed in the warmth radiating from the little farmhouse. Honestly, Tim wasn’t sure if he was okay. “C’mon in, dear. We’ll get you dry, though I’m afraid Conner’s not here. He’s staying with Clark and Lois in Metropolis this week,” Ma said. “I know.” Tim’s voice came out as a croak. “I wasn’t looking for him, I don’t—I’m not sure why I came here.” Tim accidentally comes out to Bruce after a long patrol, panics, and runs to the Kent's farm on pure instinct.

Momo's Notes: Bruce only comes in on this one at the end but it's such a sweet scene. Bruce knows he fucked up attempt 1 of this conversation so he's determined to do right by his son on attempt 2. Bonus points for supportive batsiblings, minor TimKon, and the Kents always being willing to throw down for a Wayne. Ma and Pa Kent are amazing as always.

you are somebody’s baby; some mother held you near by nosecoffee

Summary:

“Oh my god,” Nightwing whispers, echoing through their comms like a twig snapping underfoot when you’re trying to be silent. He and Batgirl go stiff and silent, barely daring to breathe. “B, oh my god. How many…?” The tone in his voice — he sounds like he’s about to cry. There were six kids on our radar, Jason thinks, erratically. Six. “I don’t know, Nightwing.”

Momo's Notes: TRIGGER WARNING for kidnapping, child abuse, and referenced child death (by a criminal). This might not seem like a fit for this theme, at first. I focuses on Batman, Nightwing, and Jason!Robin finding a bunch of kidnapped kids in awful circumstances by following the sound of a lone child singing in the dead of night in places where there are no apartments or kids to be seen. But this has a great example of Bruce's actions showing what a loving father he is. He tries as hard as he can to protect 14 year old Jason from seeing horrific things as much as he can. He's motivated to help these poor kids not just as Batman but as Bruce Wayne. And he shows he knows Dick and Jason so well that neither can successfully lie to him without him seeing right through them. Bonus points for baby Tim in this one!

am i the only one pretending (i did it to myself) by rutaceae

Summary:

Tim doesn’t expect his latest civilian kidnapping to be any different from the rest, but when he remembers things best left buried in the past, things take a turn for the worse. Luckily, his family is here to help.

Momo's Notes: TRIGGER WARNINGS: kidnapping, assault, threatened/attempted SA (nothing terribly graphic but definitely enough to be triggering) and depictions of dissociation as a trauma response. Also contains references and a flashback to abusive Drakes (They don't personally physically harm him but are responsible for his hurt and trauma). Tim is kidnapped as Timothy Wayne by the same group of kidnappers that ransomed him as a child before he met the Batfam. Bruce in this is incredibly tender and patient as Tim is dealing with trauma. Bonus points for Jason being an AMAZING big brother to Tim in this one.

What is Earned and What is Given by Cdelphiki

Summary:

The arrival of Damian was quite the shock for Bruce. But that wasn't the only shock of the day. When Tim declared Damian should 'earn' Bruce's love, like 'everyone else,' Bruce realized he had a lot more work ahead of him than he originally thought. Or: Bruce makes sure Tim knows he's loved.

Momo's Notes: In Damian's first appearance in Batman #657 Bruce says that Damian, as a child, "deserves love and respect" It always bothered me that Tim responds to Bruce's FACE "then let him earn it like the rest of us" and Bruce NEVER ADDRESSED THAT. Tim literally told his father that he believes Bruce's love has to be EARNED, that it's transactional, and Bruce doesn't refute it. That is SO fucked up. So here's a fix-it fic of Bruce actually acting like a decent parent and following after Tim to talk this out and reassure him.

Suit by orphan_account

Summary:

"Thinking about putting on one of the suits made Tim feel warm all over, happy like he didn’t remember ever feeling, but it flitted away the second Tim thought about the after. Going downstairs to see Bruce and Duke and Cass. Heading to the actual gala and seeing Dick and Babs. Reintroducing himself to his family. It all made Tim nauseous." Tim's trans and comes out to his family. Eventually.

Momo's Notes: You guys know me by now, if I can rec an enby or trans batfam story I'm gonna. FTM trans Tim is coming out to his family one by one about being trans and it. is. STRESSFULL! This fic has some amazingly supportive Batfam, with my favorites being the scenes with Duke and Damian. The good dad Bruce in this is chef's kiss. There's a line in here that he says while talking Tim down during a panic attack that I love so damn much because who DOESN'T feel like they're a total mess sometimes? Its:

“But I’m messed up,” Tim said.

“It’s my job as your father to pick up your messes, Tim. Even if the mess is you.”

A Time To Reflect by Experimental_Muse

Summary:

Bruce finds himself stuck in the past, and while waiting for the league to pick him up, struggles to get along with his past self. Plus being in a practically empty manor is a bigger adjustment than he'd like to admit.

Momo's Notes: I love this so much. Bruce is thrown backwards in time and must stay with his past, newly Batman, self. Everything older Bruce does and thinks is a reflection for just how much he loves his kids. They don't physically show up until the end but they are there in spirit from the first paragraph because Bruce is Batman but he's a DAD first and foremost. Bonus points for the father-son interactions between Alfred and Bruce both in the past and present.

Father to Father by Crowlows19

Summary:

“You once came to me, here, without the mask, to tell me something I needed to hear about my kid,” Oliver said. “Father to father. I need to return the favor.” Oliver tells Bruce something about Tim Drake.

Momo's Notes: TRIGGER WARNING for Jack Drake being emotionally abusive and physically destroying Tim's stuff in response to Tim talking back to him. This is honestly pretty accurate to how canon Jack behaves but it can still be triggering so I wanted to warn for it. This is probably another odd one for this list, but I couldn't help but include it. It's not in Bruce's or his kid's pov and we don't actually see Bruce interact with any of his kids. Instead, we get an outsider's perspective via an Oliver Queen who has been frenemies with Bruce since they were toddlers. In this 'verse Bruce realized when a teenaged Roy was on drugs and pulled Ollie to the side, father to father, to tell him so Ollie could help his son the way he needed to (as opposed to how comics canon Ollie handled it in the WORST WAY POSSIBLE). Bruce and Ollie have this mutual understanding that their kids matter the most to them. So Ollie has complete faith that Bruce will move heaven and hell to help Tim the same way Ollie did Roy. Bonus points for Tim being the Bat the JL reach out to when they need a detective because he's so much more pleasant to deal with than Bruce lol

16 november 1581 by DairyFarmer

Summary:

Bruce blacked out. He wasn’t sure what happened after those words left Jack’s mouth. All he knew was that the next thing he remembered was being pulled off of Jack Drake by several police officers. ---- Tim goes missing and there were times that Bruce wished he wasn’t such a good detective.

Momo's Notes: TRIGGER WARNING for abusive Jack Drake and attempted filicide. Poor Bruce. Tim goes missing after a day out with his father and Bruce knows immediately that he's lying about what happened. Bruce dealing with the potential murder of another son who should have been safe with his other parent has him badly hurting and terrified. He's far from a perfect dad with his shitty communication skills (F's in the chat for poor Dick who has to find out a little brother is missing and in danger second hand because Bruce forgot to call him AGAIN) but he loves his kids with his whole heart.

buy the ticket, take the ride by Anonymous

Summary:

Tim had always figured that if he ever woke up in Vegas sans-memory, it would be when he was older than fourteen. But there were some things he couldn’t control, and apparently whatever had happened last night that he didn’t remember was one of them. 

Momo's Notes: TRIGGER WARNINGS for another abusive piece of shit Jack Drake and for Tim waking up after being roofied not knowing what happened to him (no SA happened). Poor Timmy has the WORST day in this one but I'm really including it for the panic poor Bruce, Jason, and Dick go through trying to find their lost bird and the sweet scene between Bruce and Tim when they're reunited. He's exactly as gentle and loving as he should be. Bonus points for Jason and Dick being good big brothers

Rescue and Recover by OdosBucket

Summary:

he bats have spent the better part of the past two months in captivity, and Clark is grateful to finally have them back, even if it will still be some time before any of them are recovered from the experience.

Momo's Notes: TRIGGER WARNINGS for references to kidnapping, torture, and threats of SA to both adults and minors. No SA actually happened, but some characters were worried it had due to threats made. This one is pretty heavy so please skip it if you need to. This one is Clark's pov after the JL has rescued Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian after they were held captive for two months and tortured. They're all understandably messed up from this but they are a loving and protective family. Even before waking up in the hospital Bruce is terrified for his kids. He loves them so much and struggles with the fact that he couldn't protect them. The SuperBat is sweet as Clark tries to help his partner and the kids they've both adopted recover from the awful experiences they've just endured. Bonus points for the batboys supporting and protecting each other.

[seraphicsage]

Lady Atreides

A/N this is the first chapter in a Feyd Rautha x reader that I've been writing over the last couple months. Please I beg comment and reblog if you like it otherwise I'll never have the motivation to finish

Summary: Reader was betrothed to Feyd at birth and since has formed a close relationship with him. Now her family is dead and they're working to outsmart the Bene Gesserit

Chapter 1

Waking up on the floor of a cell was not how I was expected to start the day, the pounding in my head made sense for me though. I hauled myself up to a sitting position, leaning against the wall and looking around me. As I sit there for a few minutes I try to remember the previous day. Another fight with Jessica, not out of the ordinary, not going to dinner, also not out of the ordinary. Anything after that is a blur. Fuck. Where am I? 

I hear the sound of muffled footsteps coming closer. I quickly shoot up and search myself to see what was removed from me before I was thrown in here. Weirdly, nothing. I pull a small knife out of where I’ve hidden it by my thigh, pointing it in the direction of the sound. The dark door slides open and I hold my breath, trying to ready myself to attack. 

To my complete relief I know the face that’s standing on the other side of the door. He takes 3 long steps towards me and engulfs me in his arms. For a moment I relax, then I remember where I am and quickly pull back, pointing my knife at him again. Truthfully, he could easily overpower me but it gives me some sense of control over the situation, and honestly I know he wouldn’t hurt me. He doesn’t seem surprised by my reaction. “Why am I here?” He seems hesitant to answer my question, watching me intently. “Answer me!”

“I am unsure how you will react.” He brings his arms behind him, standing tall and not elaborating. I almost want to slap his stone cold face.

“Well the longer you wait the worse I’m going to think it is. And the more likely I am to try and stab you.” He chuckles at that, and I try to stop myself from smiling but the idea of it is funny. “Just tell me.” He lets out a small sigh. 

“My uncle sent my brother and the Harkonnen armies to Arrakis, to take the planet back.” I am not surprised they did, I expected it even, I am more confused on how that means I am here. “They killed everyone, including your family, bar a few prisoners. My uncle allowed you to live as we are betrothed. I assured him you would be loyal to the Harkonenns first so as long as you cooperate, he shouldn’t have an issue with you.”

That sounds like the start of a deal I may not like. “He could find anyone to marry you with the power he has. Why would he want an Atreides?” His uncle is a ruthless and merciless man, he must gain something from me staying alive. 

“I am the na-baron and I told him I wanted you. The Harkonnen line needs to be continued with pure blood. Having an Atreides accept his takeover may mean the other houses will follow suit. And this way those witches will not interfere. I am sure my uncle will expect more from me in exchange for your life, however it is not as though he doesn’t already have power over me for now.”

“So, this is it? They’re all gone, and I’m here now? To stay? We just have to work around your uncle for now?” He nods and I lower the knife. Relief consumes me and I cannot help the large grin that overtakes my face. I’ve been waiting for this day my entire life. Years of resentment built up for my family and finally I am free of them. I feel Feyd draw closer, invading my space again to put his hands on my shoulders. He knows how long I have waited for this day. I lower my head and press it against his chest, taking it in; I let out a small chuckle without meaning to.

“You’ll be moved to your own rooms today. They’ll need to do fittings, medical exams, and I’ll introduce you to your maids. My uncle will want to talk with you as well.” That sends a shiver down my spine, but I nod into his chest to show I’m listening. “I know this is a lot, an adjustment for you. However, you know this is only the start, we need to be careful.” 

I take a deep breath, grounding myself and remembering where I am. I stand straight and bring myself to meet his eyes, he always looks at me with such care when we’re alone. “I know, I’m ready. This has made things easier, my family cannot interfere anymore.” 

He nods in agreement and he walks me to what must be my room, where two girls are standing waiting for me, with their heads down. “I have some things I need to attend to, they know what needs to be completed today and I will take you to see my uncle later,” he says, pressing his hand to my back for a brief moment. I meet his eyes and nod in return, watching as he turns to leave. If this is his way of introducing them to me then I’m going to need to teach him actual manners.

I’m left awkwardly standing with these two girls. They’re both standing so stiffly, heads down, hands clasped. I hesitate for a moment but decide to just take the lead, “Hi girls, should we make some introductions? What are your names?” They both stay quiet for a moment and their hesitation is practically palpable. I understand it, they are servants in the Harkonnen house and I can only imagine the fear they must feel; this will not work if they cannot even speak to me however. “I understand your fear, but I assure you that I do not use the same methods as the Harkonnen family. I wish for us to be comfortable with each other, it would be nice for me to have some friends here, and I can do my best to protect you.” I try my best to reassure them but I really don’t know what to say to make them trust me. I need allies in the staff and my maids seem like a good place to start.

Thankfully, they introduce themselves after another moment of hesitation; Nyla and Becca. They walk me through the tasks for today, starting off with getting measured to have new clothes made for me, followed by being checked over by the doctors to ensure I am in good health. We find that we get along well, I encourage them to talk to me a little when we are alone and they seem like sweet girls. 

The most frustrating part of my day is when the doctor refuses to share with me his medical assessment - apparently it is not my concern. The medical exam was exhausting enough. Thankfully after arguing back and forth with the doctor for a few minutes, Feyd walks in. Suddenly the doctor is much more agreeable. 

Feyd pretty much immediately ignores the doctor and asks me if everything is in order. “Well I don’t know. Apparently the results of my own health inspection are ‘none of my concern’.” Feyd turns to the man and tells him to share the results. The doctor hesitates but thankfully does not try Feyd’s patience.

“She is in fit health, she is fertile and apart from a slightly lowered blood pressure, which is to be expected given the circumstances, she is completely fine. The blood pressure will likely sort itself out over the next few days but it is worth getting her checked again in a week to ensure that she is ready before the wedding.” I can see the way he is glancing between us, as if he’s waiting for a small bomb to go off. I suppose he is. 

I lie down on the bed, letting the tiredness wash over me as the tension in the room remains almost audible. I see out of the corner of my eye that Feyd grips onto the doctor’s shoulder and drags him out of the room and there is a muffled thud from outside of the closed door. I hear the door open and his heavy footing come towards me. I turn to meet his eyes as he crouches beside the bed next to me. There’s small blood splatters on his face and likely his black suit too. I bring my hand up to try and wipe it off for him and I can see how intently he’s watching me. 

“You’re tired,” he states firmly. I nod in confirmation, the Harkonnen methods of a full medical exam are tiring, not to mention the stress of the day and everything that’s still to come. 

“I take it that the fact that you are here means that it is time for me to speak to your uncle?” I keep my hand against his face as we watch each other. He looks ever so slightly concerned, which for him means he is very worried, but he nods all the same. 

“Will you be okay?” he asks after a moment of hesitation, despite knowing there is nothing we can do either way. Although I know it’s more about assessing the situation to make it go as smoothly as possible. 

“I will be,” I run my finger along his cheek for a moment, “I can manage. It is important that we let him get his way, he needs to think that he has control over me as well. If he doesn’t trust me then our plans won’t work.” I murmur, largely to myself but in Feyd’s direction. I know that he can see that I am thinking out loud because he makes no move to respond. 

He moves slightly to press a barely-there kiss on the palm of my hand before moving to stand up and offering me his. I take it and stand up, letting the rushing in my head pass for a moment as he holds me firmly. I look up at him, readying myself for what’s to come. “Let me do the talking okay? He has to hear it all from my mouth or he may think you are trying to protect me or cover for me.” He doesn’t like the idea but he agrees, knowing I’m right. I stand firm and we walk together to the Baron. 

When we walk into the room, I’m greeted with the sight of the Baron towering over us in his suspender chair. My throat fills with disgust at the man in front of me, but I swallow it down and still my face, lowering myself into a bow when I approach. “Lady Atreides,” he greets me, “I hope you are finding your accommodations satisfactory.” I can hear the sneer in his voice though I behave as though it isn’t there. 

“More than satisfactory my Lord Baron, I thank you for your hospitality. I understand that it is due to you, that I have been kept alive since you’ve reclaimed your territory.” I keep my chin high, standing straight. 

“Reclaimed? Interesting choice of words. You do not seem disappointed to have lost your home, your family.” 

“Arrakis was never my home, nor was I ever close with my family. My father was a weak man, falling for a Bene Gesserit concubine and never truly holding onto his power. He did not deserve the power given to him. Arrakis needs a powerful leader, someone who knows how to deal with the spice trade and the Fremen; my father is not that man.” 

The Baron watches me for a moment, I meet his eyes and ensure that I do not falter. “You approve of your betrothal to the na-baron?” He changes the subject, indicating where Feyd is standing, a few steps behind me.” 

“I do, I have always known that it is my role and I am grateful for it.” He seems to approve of this answer because he dismisses me moments later. I lower myself into a bow before turning and leaving the room. Feyd does not follow me.

tag list: @avidreader73 @aoi-targaryen @wiseyouthinfluencer

[theseinfernalangels]

The Haunting Ordeal of Rosarie Fuentes — Liam Mairi 🪞

Synopsis: Today is the anniversary of the day Rosarie Fuentes’ parents were killed in action by General Melgren. When the past comes back to haunt her, she finds solace in an unexpected visitor.

Includes: New OC, some made up spiritual stuff and places because we don’t know many regions in Navarre, angst, the role model/big brother Liam we didn’t get to see for Day 6 of Liam Week 🥹 

November 13th. Generally, I try to avoid people on this day due to its significance, which means that I have not been to any of my classes today. I told one of my squadmates that I’m sick, but I’m not quite sure he —or anyone else, for that matter — believed me.

Everyone knows what happened today. Even if I went out, they’d avoid me either out of hatred or for fear of me tearing them all apart.

“I still do not see how this benefits you.” Taibh’s quiet, husky voice echoes through my mind like an aching lullaby. “Does isolation not make your pain worse?”

“No,” I huff, lowering my head back into my history textbook, right on the page of a fierce Tyrrish queen. “One of two things would happen if I saw people today. They’d either pity me or taunt me, and I don’t need any of that.”  

“Fools,” the dragon growls, shooting waves of frustration down our bond. “A rider like you does not need pity.”

I unconsciously nod my head in agreement. I am Rosarie Fuentes, daughter of Isidor and Gwenael Fuentes. They are Tyrrish legends. Their names alone mean that people should respect me…But they don’t, because their names are those of fallen traitors now. 

Traitors? Please. The real traitors are the ones who decided that the Apostasy was something worth killing people for instead of something to be celebrated. 

I stare down at the textbook before I flip it shut, resisting the urge to put a knife through it. Through anything, really — it would take the edge off quick, but if I started with that, I don’t know how I could stop. And, with the way my aim has been lately, I’d probably break a window. I can’t be a traitor and commit property damage. 

I end up just pacing back and forth in my bedroom, angrily muttering to myself with quiet commentary from Taibh. Despite it being — what, seven years? — since my parents fell in battle together, I still get overemotional about it all. Not like when it originally happened, but it’s enough to be unsettling to anyone who sees, because I don’t get emotional. Ever. It’s odd, to me, because it’s not like I don’t spend every other moment of my time thinking about them. I should be over it by now…But I guess I’m too weak for that.

“It does not make you weak to grieve,” Taibh interjects. He’s silent for another moment before he continues, “Would you like to know something about me, Little Thorn?”

“Sure,” I reply. “Shoot.”

“Two decades or so ago, I lost my dearest brother against a drift of gryphons.”

I pause. Taibh has — had — a brother? It strikes me that I’ve never thought about Taibh as anything more than my dragon — half of my soul, ready for action. It certainly never occurred to me that he has a family, too…Probably because I never shut up about losing mine.

“Oh,” I manage, feeling a bit guilty. “I’m sorry, Taibh. I didn’t know.”

“No,” he amends. “You’re alright. What I am trying to say is that grief does not leave just because time has passed. You are allowed to be upset about your family just as I am mine. I think about Titeciúnaigh every day. Does it not irritate you?”

Ah. So that’s the wave of sadness I feel from him every time he lets his shields down a little too much — cold, aching sorrow that chills me from the bones outward. It comes and goes, but it’s easily distinguishable from my own, which is burning, venomous, and all-consuming.

“No,” I reply. “Of course not. I hardly even notice it sometimes. When I do, it’s mostly physically uncomfortable.”

“Precisely.” The dragon snorts. “And it does not bother me or anyone else that you miss your parents. No more apologies.”

It’s nothing short of an order, so I concede and resume my pacing. Despite my exhaustion, that sinking feeling in my chest doesn’t cease once. Perhaps it’s the rawness of the day, or maybe it’s because I always have this feeling that something is going terribly wrong. Or, it could be that no one has deigned to ask how I am today — but that’s my own fault for locking my door and not speaking to anyone. I’m not very up for a conversation, but the fact that no one has even tried to talk to me kind of…stings?

That makes no sense. I can’t expect anyone to communicate when the only thing I’ve conveyed to my squad is that I want to be left alone. I’m too used to being in Antara with my foster siblings, who took care of me a little too well whenever the sadness became too much to bear. I’ve hardly even tried to forge that kind of relationship with anyone here, besides Taibh. — not even with the other Tyrs my age, which I would probably benefit from considering our circumstances right now. But I don’t need help like them. I can already fight and hold my own just fine. It’s not fair to ask anything of them when I haven’t given anything myself.

 My steps falter a little as I near the window by my bed, the setting sun casting arcs of red and orange through the Moranian sky. My nails scratch at the stone wall absentmindedly. Is this what they saw as they fell, my parents? Free-falling from the backs of their slaughtered dragons, tumbling through the air together whilst Navarrian soldiers watched with glee? The thought makes me so sick to my stomach that I have to grip the wall, hard, to force the rising bile in my throat back down. I take in a shaky breath and slowly lower myself to the ground, just like the Earl of Antara taught me, and tuck my head between my knees.

In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. In. Hold. Try not to choke. Out.

“Easy, now,” Taibh soothes. “You are okay, Little Thorn. Keep breathing.” A well-meaning surge of warmth floods the bond, but it doesn’t do much to quell this feeling of nausea that continues to eat at me.

“Fuck,” I whisper. “I’m sorry. You don’t deserve this, Taibh. You need a rider who can actually keep her shit together and not get triggered because of something as small as a sunset.”

“Why do you question my choice in a rider?” He asks, his tone growing firm but keeping that softness to it, quite uncharacteristic for a Red. “I chose you for a reason, you know. Your reaction to traumatic events have nothing to do with it.”

“It’s just—“ I take deep breath in and feel my jaw clench, ignoring that familiar sting in my waterline. “I feel so alone now. Mom is gone. Dad is gone. They executed Charlotte. None of my foster siblings are here. I’m…Dammit.” A stray tear streaks down my cheekbone. “I’ve lost everyone that’s ever been important to me. Lonely doesn’t even begin to describe it.”

I pause for a moment, my breaths shaky and uneven. “And maybe that’s stupid, because I don’t make much effort to train with anyone else who’s marked, but I can’t just make myself get close to someone again. Everyone I care about leaves me, and I have to pick up the pieces every. Single. Time. It’s not fair.”

Taibh is silent for a moment, and for those few seconds, I have the agonizing thought that he thinks my feelings are pathetic and decided to leave. When I hear his voice pick up, though, my heart leaps in relief.

“Well,” the dragon starts, going slowly like he doesn’t quite know what to say. “There is one thing for certain: You are most certainly not alone, as long as you have me. Which is forever, by the way. Even if the world around us turns to rubble, you and I will not be separated.”

I nod along with the sentiment, but I don’t have the heart to say what I’m actually thinking: It’s not the same. Sure, Taibh and me have that ruby red bond between us, glowing and ethereal and strange, but that’s not the same as a friend or a sibling. I miss sneaking around at midnight to climb onto my parents’ roof. I miss going swimming in that stupid little creek that has ice-cold water in my backyard. I miss praying to Dunne for extra power to my parents when they went out on mission.

Dammit, I miss my sister.

Slowly, I feel Taibh creep out of my mind, his meaning unspoken but clear — he’s giving me some privacy to sort things out. I silently thank him and bury my head in my tingling arms, letting my sorrow wash over me in continuous, ferocious waves. That sinking feeling becomes bottomless, dragging me into the depths of my pain with nothing to anchor me to the surface. It’s killing me, I realize — this isolation I’ve set myself into. What I thought would protect me is the thing that weighs me down further, and I’m not sure how much of it I can take any longer.

It surges through me, this feeling, flooding my veins and screaming a single word: Alone, alone, alone. I’ve never thought about it so intensely, but at Basgiath, where people try their best to kill people like me for some form of sick closure, I am truly, utterly lonely. I like my solitude, but not…whatever this is. 

Charlotte would know what to do; she made it through the quadrant with flying colors. She was one of the most ferocious riders, even when they had her on her knees and lit ablaze. She didn’t scream, didn’t cry — she didn’t even make a noise. How does one even do that?

I need her. I need advice. I need someone to talk to, someone who actually knows what the fuck they’re doing in this godsforsaken place. I can’t cry in my room until my fingers flood with pins and needles forever. That won’t fix shit in the end — and to assume that it will would be like reading my own name off the death roll.

“Shut the fuck up,” I scold myself softly. “Get ahold of yourself. Crying won’t bring them back, and it won’t fix you.”

“No, but you have to admit it’s quite therapeutic,” a voice says, soft but sure in tone.

…Huh?

 I frown and glance at the Taibh’s and I’s bond — still there, obviously, but the light doesn’t pulse the way it normally does when either of us speak.

What the fuck? “Taibh?”

“I never liked to cry much in front of others, either,” it continues, “but you have to let it all out eventually, or you’ll go fucking crazy.”

That voice…It’s not inside my brain. That’s not Taibh. My head raises, but there’s no one here with me—

Until my eyes catch icy blue ones, and my heart stops.

“Shit!” I yelp, palming a dagger and hurling it at the source of the voice while I fling myself to my feet, ready to draw blood. I know my blade lands true, right where it should sink into the invader’s chest, but instead of flesh, I hear it stick in the wood of my bed frame with a dull thunk.

 I whip my head around and stare at the boy who should be dead, who in turn stares at my bed looking almost…impressed. “Awesome aim,” he compliments, turning to me, “but  that’s not going to help you here, I’m afraid.”

I’m hallucinating. I must be. No one could have gotten in here without me or Taibh noticing, and this guy is barely even visible. His form, tall and broad and leather-clad, flickers slightly at the edges, as if he was suspended in a dying candlelight — except for the outline of his left arm, which looks more solid than the rest of him. The blade went through him, so he’s not real. Easy. Factual. Done. I’m hallucinating because of my grief, and I should probably get some sleep before I go even madder.

Noticing my disbelief, he just smiles gently. “I’ve been waiting for someone to see me,” he murmurs, taking in my tense stance. “I guess you’re the lucky one of the bunch, huh?”

“Not real,” I say under my breath, digging my nails into my palms, which feel strangely heavy. “Hallucination. Calm down, Fuentes. Calm the fuck down.”

His eyes, so blue that they could practically be a piece of the sky, soften a little. “Hey.” He takes a step closer and then pauses when my hand flies to my hip for a second dagger. “Breathe. You can’t hurt me, and I won’t hurt you. That’s not why I’m here.”

He tilts his head to study me, a not-quite-there blond curl falling in his eyes. “You must think I’m some sort of illusion, right?” He says, slightly teasing. “Because I can promise you that I’m not.”

Exactly what a hallucination would say. Maybe I should finally go outside and dunk my face in some ice water.

My lack of a reply doesn’t go unnoticed. His bright smile turns a bit melancholy at the edges. “You’re the one who summoned me here, you know. You said you needed to talk to someone. I heard you.”

Nope. Fucking nope. I reach out and tug hard on the bond. “Taibh?” I think desperately. “Please help me. I think I’m going insane.”

A wave of soothing calm washes over me from the opposite edge of the red string, but what Taibh says makes my heart rate pick up right where it left off.

“You are not insane, Little Thorn,” he says, his voice laced with…pride? “You’ve finally manifested your signet, I see.”

“Manifested myself seeing things? That’s kind of a shitty power.”

“No,” he replies, ever patient. “You’re not seeing things. You, my chosen, have been blessed by Malek. You are a medium.”

“Fucking what?” I can’t stop the words from leaving me. “What do you mean, a medium?”

The boy brightens a little, his eyes sharpening in understanding. “Ah.” He nods. “So that’show you can see me.”

A medium? Those are only scammers who pretend that they can contact your dead family for the price of fifty krown. Unless…

“Oh.” 

I glance back over at the boy. The way he just showed up in here out of nowhere, combined with the fact that he’s present but visually not quite here…

“Are you…”

“Dead?” He sheepishly scratches the back of his neck. “Yes.”

Assuming I’m not losing my mind here, I’m speaking to a dead person. Who’s in turn speaking to me. I think I need to sit down, or my brain might go into overload.

“Okay.” I breathe in, deep and slow, and then exhale. “Okay. I think…okay. I — uh...” I start fiddling with my fingers awkwardly. “Sorry? For trying to stab you?”

He shakes his head. “No worries. I would’ve done it, too. I’m sorry for just popping in like that. I guess I’ve been a bit…” He cringes a little. “Antsy, waiting  for so long for someone to talk to me.”

I sweep my gaze over him until my mouth dips into a frown. “But…I thought the dead went to Malek’s realm after they passed. Please don’t make me have a religious crisis and tell me that’s not true.”

The boy barks out a laugh. “No. As I understand it, not all of my things were burned in reverence. So, until they are, I’m kind of stuck here.”

He winces. “I’m not sure how much I can say. Being dead has rules, and I don’t want to damn myself by accidentally spilling things.”

Being dead has rules? I’d call bullshit, but it makes a little sense, I guess. You’re the closest to Malek you’ll ever get, which means He has more control over your fate. I don’t even know this boy, but I don’t want him to be in trouble with the god of death, either. He looks nice enough, anyway.

I settle myself on my bed and allow my fingers to start twisting at my sheets in an attempt to calm myself. “Is it against the rules to ask for your name?”

He drops to sit on my bed, too — but instead of a plop, he just kind of…hovers. “It’s not. My name is Liam. Liam Mairi.”

I straighten instantly. That surname…I’m all too familiar with that one. “Mairi? Was your mother—“

“The colonel, yes,” he finishes. 

I feel a foolish little twinge of excitement rise through me, one of the first in years, excluding Threshing. “We’ve met before, I think. Rosarie Fuentes. Our parents fought together on the front lines.”

He blinks, his expression going far away. “Fuentes, huh?” He looks away in thought before blinking. “We have. You and my sister tried to climb the side of your house once, but she got too scared to come down by herself and made me climb up with her.” His gaze turns wistful at the memory. I feel a bit guilty again; for the five months we’ve been here, I haven’t even tried to find Sloane to talk to her. I don’t think we’re even in the same wing — and I certainly didn’t know that her brother died. He’s  not much older than us, just by a  year or two.

What happened last year?

“My mother never did quite get over your parents’ passings,” he murmurs. “She talked about your mom a lot. I miss my Gwen, she’d say. Gwen needs to get out of Malek’s realm so she can taste this wine.” 

He stops speaking abruptly and cocks his head to the side, the blue of his irises flaring in understanding. “Is it November 13th?”

My excitement dies, and by the way his eyes soften, I can tell my face probably has fallen. “It is.”

Liam’s hand moves to lay on mine, but it passes right through, although I do note that my skin becomes a little chilly under his touch. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “That must be why you’ve locked yourself away in here, right?”

I swallow. “Yes. I don’t like to be around people on this day. Especially not here.”

“I get it.” He sighs and glances out the window. “On Reunification Day, I made the bright decision to go to the celebration with my friend. To say I was popular is an overstatement.”

Reunification Day — the day everyone else’s parents were killed, and my sister. Great, now I have two days where I need to avoid people. 

“Why did you go?” I ask. “Is it mandatory?”

“Oh, no,” he reassures me. “I was the only marked kid to go. I was watching out for my friend. Her brother died that day, too, and no one likes to be alone on death anniversaries.”

He stops as if catching himself and then raises an eyebrow. “Except for you,” he comments. “Why is that?”

I shrug. “It’s easier. I’m alone most of the time, anyway, so it’s not like it bothers me.” …Bothers me much, anyway. I leave that part unspoken, but as if sensing the words, Liam plucks them straight from my mouth.

“Sure,” he replies, unconvinced. “But you aren’t alone, you know? You have your dragon, firstly, but then you have your fellow Tyrs to look out for you.” He squints. “Unless you haven’t done that.”

I lower my eyes, trying not to squirm in embarrassment under his ghostly gaze. “…Not really,” I admit. “The others in my wing have made it clear they don’t like me.”

“And my sister?” He asks. “You know her.”  

“I haven’t seen much of her,” I try to deflect. “I only saw her after the Parapet, and that’s because she threw a fit about being sorted into a squad with General Sorrengail’s daughter.”

Liam goes quiet, and when I look up, his face is screwed up in a face that I can only imagine is one of either disappointment or resignation.

“Oh,” is all that leaves his mouth. “I see.”

To be fair, you can’t really blame her. I’d be pretty pissed off, too, if I had to share a squad with the daughter of the person who killed my parents and sister. Lucky for me, General Melgren has no children, so I never have to worry about that. 

“So you’ve just been…avoiding your allies?” He asks, raising a stern blond brow.

I try not to flinch at the accusation. “No! I don’t avoid people. That’s a pussy move.”

“Then you should go talk to them,” he encourages. “They’re easy to find. My sister. Bodhi Durran. Imogen Cardulo. They’re the only way I was able to get through last year with my head on straight.”

I stuff my frustration into a little mental box and shove it deep down. “I’m fine” I say through a deep breath. “The others need more help, anyway. Have you seen them fight?”

“Yes,” he replies. “And you can help them learn. That’s how I had it last year. Some of my year-mates, Dunne love them, were absolute shit at sparring. I helped train them since I was pretty decent.”

Pretty decent sounds like the understatement of a century. The way Liam is built, obviously for combat, screams that he wasn’t just good — he was the best.

The way he looks at me, full of expectation that warrants responsibility, has me fidgeting a little with the hilt of another dagger. “There are only two other Tyrs in my wing, and they don’t like me. Said I got off easier since my sister was the only one at the executions.”

His eyes darken. “Bullshit.”

I just shrug. “I can’t help what they think of me. They don’t want me around, so I don’t bother.”

“What about the others, then?” He asks. “They’re not in your wing, but I’m sure they’d be glad to have you.”

My gaze drops to the floor. Honestly, I’m not quite sure how the dynamic is supposed to play out, and that scares me. I’m not a leader, but I’m not a subordinate either; I’m a free-faller, just like my parents. I have no place in the fucked up little family of separatists at Basgiath.

Alone, my veins sing. Alone, alone, alone.

As if in response, Liam’s form turns completely opaque for half of a second before he starts to flicker again. He sighs and looks back at me. Even though he’s not there, not really, I can still feel his eyes trace over me carefully. Maybe it’s because he’s dead, but the air around me feels colder than usual. 

“I guess that’s why you summoned me,” he mutters. “The magic knew what you needed, and delivered.”

Immediately, I feel bad for accidentally bringing him here when he should be…Well, I don’t know what dead people do, but I can’t imagine they want to spend their afterlife with First-Year cadets who have avoidance issues.

“I mean, if you want to go,” I tell him hesitantly, “then go ahead. I didn’t mean to bring you into my bullshit. I just got too emotional.”

As if on cue, his face goes from musing to soft. “No. I’m here for a reason. I know we didn’t know each other well in life, but I don’t leave when someone clearly needs me.”

I swallow back the words that automatically rise in my throat: I don’t need you. Because, really, while my pride screams at me to figure out how this signet works and kick him out, I know that deep down, my power knew I need someone like Liam right now. Magic knows, according to Taibh, and I don’t think it’s the best idea to try and defy it.

When I don’t reply right away, Liam shifts a little closer to me. “Listen,” he begins, his mouth twisting as he searches for words to say. “I don’t get to tell you how you go through the motions here. Your journey is up to you, and you alone. What I do get to do is give you some advice, as someone who’s been in your shoes. Is that alright?”

No, actually. I hate unsolicited advice, especially when it comes to how I conduct myself. Surprisingly, though, I find myself more willing to listen than I’m used to. Maybe it’s the quiet sureness of his voice that reminds me of my big sister, or because he deigned to ask first, or the fact that something about him feels…safe; before I can really think about it, I nod.

“I know what it’s like to be alone,” he murmurs. “It sucks. Don’t pretend it doesn’t, because I don’t like being lied to. It’s okay to like being by yourself, but being lonely is the worst burden to bear in a place like this.”

It is, I want to say. It really is. To go from a loving family to a cold foster home to an actual death trap, leaving no room for other relationships besides the ones forged under fire, has killed a good portion of myself for good. I’m not even sure if I’m that good of a person anymore — any hope of that died the minute I stabbed that boy on the Parapet.

“So,” Liam continues, “here’s what I’ll say. I strongly, very strongly, recommend that you talk to at least one other marked kid, because then you’ll have at least one friend.” His lips quirk into a wry smile. “Well, one living friend.”

I don’t comment on his choice of words; obviously, he means that he’s my ally — as much as he can be, being a spirit. But to go to someone now? After Threshing, when dynamics have changed and people are already distrustful as is? I’m more likely to go back to Aretia.

Instead, I just slouch a little, more defeated than anything else. “I don’t think I can. It would look kind of pathetic for me to go begging to talk to someone so late in the year. Allyships have already been formed, and it’s pretty damn clear that I’m not welcome.”

“It’s not pathetic,” he insists. “I didn’t meet my friend Violet until a little after Threshing, and she came to be one of the greatest people I ever knew. And just because a few people have some shitty opinions, doesn’t mean that they reflect that of the entire group.”

He turns to me fully, locking eyes with me with a gentle intensity that practically burns right through me. “Again, I can’t control what you do. Hell, you just manifested and are talking to a guy that died five months ago. But think about it, alright? I can promise you that the effort will be worth it, in the end.”

Will it? I don’t know. I barely know if I can trust him — but, at the same time, something about Liam Mairi screams that he’s a man of his word no matter whether he’s solid flesh or a flickering projection. The energy practically calls to me, catching on to an instinct that I barely registered before — Liam is safe. He knows what he’s talking about. I don’t know him, and I don’t trust easily, but something inside is telling me that he is good, and I would be wise to listen.

That, or maybe it’s because he sounds a lot like Charlotte right now.

I hesitate, and then my voice returns to me, but quite a bit smaller than I’d like. “I know this is completely unfair, but can I ask something of you?”

“Of course,” he replies automatically. “Talk to me.”

I take in a deep, shaky breath. “I…I know we, like, just met. Honestly, I’m still trying to figure out if I’m hallucinating or not.” My hands start drumming rapid lines on my thighs. “I don’t think I can do what you’re asking of me. Not alone, at least.” My request is implicit, enough to be clear of what I want without damaging my pride too badly in the process.

Liam catches on almost right away. “I’ll be there,” he vows. “I can’t do much to protect my sisters or my friends, but I can help you, Rosarie. You deserve that much.”

His head inclines. “Where do you want to start?”

I swallow, feeling my palms start to sweat with nerves. “Baby steps.”

.˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳.

The steps I take to the commons are slow, methodical. They don’t need to be — I’ve thought out what I’m going to say for at least three days now, and with Liam’s gentle encouragement, I know I’ll be fine.

But the prospect of allowing someone in after so long is overwhelming. I don’t like this feeling, not one bit. But I’m not a child anymore. I cannot let my paranoia get in the way of making connections that ensure my survival, not when there is a fuck ton of people praying for my downfall.

The light of the room is dim, slightly dappled from old raindrops scattered in the window. It casts rays of light on me, warm and comforting, and beautiful shadows on to the person I’ve been trying to track down these past few days, coming around through word of mouth and some investigating on Liam’s part.

I stop before I shake my anxiety and take a step in.

Liam is already there, of course, leaning against the opposite wall with his arms and ankles crossed. Being a spirit, he’s not exactly bound to the laws of nature like us — which makes him unfairly fast when it comes to travelling. I’ve gotten used to it already. No more attempted stabbings on my end.

I stare at him. He watches me. Then, slowly, he dips his head, gesturing ahead of me. He doesn’t even need to speak for me to hear what he’s clearly trying to convey.

You’re already here now, so go for it. I won’t leave.

I nod and squeeze my hand until

my heart stops pounding. I inch little closer, and then a little more, and then a little more.

My teeth dig into my lip, but I clear my throat. “Is this seat taken?”

The girl in front of me startles a little, her hand automatically flying to her hip like mine did with Liam, but she pauses at the very last moment, right before she can put a blade through my head.

Her narrowed, sky blue eyes go wide. “Rosarie?”

Despite myself, I feel a long-coming smile start to spread across my face while Liam just watches us with a bittersweet grin.

I tilt my chin. “Hi, Sloane.”

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[im-not-a-ghost]

Surprise reading to celebrate my new oracle deck

I was kindly gifted an oracle deck by a French reader that goes by the name of Soul shadow, whom I admire a lot. It’s a 90s anime themed oracle deck. So to celebrate this new baby, I decided to do a reading on the following theme :

a message from someone you love ❤️

No picture to pick from today, just use your intuition and pick a number between 1 and 3.

Group 1

I had to take a break to sort things through. There were so many things I wanted to tell you but it would have been difficult for me to express them in the state I was in. I don’t want you to think that I’m mad at you or that I hate you because that isn’t true. I sincerely think that meeting you was the best thing that could happen to me. I met you at the perfect timing and there is nothing I would change about that. With you I really feel like I can tackle the world and overcome anything. I need time to understand what this means to me, to figure out how I can better fit you into my life, to solve my own issues and find my footing. I know that asking you to be patient is a bit unfair. But I really need the space right now. I can only hope that you understand this decision and that all ends well in the end. I know this is going to be difficult but I have hope that we can overcome this together. Will you wait for me?

💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕 Group 2

I really thought that I had it all figured out. But that was until you came into my life. At first, I will be honest, I didn’t like your energy. I thought you were too carefree. But the more I got to know you the more I understood the importance of going with the flow with you. Know that I am open to whatever may happen, now that I stopped overthinking, I can really appreciate the journey and I really feel hyped up. Though I don’t need it, I really like to be reassured by you. Every time that you encourage me or celebrate me, it’s just one more sign for me that I’m doing the right thing and I’m grateful for that. There’s a lot that I wish to say and I plan on taking the time to express them when I get the chance. I have now found a new goal, a new purpose in life and I intend on showing everyone, including you, what I am made of. I know that I can be better and do better. And though a part of me is scared, I know deep down it’s worth fighting for. It’s time for me to put some order into my life and work toward my desired reality. Thank you for showing me the way to my destiny. You really are amazing!

💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕 Group 3

I hate that I love you because I can’t have you. You were the one thing that I could not control and I believe you will be the death of me. I keep telling myself that tomorrow will be better, that I just should keep living and enjoying life. I try to forget you but I can’t. I tell myself that I don’t care. That I don’t like you. That all I need is my family who always supported me but honestly that’s just bullshit. You are family as well. You have always supported me and the least I can do is be there for you too. I’m haunted by my memories of you. I want to talk to you so bad and a part of me is that close to giving in to temptation. But another just isn’t ready to face it. Those memories are too painful. Behind my cold exterior lies a ton of repressed feelings that I can’t seem to control. Whenever I’m with the people I love I can’t help but to think of you and wish you were there. Whenever I’m having fun and celebrating life, I can’t help but to think of you who always stood for me and cheered for me and feel grateful because this victory is also yours. In these moments, when I am the happiest, the first thing I want to do is come rushing to you to share that happiness with you. Ah you make me go crazy. I just want to leave it all behind and come back to you asap. Fuck it.

[freezerbnuuy]

Act 6:2- A Healed Bone (Page 2)

LORE | CHARACTERS | ABOUT / WARNINGS | CHAPTERS

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Owen

Áine has been unusually reclusive as of late. She's completely fixated on teaching, and whilst there are worse pursuits to be consumed by, she doesn't have much time for anything or anyone else. She hasn't spoken much about either Róisín or Reynold since Reynold left, and doesn't say much when I ask about them.

Just as I'm planning some more lessons for the week, Xander enters. Xander and I have struck up something of a friendship. I've almost come to tolerate his playful ribbing about my social stature.

"How are the alchemy lessons going?"

"Quite well. The students seem eager to learn, and they're more than considerate."

"You know, after so many years of looking after patients, it still feels a little strange to be on the other side of such things - but I'm more than appreciative of you and everyone here and the way you've accommodated me. 

I once read a pamphlet in the coffeehouse about an old healed bone found during a dig, and scientists believed it to be over ten-thousand years old. The author claimed it to be one of the first signs of a true civilisation, and said that kind of compassion is what separates us from the animals. To think that, back then, someone would spend their precious energy and resources on taking care of someone else...it seems like nothing, but I bet it meant everything - just as it does now."

A cold, swirling feeling in my chest makes me feel uncomfortable, and even the hot tea won't make it subside.

"I know many people see me these days as some kind of hero, but I ought to explain that it hasn't always been the case.

I haven't always been wholly compassionate. I cared for my patients, but I cared little for the working people or the people who couldn't afford my cures. I was unkind to my younger brother. I followed in my father's footsteps for nearly thirty years until a herbalist showed everyone - including myself - my father's true colours."

Xander chuckles in his throat. "Well, I would throw you in a cauldron and light the fire and force you to recite your sins to me as you boil to death, but alas, I'm not a Jacoban. We all regret our actions at some point in our lives, Owen. I'm sure every adult in this settlement has made mistakes.

You chose to do something about it. Billions aside, for someone of your stature to risk deeply upsetting his father, losing his lifelong career, ruining his reputation amongst the rich folk and even risking his life? Neither the Charm or Viridis families have done a single thing for the witches down on the ground."

"If it weren't for a woman named Katlego Anansi, I fear nothing would have changed. My father stole her livelihood from her - claimed she was 'competition' even though she sold her herbal remedies cheaply. Forced an apothecary to sell her contaminated herbs, who lated took his own life. Had Katlego exiled, saying she'd intentionally poisoned customers so they'd buy her remedies. She eventually went back to Henford, and from what I hear, did her part to dismantle Volpe's reputation as well."

Without Katlego, I don't think there'd be much of an uprising against witchfinders at all. It is Kat's determination for goodness and her steel spirit that allowed her stand in the faces of people that could have easily had her killed given half the chance, and it didn't stop her. The townspeople falling for Samuel's lies didn't stop her. Samuel didn't stop her. Volpe didn't stop her - and she did it all without doing any physical harm whatsoever. The Annorins had spent centuries getting what they wanted from indirectly spilling the blood of others...moreso directly from myself and Uncle Jonah.

"One moment- Katlego? That name sounds familiar."

"I'm sure it does. She's well-respected among magic-folk-"

"No, no! I was talking with Tsuna some days ago whilst out fishing and she mentioned a Katlego being back in Glimmerbrook."

She's back? If so, that's excellent news- but I fear what it may have been that brought her back.

"And you're certain?"

[samgirl98]

Mending a Family 29/?

Prev | Next

Jason gets a ghost form!

Please let me know what you think. I hope I gave Jason a good enough ghost form.

Jason woke up with the fires of hell licking his skin. He was sweating and had a high fever. Jason got up and went to the bathroom. He turned on the shower to the cold setting. When he got under it, steam rose from his skin.

What the fuck?!

There was a knock on the door.

“Jason is everything okay,” Jazz asked.

Jason wanted to laugh at the question as he saw his steaming skin. Nothing was ‘okay’. Jason didn’t know what was going on.

He turned off the shower and put on a pair of boxers. He opened the door and saw the worried faces of his family. His skin was still steaming.

“Can one of you guys call Raven?”

Surely, Raven would know what is going on.

“Daddy, your core has fully awakened.”

“What,” he asked.

“You have a fire core! I have an ice core,” Danny called a solid ice ball to his hand.

“It sucked when it first awakened. I was always so cold, and I would accidentally freeze things. Frostbite helped me control it.”

“Okay, time for Jason to go outside, now!”

“What, why,” he asked as Jazz hoarded him out of the house.

“Because I don’t want you to set the house on fire accidentally.”

“So shoving me out where there’s a bunch of flammable trees is your solution,” he asked hysterically.

At that exact moment, a few trees spontaneously combusted. Thankfully, Danny put the fire out with his ice.

“Calm down, daddy, or you’re going to burn down the whole forest.”

Calm down?

Calm down. Calm down! Breath. Calm. Cold thoughts. Ice cream, iceberg, blizzard, Mr. Freeze. Calm. Calm!

It didn’t work. His whole body caught on fire.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Thankfully, Danny stayed calm and encased his dad’s body in ice, leaving his head out so he could breathe. The ice was visibly melting, but Jason sighed at the cool around him.

“Thanks, Danny.”

His little boy’s tongue was out as he concentrated on making more ice around Jason.

Now that the rest of his body was cooled, he felt the source of the heat coming right from the middle of his chest, where his core was.

“Danny, what did you do when you discovered you had an ice core? What happened?”

“I almost froze myself to death. I went to Frostbite, my ghost doctor, to help. He taught me how to control my ice. He said I would've frozen myself if I hadn’t let go of the cold. I imagine it’s the same for you, daddy, but I don’t know where you can go to let fire out without hurting other people.”

Danny bit his lip and scrunched his eyebrows as he tried to find a solution.

“I know where I can take him,” Raven walked out of the house.

“Oh, thank God,” Jason exclaimed.

“Not quite,” Raven said, “Danny, can you unfreeze your daddy? I’ll teleport him somewhere he can’t hurt anyone while he learns to control this.”

“Okay, but only if I can go, too.”

“Danny lad, you have school,” Jason tried to argue. He didn’t want his son anywhere near him if he could hurt him.

Danny crossed his arm and stubbornly lifted his chin.

“No. Whether you like it or not, I’m the closest thing to an expert that we have. I know what he’s going through. We might have different core types, but I can help if things get out of control. Being able to control ice can help in case dad starts burning up.”

“He’s not wrong,” Jazz said. Jason glared at her. Traitor.

Raven teleported them to the middle of a desert—great, more heat.

“You’re gonna have to let some fire out, daddy. That’s what I did for my ice. I don’t know what kind of things you can do with your fire, but I can create snowballs, ice spikes, ice constructs, including swords, ice laser beams, ice cover, ecto-energy, cold energy waves, ice shields, and ice breath.”

That was a lot.

“Maybe start with producing fire,” Raven said in the form of a question.

“How? I’ve never done something like this.”

Danny shrugged, “I don’t know. It’s a part of you, dad.”

Jason took a deep breath. Unbiddenly, his time with the All-Caste came to Jason’s mind eyes. He thought about the All-Blades—blades that could only be summoned and used against the presence of evil. They were made with the essence of his soul. They were made of copper and fire. 

He put his hands out with his palms out. Jason imagined the weight of the swords; he imagined the heat coming from his chest traveling throughout his body and gathering in his hands. The two swords were sitting on his palms when he opened his eyes. They were the same as always, but a bigger flame engulfed them. Oh, and he had summoned them without the presence of evil.

“Cool,” his little boy breathed out.

“How are you feeling,” Raven asked.

The overwhelming heat licking his body had subsided when he summoned his swords.

“Better,” he swung the two swords. He wondered what Ducra would’ve thought about this predicament. He could imagine her laughing at him before telling him to get more discipline.

He sighed. The swords disappeared once he lost his concentration, but he didn’t feel the overwhelming heat return.

Throughout the day, he let little bursts of fire come out of his hand. He stared at his hands every time he did, still unbelieving what was happening to him.

Jason felt the heat of an explosion dancing over his skin. He felt his lungs being overwhelmed by smoke.

“Daddy, what’s wrong?

Danny’s voice sounded further and further away as Jason fell into the memories of his death.

The laughter, the fire, the explosion. He couldn’t breathe.

Bruce! Where are you? I need you, dad!

Raven and Danny watched as a red ring started from Jason’s waist and split in two over his body. When the ring disappeared, Jason had transformed. In his place stood a red, smoke-like creature. His hair was orange and mimicked the movement of flames. His eyes had the appearance of burning ember, and over his right breast was a purple ‘R’ in a white circle.

When Jason saw his transparent, smokey hand, he started crying. The tears would dissipate as they fell down his cheeks. He was still relieving his death. He wanted his dad; he didn’t want to die.

Please, Bruce, help me!

Jason felt cool arms encircling his waist. He looked down and saw his son’s sweet face. His eyes were glowing an ice-cold blue.

Jason returned to the present and, somehow, transformed into his human self. He fell to his knees and clung to his son. Raven sat by them, uncaring of the sand, and gave her support through her calm demeanor.

Jason held on to both of them.

Eventually, they went back home.

At least Jason wasn’t burning up anymore.

Later, when everyone was asleep, Jason transformed in front of a mirror. He didn’t know what to think about his ghost form.

I know very little about the all-blades. I had to research them, but this is fanfic, so I can do whatever I want.

@itsberrydreemurstuff @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @skulld3mort-1fan @theauthorandtheartist @emergentpanda-blog @jaggedheart11 @fisticuffsatapplebees @booberrylizard @fantasticbluebirdfan @thegatorsgooseoose @cyrwrites @kjoboo91 @crystallicedart @amaramizuki666 @spekulatiusmuffin @meira-3919 @kilasmess @bubblemixer @lexdamo @wonderland-daisy @mj-arts-n-stuff @amyheart19 @dolfay @the-church-grimm @undead-essence @aph-mable @lizisipancardo @purrloin77 @writer-extraodinaire @charlietheepic7 @sinfulloccultist @nootherusernameworked @coruscateselene @chaoticchange @itsberrydreemurstuff @gmkelz11 @feral-bunny31 @paroovian @thatonegaybitch68 @d4ydr34min9 @overtherose @fandomwandererer @vipower001 @thordottir45 @blackrabbitt3t @rosecinnamonbun @bianca-hooks123 @epilepticnerd @dat1angel @consouling @flamingenchiladadragon @all-mights-asscheeks @ender-reader @fuyu-bitch @ravenswife

[waylay-managment-2]

If they could, they'd spend days on end holding him, talking, laughing, crying, kissing, anything that would keep them closer for longer. Ro was dead already; they needed some sort of guidance for the next eternity, a purpose in this place, and that happened to arrive in the form of the person in their arms.

But it wasn't just that. They had seen Casper's face a million times before, were already well acquainted with the scratches on his arms and the nightmares and the tears and the bruises. Deep down, they knew they were meant to find him again, and this time they'd had practice.

They held his face with both their hands, looking at him though their vision was blurred, not even bothering to wipe their eyes:

"I’ve known you for longer than you'll ever realise.

You don't need fixing, you don't need to be normal for me to care about you. Please, if you let me in, let yourself be loved, you'll burn so bright, that- that nobody would ever think your fire had been put out.

It won't be easy, it's never easy, but I'll be here with you, always."

- 🐈‍⬛

(Ooc: thanks for killing me today /j)

⚠️ Tw: su1cide, gang violence, gun violence, homelessness, child abandonment ⚠️

Ooc: haha I kill you more now

*Casper looked blank for a moment, as if processing. Then he just… fell. He went limp in Ro’s arms, leaning into him. But his eyes stayed open. He looked so… done.*

“Sika found me on the side of the road. Asked if I needed help. Told me I could sleep on her couch for the night. It was winter. I was cold. I didn’t fight her on it. I figured it would just be one night. Then my dad would come to his senses. Put up missing posters. Hug me when I knocked.

“The missing posters never went up. I stayed on her couch for a week. Her fiancé Axel came over. Hugged me. Told me I’d be okay. I was fifteen. Didn’t know where else to go. Their apartment was small and they were broke but they let me stay. Once when I tried to leave Axel cried. Told me it was okay, but to send them letters to make sure I was alright. I didn’t leave. I couldn’t. I was their son.*

*Caspers breaths became shakey as his voice became louder and his tears flowed freer.*

“They took me in as their own. Included me in movie nights, got me an actual bed, hugged me when I was sad, made me wear boxing gloves when I was angry. They were my parents. Only eight years older than me but my parents. And they were happy about it. They took me to the store and bought me little trinkets and books and started to save up a college fund. They were messed up in a gang, and I was to, and we didn’t care because now all of those people were my family and I loved them all so much, and then… and then…”

*he let out a small gasp. He had to. He had to tell someone.*

“October 2003. A gunfight. I looked out from my hiding spot and they were just… lying there. I’m a puddle of their own blood. Sika was shot in the forehead. Axel had a bullet straight through the eye. Their deaths were instant. They were gone. And I ran to them. I held their already dead faces. My parents. Just… gone.”

*his voice became suddenly clear.*

“When I felt that gun on my head… I didn’t care. I looked up and it was a kid. Fifteen. Just like I was. He was trying not to cry. I held his hands steady. I smiled at him. And in the end… I don’t think he was touching the trigger at all.”

*he sounded so sure. As if saying the most normal thing in the world. But he sounded scared when he spoke next.*

“You say if I let you in I’ll be letting myself be loved. I opened the door. Whether you come in is up to you. You’re… I get it. If you want to leave. I’ll miss you, but I’ll get it.”

[seiwas]

hi sel!! #3, 23, & 24 for the end of year fanfic asks please!!

noos!! aaah thank you for sending 🥺

send me any number from this fanfic writer ask game!

#3 favorite line/scene you wrote this year

omg a favourite line is impossible bc i sadly forget what i write the moment i hit post 🥲 but i will say!! one of my fave scenes to write was the car scene from this megumi fic 🥺 mostly because it's personal to me!!

And you think, with your music playing over the comfortable silence you’ve built, being in his passenger seat one too many times—this feels nice.  Any other day and you’d hate traffic as much as the next person, but not right now.  Megumi’s eyelashes are long, pretty, stretching on for miles—and you wonder if this drive with him can extend to the length of them, if you can stay in this traffic jam a little longer just to be in this moment with him.  “Sorry, are you cold?” Megumi asks, interrupting your stare.

i always try to include 1-2 lines that feel ~satisfying bc i think my sentence constructions are really simple!! so to add some kind of dynamic to it i guess!!

#23 fics you wanted to write but didn’t

omg my wip list grows by the day noos 🥺 i wanted to write my ex!bakugo fic this year but am so intimidated by him that i struggle to start even tho i have everything in place alr 😭

there's also an escort!reader x nanami idea that i have but will probably never write 🥹 it's a skill gap on my end i think sfbsdhfsj idt i'm a good enough writer to give justice to that kind of concept!!

also wanted to write more for my iwa series this yr but figured i'd wait till next year when the hq hype comes back!!! (am gonna re-edit everything!! might reformat it too)

#24 favorite fic some unforgettable fics you read this year

noos... you opened a dam with this question... how can i possibly just choose one... are you kidding me... i can't choose one... so i'm putting everything under the cut... gonna give myself 5 per fandom 😭 (you can tell im very partial to friends to lovers 😭😭😭)

also!! there are a lot of fics in my tbr that i haven't gotten to yet!! and everything i reblog is pretty much a fic i recommend 🥹

hq!!

over the course of 24 hours by prettyiwa (iwaizumi hajime x reader) [10k. friends to lovers.] my favourite iwaizumi fic ever 🥹 i reread it once a year hence why it's here

an observer of longing by shibaraki (iwaizumi hajime x reader) [18k. friends to lovers.] took me like 4 hours to read this bc i wanted to savour it. and was lying down in bed, staring up at the ceiling crying when i was done 🥺

miya atsumu and the chronic lovesick disease by fushisagi (miya atsumu x reader) [12k. friends to lovers.] the thematic consistency in this is so good & i still think abt this to this day!!

long shots by ahtsumu (miya osamu x reader) [5k. TA!atsumu.] solidified me reading for osamu—he's soooo attractive here.

seasons by mintmatcha (hanamaki takahiro x reader) [6k. friends to lovers.] fully roped me in being a makki fucker 😭

jjk

half agony, half hope by seravphs (gojo satoru x reader) [ongoing series. knight!gojo.] superb. that's really all i can say about this. the want and tension is gripping.

wormwood by linkcities (gojo satoru x reader) [25k. friends to lovers.] heartwrenching and achey. so so good. 🥲

oh my destiny, how far you have sprung now by twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat (gojo satoru gen fic) [5k. canon divergence.] such an interesting look into something i don't normally see written on gojo. written beautifully too!

(though we may) fall apart by stellamancer (gojo satoru x reader) [4k. canon compliant ish.] amazing buildup & the tension is insane too. 🤧

keeping up with the fushigojos by augustinewrites (gojo satoru x reader)

[ongoing series. found family.] sooo cute and feel-good. their lil family lives in my mind rent free!! 🥹

bnha

i like to call myself wound but i will answer to knife by kirketeer (bakugo katsuki x reader) [59k. enemies to friends to lovers.] i reread this once a year oh my god it's one of my fave fics ever.

you had only to look at me by willowser (bakugo katsuki x reader) [7k. friends to lovers.] reread this recently and was tearing up by the end omg.

all the times i told you by gardenofnoah (bakugo katsuki x reader) [8k. established relationship.] the most teeeendeeer bakugo i've ever seen and i tear up every time i read this.

love to love you by shibaraki (midoriya izuku x reader) [2k. established relationship.] another one that's super soft. such a raw tenderness to this 🥺

nitroglycerine by alrightberries (bakugo katsuki x reader) [1k. fwb to idiots to lovers.] the dialogue here is amazing and there's so much in the unsaid i am gnawing my fist.

[lostinthewoods1991]

When Will We Stop Glorifying This Slavery?

"Get out of your comfort zone" - I think this is something most of us have heard quite often. It's one of those overused sentences that people throw around when they have nothing better to say but still want to sound motivational. Over time, I've come to question this a lot. I'm not saying one must not get out of one's comfort zone. All of us need to be challenged in good ways, yes. However, I have arrived at the conclusion that while I push myself out of comfort zones, it's equally important that I recognise my threshold at any given point of time when it comes to the stress I can bear. I've seen how people glorify the "pushing oneself out of one's comfort zone" thing to the point of breaking oneself. The only thing I got out of listening to them was that I ended up being broken and in need of recovery.

Last year, I happened to move to another city for a few months. The only experience I had staying in a hostel was at my university. But, that was different. I had people I knew, staying close by. Staying in a single room in Kochi was my choice. I wanted to come back to a room where I could just be myself, after a long day of having to fit into an environment that was new to me. But, as days passed by, I was feeling disoriented. It was my first experience of working in something like a corporate set up. Did I think I was pushing myself out of my comfort zone with all this? Yes, very much. But, I quickly recognised that the place wasn't meant for me. While I liked copywriting because it involved tasks that creatively challenged me, the workspace was nothing like I expected it to be. Things were manageable in the beginning. I was told by the boss that we were a "family". I didn't know this was her way of saying that things weren't strictly professional there and she could bend the rules just as she pleased. Everyone seemed to like her, me included. I could say I was smitten with her smile. However, the better part of me didn't quite agree with my liking for her. Despite all her charm and amiability, I felt uneasy, the moment she walked into the room. I couldn't immediately understand why this feeling persisted. I would feel myself stiffen involuntarily, my breathing becoming irregular, my heart, steadily racing. Something told me not to trust her. That there was something cold and cruel about her, that something unpleasant lurked, even under the most heartwarming of her smiles. I never trust my radar in such situations. Instead, I would brush it off as my unnecessary anxiety.

I don't know how much of this is true but I've read somewhere that children who grew up with one of their parents or both their parents being volatile would grow up to be hypervigilant, always unknowingly looking for discrepancies and subtle shifts in people's behaviour/tone/body language or even their microexpressions. People tell me I'm intuitive but in reality, I think it mostly comes down to my hypervigilance. It's not something I'm doing consciously. Anyhow, coming back to her, I assumed it was just an irrational fear of mine. But, I realised it wasn't a case of my radar going haywire.

To start with, we were constantly monitored. My part of the office was right under a surveillance camera. Every single thing, including the way I sat was being monitored. If I ever turned around even to ask some work-related doubt to somebody, my boss would send a text in the group immediately - "Hima avde entha cheyyunne?". It was tiring, being micromanaged all the time and having to explain myself always. In the beginning, she would say all the right things. Hima, you must take leave if you feel stressed out, your mental health is your most important asset and so on. It quickly changed into my occasional text requests for leave being met with her passive-aggressive "K", even if I was genuinely not well. The fact that I was unwell wasn't relevant. This was a person who couldn't care any less for her employees' physical/mental health until things got that drastic.

I wrote the paragraphs above, a few days ago. I was going to write about how trying to push myself out of my comfort zone broke me, instead of contributing to my growth. I thought I'd return to my experience in the office at Kochi later and left the writing halfway. Yesterday, I read the heart-wrenching letter written by Anna's mother who lost her daughter to the unbearable work pressure in EY. I couldn't help but feel broken myself, imagining how much stress Anna must have been through. The company I worked for in Kochi was nowhere near the scale of EY, one of the firms in the "Big Four", as they call it. Yet, it was one of the worst work-related experiences I ever had. I can only imagine how much more gruelling it would be to work for EY. Having seen the stress my cousin sister who once worked in EY used to go through, Anna's mother's words hit closer home.

I remember how hostile my boss was when I asked her, on behalf of everyone, if we could be granted a few days of work-from-home, given we were all falling sick with some of us experiencing breathing difficulties, following the Brahmapuram fire incident. It wasn't even a demand. I was only politely asking her if it would be possible. Somebody close to my hostel had died. I was terribly anxious for all obvious reasons. Instead of showing atleast a bare minimum empathy, I was cornered and intimidated by the boss, for the simple reason that I happened to be the one who asked her if it was possible for us to work from home. I guess that was when the tyrant in her woke up. How dare you even ask for something like that? She did not say that out loud but I could hear the question reaching me from across her head, through the video call. Mind you, she was at her home in Trichur and safe, while this was happening in Kochi and she refused us work-from-home. I was surprised to see how fragile her sense of control was, crumbling under a simple question I asked. She looked at me as though I was a threat to her. She told me I had to get a medical certificate that proved the cause of my throat infection was the smoke in Kochi. I remember wondering what she was high on. I decided I was going to go home, no matter what she said. It wasn't even an option anymore. I felt the need to crush her ridiculously fragile ego and that's what I did. I went home.

After I returned to the office, I was obviously not in her good books anymore. She would lash out at me for no reason, make me feel cornered, alone and intimidated. Her favourite employees were the ones who would worship her, irrespective of how she treated them, even if she made them work overtime with no compensation. A younger me would've taken more time to see her for what she was. But given I wasn't that naive anymore, I was considered a "problem maker" when I wasn't even rebelling as such and I was only asking things that should otherwise be considered normal.

All the time I worked there, I found myself reflecting on who we were in that company. Were we even human? Who was I serving? What was the meaning of what I was doing? Did it even align with my values? The system is such that it makes you stop asking these questions, shed your human qualities, slowly and steadily reducing you into a cog in a machine. Your worth as an employee rests on how much you can dehumanise yourself. On how much you can do away with your fundamental needs and rights as a human being. On how much you can reduce yourself into a blob of existence that requires no meaning in life. They would talk about "productivity" in a way that makes you believe they have your highest good on their mind. To me, it comes across as another fancy word for slavery. You might almost convince yourself that they want to bring the best out of you, when in reality, their only intention is to exploit your abilities to their advantage, with little to no regard for the person you are. In between, they would provide you with a few, minimal things that vaguely remind you of your humanness, just so they can claim later that they had cared for their employees' well-being. This is what a small company made me feel. I had to get out to preserve my sanity and in the months that followed, I was left feeling disillusioned.

Despite being aware of all this, parents would still brag if their kids get into firms like EY. Youngsters would still believe it's for their best. After all, it would look good on their resumes. What a world! Here, I am at a loss for words.

RIP, Anna.

[shamera]

NaNo day 26

Originally in my head, there's one more scene before part 1 ends, but this might be the best place to end it?

I'll write it anyway and then see, but this might be the place to end today's bit! Gotta go back and change a few things too, especially since I was struggling on translating most things to English but honestly I have finally given up with how fdb addresses his aunt. He calls her 小姨 in the series, and while I normally just translate that as small aunt (at least I did in previous stories), I never had him CALL her that before, because that just sounds weird in translation. So I might have to go back and change all the 'small aunt' into 'xiao-yi' in this story instead just because just sounds better.

(Also, people just don't address family members as like 'big uncle' or something in English, because they include a name there. But in Mandarin that just sounds like you're not actually related to them, because you can call all your parents' friends aunts and uncles, too.)

Also in my head, it was 黑暗 for what I translated to "the Black", which. Uh. Well, the translation worked in my head as I was writing, but I'm a terrible terrible translator.

“No, tell me now.” Fang Duobing said, hand tightening to a bruising grip around Li Lianhua’s wrist. “Tell me what actually happened. Tell me the truth.”

“Tell you what, that you just fell right into some psychedelic core of a dungeon boss?” Li Lianhua bluffed, deceptively nonchalant. “Whatever you saw, we don’t have time to unpack all of that. This dungeon is going to start falling apart in moments, and—”

Fang Duobing refused to let go. “No one’s destroyed an active dungeon in ten years. How would you know that?”

Fang Duobing thought, maybe, maybe it would be easier if Li Lianhua just said it outright. If Li Lianhua would stop trying to yank out of his grip, as if he was really weak Li Lianhua again rather than someone Fang Duobing had just seen take down a dungeon boss. 

He felt strange, like the darkness really was clinging to him, like he was hovering just right above his body, like his actions made sense to him and were guided by his thoughts but there was a barrier between what he was thinking and feeling, and what he was actually doing. 

He felt untethered by the recent realisations. 

“Fang Duobing,” and here Li Lianhua’s tone grew harsher as Fang Duobing continued to cling to him. “Why must you insist on this? Isn’t it enough to survive the dungeon? What if I say I’ll explain it all to you later?”

“You’d just run away,” Fang Duobing already knew this. “You’d run away until you could come up with a suitable lie for yourself, and then you won’t say even if I already know that you’re lying. Li Lianhua. I’ve been your friend for two years now, haven’t I? I have always considered you my friend even though I was never sure what you thought. And I’ve told you—”

Drunken rambling under starry skies about his dreams of being a Hunter, of living up to Li Xiangyi’s legacy, of breaking free from familial expectations to forge his own path. Of his aspirations. 

“—I told you everything about myself.” Fang Duobing finished lamely, the force of his anger deflating into a disappointment that cored him. He was starting to get feeling in his limbs again, and his legs were tingling. His grip felt stiff, like he was using one hand to hold onto Li Lianhua, and his other to hold something else. 

Wait. He was holding onto something else. 

Li Lianhua was quiet in the darkness for a moment, and then a cold hand patted the grip Fang Duobing had on him. 

“Later,��� Li Lianhua amended. “I’ll explain later. You always manage to find me. How could I run away?”

What had Fang Duobing expected? Li Lianhua was reluctant to part with the truth at the best of times, never mind when he was forced into a situation where he had to say something real. It was likely the best he was going to get from the man.  With that, his grip started to loosen, only to tense as the smell of acrid smog permeated his senses. Immediately following the smell was the rumbling of the ground underneath them, different from the fight before as this was a more even spread, like the world itself was starting to shake itself apart, evenly and building with each second. 

“Time to go.” Li Lianhua said briskly, and hauled Fang Duobing up to his feet unceremoniously. The younger man stumbled for half a second before resting his weight on protesting legs, unable to see the ground or where they might be going. “Hold on, then. This is going to feel— strange.”

Then Li Lianhua was pulling him along, grabbing onto his wrist in return as the two of them raced along the unstable ground, soon joined by the sounds of thousands of skittering feet, yet their path was unimpeded. Fang Duobing didn’t know where they were going, didn’t know how Li Lianhua knew where to go in the darkness.

“Which way?” Fang Duobing called out in a panic as they ran. 

“Any!” Li Lianhua called back. “The edge of the dungeon is closing in, and we just have to pass it—”

And there it was— the faint purple glow associated with gates, except it was appearing in front of them endlessly, like a light to cross through. Within the glow, he could now see the shapes of endless monsters, none of them paying the two of them any attention as they crashed against the purple gate, climbing atop each other and flooding the ground, but unable to pass through. 

Apprehension slowed him as they approached, even with the shaking underneath growing worse and crashing sounds coming from behind them. Li Lianhua continued to pull at him, displaying uncharacteristic strength as they ran, and then soon they came upon the gate and they were going to be okay and then afterward Fang Duobing was going to tie Li Lianhua to a pole and refuse to let him go until he got answers—

It was like hitting a solid wall. 

Perhaps not a solid wall, as Fang Duobing nearly bounced back from the impact, as the feeling had been evenly spread rather than hitting at a single point of impact. He nearly let go of Li Lianhua, who didn’t have the same problem, but the man didn’t let go of his wrist. 

Li Lianhua stopped at Fang Duobing’s sound of pain and the jerk backward, the purple light now bright enough to see each other clearly. “What—?”

Within a moment, his stunned expression changed toward something strange. 

“Put that down, drop it right now.” Li Lianhua ordered, and reached to yank at Fang Duobing’s other hand. “You can’t— bring things from the Black, how did you even—?”

In his hand, the one curled into a death group, was a ball the size of his palm, like a black pearl shimmering against the purple light. Fang Duobing hadn’t even noticed— or rather, he had, yet the knowledge managed to escape his attention somehow. 

“What?” He asked, mind blank as he stared down at the ball in his hand. His fingers were caught in a death grip, like it wasn’t his own hand at all. For a moment, he shook his wrist, but still couldn’t let go of it. “I… I can’t?”

Li Lianhua was prying at his fingers, backlit by the purple light, the creatures of the dungeon swarming around them in panic, each of them hitting the same wall that Fang Duobing had. 

The gate seemed to be pushing them back, skidding them across the unstable ground, drawing to a smaller and smaller point as they attached to detach the ball from Fang Duobing. In the distance, he could see the extent of the gate, of it encroaching from the opposite side, from all sides. It really was drawing in like it would crush everything within the dungeon. 

“Let go,” Li Lianhua told him, a heavy panic in his tone. His fingers were pale even in the purple light, pulling at Fang Duobing’s. Fang Duobing was trying, he really was, but it was an involuntary reaction, like reacting to getting shocked, like electric currents running along his nerves now that he knew where to look in order to feel it. 

“I’m trying!” Fang Duobing protested, and both wrestled with his hand as they were pushed back by the gate, and the shove of monster bodies began to press in against them. He shook at his own hand in a panic, trying to help Li Lianhua in prying his fingers open. 

They got one finger, and then another, and the carapaces of the creatures around them were pressing in tight, stuck in the nonspace between the dungeon and the magic of the gate until it felt hard to breathe. 

Around them, the dungeon was starting to disappear, the bits of stone illuminated  falling into nothing at all, and even the monsters starting to disappear into nothingness. 

“Got it!” Li Lianhua called, and then he was holding onto the orb with both hands, looking up in victory. “Now we go—”

He dropped the orb just as they were swallowed by the purple light. 

— 

He Xiaofeng was yelling at the representatives from Wansheng Sect when Hunters started pouring out of the gate in a flurry, her arm in a sling as the medic next to her attempted to gently dissuade her from aggravating her injuries to no avail. 

“What do you mean the dungeon is collapsing?” She shouted, her good hand around the collar of the representative’s throat. He was a good head taller than her with a tired slant to his eyes and chin-length hair wearing a button up with Hunter accessories. He must have introduced himself at some point, but she didn’t care for his name unless she needed Tianji Hall to start legal shit against him. “Dungeons don’t collapse!”

Not unless the dungeon boss was defeated, and that wasn’t something anyone attempted in the past decade. Not to mention the difficulty of it, and the fact that she doubted Wansheng Sect could manage it at all.

Wansheng Sect was a shit sect, in her opinion, but they were apparently high ranked and the ones who came first at the call of a newly formed dungeon with people caught up in it, and the members apparently already rescued the rest of her employees. To them, it was He Xiaofeng and her group who had been unlucky as the rescue operations were well underway even when they had been waiting and running, yet when she dragged Bei Yun to them, yelling at the top of her lungs that her nephew was still in there, that she was fit to go back in if she had to in order to rescue him and Physician Li despite her injuries, so long as they provided backup to obtain more crystal shards— 

They refused to let her back in! She was a qualified Hunter, even if she never trained for search and rescue in dungeons before. 

“Do you know who I am?” She asked, voice low and dangerous as she dragged the man down to her level to brush her nose against his, glaring him down. The wailing of sirens around them and the overwhelming scent of ozone from the gate was only infuriating her more, feeling like a sensory overload to go with stupid men who would dismiss her. “Do you know who my nephew is? If you think your Wansheng Sect can withstand the wrath of Tianji Hall—”

Technically, Tianji Hall was a tech company intermediary between Hunter sects and the government, but they had authority the same way Baichuan Court was given authority to police Hunters. 

“Ma’am, please,” the medic next to her said, voice pained. “We’re already short staffed and don’t need more injuries to see to right now.”

She refused to let up on her grip, even as the man started choking in her grasp, hands coming up to claw at her in vain. 

“Send people through,” she demanded. “Send people through or let me through, or so help me—”

The gate was getting smaller and smaller, had been for the past minute or so, and her panic grew inversely. What would she tell her sister, her brother-in-law— 

“Xiao-yi!”

She released the man immediately, paying no mind as he tumbled to the ground and instead turning on her heel toward her nephew’s voice. 

“Xiaobao!” She gasped out, already pushing past both Bei Yun and the medic to jog toward the figures that appeared out of the gate. He was covered, absolutely slathered, in a black substance that looked like it was slowly wisping away in the air, evaporating into nothingness to reveal bruises and dried blood and torn clothes. 

Li Lianhua was similarly drenched, hair out of his usual neat bun to cover his face and drape over Xiaobao’s shoulder, his form limp carried across Fang Duobing’s back. 

“Xiao-yi,” he gasped out again, just as she reached him to grab onto his shoulders, too worried to know what to do or what to say first. “Help.”

And then his legs gave out underneath him, just as the team of medics converged on them.

[ofpd]

anyway top five les mis moments that could put someone in a hospital

ok i am so biased towards certain characters but here are some devastating scenes (devastating lines are a different category to me). under the cut as an excuse to post longass passages. bolded lines are my fave parts of the scenes

this whole scene in 3.7.4 is cray but at a highlight is when eponine says this

I often go off in the evening. Sometimes I don’t come home again. Last winter, before we came here, we lived under the arches of the bridges. We huddled together to keep from freezing. My little sister cried. How melancholy the water is! When I thought of drowning myself, I said to myself: ‘No, it’s too cold.’ I go out alone, whenever I choose, I sometimes sleep in the ditches. Do you know, at night, when I walk along the boulevard, I see the trees like forks, I see houses, all black and as big as Notre Dame, I fancy that the white walls are the river, I say to myself: ‘Why, there’s water there!’ The stars are like the lamps in illuminations, one would say that they smoked and that the wind blew them out, I am bewildered, as though horses were breathing in my ears; although it is night, I hear hand-organs and spinning-machines, and I don’t know what all. I think people are flinging stones at me, I flee without knowing whither, everything whirls and whirls. You feel very queer when you have had no food.

in 4.12.3, after grantaire has gotten drunk instead of lamarque's funeral and the barricades are being built

Enjolras, who was standing on the crest of the barricade, gun in hand, raised his beautiful, austere face. [...]

“Grantaire,” he shouted, “go get rid of the fumes of your wine somewhere else than here. This is the place for enthusiasm, not for drunkenness. Don’t disgrace the barricade!”

This angry speech produced a singular effect on Grantaire. One would have said that he had had a glass of cold water flung in his face. He seemed to be rendered suddenly sober. He sat down, put his elbows on a table near the window, looked at Enjolras with indescribable gentleness, and said to him:— “Let me sleep here.”

“Go and sleep somewhere else,” cried Enjolras.

But Grantaire, still keeping his tender and troubled eyes fixed on him, replied:— “Let me sleep here,—until I die.”

Enjolras regarded him with disdainful eyes:— “Grantaire, you are incapable of believing, of thinking, of willing, of living, and of dying.”

Grantaire replied in a grave tone:— “You will see.”

there are a bunch of iconic exr quotes back to back in 4.1.6 and im not even including all of them here

“What about me?” said Grantaire. “Here am I.”

“You?”

“I.”

“You indoctrinate republicans! you warm up hearts that have grown cold in the name of principle!”

“Why not?”

“Are you good for anything?”

“I have a vague ambition in that direction,” said Grantaire.

“You do not believe in everything.”

“I believe in you.”

“Grantaire will you do me a service?”

“Anything. I’ll black your boots.”

“Well, don’t meddle with our affairs. Sleep yourself sober from your absinthe.”

this in 5.1.8... love both the times that enjy kills a guy but the other one is more sexy and this one is more devastating

The captain of the piece was a handsome sergeant of artillery, very young, blond, with a very gentle face, and the intelligent air peculiar to that predestined and redoubtable weapon which, by dint of perfecting itself in horror, must end in killing war.

Combeferre, who was standing beside Enjolras, scrutinized this young man.

“What a pity!” said Combeferre. “What hideous things these butcheries are! Come, when there are no more kings, there will be no more war. Enjolras, you are taking aim at that sergeant, you are not looking at him. Fancy, he is a charming young man; he is intrepid; it is evident that he is thoughtful; those young artillery-men are very well educated; he has a father, a mother, a family; he is probably in love; he is not more than five and twenty at the most; he might be your brother.”

“He is,” said Enjolras.

“Yes,” replied Combeferre, “he is mine too. Well, let us not kill him.”

“Let me alone. It must be done.”

And a tear trickled slowly down Enjolras’ marble cheek.

can't make a list of devastating les mis scenes without eponines death :) this isn't the whole thing but i did want to have some limit on how long this post was

“Now, for my trouble, promise me—”

And she stopped.

“What?” asked Marius.

“Promise me!”

“I promise.”

“Promise to give me a kiss on my brow when I am dead.—I shall feel it.”

She dropped her head again on Marius’ knees, and her eyelids closed. He thought the poor soul had departed. Éponine remained motionless. All at once, at the very moment when Marius fancied her asleep forever, she slowly opened her eyes in which appeared the sombre profundity of death, and said to him in a tone whose sweetness seemed already to proceed from another world:—

“And by the way, Monsieur Marius, I believe that I was a little bit in love with you.”

She tried to smile once more and expired.

[autumn-foxfire]

THE LAST WIZARD OF THE CENTURY TIME!

Sorry I just had to announce how excited I was for this in caps. I mean it's my boys T-T

Kaito it's not fair that you're so beautiful.

Shinichi, you will capture him, you'll capture his heart. But not before he steals yours.

I love when Kaito uses puzzles as heist notes T-T Though the movies play more into it than the anime does. I love this scene though, Kaito has pissed off so many police officers, he's doing the world a great service :p

The famous quiz time that I will never be able to understand as they play on the Japanese language and I am an uncultured person who only knows one language.

Heiji your gay is showing again. He was so excited to see Shinichi again, it's a shame Shinichi came to see another man XD

"Don't try, they grew up together." Ran, that does not mean Kazuha owns him now. Any girl is allowed to try, it's up to Heiji to turn them down if he truly loves Kazuha.

"They remind me of you and Shinichi." and it's Heiji and Kazuha arguing. So romantic <.< I'm going to give myself a headache from rolling my eyes so much.

So, I need to say this at least once, but this movie would have been the perfect time to make Shinichi and Kaito related. This movie is all about family, yet instead he uses it to further develop the bond between Shinichi and Kaito by making Kaito protect Shinichi, both his life and then his identity. It just tells me that recent developments were never actually planned and I will die on this hill.

I love how allergic Heiji is to calling Shinichi Conan XD

Shinichi knowing Kaito so well that he's weirded out by his message when everyone else is willing to just call it arrogance. Because they have a connection they don't have with others~

Your secret should come out, Shinichi, it's a stupid secret for a stupid plot.

Grown men being ridiculous... That is not a surprise.

Kaito and his love for tall buildings. It must be cold up there though. Next time he should take a small person with him to steal his warmth.

Kaito: just some mild property damage.

Add Shinichi into the mix and that property damage increases.

Shinichi does not give a crap about risks to himself as long as he can catch KID. That boy is ~captivated~

Shinichi showing off his mad skateboard skills by falling off a motorbike and landing perfectly onto his skateboard.

The dove T-T You don't understand how much I love this dove and love when writers include it in their fanfiction. Because Shinichi (and Ran) go above and beyond by caring for it when they didn't have to.

Again, Shinichi knows there is a greater reason for Kaito targeting the egg even though he doesn't know why. And he has such great trust in Kaito's ability to survive T-T

Why did Sonoko just drag Shinichi away? It didn't have to do with leaving Ran alone with a pretty girl was it (sorry I have several agendas and I am pushing all of them during this watch).

Shinichi just sharing his birthday forgetting that Ran would know it and make a connection between him and Conan. I hate that she thinks she's dumb for thinking about him and making the connection though, that's what all the gaslighting by Shinichi and his supporters have done to her and it honestly angers me so much.

And of course Shinichi didn't notice the shift in her mood either <.<

What a disgusting thing to say... I'm not surprised it came from Kogoro. News tip, women don't want to be flirted with like this, especially by men almost twice their age.

Kaito, that was an unnecessary comment, beside you know the true shinigami is someone else.

Don't worry Shinichi, Kaito is just admiring your skills.

Once again, I'm supposed to believe Shinichi loves Ran when he can't even notice she's acting strangely (but he notices Kaito's more observant behaviour of him immediately).

Kaito what was with that look?

Ran is literally only here to be sad. The role she's often reduced to by the series. God the disrespect to her as a character, it makes me so mad <.< Even moments when she's "discovering Shinichi" it's so she can be sad about it for Shinichi's own feelings (instead of mad like she deserves to be for herself). Oh and she's here to hush her father so Shinichi can work.

Kaito probably knew the password the whole time but had to keep quiet so the others would figure it out XD

Okay these kids are covered in cuts and bruises, that wouldn't have been a soft slide for them.

Haibara, the biggest enabler XD

Kaito, the only responsible adult around. And he's a teenager.

Haibara is so smug about this XD

"Borrowed," Kaito we all know you stole it.

It's a very good thing Agasa was smart and didn't jump in after the kids and instead went to find rope.

Kogoro has been so annoying in this film, I'm glad Haibara shouted at him.

Shinichi taunting the murder with the voices of people she's killed though. Incredibly fucked up of him XD

Shinichi to a criminal: bet you won't shoot bro (sike I knew you would and prepared for that)

And Kaito still saves your life though :p

Kaito: SHINICHI GET OUT OF THE BURNING BUILDING. YOU CAN FIGURE MY IDENITY OUT LATER NOW IS NOT THE TIME.

Shinichi is so dramatic, he let them believe he was dead for a moment before calling out to them XD

Time for the gayest moment of this film <3

I will say it though, the characters in this series cry so prettily. It's just that we hate Ran crying over this because it can be avoided so easily.

"This love song is playing for Shinichi and Ran." WRONG, IT'S PLAYING FOR SHINICHI AND KAITO (let me be delusional).

Kaito doesn't need to show off like this with his doves but he needs to put on one for Shinichi, kind of like how a bird dances to show off to a mate. He's also showing Shinichi all their future children (the doves).

[camdendaylight]

a/n: this is gonna be a one shot inspired by the song willow off of taylor swift's evermore. this does not include taylor as a character in any way. enjoy!

tropes: childhood best friends to lovers; family issues; good girl x bad boy; strict parents; neighbours to lovers; fluff; teenage love

Wait for the signal and I'll meet you after dark. 

My old rusty window creaked, when I shoved it open, the cold autumn breeze setting off a series of shivers that ran down my body. I was wrapped up in my usual checkered coat, determined to step out on the rooftop of our garage in front of me, but the unexpected sound I had caused made me look back at my door in fear. I was supposed to be asleep by now, but instead my mind was wide awake and hesitant, debating on whether this was a good idea. 

It was not like I had never done this before, sneaking out when I though they weren't gonna notice my absence. Actually I had done it ever since I was child, when I first befriended with the kid that had just moved into the house next to ours. I was ten, back then. Now, as a sixteen year old, my parents were still treating me the same. Don't do this, don't do that, that's what I heard most times in the exact same tone out of both of their mouths. It was never: What do you want to do?

What I wanted to do in that moment was to leave, so that's what I did. They couldn't control me in the nighttime, I thought. As soon as the sun set and the moon lit up the lake where our garden met the pure nature of the forest, I was free. Free from them, free from schoolwork and extracurriculars, free from all my worries. The only thing left controlling me was the sound of my phone going off every few seconds as I squeezed myself through the tiny gab between the windowsill and my open window.  

"You coming?", I read on the dimmed screen and rolled my eyes at the text I had received. It wasn't as easy as you might think to escape out of this old house my mother had inheritated from my grandparents. Patience was the key, otherwise I would get caught. Even though it was mostly dark outside, I knew ever single step that I had to take on the wooden panels in order for them to be as quiet as possible. That was one of the positive effects that came with doing this for six years.

I didn't reply to the message, I just shoved my phone in the pocket of my coat and carefully made my way to the edge, where I sat down. The hardest part was yet to come, since I had to climb down gutter that was always shaking more the my adrenaline ridden hands. On top of that, the coldness of the imminent winter withdrew all the feelings out of my fingers, making it even more challenging for me to grip onto the metal pipe. 

Halfway through, I received another notification that frightened me so much, that I lost all of my strength. My feet slipped from the icy surface and butt forward I plopped down on the wet grass to the sound of a thud, as I pressed my lips together to keep myself from crying out in pain. It wasn't that painful though, since the I hadn't been that high up anymore, but still, my hands were now covered in mud and so was my coat, that covered my hurting behind. 

Thankfully, I had not drawn any attention from inside the house to myself with my graceful fall, since it seemed to be exceptionally quiet around me. I stood up, shaking my hands, then patting on the back of the coat, trying to get rid of all the dirt. It was useless, my mother was for sure gonna see the stain it had left. I would just have to hide the coat or tell her that I've had a ball kicked into my butt school. Both options were terrifying, if you knew my mother. Lying to her was a sin. 

I let out a deep breath I was apparently holding, before turning around to finally make my way to my well known destination. My boots were making funny squishing noises as I stomped towards my neighbors garden through ours, passing the fireplace my dad had set up ages ago and the trampoline we used to jump on as kids. There was no fence or any sort of border separating each of our properties, but I knew when the bushes around me weren't as perfectly trimmed anymore I was that I was overstepping the line.

In the back of their garden, close to the lake and far away from their house, the majestic willow tree opened up in front of me, its branches moving to the rhythm of the november wind. Every night I had been sneaking out here, yet the astonishing view of the scenery never failed to fill me with awe. As I reached the massive trunk, my expression turned into a frown. This was our usual meeting spot, our secret place of comfort, but there was no sight of my companion. "Dylan?"

"Sup?", a familar voice called in an obnoxiously relaxed tone and I leaned my head into my neck to look up. I was frightened once again, even though I should have known that he would never bail on me. He never did. So it shouldn't have been a surprise that he was simply hiding not under, but inside of the tree, casually sitting on one of the more stable branches that were not swaying around. As so often, there was smirked plastered on his face, his hazel eyes directed downwards, to me. 

"Jesus, you scared me!", I let out, taking in the sight of my childhood best friend and neighbor hovering above. He was wearing dark jeans, an olive sweater and a grey windbreaker on top, a black beanie covering most of his brown curls. He looked like the complete opposite of me, bold and edgy, wich he was. He was the complete opposite of me, still we got along very well, for the most part. "How on earth do you have the energy to climb all the way up?"

"Well first of all, I just left right through the front door of my house", he said with a chuckle, knowing I had to go completely out of the way to even make it to the tree were our initials were carved into the bark. He never had to worry about his parents finding out about our late night meeting. They probably knew about and didn't care. Or they didn't know, but wouldn't care. "And secondly, I didn't just fall six feet down on my ass. So-"

"You saw that?! Great another thing you're gonna make fun of me for till you die", I huffed, rolling my eyes at him. For the last six years, he had been making fun of me for every single time I had slipped, tripped, stumbled. I was used to it my now, as much as I was used to our daily meetings by the willow tree. We had made it to our own, shortly after we had met for the first time, when the old pair from next doors passed away and left behind their empty house with the overgrown garden and Dylan's parents decided to leave the city to live in a quieter area. 

"I'm gonna make fun of you even after I die. I'm gonna haunt you as a ghost and play tricks on you and then watch you get scared", he said sticking his tongue out to me, before climbing down a few branches, only to jump the remaining six feet. I could have done it the same way with the gutter, I thought to myself, as I crossed my arms in front of my chest, watching him. He was now leaning against the trunk. "Are you cold?"

"What does look like?", I said sticking my tongue out to him in return. The autumn breeze had struck me once again and I was shivering, which he seemed to have noticed in the same way he always seemed to notice if I wasn't well, which was often, but lately more and more often. Sill, I fired back jokingly, "No, I'm hot actually. Don't you feel the heat of the sun burning on your skin?"

"Give me your hands", he demanded, stretching his out to me. I looked from his face down to his hands and back up to his eyes in mistrust. A dubious frown creased my forehead, my pale fingers clung to the material of my coat. I was convinced that he was messing with me, probably planning something to embarrass me, scare me or make me fall again, but he chuckled at my hesitation. "Come on, I'm trying to help."

"But they are dirty", I said, holding my hands up for him to see the dirt that the wet grass had left on them from my fall a few minutes ago. He rolled his eyes, followed by sigh and slowly realization hit me that he was indeed being serious and that he didn't care about them being dirty. In desperate need of some sort of warmth, no matter what kind, I was willing to give in. "I swear if you lick my hand or some shit like that, I'm gonna cut your head off."

"Aspen, if you're dearest mother could hear the way you're speaking-", Dylan began laughing and I playfully clipped his ear, before ultimately placing my hands in his. The tip of my frozen finger brushed along the palm of his hand sending an electric impulse through my numb limbs, that I tried not to question. The skin on his hands felt rough against mine, yet transported the warmth I needed into not just my hands, but my whole body apparently. The heat was starting to get to my head. 

Staring at my hands in his, seemingly in disbelief that I had agreed to this, he thankfully hadn't noticed yet how much this effected me all of the sudden. But his laughter died down completely, when he looked up. The hazel of his eyes met the blue of mine, setting my cheeks into an undeniable red flush. I was sure he noticed then, but he didn't say anything, at least for awhile, until a devilish smirk formed on his unreadable face. "Aspen, are you- Are you blushing?"

"That's just the heat of the sun", I replied sarcastically, but in a rather startled manner, taking a step back in order to pull my hands away, but he wouldn't let me. Instead he tightened his grip, his mischievous gaze dropping down to what I assumed were my lips. Another shiver ran down my spine in response, this time though, it was not caused by the autumn breeze. I wasn't cold anymore, my heart was rapidly pumping blood into my overworked brain. Why was I feeling this way? I had no idea, but it scared the hell out of me. 

"Hold on, I think you're bleeding", Dylan said in a serious tone, that I wasn't grazed with very often. I breathed a sight of relief, because whatever my first assumption was, turned out to be wrong, but only then I fully registered what he had just said to me. Now that he mentioned it, I could actually taste the iron in my dried out mouth. "Dang, that fall must have been a lot more brutal than it looked from the distance. I'm sorry for making fun of you."

His right hand let go of mine, but only so his index finger could reach for my bruised lip. Before he actually touched the sensible spot though, an invisible force inside of me made me turn my head away as fast as I could. "Wait what?!", I cried out, now using all of my strength to create some distance between us. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I opened the front camera to inspect the results of my little accident. I must have bitten my own lips when I landed on the ground earlier. "Sh*t. What am I gonna tell you parents when they see this?"

"Tell them you were absentmindedly chewing on your own lip, you do that all the time anyway", he said chuckling lightly and my irritated eyes flickered from my screen to him. He was right, I had caught myself chewing on my lip many time. It was foolish habit of mine that my parents, particularly my mother hated as much as she hated my phone going off at the dinner table whenever Dylan texted me. She had always noticed, but I never figured Dylan had noticed too. 

"You know what? I-I gotta go", I stuttered, feeling a tremendous urge to flee from the situation and the intimacy it had oddly created. The fact that he recalled such a minor observation about me shouldn't have confused me, especially since I also noticed how eyebrow twitched every time when he was trying to figure something, to figure me out, like in this moment. With my eyes averted and the tip of my toes pointing back at our house, I set off, mumbling some last words. "We'll talk more tomorrow."

"Same spot, same time?", he called after me, forming his hands that previously held mine into a megaphone, because I had already made it back to the perfectly trimmed bushes while he was still leaning against the trunk. I nodded hastily, my mouth not allowing another word to slip out, and soon enough his tall figure was blurred out by the fog. When I reached the spot of flattened grass where I had plopped down earlier, I was shaking out of fear, not of my parents, but of him.

Rough on the surface but you cut through like a knife.

A warmth was surrounding me as I was absentmindedly poking around my plate of peas in front of me. The warmth came from the heater, and unlike the warmth I had received the day before while standing under the willow tree in the garden next to ours, it didn't reach my inside. My expression was a cold as I was feeling, being crumped up in the house that should have been my place of comfort, but rather turned into a place of constant surveillance and judgement.

"Aspen, dear, what happened to your lovely coat?", my Mom asked me, as expected, while we were having dinner in our fairly suburban dining room. I was sitting opposite of my parents on the wooden table that was as old as my rusty window since it had once belonged to my grandparents. The only thing that was new in this house was the glass front to my right. "I found it all dirty stashed under your bed. It was expensive. It has to be cleaned, dried and ironed properly."

"You were in my room?", I replied in a sharp tone, refusing to answer her question before I would accidentally expose myself. My question though was enough for my farther, who had just gotten home from work, to clear his throat as a sign of warning, reminding me of the right way I was supposed to be speaking to them, friendly, innocently, like a child. I curled my lips into a smile. Raising my tongue behind my top teeth, I said, "Of course you were"

"Honey, we're your parents. We are obligated to know what's going on in your life or what you're hiding from us in that case", my Mom said, noticing the sarcasm in my voice. "And don't think we haven't noticed the bruise on your lip. Have you gotten that while rustling through the streets with the Hollis boy or is it just another consequence of your constant daydreaming that's keeping you from actually doing your school work lately?"

"What?!", I said in disbelief, dropping the fork down on my porcelain plate to the sound of a horrendous clink, causing my father to slam his massive hand on the table top. My head started spinning and I was sure that my face must have looked as pale as grandmas finest porcelain. Not only did she just hint at knowing that I had been sneaking out to meet Dylan, she also blamed him for something that wasn't even close to the truth. 

Okay, maybe I had been a little distracted when I was in class that day, thinking about my hands in his and how weirdly my body reacted to a touch I had felt multiple times before, but any other day my parents were the root of my worries. I was often with my head in the clouds, but only because I was imaging how the future, how my future might look like. I wished for freedom more than anything else, a freedom, as it turned out, I was more than far away from.

"We've been watching you", my Mother admitted finally and I felt my heart drop down to the wooden floor that was covered in a crimson red rug. "I had heard weird noises coming from the roof of the garage a few days ago and immediately had a feeling something must be wrong. I went to check up on you, but you were gone. I didn't say anything that night, because I wanted to find out who you were doing all this childish nonsense for."

"Do you have any idea how scared I was?! Underaged drinking, drug abuse, physical violence, who knows what teenager are up to these days", she said, causing me to shift my gaze to the glass front and therefore to the majestic willow tree I could see in the distance. Her voice had started to become more and more angry. A tone I had been used hearing from her, but it had never been that intimidating to me, even though she was talking nonsense. "Although, I wouldn't be surprised if that Dylan guy would expose you to such things. You're not gonna see him anymore!"

"Mom, he's my best friend! He does neither of those things! You can't forbid me to spent time with him!", I snapped, turning my head back to face her. Her face was flushed with anger. I had never raised my voice at her before, but I couldn't believe the imagine she had of him. I was expecting to be in trouble once she found out about my nightly adventure, but I had never thought about the possible consequence of not being allowed to see him. We didn't do anything. Teary eyed, I sought for some empathy from my farther. "Dad, say something!"

"Do not raise your voice at us, young lady!", my Mom chimed back in, before my dad could even get rid of his omnipresent pokerface. My mother always spoke for the two of them. "He can't be your best friend if he's distracting you from school. He probably doesn't care about his grades, but you should care about yours. He's not good for your academic performance and for you in general. We're gonna talk to his parents and tell them about his foolish actions. Hopefully they can talk some sense into him. This has to stop once and for all!"

Dylan may not have been the perfect student or a perfectly well behaved child, and although he sometimes made fun of me, he was still kind and compassionate when it was necessary. In fact, he was one of the few things I had consider to actually be good for me. He got me out of my comfort zone, made me explore new places and kept me from being buried in books for too long whenever I needed a break but wouldn't allow myself to take one. The day they moved in was blessing to me, but rather a curse to my mom. 

My mom had made a cake for them as a welcome gift and forced me to tag along when she brought it over. Always having been a lot bolder than me, Dylan opened the door. A few days later, he had dared me to climb all the way up the willow tree, but I was way too scared and didn't make it past the lowest branches. Still, I had managed to fall down, breaking my arm in the same motion. Ever since then, my mom was convinced that he meant trouble, ever since then the two of us were inseparable. 

I stared at the green pieces of perfection in front of me and suddenly couldn't bear their sight anymore. I had never been allowed to leave the dining table before everyone had finished their dinner, neither I did I feel hungry anymore, nor could I sit still for another second with my parents blaming the one person that brought some light into the darkness that had become my life for all that went wrong in their eyes.

I stood up, wiping away the tear that was rolling down my reddened cheek and stepped closer to the glass front. The weather was similar to the night's before, but the fog had cleared up slightly, at least for my vision. The willow tree was drawing me outside, but as soon as I placed my hand on the door handle, I was stopped. "Where do you think you're going?!", my Mom scowled from behind me. "You're grounded, if you're finished, go in your room, but don't you dare try sneaking out on the roof!"

Head on the pillow, I could feel you sneaking in.

Staring at the closed door to my left that was separating my room from the hallway that lead to my parents bedroom, a thunderstorm of thoughts was roaming around in my pounding head, while simultaneously a drought of empty emotions settled in my body. I had watched the light in the hallway go on and off, sometimes it had flicked through the small gap under the door, when footsteps approached and passed. For a while now there had been no light, no sound, no motion. 

I had no idea what time it was, even though there was an alarm clock on the nightstand to my right, but I hadn't bothered to turn around just yet. My gaze had been set on the door, as I laid in my bed with my head on the pillow, it would have been too heavy to be hold up anyway. On top of that, my parents had taken my phone away from me for the night. My reckless behavior had caused me yet another rule I had to follow, meaning I had to hand them my phone after dinner every day from now on. 

The salty liquid that had previously been leaking from eyes had dried out, same as my anger, but I knew that both of those things would come back as soon as I was fully gonna realized that I was not gonna be able to meet up with Dylan at our secret spot anymore from now on, that I was not gonna go over to his house after school to eat his mother's delicious chocolate chip cookies anymore from now on, that he was not gonna make fun of me for slipping, tripping, stumbling anymore from now on. 

As expected, the thunderstorm of thoughts won over the emptiness and caused a river of tears to escape down my face and land on my pillow. I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping to finally fall asleep. A rustling near my window by the foot of my bed made me shoot them wide open though. I could feel my heart pounding against my ribcage up until it reached my throat when I lifted my head up in fear. A tall figure was standing outside on the roof, rightfully struggling to get in. 

"Dylan?", I let out quietly as if I hadn't just identified the person trying to break in by their silhouette. I jumped out of my duvets, now being more scared that my parents would hear my rusty old window creaking than by the intruder himself and helped him by carefully shoving it open. In front of me stood indeed my very concerned looking neighbor, disguised by the hood of his windbreaker. I must have looked about the same amount of concerned. "Oh my god, what are you doing here?"

"I was waiting for you by the tree and then I couldn't reach you so I figured something must have went wrong", he whispered and I took a step back so he could climb in. I didn't know if it should have been alarming to me that he had managed to climb up the slippery metal pipe or if I should have felt flattered that he came to check up on me, but the unfamiliar feeling in the pit of my stomach decided that for itself. It grew even stronger when Dylan's eyes bore into mine and therefore revealed to him that I had been crying. "Another argument with your parents?"

"Yeah, but it was worse than any other one I had", I admitted, turning away from him only to slip back under my covers, leaning my back against the rose coloured wall. He was still standing next to the window, leaning against the windowsill, watching me attentively. He knew damn well arguments with my parents oftentimes ended up with me crying alone in my bedroom, but not once he had actually took it upon himself to sneak into my house. I took a deep breath, before meeting his gaze. "It was about you."

Being lit up by nothing but the moon, I could still see that his eyebrow formed a frown after my confession. Even in near darkness, every feature of his face was clearly visible, perhaps because I had mesmerized it so well after six years. I knew I had to tell him about my mother's demands at some point, so why not do it as fast as possible. It was gonna destroy me if I needed to keep in for any time longer. I was prepared to somewhat end my long term friendship with him, unwillingly of course.

"They know that I've been sneaking out to meet you. Luckily they think I've been only doing it for a few days. If they only knew it's been years", I mumbled, lowering the tone of my voice at the end of my sentence, not only because I was afraid they might here, but also because I couldn't bear to even think about the consequences of that. "They-They don't want me to spend time with you. They think I'm being brainwashed by you or some shit. They even want to speak to your parents. I'm so sorry."

For me, it was one thing that I had gotten into a fight with my parents and had been punished for sneaking out, but it was even worse that they wanted him to be punished as well. Dylan's parents were nothing like mine, they would have never forbidden him to see me. They were respectful, to say the least, of me and our friendship, but they were also respectful of my parents. If my mom was gonna talk them into taking action, they would do as they were told. That's how manipulative she could be.

"Aspen, you don't have to apologize. I don't care. I don't care if I get in trouble, I don't care if I'll get grounded and I don't care if your parents don't like me", he said with a serious expression, removing the hood from his head by aggressively sliding his hand through his hair, before leaving his spot by the windowsill to place his hands on my bedframe. He bent down, with a sigh, and then looked back up at me with a straight, but self confident, face. "I simply don't care."

"How can you not care?!", I spat out, accidentally increasing the volume of my shaky voice. This was not meant to be an insult. I genuinely could not understand how he managed to care so little, not just today, but everyday, about what other people thought of him. I so desperately wanted to know how it felt like to not be controlled, to not feel judged, to not feel pressured to be perfect, or at least to appear as perfect to the outside. I wished I wouldn't care either, but the guilt was eating me up. 

"Nothing's ever gonna stop me from seeing you", he replied in a soft tone, sitting down on my bed next where my legs were curled up in the blanket. I watched the matress shift under his weight, my mouth was wide open in shock of the weight his words carried. He said it in such a light manner, that it took a few changing digits on my alarm clock to my right until another thunderstorm of thoughts hit me with such an enormous force that I was left speechless and with nothing else but the urge to search for the hazel in his eyes with the blue in mine. 

I was interpreting way too much into that, I was sure, but the look, or more so intense stare, he gave me brought me right back to when I was sat on one of the lowest branches of the willow tree as a ten year old. Around me the leaves had been rustling in the wind, my hands had felt sore from the rough bark and my legs had been as numb as they were now, while Dylan had been standing below, cheering me on. There had been two options for me that day: Conquer my fears and keep climbing all the way up or let the fear win and go back down. 

I had decided to go back down, but while doing so I lost balance which caused me to fall down and land right on my arm, in front of Dylan's feet. If that had happened to me after I had climped all the way up, the consequences of my fall would have been much worse. If I had never agreed to his dare at all, I wouldn't have had to wear a plaster cast for the whole winter. But also, I probably wouldn't have become best friends with the new neighbor. Sometimes things were worth taking the risk, sometimes things were worth not caring. 

Dylan's eyes were sill piercing into mine, when I slowly became aware of my sorroundings again. With that, I also became aware of his hands getting closer to my face. Too mesmerized to flinch, I allowed him place his index finger on the bruise on my lower lip that I had absentmindedly started chewing on, which sent another electric impulse through by body. I must have not been the only one that had gotten somewhat lost in thoughts, because he cleared his throat, before asking, "How's your lip?"

"B-Better", I stuttered, despite barely being able to open my mouth and even though I could taste iron on my tongue thanks to the foolish habit of mine. I didn't feel any pain though, the bare minimum of skin from the tip of his finger sent provided me with enough heat for me to feel any other kind of emotion that the one that was suddenly rising in my stomach. Through my tear stained eyelashes, I noticed that his gaze had dropped down to where he was pointing. For a second I though he was gonna-

He leaned closer, his hand grabbing onto my chin and before I could register what was happening, his lips met mine, lightly, but somehow still forcefully. As I closed my eyes, the tremendous urge to flee from the situation camer over me, the fear of being broken grew stronger, but I decided to not let it win. Dylan was the only one that knew my life wasn't as picture perfect as it seemed. He was the last person I should have been scared of. 

I was taken aback, not entirely sure what I was supposed to do. This was my best friend sitting in front of me. I had known him for six years and here he was kissing me. Someone was kissing me, and it was him, out of all people. I still needed to process that. Luckily, I was gonna get at least a chance to do so, because he pulled away shortly after, leaving my numb, pounding lips. His face remained in close distance to mine though and I took it upon myself to say something. "I-That was my first kiss."

"I know, mine too", he said, the corner's of his mouth turning up to form a smile that was unfortunately only halfway lit up by the moonlit shining through my window. Once again I was left speechless, in a positive way of course. I was surprised, I thought he had kissed someone before, which was dumb considering we told each other everything, but I figured he may have just kept this one thing from me. "Uhm, do you want a second one?"

"My parents wouldn't like this", I said with an expression as cold as my dad's pokerface. He nodded in understanding, scooting away from me a little. The twitching in his eyebrows didn't stay unnoticed to me though. He wanted to be respectful of my parents rules, as if he hadn't just broken into their house, but there was an ounce of annoyance seen on his face, even in the darkness of the night. I could see it, because I knew him well. 

He knew me well, he could have seen that I was messing with him, but the more he was surprised when I closed the gap between us and clashed my lips onto his. I chuckled into the kiss and naturally, as if I had any clue on what I was doing, I lifted my hands up from the covers and placed them on each side of his face. They were anything but cold, but he still shivered under my touch. "Dylan, are you-Are you blushing?"

[hellsitesonlybookclub]

SPACE STATION 1

12 He was staring at her across a shadowed room, with the pale glimmer of a cabin viewport above her right shoulder, a very small port that looked like a full moon glimmering high in the sky through a sea of mist.

Her face was very white and she was staring back at him as if he had come suddenly out of nowhere.

She hesitated only an instant and then walked straight toward him, walked right up to him and touched him gently on the face.

"I'm so glad," she said.

She drew back then and looked at him and smiled. "I was afraid you were in trouble because of me," she said, "some terrible kind of trouble, and I couldn't help you at all. I kept blaming myself for everything foolish that I had ever done, going way back to the day when I broke my first doll, deliberately and spitefully, because I was a very headstrong little girl."

"I'm afraid I've always been pretty headstrong myself," Corriston said. "But being a boy, I naturally couldn't break dolls. I just wrecked the family's peace of mind."

"We all go through life with a great deal of foolish luggage," she said. "And sometimes you have an impulse to just drop everything—and run away."

"I can understand that," Corriston said. "But did you have to run away quite so fast? It's hard to believe it was for anybody's good, including your own."

"It might have been," she said. "It might have been for my good and then later, partly for your good. Please don't judge me too harshly before I've had a chance to tell you exactly what happened."

He reached out for her and kissed her even as she came into his arms. He had expected her to be angry, to withdraw, but instead she encircled his strong back with a surprising fierceness. When he released her, her eyes were shining.

"I'm glad you did that … darling! Very glad. But we're still in trouble."

"I know that. But we're in love, too. And you just promised to tell me what happened."

"Well, I guess I just … just regressed."

"You what?"

"Regressed. You know, like when I was a headstrong little brat of a child. We all do that at times. You'll have to admit there was some excuse for me. You weren't born in a house with a hundred rooms, with servants always coming and going, and outside gardens with big red and yellow flowers where you couldn't even run and hide without being smothered, without being searched for and brought screaming and kicking back inside.

"You don't know what it means to know you haven't a father, only a stern, cold, black-coated man standing away off in the darkness somewhere and watching people bow down before him.

"You don't know what it means to be told: 'You're Stephen Ramsey's daughter. Behave. Behave. Behave!'"

"I scarcely ever saw my father. And when I did see him he was as cold as one of the slabs in the big mausoleum he took so much pride in, the big family mausoleum which only a Ramsey was permitted to visit. And yet I think he loved me in his own cold way. I think he still does."

She fell silent for a moment and then an overpowering need to tell Corriston more seemed to come upon her.

"I was never allowed to see young men, not even to go for a ride in the park. Anyone of them might be a fortune seeker, because no young man, even if he is madly in love with a girl, can quite shut his eyes to wealth as one additional reason for loving her.

"So I never saw any young men. I wasn't permitted to even go to a dance, or walk in the moonlight on a balcony. I wanted to go to dances, wanted at least one young man to kiss me damned hard."

"Sure you did," Corriston said. "I understand."

"I'm going to stop right there, darling. I could tell you what it means to be free to travel, anywhere, anywhere in the world and to see all of the white and shining cities, and to be intoxicated by beauty, and to know at the same time that you are not free, can never hope to be free as other people are free."

"And that's why you ran away."

"Yes, darling, yes, and because that bodyguard was a complete fool. He was just one of thirty bodyguards my father had hired to protect me, year after year. But he was the biggest fool of all. He drank too much and he talked too much. Finally I made up my mind that I would be better off if I went on to Mars alone. My father had told me I could come, the trip had been carefully planned down to the smallest detail. I was to travel incognito. I was to keep to myself until I arrived at the Station and no one was supposed to know I was even on the ship, not even the captain. I'm quite sure he didn't know. I think the invitation to his cabin was a complete fabrication. In fact, I'm sure it was. I think Clakey—his real name was Ewers—was just drunk enough to make up a crazy story like that to get me away from you.

"But I didn't want to get away from you, darling. I wanted to get away from him. I wanted to have a few days of complete freedom before I arrived on Mars, and perhaps after that for a day in the colony before I joined my father. I didn't care how angry he'd be when he saw me without a bodyguard, alone, wonderfully, gloriously alone and free for the first time in my life. I didn't want to be Helen Ramsey at all. I wanted to be somebody else and be completely free.

"So I went into the ladies room, darling, and I put on the strangest kind of mask."

"Yes," Corriston said. "I know."

"You know about the mask?"

"Please go on," Corriston said. "I'd rather you didn't ask me how I know that your father can take pride in at least one constructive achievement. The masks are extraordinary. I've seen one."

"But how? Where? I can't believe it. I—"

"Please," Corriston said. "It isn't too important. I made a necessary promise that I wouldn't tell you, not immediately. I'm asking you to trust me and go on."

"Well, I secured one of those very unusual masks. From the Gresham-Ramsey Laboratories, before we left Earth. I could go there anytime I wanted to. All of the research technicians there are quite old. One of them, Thomas Webb, is really quite handsome. I might have fallen in love with him if he had been forty years younger. He showed me just how to adjust the mask. But when I went into the ladies' lounge I had more than just a mask. I had a complete thin plastic change of clothing concealed under my dress. I didn't remove my dress, only reversed my clothing so that the plastic dress covered the one I'd been wearing."

Corriston said, "It was a very courageous thing for you to do."

"I'm glad you think so, darling. Because when I came out of the lounge and saw Ewers killed, I wasn't courageous at all. I became panic-stricken, terrified, beside myself with fear. I knew that my father had many dangerous enemies. I knew that I was in immediate, deadly danger. I had to go on with the disguise then. I had to go right on being somebody else. I couldn't tell anyone. I couldn't even tell you. I had to let you think that in some strange, bewildering way I had gone into the lounge and disappeared.

"I knew you wouldn't really believe that, not for a moment. But I didn't know what you'd think. I could have told you, I suppose, but I was afraid it would only make the danger greater, might transfer some of the danger to you. And I didn't know you'd go straight to the captain and get yourself into trouble. There were rumors on the Station that you'd been confined, put under guard. But they were only rumors. I felt I had to see you, talk to you. I was half out of my mind with anxiety. I bribed one of the guards to let me out of the quarantine cage and went in search of you.

"I searched everywhere, followed passageways at random, got lost in a maze of machinery."

"And someone followed you," Corriston said. "He followed you and tore the mask from your face."

She looked at him with wide, startled eyes. "How did you know?"

"I was there," Corriston said. "You fainted and I took you into my arms—for the very first time. You didn't know that, did you?"

"How could I have known? If what you say is true, I—"

Helen Ramsey did not complete what she had started to say. Had she done so she might not have been thrown so abruptly off-balance by the suddenly lurching deck; she would have moved closer to Corriston and could have seized hold of his shoulders for support.

She did not fall, but she nearly did, and the lurch sent her tottering all the way to the opposite wall. Corriston saw her collide with the wall and sink to her knees. At the same instant his own knees collapsed.

He was lying sprawled out on the deck, too startled and shaken to go immediately to her aid, when the second lurch came. It spun him about, and then he was sliding. He couldn't seem to stop the sliding. He went all the way to the opposite wall too.

For a brief instant they were together again, locked in a desperate embrace, their legs higher than their heads. Then the deck righted itself and the bombardment began.

It was a terrifying thing to have to listen to, and Corriston preferred to listen to it on his feet. Slowly he arose and helped his companion up, holding her in so tight a grip that it seemed to them that they had been welded together and could never part.

He was glad that he could be completely sure of one thing. It wasn't a nuclear bombardment—not yet. The cruiser was merely shelling the Station. When the cruiser launched an atomic warhead he'd know about it—rather, he wouldn't know. The fact that he was still alive and aware of what was going on told him a great deal about the nature of the bombardment.

"What is it?" Helen Ramsey whispered. "Do you know?"

"We're the catspaw in a naval attack," Corriston said. "The commander took a very great risk."

It was incredible, but right at the moment he felt himself to be in the scoundrel's corner. He didn't want the Station to be blown apart in the great empty spaces between the planets any more than the commander did.

When Corriston reached the viewport and stared out, the cruiser was following the Station far off to the side, in an obvious effort to outmaneuver it by maintaining a parallel rather than a directly pursuing course. But it was not escaping the swiftly turning Station's stern rocket jets. Blinding bursts of incandescence spiraled toward it through the void, and once or twice scored direct hits.

He saw the cruiser shudder throughout its length, and then draw back, almost as if it were endowed with life and had nerves and arteries that could be ripped apart.

There were mechanical arteries that could easily enough be ripped. For an instant Corriston stared with a strange kind of detachment, freed from the terrible tension and uncertainty by his absolute absorption in the battle itself, freed from the almost mind-numbing sense of participating in a struggle that could end in utter disaster for Station and cruiser alike. He knew that if the cruiser maneuvered in too close, the puffs of flame from the Station's jets could turn into superheated gases roaring through space, destroying everything in their path.

The Station, too, was only a pulsebeat from fiery annihilation. And a pulsebeat could be terrifyingly brief. But the decision had been made and there could be no turning back.

Aboard the cruiser the decision had certainly come from very high up. Corriston turned the thought slowly over in his mind, still in the grip of his strange detachment. Just what did "very high up" mean?

It meant—it had to mean—a conflict of personalities, the hot-headedness or stubbornness or glory-seeking that went with every decision made by strong-willed men.

Aboard the cruiser someone had acted. After consultation? On just an impulse? In blind rage because the Station had ignored a warning that had been repeated twice?

There was no way of knowing. But on the cruiser men were dying. That was important too. Just how reckless had the decision been?

In space, military science has never been an exact science. Sonic echoes alone can kill, and in a pressurized compartment blowups happen. Jet-supports can be placed at the best of all possible angles and still fly off into space. Compressed air shot out of pressure vents can turn bone and flesh into soft oozing jelly.

The cruiser was changing its course again. It had failed, in a maneuver, twice repeated, to draw close at almost right angles to the Station, and had taken terrible punishment from below, above and straight ahead.

But the cruiser was still firing. And Corriston not only saw the bursts of flame, he felt the blasts in his eardrums, his brain and the soles of his feet. And suddenly he saw flames darting out directly beneath him, and knew that the Station was on fire.

Corriston knew that at any moment he could be smashed back against a bone-crushing wall of metal; he could be pulverized, asphyxiated, driven mad. And the fear in him—the fear that he wouldn't be able to control—would be a two-edged sword.

There was no pain more ghastly than the final burst of agony that came with a burst open nervous system. It was the most horrible way to die. But even dying that way wouldn't be half as bad as watching the woman he loved die.

Almost as if aware of his thoughts, Helen spoke to him for the first time since he had crossed to the viewport.

"It's very strange, darling. I'm calmer now than I have ever been. I guess it can happen if you love a man so very much that you know your life would have no meaning if anything should happen to him. It's like facing up squarely to the fact that you no longer have any existence apart from him. I've done that, darling, and I'm not afraid."

There was silence in the cabin for an instant. Then another shell exploded, and another, and another. Corriston felt light and dangerously dizzy. It was amazing that he had not been hurled to the floor, still more amazing that he could have remained for so long motionless in just one spot.

Then, abruptly, the bombardment ceased. There was no sound at all in the cabin, just a silence so absolute that the roaring in Corriston's ears was like the sound made by an angry sea beating against vast stone cliffs in a world that had ceased to exist.

There were no longer any exploding white stars coming from the cruiser. It was dwindling into the blackness of space, giving up the battle, conceding defeat. It became thinner and thinner. Suddenly only the reef remained. Where the cruiser had been there stretched only empty space.

Corriston turned from the viewport. He crossed the cabin to the cot, swaying a little, but only from dizziness, and sat down and drew the girl on the cot close to him. He held her tightly, saying nothing.

[living-d3ad-gh0ul]

31st December 2024, 10.26am

Hey E,

I’m so sorry I didn’t write back quicker. I know I don’t have to write back quickly, but I felt bad not to over Christmas and I wanted to make sure I did before the year was out for us both. I know the new year will be coming really soon for you now, since you’re a bit ahead of me.

I really hope you had a good Christmas too, I hope it was filled with lots of fun and joy. You really deserve it, so much. 

The main reason I didn’t write back sooner, was because I’ve been dealing with a really bad allergic reaction since Boxing Day and I was working over Christmas, apart from seeing my gran and family on Christmas Day. Which was really nice, but it sucks now that I’m dealing with this stupid reaction. I think I’ve narrowed it down to what I’m allergic to, which is some hoodie thing my mum bought me for Christmas. I’m hoping now I’ve washed it I won’t be allergic anymore, but I’m being very careful with it. I went to the hospital a few days ago because it had gotten really bad (my whole upper body including my face is covered in a horrible sore rash from it) and I needed to be checked out, so I was and now I’m on really strong antihistamines to help with it. The only downside is that they’ve been making me super drowsy and sleepy and I feel like all I’ve done since I started taking them is sleep. I’m hoping they start to help more soon, it’s been really rubbish. I won’t be able to do anything this evening for new years because I’m on these meds now, as I can’t really go anywhere or do anything when I feel as drowsy as I do. I especially cannot drink alcohol when on them either lol. So I’ll probably just spend it cosy on the couch, which sucks because I’ll be alone and I’m worried I’ll get sad.. but I’ll try my best to have some good snacks and drink something nice and non-alcoholic and think about how I wish for lots of good things in the new year. 

First of all… I just want to say I am so so sorry to hear about your grandma. I have been thinking about you and your family a lot since I read about that and that’s also why I wanted to reply quickly, I know how sad it is to go through something like that. I understand the feeling guilty you didn’t talk to her as much or spend as much time with her, I had that with my dad too, wishing I’d have spent more time with him in the past and stayed with him more and stuff. It’s only natural for us to feel that way when someone passes, that we wish we’d have been there more. But I know for a fact she wouldn’t want you to feel that way, she would want you to cherish any memories you did have with her, she’d want you to look back at the time you did get to spend with her and smile and remember it all so fondly. She wouldn’t want you to feel bad or wish you could have done more, I obviously don’t know her (but by the sounds of it, I think me and her would have got on like a house on fire haha) but I think she would be grateful for any time she got with you. It really sounds like she was a very popular and very lovely woman who many cherished. I’m really glad that you got to spend some time at her home and in her town too, even if it wasn’t too long. I get why it’d maybe feel like the “life” wasn’t in the house anymore, that tends to happen when we go somewhere that was once where a loved one lived or was always found. But I’m glad that you managed to take some pictures of things and you can look back at those and remember her, remember all the good times you had and how much she loved you, which I know she did. 

I’m sorry your brother got you sick, that is really weird how it happens in hot weather too, but it’s not uncommon! I’m trying to be super careful myself at the moment because Covid is going around here again, I’m not sure if it’s because it’s cold here or whatever. I’m really glad that you’re taking some steps to see a psychologist too, I’m so fucking proud of you for that. Really, you’ve no idea how much I’m proud of you for that, because I know that’s a really big step. But it’s a step in the right direction. The fact that you were lied to about cost for one though? That’s just ridiculous! They should have to be upfront about these things, especially when it’s YOU who’s paying for it out of your own pocket. They can be so sneaky sometimes. They shouldn’t be allowed to tell you one price and then charge you something different, I’d have had some strong words with them about that if it were me haha. I also get the not clicking with your therapist too, that’s understandable and you want to be able to work with someone who you click with and who is going to give you the best help and experience possible. So that’s a completely fair reason also to want to see someone else. I really hope that those waiting lists you’re on aren’t too long, I know the ones here are really bad because it’s all public funded.. some of them are 18-24 months.. which is really really bad. So I really hope yours is a lot quicker than that. 

I am so so pleased that you had a nice time for your birthday too! That bar sounds AMAZING, I’d love to go to a place like that but I’m not really sure we have anything like that apart from NQ64 which is a video game place, like a barcade type thing. Nothing like that place you described though, I’m so jealous! And nightmare before Christmas with an orchestra?! I’m even MORE jealous. I love that movie so much, it’s one of my favourites too. I’ve even got my niece into it haha, she asked for Sally and Jack dolls for Christmas, so of course Santa (aunty N) provided lol. It sounds amazing though, I think I would really like to see something like that too, a movie with a live orchestra playing. Just thinking about that kind of environment makes me feel all cosy inside. I’d love it, I think. I haven’t seen the new Wicked movie yet, I really really want to, but I haven’t had the chance yet. I did go see the new Gladiator 2 movie though a few weeks ago, on my own haha. And I actually really enjoyed it. It wasn’t historically accurate, but a lot of these Hollywood blockbusters aren’t these days. But it was still so so good. Joseph Quinn as an evil emperor was just SOOOO good, he really played the part so well and I am forever gobsmacked at his range. I need to make a point of seeing Wicked soon, because I love the musical. I actually sang a few of the songs from it before at a local music festival when I was in high school, haha. A long time ago now. Oh and I’m glad you managed to sort out the whole shirt debacle too, and that you got some really nice new clothes and things too, I bet the green shirt looks really good on you, if it’s the kind of green I can imagine you wearing in my head (like a deep forest/emerald green) then even more so. I think you’d look really handsome in that kind of colour. You’d be handsome in any colour really, haha. I know that cologne is a really nice one too, I actually got one of favourite perfumes for Christmas which is called Alien by Thierry Mugler. But I’ve been wearing Le Labo’s Santal 33 and Another 13 for the past nearly 2 years too. I’d say those three are my favourite, but the Le Labo ones are DEFINITELY way more expensive than Alien hahaha. So those are “special” perfumes I don’t wear a lot and try to keep for special occasions. 

Yes, you got it right, it’s a demogorgon haha. I get not really being able to get into shows or anything, sometimes I start a new one and fall away from it because I just can’t get into it or I just don’t have the attention span for it. So I understand that completely. I don’t think I’ll watch the new season of Witcher because Henry Cavill won’t be in it and to me? He is Geralt lol. I don’t feel like anyone else could do that role justice like he did. 

I have kept my hair like that, yeah. It’s still red and black and the same kind of style. I think I’m gonna keep it like this for a while, I really like it. It’s different too, something a bit more funky than just plain red. And thank you for saying I looked beautiful.. I really do love that dress tbh, it’s become one of my favourites and I feel really pretty in it. I love my tattoos so much too and I’m really glad you do too. I’ve actually just booked in for another portrait from the same artist (she’s my friend too, I’m sure I said that before) in April hehe, it’s going to be one of my favourite Baldurs Gate characters this time and the main big start of my sleeve on my right arm. I’m really excited for it. A couple days before the tattoo, me and her are going to see Ghost together too in concert. We’re both really excited because she’s never seen them before and I always said I’d go with her when they did another tour here. 

I’m really glad you like my Jaig eyes too. To me, they mean a lot. It might seem silly because it’s a Star Wars tattoo haha.. but the meaning behind them and stuff is something I can kind of relate to. Omg I think that tattoo will look so amazing on you. I think I know exactly what one you mean too. That will be really cool. And I think you’d really suit that. I really hope you manage to do the big idea you have, I hope we both get to do more cool tattoo ideas next year. And I’m glad that I have the Aussie approval for my “hard cunt” status now hahaha. 

When I say I met someone… I purely just wanted to be friends with this dude haha. I had no other intentions with him, it just wasn’t that kind of vibe for me. But then he kind of made it weird and stuff when he told me that he did like me and I was like “oh dear…” when he started trying to make things sexual and stuff. I still haven’t spoke to him since I set the boundary and told him I wasn’t interested at all after he tried pushing it. I really fucking hate when people do that, it made me so uncomfortable. But I’m glad I was able to be like “okay, no, you need to stop”. At the end of the day, I don’t really want to talk to someone who’s gonna act like that anyway even after they’ve been told that I’m not interested. 

Unfortunately.. me and my best friend are no longer talking at all now. I’ve had to block her on everything because I know she simply just would not leave me alone, even so much as having to block her literal email address and phone number. A LOT happened and she was very mean and horrible at the end of things. She became really horribly jealous and emotionally manipulative and then tried to paint me out to be a bad person to mutual friends of ours too. She also lied to me about a BUNCH of stuff, including some really serious things, some of which I only found out after we stopped talking. So I really don’t think I could ever speak to her again. I don’t think I’ll ever want to. She lied to me our whole friendship basically about a whole lot of things and I really don’t want to be friends with someone who’s gonna lie like that and betray my trust and try to make others dislike me based on more lies because she knows she’s in the wrong. She will never ever admit it though.. and it really does suck losing someone that you care about so much. But honestly? Since not speaking to her, I feel so much more stress free… it’s been a huge weight off my shoulders and I’m not constantly on edge or feeling like I’m walking on eggshells and not waking up to messages of her blowing up and causing random arguments over absolutely nothing all the time too. She just got really mean at the end too and genuinely made me question who I am as a person. There was a lot of projection too, and she was just really unfair in the grand scheme of things. It really is for the best that we’re no longer in contact. I can’t have that kind of behaviour in my life and I won’t allow someone to walk all over me and treat me the way she was treating me. 

I really appreciate you reminding me and reassuring me that I can talk to you about anything. I know I can. And I really am so grateful to have someone I know I can always count on to be around and to listen, to support me through anything. Even if we don’t talk all the time, I know that you’re there, that you’re listening. And I just want you to know that means so much to me and is also reciprocated. I’m always here for you too. No matter what. The person who was causing me some issues is no longer causing me those things and they’re no longer triggering me and reminding me of bad things that happened to me before. I’ve cut them off too (them and my best friend in the same month lol, how funny) and made sure they’re not able to do that anymore. I won’t ever speak to them again, not a chance in hell, not after how badly they triggered me and upset me. 

These posts are also so important to me. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to express just how important they are to me, really. I know it helps you get things off your chest too, I love that we have this space to talk with each other and talk about anything, without fear of judgement or dismissal or anything. Just pure support and care and understanding. I cried a little reading you telling me that I am important and I am significant. I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone tell me that before. And I want you to know that you’re important to me too. And that I care about you too. A whole lot. Hearing you tell me things like that too really does help, I promise you. It gives me that little bit of strength I need, especially on bad days. I know I can always come back and read things like that again and remind myself of your words. 

Gran is doing okay, she’s still doing chemo and has now unfortunately lost her hair from it this time. But she’s doing okay, she’s taking it all in her stride and not letting it affect her personality or anything. She’s still her. We just have to keep going and see what happens now, make the most of the time we have with her and try to make as many memories as possible. Which I’m sure we will. It’s sad that we know there isn’t much more they can do for her, but we’re grateful we can have some more time with her. 

I know that it’s not far until midnight on New Year’s Eve now over there, so I’m really hoping that you have some nice plans, that you get to spend it with friends and family (and Chonky of course, I hope she is doing well too, I still remember how cute and feisty she is and think of her often, anytime I think of you really). I hope that this next year brings us both lots of joy and luck and happiness. I hope that we can both make progress and achieve things that we want to and have fun along the way. I hope that we can both find some peace and comfort too, even in our bad days. I hope that I can help to provide some of that for you too, even if only in my “letters” here. And ultimately, I just hope this next year is a lot kinder to us both. 

As I said in the beginning of this post, I probably won’t be doing much myself since I’m on these meds and not feeling too good with my allergic reaction, but I will be thinking of you while I have my cosy New Year’s Eve at home. I always do think of you, but more so on special days like today. 

A belated Merry Christmas and have a happy new year, E. And I hope to hear from you again soon.

With love, 

N x 

“I was stressing, head screwed on too tight.. read your words that felt so close despite..” 

[stillalive19567]

Beneath The Surface | JenLisa | GxG | Chapter 14

After dinner, I drive us three back to the dorm. The silence in the car is comfortable, punctuated only by the soft sounds of the road beneath us. Lisa turns to me, breaking the quiet. “How old are you?” she asks, genuine curiosity in her voice.

“I’m 21,” I reply, keeping my tone neutral.

“You’re three years older than us?” she exclaims, her eyes wide with surprise. I nod, noting the way she processes the information. It’s strange to think of myself as older, especially when I still feel so lost.

After a while, it’s about time to head back to the dorm. “I’m coming with you,” Lisa declares, and I can’t help but feel a mix of surprise and annoyance at the idea. I’m not sure I’m ready for the warmth of her presence, especially after the heaviness of dinner.

I drive us back to the dorm, the atmosphere still a blend of easy conversation and lingering tension. Rosé heads to our room as soon as we arrive, but I follow Lisa into her room. The air is thick with an unspoken understanding, and I can feel my coldness wrapping around me like a cloak. It’s not that I want to push her away; it’s just that I feel so much, and I’m not sure how to process it all.

Lisa glances at me, her brow slightly furrowed. “You okay?” she asks, her tone softening. I can tell she senses my distance, but I can’t bring myself to open up. Not now. Not when I’m still unraveling everything inside me.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I reply, though the words feel hollow even to my own ears. I sit on the edge of her bed, the comfort of the room clashing with the turmoil in my mind. I can’t help but think about Ryujin and the weight of the investigation that hangs over me. I’m cold, and I want to hide away from everything, including the warmth of Lisa’s concern.

We finally reach the dorm, and I park the car, feeling the weight of the night still pressing down on me. Rosé hops out first, and I follow her into our room. I take a moment to shed the remnants of the evening and slip into bed, letting exhaustion wash over me. As soon as my head hits the pillow, I drift into a dreamless sleep, the darkness enveloping me like a comforting shroud.

The next morning, I wake up feeling like a robot, my movements mechanical and detached. I shuffle to the bathroom and stand in front of the mirror, staring at my reflection. My eyes look hollow, and the familiar weight of emptiness settles in my chest.

Am I really that unbearable? The question echoes in my mind, relentless and consuming. It’s hard not to feel like a ghost in my own home, always lurking in the shadows, invisible to the world around me. I can’t remember the last time I felt safe, and I wonder if I ever will again. Despite my efforts to keep the peace, every time I think I’ve succeeded, it all comes crashing down, leaving me to sift through the wreckage.

I think about the person I used to be before everything fell apart. I was once full of dreams and laughter, with a heart that felt light. But those days feel like a distant memory now, a faded photograph in an album of happier times. I miss the warmth of our family before Mom died—before the laughter turned into screams, and love morphed into fear. Now, I’m left picking up the pieces of a shattered home, a puzzle with missing parts that can never be replaced.

Rosé deserves so much more than this bleak existence. At eighteen, she should be carefree, dreaming about her future, not burdened by the weight of our past. Instead, she’s stuck with a sister who can barely hold herself together. I wonder what she thinks of me. Does she see me as strong, or does she see my brokenness? I wish I could shield her from all of this, but every day, I feel like I’m failing her, failing us both.

The guilt wraps around my chest like a vice, squeezing tighter each day. I feel like I should be able to fix everything, to heal the wounds that have scarred our lives, but I’m just one person—one person drowning in a sea of despair. It’s overwhelming, suffocating.

I wish I could scream, but the sound gets caught in my throat, silenced by the weight of my reality. I’m so tired of feeling like I’m trapped in a never-ending nightmare, cycling through pain and sorrow without an end in sight.

There are days I can barely look in the mirror without feeling a wave of disgust wash over me. I see someone who should be strong, yet instead reflects nothing but weakness and sorrow. I fear that I’ll always be defined by this pain, that I’m destined to remain in this darkness forever. The thought is suffocating, a reminder of my own failures.

What’s the point of trying to survive when every attempt at happiness seems to be met with more suffering? Sometimes I wonder if it would be easier for everyone if I simply disappeared. Maybe then Rosé could live a life free of this torment, a life without the shadow of my despair hanging over her. It feels like a selfish thought, yet the temptation lingers.

As I get ready for another day, I find myself staring at the reflection in the mirror again. The emptiness in my eyes seems to mock me, whispering that I’ll never escape this cycle of pain. I push back the tears that threaten to spill over. Crying feels like admitting defeat—something I can't allow myself to do, not when I still have Rosé to protect.

I walk to class with Rosé, her light chatter barely breaking through the fog of my thoughts. I sit at the back, trying to make myself as small as possible, blending into the fabric of the classroom. The noise of students mingling and laughing feels distant, almost foreign.

I catch a glimpse of So Hee across the room as she calls over Rosé, whispering something in her ear. My heart sinks as I watch Rosé look back at me, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. But before I can react, I instinctively look away, not wanting to face the disappointment I feel rising within me.

When I glance back, it hits me like a punch to the gut—Rosé is sitting with So Hee. The very girl who bullies her, who makes her life miserable, has managed to pull her in with some sort of charm or manipulation. I can hardly believe it.

Why is she choosing to be with someone who treats her poorly? Is this what my sister wants for herself? The pang of frustration twists in my stomach, and I wish I could shake her out of this delusion. Doesn’t she see how toxic So Hee is? It’s infuriating to watch as Rosé seems to willingly place herself in the path of someone who’s only ever brought her pain.

I can't stand the sight of it, and the ache of helplessness weighs heavily on my chest. I want to reach out, to pull Rosé back to me, to remind her of her worth. But how can I do that when I’m struggling to hold myself together? I feel like I’m constantly battling my own demons, and now it seems I have to fight for Rosé as well.

I think of Ryujin.

Last night, as we enter the dorm, the atmosphere is heavy, filled with the uncertainty that gnaws at me. My eyes catch sight of a student standing by the mailboxes, receiving an unmarked package. The way they look around, glancing over their shoulder as if expecting someone to jump out at them, sends a shiver down my spine.

When another classmate approaches, casually asking about the package, the student’s demeanor changes instantly. They become defensive, shifting their weight, and their eyes dart nervously. It’s an odd interaction—something feels off, like a spark igniting the dry tinder of my instincts. I want to approach, to pry, to ask what’s going on, but a part of me hesitates, fearing I might draw attention to myself.

The memory of that encounter churns in my mind. I can’t shake the feeling that there’s something more to it, something connected to Ryujin’s disappearance. My thoughts race as I wonder if this student knows anything about her. Do they have information that could lead me to her? Or is this just another piece of the puzzle, a distraction in the maze I’m trying to navigate?