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emberfrostlovesloki · 11 months ago

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Now You're Everything [Hotch x Reader]

Photo credits: Left (@unheartbreakable) Center (@milla984) Right (@poseidonsarmoury)

Prompt: It’s been a long time coming and after an emotion-heavy year, Aaron finally shows the BAU-reader how much he wants them.

Pairing: Aaron x fem!reader. The reader uses she/her pronouns.

Category: fluff/comfort/minor whump.

Word Count: 9.9K

Content Warnings: Light swearing and drinking, mention of kidnapping and torture [Hotch], Hospitals and IVs, Minor unwanted advances [reader]. If I missed any, please let me know.

A/N: Hi, loves! Happy New Year's Eve! This is for my love @silk-spun. It is the second fic I’ve written based on my December Prompt List (linked) Dialog prompt #6: “Let’s skip the office party and go out on the town instead!” I changed the wording a bit, but this is basically all the times Aaron and the reader don’t have the right words to confess, and the one time they don’t need them to get their message across. There is one short mention of Aaron being tortured on a case, and I plan on turning that into a full fic soon. So look forward to that (?). I hope you have a great evening and stay safe. If you like this fic, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! Love Levi - ❤️

List wil all stories

_y/n_ = your name

_y/l/n_ = your last name

_y/f/c_ = your favorite color

_y/f/c/b_ = your favorite caffeinated beverage (i.e. coffee/tea/energy drinks)

_y/l/f/d_ = your least favorite designer

_y/f/d_ = your favorite drink

Aaron looked around the room which was shockingly full for it being 9:30 p.m. He scanned the groups of people clustered around tables and sitting in chairs talking. Some had plates of food, others glasses of alcohol or sparkling soda. The person whom the supervisory special agent was looking for wasn’t there. He wondered if she was using the lady's room. The last time he’d seen _y/n_ she was being cornered by Freddy from finance. Aaron hadn’t attempted to listen in on the conversation because it was mostly Fred talking to _y/n_. It seemed the pox-faced man wasn’t letting _y/n_ get a word in edge-wise. That sounded like a personal hell that he would avoid at all costs. He had to do enough wine-ing and small talk at the annual Winter Holiday party as it was. He’d talked to Strauss, the Director of the Pentagon, and all the other heads of teams that had made it to Quantico for the party. He’d heard about so many cases that they started to blend together, but for Aaron, nothing would top his team or the crimes they solved. Hotch listened to Bernard Shaw, head agent for the Tax Fraud department, as the white-haired man droned on about a new loophole for the Cayman Islands and how much of a pain it had been that year. Aaron looked over his team with a soft appreciation for how hard they all worked, how they had gelled to feel more like a family than just profilers doing a difficult, dangerous job. There was Derek, who could always be called on to help with anything. The built agent was talking to Spencer. The genius had been so young when he joined the team. Aaron had taken on a fatherly role with Spencer without even thinking about it. Before Jack had ever been born. Rossi had just taken Aaron’s place with Strauss, and they were talking about some half-shared hobby or new bureau policy. Both of those conversations looked the same. Hotch caught Dave’s eye and the older man gave a small shrug, indicating, “This is what the holiday party is for. Making nice one last time before we get a break.” Aaron gave a small nod of agreement before turning his attention back to Shaw. The man hadn’t noticed as Aaron’s attention had waned and then returned to him. Hotch cleared his throat and said, “I’m going to refresh my drink, but it was good to catch up, Bernard, and good luck in dealing with the fallout of S.B. 103b.” Bernard nodded, and the two men shook hands before Aaron walked back to the table with the alcohol on offer. As Hotch poured himself a glass of white. He guessed at how much the liquor alone for this party cost. His guess was around 2,000 dollars. The FBI didn’t ever recommend frivolous spending, but even they realized that sticking a hundred agents and department heads together required the good stuff.

As Aaron sipped on the cool chablis, he swirled the liquid in his glass slightly. The rare sound of mirth at this dull and quiet frankly depressing party was coming from his team. It was Emily, JJ, Garcia, and _y/n_.” As he looked at _y/n_ in her semi-formal _y/f/c_ dress that was just long enough to be appropriate, Hotch assumed it was some cocktail dress _y/n_ had pulled from the back of a closet behind all of _y/n_ business formal and work attire. The black tights made the outfit work in a fashion way that Aaron didn’t have the right words for. He had to tear his eyes away because if he kept looking at _y/l/n_ much longer, the butterflies in his stomach would soon unfurl their wings and move into his ribcage in a way that he hadn’t felt in a long time. Aaron moved to Rossi, who was free now for support. Dave grounded him, which he needed right now. His feelings for _y/n_ had been coming to a head for months now and somehow, Aaron didn’t feel the bureau holiday party was the place for a confession. Even if _y/n_ was receptive to his advances, he worried. His role as her superior and the age gap had him wondering if they had enough in common to sustain a relationship. They’d grown up in different decades, and y/n_ seemed to have the youth and energy he lacked as he neared late middle age. The part of Aaron that longed for _y/n_ in unexplored ways knew that Hotch’s concerns were self-imposed. That _y/n_ had been sending him small signs of affection and care that didn’t even think he deserved. But Aaron’s fear was real and steeped in policy and power dynamics that would come with having a committed relationship with _y/n_. Hotch moved next to Rossi and asked his friend about his New Year's plan. If he was currently seeing anyone. The basic life and catching up questions that they rarely had time for during work. As Dave answered, Hotch’s eye kept flicking back to _y/n_, as she laughed at some comment of Penelope’s. Rossi noticed and stopped talking about himself. Instead, he said, “She’s not going to wait forever you know, Aaron. _y/n_’s a patient person, but I think she deserves to know how you feel about her.” This comment had Hotch flush and take a breath in. Aaron had tried very hard to keep any of his feelings for _y/n_ hidden beneath a cloak of professionalism and feigned disinterest in the team's personal life as a whole. After all, he was their boss foremost, but it was hard to tune out when the team spoke of their weekends. It was doubly so when it was _y/n_. He’d overhear her complaints about bad dates and rent, and how her dryer was broken in her unit. Hotch had wanted to offer to fix it himself but stopped himself before the words could slip from his mouth. He’d also heard her when she talked about the good things like a new cafe she had found, or getting tickets for a band she adored. If _y/n_ was talking and Aaron was around, he listened but tried to look very hard to not look like he was listening. He wondered if he had played into that a little too hard. Hotch looked at Rossi and asked, “Is it that obvious? And what if _y/n_ doesn’t feel the same way? Her feelings could just be due to proximity, or that I’m her boss or something.” Rossi scoffed and said, “You’re deflecting, Aaron. This isn’t Fifty Shades of Grey. A young woman is allowed to have feelings for a guy, who in my opinion is a pretty good catch.” Dave’s complement had Aaron scoff, but that didn’t stop Rossi from continuing. “Listen, Hotch. I knew you liked her and that she liked you ever since you were in the hospital after the case in Indianapolis. I think what happened in that hospital room told me that there was more than just a feeling of friendship between you and _y/n_. As for whether her feelings are the same way for you and you do for her, I can’t tell you. I’m no love expert. But you’re never going to know how she feels about you unless you ask. And I think you both deserve to know the answer, Hotch.”

With those words of advice, Dave gave Aaron a pat on the arm and excused himself for the night. The older profiler had done the rounds with the higher-ups and was excited to head home, nurse a whiskey, and watch an episode of The Suprano’s. Aaron on the other hand still had about five people to speak to before he could excuse himself. The added discussion about _y/n_ wasn’t going to make small talk any easier. So, with wine still in hand, he steeled himself for another hour of conversation. Hotch had almost made it through the last of his people. He needed to “catch up with.” The room had cleared significantly since his talk with Rossi. Derek, Spencer, and Em had all left, waving or saying a quick goodbye to him as they exited. Garcia was talking to a tech friend of hers from the third floor, and JJ was speaking in hushed tones to Will. But _y/n_ was nowhere to be found. Hotch watched as Arnold, the last person he should talk to approached him. Aaron didn’t think he could take any more small talk, and because Arnold was in Legal, he always asked Aaron loads of questions. Although Hotch didn’t mind flexing his JD now and again, he preferred to do it in a courtroom, not at parties, and not with Arnold Shortes nearly taking notes over their conversation. Aaron turned on his heel and walked quickly to the elevator before Arnold could catch him. Even after a few minutes _y/n_ still hadn’t come back into the second-floor conference room which had been cleared and rearranged for the party. He considered that _y/n_ might have dipped out with Emily, but he was sure she would have told him goodbye before she had left. She always told him goodbye unless he was in a meeting or seemed overly absorbed in his paperwork. _y/n_ introducing her comings and goings had become so routine that he used it as an informal clock now. _y/n_ would always enter the bullpen at 7:45 a.m. sharp unless there was something amiss. And then in the evenings at 5:10 p.m., she’d knock on his office door and wave before skipping down the stairs and to a life that Aaron assumed was filled with much more interesting things than his own. In fact, Hotch had become so accustomed to using _y/n_’s timeliness that he had almost missed a meeting with Strauss because of it.

Hotch had been sitting in his office looking over a case report, waiting to hear _y/n_’s chipper, “Hey guys,” down in the bullpen. He knew once he heard that he’d have just enough time to grab a coffee, wave to the team, and then make it to Strauss’s office. But it seemed to be taking longer than usual. Concerned, Aaron looked at his watch and was startled when he realized it was already 7:55 a.m. Aaron had to run to the elevator and just barely made it to the meeting on time. After the hour with Strauss, he had found JJ and asked, “Where’s _y/l/n_?” A tinge of concern laced his voice. The media liaison had replied, “She caught a bad cold last night. She just called Emily to let her know that she’s taking the day off with PTO.” Aaron nodded, absorbing the information. He was glad to know that _y/n_ wasn’t in any trouble, or stuck in traffic, but being sick didn’t sound great either. Aaron had spent the rest of that day fiddling around anxiously. Hotch knew it was because of _y/n_ but refused to admit it. Finally, when 5:10 came around, he pulled out his cell and called _y/n_. She’d picked up on the third ring and sounded terrible as she said, “Hey, Hotch. What is it?” Aaron let out a breath and said, “Sorry to disturb you, _y/n_. I just wanted to see how you were doing?” There was a muffled cough on the line, and Aaron cringed as _y/n_ hoarsely replied, “I’m still feeling pretty bad, but the fever is down at least. Hopefully, I’ll be back in a day or two.” Hotch nodded and replied a little too quickly, “Take all the time you need, _y/n_. When you feel better, come back.” There was an awkward pause because Aaron didn’t know what else to say, and _y/n_ hadn’t expected to hear such genuine concern coming from her normally very composed superior. At least not over a little cold. Eventually, _y/n_ who was feeling sleepy again said, “Thanks for checking on me, Hotch. I’ll be alright, just need some sleep.” Again, Aaron nodded. He replied, “Okay. Rest well, _y/n_. See you in a few days.” After that, he hung up and put his head in his hands in desperation. He knew he shouldn’t be having the feelings he was for _y/n_ It was inappropriate. His inner voice reminded him, “She’s sick goddamn it. She probably doesn’t want you around right now.” Aaron did justify his line of thinking slightly because he was just picturing making her some tea to smooth her throat and tucking the blankets around her more tightly. It’s not like he was having sex with her… though he’d had those thoughts before too. In his waking mind, he could stop those images with ease, but in his dreams when he made love to her, it was always overpowering. A time or two, he’d even waken mid-dream to find his body aroused and tense. On these occasions, he’d had to go to the bathroom and find release below a steaming shower. The guilt of doing this weighed on him heavily. One of the times he had done this was during a case, and he hadn’t been able to look at _y/n_ most of the day without flushing and internally reprimanding his body and mind like a teenager. But a majority of Aaron’s thoughts about _y/n_ centered around mundane things like waking up beside her, or cooking dinner together. Aaron knew he was boring, and led a boring life, but if it was possible, he’d like to lead it with _y/n_ beside him. Aaron sighed as the elevator reached his team’s floor. He wished he didn’t sound so melancholic, so lovesick. It wasn’t like him. But _y/n_ pulled the emotions from him like the moon pulled the tides. If nothing else, Aaron had learned something valuable tonight; as Rossi had said, _y/n_ wouldn’t wait for him forever, and they both deserved to know how the other felt about the other.

The bullpen was mostly dark with a few lamps on some desks still on, plus the lamps in Aaron’s office burned down on the rest of the space with their soft halogen glow. Hotch didn’t want to seem like a creep, but he wondered where _y/n_ had wandered off to, or if she had just left without telling him. The latter sounded unlikely. Hotch moved to her desk and noticed that _y/n_’s chair was pulled out with her bulky coat draped over the back, and her sneakers and socks sitting underneath the desk. This indicated to Aaron that _y/n_ was still around. Aaron leaned against the desk, much like Morgan did every day when _y/n_ got into the office. Hotch flushed at the idea of _y/n_ sitting in the empty chair. Being so close and causal like Derek or Garcia were with her. Hotch rarely found himself jealous of Morgan for many reasons, but in this case, he was. He couldn’t afford to be too casual with anyone on the team, especially not with _y/n_. If he was, he knew he’d fall head over heels for her. It was hard enough thinking and dreaming about her. He didn’t need more fuel for that fire. Thinking about this sparked a memory from earlier in the year, and suddenly, Aaron had a sense of where _y/n_ was. It had been after a long day in October. The time change had meant that it was dark outside before anyone left the office. The whole team was still around filling out some reports, except _y/n_ seemed to be missing. Hotch approached Emily and asked, “Where’s _y/n_?” Prenitess chuckled at his question and said, “Licking her wounds up on the roof. Freddy Hareld from Finance just made a big deal about “Just how keen _y/n_ looked. And how she must just be dying to get to know the city better now that she’s part of the BAU, and wouldn’t she let him show her around on Sunday.” Hotch’s eyes grew wide at the story. He was rarely privy to office gossip, even though he knew stuff like this happened around him all the time. However, his co-workers kept him out of the loop, which he didn’t mind until now. Aaron cleared his throat and asked, “Did she seem alright?” He wasn’t one to notice or judge men much, he knew he wasn’t perfect either, but Freddy didn’t seem like _y/n_’s type. Hotch was surprised the man had mustered up the courage to ask. Emily nodded and said, “She just looked annoyed. Apparently, Fred talked, loudly, for about five minutes before she had to shut him down and tell him that she wasn’t interested.” Even though Aaron trusted Prentiss, he wanted to make sure that _y/n_ was okay for himself. Office drama could be uncomfortable. Hotch had spent a good bit of time on the roof himself when he was new to the team. It seemed to be one of the only places in the building where you wouldn’t be disturbed, but now that Aaron had his own office, he didn’t need to find an escape from the team or his own thoughts anymore Much like the first time he had found _y/n_ on the roof seeking an escape, _y/n_ was leaning against the railing, looking out onto the canopy of trees that surrounded the Quantico office and the highway beyond them. Hotch cleared his throat, as he stepped closer to _y/n_. She turned around and felt a blush paint across her face when she saw it was him.

_y/n_ had just been thinking about him, and there he was. _y/n_ had been considering how they had both been dancing around the other's feelings all year. And two things _y/n_ knew for sure, she wasn’t great at dancing, and her feet were fucking tired. _y/n_ had hoped that there would be a way for her to tell him how she felt without it being awkward or jeopardizing her job. She hoped that she’d at least shown Aaron her care with her actions if not her words. Unfortunately, the few times that had seemed perfect had been cut off by Haley and Jack. The first time had happened in June. A terrorist group was planning on poisoning the largest high school in the region. It had all been a test run for a bigger operation that would take place in D.C. The team had caught on the terrorist’s trail first. But not before Hotch had been taken and tortured for information. The few seconds of audio that Aaron’s captors had shared were so sickening to _y/n_ that she crumpled in on herself and almost vomited. She couldn’t hide how much hearing Hotch in pain was hurting her. When the cell had been caught, the other half of the team moved to Aaron’s location. _y/n_ had shot and then subdued three men before she, Rossi, and Spencer found Hotch black and blue and tied to a chair. He was barely conscious with his mouth gagged. The wad of cloth in his mouth was soaked with sweat and blood that had dripped down the side of Aaron’s face from a large gash on his eyebrow. _y/n_ helped free his mouth while Spencer cut off the zip ties around his battered arms and legs. Rossi was on the phone with the paramedics who were already en route. Once Aaron’s limbs had been freed, he slumped heavily into _y/n_, who supported his weight. She and Spencer helped him to the ground, and he groaned in pain at being shifted. _y/n_ quickly took off her outer jacket and covered his waist. His kidnappers had stripped him of everything but his briefs, and _y/n_ was certain he didn’t want to be so exposed. The paramedics came shortly after and took Aaron to the nearest hospital._y/n_ was grateful that she didn’t have much time to see or think about all the cuts and burns littering Hotch’s prone form. Seeing him like this felt so wrong that it twisted her insides.

Later, when the doctor had methodically detailed Aaron’s injuries, _y/n_ burned with a fit of anger even _y/n_ didn’t know that she possessed. When he was cleared for it, the team had all gone and saw Aaron in his room. He was surrounded and attached to multiple medical devices keeping him medicated and stable. Even though everyone appreciated Aaron and what he had gone through, no one particularly wanted to stay with him long after wishing him a good night’s rest. No one except _y/n._. Aaron knew it was his fault. He hated hospitals. He would gripe and groan and generally be in a foul mood until he was released as quickly as possible, so he was surprised in his pain-induced state to see _y/n_ pull up a chair close to his bed and just plant herself there. Aaron shifted on the bed to look at her better. That was a bad idea as a sharp pain moved up his side. Hotch muttered, “Fuck” under his breath. He moved his left hand which was attached to an IV toward his stomach to apply some pressure where the pain was radiating from. _y/n_ watched as Aaron moved around. He was straining the line of his IV, and _y/n_ jumped up softly saying, “Hey, hey. Take it easy there Hotch. Just stay calm if you can.” Aaron grunted, but acquiesced as _y/n_ took his left arm and rested it back by his side. She looked at him, concern etched on her face as she asked, “Where does it hurt, Hotch?” Aaron swallowed and almost said everywhere. But his stomach was especially tender and he said, “My, my stomach, but you don’t have to do anything _y/n_. You don’t need to stay here. I’m a pain in the ass when I’m like this.” _y/n_ nodded in understanding as she gently applied a bit of pressure to where he had been trying to reach earlier. He closed his eyes as _y/n_ gently rubbed circles over the inflamed flesh of his torso. Any words about protocol or regulations left him as soon as _y/n_’s hands met his clothed skin. He let out a breath and _y/n_ asked, “Is this okay? I can get a nurse for you?” Aaron shook his head no. He was sick of being poked at. Having three IVs was already putting him on edge. The possibility of more medical equipment was too much to bear. And whatever _y/n_ was doing was soothing him. Hotch softly said, “No nurse. Please. This is good.” Even saying those words seemed to exhaust him. _y/n_ just nodded and kept gently running her hand over his stomach. She didn’t want to think about how this was probably breaking ten rules, or how Aaron’s body looked under the flimsy hospital gown. She just kept moving her hands and watched as Hotch seemed to still and then finally sleep. When his breathing had evened out, _y/n_ pulled the covers over him again and took her seat once more. She didn’t care if he was in a mood or snapped at her. _y/n_ just didn’t think he should be alone right now. So she was going to sit with him until either he told her to leave or someone in the hospital kicked her out. It was at that moment that all of her disparate feelings for him coalesced into one of love. Not a fling or a passing fancy, but the kind of love that lasts through illness and grief and every other part of life. _y/n_ sighed and thought, “What a time to have a revelation like this,” as she kept watch over her boss, unable to leave his side.

Aaron had shown interest in her too. _y/n_ felt a bit better that she wasn’t the only one falling in love. He was more subtle about it, or at least he was trying to be. But that hadn’t stopped her from noticing how he looked at her, how his gaze lingered just a second too long in meetings. He’d pull his eyes away quickly as if he’d been caught doing something improper. Then there was the time he’d called her when she was sick and how he’d seemed a little too excited to have her back after a short four days of illness. And he looked out for her on cases. Not that Aaron didn’t look out for everyone, but he seemed to take her comfort more seriously than he needed to. He held the door for her and let her sit in the passenger seat so they could throw ideas back and forth. At first _y/n_ had thought it was just because she was the newest member of the team. But the behavior from Hotch continued, and just one time on a case, he’d pulled her out of a line of fire and rolled on top of her even though he probably didn’t need to go that far. As Aaron let out a breath of excitement over the case and the woman below him, _y/n_ caught the tells of desire on his face. It didn’t help that they were in what could be an intimate position. His pupils were wide and his breath came in little gasps. _y/n_ didn’t need to see his groin to know that he was excited down there too. After a second, Hotch quickly got up and helped _y/n_ stand too. Aaron nervously straightened his shirt and tie and after quickly asking _y/n_ if she was okay, and her response of “yes,” he moved away from her to gather some semblance of composure. The fact that Aaron was flushed and couldn’t look at her for the rest of the day told _y/n_ all she needed to know about Hotch’s thoughts about her. Or at least the uncontrollable whims of his strong body. _y/n_ didn’t let herself get carried away. Aaron was still her boss, and she was his agent. And because of this neither had said anything or acted like they were falling in love with the other because it didn’t feel like it could happen. Not to them. But now as _y/n_ sat by his hospital bed, she wondered what it would be like with Aaron. To peek behind his well-kept facade and just be close to him. _y/n_ assumed this was the nearest she’d ever come to that, so she settled in for a long night and decided if this was all she was getting, then she would accept it. Fate had never been so kind to give her something as lovely as Aaron, Hotchner, and she accepted it.

It was a long night. Hotch woke almost every hour in pain or needing to adjust for his comfort. _y/n_ moved his pillows and blankets for him, helped him drink a glass of water, and called a nurse when he needed to relieve himself. The next morning she was tired, but when Aaron woke, he seemed much improved. He softly said, “_y/n_, thanks for last night. For being here. You made being here, comfortable for me.” _y/n_ took his hand softly and rubbed over his knuckles with her thumb. Gently she said, “It was nothing, Aaron. I’m just glad you’re okay.” _y/n_ was so tired that she was about to speak transparently and say, “I’d do this all the time if you needed me to. I don’t mind staying up all night with you whether you’re sick or not.” That was the closest thing to a confession that _y/n_ could think of. But she had been interrupted when a nurse knocked on the door and said, “Mr. Hotchner, your son, and Ms. Brooks are here to see you. Should I let them in?” Hearing this, _y/n_ dropped his hand and her head a tiny bit. She stood and said, “I’ll give ya’ll some space, Hotch.” Aaron nodded yes to the nurse, and watched as _y/n_ left the room. He felt like he’d just missed something big, but didn’t know what. _y/n_ passed Haley and Jack in the hall. _y/n_ gave the pair a small smile and nod, and she made her way to the hospital lounge to get some much-needed coffee. The Hotchner-Brooks divorce was still very new, and _y/n_ wondered where things had fallen apart between the two of them. She also wondered if there was any chance at all for her and Aaro. It didn’t feel like it at the moment.

_y/n_ snapped back to the present when Aaron said her name more loudly. He was holding out his suit jacket for her and saying, “You look a little cold.” Hotch was right, she was cold. _y/n_ had wished she’d brought her coat up to the roof almost as soon as she had stepped outside. However, she was too lazy to want to go back in. She’d escaped Freddy’s boring conversation and looked at Aaron right before she moved to the roof for some fresh air. _y/n_ was pondering if she should just give up her dreams about Hotch. Neither of them seemed to be making any moves out of fear that they might say no to the other or that they might ruin the strong friendship they had now. _y/n_ was getting tired of it though. But then there was Aaron as always being a gentleman and looking out for her. _y/n_ nodded and Aaron slipped behind her, placing the jacket over her shoulders. His hands brushed over her exposed skin, and _y/n_ felt that familiar spark burn through her anytime she felt Aaron’s hands on her. Those times were few and far between. She looked over at Aaron and decided that tonight she was going to give him a line and see if he took it. If she didn’t seem interested, she’d let her infatuation go and move on. She could be happy not loving Aaron. At least she hoped she could. Hotch moved to her side next to the railing and he asked, “Was Fred trying to ask you out again?” _y/n_ flushed because it was so rare for him to ask her about her personal life. She remembered the first time it had happened she’d nearly dropped her _y/f/c/b_. That first time had been Freddy-related too. That time they both seemed embarrassed to be talking about it. Now _y/n_ was much more comfortable being open with Aaron. She looked at him and replied, “No. Not this time thankfully. I think the third time actually did it. No today he was just asking about the cases the team has been on recently, and then, inexplicably, he started talking about his pet lizard.” Hearing this, Aaron couldn’t help but cringe. _y/n_ chuckled and said, “You know he’s not a bad guy, just not the guy for me. But bless him, he needs to learn to read a room.” Aaron hummed and said, “Well I’m glad he’s ended his crusade.” _y/n_ laughed at his commentary and replied, “You know he’s right about one thing. I still don’t know this city at all. The cases keep me tired enough to not want to explore on my days off. What do you say we skip the party and you show me something worth seeing?” And here was _y/n_’s line. All Aaron had to do was give it a tug. Hotch looked at her with some surprise, like he had when he was half-dazed in the hospital bed. He cleared his throat and said, “Are you sure it’s me you want? Garcia, or even JJ could show you a better time. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind…” _y/n_ could sense that he was deflecting, and said, “No. I want you. You’ve lived here longer and you’ve gotta know the places that aren’t tourist traps. Plus, Garcia is flirting up a storm with that tech down there and JJ only has eyes for Will. I wouldn’t dare break up either of those conversations right now.” After a pause, _y/n_ added, “Come on Hotch. You looked miserable in there. You’re honestly telling me that you want to go back?”

Aaron let out a warm laugh and said, “Alright, I wasn’t particularly enjoying myself. Too much small talk makes me feel like a dog that’s been bred for show. And I never understood why they held this thing after Christmas and between New Year's. That time feels sacred in some unspeakable way.” _y/n_ was grinning and said, “Totally. I know the director said there was some sort of conflict, but that just read like bad code for, ‘Let me take my ski vacation with my family first.’ And don’t mention the playlist in there. Nobody was enjoying that, I swear to god.” Hotch had to stifle a harsh laugh to not sound unbecoming. That was another thing about _y/n_, they synced with each other’s humor. Sometimes he had to look away from her in meetings to avoid bursting out laughing. The fact was a joy and a pain in equal measure. Aaron looked over to her again, and he realized that she was still waiting for an answer. He took a breath to steel himself. Aaron left like it was now or never, and he didn’t want to let _y/n_ go. Not after all they’d been through this year. He did, however, need a moment to think about where exactly to take _y/n_. He hadn’t exactly been on the town himself since the divorce. Hotch slowly said, “I’d be happy to show you around, _y/n_, but would you give me a minute to think about where exactly to take you? I’m, um, particular about places.” _y/n_ nodded and relaxed into the railing. Aaron looked her over again. She looked ravishing in that dress, and it didn’t hurt that she had his jacket on too. He rested his hands on the cool metal and looked out onto the highway. Gently he asked, “What do you think about when you come up here? I used to spend a good deal of time up here too. When I was new to the BAU at least.” _y/n_ looked over him. Pondering the question. Trying to picture him as a green agent under Gideon. Trying to imagine him in his early thirties instead of his late forties. That all felt like a different time. She hadn’t been there then. _y/n_ moved her gaze to the highway and said, “Well most of my time up here is spent far less productively than yours was. I’m sure. In fact, three of the seven times on this roof have been an escape from Freddy. The other four times, I’m sure I was just annoyed, at myself or someone else. It’s a good place to cool off. Shake the cares of the day away.”

Aaron rolled his eyes. Most of his time up here had been spent sitting against the wall and questioning his life choices, but he didn’t verbalize that thought. He didn’t need to as _y/n_ continued, “But sometimes I like to close my eyes and pretend I can see D.C. from the rooftop. The capital or Washinton Mall. I know it’s silly, and I’ve explored that city even less than this one, but that’s why we’re here, aren’t we? To keep people safe. To keep the dream alive for everyone who doesn’t have to see the dark underbelly of this country. It gives me comfort.” Hearing this, Hotch stepped forward and placed a hand on _y/n_’s shoulder. He wasn’t sure why. He replied, “I don’t think that’s silly at all, _y/n_.” Something _y/l/n_ had said had sparked an idea in Hotch. There was a place on the border between D.C. and Virginia that he’d liked a long time ago. Politicians from either side of the aisle would meet there to make deals and broker favors. As a younger man, he had thought it was cool. Aaron looked at _y/n_ and said, “How do you feel about jazz?” _y/n_ nodded yes and said, “I don’t mind it. Improvisation is good for the soul. Gets you out there. Is there dancing?” Aaron tried to remember the intimate club and eventually nodded yes, saying, “I think so. But I wouldn’t trust me with that. I’ve got two left feet.” _y/n_’s laughter cut through the cold night and she said, “It’s alright. Me too most of the time.” Aaron shifted his hand to her lower back as he asked, “This place is too far to walk. Did you drive here?” _y/n_ replied, “No. Em took me. I was planning on taking an Uber back when I was done with my private roof party.” Aaron noticed her eyes slowly blowing out and her breath coming in faster in her chest. Aaron nodded and said, “Okay. Well, we’ll take my car if you're comfortable with it. I can drop you off at your place after?” _y/n_ agreed and said, “Sounds like a plan.”

The pair made a quick stop by Aaron’s office and _y/n_’s desk to grab their things before heading out. Neither made any formal goodbye at the party. Hotch felt oddly free as he stepped out of the field office with _y/n_ by his side. On the drive to the jazz club, he pointed out different areas of the town to _y/n_. He knew he sounded like a dad, but _y/n_ seemed interested in learning more about the area and asked follow-up questions as they cruised down the dark streets. There was no parking in front of the club, so Aaron found some down the road. The club was unassumingly nestled into the facade of a street full of high-end stores. Now it was _y/n_’s turn to point out interesting trends in the window and designers she despised. Aaron got a small tirade about _y/l/f/d_ when they passed that storefront. _y/n_ was sure Hotch had lost interest at that point, but when she looked at him, he seemed engrossed. He looked over at her and said, “Well, I’d have never known that unless you’d told me. Now I’ll have something smart to say when there’s more small talk to be made at parties.” _y/n_ smiled at Aaron. She knew she had her eccentricities, but he took them with such grace and she wondered what she’d done to earn even an hour of this man's time. _y/n_ spared him any other commentary. When they stepped into the small, dark space of the club, Aaron told the matre de that it was just two, and the man led the two toward the back of the space. The head waiter graciously motioned to a small couch near the live band playing soft jazz in the back corner of the room. Aaron let _y/n_ take a seat first, and he followed after her. Shortly after being seated a waiter came and took their orders. Aaron got an old-fashioned, and _y/n_ ordered _y/f/d_. As they waited for their drinks to arrive, _y/n_ asked Aaron, “So, how did you find this place?” Hotch did his best to summarize his first year in the BAU. How unsure he was about the shift in jobs. How Haley had been the one to get him out of the house and office. As Aaron recounted his story, _y/n_ didn’t pull away or, cringe at the mention of the former Mrs. Hotcher. _y/n_ realized as much as anyone how important Haley was to Aaron. He’d loved her for a long time before things had fallen apart. And she’d loved him too. _y/n_ was far less insecure about this fact now. She was ashamed about how she’d felt about Haley at the hospital that one time. Not only was Haley important, but _y/n_ realized that Jack was the zenith of Aaron’s life. And she respected that. Fatherhood seemed far from easy, and add being head of the BAU on top of that? Hell, Aaron made it look easy. So she listened to him open up in a way that he never had in front of her before, and _y/n_ got her small peak behind his work facade. She realized that he was just a man doing his best. Trying to juggle all of the plates at his feet, and somehow that was the most attractive thing possible about Aaron Hotchner that she hadn’t ever noticed before that instant.

Hotch looked at _y/n_ after his long-winded story and expected to see boredom there. Or disappointment at how often he’d brought up Haley or Jack. But he didn’t find it. Only a look of admiration that he couldn’t quite place. And suddenly Hotch wanted to say everything that he’d bottled up over the year and wanted to lean down and kiss _y/n_ on the lips like he had in his dreams. And _y/n_ watched as Aaron shifted in his demeanor. How his eyes were wide again and he seemed to be building to something new. Something yet said or explored between them. The sudden and insistent beeping of Hotch’s phone cut off that moment in an instant. Aaron pulled back from _y/n_ a bit and murmured, “Sorry,” as he accepted the call. After a second, Hotch’s mood changed again, as he replied to the other end of the line. “Is he alright? What’s the matter?” _y/n_ pulled back a bit more, realizing this was a private conversation and she was a bit too close to Aaron for it to be happening like one. His frown and worry lines increased, as he listened to the dialog she couldn’t hear. After a minute he replied, “Yes, I’ll head over right away. You said the doctor was on his way too?... Yeah, yeah. I’ll just be twenty minutes or so… Okay. Tell Jack I’m on my way… Yeah. Bye.” Aaron dropped his hand with this cell in it and looked at _y/n_ with sad eyes. She looked back and him and said, “Is it Jack?” Aaron nodded and replied, “Haley said he has a bad fever, and it’s getting worse. She called a doctor and she thinks I should come over. _y/n_, I’m sorry.” _y/n_ gave him a pat on the arm and said, “Go be with your son, Aaron. There are more important things than me in the world. At least in your world.” Hotch nodded with the same sad eyes. He realized how much of a sacrifice _y/n_ was making for him, how life in the BAU was a whole big load of sacrifice. Aaron stood, and just to show a fraction of how grateful he was for _y/n_’s presence in his life, he leaned down and kissed her forehead. It was chaste, and he pulled away before he could get ahead of himself.

Aaron was gone before _y/n_ could even fully register what had happened. The bell at the door told of Hotch’s departure, and _y/n_ could have screamed out of desire or despair at how the night had come to a quick conclusion. But she didn’t. _y/n_ knew how important Jack was to Hotch. Everything else but his son was at the periphery of Aaron’s life, and Jack was at the center. As _y/n_ settled back into the loveseat, now alone, she contemplated how yet again any plans or revelations of their feelings had been dashed. But _y/n wasn’t mad about it. _y/n_ had to remind herself that for the half hour, they had been together that night, Aaron had allowed her to see more of himself. And he was, as _y/n_ expected, as good a man as they came. _y/n_ thought, “How often does a girl really get to see a good man?” It was a pleasure, even if it was for just an evening.

The final few days of December passed in a wave of the hand. _y/n_ had asked Aaron if Jack was alright the morning after their night on the town, and he’d said that the fever had broken in the night and that his son was on the mend. Aaron had asked _y/n_ in the same text exchange if she’d gotten home okay after his sudden departure. She had told him that she’d called a Lyft soon after he’d left to get home. And then, before _y/n_ knew it, she was packing her bags for a long weekend at one of Derek’s properties on a lake outside the city limits. She was carpooling with Emily and Garcia. _y/n_ had heard that Morgan’s New Year’s Eve parties were times to remember and she was finally going to experience one for herself. _y/n_ was already excited to be spending time with her friends, but when Emily said, “You know Aaron’s coming too? He apparently called Morgan last minute and asked if there was still an empty bed, _y/n_’s jaw dropped. _y/n_ quickly composed herself and said, “Well the more the merrier.” Em rolled her eyes and said, “The more the merrier my ass, _y/n_. You know he’s just going there for you. When are you going to catch on that he’s in love with you?” Penelope agreed from the backstreet and said, “Honestly. _y/n_. He’s been making googly eyes at you all year. And what was that with him taking you out after the Holiday Party? Do you see Hotchy doing that with anyone else?” _y/n_ sighed exasperated with her friend's encouragement. She half-heartedly said, “Well, he could have been.” this had Garcia and Prentiss cackling and Penelope said, “This is the time, _y/n_. I swear. If it’s not, I’ll pull Hotch aside myself and give him a piece of my mind.” Despite _y/n_’s friends banter, _y/n_ felt reluctant. None of the other times seemed to work out, and she didn’t see how this was going to be any different.

As Morgan’s lake house came into view, _y/n_ tried to let everything go. Whatever happened would happen, and she planned on having fun no matter how the next day and a half went. The trio of women were the second to last to arrive. Spencer joined them a half-hour later. Derek quickly showed everyone to their rooms. It felt like an adult sleepover and an energy charged the air. For the first hour or so the team just relaxed and unpacked. Derek, Rossi, Spencer, and Aaron sat on the leather couches and talked about the year. Their highs and lows. They also debated which case was the most interesting from the year. As the men talked, Emily, _y/n_, JJ, and Garcia all tried on the dresses they had brought for the end of the night. As they were helping with the zippers and hemlines, _y/n_ said, “I’m sorry Will couldn’t come tonight, J.” JJ smiled and said, “Yeah. But I think it’s fine. We’ll be married soon enough and we’ll have the rest of our lives to be together. Tonight feels like the gang is back together in a nostalgic sort of way. You know what I mean?” The other nodded alone and Emily said, “I feel ‘ya JJ. What a year it’s been. But we’re all happy for you know. I think you got the last good guy on the market with Will.” JJ grinned and helped _y/n_ slip into her ‘dress.” The media liaison seemed to glow with a pre-marriage, I’ve-found-the-love-of-my-life aura even four months before her wedding day. And suddenly all the women were dressed, and they all looked at each other and complimented each other. Emily was in a sleek purple pants suit. JJ was in a fitted black dress. Garcia, as always, was wearing a bright orange tulle skirt with a pink top, plus white fingerless gloves. The tech noted, “And I’ve got about ten million little things to put in my hair too!” Lastly, _y/n_ was wearing something far slinkier than her friends. It essentially amounted to a lot of large, shimmery _y/f/v_ sequins held together with tiny metal rings. _y/n_ hadn’t worn it since before turning twenty and she couldn’t remember why she’d bought it. “Maybe for a rave?” She thought. Because the garment was so sheer, she was wearing sensible black underwear and a matching bra underneath, but _y/n_ flushed at the one time she’d gone clubbing without the undergarments beneath. That had been a fun evening.

The compliments made the rounds, and Garcia told _y/n_, “You look drop-dead good in that, _y/n_. The boys won’t know what hit them.” At the mention of “the boys,” _y/n_ looked at the ground and said, “You know I would have picked a different outfit if I’d known Hotch was coming.” The others snickered, and _y/n_ laughed too, saying, “I’m being serious. I’m not trying to look like a slut in front of him. The brief said ‘Fun New Year's attire and this is the funniest, New Years-ist dress I’ve got.” Emily moved forward and gave _y/n_’s shoulder a pat saying, “You’ll be fine, _y/n_. You look glorious. Plus you’re the youngest one here. That means you can get away with wearing something more risque. I’m just shocked you can wear something from that long ago. I’m lucky if I could pull off something from two years ago and it look good, I can’t even think about five or ten.” Prentiss shuddered at the thought, and that got a good laugh out of all of them.

A knock at the closed door, had them all look away from each other. It was Derek saying that he, Aaron, and Rossi were going to take a walk along the path that went around the lake nearby. And if any of them wanted to join them? _y/n_and Em jumped at the chance. The pair quickly changed back into their casual clothes and headed out with the guys. The walk was pleasant and they all just took in the fresh air and saw the trees surrounding the water. Aaron was walking a few steps behind _y/n_ and he contemplated his feelings about her once more. Even he was getting annoyed with himself. He blamed it on being indecisive in the worst possible area of his life, partnership. But he’d decided today was going to be the day. He was going to bite the bullet and ask _y/n_ how he felt about her. Even though he couldn’t picture the words leaving his mouth, he swore to himself that it was going to happen. The walk concluded, and then everyone got some drinks which Aaron happily and skillfully mixed. Then Derek and Rossi made dinner and everyone ate outside around the fire. And by that time it was already ten and the first fireworks were dotting the sky. Aaron and _y/n_ were sitting next to each other. Close enough that he could move his arm just an inch and he would be touching hers. Hotch’s eyes stayed on the sky as he asked, “Do you have any plans for the New Year?” It was too cliched to ask about resolutions, but he did wonder what someone like _y/n_ thought about the future. _y/n_ turned her gaze to him, and replied, “I don’t know. I want my apartment to feel more homey. It’s still giving college vibes if I’m being honest. I’d like to buy some better furniture, like the opposite of the stuff from IKEA. And then there’s helping JJ with the wedding, and then just going out more. Seeing the city like we did after the party.” _y/n_ felt like saying, “I’d like doing that with you,” and also, “Does this make me sound boring?” But _y/n_ couldn’t vocalize either of those thoughts as Gacia stepped out onto the patio and proclaimed, “It’s dress-up time, baby girl!” _y/n_ shook her head and chuckled. Aaron gave her a hand up and watched as she disappeared into the house. _y/n_’s list sounded just up his alley, and he wondered why he’d been putting off his feelings for so long. Why he couldn’t just man up and tell her he loved her? That he was mad about _y/n_. Aaron sighed and walked inside after _y/n_.

It was 11:15 when the girls were all dolled up with their outfits, heels, and makeup. Derek had the TV playing with the countdown to the ball drop on as ambient noise. The champagne was ready to be popped, and the new year was rung in with friends and laughter. Garcia and Derek were both oddly big about watching the ball drop. _y/n_ had interrogated Penelope about this on the way up to Morgan’s house. Garcia had just said, “It’s tradition, and you don’t mess with tradition.” Just as the group of women stepped into the light to be seen for the first time, the power went out. There was a moment of silence and then Derek said, “Really house. You do this to me now?’ That got everyone laughing, and Aaron asked, “Where’s the breaker Morgan? I’ll give it a look.” Derek told him and Hotch stood outside for a second. While Aaron was gone, Penelope and Morgan talked about what they would do about a countdown. Nobody wanted to just look at the clock. That, Morgan had said, “Wasn’t festive at all.” Aaron came back and said, “It’s not good news, the main fuse is fried.” That had Derek thinking and he announced, “Alright, change of plans. There’s a dive bar down the road. If we book it, we can make it there before midnight.” There was little complaint from the group as Morgan and Penelope hustled everyone into two cars and down the street. There was so much excitement that nobody got to see the women’s outfits until they were standing outside the bar. The space was a dive and it was packed with partiers. The walkway up wasn’t paved, so Aaron took _y/n_’s hand with his left, and even though he didn’t need to, he placed his right on her lower back. Again he felt that spark shoot through him. The cool sequins juxtaposed to _y/n_’s warm skin were doing things to him that he didn’t want to think about right now. Or maybe it was the dress that didn’t leave much to the imagination. Either of those was a good option. Inside, the team found a spot to stand and watch as the time ticked down from 11:55 to midnight. Derek joked and said, “Alright, who’s kissing who when it’s time?” Emily raised a hand and teasingly said, “I volunteer for you, Morgan.” The team laughed and then started counting down. Everyone except Hotch, who was standing a bit farther back. _y/n_ sighed, knowing he was never a big fan of crowds. She stepped close to him. Even as Aaron sought a moment of reprieve, both _y/n_ still had to stand almost body to body to avoid bumping into anyone. As “THREE, TWO, ONE” were unanimously chanted in the tight space, _y/n_ was going to try and pick up where their conversation had stopped earlier in the night. To see if Aaron had any plans going into the New Year. But she didn’t get the chance to as the call of “Happy New Year!” Hotch bent down and pressed his lips to hers.

Aaron had meant for it to be a little peck. Just something to ring in the new year with. But _y/n_ only stood in shock for a moment before she realized what was happening, and she’d waited so god damn long for this very moment that she quickly leaned into it, pressing her body to Aaron’s as her arms wrapped around him. Aaron reciprocated in kind and placed one of his hands on her hip and the other on the crown of _y/n_’s head. Holding them together like he might fall apart if he let her go. Aaron's lips were slightly chapped and his cologne, which _y/n_ knew well, crept over her like a sunray. As soon, as they’d started, they didn’t want to stop. Then it dawned on both of them, like they hadn’t been yearning for the other for over a year, that they didn’t have to stop. So they didn’t. Not until they had to pull away panting for air. And once they’d gotten breath back in them, they came together again. This time it was more cautious. More subdued as Aaron began to memorize the shape of _y/n_’s soft mouth pressed against his own, _y/n_ made a small contented sound that only he could hear and smiled as she placed her hands on his chest. _y/n_ his body in a way that indicated an intimacy that had always been there between them. The rest of the team watched them with Garcia saying, “About time. My god, I thought I was going to have to lock them in a closet together later tonight.” Rossi joked and said, “Well, there’s still time to do that later,” as he came back with a handful of champagne flutes. Dave handed one to each member of the team and then walked a pace over to _y/n_ and Aaron. Hotch was looking into _y/n_’s eyes but stopped when he noticed his friend. Rossi smiled and said, “Alright you kids. How about you take a moment and join us for a toast?” _y/n_ flushed, but nodded taking a glass from Rossi. Aaron chuckled and got a glass himself. He never let his hand lose contact with _y/n_’s side as all three walked back to the table. Rossi gave Aaron a strong pat on the shoulder as they moved to the group and winked at _y/n_, which only made her flush further. Hotch didn’t even care as the whole team's little “oohs and ahhs” sounded at their return. Aaron realized that scrutiny or affection didn’t feel so bad with _y/n_’s hand in his. He realized with full clarity that she’d been there all along, and he’d just not moved his hand to meet hers. He’d tell her he was sorry for that later. For stringing her on so long. He’d tell her he loved her more times than he could count too. But for now, as everyone lifted their glasses saying “Happy New Year!” The future never looked brighter.

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dwonfilm · 8 months ago

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Come hell or high water. | Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Looming over the Winchesters and [Y/N] is the war between heaven and hell. Dean will ultimately be faced with a choice he’d never be able to make. What will happen?

This will be a multi-part story, not necessarily set in a specific season but around 4-5 would be the best fit.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Mentions: Sam Winchester, Lucifer, John Winchester

Warnings: Lots of angst, sadness, etc, supernatural level violence mentioned, injuries

Here’s Part III if you haven’t read.

Flashbacks are in bold.

Part IV:

“I’m here to inform you, Dean Winchester, that you’ve got an incredible choice on your hands. One that will alter everything you stand for and everything you believe in—a choice that will tear you apart inside until you’re asking to be Michael’s meat suit.” [Y/N]’s stomach dropped hearing this, because that meant it was something bigger than even her intuition could’ve imagined. “Yeah? What’s this ‘important choice’ then huh?” Dean asked, Sam watching from the other side. He had just as bad a feeling about this as [Y/N] did—neither had any chance to speak up though, Lucifer answering immediately. “It’s simple really. You, oh you’ve got the choice of who gets a one way ticket to pain and suffering. Dean Winchester, it’s your decision who gets sent to hell here today. Little Sammy-boy..” he paused, gesturing towards the younger of the Winchester brothers. “or..” Dean’s heart was racing, knowing exactly what was coming but dreading having to hear it said aloud. “..your beautiful, so very beautiful, girlfriend [Y/N].”

It had been several minutes since Lucifer dropped the biggest bombshell imaginable on the three hunters. Dean’s ears were ringing, the only other sound in them was the rapid beating of his heart. Silence had befallen the room and to the devil? This was hilarious. It made it better that despite any worries, truly none of them could’ve seen it coming. Eventually the silence became too much and he couldn’t contain the humor he found in one of the worst situations Dean had ever been put into—bursting out laughing to break the silence. [Y/N]’s heart felt like it was beating once per minute, much like she was dying a slow and agonizing death, when it fact it was racing so fast it would alarm anyone. Sam’s eyes held a mixture between anger and pain, knowing that even asking this question was damning enough.. but all three knew that Lucifer meant it. No, this wasn’t a sick theoretical scenario to throw off the hunters. It wasn’t a bluff, this was a very real situation that none of them could’ve expected. It wasn’t something that even crossed their minds to happen today, or ever if honesty was in question. “Oh c’mon, why the long faces?! I mean, at least one of you will always be nice and toasty warm!” Lucifer was having a blast, finding even more humor in the reactions of the humans standing before him. Sam was the first to react, the anger taking the forefront. “What even is the endgame here Lucifer? Why would this need to happen?” He asked, eyes glancing towards his older brother and his sister-in-law by principle. He felt his heart breaking for all of them, himself included. Again this had Lucifer tilting his head back in laughter.

“I already told you, Sammy-boy. You two are far too resistant to your true purpose. A lot of your brother’s resistance is found in that beautiful [Y/H/C] haired girl standing next to him, so, I offered the choice to cut one of those lifelines because I am insanely generous.” Dean instinctively moved to stand in front of her when she was referenced by the fallen angel, not wanting Lucifer to even glance at [Y/N]. She grabbed the back of Dean’s suit jacket to steady herself and also as a way to confirm this wasn’t a nightmare. Which, unfortunately, wasn’t happening because when she grabbed the fabric nothing around her shifted. Squeezing her eyelids closed trying to hold the emotion inside, she didn’t need Lucifer seeing any kind of breakage. “I’ll go.” Dean said, almost quietly. Sam and [Y/N] opened their eyes widely at this and a silence hung in the air again for a moment. “Mmm.. no. See we’ve already had you Deany, and since your little angel on speed dial busted you free.. we don’t want you. You also can’t say yes to my idiot of a brother if you’re in the cage.” Lucifer explained. “And I can?” Sam instantly fired back, venom dripping from his words. “I mean.. you could because I would be oh-so close. Torturing you until your mind broke and you finally gave into the truth—you need to say yes and so does Dean.” Now the devil was getting irritated, eyes dancing along the three hunters in front of him. “I’m not doing this shit, this is bullshit.” Dean said, getting a little louder probably due to the irritation levels rising within him. “Oh but you have to, see this isn’t just a theoretic questionnaire. If you don’t choose, I will.” Lucifer replied, staring directly into the eldest Winchester’s eyes.

Silence again fell over the room, tension and emotion threatening to spill at any second. “Tick Tock, Winchester. I don’t have all day.” It was clear despite any form of annoyance that Lucifer was loving this entire situation. [Y/N] grips his jacket still, so tightly that her knuckles are turning white. Every bit of her is willing this to be someone kind of dream. Whether she’s asleep, whether they’ve been captured, she just needs this to be anything but reality. “You can’t just sling these kinds of things around Lucifer.” Sam thought aloud, which drew a dry laugh from the fallen angel’s lips. “I can’t? Who exactly is gonna stop me? You three?” He replied, wearing a shit-eating grin because all three hunters knew that they couldn’t stop this. No one could. It was the biggest abuse of power in a world where god couldn’t care less about what happened. “You really want to go to war with your brother that badly?” Sam pushed, taking a step towards the devil himself. “Why? What is that war gonna change? Even if you win, you really think the rest of the angels are gonna let you walk out freely?” Sam continued, emotion in every piece of his tone. Almost pleading to the humanity in Lucifer that he knew probably didn’t exist but he needed to try something. Dean couldn’t do this, it would tear him apart from the inside just like Lucifer wanted it to do.

“It’s the fate of the world and it’s the fate of the both of you—you think bargaining with the fucking devil is gonna change anything? You think that’s gonna work? Whether the three of you like it or not, this is exactly how the world works. There’s no fighting against the machine. There’s no changing fate—there’s simply delaying it and the more you delay it the more it’s gonna hurt when you lose everything and everyone that you’ve ever loved.” Lucifer had taken a step closer to Sam and they were practically face-to-face. “We don’t believe that! You can’t deny we’ve changed outcomes already, you think we’re gonna just stop there and submit to you?! Submit to this bullshit fate that you stand here preaching?!” Sam’s emotional side was spilling over into the angry side and he felt the tears welling up in his eyes. Lucifer had anger dancing in his own, staring a hole into Sam’s face when all of a sudden.. breaking the tension he.. laughed? “I see what you’re doing Sammy-boy, ah, you almost got me.” He laughed harder and shook his head. “No more distractions, no more dragging it out.” Lucifer now shifted his attention back onto Dean. “Now, back to the task at hand. Spotlight is on you Deany! Make your selection.” He teased, the enjoyment now finding its way back to the fallen angel’s facial features.

There was that uncomfortable silence again, settling over the musty room. Dean’s heart hadn’t stopped its heavy beating since Lucifer’s plan had been revealed to them. Now his palms felt a little sweaty, knowing that this was something that likely was happening. None of them seemed to have any kind of plan to weasel outta this one—which only meant one thing: someone was going to hell alongside Lucifer. Dean swallowed harshly, slowly looking between his brother and the love of his life. How was he supposed to make a decision between the two people who meant the most to him? Choose one of the two people that kept him going to face the torture, pain and suffering that he’d endured not too long ago? Said pain and suffering that he hadn’t even fully processed yet. Subtly his gaze moved between Sam and [Y/N], sighing as his brain was trying to compute having to make such a choice. He knew that’s why Lucifer had chosen this, because there was no way this kind of decision would be anything other than cataclysmic to his psyche. [Y/N] turned towards her boyfriend and saw the pain in his eyes��that one glance into his green hues and she was feeling every bit of agony that was swimming between his ears.

No matter the wits that the trio shared, it didn’t appear that they’d find a way out of this sick game Lucifer was playing. All of them were stressed and frustrated to levels that they’d likely never been before now. Maybe ones they’d never reach again. “I’m waaaaaaaaaaaaaiting.” Lucifer sang out to them. All three glared towards the fallen angel but that only made him chuckle more. “Ooooh so scary! Whatever will the Devil do?!” He spoke, tone mocking them and their situation. “Dude, shut up.” Sam spoke, exhausted. [Y/N]’s eyes had moved back to her boyfriend rather quickly after leaving Lucifer and they’d stayed there. Minutes had passed by and once again the dark, musty room had fallen into silence. Of course she couldn’t read minds but it wasn’t difficult for her to tell just how much pain this thought process was causing Dean. She knew he couldn’t make this call, he couldn’t choose between her and Sam. Nor should he have to choose. So, sighing, she knew exactly what she had to do. It wasn’t going to be easy, it was going to quite literally take everything she had.. but for Dean she would give it all twenty times over.

“I’ll go.” Her voice was quiet but the words echoed in Dean’s mind like they’d been blasted through surround sound. “What?” Sam asked, pain in his voice as he turned toward [Y/N]. Dean’s heart was beating even louder and he didn’t think that was possible. “Baby..” he finally spoke, his voice barely audible. Dean wasn’t even sure if he said it out loud until she met his gaze with an utterly broken look reflecting within her eyes. [Y/N] took the steps necessary to close all space between she and Dean, tears spilling from her eyes. Cupping his face within her hands and just staring deeply into the beauty of his green eyes that she always loved so much. [Y/N] wished that she could take all of his pain away in this moment, but she knew she couldn’t. No matter what went down today things would be altered for Dean for the rest of his life. “You can’t..” He spoke, hands clutching her blazer so hard that his knuckles were turning white. Now tears had begun slipping from his own eyes as he gazed at the woman he loved. [Y/N] wished there was something she could say to fix this, her heart being ripped from her chest would feel less painful than seeing this look in Dean’s eyes.

“Dean.. I’m not gonna let you make a choice between me and your brother. You’ve spent your entire life protecting Sam, you raised Sam, I know you wouldn’t send him to hell and I’m not mad at that. It’s one of the reasons I fell so hard for you.” She spoke, brushing her thumbs underneath of Dean’s eyes to wipe the tears away. “I love you, more than I have ever loved anyone on this earth. I know this isn’t what we wanted..” She sighed, trying to shake how utterly broken she was away from her voice. “I don’t want you to go..” Dean cried out, somehow gripping the fabric of [Y/N]’s top harder than he was before. “I know, my love.. I know. I don’t wanna go either but there’s no other way out of this.” She cooed, tears streaming down her face. “Please don’t forget me. Think of me and how much I love you every day. I’ll always be in your heart, okay? They can never take that away from you. I know this is gonna hurt baby, but you’ve gotta keep pushing for me too. Hey..” she cried, leaning her forehead directly against her boyfriend’s. “I believe in you, I have always believed in you. I will never stop believing in you, Dean Winchester.” She sobbed, the eldest Winchester’s hands finally releasing their grip upon the fabric of her blazer and coming upward to cup her face now. “Promise me you won’t give up. Promise me you and Sam will keep fighting this, keep saying no to this bullshit.”

“I promise.” He sobbed, keeping his eyes on her and not moving them for a second. [Y/N] immediately crashed her lips into his, the rest of the world melting away. Nothing surrounding them but empty space and their love. Each of them clinging to the closeness they shared, hands on their lover’s face and keeping them for the longest time they could. “Alright, let’s go. I’m bored.” Lucifer spoke up with annoyance in his tone and that broke the magic of their kiss. Heaviness was surrounding the group now, Sam approaching the two of them. “Love you, Sammy. Please take care of him.” [Y/N] sobbed out, reaching one hand towards her brother-in-law’s face. “I promise I will, [Y/N/N.] Love you too.” Sadness was seeping through the younger Winchester’s voice too. Tears slowly running down his cheeks. “I said hurry up.” Lucifer ordered to which she snapped. “You’re dragging me to hell for no good fucking reason, I’m going willingly so shut the fuck up and let me say goodbye.” Dean sobbed and hearing that word. Sam backed up again, letting his brother and [Y/N] have their final moment. “I love you, Dean Winchester.” She spoke, looking directly into his pained emerald eyes. “I love you more, [Y/N] [L/N].” He cried out, knowing this was the end. Slowly they let each other go. She turned towards Lucifer with a scowl and took one step, but immediately turned back to Dean. Quickly her hand flicked to the back of her neck and she unclasped the necklace that Dean had given her for their three year anniversary. Inside the locket attached to the chain were two photographs. One was the first photo they’d ever taken together, which was inside when he’d gifted it to her—the second was one they added not too long ago. It was after Dean had come back from hell and they’d begun cherishing every moment more than they already had. No one could’ve predicted that such a short time later, they’d be here. That they’d have to be saying another forced goodbye. Slowly [Y/N] slipped it into his hand and closed it into a fist so he wouldn’t drop it.

Sam had taken a couple steps to his brother and placed his own hand on his shoulder, squeezing in an attempt to ground him. He wasn’t sure that would even help, but he needed to try and do something. He needed to make sure that Dean knew he was there for him, which of course he would, but in the moment things were going to get ugly. Emotions would fly and Sam needed Dean to know that he wasn’t alone. Lucifer grabbed [Y/N] by the wrist and within the blink of an eye they were both gone. Dean clutched that locket tight and fell to his knees, screaming and crying out the most heart wrenching noises that Sam had ever heard. It was very similar to when Sam had died in his arms, but of course, the younger Winchester didn’t witness that.. [Y/N] did. Slowly, Sam lowered himself to the ground and got on his knees too, pulling Dean into a hug while all the elder of the two could do was sob violently. They stayed there for what felt like years, until Dean couldn’t physically sob anymore. Now? He was just silent. Sam had managed to drag his brother out of the building, they walked a little ways and finally Castiel could get to them. Naturally the angel was confused when there was only two, Sam having to explain what had happened. Cas just looked at Dean with sadness, but Dean’s gaze hadn’t left the ground. After figuring out where they’d been, Cas zapped the brothers and the impala back to the motel.

Sam had entered the room first, just wanting to lay down but his heart sunk again. There, just where they’d been left, sitting all across the room were [Y/N]’s things. Dean, who’d been quiet the whole time, began sobbing again seeing the remnants of their life before Lucifer had torn it apart. He didn’t care about what he was wearing or how long he’d been in it, he just crawled into the bed and grabbed his favorite flannel—well his second favorite. [Y/N] had stolen this one and wore it all the time so he needed to find a new favorite but god, it smelled just like her and he needed it right now. Laying down and putting it between his arms, he began silently crying and thinking about the day he met her.

“Hi, I’m Detective Bonham. Can I ask you a couple questions?” He’d approached the victims daughter. “Son that’s not necessary.” John spoke, which caused the young woman to turn around. “John?” She asked, clearly distraught since it was her father that had been the victim of murder. “Hey kiddo. I’m sorry about your dad.” He replied, approaching the young lady and giving her a gentle hug. “Thanks..” her voice was soft and emotional. John pulled away and Dean’s heart stopped then and there. His eyes finally saw the young woman and she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. “This is your son?” She asked, he nodded and blinked a couple of times before snapping out of it. “Oh, yeah, hi.. I’m Dean.” He smiled, which made her smile too. Dean had extended his hand toward her and she took it, shaking it firmly enough. “I’m [Y/N].” John coughed, which worked to snap his son out of the daze he’d clearly been in since laying eyes on the woman. “I met her dad on a hunt years back. We weren’t overly close, most people in this life aren’t. However, whenever I’d have to come out to Arizona.. [Y/F/N] would help me out. I was always thankful, so when I heard what happened..” John trailed off, not needing to rehash the details. Dean’s face fell. “I’m sorry about your dad.” He’d said, gazing into her eyes with a softness reflecting in his own. “I appreciate it.” She replied and while she was obviously sad, there was a softness in her eyes too. John himself could tell that they’d felt their hearts sing that day, smiling just a little at how they were lost in each other.

Dean had known from the day he laid eyes on [Y/N] that he was in love. Sure, he’d fought it for a little while, mostly because he didn’t think he was worthy of anyone’s love and partly because he was young, dumb and needed to explore—least that was what he told himself. However that all changed when they’d been working a case without his dad and it had gone wrong.

“[Y/N]!! [Y/N] where are you?!” Dean yelled. He’d just successfully salted and burned the bones of a ghost that was killing people with family secrets, but not before it had launched [Y/N] against the wall. However she wasn’t where she’d hit, or where he thought she’d hit the wall, so he was frantically trying to find her. “[Y/N] I’m serious where the hell are you?!” He called after her, worried that it was the worst case scenario. “D-Dean.. I’m here.” She croaked out, holding her ribcage. Dean would’ve felt relief if he hadn’t noticed blood on her hand. “What happened?!” He asked, rushing to her side and kneeling in the grass. Dean gently pulled her hand away from her side so he could get a better look, immediately noticing the gash in her side that was bleeding. “Must’ve hit a part of the wall with some shit sticking out or something.” She replied, Dean ripping one of his extra shirts and quickly tying it around [Y/N]’s ribs. Without saying anything else, he picked her up bridal style and began walking towards the impala. “I’ve got you, babe.” He froze internally for a moment when he realized what he said, but instead of reacting negatively, she managed a smile. “I know you do.” [Y/N] replied.

Dean had stayed with her the entire time she was at the hospital, which had been a couple of days. After that? They were inseparable. At first there was no official label but soon enough, after that fight about him flirting with people for information, they’d been as official as official gets. Now he was alone in the romantic sense and it was already killing him. Sam just watched over his older brother, sadness written in every bit of his facial expression. He wanted to say something, anything to help his brother but he knew there was nothing that he could say. Right now, Dean needed to wallow and feel all of his sadness. It was something that broke Sam’s heart, both because of his personal relationship with [Y/N] and obviously for his brother. Mourning the person he loved more than anything in the world, he never expected he’d have to leave her side again.. or vice versa. When Dean was ready? They’d start looking for a way to bring [Y/N] back.

• —– ٠ tag list: @roseblue373 ✤ ٠ —– • ·

#dean winchester #dean x reader #fanfic #supernatural #dean winchester imagines #spn #spn imagines #dean winchester x reader #fanfics #dean winchester x female!reader

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here-there-be-drag0ns · 1 year ago

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I just realised ive never actually talked about my thoughts on religious chip even though i think about it constantly ever since he mentioned having a holy symbol and holy water and going out of his way to replace those after he lost them to the electrodon and also i fucking love making up fantasy religions and pantheons because its soooo fun

ANYWAY

onto my thoughts on what god chip follows and how he got there:

basically Chip follows a god much, much older than Aster or Lundadaeyis, and far more distant. this god is nearly forgotten, followed and worshiped by very few people. this god does not care whether or not people follow him, of course, because it changes nothing in his domain either way. technically, this god could even be considered one of the Great Old Ones, a god whose true name was forgotten centuries upon centuries ago and whose legend is passed on only by word of mouth from follower to follower. those who know of him call him The Narrator.

The Narrator is the god of all stories told throughout the world. He is the god of chance meetings and fated encounters, of accidental occurrences and inevitable events, of the roll of the dice and pre-written prophecies.

(its dm grizzly. chips god is straight up literally just dm grizzly. i made dm grizzly a god.)

As a kid, Chip was never all that into the religions of mana. He found the concept of fate too restricting and the idea of total free will terrifying. He didn't like the idea that every bad thing that ever happened to him was always going to happen no matter what nor did he like the idea that it was the result of his choices, and therefore his fault. So he didnt pay much attention to any talk of Aster and Lunadeyis on the small island he grew up on.

But he was approached one day, when he was maybe 14, by someone very plain, but weathered and with eyes that had seen much. The person offered him a pendant shaped like a quill with a twenty-sided die dangling below it, and said he "looked like a young man with a story to tell". He told chip about The Narrator, a god who simply observes and chronicles and changes the story only to make it more interesting, and even then leaves it up to chance. And something about it called to chip. Maybe it was the lack of pressure. the idea that maybe the bad things werent always going to happen, but that they also weren't anyone's fault, really. or that if more bad things happened, even if it was his fault it wasn't for nothing - it'd be a good story to tell, and at least someone would get something out of it.

So chip became a follower of The Narrator. his belief is a quiet one. hes not the praying type, and The Narrator isnt the kind to demand prayers. perhaps if you toss one up to him, offering to change the story in a way that interests him, he may roll the dice for you, but otherwise he just Is. and that's all chip needs. he just needs something to point to and say "this isn't for nothing", he needs a reason why the bad things that happen are worth it, he needs a reason to believe his story isnt over yet. so he wears that holy symbol with the quill and the die and he believes quietly and he hopes it suits the narrative for him to keep his friends and find his crew.

#dragons hoard #jrwiblr #jrwi riptide #just roll with it #jrwi #chip jrwi #chip nolastname #jrwi chip #jrwi headcanon #religious chip jrwi #just roll with it riptide #this also feels soooo relevant to me with the current running bit of chips belief in 'the one true god' lmao

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paint-it-dead · 6 months ago

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I googled the Belladonna of Sadness and: “To take revenge, she makes a pact with the Devil himself who appears as an erotic sprite and transforms her into a black-robed vision of madness and desire.” (Femto, the blessed king of longing) “The spirit visits Jeanne once again and rapes her in exchange for more riches“ (Gennon and Griffith) ”the baron offers to make Jeanne the second-highest noble in the land, but she refuses, saying she wishes to take over the entire world.” (Ok Miura HAD to have seen this, right? Wtf…Griffith…)

omg if you havent watched it check it out, check it out, check it out!!!!!

i think i read somewhere that Miura was inspired by it in writing Berserk? but i cant say that with full confidence...

but the parallels!!! the story goes even deeper than what you said! its been almost a year since ive watched it, so my memory of it is not 100%, but ill talk about what i can remember!

(spoilers ofc)

it contains incredible artwork and its set in pre-revolution France(remind you of another manga berserk was inspired by?) and it talks about a beautiful woman- The Most Beautiful Woman Alive!!!- who has just gotten married to the love of her life! but the marriage can only be made legal by the king/ the baron of the lands(an aristocrat of sorts i dont recall properly) who immediately as he sees her, takes her and rapes her. what should have been the happiest night of her life spent with her lover, is spent being defiled, helpless as she is to fight her fate; a poor powerless woman against the all powerful aristocrat. she becomes someone else; traumatised and desperate and her husband cannot look at her the same anymore. but amid all the grief regarding what was taken from her and how she was changed, arises a new emotion: rage. she wants power. she wants vengance. for every petal of hers that was wilted, she wants to birth a new thorn.

now if you're trying to draw parallels, ig this can be a perfect parallel with griffith getting tortured by the king. the helplessness and the toll of it all. the way how it affects his decision-making in the series.

but now as our beautiful woman is stuck in her bottomless desparate anguish, a new character appears before her: a small evil spectre! he looks her straight in the eyes and says. i am you. and you are me. give everything you have to me and i will grant you what you wish for: a chance to make things even. she is poor, she has nothing to give. so the spectre takes her body. defiles her the same way. and she is granted success. she is granted money. her husband and her reap the benefits of her new powers. now the aristocrat is feeling threatened by her status, tries to appease her-offers her lands and riches beyond a simple commoners imagination. but she, unbothered, responds:"money? lands? im not interested in something as small as that, beacuse im going to take over the world." appalled by her ambition, the aristocrat orders she be exiled as a witch, never to return. this whole time the spectre just grows bigger and bigger. stronger and stronger. the more she hates and gains and succeeds, the louder it roars. the more angry and resentful she becomes, the hungrier it grows. its goal: to break her strong spirit piece by piece, little by little. and when she is exiled and thoroughly broken, it reveals himself: he is actually the devil. he asks: what do you crave? he knows what she wants: power. she asks him to make her into a devil, into a wicked, ugly, wrathful woman who will strike fear into the hearts of anybody who crosses her. she doesnt want to be desirable anymore. her beauty was her cage, her curse. and thats what the specter does. transforms her into an all powerful demon.

but as she aweakens from the transformation, she notices that she has become lovlier, more desirable than she ever was before, an otherworldly, overwhelming type of beauty. she anguishes over this. asks for explanations. she wanted to be terrible, scary and full of rage and anger. to this, the devil responds: "who says that anger and rage cannot be beautiful?"

in berserk, this could be a parallel with the godhand offering griffith his option to sacrifice at his lowest point, and griffith's transformation into a devil -femto- and later into an otherworldly beauty - neo-griffith. there is nothing lovely or lovable left in him anymore, but he is the most lovely and beloved character by everyone in the show after his neo-griffith transformation. his power knows no equal and he strikes fear into the hearts of all who dare cross him. nothing will ever touch him again and nothing will ever be taken from him again, unless he wills it.

so she lives in exile, her otherworldly powers making her a diety of sorts, one people love and worship. one day, her husband, mad at himself and sick with love for her, goes to her to ask for her forgiveness. he couldn't save her when she needed him, and he couldn't protect her when she was taken from him, so all he does is ask for forgiveness. and amid her power-hungry, hatered spinning days of rage, she blooms with love for him, everything else thrown aside or forgotten. he was all she had ever wanted once after all. they fall into each other, one last time before tragedy strikes.

the aristocrat, terrified of her, her power, the support people gave her, orders for her to be burned at the stake. as the flames overwhelm her and she cries out one last time, the people witnessing the scene, cry out in uproar. they kill the king, avenge her and become a lingering flame in the calamitous fire of the french revolution. even though she is no longer there, she achieves exactly what she wanted- vengence against those who wronged her, and world domination, as the uproar from her tragedy, is what kickstarts the world to change.

now the whole parallels with griffith i made clear in italics, but there i dont think that thet is where the parallels with berserk end. there is another character, whose case could be argued, might have been inspired by this movie: casca. the unfortunate fate of the woman, the defilement and heartbreak she experiences because of conditions she cannot control, her story is drowning in them. i believe, if Miura was indeed inspired by this movie, that casca's story takes root in this unfortunate fate this character suffers through, but the only element present in casca's story is the heartbreak and pain, the rage and vengeance part is yet to be seen.

this movie seems to overlap both of these characters journeys, emotions and characterisations. if i have made a post about their alikeness before, this movie would be the main thesis for it. they switch roles and imagery within this "belladonna" character to the point where you cant make a case for one without mentioning the other. he becomes a demon, she becomes a witch. he falls in desperation, she falls into her lover's arms. he takes over the world, she gets burned at the stake. he gets the purpose, she gets the tragedy.

overall, berserk or not, belladonna of sadness is a beautiful story and 100% worth the watch. it contains some of my favourite lines of dialogue and scenes ive ever seen in animated media. its experimental and different, but man, isnt it captivating. WATCH IT!!!

#belladonna of sadness #is a story about the role of women in the french revolution. they were the first ones to rise to the occasion. this movie is an ode to that #kanashimi no belladonna #berserk #griffith #casca #sorry for the rant #if you dont want spoilers dont read after the (spoilers) part #my posts #berserk meta

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nicegaai · 4 months ago

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im attempting my fic reread today. im announcing this bc i will be liveblogging to keep my morale up, NOT THAT anyone cares but i personally need this, like ill only commit to do the thing if theres an imaginary audience holding me accountable. & i like to have fun :3

anyway. captains log, its a beautiful sunny july weekend. i just finished my morning coffee, and, i am dreading this so much. i dont like rereading my own writing but i shall get over it. ok here we go.

Þetta Reddast vagueblogged directors commentary edition

Ch 1:

*opens fic and starts convulsing immediately* god i wish i smoked weed rn. i cannot chill out ever for the life of me

My Mission For Today Is: to remember what plot threads I’ve left hanging so I can resolve this story properly. And also try n remember where the flow is going. I have the end plotted out, I just am a little lost … it’s been a while :-(

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

Abrupt beginning!!!! I’m not mad because I have . I HAD. Almost no writing experience when I started this. it isn’t ideal but I refuse to be one of those fanfic writers that starts rewriting early chapters without finishing the last ones. Ive never seen one of those types actually finish a longfic. …I’d already rather yap than actually read LMAO AHH

Oh this is worse than I remember. thats cool that s great ok alright *coughs up blood*

"20 somethings" WOW I really did not know where I was going with this when I started huh

LKJSDLKSJDLGKGDJSLDGJK ??? Who authorized this. Who let me cook. What the hell

I could write this better now. I could edit this into something beautiful. <- devil on my shoulder

FORGOT I WAS MAKING RICE BRB

"generously offered nothing to the exchange." wait STOPPPP. I’m so funny

GRAMMAR ERROR DETECTED why is there two periods. I’ll be coming back to fix that …………………. :-(((

Fuck. This is a lot. Marge Simpson Hiding Her Face dot Png

Oh this is stupid this is gayyy this is fukcinnn . Who fucking did t his. What was wrong with me,. This is so good actually. what was i ONNNN.

Im gonna throw up and I don’t know if thats like/. A complimentary thing or if im just cringing that hard . Im feeling emotions. I love my OTPs..OT3~5? I love them so so much

Ok as much as im like “eww bad writing” this is .. dare I say, rly good in places. Not to suck my own dick but maybe all hope isnt lost and imposter syndrome is an illusion

Grammar mistake #2. Goddddddd. they should ban me from the archive for this

EMILLLLL EMIL EMIL EMIL HIIIIII BABYYYY EMILLL I LOVE UUUU AWWHUUGHH everyone clap for my bewoved baby bruvver right FUCKING now

Urghhh gritting my teeth… Im fully expecting the flow of events to start not making any gd sense. There’s no way this came together the way I hoped in my head and .... For real I was never able to read this all the way thru. this is my first time, lol. and it was all disjointed on the authorial end to say the least. Im scared T-T

Jlxjvklsdkjfsjlkdkjlsjklkljzsdkjlgaskljdgjklasljkgdljkasljkdgjklasjlkdgljkaskljdgjakl??????????

Im not liking the ratio of dialogue to whatever the other stuff is. scene-setting I guess. prose maybe. i could have dragged this out way longer... By which I mean made it a more satisfying read. But WHATEVER !!!!

TIMO !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! TIMOOOOOOOOOO NUMERO UNOOOO DO MUNDOOOOOO I really need to utilize him more. As soon as I finish this fic I need to write a Timo POV spinoff where he gets cancelled on furry twitter for proshipping in real life

Hmmmm chapter ending didn’t hit as hard in practice as it did in drafts. Oh well. God damn that was a lot to happen in one chapter LMAOO???

OH SHIT MY RICE IS STILL COOKING ——

#first and foremost tumblr is for diary posting. even on fandom sideblogs. TO ME #p

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a-court-of-moonlight-and-ire · 7 months ago

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Hey so. its been a while. I havent had a lot of energy these past few weeks and when I did I didnt really wanna spend that energy on this bad book series, but its the weekend and its been wayyyy too long and I need to finish ACOMAF before shit starts falling out of my sieve of a brain. As always, I am motivating myself with the prospect of contuining to work on a proshot of the takarazuka production elisabeth after this, the 2014 flower troupe one specifically ^-^ or maybe I'll watch a fucked up black and white movie from the 20s thats two and a half hours long, we'll see

Today we're reading chapter 53, the precursor to The most infamous chapter 54. Im not gonna lie, I kinda forgot most of what happened last time. There was a mate reveal, Rhysand was being really pathetic which made him hot to me for the first time in about 600 pages of me knowing him, Feyre was super pissed so they sent her to the mountain cabin to cool off a bit and paint, i think thats it

is it just me or is it kinda weird that Feyre is fantasizing about green grass and flowers and flowing rivers when the NC so far has been defined by being a very wintery place. Like yeah, obviously they have seasons in the solar courts but like, theres a lot of mountains which means a lot of snow, its the most nothern court etc

And Feyre didnt like winter in the first book because she associated it with bad times at the cabin so that makes sense but idk. I feel like if youre retconning her so much already you could easily wrie something about how she actually likes winter now that she has the power to withstand it or something but no, sure, have her fantasize about very spring-y weather in the book where the spring court gets demonized to hell and back why not

'[Rhysand] would give me the money for my shop, for what I was offering would cost nothing. Maybe I would sell my paintings to pay him back the money. Because I wanted to do that under any corcumstance, soulmates or not.' I was gonna write something snarky about Feyre in ACOSF but then it hit me that shes never going to have financial independance from Rhysand ever again and now Im just sad and anxious for her

(sry, im too lazy to translate this whole paragraph rn) '[Rhysand and I would do a bunch of fun stuff that couples do.] Never again someones slave or whore.' Its so wild to me that shes saying all this about the guy who made her his slave and whore MULTIPLE TIMES AT THIS POINT. like hey sarah, do you think your readers dont remember all that? do you think constantly calling back to it will make them forget somehow

Ive seen some people describe this book as gaslighting and honestly, its not even that its just lying. this story is just a bunch of lies that keep contradicting or otherwise disturbing eachother because the person telling it isnt even a good liar

Okayyyyy this chapter was a lot shorter than anticipated can you tell i dont plan these out at all but i dont feel like doing more than this and also while I was reading i got a really good idea for an Anastasia AU for a different fandom im in and I keep getting distracted and I wanna start working on it as soon as possible. And also, I'd like to be focused when I finally read that most infamous of chapters, thank you and good afternoon

#flames and darkness liveblog #anti acomaf #anti sjm

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thegloweringcastle · 1 year ago

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La Belle Fleur Sauvage

@elucienweekofficial Day 5: Nature

ao3

a/n: This is unlike anything I’ve ever written before. So I'm a little nervous, but very curious to hear your thoughts! Even if it hasn’t turned out as I hoped, it was certainly lots of fun to write.

It is a songfic based on La Belle Fleur Sauvage by Lord Huron, and even if you don’t read this I am begging you to still listen to the song because it is absolutely enchanting.

Happy reading and listening! <3

Word Count: ~1.9k

~~~

I. What you’re looking for won’t be found easily

It grows upon the mountain, in a sacred place

Lucien had been reared in a family that valued power; raised by a father who controlled with an iron fist, surrounded by brothers who thirsted for riches and every exotic pleasure known to humankind.

His mother, a kindhearted woman too pure for the likes of his father, was his only solace. She offered him a refuge, a quiet place to hide, to live freely and exist simply.

That was the only sacred place in his entire world; not one other honorable being could be found within miles. As a boy, he doubted he would ever find anyone as loving as his mother in the rest of his life.

II. Up beyond the clouds an ancient ground, so they say

And many men have died trekking up that way

The first time Lucien heard the legend of the woman had been at one of his fathers banquets - one of Lucien’s first attendances.

He remembered, with shocking clarity, the many horrors recounted to him by rich merchants. There were stories of every ill-fate that had befallen those who set out in search of such unearthly beauty. Some had been so jealous - of whom or what, Lucien couldn’t understand - that they threw themselves from cliffs, while others never even survived the first leg of the journey, lost to the beasts that roamed the foothills.

But while each variation had a billion different details, one thing remained the same: the woman who dwelled in the mountains was of another world, another kind; her beauty so unnatural that anyone who could keep it would live a bountiful life.

III. Once he’s gazed upon her, a man is forever changed

The bravest men return with darkened hearts and phantom pain

There was not much that happened in the village. Peddlers came and went, merchants sold their goods and expanded their mansions, beggars crowded the street corners, and young men set off to intrude upon what did not want to be found.

Lucien was never one to believe the stories that circulated. Everyone had their own version of the legend, but as he matured he realized it was all nothing but the wishful thinking of those who craved what they would never deserve and could never obtain.

But his mindset changed when the O’Donoughy brothers left and swiftly returned, ice cold in the dead of summer, their eyes distant and watery. What they had seen, nobody knew; but everyone had suspected. As Lucien grew into a young man, more and more of the people he had known as boys set out mountain-bound. The O’Donoughy twins had returned aged beyond their years in those few days, while others - the ones never seen again - were said to have simply sat there, watching and waiting until they rotted to nothing, some force spending their lifespans tenfold.

Lucien always prided himself in being level headed and respectful, and he had every intention of leaving well enough alone no matter what legends were wrong or right. Honestly, he did.

Until the truth of his paternity came out, and they were forced to run.

He may have been able to help save his mother, but his life had been left in rubble, the knowledge that his mom was safe and happy the only salvageable debris.

IV. Her colors change to mark the passing of the days

No earthly sight can match the beauty she displays

Exiled now by his half-family, Lucien was left to seek out a new home; somewhere he could start fresh. But that meant risking trespassing on the one place he had always sworn not to intrude. A new, better life could only be found over the mountains, through the same pass that hosted so many legends and tales.

Evergreen trees towered above Lucien, toying with the golden sunlight and disorienting all sense of direction. As he wandered, following meek flower paths and worn animal trails, morning light took on the telltale orange hue of afternoon. Yet, even as time passed and the light changed above him, the sun never actually moved. Birdsong grew distant and rare as he gained elevation, the odd silence chilling him to his very marrow.

The woods grew so dense that the forest floor never saw daylight, and Lucien could barely squeeze between each tree as he forged ahead. He knew he should have taken it as a warning, but he had no other options.

V. I've meant to find the place where all good things begin

To smell her scent and watch her dancing in the wind

Finally, finally, the forest opened up to a meadow of rustling wildflowers and billowing grass and-

He did a double take. Triple take. He pinched himself.

It was real.

There she was, flesh and blood - maybe - and swaying through the tall grass; she looked like she was dancing. Rosy cheeks, gleaming honey-brown hair, and big doe eyes. She flowed with the wind as if it were a song made just for her. She understood the whisper of the grass and the humming of the bees as well as her own heartbeat. She flowed so smoothly as if she herself were part of the wind; a bird guiding the breeze across the dramatic hills.

And Lucien couldn’t fathom it; so many things, he simply couldn’t wrap his mind around. How could such beauty still exist? Why would anyone want to interfere with it? It was perfect just the way it was; humans didn’t deserve this. They simply weren’t good enough.

In circles she spun, dipping low to pick a flower before turning to brush one slender hand through a bundle of cattails. Lucien simply watched her, wholly enraptured by her supple movements. He didn’t even think about it when he stepped forward, wanting to keep watching her as she began to move away.

He saw her, she saw him, and the world froze. The breeze dissipated, the whispering grass held its breath, the dancing flowers paused.

Predator and prey held eye contact, stuck between cycles. Something glinted, the hollowness akin to fear. But he could have been wrong; he was on the edge of the clearing, after all.

She took one, timid step towards him. He took one, timid step back.

“Who are you?” Her voice, lush and gentle, rang louder than it should have. Wholly unnatural.

His throat was dry. “My name is Lucien Va- Lucien. I hail from the village to the east.” He paused, continuing when she didn’t speak. “I wish to use your alpine pass to continue west, with your blessing.”

Lucien’s heart constricted as she approached, her radiance even more devastating up close. But now he saw - proof. She wasn’t human. Pointed ears, wide eyes, long, slender fingers.

“Why should I believe you?” The sound of her voice would be the death of him. “Why would I offer you safe passage, when that is what everyone else has asked for? It has never turned out to be the truth.”

So neither were predators; both had been prey at some point in time. Lucien wanted to see to it that it would never again be the case.

“Lady…” He went down to one knee, looking up at her figure haloed by the sun.

Her brow quirked up as she hesitated. “Elain.”

“My Lady Elain,” It came out as a benediction. “I don’t know what proof I could present to you, but I swear to leave you be. I merely hope to pass through and allow you to enjoy your space.” Even if he didn’t want to leave.

She leaned in, evaluating him just as he did her. He caught her scent - honey and berries. Sweet and addicting.

“There is a flower,” She started. “It grows farther than most can travel, higher than many wish to go. But I’ve heard its beauty is unlike anything else, and I wish to see it. Help it flourish here,” She gestured to the clearing. “With the others. If you can find it for me and bring it back with roots intact, I will allow you onwards.”

She did not wait for a response before turning smoothly, her cotton dress rippling with the motion. Lucien waited another heartbeat before standing, struggling to process what had happened, what he had seen.

He began his quest.

It could have been days that he searched, or months. The sun never moved, only disappearing suddenly to leave room for night. Time moved strangely in the woods; one day it was mild, spring weather, and the next it was crisp autumn, with auburn leaves raining down. Once it snowed, but then it was blazing hot.

The entire time, Lucien searched. He thought long and hard, he went at it ruthlessly, he went over the same places dozens of times. But he never gave up. Because as he searched, something blossomed in his chest. Something warm and soft and right. He didn’t aim to find the flower just to move on; he wanted to please her, to give her a reason to smile. The thought of it made his heart yearn.

So he stayed resolute, fending off the beasts in the woods and pursuing any hint of unique greenery that could possibly match what she wanted.

But nothing he found would ever be enough, would never be as beautiful as her.

VI. I'd give it all to love that girl, oh

I'd be the one to pluck that fleur, oh

Lucien found his way back to the clearing, hoping to any higher power that she would be there again.

And sure enough, there she was, this time lying in the tall green grass and basking in the sun.

“My Lady Elain,” He called.

She stood slowly, brushing herself off as she moved towards him. “Lucien of the East.” A faint smile graced her face. “Have you found the flower?”

He returned the smile in kind with an added bit of mischief. “Indeed, I have.”

Her chin tilted, her eyes squinting.

“Where is it, then?”

“My lady, I am afraid you sent me on a snipe hunt.”

“Oh?”

“You asked for a flower whose beauty was unlike anything else. You wanted to help it thrive here,” He stepped forward, bolder now. “But I realized something.”

“Tell me, what did you realize?”

Now they both moved in, meeting each other halfway.

“I was meant to find you.”

Her eyes sparked, a bright boundless smile overtaking her features. It nearly brought Lucien to his knees. She tucked her slender, ivory hand into his broad, tan one. With a shared smile, she guided them through the meadow towards the small cottage hiding on the edge.

Lucien decided he had no reason to go over the pass; everything he could ever need was right there in that sacred place.

VII. And when I die, I want her lying by my side, in my grave

I'd give it all to love that girl, oh

~~~

Another big thanks to @elucienweekofficial moderators for their dedication! <3

#was originally meant to be for day 2 (magic)#but work got in the way #and we're late today because doggy cuddles are top priority #elucien #elucienweek2023 #elucien fanfiction #elain archeron #lucien #songfic #lord huron #prompt: nature

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yahoodarling · 2 years ago

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Hey how are you?

I found your blog from the sibling ps killing siblings thing, and what would happen in diluc s one if he didn’t truely kill kaeya and he was hanging on by a thread and reader found him and healed his wounds and was there for him through out the whole recovery, how would diluc t react later (I know you wrote reader as the creator but in this case they are not)

If you don’t want to write about this or don’ find inspiration in this request feel free to delete it!

Hope you stay safe and healthy thank you!

Awww honey, you're too sweet. Funny enough in Dilucs it is suggested Kaeya is still alive. "Shallow breaths", "left for the elements'', in that the reader asks Diluc to not kill Kaeya incase they can convince him to join, much like in Jeans at a person's moment of death/great suffering readers voice will guide them so perhaps Kaeya would listen and so be brought back and spared ohhh but your ask is interesting! Just how would Diluc react if Kaeya came back???

(Reader is not the creator, this is a small side story to the sagau answers)

In the pelting rain you hurried for shelter, through the dense woods after foraging, nuts, berries, seeds were what you found yet a bloodied blue haired man was not expected on the list. Immediately you kneel down next to him, shaking him and calling out if he was alright, only the subtle rise and fall of his chest indicated any life and so you took that as a sign and lifted him onto your shoulder, leaving your basket and focusing on dragging him to shelter.

This was Captain Kaeya of the Knights of Favonius, you had seen him on patrols and in visits to the central city of Mondstadt. The only thing you could do was patch him up and wait, it took a few days but eventually he was back up, eyes dull and the look of confusion evident on his face. He seemed lost, hurt and in a mess, refused to go back to Mondstadt and asked kindly that you not notify the Knights of his condition.

"I appreciate what you have done for me," he says breaking his usual silence "you found me at quiet the strained time." He took a breath and looked up to your thatched roof, hair a mess and face drained, "It feels like ive just relived a nightmare i wish to forget and now offered a choice that could determine my entire life. Is it right? Should i heed the call?" He was a mess, basically talking to himself and constantly on the brink of tears but in time he healed and your relationship grew as you stayed by his side.

In a few weeks Mondstadt wrote Kaeya off as missing, he chose to stay with you in the small house in the forests away from his duties so he had time to organize his thoughts and emotions but eventually he felt it was right to return, he couldnt leave his responsibilities forever.

"Would you join me?" Kaeya asks, hesitantly smiling as he adjusted his boots. "It feels like im about to walk up on stage without a script haha"

Of course you joined him and really luckily you had.

Along the roads near Springvale you two met the wine tycoon of Mondstadt also on his way to the city, both Kaeya and Diluc had a look of death ridden on their face, eyes wide open in shock. Kaeya took a hesitant step forward, a million questions on his mind, Diluc just recoiled back readjusting himself to calm.

"So you listened?" Diluc said with a gruff voice "Youve decided to follow their grace?"

"No, i havent chosen yet, there has been a lot on my mind." The air grew stiff and stale

"Mondstadt thinks you are dead, i thought you were dead. Ive betrayed my lord, if you are still alive and its not because you accepted them then its my fault for not doing my job right. I must atone for forgiveness."

"Diluc wait! Tell me, what does your heart say? Truly"

You couldnt see the red head mans face, it fell hidden in his hair as he tried to conceal his cries. "Its full of love, so much burning love you would not understand if you dont stand before them. Its like nothing else ive ever felt, however, ive nearly lost you once, to be faced with your lose again… scared me. Kaeya please, listen to me, i will chose to follow them over and over again even if it means ending you, you will understand! Just please, consider it."

You felt out of place, Kaeya told you about what happened, of Diluc choosing to follow the newly proclaimed Grace of Teyvat, of Kaeyas injury and inability to choose which path to take. You had no real choice either, just wanting to sustain a normal life.

"Ill let you think about it" Diluc huffed and turned his back. "I hope we may be joined under one rule again." And walked away.

Kaeya went quiet, watching as Diluc walked away. "Haaaah," he sighed and combed his hair away "my word is this a mess, gosh it hurts haha" he chuckled, you have come to notice he enjoys hiding his pain with humor.

"I don't know, i still haven't chosen who to follow and to see Diluc again… it hurts. Ive come back from near death once, i can do it again." He perked himself back up and outstretched his hand to you. "Would you mind taking a dead mans hand? I feel at this moment the only place i can certainly say I belong is by your side for all you have done for me."

●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●

Thank you for the love! Kept this kinda short, Kaeyas status will stay unknown in the cannon line of this sagau 'series' but i do love the suggestion! Kept this short haha

Link to original

#yahooworks #genshin kaeya #genshin diluc #dark content #genshin sagau #x male reader #x gn reader #x female reader #genshin x male reader #genshin x gn reader #genshin x female reader

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fcknstar · 2 years ago

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,, what i need to do "

harryosborn x gen!reader

a.n : uhhh uhhhh uhh idk how to feel abt this lmaooo

warnings : idk how to uhh specify, jealousy

**lowercase intended**

looking at photographs of you thats pasted around his dorm room, harry couldnt help but sigh. hed broken up with you just due to long distance and couldn't bear knowing how youd stay up late at night to call him, how worried youd be if he doesnt reply on time ; not that you needed him to reply straight away, but at least needed answer within a day or so so youd know hes safe. harry didnt want to carry the burden of making you facing such conditions just for him. this led him to make choices he wished didnt force him.

after breaking up, there was a mutual agreement between you two that it was fine if either of you started talking to someone else, or even start dating. harry swore that his heart wont start swelling at the thought of you at someones side. you looking at another guy the way you used to. the kind of dress you wore for him. whether hes holding onto you so tight.

so, why did it hurt and stun harry after watching your recent instagram story thats filled with pictures of you and another guy. surely you two were just friends, he reassured himself. he had to wait just a few more months to be out of this hellhole and see you, even if it meant as friends.

harry wouldn't admit it ever, but he was sure he was getting obsessed with the idea of you loving him all over again, tryinv his best to relive the moments you shared with him. and he wanted it, even if it meant hurting you and the people around you. he had wrapped his heart around you so tight like an elastic band that if he tried to let go, it would be difficult for him to embed his soul to one like how he had previously embedded his soul into yours.

after finally reaching new york, he realized how there was a new superhero in town who goes by the name of ‘ spiderman ‘ and god oh god does he give people hope. he wished spiderman was there to give him the same hope he gave others. he hoped and prayed to the stars that you and that guy had nothing serious. he really didnt want to but it was as if his heart pulled him, and his legs led him back to your apartment, it being a regular thing where hed come over with a snack, a drink or even a meal to make sure you werent starving.

lifting his fist and landing it on your door, you opened the door not even a second after he had knocked once.

“ oh god- harry? oh my god! “ you looked even more pretty in person, you had really nice layers which shaped your face well, you had a more elegant style then you had the last time he saw you. jumping into his arms, he caught you like a feather.

“ oh god ive missed you- so so much! why didnt you tell me that you were coming back? “ you whispered. its been such a long time youve seen harry. by the looks of it, he had ditched that gel and let his hair roam free. his hair wasnt totally parted by the side, probably in between side and middle parting. he looks the same with sharper features which suited him. it was as if you were looking at an old picture of him.

“ hi (name). ive missed you too. sorry i came here unannounced-”

“ (name) ? who is this? “ a curious voice broke the comfortable yet needed silence that had to sail the boat gently. it was the same guy he saw on your story.

releasing you from his grasp, harry stood at the side as he felt like an intruder.

“ oh theo, this is the guy live been telling you about, harry. “ you offered a smile, walking up towards him while bringing harry to theo.

you told theo about harry? was it good things that shaped the guy he was, like how he was rich and was the son of a ceo who owned a big company, how he was arrogant but liked to spend money like water on whoever? or was it bad things that left you up at night crying, like how hed left you and broke up with you with a pathetic excuse.

" nice to meet you harry! " theo offered a hand to harry and harry accepted out of unwillingness.

harry became bitter instantly but forced a tight smile which you easily recognized. your smile dropping as soon as you realized what was happening.

" you too. i should get going, dont want to.. uh interrupt you guys. " harry was about to walk away when theo suggested that-

" harry can join us for lunch, right (name)? " you didnt want to make it seem like you hated harry all of the sudden but agreed. you knew how harry would act around new guys you met and didnt want it to repeat because you thought that had something good that you ware able to keep for a while.

harry looked pleased with your answer and followed you and theo to the cafe down the block. you and harry caught up with theo who seemed like he was enjoying the interaction you both had. theo was there when harry broke up with you and comforted you throughout, while not picking sides because he knew better. and you loved theo for that. although you still had feelings for harry the same way he still had feelings for you, you didnt want to ruin the spark you felt with theo. you saw harry in theo but less of a rich city boy. theo was hardworking due to growing in a poor family but persevereed until he found himself at a well paying job that allowed him to treat you whenever without forgetting to send money to his very own family. harry on the other hand was hardworking despite growing up in a rich family and was able to have everything he wanted. but having no one to be around for him or even get him gifts he found interests in, he would spend his money spending time with you and even buy you gifts hed know youd definitely like. you just didnt know who to choose, the two boys had great qualities but would be unfair to theo considering he may start seeing you as someone who values money more than love even though you pushed theos offers of getting you something.

" ill go pay first, you two talk or something. " you sighed contently after eating you desert.

both boys nodding at your instruction.

" so.. (name).. you like her? " harry smiled welcomingly, his calm expression masking his jealousy.

" you like her dont you? " a tinge of jealousy breaking through his question and his eyebrow rose.

" woah no i dont, i have well moved on, theo. i was just asking because im curious. besides you two look like a good pair dont you think? " harry laughed while turning around to have a glance at you, where you waited patiently to get in the front of the line.

" i don't know.. i dont want it to be a one person thing you know? im afraid that she cant let go of the past or something. " theo sent a sad smile. harry took it to his advantage.

" well, she is hot. not only that but shes like the definition of heaven on earth, shes kind and sweet. we compliment each other and it was really thoughtful that you were here for her when i werent. youve done.. a good job. but i can do better. "

theo was speechless, he didnt know what to think and had his mouth apart slightly. his eyes darkening before smiling innocently.

when you came back, you noticed theo frozen in his thoughts, trapped in his own world.

" theo, you alright? " you were going to place a hand on his shoulder to shake him but harrys voice stopped you, his eyes focused on you hand which neared theos shoulder.

" hes alright. we were just talking and he remembered that he needed to meet him mother urgently, but he didnt know how to break the news to you. " harry pouted, eyes glaring at theo.

" oh right yea- "

" what? i thought you said that today was the only free day you had? and that your mom was going to your grandmas? " your shoulders slumped.

" yea but my mom needs me and you know i cant deny her. ill make it up to you! " theos last statement made harry snap his neck towards him. it was obvious that harry was starting to get angry, but tried to calm himself down when he tried to conclude theos next move.

theo then scrambled to find his wallet, pulling a couple of bucks to repay you. before you could even answer, theo dashed out of the cafe leaving you and harry alone. alone at last.

#imagines #oneshots #dane dehaan #harry osborn x reader #tasm!harry osborn #tasm!harry osborn x reader #valerian and the city of a thousand planets #valerianxreader #valerian #dane dehaan imagine

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warlock-enthusiast · 1 year ago

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"Do you even know what this means?”

Prompt number: 4 Fanfiction Fandom: Diablo IV Rating: PG Characters: Lorath Nahr, The Wanderer (female Sorceress), Neyrelle, Donan Warnings: non apply

"Do you even know what this means?” His eyes are feverish and his skin flushed. We’ve spent the last hours in almost complete silence. So quiet that both Donan and Neyrelle left to do something more interesting than studying scripts that they’ve read over and over again without finding anything worthwhile. I can’t blame them. Puzzling over the same words, for days at a time will not save a single soul, but Lorath is sure that he’ll find a key in there. I stumbled upon the journals of a scholar that lived during the sin war. Back when demons and angels fought for the souls of us mortals. Have they ever stopped? We seem to be trapped in this endless cycle of being nothing more than pawns to someone bigger and stronger.

I look up from my script, blots of ink covering the tips of my fingers, and find Lorath looking at me.

“That we might stand a chance after all.” I answer, knowing that it is the one he is looking for.

He offers me one of his rare smiles and my stomach flutters. “Yes… yes. Exactly that.”

Lorath is more alive, more himself, now that he has a goal and allies that help him fight against Lilith’s influence. No more nights drinking his sorrows away and waking up in his own bile, but helping Neyrelle understand the teaching of the Horadrim and sharing old stories with Donan. It touches me to see him like this, but I can’t ignore the darkness that still hides in his eyes.

A broken man is not easily mended, but we are all doing our best.

My back cracks while I stand up and start to stretch my hurting limbs. I put my hands on my hips and move around a little. “We should take a break. I feel as if I haven’t seen the sun in a few days.”

“To be fair, we haven’t.” Time doesn’t seem to matter in this vault and there are always more books to read before I go outside and fight against the forces of Lilith. It’s nice to not smell of blood and gore or to stand in the ruins of human settlements for once.

“Let’s find some food and maybe catch a ray of sunshine then.” And we do follow our plan. I grab some items from the kitchens while Lorath finds our companions. Thankfully it’s not raining, but there is a chill to the air, which makes me wrap my cloak tighter around myself. There is tea that warms me from the inside and Lorath is close enough to feel his knee brushing against mine.

I try not to think too much about us being close and instead focus on the bread and dried meats. There is cheese to go with it and some fruits that Donan brought from his home.

“Surprised you didn’t end up as a pile of ash.” Neyrelle points towards the sky and a very bright sun that is stinging in my eyes.

“Hey now, I’ve been known to be outside at times. It’s not all about caves and grimy dungeons.”

“Sometimes it is about old, dusty Horadrim vaults as well,” Lorath adds and has the nerve to chuckle.

I’m so very tempted to poke out my tongue, but settle for a more relaxed raised eyebrow. “Better company there.”

“Debatable.” I look towards Donan, who is calmly cutting some cheese and is not even looking up.

His single word makes all of us erupt in laughter and for a few seconds I know that we’ll survive all of this.

#diablo 4 #diablo IV #lorath nahr #sorsasta #neyrelle #donan #ah some sudden fluffy feelings #lorath #fictober23

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saltielena · 2 years ago

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serious spoilers for jrwi bitb, riptide, pd, and apotheosis

as ive been watching apotheosis, ive really come to love jrwi as a whole. and rumi talking a lot about how many lives hes lived, how many they may live after, gets me thinking.

i know its not an uncommon headcanon for rumi to have lived as all of grizzly's jrwi player characters. i may not have yet seen convergence or the fated, and i havent fully completed any of the oneshots available, but i definitely see this.

so, rumi has lived the lives of many. they have many names, their soul everchanging.

rumi once would be a child tormented by loss after loss, wishing again only for peace to those he loves. maybe he'd find love again, maybe he'd lose his faith in it. maybe he'd fear it.

rumi would be a rockstar, living that lavish life he knew would always be his, dying for a cause, for loved ones he'd never dream of leaving behind. he'd always know the weakness of his soul -- his own sense of love.

rumi could even find themselves as a divine entity once more, that of a trickster who could grant someone's deepest desire. even then, would he see love? maybe he's bitter. maybe he's just now lost peter.

but it's not like rumi's soul would be the only one to find itself in another life.

maybe peter would find himself as just another scared kid. maybe this time, he wouldn't just want peace. he'd want to live. he'd maybe hope -- no, dream of finding rumi once more. and when he did, he just didn't want to lose that again.

then, maybe, he'd try to be what could have saved them all. maybe he could live in another lifetime as a strong paladin, protecting those he loved and -- oh, there it is again: destiny. purpose. maybe he'd fall down the same path as thanatos.

and maybe, just maybe, he'd find rumi in one more life. maybe he could, again, love him to his very end. and maybe even hate himself for being what kills them both.

and thanatos, too, would find his story did not end with slaying gods.

maybe he'd live as yet another being created as a weapon, an artificial man who would still love the world and those around him. yet again, he'd watch as those around him taught him more about love and life than he could ever offer knowledge in war.

could he, then, live as a more mellow man, laidback and mirroring that which he learned from rumi as he saves someone he sees himself in from a path which would lead to nothing more than pain maybe he'd learn more about himself, then, aswell.

and then, he could just get tired. he could wait for his soul to finally burn out. he'd get angry. paranoid. would he not wish for it all to just be over? numb the pain, end up just losing again. watching those he loves torn from him again. that happy ending he never wished for, ambiguous.

and along the way, they could cross paths with yet another soul who just wants peace.

a soul with many lives; one who lived as a pushover lawyer that overcame endless terror; one who lived as a pirate sick of her old life, choosing her path for herself; one who, despite losing his home, wanted nothing more than the love of those surrounding him now.

and maybe, just maybe, in a perfect world, another lifetime -- they'd all be at peace, together, recalling times of both love and loss, companionship and war, and all-around joy.

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winderlylandchime · 1 year ago

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Hello!! I love how we are all hoping that Jordan brings back the podcast, i need those two besties back so badly. I feel like they have so much stuff they could talk about especially now with the strikes, it’d be fun to hear their take on it. I am honestly not ready for him to find out how the filming and the aftermath of the show was on Gale and Randy. I know he’s gonna lose his shit to find out how some people were towards them (especially since his idea of Gale in his head is obviously different and in his mind Gale and Randy are bffs like how he is with his friends.) but also i think he will be shocked to find out they both kind of stepped back from the show and had certain issues with it. He did storm in my room randomly today and went ‘IS THAT WHY THERE WAS LESS SEX STUFF?!’ Which btw it was 10 am when he did that, I barely knew i was awake. Basically he was up almost all night thinking about the finale and the podcast (he is once again that conspiracy meme) and he realized in later seasons there’s less sex scenes and now he is distraught that maybe it’s because Randy was uncomfortable. He was having an entire crisis over it. While I don’t know what all i will show him/what he’ll see on his own (i wanna show him bts content and like obviously anything else i can find) but i will be keeping con videos/posts FAR away from him because some of those are the worst things ive ever seen in my life, no offense to anyone. I will say, If you or anyone has any ideas what else I should show him, let me know because he has been losing his mind begging me to let him listen to more of the podcast.

As for our mom, i swear that woman is actually pretty chaotic herself but unlike my brother she hides it better. Both of our parents are insane but for some reason only he doesn’t even make an effort to hide it. She did get a long email sent to her by my brother because she was ignoring his calls and he wanted to talk about s4 finale. It was titled ‘IMPORTANT! NOTHING TO DO WITH THE SHOW’ and then it was almost a short novel about the show.. He wanted to hear her thoughts since he is still undecided about Justin not saying yes to moving in. And he wrote a little bit about the podcast and he also asked her if she thinks Randy would like him if they met (clearly he is feeling a certain way about this) which caused a different crisis, a much bigger one: would Gale like him if they met. That crisis lasted almost 2 hours btw. Anyway as a reply to the email she just forwarded it to our dad who forwarded it back to me to tell me to ‘change the wifi password.’ And then I immediately got a call from my mom about the podcast asking me if it’s about the show and how he already has enough weird hobbies and why can’t I get him into something normal like a pottery group or painting group or something with normal people around. And then I heard in the background our uncle who went ‘after all the stories about him talking to DOCTORS, you want to unleash him on a person who is not medically trained?’ So he is now being encouraged to stay home and watch tv. Also: he is currently talking to his best friend about the finale, while writing down mind maps and lists of what he thinks season 5 will be. He’s having a bit of issues with it because the LA offer apparently fucked quite a lot of things up for him so his original list no longer makes sense. He is also talking to him at the same time (he’s jumping from topic to topic) about Gale and how shocked he was that Randy didn’t enjoy the qaf fame. I don’t know how this became my life. More importantly I would just like to say: i cannot wait for your new fic! I mean your last fic got us here so I can’t wait to see what happens next. But also bearded Brian>>

The podcast talking about the strikes would be amazing! I was hoping we would get a Barbie movie episode but alas. I really want to hear the besties talk about Greta Gerwig.

I have never seen the con clips and I’m grateful. I have too much secondhand embarrassment to sit through that boundary-crossing behavior and invasive questions.

I LOVE that your parents were like “change the wifi password” and uncle was like “unleash him into the world?” and they responded “jk never mind.”

I personally think Gale and Randy are still friends but we would never know with the one proof of life per year Gale gives us and Randy being tightlipped about his time on the show.

Wait until your brother realizes that one of Randy’s partner’s is named Justin (or is that the kid? either way there’s a Justin!)

I am dreading his reaction to S5 but we all watched it so he must as well…

And, yes, bearded Brian >>>

BUT I saw your request at the top - folks let’s start to pull together a post-S5 education for all necessary BTS for Brother Anon to fully understand QAF! In box me or comment on this post.

#ask winderlylandchime #dear sweet anon #queer as folk #a straight man watches qaf us 2000 in the year of our lord 2023

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goodqueenaly · 2 years ago

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hi! love your analyses!

was tywin sleeping with/working with shae from the beginning? using her as a spy on tyrion or was the moment whrn tyrion kiled tywin the first time shae slept with him? the first time i read that section i was so confused as i didnt really get how deep/long the whole tywin/relationship was. ive seen posts that say he saw her for the first time at the trial snd decided to sleep with her then but what proof is there of that? can a longer shae/tywin conspiracy be really ruled out?

I don't see any evidence that Tywin was ever working with Shae (unless someone would consider Tywin demanding sex from Shae in the aftermath of Tyrion's trial as Tywin "working with" her, which I personally would not). After all, Cersei thinks of Shae doing this after Tyrion is condemned:

Shae, her name was Shae. They had last spoken the night before the dwarf's trial by combat, after that smiling Dornish snake offered to champion him. Shae had been asking about some jewels Tyrion had given her, and certain promises Cersei might have made, a manse in the city and a knight to marry her. The queen made it plain that the whore would have nothing of her until she told them where Sansa Stark had gone. "You were her maid. Do you expect me to believe that you knew nothing of her plans?" she had said. Shae left in tears.

If Shae had been working with Tywin for an extended period of time prior to Tyrion's downfall, why would Shae have gone to Cersei in the aftermath of that downfall - and indeed, why would Cersei remember herself promising Shae "a manse in the city and a knight to marry her"? Supposing Shae had been Tywin's agent for some time (by some reckonings of the theory, in fact, as far back as AGOT), wouldn't Shae have gone to Tywin directly to cash in, so to speak, on that agent relationship - "I did my part spying and testifying, now you give me what I want/you promised"? By contrast, the fact that Shae had "left in tears" following Cersei's refusal to make good on her own promises suggests quite clearly to me that Shae decided in that moment, and only in that moment, to approach Tywin - going above Cersei's head (and Tyrion's, in fact) to the lord of the family and all-powerful Hand, to see what he could offer when two other Lannisters in positions of royal power had failed her.

If I am going to believe a theory, then I need to see evidence for a theory; it is not enough for someone simply to say "you can't rule it out as a possibility". I see no evidence for any idea that Tywin engaged Shae as an agent at any point or that he had any direct involvement with Shae before demanding sex from her at the end of ASOS. Nothing about the stories Shae and Bronn tell suggest Tywin's involvement or indeed any great amount of mystery: Tyrion had dispatched Bronn to "find him a likely whore", and both Shae and Bronn report that she, Shae, was a camp follower engaged as a sex worker by a minor Lannister retainer before Bronn claimed her for Tyrion (with Shae even naming the man, a name that apparently provokes no comment or question from Tyrion). Further, Tywin had made clear repeatedly that he was not going to tolerate Tyrion having a "whore" at court with him: point blank saying as much during Tyrion's final AGOT chapter, violently whipping Alayaya and casting her out after the Blackwater under the belief that she was Tyrion's lover, and threatening to hang any more "whores" he caught in Tyrion's bed at the start of ASOS. If Tywin, who firmly believed he could command and control his children's lives, really wanted to use Shae as a spy (assuming there was even anything useful to glean from Shae, which I'm not , why would he continually threaten Tyrion against keeping a "whore" like Shae around - wouldn't he be taking an enormous risk that Tyrion would, you know, actually obey his father and not have the person Tywin allegedly was trying to make into his spy around to, well, be his spy?

No, I think the simplest answer here is best. Shae, out of options after Tyrion's arrest - as a young, lowborn, female sex worker who just saw her highborn benefactor condemned to death for treason and had been forced to testify against him as such - decided to go to Tywin Lannister to try to scrape together whatever she could out of this mess. Tywin, used to using sex workers to fulfill his own sexual desires, saw Tyrion's pretty mistress, presumably supplicating him to help her, knew that she had had a high level of discretion to never have given away or been given away during her time at court, and decided to use her in the same way. No long-term conspiracy, no great plot between the two - just a young woman with no one else to turn to and a man who decided she was convenient to use for sex.

#asoiaf meta #tywin lannister #shae

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imakemywings · 9 months ago

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Fandom: The Silmarillion

Relationship: Maglor/Thranduil, Maedhros/Maglor

Summary: All is not as it seems when Thranduil enters the ancestral Feanorian estate, but he fails to fully comprehend the scale and nature of the risk. If he’s very lucky, one day he might even get to leave.

Response to this kink meme prompt.

AO3 | Pillowfort | SWG

Photo credit to Zach Lezniewicz on Unsplash.

Previous chapter | Next chapter

V. Chapter IV

The weight of Maedhros’ poison continued to drag on Thranduil’s health, which took a sharp downward turn. Maglor had caught him napping in the library and there were moments at mealtimes when he seemed not to be present at all. He often slept until after nine or ten in the morning, when he had before been accustomed to rising at six or seven even when there was no work to do. (Sometimes, Maglor would poke his head into the room and sit on the edge of the bed to pet Thranduil’s hair for a few minutes while he slept. It never roused him.)

In the early afternoon not more than a few days after their encounter in Thranduil’s room, Maedhros and Thranduil chanced to return in from the yard at the same time. Hearing their footsteps, Maglor came out of his study to greet them, in time to see Thranduil slip and fall on the stairs. He insisted it was nothing to worry about, but Maglor could see he was unsteady on his feet when he rose. Later, privately, Maedhros told Maglor it was time to get out the wheelchair, and he wasn’t wrong.

Maglor told Thranduil some passable story about how the old rattan chair was left over from an old injury of Mother’s, but he could see the wariness in Thranduil’s eyes before he consented to sit in it. It might’ve been more believable if Vanimiel hadn’t scratched her fucking initials into the arm. But Thranduil didn’t ask about that. Maglor wasn’t even sure he noticed.

There was blood in Thranduil’s handkerchiefs these days.

He spent more and more time indoors, and it seemed to Maglor that he was wilting, like a sunflower in the shade (Maglor did not know much more about plants than this less-than-apt comparison. In truth, Thranduil was more like a plant which preferred shade and had been moved into a dank basement with poor drainage.) The sight of it seemed so dismal to Maglor that he could not bear it, and he offered to push Thranduil outside in the chair. He was almost surprised when Thranduil agreed.

“When you can start on the garden, you’ll feel better,” Maglor posited as he maneuvered the chair out the back door. It had not been made with wheelchairs in mind (nor had any entrance to the house, unfortunately), so Thranduil had to vacate the chair for it to be moved down onto the ground before he could sit in it again. “The fresh air will be good for you! My aunt used to say that, before we left Tirion.”

Thranduil sighed and leaned back in the chair.

“I believe it,” he said. “And I hope very much it proves true. I find myself quite weary of this affair of sickness.” Yet there was an absence of optimism in his voice that Maglor found unsettling.

He pushed the chair through the scraggly brown grass of the backside of the yard. There wasn’t much to look at, but in healthier days, Thranduil could still spend hours walking around the property.

“What is it you look at out here?” he asked. “When you go walking?”

“The sky,” said Thranduil. “The clouds. The birds.”

“Birds?” Maglor said. “I can’t say I’ve ever seen many birds around here.”

“I imagine that is because you have not looked, Maglor,” said Thranduil with amusement in his voice. “I have seen many since I came.”

Maglor smiled, and found he did not mind looking a bit foolish if it might make Thranduil laugh.

“No, I do believe I’ve never seen a single bird here,” he declared. Thranduil tilted his head back to look at Maglor, and when he saw that Maglor smiled, he returned the look.

“Your age must warrant spectacles then,” said Thranduil. Maglor sputtered and made a noise of great offense.

“It was you that wed this old man!” he said.

“It was,” Thranduil agreed, facing forward again, though one of his hands groped backwards until it found Maglor’s. Maglor gripped his hand and squeezed it, something airy fluttering in his chest. Thranduil’s wedding ring was cool against his skin. So they stayed for a moment, and then Maglor took his hand back to continue pushing the chair.

“Did you play here, as a child?” Thranduil asked.

“Oh…no. We were more or less grown when we moved here. Celebrimbor—my nephew—he played here, though.” He had been too young to go to war when they left—but he had aged into it before they came back. Few who knew him were willing to speak of how he had died, so Maglor had never been clear on the details.

“Maedhros said you had five other brothers,” said Thranduil, and Maglor could hear in his tone he knew he was edging towards something Maglor might not wish to discuss.

“That’s true. Myself and Maedhros and Celegorm and Caranthir and Curufin—that was Celebrimbor’s father—and Amrod and Amras,” said Maglor, and saying their names felt like shattering some small spell he hadn’t realize had been pulled over the house. He could not remember the last time either he or Maedhros had spoken the names of their brothers. He could not remember the last time he’d thought of them, except in passing, in concept.

“It must have been a loud house,” Thranduil remarked. “I was an only child.”

“I cannot imagine that,” Maglor admitted. “I cannot imagine a childhood not elbowing other children out of the way at the dinner table!” He went quiet a moment, lapsing into recollections he hadn’t thought of in years. “It was a loud house, I suppose,” he said softly. “Here, and in Tirion. And I hated it. I would scream at my brothers for making too much noise when I was trying to focus, and I slammed the door in their faces if they tried to speak to me of their problems, and I tried ever so hard to convince Father to pay for me to have someplace of my own.” He swallowed, finding his throat constricting. It had been a house full of life, once—he and Maedhros had never managed to recapture that, had they? “Now I suppose I’m pleased he always refused. I have more memories of this place from when we were all here together.”

He would not think now of what his brothers might think of him at that point.

“You should tell me later, when we have tools to plan,” Thranduil suggested, “where you would like to start with fixing the house.”

“Oh. Yes, of course. If I have a say,” said Maglor with a smile.

“Of course you do,” said Thranduil. “You know far better than I what it once looked like.”

“Well, I don’t believe it must be restored to exactly what it was,” Maglor said. “I may allow for some of your creative opinion.” His smile grew.

“We might go into town to look at supplies,” Thranduil suggested. “It might be well for both of us to get out of the house. We could stay the night.”

“Oh…I don’t know,” Maglor said haltingly, his expression dropping. “Maedhros gets anxious when I am away too long.”

“One night is too long?”

Maglor twisted his hands on the bars of the chair and cast his eye around for something to distract the conversation, but the landscape looked as empty as ever.

“What types of birds have you seen here?” he asked in what was transparently a desperate bid to change the subject. Thranduil did not respond, until at length he said:

“Maglor…do you ever act on your own wishes?”

“I don’t know what you mean by that,” he said, but the snippiness of his tone was undergirded with anxiety. Thranduil grasped the wheels of the chair to bring it to a halt.

“Only that you seem very keen to appease your brother,” he said. “And I wonder if sometimes it is…not the best choice for you.”

“My brother and I are a team,” said Maglor. “What’s good for him is good for me.”

“I…understand. Yet…” He was leading into some other thing that Maglor did not want to hear, so he jumped in front of it, babbling to stop Thranduil from saying anything else.

“Maedhros has always been…well, he is my protector, you see? He has always been there for me. No one knows him as I do! Even when there were others, it was always I who knew him best!” Something Maglor would have said to Fingon’s face (and probably had, though he didn’t remember it then, and Fingon had probably not been polite enough to keep from rolling his eyes). “Now we are—well, he has no one left but me. He worries a great deal for me, you see? Because he cares. And so he likes to keep me close, where he can see. It worries him when I stray too far. But it is only because he wishes to keep me safe. Maedhros loves me,” he said, which having said it, seemed a rather foolish and obvious thing to say. He gave a jittery kind of laugh, tinged with something more pointed. “It’s just that with fire is the only way my family knows how to love. You haven’t had siblings, so you can’t understand. He may be hard to understand at times, but I don’t mind, because I love him also. We are brothers. Who could understand us as we do each other? I don’t mind doing things his way, if it makes him feel better.”

Thranduil went silent in the face of this monologue.

“I see,” was all he said, at last, and Maglor’s anxiety spiraled into the absence of talk.

“You mustn’t think I never contradict him! It isn’t that way! Only that Maedhros is usually right, and I have no talent for making plans, so it’s for the best he takes care of it. I haven’t the head for it. And he’s much braver than I. Especially after everything he’s been through. I wasn’t able to—I didn’t help him when—and he hardly complains about it, you see. His hand, I mean. And he’s given me so much, you know? But he’s stayed here with me all this time, useless as I am.”

“Just as you have remained here with him,” Thranduil pointed out.

“Oh, well I…I’m sure I would have been here regardless.” Thranduil did not respond to this and Maglor fretted, biting his lip, until Thranduil pointed into the distance, to a black spot against the watery sky.

“Do you see it there?” he asked. “It looks to be an upland buzzard.”

“Oh! How can you tell?”

“They are endemic to the region,” said Thranduil. “And if you observe how it moves, and the shape of the tailfeathers…”

“How do you know this?” Maglor laughed.

“There is a book on them in your library. Birds of the region.”

“What do you think it’s doing?” Maglor asked, leaning forward against the back of the chair. “Looking for food, I imagine.”

“It may be,” said Thranduil. “Most likely. But perhaps it is simply enjoying a lovely day for flying.”

“You think so?”

“Why not?”

Maglor smiled and watched the bird swoop and wheel through the air. “Why not indeed,” he said. “If I could fly, I would go out just to take the air as well.”

By the time they came back in, Maglor was shocked to realize nearly three hours had gone by. He had been sure they hadn’t been gone but perhaps forty minutes!

“This was lovely,” he said, squeezing Thranduil’s shoulder. “We should do it again.” Thranduil said nothing, but beckoned him down, and when Maglor leaned over, Thranduil kissed his cheek warmly, and Maglor blushed.

“We should,” he agreed.

“Are you busy?” Maglor blurted out. Thranduil blinked at him.

“Busy with what?” Maglor’s cheeks darkened.

“Oh, I thought perhaps, ah, you might come with me to the music room. I could show you what I’ve written this week. I have made some significant changes to one of the arias in the second act of the opera. But of course, only if you haven’t another obligation.”

The corners of Thranduil’s mouth were twitching and Maglor’s face burned.

“I have no obligations,” he said.

“Marvelous!” So they retired to the music room and Thranduil shifted from the chair to the old green divan which had once held Maglor’s guests, where he lounged against the arm, quite contently, it seemed to Maglor, listening.

After, Maglor tried to take Thranduil out every day, and he began to think Aunt Lalwen had been right about the fresh air.

***

Maglor took the steps two at a time up to the bedroom and made a beeline for the top shelf of his armoire, certain he had stowed the jade elephant there. When he heard the sound of footsteps, his first thought was that Thranduil had followed him.

“Just give me a moment! I’m sure it’s here,” he said from inside the armoire.

“I thought it was Elwing’s cat in here. What are you looking for?” Maedhros asked.

“Oh.” Maglor drew back and peered curiously out. “Do you remember that jade elephant carving Grandfather gave me? I was sure I put it up here.” Maedhros closed the door behind him as he entered and came up next to Maglor to dig through the shelf with him.

“Hm. I don’t see it.”

“No, I’m sure it’s here…I must have just buried it under something…” Maglor started yanking scarves out of a box.

“What do you need it for?” Maedhros asked.

“I wanted to show it to Thranduil!”

When Maglor drew back again and saw Maedhros’ face, the temperature of the room dropped ten degrees.

“Do you mean to impress him with trinkets?” Maedhros scoffed. “You are already wed, Maglor. Your work is finished.” Maedhros’, on the other hand, was still ongoing.

“I…I just feel it must be rather dull for him, being so confined…” Because they were poisoning him. “I thought this might…” Maedhros was looking so derisive that Maglor forgot what had been in his head about it and he stepped uneasily down from the armoire’s lower shelf where he had been standing. “I had just mentioned it, now, so…” Maedhros crossed his arms.

“It feels that you are losing sight of what the goal is here.”

“I’m not!”

“This man is not your friend, Maglor.”

“No, we’re only married,” Maglor could not help but snipe, even though he knew it would only gall Maedhros further.

Maedhros sneered, but there was a flash of real anger in the way his jaw tightened. “Perhaps you’d like him to bury your bodies and pay your bills?”

“They aren’t my—”

“Need I remind you of what this man would think of you if he knew whom you really loved? The true contents of your heart? What you really seek from him?”

Maglor looked down at the floor.

“I know how little he would think of me,” he mumbled.

“Then why do you waste everyone’s time with these stupid games? Would you be keener to hurry things along if I made it a bit harder for you to play house? If I told him of the others? Of how you treated—”

“Stop it!” Maglor cried, wringing his hands.

“Yet another job you started and couldn’t finish; another mess you left for me to clean up. Do you think you did the kinder thing, leaving her there when you couldn’t manage to end it? Running away, as you always do?”

The scene of that day had grown dimmer and foggier, overlaid with the violent emotions which had never faded. Maglor had thought that after weeks of drinking poison, confined most often to the wheelchair, Elwing would not be difficult to kill; he had not known how hard a body would fight to live. He had also been ignorant of how long it took a person to suffocate.

“She knew the truth,” Maglor wailed. “She was going to tell the press, she said—she was going to tell someone! And she said—she said I was—” Once he had disdainfully observed the coarse personal violence of Celegorm, sneered behind his back—and to his face—along with Caranthir, but he had heard Celegorm’s wild laughter over the scene of Maglor grappling on the parlor floor with Elwing.

“She could barely walk, Maglor. And you so lost your mind the moment she said something you didn’t like that you tried to wring her neck like a Sunday roast. How long until this one says something that upsets you?”

“Stop it, stop it!” Maglor shrieked. His cheeks darkened in anger. “You wanted me to do it! You wanted me to! You told me she would ruin us! And you have been holding it over my head—Stop doing this! You’re hurting me!”

“I’m not hurting you,” Maedhros snapped, that fey look in his eyes that Maglor so despised. “Do not speak to me of being hurt. I am only making you see the truth which you continually strive to ignore.” He waved his prosthetic at Maglor. “When I was a prisoner of the enemy, that was being hurt. And where were you? Tucked safely away in camp.”

Maglor’s throat bobbed; he had no words, and Maedhros knew it.

“I’m sorry,” he whimpered. “I didn’t…of course I’m not…”

“It’s alright,” said Maedhros after a pause, drawing back to an eminently reasonable, even gentle, tone. “I understand your limits. I am happy to suffer in your stead. But do not speak to me as if your petty grievances are hurts.”

Maglor just cringed.

“And remember what our work here is for.”

“Yes, Maedhros,” Maglor whispered. He left the room without the elephant.

***

Baths in Formenos were tepid at best, and yet there was something still relaxing about them. Given how tiresome the rest of Thranduil’s life felt of late, he felt justified in taking them as often as he had the energy to do it. He could spent over an hour laying there, occasionally even draining the chilled water to add more warm water to it and draw it out a while longer (He would have rather gone swimming, but there was nowhere nearby that he knew, and in any case he was probably as likely to drown these days). Bargwend often joined him in the bathroom, as the door never seemed to close properly—likely related to the water that often seeped down the bathroom walls from pipes that had probably rusted through—and would sit by the bathtub, or even up on the rim, silently keeping him company.

They were there when the red ghost returned.

One moment, Thranduil was lounging in the claw-footed tub, his elbows hooked loosely over the rim, contemplating the play of light through the stained-glass window on the vibrant green of the tile floor; the next it was there.

He was certain it was the same ghost who had assailed him in the hallway that night he’d gotten up for water. It oozed through the opening in the door, and the water of the bath sloshed as Thranduil flung himself back, heart pounding instantly, wanting to wail that he could not have one moment of peace or one place sacred from these wretched apparitions.

The ghost advanced, and Thranduil looked frantically about for something to use as a weapon, besides the bar of soap. He had never yet seen that weapons could be effective against ghosts, but if they could touch him, it stood to reason he might be able to touch them, didn’t it?

But the ghost was stopped on the approach by Bargwend, who leaped out from under the sink, hissing and snarling with sounds Thranduil had never heard a housecat make. Her ears flat against her head, whiskers trembling, she took a step nearer to the ghost hovering in the middle of the bathroom, and then took an ambitious swipe at it.

“Bargwend!” Thranduil started to rise from the bath, suddenly terrified the ghost might do some harm to the cat. If she were killed, he did not think he could bear it.

The ghost looked at him standing in the bath, dripping pathetically, and then at the cat, still spitting, and then it plunged through the mirror over the sink and was gone. Thranduil let out a slow exhale, and quickly pulled the plug on the tub and removed himself. He hurried over to the cat, who sprang up with her forepaws on his knee as he crouched down, and rubbed her face against his hand and cheek, as if to verify that he was unharmed. Thranduil murmured various praises and pleasantries to her and kissed the top of her head.

As he grabbed his towel and wrapped it tightly around himself, he noticed the mirror had fogged up again, although the bath had been cold for at least twenty minutes before the ghost’s arrival. There was something else, too: Into the fog on the mirror was scrawled two letters:

E.D.

#rocky writes

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