#edit 2: THERE YOU GO. REJOICE

[queer-enderdragon]

i just,, Could Not put any kind of shirt on doc. so! corset to balance it. @docmaid77 here <3

[phyrestartr]

Icarus Drabbles (Pt.2) | Sukuna x M!Reader

W/C: 3.7k [#Modern AU, ABO dynamics, bottom!reader, top!sukuna, Mob Boss!Sukuna, Alpha!Sukuna, Street Doctor!Reader, Omega!Reader, toxic relationships, age gap, sukuna is mid 30s, yuuji gang and reader are mid 20s, sukuna and yuuji are brothers, sukuna has FEELINGS, but he is BAD AT FEELINGS, nsfw, fluff, hurt/comfort, cheating, zenin family mentioned, lightly edited lmfao]

Note: There will prolly be a third drabble thingie lol I just wanted to post SOMETHING

tag: @better-imagination-9

1. Restless

Sukuna finally bagged you, the omega he pined over and hunted down for over a decade, and knocked you up, made you move in with him to ensure he could keep an eye on you and that growing baby bump. His alpha had rejoiced, running its victory lap around Sukuna’s chest, but then it slowed, yawned, and curled up, satiated. 

Now, his human side was left to its own devices, and it was bored. 

Probably because you were boring. Or, well, you’d become boring–you and your omega seemed more in-tune with one another, both settling down as soon as you both agreed on staying with Sukuna, with your mate. To Sukuna’s human instincts, that meant you were about as exciting and fun as doing his taxes. Yet, at the same time, he couldn’t fathom letting you go. Whenever the hypothetical crossed his mind, that second set of eyes would open and stare, tear bared, anger rippling. And Sukuna would agree with it. He didn’t want to lose you, yet he didn’t always want you either. 

And he was bored. 

“Hey,” you cooed, leaning over his shoulder as he stared into space on the couch. “You okay?”

Sukuna blinked a few times and rubbed his face tiredly, finding himself growing pissed off at the dull delight your presence brought him. “Yeah, ‘m fine. Need something?”

“Well, Christmas’s coming up,” you reminded. “Wanted to make sure we were still–”

“Can’t.” Bitterness rose in the back of Sukuna’s throat. God, he didn’t even want to look at you right now. “Gotta work.” He finally spared you a glance, but only after a long stretch of silence. You didn’t look perturbed or mad, not really sad or disappointed, just…placid. 

You looked at your phone, staring at something just for a moment before returning back to him with a slight nod of acceptance. “Alright.” 

Sukuna's other bristled. “Alright.” 

“I knew you couldn't really be taken ‘n tied down, Sukuna-sama,” Yorozu cooed as she cozied up into the spot between the man's legs, her hands smoothing up and down his thighs before deftly unlatching his belt and ripping it off. “You're too good for that sort of life.” 

“Don’t you have somethin’ better to do with that mouth?” The nice part of Sukuna asked. The less nice part of him wanted to rip her head off and punt it at the stupid fucking moon. Luckily for her, he was trying not to throw as many things at the horizon these days. 

Yorozu's eyes shone with pure delight. “Oh, of course, of course.” She unzipped his slacks expertly quick and pulled free his half-chub, excitedly stroking it to get him to full-mast. 

Sukuna sighed and sank back in his chair, trying to focus and enjoy the attention and spice he so sorely missed, but it was hard. Well, not hard, which was the problem–his mind wasn't finding this (cheating, getting a blow job at his desk, having a woman with tits on his knees for him) exciting. Thankfully, though, his body reacted in his mind's stead, and decided to not embarrass him. 

He closed his eyes and focused on the small hands grasping his base and holding his thigh–but your bigger, stronger hands held him better, digging in without the lethality of acrylics threatening harm. At least her mouth was warm, her lips soft--but your lips were soft, too, and you knew where he liked to feel your tongue press down. Her hair was silky and thick enough to fist his hand in–but yours was just…better. He couldn't describe it, but–

Knock it off, he growled. He needed a break from you, from how mundane you made everything, that was the whole fucking reason he ditched you in the first place. You were boring. You were making life boring. You–

What were you up to, actually? 

Sukuna sighed, this time in defeat, and snatched up his phone while Yorozu gave him head. He scrolled through whatever socials he knew you had, but saw nothing new, nothing Christmas-y. 

Who the hell is he visiting again? He looked to the side, gazing through the huge windows looming behind his desk as he thought, and then remembered. 

Sukuna tapped open your text thread and grimaced–it was so blatantly one-sided. The sight of his flippant convo-killing responses hit him with a wave of psychic damage that probably couldn't be fully healed for as long as he lived. He wasn't a fan of texting, but he was a fan of you. But-wait, didn't he loathe you?

5:05am went to see my mom for christmas

5:05am getting picked up dw

5:06am hope work doesn't suck too much

Right. You went to see family. Right. Sukuna was supposed to meet your mother. 

Damn.

“Fuck's sake,” Sukuna muttered moments before fisting his hand in Yorozu's hair and pulling him off his softening cock. “We're done.” He stood and tucked himself away, ignoring the indignant scoff the woman sent his way. 

“Sukuna–” 

“Leave.” He sent a text your way instead of tuning in to whatever Yorozu said as she picked herself up off her knees:

10:49pm When should I pick you up?

Of course he was gonna pick you up. He wasn’t about to let someone else take care of you for a second longer. 

“Clearly you're unhappy,” Yorozu finally cut in. 

Sukuna saw a read notification pop up in the chat. 

“Clearly that other one isn't satisfying you fully.” 

He watched the three dots pop up as you replied back. 

“After he has your pup–”

10:52pm you can come now

10:52pm if you're free 

“--you should reconsider your choice in mate–” 

Bang.

10:53pm Send me the address.

He stepped over her and the pooling crimson on his way to the door, texting Uraume to call the cleaners to take care of a mess in his office while he went to pick up his baby mama. 

Picking you up had been eventful.

Firstly, Maki and Mai had refused to open the gate for Sukuna in favour of mocking him and exclaiming, “are you kidding me? You're the baby daddy?” while incessantly prodding him for information. You'd managed to bat them aside to let him up to the house, though it took some effort on your part. 

Next, Toji Zenin himself was waiting at the front door, arms crossed, totally unbothered, dressed in his hideous Christmas jumper that his woman had apparently made him wear as punishment for something. Sukuna ribbed him, hiding just how confused he was about the entire thing–he didn't fucking get why there were so many Zenin assholes here. The outcasts, sure, but what the fuck was that about? 

“Oh. Toji's my stepdad,” you said when you had finally squeezed your dragon's hoard of gifts into the car and got in the damn thing to go home. Sukuna left it at that for the time being–he didn't want to think about what the fuck that meant now that the two of you were together. He had time to ask a thousand questions another day.

His mind still whirred in the elevator, though, and when he helped carry your only-child gifts into the penthouse like a servant put under a spell. You said something to him that he only realized a solid fifteen minutes later was, “I'm taking a bath. There's room for two,” and a fire suddenly lit under his ass. 

“Huh, so you can bear to look at me,” you hummed from the bath. It was large and oaken, filled with yuzu thanks to Uraume's thoughtfulness, and it overlooked snowy Tokyo and all its bustling, light-filled glory and–wait, what.

Sukuna scoffed as he pulled off his clothes methodically. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

You watched him undress shamelessly. “It means you still have lipstick on your dick.” You poked away one of the yuzu that bumped into you. “It's not really my colour.” 

Sukuna clenched his teeth and kicked aside his clothes before grabbing the showerhead to wash off before joining you because he was going to join you. No matter the case. No matter the objection. 

But you never objected. You leaned back in the tub and watched him while you rolled another yuzu between your palms. “Did you have fun fucking her?” Fuck, you could be so scary sometimes. And you didn't even have to try.

Sukuna found it hard to answer. He found it hard to even speak. Christ, was this shame? “Look–I didn't fuck her. Didn't even get close.” 

“So she just sucked your dick.”

“Tried. Didn't finish. Couldn't.” 

“So sad. Why not?”

“‘Cause she's not you.” Sukuna finished with the shower and slipped into the bath, sitting across from you with a content sigh. “You give better head.” 

“That went from being somewhat meaningful to annoying,” you grumbled. Still, you scooched over to him and pressed up against his side, clearly in the mood to forgive his stupid little attempted fling. “So. Then you're sure about this.” 

“Sure about what?” Sukuna wondered, suddenly feeling more at ease with the rich scent of you pooling through his senses. He leaned into you when you carefully smoothed his hair out of his face with that usual, simple gentility he'd come to desire so desperately every day. “Sure about you?” 

“Yeah. Us. Everything.” You nuzzled at his neck, dutifully scenting him up with kisses, nips and licks. “You started pulling away like a pussy, so I figured you regretted it.” 

Sukuna had to laugh. “You're callin’ me a pussy?” He half-growled before yoinking you into his lap and squeezing you up against him. His grin widened when he saw you hold back a smile. “I think you should apologize.” 

“You cheated on me with your stalker. Why do I need to apologize?” 

“You hurt my fuckin’ feelings.” 

“Oh. Hm. I see.” Your fingers, bigger than a woman's yet still elegant as a piano player's, danced across his firm shoulders in thought. “I think you need to have feelings for me to hurt them.” 

His hands found their rightful place (on your ass) and kneaded your skin thoroughly, squeezing and pinching wherever he felt most enticed. “You know I have feelings, sweetheart. Why do ya think you're here in the first place, huh?” 

Your scent flared with bashful approval. “Guess that's good to know. These days, you've left me wondering.” 

Sukuna grew placid gazing upon your features, listening to your words. If he really tried, behind that diamond mask of nonchalance most Zenin brats wore, there existed soft, vulnerable skin--tired and ragged, worried and creased. He'd done that to you. Why had he done that to you? 

He lifted a hand from your curves to cup your face gently, his touch breaking through the shields you so bravely put up to tell the world to fuck off. And you leaned into that touch so eagerly, so hungrily, with a sigh that sounded like you just remembered how to breathe. 

“‘M sorry,” Sukuna mumbled. The word felt foreign on his tongue. He didn’t know if he even said it right.

Your eyes squeezed shut just a little tighter, holding onto whatever you could of your crumbling shell as your hand rose to rest on his. “You know I love you,” you said while diamond dust turned to quicksilver.

Sukuna wiped the glimmer from your lashes. “Love you too, runt. Mean it.” Those words still felt strange, too, but he loved those words. He loved the way they made you glow from within, how they solidified you and stopped you from collapsing into a melted mess in the face of his betrayal and swift try at redemption. 

You nodded a little, the hard line of your mouth softening. Sukuna relaxed and hugged you close to him, purring deep in his chest in rhythm with you as you wholly accepted him in return and buried your face into his neck. He did the same, scenting you the way you had him, enjoying your company and weight against him. Because he loved you. He really did. 

So, he said once again, “Sorry.”

2. Family Matters

“Sukuna,” Wasuke warned. The attention of the younger alpha, leaning against the counter, was on you as you yapped on about this and that with his little brother.

Sukuna grunted and looked over his shoulder at the old man, though, silently and curtly asking, what? even though he already knew what was coming.

“Leave that boy alone.” 

Sukuna stared at his grandfather. It'd become more and more common, the way the young man challenged his elder, maintaining hostile eye contact that threatened the beginning of the end if the older broke first–but he never did. The old fuck was too tough. Molded by whatever his own colourful irezumi put him through. 

Once, when he was younger, Sukuna wanted to know how to break his elder. He wanted to crack him open and rip those secrets from him, find out how he could use that knowledge to his advantage to never feel so small in the eyes of another ever again. He hated it. He hated the dominance held over him, the humility that came with it. 

But, like always, Sukuna broke first, looking away with a grumble, reinforcing his place in the food chain.

Sukuna sighed. The old house was the same–far too traditional, too plain, too normal. It irked him to his core. Here, amidst all the boring normal shit of his past, his status in society no longer mattered; here, he forfeited first place, and took up second.

“Hey,” came your voice, muffled by the car window separating you from your lover. When Sukuna looked over at you, he saw his little nugget tucked safely in your arms, only half-awake as she nuzzled into the warmth of your chest. 

But then there was you. A face full of confusion, annoyance, and exasperation greeted Sukuna. You went for the door handle to wrench your man out of the car, but he locked it, watching you yank on the handle a handful of times before you knocked on the window incessantly. 

“Get out of the goddamn car, you little shit,” you hissed, looking between Sukuna and the front door of the house frantically. You stared at him hard, then, your frustration building every second your alpha refused to budge and end the embarrassment crashing down on you. 

A terrifyingly calm expression took over your face, before you adjusted the little pup in your arms and fished something out of your pocket. Sukuna didn't realize what it was until you leaned over and slammed your fist into the hood of the car, tearing into it easily with the fucking key in your hand. 

“You gotta be shitting me–” Sukuna scrambled to unlock the door and swing it open. He hopped out and slammed the car door closed. “You little–” 

“Oh, good, you found your balls.” 

Sukuna groaned as he looked at the damage you left. “Baby, you know how expensive this is gonna be to fix? Fucking hell, why're you such a crazy bitch?” 

“Well, look who I'm stuck with,” you said lightly. “Obviously you've corrupted me. It's not my fault.”

Sukuna grumbled and turned to you, grabbing you and pulling you close; but instead doling out a punishment as his past self was so accustomed to doing, he aggressively nuzzled the top of your head, viciously scenting you up and squeezing you against his solid frame while he grumbled and growled. 

“I'm splitting you in half when we get home.” 

You sighed, dramatic. “Oh no. I'm so afraid. But I guess I deserve such a brutal punishment. Sigh.” You nuzzled him back before tiptoeing up to kiss his chin, then his lips when he leaned down to meet you the rest of the way. “Ready?” 

Sukuna took a deep breath and looked over your face, running the back of his fingers against the rise of your cheekbone. He loved touching your face these days (more than usual). You still held onto a bit of pregnancy plushness that filled in the hollow angles of your handsomely beautiful face and other once-bony parts of your body. You'd never panicked about it, but you bitched and moaned, loudly lamenting about the way your clothes fit a little differently or how you just had to keep stealing Sukuna's shirts to replace your own. 

Touka, your little one, mewled from her spot smooshed between her parents. Sukuna sighed as he pulled back to look down at her, hoping she'd take most the heat off of him when he faced his grandfather again. 

“Let's just get this over with.” 

Yuuji was the one who answered the door. He lived with Wasuke, claiming it was just easier and cheaper than getting his own place, but most knew the younger was a worry wart; he couldn't stand by and let his grandfather get put in a home or quietly tough out everyday life on his own in his elderly years. Yuuji stayed for the sake of family, and Wasuke quietly welcomed it. His brother's goodness nearly struck Sukuna with guilt. 

But any chance at guilt died the moment he met the old bastard's stony gaze. 

“Itadori-san,” you cooed pleasantly, a far cry from the demon that'd keyed Sukuna's car. “It's good to see you again.” 

Wasuke quirked a brow and walked up to you, nudging Yuuji aside so he could get a good look at you and the pup nestled to your chest. Sukuna took a breath and looked away. He didn't need to see the critical stare of the old man while he processed the fact that Sukuna had indeed not stayed away from you. Ugh, the idea of being scolded made the alpha itch. 

“We're far beyond honorifics, boy. You know that,” Wasuke lightly scolded, and you beamed. Sukuna could imagine a little shiba inu tail on you, wagging fast enough to take flight. “I'm glad to see you in one piece after taming my grandson. It must've been a damn ordeal.”

Yuuji cackled impishly, pointing at Sukuna. “Oooh, burn.” 

“Sorry, who got the omega in the end?” Sukuna quipped back, making Yuuji sprout a grumpy look and cross his arms with a mumbled you suck. 

“Quit the fighting and come in,” Wasuke ushered. “And you,” he snapped, looking at Sukuna with chronic disapproval, “Take off those sunglasses. You're trying too hard. Look like an idiot.”

You stifled your laughter as Sukuna grumbled and plucked his shades off. His very cool, very neat, very fancy, very expensive shades.

Wasuke ushered you all inside, gesturing to the kotatsu prepared with food and drinks and starting off on a grumbling rant about the shitty cold mornings and warm afternoons that came with Spring. Obviously, he'd complained to break the ice, and it worked. 

Small talk turned into easier conversation. Whenever Sukuna seemed to struggle with being cordial, you would lean into him more, squeezing his hand tightly whilst purring under the radar. That worked, too. As much as Sukuna was an asshole, he didn't want the afternoon to fall apart. Better he stay quieter than say something to regret. 

“They've calmed you down,” Wasuke said, snapping Sukuna's mind to attention. It was then that he finally noticed Yuuji had effectively kidnapped little Touka and was giving her a tour of the house like she actually gave a shit. 

“Hm?” He grunted, so eloquent. 

You rolled your eyes and shook your head, leaning into your partner more with a sigh. “Words, not grunts, Sukuna.”

He huffed. “You grunt at me all the damn time.” 

“Not at our elders.” 

“Tch.” Sukuna rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Whaddaya mean they've calmed me down, huh?” 

Wasuke, for once, looked somewhat amused. “Your pup. Your mate. They've made you human.” 

“Ha? You're actin’ like I was some four-armed, two-faced freak or some shit.” 

“Some days you acted like it,” Wasuke scoffed. “Doesn't matter if you agree or not, I can see the change in you, kid–that wild thing inside of you is finally settling down.”

You hummed and looked up at him. “I've noticed, too. You're less pissy. More tolerant. Still annoying, but that's just a personality flaw.” Sukuna growled and nipped at you, but you faced him so very bravely and suffered no such nip. 

“I'm glad for you, kid,” Wasuke interjected, breaking up the petty fight that was about to go down. The two of you looked back to the eldest. “You were a real pain in the ass, and you fucked up a lot along the way, but you made things work out. You should be proud.” 

Sukuna would never be able to put his feelings, the utter rush he felt getting his grandfather's approval, into words. 

“So where does this end, kid?” Wasuke asked. 

“What?” He asked before he could properly think it through. 

“This life. Your ‘profession.’ How long're you gonna keep that up, huh?” 

Sukuna could feel you lean into him more, letting more body weight ease your shared worries about the life you shared and the professions you'd taken up. Both unpredictable. Both in the crosshairs of dangerous beasts.

“You think we'll end up six feet under like mom ‘n dad, that it?” Sukuna rasped. He looped an arm around your waist and squeezed you against his side in reassurance as Wasuke's expression grew gloomier.

“You're more like your mother than you know, kid. You don't–”

“‘Course I don't know,” Sukuna interrupted, firm but not vicious. “Mom was a fucking moron ‘n knocked up whoever the fuck she could to get an in into one of those big-name clans. No shit they'd get pissed off and kill the bitch.” 

Wasuke scowled, but didn't argue. It was hard to when his daughter in-law was in the wrong, when she dug her own grave with every child sired before slipping and falling in on her own. A sad story. An incredibly stupid one, too. 

“That won't happen,” you offered mildly. Sukuna looked down at you, suddenly feeling the urge to shoot another baby into you as you spoke up on your own. “I trust Sukuna as much as I trust myself; he's worked hard to create an untouchable empire, and I have the connections to supplement it.” You glanced up at him. “If it's not Sukuna, then it'll be someone else running Tokyo. I couldn't think of a better king.”

A beat of silence passed before Wasuke asked, “And you, kid?” You afraid? 

Sukuna willed his mind out of R-rated territory to look at his grandfather. “You know me,” he started with a troublesome grin, “I can't stay away from what I want.” 

[dinogoofymutated]

SFW!Nightcrawler/GN!Reader - Part 1 - part 2 - Part 3

kdhbcjshbc I know I said I was gonna work on my Wolverine fic rn but I got sidetracked. This was originally going to be one long ass fic but since the first half ended up already over 4k works I decided to split it into two! It's basically a friends to lovers fic and I know the beginning is a bit of a jumpscare but they're both adults by the end of the fic I promise!! Edit: I totally forgot to add!! Another special thanks to @blue-devil-of-the-lord for their help with german translations!

Tws: Mentions of animal cruelty in the circus. The ringleader is an asshole. I might have made Kurt's brother a bit of an asshole too sorry. Kurt's backstory is going to be kinda a combination of all the shit I've read/know so please be patient lol. I'll go back and add more tags if I think of any.

    You were sixteen when you first met Kurt Wagner, although, he went by Kurt Szardos back then. You had never been to the circus before, and you hadn’t really paid to be there anyway. The show had already started when your father had taken you into the tent, sitting you down in an absent seat near the front. You didn’t want to get in trouble, but he had assured you it was fine. He had business to attend to, and told you that his future employer had given his blessing for you to sit and watch as your father handled business. After all, the two of you were a combo deal, and if you were to be working for the circus, you might as well know just what you were getting yourself into.

    The circus tent was loud with laughter and the sounds of an awed crowd. It was a little overwhelming, to be honest. There were simply too many voices, too many lights- and yet when you finally set aside your grievances to try and enjoy the show, you still struggled.

    The monkeys were annoyed with their handler, and every shout towards the crowd was an insult. The lion was young, and still afraid he wouldn’t make the jump through that vicious ring of fire- still healing from the burns he earned by brushing against the flames during the last performance. The doves from the magician act were a bonded pair, rejoicing the time and attention they were being given in the spotlight- and yet the male was already dreading their moments after the show and the dark, dirty cage they would kept in. The female was trying her best to cheer him up. Every animal was unafraid to keep their voice down, and you had never heard animals speak so loudly before. Part of you wonders if it was simply because they were so used to being ignored, they had grown used to letting their voice free- speaking from the heart and yet always being unheard.

    You didn’t like this part of the circus much- and although the tricks these animals did were beautiful and amazing, you couldn’t manage to enjoy it like all the others around you did. You were frowning while all others were smiling and laughing so joyously- perhaps that was what drew him to you in the first place. 

    “And now, Ladies and Gentlemen, may I present-” All but one of the spotlights have started to circle around the tent, the ringmaster standing completely within the only lingering light. “Our Flying Fiend… the Daredevil Demon… The one and only, Nightcrawler!” Every moving spotlight lands on a single man standing on one of the high beams. He’s smiling so brightly that you can see it from where you stand feet below him. He’s… strange. Elf-like ears, yellow eyes, and blue skin. A pointed tail sways eagerly behind him, and he takes a deep bow in front of you. His yellow eyes peer open as he does so, and for a moment, you swear he looks straight at you. You’re not entirely sure if he was wearing a costume or not anymore. 

    The performance starts out with one hell of a beginning. Every flip and jump is an incredible act of athleticism- and you find your eyes following Nightcrawler throughout every trick. Two other acrobats join the fray, and yet he’s the only one who catches your eye. At one point, they bring out these long swings- ones that sweep right above the audience with every swoop. There’s one swing for every side of the audience- and the acrobats switch with a dramatic flare every few swings. 

    On the very last switch, Nightcrawler is the one who swings over your seats. 

    He’s much more handsome up close, you realize, blushing even where you are now. You swear with every swing, he’s looking at you. It makes your heart flutter a bit, and on the very last swing of the night, he takes out a rose, pretending to throw it to multiple groups of screaming fans, before he swings again with a dramatic flair. Unlike the other times, he’s holding onto the swing with his feet and tail. He’s so close to the audience without touching a single hair on anyone's head- and then he gets to you.

    You could have sworn that time had slowed, no matter how quickly it happened. The two of you finally lock eyes, and his hand stretches out. The rose falls into your lap, the air whooshing by your face as he’s gone just as quickly. You pick up the flower, a genuine smile finally on your face, and you find that all the other voices of excitement around you have finally drowned out.

    That was the first and last time you had watched the show at Herr Getmann's Traveling Menagerie. After that, you and your father were behind the scenes instead of in the stands. 

    It had been about a week and a half since you and your father had been walking to the circus to work. He knew every path and every road like the back of his hand, insisting the two of you walk instead of drive to save money on gas, and he just so happened to know a few shortcuts through the woods. Usually, you were able to rely on him to guide you, but today you woke up late. Your father had already left without you- which you’re not entirely sure wasn’t intentional. He did leave a note for you, giving you instructions on how to get there on your own. 

    Needless to say, that didn’t actually work out too well. A thirty to forty-five-minute walk had quickly turned into an hour, and then an hour in a half. You were trying your absolute best to follow the instructions, but this was hardly a cohesive path in the middle of the woods. It wasn’t exactly easy.

    You’re beginning to give up at this point, stumbling through the brush as you try to find the general direction you think you’re supposed to be going. Your feet have started to ache and blister, and you find yourself beginning to lose hope.

    “Hello!” If the sound of the voice hadn’t scared the shit out of you, the strange man hanging upside down from the branches of a wild Crab apple tree certainly did. You shriek in terror, your feet slipping as you fall back on your butt. You hold your hands over your heart as the strange acrobat from the circus jumps down in a panic, holding his even stranger hands out in front of him.

    “Oh- Es tut mir Leid! I am so sorry! I had not meant to startle you!” He says frantically, kneeling down to help you up in a very gentlemanly manner. You’re wide-eyed as you look at him, letting him help you up without a fuss. Up close and in broad daylight like this, it was very clear that he certainly was… Blue, to say the least.

    “I-it’s okay.” You stutter. He smiles warmly at you, tail swaying excitedly behind him, and it simply confirms to you that he wasn’t wearing a costume at all. You open and close your mouth a few times, trying to find some words. He blinks at you as you do so, patiently (if not obliviously) waiting for you to speak.

    “You’re from the circus, aren’t you?” Is what you finally land on, still a little startled from before. The acrobat nods eagerly.

    “I am. I'm happy that you remember me! I’ve been told I leave a bit of an impression.” He jokes, and you find yourself smiling again. He was charming, for someone so strange. “The farrier is your father, right?” He asks, taking you by surprise. You didn’t think that anyone had taken the time to notice you, your father’s shadow in every sense of the word. It makes you feel a little funny, but surely he didn’t remember you from that first performance, right? Maybe he’s just very observant of those who come in and out of the circus stables. 

    “Well, yes.” You affirm, starting to anxiously fiddle with your fingers. “I didn’t really expect you to know who I was, to be honest.” He lets out a happy chuckle at that.

    “Of course, I know! A face like yours is hard to forget.” He chirps, sending you a wink. “But I must say, You’re a bit far from the circus, Meine Freundin.” You make a bit of a grimace at that, and he sends you a questioning smile.

    “Yes, well… To be frankly honest, I’m a bit lost.” You admit, eyes locked solely on the ground, taking the time to notice the various fruits that had fallen from the tree and gone bad. You can see the acrobat’s tail swaying in your peripheral vision, and still feel his eyes on you. It makes you blush a little from embarrassment, a little flustered that you had become so lost.

    “I’ll gladly show you the way, I was just about to go back myself.” Your head snaps up to look at him in bewilderment at that, before you realize just how lucky you are to have found him out here. He picks up a basket of crab apples that you hadn’t noticed before, and you offer to carry it for him as a thanks for guiding you back. He won’t let you no matter how hard you try, certainly the first gentleman you’ve met in quite a while. He tells you that your profuse thanks is more than enough for him.

    The two of you get to talking while you make the long walk back to the circus, and he tells you about his mother, Margali Szardos, and how she had asked him to wander over this way to pick the fruit from the crab apple tree for her. She was fairly adamant about him doing so, telling him that it was of great importance, but he didn’t quite understand why fruit could be such a pressing matter. He’s very funny, and you find yourself greatly enjoying his company. The two of you feel like close friends already, and you hadn’t even realized that you didn’t even know his real name until you’ve already arrived at the plethora of brightly colored circus tents.

    “I’m so sorry, I don’t believe I ever asked for your name.” You say, the awkwardness of the question not even registering with how happy you are to simply be in his company. He sends you another dazzling smile before he holds his hand, offering it for you to shake.

    “I’m Kurt.” He tells you. You introduce yourself as well, happy to have made a new friend today. You hear someone calling your name from not too far away, and spot your father waving his hand at you, calling you over.

    “I have to go, but thank you so much for your help!” You say, once again thanking him adamantly.

    “Walking with you was lovely. I hope to see you more often.” Kurt says, right before you go. You can’t help but blush a little, unable to keep yourself from smiling widely. You couldn’t help it! He was just so handsome in both looks and personality, the strangeness of his skin color and three-fingered hands being something you easily begin to care less and less about.

    “Likewise.” You agree, almost completely flustered. Your father calls for you again, and you quickly say your goodbyes before you rush off to him. You find yourself in a rather good mood for the rest of the day, despite your sore and blistered feet from the long journey here.

    Many months flew by very fast while you and your father worked for the circus, and you and Kurt had grown very close. He visited you when he could sneak away from practice and performances, and although you were more concerned about him staying out of trouble, you began to appreciate the company beyond the way a simple friend would, finding yourself blushing and flustered while around him.

    A fact that hadn’t changed throughout your time there was the treatment of many of the animals. All of them had a grievance or problem of some sort, and it broke your heart to have to stand by without the ability to help them. In the eyes of the circus, you were just the Ferrier’s assistant, nothing more. At first, you were, in the very least. Some of the animal trainers had noticed how good you were with the horses, and how even the most skittish of the equine animals would calm around you and let you handle them without any trouble. Things like that don’t go unnoticed, and soon enough many of the animal handlers had heard about your “gift” with the live attractions. Part of this was due to your Father’s constant bragging about your special skill with animals, although you were the only one who knew the truth about it all. After a while, the frustrated animal trainers began to ask you to assist them with the other animals as well, noting how it hadn’t taken very long before they were at ease around you. The size of cages and the attitudes of the trainers were something you couldn’t change very much, but even if you could only help out with a few things here and there, you were happy- and the animals were too.

    Today, you were doing your best to handle an absolute disaster. 

    Tonight’s animal show was a new set, with lots of loud noises and the pops of fireworks launching far, far above the tops of the tallest tent. With so many new lights and colors, they should have known something was bound to go wrong- and boy, did it. The smallest pony in the show was a stunning Blue Roan mare named Bubbles- and unlike many of the other mares in the show, she was very skittish. Her trainers mostly knew to be careful around her, but that consideration slipped under the radar when it came to all the new changes. Her show went by relatively seamless, with only a few issues here and there- but it was enough to put her on edge. When the fireworks finale went off as she was being led out of the main tent, it was just her last straw.

    I don’t like them. I don’t like the loud noises. Bubbles is pacing anxiously in the back of her tiny stable, still having trouble settling down. Every bump or noise from outside and even the neighboring stables sends her spiraling again. You’re standing at the gate, giving her a cautious amount of room to pace and worry so that she doesn’t feel trapped by you. 

    “I know, Bubbles, It’s okay.” You whisper. You’re so concerned for her, and angry with her trainers, too. It makes your blood boil to remember how one of them had gotten frustrated with her tonight, eventually giving up on settling her completely and thrusting her reins at you, telling you to “take this stupid thing somewhere else!”. The lack of patience and understanding makes you rage, but you know you can’t say a thing if you want to keep this opportunity to work with the animals.

    Please don’t be mad at me. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m so scared. I’ll do better, I promise. Bubbles says again. The words almost bring tears to your eyes, hurting for her. You hate seeing her so scared.

“Hey, hey. Easy, I’m not mad at you, I promise. You’re safe with me, okay?” You tell her, starting to slowly approach her as her pacing begins to slow. She whinnies once, huffing as she tries her best to calm herself down. Eventually, she begins to settle, letting you get close enough to reassuringly pet her nose and flank. She leans into the comforting touches, finally beginning to relax after being high-strung for so long. The two of you sit in a comfortable silence for a minute, enjoying each other's company as you hear the sounds of the circus begin to dwindle and die.

     I’m sorry for all the trouble. Bubbles apologizes quietly.

    “You haven’t been any trouble, Bubbles, I promise.” You say soothingly. “Do you want to talk for a bit before I go?” She nods her head, and that’s all the answer you need.

    The two of you talk for a long, long while as you take off her tack and brush her down, pampering her as you ready her for bed. You talk about food, trainers, the new horseshoes she’s getting next week- anything at all. Even Kurt comes up in conversation, eventually.

    I like him. She says decisively. He sneaks me leftover apples. You can’t help but giggle at that, already having a hunch that he had been giving the horses treats while no one was looking. Not that you really mind, it was nice to know that they had someone other than you and your father looking out for them.

    “I agree. He’s very nice.” You say, smiling brightly. She noses you in response.

    I think he likes you, too. You instantly blush at her words, shaking your head at her with a flustered smile. You honestly doubted he saw you as much more of a friend, even if the two of you have had somewhat sensitive moments sometimes.

    “I really don't think-”

    “Guten Abend!” You can’t help but shriek at the greeting, knowing just who it was as you whip around in the stable, spotting Kurt leaning against the gate with a cheesy smile.

    “Kurt! You have got to stop scaring me like that!” You scold, throwing the dandy brush at him. He pretends to be wounded, holding a hand over the spot it hit him dramatically as he laughs.

    “I’m sorry. Seems I couldn’t help myself.” Kurt says, and you lightly slap his arm again for good measure when you can reach him, trying and failing to keep yourself from smiling at his antics.

    “You could have startled Bubbles. It took forever for me to get her settled after the show today!” You scold him again, smile not letting up for a second. Kurt smiles a little nervously at that before he looks behind you to see the completely unbothered Bubbles.

    He wouldn’t have- I saw him come in. She says. You wave her off discreetly. That’s not the point, Bubbles! But even without being able to understand her, Kurt seems to get the hint that she wasn’t even a tad bit bothered and jumps the gate with such ease you can’t help but be a little jealous of his athleticism. 

    “Then I’ll apologize to you too, Bubbles.” Kurt cooes, lavishing her forehead and muzzle with pets and kisses that she happily receives. You watch him with a smile, a warm feeling spreading through your chest. You knew you were absolutely gone on him, this little crush of yours having developed into true and deep feelings of affection. But how could you not? Even watching him right now it’s clear to see the kindness and support he gives to every living thing regardless of status or species. That meant more to you than you think he might ever know.

    “How was it out there?” You ask eventually, leaning against the side of the stable.

    “So-so. The crowds have started to react less to our sets. Mother says that we’ll get better reactions if we change the performance a little.” Kurt shrugs, tail tucked tightly around his own waist- something you noticed he did every time he entered the stables so that he wouldn’t startle the horses with the snake-like limb. You frown, eyebrows furrowing at the news. You knew that they had been trying some new things for the animal shows, but the acrobatics had always been so incredible and immaculate. It’s strange to you that anyone would look on at that part of the show with a straight face.

    “And how does Ringmaster Getmann feel about that?” You ask. Bubbles huffs through her nose angrily at his name, and you join Kurt by her side, petting her shoulder. You can see that Kurt is frowning, not responding to your question as his eyes stay squarely on Bubbles. 

    “...Kurt?” You’re really worried for him now, knowing that the look on his face can only mean that nothing good will come of it.

    “It’s nothing for you to worry over.” Kurt responds after a minute. “He wants us to do riskier tricks, but Mother keeps telling him it’s not the best idea. He’s rather adamant about it though.” His voice is soft while he delivers the news, and it makes you wonder how on earth he’s not angry about the blatant disregard for both his and his adoptive siblings’ safety.

     I knew I had a good reason to hate that man! Bubbles speaks angrily as she flicks her tail, Kurt being the only reason she hadn’t bucked or stopped in frustration. Your worry begins to deepen as you think everything over.

    “I- You won’t get hurt, will you?” You ask, worry clearly spilling into your tone. “The animal injuries are already bad enough, but if he starts risking human lives-”

    “I’ll be fine, Schatz.” Kurt cuts you off, stepping away from Bubbles to take your hands in his own. The nickname had a tendency to make your heart flutter, but right now all you could feel was the anxiety of an impending disaster. “Please don’t worry for me.” He tells you, brushing a lock of hair away from your face. You’re breath catches at the act, and when you look at him there's a fond, reassuring look on his face. Still, it did not ease your worries in the slightest. Kurt takes a step closer to you, his hand cupping your face now instead.

    “I can’t help it. I worry because I care.” You whisper. Kurt smiles softly at you, leaning in to rest his forehead against your own. The two of you sit in silence for a minute, reveling in the fond moment. Still, your lips tingled with how close the two of you are, eyes darting down to the shape of his lips as you ran your tongue across your own. Kurt’s pretty eyes don’t let the action go unnoticed. He begins to lean in to close the gap between the two of you, and your eyes flutter closed as he does so.

    “Kurt.” The voice startles the two of you, separating immediately. It’s Stephan, Kurt’s adoptive brother. He’s not only startled you and Kurt, but Bubbles too. She spooks in the tiny stables, rearing up before you immediately turn to her, doing your best to calm her down once again. She’s breathing a little hard, but she’s not pacing again, which was much better than before, although you were certainly peeved to have backtracked already.

   “You know you’re not supposed to linger around the stables after the show,” Stephan says to Kurt, who only frowns. The two had begun to form a rather strained relationship as of late, but neither of you would have expected him to go out of his way to catch Kurt like this. You glance back at them as you finish settling Bubbles, staying silent as the two of them share a look. Kurt’s tail sways a bit, and you can see Stephan roll his eyes at Kurt before he nods his head to the door and begins to leave. Kurt sighs deeply before he turns to you with a remorseful look.

    “I’ll see you soon- promise,” Kurt says, taking your hands in his own and giving them a reassuring squeeze. You’re frowning, unable to help it at this point due to the moment being ruined. Kurt leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead before he leaves, and you smile a bit. He gives you another quiet goodbye before he jumps the gate again, and follows his brother out.

    You're left standing there with Bubbles, and despite Kurt’s promises, you have an uneasy feeling in your chest. You want to blame it on the disappointment of the night, but you can't help but wonder when you'd actually get to see him again.

[myosotisa]

i'm starvin, darlin - e.m.

Eddie Munson x Reader

ǁ summary: Since coming back from the Upside Down, Eddie has slowly been changing. Each week seems to bring something different and he finds himself doing things he never thought he would.

ǁ tags: gender neutral reader, no pronouns, no y/n. nickname used (sweetheart). mentions of season 4 final episode and what occurred. canon divergent (every one lived). it's not smut, but smut adjacent. it's sexy

ǁ word count: 2k

ǁ notes: i sat down and wrote an entire one shot in one sitting again. and i am also not going to edit this one. and i do not feel bad for lowercase hozier title, so don't even try me like that. if y'all really like it, i can add a part 2 with smut, but this is it for now

-

There are still a lot of things Eddie is having to come to terms with since the night his heart stopped.

That night in the Upside Down, laying in Dustin’s arms, he had died. Without a doubt. Dustin had felt his pulse and there was nothing there. And though he didn’t know CPR, had no idea what he was doing, Dustin had laid him down on the ground and started to beat against his chest. Like maybe if he hit hard enough and in the right place, his friend would come back to life.

Somehow it worked. No one bothered to ask why.

But they all knew something was wrong two days later. Eddie, barely breathing and with a weak heartbeat, had been dragged back to the surface and hidden away in the RV they had stolen. Someone watched him round the clock as they debated what to do. If they should try to get him to a hospital, how they’d be able to explain it. But then something miraculous began to happen:

Eddie started healing. All on his own. Way faster than any person should have been able to.

His skin stitched itself back together faster than should be possible, leaving less scar tissue than it should have behind. His chest began to rise and fall in more steady breaths, his heart beat getting stronger, bones resetting themselves with slow and quiet creaks as he laid in that RV bed and slept. He’d been asleep since they brought him back.

The day he woke up, his body had almost entirely healed itself. From the brink of death, having even stepped over to the other side, and now he was almost back to before it ever happened. It had only been a week.

Everyone rejoiced, refusing to question anything weird that may have happened in the Upside Down and just thinking they finally won for once. Max had casts on both her arms but was otherwise unharmed, Steve had recovered from his own injuries at the rate of a normal human and now sported a scar around his throat that he sometimes felt self conscious about. Dustin was on crutches with his broken leg for another month at least. Eddie was alive and whole and back to himself. They’d made it, everyone had made it.

He began to notice more and more things that were different as the days went on.

The first thing he caught on to was that he had the capability to be strong. Way stronger than someone who had recently been bed ridden should be. It was like in the comic books with the Hulk – if he wasn’t paying attention or if he got too emotional, he could easily break anything. A walkman destroyed, a ceramic bowl reduced to shards, a metal pipe bent beyond fixing, the wooden handle of a hammer shattered in his grip. The boys were all present for the hammer incident and sighted it as one of the coolest things they had ever seen. They swarmed him, asking him how he did it, what else he could do, how strong he really was.

Only the other teens, Steve, Nancy, Robin, you, started to look a little bit closer.

When the next few changes became apparent, it was clear something unnatural had happened to Eddie that night in the Upside Down. He could feel other people's feelings. They brushed against his consciousness like ghosts whenever he looked at someone. Happiness like warm rays of sunshine, fear like a shuddering gust of wind, anger like hot coals pressed to his skin. It wasn’t a conscious effort – in fact, there were a lot of times he wished he could turn it off. Whenever he looked too hard at someone, it’s like his brain adjusted to a different frequency and their emotions reached out to him, no matter what they were. And he didn’t struggle to make sense of the sensations like he thought he might, his brain completed the dots easily at first, but then he began to recognize them consciously. It was certainly useful sometimes, especially when it came to you, but it still felt a bit invasive. When he’d explained it to a few people, he assured he tried to ignore it whenever he could, but sometimes he couldn’t help but react. The icey spike of terror he felt when you woke up next to him from a nightmare. The velvet comfort that enveloped you and him when he held you after.

The first time he spoke into someone’s mind it was an accident. Steve had whipped toward him, breath catching in his chest, eyes wide and mouth open in a gasp. Eddie felt it like ice down his spine. “Did you… You did that?” He’d asked breathlessly. It had been so shocking, Eddie wasn’t even sure what’d he said, or projected, or whatever it was.

“I - I don’t know.”

Steve stepped closer, suddenly looking determined. “Try to do it again.”

It was a slithering feeling when he dipped back into Steve’s mind. Like sliding his way in between cracks to a place he didn’t belong, seeping into the forefront of his thoughts to plant one of his own. It made him feel dirty, uncomfortable, and wrong. But it worked. Steve explained it as having a thought like his own but it came out in Eddie’s voice instead. An intrusive thought but not an uncomfortable one.

As with all of the other discoveries, a meeting was called. Dustin, Mike, Lucas, Max, Will, El, Robin, Jonathan, Nancy, Steve, and you. Steve did most of the talking while Eddie sat and looked at his hands. These meetings, while he acknowledged were important for everyone to keep track of his progression into… something, it still made him feel a bit like a zoo animal in a cage. A magician with a magic trick. All the boys immediately begged him to do it to them, they wanted to see what it felt like, wanted to see how easy it was for him to do it. 

Nancy and Jonathan had shooed them, catching on to how overwhelmed Eddie was, their excitement and curiosity battering against him like a whipping wind of too much. Once it was just the older people in the room, you crossed over to where he was, kneeled down in front of him, reached out to hold his hand.

Pity felt like someone was pissing in his pants.

“Are you okay?”

How could he say no? How could he admit that he was scared, confused, and feeling more and more like a monster with the passing days? “It’s just a lot. To deal with.”

Your smile was pained as you pushed yourself up onto your calves and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. His came around your waist on instinct, the breath feeling like a wheeze in his lungs as he held tight. Face pressed into your hair with his eyes squeezed shut, he inhaled deep in relief.

That was when the next thing changed.

It was a desire. A need. One he couldn’t place a name to. Like he was desperately missing something, desperately craving something and he didn’t know it was. It crawled under his skin like ants and sent him scratching for a feeling that couldn’t be satiated. No matter what he tried: eating, drinking, masturbating, exercising. The feeling wouldn’t go away. It got stronger day after day, his mind focusing more and more on the void it left behind until it was all he could think about.

Steve threw a little get together at his house once a month or so. Just time for everyone to get together, eat some food, listen to music, play board games, maybe watch a movie. This was the first get together since his hunger began.

He was sitting on the couch on his own, decompressing. While normally he was right in the middle of everything, today it was a lot to handle when he was hyperfocused on the crawling beneath his skin. He had his legs spread wide, hands resting on them, leaning deep into the cushions of the couch in Steve’s basement. While he had initially tried to close his eyes, hang his head back, maybe stare at the ceiling – he couldn’t stop his attention from drifting back to you.

You and Eddie had been friends for a long time. Understandably, you’d gotten much closer after the events in March. The two of you had helped each other through hard nights of nightmares, panic attacks in parking lots, flashbacks in public. You’d been a great comfort to him since he came back. But today your laugh sounded like music. The smell of your perfume hit him even across the room. Each emotion crashed over him in waves, pushing and receding like the tide as he tried to get off your frequency, unentangle himself from you before he did something he didn’t mean to do.

I’m starving.

Your back stiffened, the grip on your plastic cup getting just a bit tighter. A moment of fear quickly shifted to mellowed surprise, curiosity. He’d never spoken into your mind before, hadn’t meant to do so now. But you still shifted, your eyes slowly coasting across the room until you caught sight of him on the couch.

A shock of electricity shot down his spine as you made eye contact, his hands tightening over his thighs in reaction. Unsure exactly what to do, he settled for projecting again. Slithered his way into your ears and settled a respectful distance from the area he’d never been brave enough to venture. Sorry, he offered with a wince, didn’t mean to.

What he didn’t expect was the utter flood of feeling that hit him next. Like a drip of warm honey settling into the space between his hips, pooling there in a subtle swirl as the warmth from it started to diffuse outward. You realized you’d been staring and your eyes flit away, but the feeling didn’t cease. In fact, it only got stronger. Your lower lip caught on your teeth as you shifted between your feet. Things that would be completely normal to see, wouldn’t have anyone looking twice, but Eddie could. Your desire. The want that poured from you like water when your eyes first met his.

Was this the first time? Had something changed between you and him? Or had he just never caught on before?

The ants beneath his skin began to vibrate as he narrowed in on the feeling, on you. Like the part of him that had slithered into your thoughts was now bearing down, digging in for purchase, wanting to stay awhile and feed on this new feeling, what you were offering. It didn’t even occur to him what he was doing, how invasive it might be, how wrong he normally would have felt. All he knew is that it felt like licking at the thing he’d been craving for so long and he was helpless to chase after it.

Sweetheart. It came easy as breathing now, teeth sunk into your consciousness from where you stood across the room. You whirled on him again, another flood of warmth hitting him deep as you leaned your hip against the counter you were standing next to and focused on him. What’s got you so worked up?

He couldn’t even consider how bold he was suddenly being, the fear that he might ruin this friendship well out of his grasp. Especially when your embarrassment spiked along with the want, the pool of warmth now suddenly coming to life to have a heartbeat of its own. Your eyes widened, shifting on your feet again as you broke eye contact. It only took a few moments before you couldn’t help but look back at him again. The buzzing settled further, now like a purr beneath his skin. It was bearable as long as you kept your eyes on him.

You wanna do something about it?

-

-

-

-

-

thanks for reading, please reblog and leave a comment if you liked it!

[stxrvel]

i don't wanna live forever (1)

summary: reader couldn't stop having deaths in her life ever since the Supersoldier serum came into her life. no matter how hard she tried to stay sane, it seemed that life didn't want to give her a break. until, one afternoon, she learned that one of her old friends was alive… (you guys know im bad at summaries, but please give this one a chance)

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

words: +4.5k

warnings: angst, major character deaths, canon deaths¿?, bad words, english is not my first language! thoughts of revenge and death, this is like an introductory chapter, so the buckyxreader interaction is low, but it'll get better, i promise!

note: holy fuck guys. i just spent like five hours writing and editing this and i fucking love it. its been a while since ive been this proud of a work, im actually scare the emotion will disappear, but i really want to rejoice in this one. i wanted to write something a little different from my usuals, maybe a little common in the fanfiction world, but i started and i simply could not stop (or maybe just approach this bucky fic from another perspective). so this is the first part and i'll try with all my heart to keep this going because it was fucking insane, at least for me. i really hope you all like this as much as i do! feel free to leave any comment! thanks always for all the support!! see you next time <3

part 2 ; part 3 ; part 4

When you went into the Supersoldier serum project with Steve, you thought you were going to change the world. Of course, at that time when technology was relatively new any invention felt like the beginning of a new era. That's how it was all sold to you and it was how you expected everything to turn out… Until you realized that it was all really a waste of effort and time.

They were just propaganda for war. Not to stop it, to promote it. To motivate it.

You tried, on several occasions, not to think too much about it. You tried to stay out of it as Steve sometimes asked you to, even though even he didn't want to, as Bucky asked you to when you lay on his shoulder to cry in the little time you had free between trips. It was a great burden of guilt and helplessness.

Until you and Steve, with the almost imposed help of Peggy and Howard, rescued Bucky from the evil hands of Johann Schmidt and his nefarious organization, HYDRA, that, unbeknownst to you, would haunt you for a long time to come. It was only after that, after spending several sleepless days on edge thinking about what might be happening to Bucky, that you and Steve were finally able to go out and contribute something. Destroy HYDRA and the Red Skull's plans.

Of course, you realized that not everything could go right when, the one mission you couldn't attend, Bucky didn't return. And then Steve didn't come back either.

“Do you think this will ever end?” you had asked Bucky the day before his last mission.

“Of course it will,” he had answered without hesitation, moonlight illuminating his clear eyes, squeezing your hand as if it was all he wanted to do for the rest of his life. “And after that we can begin to live as it should be.”

But there was no after that, because you never recovered from losing him. From losing them both.

“Are you okay?” Peggy approached, in the middle of the afternoon when the sun was streaming through the stained glass windows of the church, illuminating the spot where Steve's empty coffin had been, because they didn't even find his body. They didn't even think there was any of it left.

You barely moved your head to acknowledge her presence, moving the prayer slip they had recited throughout the mass between your hands. Your eyes were crystallized, in tears that no longer even made the effort to flow, because you had already spent too many days and nights crying. Peggy had been on the other side of the church, sitting next to Howard while the priest spoke, because you had refused to be near them in those moments. You didn't want to be near them.

“As well as one can be,” you slurred, finding that it had been a long time since you'd last used your voice for anything other than cursing and crying disconsolately.

The people had already left, probably an hour or more ago. The empty coffin had already been brought out, all the flower arrangements had been picked up, and the priest was preparing for the evening mass. You knew you had to leave, you knew Peggy and Howard were there waiting for you, but you felt stuck at that moment. You didn't want to leave, you didn't want to get ahead, you didn't want that life if it had to be this cruel.

You heard Peggy's sigh, before she took a seat next to you, a short distance away, averting her gaze to look at Christ on the cross.

You didn't know if you were selfish to be so closed off to your friends at this moments, because they must be grieving as much as you were, but you didn't know how to deal with the future possibilities. Bucky and Steve, great men and soldiers, one even with enhanced abilities, had not been able to make it through the punishment of war. What if Peggy and Howard were the same? What if they too had the cruel fate of dying at the hands of injustice? Could you deal with that? With everyone gone?

Maybe you could open up to them a little more because if not, who else? Turning away from them was not going to ensure their survival in this hate-filled society. Maybe you could protect them, like you couldn't protect Steve and Bucky. Maybe you could make a difference, because you had the chance to.

“You know,” Peggy spoke again, rearranging herself on the bench and crossing her legs, “Steve always knew this was how it would end.”

Her wistful, mournful, fragile voice sent a shiver through your body. Peggy didn't consider herself someone to show herself vulnerable in front of others no matter how close they were, even in those things that hurt her the most, in those things that affected her personally and made her eyes water instantly, she always tended to shut down. And at that moment you didn't dare interrupt her because you knew it would probably be the only time she would talk about Steve in a long time.

“Sometimes we'd talk, between tour trips, and he would tell me that wasn't what he wanted to do, even when he had to convince you otherwise,” her clasped hands would occasionally squeeze between words, blinking rapidly to fight back the tears. “He didn't know if he'd made the right decision.”

You could almost picture him, backstage at the foot of the stairs with that notebook he carried everywhere and wouldn't let go, Peggy at his side nostalgic, as helpless as the others. It reminded you of the times you'd had similar conversations with Bucky, desperate to find a purpose, a way through so much fog.

“The first time I saw him so sure of himself was when he asked us to help them look for Bucky,” she mumbled his name, as if trying not to scare you away by saying it too loudly. “Ever since then it seemed like he'd found that spark…”

“Until Bucky died,” you whispered, the words cutting through the cold and silence, Peggy shifting on the bench contritely.

“He lost something of himself from that day on, it wasn't hard to tell. The next time I heard him so sure after spending days lost, it was on that call from the plane.”

Peggy paused, raising her hand to cover her mouth as her voice faltered. You turned to look at her, wishing you could rip the pain from her soul and leave it in yours. She was trying to contain her emotions, breathing deeply, and in that moment you wondered what life might be like from now on, with the specter of grief following you around, waiting for the next time the dead knocked on your doors, unexpectedly, without allowing you to say goodbye.

“He had told me he wouldn't die in peace until he could get it all over with. And he took it all with him. And I hated him so much for it…” Peggy sobbed, her labored breathing standing out between words. She kept looking straight ahead at the stained glass windows, the expression on her face hard and scowling despite having tears rolling down her cheeks, as if she were trying to blame something for what had happened. Her reproachful eyes fixed on the Christ.

Her wails echoed through the walls of the church, the father on the dais sending them a look of sorrow. He had offered you water, thirty minutes after everyone at Steve's wake had left, when they kept walking, and you stood there.

Another empty casket.

“Ladies,” Howard's voice reached your ears amidst all the physical and emotional numbness. You could barely notice Peggy wiping under her eyes with the pocket square that was surely part of Howard's suit, as she took breaths to get up. “We should go now.”

You heard him walk, his slow, careful steps stopping just behind you. There, on his feet with his chest tight, he rested a hand on your shoulder and gave it a squeeze in support. He knew it was the most you would allow him at a time like this, deciding not to pass up the opportunity to let you know he was there. You sighed, feeling a heaviness take over your body as you stood up.

“Yeah, let's go.”

The next few months passed in a blur. Maybe too fast, maybe too slow, you weren't sure anymore.

Peggy continued to work at the Strategic Science Reserve for a couple of years, calling you from time to time to help her with some jobs. You kept a low profile, practically a fugitive from the state, while trying to live a halfway normal life in Europe. A lot of it thanks to Howard really.

Life had become a rather monotonous routine when you stopped getting so many calls from Peggy and Howard several years later. You knew they were fine, but not being able to return to the country filled you with anguish every day. And trying to lead a normal life became too complicated when you looked in the mirror and it seemed like not a single day had passed since you were in that capsule of Dr. Erskine's with Steve.

Until Peggy called one day asking you to come back. She told you that it was safe, that there would be no state officials waiting for you at the airport, but even if that had been the situation, you wouldn't have hesitated for a second to buy the first plane ticket and fly to see them again. To Howard and Peggy, to melt into an embrace, longing for the lost years.

You had thought that contributing to the fight in World War II had earned you a ticket to at least be recognized in the military, but all you gained was the government with their mad scientists looking for you to try to recreate the Supersoldier serum. Peggy didn't want to risk you and Howard gave you no choice by giving you a plane ticket to Finland with your bags packed.

You wasted many years not being by their side, unable to keep the promise you had made them in your head to be close by to protect them, to watch over their safety.

But when you left the airport there was only Peggy, and maybe that should've told you everything.

Her hair already looked gray, the effects of gravity and time present on her face. You hated to think that you shouldn't have looked any different from the way she saw you last time when she waved you off at that same airport. Her warm gaze was the same, raising her arms with held back tears to encircle you in a big hug. She tried hard not to sob against your shoulder, you felt the choppy movement of her breath against your chest.

She looked so different and the same at the same time.

You walked to her car a moment later, her trying to carry your suitcase and you telling her you were perfectly fine carrying it on your own. Amidst a smile, she walked into the driver's door and you frowned as you saw the empty passenger seat.

“Where's Howard?” you spoke as you sat down, after stowing the huge suitcase in the trunk of the car. The way you moved to buckle up, you didn't notice the way Peggy froze in place, her hands clenching the steering wheel so tightly that her breath hitched from the effort.

“We're going to see him,” was all she said, but she was very good at hiding that something was wrong. Only for a little while.

During the trip, even though you tried to ask things about them, about what they had been doing during this time, you didn't miss the way her shoulders were tense or her eyes very alert. Something bad had happened and Peggy was trying to hide it from you.

When she pulled up in front of a church, you already knew what had happened without her answering a single one of your questions.

Howard had died.

You two had sat next to Howard's son Tony, his spitting image, in complete silence as the prayers went on. At that moment you didn't know what had happened, hoping it had been a quiet and peaceful death, because you didn't know if you would be able to endure another violent death.

Peggy gave you all the details when the mass was over, after the coffin was taken away, and you hadn't felt such fury in so many years. Not since the deaths of Bucky and Steve had that adrenaline rush of anger returned to run through your body as violently as it did at that moment, when Peggy told you that he had been murdered along with his wife. All to steal some prototypes of Dr. Erskine's serum. The damned serums with which everything had started.

This time there was a body in the coffin, but there was also a culprit. Someone to point the finger at and take it out on for years of anguish and pain.

You were at Peggy's house, staying for a few days, when she told you that wasn't all.

Peggy had a suspicion that HYDRA hadn't disappeared when Steve crashed that plane into the ice. Her suspicions generated panic in you, because Bucky and Steve had died for that, now apparently Howard, only for it all to have been for nothing. The feeling of carnage that ran through your whole head made you nauseous, years of helplessness and pain pent up in such a small body had to find its way out somehow.

“It was a man, according to the information I've been able to gather,” Peggy spoke, taking a seat across from you in the dining room of her living room, after pouring you a glass of lemonade. “He didn't die from the crash. He had a concussion. He was hit in the head. His wife died from asphyxiation.”

“Does Tony know?”

“No,” Peggy shook her head quickly, one hand over her heart as if the mere thought caused her physical pain. “It didn't even occur to me to tell him something like that.”

“And he was looking for the serum,” you recalled, a bitter feeling planted in the back of your throat, the memories of the disastrous times during the war coming back into your head like a blinding flash.

“He took them. We don't know who he is or who he works for, but whoever they are, they must have been following us for a long time to know about them.”

“You mean years,” you arched an eyebrow, your fingers touching the cool exterior of the glass seeking some reassurance.

“Possibly. That project isn't recent,” Peggy nodded, drinking her lemonade with a grimace. You stared at the liquid almost finished from her glass, a wrinkle forming between your brows with each passing second and you kept wondering why.

“But what the fuck was going through that asshole's head?” you spat angrily. Rage at already the amount of lives that serum had taken with it and at Howard's recklessness. Rage at the reaper who seemed to be following in their footsteps for some reason, rage at that damn man and whoever his damn boss was.

“It was the only option, Y/N,” Peggy turned her gaze, meeting your eyes with a strange glint.

“What do you mean?” you were almost afraid to ask, your friend's gaze suddenly turning evasive. You watched her run her fingernails over the glass of the tumbler, lost for a moment in thought. The way her shoulders slumped forward in defeat caused a pressure in your chest that made it hard to breathe. Peggy shouldn't be going through these things at this point in life.

“Howard was working with the Pentagon, as a contractor or something. They had found you. Howard felt cornered and they made him sign an agreement.”

With your incredulous look on her face, Peggy didn't dare look back at you for a few seconds. So much had happened since you had left and it seemed that you had only been told about the things you weren't going to care about so much. But if you had known that you wouldn't have cared much about giving some of the state officials their comeuppance. You would've liked Howard to trust you enough to tell you, not live in as much fear behind his back as the last few years must've been. You didn't like the way Peggy's lips curved downward, as if she, too, would've preferred to make another decision had she known this was how it was going to end.

“Howard assured them that he could recreate the serum, and told them he would as long as they left you alone.”

“Fucking asshole…” you closed your eyes, scrubbing your face with your hands. The rough skin of your hands rubbed against the delicate skin of your face, years of combat and mistreatment foreseeing a harshness that reminded you every day of what you'd had to go through to get to that moment.

“I only found out about it after it happened. I didn't see it for like a whole week,” Peggy shook her head slightly, her eyes glistening in the pain of the memories. You shook your head hard, a more violent reaction than you could have anticipated.

“That stupid… stupid asshole! What the fuck made him think I couldn't defend myself?”

“He was trying to do the right thing,” Peggy finally searched your eyes, meeting the red rims that told her you were holding back too hard breaking in front of her, only using that pain mixed with rage to keep you sane.

“And look how that turned out!”

Peggy stretched her hand across the table, with a pleading look asking you to lower your voice, averting her gaze to the hallway. You followed her gaze, for a second forgetting where you were, forgetting that her family was with you behind the doors where you were plunged into darkness. It was past midnight.

You took a second to calm yourself, trying to drown out the uncontrolled emotions and taking deep breaths to calm your fluttering heart.

“And if what you theorize is true…” you regretted the moment those words left your mouth; you didn't even want to finish the sentence.

“Do you think it is?”

“I don't want to,” you shook your head instantly, closing your eyes, the thought sounding illogical inside your head. Your hands on your chest trying to contain the storm of feelings that was making chaos inside your head. “That would mean that everything we did, everything Bucky, Steve and Howard did and sacrificed, was in vain. It will all have been in vain.”

You spent several weeks with that thought in your head, working hand in hand with Peggy, and the organization you barely knew as SHIELD, to track down the whereabouts of the killer of Tony's parents and the one responsible because the Supersoldier's serums were, surely, in the wrong hands.

And yes, it was many years of fruitless missions and dead ends, with you running every field mission and Peggy calling the shots from the New York facility. Every time you felt close to discovering something, it seemed that the enemy rejoiced in your failures and still couldn't understand how they were always three steps ahead.

However, you had to leave the missions when Peggy became ill.

The silent, lethal Alzheimer's.

During the first months in the hospital, she still recognized you. She also recognized her husband and children. But after the first year, she frowned every time her children walked through the door. After a year and a half, her husband had to remind her that they had been married for about forty years.

After two years, she was still only remembering you, Howard, Steve and Bucky. Her whole life during her time in the army was all you talked about, sometimes you would tell her how much more time had passed than she remembered and always, without fail, she would ask you how much you had done in Europe for so long by yourself.

She cried every time she remembered Howard's death. She cried every time she remembered her children. Out of her mouth came a thousand apologies that no one would accept, because there was nothing anyone could do to prevent what had to happen. You wished she had been a serum test subject instead of you.

For several years, missions to find Tony's parents killer were sporadic because you spent more time around Peggy than at the SHIELD facility. She was the only thing you had left of everything you'd ever had, of when you held the world in your hands. She was the last thing keeping you tethered to that reality, keeping madness from flooding your reason. How could you have so many years ahead of you when that was all you had to live for? A life full of the dead, full of pain and suffering. What kind of karma were you paying for?

You were leaving the SHIELD facility, after another failed mission, when Nick Fury stopped you in front of the exit. You almost rolled your eyes right under his watchful gaze, tired of having to meet him anywhere, and exhausted from his comments about this vengeance project or whatever he wanted you to be a part of.

You still didn't know how, being such an exemplary agent, Coulson had fallen into his nets.

“Miss L/N,” the man stopped you with his words, his hands behind his back and a tense stance that caught your attention.

“Fury,” you nodded in his direction, hoping he'd be quick because you were running late for your weekly visit with Peggy. “Do you need anything?”

“I'd like you to come with me somewhere,” Fury approached tentatively, his one eye fixed on your wary expression, which shifted to boredom the moment you thought you knew what he wanted.

“If this is about that project, I've told you a thousand times-”

“No,” he interrupted you, moving forward and removing his hands from behind his back. “It's not related to that. I really want you to come with me.”

“You look agitated, but I need-”

“I'll take you to see Peggy myself after this.”

You didn't like that he knew your routine, even though you weren't doing enough to hide it from the other agents. But Fury looked nervous, even though he was hiding it very well, trying to keep his cool as he looked for ways to convince you.

You figured it wouldn't be a big deal for you to go off the deep end for once. After all, Peggy never remembered you were going to see her.

You set off in Fury's armored vans, not quite sure where you were going, but sure that it was urgent, because he had taken it upon himself to let his driver know that you had to get there as soon as possible.

You took that time on the trip to come up with a new strategy for the next mission because what you were doing up to that point wasn't working and you felt too close to throwing in the towel, figuratively speaking. You could spend years following a ghost, but you wouldn't give up on finding Howard and Maria's killer.

Before the car pulled up to one of SHIELD's secret sections, they passed the giant, imposing Stark Tower. You never saw Tony again after that time at his parents' funeral, not even during his visits to Peggy because you always made it a point not to cross him. You didn't think you'd be able to look him in the eye while you knew his parents had been killed without being able to tell him. You had promised Peggy in her lucid moments that you wouldn't tell him anything until you could find the culprit. You didn't want to initiate that pain if it had to be kept repressed, as yours once was, and probably still is. You had learned, some time after the funeral, that he was living with Edwin Jarvis, and you were glad to know that he would have good companionship to keep him company in such hard times.

Fury, a handful of agents and you entered the vans through the entrance to what appeared to be the parking lot of an old warehouse. Upon entering, the first thing you noticed was the number of armed agents that seemed to be guarding the place, not at all discreet to how SHIELD used to do things. You weren't sure if Peggy would authorize something like that, but you couldn't question the Director's decisions. It wasn't your place.

“What's going on here?” you frowned, watching as every meter there was another agent and another agent. You got out of the car without waiting for an answer from Fury, moving directly toward the entrance where most of the agents were concentrated. You barely noticed their looks in contradiction, running their eyes over you and then over the man trying to catch up to you, dubious as to whether or not they should move. “Move.”

“Wait,” Fury's voice stopped the command in the agents, who turned back to look at you as you sent Fury a confused look.

“What's all this mystery, Nicholas?” the man startled almost discreetly at your tone of voice, the agents stirring uncomfortably, but kept the serene expression that was getting on your nerves. “What the fuck did you do?”

“We got a call from the Arctic.”

“From the Arctic?”

You tried to ignore the way the hairs on your neck instantly stood up, your body alerting you to something your mind still couldn't comprehend. You felt like a deer face to face with a predator, expecting the worst.

“The Colonel informed us of something that might interest us,” Fury's cryptic voice echoed in your ears, drowning out the flicker of uncertainty vibrating from your head to your toes. “They found a plane.”

You didn't even answer him. Your heart began to pound wildly, cornered, ready to have your head bitten off. The tension in your shoulders intensified, with the involuntary movement of your hands as you broke into a cold sweat. The mere implication of his words caused an emptiness in your stomach, a sense of longing and fear you hadn't felt before.

You looked at Fury, trying to find in his gaze the gleam of a lie, but there was nothing there but assurance. There was nothing but recognition and understanding in his gaze, but that didn't make the emptiness in your stomach and the tight chest go away. It didn't make the feeling of being outside your body go away.

You barely remembered to move in the direction of the door, the agents instantly moving out of your way, pushing it so hard that one of them flew out. You moved your eyes around every corner of the room, the cream-colored walls generating a great repulsion in you. And there, in the midst of all the confusion and the storm, a confused and disgruntled face looked back at you. A face you never thought you would see again.

Steve Rogers was standing a few feet away from you, barely comprehending what was happening around him and instantly recognizing you. Your chest compressed once again, the tears you held back for so many years even in your loneliness making their own way into your eyes, endangering to end that mask you wore everywhere you went.

Steve was actually there, looking back at you with his eyes shining in recognition. You didn't know if he was as surprised as you were to react or you looked so bad that he didn't know if he should approach you or not. You just knew it was him, it really was him right there in front of you. He wasn't dead. Steve wasn't dead. He was alive. Ah, he was so alive.

The broken sob that suddenly left you was loud enough to make your friend shed his stupefaction and stride over to where you were. You barely managed to cover your face, between sobs, wails and disbelief, feeling your knees give out, surrendering to the weight of the pain, when his strong arms grabbed your shoulders before you hit the floor. Preventing your fall, as you had wished so many times before.

You cried against his shoulder, when feeling him against your body you knew there was no doubt it was true. You moved your hands away from your face, wrapping them around his waist as tightly and lovingly as you hadn't hugged anyone in so long. Surely the last time you hugged someone like that was when you saw Peggy on your way back from Europe.

Steve wasn't far behind, his arms around your shoulders just as tightly, his chin against the crown of your head, moving from side to side trying to hold back the loud sobs that shook your body.

You couldn't believe it, but it was true, he was right in front of you.

Steve was alive. He had come back to your side. You didn't even want to ask why.

And there was nothing else you could think about for the rest of your life.

[lovemyromance]

How tf are there still antis saying they don't know how Elriel counts as a forbidden romance??

1. Rhys literally forbade Azriel from seeing Elain

2. Elain is mated to someone else. She and Lucien may not even want each other, but that bond is something that is highly regarded by many and rejecting the bond could come with political consequences

That is the definition of forbidden romance. When you have external factors preventing you from being with another 🙄

And I know the antis go around saying " Well, it's just Rhys nobody cares what he thinks" and "if Elriel got together it would be fine"

Rhys is a HL. He rules over the NC, including Azriel and Elain. I suspect they will disobey him, but their romance isn't just as cut and dry as if they simply decide to be together so there are zero consequences.

There is an explicit order, mating bond, and politics / blood duel at play here. All are consequences from their potential relationship.

You know who actually has zero consequences and the world would probably rejoice (minus Elain and Azriel... and Nesta) if they got together? Elucien.

Next.

Then there's the antis who go on to say "well forbidden romance is gross! If they aren't doing something wrong, then why hide it! It means Elain is cheating on Lucien!"

They're hiding it because, again .... Rhys explicitly forbade Azriel.

Elain is not cheating on Lucien because they are not in a relationship, nor have made any commitment to each other out of their own free will.

Next.

"oh but Azriel deserves to be loved and not have to hide it! He deserves a love he doesn't need to hide away"

Yes, he does. And one day, he and Elain will be together in broad daylight (in front of sunshine hehe) because they're endgame.

But right now, let me introduce you to my friend Angst. I'm sure you've met them before, when you make your headcanons about Elucien & Gwynriel experiencing obstacles because they actually have nothing preventing them from getting together! It's rude to pretend you don't know someone, especially Angst in a capital-Love Story.

Next.

"SJM doesn't write forbidden romance!"

Too late, she already did when she had Elriel almost kiss in the hallway and then had Rhys explicitly forbid them.

Next.

"Well I think forbidden romance is a childish trope and -"

Bp-bp-bpp imma stop you there ma'am. 🖐️😌

If you don't like it... don't read it! It's as simple as that.

I'm sorry to inform you that your personal opinions on tropes you like/dislike did not make it into SJM's editing room 😩. She's set up Elriel for 3 books now and until the BC, we didn't know what trope they'd fall under but after the BC, it's clear: Forbidden Romance is happening.

Next.

Don't believe me?

Read that again. Sounds like Rhys is forbidding Azriel from getting with Elain isn't he?

Now, just based on what we know about the Spymaster of the NC - do we think this man's is about to follow orders? Especially when he's disobeyed them before?

Show of hands please 😌 Anyone genuinely believe Azriel will tuck his tail between his legs and scamper off, following Rhys's order to the T and refusing to even speak to Elain forever until death?

Didn't think so.

[lyralit]

4.1.24 - the importance of learning new things

As much as I think academic & work focus is incredibly important going into the new year, one of my other goals is to practice doing more: to learn all of the things I want to do, in addition to work, in addition to writing. I want to know how to do thousands of little things, and I think the longer we wait, the less likely we are to do them.

Picking up a new hobby doesn't have to be buying a dozen textbooks and spending hundreds of dollars on lessons because you might have the slightest interest: it can be from whatever you have here, now, and you'll never learn if you don't get started.

Some of the things I've been getting into (as I've mentioned before) are baking & crocheting. it just feels so cozy and nice & I love the idea of comfort.

here is a list of things I want to / you should try that's new!

learning a new language. fifteen minutes a day, I kid you not. I'm learning latin on duolingo and I don't ever think about it, but when I do it (25 day streak 💪🏻), I'm starting to notice my improvements

consuming good media. and that's not scrolling for half an hour on tumblr. it's books—deep ones and silly ones and ones about romance and dragons and apocalypses. it's movies! I watched keira knightley's pride and prejudice twice in the last few months, and also three men and a baby which is something I never thought I would watch, but it was quite funny I think. and I learn from it: I cannot write humour or romance for the life of me, so it's basically studying to write (is the self-gaslighting too evident?)

learning to crochet. I made a silly little headband today, after scrolling through pinterest and desperately wanting one. I started crocheting in december to give as gifts (I completed none of my wips, much like when I write) and used the tools I had around me: an old rainbow loom hook and whatever string I could find. now I'm proud to say I can read somewhat fluently crochet acronyms.

baking. I keep saying this. I know. but when I tell you a two years ago I was exploding cupcakes in the oven and last month I made bakery-style cookies...I made bread! a loaf of bread! (in a bread machine, but it's so good and I instantly made another. there is one in the bread machine right now). honestly it just made me feel that much better about improvement, and trying new things, and that is the mindset I want for the new year.

learning to code. in all honesty, I never thought I was a compsci - engineer kind of person. then this year, out of sudden (masterminded) urges, I joined a bunch of tech and robotics initiatives, and maybe it's the sense of community (I can rejoice in finding another nerdy group) but now I am happily chauffeuring myself to these meetings 4h a week. I'm looking into pursuing more into the fields of eng and science. and I'm learning some code from one of the friends I've made!

starting a blog. ...I know most of the people who linger around my blog stay for the writing content (the last posts have turned this writerblr into a digital diary, and I'm only half sorry for that). but since I've joined tumblr (almost three years ago now!) I've got to meet so many wonderful people (including you!) and want to try so many things.

and I get it. it's overwhelming. so here are some starting goals that maybe I'll try also.

start doing art. -> make a card for someone as a gift.

learn a new sport & start exercising. (I'm trying out track & field in the spring, so stay tuned to figure out how that goes) -> see if someone will come play ball with you. do 1 or 2 youtube workout videos a week.

film videos of your daily life. it doesn't need to be for posting! -> edit together clips you've taken for a last year recape.

start a scrapbook. -> print out photos and dig up construction paper. decorate a page.

make a poetry journal. -> go on pinterest to read poetry! pin styles you like and set fifteen minutes to writing.

make a regular journal! -> write once a day. just try: goals for the day in the morning, or a recap at night.

try your hand at gardening. -> research plants that grow well in your region. see if any of the seeds you may have at home are useful. water your lawn. buy a plant and try to keep it alive (set reminders, leave it in front of your sink)

learn to make candles. -> watch a youtube tutorial. see if you can play around with candles you already have.

play chess. -> see if someone will play chess with you. no? chess.com is right there. go make an account. go find a stranger.

learn to play an instrument off youtube. -> maybe you have a piano sitting around, or a guitar you've never touched. you don't even need to master it. pick a song you like and google that. no instrument? maybe there's a way to play drums with home items.

go for a run. -> once a week. a set time. just shoes and the outdoors. too cold? go to a gym and use a treadmill. maybe that's not possible? skip rope.

start / join a book club. -> just you, or some close friends, or people online. a book a month. talk about it.

** on that note, would anyone like to join a tumblr book club? slide into my asks and maybe we can get a blog list!

thank you for reading again <3 until next time.

k.

[rapha-reads]

Things from Interview With The Vampire s02e04 (ep11) I noticed:

[Edit 1: Actually this turned into a live-commenting, sorry]

[Edit 2: Keep in mind, I haven't read the books, so all of these observations are born from the show itself and the few (lots of) spoilers and narrative plot points I've gleaned here and there.]

Both Claudia and Louis are so bored with the coven. Or maybe bored isn't the word, but... Done? Frustrated and annoyed? Restless? Louis because he never intended to join and so cares not all for all their internal affairs. Claudia because she thought she'd finally have the life she wanted and instead is being forced to relive the tragedy of her life day after day.

And Armand rejoices in drawing them further apart, scolding and punishing Claudia while begging scraps from Louis.

And he's soooo jealous. The face he makes when Louis starts explaining what Dreamstat feels like is priceless.

Also, personal theory: either Louis is indeed suffering psychotic breaks after psychotic breaks, or just manifesting his own version of Lestat because he doesn't want to let go. Or Lestat can astral project and has been stalking Louis from the moment they left New Orleans.

The coven is tearing itself apart. And normally I'd add "and Armand isn't even seeing it/taking it seriously yet" but given that the whole of them are unreliable narrators and that Armand is a shady ass bitch whose only agenda is himself, I'd say he's well aware and purposefully making it worse.

I can't make sense of Santiago yet, though. Is he jealous? Ambitious? Is he fond of Claudia? Does he hate her? He definitely hates Louis, but is it just jealousy or real antipathy? Oh, but Louis is still my precious special kitten and that speech about Paris, art and modernity, as a contemporary culture student, made me vibrate a little out of my chair, and Santiago clowning him makes me want to claw his face. We get it, you hate him and you think he's pretentious, now can you shut up and let us talk a bit more about the art scene in Paris post-WW2 and why Louis is absolutely right, Picasso isn't all that impressive in the end? Thanks. Bacon tho, Bacon is interesting. My contemporary art teacher last year was excruciatingly boring, but he had a boner for both Louise Bourgeois and Bacon and we spent several hours on them (and not nearly enough about Mapplethorne, alas). Anyway. I feel ya, Lou. I have been called pretentious too for simply getting excited about art, culture and folkore.

I'm rooting for Louis and Claudia to kill them all off and run away to Italy. I know it won't happen, but one can dream, eh.

Is Armand messing up with both Daniel by getting into his mind and Louis by switching the photos? Interesting. Two people who have a shitton of issues stuck with a sadistic, insecure and bitter control freak who's been pulling the threads since way before anyone realises. And Louis is so lost in his trauma and grief and anger, he trusts Armand and doesn't see what's happening and been happening to him for 70 years, while Daniel is just a sad, sick old man who thinks he knows his life and what his future entails. Armand is definitely having fun.

"Je n'aime pas fenêtre quand fermée" is NOT FRENCH, MY EARS. I will be picky, I don't care for artistic licence. Correct sentence would be "je n'aime pas les fenêtres quand elles sont fermées". Admittedly, if it goes into a song, you'd have to respect the length of the line and all those musical measures. But still. You could shorten the numbers of syllables by dropping the language register: "j'aime pas les f'nêtres quand elles sont fermées" ; from 12 or 13 to 9, the original line being 8 or 9. Depending on whether you say "je-n'ai-me-pas" or "je-n'aim-pas" and "fe-nê-tres" or "fe-nêtres". Anyway. I'm sure the writers had those discussions (I hope; hey, AMC, hire me, I'm a good proofreader and I speak 5 languages).

Me: oh, Louis isn't even bothering now, he's directly talking to... Wait, is Lestat eating that photo? If it's Dreamstat: the hell is going on in your head, Louis? If it's Astral Lestat: that is certainly a choice, my friend.

"Barely Balthasar", LMAO, Lestat I fucking love you. Poor Balthasar always gets forgotten in adaptations. Nope, we're not here to talk R&J, moving on.

Armand: "this is my tragic backstory. Feel pity for me. I'm the good guy." Me: yeaaah, how much of this is actually real? And, uh, no, like Lestat said: ha! You're a storyteller and a conman, Armand. You weave your story to pluck at the heart's threads of your audience, modulating it to their sensibilities to better serve your own interests and your plans. What are those interests, these plans? Hell if I know. But I absolutely do not trust you at all.

HANDS OFF CLAUDIA OR I'LL BITE

"The wilderness that is our daughter" have I said lately how much I love Lestat.

Oh, hello, the Loustat scene on the bench just broke my heart, which is funny if you consider that that's just Louis breaking up with himself. Also, do we consider Louis knew about the initials in the pocket, and Dreamstat is saying what Louis wants him to say, or is it another unreliable narrator Louis, or is it Lestat himself...?

Aw, going from the Loumand scene on the bench to "toxic gay divorce with body count" sure is a tonal shift. Lmao. You're losing your touch, Armand. Louis' awakening. Daniel's awakening... San Francisco next, that will be fun. Excited to see how they've changed that part, knowing it's the red thread of the first book.

...

Oooh, that got long. Apologies. I really need to sit and read those books.

[starlightwoofwoof]

Do you have any other akumatized villain/victim designs for the smxmlb au?

Y E S I D O A C T U A L L Y -

honestly one of the main reasons I made this AU lol

soooooo I made edits of them cause I didn’t really feel like drawing them (except for Sweetener, I kinda had to draw him) but ye- HERE WE GO THIS MIGHT BE LONG BECAUSE I WANNA EXPLAIN A LOT OF THINGS ABOUT THEM

okay, first of all, of course I did the main characters, ✨ these little sh!ts ✨

These are Scratch and Punk, The Spooky Kids

okie so I think I might do a list of things for these guys lol

Reason for Akumatization : okay I have two ideas, we can go the goofy route and make them fight over a piece of Halloween candy from, like, 5 years ago- (or we can go the darker/more serious route and make it have to do something with like what happened in SM6)

Corrupted Item : That piece of candy- (or something else for the other route, not sure)

Fun Facts :

They got akumatized together

You might think they’re still in costumes, BUT NO THEY’RE R E A L

Their powers are making people do the Spooky Dance and celebrate Spooky Month .. FOR E T E R N I T Y

okay, next up, we have THE HAT BOYS ‼️‼️‼️

Rage, Regret and Rejoice (there’s no yellow lol), The Emotiongang

Reason for Akumatization : The trio were having a sleepover, until Ross and Roy had a fight about .. actually I haven’t really thought about it, probably something about Roy’s parents- (Robert didn’t even realize the situation until it was too late)

Corrupted Item : Ross’s beanie (idk why his specifically but ye-)

Fun Facts :

They also all got akumatized together

yes they’re inspired by those theatre masks-

Regret and Rejoice’s mouths on their masks can’t move, although, Rage’s can

honestly, I’m not even sure if I can call Rejoice a villain, he’s just happy to be here- (no thoughts, head empty)

They can produce auras from themselves of their respected emotions, making people around them feel the emotions they’re producing (Regret and Rage don’t like Rejoice’s powers since they mess up with their negative emotions, and evil plans-)

Next, we have the villain which I showed in the introduction post, K e v i n

The Sweetener

Reason for Akumatization : probably something Kevin-usual, him being angry about his job

Corrupted Item : His work hat

Fun Facts :

His powers are kinda scary- he has a bunch of candy, obviously, but they’re not normal candy. As soon as you eat one of his candies, you slowly turn into one of his candy minions and follow him wherever he goes, like some kind of zombie (whatever that means-)

I’m not sure what he is honestly, like obviously he’s a candy monstrosity, but idk if that’s gum, some weird form of cotton candy or even ice cream-

He is a BIIIIIIIIIGGGGGG BOI

He can speak, but he usually just roars, growls and groans most of the time

I kinda wanted to name him ‘The Candyman’ but I thought that was too basic sooooo The Sweetener was my next best idea-

And finally, the last one (for now-), we have Rad :D

The Glitch

Reason for Akumatization : .. I have no clue to be honest, Radford is such a happy guy, but ye-

Corrupted Item : His funky 3D glasses

Fun Facts :

His powers are being able to go in and out of screens (kinda like Prime Queen) and I like to think he can also possess people, like a ghost-

He is still a pretty happy guy, just more like the insane kind of happy-

man all I can think about is the Sonic Adventure 2 Dub (Hero Story) video where Eggman kept calling himself The Glitch- (watch me make a funny animatic thing soon lol)

OKAY THAT’S ALL OF THEM- (obviously I really want to make more, I just haven’t had many ideas, BUT MAN I WANNA MAKE AN AKUMA! STREBER SO BADLY- I know I can just make him vampire themed but still, I wanna make him more than that for some reason-)

Feel free to ask (or suggest, especially with Glitch’s backstory-) anything about them okie see you lateeeeeerrrrrrrr :3

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

Blessed Are the Forgiven

A Maskil of David.

1 Blessed is the one whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered. 2 Blessed is the man against whom the Lord counts no iniquity, and in whose spirit there is no deceit.

3 For when I kept silent, my bones wasted away through my groaning all day long. 4 For day and night your hand was heavy upon me; my strength was dried up as by the heat of summer. Selah

5 I acknowledged my sin to you, and I did not cover my iniquity; I said, “I will confess my transgressions to the Lord,” and you forgave the iniquity of my sin. Selah

6 Therefore let everyone who is godly offer prayer to you at a time when you may be found; surely in the rush of great waters, they shall not reach him. 7 You are a hiding place for me; you preserve me from trouble; you surround me with shouts of deliverance. Selah

8 I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go; I will counsel you with my eye upon you. 9 Be not like a horse or a mule, without understanding, which must be curbed with bit and bridle, or it will not stay near you.

10 Many are the sorrows of the wicked, but steadfast love surrounds the one who trusts in the Lord. 11 Be glad in the Lord, and rejoice, O righteous, and shout for joy, all you upright in heart! — Psalm 32 | English Standard Version (ESV) The Holy Bible, English Standard Version. ESV® Text Edition: 2016. Copyright © 2001 by Crossway Bibles, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers. Cross References: Genesis 19:16; Genesis 24:48; Exodus 15:1; Leviticus 26:40; Judges 5:1; Ruth 1:13; Job 30:11; Psalm 7:10; Psalm 18:16; Psalm 22:1; Psalm 25:8; Psalm 31:10; Psalm 46:1; Psalm 64:10; Matthew 6:12; John 1:47; Acts 13:11; Romans 2:9; Romans 4:7-8; 2 Corinthians 5:19; James 3:3; 1 John 1:9

[a-cure-for-hysteria]

A RANT ABOUT PARTY DRUGS AND PSYCHIATRIC DRUGS

(Expect little cohesion, don’t want to edit this after writing)

Another thing about medicine (both psychiatric and otherwise) is the lies we - collectively - tell ourselves about them. After seeing Dopesick on HBO, even my most conservatives relatives would agree that it’s “such a shame about that girl” and “who’s to say we wouldn’t end up like that with her life”. Basic empathy - finally - but bear with me.

The characters in Dopesick are pretty much fine until they are so tolerant or have been on Oxy so long that no doctor is willing to prescribe more. Then, they’re off to the streets, doing anything they can for oxy, heroin, later fentanyl. The only thing they had in common was some sort of injury happen to them, and a doctor sponsored by Purdue Pharma.

Personally, I have (due to a long list of diagnoses, of which none have been revoked as I got new ones, for some reason) automatically renewed prescriptions in almost all the drug categories. I have amphetamines, cannabinoids, zolpidem, pregabalin and benzodiazepines. If I ask nicely and have a good reason, I get Oxy too - luckily for me, my body has some sort of allergic reaction to opioids, so addiction is unlikely.

However, my cornucopia of legally prescribed substances is a constant, looming threat to my continued well-being, made even more so by the fact that I need them to survive. I just have to NOT go overboard. Sometimes that’s easy, sometimes it’s hard.

I’m 30-something now. I live a pretty calm life - child free with cats and a loving partner, somewhere in rural Northern Europe. Before that, I partied hard. I’ve tasted all the substances for fun (and later; out of social necessity) and let me tell you - the effect I get from a rail of amphetamine snorted from a CD cover at 02:47 AM on a Wednesday, at a party (three tweakers in a dirty apartment) I’d never attend sober… that clear, ready feeling, it’s the same as what I get from 60 mg of Vyvanse each morning.

“People with real ADHD don’t get high from their meds!” you might say. Your ignorance is forgiven. There is so much we don’t know about the brain, about ADHD (if it’s even ONE thing and not several, if it’s generic or trauma or both) and let me tell you - me being high on my meds IS what makes me do the dishes. Go to work. Remember how my partner feels before I take all the dinner scraps without asking if they’ve eaten. I am high. I have taken speed at parties and I know. Every day, I know.

There is no inherent difference between the speed you do at a party and the speed your doctor gives you. Sometimes prescribed speed is tied up with lysine, making you wait an hour before it kicks. Sometimes you get BAD speed at parties - levoamphetamine and not dextroamphetamine. Sometimes it’s cut with bad stuff. But - it’s the same. It’s the same it’s the same it’s the same.

I am as addicted as the guy living under the bridge. However, I get to call it meds and everyone is so happy about my go-getter attitude at work, and how I am a valuable asset to the company. My partner rejoices upon learning I now do my half of the chores. My mom says I seem happier, more well-adjusted. A friend tells me she considered just leaving me alone because I never seemed to get my shit together, but now my shit IS together. Nice!

I recently upped my dose from 30 to 2 x 30 mg Vyvanse. No problem - it even says so on the prescription that I can. I’ve been taking out two boxes at the pharmacy every month, but haven’t taken the correct dose since I started. I just didn’t need to, except now and then on stressful days. Now I need 60 mg, and it doesn’t even feel like 30 did in the start. What happens when 60 is no longer enough for me to feel the high that allows me to get anything done? And, am I lying to myself? Would 30 have been fine? I need, need, need the clear, ready feeling. And I need to get shit done. I need people to be happy with me.

Yes, that’s it. I need people to be happy around me. Is there a rehab for that?

[bridgeportbritt]

We're back for another edition of SimDonia Style Through the Years! You may have remembered a post I did not too long ago which showed how SimDonia style has evolved throughout history. Well, we're diving back in for a part 2 where explore more looks and the lore around them!

Before the Revolution

As mentioned in the last post, women had to wear modest clothing. Fully covered, long dresses, with their hair up, no matter the class due to Bella Goths desire to be best dressed in the land. SimDonians (at the time called Pendites) did not have access to the outside world, so even though modern fashions/technology/etc. were becoming prevelant, Pendites were intentionally kept in the dark.

The biggest fashion difference between classes is the working class didn't get access to the nice fabrics that the wealthy classes did. Working women tended to their families, gardens, homes and often had jobs doing the same for the wealthy women. Wealthy women lived lives of leisure as their husbands had jobs in government or other high powered roles.

During the Revolution

The best way to rebel for women was to wear shorter lengthed and sleeved dresses or even wear their hair down. Some would go as far as to practice Jacoban openly (which was banned) as seen in Look #4. You could spot if a wealthy woman was supportive of the revolution the same way. Though, many found ways to play both sides by wearing off the shoulder sleeve dresses that could quickly be brought up or down depending on their company.

During the revolution, working women supported their husbands who were fighting but some fought themselves, as well. Wealthy women also tried to support their high powered husbands and keep their help away from the revolution as they didn't want status quo to change. Many were stuck between wanting to keep the hostility away from them and wanting to keep their money and power.

After the Revolution

Once the war was over, wealth became better distributed as the new government tried to build a better society by the people for the people. Nations started embracing Pendites (Now officially known as SimDonians) and rejoicing from the end of threat of war from the power hungry Goths. It was a new day in terms of both society and fashion.

Working women finally had access to fine fabrics and colors. Many working women especially those with husbands in the war, moved up in terms of wealth and were able to find better jobs in the new society or saw higher pay for their old jobs. Depending on which side their husbands were on in the war, some wealthy classes fled after the death of the Goths while others on the right side were able to hold on or even gain more wealth and even power. In terms of fashion, women felt the need to differentiate themselves by dressing more lavishly than the working class.

The Experimental Phase

Over the years, the government was establishing itself, borders were opening, and modern society has began making its way to SimDonia. More and more people were prospering, getting an education, being paid fairly for their work. During this phase, people were finally free to travel and explore other countries, especially to get an education.

What we saw happen was styles from all over the simverse get brought back to SimDonia especially from more advanced societies like Simerica (Look #2,3, and 7), Komorebi (Look #1 part of 4, 6), Sulani (Look #4), and Kiwa Bonde (Look #8). While seemingly harmless in practice, looking back it was clear SimDonians were appropriating these styles which eventually blended into the modern fashion we see today.

Present Day

Today, SimDonia has caught up to modern societies at a fast pace thanks to establishing a government passionate about being progressive and effective, plus other nations coming together to assist the newly formed nation securing foreign bonds.

In terms of fashion, SimDonia is a melting pot of different cultures, trends, and styles. The difference in class is harder to spot through dress with styles reaching both and varying based on personal style instead. SimDonia is currently on its way to become a fashion capital of the simverse as new designers and the fashion industry continues to grow.

[gaypiece]

Another Life; Ch 2

Part 2 of my OP isekai bullshit daydream! I am always open to feedback!!! I’m half asleep posting this so i may come back and edit cws and description

Ch1 // Ch3

Chapter 2: The Surgeon of Death

☁︎ word count: 3.5k

☁︎cw: named self insert, bit of anxiety

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Consciousness came back to me slowly. I was vaguely aware of a steady beeping sound nearby. This confused me. I was sure I had died, and I didn’t think the afterlife would sound like a hospital. My eyes fluttered, cracking open lethargically. The lights above me were bright, and I could tell that I was indoors somewhere. My head turned to the sound of the beeping, silently rejoicing the fact that I was able to move again. There was a monitor to my left, displaying my heart rate and other information my foggy brain didn’t care to make sense of.

”Good, you’re awake.”

I would have jumped in surprise, had I not been so sluggish. But, did I know that voice? I turned to find the source. He stood with his back to me, writing something on a clipboard. The hat he wore. . .

He turned to me then, and my stomach dropped. No fucking way. What kind of Isekai bullshit. . .?

”You’re lucky we found you when we did. What were you thinking, eating that fruit?” He must have noticed the way I paled, and my jump in heart rate. He added, “No need to be afraid, you’re safe,” though, his golden eyes seemed almost as cautious as I was.

I closed my eyes, trying to control my breathing. “I-I’m not— you don’t understand.”

“You’re right, I don’t,” he muttered. He turned away from me again, setting the clipboard down.

I laughed once, humorlessly. “At least I’m not the only one who’s confused.” I ran my hands over my face in my distress. I kept my face covered as I tried to remember my breathing exercises: in four seconds, hold four seconds. Out four seconds, hold four seconds. Repeat.

He seemed to realize what I was doing, not speaking as I tried to calm myself. Once my heart slowed, I removed my hands from my face and tried to sit. My head swam.

He reached a hand out to me, as if to steady me, but didn’t touch me. “Take it easy, you’ve been out for a while. We don’t need you passing out again.”

”How long?” I asked.

”We found you two days ago.”

Two days. That makes five since I woke up on that forest floor. If I weren’t incapacitated for most of it, the time might have been enough to convince me this was real.

”I never got your name,” he stated, interrupting my thoughts.

”Rain. Aspen Rain.”

”Trafalgar Law.”

My heart jumped again. “I know.”

”I thought so, given your reaction to seeing me.”

I laughed again. “You don’t know the half of it.”

He studied me a moment, still cautious.

”Why did you help me?” I asked suddenly. I knew his character well enough to know that Law wasn’t exactly the hero type. Not that type to go out of the way to help a random person unless there was some benefit to him.

My question caught him off guard. He looked away again, fumbling to respond at first. “We came to the island looking for that fruit you ate. I wanted to study its paralytic properties for possible medical use in the future, and reverse engineer an antidote that might work for other, similar situations. You could imagine my surprise when we arrived to find someone poisoned by exactly the fruit I was looking for. You were a convenient test subject.” I nodded along as he explained. Of course, saving me was a convenience, but it almost sounded like an excuse. He may have been able to perform whatever tests he needed even if I wasn’t alive for it. “You know,” he turned to me once more, “you could have eaten any other fruit on that island and been fine. You’re lucky someone with my capabilities found you. Or that anyone found you at all, for that matter.”

“Lucky me,” I muttered, “eating the only poisonous fruit on the whole damned island.”

He almost cracked a smile. ”What were you doing there anyway?”

I stared at him, unsure if he truly wanted to know about the strange situation. Deciding I had nothing to lose, I told him, “I don’t know.”

His brow furrowed. “What do you mean, you ‘don’t know’?”

“I mean,” I took a deep breath, “I fell asleep in my bed, at home, and woke up on a forest floor with nothing to my name, and not even a hint of a soul around.” My voice rose as I spoke, nearing hysterics. “Not to mention, I went to sleep a normal human being, and woke up with fucking cat ears.” I made a vague gesture at my head for more emphasis.

”And tail,” he noted. “I can see now why you’re so confused.”

”I have a tail??” I couldn’t stop the laugh that erupted out of me. “This is insane,” I giggled. “I’m going insane.”

”I’m sure there’s a logical explanation for all of this.” He seemed to be reassuring himself more than me.

I tried to collect myself, breathing deeply again. Once I could control my voice, I said, “I haven’t even told you the craziest part yet.”

He looked even more apprehensive now. “Tell me.” He pulled a chair to the end of the hospital bed and sat, facing me. Good. He would need to be sitting for this.

Once again, I took a deep breath, closing my eyes and trying to steady myself. “What if I told you,” I began, “you’re not supposed to be real? What if I told you that I know of you not just as a pirate captain and former warlord, but as a character from my favorite TV show?”

He stared at me blankly, almost as if he was waiting for me to say I was joking. When I didn’t, he told me, “You’re insane.”

“That’s the conclusion I came to as well, and exactly how I expected you to respond.” My tone was resigned.

His tattooed hand came to pinch the bridge of his nose. He seemed to be collecting himself. Wondering just what the hell he got himself into by rescuing me, I figured. Suddenly, Law stood, pulling on a pair of medical gloves and beginning to disconnect the wires and tubes attached to me. He spoke as he moved. “I have some things to tend to. I’m going to have someone bring you some food and show you to the showers so you can get cleaned up. Then we’ll decide what to do with you.” He refused to meet my eyes. “Hold still, this will probably be uncomfortable.” He quickly and efficiently removed a feeding tube from my nose, wordlessly handing me a tissue afterward.

I remained still and silent as he worked over me, trying to ignore the way my heart thudded on the occasion his gloved fingers brushed against my skin.

He didn’t speak again as he gathered a few things and headed toward the door. He turned to me then, but still didn’t meet my gaze. “Someone will be in shortly. Just. . . don’t say anything crazy to them.” He waited for my nod, then the door closed with a soft click.

As soon as I was alone, I curled myself into a ball, wrapping my arms around myself for some sense of security in this foreign place. I was unable to stop the tears that welled up, lost and confused as I was. What was happening, and why? It’s one thing to wake up in a strange place, but entirely different to wake up in a different world. Why did this happen? Why the world of my favorite anime? And why, out of every possible person, did it have to be my fictional crush from this universe to find me? There were too many questions buzzing around in my head, questions that I didn’t have answers to.

I wondered if my world went on without me, or was it frozen in time? Perhaps I had died and this was some bizarre afterlife. I wondered if I had simply disappeared, just as I seemingly appeared here. Would my fiancé search for me? Would my family? How was I going to get back? What if I never did? My stomach dropped.

As I deliberated, the door reopened and someone entered the room, prompting me to quickly dry my eyes. I recognized my visitor as Ikkaku, the only female member of Law’s crew. I didn’t know much about her, and wasn’t sure what to expect of her personality. She wheeled a cart in after her, which held two plates of steaming food and a pitcher of water. The smell of the food had my mouth watering, tastebuds restless after not eating for so long.

“You have some timing,” she stated as our eyes met. “Lunch was just about to be served when the captain asked me to bring you food.” She stopped the cart at my bedside, moving the chair which Law previously sat in to the other side. “I’m Ikkaku, by the way,” she informed me as she took her seat, facing me. “What should I call you?”

”Rain,” I said. “Or Aspen. Either is fine.”

She asked, “What do your friends call you?”

”Rain.”

“Rain it is.” She grinned at me before digging into one of the plates upon the cart.

I hesitated, shy.

”It’s not poisoned,” Ikkaku teased.

Her bubbly nature softened my reserve. With the slightest smile, I scooted toward the edge of the bed where the cart sat. Timid as ever, I didn’t meet Ikkaku’s eyes as I reached for the water pitcher, filling both of our glasses. She thanked me cheerfully before taking a sip. I mirrored her, relishing the taste of the cold, refreshing water. I didn’t realize just how thirsty I was, quickly emptying my glass. I immediately refilled it, only to empty it halfway again.

”Slow down,” Ikkaku warned. “You don’t want to make yourself sick.”

I obeyed, studying my plate as I gave myself time to breathe. It was some kind of stir fried noodle dish, nothing elaborate. Still, I salivated. I was unable to make myself wait very long before digging in. I gave an appreciative hum as I chewed, it was an effort not to moan instead. Maybe it was the fact that I just almost starved to death, but nothing had ever tasted better.

”Oh, come on,” Ikkaku scoffed. “Uni’s cooking isn’t that good.”

I spoke with my mouth half full. “I almost starved to death, give me a break,” I half-joked.

She laughed, and I found it difficult not to return her smile. I decided I could get along with Ikkaku.

”So,” she began, sipping at her water again, “does the captain know you from somewhere?”

I paused in surprise and confusion. “I . . . don’t think so, why do you ask?”

“I’ve never seen him so quick to save a stranger,” she mused, “except for that Straw Hat at Marineford.”

“Um. . . Well, he did tell me that he was trying to make an antidote for the poison of the fruit I ate.”

”Coincidence,” Ikkaku contradicted. “He didn’t know you were poisoned when we found you, but insisted on helping you the moment he saw you.”

”Huh.” So it was an excuse. But why would he have wanted to help me so badly? “No, we’ve never met before. I’m not sure why he would do that.”

“Well, as out of character as it might’ve been for him, I’m not one to question my captain. I’m sure he had his reasons.”

I hummed in agreement, chewing my food slowly as I mulled over the possibilities. Nothing I could come up with seemed logical. I could see that Ikkaku had more questions, but neither of us spoke again as we finished eating.

Ikkaku stood once both of our plates were empty. “Now! Let’s get you a shower!”

I followed her quietly as she led me through the hallways of the Polar Tang. She briefly stopped at a closet, pulling out a boiler suit like hers, and holding it up to me to judge the size. She explained that it was the only clothing she could offer me to change into. I took it gladly, thankful to have clean clothes after being stuck in the same outfit for days. Ikkaku then led me to the showers, leaving me at the door. She explained where I could find the soap and towels, then told me that she would be waiting on the other side of the door once I was done, and to let her know if I needed anything. I was grateful for the time alone, locking the door behind me as a precaution.

As I looked in the mirror, I was almost surprised to see that I was still me. I looked a bit thinner, maybe, along with some other changes, but I was still the same Rain. My eyes were the same hazel they had always been, but I now had slits for pupils. This almost explained my improved vision. Cat eyes to go with my cat ears. And tail. Ugh. I could see it flicking behind me in annoyance. It was black, as were my new ears. My hair, which had previously been dyed pastel pink, my natural dark brown showing at the roots, now seemed to grow naturally pink. Weird. I noticed that half of my face was bright red, I assumed from the sunburn. Though, it looked as if it was medicated while I was unconscious. That was going to be a fun tan line. I shook my head in annoyance, tail still flicking, as I headed to the shower.

Ikkaku smiled at me brightly once I emerged from the room, freshened up and ready to go. The boiler suit was a tad long on me, and I had to roll up the sleeves and pant legs to accommodate my short limbs. There was no hole for my tail to come out of in the back, so it was stuffed into the suit with the rest of my body. It was uncomfortable, and grew even more so as I walked, following Ikkaku to our next destination. I made a note to myself to modify it if I had to continue wearing it. Ikkaku chittered as we walked, talking about the other crew members, explaining that they were doing chores, which was why we weren’t seeing them. I wasn’t listening, really. I was anxious to find out how Law wanted to deal with me.

Ikkaku stopped to knock on a door, and waited for permission to enter. My heart skipped a beat when Law’s voice said, “Come in,” from the other side, and Ikkaku opened the door, allowing me to enter first. I stepped into what appeared to be Law’s office. The walls were lined with shelf after shelf of books. There seemed to be only two areas on the wall not containing books: another door, which I guessed led to Law’s bedroom, and a little alcove nestled into the shelves, containing a cushioned bench and a window, through which I could see that we were still at the island where I woke up. Taking up almost half of the space of the room was a large, disorganized desk, facing the doorway I entered from. At this desk was where Law sat, thoughtful eyes trained on me from the moment I had entered.

Ikkaku was about to follow me in, when Law said, “You can go, Ikkaku.”

“Right!” Ikkaku responded, turning on her heel.

”Close the door before you go.”

She hesitated the slightest bit, eyeing me with concern. “Good luck,” she whispered to me before shutting the door.

”Have a seat,” Law ordered, nodding to the chairs in front of his desk. I obeyed silently. “You have two options,” he told me. “You can stay here, where we found you—“

”Pass.”

He paused at my interruption, giving me a disapproving look. “Or,” he continued, “we can drop you at the next island we stop at, provided it’s not deserted.”

I considered the idea, but where would I go? Was I to just start a new life in this world that I didn’t belong in? Would I be able to? How would I find my way home? Then, an idea occurred to me.

”Can I join your crew?”

He eyed me suspiciously. “That wasn’t an option.”

”I don’t like the options you gave me. It’s called ‘negotiation’.”

Raising a brow, he said, “Give me one reason why I would want you on my crew.”

I sighed. “I know you think I’m crazy, but I can show you that I’m not. At least, not entirely. I’m still trying to figure out what the hell’s going on, myself, but I won’t ask you to help me. Just let me stay, and I can be useful.” I looked into his eyes then, a strenuous task for me, given my shyness and Law’s intimidating aura. My tone was almost pleading. “I have nowhere to go. I know that you know what that’s like.”

His eyes softened just slightly, but he didn’t seem to like the use of reverse psychology. “How would you know that?”

”Believe it or not, I know a lot about you, Trafalgar. Things your crew might not even know. Don’t forget where I told you I know about you from.”

He seemed irked that I would bring it up again, and his tone was skeptical as he humored me. “What exactly do you know about me?”

I took a deep breath as I prepared to state everything I knew about this man. “Trafalgar D. Water Law, also known as The Surgeon of Death, wielder of the Ope Ope no Mi Devil Fruit ability, captain of the Heart Pirates, former Warlord of the Sea, a title you obtained by delivering the hearts of one hundred pirates to the world government.” He seemed almost unfazed as I rattled off the basic information, only reacting when I said the “D” in his name. “Born October sixth, you are twenty-six years old, a Libra, six feet and three inches tall, blood type F. You were born in a country called Flevance, located in the North Blue, nicknamed ‘White Town’ after the White Lead that was mined there.” His face began to pale. “You lived there with your younger sister and your parents, who were doctors and trained you and your sister to be as well. For this reason, the Ope Ope no Mi Devil Fruit was an excellent fit for you.” I averted my eyes. “For your sake, I won’t get into the details of how you came across the devil fruit. I assume it’s a touchy subject.” When I glanced back up at Law, the look he was giving me was deadly. “Do I need to continue?”

”How do you know all of that?”

”I already told you how I know.” I folded my arms across my chest.

He stared me down. Though my cheeks burned, I gave him an unwavering look of my own.

“How do I know that I can trust you?” Still suspicious.

”You don’t, I suppose. But I’ve been completely honest with you this whole time. I have no reason to lie, and nothing to lose. All I’m asking for is a place to stay for the time being. If you don’t trust me, take my heart if it will give you some peace of mind.”

”Keep your heart.” He almost seemed like he was starting to believe me. “Tell me about this . . . TV show.”

“It’s called ‘One Piece’ and it follows Straw Hat Luffy’s journey to become Pirate King . . .” I continued, explaining only relevant details, such as the places the Straw Hats had visited, where I was in the story, and the differences between this world and the one I came from. Occasionally, he would ask for more details, and I would give them to him, surprising myself with how much I remembered. He seemed more convinced with each detail I gave him of my world. His eyes didn’t leave me the entire time I spoke, and when I finished, he continued his piercing gaze, seeming contemplative. This time, I found it difficult to stare back, shying away from his intense look. I was grateful when he spoke before I started blushing again.

”You said that you can be useful. How?”

”Umm . . . I would probably be most useful in the kitchen. I’m a decent cook, but I’m more of a baker. I suppose that comes with the territory of the family name.” I chuckled slightly at my joke. “Other than that, I’m pretty good at tinkering and fixing things, anything involving creativity, really. I’m probably no good in a fight right now, but I can train. And I am a quick study, if there’s anything else you may want me to do.”

He stared at me a few more moments before he sighed, seeming to give in. “Just to be clear,” he began, “I still think you’re insane. However, you seem trustworthy enough, and you’re right.” His gaze softened. “I won’t leave you with nowhere to go.”

”So . . .?”

”So,” he repeated, pausing as he hesitated, “welcome to the Heart Pirates.”

I could have cried with the relief I felt. I had somewhere to stay. “Thank you,” I breathed, hanging my head.

”I will be keeping an eye on you though,” he warned. “Don’t make me regret this.”

”I promise, I’ll do my very best.”

He stood. “Come with me. I’ll show you to your quarters.”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

[britt-kageryuu]

Fan Social Media relating to before THIS,

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

Softshell_Simp:

Hey does anyone know why the VTurtles haven't streamed, or posted to their Socials?

》Unicorn_Turtlefan:

No, and since they locked the DMs we can't send an messages. And I don't think we can just call Genius Built, because they can't just give us that kind of information.

》Waves_And_Shells:

Maybe they're having a family issue and don't want to talk about it?

》Unicorn_Turtlefan:

Yeah, but they haven't even posted anything. Not even the Robots. Or that News Girl!!

》Waves_And_Shells:

They don't need to tell us anything. Though it would've been nice. Plus Softshell_Simp didn't Dee ask you to change your name?

》Softshell_Simp:

Never! I wear this name with Pride... for now. Dee please don't be mad.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

GlitterGraffiti_Art:

It's been a week, and MandarinPaints hasn't posted, liked, or Reblogged anything, I know he's probably busy with work or a commission, but he usually has some activity everyday.

》TurtleinaPaintcan:

I agree, it's a bit weird, but we can only wait and see. Plus there could be any reason he hasn't done anything.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

QuackChirp_TurtleDuck:

So it's been a week and a half, without any word from the VTurtles. Please... Anything will do. Even just a random emoji!!

》PaintedSlider:

I just rewatched so many of the VODs. I need something new!

》SurfingSeaTurtle:

Someone on the Minecraft server is actually planning a funeral!? Genius Built would've announced something if it was that bad!!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Waves_And_Shells:

So it's been 2 weeks, and the VTurtles! Fandom is falling apart. What is with these people?

》SoftshellBites:

The Minecraft mods at least shut down the funeral plans, but some people are still building monuments as if they still died.

》PaintedSlider:

Someone is still sending out the merch. That is relevant since they don't work with merch company!!

》Unicorn_Turtlefan:

I got something I ordered last week with one of the custom autographed boards! And the print date on one of the items was last week!!! There's still hope!!!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Softshell_Simp:

THIS IS NOT A DRILL! THIS IS NOT A DRILL!! DEE IS GOING LIVE! I REPEAT! DEE IS GOING LIVE!!

》DeeownsmyHeart:

My Prince is back rejoice!!

》Softshell_Simp:

Back off! He's my Prince!!!

》SoftshellBites:

Ladies/Theys/Dudes calm down, and get to the channel! There's a new waiting screen!!!

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

Masterpost

This was kinda planned to be posted before the Donnie Japan Trip post, but then I accidentally hit post instead of edit.

[myfavouritelunatic]

The Blacksmith

Apologies for the delay, life keeps getting in the way of editing haha. Thank you for your patience! ❤️

A quick thing to note, I did my best to research what Pelargir might look like in the Second Age, and there doesn’t seem to be too much published about it during this time period (unless I just missed it). So if you’re reading this after Season 2 of TROP comes out and the descriptions here don’t match the visuals in the show, then that is why! 😊

Pairing: Halbrand/Sauron x Female Reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: None

Links to Chapters One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty, Twenty-One, Twenty-Two, Twenty-Three, Twenty-Four, and Twenty-Five!

Chapter Twenty-Six

The speed with which you rode was unlike anything you'd experienced up until this point. It seemed that the few days rest your horse had received had done wonders. He galloped so quickly and so gracefully that it seemed almost implausible, like he was fuelled by a power that could not be quantified. Somehow your steed understood the importance of the task at hand. It wouldn't be much longer now at all before Pelargir was reached.

The sight you had seen in your sleep kept replaying over and over in your mind. Your soul was stricken with it. Galadriel had never appeared to you while you dreamt, and you were so confused as to how you should feel about her presence now. There were however two things you were sure of, that it was indeed a warning, and that Halbrand had not planted it. You remembered what he had told you about your mother and the unknown power her spirit seemed to possess. How she had tried to save you from Sauron. You wondered now if she knew of Halbrand's path to redemption and the reasons why you cannot leave him. This suddenly made you question your certainty. Was her warning a message to run from Galadriel? Or was there something else to her silent gesture? Was she trying to warn you not to go south? A sharp pain emanated from your stomach as you remembered the feeling of the she-elf's weapon inside you. This was enough to convince you that your instincts to flee were right.

There was also something else about Galadriel in this vision that filled you with unshakeable confusion. It seems a desire for her had been brewing within, unbeknownst to your conscious thought. Casting your mind back to how taken you were with her upon your first meeting, this revelation wasn't exactly shocking. However you did not expect any feelings for her to ever manifest. You loved Halbrand, you craved his touch. You only ever wanted his body twined with your own. And yet...

Within hours of leaving the inn and your companions behind, the horizon changed, giving way to a view that seemed to cleanse your heart in relief: Pelargir. You had finally arrived. Giving Halbrand a loving squeeze, you couldn't help but call out, "We made it!" Your love laughed happily at you, unable to contain his joy either it seemed. After all this time, the tragedy, the struggle, you had both reached your sanctuary. It would be here where the beginning of something great would take place. Your chance to truly start anew, to fulfil your destiny, and remain bathed in the light. However, the time for rejoicing might have come too soon, for your arrival couldn't help but be a test, a moment of truth. Were you too late? Did words travel faster than the hooves of your horse?

As you reached the city limits, Halbrand slowed the pace of your steed to a walk, not desiring to draw too many eyes. He let one of his hands come to rest over your own, fingers interlocking. This place was just as you remembered it, it had not changed in the years since your last fateful stay. It was not as resplendent as Eregion or as spectacular as Armenelos, though in it's own humble way it was mighty. There were many examples of Númenor's exemplary architecture, just on a smaller scale, the buildings a mixture of stone and wood, some streets were paved, and some were of dirt. The further into the citadel you moved, the Anduin river showed itself, reminding you of when last you sailed up it, and just how much had changed in the weeks since.

"We must find Bronwyn," announced Halbrand, "Surely there is a great hall of some kind she might be housed in. Given her status amongst the Southlanders." You thought on his words a moment, and decided you disagreed. "No. We must find the healing house. I have no doubt that is where Bronwyn will be. Although, I cannot remember where it is." Halbrand wasted no time, immediately grabbing the attention of a pair of men who were sat on the side of the road, one of whom was smoking a pipe. "Excuse me, sirs. May we ask the location of your healers?" The two men stared up at you both on the horse, their mouths slowly becoming agape. One of them spoke, unable to contain the shock and excitement in his voice. "K-king Halbrand? I cannot believe it! We all thought you dead!"

It seems you had been fortunate enough to stumble upon two Southlanders. And the fortune did not stop there. Not only was it clear that Halbrand's people did not know the truth of his identity, nor about the foul deeds you had both committed, but in fact they had received no word of anything at all. Halbrand looked at you from over his shoulder, grinning, his eyes filled with hope. "I am very glad to prove to you otherwise." he said, gazing back down at his subjects.

  "Why do you need a healer though? Are you alright, my lord?" spoke up the man with the pipe, smoke billowing from his mouth. "We only seek a meeting with Bronwyn, and my lady here believes that is where we will find her." "Right you are, my lady, right you are! She's there more than her own home, she is. Please, let us take you." "Thank you." you acknowledged, pleased with yourself, before dismounting your horse, the two of you thankful for the stretching of legs. Your escorts lead the way, with you following close behind. Halbrand held with one hand the reins of the horse, and your hand with the other. The further along you walked, the more people began to recognise their king. It seems many of the surviving Southlanders had settled in Pelargir, and soon a crowd began to follow you along the path to the healing house. You could hear many of them explaining passionately to the clueless residents exactly who you both were, and exclaiming things like  "He's alive!" "Our king has returned!" "And with our queen too!" and "Now we have a chance!"

  Now we have a chance.

After a few minutes, you reached your destination with what felt like the entire city behind you. Halbrand fastened the horse next to a row of others, all different shades of brown in colour, giving him a quick pat before you both followed your guides inside. The crowd did not want to miss this moment, with as many of them as possible filing into the building behind you. The elation in the air was palpable and contagious, you could not wipe the smile off your face. The two men sprinted off ahead as fast as they could given they were not so young, beds of the ill lining their path, calling furiously for Bronwyn as they did so. You turned to Halbrand then, wishing to take in the look on his face, to grasp how he was feeling. He was not grinning now as you were, but you could see a glimmer of happiness in his eyes. You believed he was attempting to portray a sense of regality, perhaps waiting until after meeting with Bronwyn to let himself feel it all more authentically. You gave his hand a squeeze, causing his eyes to lock with your own. Then stopping you both in your tracks, he placed a lingering and loving kiss on your lips, which caused a few of the people around you to rejoice.

The air of the healing house was soon filled with chatter, though the loud footsteps of the men as they ran back to you could be heard over the tumult. Breaking through the crowd, and out of breath they announced, "King Halbrand... may we present to you... our lady Bronwyn." Barely a second later, she came into view, the crowd parting for her as she drew closer. Bronwyn stood before you both now, a stunned look etched across her face, quickly followed by her beloved Arondir. "I am lost for words." she spoke, breaking into a smile, a laugh of disbelief overcoming her. "It is wonderful to see you well, Lord Halbrand, and you too my lady." She and the elf bowed their heads, and you returned the gesture in kind. "I am pleased to see the healing powers of my race at work." stated Arondir, offering his arm in greeting to Halbrand, which he received without hesitation. 

"As am I. Lady Bronwyn, how many of our people live?" "Our numbers are not many, but the citizens here have welcomed us better than expected. We are one people now." "That's wonderful to hear." you spoke, beaming at her. "All we need now is our king and queen." Hearing Bronwyn speak these words filled you with such a sense of purpose, of belonging, a certainty of the path you and Halbrand had taken being the correct one. You and your love exchanged knowing glances, smiling. Just then, another familiar face appeared. It was the young boy from the Númenórean camp, the one you had seen with Galadriel's sword, who had lead the chant amongst the survivors. "We must have a coronation!" he exclaimed. Bronwyn wrapped a loving arm around him, smiling warmly. She carried the same spark in her eyes as the boy, which meant they could only be mother and son. "You're absolutely right, Theo. We must make it official. A celebration for the start of a new era for our people."

The rapturous cheering that broke out amongst the crowd signified it was what your people wanted, what they wished for. Halbrand turned you to face him, taking both your hands within his own. Staring deeply into your eyes, a small smile crept onto his visage as a realisation seemed to dawn on him. "No... not a coronation. A wedding." You smiled so broadly your cheeks began to ache. Halbrand continued, "I want you to be more than just my queen. I want you to be my wife. And I want all of our people to bear witness... and know just how much I love you." The happiness overflowed from within you, into the tears that were spilling forth from your eyes. "How do you feel about th-" You refused to let Halbrand finish his question, crashing your lips into his, not caring at all about how many pairs of eyes were upon you. He was the only one you truly saw. He was your world. Everything else was inconsequential. Words could not adequately express this, only the feeling of your lips against his.

The cheering grew instantly in volume at your action, everyone screaming and clapping, the joy that rushed through all of you was a magic all its own, a power all its own. And as you passionately kissed the love of your life, for the first time ever you felt invincible. It felt just as Halbrand had said, "...once my people are behind me, there will be nothing we cannot do." When the kiss finally ended, your love took you in his arms in the sweetest of embraces. The roar of the room started to subside, but not enough to prevent Bronwyn from having to yell above the commotion. "It's settled then! A wedding it will be for our King and Queen!" More cries echoed out upon her words. You couldn't believe this was happening. You had approached Pelargir expecting the worst of scenarios, with even part of you feeling you deserved the retribution you were certainly owed. But this... this was the furthest thing from your mind. It was almost too good to be true.

And if that wasn't enough, following what happened next, you had to check if you were awake or dreaming. You could hear two men shouting your name in the distance, a distance that shrank as their calls grew louder. The voices were familiar but you were convinced you were imagining them. No... surely not, you thought, I have lost what remains of my mind. It wasn't until they came into view that you started to believe in what you were hearing, what you were now seeing. Your two older brothers had pushed their way through the crowd, which had now started to disperse, and were standing before you, the biggest of grins on both their faces. "Azrahin! Târikun!" you screamed, jumping straight into their arms instantly. The three of you hugged each other so tightly, you were afraid that if you let go they might vanish from sight.

  Breathing in their scents, your head was suddenly swimming with thoughts of home. Closing your eyes, it was almost as if you were back there, a child again, completely clueless to the darkness around you, and ahead. The image of your father appeared, and the bliss you had been feeling started to fade. You knew that he had died, but could you tell them? Could you tell them that it was by the hand of the being stood barely three feet away? The being you were now to marry?

You didn't wish to lie to them, but you decided it best approached one truth at a time. Plus knowing Azrahin, he'd figure it out sooner rather than later. Releasing them, you took a step back, unable to conceal the grave expression etched on your face. "I... I know... about father. I am sorry I was not there." Târikun bowed his head, the grief still somewhat fresh. "It's alright. We found him not long after we discovered you had left Númenor... in fact that was the reason we..." His voice trailed off, but he needed not finish his thought. "But how do you know?"

You sighed, your heart heavy. "When the time is right, I will explain everything." Remembering Halbrand, and feeling his eyes on the back of your head, you smiled at your kin as you held your hand out for your love to take. As he joined you at your side, you lived a moment you thought you would never experience. "Brothers, this is Halbrand. My king and now my soon to be husband." you spoke, your voice brimming with pride as the gentlemen clasped hands politely. "Halbrand, these are my two older brothers, Azrahin and Târikun." "This is an honour." spoke your love humbly. "No the honour is truly ours!" admitted Azrahin. "We had begun to lose all hope that our sister would ever find a husband!" "Oi!" you chastised him, landing a playful tap on his arm. "It is true, you know." chimed in Târikun, turning to your love. "Lord Halbrand, we owe you a great debt." His words caused Azrahin to snicker loudly. "You men should be thankful your wives are not here." you said, glaring at them. Halbrand chuckled, amused at the sight before him. "Speaking of people who are not here... where is our baby brother? And why are the two of you here?" you questioned them, desperate to change the subject before your cheeks reddened any further.

"Well, speaking of our wives, Zimra is looking after that rascal. We thought it best he should stay at home, given what is unfolding in the lands not too far from here." spoke Azrahin. "We came to Middle-earth upon the burial of father. We came to find you." His words threatened your tears to appear once more, but instead you let go of Halbrand's hand, falling back into the arms of your family. You had convinced yourself that your brothers had chosen to stay away from you, but perhaps it was father that they had chosen to be parted from. Though the three of you had certainly drifted in recent years, now you felt incredible relief as the knowledge of their concern for you sunk in your mind. They cared for you after all.

"I don't know about you, little sister, but I am starving!" announced Târikun, the embrace ending. "We're staying at the old inn we used to as kids. And their food is still as tasty as ever. Come join us!" You genuinely hesitated a moment. They were housed in the same building where your mother had experienced her last slumber, her last dreams. You weren't sure if you would be able to go back there, confused as to why your brothers thought nothing of it, seeing only the childhood nostalgia of a journey long ago. Looking at Halbrand, you sighed. "Shall we go?"

Brownyn interjected then. "Actually, I was wondering if I might have a word with Lord Halbrand regarding the ceremonies. The sooner they commence, the better." "Why do you say that?" you asked, puzzled. Arondir breathed in deeply, his expression grim. "Orcs have been sighted not too far from Pelargir's borders. We need to be ready for a fight." "Perhaps we should wait, my love, just in case?" you suggested, taking Halbrand's hand again, giving it a squeeze. Your king however was resolute, his mind unphased by the potential for catastrophe. "No, it has to be now. While we have the chance. We cannot let any threat stand in our way. I will not have it."

You disagreed with him a little, but decided not to show it, because as much as the people should be prepared in case of an attack, he wasn't exactly wrong. We shouldn't not live just because we might die. We must love in the face of fear, and thrive in spite of it. Nodding, you gave Halbrand a small smile, which he returned. "Go and be with your family. I'll find you later." "Don't be too long." you urged him, letting your lips meet his. Then the two of you turned to face the people needing your attention, and you parted ways, hands breaking contact at the last possible second.

Tagging; @starlady66 @denzit @restless-tides @heronamedhawks @coraleethroughthelookingglass @hikarielizabethbloom @vaguelyvibin @pursuitseternal @michon-ne @gil-galadhwen 

[shadowbannedthehedgehog]

anyways im going to sleep for the next like 5 1/2 hours n i'll probably be offline for the next 7 hours so rejoice ... but b4 you do so get me to 1000 00000000 views bc i'm CUTE ^_^

the french captions can auto translate to english so you can watch it even if you dont speak french n snoop on my personal life AND my amazing video editing skills ;)