#but I’ll remember the same traumatic thing over and over again

[lightblueminecraftorchid]

this sucks this sucks this SUCKS

[artists-ally]

{Train Wreck} Cassian!sister x Azriel AU {Pt. 1}

Man it feels good to be back with this series again. If you're wondering why the title feels familiar, you might have read this before. I decided I wanted to pick it back up again, but I needed to make a few changes. So, here is the revised version of Train Wreck!! Feel free to re-read, there are some new things here and there, so it's definitely worth it!! Anyway, enjoy my loves! Part 2 will be up soon!! Title and series inspired by this song!

Word Count: 8,587

Warnings: angst, language, traumatized characters (will come into play later in the series, you've been warned now), abandonment,

Tagging: @thelov3lybookworm @needylilgal022 @librafairy @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @sarawritestories @claireswritingcorner @dawneternal @ninthcircleofprythian @blessthepizzaman @lady-of-tearshed @pit-and-the-pen

Summary: After six years, this is the first time Ira and her brother Cassian have been in the same room. Under less than ideal circumstances, they're forced to meet again. Will Ira be able to forgive Cassian for the way he left things? Will she be able to trust the new friends she makes? Will she ever be able to open up to her brothers hot-shot best friend?

~~~~~

“He’s going to say no.” No response from the peanut gallery in the front seat. “Seriously, he’s not going to be okay with this. You might as well let me out of the car now.”

“Will you just be quiet?” Arthur snapped, eyes locking with mine from the rearview mirror. “Need I remind you that this is your fault. You’ve left us with no other option.”

“I told you, it wasn’t me. That was–” “Cal, I remember the story. And that’s all that it is. A story, a fabrication that Arthur and I are no longer going to be entangled in. You may be able to fool the police with that lie, but you can’t fool us, Ira,” Dana snapped, whirling around to shoot me some daggers. She couldn’t look intimidating if she tried; her face was like a bunny, and every time she frowned it just looked like she smelled something rotten.

I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms. There was no way he was going to take me. We hadn’t spoken in almost six years, I didn’t even know he was alive until three months ago when I heard about his engagement.

Fourteen years of growing up together meant nothing to him, I guess.

The big, riverside house came into view at the end of an equally impressive driveway. A shame for whoever had to go and collect the mail every morning. 

“Stay here, in the car,” Arthur barked. 

I opened the door and got out of the car, kicking a few stones. Man this place was flashy; a big fountain in the circular driveway, a line of cars over by a garage. Not to mention the very obvious multi-million dollar mansion that never seemed to end.

“Lord, give me the strength to not strangle this child,” Arthur sighed, marching to the front door. I snickered, he was always so uptight.

“Not a child, Arthur,” I countered. “I’m fucking twenty years old.”

“Give it a rest, Ira. We’re trying to help you since you clearly don’t understand the basic human morals of being a functioning member of society,” Dana said, opening the trunk, catching a bag as it tumbled from the stack.

“Sorry that I don’t like to conform to the idealistic fantasy that is modern society.” 

Turns out it’s hard to get a job with a criminal record. ‘We can’t hire a liability’ this and ‘we won’t have delinquents running our business’ that. So, I had to get creative with my… places of employment. It had been a fantastic plan. Brilliant even. Just something simple to save a few bucks so I could move out of this god forsaken place. But it got fucked up. Bad. And ended up with me in handcuffs.

This was my punishment. Instead of serving six months in county jail, I’m instead being dumped at this doorstep. Just what I always wanted. Knowing if I ever go back to the shithole I called home I’ll be arrested with a warrant.

I’ll never go in on a deal with someone ever again. 

“Get your stuff,” Dana dropped a few things to the ground. 

I came around the side of the car and heard the door open, and that lovely voice of his ring through my head. 

Great. This is going to go fantastic.

“Arthur? W-What are you doing here?” he said, a hiccup to his voice. 

“Cassian, good to see you,” the old man grinned, extending his hand. I watched through the windows of the van, saw Cassian stare at Arthurs hand and do nothing with it. “We uhh… we have something for you.”

“I don’t understand. How’d you find me?”

I could hear the crunch of gravel and I knew what was about to happen. Any second now I was about to come face to face with the douchebag I was dreading. I won’t lie, some small, juvenile part of me wished for him to be happy to see me. But I know it’s not gonna happen. 

“Dana? What the fuck is going on? Why are you here? How did you-”

“She’s not the surprise, Cass,” Arthur clapped him on the shoulder and walked to the back of the car. I didn’t miss the way he shuddered. 

There was a sharp yank on my elbow and I was pulled from the safety of my hiding spot. I jerked away from his grip, fixing the sleeve on my favorite jacket. Then I looked up. Fuck he’s…

“Ira…” He blinked several times, as if he could ever mistake me for someone else. Then I watched the color drain from his face. “It’s uhh… it’s been a while.” “Don’t give me that shit,” I couldn’t be bothered to be pleasant. Nothing about this would be fucking pleasant.

Cassian looked from Arthur to Dana, then back to me. And to the duffle bag that I was holding on to. I could see him connecting the dots inside his thick-ass skull. “No. No no no–”

“Cassian, she needs someone to look after her,” Dana expressed, chasing after him when he turned around. 

“You cannot just plop her on my doorstep like some stray dog,” Cass shouted, throwing his arms in the air and all around.

“She’s your sister, for fucks sake,” Arthur joined. “She needs you to look after her. Since you left, Ira has done nothing but cause me headaches and gray hairs.”

“I’m right here, you know,” I walked over, throwing the bag down. “And I’d appreciate if you talked about me like a fucking human being, not some gag gift that is always shuffled around Christmas because no one wants it.”

“This is fucking ridiculus. I cannot take you in, Ira. I have too much going on.”

“Some things never change,” I huffed. “See, I told you he wouldn’t give me the time of day. You’re still the same selfish, self-centered asshole you’ve always been.”

“Don’t talk like that to your goddamn brother,” Arthor yelled, spit flying onto my cheek. It took every ounce of self restraint to not rip his fucking throat out. Do not stoop to his level, Ira. Calm the fuck down.

“Cass? What’s going on?” Someone called

Cassian scrunched his face, and my eyes went to the door. A pretty woman was standing there with her arms folded. She had a scowl on her face and narrow eyes. Her long brown hair was braided over her shoulder. 

He heaved a sigh, rubbing his eyes. “Nothing, these people were just leaving.”

“Who’s here?” Another voice, a man, asked next. He was tall, had black hair and really deep blue eyes. They actually looked violet in the light. He was just as tall as Cassian when he came next to his side. The woman, with the most terrifying gaze I’ve ever seen, stood on his other side. 

Cassian muttered something under his breath and rubbed his forehead. “This is Arthur and Dana. My foster parents from years ago. And this… this is my sister.”

“Your sister?” Both of them exclaimed at the same time. 

He didn’t even tell them about me… 

I stand there, shocked to my core. God I knew he was an asshole, but he never once mentioned me? What a fucking–

“They were just–” “Come in come in,” the man stepped down and shook Arthur's hand. “I am Rhysand, call me Rhys. Welcome, we are so pleased to have you. Cassian never mentioned having visitors today.”

“It wasn’t planned,” Dana let out the fakest laugh I’ve ever heard. She was one of those people who, when nervous, laughed after every sentence. I’ve come to despise the sound. 

“No, Rhys,” Cassian shook his head. “They are not welcome. Take your fucking shit, take your goddamn bags, and go. You’re not allowed back here.”

At least that’s something we could both agree on. Neither side of this party wanted to be here. The feeling was mutual. 

“Welp, you heard the man,” I clapped my hands together. “Sorry to disrupt your whole life, to remind you that I still exist but we’ll go now. We all know that you don’t want the responsibility anyway. You didn’t want it six years ago, so why would that change today?”

“You know goddamn well that if I had a choice I would’ve–”

“Okay, okay can we cool it a couple degrees here? Someone better start explaining what is going on,” the man, Rhys, said. He put an arm between Cassian and I. I wasn’t sure when I got in his face, but he might want to remove the barrier before it gets ripped off. 

There were a couple too many silent heart beats, but both of us backed down. Cassian glanced at Arthur and Dana, taking a deep breath. I watched his chest rise and fall. 

In for four, out for four. In for five, out for five…

A lump rose in my throat. 

I could practically hear the conversation between Cassian and Rhys. This silent exchange of glances and body language I’m sure I’d never understand. But then Cassian backed down. Literally, he took a step back, hands on his hips.

“Would you guys like to stay for dinner?” Rhys asked Arthur and Dana.

Dinner? Dinner? Oh fuuuuck no. The four of us haven’t been in a room together for six years, and this crackhead just asked if we wanted to have dinner?

“We would be delighted,” Dana accepted, shooting me a look from head to toe. “Since it’s still midday, would you mind showing us around the property? It looks gorgeous.”

“Certainly,” Rhys says, offering his elbow. Dana latches on like a lost duckling, Arthur trailing after her. 

And then there were two. 

I looked up at the clouds, finding no discernible shapes amongst them. Welp. Here fucking goes nothing. 

“Lovely weather we’re having.”

“Do not,” he pointed at me. “You are not staying here, whenever this little tour is over, you’re gone with them.”

“Gladly.” 

“How the fuck did you guys find me anyway?” His eyes were full of rage. Full of hate. Full of resentment.

“It's amazing the things you can find with twenty bucks and a library computer.”

“You hacked into a library system and stalked me?” Cassian was dumbfounded.

I just smirked. “It wasn’t that hard, don’t give yourself too much credit. Kinda hard to hide somewhere when your face is plastered all over your website. ‘Velaris Hotel and Casino’ has a catchy ring to it, come up with it yourself?”

“I swear to god if I ever see you set foot in my hotel or my casino you’re gonna regret it. I cannot believe you hunted me down.”

“And I cannot believe you abandoned me,” I screamed. Years and years of pent up aggression. Years and years of shower thoughts and late nights wondering what I’d say to him when this moment came. And every single thing I’ve thought of has flown out the fucking window. 

Cassian had the gull to roll his eyes. I almost smacked him across the face. 

“Yo, are you coming inside or what?” A third voice sounded. God, how many people live in this fucking house?

A petite, blonde girl was in the doorway, her eyes bouncing between us. 

“Well? You gonna invite me in or is that privilege only reserved for Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dumb?” I asked, rocking back and forth on my heels. 

He looked me head to toe, and I got that same feeling as when Dana did it. Just raw disgust. 

“Break anything and I’ll murder you.”

“I’m thinking you’re gonna murder me regardless but eye-eye-captain,” I nodded, following behind his solid frame. 

The house was absolutely massive. I thought shit like this only existed in movies, not… wherever the fuck we were. Certainly not my normal run-down streets I was used to, and certainly not somewhere I ever thought Cassian was going to end up. 

There were cabinets filled with fine dishes and a chandelier hanging in the front entrance. There was a massive living room with the biggest TV and couch I’ve ever seen. Same with the kitchen and the dining room, which was being prepped by maids. Legit, actual maids. For fucks sake could this get any stranger?

Cassian took a left and went up a set of stairs. Classic Cass, running away at any chance he gets. My phone buzzed in my pocket. 

Cal: your a piece of shit I hope you know that

Me: You’re* but it’s fine.

Cal: i cannot believe you fucking left me

Me: Whoops. Sorry bud, I couldn’t stick around. You dicked me over so… guess that karma’s a bitch.

Cal: you know im bad with names

Me: WE USED EACH OTHERS MOTHER FUCKER. HOW HARD CAN IT BE TO FORGET MY NAME

Cal: hopefully pretty fucking easy because i don’t ever want to fucking see you ever again fuck you ira

Me: Right back atcha, asshole.

The only person that I had remotely trusted was out of my life. Now that I think about it, I’m not sure I’ve ever had someone to trust. There were plenty of things I never told Cal. Plenty of things I kept hidden for my own safety. It was a strictly need-to-know partnership. I always got a little weary when he started asking too many questions. 

And I learned pretty fucking quick you can’t trust your own blood either. 

Lesson learned. Always. Trust. Your. Gut. 

I trailed behind Dana and Arthur, always five steps behind, close enough to hear, but far enough to make an escape should I need to. 

“Oh, and this is my wife Feyre. My darling, this is Arthur, Dana, and Ira, Cassian’s foster parents and his sister,” Rhys spared me a glance and I scrunched my face. Had Cassian really never bothered to tell them about me?

“Wow,” she had a small smile on her pretty face. Why was everyone here so pretty? “You look just like him. You both have the same eyes. And the same hair.”

“Great, what I’ve always wanted to be. Cassian's clone.” I couldn’t stop the eye roll.

“Ira,” Dana hissed. “Some manners?”

“Thank you, your Royal Highness.”

Dana smacked her forehead, mumbling something about gray hairs and a headache again. I chuckled. I thought it was funny. Especially the curtsy. 

“They are staying for dinner, I’ll let them know to set a few extra plates,” Rhys said.

“Good, I wouldn’t mind getting to know some of Cassian’s family,” Feyre nodded, that small smile still on her lips. We had all meandered outside to look at their yard, at the fountain in the front of the house. 

To no one's surprise, there was a matching one in the back by the pool. 

We all went inside after seeing the yard, but Cassian lingered at the back of the pack. While Rhys took Dana and Arthur around to the kitchen, Cassian yanked me–why was everyone throwing me around?–into a room off to the side. 

“What the fuck did you do this time?” Off to a great start.

“Wow, Cassie-”

“Do not call me that.” 

He used to hate it when I called him Cassie. Especially around his friends because they would make fun of him for days after. 

“No hi, how are you? No ‘it's good to see that my sister is alive and doing well?’” “Clearly not well enough since they dragged you all the way out here.” Cassian’s eyes were full of fire. Looks like he still had that canyon of a line between his bushy-ass-eyebrows when he was upset. 

“You don’t know anything of what I’ve had to endure the last six fucking years without you.”

“What. Did. You. Do?”

I swallowed, I hated when he scolded me. “It wasn’t even that bad. They just gave me community service.” I lied out of my ass.

“Jesus Christ, Ira. What did they want to give you?” Cassian shouted for the whole house to hear. 

“Doesn’t matter, I got myself out of it. Like I always do, without your fucking help. I am capable of taking care of myself without you.”

“Yeah you seem to be doing a swell job,” Cassian looked me up and down, clearly judging my tangled hair and ripped up jeans that I’ve probably had since middle school. “I thought all of this was behind you, Ira. When I left you were-”

“Abandoned. You didn’t leave, you abandoned me.”

Cassian relaxed his shoulders. “You know if I could’ve taken you with me I would’ve.”

“No you wouldn’t have.” I was waiting for him to argue, to deny that fact. But he didn’t, and his haunting silence was enough of an answer. I scoffed, a hard, bitter noise. “You know I don’t blame you, no one would want to take a juvenile delinquent anywhere, especially somewhere like this place.”

“Ira-” “Save you’re fucking breath, Cass. You don’t have to pretend around me, you’ve never had to. Just play along with it for one night and I’ll be gone by the morning. Then I won’t have to be your liability to shoulder ever again.”

I didn’t wait around to see his response. Somewhere deep inside I was actually excited to see him. To meet the person my scrawny, gangly brother had turned into. Now he was… a man. Like a real man. I never thought I’d see him with long hair, but here we are.

He looked healthy. He looked happy. For fucks sake he was engaged. Albeit to the most terrifying looking woman I’ve ever seen, but they looked like they somehow worked.

I found Dana and Arthur with glasses of wine around a large table, two other women that I hadn’t met yet. 

“Ahh, this is her,” Rhys stood up, putting his hands on my shoulders. I immediately shrugged them off. “This is Ira, Cassian’s sister.”

“After all this time,” the pretty blonde woman spoke, looking at me from head to toe. “Who knew Cassian could keep you a secret.”

“You look just like him,” a girl who looked similarly to Feyre said, eyes wide. “I’m Elain. And that’s Morrigan.”

“Mor is fine, dear,” Mor smiled, coming over to me and Rhys. “Would you like to see the rest of the house?”

“Not really,” I grimace, but she linked her elbow with mine anyway, dragging me away. “I know that look. You’re overwhelmed. Follow me.”

I thought I was doing a good job at masking it. “You don’t know the fucking half of it.”

“I know Elain said this already, but fuck you look like Cassian,” she laughed, opening a room and revealing a giant bed with a balcony on the other side of some french doors. 

“It gets really fucking annoying,” I rolled my eyes. 

“Understood,” she nodded, not pushing it. “This is my room, you can go out on the balcony if you need some fresh air. Or the bathroom, whatever you want.”

This entire room was as big as the trailer I grew up in. I’ve never seen such a big bed, or a big closet. Jesus, she could have the entirety of Macy’s in there. 

She must’ve caught me staring at it cause she walked over and flipped on the light. “Wanna take a look?”

I snapped back to her, shaking my head. I shoved my hands in my pockets, digging my nails into my palms. Everything in here was so pristine, and I was so… not. I didn’t wanna step anywhere but the hardwood floor.

“I like your jacket, those are some really cool patches,” she smiled, taking a closer look. She reached out and touched one, the blue plaid square fraying at the edges. 

It was a cut out of Cassian’s flannel he left behind…

“Thanks,” I nodded, ignoring the lump in my throat. “I’ve spent a lot of time making them.”

“That's so cool, I have zero creative ability,” Mor sighed as she flopped back on the bed. 

“Neither do I, just something to pass the time, I guess?” I took my hands out of my pockets, digging some grime out from under my nails. 

I could feel her eyes on me. That tension. Knowing she’s about to say something. 

“Look, I know it’s not my place to ask, but–”

“Then don’t ask. Cause I’m not saying shit,” I said bluntly. “Sorry if that's rude but I don’t know you and you clearly don’t know me so… I don’t need the whole ‘I know what you’re going through’ speech. You don’t. No one does. Not even myself.”

Mor nodded, sitting up, propping her arms behind her back. “I’m a little pissed at Cassian too.”

My eyes snapped to hers. “Why?”

“Because he has never once mentioned you? I know some of where he came from, of bouncing around the foster system, about ‘siblings’ but… he never went into detail. I just assumed they were all other kids in the system, you know? If he would’ve mentioned something about you, trust me, we would have not waited this long to be introduced.”

That… makes me feel slightly better. 

“There's not much to know about me. I’m a fucking nuisance to basically everyone. Especially to Cassian, Arthur, and Dana apparently.”

“What the fuck is their problem?” Mor scoffs, folding her arms over her chest. 

“I don’t know. Well– of course I know, it’s me. I’m their fucking problem and they’re trying to get rid of me. I made a dumb fucking decision, but I already did my fucking time. I don’t want anything to do with Cassian so I’m not sure why they’re dragging him into this mess.” 

Mor just looked at me sorrowfully. Fuck, why did I say that? I don’t want her pity. I can’t pretend she cares about me. 

She got off the bed and stood in front of me. She was shorter than I was, but not by a whole lot. 

“You’re welcome to stay here as long as you like. I know it’s fucking awful what they’re making you do, so I don’t blame you for wanting to hide. Help yourself to anything you need.”

And then she was gone. Blonde hair bobbing with her steps. 

This isn’t fucking happening. I’m not in some strange girls room, alone nonetheless, in a different city hundreds of miles away from my familiar streets. I was not about to be abandoned here by Arthur and Dana because they couldn’t stand to take care of me anymore. Not the first, not the second, but the third time I’ve been abandoned. 

Man this is some fucking bullshit. 

I just looked around, envying all of this. It was all hers. All this space, all these things. All these clothes and dresses and jewelry boxes… Why can’t I have these things?

I swallow my tears. I’m so fucking pathetic, why am I about to cry? This is so stupid. Everything about this is stupid. 

I head to the bathroom and splash some cold water on my face. 

A plan flickers to life in my brain. I know for a fact they’re going to sneak out and leave me and all my shit here. But, I’ll just leave in the middle of the night. Who the fuck is gonna stop me? No one. Who cares if I leave? Also no one. 

I won’t make the same mistake that Cassian did. When I disappear, no one will be able to find me.

I took a long look at myself in the mirror. My tired eyes, my tangled, ratty hair. But I could see it… the resemblance between him and I. The same eyes. Same nose. Same hair. I’ll never be able to unsee it now. 

Okay, Ira. just a few more hours and you're done. Done for good. You can change your name and move to Puerto Rico or something. Paris. Wherever you want to go. Well, you don’t know how to speak Spanish or French, which might be important but… that's why they have translating apps, right? You’ll be fine. You always are.

When I got back downstairs, there was a light chatter in the air. But it stopped the second I walked in the room. 

My hood was quick to go over my head. No one spoke as I sat down and poured some water from the pitcher into my glass. 

Thankfully conversation between Rhys, Feyre, and Dana resumed and the silence wasn’t eating me alive. I took out my phone and scrolled through instagram, posting a picture of a lake I had taken on the drive up here. Just like all the other posts, it wouldn’t get any likes. 

“How do all of you know each other?” Arthur asked. 

“Well I met Cassian when we were in high school, as well as our other friend Azriel,” Rhys started. “We made a deal with each other that when we graduate, we would do everything in our power to become the most powerful business owners we could. As you can see, that little pact is working quite well.” “How long have you lived here?” Dana asked next, clearly eyeing up Rhys. 

“For about three years now?” Mor answered, Rhys nodded. “We kind of all found each other on the same paths and stuck together. We sort of own and share everything around here.”

“That is lovely,” Dana smiled. “And what do you do?”

“I own a casino and a neighboring hotel,” Rhys smiled. The moment I had learned about this hotel and casino, alarm bells rang in my ears. The devil's playground, and it was calling my name. Maybe I’d hit up for a few poker hands. “Cassian runs the whole thing, and Azriel kind of has his own thing.”

“Who’s Azriel?” Arthur unfolded the napkin and laid it across his lap. 

“He is our other friend,” Cassian butted in, lips pressed in that line that I remembered. “He’ll be by later.”

“Great,” I rolled my eyes. “More people.”

“Will you please be polite for once in your life?” Dana whisper-yelled, clearly not being discrete enough since everyone looked at us. 

I just shut my mouth, grinding my teeth. It’s not worth it, it's not worth it, I told myself. A few moments later, a large tray with some type of bird on it came out. It was too big to be a chicken, but too small to be a turkey? Duck maybe? I don’t know, it didn’t matter. It was food. 

Everyone around me took their time while I ate like a heathen. Putting a little bit of everything on my plate and scarfing it down like someone was going to take it away from me. Guess I’m taking on the stray dog title pretty well. 

“So, Ira. What do you like to do?” Mor asked me. 

I don't know what part of my hood being pulled over my head gave off ‘I want to be a part of this conversation’, but here we go I guess. 

“I have many hobbies.” I could see Cassian’s eyes narrow from across the table. 

“Like?” Rhys stuck a green bean in his mouth.

“Uhh, f-fashion. And I’m very good at handling money. Other people's money. As well as picking locks and hotwiring cars-”

“She’s joking,” Cassian gave the fakest laugh– besides Dana’s– that I’ve ever heard. “We used to play cops and robbers when we were little, she always wanted to be the robber.”

“Did I?”

“Yes,” he practically growled. “You did.”

This was crazy. This was actually crazy to be doing this right now. If I had any particular feeling about the things I did, guilty and ashamed were not some of them. Who gave a fuck if I stole from Walmart or faked being a waitress to make a few extra bucks? If anything they should be thanking me for the extra set of hands. Which they didn’t have to pay for. 

It wasn’t like I stole the Mona Lisa for fucks sake. 

“I guess I did.” 

“What was Cassian like growing up? I can only imagine some of the stories you have,” Nesta chimed in from next to Cassian.

“I have a few. One time, Cassian was making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich-”

“Do not-”

“And he thought that the peanut butter was in the fridge for some reason. Turns out he grabbed a bottle of dijon mustard and used that instead. He took one bite and threw up everywhere. It took Dana a week to get the smell out of the kitchen.”

Everyone grimaced, poking fun at Cassian for making a jelly-mustard sandwich. “I guess that explains the nausea every time I make one.”

“You still can’t stomach even the smell?” My eyes were a little wide. That had to have been from when we were still in elementary school.

“Nope,” Cassian’s tone was harsh, fork forceful as it went into his mouth. 

“What is everyone laughing about?” A new voice said from over my shoulder. When I turned to look… holy mother of Jesus fucking–

“Azriel,” Rhys, still in a fit of laughter. “Listen to this: Ira, Cassian’s sister, told us why he runs for the hills every time he sees peanut butter.”

“S-Sister?” 

I could not have ignored the exchange between Cass and Azriel if I tried. Those alarm bells from earlier? They were deafening now. Much like Cassian and Rhys earlier, their eyes and body gestures were like a language in and of itself. Impossible to understand, but something was said. 

“Azriel, this is my sister. Ira,” Cassian gestured to me without looking. “This is Azriel. And my foster parents, Arthur and Dana.”

I held Azriel’s gaze for a second. I couldn’t quite figure out what his problem was, but he better not have one with me. I challenged his gaze, but he refused to back down. 

Azriel gave a not-so-subtle look at me, but didn’t say anything as he moved to sit with us. A sharp kick to my shin had me wincing. When I looked up, Cassian met my heated gaze. 

Don’t even think about it, he mouthed, glare set so deep in his eyes I wasn't sure his eye lids would peel off his face. 

One raise of my eyebrow told him I was up for the challenge. I could see his jaw clench, and that only made me want to push his buttons. 

I managed to break my vice hold on Cassian and look at Azriel from across the table. He had these lighter colored eyes, hazel I think. And a dark mess of hair. He wore a fitted black athletic tee, and black sweats with a Nike swoosh on the hip. I think I stared a little too long, cause when I looked back up at his face, he sent me a wink. 

I damn near gagged. He wishes. 

“And you’re engaged? That’s wonderful, Cassian. I am so happy for you,” Dana gushed while looking at Nesta’s ring. “Congratulations, you two. Do you have a date picked out?”

“No,” Nesta said sternly. “We are just going to wait things out. Until both of us feel ready.”

Cassian nodded, not offering up any words. 

“What would you guys like for dessert?” Rhys asked, listing off a few options. I stopped paying attention after chocolate cake because who would want to hear anything else?

“I’m afraid we better get on the road, it is a long drive back to our home. Thank you for dinner, it was delicious,” Arthur stood up from the table, shaking Rhys’s hand. “Cassian, a word, please?”

With a deep breath, Cassian stood up and followed the old man out of the room. 

“Okay, now that he’s gone, can we all agree that there is something wrong with him? I’ve never seen him so… so rigid in my life,” Mor blew out air from her lips, shaking her head. 

I offered a tad bit of insight. “Dana and Arthur are kind of fed up with me so they’re just gonna take off. And leave me here. But don’t worry, I’m just gonna find a bus stop in the morning and be gone before any of you wake up. No biggie.”

The room was silent except for my fork scratching on the plate. When I looked up, everyone was looking at me funny.

“Ira, what? They’re gonna leave you here?” Mor gasped.

“It is a long story. And they think I need a role model to get my life together. Why Cassian is that role model I’ll never understand because the last I knew of him he was just as irresponsible as I was.”

Rhys took a sip of wine, “How long has it been since you’ve seen each other?”

“Six years. But I mean you all probably know him better than I ever did so, might wanna ask that prick why he abandoned me.” I took a big piece of this chocolate cake into my mouth. “Fuck, this is good.”

“What happened?” Feyre prodded.

“We are lightyears away from you being able to ask that,” I laughed. “No offense but, it’s none of your fucking business.”

Again, the room was silent, except for a small snort at the end of the table. It wasn’t Elain because she was so red she looked like she was gonna pass out. And the only other one was Azriel. 

“Hint taken,” Rhys pressed his lips in a flat line. “Well, you are Cassian’s family, so you are always welcome in our home.”

“Trust me, I don’t want to be here any more than you want me to be. I’ll figure it out, I always have. It’ll be like I was never here,” I took another forkful and shoved it in. Damn, I was gonna miss this cake. “So, Rhys, you own a casino and a hotel. What do the rest of you do?”

I’ll pretend like I care for my own amusement.  

“Well, Cassian runs the casino and hotel,” Rhys pointed out again. “Azriel owns and runs the adjacent club. We basically have our own empire here.”

“Sounds riveting,” I rolled my eyes. “What about you Mor.”

“I am the best fucking bartender this place has seen,” she grinned. “And I model here and there.” “Wonderful.” So she’s a princess. Got it. 

“I have an art studio. I teach classes and do some workshops,” Feyre said. “But most of the time I am at home with our son Nyx. He is… he’s a handful. A spoiled handful.”

“Hey,” Mor said, “to be fair, he is the first kid in our group, what did you expect?”

“He’s barely two, he doesn’t need designer clothes that he won’t fit into after a few months anyway. It's a waste of money.”

“Feyre, darling, I don’t know if you’ve looked around, but we kind of have a lot of money. It could use some wasting,” Rhys patted her thigh under the table. 

I can only hope to have enough financial security to be able to say sentences like that. They could probably retire right now, all of them, and never make a dent in their fortune. Lucky bastards. 

“What is it that you do, Ira?” Azriel poked his head from around Mor. 

“Oh,” I sputtered. What the hell was I supposed to say? Certainly the fact that I commit petty crimes won’t go over well. “I’ve had a lot of jobs. I don’t have a set career yet.”

“So hot-wiring cars is just a hobby then?” 

A stream of water shot out of Mor’s mouth and onto the table. How did he even hear that?

“It’s a skill. Don’t come crying to me when your battery dies and you don’t wanna pay a hundred and fifty dollars for AAA to come and pick up your ass,” I deflected. Another skill I had built up over the years. 

“And the locks?” Wow, he was kind of an asshole with supersonic hearing. I could see why he and Cassian hung around together. 

“I was a locksmith,” I mustered up my best smile and scooted my chair so I was sitting at an angle.

“Ah, so it wasn’t just the ‘cops and robbers’ you and Cassie used to play growing up. Good to know,” Azriel wiped the corners of his mouth with his napkin. He stood up, saying something about having to leave because he had to open up. 

Just as he was walking by, I stuck my toe into the walkway and he tripped over me. Azriel all but went through the wall, Cassian coming around at the last second and catching his arm. 

“You alright?” He asked as Azriel straightened himself out. 

“Yup. Fine.” The glare he gave me sent a smirk curling at my lips. Two can play that game, mother fucker. 

I, very gracefully, scratched the corner of my nose with my middle finger. He got the message. But so did Cassian.

“Your stuff is in the driveway. Go get it and meet me upstairs.” Cassian looked so pissed off. His shoulders were pinned to his ears again as he stalked away, that silence settling back in the room. 

“Guess that’s my cue to get a move on. Thank you everyone, a pleasure to meet you all,” I said with a genuine tone. They were all cool.  

The three duffle bags and backpack were not light as I carried them up the stairs, trying not to knock over all the decorations and pictures on the wall. One of them didn’t survive. It crashed all the way down and shattered on the hardwood floor. Cassian cursed from somewhere. 

With a thud, I let go of all the bags in some random room at the end of the hall. It was barely big enough to call a hobbit hole. There wasn’t a window or a real bed, just some cot with a pillow and a blanket. “Glamourous.”

“It’s the best that I could do,” Cassian all but rolled his eyes. 

“A couch would’ve been better,” I plopped down on the taught fabric, bouncing a little. “Sorry about the frame.” “It’s fine,” he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look, Ira I’m sorry about how I left you.” “Yeah well apologies don’t mean a fucking thing to me unless you fix it, Cassian,” I folded my arms over my chest. “And for the record, I would’ve understood if you would’ve just fucking told me what was going on. Instead, not only did you not tell me, you ghosted me.” I just blinked up at him, waiting for an explanation. “Well?”

Nothing. Not even a strangled breath. “I just had to.”

“That’s the best you can do? Are you seriously still that fucking thick in the head?” “I didn’t have a choice, Ira,” he shouted. 

“Yes,” I nodded. “You absolutely had a choice. You could’ve at least left me a fucking note with a number on it so I could talk to you. You were all I had, Cass. All I fucking had and you just disappeared. What did you expect me to do?”

Cassian shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I-I don’t know. I thought you’d get yourself together and make it out too. Build your own empire, like the one we have here.”

“In case you forgot, I didn’t get to finish school like you did.”

“Well that’s not my fault.”

The fucking nerve. I stood up, barely coming to his chest, and smacked him across the face. His head jerked to the side, and his mouth fell open. I shoved him into the wall on the other side of the hallway and he fell into it. 

“You are a piece of fucking shit Cassian.”

“Ira–” “Did you really think that I would end up alright without you there? Could you really be that fucking stupid?”

“I didn’t think that–”

“Of course you didn’t. You never have. You’ve only ever thought about yourself and what would benefit you. You never gave a shit about me, I was just a burden you couldn’t get rid of.” “That’s not true,” he gritted his teeth. 

“Tell me that I am not a constant reminder of dad. Or mom. Tell me.” I waited for a response. When nothing came, I felt the nausea roll through my body. “You are one sorry son of a bitch Cassian.”

“Jesus Ira you think I wanted to abandon you?” “You haven’t given me one other reason to believe anything different,” I was screaming now. I didn’t care if anyone else heard. “The last memory I have of you is seeing you packing a fucking bag and climbing out your window, what else am I supposed to believe about you?”

A door clicked open, and Azriel emerged. He looked at us with raised eyebrows. “Everything alright?” 

No, you fucking prick. 

“Just re-kindling our sibling rivalry,” I gave a mocking look, staring down Azriel. “Mind your own damn business. This doesn’t concern you.”

“Ira,” Cassian said, somewhat appalled. 

“Just fuck off, Cassian,” I waved my hand at him. “Like I said, I’ll be gone in the morning and you don’t ever have to worry about making it up to me again because you won’t be able to. Hope you are happy living in your perfect little bubble with your perfectly little circle. Hope they’re all more important to you than I ever was.”

I slammed the door shut quicker than he could get a response out, leaning against it. I hadn’t ever realized that I was shaking.

Whatever. Fuck him too. I don’t need Cassian. I haven’t needed him for the past six years. God, has it really been that long?

There was no use in unpacking so I just piled the bags in the corner of the room. And there was also nothing to do besides lay down simply because there wasn’t enough room to do anything else. 

Maybe when everyone has gone to sleep, or home, I’ll go sneak around. Take something just to piss him off. Nothing too valuable, but something really inconvenient like all the salt and pepper shakers or all the spoons. 

Or one of the Corvettes in the driveway.

My mind was racing with thoughts, but eventually I had fallen asleep because the sun was peeking through the crack under my door. I stirred and sat up, sighing loudly. 

I changed into a hoodie and some other jeans, slipping my jacket on knowing it'll be chilly. 

With far more precision, I made it downstairs to the front door. It unlocked easily, thankfully no alarm system went off. The crisp morning greeted me and I slipped out silently. 

Fuck, this driveway was long. Couldn’t they be normal and have a normal fucking sized driveway? It was so unnecessary. 

And of course there was nothing at the end of it. Just the road and nothing else. Not another house or anything. Who knows how far it could be until a bus station. Hopefully this place wasn’t filled with a bunch of weirdos and I wouldn’t get kidnapped. 

The thought of carrying all these bags for miles would tear up my back and shoulders. I didn’t have that much but… I needed all of it. 

“Ira!”

I whirled around and saw a Cassian shaped silhouette coming down the driveway. Oh great. 

“Come to demand I pay for the broken frame?” “Stay.”

What? “What?”

Cassian breathed heavily, “Stay. I-I am so sorry for what I said. And you’re right, I don’t ever think of anyone other than myself. And I’m sorry I never told you where I was going. I want to fix it, but I can’t if you don’t at least let me try.”

I dropped the bags, totally not believing what I was hearing. “And what if I don’t give a flying fuck if you want to or not?”

Cassian completely deflated. “Please, Ira. I made a promise to mom and dad that I would look after you. There hasn’t been a day that’s gone by where I don’t feel like a piece of shit for what I did. I miss you.”

So what if he made a promise to mom and dad? He made a promise to me. To always stick together. To always be there. He hung me out to dry before I even had a chance to notice. His apology means nothing. His desperation means nothing. 

I fucking hated Cassian. More than anything right now I wanted to watch him be boiled alive. Could he really even help me anyway? What was the fucking point of any of this? I was already humiliated, and dragging innocent people into my bullshit surely didn’t help. 

I sucked in a big breath, hiking my bag up on my shoulder, ready to bolt. “Why should I?”

“Because what other option do you realistically have?” 

“That is not fair,” I flare my nostrils. “You have no right to waltz back into my life and pretend you give a shit about me.”

“You were the one who was dropped on my doorstep,” Cassian pointed out, making my stomach drop. 

“You know, you’re doing a shit job at showing that you legitimately want me to stay, asshole.” I was getting a little angry. Good things did not happen when I felt betrayed. “And for the record, I tried to talk them out of bringing me here, but they went around me and got a fucking court order. So, whether you want to believe it or not, it was not my choice to be here. I can’t even go back with Dana and Arthur because there will be a warrant out for my arrest.”

“Shit…” Cassian dragged a hand over his face. “Ira I’m-”

“Sorry? I know. But you lost the privilege of my forgiveness long ago. It is gonna take a hell of a lot more than ‘I’m sorry’ to fix what you’ve done to me.”

“I know, I know,” Cassian softened his eyes and his voice, standing tall in front of me. “Just… give me something. Anything, and I will never betray you ever again.”

Should I believe him? I have no fucking idea what to do. All my senses are telling me to run and don’t look back, but that gaping pit in my stomach that formed when he left seems a little less… gaping.  

This was gonna be a rough fucking time. Nothing about this is going to be easy, but… he was right. I didn’t have another option. Prison, if I really was desperate, but I didn’t quite feel like losing all my basic human rights.

If he wanted me to stay, there were going to have to be some sacrifices on his end.

Maybe a little room for petty behavior. 

“I want a real fucking room.” I demanded

“Any one in the house.”

“I want yours.”

“Absolutely not,” Cassian furrowed his brow. “Plus, I don’t even live here anymore. Just Rhys, Feyre and Nyx. Nesta, Azriel and I live in the next town.”

“So what, you all just visit together and pretend to be a big happy family?” I scoffed, kicking a stone. 

“We don’t pretend, Ira,” he didn’t say it rudely, but more matter of fact-ly. And he looked at me like I had never known what a family was. I guess he forgot that when he left it kind of ruined me. Or again maybe he just didn’t care what it would do to me back then. 

Cassian looked sad. Not depressed or upset, just sad. 

“Your room or I’m gonna walk away right now.” There was no room for negotiating in my voice. I could see the conflict in his eyes, but with a sigh he gave in. 

“Fine, you can have my room,” Cassian rolled his eyes dramatically. 

“Was that so hard?”

“Yes,” he nodded. “Actually it was. I spent weeks designing that room. All for it to go to fucking waste.”

“Sucks to suck I guess,” I smirked, shouldering two of my bags. I took a long, non-rage-filled look at my brother. Man… he looked so different. Six years is a long time to not see someone. 

I gotta make this work. “I’m gonna work hard, you know. I’m tired of always being in the fucking mud.”

“Yup. Me too.” Nice, asshole. “You’re going to have to follow some rules and check in. This isn’t going to be a free-for-all, you’re gonna have a curfew.”

“A curfew? What am I, thirteen?”

“Until you can prove to me that you’re not gonna go and rob a bank, yes, you’ll have a curfew,” Cassian picked up my other bags and started walking back to the house. “We’re gonna find you a job because I will not be funding your operation.”

“What happened to ‘we have a lot of money. It could use some wasting’?”

“Rhys wasn’t wrong,” Cassian said. “But just because we have it doesn’t mean you get access to it.”

“Jeez, sorry I brought it up, grumpy pants. And what kind of rules anyway?”

“We’ll talk about it later. Some of us like to get a full eight hours of sleep every day so I am going back to bed. You’re not allowed to leave the house until I say so, so find something to do.”

“Or someone,” I whispered to myself. But Cassian heard. “A joke.”

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you eye fucking Azriel,” Cassian practically gagged. “That is one of your rules. You are not allowed to be engaged with him in any type of way. The last thing he needs right now is you.”

“Right to the heart. And please, I could do better.” That part was debatable for sure. 

“I mean it, he’s been through a lot the past year and a half. It took him a long time to get to where he is and I won’t let you ruin it for him,” Cassian said possessively. “He, along with everyone else, is my family. Fuck with them and you’re dealing with me.” “News flash, buddy, so am I. We share the same DNA, and hair and eyes according to everyone else on the fucking planet.”

“Ira, I’m serious. If you fuck around with Azriel and I find out I sweat to–”

“Jesus, calm down Vengeance. Gotham is safe from the Joker,” I followed him inside, clicking the door shut behind me. “I won’t get involved with Azriel.”

“Good.”

He carried the bags to his car, telling me we’d make it to his house sometime in the afternoon. After that? I just… wandered. I looked in the kitchen, grabbing an orange and a few granola bars from the pantry. I slipped out the back door to the pool and sat on one of the lounge chairs. 

The sunrise was full of oranges and golds. Much different from the other sunrises I’m used to up on the roof. The soft wind blew the water in the pool, making gentle lapping noises. I closed my eyes. Stretched my legs. 

I’ve gotta be careful or I might get used to this. 

I know the ending of this book. Read these pages, seen the titles. It’s gonna be no fucking different. I’ll give it the good ol’ college try, but it’s never gonna fucking work. I’ll do something stupid, piss off the wrong person and Cassian will kick me to the curb. Just a waiting game. 

Nothing I can do about it, so I might as well see where fate takes me.

[withthewindinherfootsteps]

Wei Wuxian and Narrative Agency – Part Three

For Xiantober Day Five: Past and Present, in which the author gets very unhinged about what parts of the past are shown and how that’s affected by the present!

(Part One | Part Two | Full version on AO3)

The Power of Agency: Shaping the Narrative

When I've discussed Wei Wuxian's agency previously, I’ve talked about how what’s shown and omitted tells us about a character, and we’ve talked about the character himself. Though this is a niche topic, it’s not necessarily something out of the ordinary to analyse, and we can assume everything up to here has been in some way intentional.

This? Linking structure to a character’s in-universe preferences?

This is where we get unhinged.

Before I start, let’s quickly establish something which will be important later: although Wei Wuxian is the central character, MDZS isn’t strictly from his POV. While omitting events a character doesn’t like to dwell on and concealing things the character wishes to hide is common in books with only one narrator, MDZS has multiple narrators which it switches between relatively quickly. This includes Wei Wuxian, but it also includes nearly every major character that appears in the story, and omniscient narrator as well. As a default, this format doesn’t lead to this deliberate shaping and omission because of one character’s preferences, since we have many other sources of information and events – which is what makes Wei Wuxian’s influence over the narrative and structure so interesting. We could have access to a lot more information, and access to it at different times, than we do (and that’s not an insult, quite the opposite!).

To begin: we’ve established that times such as Wei Wuxian’s time on the streets, his three months in the Burial Mounds and his loss in the Siege aren’t shown because Wei Wuxian has little agency there. But that’s not the only special thing about them. They’re also the three most traumatic times in his life, and so moments Wei Wuxian himself either can’t remember, or doesn’t like to dwell on.

This is why discussing Wei Wuxian’s treatment of tragedy in his life was important. Firstly, it shows he doesn’t focus on the tragedy in his life, so the idea that the narrative not focusing on this tragedy relates to his character has merit; secondly, it affirms that this is not a passive trait, but a choice. Therefore, when the narrative omits events due to this aspect of Wei Wuxian, it’s respecting not only a character detail – which would be cool by itself – but also an active decision. One that shapes the story it’s made in.

In other words, its very structure is respecting Wei Wuxian’s agency!

Now, of course there are flashbacks to other moments of his past he probably wouldn’t like to dwell on, too. But within the structure, they’re only shown when Wei Wuxian is thinking about them (or when he has reason to)!

Wei WuXian hadn’t woken up yet. His eyes were still tightly shut, yet his hand didn’t let go either. He seemed to be dreaming, muttering, “… Don’t… Don’t be angry…” Lan WangJi seemed somewhat surprised. His voice was gentle, “I am not angry.” Wei WuXian, “… Oh.” Hearing this, as though he finally felt assured, his fingers loosened. Lan WangJi sat beside Wei WuXian for a while. Seeing that he was motionless again, he was about to stand up when Wei WuXian grabbed him with his other hand, hugging his arm and refusing to let go. He shouted, “I’ll go with you, quick, take me back to your sect!” Chapter 63, EXR translation

Which, of course, is him dwelling on…

Lan WangJi spoke one word at a time, “Go back to Gusu with me.” Hearing this, both Wei WuXian and Jiang Cheng were surprised. Quickly afterward, Wei WuXian laughed, “Go back to Gusu with you? To the Cloud Recesses? Why go there?” He immediately seemed to realize, “Oh. I forgot. Your uncle Lan QiRen hates crooked people like me. You’re his proudest disciple, so of course you’re the same as him, haha. I refuse.” Chapter 62, EXR translation

…the painful flashback immediately preceding this. The third set of flashbacks (which are also painful) are a similar case. Look at the contex:

He lifted the bottom of his robe, revealing a prosthetic leg made of wood, “This leg of mine was destroyed by you, that night in the Nightless City (…)” (…) “Wei WuXian, I won’t ask you if you remember or not. Both of my parents died by your hands. You owe too many people. You definitely won’t remember them either. But, I, Fang MengChen, will never forget! And never forgive you!” (…) “In the fight at Qiongqi Path, my son was strangled to death by your dog Wen Ning!” “My shixiong died by poison, his entire body festering due to your cruel curse!” Chapter 68 (immediately preceding the flashbacks), EXR translation

And Wei Wuxian’s own thoughts and words:

Wei WuXian looked at the cultivators before the Demon-Slaughtering Cave. Their expressions were the absolute same as those of the cultivators from the night of the pledge conference, pouring their wine on the ground as they took the pledge to scatter the ashes of the Wen Sect’s remnants and him.  (…) Wei WuXian, “Now it’s time to ask just whom it is that treasures it so much. It’s like Wen Ning. Back then, some certain sects or so were scared to death of the Ghost General. They said they’d kill him on the surface, but behind their backs they hid him for over ten years. How strange. Who was the one that said his ashes had been scattered back then?” Chapter 79 (immediately succeeding the flashbacks), EXR translation 

Once again, Wei Wuxian’s own thoughts relate to the flashbacks we’ve just been shown. And, as I previously mentioned, though all the events which are shown are tragic, they’re also events which Wei Wuxian’s own choices and actions shaped – which he has this to say about:

“The things I did, not only do you remember them, I remember them too. You won’t forget them, and they’ll stay even longer in my mind!” Chapter 82, EXR

Admittedly, this applies more to the third set of flashbacks than the second (which is still fitting as the third set was the most recent), as in the second, although he still had agency within and influence over his circumstances, the majority of the pain was caused by others’ actions (excluding, of course, the Golden Core transfer… which is something we know stays for a long time in his mind, albeit with a caveat we’ll soon discuss). But it’s still important to note – especially considering that otherwise, focusing on this very painful time in his life wouldn’t seem like something very in-character for Wei Wuxian to do.

Of course, this can all just be explained by good writing. It is best to insert flashbacks when they’re relevant to the characters and events in the present day! But it is interesting to compare these to the start of the (not painful) Gusu flashbacks, which open this way:

At a later time, Wei WuXian pondered upon the reason why his relationship with Lan WangJi wasn’t good. Getting to the root of the matter, everything started when he was fifteen, coming to the GusuLan Sect with Jiang Cheng to study for three months. Chapter 13, EXR

Again, considering the circumstances around which these flashbacks take place – returning to the Cloud Recesses for the first time since the lectures, and meeting Lan Wangji once more – it makes complete sense for Wei Wuxian to be thinking about these events*. So it does fit the pattern of Wei Wuxian dwelling on something, thus leading to the narrative dwelling on it, too (and being shaped by his thoughts)… but there’s another layer to this. Importantly, it is the only flashback where Wei Wuxian’s present thoughts don’t lead to this happening, with his thoughts at an unspecified future time leading to it, instead. I like to interpret this as the text saying that, since these events aren’t something Wei Wuxian wouldn’t focus on in normal circumstances, he can dwell on them at any time. Therefore, they’re free to come up in the narrative at any time as well, even if he’s not dwelling on them in the present moment!

So, to summarise: Wei Wuxian’s decision not to focus on the painful times in his life directly influences the narrative to not focus on these times. When painful times are brought up and shown to us, it’s in the context of him thinking about them in the present day, and even then, his most painful moments still aren’t shown to us. His agency in this regard is still respected by the narrative structure.

This is the main way his agency influences the structure of the narrative, but I’d like to talk about the revealing and concealing of information, too. For example, I said I’d talk about the Golden Core transfer – though Wei Wuxian does think about this many times, as evidenced by his internal narration in Chapter 103. But unlike everything we’re shown through the flashbacks, this is something Wei Wuxian is actively trying to hide from others. And the narrative respects this choice (Wei Wuxian’s agency, again), never reveals it even when it would be relevant in the flashbacks, and we find out not through narration, but through a character’s dialogue!

And to clarify – I know these aspects may not be in the book for this exact reason. Showing flashbacks in relevant moments is good writing, concealing an important plot point you want to do a reveal for is necessary writing, and MXTX has said she didn’t want to write about Wei Wuxian’s time in the Burial Mounds, due to not liking to write transformation sequences (and also because it would not be pleasant at all, which likely also applies to Wei Wuxian’s death). That doesn’t prevent it from also being intentional – MXTX’s intelligence is shown in many aspects of this book, and there’s nothing disproving it – but there’s no proof for either option, so I won’t pretend there is. I bring this up because I know this feels like I’m overanalysing, as I feel that way as well.

But, whether it’s intentional or not, it exists in the text, and I adore it – so, regardless, it’s something I’ll explore. Because taking this into account… We aren't just told about Wei Wuxian having agency, we aren’t just shown it in the text, we aren’t even just shown it through which parts of his past are shown and hidden in the structure of the text (as I talked about in Part One). The parts of the past that are shown and hidden also have an in-universe reason for being shown and hidden, this reason being the choices he makes! Agency is the ability of a character to influence the story they’re in, but Wei Wuxian’s agency, as a property of a character who only exists in-universe, shapes the out-of-universe structure as well! That’s how we’re shown its importance! How cool is that?

At The End Of The Road: Summary and Final Thoughts

In this essay, we’ve covered how important Wei Wuxian’s agency is not only to the events of the plot, but to the structure of the narrative as well. The narrative omits periods in which Wei Wuxian has little or no agency, in favour of showing us periods in which he does, even when important events happened in the former. This indicates that who Wei Wuxian is without agency isn’t important enough to be shown to the audience, and therefore that his agency is an integral aspect of his character in MDZS. We’ve discussed how both in-universe and out-of-universe, tragedy does not define him – out-of-universe, the tragic events in Wei Wuxian’s life are used not to build sympathy but rather to show his strength of character and who he still is despite going through them; and in-universe, he chooses not to focus on the negativity and resentment caused by his circumstances or others’ actions, instead staying true to his moral compass and enjoying his life in the present day. Finally, we’ve also explored how this choice is another reason for the omission of certain events from the narrative, resulting in his agency shaping the story in a very literal way – it affects the out-of-universe structure, as well.

It’s quite fitting, for a story whose essence is about defying a conventional narrative – that of righteous clans rising up and defeating a great evil – and about a character who defies many conventional narratives on his own – that of status defining how skilled you could be, that for a golden core being necessary for cultivation and other paths being unavailable, that of a tragic but complete story of someone killed for staying true to their moral code (instead, that character returns to life and has a happy ending) – to have its own narrative play a role in such an important and interesting way.

(Or, if an image would be preferable:)

Thank you for reading!

(Part One | Part Two | Full version on AO3)

--

*This strong relation to the present day circumstances is another reason I love the flashback placement so much (and why I think it’s such a loss both screen adaptions altered it so strongly)! 

[cloveroctobers]

FEBRUARY FLUFF — JUAN “JUICE” ORTIZ.

A/N: Juice was always my man when it came to SOA and I’ll forever be traumatized and bitter over his storyline + how he was treated. That’s probably one of the reasons why I’ll never do a rewatch tbfh. In my mind he’s thriving and I’ve always wanted happiness for him and that’s what he’s gonna get here! Also my first time ever writing for this man so go easy on me although this is more HC (my version) form. Have a happy love day whether it’s with a significant other, family, friends, or just yourself! know that you’re always worthy and capable of receiving and giving love and not just on this one day of the year 🩷🫡

PROMPTS ARE FROM HERE + I’m using: 19. "can i see your hand?" / "sure, why?" / "so i can see how well it fits with mine." + 35. "let's take a stupid walk for our stupid mental health!"

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩

When you got word from your mother that Juan was back in town for good, you had to see so for yourself.

January’s always been gloomy but when you came face to face with the man you haven’t seen in years at the front door of his mother’s, you wanted to collapse but managed to keep your composure.

Juan’s sad but somewhat still warm eyes are unsure at first, taking in your facial expression but you clear his concerns as you’re yanking him tightly to your body in a tender embrace.

And he feels like he might just break down himself in your arms.

You were just what he needed.

The both of you had to make up for lost time and Juan had to keep convincing you that he wasn’t going anywhere.

Things didn’t work out in his favor in California (little did you know, he barely made it out alive) and Juan never wanted you to visit, although your older brother and his girlfriend, Saskia lived out there—which means you took trips but in a sense you learned to accept that was Juan’s way of protecting you from the demons that latched onto his soul.

You couldn’t take it personally since Ms. Hilda, his mother never visited either but spoke to him every couple of months—which may have been hard or if not harder for her.

Although the both of your mother’s were good friends that didn’t mean the both of you didn’t have your share of childhood trauma’s (because of them) that bled into your adulthood.

Nonetheless the both of you spent a month reconnecting, taking each day by day as it took to rebuild a friendship.

It felt right having Juan back in your life and he can honestly say the same.

“I never knew how much I missed you until I saw your face again,” he said to you over the phone one night.

Juan’s always been a sweetheart and never had an issue expressing his love for you to the point many kids back in school questioned if you were dating.

It never happened but that didn’t mean Juan didn’t want it to yet you found yourself in a few relationships here and there. Which was brought up by your mother during a birthday dinner for your brother (who was visiting) that February.

“I find it hard to believe that you’re still single. I mean hell, when is anybody going to give me a grandchild?” Your mother chatted over a glass of Cabernet playfully glaring at your brother who cleared his throat before setting her eyes back on you, “You know I saw Marlon just the other day?”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes at this. You’ve only been at the table for ten minutes, supposedly going over the menu and yet here your mother was worrying about children and your love life.

And she just had to bring your college ex into it.

“Really,” you gave faux interest as you viewed the entrees.

“Mhm. He’s been divorced for a few years now and he’s single. I even showed him a picture of you to see if he remembered you. He laughed about it and said he thought you were with Juan now.”

Your brother is coughing now on his own drink and his girlfriend of four years is patting him on the back.

Glancing to your right you stare at Juan rubbing at his face in thought, who mentally seemed to be having a tough day today. He stayed at your house last night and apologized over breakfast about how he got into these dark moods.

You assured him that he didn’t have to apologize for his feelings. Asking if he wanted to be your plus one tonight, only if it was up for it.

He’d push through it for you because he was devoted to being near you as much as possible since he didn’t want to lose anymore time with his best friend.

How would Marlon assume this? You’re turning back to your mother now, furrowed brows while you reply, “why did he think that?”

“He said he saw the both of you running around the park together. He wanted to say hi but you and Juan seemed to be racing and he didn’t want to interrupt.” Your mother informs, staring at you two underneath her eyelashes with her lips moving back to the rim of her glass.

This didn’t make you feel any sort of way because you also haven’t seen Marlon in years either. You weren’t really checking for him but—the breakup didnt turn sour—it was mutual! however it was interesting to see different perspectives on how people viewed you and Juan.

Juan was gone from New York by the time you both reached your early twenties and by then you were still with Marlon. Juan would visit up at school and hung out with you two a couple of times! even when Marlon tried to put him onto some college girls…there was a part of Juan that felt like he was guilty of something.

Even when he engaged in activities—sure it may have felt great in the moment but he always ended up feeling like shit since he wanted it to be you.

So yes you were part of the reason why he got out of New York and to find a better sense of direction for himself.

You’re shrugging your shoulders redirecting the conversation, “well..I’m sorry things didn’t work out with his wife.”

“Are you?”

“Mom! Chill.” Your brother stepped in which you were somewhat thankful for. Why were you always getting shit on when you knew it was on the tip of your mother’s tongue that your brother “should” be thinking about marriage since she hinted at you once before during your girl’s day.

Although you and your dad both were aware that your brother didn’t want to get married.

“I’m just saying you should think about it or what about that guy from high school? The funny looking one.”

“They were both goofy to me. Especially Stu.” Your brother snorted while you shielded your middle finger from your mother to direct at your sibling.

Your first boyfriend was senior year and he cheated on you with a redhead because he got dumped prior to asking you out. It made sense to him but definitely not to you.

Yeah that’s highschool stupidity for you!

Juan shuddered at the mention of your first boyfriend, “man that guy? He was ridiculously obnoxious in and outside of class and hung out with that other guy…the one who gave me serious serial killer vibes.”

“You did always say that,” you laughed to yourself and couldn’t deny it. You never wanted to be alone with Stu’s best friend at the time, the way his dark eyes bored into yours always made you feel uneasy.

“He’s harmless!” Stu would persuade you before always leaving you with him for at least a minute or two.

Your mother pried, “Well where is he now?”

“Hell if I know? Probably married to another redhead with three or four kids? Still possibly cheating? What is this, a walk down memory lane?”

Juan could sense you were getting agitated about this and placed his hand right above your knee which made you exhale.

Your mother is raising her hands, “I’m just looking out for you and your brother’s happiness. That’s all.”

“I am happy. Go dig in his business then, it’s his birthday anyway.” You suggested while your mother just scoffed.

Raising your brows, your mother continued knowing that you were always ready to challenge her, “I will but when’s the last time you’ve been in a serious relationship?”

“Are you the expert when it comes to relationships now? You waited six months after the divorce from dad to get married to someone else. You settled for dad’s bullshit for years and now suddenly you want to micromanage what goes on in mine? Are you keeping this same energy with your step kids?”

Your brother is calling your name as a warning now but you couldn’t lie and say you weren’t triggered.

growing up having your mother constantly in your ear saying to you, “you’ll never get a bf because of xyz.” Simply from little stupid things you would do as a pre-teen to teenage years was damaging because you were just an insecure kid not worrying about romantic relationships in the slightest. Although you had a mother who seemed to be more concerned about the male gaze for you.

So what if your room got messy? So what if there were days where you didn’t want to be bothered with your hair? Or was too much in grown folks business when your mother would gossip on the phone about inappropriate subjects right in front of you! while also bringing up all of your business to her friends or family members like some sort of humiliation tactic and then never taking your emotions into account when you voiced your discomfort?

Don’t get it wrong, of course you had love for your mother but you couldn’t erase what was said and done. A list of things that still stuck with you and things that you should perhaps just “let go of,” yet she still felt comfortable to talk about your love life like you were some low self-esteem kid.

You never had that relationship where you felt safe to share anything with your mother because of her critiques.

“Hold on now, I’m just trying to make conversation—

“You don’t need to. Not when it comes with an opinion i never asked for to match.”

Then comes the tears and Saskia is tending to her, whisking your mother away to the bathroom with her crying to Sas about how she, “tries to be a good mother and these are the things she gets.”

“Did you have to do this on my day?” Your brother sighs while your eyes are in slits.

“You and dad are the exact same, always expecting me to just take it. I don’t give a damn if it was Easter, if she’s coming at me then I’m going to let her know. I know she’ll always be mom but she refuses to ever see my side on anything.”

“Why does it have to be about sides? We’re family at the end of the day.”

The famous excuse for it all so it seems!

“And we must always be on some we are the world bullshit too, no matter what huh?”

Juan covers his snort at this, which earns him a look from your brother, leaving Juan to mumble out an apology.

It’s quiet for a moment as your brother tries to figure out how to make this okay but you don’t want to stick around to continue this dinner. In your eyes it felt ruined already.

Only seconds pass when you decide it’s best if you go. You’re on your feet, slipping back into your outerwear before wrapping an arm across your brother’s shoulders squeezing him as you peck his temple.

“Love you, mean it. I’ll take you out myself at another time.” You say as all your older brother can do is nod his head, briefly resting his hand on top of yours before you let go.

You’re peering at Juan who’s still seated and say, “want to take a walk with me?”

“Sure, whatever you want, yeah!” He sits up before grabbing his beanie and jacket, “I don’t care.”

You quickly begin to walk off before your sas and your mom come back, sending a silent message to your old friend that you’ll be outside.

Your brother tells Juan, “look after my sister, okay?”

“You got it,” Juan says, wishing the older man another birthday wish before making his way out to you.

The both of you are now walking side by side, enjoying the city’s lights and each other’s company.

“Thanks for coming with me. The longer I sat there getting into it with my mom the faster my brain was telling me to get the fuck out. I figured: let's take a stupid walk for our stupid mental health!"

Juan chuckles at this, “I know what you mean. I also had a disagreement with my sister too before I crashed at yours.”

That revealed just a dash about what led to Juan’s mood last night.

“Yeah?” Your eyes peep to the left of you at the beanie-wearing man, “You want to talk about it?”

It wasn’t much different with what went down with you and yours. Except Juan’s mother was the one to break it up and scold him for defending himself against his sister.

She still felt like he didn’t have himself together (despite the fact that he was now working at a mechanic shop and had a side tech gig at an outlet mall—paid under the table now! If you’re talking about his mental then that was a different story!) either and was the main one who told him not to go out to California. She begged him to stay and that began their estrangement.

His sister blamed him for his own unhappiness and if he would have stayed here maybe he wouldn’t have dealt with that darkness charming brought him.

Which hurt to hear.

He walks even closer to you now as he said, “nah, not really if that’s okay?”

“What?” You lightly bumped his shoulder, “Course it is, just know you can when you want to.”

He gives you a lopsided smile, “Thanks.”

You loop an arm around Juan’s waist, resting your head against his shoulder, as you blended into the city together.

Juan’s dreamed of times like these except you were miles apart but hearts still in sync.

The silence between you two lets you know that you’re both holding onto something so heavy but find that it doesn’t weigh as much when you’re both near each other.

By the time you’re making your way back to your side of town, one subway ride later and more miles to walk back to your place—the night feels like any normal routine.

Eventually the both of you fall into chatter and soft smiles as you continue your rest on the subway, head tucked underneath juice’s chin that his facial hair still pricks your thick hair but you don’t mind.

You’re both laughing about old times when you reach your 1975 raised ranch, half standing on the steps and you’re wiping the tears from the corner of your eyes, “you coming in?”

The last thing Juan wanted to do was head back to his ma’s side of town so a dip of his head was all that you needed, sending him a smile and a nudge of your head to welcome him back inside.

“We gotta eat something although you’re really not supposed to eat after seven…”Juan says to you after kicking off his shoes and heading straight from the main entrance pass the living room right to the kitchen.

“I forgot how much of a health freak you are.” You tease, hanging up your coats in the near by closet.

Juan’s mumbling to himself as he moves around the cut off kitchen, “And you need more fruits and veggies in here. What’s the point of having a juicer and having nothing to use it?”

“My common law sister in law? If you believe in that sort of thing! got it for me. It works as decoration,” You argued, “I can just go buy me a fruit or veggie juice.”

“And be wasteful of this beautiful gift?”

“If you want it, I’ll regift it to you for a belated Christmas gift then.” You sass, going to lean in the archway.

Juan shakes his head while he’s eyeing all the ingredients he’s laid out on the counter, “no point in doing that if I’m just going to be over here majority of the time anyway.”

“Oh is that right?”

“I mean…yeah…if you’re comfortable with that.”

You roll your eyes, “I’ll take you for as long as I can have you, Juanie and you know that.”

He casts a smile over his shoulder at you before waving his hand along formally towards the dining room, “have a seat. This won’t be anything extravagant since your selection of food kinda sucks…we’ll talk about that later but I need my work space clear.”

You saluted, “heard chef,” before you walked into the next room over.

Which leaves you to send off a text to your brother letting him know you both made it safe before choosing to browse social media.

The words of your mother did get into your head as you’re sitting here searching up your two exes and you laugh to yourself at how foolish you were being. You haven’t though about either of those two in a long time, not in the same way you thought about Juan nearly every day.

Yet here you were letting your mother get into your head again: about two men that didn’t hold meaning to your life now.

“Bon appetite.” Juan tells you after awhile, placing the plates down on the table and picking the seat right next to you.

“And what do we call this meal?”

“P.O. In 10. Which stands for: party’s over in ten minutes.”

You both stare at each other and let out a laugh, “how clever.”

A struggle meal of: ground turkey on ranch Doritos topped with cheese and left over black olives with a side of strawberry moscato was your dinner for that night and you didn’t dare complain.

Juan’s gone into one of his rapid conversations of one of his old friends, a guy named chibs that he would have loved for you to meet and of course you find it sweet that he still found someone to speak highly of when he’s vaguely told you that all was not well in charming.

“can i see your hand?" You suddenly ask the man who’s grown out his hair and sported facial hair that made him appear older.

Juan’s finishing off the last of his homemade nacho’s, stuffing his face but doesn’t hesistate as he places his smooth veiny but much larger one into yours, “sure, why?"

You’re tracing the lines of his palm and recall the time the both of you went to a palm reader on senior skip day for shits and giggles although Juan seemed to believe every word the lady said.

He said he had a great tía from Puerto Rico that he met once or twice who was very spiritual but different from a palm reader. His mother got pissed off when she brought her work to the house that one time when she was supposed to be looking after him and his sister.

That soon became Juan’s job.

You wondered about how these hands had to scrap their way through just to survive.

Then you explain, “so i can see how well it fits with mine." Before interlacing your right with his and Juan can’t help but to grin at you.

And there’s that boyish smile that spreads to the corners of his eyes that you can’t resist while he speaks with you, “You’re so cute, you’re corny. If you wanted to makeout, all you had to do was just say so.”

You don’t think about it, “alright, maybe I do.”

“What?! Don’t joke like that.” Juan’s eyes are wide now, ready to slip his hand right from yours.

“I’m not.” You lift your shoulders as Juan sits back in the chair with a sigh.

Juan’s staring at you with a curiosity that makes you want to look away but you can’t.

“What if all we needed was to just be honest with ourselves and look at what’s directly in front of us.”

“…I don’t follow.”

“Us, Juan! I always felt like i was waiting for something, even with the others after Stu and Marlon. There was always this pull and maybe that was you…and if this is all in my head just say that. You can tell me.”

Juan rubs at his face in thought. He already knew how he felt about you and how it never went away.

“No…it’s not all in your head. I don’t know if you know this but…you’ve always been it for me and I—learned to be okay with just being your best friend since that’s what you always wanted from me. I thought moving across the country was the answer but that only hurt us more.”

“Part of me felt like you didn’t care who I was with. You just took it for what it was.”

“You’re so wrong,” Juan scoffed out some laughter, “I just wanted you be happy and not be selfish about wishing it was me that got to do everything with you all the time. They took my space.”

You instantly reply, “Never could.”

“No?”

“No, blockhead.” You lightly grip and shake his shoulders.

“Now we’re down to the insults I see.”

You shrug with a smirk, “Let me kiss you…just to see.”

“See what?” Juan felt his heart hammering in his chest now, “That we’re completely in love with each other? A kiss won’t tell me what I don’t already know, babe.”

A scrunch of your nose is present, “Not you sounding like you don’t want to kiss me—

“What—no—

Sighing you got up from the chair and plopped right down in Juan’s lap, wrapping your arms across his shoulders and staring into his eyes that softened as they settled on your close proximity.

“You smell nice,” he awkwardly says, carefully placing his hands right down on your hip.

You laugh as you move your hands to cup his face, lightly caressing your thumbs over his facial hair, looking at his lips and then back to his eyes before you lean forward to place your lips right on his.

His hands tighten around you but his shoulders seem to relax. Juan can’t hold back the moan in the back of his throat that escapes his parted lips but that doesn’t stop him from kissing you back.

There’s tongue in there somewhere in the mix and the hold the both of you have on each other is enough to erase the miles that were once placed between you.

His hooked nose brushes against yours as you pull back, eyes closed and trying to catch your breath. His forehead rests against yours and Juan has to clear his throat and blink several times in hopes of getting rid of the static that sits in the center of his bottom lip.

“Wow,” he exhales with a grin while you’re playing with the strand of curls at the back of his head.

A satisfied smile is on your face, “What was that shit you were talking?”

“I wasn’t talking shit,” Juan frowns, “I was just saying that my heart already knows what it wants without putting my lips on yours. I loved you the moment your mom forced you to be my friend.”

You shake your head with a smile, “that didn’t take much force, Ortiz. I always thought you could be the one.”

“And…you never said anything why? That would have saved us a lot of time!”

You shrug, “I think our love story is meant to start now.”

“Nope it’s been a W.I.P. but now the progress is actually progressing…”

You squint, “With both of us tasting like Doritos and strawberry wine?”

“If it makes sense to mother universe then who am I to argue with her?”

“At least one of us gets it then.” You kiss his cheek and go to move off his lap but he yanks you right back, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

“Yeah, that maybe love’s always got our back in the end.”

“So…that’s what’s poking me right now?”

Juan feels his face burn, “Sorry—I—couldn’t help it.”

“I could—

“No. Nope. Not yet, let me just hold you and get used to the fact that I get to kiss you from now on. If…we get to labeling each other that is.”

“You want to be mine, Ortiz?”

“Don’t tell me you can’t tell.” He groans pressing his forehead into your shoulder leaving you laughing.

“Only if I get to be yours.”

“Fuck yeah!”

You nuzzle your face against his profile as you hum, “I’ll love you even more for the rest of my life Juan Carlos Ortiz…sounds like a plan?”

And he feels his heart swell at that, knowing that he didn’t have to be alone anymore the longer he had you in his arms.

“Sounds like the best plan, yet. And I love you too, so much.” He gently says into your ear before you turn to him again, capturing his lips once more.

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩

February fluff anthology series continues here.

[anangelwhodidntfall]

Promise You'll Be Safe: Tsu'tey

Avatar Masterlist 

word count: 800

description: You worry about Tsu’tey leaving and returning to you safety especially after what happened the last time he left you...

You always hated when Tsu'tey had to leave, it always brought up those feelings from when the Skypeople attacked and you nearly lost him. Sure he was only going to hunt but that didn't stop all those negative outcomes running through your mind, as you tried to be supportive of him and how happy he was about leading the hunting party. Tsu noticed how quiet you were during dinner, only talking when spoken to, and at first, he thought you were tired from work but then he noticed the sad look on your face as everyone kept talking about the hunting trip tomorrow which made him worry, and you seemed to cling to him more than normal not he minded but he was worried now.

"Yawne are you okay?" He asked pulling you into his lap.

"Just worried about the hunting trip is all." You quietly said playing with one of his braids.

"Why are you worried?" He asked even though he felt he knew why.

"Worried about you, especially after the last time you left. I almost.....I almost lost you last time...I'm just scared is all." You said blinking away the tears that were threatening to fall as Tsu felt his heart clench at how scared you were.

He remembers the sky people war and how he thought he would never see you again and how he fought to come back to you not wanting to leave you alone in this world. He remembers the nightmares you suffered for months after he returned and how you practically glued to his side 24/7 out of worry that something would happen to him while you were gone.  It wasn't until he felt one of your tears hit his skin that he snapped out of his thoughts and looked down at you seeing the sobs softly rake through your body and break his heart in the process.

"Yawne, look at me. Can you look at me please?" He asked as he slightly leaned back so he could look into your eyes.

"Sorry I know I'm such a crybaby." You said wiping your eyes.

"Hey you are not a crybaby..you and I both went through something very traumatic but I promise you that I would never leave you willingly.  You are my life sweetheart, and I hate seeing you like this. What can I do to make you feel better about leaving tomorrow? Cancel the trip? Because I will do it with no questions asked, you're the only thing important to me." He said holding your face in his hands.

"No my love I couldn't possibly ask you to do it, and plus I'll never work through this if you stay here...You can go just promise that you will come back to me alive and unharmed.." You said.

"I promise you, it's only a few days and I'll have multiple people there watching my back. But all I'll be doing during the trip is counting down the minutes until I'm back here with you." He said nuzzling his head into your skin.

"I love you Tsu." You said.

"I love you too, my love. Let's get some rest." He said picking you up and carrying you to ya'lls bed.

You saw him off before he left where he promised you in between a million kisses that he would return to you. Once he left you went home and rested for a bit more, before getting up to find Neytiri and see if she need help. Over the next few days helping Neytiri was a great distraction for both you and your mind as you waited for the hunting party to return.

"How are you doing ma y/n?" She asked you.

"I'm alright. Just a little worried about Tsu is all." You said to her.

"I'm sure he's alright and will be back to you any time now. Thank you for helping me out while Jake was gone." She said to you.

You were about to respond to her when the horn went off signaling the party was back causing you to abandon you were work and her as you rushed to go greet Tsu'tey. You arrived there and pushed through the people as you saw him climbing off his Ikran and smiled once he saw you. You ran directly into his arms as he picked up and hugged you tightly as you did the same, feeling your anxiety leave your body now that he was back.

"I missed you yawne." He said setting you down but keeping his arms around you.

"I missed you too, my love. I'm glad your back." You said to him.

[ncfan-1]

I’ve largely avoided news about the upcoming Star Wars movie regarding Rey. Anyone who was around when TROS comes out knows how I feel about it, and since I can’t remember if I ever said it out loud, I’ll say it now: TROS tainted my experience of the entire Sequel Trilogy. I have never watched any of the ST movies again since I watched TROS in theaters, not even TLJ, which in my frank opinion is stronger than TFA and TROS combined. I… I’m not sure how to feel about the Rey movie.

Just based on my memories of TROS, I can’t view the Sequel Trilogy as anything but Rey’s villain origin story. By the end of TROS, she is immensely powerful, most likely the most powerful Force user left alive in the galaxy, and on the same token, intensely isolated. Her relationships with Poe and Finn seem markedly strained; she doesn’t seem especially close to either of them. The one person she felt understood her is dead, and moreover, he died saving her life, which is such a can of worms where guilt and trauma is concerned. Who does she have who she can really confide her troubles in? Who does she have whom she can really lean on? She seems almost totally unmoored from the community she is ostensibly a part of, her ties to her friends superficial at best.

Moreover, she’s reverted back to a more extreme version of her getup from TFA and kept it at the end of the movie, suggesting that she’s regressed emotionally in some way. She certainly seems to be in deep denial about all of the traumatic things that have happened to her and all of the traumatic revelations she’s learned over the course of the three films. The fact that she latches on to ‘Skywalker’ as her new identity signals that she isn’t at peace with her own past and heritage, that she hasn’t addressed and resolved her own feelings about where she came from and who she is. She hasn’t addressed or resolved anything.

And then, to top it all off, we end with Rey in a spiritual wasteland, where her only companions are ghosts and a droid with the emotional maturity of a young child, and the movie leaves it extremely ambiguous as to whether Rey is only on Tatooine to visit, or if she intends to set up shop and live there. It all gives me an extremely ominous feeling about where Rey’s journey is supposed to go next. Maybe she doesn’t become a full-on villain, but unless her upcoming movie devotes a huge chunk of time in the beginning to having her actually work through everything that happened to her and everything that she learned, instead of just sinking further and further into denial about everything, Rey being remotely well-adjusted in that movie is going to come off as so tonally dissonant to me.

Like I said, she doesn’t have to be a full-on villain, but where I would naturally expect to see Rey next from TROS is to see her as a liminal figure, someone who doesn’t really seem to belong anywhere, morally ambiguous, at least somewhat perilous. I could see her as something like a trickster figure. I could see her as an antagonistic force. But as prospective grandmaster to a new Jedi Order? Nah. That makes no sense tonally, based on where we last saw her. Yeah, I know there’s supposed to be about fifteen years between TROS and this film, but the huge time skip isn’t going to be enough to make up for the tonal gap. Not for me. I’ll watch it when it comes out, but I’m not sure how well it’s going to sit with me.

[joels6string]

More Than My Father's Son

Joel Miller x f!OC

Chapter 5 - Search and Rescue

Summary: A chance encounter on patrol leads to intel too troublesome to leave uninvestigated.

Rating: E

Word Count: 5.5k

Content: NSFW, high levels of violence normal to the TLOU world, angst, fluff, miscommunication trope (it’s Joel Miller…), slow burn, Joel’s traumatic childhood, getting together, smut, canon divergence after SLC, fix-it fic

Chapter 4 || Series Masterlist

The green that normally surrounded you had exploded into flames, the orange, yellows, and reds bursting from the trees and raining to the ground was a sight you’d never tire of. As the leaves had begun to change, the knot always present in your chest loosened. Joel and Tommy had repaired your roof, and cooking lessons with Indy were still ongoing but had proved somewhat useful as the jeans you’d been given upon arrival were passed back to the swap shop in favor of the next size up. 

“Are you coming over tonight?” your favorite chef called from ahead of you, the next outpost on your assigned route coming into view, “Ellie was asking, guess she prefers my cooking.”

The smug look on your partner-turned-friend’s face said it all, Ellie’s budding relationship with her half Indy’s skill at cooking and half the fact that she let her sip at a whiskey that still went down rough during dinner. 

“Only if you’re making that soup again,” you replied, your eyes following a leaf as it twirled through the sky.

“You want me to make that soup because Joel likes it,” her tone was teasing and all-knowing, “And I know you send your leftovers with Ellie to give to him.”

“Oh yeah? How so?”

“He brings me the containers back.”

It was true, Joel did like it, and no matter how hard you tried to remember just how she did it, the steps never stuck. You didn’t expect him to be the one giving you away. Although, Ellie was in on the ruse of telling him bringing him home a bowl was always entirely her idea. 

Things had been tepid but pleasant after the summer incident. You’d spent two weeks letting the cut on your hand heal and Maria had taken too much time in forcing you out of your house and into society. You had a shelf of books now, your focus having improved enough over the last four weeks you could sit in the new armchair Tommy had found with you in mind for at least an hour at a time. Ellie supplied you with more than enough movies, opting to spend Fridays at your house now filling you in on her weekly favorites. Maria always made sure you had the day off. 

You sat for drinks at the Tipsy Bison every Thursday, keeping quiet but sitting with the group as they conversed candidly. Indy had come to realize Joel was only someone to fear if you’d earned it, teasing him constantly about seeing another glimmer of that fire from the field again while Tommy teased her bravery for poking the bear. It all felt right and wrong at the same time, the walk back to your house Joel always insisted on accompanying you for the most natural twenty minutes of the evening. 

“We’ll go to the market when we get back,” Indy said as she pulled the heavy steel door shut behind you, “You’re buying.”

“Deal,” you agreed, “I’ll even write the recipe down this time.”

In an abrupt motion that had your heart skipping, she bolted quickly to the open window, her rifle pointing up at the sky as you followed after her, ready to fire at whatever threat she’d spotted but finding nothing out of place or amiss. 

“Oh,” she sighed in relief, lowering her weapon as your eyes darted around, “Sorry. Thought pigs were flying.”

“Fuck you,” you groaned, laughing as you shoved at her shoulder, finding the logbook on the table and pausing at the neat ‘Clear -J’ on the most recently filled-in line, “We all clear?”

“Just check the back.”

The floorboards creaked beneath your boots as you wove through the remnants of office furniture, your hand gliding over rotting wood just lightly enough to keep it from splintering into your skin. The fall air was crisp as you breathed it in, the cold of wintering hinting in the sweet aroma. It would frost soon, the mountains welcoming winter sooner than you would have liked for its extended stay well into the months you’d recognize as spring. 

“Is anyone there?!” you heard a voice calling, the hair on the back of your neck prickling as you pulled your pistol from the tattered holster on your thigh, “Please!”

“Shit…” you hissed under your breath, your back colliding with the wall beside the door, your head peering around just enough to see a man in the clearing ahead. 

“Please! I…I need help! Just…I saw horses!”

“Mother fucker,” Indy sneered as she took cover at the other edge of the frame, “I’m not falling for this. Tell me you’re not falling for this?”

Almost every single one of your razor-sharp instincts told you to hop on the back of your horse and bolt, save a single tickle at the back of your head. There was a tug on a thread that had been loose for months now, the reminder that at one point in the not-so-distant past you’d been a straggler collected by a man willing to take a chance.

“Jesus Christ,” Indy scolded at your silence, “Let’s go.”

“Who’s with you?!” you yelled through the missing glass, Indy groaning as she clicked the safety off on her weapon.

“Just my son!” the man replied, hope seeping into his voice, “Please! I’m unarmed!”

“Well that’s fucking stupid,” Indy muttered, earning her a dirty look, “He’s lying. Millie, he’s lying. Eugene barely made it home alive two weeks ago—“

“Show me the kid!” you demanded, ignoring Indy entirely, your fate now dependent on this momentary lapse in judgment. 

When a boy no older than eight emerged from behind a tree that should have been too narrow to hide him, your spine straightened. You could hear Indy muttering under her breath as the frail child slid behind his father, peering out from around his hip with wide, terrified eyes. With your gun raised, you kicked the door open, Indy following closely behind and demanding for hands to be in sight at all times, the man obliging as he watched with fear and hope swirling in his gaze. 

“Talk,” you instructed, the muzzle of your gun inches from his forehead as he dropped to his knees in surrender.

“We’re…looking for a place called Jackson,” his voice was shaking, eyes averted, “It’s a myth…but we couldn’t stay…had to chance it.”

“Are you bit?”

“No!”

“Spores?”

“Traveled in open air, I swear.”

“Anyone follow you?”

“We snuck past a camp three days ago, but they never saw us.”

“A camp?” Indy cut in, “Where?”

“By the river.”

Another problem added to the growing list. Maria and Tommy would want as much information about the visitors encroaching on the protected territory, risking Jackson’s people and resources wasn't something either of them took lightly. The possibility this man was a scout passed through your mind, flashing like a warning beacon as you felt Indy’s eyes staring. She’d left this decision up to you and was impatiently awaiting your verdict. 

“Is this your dad?” you asked the boy, putting your gun back in its holster and hoping for the best as you kneeled to get on his level, “Tell me the truth.”

“How did you get that scar?” he asked after a nod, timid as a mouse, his big brown eyes so terrified it made your stomach clench. 

“Bad people.”

“Like the people at the river?”

“You tell me.”

“They took mommy.”

Caught in a lie, the man began to stammer in defense as Indy doubled down, her gun still raised as she took a menacing step toward him. He detailed their journey, the narrow escape from the hunters camping on the water banks, and the loss of his wife who had been taken as the child's eyes remained transfixed on the long scar slashed across your nose and cheeks. He promised none had followed, swore on his life, begged for at least the boy, James, to be taken to safety or spared, your own intentions becoming murkier to the survivor who had begun to weep.

“Let’s go,” you snapped, “Give me your pack, the kid can ride with me.”

“So I get to ride with the weirdo?!” Indy chastised as you began to search through the man’s bag, finding food that had been stretched too thin and clothes worn down enough to be sheer. 

“Where are you taking us?” you were asked as Indy helped the small boy up to sit in front of you in the saddle, her grip on the father's coat collar rough as she tugged him towards her own waiting mare.

“It’s your lucky day, Simon,” she taunted, “We’re headed to the mythical land of Jackson.”

The first face you saw as the wooden gates of Jackson closed behind you was unexpected, Joel bursting out of the stables and running with Tommy hot on his heels. 

“Who the hell is this?” he growled, placing himself between you and Simon as if you hadn’t just ridden miles beside him on a horse.

“Simon,” you answered, the way the new gray and black flannel Joel was wearing hugged his shoulders slowing your speech, “and James. They come bearing bad news.”

After scans to the backs of their necks, the Tipsy Bison welcomed them just as it had you almost three months ago. They devoured the food put in front of them unlike you had, Tommy and Joel immediately planning the scout of this supposed encampment for the following morning at dawn. 

“They’re armed,” Simon warned, his face falling at the decision to take on the hunters head-on.

“So are we,” Joel replied, his tone hard and menacing, “You two comin’?”

“Of course!” Indy answered with an air of sarcasm, “Who could refuse?”

With the help of Simon, an ambush was planned, Tommy thanking you for having the judgment to trust the stranger enough to bring him back. It had gone against every one of your most basic instincts, trusting a man in the wild like that, and your eyes drifted over to Joel as you contemplated exactly why that was. You hadn’t trusted him either, and he hadn’t trusted you, but here you sat beside him in a bar enclosed in the safest stronghold the United States had to offer. 

“Is your wife alive?” Joel asked Simon as Tommy began to lead him and his son to the inn for the night.

“Last I knew,” he answered sadly, the reality of why that was settling onto Joel’s face in a furious scowl.

“Can you handle a gun?” 

“Joel…” you scolded, this man clearly in no state to be storming into the trenches, “He’s not up for it. If there are women there, we’re getting them all out regardless.”

Your tone left no room for argument, and Joel’s surrender was swift as you turned to follow Indy to finally begin your evening plans, “Yes ma’am.”

“She’s terrifying,” Simon muttered when you were just out of earshot, a smirk ticking up one corner of Joel’s lips. 

“She is, ain’t she?” he chuckled, smiling fondly as you disappeared further and further into the gray autumn dusk. 

An impatient Ellie was seated on the stoop of Indy’s single-story home, her face lighting up when you rounded the corner before bounding down the street to meet you. Her “you’re fucking late” had you smiling, your arm slinging around her shoulders as you explained yourself honestly, promising to make it up to her Friday when she came by.

“I already picked the movie,” she bragged as you dropped the bag of groceries onto Indy’s counter, “Something with planes.”

“Talk to me, Goose!” you recited, a toothy grin breaking onto Ellie’s face.

“Goodness gracious great balls of fire!” Indy chimed in with a bushel of carrots as a microphone, Ellie promptly inviting her to join the Friday festivities and beaming once again when it was accepted.

The lessons in the kitchen were just as much for you as they were for Ellie, her dinner postponed dinner party having ended before it began when Joel walked into his kitchen so filled with smoke it had left his eyes red for two days after. You’d teased him about it passing him at the stables after patrols, for a man that had tossed smoke bombs he scrounged up from expired explosives and sugar, he certainly had gone soft.

“This is what you’re missing,” Indy informed as she tossed a bushel of green herbs in front of you, “Thyme.”

“Guess it’s time to start learning how to grow herbs in my backyard,” you replied, trying to keep a straight face through the terrible joke that had Ellie practically on the floor and Indy giving you a dead stare that reminded you of someone else.

Gardening was something that had piqued your interest, it always had. You’d tried to maintain a small Pothos in your dorm room, the lack of light killing even the most hearty of plants, and then the world had gone to shit. Ellie had griped about her hatred of farming rotation, but every time you passed Maria in the streets or saw her at the Bison, you were tempted to request a week here or there in the greenhouses. Winter was approaching, but a book on the subject sat waiting by the armchair in the living room, Joel having accompanied you to the swap shop with the last of your venison from his freezer to exchange for the pile of to-be-reads. 

“Don’t chop food with that!” Indy screeched as the familiar click of Ellie’s switchblade broke through the comfortable silence, “You kill things with it!”

“I washed it!” Ellie defended, grumbling to herself as she pocketed it, picking up the provided knife laying beside her on the counter. 

All you could do was laugh at the exchange, your fingers staining green as you plucked at the thyme you’d been thrown. The prep went quickly with three hands, the pot bubbling on the stove as the deck of cards was quickly brought out, a lively round of blackjack ongoing between Ellie and Indy as you dealt. 

Clean-ups and laundry services were wagered, with Ellie bringing home the big win of Indy’s hand in clothes washing for the next week, a full basket waiting to be scrubbed back at her little converted garage. After dinner was shared, Ellie was sent home with two containers, one for her and one for Joel, with Indy sliding you a third with a knowing smirk.

“Before you go,” she blurted out as you followed Ellie out the front door, “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you didn’t listen to me today.”

Quickly you spun, running out onto the porch and almost knocking Ellie straight onto the ground, “Oh,” you sighed in relief, “Thought pigs were flying for a second.”

“After I fed you dinner.”

“See you bright and early.”

“Can’t wait! Nothing like the smell of gunpowder in the morning.”

When Ellie asked where you were going as you walked her home, you skirted around the subject. There was no need to worry her, she’d already been particularly on edge since the incident six weeks ago. You knew she could tell you were lying, and as much as it ate away at you, it was for the best. Her life had become exponentially easier and less burdened once the walls of Jackson had welcomed you, but you knew the years of freedom from worry would be short for her already being 15, she could savor the time she had to be carefree. 

As you rounded the corner from the greenhouses to the back gate closest to her little house, soft notes of music greeted you, the sight of Joel on the porch gently plucking the strings of an acoustic guitar lit by the dull orange glow of his backlight held your gaze as Ellie bid you goodbye. She laughed while your brain caught up to her words, a quick, nervous goodbye mumbled as you quickly glanced at her teasing expression before returning to what would be seared into your memory. Your feet carried you subconsciously toward him, his eyes finding yours in the dark.

“Hey,” he greeted, gruff but soft, tuning the instrument in his hands with subtle turns of the pegs, “Thanks for walkin’ her home.”

“Sure,” you choked out, your mouth dry, “I didn’t know you could play guitar.”

“Yeah. Been playin’ since I was a kid. Haven’t touched one in some twenty years now though.”

“Sounded fine to me.”

“Well, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

With nothing but a gesture, he welcomed you to take the empty chair on the porch, a round table with a bottle of whiskey and a tumbler set between the two seats. He picked up where he’d left off, unbothered by your intrusion, his shoulders relaxed and his features serene as his fingers ran off of muscle memory untainted by decades of disuse. 

“Help yourself,” he offered, his chin ticking towards the amber liquid to his left, and you filled the empty glass halfway at his invitation.

The whiskey was warm as it settled in your stomach, the cool night air nipping at your nose and cheeks as you settled back in the chair, your eyes fluttering closed as the notes of his song traveled with the breeze. This was contentment you hadn’t felt in a very long time, not one you could vibrantly remember anyway. Your thoughts calmed for a moment, each twang of the guitar recentering you in this serenity, your fingers tapping absentmindedly on the glass now sitting ignored in your lap.

“I ain’t carrying you home,” he teased, one of your eyes opening into a slit to peek at him.

“Can I have a blanket at least?” you jested in return, enjoying the toothy grin stretching up on his face.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Another gulp of liquor preceded your meditative state returning, his song continuing longer after finding the perfect harmony. You weren’t sure how much time had passed when silence roused you from tranquility, his fingers pulling the glass from your lazy grip. 

“No, keep going,” you mumbled, it was almost a whine, but a breathy laugh followed the request.

“Yes, ma’am.”

It seemed darker, a little cooler, Ellie’s lights were still on but some of the surrounding windows that had been illuminated before were now black. Joel seemed indifferent to the late hour, decades of long, days-long stretches without sleep still wearing on him, the dark circles beneath his eyes improved but not indiscernible. His hair had grown longer, the length now closer to what you recognized from your time on the road, the curls behind his ears beginning to reappear. 

“You should get home,” he announced, pouring a glass of whiskey and downing it in one shot, “We got an early mornin’.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, already missing the state the night had put you in and hoping it lasted long enough to get you to sleep, “Okay.”

“Want me to walk you?’

“No. I’m okay. Thank you though.”

A restless night followed, the faint hint of a song replaying in the back of your mind enough to at least stop you from screeching into the gray morning light as it filtered into your windows, the cold sweat coating your skin enough to remind you of the horrors that had filled your nightly rest. You dressed quickly, eating breakfast slowly as you watched the clock tick closer to 7 AM. The sun greeted you a little later each morning as autumn approached, the air still with its overnight frost stinging your lungs as you took off towards the stables. Joel’s house was on your way, the hope of crossing paths with him inflating in your chest like a balloon all to be popped as he was nowhere to be found despite your slowed steps. 

The stables were bustling with the team of six heading out, the Miller brothers, Indy, Paulie, and Eugene all prepping their horses during your apparently late arrival. Indy teased you while you scrambled to fill your quiver and grab a few magazines of ammo for your handgun, your breathless thank you to her as she passed the reins to your saddled horse to you putting you in her debt. “Ellie’s laundry is now yours.”

“That is not a fair trade-off! For putting a saddle on!? Are you out of your mind?” you argued to your laughter, “I’ll help you. Best you’ll get.”

Despite the stakes and danger that lay ahead, the ride was surprisingly lighthearted. When the river came into view, however, business took over. Tommy and Joel had established that the hunters had likely moved closer, opting to camp for a few days between shifts. Jackson might have been a myth to some men, like Simon, but to others, its lands were a hunting ground for unexpecting survivors eager to regain some normalcy. Hunters, slavers, and cannibals alike stalked the woods preying on the innocent. Fear that this group was a faction of slavers was high, few groups took women and kept them alive.

“Okay, listen up,” Tommy announced, a plume of smoke visible from the shoreline of the river less than half a mile away, “Indy, Arrow, find the women. That is your job. Take out who you can, but the four of us will clear you a path. They ain’t gonna want to see any of us, it’s gotta be you. Understood?”

Not that you were a soft place to land, but you understood the sentiment.

“Joel and Paulie, take right, Eugene and I will take left,” Tommy finished, Joel’s grumbles of protest were heard throughout the group as you suppressed a smile, “We’re all making it out. No questions asked. Be safe. Be smart. Home for dinner.”

“I am not cooking,” Indy butt in, “Not this time.”

“Well, the Bison it is then,” Eugene conceded, “I could use one of Seth’s sandwiches. Haven’t had one in a bit.”

“Okay, focus,” Joel snapped, “We can worry about dinner when we’re all out. Alive.”

“You’re insufferable when she’s around…” Paulie mumbled what he though was only to himself, Tommy’s arm immediately shooting out to stop his brother from lunging, “Eugene and I can take the right! He’d get me killed keeping his eyes locked on his prize.”

“I swear to God!”

“Shut the hell up! Both of you!” Tommy snapped, “Joel, with me. Jesus Christ.”

“You should look a little less excited,” Indy whispered in your ear, your jaw snapping shut at her warning.

Gravel cracked beneath your boots as you crept towards the muddy bank, not a soul spotted mingling about yet, red flags waving in all of your heads as you continued the approach. Indy was muttering under her breath about how fucked this was, there was no way this wasn’t a trap, and you were inclined to agree.  

“It’s too quiet,” you hissed at Joel as the two of you took cover behind a large boulder, the camp completely visible and notably deserted, “Something is wrong here.”

“Yeah,” he growled, “Shit.”

“Look, camp’s empty,” Paulie spoke too loudly, everyone’s wide eyes shooting to him filled with confusion and rage, “maybe they left something behind.”

“Push forward,” Tommy commanded, you and Joel both sighing in disagreement, “We gotta at least look around.”

With weapons drawn, you crept forward, noting that even though this camp was haphazardly put together, it was expansive. Someone had no intention of leaving here anytime soon, the question was where that someone might be. The silence was deafening, your leg throbbing as memories clawed at your fragile psyche that had just begun to shoddily repair. It had been silent that day too, until gunfire echoed through the neighborhood and the pain became too much to resist. 

“Hey,” a deep southern voice rumbled from beside you, “I got you.”

“He asked me to bring her back,” you choked, recalling the ride back to Jackson with Simon and James in tow, “either way.”

“And we will.”

If only the confidence in his voice was reassuring. 

Muffled voices were heard, halting all of you in your tracks, cover being taken as Joel went ahead alone, your heart hammering as your eyes stayed locked on him, your finger twitching against the trigger of your gun as every muscle tensed waiting for the need to strike. When Joel halted and crouched behind a pile of firewood, his arm shot up, four fingers pointing up towards the sky. Six on four was no concern, in fact, it was probably almost too easy.

“Okay,” Tommy began, the plan now being set into full motion, “Ladies, you know your job, we’ll do the rest. Search every tent, they gotta be in one of ‘em.”

“There has to be more than four,” Indy warned, pulling you back down to the ground as you rose, still staring at the man ten yards ahead of you.

“Maybe. Maybe not. They’re probably out huntin’ and this our time for an easy strike. We pick those four off and take the rest out at the wall when they come lookin’. Easy.”

The logic made sense. It was now or never, with or without Indy at your side. As she went to press her argument with Tommy, you took advantage of her distraction, taking off uncaring of who followed. You and Joel had taken out more than four hunters in your day, you could do it again. The sound of your boots had him rising to his feet, his finger pointing to a larger tent off in the distance, the one the men were closest to. There was no doubt in your mind he was right.

With a nod, you were off, Indy hot on your heels as the men engaged the four sitting around a fire, somehow managing to finish the job without a shot going off in an attempt to not alert anyone who may still be lurking nearby. The tent you and Joel had assumed housed who you were looking for turned out to be filled with supplies, ones you hoped you had the time to search through later, leaving you and Indy to search the remaining half a dozen tents.

“Nothin’?” Tommy asked as your head emerged from the third with a downtrodden expression, “Shit.”

“Maybe they’re deeper in the woods,” you suggested as Indy came back from searching the final three with nothing, “It would make sense. Isolate them, make them feel stranded, helpless.”

“Okay. Fan out, whistle if you need. No more than ten minutes and we regroup. I’m serious. I don’t like this.”

Stress and tensions were high as you and Indy walked deeper into the woods, her warnings it was time to turn back went unheeded; they had to be here, they had to be somewhere. A whistle from your right set your feet into a sprint, Paulie and Eugene standing outside a dilapidated shed sealed with too shiny a padlock. A hand stopped your gun as you raised it, Joel coming to stand beside you with a look of warning in his eyes.

“Be smart,” he cautioned in a low voice, knowing how you got in high stake situations, “I’ll get it.”

The butt of his shotgun took out the lock in three blows, the edge of the door shattering at the impact. You went in first, your blood running ice cold in your veins at the sight before you.

“Oh my God…” you muttered, Indy’s equally shocked breath echoing beside you, “Joel…”

“Christ,” he exhaled, his hand pulling you slightly behind him as he surveyed the group of eight all staring at you with wide, terrified eyes, “We’re here to help…and we don’t have much time.”

Indy took over, the group sighing in relief when everyone was on their feet. At least they could walk. The walk back to the horses was quick and guarded, the six of you forming a perimeter around the women all huddled together, one visibly pregnant but you doubt she was alone in that. They were understandably skeptical, but somewhat hopeful it seemed, all of them looking to you like a beacon of hope, of reason.

“Get them on the horses. Indy, Arrow, can you share one?” Tommy strategized, with fourteen people and six horses, this had turned into a predicament, “Paulie, Eugene, get on the last one. Joel and I will walk.”

“I want to check that tent,” you reminded them, Indy staying back to help get everyone loaded up to go while you, Joel, and Tommy advanced, Paulie and Eugene staying planted in the middle ground.

There was some food that would come in handy, various boxes of ammo you stuffed into packs uncaring of what it was, you’d find a use for it, and one little canvas sack of what felt like dry beans that had your lips lifting into a smile when you brought it to your nose.

“Hey Tex!” you called out, tossing Joel the bag as soon as his attention was on you, his brow furrowing as he peaked inside, the contents setting his face aglow.

“Well I’ll be damned,” he sighed, grinning so wide it sparkled into his hazel eyes.

“Hey,” Paulie snapped, “Why’s he get that?”

“Cause Deacon has a favorite,” Eugene answered with a wink in your direction.

“Deacon has a debt actually,” you corrected, movement catching in your peripheral. 

The whistle of your arrow through the air caught everyone’s attention, the cry of a man taking a bolt to the chest cavity setting off a row of dominoes on a trail to disaster. As more men emerged from the trees, panic set in. Five turned to seven and then seven to twelve… Tommy was screaming at Indy to take off, don’t even slow down until the walls of Jackson were well in sight while Joel bellowed at you from behind a stack of firewood to get to the god damn horse, but as a chain of automatic gunfire cracked through the woods the world fell away. 

Standing like a target in the middle of a field, the rattling of the assault rifle had you frozen in place. The echoes of FEDRA soldiers, the rumbling of a tank, the smell of smoke, gunpowder, and decay, the screams of the QZ citizens caught in a war zone…

“Tommy!” You didn’t know a Tommy. Who was Tommy? “Cover me!”

Cover him. You could cover. You knew how to cover. Your pistol was heavy on your thigh and cold in your fingers as you pulled it from its holster, firing off in front of you despite having no target in sight. 

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ!” Maybe there was a target.

Whipping around wildly in search of him, your ears began to ring as a flash bang went off, shrouding your surroundings in a smoky haze. It all came flooding back as the piercing shrill grew louder, the smoke growing thicker as you began to choke, and you weren’t sure if the tears streaming down your face were a product of the burn or the memories that now went hurtling to the forefront of your mind and trapped you in your nightmares here in the light of day. 

An arm wrapping around your middle pushed what little air you’d been able to bring into your lungs, your feet forced to shuffle as it pulled you backward, your back hitting something jagged and splintering as you were tossed to the ground and caged in. You couldn’t hear a thing, your eyes locked on the dirt as your body focused on its need for air. Someone was in front of you, you could feel the heat radiating off of them, something was grazing against your cheek, a jacket maybe, or the edge of a knife. You couldn’t be sure. Bullet shells rained down from above you, one brass cylinder falling into your lap, smoke still billowing from the searing metal, at least whoever it was wasn’t shooting at you.

“Joel, get her out of here!”

That name... You knew that name.

“Joel?” It was a plea, an anchor, a place to ground yourself. 

His canvas coat was rough in your fingers as you realized it was gripped between your knuckles, the comforting sight of a red and black flannel coming into view as you breathed in the familiar scent of leather and wood. Joel. 

“Move,” it was a command, his voice hard with what could be anger or focus, you couldn’t be sure.

A large palm swallowed your upper arm whole as you were lifted to your feet and forced to take off into a sprint you weren’t prepared for. His grip kept you upright every time you tripped, the whinny of a horse startling you as you were lifted and tossed into a saddle.

“You ride and you don’t look back, you understand?” he instructed, shooting his eyes over his shoulder, “Do you understand?”

With a snarl at your lack of response, he slapped the horse’s back end, your hands forced to grip the horn of the saddle for dear life as the horse took off in a gallop.

“Joel!” you yelled as you steadied yourself enough to look back and see him disappear into the trees and gunshots, “JOEL!”

Chapter 6

Pretty art of them from this chapter that makes me swoon (why is tumblr eating the quality of images worse than usual today. annoying.)

[ladytauria]

okay to balance it out

fluff 27) “why the hell is there glitter everywhere?”

picturing JayTim maybe Tim tried to be sexy and spice/romantic and tried to decorate himself or the bedroom? and messed up

i love this sm <3

it took me a couple days to get the writing juices flowing, but once they did i managed to get this out in an afternoon xD

ofc, my internet went out right as i was finishing it up. luckily i wrote it on mobile. signal may not be the best here but i can still get it posted :D

read it on AO3

“Why the hell is there glitter everywhere?”

Shit. Tim was hoping to have it all cleaned up by now.

“Long story, don’t ask,” Tim calls, smoothing a comforter over the freshly made bed. He thinks he’s gotten most of it out of the bedroom—that and the en suite were the worst areas, but the living room took a pretty big hit as well.

“Okay, but you know I gotta ask, baby bird,” Jason says, appearing in their doorway. He’s lost his boots and gloves, but he’s still wearing his jacket and his hair is still mussed from his helmet.

Tim pouts at him, but it’s hard to feign irritation when there’s a smile tugging at Jason’s lips; eyes crinkling in the corners. He’s unfairly cute.

“Don’t give me that,” Jason says with a laugh, crossing the room to pull Tim against his chest. “Bed looks nice. Hurricane sparkles hit here too, huh?”

Tim can hardly help melting against him. He’s always so unfairly warm. (Jason says the same thing about him. ‘Then again, princess, if you’d eat more, maybe you’d have something to hold it in—‘) “I don’t want to talk about it. I’m still traumatized.”

Jason snickers. “Traumatized, huh?”

“Mhm.” Tim twists in his arms, pressing their chests together and winding his arms around Jason’s neck. He plays with the strands there. “Be a good boyfriend and comfort me.”

That gets him another laugh—each one makes a little more warmth pool in Tim’s chest. Jason kisses him softly, sweetly; turning that pool into an ocean. Tim sighs into it, a little weak in the knees despite how brief it ends up being. Jason just has that effect on him.

He brushes their noses together. “C’mon, pretty bird,” Jason murmurs. “I’m gonna die of curiosity.”

Tim heaves a sigh far more put-upon than he actually feels, and kisses the corner of his mouth. “Well, we can’t have that. I just got used to you.”

Jason’s brows raise; a grin on his face. “Only just? It’s been over a year, babe.”

Tim shrugs. “I’m very resistant to change,” he says. “But you wanted to know about the glitter.”

“Please.”

“Alright. It’s Steph’s fault.”

Jason snorts.

“No, really!” Tim says, doing his best not to grin himself. “You remember when she and I went clubbing, right?”

“Three nights ago, yeah.”

“Right. Well. At one of them, there was a lot of body glitter. Like—a lot. And—I dunno. It was kinda hot? Which was unfair. I mean, I don’t look that good when I wear it. Which I told Steph, and she said she doubted you’d agree with that. And I kept thinking about it. I mean. It sounded kind of fun, to dress up like that. Different, definitely.

“Except, uh. Things did not go as planned, and I made a big mess instead. Oops?”

Jason doesn’t laugh like Tim thought he would. Instead his head tilts, almost thoughtfully. “You know,” he says. “I’ve got pretty steady hands.”

Tim takes a second to process. “I— Are you offering to apply it for me?” His mouth is suddenly dry, imagining himself under those strong, talented, and yes, steady, hands as they paint patterns of glitter on his skin.

Jason’s hands curl around his hips, thumbs stroking the sharp points of them. “We’re going to be finding glitter for months anyway,” he says, voice dropping, the deep baritone rumbling through his bones. “Might as well get some fun out of it.”

Tim shivers. “Have I ever told you you’re brilliant?” he asks, tightening his grip on Jason’s shoulders and feeling him tense in preparation. He jumps; legs locking around his waist while Jason’s hands grip his ass.

“Mm—not recently.”

“I’ll make it up to you,” Tim promises, and kisses the place where his jaw meets his ear, relishing the soft noise that gets him. “Glitter’s in the bathroom.”

He’d buy Steph a thank-you card later. A very sparkly one.

[astra-galaxie]

🧸👽💝💔🎭🖕😭 for fili savage please, i'll remember to send reese's as a thank you(just keep it away from fili, trust me, we don't want our favorite giant going down)

I know I’ve said this before (at least I think I have), but I always find it funny how a last-minute OC becomes one of my most beloved ones! And I love Fili, too, so I’ll always expect him to be a request when I do one of these prompts!😊

(Don’t worry, Fili will be safe from the chocolate since those Reese’s will go straight into my stomach!😉)

🧸 A headcanon about their childhood

As a child, Fili didn’t have many friends, at least not many friends who weren't also his cousins. Due to being larger than the other kids in his classes, his obsession with plants, and being hospitalized on and off, no one tried being his friend. He did have one really good friend, a best friend, as he loved calling them. Sadly, they didn’t live in Ireland, but the two met when Fili’s friend was visiting Ireland with their family, and they became pen pals. Fili always looked forward to getting their letters and replying to them. The two are still friends to this day, and after Fili moved to the US, they were able to meet again.

👽 A headcanon about a weird quirk of there

He loves singing Irish folk songs. Sometimes, it's just humming, but if he really gets into it, he’ll start singing softly. Fili usually does it when he gets lost in his work, but also to fill the silence around him. Occasionally, he’ll forget the full lyrics, so he’ll just repeat the same line over and over. But it makes him happy so others don’t mind listening to repeats.

💝 A headcanon about their love language

Fili’s love language is acts of affection. He loves doing little things that make people happy and vice versa, even if it's simply cleaning the dish. However, his other way of showing love is through gift-giving, specifically flowers. He loves growing people’s favourite flower(s) and watching people’s happiness when they receive them. He always gives his Starlight new flowers for the special vase in their kitchen, and it's never without a beautiful bouquet.

💔 An angsty headcanon

Fili never thought he would find love. One of his biggest dreams was to find someone to spend the rest of his life with and to start a family with them. And while he did have some good relationships during his early twenties, none ever lasted. Something always brought the relationships to an end, and Fili began to believe he was destined to be alone… But then he met his Starlight, and it was as if the (pun intended) stars had finally aligned, and fate decided it was time for him to meet his soulmate. Eventually, his family would grow, and Fili couldn't be happier. He wishes he could tell his past self not to worry and that everything would work out when the time was right.

🎭 A headcanon about what they lie about

Fili is a very honest man and doesn’t lie much (except about being a Mage, but that’s for obvious reasons). However, one secret he will NEVER admit is that he lied to his parents in high school to attend a party. While they were out of town for the weekend, Fili lied and said he stayed home and studied for exams when they asked him what he did while they were gone. Fili vowed never to tell them that he went to the party since they didn’t like the classmate who hosted it, and besides, he didn’t have fun and left early anyway. Hopefully, they never find out the truth…

🖕 A headcanon relating to anger

While very much a “gentle giant,” Fili can get angry when the situation warrants it or if someone pushes him to anger. His anger is often represented as cold and intimidating as he tries not to yell or get violent. He knows his size is already threatening to others, and even if he’s angry, he doesn’t want to traumatize anyone. But that doesn't mean he won't use it to his advantage when he wants to. If you anger him enough and try to threaten him, Fili WILL put you in your place and make sure you know never to mess with him, his family, or his friends again.

(And he doesn't even need to use magic to do that, but it does help get his point across easier!)

😭 A headcanon about the worst thing that happened to them.

When he was captured by SOMBRA and put under the control of the inhibitor chip, Fili was almost always aware of what was happening around him and what his body was being forced to do. Watching SOMBRA experiment on him, force him to fight their recruits, and being in constant pain caused Fili to start dissociating as a way to try and cope with everything. Even after being rescued, he still dissociates due to his trauma, but thankfully, not as often or for as long.

And that’s a wrap on this batch of Fili headcanons! I know many of my readers are excited for his return in The Conspiracy, so hopefully, this will help with the waiting!

[ryuichirou]

Replies

More replies! :)

hipsterteller asked:

I saw the artwork of Jade and Rook, and the only thing I could say is-

"Oh please tell me they didn't kill someone"

+

Anonymous asked:

Yep, both weirdos doing weird stuff. Also, context on their murder?

I really love how the first ask is in denial, hoping for the best, and the second one is “alright who did they kill this time” LOL

Unfortunately though, there is no context, I’m just sure this is something both of them do, so it’s only a matter of time until they stumble upon each other. It would definitely be funny…

I keep joking about Jade just feeding randos with his mushrooms, even though it’s not really how mushrooms work, but I’ll keep telling this joke until the day I die and get buried in the forest myself lol

Anonymous asked:

MEGARA!

YES!!!!! <3 <3 <3

Your childhood crushes really cement one’s type… we rewatched Hercules about a year ago, and it really made me remember just how much I loved this girl.

Anonymous asked:

seeing idia in a consensual relationship/situation with azul is like a jumpscare on this page

Thank you Anon!! I’m genuinely happy that you’re so used to seeing messed-up stuff that anything wholesome seems surprising lol We really do have our preferences…

But if that makes it easier, with these two it’s almost always just a fleeting moment before they start arguing again over something super unimportant or messing up each other’s lives. There is no way these could actually coexist without it lol

Anonymous asked:

Ironically enough if Azul was Regina I could see Vil being a decent Janis

He doesn't share a lot of the same fashion traits as her but he is honest and can hold a grudge for a long time

(this is related to one reply from this post)

Wow, Vil as Janis is something I never considered. This type of pettiness is closer to Vil’s, that’s true lol

Jamil would also maybe work as Janis.

But now all I can think about is Vil in a grungy-punky look… a complete delusion, but an aesthetically pleasing one.

Anonymous asked:

This sounds a bit too mean (to Malleus), but what reactions do you think he may have if Lilia's fucking him and accidentally moans his mother's name instead 👀

Since we can’t say anything about ch7 yet (still haven’t watched it), so there might be any specific aspect that I’m missing, but in general I’m pretty sure Malleus is going to be super damn pissed if Lilia moaned any name that isn’t his while they have sex lol He might even get angry and destroy everything and only then go “wait what?” realising what the name was.

blackbutlerfandomnerddomain asked:

I might bombard the inbox with thoughts so sorry in advance! I lowkey see Sebek and Silver starting as a thing after realizing Malleus and Lilia were a thing (I find the idea Silver having the Windows reloading sound in his mind as he’s like “Ooooooooh” when realizing his two dads are lovers really funny), and I’m currently writing a fic based of Ch.7 where Sebek kissed Silver finally during the fight, making them official finally

No worries, as long as you don’t mind waiting. You know how it is with me and replies lol, but I’m slowly but surely replying to everything.

Bonding over the trauma of realisation that Malleus and Lilia are a thing lol well jokes aside, it’s probably not as traumatic for Silver, but the realisation could still be the “oh” moment for sure. Let Malleus and Lilia be an example for the younglings lol

Good luck with your fic!^^

Anonymous asked:

Hear me out: Fem Idia with the song Worst Taste In Girls by Charley

Alright now that I’ve finally listened to the song!

She really does have the worst taste in girls… Although, she has even less autonomy in her love life than the heroine of the song unfortunately lol But Idia is prone to thinking that whenever things go kinda well, it’s never going to last long.

[siffrin-enthusiast]

angry system and radqueer/“transdisabled” vent here, interactions okay except for radqueers. make your own post and keep it far away from real disabled people. tws for mentions of death, trauma, and hospitals.

this is not syscourse. this is my experience as a traumagenic system. this is not a commentary on anyone else except for radqueers.

i truly despise how sometimes DID is seen as a “quirky” or “fun” disorder where you get your favorite characters as imaginary friends. do you know why i split one of my silly fictional characters? for reasons i won’t disclose because i know basic internet safety, i almost died as a child. i came very, very close to dying. i was in the hospital for months and all i had to keep me from thinking that god, i nearly died was a fictional character. as much as i post about loving my system (which i really do! they saved me!) it is undoubtedly the worst thing that has ever happened to us. i would never wish this upon anyone. if i could be a singlet, if i could be whole, i would. everyone in this brain would make the same decision.

i make light of it because for the i’m going to be stuck here with living, breathing reminders of my worst traumas and if i don’t joke about it, i’m going to lose it. i only remember my early life through flashbacks. most days are a blur, weeks and months slipping by in a few blinks. i’m barely remembering to go to my college classes, and when i manage to get there (on time, too!), i don’t remember the lectures anyway. i might have to drop out until my therapist and i can figure out something to stop my body from thinking i’m going to be hurt again every time i walk into a classroom. i’m about to lose it.

i’m too tired for “syscourse”. i really am. but while we’re here, radqueer “build a headmate!!” things? you’re fucking sick. do you know that? you’re sick in the head. log off and go to a real mental health professional. “transDID” is sick. it wasn’t enough to fake it? you had to make a mockery of us, too? are you happy, loudly proclaiming that you’re roleplaying having a horrible mental illness? aren’t you ashamed? (i know they’re not. that would require them to care about anyone besides themselves.) there’s a reason none of the “transdisabled” people go to therapy, and it’s because they know they’d be rightfully diagnosed with factitious disorder. i sincerely hope you all find therapists who can provide you with what you actually need, because i promise it’s not roleplaying mental disorders on tumblr. in the meantime, i’m blocking and moving on. i’ve cried enough tears over my disorder and i know i’ll cry more of them. i’m not letting you add to my suffering.

DID/OSDD isn’t a joke or a game. it’s the result of repeated, continuous childhood trauma that the brain has no choice but to break itself in pieces to hide the trauma from itself. it ruined my life. it still ruins my life. it’s taken years in therapy to get to the point of knowing why i’m so dysfunctional, and it’ll take many years more to start becoming more functional. i make light of it here because this is my escape, for a moment, where i can be a normal, happy person instead of a traumatized shell of an adult who is really still the scared kid that wasn’t supposed to make it this long. i don’t have “friends” in my head. i have fragments of my psyche clinging to whatever takes me away from the flashbacks. do you understand?

[jawritter]

Carry On

Chapter 14

Summary: It was just a simple hunt, found on a pie festival. It was supposed to be easy. Something they’d all done one hundred and one times a million. No one could have told Y/N, Dean, and Sam that nothing from that point on would ever be the same again.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader x Sam Winchester

Word Count: 2254

Warnings: It’s getting a little tense around the bunker...

Due to the graphic nature of this fic, and the fact that it will eventually contain Smut. This fic is an 18 + only fic! If you’re under 18 DO NOT read this fic!

A/N: This fic is beta’d by @kazsrm67​​​​ Thanks so much love! Please do not copy my work! Feedback is golden! I hope you all enjoy this ride with me!

My Mastlist        Series Masterlist

“Sam, have you seen your brother?” Y/N questioned as she stepped down into the library, finding Sam surrounded by a pile of books almost as tall as he was. 

“Yeah, he said that he was going to go take a shower, he’d been in the weight room all morning working on that leg thing with me. He wanted me to let you sleep in, said you were up late with him last night.”

“Yeah, nightmare,” Y/N admitted, “They seem to get better, and then all the sudden, they get worse.”

“I was actually doing some reading on Post Traumatic Stress this morning, and honestly, I think he’s got a lot of PTSD that he doesn’t want to admit, he has that he’s dealing with,” Sam admitted with a heavy sigh. “We both know Dean by this point, he’s gonna try to white wash it until it’s covered up or buried so deep that no one notices it.”

“Yeah,” Y/N agreed, leaning forward on the table and hiding her head in her arms. “I’m pretty sure he had a panic attack in the kitchen a few weeks ago, and that’s when the nightmares started. I was gonna talk to you about it, but he keeps me busy, and I didn’t want to talk about it in front of you, because you know how he gets, I don’t have to tell you.”

“I mean, the man almost died, I expected it a little,” Sam voiced as he closed the book in front of him, and sat back in his chair. “But he’s up, he’s moving around, he’s functioning better than either of us thought he’d ever be functioning the night we got to the hospital with him. I’ve been through a lot with Dean, parent deaths, friend’s deaths, returning from hell… I honestly could go on, but I’ll spare you the logistics of it. What I’m trying to say here, is that if I know one thing about my brother, is that pushing him to open up will get you absolutely nowhere. Some things, Dean just has to work out for himself.”

Irritation bubbled in her chest, and Y/N desperately wanted to get up and slap him. Sure, nothing had been as traumatic as going to hell, and nothing had been traumatic as losing your parent’s several times. She was sure that Dean had gone through horrors that she knew not of, and couldn’t handle if she did. He was strong. Most people would be a fucking blubbering mess in the corner if they even went through a minute fragment of some of the things that Dean had been through before he even turned 35 years old. Still, pushing him to a corner and saying he’d work it out himself, just leave him alone, felt wrong. 

“And if he can’t pull through it, and it gets worse?” Y/N pressed, but Sam just kept scrolling through his phone virtually ignoring her. “I know I wasn't with you guys a whole lot until this point, but I never remember anyone talking about Dean having flashbacks before?”

“He did,” Sam interjected, “When he went to hell, purgatory, he had flashbacks and nightmares. He got over it. The main thing is he’s not a vegetable somewhere, and he seems to be getting better at getting around and taking care of himself.”

Y/N blinked at Sam, utterly dumbfounded at the pure, unconcerned, just didn’t give a fuck attitude that Sam had, and she was wondering if a shapeshifter had taken the form of Sam, and was just dicking off here to fuck with her before he tried to kill them.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Sam said, “It’s not that I don’t give a damn, it’s that I’ve been through this enough with Dean before to know that he’s not going to let me in unless he WANTS to let me in. So it’s best to just give him his space.”

Miraculously, Y/N suppressed the eye roll, but she wasn’t sure how she did it honestly. It was an impressive one. 

“So that’s your plan is it, just sit here, hiding behind books and fuck ever else and wait for Dean to cave?” 

“Yeah,” Sam stated, with a nod of his head, “Because if you try to get yourself in there before he’s ready for you too, it’s just gonna blow up in your face. Now, if you will excuse me, I have to go and meet Eileen in the garage, we’re getting ready for a road trip.”

“A road trip?” Y/N questioned, spinning around in her chair to face Sam, who had already stood from the table and was headed towards the hallway, “You’re going on a road trip?”

“Yeah,” Sam breathily answered her. “Eileen and I haven’t had any real time together, stress free time anyway, since Dean got hurt, and we want to take a little road trip, maybe do some hunting and just spend some time together.”

Y/N fought the sudden urge to point out the fact that he’d done very little since Dean had been hurt but whatever the fuck he wanted to do, while she stayed at the hospital, bathed, fed, and took care of his brother while he and Eileen did whatever they wanted to do, but Dean’s slow approach down the hallway stopped her, and Sam was goddamn lucky it did; because today, she’d had just about enough of his bratty ass attitude. Not that she regretted anything she had done for Dean, but fuck if he was going to stand there and act like he’d done so much, sacrificed so much, when he hadn’t done a damn thing. 

“You’re leaving?” Dean questioned, brow furrowed and holding onto the wall to brace himself in front of his baby brother, hair still wet and in his most comfortable clothing. He looked so much better than he had in months, he just needed to work on gaining some weight and his strength back…

“Yeah, Eileen and I are gonna take off and spend some time together,” Sam told him, and Dean’s gaze drifted towards Y/N, she could tell that he had questions, and more than one of them. 

“You know, if you’re going hunting you can just say so Sam,” Dean said after a moment, “It’s fine, I’m not gonna have a fucking chick-flic moment about it or something.”

“Well, I mean, we might pick up a hunt or two along the way, but we just mainly want to get away for a while,” Sam deflected with a shrug. 

Dean’s jaw tightened, and his nostrils flared slightly, but he said nothing, just nodded. 

“How long are you gonna be gone?” Dean questioned, and Sam just shrugged. 

“I don’t know, a week, two, maybe a little longer, it really just depends on how we’re feeling. We haven’t really got to spend any time alone together since your accident, and I think it’s time we get away for a while. We’ll come back after we’ve had a little time off.”

Y/N sat and watched Dean in silence as he nodded again, and looked down at his feet, and she swore she could physically see his blood pressure rising. 

“Don’t bother,” Dean said after a moment, and Sam took a step back, looking at Dean like he was crossed between confused and pissed, but Dean didn’t seem to care much about Sam’s disdain. “Y/N’s got me,” he continued, “you two don’t have to stay here if it’s that much of an inconvenience to you.”

“Dean, that’s not what I said–”

“No, but it’s what you’ve implied when honestly, Y/N’s given up a fuck ton more than you or Eileen through out this whole ordeal. She’s the one that uprooted her whole life to come and stay with me, take care of me, fucking wipe my goddamn ass when I couldn’t do it for myself, while you and Eileen ‘apartment hunted’, or whatever else you called yourself doing. But sure, you’re tired of being here, and you’re not really doing all that much anyway, I'm not keeping you here, so don’t bother.”

Y/N stood from her seat at the table at that point, she wasn’t going to get into it, but judging by the look on Sam’s face, this had the potential to get ugly, and if Sam was dumb enough to swing at Dean, Chuck, Jack, who the fuck ever wasn’t going to be able to pull her off of him. 

“You know Dean, you’re the one that was telling me to go for it with Eileen. The one telling me that he wanted me to have a normal life, but apparently that’s only when it’s convenient to you,” Sam fired back, and Dean chuckled humorlessly. 

“Believe what you want Sam, that’s not what this is about. But just like it’s always been with you and just like it was with Dad, there’s no talking to you, and I’m too weak to care about arguing. I don’t need you here, you don’t want to be here, don’t bother coming back. Do like you always do when things get a little hard around here for me. Run. It’s what you do best.”

Sam made a step forward towards Dean, and Y/N cleared her throat loudly, catching Sam’s attention and making him take a step back. The look on her face must have screamed ‘do it, and I’ll kick your ass,’ cause he backed down quickly.

“Fine,” Sam said, “believe what you want Dean.”

Without another word, Sam turned and made his way towards the garage to help Eileen load the car, and Dean watched him go, shaking his head as he did.

Y/N stood there feeling helpless, and honestly, she wanted to track Sam down to the garage, and give him a well-deserved slap in the face, but she knew that wouldn’t help Dean one way or another. 

When the garage door slammed shut behind him, and Sam was out of sight, Dean turned to face Y/N, who was still standing in her spot, holding onto the table top to keep herself from tracking down the younger Winchester, and beating whatever temper tantrum he was having out of him. Dean needed a support system, not just her, he needed to know that his brother was there for him when he was at his lowest, he did not need this. 

“You’re not gonna bolt on me too are ya?” he questioned, and for a moment, she was sure he was about to cry. 

She said nothing, she just slowly let go of the table, and walked over to him to wrap her arms around, careful of his back, and he melted on the spot into her. 

“I’ve told you before, and I’ll keep telling you, a pack of hellhounds couldn’t drag me away from here.”

Dean let go of her, and nodded as he slowly made his way to the nearest table and set down. She did the same, staying as close to him as possible because she really didn’t know where he was mentally at the moment, but she didn’t want to leave him alone. She was already inwardly praying that this didn’t set him back any. 

“Sam’s been like this his whole life,” Dean said after a while. “He couldn’t wait to run to Stanford and get away from dad. Every time something bad happened to me, he’d run. Except when I went to hell, and that’s because he felt guilty because I sold my soul to keep him alive. Other than that, he’s run over a fucking dog, no offense Miracle, and ended up with a girl, and I’m stuck in fucking Purgatory for a year, and he never even looked for me. Fuck, if you hadn’t called the ambulance, I’d probably be dead right fucking now!”

“Well, you did ask him to stay for that last bit, but he still could have at least called 911,” Y/N admitted, pinching the bridge of her nose. “He’ll come around Dean, I think that’s just his way of processing things.”

Dean didn’t answer, he just started to mess with the tie on his sweats with trembling fingers. 

“Hey,” she said, scooting closer to him, and taking his hands in hers, “I got you handsome, you’re not alone, and you never will be again.”

“I know,” Dean admitted, “and honestly, Sam and I have been stuck together the majority of our lives, maybe it’s time we go our separate ways for a while, live life a little bit.”

Y/N said nothing, she chose to keep her opinions to herself, because after that little stunt Sam pulled this morning, she couldn’t help but think maybe some time apart might do both Sam and Dean some good. 

“Besides,” Dean continued, looking up at her and giving her a tired smile. “I wouldn’t mind having some time with just the two of us. It’s high time I had some normalcy for once.”

‘Normalcy?’ Honestly, Y/N wasn’t even sure what that was, she understood what it was supposed to be, but she’d never had any herself, and she’d be a lair if the prospect wasn’t an enticing one. You know, white picket fence and all. Dean in the front yard, working on his car or maybe throwing a ball with a littler version of himself… what girl wouldn’t want that? The question remained, could they actually do it? Could they really pull that off?

Forever:

@my-proof-is-you​

@samanddeaninatrenchcoat​

@wittysunflower

@demongirl1996​  

@as-lost-as-sams-shoe​

@jensenslady79​

@spnwoman​

@stoneyggirl2​

@unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men​​

@stixnstripesworld​

@fullwattpadmusictree​​

@nancymcl​​

@christycreature​​

@whiskey-infused-dreams​​

@supernatural79impala​​

@deandreamernp​​

@forgetthisbull​​

@miraclesoflove​​

@slamminmine​​

@deanwanddamons​​

@rvgrsbrns​​

@chevyharvelle​​

@i-love-superhero-movies​​

@lyss-dw79​​

@magssteenkamp​​

@lemondropirwin​​

@squirrelnotsam​​

@hobby27​​

@spnbaby-67​​  

@mrsjenniferwinchester​​

@defenderrosetyler​​

@thecreatiivecorner​​  

@vicmc624​​

@busy-bee-angel-misska​​

@justanotherwinchester​​

@brilovesdeanwinchester​​

@idksupernatural​​

@lyarr24​​

@emoryhemsworth​​

@dean-winchesters-gardian-angel​​

@flamencodiva​​

@itmejado​​

@thoughts-and-funnies​​

@teresa-67​​

@hearteyes-j2​​

@peaches007​​

@bobbie3939​​

@vulgar-library​​

@writercole​​

@fairlyspnfanfic​​

@sexyvixen7​​

@spngi​​

@b3autyfuldisast3r​​

@donnaintx​​

@maliburenee​​

@the-family-business67​​

@agirlwithdemonblood​​

@captainsoldiergirl​​

@twinkleinadiamondsky​​

Jensen and Dean’s Babes

@deans-baby-momma​​  

@impalaslytherin​​

@perpetualabsurdity​​

@msmarvelouswinchester​​

@akshi8278​​

@love-jackles​​

@irmcpar​​

@pink-sparkly-witch​​

@deans-spinster-witchs-favorites​​

@herstarburststories​​

@mimaria420​​

@deanwinchesterswitch​​

@charred-angelwings​​

@pascal-rascal424​​

@myloversgone​​

@fortheloveof-jackles​​

@eevvvaa​​

@bts-spnlvr12​​

@jxackles

@lassie-bird​​

@samsgirl93​​

@shawnie74​​  

@kaz11283​​

@mlovesstories​​

@ladysparks78

[letters-adressed-to-the-fire]

actually, taylor is just as delusional as all of us (or "over-analyzing chloe et all: the sequel")

First part analyzing the first verse and the chorus is already posted if you want to check it out ;) I'll be waiting and ready to dive deeper into the lyrics and uncover the hidden meanings and emotions behind the song (or how i like to call it: making everything about me and my own personal traumatizing experiences, hope you can relate!!!)

“You said some things that I can't unabsorb You turned me into an idea of sorts You needed me, but you needed drugs more And I couldn't watch it happen”

In the second verse, she’ll be reflecting on why they broke up. The line “couldn’t watch it happen” emphasizes that she didn’t leave because she wanted to, but because she couldn’t endure it anymore. This shows the painful reasons for their separation and her struggle to move on.

“I changed into goddesses, villains, and fools Changed plans and lovers and outfits and rules All to outrun my desertion of you”

First of all, no, she isn’t a normal person who can just say “yeah, I’ll try everything to get over you”. No, Taylor needed to emotionally destroy us.

Second of all, yes, despite logical reasons for the breakup, the fact she had to leave makes her wonder what would’ve happened if she stayed, even if she knew she couldn’t. It’s a contradiction that, between delusions, makes sense (I know most of us can relate).

“Down that passage in time back to the moment I crashed into you, like so many wrecks do”

She wonders if things could have been different if she knew then what she knows now. Alternatively, the “crashed into you” part could symbolize their first meeting and the idea of avoiding the entire relationship.

That last thought is reinforced by the bridge, where she’s basically saying that maybe, if she just over-analyzed every single moment she shared with him, she may find the exact moment where things went wrong, and she wonders, again, if it could’ve been different if she knew then what she knows now.

I want to add that the first few times I listened to this song, I interpreted the “crashed into you” part as a metaphor for their first meeting. I thought these lyrics suggested a “what if she had turned around and avoided the entire relationship?” scenario. I mention this because, like with all of Taylor’s songs, there isn’t an absolute truth when it comes to interpreting her writing. In this case, it’s devastating how both perspectives of the bridge can be so sorrowful yet opposite at the same time.

As I mentioned before, the third verse is mostly about accepting that they will never be able to pretend it never happened. So, now that we’ve covered the general meaning of these lyrics, I’d like to dive into more specific metaphors.

“Will that make your memory fade from this scarlet maroon”

Aside from the fact that this is an obvious maroon reference, we need to remember Taylor’s tendency to use color symbolism to express her emotions. I’m not sure exactly what color she’s picturing when she talks about “fading,” but it’s likely gray. She has often used gray as the opposite of love or as a synonym for cold in many songs, so it makes sense that she expects the scarlet maroon (their love) to turn into a shade of gray—something unimportant or that could eventually disappear.

“Could it be enough to just float in your orbit?”

This line immediately evokes the feeling of centering your life around someone else. More precisely, it could have two meanings, or perhaps a blend of both. First, Taylor might be asking if it would be enough for her to be part of his life and know about it despite the baggage from their failed relationship. Alternatively, she could be asking him if she really needs to leave or if she can stay close enough to still know about him. I interpret both meanings as if they are already exes because that’s the vibe I get from the entire song. I think it would be too unhealthy to keep yourself at arm’s length from your romantic partner just to avoid losing them, and I personally don’t think that is what Taylor was trying to depict here.

“Can we watch our phantoms like watching wild horses? Cooler in theory, but not if you force it to be”

With this last metaphor (or more accurately, simile), we can finally complete the picture. Taylor is asking if remembering their time together could eventually feel like watching wild horses—if, in time, they’ll be able to look back and simply remember the lessons they learned from that period without the heaviness of the “what ifs” mentioned earlier. Here, I’d like to reference MoonSkylarr on Genius because their interpretation of these lyrics was spot-on:

“Can we watch the ghosts of us with the same reverence, admiration, and respect we watch wild horses? Wild horses are beautiful in their wildness, but man always wants to tame them. Can we look at them without wanting them to be anything other than exactly what they are?”

“So if you wanna break my cold, cold heart Say you loved me”

Taylor ends the song with a variation of the chorus. She is no longer asking for him to tell her that he loved with the way that she was, now she’s only asking to know if he ever really loved her, it doesn’t matter how anymore.

[solarwynd]

"It’s been established already that Jimin’s the odd one out when it comes to Hybe actually giving a fuck so it’s nothing new. "

True but then it's just sad face era had traumatized pjms so much, whenever other members get what jimin didn't get (not even talking about promo, or major sabotages,but even the bare minimum like the stage etc) we can't help but compare and feel sad all over again no matter how many times the topic had been done and dusted. I have moved out of pjm twt and only have a burner account with 0 tweets ,and I don't even follow anyone just lurk around a bit for any jimin updates, whenever I login it's always sad there. If it's not about kpopies dragging him every business day, it's something about company messing up with jimin. I actually feel sad it's totally spoiling their stanning experience as a fan, and to top it all, with no jimin content and 0 updates from him, I feel like it takes so much to still be around in those spaces because it's very exhausting. I hope we get that pjm2 announcement as soon as possible, I still remember the time period between official face announcement and the release date. I thoroughly enjoyed that period we used to have so many theories and discussions with each teaser or poster release.

I also do my fair share of complaining about the inequality Jimin receives compared to the other members, but it has become like yelling into the void for me. Doesn’t mean that I think pjms should stop bringing it up though, cause there’s been an increasing amount of people trying to get them to be quiet about it. And these things should be brought to light cause armys clearly don’t care. It’s also why I always say I’ll never blame pjms for being how they are in terms of their hyper vigilance and skepticism. (While still admitting that some of them do over do it where it’s not necessarily needed)

I think it’s very possible to still enjoy the stan experience without being involved in stan spaces, but for some people being in a space with others that also enjoy your interests is a big part of the appeal. Which I get. It’s nice knowing that there are other fans out there that also love jimin and his music. stan spaces can get draining and annoying. I really only ever go on pjm twitter for possible updates not to integrate myself within that space. I made an account that I’m not even using like that right now. It’s really just for pjm2. I’d rather be on here cause it’s not drowned in fanwars. I can only hope that pjm2 goes better cause it was real tough and it got to me bad last year.

“I thoroughly enjoyed that period we used to have so many theories and discussions with each teaser or poster release.”

I actually have a drafted post about this exact sentiment that I’ve been meaning to publish cause I feel the same way. I’m almost on the same level of excitement for that pre release period than the actual release date itself.

[nescaveckwriter]

Bundled, Broken Maybe Healed (Part 2)

Prompt: Bundled up in blankets - will be in bold,😱

A/N: YAY! My third one for @badthingshappenbingo 🤭, Okay y'all, this chapter is intense, I'm not kidding.. we find more out about Meredith's past and its traumatic okay... So good luck...😱💓❤️

Warnings: 18+ Only! Some language, blood and gore, normal Criminal Minds stuff, going into depth off crime scenes etc, drug use,torture, anything else I missed let me know💕

Characters: Aaron Hotchner, Dr. Spencer Reid, Penelope Garcia, Derek Morgan, JJ, Emily Prentiss, Meredith Lang.

Cover: Created by me. Also images from Pinterest and Canva.

Words:3000ish 😅

Chapter Name: Bundled, Broken, Maybe Healed? (Part one) (part two) (Part three)

something, the pinch between my toes was horrible, but the pain didn’t last long, no! I saw these little bits of spiders coming from everywhere, I tried my best to smash them but I couldn’t due restraints, it was scary, the spiders I mean, I never was a fan, I’m not sure how long it lasted, but it felt like I wanted to crawl, get out of my skin, out of my body. So when my first high came down I was back in the cage, watching how he would drug Hope,’ she paused, looked at me and said ‘no! He , Never did touch us, you know… I guess we could be thankful, this was clearly not a sexual thing,  more sadistic, he got off on our fear.’ I looked at her, this teenager who went through something horrible, and I realised that she is one intelligent human being, she profilled this man, without any experience, so she looked at me “you know, what one day, I will find Hope, and I will find the collector and I put him behind bars, make him suffer the way we did.’ I knew right then and there I needed to call Jason Gideon, maybe her healing journey starts with justice. And as the days passed and she spoke, of her time, that  everyday he’d do it over and over again, how he broke in the girls, to listen too him, too obey him, every order, he’’l train them like dogs, to fight each other, and how she did not participate in it, she’ll let the others beat her up, even Hope in the end started to beat her up, but that day she broke down, she sobbed, not because she felt the pain of her best friend turning on her, no, but because she couldn’t save her, she couldn’t stop him, from brain washing her, from ruining her, she looked me and my heart shattered, her words tore through me ‘if only I could help Hope be strong enough, he would’ve thrown her out just like me, I tried, I tried to talk to her, to make her strong, but nothing work’ she clenched her fist, ‘The collector got rid of me,because of  not listening I was bad for his business, no one wanted buy me, hell I don’t even think he advertised, but he tried to make me fear him,, and internally I did, but I didn’t show it, he would starve me for, days, I felt weak, at first but after a while, numb…  so one day he pumped me full of drugs, and I remember thinking, this is it, finally I’ll overdose and this nightmare will be over, till today I remember feeling, cold like really cold, and I wrapped myself in blankets and it didn’t help, by now I was so used to seeing the spiders, that I would talk to them, I knew they weren’t real, but to me, they we the only familiarity that I had, so I felt comfortable with, them.’ she gave a humorless laugh ‘Now, I’m probably never getting out of here doc am I?’ I smiled and told her that I understood, but really how could I? I have a feeling she deliberately skips parts, that’s too painful to tell over, or she’s afraid that she’ll scare someone, she is highly sensitive but she doesn’t show it, she hates feeling vulnerable, the moment she’ll feel scared she lash out, but at the same time she’ll care about the people around. She trusts no one, in one of our sessions she disclosed that she doesn’t even trust her parents. Sometimes I try to press that subject, but she’ll ignore it, saying ‘one time thing doc’ and start talking about something different. 

[kervl-klear]

26 beagcha

26. If they are forced to take a day off, what would they do and how would they react?

Baegcha pace relentlessly around his room while hugging one of his plush toy, Ms. Apple Bear. His face may not show much but he’s stress that Huchu had decided to lock him in today to prevent him from going out on stop-list hunting. Huchu had also removed every electronic device from his room, crippling him from his specialty.

Baegcha: “Look Docs, I just found the identity of one of the biggest CP distributor! I’m not going to sit this out!”

There is no answer, however there is a piece of paper being slipped into his room from beneath the door. Beagcha quickly pick it up to inspect. It’s a crayon drawing of presumably Beagcha walking through the door on the left side of the paper and weeping Yuseong being scold by Huchu on the right.

Beagcha sigh at the pathetic but somewhat endearing drawing.

Baegcha: “Yu, your art magnificently conveys the presence of angry docs and I feel your terror but the longer we wait, the more damage will be done!”

A page of newspaper slipped through the door, apparently the CP distributor Beagcha is planning to hunt was captured by the police and the rest of C2ISTAR definitely is the one who gets that asshole arrested.

Baegcha doubted that being arrested will change anything since this guy already got out of jail twice and is still doing the same thing. However, by being in jail. This person is now under police protection and Baegcha would rather wait until he’s out of jail again to kill him.

Clearly the rest of C2ISTAR had already predicted this.

Baegcha: “Yeah, okay. But this man is not the only one I need to stop, there are over thousands of people being assaulted every hour! Are you just going to let that happen?!”

Baegcha wait, hoping that Yuseong would understand his point. But there is no response, no crayon drawing and no newspaper. Just like everyone else, Yuseong is just going to let it happen. Beagcha went back to bed and hog every plushies on his bed in his blanket, thinking about all the victims that he could be helping right now.

Everyone seem to think the same way as Orenji, just like that day when he cracked Orenji’s head open.

Baegcha: “Hahaha….So you want me to let it happen to everyone the same way you did?”

Orenji: “No, I won’t and I’ll start by not letting it happen to you”

Baegcha tightened his blanket as he remembered that day. He was so sure Orenji would never survive that injury, he shouldn’t have worried about saving ammos. He should have stop Orenji heart right then and there just in case.

But Huchu would say other wise won’t he? What did he said again before he left the room this morning?

Huchu: “It hurt everyone whenever you endanger yourself, we care for you. I care for you, it keep me and Orenji up at night thinking what might be happening to you at that moment”

Huchu voiced grow more shaky as he continued to speak.

Huchu: “I’m scared that I might lose you one day and it’s eating me up because…I love you”

After a moment in silent Baegcha give Yuseong a big sigh.

Baegcha: “I’m not going to stop what I do, I think that hurting you guys in exchange of saving people from being traumatized for life is worth it but…”

He tensed up, he reached out to squeeze Ms. Apple bear’s paw to clam down.

Baegcha: “…every once in a while, maybe I’ll give you guys a break”

Baegcha swear he can hear Yuseong bouncing up and down in happiness and for a moment, he wish he could smile.

Baegcha: “I wonder what I can do to pass the time…”

An alphabet book slips in, followed by a messy crayon drawing of Yuseong giving thumbs up.

Baegcha: “….Thanks Yu, very cool but no thanks”

Yuseong had been sitting in front of the door the entire time isn’t he? Baegcha thought to himself, he wonder if his fear of angry Huchu is really that strong or if he is just….also concerned about Beagcha in his own way.

Beagcha decided to spend the rest of his day playing with his animals plushies, he set up a tea table and sew new clothes for them.

Beagcha: “By the way Yu, you have a plan on how you are going to give me food….right?”

It took about ten seconds before Baegcha can hear Yuseong’s little “Oh no” beyond the door followed by a running sound. Baegcha chuckle knowing that he succeeded in messing with Yuseong as Huchu actually already prepared a sandwich and placed it inside his room.

………………………………………….

Thank you for the ask. ✨