#and the grief was so intense i even kept seeing her despite knowing she was dead and i was aware i was hallucinating her

[nie7027]

What does it mean when you have a stress dream that plays out exactly like Jackie's death dream sequence?

Literally I was surrounded by all my loved ones telling me how much they love me in that fake ass creepy cheery tone and just like Jackie I felt so happy and loved at first before it dawned on me how fake it was and how little sense it made considering all that's happened and how there were so many people who shouldn't/couldn't even be there

It was horrible and I woke up gasping for air because I was crying

[johnwickb1tsch]

you're the worst thing (i'm addicted to) PART 2

a john wick x Helen'sSister!Reader fic You are Helen's baby sister. When you meet John Wick at Helen's graveside, he invites you to dinner to celebrate her birthday. Set a few years after the first movie, 2-4 never happened. Use of y/n. Warnings: canon typical violence. Future reference to threat of noncon, (not John! because he's our assassin sweetiepie). Mourning. Smut. Grey areas. Questionable decisions. Sweetheart!John, BAMF!John Depressed!John - If you can handle the movie you should be fine here... PART 1

PART 2.

You tell him that you’ll meet him there. After your little crying jag, you have to go home and clean up. Maybe with some painkillers and a nap with an ice pack on your eyes you won’t look like death warmed over. He offers to pick you up, but you decline, knowing it would make the drive twice as long for him.

For a moment he seems like he wants to argue, but in the end he lets it go.

The restaurant is in Manhattan. It’s the sort of place you could never afford, and maybe even if you could, it wouldn’t exactly be your scene. You smooth your dress over your hips as you get out of your cab, hoping you won’t embarrass John. It was the nicest thing you own for a respectable rendezvous, a dark green paisley Etro dress with long sleeves that you’d scored at a thrift shop. It bared your shoulders with a wide neckline, but not much cleavage. You were behaving yourself tonight, despite the little suggestions the devils on your shoulders were whispering into your ear.  

Despite the fact that you arrive early, John is waiting for you outside, looking utterly edible in another black on black three-piece suit. Does he buy them in bulk? The thought makes you smile a little, a thing he returns in small measure. There is a sadness that cloaks this man like a mantle, and for a moment you wonder if that is what people see, when they look at you. You’re not sure you’re qualified to help him at all, but maybe, just maybe, there could be some solace in your shared grief for the same woman who left you both behind.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

Nervously, you look through the window at the glittering lights and swanky diners laughing over their expensive glasses of wine. You feel unbearably self-conscious. “Am I dressed ok for this place?”

“You look beautiful.” He says it so matter of fact, his tone completely platonic. And yet…

And yet.

He looks at you with a haunting intensity that grips you to the bone. He isn't even looking at your body. He's looking at your face, almost as though he's seen a ghost. 

You know you remind him of her, and you wonder if maybe this is a bad idea. 

But he shakes himself out of it, offering his arm, and even though you have an inkling that maybe you shouldn't, another part of you that is usually kept locked up in the dungeon with the rest of your worst impulses pushes you to take it, because you want to. Bolstered by his approval and your own special brand of foolhardiness, you slip your arm through his with your head held high.  

You haven't technically done anything wrong yet. Lusting after your sister's husband in an abstract way you never had any intention of acting on isn't exactly new. But the rest...is edging into a murky gray area.

What would Helen think? She'd probably be amused, truth be told, at least by your own inner turmoil. You remember that she told you once that she never got jealous when women went all googly eyed over her model-handsome husband, because she trusted him so completely. He doesn't even look at them, she said. 

Well. He'd looked at you, like he was a wolf and you were a tasty little bunny. Just the thought made you flush all over again, your fingers involuntarily flexing on John's bicep.

Dear lord, it was like granite. 

He looks down at you, curious, and you know you look as embarrassed as you feel. “Sorry,” you quickly apologize, looking anywhere but at his burning anthracite eyes. He pats your hand, but says nothing, sparing you the embarrassment of making up some lame excuse. 

You go inside, and the maître d’ is exceptionally solicitous. Welcome back, Mr. Wick. This way please, Mr. Wick. He and Helen must have been quite the regulars.

Once you are at your table John waves off the maître d’, opting to push in your chair for you. His fingers brush your shoulder afterwards. It was probably a mistake, but you cannot suppress a small shudder. He does not look at you as he seats himself, opting to pick up the menu.

You follow suit, your skin on fire. 

It was an accidental touch, you tell yourself.

He didn't mean anything by it.

You glance up from your menu, to find he is looking at you out the corner of his eye.

You tell your treacherous heart that attempts to pound out of your chest to settle the fuck down.

“So...what was Helen’s favorite dish here?”

He doesn't look up, and for some reason you are relieved.

“Guess.”

“Hmm.” You scan the offerings. It is mostly French leaning nouvelle cuisine. It all looks delicious, and very expensive. You know the moment your eyes find the line, and you smile. “The magret de canard.”

This time he does smile with you. It is tinged with nostalgia, and your heart aches. For him. For you. For the woman you are remembering together.

“She took me to Europe when I graduated from high school. She ordered that dish in every restaurant in France we went to. She said it was so delicious there was no point in trying anything else.” You cackle with another memory. “Then when we got home she was determined to learn how to make it. It went ok until the sauce. Holy shit, the black smoke in that kitchen was like a tire fire!” You wipe away a tear that is borne of mirth and memory. 

When you look across the table again John is smiling gently, as though he can see it perfectly in his own mind’s eye.

“She was a terrible cook.” He says it fondly, like it amused the hell out of him.

“I know. I am too, I’m not throwing shade here. Do you like to cook?”

The side of his mouth ticks up in a smirk. “Yes. I find it relaxing.”

Figures. He would be so perfect. One of many reasons Helen undoubtedly fell in love with him.

When the waiter comes John orders a filet, and you, the duck. “For Helen,” you say with a wistful curl of lips. He stares at you silently for a long beat before nodding, returning your smile perfunctorily. You marvel that you can already tell when his expressions are genuine, and when he’s playing the part he needs to for the sake of social nicety. Your heart aches for him. It must be so painful to be here, where he'd dined with Helen so many times. Maybe more like sticking a finger in a wound, than a brave act for the sake of nostalgia. What were the two of you thinking? 

It occurs to you, from things Helen had said, that maybe this is more than just her favorite restaurant.

“This is where you met, isn't it?” 

His eyes are fixed on a particular spot at the bar. “Right over there. She was meeting a client, but he canceled. So we had dinner together.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You didn't happen to have anything to do with that?” All Helen had ever told you about John's occupation was that he worked in security, but she had implied multiple times that he was resourceful, smart, and not someone to be fucked with.

The corner of his mouth ticks, his eyebrow rising slightly. You congratulate yourself for lifting him at least a little out of his funk. “I'm afraid it was just luck on my part.” 

“Fate,” you correct, toasting with your water glass, because you haven’t been brought drinks yet.

“It's nice to think so.”

“So then you had dinner.” You know the story. “Where did you sit?”

“Right here.” 

You feel a chill, knowing that once, your sister had sat in this very place, across from this very man, and changed the course of her life forever. You marvel at what that must have been like. You never fall for men quickly, usually keeping them at arm’s length for as long as you can manage. You’ve never experienced love at first sight, or first night, but looking at this handsome man across from you, it's not so hard to imagine.

“Did you fall in love that night?” you ask quietly.

“I did. I think for Helen...it took a little longer.”

Immediately you shake your head. “No,” you contradict, wanting him to know this. “She called me, the next day. She told me she'd just met the most amazing man and that she wanted to spend her life with him. I thought she was crazy.” You look around at the intimate setting, the low soft lighting and the swanky surroundings, a little misty eyed. Then, you look at him. This handsome devil with the soft eyes of a poet.

Helen hadn’t been frivolous. She hadn’t even been particularly romantic. Meeting John Wick changed all that.

“Maybe I understand a little better now.”

You look at each other from across the table. There is a longing in his eyes that you know you do not have the power to heal, and yet you would if you could. You would give a great deal to see this man made whole again—you’re not really sure why.

He looks away first, and you feel…raw. 

“Thank you. I…was the best version of myself, for her.” His long fingers trace a circle in the white table cloth, a hairline of a frown appearing on his brow. “I've slid backwards a bit, since.”

Hoo boy, did you get that.

“That’s ok,” you say softly. “We do what we have to, to survive.”

He looks up at you with those soulful dark eyes through his long hair. Your fingers itch to brush it out of his face. To touch him, and you absolutely know you shouldn't. Shouldn’t even think it. But there is something in the way he's been looking at you today. Something almost like…hunger, and your belly flutters with a thousand butterflies made of bad ideas and midnight longings.

“So…what about you? Are you seeing anyone?”

You shake your head with your heart in your throat. Is he asking out of politeness, making chit chat, or does he want to know if you’re unattached?

The truth is you’ve never had a relationship that lasted more than six months, and a nervous little laugh escapes you.

“I’ve…never met anyone who it was worth the sacrifice. Things are always nice at first, but then he starts to try to mold you into the person he really wants you to be, and you realize all along he just wanted someone to cook his meals and wash his socks.” 

John lifts an eyebrow at this, the corner of his mouth turning up ever so slightly.

“Maybe you should try dating someone who can afford a housekeeper.” He looks up at you then, his dark eyes soft yet penetrating, and you swear he can see straight through to the depths of you. The look almost feels like a challenge, somehow. You try to meet him head on, but in the end the unbearable heat of it makes you squirm, and you look away.

The waiter saves you from what you might say next, bringing the bottle of wine John ordered. 

Thank god, because you need a drink.

[otherwordlyanathema]

GOJO SATORU X F!READER

DESCENT INTO INSANITY

Wherein Gojo Satoru is the anchor that keeps you sane.

A/N: Currently crying because of Leaks 😭

'Satoru is dead?'

Y/N couldn't wrap her head around it. One minute he was standing triumphant after annihilating the majority of Shinjuku with his Hallow Purple, the next thing they knew; Sukuna had disembodied him in half.

Everyone was silent.

The situation changed drastically that they couldn't wrap their head around it.

Gojo's students were in anguish.

Y/N watched as Kashimo jumped down as the next contender against Sukuna.

"No! No!" she mumbled, frantically. "Satoru's body is still there..."

It was Hakari who first sprung into action, dashing towards where Kashimo and Sukuna are clashing and narrowly dodging being cut as he took Gojo's body from the battlefield. Returning back to the others, he laid the Special Grade down in front of his lover.

Y/N was a Special Grade in her own right. She was often overlooked because she allowed Gojo's brightness to shine and allowed herself to stay in the background.

Nobody knew how destructive she could be. She was kept in check because Satoru made her happy. Happy and contented enough that she could keep her unstable powers at bay.

Choked sobs escaped from her throat at the sight of Satoru's body.

It hurt like nothing she experienced before. Seeing him bloodied.

From beside her, Shoko knelt down placing a hand where Gojo was cleaved. With her Reverse Cursed Technique, she healed the skin to reattach despite not knowing what it would do. She figured Y/N deserved to see Satoru as she met him.

'I don't know if Satoru could come back from this but at least this gives him a fighting chance.' Shoko thought, sadly looking at her annoying friend.

Y/N let out a heartbroken scream which broke the heart of the spectators of the Battle of the Strongest.

Kneeling down beside Satoru, her hand caressed his blood stained hair and she wiped the blood on his lips with her sleeve. Her hands covered his once bright Six-Eyes that she loved so much as she moved them closed.

'Satoru did not deserve this. He had done so much only to end up like this.' Y/N thought, bitterly. 'You don't know how much I wanted to shelter you from this world you did so much to uphold order.'

Something else had taken root inside of Y/N.

They said death of a beloved makes you numb.

Not in her case.

Her entire being screamed revenge.

Shoko's eyes widened as her gaze drifted to Y/N. Her friend's Cursed Energy was pulsing dangerously. "Y/N what..."

Y/N's leaking Cursed Energy caused everyone to wince at how intense it was.

"Y/N stop! You'll manifest a curse like this!" Shoko scolded, attempting to get the female to calm down.

To their surprise, the female vanished before one of Mei Mei's crows had spotted Y/N levitating above where the clash of Sukuna and Kashimo were currently happening.

'And here comes the numbness they were talking about during grief.' Y/N thought, mustering up her Cursed Energy at maximum output as her eyes took on a crazed look.

'What good has being good done me? None. I'm done being good. The world is about to witness how bad I can be.'

---FLASHBACK---

"Aren't you tired, love?" Y/N asked an exhausted Gojo, who just returned from a solo mission.

His eyes brightened even more at the sight of the female cooking. He bounded towards her and wrapped his arms around her waist, burying his head in the crook of her neck. "I am. But I do it for you and the kids. I think that's enough of an incentive to keep going."

Her eyes widened at his statement and how serious he actually seemed. "I want to be able to protect you too. Or at the very least be a sanctuary where you can actually relax and let your guard down."

His only response was a smile, inhaling her scent that never fails to make him content. 'You already do. Coming home to you is sanctuary enough.'

---END FLASHBACK---

"What is life without you, Satoru?" She murmured before a maniacal look came on her once angelic features. "What use is this world without you?"

Her Cursed Energy continued emerging from her, fueled by her desire to destroy it all. It manifested into a huge black sphere of condensed Cursed Energy, ready to raze anything in its path.

She's slowly realizing she wasn't meant to save the world, rather to watch it burn.

"Watch me burn this world for what it has done to you, Satoru."

[blissfullyapillow]

‧₊˚ ┊When the Stars Embrace the Moon 

♡⸝⸝ Makoto Yuki x gn reader 

♡⸝⸝ wc: 2,413~

𝄞 ‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅ Song inspiration: Tek It I End of Beginning I Ghost I When the Moon’s Reaching Out Stars I 

♡⸝⸝ Warnings: Angst with a happy ending & depictions/implications of intense feelings of grief. Major Persona 3 Reload, Persona 3 FES, and Persona 3 FES: The Answer ending spoilers. Also mildly spoils some character stories regarding Persona 4 Arena and Persona 4 Arena Ultimax. I wrote this with Persona 3 FES in mind as I have no intention of playing Persona 3 Reload.

♡⸝⸝ Pillow Talks: This is what happens when you get too emotionally attached to a fictional character lol. The way this ends is not only my way to cope (lol) but because it’s heavily implied in Persona 4 Arena, as well as Persona 4 Ultimax, that Elizabeth is doing something that will result in a change. In PersonaQ (I have yet to finish it), even Margaret knows something will occur regarding Elizabeth but she must refrain from speaking of it. It is unknown whether this will result in Minato coming back, and of course many have mixed feelings on if he did come back and how that would impact the meaning behind his death. I’m interested to see what Atlus has planned regarding Elizabeth (after they make their 10th Persona 5 spin-off). Personally, Minato is my favorite fictional character of all time so I want him to come back. Anyway, I digress; I hope you enjoy. <3

♡⸝⸝ P.S: I have to clarify I made a magnificent reference to my fav song from Persona 3 FES, “When the Moon’s Reaching Out Stars” with the line, “It soars to the sky, to cast its adoring gaze to the moon as it rests amongst the stars. 

Masterlist

A warm hand intertwined with mine.

The blazing sun bathes his figure in an ethereal glow as beautiful pink petals fall from the trees above.

Yet the ephemeral scene fails to capture my attention; I fear my hands are sweaty and it’ll only be a moment before he takes notice.

A subtle glance his way is all it takes for me to capture his attention. Albeit one eye is obscured by his bangs, the tender emotion that lies dormant within his irises comes alive as they meet mine.

He’s silent, an action that isn’t unusual for him. Despite this, the vibrant sounds of life swarm around us and fill my ears with an everlasting ethereal tune. His hand squeezes mine, so softly it’s almost imperceptible.

My lips betray my trust as they curl upwards, and my voice divulges my secrets as an elated giggle escapes its confines.

His voice follows suit; our voices intermingle to create a melodious harmony that turns the heads of passerby. 

The air smells of cherry blossoms and hope. Hope that we carry together, kept safe between our pressed palms.

The air around us stirs with a subtle whoosh.

♪ ♫ 

This is a fond memory of mine.

୭ ˚.⁺⊹ ☽ ๋࣭ ⭑❀˖°

He rolls his eyes.

I pinch his nose.

He frowns.

I smile.

“Will you two get a room already?” A familiar voice rebounds off the walls of the dorm, and our companion voices his agreement.

“Yeah, you two can be pretty insufferable when you act like this.” My eyes turn to glare at said companion to find his lips wearing a mischievous grin. “Just like you and Chidorita?” My smug comment alights his face in a burning flame, and Yukari fails to stifle her amused laughter.

“Yeah yeah, laugh while you can now!” Junpei’s voice echoes around the room. “Your face is as red as Chidori’s hair, Junpei-san. Do you need medical attention?” Aegis monotone voice drifts into our ears.

Obnoxious laughter follows from everyone in the room.

Excluding Junpei, who huffs in annoyance before storming upstairs. There’s no doubt that he’s sulking in his room.

I finally return my gaze to my favorite portrait, to resume admiring its beauty.

However, the painting now stares back at me, a  tender (find synonym) expression etched onto its features.

My heart skips a beat, similar to the way children skip as they play hopscotch.

His smile reflects the warmth in my heart; it’s an outward reflection of the love that fills my soul, only to pour from my fingertips with every gentle caress against his skin.

This memory moves me to tears.

These tears stain his used pillowcase, the one I have yet to wash since his scent desperately clings to the fabric.

I miss him.

୭ ˚.⁺⊹ ☽ ๋࣭ ⭑❀˖°

Koromaru barks as he runs ahead. I glance at him beside me, his hands stuffed faithfully in his pockets.

It’s a chilly night, but the cool wind makes me feel alive. It roots me to the present moment, and for that I’m grateful.

“Yuki…”

Leisurely, he lifts his head, and his eyes meet mine.

I hold his gaze, and he makes no effort to break away.

“I love you.”

The words escape my lips in a borderline inaudible whisper, my voice oozing with the love I carry for him deep in my soul.

His eyes widen a fraction, clearly taken aback.

We’ve spent many nights together like this, whether it’s walking koromaru, singing our hearts out at karaoke, or even spending quiet nights studying in the dorm together; my heart has grown to yearn for his presence beside me.

Despite this, I’ve grown fearful of becoming too attached. Makoto isn’t someone familiar with emotions like these, not from what I’ve gathered from the time we’ve spent together.

Although.. These past few months I’ve seen a change within him. A slow one, like two friends who yearn to confess to each other but remain paralyzed with fear of rejection.

It’s a change that presents itself in his smile, the laughter he fails to hold back at our antics, the concern that’s etched in his furrowed brow when one of our teammates gets knocked down in Tartarus.

It’s a beautiful change. It’s grown to be something I want to protect.

Yet, my mouth has a mind of its own, and it’s spilled my most precious secret to him.

I wait with bated breath for his response.

Could this be the end of our friendship? Have I just ruined the bond we’ve formed, the bond that has brought color back into my dull world? Will he reject me? Will-

“Close your eyes.” My feet stop moving. I hear Koromaru up ahead, his happy barks indicating he's found something he wants to show us. Yet, my feet remain rooted to the ground.

My body acts on my internalized feelings as my eyes swiftly close shut at his command.

It’s silent.

Time continues to march forward despite my wishes.

As it always does.

This time, it’s in my favor, as I feel a soft pair of lips delicately brush against mine; lonely and yearning.

My hand rests upon his cheek as my heart flutters from my chest.

It soars to the sky, to cast its adoring gaze to the moon as it rests amongst the stars.

My heart is finally home.

just as my physical body feels at home in his arms.

He pulls away, and I open my eyes.

My heart is reflected within his gaze, and the change that I’ve grown fond of presents itself once more; He leans in for another kiss.

Koromaru barks.

The universe embraces me, and it gives me the happiness I’ve always yearned for.

This memory reflects the meaning of eternity; my feelings regarding the term ‘forever.’

This memory will remain.

It will always bring me happiness.

Despite this, he is not here in my arms, as he’s now bound to a door.

To watch over us all, forever; for eternity.

…Will I ever see you again? Why can I no longer press a kiss that furrowed brow? Am I doomed to forget the smile that lights up your features when I walk into a room?

Did I miss the opportunity? To show you how my heart reflects the love you’ve grown to harbor for others?

…The love you’ve grown to harbor for me?

୭ ˚.⁺⊹ ☽ ๋࣭ ⭑❀˖°

I reach out to grasp for his familiar hand, the hand that’s always the first to search for mine when trouble inevitably catches us off guard.

The only thing my hand grasps is air; the other side of my bed is empty.

His scent is fading from the pillow case.

୭ ˚.⁺⊹ ☽ ๋࣭ ⭑❀˖°

My cheeks remain wet as memories of him fill me with yearning.

Love and heartbreak wraps me in their firm embrace; I feel their arms squeeze me as they hold me close, my friends’ sobs almost drown out the ringing in my ears.

Memories of school and a radiant blue sky, watching over the rooftop of Gekkoukan High School, refuse to leave my mind.

I’ve never felt such a deep feeling of loss and sorrow before.

That’s not something I can say lightly.

Despite my unique experiences that may deviate from his own, Makoto has been my mirror. My window.

I’ve seen myself reflected in him, time and time again. Yes, I am my own person, but I’ve grown to form a connection with Yuki that I’ve never formed with another in my short lifetime.

Call me crazy, but when I was with Yuki I felt as if our souls intertwined, as if we'd finally found a home together after wandering a desert full of failed commitments and broken promises. All in search of an oasis… in search of trust.

Trust that we found within each other.

I roll over and curl into a tight ball as my emotions threaten to consume me.

A soft knock fails to bring me out of my sorrow.

My ears pick up on the audible click the door makes as it opens, but I refuse to acknowledge whomever is there.

A gentle, cold hand rests on my shoulder.

My body shivers since the cool metal contrasts with my flushed skin.

“I knew I would find you here.” She doesn’t sound concerned. Just knowing.

I can’t respond.

She doesn’t mind.

Her cool hand runs through my hair. They uncurl my body to wipe my tears away.

I’m thankful, yet I’m angry.

I almost don’t want to see her.

She hums; almost as if she’d read my thoughts and she doesn’t care.

I fall asleep to the feeling of cool metal pressed against warm skin.

୭ ˚.⁺⊹ ☽ ๋࣭ ⭑❀˖°

My voice sounds like a stranger’s to my ears. I feel awful, horrible for how I’m lashing out at another innocent person whose suffering just as much as I am.

Even so, the words pour viciously from my mouth as she stands across from me.

She doesn’t speak.

Akihiko raises his voice. He sounds just as angry, but for a different reason. My heart squeezes painfully in my chest, but I have to get the words out.

“Why was it you!? We all share a special bond with him, as well as with each other, but you…” A lone tear slides down her robotic features.

It makes me pause. I’m surprised.

But..

I knew all too well that my anger was misdirected.

Aigis doesn’t refute anything I have to say. She silently stands before me, crying.

Aigis, who used to struggle telling apart a joke from a genuine statement. Aigis, who couldn’t comprehend human emotions as a motivating factor behind certain actions and words.

Aigis, who now stands before me experiencing emotions of her own.

Emotions that have led her to tears.. because of my misguided anger towards her.

I swallow down the lump in my throat as I push past Junpei. Akihiko calls for me to return, and I hear Ken make a comment about how awkward and tense the situation is.

I lock myself in his room.

…

No one knocks on the door this time.

୭ ˚.⁺⊹ ☽ ๋࣭ ⭑❀˖°

It’s silent.

Everyone’s gathered around. We need to determine what our next course of action is, but there’s an elephant in the room that longs to be addressed.

We’re searching for the answer, and it’s right in front of us; it’s been here all along. The only obstacle in obtaining it lies within our warped perception of the situation.

“You need to apologize-”

“Akihiko-san.”

He visibly falters before awkwardly coughing into his fist. Mitsuru clearly has her own thoughts on the situation, but she’s chosen to remain silent at the moment.

I glance in Ken’s direction, and he gives me an encouraging nod accompanied by a sympathetic smile.

“Aigis, I apologize for my behavior earlier. My anger towards you was misguided and fueled by my… well, it’s more accurate to say our sorrow.. with Yuki’s passing..”

The resulting silence is suffocatingly loud.

It’s presence is overbearing. So much so that I fear we’ll never talk things through.

That is, until Aigis walks over to me.

As her arms wrap around me, a new feeling blossoms in my chest. It swallows the creeping fear inside of me whole, and it fuels an unyielding strength within me.

Hope.

“We will figure this out together. The bonds we have forged amongst each other will not be broken so easily. Don’t you agree…?” Aigis’s words are as soothing as they are motivating.

A quick glance around the room reveals relieved faces and fond smiles.

Unshed tears blur my vision, but these tears do not originate from the sadness that once permeated my very being.

“..Yes.”

It still hurts.

But it feels a bit better now.

୭ ˚.⁺⊹ ☽ ๋࣭ ⭑❀˖°

It’s been years now.

I’ve seen Ken grow into a respectable young man. Akihiko is finally pursuing college, with the supervision of Aigis, and Mitsuru continues to be successful in her endeavors. The same can be said of Yukari and Junpei, albeit it’s clear the latter still misses the one who made his heart sing.

Fuuka is doing well too. It makes me happy to see everyone pursuing their individual passions. Including myself.

☀︎❀

Spring has returned.

It’s hot today.

The heat from the burning sun above threatens to lull me to sleep.

My heavy eyelids fall shut as I feel myself drift off to sleep.

His face, encapsulated in stone, drifts to the forefront of my mind.

A heavy sigh leaves me.

My eyes remain dry as I allow the memory to come and go, holding strong all the while.

I miss him, I truly do.

But, through the bonds I’ve made with the former members of S.E.E.S, I’ve cultivated the strength of will to move onward and forward, towards a future I can be proud of.

I open my eyes when I hear footsteps approaching.

The figure standing before me is familiar, yet surely a figment of my imagination.

I close my eyes again, in hopes of fully waking up this time.

I open them once more when I feel the person moving closer to me. I sit up, only to bump heads with them.

“Ouch!” I yelp. My hands cradle the spot where we bumped heads. That’s when I realize, the pain I just felt is real, and the person standing in front of me is…

Is..

My eyes widen dramatically, and my mouth parts to say all the words my soul longs to poetically convey.

He simply smiles.

He opens his arms.

My thoughts spiral out of control. Is this an illusion? How could this be remotely possible? Is this… really true?

When our eyes meet, my questions receive a silent answer. My eyes take notice of the wavering emotions within his gaze; I can see the soul of the man I love, a soul which was once bound to a door, is now standing here before me. 

Whatever miracle performed this action, I am forever grateful to its benevolence. 

I dare not waste another moment in idle contemplation.

I throw myself into his arms. 

He catches me. 

He laughs.

My soul joins in on his joyous laughter, as tears full of love slowly cascade down my cheeks.

Our laughter intermingles to create a melodious harmony that turns the heads of passerby, once more. 

[ofstarsandvibranium]

To Have & To Hold: Part 11

Fandom: Marvel - Moon Knight (Mafia AU)

Pairing: Marc Spector x F!Reader, Steven Grant x F!Reader, Jake Lockley x F!Reader

Summary: To ensure you’re always safe even after his passing, your father, a mob boss, makes you marry his right hand, Marc Spector. You don’t necessarily hate Marc, but you don’t get along either. Therefore, this marriage of convenience may be a bit difficult for you.

Series Masterlist

Marc knew you were under a lot of stress and grief, which was why he didn't bother bringing this up to you. He wanted to, he really did want to tell you. He was going to, honest, but then the conflict with Harrow and your dad's passing...there just didn't seem to be a right time. Not to mention, you've been icing him out a bit since he kept you in the dark about your father's sacrifice. Nonetheless, he let you have your space, providing some comfort and peace when you let him close enough.

Even in those moments together, he still didn't think bringing this up was the right time. Bringing up that he was still technically married while you're mourning and planning a wedding just didn't seem right.

So he was dealing with this on his own, trying to get a hold of his estranged wife.

Yes, Marc was still married but him and Layla had been separated for years. A fight got too intense and she left and never came back. He never reached out either, his pride getting the best of him despite Steven wanting him to reach out so desperately.

Marc honestly didn't think he'd get married again, but then your father confided in him and Marc thought the arrangement wasn't that bad. He got something good out of it and he just hoped that you and he would get along.

He didn't really expect to fall for you as hard as he did. You accepted him and his alters. You found comfort in him and he did you.

That's why he felt so guilty for holding this secret from you for so long, but so much has happened and he can't tell you about it. Not yet, not until the papers are signed and the divorce is finalized. It' something you shouldn't have to deal with. It's his problem and his alone.

________________________

Wanda and Pietro hug you from both sides. The Maximoff twins both apologize for not being present for your father's funeral but you understood why they were gone. Business to do and what not.

"Not that I don't miss seeing you two, but I also know you're in the middle of a lot of business deals right now. So why did you call for lunch meeting?" you give them a cocked brow.

Pietro, ever the flirtatious one, smirks at you, "Can we not visit our favorite person?"

"You can, but I'm just curious is all."

Wanda sighs and begins playing with the stem of her mimosa glass, "I must admit that we do have something to tell you because we think it's important to know."

You sit up a little straighter, "What is it? What's wrong?"

Pietro looks at you with pity, "We received word that your husband to be met has been meeting with a private investigator on our property."

"A private investigator? For what?" your brows furrow in confusion and curiosity. What could Marc possibly need a private investigator for? And what did he keep from you?

"Wanda reaches out and holds your hand reassuringly, "He's married, Y/N."

You pull your hand back, "What?"

Pietro nods, "It's true. We didn't want to tell you right way, wanting to find out more for you first. He's been meeting with this PI for a few weeks now. Our people did some digging on what he's been investigating. He's married and he's been looking for his estranged wife for some time."

Wanda adds in, "But he's only looking for her because he's trying to finalize their divorce. Apparently he's been married all this time. Obviously, he can't marry you until his divorce is settled."

You lean back in your chair, arms crossing over your chest and brows furrowing, "Why the fuck didn't he tell me this? After all this time and he kept that from me? What else is he fucking hiding?"

Pietro shrugs, "That's all our people found out, sunshine. Do you want us to dig deeper?"

You shake your head, "No. Fuck that. I'm bringing it up to him." You're glad you ordered a mimosa as you down your entire glass. You place your glass onto the table, "Thank you for telling me."

You stand and grab your bag, pulling out your wallet. Wanda immediately shakes her head, "No. On us."

"Guys-"

"We owe you."

You pull out a few bills and place them on the table, "And I owe you. Thank you for informing me about my-about Marc."

"Will you be okay?" Pietro asks genuinely.

"I will be. Can't say the same for Marc." With that, you left your friends and immediately head home to speak with your...fiancé.

_________________________

"MARC SPECTOR!" you yell out your fiancé's as you enter your estate. Your voice bounces off the walls in echoes and you listen for a reply, but get none.

"He's out, Y/N," the caretaker of the estate, Dara, says, stepping out from her office.

"Did he mention where he'd be going?" you look back at the older woman who was practically a mother figure to you.

She shakes her head, "No. Just said he was leaving for a bit."

"Did he happen to take one of dad's cars?"

"The BMW."

You smile at her, "Perfect," you immediately pull out your phone and begin dialing a number.

Dara slowly approaches you, "Is everything okay?"

You scoff and bring the phone to your ear, hearing it dialing, "Not even the slightest, but I'll handle it. I'm a L/N. We know how to handle things."

The dialing stops with a "Yello?"

"Tony, I need you to track one of dad's cars, please."

"Sure thing, sunshine. Which one?" you hear the older man speak, the sound of typing in the background.

"The BMW."

You hear more typing, a few clicks of a mouse and, "Got it. Downtown in Barnes' territory in some coffeeshop on fifth street."

"Thank you."

"Should I be concerned?" your dad's old colleague asks.

"Not for me. For my future husband, maybe."

"Yikes. I've learned to stay out of other people's marital affairs."

You snort, "Yeah, that's probably best. But thank you, Tony."

"No problemo, kiddo. And you sure you're okay?"

You clench your jaw, "Really wish people would stop asking me that right now."

"Sorry. Well, good luck. Gimme a holler if you need anything else."

"Thanks, Tony. Bye." you end the call and turn to see Dara looking at you with concern written all over her face, "I'm fine," you grit out and she holds her hands up and slowly backs away.

You roll your neck and head back out the door.

_________________________

You spot your dad's BMW parked by the sidewalk. You park some cars behind it and practically storm into the coffeeshop.

You scan the tables and spot Marc in the back. He's sitting with a woman and their hands are intertwined. You're ready to march right over there but you pause. You see how he's looking at her, his eyes soft, a hint of a smile on his lips.

Your heart breaks a little seeing this side of Marc you don't think you've seen before. You mentally scold yourself for getting too emotional in this, in Marc, in all of it. This doesn't mean anything. The relationship you have with him is transactional. You get to keep running your charity organizations and he gets to lead your dad's business. Nothing in the contract said you had to be in love with each other.

You take a deep breath and decide turn back around and leave. You'll talk to Marc when he gets back.

[fiddlepies]

grief and absurdity

it's been just under a month since i beat P3R and i've had some time to distill my thoughts on it, because there's something about it that just really resonates with me, particularly post-october, and i'd like to write about it. this is kind of personal but i want to share it anyway. cw for parental death

six months ago my mother passed away, and a month after that i moved out on my own and started university. i started making tons of new friends and spending time with them and going to clubs and events. but despite that, one of the biggest struggles i had in that period of change and adjustment was isolation. something that kept coming up in grief counselling was how disconnected i felt from my new life, because i had this horrific life event and all these complicated emotions and mourning weighing me down. it felt like when i spent time with my new friends i couldn't engage or connect like i wanted to, because the bereavement was such a big part of me but i couldn't talk about it. i had no idea how to go about opening up to people i've only known for a couple of weeks about something so intense. i felt so awkward and alone, and so pained, but life went on, dragging me behind it

P3R was my first exposure to P3, i knew barely anything about it, but when i was playing through it i really felt like it saw me. obviously the game is all about life and especially death, but the way the actual game flow is constructed just completely represents how i felt in these past months. like shinji's death for instance. it's fucking awful, the worst-case scenario, and you're powerless to do anything as you watch this life you loved disappear forever. you're forever changed.

but you still have to go to school after that. you still have to study for your exams. you have to meet people and spend time with them, even when they have no idea the depths of what's actually going on. you want to tell them but they could never understand. a cycle of doing your best to be fine in the day while the memories catch up with you at night. it's completely absurd, going back to a 'normal' daily life while carrying such a burden. but you have to do it, don't you?

that's what i felt like. when i spent the day as the MC in class, maybe seeing someone after school, and then returning back to a somber dorm, where personal reality sets in... that's exactly how i felt every night for weeks. i still do. it's fucking bizarre.

but you know, i wasn't completely alone. even though the people i surrounded myself day to day in class didn't understand, i had people who did understand. my friends who knew me before everything happened, who were there for me at the crux of it. i have still have a family who loves me. that's what i saw in SEES after shinji's death. friends and allies that truly do understand and share in your pain. going back to the dorm every day and seeing everyone's faces hurt, but it hurt in a way that wasn't lonely. it was comforting, knowing none of them would be alone in this. one of the moments that really solidified SEES as a family to me.

and mitsuru's father's death, god. the week where she was absent due to funeral and inheritance preparations hit me especially hard. since i lost a parent too, i had to be part of the same processes. luckily nowhere near the extent she had to, being the sole benefactor and organiser, but my heart just ached for her because i knew what that felt like. it doesn't feel fair, you feel way too young to be losing someone like this... but you have to do it. you have to.

i don't really know how to end this. but it's been on my mind for a while and i wanted to share my impressions... maybe someone else feels similarly. if you read all of this, thank you. make sure to tell people you love them 💛

[fire-branded]

8 & 14

8. What makes you stray away from canon material and base your character, in case of canon muse, on your own headcanons?

A lack of detail, most of all. If canon gives me the barest bones of information to work with, I will run with that sliver of info, dive into Headcanon Land, and never look back.

Or canonical details that I feel don't line up well enough with other details established in the content(game, in this case), things that come across to me as contradictory, things that I don't personally feel comfortable with utilizing(especially when it comes to ages of characters), or information presented in the Ultimania that don't make sense with what we know from the game itself. Because for me, the game's lore takes precedence over an outside source like the Ultimania. (Though no shade to anyone who does choose to use its info.)

That and just... the general notion of adding a personalized touch to my blorbo, you know? I do try to use canon material as at the very least a basic foundation and build off of it, but sometimes there's not enough background information, so you just have to fill in all of the details yourself.

Especially when the character you're playing as dies within the first like fifteen to twenty minutes of the fucking game, and you learn more about him through other characters than through actually ever having gotten to know him through seeing him.

14. What is the most annoying fact or trait or fanon that is attached to your muse and bothers you?

I ... admittedly have no idea. I never kept up with fandom opinions outside of my little corner here on Tumblr. Like, I'm sure Twitter and Reddit and whatnot have A Lot to say regarding him as a person, regarding his parenting, regarding his rulership over Rosaria, etc.

There is one fact that bothers me, even though I can see where people get the idea from overall despite me disliking the theory. And that's the theory that Elwin and Hanna Murdoch were having an affair behind Anabella(and Rodney too I guess?)'s back.

I can, again, understand where the theory comes from, despite heavily hating it. I don't hate it purely because of my personal feelings towards adultery; I just don't see it as a proven fact. The absence of evidence does not make evidence. We don't see enough of Elwin and Anabella on a personal, more intimate level to know what their relationship was like behind closed doors. We know Anabella was pissed at Elwin, yeah -- but again, in my personal opinion, her grievances sounded more directed at his method of and priority while ruling(putting the people first, and their territory/land second), and the decisions he made combined with his ambitions for the duchy's future. Her remarks in her Inner Thoughts thing are surprisingly neutral, with statements like, "My husband, for better or worse" and ... I forgot what exactly the one with Phoenix Gate was, but it read to me like, "Nothing personal, kid".

We also know that Elwin is very big on being an honorable, just, compassionate, and duty-driven man, and I personally doubt that excludes in his personal/familial life.

Again, these are all my personal views and interpretations.

Even the fact that Hanna still had Elwin's old outfit and whatnot doesn't automatically spell "cheating" to me, considering the home is the Murdoch's home, and Elwin and his family visited Eastpool to spend time with the Murdochs there every summer, where the description says Elwin left the clothes there to wear every time he returned to Eastpool on vacation. It screams of sentimentality to me, of the same intense grief and not wanting to move on that Hanna also shows towards Rodney. She still wears her wedding band, even nervously fidgets with it when she talks about Rodney having died at Phoenix Gate. The fact that she never moved away from Eastpool to seek refuge in Rosalith, didn't even move out of the Murdoch's home... The fact that she was selling other items from the house and family to take care of the people of Eastpool and the displaced Bearers, but never sold her wedding band, Elwin's clothes(including the Metian Bonds, which were forged for Elwin by his dad when Elwin came of age, as was tradition. They probably would have sold for a pretty penny.), or Invictus -- which was Rodney's sword.

She held on to these specific items that had been important to the two men, in my belief because of the strong emotional attachment she has to those items -- because those items are the only things she has left of Rodney and Elwin.

Oh god I rambled I AM SO SORRY.

[lillianofliterature]

hi lillian! i hope this isn't too intrusive (feel free to disregard) but i saw your post about losing your great-grandmother. how are you? i hope you're feeling a little better and, if not, i hope you're holding up as well as you can<3

thank you so much for checking in on me, anon! it really means a lot. i'm doing as well as i can, but it is the most intense grief i have yet faced. she spent over a decade looking after me and my brother while our single mother was working during the week, essentially helping raise us, and it was very jarring to lose a very close motherly figure so suddenly. the pandemic kept us apart, so we weren't able to be around her very much the last few years, which made the goodbye less shocking but made the guilt worse. anyway, it's just tough stuff to deal with, but i really am managing alright.

i don't know if you believe in this sort of thing, and honestly i'm not even sure what i believe exactly, but she always had a connection to animals (cats specifically) and throughout my childhood always talked about how she would like to be reincarnated as a cat. when she was unresponsive in hospice, the last night i saw her alive, i asked her to find a way to come back and tell us hello, either as a cat or a butterfly---two symbols that have a meaningful history in our family.

on the day of her funeral, a yellow butterfly (specifically a tiger swallowtail, one of her favorites) flew around my shoulder and inches from my face while i watched her casket being lowered next to my great-grandfather.

two months later, on this most recent halloween night, a litter of kittens were randomly running around in our front year during trick-or-treat hours. they came and inspected our porch decorations and left, and an hour later, another one came back and sauntered right up our porch and into our kitchen while we were handing out candy!

now, for context, my parents and i always feed the stray cats, so we're used to seeing quite a few and recognize them easily. but we had never seen these kittens before, nor had any of our frequent strays ever appeared pregnant over the last six months. we believe the litter was dumped in our neighborhood on halloween due to their black coats (black cats unfortunately are treated very ill this time of year due to ridiculous negative superstitions).

we decided to keep the little one that walked into our house--i do believe it was a sign, both from the little kitty wanting a home and also from my great-grandmother saying she heard me while i visited her in hospice although she couldn't speak. unfortunately, we didn't see the other kittens again, despite trying! we're keeping an eye out for them so we can rescue them if possible.

anyway, the kitty is a little boy, he has beautiful black fur and golden brown/yellow eyes, a perfect halloween cat. and i named him Severus (yes, after Snape, lol). i'll include some pictures! he's five months old and has a clean bill of health, despite some tummy issues. he's the most affectionate and clingy cat i've ever met, and i can't believe he's ours. i absolutely adore him and he's given me more energy to keep going and be excited about getting up every day.

sometimes when he looks at me, i swear i see my grandmother looking back, but not always (which makes me believe it more in those little glimpses).

so, all this to say, i'm doing better now, although my grief isn't linear. i think the best thing that's helped me is choosing to recognize the little signs i do believe our loved ones can send us beyond the grave. i don't know how it works or what it means for those of us who are still living, but i do know there is truth to some sort of existence beyond the physically tangible, and that gives me hope. <3

[ambarto]

I love arospec Finduilas! I’d love to read your thoughts on it if you’re interested in writing them! Your blog is great 💚

-@outofangband

Hi thank you! Honestly I see Finduilas as either quoiro or freyro (I do have a short freyromantic Finduilas fic I wrote for aspec arda week a couple years ago). Partially because I find it compelling that Elves are very big on monogamy and all and Finduilas is I think the only Elf we see actively fall out of love with someone. So I really like the idea of Finduilas either being unable to recognize romantic feelings, or having romantic feelings that come and go, it would add an additional sparkle of angst to her story to have her confused by her own feelings.

I also see Finduilas as being fairly young when she died, kind of the equivalent of 20 years old or so, and having not yet had time to figure out her identity entirely by then. I do think she cared a lot about Gwindor, possibly being attracted to him in some way, and him being captured would have been devastating for her. However, this also gave her... I don't want to say an excuse not to examine her feelings further, more like that grief is grief and she would have had no reason to pick apart if what she felt had been romantic or not.

Then when Gwindor came back there was Turin too. If we go with freyromantic Finduilas, her developing a crush on Turin could have been in her mind more of a reason for not loving Gwindor anymore than simply falling out of love. She could have told herself she hadn't just stopped loving him, she just had a new man she was attracted to. Plus for freyromantics feelings fade once you have established an emotional connection to someone, and we know what Turin was like, he was too busy running from his past and being secretive about it might have kept him from developing his relationship with others in Nargothrond. Despite technically knowing him, he might have remained the mysterious brooding semi-stranger for ages, and that could have meant Finduilas kept her feeling longer.

Now if we look at quoiromantic Finduilas instead, in that case she might have felt curious about Turin or felt a strong more platonic attraction to him, and not recognized what she was feeling. Maybe her interest in Turin, who was a new person she didn't know, could have felt more intense than her affection for Gwindor. She might have even felt kind of the same way about Gwindor before they had gotten engaged. So she just mixed things up.

And now I'm also thinking of lithromantic Finduilas that would be very neat too.

Anyways I'm also a fan of Finduilas finally getting the life she deserved once she comes back from Mandos. She can grow a bit wiser in Valinor, get to know herself better, understand her orientation. Not to mention, Finduilas was born and lived in a war, and I'm sure that also gave her a sense of urgency and of having to hold on to what she had while she had it. Getting engaged to Gwindor young because they both knew they could be killed any day and all of that. In Valinor she can get to relax and slow down, and that could also give her the chance of thinking more deeply about herself.

[whump-ghoul]

Whump Month #18: Homesick

For @cirrus-ghoulette’s Whump month!

Summary: Marlowe (OC) watches the ghouls play and begins to miss his siblings. Cirrus comforts him.

Warnings: Grief/Sibling Loss /Death

WC: 2178

Marlowe couldn’t help but observe from the edges like a secret bystander indulging in everyday, domestic life.

They reminded him of his siblings, perhaps a little too much.

It was a beautiful late-spring day, the temperatures already on the rise and the flora in full bloom. Duties had ceased for the early evening, many siblings finding themselves outside to enjoy the sun just as the ghouls did. Naturally, the humans and ghouls kept to themselves, but as always Marlowe found himself pulled towards them.

In a grass clearing, close to the greenhouse, most of the ghouls were engaged in an intense game of catch. Noticeably, Cumulus and Cirrus weren’t present, though the Bishop supposed this was due to their keyboard practice running late. He should know, as an assistant to the Clergy despite his title, he was always neck-deep in scheduling.

As he watched, Marlowe realized they had spun the rules to suit themselves, which ended with Dew tactfully sliding between Mountain's legs in order to pass the ball to Rain. Rain was preparing to move towards Aether but was ultimately tackled by Sunshine, their uniform grass-stained and a gap-toothed smile breaking their face in two.

They looked so much like his sister - short, curled hair included.

She was a carefree child, always with a tooth missing and a cheeky smile that meant he couldn’t stay mad at her for long. Unlike their brother, she was always covered in dirt or dust from whatever she had been up to, and Marlowe remembered the nights he spent trying to scrub paint out of her robes while listening to his brother recite the texts for an upcoming test.

Incidentally, like Marlowe’s brother, Mountain wasn’t quite aware of his own height or strength, therefore Marlowe’s heart stopped when he accidentally sent Dewdrop flying.

The fire ghoul recovered quickly however, as though it were nothing, and it was Rain who was first at his side, before Mountain was there spurting apologies. Dewdrop shrugged them off however, the ball somehow in his hands again as he cackled and struck the back of the earth ghouls knee and made a break for it. Laughter echoed across the clearing as the pack of ghouls charged after him.

Marlowe’s heart ached as he watched them go, rounding the ministry walls as Dewdrop had enacted a full-on chase, Siblings had to dive out of the way of the ghouls or risk getting plowed into. The Bishop considered following them, to see where they went from the fear of missing out, though his feet remained cemented to the green grass beneath his dress shoes. His chest felt tight; a familiar twinge in his throat.

“Come on Marlowe, you never want to play!”

“You have enough people on your team already, Val. I’ll be watching, I promise.”

Maybe he should have followed; joined in when he had the chance.

“Keep up, Marlowe!”

“Please be careful, Leo, I don’t want you to fall.”

A loud cackle of laughter caught his attention, and his head snapped towards the source. Along the treeline, a small cluster of siblings of sin were intrigued by an older sibling reading to them. The sight of the warn book and dog eared pages brought forth a wave of longing. The echoes of past fairy tales resounded in his mind, as though his siblings were still there, waiting for him to read the next chapter to them.

“Please, Marlowe, one more chapter, I promise I’ll go to sleep after!”

Without the company of others, he found himself lost in thought, withdrawn into his own world. The laughter and banter of the siblings and ghouls surrounding him was both a comfort and a reminder of what he had lost, and Marlowe couldn't help but wonder how life would have unfolded had his sibling still been by his side - what adventures they would have embarked on, and what secrets they would have shared.

To Marlowe, grief had become an ever-present companion, ebbing and flowing with each passing day. It manifested as a weight upon his hollow chest; a constant ache in his heart. But amidst the pain, he clung fiercely to the memories that bound them together. In moments of solitude, he sought solace in his memories - the last remnants he had of them as physical momentos were lost in the fire that claimed their lives. He often wondered what they would look like now, several years later. He wondered what his family would look like, if it were complete.

Behind him, a ghoulette approached.

Two hands snaked around his waist, coming to rest just above his stomach as he was pulled into a taller frame. He let his head drop back against the beating heart that had come to rescue him from his thoughts. He had recognised her in an instant.

“What’s on your mind, Bishop?” Cirrus asked into his hair, her long fingers toying with the sash of his cassock.

“Home.” He murmured. Because wherever his siblings were, that's where he considered home. He’d moved enough in his lifetime, therefore designating a person as a place was his best chance at feeling grounded; feeling whole.

“How so?” She pressed, inviting him to sit in the grass with her. He complied, and began picking at the blades, just as the ghouls came charging round the opposite corner. This time, Aether and Mountain were using their height advantage to pass the ball between them, as the shorter ghouls pouted and launched themselves to intercept it as they moved. They settled back to play in the clearing they began in, Marlowe and Cirrus situated near the paving stones that led to the greenhouse.

“My siblings were much like this. Always fighting but always inseparable… always driving me insane.”

“What are they like?” Cirrus asked, reclining to bask in the sunshine.

Marlowe paused. She hadn’t caught the past-tense and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to-

“Your siblings.” Cirrus prompted softly. Marlowe closed his eyes, claiming the action to be because of the sun. He supposed he needed this.

“What would you like to know?” His voice was a rasp, his heart stuttering.

“Their names would be a good start.”

Marlowe huffed a small laugh, a smile barely gracing his lips as their names sat on the tip of his tongue, just as they remained at the forefront of his mind.

“Valdes and Cornelius.” Marlowe admitted with a slight flourish. Cirrus snorted, though slammed a hand over her mouth, catching her flesh with her fangs as she did. Marlowe craned his head towards her, eyeing the ghoulette with a smirk on his lips.

“What’s so funny?” He asked playfully.

“Nothing.” She said, but the tightness to her voice revealed otherwise.

“You can laugh at their names, I do.” He snorted. “It’s Val and Leo for short.”

“It’s just… many humans have such funny names.” She thought for a moment. “Stephen, Amelia, Craig.”

“Laugh all you want, but you and Cumulus are literally named after clouds.” Marlowe said, as though it were well-known.

“What?”

Marlowe lifted his head again.

“No one told you?”

“No!”

“Oh.” Apparently it wasn’t common knowledge, then.

Marlowe dropped his head, adding under his breath:. “If it helps, they are very pretty clouds. Powerful, but beautiful.”

He saw Cirrus blush despite herself.

“What are you named after?” She asked.

He thought of all the ways he could tell her; explain his story to her. But his words caught on the back of his throat, refusing to budge no matter how much he yearned to explain himself. His name meant explaining his family, as discussing his siblings was more draining than he’d like to admit. Under his gloves, his scars pulsed in phantom pain.

“It’s sort of long story.” He settled on, mentally trying to produce the too-long-didn’t-read version for when she inevitably pressed.

Cirrus leaned closer, her eyes full of curiosity and a gentle understanding.

"I have time." she said softly, her voice a soothing melody that wrapped around Marlowe's troubled heart. "I want to hear your story, Marlowe. I want to know everything about you."

Marlowe took a deep breath, feeling a surge of vulnerability mixed with a glimmer of hope. He had carried the weight of his past for so long, and now he had someone willing to listen, to share in his burdens and his joys. He glanced at the ghouls playing in the clearing, their laughter and carefree spirits a reminder of the innocence he had lost.

"Well, you see," Marlowe began, his voice steady but tinged with nostalgia, "My nickname derived from an old English writer, of whom my parents were fans of. Us kids were all named after characters from his adaptation of the Faust legend. They were named after scholars and I… the demon from hell.”

He cringed. “Sometimes I wonder about changing it. But then it wouldn’t fit my job description, would it? Nominative determinism and all that.”

Cirrus nodded, her fingers still playing with the loose end of the sash of his cassock, her second-hand touch grounding him in the present moment.

"But my siblings liked to learn. They had to find meaning behind every word," he continued, a wistful smile playing at the corners of his lips.

“Valdes, my sister, researched our names. She didn’t want to be known as the kid with pretentious parents, no. Her name means 'brave'. She was always the fearless one, ready to take on any challenge with a mischievous glint in her eyes. And Cornelius, my brother, his name means 'steadfast.' He was the rock in our trio, the one who held us together with his unwavering loyalty and love but was stubborn as all hell. I won’t tell you how long it took me to train him out of nappies or do his homework. Val brought out the worst in him, but also the best.”

They didn’t need me. Even in the end they were brave and stubborn.

Cirrus listened intently, her gaze unwavering and full of warmth.

"You raised them?” She asked softly.

“I- yeah," Marlowe replied, his voice filled with both sadness and fondness. "Parents weren’t really around and there was an age gap. There were nine years between me and Leo and twelve between be and Val. They’re my kids.”

“Your parents… are they…”

He shrugged. They left just after Vals first birthday.

“It was just me and the kids. We were a team; a trio bound by blood. It was us against the world.”

Cirrus reached out and gently clasped Marlowe's gloved hand, her touch a comforting anchor in his stormy sea of emotions. He knew she knew, but admitting their deaths would never get easier. Instead, Marlowe nodded, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. It had been years since the fire, and even longer since his parents left, but the ache never truly disappeared. Sometimes, it felt like they were still with him, guiding him and egging him to keep going. But other times... it felt like they were slipping further and further away, fading into the depths of his memories.

And it terrified him.

Cirrus squeezed his hand, a silent gesture of support. "Tell me more about Val and Leo. What were they like?"

A tender smile bloomed on Marlowe's face, and he closed his eyes, allowing himself to be transported back to the memories that fueled his soul.

“Valdes had an infectious laugh. It could brighten the gloomiest of days and bring a smile to anyone's face. She was adventurous from the start, always seeking out new experiences and dragging us along with her. Well, mainly dragging Leo into trouble with the Clergy of our old Abbey. And Leo, well, he was incredibly intelligent, always studying and absorbing knowledge like a sponge. Always asking why.”

“Marlowe, where’s mum and dad?”

“They’ve… gone away.”

“Why?”

“They both had a terrifying mischievous streak. I’m reminded of it with Dew and Sunny’s pranks.”

It was painful to see so much of them in the ghouls...

Cirrus chuckled softly, her laughter a gentle breeze that danced around them. "They sound wonderful, Marlowe.”

…but at the same time, they kept their memories alive. They formed his new family in whom he could trust and love. Marlowe opened his eyes, gazing at Cirrus with gratitude and a newfound sense of connection.

"Thank you, Cirrus." I just wish they could’ve met you.

Cirrus leaned in, pressing a soft kiss on Marlowe's cheek.

"The packs here for you, always.”

Marlowe's heart swelled with a mix of emotion: grief, love, and a glimmer of hope. In that moment, surrounded by laughter and the warmth of Cirrus by his side, he realized that healing was not a far-fetched fantasy - and that even in the face of loss, there could be new beginnings. And together, they would create their own story, one that honored the past and embraced the future-

The ball hit the ground with a thud and rolled towards them, stopping inches from Marlowe’s feet. He looked to Cirrus, then to the ghouls stalking towards it like prey.

He grabbed the ball and stood.

It would be rude not to

[kanside]

sentimental things

feel free not to read, this little entry is kindof a bummer

my grandma and grandpa on my moms side, my oma and opa on my dads side.

i try to think of the gifts they gave to me beyond money, physical items.

ill be blunt, i dont know any of them well. my grandpa is a bit creepy, missing a chunk of his brain, a classic narcissist, perhaps one of the only people i consider a lost cause. i still wish i had a grandpa though. of the few times i remember seeing his bashed in creepy face, his eyes always seemed sweet. despite the horror stories ive always been told about his actions and failures as a parent and grandparent.

i havent seen any of my grandparents on either side in a long time.

my grandma has cancer bummer i tried reaching out to her, she never understood me being trans but always respected it. we simply never got to talk much.

i couldnt hold a conversation with her. even now she ghosts my mom about her condition. i dont think she'll make it long. i dont know how to feel about that lol

ive never had to deal with the concept of grief before. ive tried talking about it, but nobody really understands. i got lucky, i guess. the only grief i knew was people willingly leaving me due to my own bad actions. i never knew anyone i loved or wanted to love who was torn away by death. i had a dog once, her name was chewie. but i was too young to understand the connection i couldve formed with her. she didnt like living with us, so we gave her to grandma and grandpa and she lived and died with them. i didnt grieve. i felt bad, i worried for my sibling's grief, but i didnt experience what everyone calls grief. i just moved on, cus i hadnt had anything else to do.

i dont understand grief, i dont understand what it feels like and i dont understand how to cope with it. i dont understand how to support people going through grief. and i dont know how i feel about my grandmother dying. because she is, and i wish she wasnt, but she's a smoker and my parents are smokers and we all know that at a certain point when you smoke too much you either get cancer or you dont, and once you have cancer theres no getting rid of it for good, i think.

i dont know if what im experiencing is a sort of grief, or perhaps my body warning me. saying "hey. your mom is grieving. shes going to grieve more. thats her mother dying, thats your mother's mother you never got a chance to understand in your adulthood and befriend. that's a person in the wrong place at the wrong time. surrounded by the wrong people and down the wrong path. yet she kept trying her best and supporting the best she could, even though your mother says she didnt do enough."

maybe its missing out. jealousy maybe? thats a little fucked up lol. i just want to understand. i just want to be prepared, because i know death and grief comes to everyone, and i dont have room to be unprepared for such a thing.

im a little off track

recently (well actually not recently, my time streams a little fucked. im not remembering in the right order. it was actually a long time ago i think. earlier this year) my mom went a trip. she brought me back a few trinkets, a few amethyst necklaces she picked up from some street shop. i dont like jewlery, it feels suffocating. it feels unnatural and weird.

but my perception changed. i really like when that happens. i really like my brain accepting new things. i began wearing the necklace nonstop. i tricked my own anxiety, i said "this necklace is a barrier, it is protection. i wear this and it channels the love of my own mother. it is a shield." the only time i didnt wear it was when i showered. i think i even wore it at the amusement park, but i dont remember. i stopped having dreams. i still dont know how to feel about that. i like dreams, but i also dont like them. they were becoming disruptive, distracting. now i could control when i had them. i could control how strong they were. at first they were intense and overbearing, but the longer i wore the necklace the more they subsided.

but i wasnt getting good sleep, at least not recently. i suppose i got overwhelmed with the feeling, irritated. now i take the necklace off at night and i dream. not much makes sense in my dreams, but i started doing therapy again, so i suppose it cant hurt to get lost in my head now and then.

im off track again

gifts

when i was really really little, i assume, too little to remember. my oma would make little gifts. a part of me likes it a lot more than money, but i know that physical things are too precious and too short lived, and they always end up collecting dust in my closet because i have no space in my room and my mind to have them.

she liked to sew little things together. i have a pillowcase with my deadname on it, its pink and cute. its started to fall apart

there are holes and rips in it. it is tearing to bits. but i have three pillows, and third pillow on the top right under my head must have oma's pillowcase. i dont know if its the unwillingness to let things go, even temporarily, but i still want to sleep with it even if it needs repairs or is unsalvagable.

my mom said "if its so sentimental then just store it away, we have more pillowcases" i responded, in another room by myself, when i thought up a better thing to say: "when you dont have people in your life, sentimental things mean more."

i dont know if thats the right way to word it. i dont have a good memory, i lose people regularly. not to death, but to time. to mistakes and growth and moving on. there are images of people in my closet from early days in school that i just know meant so much to me, but i dont know their names. i dont remember their voices. i dont know what they meant to me. i cant even grieve. the weight on my heart is not sadness, but a sort of confusion? like wonder, maybe. "i wonder what we were. i wonder what we could've been."

well, its whatever. life moves on. i will continue to dream and get lost in my thoughts. i will continue to fantasize about an unlikely future where i build a nice little cob house on a family farm and live off of the land that is totally not dying by man's hand. i will avoid the definition of feelings i do not understand, like grief, and wait until i learn the hard way. the hard way is the only way i've ever willingly learned, after all.

[writingsiewmai]

It's been a while since i last used this blog for anything cos i stopped thinking about my OCs for a while. BUT i saw this one prompt of "get to know your OCs as 1) a child 2) a teen 3) an adult"

And somehow im just really excited. I have a ton of OCs tbh and nothing will make sense to anyone here since I don't really talk about them they just exist in my head. BUT ANYWAY.

The Very Sorry Series

My most dysfunctional children (affectionate). Conceived when my brain was majorly fucked in one way. (Differently fucked today)

Haley

As a child: Grew up in a villain lair, following her mom around like a terrified duckling, silently absorbing literally everything around her like a sponge

As a teen: academically excellent, incredible at masking already at this point, still largely quiet, mother has lost it and around this point has been instilling in her the idea of Villain Excellence and finishing what her mother started

As an adult: fully functional on the outside and completely dysfuntional on the inside, full on villainy and wrecking shit and getting insanely bruised up but then turning up to her senior management job the next morning with full-face makeup as if there's nothing wrong, all her villain activity are basically dramatic self-harm and suicide attempts (shhhh dont tell anyone that)

Justin

As a child: sunshiney and cute, many kisses to his puffy little cheeks, daring and adventurous, already has powers but no one really figures it out for some reason

As a teen: constantly failing class, trying hard at everything but only thing he is good at are his powers, which he tries not to use all the time. Except there's this villain in town who keeps disturbing the peace... so he steps up once in a while

As an adult: unable to hold a single job or partner, his best friend is his biggest nemesis, he basically borrows her money all the time because he literally cannot hold down the fort by himself, he is beside himself with grief because he doesn't know how he can continue living as someone who basically cannot function in society, despite society needing him to save it

Dave

As a child: high awareness, already noticed a lot of people who treat him like he's stupid (calls him a r*tard), has dyslexia, already liked drawing, had loving parents (oh wow revolutionary) but he kept a lot of things to himself so unresolved issues

As a teen: more drawing, the ArtTM kid, develops intense crushes on the Baddest Girl in school, was a sorta sweater geek, a little bit bullied in school but not target practice, timid but kind, does not see much worth in himself

As an adult: comic book artist, very last-minute with his work, insanely in love with his next door neighbour who can clearly kick his ass (somehow gets even more obsessed with her after finding her bleeding out in villain costume), still timid and still kind, still near zero self-worth

Kirsten

As a child: knew she was trans, very oddball and offputting child, would eat bugs and is fascinated with all those "horrible history" books and stuff like that

As a teen: crazy vibes, people steered clear away from her, knew of haley and thought she was your average top scorer, beginning to dabble in tons of home experiments and stuff, halfway through transition but also uhhh it's almost all home-made or villain-adjacent-sourced

As an adult: transitioned and incredibly happy with all the self-modifications she's done, is The Villain Scientist (you cant be in the villain industry and not know her), weirdly enough the most functional person in this series because at least she has no self-harming/deprecating behaviours, very worried about every single one of her friends though because none of them are doing well, still a Weird Girl though

Grown to love water

Conceived during the period I was figuring out asexuality (and looking back, aromanticism), also body negativity stuff. But yeah, my softest most painful boys

Leon

As a child: happy little selkie child, loved by his community, big dreams of going to the surface, a bit of a romantic who dreams of a very traditional selkie romance (all the pelt stuff)

As a teen: first gf! Very nervous and giggly child, things are going well but he slowly gets very insecure about his body which causes him to distance from his gf, gf breaks up with him bc he isnt fulfilling much of her (sexual and emotional) needs and he just keeps backing off

As a young adult: (bc this story goes through a lot of phases) is in the surface world but at what cost? At the peak of his insecurity and low self-worth, hes a round guy (selkie blessings and human... not-so-blessings), awkward nerd, studies marine biology (for some reason??? Idk why, today, i'd say hes a geology major), MAJOR depression, intensely insecure about being a virgin for some reason and would do literally *anything* to lose it (except going out to meet people) until one day he meets a siren and is like: I'll let you eat me if you fuck me

As an older adult: still sorta depressed but he's recovering, no longer a virgin yay, much more secure in himself though, (mostly) knows hes a fricking gem, still chubby (important), also has a beautiful siren sorta-husband??? It's complicated lol but they have rings and stuff

Devon

As a child: smart, pretty, fawned over because hes a rare male siren, smug little bastard who knows he can get away with most things because he's cute

As a teen: started with the siren stuff, majorly fucked up because of that, welp he frequently has pedos for lunch i guess, notices differences between himself and most other people, oh oops! He can't love!, no new connections with others

As a young adult: loves to flirt and fuck around, still knows he can get away with most shit, same major as leon, knows the massive crush Leon has on him and takes advantage of it, a bit frustrated that Leon never rises to the bait so he can't eat him (but only because Leon never thinks the flirting is real), grows a soft spot for Leon as a friend

As an older adult: is leon's sorta-husband, loves Leon in his own way and enjoys the stability that Leon offers, still out there knowing he can get away with most shit, no longer fucking any of the men he eats anymore because he has a very horny selkie to satisfy, would love to be a trophy husband but unfortunately works to pay the rent, very touchy and constantly stirs Leon up on purpose, loves feeling loved

[vivacissimx]

can you expand on rhaenyra's maladaptive relationships

re: this post

Sure! So this is book canon obviously, but Rhaenyra as a child is described as precocious, bright, appropriately socialized, and we see that she's able to adapt to life after her mother who doted on her passed away (excited about a tourney, being involved in her father's second marriage celebrations). She does well at her job as a cupbearer. All good and normal development.

A few years following Viserys I's marriage to Alicent Hightower, we find that she has become intensely attached to Criston Cole (only had eyes for him) despite being mocked for it by Alicent and having other suitors. She grows up in a court where grown noblefolk whisper against her claim & she knows it. Dresses dramatically to make a statement due to the breakdown in communication between her and Alicent/Viserys, she's also seemingly unable to bond with her siblings. When Daemon returns to King's Landing, Rhaenyra is adamant that he stay, and whatever happened between them it's clear that she at least strongly attached herself to him. This is all intense stuff, her all or nothing attitude to relationships, & the result of growing up in a less than united home where her place was uncertain.

I wouldn't call Rhaenyra's triangle with Laenor & Harwin maladaptive today, but for the time period it is a bit of malicious compliance. Viserys orders her to get married, claim her seat on Dragonstone, and multiply? No problem *has 3 kids with Harwin* (best boys in the world btw). Harwin is at least somewhat emotionally entangled there, rumored to be by her side in the birthing chambers and spending his time at her keep despite being heir to Harrenhal, but Rhaenyra's feelings for him are conspicuously absent. So was it love? A bit of a fuck you? A nervous latching onto Harwin? Maybe some of each.

Rhaenyra does have nervous ticks & anxiety as well, ofc.

Her bodice often glittered with pearls and diamonds, and there were always rings on her fingers. Whenever she was anxious, she would turn them compulsively, round and round. Though Rhaenyra could be charming, she was quick to anger and never forgot a slight. --SSM

Anxiety, anger issues, basically maladaptive behaviors that indicate all the uncertainty of her position in the realm & in her family taking a toll on her.

Daemon is obviously the most intense relationship of them all; even after claiming Dragonstone Rhaenyra always kept him close and Laena dies it's implied they fall into bed with each other very fast. Part of a pattern where Rhaenyra never stays single long (in general periods when people go through romantic/sexual partners in rapid succession aren't during the most stable moments in their lives). A fear of being alone doesn't mean she doesn't love her partners but it presents a question mark

Daemon is a combination of everything--her family like Viserys, her husband like Laenor, her lover like Harwin, their shared grief over Laena. This is a headcanon but I think Daemon knows all that & that Rhaenyra and Daemon had a push-pull thing with control. Rhaenyra sending Daemon to kill Vaemond Velaryon. Daemon sleeping with Mysaria under her nose. Rhaenyra saying it's fine cause she's busy ruling. Daemon taking vengeance for Lucerys into his own hands in a very... flashy manner. Rhaenyra summoning him whenever she had a need. She did that back-and-forth before with Viserys as well, considering that Viserys was constantly giving her & Alicent gifts/honors etc to appease them, as proof of his love.

King Viserys loved both his wife and daughter, and hated conflict and contention. He strove all his days to keep the peace between his women, and to please both with gifts and gold and honors. --F&B: Heirs of the Dragon

There's a lot said about her stress-eating once she takes the throne, isolating herself in the Red Keep, having her children at her side 24/7 after losing several sons, her sudden flip in trust in the dragonseeds when Mysaria advises her to and is once of the only councilors left to her (which probably led Rhaenyra to placing more trust in her that she should have). In case I haven't stressed it enough, Rhaenyra doesn't do well alone! She relies on her supporters because she learned to at a young age, is hypersensitive to the thought of losing them, and has explosive reactions to betrayal.

It's not that any of these things are 'unreasonable,' it's just that they're all learned behaviors that are not random nor do they arise for no reason. Rhaenyra is a survivor, with all that implies. Her story very much reflects that.

[p1x3l-h3arts]

Hero’s Depressive Episode

Out of all the characters I was the most anxious about seeing their reaction to the truth, it was Hero. BUUUT since the ending is left open ended, I thought I’d draw my boyfriend and I’s headcanon as to how he would deal with that bombshell. Which I will be explaining down below 👇

It’s no secret that after Mari’s death, Hero fell into a huge depression. He eventually got himself functioning again and busied himself constantly as a way to cope, but we see that even 4 years later, he still feels this intense sadness whenever Mari is mentioned. Though he tries to brush it off and change the subject.

After Sunny finally reveals the truth, I like to think all of the grief he’s tried suppressing for years comes bubbling up at the surface. But it’s so much at once that his depression gets triggered and he shuts down. He feels relief that Mari’s “suicide” had nothing to do with him, yet also intense anger that Basil and Sunny kept what really occurred a secret for so long, and also a lot of sadness over, sadness for the two boys for all of the turmoil they went through silently in those 4 years, and lastly overall horror and despair over the entire fiasco.

After they leave the hospital, Hero ends up spiraling. The more he tries to avoid and ignore his grief, the worse his mental state gets. He loses sleep, his appetite, and overall starts forgetting to take care of himself again due to the depression brain fog. Kel expresses a lot of concern and checks up on him frequently. After all, he witnessed this same behavior back when Mari first passed. It pains him to see his big bro in such a state.

But since Kel unfortunately isn’t the best at talking about complex feelings and mental health issues, he calls an unlikely friend to get to the nitty gritty of Hero’s plight: Aubrey.

I like to think that Aubrey’s pretty emotionally intelligent when it comes to other people(as long as her own emotions aren’t distorting her perception). And back when all of them were still close as children, Hero being the peace-maker and big brother figure to her probably taught her how to properly articulate and describe how and why she’s feeling a certain way.

Aubrey most likely reacted poorly to the truth initially and took time to cool off and think. But was able to empathize with Sunny since she nearly went through the same thing by lashing out and pushing Basil in the lake. And when she finally confronts Hero, she successfully gets him to open up.

Hero had tried numbing himself and avoiding his emotions about the truth because he had fear that if he let his emotions run, he’d never be ok and he wouldn’t be able to forgive Sunny or Basil. Aubrey tries to reassure him that he’s allowed to feel angry and betrayed, that running from it would never help.

After all, you can’t really control how you feel, but you can control your actions.

Even if Hero really wouldn’t be able to forgive them, she proposes that he would at least have to get along with them. Since they both know that despite everything, Mari would hate for the group to completely fall apart.

[wandaromanova]

Can you do a fluffy wanda one (with a little angst because of course) where reader and wanda are best friends, reader wants more, but thinks wanda is interested in vision so she doesnt say anything. And then one day a mission goes wrong, and reader gets into an accident that results in her getting powers, and it makes wanda wake up and confess her feelings?

Requited Love

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: cussing, injury, that’s all!

A/N: hello! i hope you enjoy what i’ve created out of your request, anon! sorry i couldn’t think about how i could incorporate the powers part of the request! not proofread, so i apologize for any grammatical errors! join my taglist here <3

Summary: Wanda Maximoff and Y/N L/N are your typical best friends who refuse to admit their feelings for each other.

Word Count: 3.3K (had a lil too much fun with this)

(gif is not mine)

You and your best friend, Wanda, had been friends practically since the moment she had joined the team. Being the youngest Avenger, you were so excited that there would finally be another member that was close to your age. Despite the events of Sokovia, you didn’t fear the woman. If anything, it only made the urge to get closer to her stronger.

Her powers absolutely mesmerized you. From the color of her powers to the different ways she could use them to her advantage; it was mind blowing how much power she had literally at her fingertips. As time went on, you and Wanda became very close. You’d always have movie nights together in your room, which eventually led to the Sokovian woman peacefully sleeping next to you in your bed.

Not only was Wanda drop dead gorgeous, but she was genuine and humble. She had confided in you about the many different traumas she had been through and expressed how the surreal amount of grief constantly consumed her. It broke your heart to know that such an amazing person was put through so much.

Her past could’ve easily turned her into a villain, but she decided to go the opposite direction. She came to the conclusion that her powers could help others and that’s what she had chosen to do in Sokovia and up to now. It was why she had agreed to join the Avengers in the first place. Wanda knew how awful the world could be and she wanted to be there for people the way that her family had been before they passed. The amount of respect you had for Wanda was immeasurable.

Over the span of two years, you and Wanda became joined to the hip. Wanda didn’t even sleep in her own bed anymore. Before, she would just accidentally fall asleep in your room or sneak into your room in the late hours of the night to sleep with you. But now, she just barged into your room every night and slept there. She said that you kept the nightmares she had at bay and you were more than happy to be there for her if it meant she got a full night’s rest.

You both jumped at any opportunity you guys could to be on the same mission as the other. You not only wanted to spend time with her, but you wanted to protect her. Lord knows that Wanda of all people could handle herself, but it kept you at peace when you were with her; knowing that she had you to back her up. Naturally, you fell in love with your best friend.

At first, you thought you were just confusing your special platonic friendship with Wanda for romantic feelings. But sometimes you caught yourself wanting to kiss Wanda. You knew damn well that friends don’t daydream about making out with each other. So, yeah, you definitely had feelings for Wanda, but there was one thing standing in your way; Vision.

Vision basically joined the team at the same time Wanda did. He was created during the Ultron situation and has been an Avenger since then. Wanda and Vision were very close. They weren’t as close as you and Wanda were, but he was a close second. They had a bond over the mind stone that you couldn’t ever compete with. This fact discouraged you and forced you to keep your mouth shut. You’d rather keep your feelings to yourself and suffer in private than risk your friendship with Wanda.

I mean, you didn’t even know if Wanda was into girls! She could be as straight as a wooden ruler and you would most definitely embarrass yourself if you told her. Vision wasn’t exactly a man by any means, he was a robot. If Wanda were to like Vision that must mean you had a chance right? Not to be an ass, but he’s literally a hunk of metal. Regardless of all these thoughts, you knew at the end of the day that you would have to hide your feelings for the sake of maintaining the relationship you currently have with the Sokovian.

You did pretty good at hiding your feelings for awhile. You acted as if everything was normal and not like you were emotionally crying out inside every time you saw Wanda with Vision. It began to get too much when you had caught sight of the pair cooking Paprikash in the communal kitchen. Cooking was something you and Wanda used to do together. It was kind of your thing. It may seem silly, but watching her do something with Vision that used to be sacred to you both hurt.

You began to distance yourself the closer Wanda and Vision got together. What sucked even more was that Wanda didn’t even acknowledge your sudden distance. She no longer slept in your room, opting to spend her nights with Vision. You were dying inside and Wanda didn’t even care to notice.

You had a mission to get to today. Usually, Wanda would be down in the hangar whenever you were going on a mission without her, but she wasn’t there today. She was probably off somewhere with Vision, again. It stung that Wanda didn’t even want to see you off. She was so preoccupied with Vision that she didn’t even give you a second thought. A toaster was stealing your best friend who you just so happened to be madly in love with away from you. And you couldn’t do anything to stop it.

So, you reluctantly got onto the Quinjet with Steve who was accompanying you on the mission. Fury only sent you two in for this mission because it was a simple one. It didn’t require the entire team to complete. You both were to capture and detain the scientist responsible for the latest human experimentations at the hands of Hydra. From the intel gathered by S.H.I.E.L.D, their security wasn’t that bad so it would be a walk in the park for you and Steve. You had just left and you already desperately wanted to go home and wallow in your own self pity in the comfort of your bed.

But first, you had to get this mission over with. The Quinjet landed a little far away from the small Hydra base. You and Steve made your way out of the jet and began to trudge your way toward the building. As you guys got closer, Steve stopped abruptly.

“No matter what, we stick together okay? Just because this should be an easy mission, doesn’t mean we should let our guard down. Understand?” He lectured you sternly as he stared at you intensely.

“Yeah. I got it, Cap.” You replied to him dismissively as you continued to make your way toward the building. You took note of the five guards that were guarding the entrance and gave Steve a nod before you both sprung into action.

After you guys had taken down the entrance guards, you both sneakily made your way into the building. It was pretty easy to find your target, seeing that the building was the size of a house. You and Steve barged into the room, the scientist whipping around quickly and freezing in shock at the sight of you both.

Steve quickly charged at the man and placed him into handcuffs. As Steve pulled the man up by the collar, forcing him to his feet, a thought crossed your mind. This is too easy. Only five guards and the professor was just conveniently in here? This had to be a setup.

Before you could voice your concerns to Steve, you felt a sharp pain rip through your shoulder as Hydra agents flooded into the room. You fell to your knees in pain as Steve threw the target to the ground. He quickly began to fight as many agents as he could. You stood up as you tried to temporarily forget the pain. You began to take on agents yourself. Despite being injured, you kicked their asses with ease.

You were down to the last agent while Steve was pulling the scientist back up to his feet, much more aggressively this time. For some reason, your thoughts went to Wanda. How would she react to your injury? Would she even bother to visit you to make sure you were okay?

Unfortunately, you had chosen the wrong time to become distracted by your thoughts of Wanda. While your thoughts were racing, you failed to notice the glint of a knife in the agent’s left hand. As you blocked one of his punches, he quickly stabbed you right in the stomach. At this, Steve jumped in to help you and made quick work of knocking out the man who stabbed you.

You fully fell to the floor this time, gasping for air. Not only were you shot, but now you got stabbed. Seriously? Did god decide you weren’t already having a shitty enough time? Steve quickly picked you up in his arms in a panic. He carried you to the Quinjet while making sure the scientist was following behind you both. Steve placed your body onto the medical table that was in the Quinjet, handcuffed the man to a railing, and sped off to the compound. He took note of how much blood you lost; it was a lot to say the least. If he didn’t get to the compound soon, he feared you wouldn’t make it; and that wasn’t an option.

The 30 minute trip to the compound turned into a 15 minute ride. Steve quickly rushed you into the medical wing of the compound and placed you into the care of Doctor Helen Cho. He knew he had to tell the team about what happened. The Avengers were a family, and you being the youngest meant you were like a child to them, well besides Wanda obviously.

Steve hurriedly made his way into the living room of the Avenger’s living quarters and made sure Jarvis informed everyone that it was an emergency. As Steve entered, everyone turned to face him with worry present on each of their faces.

“What’s wrong, Rogers? Is everything okay?” Natasha asked as she looked over his body. There was an insane amount of blood all over his star-spangled suit. “It’s Y/N.”

At Steve’s words, everyone in the room stood in shock as their jaws dropped. But no one’s feelings could compare to Wanda’s. She abruptly stood up from the couch and made her way towards Steve.

“What about her? What happened to her?” Wanda began to get angry as hints of her powers made their way to her eyes. Steve took a step back and looked at Wanda before returning his gaze back to the other people in the room. You could hear a pin drop in the silence of the room.

“We went on a mission together. It was supposed to be an easy in and out thing. But we were setup. She got shot in the shoulder and stabbed in the abdomen. She’s in the medical wing right now.” Steve spoke strongly, attempting to remain calm for the sake of the team, but he was terrified inside. Your state refused to leave his mind. Your limp body in his arms as your warm blood covered his hands.

Wanda didn’t say another word as she ran towards the elevator and impatiently hit the button to the medical wing. She didn’t bother to wait for anyone else. Nothing mattered right now except you.

Wanda had feelings for you. Ever since she met you, you were this light in the darkness that was her life. You could cheer her up when no one else could. You knew her better than she knew herself. You were not only her best friend, but you were the woman she was irrevocably in love with. She was terrified to tell you how she felt. She thought she would lose you if she had confessed how she truly felt for you. So, she remained quiet and tried to forget about her feelings for you by hanging out with Vision more. She wasn’t using Vision by any means, she genuinely did enjoy his company. But he wasn’t you.

Wanda didn’t even wait for the elevator doors to fully open as she squeezed herself through the small gap and made her way towards the medical bay doors. Before Wanda could open the door, Steve abruptly grabbed her hand, stopping her from going any further. He must’ve taken the stairs. Damn his super soldier abilities.

“Wanda. Stop. I know you’re worried about Y/N, we all are. But barging in there won’t be any help. You need to let Cho and her nurses focus on helping her.” Steve desperately tried to talk some sense into Wanda; it worked. Wanda’s shoulders slumped as she made her way towards the seating area that was right outside the doors. All she could do was sit, wait, and pray to whatever god there was that you would be okay.

Wanda didn’t even know you were going on a mission today. If she did, she would’ve went to the hangar and hugged you before she left, like she always did. Oh fuck, she didn’t even get to see you off and now look at your state. Now that she thought about it, she had been neglecting you for some time now. She let her fear of her feelings consume her. She spent more time with Vision than with you, and now she wasn’t sure if she would get the opportunity to be with you again. The thought of not being able to tell you how in love with you she was mortified her. This was the wake up call she needed.

——————————————————————————

2 hours later

After two agonizingly slow hours, Doctor Cho made her way towards the anxious group of heroes. Wanda shot up from her seat and approached Helen.

“How is she? Please, tell me she’s okay.” Wanda asks as she nervously chews on her bottom lip. “Y/N is fine. Luckily, the knife didn’t hit any major arteries. She won’t be able to make any sudden movements for the next few weeks which means no missions until I give her clearance.” At Cho’s words, the entire team was struck with relief. Wanda’s eyes lit up at the good news. You were okay. You were still here.

“Can we see her?” Steve asked from behind Wanda as he made his way to stand beside her. “Yes, shes awkward, but only one person can go in at a time. She’s very sensitive right now from the anesthesia.” Helen gave the team a smile before walking off.

Everyone looked at Wanda as she gave them a nod. Of course she had to go in first. You and Wanda may have been oblivious to each other’s feelings, but the team wasn’t. It was almost annoying how unaware you two were of how the other person felt.

Wanda quietly made her way into your room and almost let out a sigh of relief as she saw you laying on the table awake. You were trying to reach for a glass of water beside your bed, but the pain in your side made the small task a burden. Wanda quickly made her way to the table and handed you the glass of water. You were startled since you didn’t even hear her enter the room. You took the water from her hands and took a long sip before handing it back to her.

“What’re you doing here?” You asked coldly as you glared at the Sokovian woman. She was shocked at your animosity. You were never like this with her before. “I needed to make sure you were okay. I was worried sick.” Wanda frowned as she pulled a chair up to your bedside and sat in it.

“Oh. Now you suddenly remember I exist? It only took me nearly dying for you to notice me again.” You knew you weren’t being fair. You guys were just best friends and she was entitled to hang out and be with whoever she wanted. But the part of you that loved her and longed for more took over.

“Y/N. I’m sorry I haven’t been around as often. I got caught up hanging out with Vision when I should’ve been there for you.” Wanda’s eyes softened as she stared at your face. She missed you so much. She may have seen you around the compound, but she hasn’t been this close to you in what felt like decades.

“Yeah. You got caught up with Vision. Why don’t you just go back to him now. I’m fine.” You stubbornly spoke as you tore your eyes away from Wanda and stared out the window in front of your bed.

Wanda made a ballsy move and grabbed your hand in here. Thankfully, you didn’t move it away. “Y/N. I don’t care about Vision, I care about you. I love you and I mean that in more than a friendly way.” At Wanda’s words, your head snapped back to her as you looked over her features for any indication of a lie; you didn’t find any.

“I was spending time with Vision to try and forget my feelings for you. That obviously backfired and only solidified what I already knew I felt. I’m sorry it took such a terrible situation for me to finally grow the balls to tell you this. I love you Y/N.” Wanda squeezed your hand tightly as she stared at you full of love and adoration.

You were speechless. As cliche as it sounds, this was what you’ve wanted since the moment you laid eyes on her. She said the three words you’ve been longing to hear spill from her mouth. She loved you too.

“I love you too, Wanda. I’m sorry. I thought you had a thing for Vision and I let jealousy and insecurity get the better of me.” You looked down in shame as you tried to pull your hand out of Wanda’s hold, but she only gripped it tighter.

“Don’t be sorry. I completely understand. I’m so glad your okay and I’m so unbelievably happy that you feel the same way.” Wanda smiled brightly at you as you smiled right back. You guys must’ve looked like maniacs with your big, cheesy smiles, but you didn’t care.

Wanda began to slowly lean towards you. You attempted to meet her in the middle, but only ended up wincing in pain as you were reminded of your impressive stab wound. Wanda let out a laugh.

“Let me handle it, moya lyubov (my love).” Wanda said before closing the gap between you both and giving you a heated, desperate kiss. All the pent up emotions that you both had been withholding from each other were coming to light through this kiss. You guys were interrupted by the door swinging open abruptly and the sound of someone clearing their throat.

You both jumped apart as you cringed at the sting of your injuries. You turned to the door and caught sight of the team standing at the door with shit eating grins on their face.

“Sorry to interrupt you, lovebirds. But we wanted to check on Y/N too. Cho gave us the clear to come in now.” Natasha smirked at yours and Wanda’s flustered states.

“Pay up, Barnes.” Sam said as he held his hand out to Bucky, who groaned before placing 50 dollars in his hand. You and Wanda stared at the two confused, Bucky took notice of this and decided to fill you both in.

“We made a bet on when you two would get together. I said in the next two months, he said in the next two weeks. He won.” Bucky gave you both a shy, almost embarrassed smile.

Everyone in the room laughed, making you and Wanda turn even more red than before. You didn’t care about the inevitable, endless teasing you would have to endure after today. You would deal with the comments forever as long as it meant Wanda was by your side. You once thought that she didn’t feel the same, and you were so glad you were proven wrong. Sometimes, love can be requited after all.

[thefanficmonster]

Innocent Life

Ethan Winters (Resident Evil Biohazard) & Child!Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of Death, Grief, Spoilers for RE8:Village, Swearing

Genre: Angst

Summary: As Ethan stands outside the ruins of Luiza’s house, looking the aftermath of the death he barely escaped in the eye, he cannot get the wails and cries of a child out of his head. Takes him a bit to realize they’re not a product of his trauma.

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for the wonderful request, I had a blast writing it - what can I say, angst is my specialty hehe. Hope you enjoy the read! Love, Vy ❤

How the hell is this happening? Why is this happening? Why to me? Why my family? Why were we the ones chosen for this suffering to be thrown upon? What did my daughter do to deserve this, for fuck’s sake?!

Why does everyone around me die? Why do I always loose everyone?

I’m the problem....

His knees are weak, his head’s spinning. His lungs have filled with smoke and ash so much he can barely breathe. His eyes sting, reddened around the edges, his vision blurry. However, what bothers him most is the mess that is currently his mind - swimming with the feeling of betrayal, sorrow and dread.

He lost so much so suddenly and in such a short amount of time. He lost Chris - someone he thought of as a friend but has now been replaced by a coldblooded killer and backstabber. He refuses to believe that’s still the Chris who saved him and Mia from Louisiana, he has to be dead.

Mia....

He lost Mia. He’s lost her before countless times - he lost her when he though she was dead, he kept losing her and getting her back at the Bakers’ residence as she switched between her monstrous form and being herself. He lost her again when they made it back, when her mind was clouded and darkened, when all she needed was solitude and when he wasn’t allowed anywhere near her as doctors upon doctors used her as a research object. And now he’s lost her again, this time for good. It’s just him and Rose now.

Or it would be if she too wasn’t taken from him, leaving him in the pit of grief and loss, both emotions at an intensity he’s never experienced before. Like a drill going through his heart, or a sledgehammer breaking it down to shards. Or as though his heart’s completely vanished, unable to take the anguish Ethan’s existence has become. The anguish that will live on for as long as he will.

Those three years of Mia being gone.

That nightmarish night back in Louisiana.

The horrific sight of dozens of bullets entering his wife’s body in front of his very eyes as he remained helpless.

The sound of Rose’s wailing cries.

God, he can still hear them. And oh so vividly. Like a cursed, haunting loop in his brain. If he closes his eyes he can almost imagine her being a few feet from him, near him, giving him the opportunity to soothe her, calm her down, tell her it’s all gonna be ok even if it seems like hell at the moment. Promising he’d make it all alright and make the right people pay for what’s happened.

But then finally, he picks up on it - the oddity in the cries he’s hearing.

They’re too realistic for a mind to be able to produce. They’re too loud and too close and are external. And, most importantly, they sound like the cries of an older child.

Ethan quickly snaps himself back to reality, coming to terms with the knowledge that the sounds he’s hearing are a part of it and not some dark corner of his mind. Despite the horror he feels and creep up, taking over his whole body in the form of cold sweat, he still takes a step towards the source of the ear-splitting and heart-sinking noise. It’s instinctively human to feel a sickening feeling of sympathy combined with the need to shield something so powerless from any harm.

To save an innocent life.

Heading towards the side of what used to be Luiza’s house he spots it - a crib on top of which there’s a pile of rubble and wooden planks. The thing seems to barely be standing and yet it’s harboring the child whose cries have now grown louder. Ethan’s frozen for a few moments, frozen with fear. Frozen with the overwhelming thought that there’s no way he can save that child. Frozen and powerless, just like he was on the floor of his own home as life left Mia’s body.

You didn’t do anything for her....

The sound of a crack in the already weak wood, seemingly coming from the child’s crib, sends all his senses on edge, his adrenaline once again starting to rush through his veins.

But you can do something for that child, Ethan! Do something before it’s too late!

Within the blink of an eye, Ethan finds himself standing above the unsteady wooden structure, putting all his strength into removing the rubble that has thankfully piled atop the wooden planks, preventing anything from landing on the baby and harming it. Hell, it’s a miracle it didn’t suffocate from the smoke in the first place. Its cries are put to a halt when its wide eyes land on Ethan, who’s looking back at the toddler with the same amount of distress.

“Hi there. It’s ok, you’re safe now.“ He finds himself breathing out shakily as his trembling hands reach down, picking up the now silent toddler. “It’s ok, little one. You’re a literal miracle, you know that?“ His gaze travels over the ruin the house has become, the house that was this child’s home. Its family’s home. This toddler knows loss much like Ethan does, or it will when it grows up. But as of now, it’s secured in the bubble of blissful ignorance due to infancy.

And Ethan has come across yet another bump in the road: making his way in the castle was already gonna be a difficult and possibly lethal venture, but doing it with a child in his arms, that’s a death sentence for both him and the kid.

“You and I have a thing for surviving hell, but not even I am willing to take the risk of taking you with me, kid.“ He gently caresses the toddlers head as its big awed eyes blink up at him with curiosity.

One one hand, a castle with horrors he’s yet to be familiar with; on the other, a village which’s horrors he’s already seen and experienced and would rather die right in this very spot than subject this innocent kid to them.

Ethan’s once again stranded.

“What do I do with you, kid? Being with me won’t bring you any good. I’m like a death sentence to everyone around me.“ His heart breaks as he says that because - in his mind and by his logic - it’s the truth. It’s the only thing that makes sense in such a nonsensical situation.

Then suddenly, an idea sparks, fueling what little hope and courage he has left and getting his legs to move from the spot they’ve been stuck in for the past God knows how long. That’s not important right now. What matters is that, for the first time since this nightmare started, Ethan Winters has a clue of what he’s doing. He’s got a plan.

                                                                *  *  *

“I see you have returned!“ The Duke greets him with his signature lazy smile before his gaze lands on the child in Ethan’s arms, his eyes widening in surprise, “Oh, and you’ve got company!“

“Actually...“ Ethan stops in front of the shop, adjusting his grip on the kid, “They’ll be keeping you company from now until....well, until I come back.“

“And where is it you’re planning on going?“ The Duke asks, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion and concern, “Perhaps you don’t suppose I know how to take care of a child.“

Ethan grows irritated, “Perhaps you don’t suppose I’m gonna take a kid into that castle you called me insane for wanting to go in myself. Trust me, I wouldn’t be leaving them with you if it wasn’t my only choice.” When he doesn’t receive a verbal response from the Duke, more of an expression change that suggested he’s accepting of this, Ethan grow relieved, turning to the toddler that hasn’t taken its eyes off him even for a second. “Hey, you’re gonna be just alright with the big guy, ok? He’s gonna keep you safe until I come back.” His initial intention was to say ‘even if I don’t come back’ but he just couldn’t bring himself to say it, not to the kid at least, “Until then...” He pauses when a name automatically pops up in his head, “Until then, Y/N, you’ll stay here with the Duke.”

After that heavy-hearted goodbye, Ethan reluctantly hands the kid - Y/N - over to the Duke, a shift they are not very happy about seeing as how they start wailing immediately.

“You owe me plenty, Mr. Winters.“ The Duke says with a frown on his face, displeased and already developing a headache from the child’s cries.

“I owe you nothing. What you’re doing is basic human decency.“ Ethan glares at him before turning his attention to Y/N, “Hey, it’s alright. I know you two aren’t big fans of one another, but I promise I won’t take long. I’ll be back before you know it.“ Planting a quick reassuring kiss on top of the child’s head, he steps away, relieved to find they don’t break out in a crying fit again.

With that peace of mind, he takes off on the path that’ll lead him to the castle. A part of him has found some peace, knowing that one innocent life has been saved.  However, there’s still one awaiting rescue. And he’ll be damned if he’s not the rescuer.