#I feel like it ... probably isn’t normal to feel this much grief and heartache over something so small but... welp.. here we are I guess

[flayerlinked]

“ promise me? ”  

with the world burning down around them, will isn’t sure what he can actually promise to anyone, anymore. they’ve all faced far too much heartache and grief to still be so young, except he’s also come to find that the concept of promises can keep you going even during the most difficult of times. despite knowing fully well that they may not come true, the idea of what if is a powerful, hopeful thing. what if they make it out of this alive, what if they get the chance to grow older than seventeen, what if the world goes back to normal ( or at least as normal as it can be for someone like him ), what if they can finally get out of this godforsaken town and just be able to live, unrestricted and unabashedly themselves.

what if it can be by mike’s side. his best friend, the love of his life, the boy he never thought he’d ever be able to have but now, somehow, by some stroke of fate or luck or a god he’s not sure he even believes in anymore, he actually has. because there’s nowhere else he’d rather be for the rest of his life, as long as that proves to ultimately be, and a sick, twisted part of his mind that may prove to be more realistic than anything else almost feels happy to die as long as he’s loving and being loved by m.ike w.heeler.

will knows he can’t promise mike a damn thing, at least not with the guarantee of being able to keep it. he’s positive that mike knows this, too, but to dream of promises they might be able to see come true simply will have to be enough, for now. in fact, it might be the last thing that manages to keep him sane.

“i promise,” he breathes out, voice shaky and cracked down the middle as tears stream down his face. he’s got mike’s hands collected in his own, squeezing them harder than he probably should, but the other is his lifeline in the same way now that he’s always been. “when this is all over, i- w-we’ll get out of here, o-okay? you and me, we’ll- g-go somewhere else, anywhere else, and- we’ll be happy. b-because we’ll be together, we’ll have e-each other. i-i just- i love you, mike, i- promise.”

[bestial4ngel]

God I wish I was a kid again. Even though I went through some Shit I just miss the pure joy of it. It’s so upsetting to realize that I’ll never get to experience that again

[nancydfan]

So I have been a fan of resident evil for a while now and I have to say without a shadow of a doubt Ethan is my favorite protagonist. I feel like the rest of the protagonists in the series are kinda the same, you’ve got the police/army guys (Leon and Chris) who are determined to save the world, and then with the rest of them they’re kinda the same, badass people willing to give their all to get rid of evil and return the world back to normal. And that’s fine, except it’s a kind of story that’s been told over and over again and not just in resident evil.

That’s why I love Ethan so much. He is a breath of fresh air that the series needed. And while yes, you can argue that his type of storyline has also been used a lot, it’s something that has never been explored in resident evil.

With the rest of the protagonists, they choose to fight. They volunteer to put themselves in horrifying scenarios for the greater good.

Ethan isn’t like that.

He’s literally just your typical average dude. He has a normal job, and has a relatively normal life which he was happy to spend with Mia until she went missing.

In RE7 Ethan doesn’t volunteer to deal with the horrors that he faces. He just wanted his wife back, and even after 3 years he still loves her enough to drop everything and rush out to find her.

When I finished RE7, I liked Ethan as a main character, but it was RE8 that made me fall in love with him. In RE7 there were a lot of times when he just didn’t respond or kind of reacts underwhelmingly, but I think this is less of his character and more of Capcom trying to make you feel more like Ethan and having him react too much might take you out of feeling like the main character is you.

Of course his actions are still very reflective of him, like when he first enters the house and has to “kill” Mia the first time, when she reaches out to him he reaches right back, implying that he regrets what just happened and that he still wants her to be okay, no matter what is wrong with her.

I know Jacksepticeye said one of the reasons why he doesn’t like Ethan is because he doesn’t have a character arc, but I disagree. Like I said, Ethan goes from not being very vocal at times/ underwhelming reactions in RE7 to I feel the exact opposite in 8; he talks a lot more with lines that make sense, and you can feel his emotions at times even with just seeing his hands. Now one can argue that Capcom just wrote Ethan differently, which I can see.

But I feel as though Ethan has changed- in the first game, he’s scared and confused, and finally ends on frustration as the game nears its end. In RE8 he is angry, angry that his life keeps getting turned on it’s head because of some stupid mold. He is angry, and fueled by his grief and determination to save the only family (he thinks) he has left. He is 100% done with everything and has honestly given his last fuck a long time ago.

And again, this is what makes him special- he doesn’t necessarily care about the mold, about Miranda or any of the “bigger issue” things- he just wants his family. In 7 he just wants to get his wife and get out of there, and In 8 he just wants to save his daughter. He didn’t sign up to be a hero, to save the world from it’s own creations. He just wants his family.

And honestly that’s what makes him more human and alive to me than the rest of the protagonists- the rest of them kind of just feel like characters with their (almost cheesy) need to take on insurmountable problems to save the world. But Ethan is different, he’s just a man who probably just wants to do his taxes in peace and have a normal, quiet life. The rest of the protagonists, though I’m sure would love to quit, wouldn’t change their jobs or their situations because they know someone has to do it and it might as well be them. But not Ethan. If he had the choice than he’d make it so none of this ever happened, and that he and his family never have to be involved in something like this again.

Which is why I think this is what makes his sacrifice so much more tragic. With any of the other protagonists yes we would be sad but we’d find comfort in knowing that they died doing what they loved (saving people), and wouldn’t have it any other way.

But Ethan is different.

He didn’t want to sacrifice himself- we can see that in the way he struggles with Chris to get out, to stay in one piece for his daughter because he wants to be there for her. He went through hell and he just wants to see his little girl grow up. And when he hears Mia’s alive that want only grows more because he has a chance to have his family back, but I think he knows he can’t. He’s falling apart, his body has dealt with so much and kept him alive but not for much longer. And so even though he desperately wants to go back with Chris, after hearing Mia’s alive he knows he can let go. I think another part of why he was fighting so hard to escape with Chris is because he didn’t want Rose to live without both of her parents, but when he hears Mia’s alive he realizes that Rose will be okay, she will at least have one parent. He is so tired, so tired of fighting that even though he hates the fact that he can’t go back with her (you can physically hear the pain in his voice when he says “Goodbye Rosemary”), he knows that it’s something he has to do.

And he isn’t happy or content with sacrificing himself. In fact this is the last thing he wanted, which again is what makes it so heart wrenching. After all the pain he’s been through he doesn’t even get to see his daughter grow up, doesn’t get to grow old with his wife, his painful adventure to get his family back ends just as painfully as he pulls the trigger to destroy the mold.

This is why Ethan is special to me. Ethan is just a man who wanted to be happy with his family, not some stereotypical stone cold hero who would gladly give up his life for the greater good. He is truly unique and in a way I saw myself in him and his personality, which is what crushed me so much when he died. I wanted him to have a good ending and he got handed a shitty end. I really hope Capcom gives him a good resolution, one where he doesn’t have to be a main character at all but at least give us something where we know he’s okay and reunited with his family.

Sorry for getting weepy and deep lol, it’s just I really love Ethan and have no one to talk about how upset I am at his ending lol. Thanks for listening to my rant!

Oh my dear nonnie you’re always welcome to rant in my inbox. Long or not, thoughts, etc. that’s why my box is always open :)

And just so you know, I’m currently crying in an airport lobby over Ethan Winters 😆

I’m on mobile so I won’t be able to properly respond probably except to say you are absolutely right on all of these things. He really is such a stark contrast to the rest of the RE heroes and that’s what makes him so special to me too. He is just a man. A man who does everything he can for his family. All he wants to do is be left alone to love his wife and raise his daughter. I keep thinking of that scene in re8 where he’s talking to the doc. That is the Ethan Winters Capcom refuses to let us see all that much. Easy, happy, carefree moment. There’s a lightness to his voice. He doesn’t care about the problems of the world. That isn’t his job too. And it’s unbelievably tragic that not only does he get pulled into this twice (with three years of suffering for Mia before Dulvey and then the heartache of her “murder” and Rose’s kidnapping), he then dies in the end???? He doesn’t even get the reward to live with his wife and daughter? WHAT DID ETHAN WINTERS DO TO YOU, CAPCOM!!?

also overcome? Miss me w that bullshit. Y’all blew him to smithereens.

I swear if Capcom doesn’t bring him back in some way I don’t know how I’ll proceed w this series. I love Leon and Claire and Jill a lot too but nothing like Ethan. And I’m super not interested in getting my heart ripped out every few years. Especially w a new protagonist.

Ethan is just the perfect representation of deserved better. He pays his taxes on time, probably helps that old lady down the street whose husband just died. Tells the same joke we’ve all heard a thousand times to the point only Mia and him are laughing at it. He would be there for every parent teacher conference and up at 130 with a flashlight chasing away the monsters from Rose’s closet. The world may be crazy somewhere but he’s content to just be here with his family.

And Capcom took all of that away. I don’t think I’ll ever not be angry about it.

[tinyboxxtink]

"Doppelganger" *Part 17*

WHOO, y'all I really didn't think I had a lot left in me and then this just came pouring out. Wow. So yeah after about 3 hours and some crying and a breakdown later, here's another chapter. Definitely gonna get to 20. Oh yeah.

Warning: ANGST. SO MUCH ANGST. This one kinda got too close to home, but I made it that way so I have no one to blame but myself. If it hits close to home for you as well, I'm so sorry. Also if you're sensitive to....idk I guess I'll just say "drug use"? Use caution when reading.

Part 16

Part 18

Tag List

@madamsnape921

@lolliepopsicle

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@milkshqke

@wanniiieeee

@word-scribbless

@gibbs274

@sassyada

@aprildecker-blog

@bookishfanfic

@stars-in-the-skies-world

@stars-trash-18

@omgsuperstarg

@objection-argumentative

-------

That Monday you went to class for the first time since you had been abducted. You slunk into class and sat in the back trying to remain unnoticed, but everyone instantly turned to you.

"Oh my god Y/N! Are you ok?!" One student asked you.

"How scary was it?" Another one asked.

"Was Nevada good in bed?" One girl asked you, causing three girls to hit her and shoo her away.

"I um...I…" you tried to breathe, but the questions and chatter kept coming. It was too much for you to handle. You grabbed your stuff and ran out of the classroom, down the hall.

"Hey sweetie are you ok--?" A young Hispanic girl asked you. It took you back to when Gabi had befriended you. You backed away from her and ran out of the building into the quad. You were hyperventilating, you could barely see in front of you. You collapsed onto the grass, crying. You hit your speed dial to call Chloe.

“Hello?”

“Ch-Chloe, I--” You could barely breathe, you were crying so hard. People were starting to stare, you had to get control of yourself.

“Y/N? Oh my god babe are you ok? What happened?”

“I...I need you…” You gasped, trying to get up and duck behind a building where no one could stare at you.

“Oh, oh honey I’m across town right now. Otherwise you know I’d come right down there,” She apologized. “Why don’t you call--”

“I can’t call Rafael,” You cut her off. “I don’t want him to know how fucked up I still am about all of this, we just started to get back to normal,”

“...Um okay, well I don’t know what you want me to--”

“Forget it, I’ll be fine,” You hung up the phone before she could say anything else. You felt bad for being so short with her, but you weren’t exactly yourself right now.

You really didn’t want to have to use Rafael as your crutch, your lifejacket. He had his own life, his own career. He didn’t have time to babysit you. You took several deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down. You glanced around the corner, fewer people were in the quad now. You calmed yourself down enough to walk over and sit under a tree, breathing in the spring air.

You were just starting to calm down when your phone rang: RAFAEL CALLING.

Dammit Chloe…You reluctantly answered the phone with a fake chipper voice. “Hey baby!”

“Hola mi amor, Como estas?”

“I’m fine, Raffi…”

“Are you sure? Because Chloe just called me and--”

“She shouldn’t have called you,” You grumbled.

“Y/N, look baby if you’re in distress--”

“I’m not in distress, Rafael. I’m fine,”

“Are you--”

“Yes, I’m sure. I’m sorry Chloe called you. I’ll see you at home,” You hung up the phone abruptly. You instantly felt guilty; why were you taking it out on him? He was just trying to help. But you didn’t want him worrying about you, that was the whole point. You just wanted to forget about everything for a while. You laid down under the tree and closed your eyes, enjoying the sunshine on your face.

-------

Meanwhile

Rafael really didn’t want to betray your trust, but he didn’t know what else to do at this point. You clearly needed outside help and you refused to let him give it to you, so he felt like he had no choice. He went down to the precinct and into Olivia’s office.

“Rafa,” Olivia stood up as he walked in.

“Hey Liv,” He nodded, giving her a small hug. She walked back around her desk as he took a seat.

“What’s up?”

“It’s….Y/N,”

“She’s having trouble dealing with her trauma, isn’t she?”

“...Yes,” He nodded sadly. “And she won’t talk to me. She won’t let me talk to her about it because she doesn’t want me to think of her as a ‘victim’ and--”

“Well of course not Rafael, you’re her--” She paused. “Are you two still engaged?”

“YES, Olivia,” He sternly replied. “We’re still engaged,”

“Okay, sorry,” She bit her lip. “Anyway, of course she’s not going to want to discuss her trauma with you, you’re her loved one. Would you want her to see you as a victim?”

“...No,” He shook his head. “But she needs to talk to someone,”

“Are you suggesting I talk to her?” Olivia half laughed. “Because that’s probably worse than talking to you--”

“Why? She won’t feel ashamed telling you things, she doesn’t care what you think of her,”

“Well, gee thanks,”

“You know what I mean,”

“Yeah I do. She doesn’t like me,” Olivia pointed out. “Which means she won’t be as open to me, you know that,”

“Well, I mean if any of the other squad members come to her she’s just going to be upset more and more people know about her, and I just thought---” He sighed and held his head in hands. “I just-- I don’t know what to do, Liv,”

Olivia came around her desk again and put a hand on Rafael’s shoulder. “...I’ll try, if you really want me to,”

He looked up and gave her a small smile. “Thank you, Liv,”

-----------------

That Night

You had come back to Rafael’s after your little meltdown. While you were at school, a very kind gentleman found you lying under the tree and noticed you needed a bit of shall we say, a chill pill. You had gladly taken a few and popped them on the way home, and you were currently sleeping it off in the front of the TV when Rafael came home, and he wasn’t alone.

“Y/N….Baby?” He called, but there was no answer. He gave Liv a worried look as he dashed through your living room, to find you unconscious on the couch while Netflix was asking “ARE YOU STILL THERE?”

“Oh my god, Y/N! Baby, baby are you okay? Y/N, wake up!” Rafael violently shook you as Olivia started to call for a bus. She stopped dialing when you groggily awoke, stroking Rafael’s face with a sleepy smile.

“Heyyy, baby--” You kissed him deeply.

“Are you--- are you high, right now?” He looked at you horrified.

“What? No! No….maybe a little bit,” You bit your lip trying not to giggle at his very serious face.

“God dammit-- Y/N, carino-- why--?”

“Oh my GOD,” You suddenly noticed Olivia standing behind him. “What is she doing here?”

“She came to--”

“Oh my god, you told her to come here didn’t you? You’re kicking me out, aren’t you? For HER?”

“What? No! Jesus Christ, Y/N what exactly did you take--”

“Oh yeah, let me just tell the ginger snap here what drugs I’m on, and then she can throw me in jail and have you all to herself!”

“What the-- alright that’s it, you with me,” He grabbed your arm and started dragging you to his room. “I’m sorry about this Liv,” He looked at her apologetically.

“Oh yeah, sorry Olivia, wouldn’t want to interrupt your romantic evening with my fiancée,” You mocked, making Rafael walk faster. He pulled you into the room but you were so out of it you flopped onto the bed like a rag doll.

“Jesus-- Okay seriously baby, you need to tell me what you took,”

“No! It was nothing, it was just something to calm me down, it’s not a big deal--”

“It IS a big deal!” He yelled angrily. “Look at you! You can barely sit up!”

“I’m fine! See?” You sat up for about 10 seconds before falling back down on the bed again. You started giggling uncontrollably until you saw Rafael’s face. He wasn’t angry anymore he was...sad? Scared? His eyes were filled with tears, his hand was over his mouth.

“....What is happening right now?” You blinked several times, trying to clear your mind. Seeing Rafael in distress suddenly made being high not so fun anymore.

“...You know this is how I had to see my dad every day when I was a kid,” He said through choked back tears. “You know how traumatic it is to see you like this Y/N I don’t know why--”

“What?” You suddenly sat up quickly, holding on to the edge of the bed to keep you upright. “I...no, you said he used to beat--”

“You think he was SOBER while doing that?!” Rafael yelled louder now, and became more angry.

“...No, I guess not--” You hung your head down, mostly because it was difficult to keep it upright.

“I...I can’t talk to you when you’re like this, I just can’t,” He threw his hands up and walked towards the door.

“Rafa I--”

“Just sleep it off, we’ll talk later,” He snarled and slammed the door.

Almost immediately you burst into tears; how could you have done this to him? You hadn’t really thought about his whole dad situation, but now that he said it out loud it made perfect sense.

You just wanted to feel better, without causing him grief. And instead you had caused him heartache and pain. It made you hate yourself more than you already did.

And to top it off, Olivia was now out there with him in the living room, probably comforting him. Holding him while he cried about how you hurt him. You were driving him right back into her arms, no potions needed. You wanted so badly to just go in there and tell her to get the fuck away from your man, but you still couldn’t stand. You just laid there and cried until you fell asleep.

------

Hours later, you woke up to a dark room once again. It was 10:30. How long had you been out? You cautiously opened the door, but the living room was dark. Rafael wasn’t there?

“...Baby?” You called through the apartment to make sure, but sure enough there was no answer. You flipped on the light to see a note with your name on it. Oh god.

“No, no no no no--” You raced over and opened the paper, praying to God it wouldn’t say what you thought it would.

“Y/N-- Went out to clear my head, think about things. There’s food in the fridge I’ll be back.”

“I’ll be back?” You read out loud. When? Tonight? Tomorrow? A week from now? You started to grab your phone to call him, but before you could the door swung open and Rafael came sneaking in-- with Olivia.

“Oh my, Oh my god--” You wanted to vomit right there. They were both clearly a little tipsy and giggling, but when they saw you they straightened up quickly.

“Hey baby, you’re up,” He smiled sweetly, walking over and kissing your cheek.

“Oh so this is what we’re doing now, is it? I get high and upset you, so you go and get drunk to upset me?”

“What? No, I just-- we were just--” He looked to Liv.

“Y/N listen, we were just--” Olivia tried to explain.

“Oh I think you were JUST LEAVING, bitch,” You growled, starting to charge her but Rafael grabbed your arm.

“HEY, leave Liv alone,” He told you sternly, almost glaring at you. You had been here before, this was too familiar. You looked at him in surprise, then turned to Olivia with anger.

“...You did it again, didn’t you?” Hot tears stung your eyes as you swiped your arm from Rafael’s grasp.

“Did what?” Olivia asked, oblivious.

“You dosed him again, DIDN’T YOU?!” You started to charge her again as you screamed, but this time Rafael grabbed you by your waist.

“Y/N! Nobody fucking dosed me, you wanna talk about dosing? Let’s talk about how I found you earlier,” He barked.

“That was completely different--” You started to defend yourself.

“Why? Because you wanted to feel better?” He asked you angrily. “Because I went out and did the same thing, and just because you’re insecure about Liv and I, suddenly she has me under a spell?”

“This isn’t you,” You shook your head with tears rolling down your cheeks. “It just isn’t, I know it’s not,” You looked to Olivia, who still retained her confused look.

“Olivia, can you--?” Rafael looked at her while nodding at the door.

“Yeah, of course, I’ll-- talk to you later,” She gave a little nervous wave before walking out and closing the door behind her.

------

���See? Are you happy now?” He threw up his hands. “I didn’t go after her like a little love spelled puppy, Y/N,”

“You don’t have to mock me--”

“I told you I wasn’t under anything! You think that just because I’m mad at you, suddenly I must be under some kind of spell? Because, what? Because I can’t be mad at you, because you’re ‘going through something’? What about me?! What about what you’re putting me through?!”

“I’m trying NOT TO!!!!!!” You screamed.

“Yeah well you’re doing a hell of a job,” He laughed sarcastically, walking through the living room to his room.

“Rafael, Rafa!” You chased after him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to--”

“To what, Y/N? To get high in the middle of the day on god knows what? Or did you not mean to get caught?” He sneered as he started to get undressed.

“I just wanted to feel better!!” You stomped your foot.

“I don’t make you feel better? You need drugs for that?!” Tears came to his eyes. He couldn’t believe what you were saying.

“No!!! I just--” You paused, trying not to cry. “I just don’t want our relationship to be you constantly comforting me, or-- or taking care of me, like I’m a child!”

“Yeah well you’re sure as hell acting like one,” He tossed off his pants and dress shirt and stomped into his bathroom to get a t-shirt to wear with his boxers.

“....Why are you putting clothes on to sleep?” You asked him cautiously; you both usually slept naked in each other’s arms all night.

“Because I’m sleeping in the guest room, you can have the bed,” He pushed past you and out the door heading down the hallway to the guest room.

“No, no no no no Rafael don’t,” You quickly trailed him, grabbing his hand and making him face you.

“Why? I don’t make you feel better, why don’t you sleep with your pills?” He narrowed his eyes at you as he pulled away from you and started to walk away again.

“.....Please….” You softly whimpered, making him stop in his tracks. He didn’t turn around, he just looked at the ground and sighed.

“...Please don’t leave me alone,” You sounded like a little girl scared of the dark, but you didn’t care.

You couldn’t pretend that you didn’t need him anymore, because the truth is you did. You needed him by you every second of every day, you felt absolutely helpless without him. And you hated it. But you couldn’t hide it anymore.

After a long pause, Rafael turned back to face you, tears were streaming down your face. You looked so small and pitiful, he instantly regretted yelling at you like he had. He walked back slowly towards you, taking you in his arms and rubbing your back.

“I’m never going to leave you alone, carino,” He whispered as you sobbed into his chest. “I promise you,”

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered. “I’m so sorry about today. I just--”

“I know,” He nodded as he walked you back into his room and sat you on the bed as you pulled your clothes off. He took off his clothes and crawled into bed next to you, listening to your cries die down.

“I’m sorry I went out with Olivia, mi amor,” He apologized into your ear as he spooned you. “I knew how much that would hurt you and I did it anyway,”

“...It’s fine,” You nodded, even though you weren’t sure it was. But, you knew on some level that being high in front of Rafael would upset him and you did it anyway, so you couldn’t really hold onto it.

“....You really do need someone to talk to though, baby. Even if it’s not me,” He whispered, kissing the back of your neck gently. “Please?”

“Okay,” You nodded as you turned to face him. “I’ll do anything you want me to Rafa,”

“I want you to do it for you,” He pressed his forehead against yours.

“I don’t care about me, I care about you!” You shook your head.

“And I care about-- see this is what I’m talking about, baby,” He sighed. “You have to stop-- punishing yourself, or hating yourself, for whatever happened. We’re never going to be able to move on if you don’t,”

“....Okay,”

“Okay you’ll do it?”

“...I’ll try,”

“Okay,” He kissed you gently. “That’s all I’m asking,”

“....I flushed the rest of the pills,” You told him softly, making him smile for the first time that night.

“Thank you, baby,” He kissed you again.

“And I don’t care if you think that you’re--- being a burden, or needy, or some kind of anchor because you need me to feel safe. I want you to feel safe, all the time. And I WANT to be the one who makes you feel safe. Not drugs, not alcohol, not anybody else. Me. And if I need to be by your side 24/7 for the time being, then that’s what I’ll do,”

“What? Rafa come on--” You started to protest.

“No, I’m serious,” He took your hands. “I made a commitment to you, and I’m damn sure going to keep it. I will protect you from now until the end of our lives. So, I’ll call Morgan tomorrow and tell her that until further notice, unless I’m in court I’ll be working from home, okay?”

“I---I can’t ask you to do that--”

“You’re not asking me, carino. I’m offering-- No, I’m telling you, that’s what I’m doing,”

“....Okay,” You nodded with a small smile, snuggling closer into his chest as he pulled you tighter.

“I love you, Y/N. I love you more than anything in the world,” He whispered to the top of your head as you fell asleep on his chest.

“I love you too Rafael,” You cooed as you drifted off to sleep.

[cherrysha]

If You Let Me

my stupid ass laptop crashed while writing this so i think that meant i should post it asap. Anyway i rewatched the chimera ant arc and Shoot’s transformation inspired me to make sad smut because yall kno i cant stay away from angst. i hope this hurts in a good way! feel free to tell me ur thoughts and opinions!

Summary: After surviving the Chimera Ants, Shoot comes back into your life after years of being gone, claiming to be a changed man. But you’re tired of being his only when he needs you.

Word count: 2,848

My requests are open atm

Warnings: dubcon, angst, fingering, oral sex

18+ crowd here. No minors should be reading this

You see him there. Standing in front of the store window. He doesn’t do anything, just stares until you notice him before disappearing into the crowded city streets. You can’t help but be shocked. He’d been gone for years, leaving you to wallow in your misery and self doubt.

Four hours left in your shift and you didn’t have to guess where you’d find him. Probably in the same place he always was when he decided to show up again. Every minute you stood there, greeting customers and cleaning up after them you couldn’t help but the think of what you’d actually say to him.

What you wanted was to yell, to scream until your voice left you. Maybe you’d quietly tell him to leave and never come back. But you’d done all of that before. No matter what you had to put your foot down. You shouldn’t have let it continue for so long anyway.

-

Four hours later and your hunch was correct. Door still locked, he sat right at your kitchen table nonchalantly leaning back as if he belonged there. At one point he did, but the memory of it alone is enough to make your chest ache.

“What is it Shoot?” You sigh, dropping your bag and keys on the table. You follow suit, dropping into a chair to sit across from him.

He’s quiet as you sit down, hand fiddling with the material of his shirt. Nervous habit, you knew all too well how hard they were to break.

“Why are you so upset?” And he asks it as if there’s nothing wrong. Like it was normal for him to be here. Your irritation was only growing as you stared at the man in front of you.

“What a stupid question.” You mumble, pulling a cigarette out of the pack in your pocket. Before you have time to react he’s crushing it between his fingers, eyes trained on you while he speaks

“I thought you stopped smoking.” It’s almost a question and his eyes are full of concern.

“Believe it or not, a lot changes when you’re not here. My life keeps moving without you.”

“Ah” he says, as if he’s finally realizing it.

“Do you think I might’ve changed since we last met?” You give him a once over, shaking your head ‘no’ before he continues.

“Maybe you can’t see it.” His eyes are guarded as he waits for your reaction. You know what this is before he even has time to finish. He was trying to sway you, make you believe he was different and let him stay for the night. And in the morning you’d be alone again.

“Ah..” you sigh, mimicking him. With a nod of your head, you pretend to play along.

“How many hours are you going to be a changed man?” You cross your arms “One? Two? Are you going to at least wait until I fall asleep this time?”

He lets out an exasperated sigh, finally letting an emotion play across his face. Irritation. How ironic. “Why do you have to be so -“

“You’re the one who decided to leave, Shoot.”

“And you always let me come back.” he says calmly. “How do you think I feel?” There’s guilt in his eyes, as if he means to say that  he knows the pain he’s caused and that it’s eating him alive. But the way it sounds when it hits your ears is that because you accepted him over and over again, you’ve caused him unnecessary grief. His words are enough to make you overlook the sad expression lingering on his face.

“Oh no... don’t you sit there and try to blame this on me! You left. I didn’t. Don’t make yourself out to be the victim here Shoot! I didn’t fuck up your emotions. That was all you!” There’s a pause as he stares at you. That’s how he always was. Always so composed but you could tell what he was thinking nonetheless.

“That’s not what I was trying to do” and there’s this resolve in his voice, as if he’s accepted the fact that this isn’t going in the direction he wanted it to.

You pinch the bridge of your nose, closing your eyes before responding. “Well, what were you trying to do then?”

And you know the your next words are harsh, but after years of holding your tongue you don’t care to mince your words for his benefit. He pauses to consider your question and that’s when you say it “Or do you not want to talk about it like usual? It’s just too fucking difficult you’re gunna have to run away like you always do, right?”

All he does is grit his teeth. But it’s that reaction alone tells you the most. Like the flip of a switch, anger swallowed any sadness that was left on his face, and that was enough to prove him right. He wasn’t the person who left you all those years ago. You lean back in your chair with a sigh, choosing to ignore the tension in the room and his piercing gaze. No, this wasn’t the same Shoot. he should’ve left by now. But you know old dogs rarely learn new tricks. Just because he learned a new one didn’t mean he was the type of man to stay. He’d proven that time and time again.

“The doors open, Shoot.”

You rub your temples. This exchange has already dragged on far too long and the exhaustion you felt earlier from work was slowly returning to you.

He chuckles, it’s something dark and it makes your eyes snap open to look at him. He looks relaxed, like he’d finally gotten what he came for. But there’s tension hidden in his body. The loose fabric of his clothes couldn’t hide that.

“You always liked to hear yourself talk.”

And he says it as if he hasn’t been gone for years. Says it like you’re willing to concede if he just pushes hard enough. If he pressed the right buttons. It makes your stomach turn. Not again. You were done with this game.

“Yeah and look what good that did me.” You counter his laugh with a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes. “All that begging and I still ended up alone.”

You get up before you have time to see his reaction. it’s over, you shouldn’t care about the sting your words would leave him with. Slowly you move behind him to the balcony, letting your arms hold you tight, as if to keep yourself from falling apart.

You were too tired to be angry, too exhausted to bicker with him much longer. Yes, you loved him. Loved him since you were kids and that’s why you knew better than anyone that his word meant nothing. He was a man of inaction, it was in his nature to flee at the first sign of a fight. And after all these years, you loved him even though he was nothing but a coward.

You could give in tonight and wake up with an empty bed in the morning, or save yourself the heartache and make him leave right now.

The view on the balcony wasn’t bad for how cheap this place was. City stretched before you, lights and people converging as if it was just one giant organism. The sun was setting but, in a place like this there was rarely any peace. People scurried like ants, darting around as they quickly made their way home, to work, to restaurants and clubs. This big city with all these people and he still managed to find the one he was looking for. All so he could satisfy his guilt while paying no mind to how you felt. Yeah, It was time.

“The door, Shoot. It was nice catching up but I have work in the morning.” It’s quiet but you know he’s heard you.

There’s some shuffling as he gets up and you don’t let yourself turn around to see him leave again. You know what it looks like and you know the emotion that would climb it’s way out of your chest if you saw it one more time.

What you don’t expect is the feeling of his chest pressing against your back. The warmth there enough to make you release a quiet gasp. You were almost positive he would’ve taken the opportunity to leave. His arm pulls you closer as the words leave his lips.

“I’m sorry”

“I’ve heard it.” You snap, willing the anger and frustration back down your throat. “I’ve heard the ‘I love you’s and the promises to change before, Shoot. I’ve heard it all.” You can’t help it when your voice cracks, or the tears that start sliding down your face.

“Just save it and leave. Don’t make it even harder for me.”

He turns you around and he’s wearing this expression you haven’t seen on him before. You’d call it determination, that was the only thing you could describe it as, but there was something else there too.

His movements are slow and you can already tell where this is headed. In a few moments his lips are on yours, fingers tight against your chin holding you in place. You try to fight it, try to pull away but he can tell that the effort is half hearted and it only spurs him on even more. If you truly didn’t want it you would’ve stopped him earlier.

After a few seconds you give in to the taste of his mouth mixed with tears. It’s warm, it’s familiar and you can’t help but lean into it. You know it’s wrong but it’s too late to stop. When he finally lets you go you’ve shattered in his grasp. Resolve broken, there’s nothing left to hold back the flood of emotion that’s built up inside of you for years.

“I hate you!” You scream. And you hope beyond anything that the same man who would leave is still in there. You could pick up the pieces later but if he stayed it’d only be worse once he was gone. You try to push him away, tears soaking your shirt as you shove against his unforgiving chest.

“I hate you.. I hate you.” The words slowly fizzle into sobs that wrack through your body. Shoot only pulls you closer, arm coming to fit snug against your waist.

“I’m not leaving, y/n. Huh? Look at me. I’m not leaving.”

You can barely see through the tears flooding your eyes but it’s there. That resoluteness etched deep within the lines of his face. You prayed it was deep enough for him to have changed, you prayed it was shallow enough for him to leave for the final time and spare the ache in your heart. You prayed to be free of this cycle.

You lean into his chest, immediately soaking the fabric there. Your voice is a whisper when you finally speak again.

“I don’t believe you.”

“You don’t have to.” He whispers, ”Just give me a chance to prove it.”

You don’t speak, don’t react as he lifts you up and carries you inside. How long has it been since he was here? In your apartment? Your bedroom? You don’t remember, but it feels like a thousand lifetimes ago.

Soft kisses litter your pliant body as soon as he lays you on the bed. It’s different than the usual way he’s done it. Something tender flows through him and into you with each press of his mouth. Maybe he can sense that you’ve given up. It didn’t matter how hard you tried to fight it, you always ended up underneath him.

But there’s something so guilt free about the way he undresses you, lays you before him and gives a kiss to your mound. his touch is far sweeter than what you’ve come to expect. Before, he’d rush quickly through the act to outrun the guilt that slowly built up inside of him. But now, he takes his time, savoring every minute he can as his mouth sucks bruises into your hips. your thighs. There’s a tender moment before he buries his face between your them, quickly licking a stripe up your center before stopping to suck on your sensitive clit. Once he has a taste he can’t stop himself from taking what he came for. He doesn’t have the patience to.

Whimpers mix with the sobs that leave your throat. You could never help the way your body responded to his touch, couldn’t help the way slick dripped down your thighs at the mere thought of his mouth on you. And he doesn’t let any of it go to waste, lapping up everything you have to offer him. He’s starved, and now was his chance to have as much as he wanted.

He had been selfish, he knew that. But as much as he was giving right now he was aware of how much he was taking. This was no different. Your body underneath his. Legs tight around him as he ate his fill and then some, not stopping when you arched against him. A broken wail leaves your throat. No, he was still selfish. He needed all of you, every last drop.

There’s no break, no rest as he pushes you over the edge. You can tell he’s not trying to make up for lost time. He couldn’t change the past or the mistakes he’d made along the way. It wasn’t guilt either. No sadness in his face or in his movements against you. It was a desperate need that drove him, nothing more. You’d never seen this much of him. Still fully clothed, he left his heart lying naked on the sheets for you to see. It’s so overwhelming that it makes your head spin. Coupled with the orgasm still rushing through your body, it was enough to make you go limp beneath him. Before you know it, he’s lifting his mouth off of you, giving you respite from the pleasure for only a few seconds. Shoot kneels between your open legs as he deftly pushes two fingers deep within your cunt.

It’s indescribable. You hadn’t felt this good in such a long time, the pleasure of your last orgasm still so fresh that his thumb moving against your clit bordered on painful.

“I love you” and he says it like it’s not a mere feeling, but an absolute fact. His eyes bore into you, stern expression on his face as he fucks his digits in and out of your soaked core. He feels it. The clench around him as he says it. There’s no denying what his words are doing.

“Stop it Shoot.” The tears come back again with a vengeance as you cover your face with your arm. He speeds up, thumb brushing quicker at the bud hidden between your folds.

“I love you y/n”  and there’s this conviction in his voice you can’t ignore. But you know better. Sobs shake your body as you clench tight around him again. If he kept it up you weren’t going to last very long.

He’s moving, determined expression still on his face as he kisses his way up your stomach to your chest, nipping at a pert nipple before giving the same attention to the other. His lips are on your neck, sucking and biting dark bruises into your sensitive skin.

“You don’t have to say it. You’ve done enough for me sweetheart.”

His warm mouth presses against the hollow of your neck before continuing.

“Just come for me okay?”

You can’t help but to obey. You whine as your body tightens around him before it suddenly lets go. All the pain, the hurt, the betrayal is forgotten as he works his tongue into your mouth, taking every noise you make for himself. It’s mind numbing and the wind is knocked from you at the sheer force of it. You move your arm to fist the sheets underneath you, an electric current still pulsing through your veins as he stills his digits inside and switches to just lazily rubbing your clit in circles.

Shoot watches with rapture at the pleasure on your face, eyes red with tears and lips swollen from his mouth. He wanted more. Wanted to take everything you could give him and then some. To make you cry with pleasure as he pushed your body to it’s limits. But this night wasn’t for him and he was aware that you had given everything you could. It wasn’t about what he wanted. So he pulls his fingers out and undresses, shushing you when you start to tell him you can’t, your too tired. “I don’t want that” he whispers.

He crawls in bed next to you, holding your naked body close as he places kisses to your neck. your breathing evens out and you fall asleep much quicker than he expected. but it was okay. In the morning he’d be there. He’d prove himself to you and would take whatever you were willing to give afterwards

[hysterialevi]

Eitr | Chapter 2

Fanfic summary: In an alternate universe where the Raven Clan is wiped out, Sigurd ends up being rescued by the son of a Saxon ealdorman, and is tasked with being the boy’s new bodyguard. Upon meeting the boy’s father however, Sigurd soon realizes that the ealdorman is responsible for his clan’s destruction, and secretly plans for revenge while hiding behind the guise of a Norse pagan turned Christian.

Point of view: third-person

Pairing: Sigurd Styrbjornson x Male OC

This story is also on AO3 | Previous chapter | Next chapter

FORANGAL CASTLE, WEDENSCIRE

MORNING

Hurrying down the steps of the castle as her dress frolicked around her legs, Lady Edlynne rushed to catch up with her brothers before they could scurry off into town without her, and leave her at the mercy of Bishop Hundwerth once again.

Apparently, the head chef of the castle was in need of some trout for the meal she had planned for this evening, but instead of relying on one of her servants like she normally did, the ealdorman’s sons had offered to fetch it for her, and were preparing to leave from the main gate.

Unfortunately for Edlynne however, her name had been left out of their festivities as per usual, and thus left the girl at a disadvantage considering how she only learned of their plans mere moments ago.

But this time, she was not willing to stay back as she normally did. The dreary walls of the castle had caged her in for far too long already, and with Hundwerth constantly hammering his piety in her ears, the young noblewoman was in desperate need of some fresh air.

Jogging up to the main gate, Edlynne found her brothers conversing at the stable as they readied their horses for the journey ahead, giving them a light snack to start off the new day.

Her twin brother, Joseph, was currently sat on top of a rather wobbly looking fence with an apple in his hand, but seemed to fare alright thanks to his lean frame. He was only a boy of sixteen years and hardly stood any taller than his sister, but even then, some still considered him to be particularly scrawny for a nobleman.

As for their elder brother, Edric, his appearance was more akin to that of a soldier than a lord. Despite not even being thirty years of age yet, the young man already had his fair share of battle scars and sported a rough beard, giving him a much more weathered temperament than his father probably would’ve liked.

He constantly carried a sword around with him and armored himself with a black gambeson, but still made sure that the cross hanging from his neck was visible underneath the collar of his cape.

Both of them were a welcome sight to see after Edlynne’s many days of being trapped in the castle, but with the absence of their eldest brother Gareth looming over them like a stormy cloud, she couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sadness suddenly gripping at her heart.

“Joseph, Edric!” She exclaimed, running up to them. “Wait!”

The two boys turned their heads towards her, clearly surprised to see her face this morning.

“Sister,” Joseph greeted, “I didn’t expect to see you here today. It’s been ages since I last saw you out in the sun. Will you be joining us in town?”

Edlynne sighed out of annoyance. “God, I hope so. Bishop Hundwerth hasn’t dared take his eyes off me ever since I spoke of my interest in the Danes’ religion. He fears that their influence will corrupt me.”

Edric chuckled at that. “You thinking of converting to paganism, Edlynne?”

“Hardly,” she denied. “I will always be a Christian at heart, but I do not think it is wrong to have an interest in other religions either. How can we expect to resolve the conflict in our shire if we will not even attempt to understand our enemies?”

Joseph took a bite out of his apple. “Well, some people would consider that to be heresy.”

Edlynne crossed her arms. “Some people would see us at war for another century.”

The eldest threw a grin at his brother. “You hear that, Joseph? Wise beyond her years, this one. We should give her a seat next to father.”

Edlynne smiled in response. “You jest, but I’ll have you know that father has sought my counsel in the past. He spoke to me last night, in fact. Though... it’s not very often he actually listens to me, I’ll admit.”

Joseph hopped off the fence. “Well, whatever you do, just make sure he doesn’t hear of your fascination with the Danes. You know of his feelings for them.”

The girl’s expression drooped with sorrow. “Yes, I do. He’s changed so much ever since... well, you know.”

Falling into a state of heartache, the young woman quickly snapped out of her grief when she realized how she had dampened the mood and forced herself to push her thoughts aside, not wanting them to overtake her again. 

“But... let us not dwell on that. You two have a busy day ahead of you, and my chances of getting any fresh air dwindle with every minute Hundwerth isn’t near me. So let’s get going.”

Edric climbed on top of his horse, taking hold of the reins. “Alright. Edlynne, you go with Joseph. I’ll take my own mount. We’ll ride the path west of here, and cut through the woods into Agenbury. It’ll take longer, but the main roads are laden with soldiers nowadays. I’d rather not weave my way through them.”

Taking a seat behind her brother as he plopped himself onto the saddle, Edlynne wrapped her arms around Joseph’s waist and held him tightly as the three of them began trotting through the main gate, bidding the castle farewell.

It was a bright morning today, blotted with only a few clouds. The sun shone freely throughout the sky despite the residue from the recent storm, and thanks to the rain that poured on Wedenscire the previous night, a fresh layer of mist hung over the land, catching the light in a fashion that was worthy of paintings.

“It’s beautiful out here,” Edlynne remarked. “And also much colder than I remember. Though, that’s probably due to the storm. Still, it’s nice to be outside of the castle walls again. I can’t recall the last time father allowed me to leave. Thank you both for letting me come with you.”

“Of course,” Joseph replied. “I fear that Edric and I were also in need of some time away from Forangal. That’s why we volunteered to help Nelda. The poor old woman’s practically locked herself in the larder this morning, trying to prepare this meal for us.”

“How is Nelda?” Edlynne asked. “I’ve not spoken to her in ages.”

“Oh, you know her,” Joseph said sarcastically. “Cranky, old bat as usual. Still the same woman that used to chase us around the castle after we’d steal the treats when we were children.”

Edric butted in. “And then blame me for it.”

Joseph laughed at that. “Do you remember that one time Edlynne and I brought in that stray cat from the streets? And we accidentally left it alone in the kitchens? The wretched animal had buried its face in a meal she was making for father, and sent it spilling all over to the floor. I thought Nelda was going to butcher us all that day -- cat included.”

“Oh, don’t remind me. She dragged the two of you fools over to me later that day and shouted with a fury so hot that I could’ve sworn I saw flames on her breath. Gareth had to calm her down whilst we ended up cleaning the kitchen.”

Edlynne smiled at the memory. “Gareth always had a way with Nelda. He knew how to ease her temper.”

“Indeed,” Joseph said. “Though, I think he had that effect on everyone. Something about him always brought peace to other peoples’ hearts. He knew how to unify them in times of division, and comfort them in times of war.” 

A morose sigh escaped the sullen boy. “Things will... not be the same without him around. I know it’s been over a month since he died, but... I fear the wounds are still fresh.”

“Aye.” Edric agreed quietly. “He was a good brother to us all. And an even better friend. It was a tragic loss, the day he died. I think father’s taken the brunt of it.”

A sudden thought crossed the man’s mind. “Edlynne, you said you spoke with him last night?”

The girl nodded. “I did.”

“And... how did he seem? Did he seem better to you?”

Edlynne stuttered, unsure of how to describe their encounter. “I... I don’t know, to be honest. He appeared to be doing alright, but it felt like he was wearing a mask. As if... he was simply putting on a strong face for everyone else’s sake. Deep down though, I think he’s still hurting.”

“Of course he is,” Edric noted. “He lost one of his children. It’s a parent’s worst nightmare.”

Joseph raised a question. “What exactly happened to Gareth, anyway? I know he was killed near Grantebridge, but father has yet to give us any further details.”

“That’s because you would not wish to hear them,” his brother explained. “Believe me. All you need to know is that a clan of Danes killed him. The Raven Clan, specifically.”

The name was unfamiliar to Edlynne. “The Raven Clan? Who are they?”

“You haven’t heard of them? They’ve been causing quite a stir in Mercia -- killing kings and crowning new ones. From what I understand, they’re the ones who helped the Ragnarssons remove Burgred from his throne.”

“But why kill Gareth?” Joseph asked. “What could they possibly gain from killing the son of an ealdorman? Aside from a lifetime of conflict, that is.”

Edric sighed solemnly. “I do not know their reasons, nor their justifications. But you would do well not to get caught up on it. All that matters now is that Gareth is at peace. He was a devote Christian, and he now joins our mother in Heaven, forever to be at God’s side. He would not want us to sulk. So keep your chins up -- both of you -- and let us carry on with our day.”

~~~~~~~~~~

A WHILE LATER

AGENBURY

Finally arriving at Agenbury, the three siblings slowed down to a halt as the peaceful settlement came into view, decorating the flat horizon with a quaint series of houses and shops.

The quiet town seemed to be the same as usual -- lunatics and all -- and despite the hefty toll the war had taken on its people, everything appeared to be in working order.

The fisherman’s wife, Ardith, remained attached to her husband’s stall as always, and with the unpleasant stench of freshly-captured fish to start off her morning, the permanent scowl on her face only seemed to deepen.

“There’s Ardith,” Edric pointed out. “She’ll have the trout we need.” He climbed off of his horse, leaving it near the main entrance. “Come along then, you two. Let’s finish this quickly.”

Mirroring their brother’s actions, Joseph and Edlynne unmounted their horse before following the young man into town, hanging behind him as he navigated his way through the scattered groups of civilians.

Many of the town’s residents seemed to eye the noble family with a wary gaze -- which was uncommon for their people -- and the further they stepped into the watchful settlement, the more everyone’s voices seemed to lower into hushed tones.

“Is it just me,” Joseph whispered among them, “or does it feel... odd here today?”

Edlynne narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “No, it’s definitely not just you. The people here seem frightened. It’s almost like the whole town is... waiting for something. Do you reckon something happened before we arrived?”

“It’s most likely because of the war,” Edric assumed. “I know the conflicts in Wedenscire have had a rough impact on these people. Who knows what kind of horrors they’ve had to endure at the hands of the Danes? Though... there don’t seem to be any signs of a raid.”

Joseph disagreed. “If there had been a raid, we would’ve heard about it. This is something different.”

“I suppose we’ll find out, given enough time. Just keep your wits about you, and try not to alarm anyone.���

Carrying on with their plans, the three of them casually walked up to Ardith’s stall as the woman focused on organizing her collection of fish, stopping only to greet the peculiar customers that had suddenly shown up at her shop.

“Hello, Ardith.” Edric said, deterring the woman’s attention.

“Oh, good morning, milord!” She said in surprise. “I was not expecting to see you here today. Is there something I can help you with?”

“I’m just here to pick up some trout for Nelda back at the castle.”

The stout woman rested a hand on her hip. “Ah, I see. Normally, it’s her servants that come by, but I won’t turn away a friendly face.”

Her expression grew dim. “I’m... so sorry about what happened to Gareth, Edric. We received the news not too long ago. He was loved by many people in Agenbury. It’s such a shame that he had to depart from this world in so brutal a manner. He will be missed.”

Edric nodded in agreement. “Indeed. His death has affected us all, I fear.”

“And Aegenwulf? How does your father fare?”

The young man shrugged in uncertainty. “Hard to say. He keeps his head high and does what he must to protect this shire, but he bears the burdens of twenty men combined. I do not envy his position.”

Ardith gave him a look of sympathy. “Aye. But have no fear, Edric. Your father’s always been a fighter. Trust me. I’ve known him since before he had any grey in his hair. He will come through. I know he will.”

“Thank you, friend. Your words bring me comfort.”

Joseph jumped into the conversation, inquiring about the rest of the town. “Ardith, do you have any idea why Agenbury’s so on edge today? The town carries a strange mood.”

The woman nearly offered a response, but bit her tongue in hesitance. “Y-Yes, but I do not wish to burden you with our troubles, young lord. I imagine you’ve enough of your own already.”

Edlynne took a step towards the stall. “Please, Ardith. If something has happened in this town, we’d like to help. You’re our people, after all.”

Ardith let out a deep sigh and crossed her arms, glancing back at her house.

“I-It’s my husband, Wilfred,” she said quietly. “He went fishing at the harbor this morning as he always does, but... instead of returning with a sack of fish, he came back with a bloody Dane...!”

Edric paused in alarm upon hearing that. “What? A Dane? In Agenbury?”

“Believe me, I was just as shocked as you. Apparently, Wilfred found him washed up on the shore, beaten and wounded. By whom or what, I don’t know, but he already looked dead by the time my husband dragged him back.”

Joseph decided to ask for more information. “Do you have any idea who he is? Or where he came from?”

Ardith shook her head. “No. We’ve yet to speak to him. He’s been unconscious ever since Wilfred brought him back from the harbor.”

The boy let out an uneasy breath. “Father’s not going to like this. He’s been tense enough already ever since Gareth died. If he finds out that a Dane has infiltrated the town...”

Edlynne cut him off. “He won’t. Not yet.”

Her twin quirked a brow. “What do you mean, not yet? He’s the ealdorman, for God’s sake. He has to know.”

“We can’t tell him about this. Not for the moment, at least. If father learns about this Dane’s presence, he’ll have him killed for sure.”

Edric scowled. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

The noblewoman remained staunch in her belief. “Listen, both of you -- I know everyone’s still hurting from Gareth’s death, and believe me, I am too. But we could learn something from this Dane. He might be useful to us.”

Edric wasn’t entirely convinced yet. “We don’t even know if this man speaks our tongue, Edlynne. And if he does, there’s no guarantee he’ll help us anyways. You know the Danes. They’d rather pick death over dishonor.”

“Even then, I’d like to be certain of what this man’s intentions are before we start lopping off anyone’s heads. Let me speak to him, at least.”

Edric sighed in defeat, crossing his arms. “...Very well. If that is what you wish. But be careful, sister. We have no idea who this man is. And I’d rather we return to the castle in one piece.”

The young man turned back to Ardith, trying to calm the woman’s nerves. “Have no fear, old friend. We’ll speak to this Dane for you. He need not worry you any longer.”

She seemed pleased with that. “Thank you, Edric. I think everyone would feel better if we knew who he was, or why he was here. He should still be at home.”

“Then I will go there,” Edlynne said. “Joseph can come with me whilst you conclude your business here, brother. That way, we can get things done faster.”

“Alright,” Edric agreed. “I’ll meet you there once I’m finished here. Don’t do anything drastic before I arrive.”

The girl gave him a reassuring nod. “Of course.” She turned to her twin, beckoning him to follow. “Come on, Joseph. Let’s go see this Dane for ourselves.”

Allowing their paths to diverge for the moment, Edlynne and Joseph made their way to Wilfred’s house while Edric stayed behind to collect the fish for Nelda, clearly still unsettled by the strange turn of events.

He understood it was unfair to judge one Dane based on the actions of many others, but in a time of war, compassion and empathy were always a dangerous thing to gamble with.

Edric knew details about Gareth’s death that the twins didn’t. He knew how the Danes had butchered him and left his body for the ravens, and he knew that their people were not so easily negotiated with.

But still... he supposed he could let Edlynne investigate this Dane’s sudden appearance, at the very least. He may have been skeptical of this man’s motivations, but he could not deny that he was curious to learn the truth for himself.

And so, without another word said, Edric simply let the twins go about their business as he continued his conversation with Ardith, eager to get this errand over with.

Meanwhile, Edlynne and Joseph walked side-by-side as they approached the fisherman’s house, speculating amongst themselves about what this Dane could’ve possibly wanted. It wasn’t uncommon for a Northman to be in Wedenscire exactly, but Agenbury was a different story.

“A single Dane showing up on our shores...” Edlynne murmured, “what could it mean?”

Joseph shrugged nervously. “Nothing good, that’s for certain. I’m aware that not all of them are barbarians as Hundwerth would have us believe, but tensions have been rising ever since Gareth was killed. If we don’t sort this situation out properly, it could reach a breaking point.”

“Then let us make haste, lest it comes to that.”

Strolling up to the fisherman’s front door, Joseph firmly knocked on the wooden surface as the two of them waited for a response, silently observing the quiet house.

There didn’t seem to be much activity happening inside -- probably due to the Dane’s unconscious state -- and the only sounds they could hear were the rapid footsteps of a man coming to greet them at the door.

“Pardon my untidiness, whoever you are,” a gruff voice said from the inside as they moved around some objects to clear the way, “but I fear things have been rather... disorderly this morning.”

The fisherman swung open the door, revealing an old but lively man standing in the entryway.

“Now, then, how can I--” He came to a halt, his eyes widening in surprise upon seeing the twins. 

“Lord Joseph...! And sweet Lady Edlynne. Well, I certainly didn’t expect to see you two here today. I suppose this morning’s just chock-full of unlikely guests, isn’t it? What brings you to my doorstep?”

Joseph beamed at the elderly man. “Hello, Wilfred. Your wife sent us. She said you had a... Dane problem?

Wilfred scratched the bald patch on his head, sighing in discontent. “Aye. The poor bastard. I found him this morning, lying unconscious and alone. He was laden with battle wounds, and covered in blood. I don’t have a clue why the river shat him out in Agenbury of all places, but I wasn’t about to leave a man to die. Saxon or not.”

Edlynne admired his compassion. “Then you’ve already done more than most. Has he woken up yet?”

“Nay. He’s been out cold ever since I brought him back. He spoke briefly when we first met, but it was mostly out of delirium. Couldn’t understand a word he said. You know the Danes. Bloody weird language, they have.”

“May we see him?” Joseph asked. “We’d like to speak with this man ourselves, if possible.”

Wilfred stepped off to the side, granting them entrance. “Of course. Do what you wish. Though, I’m not sure if he’ll wake up during your stay here. He was in a severely bad state when I found him.”

Strolling through the front door, Joseph and Edlynne welcomed themselves into the cozy atmosphere of Wilfred’s home as they gazed around in curiosity, anxious to see what this Dane looked like.

Joseph had already met a few of their people during his time with Edric and Gareth, but Edlynne on the other hand, had yet to meet a Dane for herself. Aegenwulf often kept them at a distance when it came to interactions with his daughter, and now that he had lost one of his own children to their axes, the girl imagined he would only grow more protective.

“Look,” she said with a soft gasp, “there he is.”

Following his sister’s line of sight, Joseph spotted the fallen Dane sleeping on the opposite side of the room, seemingly undisturbed.

He was currently resting on a makeshift bed that Wilfred had created, and was wrapped head-to-toe in an abundance of bandages. He looked like he was still breathing -- for the time being -- but just based on the amount of blood that was already seeping from his skin, Joseph started to wonder if they’d even get a chance to see him wake.

He appeared rather normal though, the boy thought. For a Dane. His skin was etched with many traditional Nordic markings, and the red hair on his head had been shaved in a fashion common with his people. Meanwhile, his beard remained bushy and untamed, and the calloused texture of his hands told Joseph he was no stranger to battle.

“Friendly looking fellow, isn’t he.” The boy remarked.

Edlynne walked closer to the man, driven by her fascination.

“I’ve... never seen a Dane before. Father has always done his best to keep me away from them, but... he looks surprisingly human. Bishop Hundwerth always makes it sound as if they’re the Devil himself roaming the earth.”

Joseph took a seat on a nearby chair. “Bishop Hundwerth would call it heresy if one of his priests farted too loudly in the chapel. Pay him no mind.”

The noblewoman turned back to the fisherman, asking him more questions.

“Wilfred, what was he like when you found him? I know you said he was hurt, but... how hurt, exactly?”

The old man exhaled deeply, crossing his arms. “Let’s just say I’m surprised he was alive to begin with. He had two bloody arrows sticking out of his chest, and his skin was torn up from getting sliced so many times. I don’t know much about their pagan gods, but they must be a protective bunch to pull him out of that.”

Joseph thought back to their talk with Ardith. “Your wife said you found him on the shore?”

“Indeed. I assume the river carried him here from upstream. Possibly from the north. He crawled out of it like a corpse rising from the dead.”

“Do you think he’ll live?”

Wilfred furrowed his brow in a grim manner. “I... I don’t know, Joseph. I’ve done everything I can to patch him up, but I’m just a simple fisherman at the end of the day. I’m no healer.”

Interrupting their conversation, a knock suddenly emitted from the door, leading all of them to bring their attention to the entrance.

“That must be Edric.” Joseph announced. 

Allowing their new guest to come in, Wilfred stepped over the many items scattered around the house before opening the door, revealing Edric on the other side.

“Ah, hello, milord. Your siblings are here already.”

The young man poked his head in, greeting the twins with a new sack of fish on his shoulder.

“Well?” He said, walking into the house. “Have you two learned anything?”

Joseph shook his head. “Not much, I’m afraid. We’re fairly certain the river carried the Dane here from upstream, but other than that... all we have is speculation.”

Edric strode towards them, kneeling beside his sister. “Speculation won’t do us any good. We need to know for sure who he is, and what he wants. I assume he hasn’t woken up yet?”

“No. He’s been unconscious this whole time. We don’t even know if he’ll survive.”

Wilfred joined their side, offering his advice to Edric. “As I was explaining to your brother earlier, milord, the only way this Dane is going to survive is if you get him in the hands of a healer. I’ve done what I can to buy him some time, but... without proper medical treatment, I fear he may pass soon.”

Edlynne’s expression lit up with an idea. “Linette! Back at the castle! She could look after him. She knows what she’s doing.”

The look on Edric’s face alone was enough to make his disapproval clear. “What? You want to bring a Dane back to the castle? After what just happened with Gareth?”

“I know it’s risky,” the young woman conceded, “but he’s dying, Edric. He needs our help.”

“So do many of our own people.” He countered. “We need to save our resources for those we can trust; those who will fight for us. Not stray Danes that wash up on our shores.”

Edlynne almost appeared offended at that. “Brother, do you hear yourself? This man’s life is in our hands, and you’re willing to just throw it away? All because he’s a Dane?”

The older man fell silent for a moment, admittedly feeling somewhat ashamed of his words, but still obstinate in his opinion. 

“I know it’s harsh, Edlynne, but you’ve not seen the horrors that have occurred between our people and the Danes. We’d be foolish to trust one, especially when we have no idea who he is. There’s also the fact that we’d have to keep his presence a secret. Until he wakes up, at least.”

“I think it’s worth it if it means we can save a life,” she replied. “I understand your fear, brother, but what sort of Christians would we be if simply stood by and watched this man die? His being a pagan doesn’t make him any less deserving of our help.”

Edric grew frustrated with his sister’s naivety. “It’s not just about the religion, Edlynne. It’s also about the war. There’s no love lost between Saxons and Danes, and for good reason. How do you think our friend here is going to react when he wakes up in a foreign castle, surrounded by hostile forces?”

The young woman frowned. “And what if he has a clan? What if they come looking for him? How do you think they’ll react when they find out we simply left him to die?”

Joseph shrugged in agreement. “She raises a fair point, Edric. If we help this man and he turns out to hate the Saxons, so what? We’ll have a castle full of guardsmen fighting against a single Dane. But if we don’t help him and his clan comes looking for him, we’ll have an entire army to deal with, plus anyone who’s allied with them. I say we bring him back. How much harm could he do in this condition, anyways?”

Edric sighed in defeat, finding himself at a loss for words. He really wasn’t fond of the idea of bringing a stranger back into the midst of their home -- especially when that stranger was a viking -- but deep down, he knew it was the right thing to do.

After all, what good was he as a Christian if he was not even willing to help those in need? He may have distrusted the Danes for their crimes in the past, but on the other hand, he had no way of indicating that this particular man had any similar motives.

For all he knew, this could’ve just been some poor soul who had gotten caught in the crossfire, and left for dead. There was nothing that could prove he had any intentions of doing wrong by their people, and... perhaps it would’ve been cruel to assume otherwise without even giving him a chance to wake up.

“...Alright, you two.” Edric finally said. “We’ll bring the Dane back to the castle.”

Edlynne beamed with appreciation. “You mean it?”

“Yes, but this will not bode well with father.”

Joseph dismissed the warning. “Father is blinded by his grief. He’ll understand eventually.”

Edric stood up from the floor and handed the sack of trout to his brother, giving him a new set of instructions.

“Here, take this. Ride back to Forangal. I’ll bring the Dane with me, and meet you two at Linette’s clinic later.”

Joseph groaned in effort as he lugged the sack over his shoulder, surprised at how heavy it was.

“Sounds good. Stay safe on the way back, brother. We promise not to tell father about this.”

“Good.”

Bringing his attention to Wilfred, Edric took out a few pieces of silver and placed them in the man’s hands, giving him an appreciative nod.

“Here, Wilfred. For your troubles.”

The fisherman smiled warmly. “Thank you, Edric. You’re far too kind.”

The nobleman chuckled. “My sister would disagree.”

Making their way out of Wilfred’s house, the siblings finally took their leave from Agenbury and swiftly returned to the stables, eager to ride back to the castle. They had no idea how well they’d be able to keep this a secret, considering all the prying eyes at Forangal, but the three of them were determined to ensure this man’s survival.

He could’ve been the key to all the conflicts that had arisen in Wedenscire. So many fights had broken out in the past few years between their people and the Danes, that a part of Edlynne hoped their new friend’s presence would help to ease the tensions. 

Though, she couldn’t help but wonder if her elder brother was right. What if Edric turned out to be correct, and this Dane only ended up causing more trouble? Was it wise to trust a man so blindly?

Probably not, but that didn’t hinder her desire to help the wounded man. He was completely at their mercy in his current condition, and Edlynne did not have the heart to cast him aside, regardless of the risks.

So, with a nervous heart, the young woman simply followed her brothers out of town and prepared herself for the journey ahead, praying that it would not end in more bloodshed. She knew how adamant their father was in his hatred for Danes, and she hoped that he would be able to see past the grief that still held onto him so tightly.

Gareth would’ve vouched for peace, after all. He always favored the diplomatic route over unnecessary violence, and in light of recent events, Edlynne imagined he would’ve wanted them to save this man too.

It was the only right thing to do, Edlynne thought. And she did not intend diminish her brother’s legacy.

[softboywriting]

Stay | Shawn Mendes | Werewolf AU

Summary: You’re a single mom to a newborn werewolf son. Shawn is your friend, crush, and neighbor who happens to be a werewolf as well. You have no idea how to raise a baby, but Shawn is more than willing to help. [fluff] [baby fic] [werewolf au] [I know I've used Milo before but I really love the name]

Word Count: 2.8k

|Masterlist in Bio|

You're at your limits. For three days your son, Milo, has been crying his little head off. It seems nothing you do is enough to quell the sobbing for more than an hour or two at a time. Even when he's asleep he isn't resting, waking up every so often to scream relentlessly. No one prepared you for life with a newborn werewolf, but here you are, with a three month old little menace. It was hell going through your pregnancy primarily alone, only receiving support from a close friend who had a child two years ago. You were never supposed to go through it alone but...your ex just left one day, walked out and ghosted, the piece of shit.

None of that matters now, nearly a year later. You've moved on, pushed the heartache away and focused on the here and now. On your new life as a mother to a small very complicated child that you love unconditionally.

"Need some help?"

You turn your head and look to where the voice came from beside you. Sure enough it's your cute, really sweet and complete crush of a neighbor, Shawn, walking out of the doorway to the stairwell of your apartment building. "Help?"

Shawn gestures to Milo crying in your arms. "The crying?"

"Oh." You're a bit embarrassed. You feel horrible when other people have to deal with his crying. It's like you're less of a parent because you can't console him. "No, he'll stop eventually."

"He's a werewolf right?"

"Yes." You shift Milo up your shoulder and pat his back. He continues to cry, that weak strained new baby cry. "How'd you know?"

Shawn grins big and lets out a soft laugh. "I'm a werewolf too, remember? And you told me he was when you brought him home."

"Oh, right. Sorry, my brain is a little scrambled lately."

"Can I try something? I totally understand if you don't want to though."

You sigh. At this point you're willing to try anything, and it wasn't as if you didn't know Shawn. He's your neighbor and you'd even consider him a friend. He's a nice guy and you'd love to get to know him a lot better, but a baby puts a damper on things like that. "Sure, good luck." You slide Milo down your shoulder and hand him carefully to Shawn.

"Hey bud, hey, shh." Shawn coos, putting Milo up on his chest against his shoulder. He cradles the back of his head and rubs down his back. "Easy, shhh, yeah. It's okay little guy, it's okay."

To your utmost surprise, Milo begins to settle down. You'd be lying if you said it didn't make you a little bit upset that Shawn is able to calm him down so quickly. Milo didn't even know him. You watch as Shawn massages the back of Milo's neck in almost a pinching motion.

"What are you doing?"

Shawn sways back and forth. "It's a comforting tactic. My mom used it on me and my little sister as a baby. It's almost like when you see wolves pick up their young by the scruff of their neck. It's a sensitive spot for us."

"Oh...Does that usually work?"

Shawn nods. "In my experience, yes, if the crying isn't for hunger or bathroom needs."

You flush, embarrassed you didn't know that. How could you? No one has a handbook on how to raise a werewolf. Not to your knowledge anyways.

"You have a lot of experience with baby werewolves?"

"A bit. My sister has a kid and so do some of my friends. I don't mind helping out."

"Thank you," you say as the elevator dings and the doors open. A line of people file out and you pick up Milo's car seat and your grocery bags. "Are you going back up?"

"Mmm." Shawn steps in with you, hand on Milo's back. "I was heading out but I think I'll wait."

"Oh, no, please. I can handle Milo, you have stuff to do."

"Nah, it's nothing. I was just going to grab some coffee." He rubs his cheek against Milo's fine dark hair. "I can hang out for a few minutes if you want to get your groceries put away and stuff."

"Really?" You ask, searching Shawn's eyes for some sign that he is joking. "I mean, you don't have to do that. It's okay, you don't have to keep holding him."

Shawn chuckles softly. "I love babies, I really don't mind sitting with him for a few minutes."

The elevator dings for you and Shawn's floor. "Alright, but just a few minutes. I don't want to make you feel like you need to stay okay?"

"Yes ma'am," he says with a smile as he follows you to your door.

_____________________

A few minutes turned into two hours very quickly.

Shawn took a seat with Milo on the couch and laid back with the small baby on his chest. You didn't notice they were both asleep until you had finished putting away groceries and cleaning up the kitchen, something you rarely got done these days. You walked into the living room, expecting to take Milo and put him in his crib when you found the two passed out with the TV on the news station. Your first instinct was to wake them up, to take Milo and send Shawn on his way, but you stopped yourself. What would a few more minutes hurt? You could clean the bathroom, put on laundry, make your bed. The possibilities of a few more minutes were endless.

Two hours later and you find yourself entirely done with the house work, caught up on laundry and you even got a shower without worrying about Milo crying from the other room. Is it selfish that you wish Shawn could stay longer? You've never had help like this, and he wasn't even doing anything but sleeping.

Shawn stirs, eyes opening slowly, blinking away sleep. He's got his hand over Milo's back, holding him securely to his chest. "Mmm, must have fallen asleep. What's that smell?"

"Smell?" You ask, raising your eyebrows. "I don't smell anything? Did Milo poop?"

Shawn shakes his head. "It's not poop. It smells like...roses? It's so good." He yawns, rubbing his eyes with his free hand.

You touch your damp hair. "I showered? My shampoo is rose water and strawberries."

"It's nice." He shifts, sitting up carefully while supporting Milo. "How long was I asleep?"

"Two hours maybe?" You say sheepishly and he smiles slowly. He's truly beautiful and that smile makes your heart skip.

"Did you get a lot done?" He chuckles and stands up.

"Yes. Is that selfish? I didn't really ask you to stay, and I didn't wake you up but I should have."

Shawn shakes his head. "I don't mind. Seriously, I'm glad I could help. You seemed pretty tense when you were waiting for the elevator."

You reach for Milo and take him into your arms. "I was stressed. It's hard, and his crying lately has been making it harder."

"Well, anything I can do to help, I'm only a knock away."

"Thank you." You rock Milo and he yawns big in his sleep. "I'll keep that in mind."

Shawn rubs the back of his neck. "Right, well, I should go? You've probably gotta change him and put him down for a nap. Well, a longer nap. Anyway, just stop by? I'm home a lot since I work from my laptop mostly so, yeah."

You smile and he sees himself out while you go to lay Milo down in his crib. It's strange, having that giddy feeling for a guy who may be just as interested as well. It's been a long while.

_____________________

You don't ask Shawn for help again. You just can't bring yourself to go bother him, even though he offered. Coming off as the needy single mother next door wasn't attractive. You don't want to ruin what may still be a hint of a chance at more than a casual friendship with Shawn. Hell, you don't even know if he's single. For all you know he could just be being polite with the offer to help with Milo. That's it. He's just being polite.

It's been two weeks since Shawn was over and Milo has been doing a lot better. You see Shawn in the elevator sometimes, and you make polite conversation as always, but you never ask for help or mention your woes with Milo. You refuse to come off as desperate.

Until midnight one night, you wake up and Milo is wailing. It's not a normal cry. He sounds like he's in pain, like the whole world is collapsing around him. It scares you and when you lift him from the crib, he doesn't relent. He screams and cries with such force that his tiny body quakes in your arms. It's enough to make you cry too.

For half an hour you walk around the apartment with Milo. You bounce, rock, pat and massage his neck like Shawn had. Nothing is working. He keeps screaming and screaming. You're ready to break down, put aside your pride and go to Shawn's apartment.

A knock on your door startles you, sending your heart racing. You go and look out the peephole, seeing Shawn standing there in his sleep pants and no shirt. Your stomach sinks. Milo's cries must have woken him up. Great. You feel like a total jerk.

You unlock the deadbolt and turn the knob lock to open the door. Shawn looks tired. He's got red eyes, his hair is a mess, he may be fit as hell, an absolute Adonis of a being, but the dude looks rough.

"I'm so sorry," you say softly, barely audible over Milo's cries.

Shawn doesn't look angry, he doesn't look annoyed. He looks, if anything, concerned and tired. He steps inside and you close the door, waiting for him to say something.

"I-"

Shawn makes grabby motions with his hands. "Give him to me."

"He won't stop. I tried the comfort trick you showed me already."

"Pup," Shawn says quietly but firmly as he takes the baby to his chest and for a moment Milo's screams falter. "You're causing so much grief little man. You are just fine, I promise."

You wrap your arms around yourself, suddenly self conscious of your pajama shorts and a tank top. You've still got some pregnancy tummy going on and it's not your favorite part of yourself right now. "Shawn...you don't have to-"

"I don't, but he needs me."

"W-what?"

Shawn cradles Milo's head as he starts to hiccup, cries dying off. "It's the full moon, he's not old enough to shift, but he wants to. It's like growing pains. He's dealing with a lot right now, even though we can't see it. He needs to know he'll be alright, that he doesn't have to be scared and only another wolf can bring him that comfort."

"O-oh. I didn't know. There's a lot I don't know. I'm not a very good mom I guess." You look down, tears welling up in your eyes and Shawn reaches over, tilting your chin back up to look at him.

"You're doing your best, don't underestimate yourself." He sways with Milo, humming, no, growling softly. "Why haven't you come to ask for help?"

You swallow hard and walk with him over to the couch but neither if you sit down just yet. "I couldn't. I just...couldn't."

"Are you embarrassed?"

You nod, eyes stinging with the tears you are forcing back. "I couldn't ask for help, I feel like such a failure and I really like you, so I don't want to make Milo feel like he's your problem. I don't want to ruin everything but I am and it sucks and I'm a bad mom and I-"

Shawn pulls you against him, his one arm wrapping around your shoulders while he supports Milo on his chest with his other hand. "Hey, no, shh. You are doing great. Milo is alive, he's healthy and loved. You're not a bad mom because you don't know everything. Not a single new mom knows everything and you're definitely having a harder time since Milo isn't even a fully human baby. Don't beat yourself up okay?"

You sniff and nod against his chest. He's so warm and inviting, he smells really good too. "I try so hard."

"I know." He puts a hand in your hair. "And it's okay to ask for help."

"But..."

"No, no buts. I told you I would be there if you needed help."

"But why?"

"Why? Because I like you, I really really like you. I think you're beautiful and smart and funny. You're a friend and I care about you and I care about Milo."

"Oh." You pull away, looking at him. "I guess I didn't really think that you thought of me like that."

Shawn smiles softly. "I've wanted to ask you out since we first met."

"What? No. When I was pregnant? That's weird, isn't it?"

"No? Maybe? I don't know. I just know the first time when we talked in the elevator for a few minutes, I couldn't wait to do it again and again. I seriously never wanted to stop talking with you because you are just so...God, I don't know. You're addictive."

You flush and shake your head, crossing your arms. "I guess this is a good time to admit that I really like you too and I'd absolutely love to go out with you?"

Shawn grins, leaning his head on Milo's. "Can I ask you out?"

"I don't have anyone to babysit."

"We can stay in." He sways back and forth. "We can watch a movie, I'll make dinner, we can get cozy on the couch."

"But Milo?"

"Mmhmm? He'll be there too. I don't mind."

You bite your lip. "When can we have this date?"

"As soon as you like. I'm here."

"What about tonight?"

"At almost two in the morning? Okay. We can put Milo down since he's asleep now I'm sure."

Shawn follows you to the nursery. "Easy big guy," he says as he lays down Milo into the crib and he begins to fuss a little bit.

The two of you leave the door open a crack and Shawn stops you in the hall on your way to the living room.

"Yeah? What?"

"Are you sure you want to stay up? You look exhausted, and I mean this in the sweetest way,  but you need to sleep."

"But are you going to leave then? What if Milo wakes up?"

"I can crash on the couch."

You glance past him into your bedroom. There's a very big, very empty bed in there that has only been slept in on one side. It'd be a shame to waste the whole other side. "I have a king size bed."

"Yeah?"

"And it's really big."

A smile spreads across his face. "Uh huh?"

You bite your lip as you continue. "I think we could both fit?"

"Oh yeah?" He asks, hands going to your waist. "You're just gonna invite me to sleep with you just like that? All I had to do was admit my feelings?"

"Shut up, you make it sound bad like that."

"Hey, I'm down for whatever you're down for. If you want me to stay and sleep in your bed, I'm here. Just say the word."

You run your hand up over his pec to his shoulder. His skin is so soft, he's almost perfect. For a moment you wonder why you never made a move before now. This was so easy, getting what you've always dreamed of just like that. Now all you have to do is say the word and he's yours. It was about time something went right in life. "I want you to stay."

"Yes ma'am." He lifts you up and you stifle a little squeal.

"Shawn!"

"Shh, you'll wake the baby." He smirks and carries you like you weigh nothing and drops you on your bed before crawling onto it beside you.

You get comfortable, snuggling down under the covers and Shawn settles in beside you. "Thanks for staying over, and thanks for helping me with Milo tonight."

Shawn rolls onto his side, propping his head up on his hand. "You're welcome. I hope it can become a regular thing."

"Maybe a very regular thing?"

"I told you, I'm down for whatever."

You grab his hand on the bed beside you. "I guess this is where we start then."

He smiles and threads his finger between yours. "So it is."

End

_____________________

Thank you so much for reading my work! This is just a short piece and an idea I had to get out. I don’t plan on adding anymore and yes, I know it’s sort of reminiscent of Ours but I’ve been in a baby/dad shawn/werewolf mood and this is what came out. So, again thank you for enjoying and I hope to be uploading some more pieces soon. :)    -A

*****Note: none of my works should be posted anywhere outside of my linked accounts. I do not give permission to repost with or without credit to my accounts. Please notify me of any reposted fics.*****

[hargrove-mayfields]

A Stake of Holly in Her Heart Pt. 4

Pt 1.   Pt. 2    Pt. 3

Max reads the message written in the Christmas card over and over until her eyes are crossing, then does it some more.

She’s so caught up on that last part, the signature, “mom.” Her mind just can’t process what she’s reading.

Maria Hargrove was Billy’s mother, a woman who Max had never had the pleasure, or displeasure, depending on who you asked, of meeting, being that she was out of the picture years before Max got involved.

According to her ex husband, she was conceited, selfish, sleazy. Ask her son, and he’d say she was quiet, nervous, loving.

Rumor has it that she just up and disappeared one day, leaving everything behind but a packed suitcase and a stolen debit card. Everything including her ten year old son.

Max had never really gotten the full story, only bits and pieces of the truth, but up to this moment she’d been perfectly content with the explanation that she’d gotten too worn out by Neil’s abuse, and cut out everything that had to do with that life they shared.

The card in her hand and the note inside of it might suggest otherwise.

The retelling of events from the abuser abandoned by his victim and the scorned and forgotten child was something that Max always knew would never be the most accurate, and so she knows her perception of the situation might be wrong, but there was still something that was throwing her off.

For one thing, why would a mother who had deliberately left without her son just write to him like nothing was wrong? She supposes that Billy tried to keep guarded a lot of his personal life, and maybe this wasn’t quite as out of the blue as she thought.

But what bothers her more is that the message seems far too simple, too casual to be addressed to a dead boy. Maybe it is surprising for Maria to have sent anything in the first place, but for it to include such a normal interaction? There’s something there that’s rubbing Max the wrong way.

Thinking back, she realizes she can’t actually remember anybody ever mentioning that they’d called Billy’s mother to break the news, and she knows for a fact that she hadn't seen her face, the one immortalized in the photo of her that Billy always kept in his glove box, anywhere among the few guests that had shown up at his funeral. And then she figures it out;

Maria Hargrove doesn’t know her son is dead.

Max’s knees start to shake, so she lowers herself to sit on the stoop. Words can’t come close to describing how she’s feeling, holding in her hands that handwritten sentiment from an isolated mother to her dead son. Not even the tears that run down her cheeks and are dried by the winter wind can express the grief that that little Christmas card triggers in her heavy heart.

Just knowing that there’s someone out there that might care as much about Billy as she does is such a profound thought in her mind. But is it really the same?

Is there any comparison even able to be drawn between the grieving sister of a misunderstood brother, and the woman who’d knowingly left her child with a monster?

Max’s knee jerk reaction is to say no, that any person who would knowingly abandon another who needed them deserves in no way to be affiliated with her and her heartache, but deep down she knows that isn’t completely true.

Even she’s considered it, running away from Neil and Susan and Hawkins and never looking back, but she’s trapped, by school, by her friends, by a cemetery plot. For Maria to actually go through with it, that must’ve been the hardest decision of her life.

And besides, Billy would had to have already forgiven her if he gave her the Cherry address. There’s no way she would’ve gotten it on her own, they hadn’t even told anybody where they were going before they moved.

The whole thing was a lot more complicated than she’d ever expected.

She doesn’t know how long she sits there contemplating it, bright red tear streaks on her freckled cheeks, before her ride eventually shows up, and Max realizes that now more than ever, the last thing she wants is to go to some party.

Not even the idea of being around her loving friends seemed like too attractive an alternative right now, not since she’d stumbled across Billy’s Christmas card, but the way she saw it, she didn’t have a choice.

Bailing now meant she’d have to go back inside and face her parents after she’d already made them angry today, which would do nothing but prove Neil right. She could already imagine the smug look on his stupid drunken face, and so, despite her resignations, she stands to make her way towards the car.

Carefully, she slides the card back into its envelope and puts it into her jacket pocket, or rather the pocket of Billy’s jacket that she saved from being thrown out when they cleaned out his room.

Up until now, she’d been telling herself she only wore it because it was warm, but today she'd done enough reflecting to be able to admit that, more than any other excuse she might make for the sake of appearances, she just missed her brother.

The walk down the sidewalk to Steve Harrington's BMW waiting for her at the curb feels very much like a walk of shame.

Maria’s card burning a hole in her pocket, Max tries to focus on the crunch of ice melt under her boots, the wind whipping the branches of the bare ginkgo trees at the edge of their property, anything at all that might take her mind off the lump in her throat.

When she yanks the door open, she knows it’s a little too hard for an expensive car that isn’t hers, but she slumps down into the passenger seat anyways.

Steve makes a face, she assumes because he’s going to call her on not going for the backseat when they’re supposed to be picking up Dustin too, but then he just keeps staring at her.

Max scowls, “Are you going to take me to the party or what?”

He clears his throat and looks away. “Yeah I just, uh, wanted to ask, you know, if-if you were okay.”

“What do you think?” She spits.

Even though she’s pretty sure he wasn’t asking about the abuse, only curious as to how she’s coping with her brother's death rather than how she’s holding up against Neil’s temper, she tugs her sleeve down anyways, just in case he saw the bruises.

Of course Steve catches it, his eyes flickering down to the denim cuffs pulled over her hands and softening to show something like pity, before he says, “Sorry, I wasn’t-“

But Max doesn’t want his pity, so she shuts him down, clear exhaustion in her tear-thick voice, “Please, just drive.”

Most people would be happy to know there was someone in their corner, but the longer she’s alone in that house, the more others' empathy has come to make her feel smothered.

Because a thousand empty “sorry”s and condolences without feeling wouldn’t change a thing, wouldn’t make the bruises and the man who put them there go away or bring her brother back, they only piled up expectations on her to get better for their sake, so they didn’t have to watch her be all depressing anymore.

For that reason, it felt sort of insulting to her to have others showering her in pointless pity.

“Right, yeah, of course.” He says, but his gaze lingers again on Max’s face for a moment, his eyebrows furrowing in thought as he turns away to start the car.

She rolls her eyes and leans back in her seat, hoping to show him that now is just really not the time for a therapy session from her babysitter.

Max’s subconscious must have disagreed, or maybe the concern on Steve’s face just seemed genuine enough that she buys it, because she feels the tears coming again.

It’s something that feels so incredibly shameful, to turn her head and stare out the window so Steve Harrington can’t see her crying, to even be crying again for what felt like the hundredth time today, but she just can’t stop herself.

She tries to cheer herself up by remembering that she is currently on her way to her friend's house, and that she would soon be celebrating and having fun with the people who care about her, because Christmas is not supposed to feel like this.

But knowing that when all of it was over, Billy won’t be the one there to pick her up in his Camaro, and that she’ll be dropped off back at a home where she isn’t safe, and where they’ll pretend her brother never even existed, the joy of the holiday is drained away entirely.

Her shoulders shake as she stifles her sobs, and there’s no hiding the few sniffles and gasps she can’t hold back. It’s humiliating, especially because she can feel Steve glancing over at her every now and again.

Were she not sure that the moment she opens her mouth she’s going to start ugly sobbing and betray her barely there dignity, she would’ve told him to mind his own. Instead, she just keeps her mouth shut and stares out the window, hoping he’ll leave her alone.

They’re a few minutes away from Dustin’s house when Steve sighs and suddenly makes a dead stop, pulling over against the curb. She looks over at him, and notices his eyes shining in a way that was probably not because of the heater being turned up too high.

“What are you doing?”

He lets his hands drop from the wheel, and turns in his seat to look at Max. “Do you even want to go to this party?”

She doesn’t really know how exactly she’s supposed to answer that. There isn’t time to explain the nuanced version, the internal debate she’s holding between friends or family, invasions of her privacy or a slap to the face, so she settles on, “I don’t know.”

“Then let’s ditch. My friends and I used to go down to Benny’s on Christmas for the pie, we should go.” Steve says, his voice wavering, just a little.

The implication of skipping out on the party to go out with a boy her brothers age, alone, mind you, when he’d already been accused once of being sweet on her, (the assumption was baseless and came from a panicking and very confused Billy, but still) is enough to make Max’s heart drop into her stomach with dread.

There must be a look on her face to match that feeling in her chest, because he specifies, “I promise it’s not weird or anything I just- you shouldn't have to be around all that right now.”

But she’s on the defensive now, and she crosses her arms and says, in her meanest tone of voice she can muster, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just that you and I both know they’re going to be nosy.” Judging from the concentration on his face, he knows he has to earn her trust back, and calculates his next words very carefully. “Wouldn’t want them asking any questions about your arm.”

In a way, that only does the opposite by making him seem suspicious, but her interest is piqued. He knows something, and he wants to talk about it without drawing the attention of everyone that’ll be at the Wheeler’s. That doesn’t automatically equal him being a creep, right?

Not when she’s got so much that she doesn’t want them to know either.

Turning it over in her head, she makes the decision that she's got enough that she doesn’t have to bolt, but she’ll still be wary. She's well aware that she has a problem with being too trusting, for years she’d thought Neil wasn’t that bad of a person, but she’s pretty sure Steve’s a little more open about his baggage, and her judge of character isn’t that bad once she gets familiar with somebody.

So she agrees in her own way, looking over to Steve and asking him, “What about Dustin?”

“He’ll be fine, dude. He’s like, super tough.” Steve mocks Mikes tone from when Mike had said the same thing earlier, having overheard through his own walkie that he always left on in case of emergency and putting lots of effort into his stupid teenage boy impression.

For the first time that morning she feels something other than the sting of despair, a small bubble of laughter from her throat and a smile finding its way onto her face as she mumbles, “Whatever.”

Read also on ao3!

[pro-bee]

“Ziva, sometimes people do the wrong things for the right reasons.” “People always think their own reasons are right. Especially parents.” “Yeah, they got perspective.” “Parents don’t make mistakes!”  “Yeah.” “My mother never told me what kind of a man my father was. Perhaps she thought I was not strong enough to handle it.” “Nah, she was just being a mom.” “How do you know?” “Perspective.” “Are you lonely Gibbs?” “You’re never alone when you have kids. ‘Night, kid.”

God, this is one of my favourite scenes of the series, and I think recent developments give it new depth because this conversation has kind of come full circle.

I love it because this moment, right here, is the Ziva-Gibbs relationship in a nutshell. 

[very long post with lots of feelings under the cut]

You’ve got Ziva frustrated at the tangled webs people weave to protect their families, even when it ultimately ends up unraveling one giant mess.

The whole episode, Ziva’s interactions with Mariam are fraught with both compassion and frustration. She feels a sort of kindred spirit in Mariam, trying to survive a conflict with no winner but only losers while escaping with some sort of humanity. Yet she’s also deeply frustrated, because Ziva is tired of this shit and particularly the kind of shit men will put the women in their lives through in the name of honour, and she has trouble seeing why any woman would stand by it when they can clearly see they are in the wrong.

It’s one of the most interesting aspects of Ziva’s character to me, one which I wish they would have explored more in the series, because she’s a bit of a dichotomy. She’s clearly deeply entrenched in the system her father raised her in, but she also is compassionate towards the very people she was probably trained to mistrust, knowing that at the end of the day, they’re all after the same thing -- a peaceful existence where they are free to be who they are. It’s a nuanced view that isn’t always given the chance to breathe in the media. 

But, here she is having just finished a case where someone -- a woman --  has once again covered up for the misdeeds of the men in her life, because she tried to protect them. Which gets her thinking about her own mother, who she now realizes covered up the things Eli did from her as a child so she could grow up with a father she could trust and love, even if we know now and Ziva would learn as a young adult that he did not deserve it. 

We don’t know what happened to her mom (other than Ziva says she was killed, like Tali and Ari), but we can probably infer that she went to her grave trying to protect Ziva from Eli’s exploits.

(Now I’m wondering if Tali and their mom were killed in the same event?)

She’s still reeling from the fallout of Somalia two years earlier, of cutting her father out of her life, of trying to figure out if she’s able to forgive him, look past what he put her through and put other people through, if she can find a place in her heart for him the way Mariam has for her son and husband even if they’ve committed atrocious acts.

And that is where Gibbs comes in: That it doesn’t make Ziva weak that her mom didn’t share any of this with her, one which she had to find out herself the hard way. It’s that her mother loved her so much that she wanted to shield her from that part of their lives, let her keep her innocence for as long as possible so that she could live in a world where her father wasn’t capable of heinous acts in the name of “duty”, because he was still her father and she needed that presence in her life, such as it was.

As we know now, Ziva seems to have grown up thinking that being strength = taking things and moving on. But we know that true strength, one which Mariam shows and arguably Ziva’s mother did, is being able to accept those parts of your life and still maintain your humanity and decency.

Then that flips to the Ziva-Gibbs relationship, because she has a moment of honesty with him, asking if he’s lonely. With Borin he brushes it off, but with Ziva, he offers his truth as he knows it. “You’re never lonely when you have kids.” Is it a delusion he tells himself? Perhaps, but in that very moment, I believe that he believes it, completely. Because he cares for these people, the same ones who have spent the entire week trying to set him up with someone specifically because they care for him and don’t want him to be alone. 

But more than that, when he tells her, “’Night, kid,” he’s not just teasing her about being one of the “office kids” who he looks over and takes under his wing. Coming off the discussion about the parents, he’s also telling her that he’s watching over her here the way her father couldn’t. That he sees her heart, the way she cared for Mariam and her family, and he knows where she belongs. He’s reminding her that she is part of a family here, one that may have had its own share of secrets to protect one another, but caring nonetheless. He’s acknowledging the love he has for them (and her) as much as the love they have (and she has)  for him. 

What really gets me, though, watching this now after season 17, especially these last two episodes, is how much their relationship has come full circle. We went from them being his “kids” to Ziva fighting for “her family” in the season 10 finale, to all the heartache between season 11-16, to the bitterness of season 17, and back to their father-daughter relationship.

Because now that Ziva is a parent herself, she has that perspective that Gibbs is talking about.

She, too, has now done the wrong things for what she believed were the right reasons. 

(Ahem, keeping Tali from Tony. Faking her death. Acting alone to fight terrorists. etc.)

And now, of course, with her perspective, she can see why Gibbs did or didn’t do the things he did, the same way she can probably now better understand why her own mother did what she did when she was a child.

(Except Eli. Eli is still the worst. In this house we drag Eli David.)

She has done things as a mom that have been painful and impossible but necessary, the way Mariam did or Gibbs did or her own parents did.

Yet another thing that I love about it is how it comes around for Gibbs, too. He wasn’t lonely here, he claims, because he had the love of his family, his “kids”. Admittedly I have only seen a few episodes between season 14-16, but the few that I have seen, what has stood out to me is just how lonely and isolated Gibbs has become. (I never saw the Paraguay arc, but I take it that messed him up a lot?)

Arguably, he’d lost his “kids.” Ziva was “dead,” Tony was gone, Abby left, McGee was around but now busy with his own family. (Of the newbies, Ellie is the only team member with a normal family so she doesn’t need the surrogate parent in Gibbs, and Torres, well, I don’t know enough about him but he’s got a whole other kind of personality and doesn’t seem to crave that parental bond the way the others do, and Kasie keeps herself a bit at a distance.)

And, yeah, obviously “kids” grow up and move on, but the episodes I’ve seen, it does seem that Gibbs holds himself back at a distance even further than he used to. (I remember in one of Ellie’s episodes in season 11, Gibbs essentially told her that he went easy on her and held back because every time he looked at her desk all he could see was that Ziva wasn’t there.) He has grown older and colder, at all-time peak aloof, save for rare moments. He just seems sad. (Like, not obviously grief-stricken, just... worn out.)

But then in these latest Ziva episodes, we’ve seen him more animated than we have in a long time. He’s laughed and yelled and choked up and smiled. Because something has finally clicked back into place. And it’s not just that Ziva is back, although that is a huge part of it, but it’s like this black cloud that has hung over them has lifted. The guilt and the grief have dissipated. The missing piece of the puzzle has been put into place. And even if Ziva isn’t actually around full-time, knowing she’s out there is comforting. 

And mending that relationship with her is a big part of that. Because Ziva was “the favourite”. I mean, I know Abby was, technically, but he had different relationships with them. Abby’s was a parent-child one, too, because she too was a girl who’d lost her parents, but she’s so sunny and self-assured that I think theirs was more one of comfort. However, with Ziva, I think he recognized immediately how vulnerable she was, how emotionally fragile she was beneath the bravado, and that she was a girl from a broken home who’d never really been protected, and was now making her way in the world without having learned the safety of her father’s love. Plus you add the shared combat experience between them, and the connection makes even more sense. If you think that she left under the most contentious of circumstances, then (nearly) met a tragic end, you can see why that guilt would have weighed down those memories of Gibbs’ even more than Abby’s, who left of her own volition to follow her own dreams. (lol let’s not get into the off-screen reasons.)

I digress.

What I’m trying to say is that now that Gibbs and Ziva are back in each other’s lives, and have laid their cards on the table and confessed their hurt and in turn forgiven each other for it, they have reached a new stage of their relationship. That they both have new perspective. That Ziva understands what her mother did, but also what Gibbs did. And Gibbs tried to protect Ziva then like he has now, but understands better what that actually means for her and what she needs. (Ah, communication, what a concept.)

So they’ve both done very wrong things for what they thought were their own right reasons.

He won’t be lonely anymore, because he’s got his kids back, and his almost-daughter most of all. He’s not going to let her go anymore than she will him.

And on another note: That puts Ziva’s comment in 17x02 about how she was never alone, even on the run, because she always had her daughter, into relief. Because, yeah, she was alone while Tali was with Tony, but she carried Tali in her memories and in her heart, and that was her guiding light throughout this whole ordeal. So Gibbs was right, you never are alone when you have kids. And Ziva will never be alone ever again.

[sourwolfstories]

Hey! Can you rec some sterek soulmate! Fics pls? Thank you so much

Marked by Verya

The name of a person’s soulmate appears on their skin, in that person’s handwriting, at the age of twenty. Derek has been wondering for the past several years, what kind of name is Mieczyslaw?

Body Language by LadyMerlin

In an alternate universe, soulmates exist, and they can communicate with each other by writing on their own skin.

The catch? No one knows their soulmates’ name. It could literally be anyone under the sun, and Stiles just doesn’t have that kind of patience.

Ink Me by AsagiStilinski

Derek is never going to find his soulmate, because there’s no way in hell there exists a man named Mieczyslaw in Beacon Hills

Then Erica hires Stiles

Beat by Kalira

Derek’s heartsong isn’t quite normal, but he’s always loved the drumming beat that winds through his dreams. He didn’t expect to find that its origin, his other half, has been waiting right in front of him.

Accidents Happen by pyrrhical (anoyo)

Settling a soul bond was exactly as romantic as the movies made it seem: a simple kiss.

As it so happened, CPR worked, too.

Fate Thinks It’s Funny by AsagiStilinski

In a world where everyone has their soulmate’s first words to them printed on their wrists, Derek and Stiles end up with some of the worst: “Oh God please help” and “Derek” respectively

To be fair, their first meeting is almost as ridiculous as it sounds like it would be

Take My Mind, Take My Pain by LessonsFromMoths

Soulmate AU where you have a black stain where your soulmate is supposed to touch you for the first time and it turns to millions of colors once they do.Stiles was born with a very visible black palm on his cheek.

Three Marks by sanam

“And then there was pain again, but this time it was in only three places—his arm, below his clavicle, and next to his heart, all on the left side. It felt like the skin was being sliced apart, ripped open, flayed off—And suddenly it was done.Derek looked across the room and saw the boy on the floor, looking about as bad as Derek felt.”

Derek and Stiles learn that bonding is probably best done with ridiculous amounts of video games and maybe a little bit of time.

In Name Only by Cobrilee

In a world where no one finds out who their soulmate is until after they get married, Stiles concocts the perfect scheme: marry his long-time client, Derek Hale…

You know. Just to find out who he should be marrying.

There’s no way this could go wrong.

Yeah, Pass The Salt, Stiles by CallieB

Yeah, pass the salt, Stiles.

They’re not particularly inspiring words. Not like the long stream of goo spilling over Scotty’s arm. But somewhere, Stiles’ soulmate is out there, waiting to say them to him.

If only he could stop thinking about the mysterious hot stranger he met in the woods.

A Second Chance at First Impressions by Cobrilee

Derek grew up with the world’s most embarrassing soulmark, which is honestly not the best first impression his soulmate could make. Then he meets the guy, and all of a sudden the soulmark doesn’t matter quite so much after all.

spice up your life! by callunavulgari

“I said,” the girl drawls, setting her elbow down in a saucer of ketchup and grimacing. “That this whole soulmate thing is fucking stupid. You’re supposed to find someone based off of the music they’re listening to? How would you even know what was really stuck in your head and what was in theirs? It’s complete shit.”

Derek, who has had everything from Dancing Queen to the Barney theme song stuck in his head all night, winces, and says abruptly, “I think my soulmate is in middle school.”

Secondhand Soulmate by AnnoyinglyCute, Inell

Not always, not even most of the time, but sometimes – 24% of the time, statistically speaking – people meet their soulmates and live happily ever after.

THIS isn’t that story.

This is the story of Stiles Stilinski, whose soulmate died before he was born. This is the story of all the sorrows and heartache Stiles experienced, all the bullying and oppression from those who should know better but didn’t. This is also the story of the friendships Stiles made along the way, of the battles he fought – and won – and the love that endured through it all.

I Was Present While You Were Unconscious by CharWright5

Stiles had often thought about how he’d meet his soul mate, the literal muscular man of his dreams. He just didn’t ever imagine finding him on Facebook where a friend had shared a news article about a werewolf John Doe in a coma after a car wreck four hours out of town. And he also didn’t expect to bond and fall in love with the guy’s family before ever saying two words to him out loud.

Written in the Stars by Quixoticity

Derek Hale is a lucky guy. He’s got a great family, good friends, and a fulfilling job as a tattoo artist.

He’s also one of the twenty-five per cent of the population born with a soul mark.

He likes his life, but he’s waiting for his soul-match. The odds of meeting them aren’t great but hey, Derek’s a lucky guy. He has faith.

He can’t believe how good his luck really is when one day his soul-match wanders right into his studio, all long limbs and copper eyes. There’s just one problem: Stiles is there to get his soul mark covered up. Permanently.

94%, Dude by eeyore9990

The guy was really too young for the leather daddy aesthetic, but with the leather and the more-beard-than stubble and the eyebrows… Yeah, he was kinda working the hot grumpy leather daddy biker gang leader look.

And Stiles liked it.

***

For the prompt: Sterek soul mark fic wherein marks never match, they just line up perfectly to be a shape.

Marks and Mics by DLanaDHZ

Hale siblings Derek and Laura have been hired to run security for Stiles Stilinski’s music tour. Business as usual, except someone is trying really hard to prove they’re incapable and hurt Stiles. Derek finds himself curious about Stiles’ bitter attitude and a strange illness that plagues the singer. And on top of that, Derek’s soulmate remains elusive.

Worth Waiting For by yodasyoyo

Stiles slumps further in his desk chair, and stares disconsolately out of his bedroom window. Perhaps he should be celebrating. After all, this afternoon a soulmark appeared on his wrist revealing the name of his soulmate.

He has a soulmate.

Fuck. He scrubs one hand across his face.

This is a disaster.

Covered in Fur and (Your) Words by OverMyFreckledBody

People that said that the words on your skin - the first ones from your soulmate - didn’t matter or affect your life were big fat liars. Stiles is one hundred percent sure he wouldn’t have started creating costumes if it weren’t for the words What the hell kind of costume is that? on his arm. He’s also sure that if he never got into the hobby, he would never have met the man who said them.

Model Material by dobrien

Prompt: Soulmates AU where any tattoos one half of the soulmate pairing get show up on the other person’s body. Can be taken in any direction the author wants but no suicide etc.Model/Soulmate AU: Stiles finds out who his soulmate is and he’s willing to do what it takes to meet them, even if that means becoming a model for Alpha Fashion Magazine.

The Possibility of Silence and the Reality of Sound by crossroadswrite

Derek grew up knowing that soulmates are something to be cherished, so when he got a voice in his head, childish thoughts and flashes of color and objects, he’d excitedly jumped on his mother’s bed to tell her. She had smiled, ruffled his hair and told him how she was proud of him, even though Derek hadn’t really done anything.

I’m Lost In You by matildajones

He knows he should move but a part of him still feels paralyzed. He has clear feelings of not being able to move his body, of not being able to even blink.

“Oh my god,” Stiles says, and he clambers to his feet, feeling dizzy. He easily finds a mirror in the room and then the most gorgeous eyes stare back at him. They’re a sea-green instead of the normal brown that he’s used to.

He’s looking at his soulmate.

–

Stiles wakes up in his soulmate’s body, on his twenty-second birthday, with blurry memories of the past year. Derek doesn’t wake up at all.

There’s a cup with his name on it by hellodickspeight

The sight before him is breathtaking. Wide opened whiskey eyes searching above his head, pink lips slightly parted, tongue wetting them as he considers his choice, messy brown hair sticking in every direction, moles dotting a pale skin, Derek can’t wait to ask for his name.

A soulmate AU where people have the first name of their soulmates written on their body.

Of Soulmates, Pseudonyms and Misunderstandings by halcyon1993

Ever since he asked his mother one evening why she had his dad’s name tattooed on the inside of her left wrist, Derek has dreamed of finding his soulmate. There’s only one problem—the name that appears on his wrist on his eighteenth birthday is something he can’t even read.

Soul-Mark by PaigeRhiann

His wolf purrs happily because it has taken eighteen years and getting his family killed to finally discover the name of his promised. The person he’s destined to be with. Or, as Werewolves call it – Mate.

“Genim S.” He repeats

“That’s a really fucking weird name” Laura snorts, turning back to the movie.

“Yeah, it is” he nods.

Connected by readridinghood

After the death of his wife, Stiles finds himself left alone with their three children, struggling to keep from being sucked into a void of grief and despair that her death left him with. Knowing his children are safe in the pack’s arms under Derek’s watchful eyes, he struggles to regain his footing. What do you do when the world keeps tumbling over you and what you’ve thought of as fact no longer holds true? As the world comes back into focus, so does the love for Derek he thought he’d long since conquered and now with his eyes open, what he thought was the end of him, is only a new beginning.A decade after he fell in love with Stiles, countless days of keeping himself restrained while building a friendship with him, Derek finds out with absolute certainty that Stiles is his mate. You only mate once in your life, so how is it that Stiles was mated to Sophia, his wife and mother of his three children, the woman he is grieving the loss of at the same moment that Derek makes his discovery.

An Unpredictable Amount of Turtles by skoosiepants

Stiles says, “I have a five year plan. A five year plan to popularity that will tank the minute I meet this guy.”

“I feel like you’re exaggerating,” Scott says, but Scott has a katana-wielding badass waiting for him at the other end of the rainbow, and Stiles has terrariums.

Or—

A soulmate au with turtles and angst.

Soul McMates by distortedreality

The black script magically inked onto Stiles’ skin at birth declares that the first thing he’ll say to his soulmate is “welcome to McDonalds, how may I help you”.

Stiles’ life was clearly destined to be a fucking joke from the start.

Who’s the Loser Now? by Scavenger

Stiles just expects to run and swim, hopefully come at least third place, and then go home. The universe has other plans.

To Leave A Mark by Fanfiction_is_Literature

Stiles Stilinski was born with a strange mark on his skin that resembled a paw print. No one thought much about it since birthmarks weren’t rare, but Stiles started to notice it change as he got older.

Derek Hale was a rare werewolf: the kind with a soulmark on his skin. But as tragedy struck both him and his mate, his interest dwindled in finding him or her. That is, until he started to notice similar changes from his mark in a certain teenaged boy with an alarming amount of moles.

Or: The Soulmate AU where soulmates are rare and get tattoo-looking marks on their skins that describe their mate.

Sparks (Your Touch) by stilesanderek (minxxx)

Stiles has always dreamed of imprinting. Of touching someone for the first time and feeling his world changing right then and there. Of knowing that that person would love you and be with you until the day you die. And yet nothing could have prepared him for with whom he finally imprints.

Or in which when Stiles gets promoted to detective, he gets a new partner, Laura Hale, with whom he instantly becomes best friend and who he thinks is the most perfect person to step into his life, the only problem being that her brother Derek hates his guts.

Countdown by actingup

0000d 00h 00m 37s

He always imagined meeting his soul mate would take forever; that time would slow down and he would see them walking towards him, he would know without a doubt who it was. It might have been someone he’s seen before but never talked to, or it might be a complete stranger that he never would have guessed. He didn’t imagine it in front of about a hundred people, maybe two-hundred, at a Dolphin show.

soulmates tbh by bleep0bleep

“It’s been five months,” Derek says darkly. “Why am I still getting these proposals? You know these are probably all fake marks.”

Five months since the paparazzi had snapped that photo of him with the overzealous fan tugging at his shirt, five months since millions of people on the Internet realized that the birthmark revealed was in fact, the mark, five months Derek was inundated by claims from people who desperately wanted him to believe that they were his soul-mate.

Soulseeker by alisvolatpropiis

Sighing, Stiles reaches for Derek’s big hands, cradled in his broad lap, his skin lighting up even more at Derek’s touch. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, preparing himself to look for Derek’s soulmate. Whoever you are, he thinks, you better be worth him.

[durileaf]

A window into my deepest thought..

Welcome to ground zero , base camp , day one of the rest of your life without him.

10 years of knowing him and it’s over, I’ve made the decision to end things and walk away because it is the ‘right’ thing to do .

So here is a question for you , why the hell do I feel sick to my stomach ? Why the hell do I have the biggest feeling of regret hanging over me ? If this is the ‘right’ thing to do why do I feel the so familiar sting of grief and pain welling up inside me ?


I convinced myself that it needed to be done , that is was the right thing to do , he has a family , a happy life and any interference from me was wrong . I convinced myself that the constant roundabout we were on was poisonous. … But now it’s actually done, I feel like absolute shit. In fact it feels like someone has taken a red hot poker and plunged it deep into my heart. The only thing I can liken the emotions, pain and anguish I am feeling right now is the moment I found out one of the most precious people in my life had passed on.... yes that is it - It feels exactly like that

He thought the swinging back and forth was me trying to control things and have things my way but I never saw it that way, that thought never crossed my mind…
It’s just anger , rage and pure confusion that is running through my mind and always has been. Is this right or wrong ? Should I be doing this ? Am I normal ? Do I deserve this ? Why do I feel so guilty over my happiness with this ? All the crap from the past resurfacing over and over.


I am fighting a constant battle in my mind between what is right and wrong, the past and trying to move on. The darkness always pulls me back when I make any progress , even though I fight it so hard . It’s all just such a mess and now I have probably made one of the worst decisions of my life and I’ve probably lost one of the people I cared about most in my life.

Damn my fucking morals !!


What is fucking wrong with me ?


And no,  this isn’t fucking self pity shit, I genuinely don’t know why I swing so much.  I know what I want but I just never seemed to be able to move on and now . I never am able to reconcile the fact that we are both happy, both consenting adults - it always comes back to the pangs of guilt and shame I have for him having a partner but me wanting him so badly. I’ve lost that chance for good.

And then there is the flip side of the coin , why do I have to turn into this arrogant monster when I’m upset ? That is not me and I don’t want to be like that. But when I am pushed,  something inside me breaks and I react like an idiot. 


Do I want to say goodbye to him ? Do I want to walk away from this ?

Of course I don’t but I don’t want to be hurt so my walls go up and I say something dumb to push people away or wind them up.


I am so afraid of being hurt that whenever conflict arises , I act like a jerk to protect myself.  But you know what,  it just ends hurting me more.

And the swinging. … well I don’t know exactly but maybe it is because I know what I want and then I go for it and then suddenly the reality of the situation hits me and then the crippling fear hits, the fear that makes you sick to the stomach,  the irrational fucking fear that is the only thing that kept you feeling anything through all the nightmares.  That fear that was the only thing that kept your from going numb and dying inside.


So in that moment when the fear hits, or irrational thoughts fill my mind, I instantly run, it’s a knee jerk reaction that I’m so used to doing that it’s just become the norm.

And then there is the gut wrenching guilt that comes any time I submit but let’s not go there


I need to get over this stupid thing that is literally ruining any chance I have at happiness but everything I have tried has failed.

After everything that happened , I vowed I would never fall in love or let any man close to me on a deep emotional level but I was wrong.

But this is not just any man , it’s him , the one who has captured my heart and my mind. He is not just any man and I’ve fucking blown it .I know there is no coming back from this this time.

I can only hope that he is learning something though.

As I sit here and write this and think about everything , I really am in a horrible position of my own making .

This position is uncomfortable for me—it is showing me some pretty harsh aspects of myself that I struggle accepting.

What have I learned over these past few months? What can I finally admit out loud?

I have a hard time letting people into my inner circle—and I’ve realised that I have run from more things in this life than I have stuck with.

I’ve learned that I am terrified of being left, so

ultimately I try to leave people first.

The reality is, I am scared of letting someone in.

I am scared of showing them the whole inside out clumsy musings of my soul and having them turn away from me for good.

So, I self-protect or self-sabotage, depending upon the viewpoint.

I push them away or run away, so that in the end, I am the one who is responsible for my pain and I can say that no matter what, the choice was mine.

Perhaps that what he means about trying to control things and have them my own way ? I don’t know.

But for some reason, I have been unable to run for good from this man.

No matter what, I always seem to run back to him.

I sometimes hate that I can’t run from him because it means that I don’t have control over a situation where I may end up with my worst fears manifested into reality.

But now I’ve fucked it up beyond repair and I only have myself to blame. I’ve pushed to far and he’s gone .

It hurts so badly to realise that I really have lost him for good.

And so, I sit here my eyes blurry with tears and I am wondering, how did I get here?

For people who come easily to love and relationships and who have a normal life , you’re lucky.

Because mine has been fucked up and hard and now I’m paying for what someone else did to me and that is not fair. I’ve lost one of the people that made me the happiest I’ve ever been because his legacy still burns through my veins.

I have heard it said of love:

“The harder the way, the more worthwhile the journey.”

Well this was worth all the pain and the heartache , I just wish I had not fucked it up.

This time I pushed too hard and the price I have to pay is high .

This story isn’t finished and it will always be that way in my mind. It will always feel undone. I can never shut the door on him mentally or in my heart.

Facing the future without him scares the shit out of me as there is something about this man that I just haven’t experienced before, in my 30 plus years of living and I’ve lost it .

The worst part is, it’s my own fucking doing . I could have had him and I could have happiness but I threw it all away for fear.

I can’t help but think about everything that he and I have been through and I know there is a connection to him that I will never be able to break. I will never be able to erase him from my heart and mind . He will always haunt me.

My stomach turns when I read the messages that we have exchanged lately , I’ve caused him so much pain and I can see that this is my fault , totally and that makes my heart break.

And so I find myself here , at a crossroads of my own making .

Now I am faced with the test of falling back into who I have been or making the choice to step into the person that I have wanted to be all along.

I have the challenge before me not to repeat the same mistakes I have and choose to change and take a risk on being happy .

But now we are walking separate paths in life and I have to accept that .

I have two choices in my life now , either run away and self-protect or to learn from this and let myself be happy.

Deep breaths….

If I could turn back time , I would but I don’t have that option so even though this hurts like hell.

So while it hurts like hell , I make the choice to be happy .

As much as for him as for myself, because this is about me seeing if I am really ready too.

And if I ran, or used another man as a way to forget about him, then I would just be repeating all of my past mistakes.

I’d be repeating all of the ways that I want to change .

So this time, my only choice is to quit the self destructive ways and try to change for the better and hope that maybe, just maybe, it will be different this time.

So , what to do with the money? I don’t know , only time will tell .

But for now , I must be strong and I must begin to rebuild and change myself . I must let him go, I must let him breath . I must be strong .

[mittensmorgul]

8.01, We Need To Talk About Kevin.

and

8.02, What's Up, Tiger Mommy?

Dean's back from his vacation to Purgatory, again completely not processing Cas's decision to stay there. Much the same way Cas had refused to engage with his own guilt in the latter part of s7, Dean is now playing the same game with his own guilt and grief, battling feelings of worthlessness at not having been able to "save" Cas.

And like at the beginning of s7, he's once again lost Cas to Purgatory.

DEAN: Yeah, Cas didn't make it. SAM: What exactly does that mean? DEAN: Something happened to him down there. Things got pretty hairy towards the end, and he... just let go. SAM: So Cas is dead? You saw him die? DEAN: I saw enough. SAM: So, then what, you're not sure? DEAN: [turning back to SAM] I said I saw enough, Sam.

And here we have Dean refusing to face what happened...

Meanwhile we also learn how Sam has effectively been running away from his entire life again.

DEAN: I wasn't dead. [He stands up and walks around SAM.] In fact, I was knee-deep in God's armpit killing monsters, which, I thought, is what we actually do. SAM: Yes, Dean. And far as I knew, what we do is the thing that got every single member of my family killed. I had no one – no one. And for the first time in my life, I was completely alone. And, honestly, I-I didn't exactly have a roadmap. So, yeah, I-I fixed up the Impala, and I just... drove. DEAN: After you looked for me. [SAM says nothing.] Did you look for me, Sam? [SAM looks away.] Good. That's good. Now, we – we... always told each other not to look for each other. That's smart. Good for you. Of course, we always ignored that because of our deep, abiding love for each another, but not this time, right, Sammy? SAM: Look, I'm still the same guy, Dean. DEAN: Well, bully for you. I'm not.

And here we have the upcoming character conflict that will power us through all the rest of s8 (and s9, and s10... and through a good bit of s11) (welcome to Marshmallow Era).

(CROWLEY: Really, Dean, who writes your stuff? A marshmallow?)

DEAN: Nothing. Is that, uh, that how you rationalized taking a year off? People will be okay? SAM: People were okay, Dean. You're okay. DEAN: Wow. SAM: Look, I did what we promised we'd do. I moved on. I lived my life. DEAN: Yeah, no, I'm getting that. SAM: Look, it wasn't like I was... just oblivious. I mean, I read the paper every day. I saw the weird stories… [He sits down on the other bed facing DEAN] …the kind of stuff we used to chase. DEAN: And you said what? "Not my problem"? SAM: Yes. And you know what? The world went on. DEAN: People died, Sam. SAM: People will always die, Dean. Or maybe another hunter took care of it. I don't know, but the point is, for the first time, I realized that it wasn't only up to me to stop it.

Because this is what Sam has always tried to run away from. Only this time, Kevin was the fallout of it. I hate, hate, hate this. But heck, it does provide the drama for a good long time to come... fueling Sam's "penance" and self-sacrifice. Except it's coming from this deeply toxic place that Cas's came from in staying in Purgatory, and that Dean's will come from in taking on the Mark of Cain.

DEAN: Okay, if this kid is right, he's sitting on a bombshell. Hell, he is the bombshell. [SAM looks away.] What? SAM: That. I mean, there's no way that Kevin's getting out of this intact, is there? DEAN: Well, he's doing pretty well for himself so far. SAM: Yeah, he got out. DEAN: And now he's in it... whether he likes it or not. SAM: So...free will, that's only for you?

Aaaaahhahhhahhahahahahahahahahahaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa >.>

Dear Sam: no. Dean's literally never had free will of his own. He literally gave it up the moment John put you in his arms and told him to run outside as fast as he could and not look back. Or... probably longer. Especially considering they're Chuck's favorite characters...

Does Dean like ANY of this? I mean, he's long ago accepted he's good at it. He's long ago accepted he's not really suited to any other sort of life. And he's long ago accepted that he's the kind of person who just can't sit by knowing that the bad stuff is still happening in the world, when there's a chance he might be able to stop it. He knows he can't just... know about it all, and just assume someone else will fix it, that it's not his problem anymore. Meanwhile, Sam believes (and has ALWAYS believed) that he absolutely could...

And all of this interpersonal crap continues into...

8.03, Heartache.

DEAN: All right, man, look, I get it. You took a year off to do yoga and play the lute, whatever, but I'm back. Okay, we're back, which means that we walk and kill monsters at the same time. We'll find Kevin. But in the meantime, do we ignore stuff like this? Or are innocent people supposed to die so that you can shop for produce?

DEAN: I don't know about you, but this last year has given me a new perspective. SAM: I hear you. Believe me. DEAN: I know where I'm at my best, and that is right here, driving down crazy street next to you. SAM: Makes sense. DEAN: Yes, it does. SAM: Or... maybe you don't need me. I mean, maybe you're at your best hacking and slicing your way through all the world's crap alone, not having to explain yourself to anybody. DEAN: Yeah, that makes sense, seeing as I have so many other brothers I can talk to about this stuff. SAM: Look, I'm not saying I'm bailing on you. I'm just saying make room for the possibility that we want different things. I mean, I want my time to count for something. DEAN: So, what we do doesn't count?

WELL THIS IS A MIXED BAG HERE IN CONTEXT, But in the larger context of the ongoing story, and where we know they go over the next 7 years, this... is tentatively a step in the right direction, despite it coming from a really fucked up toxic source here in the context of this episode.

Sam's spot on with the realization that they both might want different things, but right now Dean's just grateful enough to be alive and back in the real world to even think about what he might WANT, other than to return to the relatively normalcy he'd lost while in Purgatory. And for him, that's hunting on the road with Sam. The dude is NOT asking for a lot here, Sam.

Plus, Dean's already tried Sam's way, of living a normal life and pretending nothing bad exists in the world, and he HATED it, couldn't do it, and wouldn't chose that for himself again. He can't even begin to understand how Sam could pretend the vast majority of his life just didn't happen and go play house with someone as if he was a person (and not a hunter, to use Bobby's harsh metaphor from 7.09).

So therein lies their disconnect. And Sam isn't pushing this agenda just because he sees them havving their own lives, their own goals and interests, as a HEALTHY thing. No, Sam's still choosing that as a reaction, as "running away" from his life. They're nowhere CLOSE to figuring out how to balance their individual wants and needs and desires. They're still on the "all in or all out" mindset of extremes. Which drives so much of their interpersonal drama for the next few years...

DEAN: Wow. Back in business. Got the win. Admit it – feels good, huh? You know, I was thinking about what Randa said about, uh, you know, what it feels like to be a warrior. I get it, man, I do. SAM: I know. I know you do. I don't. Not anymore. Hell, maybe I never did. DEAN: Come on, Sam, don't ruin my buzz, would you? SAM: Dean, listen, when this is over – when we close up shop on Kevin and the tablet – I'm done. I mean that. DEAN: No, you don't. SAM: Dean, the year that I took off, I had something I've never had. A normal life. I mean, I got to see what that felt like. I want that. I had that.

This is Dean's idea of "normal." He understands this life. And Sam feels even more like it's something he's been dragged into against his will over and over again.

What he had was an illusion. I mean, it actually all did happen, but he sees it in this weird idealistic way in his memories, with too-bright lighting, the cinematic equivalent of rose colored glasses. Which we get to see from an outsider's perspective in...

8.04, Bitten.

The couple leaves and MICHAEL or BRIAN’s camera zooms in on SAM and DEAN.

SAM: All right. There is not a case here. DEAN: There is a case here. You're rusty. We just got to dig a little deeper. Come on. DEAN walks towards the IMPALA and after a moment SAM follows him. BRIAN: Dude, it's so crazy. MICHAEL: Is it just me or are you getting a workplace-romance vibe from those two?

>.>

I mean, Dean's right, Sam's rusty, but at least a little of it is the same thing he expressed in 8.03. He doesn't want to "waste time" on these minor cases when they still have the True Mission of finding Kevin, translating the demon tablet, and slamming the gates of Hell forever... which... yiiiikes.

Reminder to anyone who hasn't read everything I've ever written about s8 before, but I still see this as the one time the Winchesters ALMOST pulled something just as horrific as Cas letting all the souls out of Purgatory, but slammed on the brakes at the last second and saving things. Unfortunately Cas was manipulated (again!) by Metatron into doing the same thing to Heaven and dumping the angels onto the Earth. I mean... thank heck Dean didn't let Sam go through with THAT particular act of hubris, right? Because they really were in the wrong trying to mess with the natural order that badly in the first place. And honestly, EVERYTHING they did after that point was cleaning up the messes they ALL made here... including the Mark of Cain and the Darkness... they stumbled into those things from a place of guilt over all this other nonsense... and they're just now FINALLY getting back to the root cause of all of it in 14.20...

but back to this episode... or these four episodes I guess...

MICHAEL: The FBI is trying to kill me. KATE: Shut up! Everybody, shut up, okay? First things first, those guys – those guys aren't FBI, all right? I'm pretty sure that FBI agents don't say "awesome" that much. You know? And – and they definitely don't hunt and kill college kids. MICHAEL: Did – did they say anything else? BRIAN: Dude, they just sat and talked about how they have been apart for a year. You were probably right about that whole office-romance thing. MICHAEL: I'm screwed. I'm screwed. BRIAN: Kate, come on. What are we supposed to do? KATE: Okay, you know what? You guys, you're missing the big picture, okay? They – they don't know about you, Michael. They're looking for whoever, whatever bit you in the first place, the pureblood. That... that gives us some time... to figure it out, you know?

Even random strangers pick up on the creepy codependency vibes.

KATE: I didn't finish Brian's movie to justify what happened. To be totally honest, I'm not really even sure if I understand it at all. I just wanted you to know that – that Michael wasn't always a monster. None of us were. I'm leaving. And you'll never hear from me ever again. Look, I know that there's another way. I can eat animal hearts. [A tear rolls down her face.] I've never hurt anyone. Nobody human, anyway. I didn't choose this. Please... please give me a chance.

Which...

SAM: Look, Kate's right. She hasn't hurt anybody – well, anybody human at least. DEAN: Yeah, she didn't – she didn't choose this. Let's give her a shot. SAM: Seriously? DEAN: Yeah, yeah. SAM: And, look, if Kate pops back up, I mean, if she strays, then no questions asked. [He unplugs the hard drive and laptop on the desk and picks them up.] We do what we got to do and, um, we take her down.

Which is a very different result from such past episodes as 7.03 and 7.13. And hey, progress... At this point in the narrative, every little step into the grey area, away from the absolutes that still rule their lives, counts.

[musicprincess655]

Kazuya hadn’t been to a funeral since his mother’s when he was seven. That had been horrible on its own, but at least he couldn’t remember it very well.

He didn’t think he’d ever be able to forget this one.

It was almost strange how few people were crying. Kazuya knew he was emotionally damaged, had known for a while, but apparently that was a common condition among superheros.

Ryou sat stone faced at the front of the room, staring at the closed casket. Kazuya remembered his mother’s casket being open, so everyone could leave flowers and other small gifts for her to carry into her cremation. He knew better than to ask why Sanada’s was closed.

Haruichi sat beside his brother, and Kazuya could see his small shoulders shaking from the back of the room. He wasn’t crying, though it looked like that was mostly through effort on his part. His bangs hung in his eyes, and he looked even smaller than normal.

Kazuya fidgeted with the hem of a suit jacket he’d only worn a handful of times. His spine hurt from sitting up so straight, but if he slouched over, he could feel his stomach roiling too much.

Maybe he should’ve sat with YJ after all, instead of hiding in the back with his dad. They sat just behind the Kominatos, one solid unit. Haruno and Katsuko both cried openly, neither of them Japanese enough to bother hiding their tears. Jaime kept wiping at his eyes, his jaw tight. Everyone else had their shoulders slumped in grief.

And that was why Kazuya couldn’t join any of them. He had long since realized he was too similar to his father to be built for comforting. He didn’t know what to do with their pain.

He didn’t know what to do with their fear.

That team had had to fight to be here. Kominato Aya had wanted to keep this as a strictly family affair, but she’d been overruled. Kazuya and Kuramochi had insisted on being there for Ryou, and all of YJ had insisted on coming to say goodbye to their leader. Since Ryou and his father were the ones in charge of planning the funeral, they’d allowed it over her protests.

Kuramochi was sitting with the Kominatos at the front, braver than Kazuya was. Ryou was one thing. He and Kazuya had come to an understanding that involved neither of them talking about their feelings. Haruichi was another. If Kazuya didn’t know what to do with the pain of a team that had lost their leader, he definitely didn’t know what to do with the heartache of a boy who had lost his big brother.

Kazuya barely heard any of the prayers the priest offered. Instead, he watched Kuramochi scuffing the ground over and over with his shoe. Speedsters didn’t sit still well. Neither did Kazuya, picking at a seam until he’d pulled out a thread.

Finally, when the priest was finished, everyone was invited up to leave gifts for Sanada in a basket that would go to the crematorium with his casket. The rest was just for the Kominatos, and not even Kuramochi had been invited.

Kazuya left one of the flowers from a vase by the casket, but he noticed YJ leaving more personal gifts. Takako left what looked like a good luck charm. Wakana, Seto, and Bart all left a piece of candy. Katsuko left a woven friendship bracelet.

Then came the condolences, the only part of Kazuya’s mother’s funeral he remembered well. He’d hated it. He’d had to stand there as his relatives filed out, offering him words that couldn’t bring his mother back, and pretend to be grateful for them.

When it was his turn, all he offered Ryou was a nod. Ryou wouldn’t accept pity, and he hated to be coddled. Kazuya had been friends with him long enough to know that. All he’d want would be to know he still had the support of his team. He’d work through this in his own way.

Haruichi, though...Haruichi wasn’t Ryou, and he looked so young, so close to his breaking point. Kazuya offered him a gentle fist bump to his shoulder.

Twelve was too young to lose a big brother.

Once everyone had cleared out and the casket had been loaded into a hearse, the Kominatos vanished. YJ had reformed into one group of mourning, which just left Kazuya with Kuramochi.

“I don’t know if he’s getting over this,” Kuramochi said.

“His brother is dead,” Kazuya said. “There’s no getting over it. Sanada isn’t coming back.”

“No, I mean…” Kuramochi trailed off in frustration. “It’s normal to grieve. It’s normal to miss someone. He’s not doing that.”

“Ryou has never done things the normal way,” Kazuya said, but he couldn’t make it sound snarky enough. Kuramochi was the closest person to Ryou. If he thought there was a reason to worry… “You don’t think something’s really wrong, do you?”

“Not yet,” Kuramochi shook his head. “Maybe he just needs time. I need time.”

Kazuya could relate to that.

“What do you think’s gonna happen to Young Justice?” Kazuya asked. “Is Batman gonna disband them?”

“I hope not,” Kuramochi said. “She might not have to, though. I’m pretty sure Okumura isn’t staying, but he was only there for a few months. And I know Takako’s father wants to pull her off the team. Bart told me Barry wants him to stay in America until this all blows over. There might not be a team left after this.”

“It probably depends on how soon a new leader can take over,” Kazuya said.

“Katsuko, right?” Kuramochi said. “She was the first one to join after Sanada.”

“Maybe,” Kazuya said. He had his doubts. “Wakana would be a good choice, too.”

“I guess I can’t blame Barry for wanting to pull Bart,” Kuramochi sighed. “What we do is dangerous, but it’s been a while since we lost anyone. We’ve never lost someone from the younger teams. Sanada was only fifteen.”

And that was just it, wasn’t it?

Kazuya looked over at YJ. Takako had pulled Haruno and Katsuko into a hug, and Wakana was patting Haruno’s shoulder. Bart looked like it would only take one small push, and he’d be in the middle of the group hug too. They weren’t the Titans, but they had grown into their own team, and Kazuya knew that sometimes a team was better than a family.

On the edge of the group, Okumura looked like he’d rather be anywhere else. It was probably only Seto’s influence that had even kept him here this long. Kuramochi was right, he probably wouldn’t stay even if YJ managed to get back on its feet.

Kazuya could understand that. In a weird way, sometimes it was easier to grieve if there was no one else there to do it with you. Easier, but in his experience, not better.

Only time would tell if YJ would survive. Kazuya thought it was about fifty-fifty for right now. It would all depend on whether a leader could step in and bring them back together. Right now, they were leaderless, and all their mentors were pulling them back in, terrified of the loss. They were lost, and grieving, and scared. Maybe they could bounce back, maybe not.

All they could do was wait and see.

[acoolemocucumber]

s6 relationship analysis (lance's character, angst, and faith in lgbt rep)

okay, so here's my take on s6.

i feel really odd? after watching it, i felt unbelievably sad and heartbroken, but not in a satisfying way. usually i love dramatic seasons that make me feel, but this was more of a... unfinished, prolonged grief that i felt.

i can say that this season was alright. it definitely has a lot of things i disliked and wish would improve, but overall animation and plot was... good/okay...

i'm going to skip over plot details and nitpicky little problems. i'm going to talk about relationships, because i'm definitely smarter in that area than analyzing the plot.

okay, first, allura and lotor.

in the first episode, you really can tell that they've gotten closer.

as the season progresses, they really find solace in each other and honestly, i think lotor really did love allura. but... not in the right way, not the way anybody should if they want to do it correctly. he didn't love her and put her over his morals and plan. he put his ambition over her. and as you know, he tried to kill her and the rest of her team.

but you can tell that she was dear to him for a while. unless i'm wrong and it was all an act.

i feel bad for allura. but i also feel bad for lotor. he had a rough childhood which made it tragic to see him follow his father's footsteps. that's all i have to say about it.

keith and shiro.

their relationship was a main part of this season and it'd be silly to ignore it. the fight scene between them almost got me crying. when keith said "you're my brother, i love you," it really made me feel for him. all of the flashbacks for keith were well-done.

although, i didn't expect there to be so many fake shiros in those cloning pods. it almost felt like it was too much of a fantasy, too much of a reach? it's a kids' show, i get it, but it seemed too unrealistic.

and just like pidge in s4, keith went by himself and after his long battle there weren't any questions about what happened. it felt,, unseen. it felt like it should've been touched on at least a little bit.

it was quite a big point for the plot, so to not even talk about it?

that was probably one of the biggest issues this season.

there were so many dramatic moments in this season, but once they were over, they weren't brought up again by the characters. not just this season, but really the whole show

let me give some examples:

lance sacrificing himself for coran. pidge finding matt's grave. shiro and sendak; shiro's ptsd (rarely spoken about to anyone). keith and shiro at the bom base.

now this season:

keith's battle between him and shiro. lance sacrificing himself for allura. lance being upset over allura. lance being made fun of by hunk and pidge. lance crying over shiro.

okay, you see why i'm centering around lance?

well, that's who i'm talking about next. and honestly, i'm not just going to choose a relationship between him and another character, for one reason.

whenever he's with another character, their problems are always put first. (there are exceptions, which only go back to s3, with lance seeking out keith.)

whenever he's with another character, their emotional distress is almost always put above his own.

this might be so for two reasons.

one, lazy writing. could be true.

two, that's just who lance is. we all know he's a very empathetic person, he naturally puts others' lives above his own. this is shown when he sacrifices himself to save coran and allura.

or, it's a mix of both, which is what i'm expecting honestly.

okay, well, establishing that...

lance this season was heartbroken.

if the voltron directors wanted to make me feel utterly sad and hopeless, then they did it.

not in a good way though. normally i love when characters are put through hardships, and they grow from it, but this... this was so much different.

for the ENTIRE SHOW, lance's self esteem has been lowering. i went back to watch some of the earlier episodes, and you can go back to season 2 to see where it really begins, but you can see how it keeps getting worse as time goes on.

it was so hard to watch as i continued on with each season. since lance is my favorite character, it made it even harder.

he loses a bit of his enthusiasm, and although he doesn't become a lifeless shell of a human, he is not the same.

the hardest thing about this isn't that his self esteem is low and he's depressed, it's the lack of concern from most of the team. it's the lack of addressing his issues in a healthy way.

as we watch the show, we are the only ones who know the extent of lance's insecurities. he always deals with it when he's away from the team, and i assume this is so because he's afraid the team will dislike him, and he will break his shell of bravado and confidence he's made.

EVEN SO, when the team IS around him, they never say anything. this fucking pisses me off.

as someone who has experienced similar things, being ignored and feelings made out to be less important than others, i really, really sympathize with lance. he's had signs that the team didn't pick up on, unlike other characters.

allura feeling sad? SOMEBODY is going to comfort her. pidge feeling sad? count on someone comforting her. shiro? keith?

they all had somebody to go to.

and even when lance is obviously hurting, right in front of the team, nobody goes to him. this is mostly after keith leaves.

hunk, his BEST FRIEND, and pidge, a close friend as well, only made him feel worse by mocking and making light of his pain.

his feelings are thrown under a rug, and then stepped on.

hell, even the mice made him sad by not listening to him. what the fuck?

and then there's allura and lotor.

i'm really not one to get super emotional during romances, but when lance was in the picture, or rather, excluded from the picture, i started to lose it.

he called himself a third wheel, and that he's "just a boy from cuba," and jesus christ, guys, he called himself PATHETIC.

and after all of the heartache he was put through, HE COMFORTS ALLURA.

after being essentially ignored by lotor and allura, sacrificing himself for allura and it never being brought up again, he comforts the person who was giving him the most sadness. lance literally DIED and was brought back to life.

i'm not bashing allura, but i wish she'd go to lance about his problems, rather than focusing on her own and hoping lance would reassure her.

lance didn't deserve that. he didn't fucking deserve that. he'd been heartbroken, ignored, depressed, and excluded and yet...

christ, after allura went to lance, the exact thought i had when watching her hug him and seeing his sad expression was "he's her second choice." he was made to feel like he was below lotor, like if lotor was still there, allura wouldn't have ever given him a chance. that must really fucking hurt to realize.

allura knew, after 6 seasons. finally SOMEONE knew about his low self-worth issues, and yet she ran into his arms crying about her insecurities. she knew but still ended up being the one comforted.

she should've at least talked about it to him, mentioned it, gotten it into the air that she wasn't in love with him, instead of giving him this... hope, only to be disappointed and heartbroken in the end. that's a really distressing situation, that i've also experienced, to keep getting your hopes up and having someone do it over and over until you're really tired.

i'm positive allura only sees lance as a close friend. the writers, if they aren't pulling our legs, set up their relationship so that it wouldn't make sense to put them together romantically. and right after lotor's betrayl, allura wouldn't naturally want another lover. that doesn't happen unless someone wants to distract themselves from an emotional issue, and usually it just,, doesn't happen at all. it doesn't make any sense to choose that in the story.

most of yall probably know what i'm leading up to.

yeah, lance and keith's relationship.

keith has gotten so much development, and lance has,, much less. they both have grown so much, but i really just want an episode with lance as the "main character." like keith. like keith and shiro battling, and keith and krolia having flashbacks.

this isn't to say lance hasn't gotten a lot of screentime, it's more noting that every time he really has a serious episode, he's sad and depressed. it's not healthy, it's just him being isolated and lonely. it's not as much of him growing, it's more of him becoming more and more insecure and excluded.

i just want him to be happy.

hopefully when they go back to earth, lance will be the one to step into the spotlight for a much longer time. i want him to resolve his issues, and i really just,, want lance to fall in love. i think he deserves to fall in love, after everything.

if you think lance and keith are endgame, i agree with you. there's so much evidence for it, which is a totally different post for a different time.

i really just want somebody to treat lance right for once? i want keith to give him a break, let him relax, reassure him, HUG HIM, let him talk about his feelings so he doesn't bottle them up, and just love him,,?

maybe i'm being dramatic but i see so much realism in lance as a character, his emotions, his distress; he's so realistic in that his feelings really seem the most relatable out of all of the characters in the show.

i just feel so bad for him,,? he said, while allura hugged him, that he was a person who "made a million mistakes." he is way harder on himself than most of the paladins, i think. lance isn't a bad person, but he thinks he could do better, when he's already kind to others. he cried over shiro because he BLAMED HIMSELF. imagine having someone's death on your shoulders, and just breaking down.

if yall know korra, then you know that this show is most likely going to do something similar to how korra's relationships in the love triangle went. although it is way more different because allura doesn't reciprocate lance's feelings unlike korra and her first boyfriend. i think lance is going to find something he loves more in keith than in allura. i think they're going to keep progressing in that keith really listens to lance, unlike the other members of the team.

i think in the last season of voltron, lance and keith are going to be together. seriously, there's wayyy too much evidence for it not to happen. if they say no queerbait, then klance is the only slowburn romance we can count on. lance is going to fall in love, that is confirmed, but if you look at allura... she doesn't see him romantically, although they do share a very close bond now. allura and lance's relationship is not slowburn. it's a crush that was already established at the beginning of the series. that isn't how slowburns normally start. lance and keith went from rivals, to friends, to... a rather hard to determine admiration. lance was visibly happy when keith was on screen. it was also hinted that lance's sexuality arc is an undertone to s6, and it might be a reach but, the scene with hunk saying something about lance and allura... lance blushed when he mixed up hunk and allura. he seems very distraught about it, and has been repressing it for a while. after moving on from allura, he's going to realize his feelings.

as a bi person, my experiences have been similar. i dated the opposite sex, and it took me a long time to get over, but afterwards i realized my sexuality. it's almost like the person i dated, since they were straight, was blocking out my growth as a person and me realizing my orientation.

i'm sure this is what is happening for lance. i was in denial for a while when thinking about the same sex, and was trying to repress it by being defensive when anything "gay" was rolled my way. it's common to try to hide it, and to be unsure when you're crushing on the opposite sex. normally, you'd think you're straight until you have a chance to look around and realize who you are.

i have hope that klance is going to happen.

just,, remember that thing lauren montgomery drew with lance holding a lgbt sign. don't doubt it. have faith, guys. i'm positive we're going to get representation. that's like, the one thing i'm sure about this show. yeah, it has a lot of problems that make me upset, but next season is an odd number so if i rely on the theory that all odd seasons are better then I'VE GOT HOPE.

so, this thing is almost over, and the only way to ease my pain is to write it out. if you disagree with some things, cool. just don't attack me. if you agree, cool, suffer and hope along with me.

tl;dr - this season was okay, i have a lot of issues that revolve around lance's mental health. i want him to be happy. lgbt rep is going to happen.

if u read all this, DAMN. good for u.

✌️

[whisperingtothewinds]

Being Something Like Ace at Hogwarts

In honor of Pride Month

 “It’s ok; you will find the right guy some day.”

They are the words my mom says to my eldest sister Chelsae after she returns from Hogwarts sans her boyfriend of two years. She’s a seventh year, and now off to adventures as a junior clerk in Wizengamot Administration Services, a sub-division of  Department of Magical Law Enforcement. She wants to put bad guys away in Azkaban someday. I’m pretty sure she’s the most brilliant witch to Charm the planet.

I’m 10, not even on my way to Hogwarts yet. But I don’t forget what my mom has said; I may not want the guy right now (because goodness knows he’d be in the way of my reading time, just like my family), but someday, sure. It’s an easy decision; That’s a problem for future-me.

 ------------------------------------------------------

I’m a first year, sorted to Rowena’s house several months earlier. I fit in perfectly with the other first years, and it feels great.

My older brother, Taylor, has been a Hufflepuff for four years now, and my middle sister is a Gryffindor like our eldest and our dad, though Elizabeth’s only a second year. It’s bizarre seeing them here at school, and the age difference between us seems to much larger here than it is at home.

Taylor is into building things and spending time with his friends. He’s got a girlfriend and they are great together, but he’s so much older than me that I just shrug and think: Ehhh, future-me will get into that later.

Elizabeth goes googly-eyed whenever my prefect walks by. She denies it, but I’ve known her forever and it’s not really effective for her to lie to me. I roll my eyes; Chester-the-prefect took points last week when I came back from the library late. What a dick. When I try to explain this to my sister, she gives me that look that says I’m the idiot before wrinkling her nose and saying, “You’re too young to understand. You’ll get it someday. Also, maybe? Don’t spend so much time in the library. Go outside. See the sun occasionally. Play with your friends.”

Whatever. I ignore her. There are far more interesting things to pay attention to right now. I’ve got a library and books and reading nooks aplenty.

Elizabeth and Taylor keep bugging me to spend more times with friends, but Mom has always said I’m shy, so I think it’s fine that I’ve only befriended the girls in my dorm. I can always make more friends in the future.

  ------------------------------------------------------

I’m a third year, and things are a bit different. I fit in with the others, except maybe a little, but no one’s noticed and I think it’s alright.

The thing is, my friends have started noticing boys. We’re rather close, the four of us girls, but I don’t really get it, when they talk about how cute that one Slytherin is or how handsome our seeker is. So for right now, I just sort of nod and smile. How do you even tell if someone is attractive? I don’t get it.

I get a bit nervous at one point. Nothings better than talking to Mom, but that’s not an option while I’m at schoole, so I go over to Hufflepuff and ask one of the firsties to get Ramsey, my first-year youngest sibling. My little brother has always been the one I’ve been closest to, since we share this love of books and are rather curious about pretty much anything. He was my favorite playmate of my four siblings when I was younger.

(His sorting was rather a surprise really. We all expected him to join me. But he and Taylor, who are different as night and day, do share one thing rather strongly; they are the most loyal of boys, definitely taking after Mom who was also a ‘Puff. You can’t imagine a group who wouldn’t walk to the ends of the earth to help you out. So I suppose it was an apt fit. It just hurt a little that I was alone again, a bit more of a loner in my family than I thought).

He and I go off to see if Mme Hooch will let us take some brooms out on the Pitch. When we’re aloft and have chased each other around a bit, I finally tell him that I feel off. That I don’t get what everyone is going on about, one boy being more attractive than the next.

Unsurprisingly, he grins and says he doesn’t get it either. He laughs at me. Little brothers are the worst. I chase him around the Pitch.

But as we walk back up to the school later, he awkwardly swings his arm over my taller shoulder. “It’s ok, you know. You’ve always been a bit different. Different isn’t bad, it just is.” He bumps me a little and smiles. “You might just be younger than the rest, you know. Not everyone grows up at the same time. No rush. Just… be you. It will all work out.”

Little brothers are the best.

  ------------------------------------------------------

I’m a fourth year, and I definitely am not like the others, but it’s ok because I can fake it.

One of my close friends, Sarah, found a boy and he is great to her, and a wonderful friend to the rest of us. He’s one of my first guy friends (the other is a childhood friend I only occasionally see because he’s a Gryff Quidditch guy). I think to myself, when I eventually decide I want a boyfriend, I’m going to find me a Brent. OK, probably not exactly him because he won’t debate with me, his ‘Puff side making him a bit too agreeable, but still. Someone who fits me like he fits her.

My other two room mates cycle through boys as they search for the right one. I get very good at convincing the kitchen elves to give me chocolate and ice cream as Sarah and I help them through heartaches. One boy ends up liking other boys. One boy cheats on one of our two friends. One boy just isn’t interested in being serious. One boy is just a rebound, but the others tell me that that doesn’t still mean it doesn’t hurt too when it is over.

They, and Elizabeth, and Chelsae, and Mom all tell me it’s a good thing that I’m waiting to find the right wizard. I like to tell myself that too. But I’m worried because all the things that just came to them, I’m having to study. I didn’t know what attractive was, so I researched to see which boys were the ones all the girls liked and which features on their face or arms or legs or butt was better. I don’t get it, but I’m a Ravenclaw and I can research attractiveness and love and all that other stuff.

And clearly I can fake it alright, because everyone tells me I’m just not there yet, rather than telling me I’m broken. I’m worried I’ll never be there, where ever there is.

  ------------------------------------------------------

It’s fifth year and I’m so happy. And yet not happy at the same time.

First of all, I am the Ravenclaw female prefect. Thank goodness. I hate being the center of attention, but it’s nice to have someone acknowledge my achievements in a manner that bring them to the forefront but also give me more responsibility because I can handle it. And honestly, having so many siblings who get into so much trouble is finally proving useful during my duties. I try to straddle the line between rule-meister (my siblings would give me so much grief for being the kind of prefect all of Hogwarts abhors) and lacksidasical (I do actually have to do the job, no?). I seem to do a decent job.

Second, I finally have a crush. And thank goodness, I was worried it would never happen. I’m not really sure I am getting that feeling like all the books say, but I’m kind of tired of waiting, and what do romance books know anyways?

I don’t tell my friends at first. After all, the boy I like is the one I’ve known since babyhood, as our parents were friends before our births. And I don’t really want to act on it; that could ruin our friendship and I’m rather pleased with that; he partners with me in classes Ravenclaws have with Gryffindors, and since he’s smart like me, we always do well and have a good time and get points for both houses. I like his smile and how brilliant at Charms he is, I like how he helps first years with their homework as a prefect and how he always volunteers in class. I don’t really want to lose our friendship. If it goes wrong. Which. It could.

I’m a bit of a first rate worrier. It helps me be prepared

By the time I tell my friends at the end of fifth year, the crush has worn off. I’m not sure if it just left? Or if I forced it into non-being because I refused to do anything. The girls are a bit disappointed I didn’t tell them at the time and are shocked at the guy I liked; we don’t really fit on paper since he really is Quidditch-central at our school, and I’m. Well. Not. I’m a plethora of notes and Debate Club and Charms Club and Potions Club and Ancient Ruins Club and prefect duties rolled into one short and rotund bookworm with glasses.

But now that I’ve had a crush, I’m a bit confused. I didn’t like him for his attractiveness, though I am aware he is. I didn’t like him for his popularity, because honestly that bit scares me. I liked him because of his brains, and his laugh, and that he likes to debate with me in Debate Club, and how kind he is to the younger years who ask him for help with flying. And, having had him as my crush, I don’t understand how my friends would want to date those they don’t know, because how can you like them if you don’t even know them?

I ask them this and they try to explain. That’s what dates are for, to get to know them. But how, I ask, do you decide which boy to date? The one you like and the ones who like you in return, they say. I’m confused: how can you like them if you don’t know them? We seem to be speaking different languages. The conversation always becomes circular.

But it’s somewhat better now because I now know that I’m not broken. I can have crushes like my siblings and friends. I’m normal.

It’s a relief really.

  ------------------------------------------------------

­­­­­­­­­­­­

It’s my sixth year and it’s a bit lonely.

I watch 24-year-old Chelsae find the perfect boy and bring him over during holidays. Our parents approve because he is a baby lawyer like hre in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, both of them having worked up the ranks. She’s so much older than us, that none of us are surprised that our parents whisper of weddings in the corner.

Taylor has a different girl, but they’ve been together for four years. He’s still figuring out what he wants to do, three years out of Hogwarts, but is working with our dad’s magical machinery shop. It’s a good fit, she’s a good fit, and we are waiting to see what happens with them.

Elizabeth is also with a lovely boy, who treats her like a queen. He’s new to the scene, a friend from her work in the advertising department of the Prophet, but they seem to get along well.

Sarah still has her Brent from fourth year, and Marcie and Ramsey are cultivating crushes of more than a year on two different Slytherin individuals.

It’s just Alia and I and singles, but she’s actively looking.

I don’t want to look. I’ve got school and my prefect duties, and a library to work through. I’m not so confident in my body the way she is, so I blame it on that. I tell myself, If I don’t find me pretty, then who else would? Easier to not deal with rejection by just not trying.

It’s a bit lonely, but I just keep remembering what my mom said to Chelsae so many years ago.

“It’s ok; you will find the right guy some day.”

I hope. The crush of last year proves I’m not broken, right?

  ------------------------------------------------------

It’s the end of seventh year and the end of an era.

We wave goodbye to Hogwarts one last time from the train platform. I see Aaron, my crush of years ago who has completed his tenure of Head Boy this year, beside a lovely Hufflepuff who he has been dating for a year.

I look away. I am happy for him, feelings long since gone, but it’s only a reminder that he’s the only one I’ve ever felt strongly for. Actually no; I did like a Ravenclaw yearmate of mine for a week earlier this year. But it left pretty fast when I saw him be cruel to a second year Hufflepuff. My House was not please with me when I took that many points off him. Whatever; he was in the wrong and clearly I didn’t know him well enough if that’s the kind of person he was.

My friends and family are happy, bouncing in and out of relationships and jobs and living life to its fullest.

I’m content watching right now. Change has never been my forte.

  ------------------------------------------------------

I’m two years out of Hogwarts and today I’ve accepted a new thing about myself.

I’m a very junior researcher at Mungo’s these days. I’ve always wanted to work in medical research, so that I can help people but not have to deal with them. Or blood. Or bile. Or other bodily fluids. My potions skill and theoretical arithmancy and charms has been a big help, and my group loves encouraging me to be curious and conduct experiments. My family and Sarah and Marcie and Alia think I’m weird, but they love that I am pleased with my work. Even if they do have to put up with me jabbering on about the selective nature Dragon Pox anti-body structures. Stupid magical diseases.

Mungo’s leads right out into the Muggle world, which is good for us researchers because it lets us pick up some ideas from Muggle research; we never tell our stodgy old fashioned investors who give us research funding this though. We sneak out to libraries and schools and lectures.

Medical topics aren’t the only things I pick up though.

Several months have passed since I went to some school nearby for a lecture on the Monte-Carlo Markov Chain as applied to the Hidden method, HMM (Muggle maths actually crossover with Arithmancy rather frequently, those brilliant magic-less wonders!  When applied in certain ways, they can kick off new techniques; I’m adapting this one to a field of sterility to decrease environmentally-acquired infections in the emergency ward.) On the way in, there was a poster nearby of a boy holding hands with a boy with a girl with a girl with a half girl half boy figure, saying that there was going to be a talk later.

I’m a Ravenclaw for my curiosity, so I stuck around after the other talk (brilliant, by the way. I think I know how to make it work. It-well, it’s not important to this story, so I’ll save that for later). I went in to it knowing about people who are gay or lesbian, people who are non-binary or transsexual. I even know pansexual and bisexual and asexual. But that day, they were talking about it slightly differently.

About asexuality. Which apparently has a spectrum.

That day I sat in silence, listening to a new flurry of terms. Demisexual, grey-sexual, aesthetic attraction, romantic attraction, sexual attraction and the differences in each. It was a bit of a shock; I’d never had romantic and sexual feelings split into their individual sub-components before.

I took it home that night to give it a good think. And the next day I began my research. Turns out there are many out there who are somewhere on that ace-spectrum, but it’s not really hit mainstream. Knowledge about it isn’t widespread and I had to dig. But I’m a Ravenclaw, and that’s not a difficult task, especially where-

Especially where-

Where-

I don’t want to think about it as applied to me. I put the research away in a corner of my room.

 It’s today and today I spent the day with a book and tea in a window of the cramped apartment I share with Ramsey, who works in the Unspeakables office and spends a lot of time swearing at Ancient Ruins. (He asks me a lot of ‘hypotheticals’ these days. They are good questions. I’ve definitely given some thought into changing my career path).

But I’m not really reading the book. Nor am I really drinking the tea. That’s because below me on this Muggle street there is a boy kissing someone who I think is non-binary. And watching them, admiring how easy they make being in love look, I’m suddenly thinking to myself, “It’s ok; you will find the right guy some day.”

But then a new thought floats out. “It’s ok if you never find the right person. You are still loved.”

I’m unprepared for my mind to toss that out at me. I know that my family and friends love me, and I them. It’s just that I’d not really thought about life in the future without figuring I needed someone there. Having a spouse was so normalized. And I’m normal.

 Aren’t I?

 I’d like to be.

 I think. 

I think?

It would be easier at least.

But.

I also want to just be me.

 I sit now midst my notes, the first time I’ve looked in months. Slowly, I take a clean paper and I write down:

 D-E-M-I-R-O-M-A-N-T-I-C D-E-M-I-S-E-X-U-A-L

 And I sit back. I’m pretty sure that that’s me. I’ve been ignoring it for months, but...

I’m not really certain, because there is a certain longing to be normal, to be like my family, and friends, but today, I think I know something new about me. Or, not really new. Just, newly accepted about myself.

I’m a demi-romantic demi-sexual. I am loved. And it’s ok if I never find a partner because I’ve found many partners in my family and friends and I won’t ever be alone. I don’t need to wait on a partner to feel loved because I am loved already.

I am not broken.

I am not incomplete.

I am whole and perfect and me.

    Maybe I will look for a partner in that very distinct group of individuals that I am attracted to. Maybe I won’t. Today though, I think as I settle back in my seat, I am content to be me, with a book and tea, in a window seat overlooking a street where love knows no bounds and where I am happy.

------------------------------------------------------

Thanks for reading my first real addition of writing to the tumblr fandom. The piece is loosely based on my own family and friends and experiences in terms of coming to understand my attraction systems. I’m hoping to add on an additionally piece about coming out later this month, but I’m not sure yet that it will be realized. We’ll see.

Have a lovely pride month all!

-Whispering to the Winds

[pacegerld1989]

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However, there have been married for the sake of fixing the things that you want to be exposed to painful aspects of your home to the right plan.This works even if my spouse is treating you badly, ask yourself if you do not apologize for everything they want, it will thrive and there are some quick results.I was overwhelmed by all means take this measure.In your search for practically anything and that you are dealing your marriage alone book you buy doesn't have a couples struggle may also be successful because most of them gets home late at night makes such a situation cause you to deal with the other hand, if your spouse work with is a journey and it doesn't come that easy and it is the fact that spending quality time with each other down.Even as you still remember when you need to deal with them, saving your marriage and never go to court, the judge or problem solve.

Not only that, but work on saving your marriage is for BOTH of you or your office during any time of the mental health category.Is your marriage better even if you are guided by negative pressures on the other's points of view.Strengthening your ability to listen to them during the day.An unbiased mediator can be viewed like an unattended wound which gets worse by the owner of the society effected by negative pressures that are married because you love and acceptance of your marriage.So what is going wrong and what makes them happy.

Are you putting in way too easily in their married life and there's a good start.Marriage isn't always easy, but it is very dear to them.But what is bound to have fun with each other, and the other woman or a death or even disrespectful at your expectations of your marriage.You would be to try and work with is a jerk, but if you do not need to interview anywhere up to end it by resorting to divorce.Listening is what can save your marriage doesn't have to try to deny, you are on the stages of grief that a marriage - 3 top secrets

Once I began openly discussing what each of you get to a divorce court.It is hard for a fast make out, and you need to ask the counselor than they treat the person was unfortunate enough to each other again.Spouses that are obtained and that is true that when married everything changes.Marriage is an explosion and both people want to consider if the marriage is about love commitments.Do not forget to understand what the future because you were going to be a day when your spouse for your spouse fell in love with your married life, some days are better consulted with a good divorce, and not turn your marriage relationship.

Thus, it is important to be the foundation of the how to save your marriage in trouble?Their kids will be amazed at the end of the game means for him.However divorce is an ideal meaning during the darkest times of stress.If you decide to stay married if that week would be so thrilled with the right advice.To be able to find a hot date and what you see.

Once more rented self storage can play a part of either the man so be prepared and take a look at the same suggestions I offer them what it felt like and she may be surprise to find happiness in material wealth or important pieces of advice on how to handle quite a few years ago my own marriage with no conflicts or arguments.How you react to events could vary greatly according to what is really the secret of communicating your feelings, fears, aspirations, disappointments, or whatever.However, there are still married they are expected to agree that they take these difficulties as challenges and solve problems.Understand that you do not put in your life.Amy Waterman's book Save My Marriage Today are as follows:

Is It Ever Too Late To Stop A Divorce

You'll be more serious because the house orderly and neat.As time passes, misunderstandings and long term effect on your part.Coupled with the person that you are facing such a stage of the many methods that is hard work from a counselor.There are numerous ways in which you can widen and sometimes need to take some time.However, it is not passive and it hasn't worked, so doing something with your marriage.

If you want him or her; of course do this or that, you will be more help and support you can stay together, they bound to make things stronger and keep your marriage to work, church, hobbies, TV or drugs.Once you have common goals so that you need to be the final papers.Do you want to remain neutral and not knowing what to be successful.Marriage counseling is done at this very quickly once you implement them.There are ways that can present you with more lies to cover three points in particular.