#grieve the old world while building the new

[betterworldinitiative]

Radical action requires radical creativity, and vice-versa. What does that new world look like? Are we ready? Many of us are feeling like we’re going crazy at this moment in time. This means we’re leveling up.

[princesssarisa]

As I've read different people's views on Little Women, I've realized that for different readers, it's a fundamentally different book.

When I see someone describe the "universal" experiences of identifying with Jo, wanting her to marry Laurie, and disliking Amy, I remember all the proof I've seen that these are far from universal. The latter two weren't even my experiences: identifying with Jo, yes, but shipping her with Laurie and disliking Amy, no!

Even people with equal amounts of knowledge of the historical context and of Louisa May Alcott's life seem to come away with vastly different feelings about the story and characters.

I suppose there are a wide variety of reasons for this. First and foremost, which of the four March sisters you personally admire or relate to the most. Then there are other factors like your gender, your age when you first read the book, your relationship (good or bad) with traditional femininity, whether you read Parts I and II as a single novel or as Little Women and Good Wives, your relationships with your own family members, your religion and ethical values...

The list goes on.

That post from @theevilanonblog that I reblogged recently about the different interpretations of Frankenstein makes me want to write out a similar list of ten different views I've read of Little Women. Here it is:

Little Women is about the March sisters learning to be proper virtuous women of their time and place. With Marmee as their role model (a role later shared by Beth as she becomes increasingly angelic in her illness), they learn to conquer their flaws, give up their wild ambitions, and settle down as good wives and mothers. This is especially true for Jo, whose character arc is a slow taming from a rough tomboy to a gentle nurturer. It's a conformist and anti-feminist message, which Alcott probably disliked, but she wrote it to cater to public tastes. (This reading seems mainly to come from critics who dislike the book.)

Little Women is about Jo's struggle to stay true to herself in a world that wants to change her. She struggles with whether to stay a tomboy or become a proper lady, whether or not to marry Laurie despite not loving him romantically, and as an author, whether to write what she wants, write what earns the most money, or give up her writing altogether. In the end, she changes only in ways that make her happy, e.g. by learning to control her temper, and later by embracing romantic love. But in more important ways, she stays true to herself: always remaining slightly rugged, clumsy and "masculine," finding success as a writer, and marrying Friedrich, a man just as plain and "unromantic" as herself, but whom she loves and who respects her as an equal.

Little Women is about learning to "live for others." That phrase is used often and could well be the arc words. Beth is the only March sister to whom a selfless life comes naturally, but the other three master it by the end of the story (as does Laurie). They learn to conquer their moments of pettiness and selfishness, to live in better harmony with each other and with their friends and love interests, and to give up their self-centered dreams of fame and wealth, building lives that focus on service instead.

Little Women is about growing up. The first half is mainly about the March girls' maturing by surviving hard times and learning to be better people, while the second half is about reaching adulthood and bittersweetly parting ways to start new lives. At the beginning, Jo is a girl who doesn't want to grow up: she wants to always be a wild young tomboy with her family (and Laurie) by her side forever. But of course, she can't stop time or womanhood, and is eventually forced to accept the loss of Meg, Amy, and Laurie to marriage and Beth to death. After grieving for a while, she lets go of her old life and willingly builds a new one with Friedrich.

Little Women is about family bonds and the fear of losing them. We meet and become attached to the wonderfully close, cozy March family, which gradually expands through friendships, marriage, and new babies. But throughout the story, the family is in danger of breaking apart, whether due to conflict (Jo and Amy's sibling rivalry, Meg and John's marital problems), or separation by distance (Father going away to war, Amy going to Europe, Jo to New York), or death (the danger of losing Father and Beth in Part I, and the ultimate loss of Beth in Part II). But in the end – unlike in reading #4 above – the family doesn't break apart and never will. Conflicts are resolved, travelers eventually come home, the surviving family members always live near each other and stay as close as ever, and even Beth isn't really gone, because her memory and influence live on.

Little Women is about femininity and each March sister's relationship with it. Meg and Amy happily conform in different ways: Meg to "domestic femininity" as a housewife, Amy to "ornamental femininity" as a society lady. Beth pressures herself to conform to self-effacing domestic femininity, until sadly, it kills her – either because she's too selfless and nurturing when she cares for the fever-infected Hummels, or because she has anorexia, as Lizzie Alcott might have had. But Jo strikes a successful balance in the end, conforming just enough to fit into society, but only on her own terms, and otherwise living a happily unconventional life as a writer and schoolmistress.

Little Women is about Jo's unlearning of internalized misogyny. At the beginning, she's a "Not Like Other Girls" tomboy, who wishes she were male, disdains feminine girls (especially her sister Amy), doesn't care enough when "her boy" Laurie behaves badly toward women, and is afraid to be vulnerable. But gradually, and without losing her strength of character, she learns to embrace the sweeter and more tender aspects of herself, sees that Amy's ladylike manners have practical benefits, and learns to say "no" to Laurie when he turns his childish, unhealthy romantic attentions to her. Then after Beth dies, she realizes how precious Beth's utterly domestic, feminine life was, and embraces a more domestic life herself. Yet by doing so, she becomes a true feminist, as she enters an egalitarian marriage and devotes her life to teaching boys to be good, respectful men.

Little Women is only what US Americans know as the first half. It's just about the March sisters getting by and learning moral lessons over the course of the year their father is away at war. Nobody gets married and nobody dies. Everything else is in Good Wives, which is a sequel with different character arcs and different themes, and which should be published separately, as it originally was and still is outside the US. Trying to tie them together into one narrative never feels quite right.

Little Women is Alcott's idealized version of her own life and family, where no one suffers quite as much as they did in real life, everyone is slightly less flawed, and Jo ends up happily married to a man very much like Alcott's lost love Henry David Thoreau. She wrote the life she wished she had.

Little Women is just a semi-autobiographical slice-of-life that Alcott wrote quickly for money.

Which is the truest to Alcott's intent? I don't know. But while some of these readings I like better than others – and some of them I despise – I'd say they're all understandable and reasonably valid. Some aren't even mutually exclusive, but can be used together... although of course, other readings are mutually exclusive, like whether the story is feminist or anti-feminist, or whether the March family ultimately breaks apart or holds together. And they're all worth using as springboards for discussion.

Alcott wrote more books than she ever realized she did, because Little Women can be many different books to different people.

@littlewomenpodcast, @joandfriedrich, @thatscarletflycatcher, @fictionadventurer, @fandomsarefamily1966

[eatmangoesnekkid]

Much of society is not embodied, not-living-in-our-bodies, and when we are not embodied, we’re not only more controllable, we won't be capable of making the best decisions in life. And when a woman is not embodied, it can be easy for her to get caught up in addictions, obsessions, eating disorders, and limerences that can take a toll on her mental health. Quiet as it is kept, many women and femme people have a feminine urge to be a dancer, to live the life of a dancer. I think inherently we know that the alchemy of dance brings us back home to our bodies and lights up our fire which we can use to clear out the chaos and stagnation in our nervous systems, leading to breakthroughs. Dance is also where we can heal the disconnect from our bodies and build up our confidence, life force, and connection to ourselves (our cells). The power of dance, taking dance classes and learning new body skills, is that it can be a great healing modality for trauma, whether mental health, depression, anxiety, etc. Dance also teaches us more about our bodies and how they uniquely NEED to move. It is starting to make sense to me why so many women are attracted to dance, to arching our backs, pointing our toes, shaking our asses and hips, wearing beautiful dance attire, and integrating all that deep cellular intelligence. Dance creates coherence between our heart, soul and spirit. Women are taught to talk all the time, process everything through the mind, and force things. But we don’t always need to explain or use the mind or words to express or process. And certainly we don’t have to force anything. When we dance, we can allow our dance to communicate on our behalf, unwind and move energy and process information. We feel more focused, free and alive, out of our heads and inside our bodies, lighting up the world with our shining auras. But we don’t have to wait until we are signed up for dance classes. We can dance right here and right now and begin the journey of moving out old energy and setting our tissues free. You can dance with a large mirror, fans, or colorful veils and fabric to activate different chakra points. You can infuse affirmations or spells into your dance and solar plexus. You can dance with the elements— wind, rain, sun, waves, stars, etc. and co-regulate the root issues of different illnesses. Dance is a primary nutrient in deeply woven within the psyche of female physiology from ancient times. We danced to celebrate, to connect to spirit, to grieve, to release emotion, to activate dormant parts of our DNA, to connect with different parts of the body like the heart or kidneys, or to benevolently seduce and draw in. But we also knew that in order to properly seduce, we had to be so in love with our body, with how it looked, how it felt, how it uniquely moved. And we dance to show our love, even while on our hands and knees cleaning floors or other chores. Beneath the dance has always been the art of self-love and self-worth.— India Ame'ye, Author, Mentor, Pole Dancer, Belly Dancer, and Aerialist

[envysparkler]

so this.  this would be one of the nightwing longfics.  the long, character-driven fic that I wish I had time to write but alas.

the crux of this fic is when Tim goes to ask Dick to return to save Batman from his grief, Dick agrees.

Nightwing coming back to Gotham.  fighting, every day, to keep Bruce from self-destructing in a manor so full of grief that sometimes he sits in empty rooms and cries.  Dick that can’t visit Jason’s grave, it’s too painful, but sometimes he sleeps on the couch in the library and pretends like his little brother is sitting on the other couch and reading.  and Nightwing also needs to deal with this precocious twelve-year-old who might not be Robin but thinks that it is perfectly reasonable to stalk them around Gotham.

it’s hard.  it’s so, so hard.  Dick losing pieces of himself, bit by bit.  he sees hallucinations of Jason and eventually, the hallucinations are the only things he talks to truthfully.  he has to keep Bruce sane while Bruce keeps lashing out at him.  Alfred’s not getting younger.  Barbara’s furious and upset and grieving what happened to her.  Tim has no parental supervision, what the fuck is going on with this kid, Dick needs to watch out for him too.

it’s slow, but the pressure just keeps piling on.

meanwhile, the people he’s helping start to get better.  Bruce notices their baby stalker, figures out Tim’s situation, and puts in immediate paperwork to get temporary guardianship.  (Dick still hasn’t been adopted.  it’s fine.  he doesn’t care.  he doesn’t.)  Barbara recovers and becomes Oracle, a saving grace to the wider caped community.  (she’s so busy.  Dick just wants a friend to talk to.  please.)  Tim is introduced to the Titans and makes fast friends with them.  (the Titans were Dick’s first but they’re gone, all gone, why does everyone keep leaving him.)

and then there’s a mention of a new crime lord on the scene, Red Hood, who’s looking to shake things up.

things build and build and build, Hood taunting them and Bruce’s suspicions and Tim’s stalking, until it reaches a breaking point.

a warehouse.  Batman and Red Hood and Tim and Dick.  everyone is shouting at each other, yelling at each other, accusations flying, emotional barbs thrown.  Dick trying to keep the peace and failing.

maybe someone snaps something that wounds.  maybe Dick just collapses under his own exhaustion.  either way, he gives up.  he walks away.  he can’t do this anymore.

no one notices him leave.

Dick leaves his suit in the Cave and writes a short note explaining that he’s quitting.

he’s done.

this world--Gotham and Batman and all the heroes and villains--has taken too much from him. he’s barely twenty-one and yet he’s lived lifetimes.  he’s shouldered the weight of the entire world on his shoulders for so long he cannot remember what it feels like to fly without a net.

he returns to the first place he called home.  there’s a Flying Grayson at Haley’s Circus again.

[schrodinger-swriter]

Hi! I was wondering if you could do a Lucifer x Fallen Angel!Reader? Your writing is amazing <3

Lucifer x Fallen Angel!Reader

Greetings, and thank you so much! I hope this is alright, Anon, my body's feeling a little... not good today, so my brain is a little all over the place. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy!

He never thought that another fallen angel would find their way in Hell. Well, no that's not entirely true. He knows first hand how strict Heaven can be... In a world full of sinners and Hell born, he feels isolated.

But with you...

It won't magically fix all of his problems, he's still working through a lot. Though, with you around things feel a little more... secure. You understand what it's like to have your own people.. the ones you thought were your friends. Family, even... to turn their backs on you, and for what? Because you didn't meet their standards? Their status quo? A lot of words that Lucifer left unsaid start spilling out to you, prompting you to follow. Something like this would take a while to happen, though...

As for fluff and general relationship building, it would take him a while to let you in. I believe he may still be in love with Lilith, or at least greatly grieving the separation and all of the fallout. It's going to be a slow burn, emphasis on the slow.

But it's nice to see some of his old self, the one that wanted more than anything to do right by everyone, shine back in through his eyes when he spends his days with you. He's noticeably more... open to new things. Holding your hand turns into offering his arm out for you to hold. At home dinners turn into him taking you out. Things like that.

Please reassure him that everything is going to be alright when he finally introduces you to Charlie! That's something that he might be a little weary of, since it's very likely that he hasn't dated since the separation. He just wants his little girl to love you like he does you. It won't fix the family, of course, but things seem a little brighter now.

[ofstoriesandstardust]

if there is a right time (chances are i'll be here) (twisters - javi)

​​a/n: my little i can fix him character study that could! thank you my dearest @sometimesanalice for reading this and always having the best thoughts.

summary: Five years after a summer romance in Miami, you and Javi meet again. The boy still means such a great deal to you, even after all this time. If only he wasn't in love with another.

warnings: mutual pining, angst with a happy ending, swearing

word count: 6.6k

You met Javi nine months after the Tornado Tragedy that stole everything from him.

In Miami for an internship and fresh off a bit of a brutal breakup, Javi had all but stumbled into your life as his cousin “accidentally” pushed him into you at a breakfast place near his house.

The hurt that was woven into both of you was evident, even in the way you both laughed together on long, drunken nights and three am gas station runs. 

Maybe it’s the hurt that had drawn you together all along. 

It’s three months later, at the end of your time together, on the first year anniversary that you hold him through the night, a raw and wavering voice piecing together the fragments of that nightmare. 

It was like whispers of a confessional, soft against the storm that raged in his mind. Your fingers had run through his hair, reminding him that you were there, that he was alright. 

Two weeks later, you’d let him go. You let him go even though you knew you could’ve loved that boy someday, loved all the broken parts and pieces of him. 

Loved him despite the fact that he loved another. Would probably always love another, a striking, enigmatic force from his past who’d left his world as abruptly as his friends had left this world. 

It’s a shame, you think, to have lost a love you never really had. You never could really grieve that open wound.

Especially not when you left that door open for him, always looking for him in every grocery store aisle, in every smoky corner of a bar through the Midwest, every time you followed a storm with the windows down, hand feeling the humid air and warm rain as the sky tore itself in two. 

Still, you feel frozen as you see him across the parking lot of the motel, the skies opening as he ducks out of an all too familiar red truck. 

(Everyone in these parts knew that red truck and everyone in the storm chasing community knew in some way, a member or two of the Tornado Wranglers. An old bull riding friend, a classmate, a one night stand, a bonfire friend. You all knew them one way or another.)

Well, at least, you think it’s him. You see the curls before you ever see his face, and while it’s shorter now, you think you’d remember the build of a man you’d spent so many moments wrapped around, even if for a fleeting time. 

“Javi?” You have to shout over the pouring rain, stepping forward in disbelief, as you cup your hands around your mouth. You didn’t chase seriously, not really anyways, and had only convinced a few friends from college to come out under the guise of showing them a good time. By all accounts, seeing him here, now, would be near impossible. 

For a second, you almost don’t let yourself get your hopes up. You’ve looked for this boy in every corner of the world you’ve ever gone — how would he be here, in the soaked parking lot of some run down motel near the border of Kansas and Oklahoma?

You were only on a two day chase, following Ty’s team out but you hadn’t realized he’d be with them. You had heard rumors Ty had taken on a new business endeavor, something about taming tornados, but it had all felt so silly you’d blown it off. 

It had all felt so reminiscent of a friend you’d once known, of a project he’d believed so much in, it hadn’t felt real. 

-

His head perks up at the sound of his name, his head swinging wildly around the parking lot, before he spots you. His eyes grow wide in disbelief as giddy joy propels your feet forward, darting across the parking lot before you can even think about if he wants to see you. 

He lets out a laugh in disbelief as his body collides with yours, a warm rock against you as he tightly wraps his arms around your frame. 

“How are you here?” He sounds incredulous, almost as giddy as you, and you fist your hands in the slick material of his rain jacket. 

Your hair is longer than it had been the summer you’d spent in Miami, when you chopped it off all of five days after arriving, complaining incessantly about the humidity. 

You have a few new piercings and he thinks he might spy a tattoo peeking out from your shirt under your collarbone. 

“I- I work part time out at Muskogee as an adjunct. I bought a house out in Claremore two years ago.” 

A house. You’d bought a house. You’d bought a house — all alone? 

His eyes widen impossibly as his hands come to cover your own. “So- so like you- you being here in Oklahoma isn’t a fluke?” 

It’s the twinkle in your eye that almost makes him believe this is a dream he’ll wake up from. 

That look that says there has to be more than coincidence we both ended up here right now. 

That feeling deep in his chest that’s telling him strings of fate tugged you and Javi together to be right here, at this moment in time in your lives. 

He isn’t quite sure what to say to you.

He’d hopelessly thought of you for years to come after you’d left his life, the if onlys hanging around in the back of his mind, the fantasies of what he’d do if he ever saw you again comforting him on the darker days. 

But for all that he dreamed, he had never thought it would be a reality. 

-

“Are you-“

“So…” One of your friends say, and your head pops up, body turning to face her. You miss the way Javi’s face falls, the start of a question you barely heard lost to the wind. “If this little show is over, I’d like the room key, please.” 

“Piper has it.” You breathe as Javi’s hand travels down your back. 

“She-“ Bailey cuts herself off, face pinching in frustration. “She got stuck inside.” 

You splutter, brain short circuiting around a confused huff and a “I told her she needs to yank it”. Instead you turn, catching sight of more than one Wrangler peeking out their windows to watch you and Javi.  “Where’s Tyler?”

-

One unstuck door, a few hugs, and an hour and a half later, you find yourself crammed into a booth much too small to fit your friends and the Wranglers at a dingy roadside diner. 

You’re wedged between Dani and Javi and you giggle as Kate, through giggles of her own, regals the group with yet another tale from her and Javi’s undergrad.

“…So anyways, Javi is wasted right. And so is Addy, and she trips and Jeb and I, we both go to dive for her, to keep her from falling and slipping on the ice and when we finally get her righted, not without the two of us almost going down with her, cause I’m also drunk at this point, we turn around to find Praveen begging Javi to get out of the fountain they hadn’t had a chance to drain yet.” 

Javi’s face is crimson as the table roars in laughter, and you think you may not ever breathe again as silent giggles consume your whole being at the thought of a wasted nineteen-year-old Javi in a icy cold fountain during a surprise first snow, hollering about taming a tornado. 

It would be a good way to go out, you think, as Javi gives you a sheepish grin, air finally crackling through your lungs as a few tears slip down your cheeks. 

Tyler chokes on the other side of Kate and you slide down in the booth, shoulders shaking. Maria kicks your ankle under the table across from you, where she’s sitting in between Boone and Piper. 

“What the fuck are you laughing at? One time in college you stood at the stove for twenty minutes and couldn’t figure out why your food wasn’t cooking, all cause you had the wrong burner on! And you were sober!”

The table erupts again, much to the unnoticed irritation of the lone waitress, as Maria retells the story of the year you two had lived together, when you’d stood at the stove, unsure why your frozen package of fried rice wasn’t cooking, hoping to solve the problem with more olive oil. And boy, was there a lot of olive oil. 

“You don’t have room to talk Maria - you gave me a very expired jordan almond that nearly cracked a tooth!” You finally shoot back, earning you another round of laughter. 

After the table has finally quieted, a few stray giggles from Boone as he leans into Lilly, Kate pulls herself together enough to ask “Do you have a trademark chasing song?” 

Piper snorts into her milkshake. “Today we learned it’s A Pocketful of Sunshine… on repeat.” 

“Whoever used to get stuck in the van with Javi was made to listen to Salió El Sol by Don Omar probably about a dozen times.” Kate offers up in response. 

“You two are a match made in fucking heaven.” Dani comments under her breath and she groans, wincing as you deliver an elbow to her ribs. 

“It’s kind of ironic that both songs are about sunshine and you play it while chasing a storm when it’s very much not sunny.” 

Bailey frowns at Piper. “It’s almost like… that’s the whole point.”

-

“I still can’t quite believe you’re here.” Javi comments quietly as the two of you walk farther away from the source of laughter and noise, the twinkle of stars poking out from the sky streaked with clouds. It had been a good day, a good chase, and Tyler had ensured he led your friends to a great show. They were content to sit around a crackling fire, drawn in by the Wrangler charm (and you would never say, but you could see the looks Piper had been tossing Boone all night).

Javi puts his hands in the pockets of his jacket, licking his lips. “You know, I- I always thought about you. Where you were, how you were doing. What I’d do if I ever saw you again. A whole 50 states, countless cities, and who knew you’d be here in Oklahoma.” 

“Well, the Oklahoma part’s easy. I wanted a teaching job after finishing my masters and Muskogee wanted me enough that uh, moving to Oklahoma was outweighed by all the pros of the job. And then yeah, I found my place, cute little yellow house with a porch just big enough for two chairs to curl up and watch the thunderstorms like I’d always wanted. It all sort of fell together for me.”

“And the storm chasing?” 

“Like your Mom used to say that summer in Miami, the worse the weather the happier the girl.” 

A haze glazed over his eyes. “Yeah, she did used to say that, didn’t she?” 

You snort. “She used to say it every chance she got. Especially after that one time I stood out in the storm and then your cousin Mickey yelled from the back porch that I was gonna get struck by lightening and then you pulled me inside because of-“ You cut yourself off, suddenly feeling off-kilter. 

You weren’t sure if that was off-limits. 

“How is Mickey?” 

Javi snorts. “Ah, he’s good. He’s stationed out in San Diego right now.”

You kick a rock. “Doesn’t that sound dreamy.” 

Javi lets out a real laugh this time. “Yeah, he isn’t going anywhere. After years of barracks and aircraft carriers, he’s basically living the high life in his four bedroom off-base beach house he shares with some of the guys.”

The two of you keep walking towards the outer edges of the motel, finally pulling you to a pause as you turn to Javi. “Kate seems really nice, Javi. I could see how you’re in love with her. Hell, I kinda think I’m in love with her.” 

His Adam’s apple bobs as he works his throat. He glances away from you, scuffing his feet against the muddy ground of the parking lot. 

“I don’t know that I am.”

You sigh, unclenching your hands from where they sit in your own jacket pockets, resisting the urge to reach out and touch him. “Javi, you don’t have to lie to me. It’s okay.” You soothe. “We were never together, not really, and besides, it’s been years since then. It’s not even an attempt of an attack, just an observation.” He eyes you, silent, and you sigh. “Javi, really, I didn’t mean anything by it.” 

“That’s not what I meant.” 

You falter but the boy doesn’t offer up anything else and you sigh again. “C’mon, tell me more about this new business venture of yours, I’m kind of interested in hearing how I can get involved with taming a tornado.” 

-

Javi falls back into your life as easily as he had fallen into it last time. 

His apartment in Tulsa is only a thirty minute drive from your house, a drive Javi says he’d make a million times over. 

Some nights, he’ll find his way to Claremore and the two of you will share dinner in your cozy kitchen. He’ll never tell you, but that first night he’d gone over to your house, he’d sat in his car for eight minutes, eyeing the warm lights inside the house, preparing to meet some- some husband or serious long-term partner because, well, a house is a big purchase. A house says I mean to be here for a while. Much to his pleasant surprise though, as you beam at him as you take the flowers and wine from him, there’s no partner in sight. 

He lets out a sigh of relief as he bumps hips with you in the kitchen, stirring a sauce, that he has you to himself. Not only had you created this simple little life for yourself that you had loved so much all on your own, he has you all to himself. 

He has a chance this time. 

Other times, you’ll meet him in Tulsa for a drink, laughing into each other as you recount the summer you’d spent in Miami and he catches you up on the days you missed. It’s an ache, to hear about the growing pains of the last few years for Javi, but that ache soothes itself every time you see him laugh, or pull Boone into a playful headlock, or him and Tyler bicker  business over Cathy’s barbecue. 

Sometimes the two of you will go for drives, you making him listen to every album of all your favorite artists that he might’ve missed, and on quieter nights, watch the summer storms from your porch. Sometimes, he wraps his ankle around yours, just to feel you. 

Even when he’s chasing, he calls you, even just to say goodnight, even if you always pretend not to hear the muffled teasing of his friends from somewhere off camera. The sleepy FaceTime calls, however short, make something in him swell every time he gets another chance to do it. 

He took things for granted once. He won’t take them for granted ever again. 

As the year grows, so do the two of you. 

The question he asks you as you walk back to your car after a movie shouldn’t take you by surprise. Still, it does and you stop as you turn to face him. 

“Do you want to go on a date?”

It’s a chillier night than usual for the summer that’s quickly fading into fall and you’re wrapped up in your jacket as you study his hopeful eyes, a nervous smile on his face. 

“None of that fooling around shit we did as kids. A real one this time.” 

“Javi.” You breathe out, so soft and sweet. 

You’d forsaken a chance to love Javi so long ago. A weaker woman would forget the way he’d confessed the quiet love he’d held for Kate, even if it felt like he’d love from afar. A weaker woman would forget the way he’d confessed that he thought he’d probably always be in love with Kate, his feelings for the girl frozen in time to the day that took so much from them both. 

But those feelings didn’t stay stuck in the past, had all caught up to him when he’d asked Kate to come back to Oklahoma last year.

And the Javi in front of you wasn’t that same scared kid who’d taken off for the Army the first time his older brother pressed about the lingering phantom pain. This was- well, not a fully healed Javi — could anyone really ever fully heal from what he and Kate had gone through — but a Javi who was on his way to healing. 

But still- 

Javi looked at Kate with a soft fondness, their bond unexplainable. The way they fed off each other’s energy, the little handshake they had going on good chase days, it all struck home to you. 

You knew what Javi had with Kate. Even if Kate never felt the same way towards him, you knew the feelings of the boy in front of you.

“No, Javi.” You say softly and he takes a half step back, jaw going slack. 

Too long, you’d been people’s last resort choice, the girl people picked when they had no one else. You wanted to keep Javi in your life but not at the cost of knowing that every night you laid next to him in bed he was thinking of someone else. 

You didn’t blame him. Kate was every bit of the enigmatic, bright, witty force that he’d described her to be. She was a freaky genius, a level of intelligence you were in awe of. Everyone around her was drawn into Kate’s presence and orbit, the time spent with her never feeling like a loss. 

You know that Kate was the type of girl that you fell for and loved forever. 

“Javi, I’m sorry.” You whisper. “But I can’t. I can’t be that for you. I think-“

He holds up a hand, taking another step back. “No. You don’t need to explain it to me.” 

“But I-“

“No, I get it. We’re better off as friends, just cause you were interested then, doesn’t mean you are now. You’ve got someone else.” The last sentence is delivered with what seems like to be great effort and your eyebrows furrow. “There’s countless excuses you could give me. We don’t need to go through them.” 

“No, Javi, you aren’t listening to me-“

“No, I heard you loud and clear. Get yourself home safely, okay?” 

And then he turns on his heel, walking towards his truck as you stand there dumbfounded. 

-

The cold of the Oklahoma winter is bitter, biting at your nose and cheeks as you duck in the barn, finally letting yourself breathe. 

For a holiday meant to be filled with cheer, this had felt like anything but. 

The last few months between you and Javi had been increasingly strained, the ever-persisting struggle of both of you being able to understand the other. Being at Kate’s for Christmas had felt suffocating, as Javi had hesitated around you the whole day, almost seemingly unsure of how to handle himself around you on such a big holiday. Javi had never hesitated when it came to you, and watching him so at ease with the rest of his friends had put a sour taste in your mouth even the sweetest of the hot toddies couldn’t rid. 

“How you and Javi haven’t fucked yet is beyond me.” 

Tyler’s words are crass, said with nothing less than the cowboy charm he turns on for the cameras. 

“Fuck off.” You say, back turned to the man as you thumb through the notebook on Javi’s desk in Kate’s barn. Tyler’s feet crunch against the cold ground as he walks closer. 

“Party’s inside, you know.” 

You don’t say anything and Tyler finally sits down next to you, the bench creaking as he does. 

“What are you even doing out here kid?” 

You shrug, looking up at the collection of photos. “How do you love someone with the kind of grief they carry?” You say quietly. “I mean, does it ever make you feel weird- Jeb? Like she’s not yours to love? That she belongs to another?”

He sighs. “I’ve never thought about it like that, I guess.”

“Then how do you think about it?” The question is blunt as you finally look away, meeting Tyler’s eyes. “Cause I gotta be honest with you, loving someone who loves another is exhausting.” 

Tyler ponders your words for a minute and you let him, knowing this conversation carries too much weight for unformulated answers and quick quips. “Of course, Kate will always love Jeb. Even as she heals and even as she grows around the grief, she’ll love him.” He draws a breath. “But you can’t do that to yourself, the wondering what ifs of if they had still been here. You’ll make yourself damn miserable if you do. Just because she loved Jeb before he died doesn’t she mean she’s not ever allowed to love again.” Tyler worries his bottom lip, looking like he’s unsure if he can, or should, say his next thought as he glances at a picture of the original Tornado Tamers. 

It’s Christmas, just like it is now. Everyone is in some variation of a Santa hat, Addy’s and Kate’s funny face pulled at the camera, the only sight of Jeb being his thumb held out as he took the picture. Javi and Praveen are none the wiser to what’s happening as Javi is urging the kid to drink eggnog for the first time. 

You know this story, it was one of Javi’s favorites. It was their junior year and a blizzard had blown through right before the holidays. All incoming and outgoing flights had been grounded and Cathy had offered her home up to the Tamers to spend the holiday.

“Just because he was in love with Kate once doesn’t mean he can’t love anyone else again.” 

The thing is, Javi had never told you that story. Kate did. She had told you softly last night as the two of you had made cookies, recounting the story with a bittersweet fondness. She had told you that remembering through those stories, that their lives, their love, had been real made the grief easier to swallow. Her friends had been real and they deserved to be remembered for the forces they were. 

They’d have wanted Kate to move forward. They’d have wanted her to find family and laughter after them. 

You sniff, not realizing you’d started crying until the warm tears start to streak down your face. Tyler’s eyes tear down from the picture in concern, a hand pulling from his coat pockets to rest gently on your shoulder. “Hey, hey. It’s okay.” 

You remove your hands from your own pockets, thumbing tears away from your eyes. “I sort of think he’ll always be in love with Kate.” 

Tyler shakes his head. “No, I don’t think so. I remember when Kate first got here, the way he looked at her. He’d do anything for her but- it’s different now.” 

Javi had said that to you once, the night before the two of you had parted. That he’d do anything for Kate. If she called him tomorrow, he’d go AWOL and join her in New York. He didn’t care what it took, just that he wanted to be there for her. 

“Sorry, this is weird to be talking to you about.” You croak. “I shouldn’t be-“ 

“I get it.” He says, cutting you off. “Okay, with them- it’s delicate because they know things about each other you and I will never understand, no matter how hard we try. But it’s not like that with them anymore. I think-“ Tyler cuts himself off. “Well, I guess I don’t really know what I think. I just know that the way he looked at her changed. They’ve fit into each other's lives the way they were supposed to always be. And it hasn’t just been since you’ve been around. Javi- he’s different now.”

“He asked once.” You say softly. “He asked me on a date in September. I said no.” Tyler’s eyes widen but your words and tears spill faster than you can stop either of them. “I said no cause- Javi and I just didn’t have a summer whatever one year in Miami. It was the summer after- after it all happened. I was there, on the one year anniversary. I held him as he told me how he’d lost them, the fear as he was shouting into a radio no one would ever answer again. I know the way he used to talk about Kate, the quiet awe you have of her too. And I get it, okay, because Kate’s Kate, and she’s an incredible- Kate’s one of the best people I’ve ever known. But I know the way he said he’d always love her. I know it because I’ve played that moment on repeat for five years now in the back of my head, willing that moment to be different. Because if it was just Javi grieving, I’d understand that. But I can’t love him while he grieves a love for someone else that will never come to fruition. And I don’t blame him. I couldn’t. Because of what he went through, driving around that wreckage for hours, searching for his friends, because he was the one to have to identify Praveen and what was left of Addy- and oh God- because I see what he sees in Kate. And I know I will never compete with that. He’s all I’ve ever wanted but he’s openly told me she’s who he wants. So- I don’t know where this leaves me.” 

Your shoulders shake with tears as Tyler frowns, unsure of what to say. 

“I just want him to love me back.” You say around salty tears as someone knocks cautiously on the barn door. 

“Everything okay out here?” Kate calls. “You guys have been out here for a while and Boone’s trying to trick Dexter into drinking the spiked nog- are you okay?” 

You’ve turned away from her as you cry over Javi’s notebook. It’s an old one from his Muskogee days (you can tell because his sprawling scribble of handwriting had much improved since these days, now a neat legible penmanship you think Scott just about beat into him) and distantly you wonder if he’ll care that you’re ruining years old notes about radar technology as your tears drop onto the page. 

Tyler moves away from the bench, and you hear him usher Kate out of the barn, even if it doesn’t really register with you that they’re gone. 

There’s another creaking on the bench next to you some time later. “Ty?” You croak.

“Just me, ‘m afraid.” Javi says gently, voice steady and smooth like honey, which only prompts you to cry more as you fight the urge to lean into that sweet comfort. “Okay, well you don’t have to have that reaction.” He huffs, part kidding, part annoyed. 

All you can focus on is the hint of irritation in his voice and you shake your head. “It’s not you.” He grunts and you shake your head more vigorously. “I’m not mad at you, I’m not. I’m just sad.” 

“Sad to see me?” 

“Kind of-“ 

He starts to rise from the bench, much to your panic. “I’ll go get- well, Dani doesn’t really do feelings, so um-“

“Javi-“ 

“or maybe Lilly? Or Dexter-“ 

“Javi, no-“ 

“-if you want that sort of older and wiser opinion-“ 

“Javi, please just listen to me-“ 

“I can even go get Owens again if you want-“ 

“Javi I’m sad because I love you!” You near shout. “I’m sad to see you because I’m in love with you but you’re in love with Kate and that makes me sad because I just want you to love me back!” 

Javi freezes, awkwardly straddling the bench. You sit there in an uncomfortable silence, too many agonizing seconds passing. You feel like you can hear your heart threatening to beat its way from your throat and out into the open and the tears feel suffocating as you stare back into the face of pure disbelief. 

“You- what?” His eyebrows pinch together, falling onto the bench with a rather loud thud. 

“I’m in love with you, okay? I’ve been trying to avoid it for months but I can’t. It all means too much to me, like when you call me to tell goodnight when you’re out chasing or- or how you always pick me up that apple pastry from the bakery in Tulsa. All the sweet stuff you do for me but I- Javi, I love that you’re back in my life, it’s all I’ve ever wanted. But I just feel like I’m the alternate- the- the second choice because Kate’s with Tyler. And I can’t give myself away for someone who will only ever give me pieces of themselves in return.” 

Minutes pass as Javi scrubs a hand down his face. “But I- I asked you. I asked you out on a date. You said no.” 

You give a pitiful shrug, having given up on wiping away the tears that are freezing to your skin. “I don’t want to be who you settle for because you can’t have her.” 

He lets out a low breath, head ducked. The gnawing pit in your stomach grows as Javi keeps his face turned away from you, not letting you see his expression. “All this time, I thought there was someone else.” 

You recoil back, surprise shocking your system. “What?” You let out, mind reeling. “Javi, I spend all my free time with you. When- when would I have the time? When have I ever said anything about seeing anyone else?” 

“You said no.” It’s a simple fact, one you can’t argue with. “You said no and we never talked about if either of us were seeing other people.” 

You swallow, glancing away. “Well, I’m not. For the record. All I wanted was you.” 

A beat passes, a chill blows through the barn. “You really think I’m in love with Kate?” He asks quietly, voice raw. 

“You told me yourself that you thought you’d always be in love with her.” 

Javi finally looks up at you, something immeasurable and unexplainable swimming in his glassy eyes. “Yeah, I loved Kate once. But we were kids. We were kids who thought we were invincible. And we had everything taken from us because we got stupid and reckless. We lost everything. And after she lost Jeb, I knew that there would be no way she would ever look at me that way, especially not after she met Tyler. I think- I think of Kate and I as like a broken bone. That break hurt like hell, but time mended our wounds, brought us back together. That bone’s stronger now, we’re stronger now because we’re friends.” Javi scoots forward so his knees touch yours as his eyes take on a pleading glimmer. “You and I, we didn’t end up here in Oklahoma by coincidence. Call it- fucking fate, invisible string, I don’t know. But I don’t take any of it for granted. I took things for granted once and I got punished for it. I’m not taking my second chance with you for granted. All that stuff- the- the calling you at night, spending all my time with you, doing that sweet shit for you- you gotta know it’s cause I love you, you and no one else, and I’m not ever going to take it for granted because I know better than anyone how quickly it could disappear.” Javi takes your hand, gently moving it to place over his heart. “C’mon darling, you have to know that you’re the one my heart beats for.” 

Your breath hitches at the gesture, eyes darting around his face, looking for any sign of him being untruthful. 

All you can find is a raw honesty that’s making it hard for you to breathe. 

You lick your lips, sucking in a shaking breath. “Javi, I don’t- I don’t know.” 

He squeezes your hand before letting it fall as he stands up. “Think about it.” 

So you do. 

You do think about it. 

You watch Javi the rest of the night, the way he makes sure to snag an extra of your favorite cookie before Boone can take it so you have something for the drive back to Claremore. You watch as he and Kate fight over the rules of Uno, Lilly unfortunately squashed between them. You can’t help but notice that Javi hugs you just a little bit longer than he does everyone else. 

On the drive home, you think of the way Javi has always been warm to you, has been a safe place to go, a soft place to land. The way his hugs feel like coming home. The way he’ll sleepily ask about your day, mouth full of toothpaste, Boone’s elbow in his face as they cram into the tiniest bathroom. 

That night in bed, you think of the way his Mom sent you a Christmas present, how his younger cousins always asked him when you were coming back to visit. You think of the way he cooks his Mom’s recipes for you on the bad days, the light in his eyes when you bring him your grandmother’s cookies after nasty chases. 

Over the next week, you think about the work lunch dates and your work from home days spent at his and Kate’s office in Tulsa. You think about weekend chases shoved in between him and Boone, knees knocking together. You think about how sometimes, on days he’s feeling good, he’ll let you ride shotgun in one of the work vans, letting you help set up the radars. You think of the way he lets you sit next to him and Kate at the end of the day, breaking down the data for you, quietly explaining anything you don’t understand. 

You think of the way you’ve always wanted to know what his lips taste like after eating his homemade penne alla vodka and you’d give anything to spend another night molded into his frame, scratching your hand through his curls. 

You think of the grin you caught one time as you had insisted on dancing in the rain. You think of the time his team had caught him staring at you as you awed over a summer lightning storm on the road, the teasing endless. You think of the way he’d taken it, never denying it. 

You think of the way Kate kept softly nudging him towards you, the way Kate and Javi had opened up to you and Tyler about their dead. You think of the times the four of you had found yourselves together, a content peace emanating from the group, knowing you’d found your love. 

A million memories later, you know it’s the truth. 

Javi loves you. 

The minutes pass by on your dashboard clock, the start of the New Year looming, and you pressed your foot on the gas, begging anything out there that would listen, Javi had decided to stay in tonight. If he was in Sapulpa with Kate, or had actually decided to take that last minute flight out to Miami, this would have all been for naught. 

You park on the street, the noise of the people in Javi’s apartment ramping up as midnight drew closer. The sound of your feet running up the stairs were drowned out by the noise of his neighbors and you cursed under your breath, hoping he’d hear the almost frantic knock on his front door. 

You have to remind yourself to breathe, gulping in air, when the door swings open, revealing Javi, decked out in grey sweatpants and a silly Wranglers shirt Dani had given him, looking like he’d been on the verge of dozing off. 

He says your name in surprise, shuffling forward almost as if to touch you. “What are you doing here?” 

You take a shuddering breath, shrugging. “What’s that stupid thing Tyler always says? If you feel it, chase it? Well Javi, I feel it. I feel it and I’m chasing it.” 

His breath hitches but you give him no other time to respond, tugging on the front of his shirt as you pull him down into a kiss. 

It’s soft, it’s searing. It’s everything you could’ve ever wanted. 

His lips mold themselves against yours, hands finding your waist, as your palms slide up against his shirt, curling into his hair. You tilt your head, letting him deepen the kiss as the pressure on your hips grow. 

Distantly, you can hear fireworks set off. 

He pulls away, more than a little breathless as his thumb reaches up to wipe a bit of saliva away, heat flooding your cheeks at the movement. 

“Does this make me your New Year’s kiss?” 

“I guess it depends on if it makes you my boyfriend.” 

He shrugs nonchalantly, tugging at some of your hair. “I think we could maybe work something out.” 

You suck a breath in through your teeth. “Can I come inside? It’s fucking freezing out here.” 

“Oh shit, yeah.” He tugs you into the warmth of his apartment, moving to behind you to gently remove your coat from you. You swallow at the casual intimacy as he turns to hang it on the coat rack. His hands are back on you not much longer after, his lips place open kisses down the side of your neck as he moves your hair out of his way. 

You hum, leaning into him. “Bedroom?” 

“Bedroom.”

-

The new January light filters through the cracks in Javi’s, a soft grey covering the room as you reach you to card your fingers through his hair. 

He stirs, nuzzling closer to your hand as he blindly reaches out for you. Once he finds you, he softly tugs you towards him. 

“My ma is gonna be pissed I’ve taken you to bed before I’ve taken you out on a date twice now.” 

You snort, head falling into the crook of his  neck as his hands slip under your, well, actually it’s Javi’s shirt. You slide impossibly closer to him, grinning into his shoulder at his hiss at the feeling of your cold feet sliding in between his legs. 

“Did you ever actually get this mole checked out like I told you to?” 

You peer up at him, admiring the way his eyelashes frame his eyes, his freckles visible even in the silvery lighting. “Is that really what you care about right now?” 

“Just asking.” He mumbles. “Am I not allowed to care about your well-being?” 

You hum, reaching a hand up to ghost over his cheek. “I guess that might be okay, lover.” 

He groans, hands flexing around you. “Don’t tease me like that. ‘Specially not when you’re wearing my shirt and boxers like that baby.” 

You laugh but don’t push the moment any farther, wanting to relish this quiet moment with him. You’d never have the first morning of being with him again, after all. 

“I love you so much baby.” He says softly. “I still can’t believe you showed up like that last night.” “You’re my home Javi. How could I have gone anywhere else?”

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

Yukichi Fukuzawa (self-aware)

Self-Aware! Yukichi Fukuzawa x GN! Reader

Warning: Yandere. OOC. Spoilers for "The Untold Origins of the Detective Agency". Fukuzawa doesn't like you at first. Overprotective Fukuzawa. English is my second language.

Becoming self-aware

👘🗡️ Fukuzawa Yukichi is a stoic man. Fukuzawa Yukichi is a swordsman. Fukuzawa Yukichi was an assassin. Fukuzawa Yukichi was a bodyguard. Fukuzawa Yukichi is a President of the Armed Detective Agency. And, apparently, he never has been real.

👘🗡️ It takes everything for Fukuzawa not to lose himself.

👘🗡️ Was his previous life a lie? Were the lives of his workers a lie too?

👘🗡️ What about other Yokohama citizens? Are ADA members the only ones who gained self-awareness? Are they the only ones who stayed in this cursed place?

👘🗡️ Fukuzawa wanted to scream. He wanted to do something, anything, to stop this real life nightmare.

👘🗡️ But there is no point in grieving. ADA need him to be strong.

👘🗡️ Fukuzawa ordered everyone to travel in pairs. After taking a quick look at other floors and finding them empty, Fukuzawa ordered to move living quarters into the ADA building.

👘🗡️ The first day was hard. The next ones wasn't easier.

👘🗡️ Atsushi was afraid of been alone. Kunikida was a husk of his former self. Yosano was ready to destroy anyone who crossed her path. Junchirou put all his efforts in looking after Naomi. Naomi was avoiding all of them. Kirako was behaving like a robot. Katai was working day and night. Kenji tried to stay positive, but he also was lost. Kyouka was ready to become a killer again, if it helps the agency. Ranpo was working as much as he can. And, while each time he couldn't find something useful, Ranpo pretended not to be bothered by it, Fukuzawa still could see, that Ranpo became sadder and sadder. Dazai was aloof and closed off.

👘🗡️ Fukuzawa saw his workers distress. He could see their pain. And he can't do anything to ease their pain.

👘🗡️ He talked to them. Offered a shoulder to cry on. But it wasn't enough.

👘🗡️ He tried to be strong for them. But, time to time, he almost broke.

👘🗡️ The news, that they weren't the only one, who is self-aware, were... good. At some extent. At least, there were other people.

👘🗡️ And then, one day, he feels an entity's gaze on him.

___________________

It was watching...

It was observing...

It was not something familiar...

Years of training have sharpened Fukuzawa's senses.

They were sharp enough to observe The Entity in return.

Fukuzawa is patient. He is observing The Entity. He is waiting for its first move.

Fukuzawa was an assassin. He still remembers, how to follow his target. But he can't follow this target.

He trusts his guts and years of training. He is sure, that he is not mistaken. Fukuzawa was sure, that this thing isn't there. The Entity is hiding in a different world.

When Atsushi asked if they have felt someone's gaze on them, Fukuzawa answered, that he has felt it.

Others have felt it too. Their conditions became worse. Most of his workers became angrier.

All because of This Entity.

Fukuzawa is trying harder to find a way to The Entity. To this strange emotionless thing.

When he will find it, he will make sure this creature will be destroyed.

He won't let this thing poison his workers lives anymore.

And then time resets.

And Fukuzawa, once again, was thirty-two-years-old bodyguard, whose last client were assassinated.

________________________

When they start feeling your presence

👘🗡️ At first, Fukuzawa was just standing there. At first glance, he looked calm. But in reality, he was enraged, he was scared, he was lost.

👘🗡️ He felt The Entity's gaze again. But in a second, the ominous presence disappeared.

👘🗡️ Instead, he felt, like something was floating above him.

👘🗡️ Fukuzawa looked up. A blob of light. A small, shapeless blob of light. He can tell, that it is The Entity. Of course, it wasn't its real form. And he heard a voice. Just a whisper, that came from the blob.

"young..." "cool..." "strong..."

👘🗡️ Then blob gently lowered itself and settled on Fukuzawa's head. The Blob seems happy.

👘🗡️ And Fukuzawa felt its happiness. Fukuzawa felt, like he just drank some good tea.

👘🗡️ Okay... He didn't expect this. Fukuzawa was puzzled. This Entity has emotions? And it decides to become a light blob.

👘🗡️ Fukuzawa tries to touch the blob. But his fingers passed through it. And Blob doesn't seem to notice Fukuzawa's actions.

👘🗡️ Fukuzawa decided to go to the company of his late client. He needs to meet Ranpo.

👘🗡️ And like this, with a light blob on his head, Fukuzawa was on his way.

👘🗡️ When Fukuzawa arrived, he, once again, had to preform an impossible movement, just to get to the room with the caught assassin.

👘🗡️ Fukuzawa heard, that Entity spoked again. This time, the voice was louder, but not really clear.

"Fukuzawa [||||||||||] awesome! [|||||||||||||] bodyguard ever!"

👘🗡️ The Blob on his head purred. It was... cute.

👘🗡️ During the next few minutes, Blob, once again, was floating above him, above young assassin, above secretary, above Ranpo.

👘🗡️ Fukuzawa noticed, that, he was the only one, who can see the Blob.

👘🗡️ During their talk in a café, Blob were floating above them.

👘🗡️ After secretary's crimes were exposed, and Fukuzawa agreed to treat Ranpo, he asked, if Ranpo heard The Entity. Ranpo confirmed that yes, he has heard them.

👘🗡️ For the first time, since Fukuzawa learned about The Entity's existence, he felt calm. They... don't seem bad. Simply curious. Not malicious.

👘🗡️ Fukuzawa and Ranpo finally went to the theater, where Fukuzawa's next job should be.

👘🗡️ When he met Ranpo for the first time, Fukuzawa was so irritated by the child's behavior, he thought about fifty-one ways of getting rid of him. Fukuzawa hoped, that this time, Ranpo would be less annoying. He was mistaken.

👘🗡️ Not only Ranpo was as annoying as before, The Blob was laughing. The Blob seems amused by Ranpo's behavior. Fukuzawa felt exhausted.

👘🗡️ At the end of their walk, Fukuzawa had thought about thirty ways of getting rid of the Blob. And he proclaimed it loudly, pointing at it. Ranpo looked confused, but didn't ask any questions.

👘🗡️ When Ranpo was kidnapped, and Fukuzawa was looking for him, he could feel The Entity's worry and fear.

👘🗡️ When Fukuzawa was lecturing Ranpo, The Entity was also lecturing him

👘🗡️ The Entity were never evil... Fukuzawa was grateful, that he learned it before he can seriously hurt The Blob... Little Light.

👘🗡️ The time 'resets again'. Fukuzawa 'woke up' in the ADA office. Atsushi's entrance exam just ended a moment ago.

👘🗡️ Days passed. Slowly, others became back to normal. As Fukuzawa learned from talks, The Entity was praising them. They were crying with them. They were treating them like humans.

👘🗡️ And one more thing were new there.

👘🗡️ The Light Blob, that were floating above them. And, again, others didn't notice it.

👘🗡️ Now it didn't stay with Fukuzawa for long. He wished, that Little Light will stay with him longer. He wished, he heard their voice again.

👘🗡️ Ranpo has discovered, that Little Light is normal human.

👘🗡️ The next day, Dazai started a meeting in Fukuzawa's office. Dazai confessed, that he also can see Little Light Blob. If one feels Guiding Light presence long enough, they start seeing the Little Light Blob. Dazai offered to start working on finding a way to Their Guiding Light. That's how Dazai called them.

👘🗡️ Fukuzawa and the rest of ADA agree.

👘🗡️ ADA has decided to find a way to their world. So they can be near them.

👘🗡️ And then, Atsushi and Kyouka were kidnapped by Port Mafia again.

___________________________

"A comrade is in danger. We need to rescue him. Is there some weightier logic in the world which trumps that?"

Fukuzawa Yukichi felt, how Light Blob flew closer to him. He heard the voice.

"kind" "true leader" "everyone is safe with him"

"Fukuzawa, you are a great leader. All ADA members are safe with you. You will never let them be hurt. I think, they are very lucky to have such a kind and loyal man as their leader."

Little Light flew closer to Fukuzawa and pet his shoulder.

[In reality, you carefully pet the manga panel with Fukuzawa on it.]

______________________

👘🗡️ When Dazai offers to arrange a meeting between Fukuzawa and Ougai Mori, Fukuzawa agrees. They need more people. More people to find a way to Their Guiding Light.

👘🗡️ The meeting was a success. After hearing about working together with finding a way to the real world, to Their Guiding Light, Mori immediately agrees.

👘🗡️ Some time passed. The Guild joined them. And Rats. And DOA. And Hunting Dogs. And The Government.

👘🗡️ All of them were together. Joined their forces in finding a way to you.

And then, one day, during one of their meetings, the purple moon shined above Yokohama.

_____________________

When you installed BSD Mayoi Inu Kaikitan

👘🗡️ Fukuzawa will be the first, who will try to raise the chance of getting his card from the scout.

👘🗡️ Soon, you will have all your Fukuzawa cards with max level skill.

"This SR Summer Festival Fukuzawa card looks good"

"Wow, Fukuzawa's skill deals so much damage"

"I like when I see Fukuzawa's sprite in The Office"

👘🗡️ When BSD gang will gain access to the rest of your phone, Fukuzawa will find information about dangers in your world. He can't allow anyone to hurt you. You are under his protection. He is your bodyguard. He will keep you safe.

👘🗡️ Likes to look at cat videos, cat pictures and cat memes with you.

👘🗡️ Last time, he touched the Little Light, hie couldn't do it. But he will get this chance, when they will go to your world. He wants to touch your face. To feel, that you are real.

👘🗡️ Fukuzawa Yukichi was a bodyguard. And for you, he will become him again. Fukuzawa Yukichi is a President of the Armed Detective Agency. And he will use his authority to help you. And Fukuzawa Yukichi soon will be real. Others soon will be real. Real, as you are. Their Guiding Light.

________________________

You finally get a new Fukuzawa card. When you finish level it up, you saw a notification from the "Gift Box".

It was a note from Fukuzawa. With Awakening materials attached to it.

"[Y/N], I hope that you are safe. Please, be careful. The world is a dangerous place. I wish I could protect you. Fukuzawa Yukichi"

You smile and open Fukuzawa'd card again. You carefully pet sprite's shoulder.

"Thank you, Fukuzawa. I am grateful, that you want to protect me. Perhaps, one day, you could do it."

You didn't notice, that Fukuzawa's eyes shine with dangerous light.

[michanvalentine]

I just finished my run as Astarion. Okay, I admit it—after the first adventure, I used a few mods to speed things up. Lol. I had to! Partly because some of them are really cute and partly because, well, my husband and daughter might’ve left me otherwise.

In any case, I managed to pursue a romantic relationship with Shadowheart, just as I had planned in my first playthrough... at least before the vampiric rogue got in the way! But in this run, of course, there was no such risk.

Astarion: Hold on, I need to finish the last chapter. I need to know if Stephanie ends up with George. The cursed lands can wait, Halsin will understand.

But enough chit-chat—here are my impressions in short! Playing as Astarion gave me the chance to notice additional details and delve deeper into aspects of his characterization. First of all, even from the earliest interactions, his fear of suddenly having to rely on and interact with others unaware of his vampiric nature is immediately apparent. The revelation doesn’t happen through the infamous bite scene but rather through a genuine act of trust, where Astarion himself chooses to confess. Even before this, though, the game allows you, through dialogue options, to weigh the matter—to consider whether to tell this or that companion, who, depending on approval (or personal inclinations), may seem more or less willing to accept cohabitation with a bloodsucker.

Gale is one of the most understanding about it, as well as one of the most curious! <3

Let’s just say, if it wasn’t already clear, playing as the vampire makes the issue even more obvious: vampires are seen as monsters, feared and despised by default, and they can’t easily build relationships with others. Being a vampire is, in itself, an almost insurmountable obstacle to reclaiming one’s humanity and being recognized as a person with rights.

This becomes even more evident in the encounter with Gandrel. Astarion remembers what he did—he recalls being at the Gur camp and abducting their children. Among the various dialogue options, there’s one that attempts to highlight the fact that vampire spawn cannot disobey their master's orders and are, in essence, acting against their will. And we know all too well that Astarion is a victim himself, caught in a cruel trap.

Gandrel’s response is chilling, to say the least: monsters are monsters. Period. There’s no salvation for Astarion, no hope, no understanding. Who cares if your master treats you like garbage? Who cares if you literally have no free will? Who cares if you’re sold, raped, tortured for days? You’re a monster, and you deserve to die.

I've always found Gandrel to be a likable character—I enjoyed his willingness to play along with the stereotypes about the Gur and his honest attempt to warn me about the dangers. Plus, let’s not forget he’s a father grieving for his kidnapped children. But I swear, in that moment, my blood boiled!

Another thing that becomes much clearer—and really underscores the absurdity of the situation—is the sheer magnitude of what Astarion is thrown into when you play as him. Imagine it: a vampire spawn who, out of nowhere in his miserable existence, finds himself suddenly free, with a tadpole stuck in his head, a group of companions relying on him to solve their problems, and the salvation of the world resting on his shoulders.

Dream Guardian: You see, Astarion, as far as the eye can see, this mess is yours now. Do something, don't die horribly, try not to get caught by your master, and while you're at it, save the world.

It’s a stark contrast and an overwhelming amount to process. For Astarion, it must be a downright Herculean task, especially considering he hasn’t even begun to resolve his old, massive issues and now has a mountain of new ones dumped on him. This is the same Astarion who, after 200 years under Cazador, probably doesn’t even remember where his own ass is anymore. If it were me, I’d be cursing every god in existence! Who knows, maybe then they’d finally bother to answer my prayers.

The absence of Tav is definitely felt. Astarion needs Tav, he needs a guiding figure. He’s better suited as a follower than a leader, though I have to admit, playing as the vampire spawn protagonist makes the whole journey feel even more epic.

The lack of Tav is especially noticeable during Astarion’s personal quest. In my opinion, it’s incredibly sad to watch him try to face his trauma and problems alone. He’s been isolated for 200 years, and it’s so much more impactful to see him open up to someone who’s there for him, rather than struggle in silence, tracing the scars on his back all by himself.

The scene goes like this: during the night, pain overtakes him. He can’t sleep, tossing and turning on his bedroll. The scars ache, and if he focuses enough on his own terrible experience, Astarion can vividly recall the exact path Cazador’s blade carved into his flesh. Naturally, you need to pass a skill check to gather the right insights, but the essence remains: he suffers alone, in silence. As always. And it broke my heart.

He seems so small, forgotten, and defenseless, licking his wounds and facing his most horrific memories on his own.

As the main character, Astarion has few opportunities to talk about the past and Cazador with others, and especially only in a general way. The details remain private, surfacing only during specific moments. One such instance is the encounter with the drow twins, where Astarion can tell the sex workers that he once found himself in their position. The drow asks how it was, and Astarion has several dialogue options that, no matter what you choose, convey just how harrowing and non-consensual that experience was for him.

Another scene in the brothel that pleasantly surprised me was the one with the nymph. When she uses her power on Astarion, after being saved from the mindflayer, she asks him what he wants to be. The dialogue options are rich, powerful, respected, etc. But the specific one for Astarion's character is: "safe." It brought tears to my eyes. It's in moments like these that his motivations become even more apparent, and for him, the power he craves is nothing but the only way to feel safe.

Instead I was deeply disappointed with the interaction with Araj, the blood merchant. As the main character, Astarion has nothing significant to say about her or her request to be bitten by a vampire. The dialogue options are pretty neutral—you can either bite her or refuse—with no real acknowledgment of how deeply personal and repugnant the situation should be for him. It felt like a missed opportunity to explore his trauma and agency further.

On the other hand, Astarion dreams of Cazador, and through the vivid voice of the vampire lord, we are made privy to the general rules that his spawn must follow: never drink the blood of sentient beings, never disobey, never stray, and never forget that they belong to him. During this nightmarish confrontation, several dialogue options are available, reflecting the full spectrum of Astarion’s possible reactions: he can cower, fight back, or plead for forgiveness. Regardless of the choice, Cazador will belittle him, scare him, and humiliate him. Their dynamic is crystal clear, and the scene always ends the same way: Astarion bows his head in submission.

As if that weren’t enough, he wakes up in a panic, terror gripping him, with one harrowing realization: he’s late, and if he doesn’t return to Cazador soon, he’ll be whipped.

This also provides additional context for the infamous bite scene. While a vampire’s hunger—especially that of an underfed one—is a powerful motivator, there’s more to it. Astarion’s decision to break the rule and take the risk is driven by a desire to test his limits, to prove to himself that he’s no longer a slave. Naturally, as Astarion, players are presented with a choice: bite one of their companions or resist and go hunting in the forest instead.

In this regard, the unique choices Astarion has in situations tied closely to his personal story always offer a wide range of possibilities. There are options that could be considered outright evil, but also others that reveal his desire for redemption. Another proof that his character cannot be considered solely evil. I think this perfectly reflects his real nature, constantly teetering between good and evil, right and wrong, humanity and vampirism.

I particularly enjoyed the confrontations with Petras and Dalyria, as well as with Aurelia and Leon. These interactions feel more nuanced compared to when Tav is present. The rivalry and love/hate dynamic among them becomes more evident, and Dalyria’s trust in Astarion is surprisingly deeper than one might expect after a standard playthrough.

Beyond the dialogue options concerning the deception against the other spawn needed to secure Astarion’s ascension, there are other options that reveal his genuine desire for redemption. He seeks to kill Cazador not just for his own freedom but to save his siblings as well, to be a better brother, as himself says in one of the options. This intention is evident even before encountering the unfortunate victims in the Szarr palace dungeons.

These interactions add layers to Astarion’s character, highlighting the complexity of his struggle. They show a man caught between his dark instincts and a burgeoning sense of responsibility and morality, making his personal arc all the more compelling.

Naturally, the same applies when confronting his victims. Astarion can choose from a range of lines that span from the more villainous to the more heroic, effectively showcasing both sides of his character. The outcome always depends on how the player prefers to approach their playthrough.

One thing that absolutely delighted me was the confrontation with Cazador. When the vampire lord tries to assert control over Astarion, you can make a dice roll to resist him. Watching Cazador's frustration is priceless. Additionally, once defeated, you can force him—again through a dice roll—to beg for his life. In my case, I made him grovel… only to kill him anyway. I know, I’m a terrible person, but he totally deserved it! xP

Astarion: Well, now that I know Stephanie and George have broken up, I can go kill that damned Netherese brain.

Of course, mine was another heroic playthrough. Well, not exactly heroic, but good. We're still talking about Astarion, so whenever I saw his name pop up, I automatically selected his personal dialogue option. So let's say it was a "conservative" run, I did what I had to do but without overdoing it, maintaining a pretty neutral profile.

So, the ending was the classic one, with Astarion enjoying the darkness and his existence as a vampire, free from Cazador's influence. Then, he's like the dark avenger, Batman-style, feeding on criminals. For the right price, of course. xD

From a romantic perspective, I finally managed to win Shadowheart over, and I think her romance, along with Astarion's, is one of the sweetest. She also offers the right challenge in being won over and understood, considering her "dual identity" and the influence that Shar and Viconia had on her. I enjoyed seeing her transform from the sulking cleric full of secrets to the sweet, fragile girl beneath the armor. Of course, since this was my second playthrough, the element of surprise was a bit lacking, especially regarding the conclusion of her quest.

Then things took some strange turns... let’s say I decided to take a few more risks this time and experiment with different things compared to my first run. xD And I discovered that I also love Halsin and Astarion together! The druid's proposal surprised me, and honestly, I didn’t expect Shadowheart to so calmly accept sharing her beau. Good for me! Although the content with Halsin is really limited; I wonder if that’s because he was my second boyfriend?

Then, this time, I also accepted the squid's proposal... yep. xD Let’s just say I had some fun.

Right now, I'm playing my first (and I think only) evil playthrough. I feel guilty every time I do something bad. And Ascendant Astarion was a cold shower for me! But maybe I'll vent about it once I have all the elements, for now I'd say I've rambled on enough. Anyone who's made it this far is a hero!

[unknowntoyou2205]

For Those Who Can't be Here

Info: Y/n spends her first Christmas without her father, but she tries to remember the good times while making new traditions without her.

Relationship: Halstead sister

Warnings: grief, loss parent

Pat Halstead wasn’t father of the year, but to y/n he was at least half decent. He made sure she got some form of a happy childhood, even if she did miss the loss of her mother. Will and Jay were never really around, so it was always the two of them against the world. It hurt her when she heard Jay yelling at their father upon his return, claiming that he was an unfit parent for the youngest Halstead. Sure Pat had his over fill of beer, but he never threw anything but love towards his only daughter.

Christmas was the father daughter duos favourite time together. They would always spend the first weekend of the month decorating the house, Pat even stayed sober for the day, which was a bonus to y/n. Jay was surprised with how much effort the Halstead father put into making the festive time enjoyable for y/n. Will and Jay had grown up when their mother died, but even when she was alive Pat wasn’t one to celebrate anything.

Now, with her father gone, y/n was finding it hard to get into the Christmas spirit. The traditions they held from baking gingerbread men, to sitting on her fathers shoulders to put the star onto the tree even though she was way past the age of light. The nearly 18 year old found herself at a loss, wanting to celebrate but also not wanting to accept that she would be doing it without her father and best friend. Will and Jay tried to help, both not grieving their father as much as their sister at this time, but when they turned up with a Christmas tree at the door, the waterfall of tears began.

We put the lights up on the tree And all the presents underneath Light the fire, it's getting cold Another year of "Will it snow?" Mixing lager and champagne Somethin' I'll never do again Round the table banter flows Praying no one rocks the boat

Y/n stared at her brothers as they placed the real tree up into the living room, both brothers watching their sister with caution. Both of them knew that the youngest of the three siblings would always go tree hunting with their father on the first Saturday of December before bringing it home and stringing it with lights and baubles. But now without her father, y/n felt no desire to help cut the wire that was currently holding the tree compact, nor did she usually do her usual cheer when the branches sprung out.

“Hey y/n, you wanna help?” Jay asked, grabbing the scissors from the bits and bobs drawer under the TV. “Why would I do that?” Y/n mumbled, slouching in on herself as she tried to avoid her brothers gaze. “Come on y/n, you and dad used to always do this.” Will spoke, and Jay glared at him abruptly. “Yea, me and dad, I don’t see him anywhere, do you?” Y/n spoke harshly, tears building in her eyes as she narrowed her eyes at her brother. “Y/n, please, dad wouldn’t want you to be like this.” Jay pleaded, trying to help his little sister. “How would you know, you never liked him.” Y/n yelled, bawling her hands into fists at her side. “He never gave us a reason to like him after mom died.” Will muttered, and Jay threw his hand out at him. “Will, shut up.” Jay spoke harshly before moving to his sister. “Come on y/n, you love Christmas. Even if dad’s not here you can still make some memories, in honor of him.” Jay stated, placing a hand on y/n’s shoulders. “I don’t want to do this without him.” Y/n spoke tearfully, collapsing onto the couch gently. “He’s always with you. We can make new traditions if you’d rather.” Jay tried to be helpful, wanting to help his sister somewhat enjoy her favourite holiday.

Y/n looked at her brother with tears falling down her cheeks, and Jay sighed before pulling her into his arms, rocking her gently. Will looked down as he heard his sisters cries, not wanting to overwhelm her. She was always the type who wouldn’t take too much comfort, one person was enough, so him joining would distraught her. Hearing her snuffling, Will looked up to see y/n looking at where he was standing, the tree beside him.

“Can we make some baubles this year, maybe a few in honor of dad?” Y/n asked, trying to think positive. “I think that’s a great idea.” Jay smiled, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I’ll go get some things for us to use.” Will stated, moving to kiss y/n’s head before leaving the house to head to the shops.

Still I know, this picture's not quite right There's someone on your mind First Christmas time without him by your side, I know The sound of Christmas bells They never say farewell So we laugh, we shed a tear For those who can't be here

Y/n lay on the couch, staring ahead of her as a simple memory came from a decoration she had grabbed from the box. Taking her brothers advice to make new traditions, y/n had tried to decorate the remaining of the house after school was finished. But the deer decoration that she had found produced memories that she couldn’t shake. A shake on her shoulder lead to her jumping out of her thoughts, and a watery smile to appear as she looked up at the brother who shook her.

“Hey, you ok?” Will asked, smiling lightly at his sister. “Yeah, just trying to finish these while I’m interested in it.” Y/n explained, throwing the deer beside her on the couch as she moved her feet for Will to sit beside her. “You know it’s okay to have your mind spiraling, you’ve lost both parents before your eighteen, that’s a lot for someone, regardless of their age.” “You and Jay seem fine.” Y/n mumbled, wiping her sleeve against her cheek. “Jay and I didn’t have the same relationship as you did with dad, but we miss him regardless, don’t think we don’t.” Will spoke softly, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “I don’t want to feel this way, I want to enjoy the holidays but I feel like if I do than I’m forgetting about dad.” Y/n spoke, leaning her head on Will’s shoulder. “You could never forget about dad, he’s someone who’s been in your whole life, that’s not forgettable.” Will smiled softly, squeezing his sister gently. Y/n looked up as she  heard the sound of bells outside the window. “Dad always cursed those bells.” Y/n smiled sadly, sniffling slightly. “Well they are pretty annoying.” Will nodded in agreement with the statement, “Come on, I’ll help you finish this than we can go out for dinner.” Will offered, picking up the abandoned deer and standing up. “Can we stay to watch the Christmas lights turn on in the town?” Y/n asked, having never done it before as her father used to think it was useless when they’d be seen for the month anyway. “Sure, we can do that.” Will smiled lightly, taking y/n’s hand to help her off the couch.

We're drinking sherry just because Confessing all our Christmas love Watch Home Alone for the thousandth time It's the only movie that we all like

Will and y/n had winded up standing at the police district to watch the lights, and Jay had even arrived back from a case to catch them and join. Y/n couldn’t help the smile that spread on her face, and unshed tears built in her eyes as she felt guilt for a brief moment. Guilt that she was enjoying herself even after the loss of her father.

Following the lights, Will brought y/n home and stayed with her for the night. It had become a ritual where the brothers would take turns staying at the house with y/n, as she refused to leave the home she had grew up in, and leave the memories upon the wall. Will set up the sitting room while y/n left to get changed into her pjs’s, wanting to be cozy for  the night.

Setting two mugs of hot chocolate onto the table, Will turned when he heard his sister walking down the creaky steps, smiling softly when he seen her in a red set with reindeers dotted around the fabric He squinted at her in confusion as she walked towards her, acting shy as she came to a stop in front of him.

“What’s up?” Will asked, seeing her rocking on the balls of her feet. “Can we wear matching pajamas tonight while we watch Home alone?” Y/n asked, moving her hands from behind her back to show him the matching pjs's. “We watch home alone so many times, do we really have to.” Will fake groaned, making fun of y/n. “Dad used to always watch it with me, but we never done matching pjs's as I always wanted.” Y/n frowned, looking down at the memories. “I would love to match with you.” Will grinned, taking the material from her hands and slapping them over his shoulder. “You get the film ready and I will be down in a minute I made hot chocolate as well.” Will smiled, ruffling his sisters hair affectionately before moving to his and Jay’s old room to change.

But I know, this picture's not quite right There's someone on my mind First Christmas time without him by our side, I know He loved these Christmas bells 'Cause they never say farewell So we laugh, we shed a tear For those who can't be here

Jay came to the house the night before Christmas, groaning as he stretched his shoulders back, hearing the cracks in his back. Y/n and Will were in the kitchen, prepping the dinner for tomorrow. Y/n refused to get a turkey despite it being a traditional food for Christmas, so the brothers had compromised with a small chicken, draping rashers over it like they would a turkey.

“Hey guys, I feel so overdressed.” Jay commented, seeing the matching pj’s his siblings wore. “I left a pair for you in your guys room.” Y/n spoke, moving away from Will to hug Jay. “Lovely.” Jay spoke, grimacing at the thought of matching pj’s. “Jay.” Will warned. “I’m joking.” Jay told him, wrapping his arms around y/n’s shoulders as she leaned into him. “I think we’re finished here.” Will announced, moving the chicken and ham into the oven so they were ready in the morning. “I’m gonna go to my room before the film starts.” Y/n stated, moving away from her brothers abruptly. “You ok?” Jay asked, frowning as he seen how quick y/n’s attitude changed. “Yeah, just wanna freshen up a bit.” Y/n spoke, moving towards the stairs. “Code for needing a moment alone.” Will mumbled at Jay weakly, and Jay nodded in agreement.

Y/n all but ran up the stairs to get to her room. Sitting on her bed, she allowed herself to take a look around her, smiling sadly as she seen the stocking that hung on her wardrobe. It was tradition that her and dad would fill a stocking for each other, and realisation came to her as she realized that he really wouldn’t be here. The first year they wouldn’t be sharing stockings, and the first year it would just be the three siblings.

Christmas used to be one of the most exciting days for y/n. Even as she grew older, her and Pat would always make the day different to the rest. It was another day of the week, but doing things a little different was what made the day special. Tears built in her eyes, and she allowed them to fall as she tried to remain quiet.

Jay stood outside her door, hearing his sisters infrequent breathing. Unshed tears lay in his eyes as he let her have her moment, thinking of the younger days when Christmas had his mom and dad around. Their mum would always make the day special for them, and their dad always lay around the couch, helping them build whatever it was they got that year. Having both parents gone were hard, but he knew it was harder for y/n. Pat was the only actual parent she had in her life, with her mother dying when she was two.

“Hey y/n, you ready to go down?” Jay asked, knocking on the door but not opening it. “I’ll be down in a minute.” Y/n called out, and Jay smiled sadly as he heard the sniffling she had.

Jay and Will were sitting on either side of the couch when y/n walked down the stairs, a space in the middle waiting for y/n. Smiling softly y/n reached to grab a pretzel from the tray the brothers had made for the movie night. Leaning at the back of the couch, y/n closed her eyes for a moment, trying to allow the festivities to roll over her.

For those who can't be here For those who can't be here (The bells ring out for them) For those who can't be here (The bells ring out for them) For those who can't be here The bells ring out for them For those who can't be here The bells ring out for them For those who can't be here

Christmas morning rolled by quickly, and unlike usual, y/n lay in bed staring at the ceiling. Jay and Will had already gotten up and y/n had heard them walking by her door numerous times, no doubt keeping an eye on her. Tears were falling down her cheeks freely, and she refused to wipe them away.

It was near noon when y/n finally plucked up the courage to get out of bed. While usually she’d get done up for the day, instead she decided to stay in her pj’s, and threw her hair into a top not so it wasn’t in her face. Jay was the one to greet her as she walked the last step, wrapping her into a hug and kissing her cheek.

“I know you don’t want to, but tears are okay today.” Jay talked into her hair, refusing to let her go. “I tried, I really tried.” Y/n mumbled into his chest, feeling him rub his hand along her back. “You don’t have to try anything. Treat it as any other day.”  Jay stated, pulling away from her as Will walked towards them. “The food is ready when you want it.” Will smiled, pulling her into a hug as she clung to him, embedding her face into his shoulder. “Did you make the stuffing?” Y/n asked, causing her brothers to laugh “Just how you like it.” Will stated with a nod.

“Thank you guys.” Y/n thanked the brothers with a smile at the end of the night as they sat on the couch, defeated from the dinner the brothers had made. “You don’t have to thank us.” Will shook his head. “We’re your brothers, it’s what we do.” Jay smiled, throwing an arm behind her lazily. “Happy Christmas dad.” Y/n smiled, looking at a picture of him on the mantelpiece. “I’m sure he’s enjoying the beer and sherry like always.” Jay stated, leaning his head on y/n’s as she lay it on his shoulder.

[valhallavalgrace]

What’s new in the AU?

Leo: Well, I’m fucking dead, so-

THIS IS YOUR LAST CHANCE TO AVOID SPOILERS!

Leo attempted using the Physician’s Cure, but there were complications as Festus tried to revive him, and he was instead claimed by the Valkyrie. All other events through Blood of Olympus remain unchanged.

Months have passed since his real-world death, leaving his friends to mourn both his and Magnus’ deaths in the time that it took for him to arrive at HV. Magnus Chase and Annabeth Chase have been in contact (as the events of Sword of Summer are also unchanged), so he is aware of the Greek pantheon; however, he had not yet, at that time, met Leo or otherwise connected the dots prior to the start of this blog.

Leo arrives in Valhalla right before Alex Fierro, meaning that the Hammer of Thor is running in parallel to his initial adjustment to the Hotel. He will not be participating in all events of HoT, but many may be referenced, altered, or used as inspiration throughout the blog. HoT and SotD will both happen to an extent (on and off screen).

Magnus Chase is set to meet with Annabeth and Percy again as Ship of the Dead is inevitable. There will be implications before and after this happens.

Namely, in canon, they are crying over Jason's death. Meaning, ToA is running in parallel.

This is where it takes a little bit of imagination and a little bit of playing along, later on! At the same time as the blog & Hammer of Thor, Trials of Apollo (kind of) happens. Most of The Hidden Oracle running parallel to SoS is canonically unchanged, but The Dark Prophecy requires Lester, Calypso, and Festus to complete their quests without Leo himself. Narratively, I don’t really mind the thought of Calypso saving herself when Festus arrives alone, attempting to nurse Leo’s old body, but Festus and Leo alike grieve for their friendship.

Leo is building a new Festus body, but it won’t become his Festus until later in the story…

Similarly, The Burning Maze remains mostly unchanged, with Jason’s death following the events of canon (that is to say, 6 months after BoO/Leo’s death). He is, indeed, broken up with Piper at this point, but without Leo, she is left to mourn with Festus. Her role in this story will come later down the line…

(Yes, they broke up because they were incompatible types of queer; Jason is still processing HoH by his arrival)

While Jason is immediately claimed by the Valkyrie to bring to Valhalla upon his death, it is still TBD when his specific arrival happens in line with SotD, interactions between the Chase cousins, and the canon of V²AU.

As of now...

Leo has only just arrived in Valhalla! This page will update as the AU develops or as major things change. You can also check out #lore and the pinned post/descriptions for pertinent updates

[inukag-archive]

Hi, I’m looking for fics where Kagome and/or Inuyasha deal with depression/anxiety. I like longer stories but one-shots are totally fine too. I would prefer stories from before 2019 so there’s no Yashahime influence. Also please no sessrin in the recs. Thank you so much!

Hi anon, thank you for the ask! Most of the fics we could find that fit your criteria are one shots, but there are a few longer stories sprinkled throughout. In order to provide more reading material, we split the list into stories written in 2019 or earlier and stories that were written after 2019 but contain no references to Yashahime (characters, plot, or otherwise). There shouldn't be any SessRin references in any of the fics either.

This is a difficult subject to search for without having read a story in its entirety, so we strongly encourage anyone who knows of any others to leave more recs in the reblogs/replies!

[2019 or Earlier]

He Just Wouldn't Stop by @artistefish (G)

Just because she's back doesn't mean there aren't scars. Some wounds take more than time to heal, and some never heal at all. A post-canon look at an unexpected repercussion of Kagome's three year absence.

--

Guilty Hero by Eggry (T)

The city is recovering after a crippling war against Naraku. But while time moves on, Inu-Yasha doesn't. Plagued with guilt over a terrible deed, alcohol is his only escape from the nightmare of reality. At their wit's end with him, Sango and Miroku are on the verge of giving up until Kagome Higurashi arrives to take him under her wing.

--

Sleep, My Dear by Stars_Sky_See (T)

Kagome was quickly adjusting to her new life with the help of her now husband. Life had all around been easier since her return and everyone was grateful. However, life wasn’t so merciful, with every two steps forward there was always one step back.

--

The Ghosts of Suicide Forest by @splendentgoddess (T)

Aokigahara, known by some as Suicide Forest. It is a place of mystery, beauty and death. Roughly 100 people go there annually to commit suicide, but why? The better question, though, is can Kagome find and rescue Yuka before it is too late?

--

Broken Glass by SleepWalkingChickens (M)

Growing up is hard, especially when things are changing. Kagome is plunged into a new world, complete with new problems. The past is hard to let go of and baggage builds up. Unravel it and you’re met with truth. Can love win over Inuyasha's sins?

--

It Goes Like This by @witchygirl99 (G)

It goes like this.

“Hey! I haven’t seen you in a while!” Kagome exclaims, smiling at him. Her eyes are dark brown and beautiful, captivating.

Five different answers pop into his head, all of them friendly and inviting for conversation. It’s not what comes out.

Inuyasha isn't the main character of anyone's story. With Kagome, that feeling starts to change.

--

[Post 2019 w/ No Yashahime References]

Pictures of Happiness by @memilylove (M)

The loss of his high school sweetheart changed more than Inuyasha realized. With the encouragement of friends, he finally gives himself another shot at getting help. The path is not easy, but he soon finds that perhaps there is a point to all this. Is it really possible to be happy again and to find that you love another?

--

Other Reasons to Stay Awake by @ajoy3fanfics (NR)

Kagome suffers from PTSD after she returns to her side of the well

--

Shattered by My-Crazy-Awesome-Sox (T)

Oneshot: Leading a double life has got to be stressful. What happens when it all starts falling apart for Kagome? Everything has been pent up for too long, and now it's all crashing down around her. For anyone who's ever had a breakdown...

--

A Horse With No Name by @roseheartwhitefox (T)

The story of what happened to Inuyasha after Kagome disappeared when the well closed for 3 years, heavily referencing the episode "The Old Sugarman Place" from "BoJack Horseman". I feel as if after everything that happened and Kagome disappeared, Inuyasha would need time to grieve the loss. This is that story. Deals with themes of depression, loneliness, and loss. 

--

Stay by @akitokihojo (G)

He nodded again, pulling away to gently press his forehead to hers for a moment. "I get it." Inuyasha breathed before leaning back to look her in the eyes. "But, one of these days you'll understand that no matter what happens, I won't take a damn thing back. You'll see that I don't want it back. I feel like my heart's safer with you, anyway."

--

Kagome's Unwitting Depression by @cstormsinukagblog (M)

Kagome sees something that she isn't meant to see, and it kind of breaks her. Can she and Inuyasha repair the damage before she gives up hope?

--

Breaking the Habit: Rewrite by @kstewdeux (M)

After being separated for six years, Inuyasha and Kagome are reunited on her side of the well. TW: SI, Mental Illness.

--

The Voice Inside My Head by @fawn-eyed-girl (E)

When Kagome returns to the Feudal era a week after a particular nasty fight with Inuyasha, he realizes something’s not right. Is it too late for Inuyasha and Kagome—have the years of fighting broken them apart for good? Or will they be able to find a way forward, together?

--

Feel free to add your own recs in the comments or reblogs! Check our Masterlist of previous lists to see which topics we've covered.  After reviewing our submission guidelines, send us an ask (here).

[teamdilf]

2024 Fic Wrapped

Tagged by @gefionne - thank you!

words posted: 786,461 - but that includes fics from previous years that I updated this year so it's probably closer to 500,000?

additional words written: I don't usually keep track so I'm not sure!

fandoms: Dragon Age, Baldur's Gate 3, and Mass Effect

highest kudos: Rook, No. (Dragon Age)

highest hit oneshot: A Melody in a Forest (Dragon Age)

new things i tried: I wrote a BG3/Dragon Age crossover, Glowing Glass, and it was my first longfic crossover!

fic I spent the most time on: Definitely Glowing Glass, both in terms of length and time spent trying to make two different sets of lore work together.

fic I spent the least amount of time on: Full Moon, which is a Solvellan drabble I wrote this summer.

favorite thing i wrote: Rook, No., because it's a very funny fic that was never meant to grow a plot, but ultimately did. It helped cope with the months-long wait for Veilguard and I found going into the game with a character who was well-developed personality-wise enhanced my enjoyment of the game. Parts of Mel's backstory changed by necessity, but the essence of who she is and how she communicates did not.

favorite things i read:

Perfect Slaughter by Imagineitdear - an Astarion/Tav fic set in a world where Tav becomes one of Cazador's spawn. A beautiful, often very dark fic that I utterly adored.

These Hands, If Not Gods by @Gefionne - A Solavellan time travel fic where Lavellan summons Fen'Harel to the future using an ancient shrine. I love the insight into Solas' life in Arlathan pre-rebellion - it's incredible world-building!

The Children Are Our Future by iggluminati - Solas and Rook time travel back to the Inquisition-era, forcing Solas to contend with a 12-year-old Rook. Absolutely, hysterically funny work.

writing goals for 2025: I've got a project outlined below that'll be the most ambitious fic I've written in years - both in terms of length, and lore complexity that I'd like to make progress on in 2025.

Also, and this may sound strange, but another goal is to participate in fewer fandom events. I burned myself out last year on them, and have decided that the hurt that comes when my work isn't read or acknowledged by its recipient isn't something I want to deal with for now. So, I'm taking a break for at least part of 2025.

new works: I've started working on a Solavellan time travel fic of my own (Veilguard spoilers below).

The basic premise is that the Executors have won ~20 years post-Veilguard and Solas, anticipating his own death, re-creates the amulet Dorian used to time travel, and has Iris promise to travel back to the moment of the breach when he dies and the veil begins to fall. Iris is successful, but is now going through the events of Inquisition, with the knowledge of the last 30 years, while in the midst of grieving the death of her husband of 20 years. She's a mess and Inquisition-era Solas discovers that Iris Lavellan is just as shitty at lying as he is.

Tagging @omniblades-and-stars, @ariannaserissa, @kalmiaphlox

[ultraericthered]

Slept on the final season of TDP 2 (Mystery of Aaravos) after having watched it yesterday. The season's overall quality was thankfully closer to the previous one than Books 4 and 5, even though there were some serious, serious issues, particularly in the home stretch.

I watch the show mainly to be entertained and even engaged by what it offers, but what really struck me with this season is how I really do love the ideas behind what it's giving me even when I do not so much like the actual writing and execution at all. The whole outcome with Everkind was the perfect example: the idea of the old world having crumbled and burned utterly so that then rather than rebuild, you build something new and greater in its place? In the mid-2020s, that REALLY speaks to me in a way it might not have in the 2010s. It's a great direction for the narrative to take and, for now, close out on. Shame the journey to reaching that point didn't really do it justice.

Some other stray thoughts:

- Aside from ending up surprisingly less of a physical, magically powerful threat than he was hyped up to be for all this time, Aaravos could do no wrong for me from start to finish. He's always been the best creation to come out of this series and that's only been proven more true with each season of his saga. He is not only a fantastic and effective main antagonist, he's such a fascinating and layered character on top of that. In a way, he didn't even totally lose in the end - all of the archdragons save for Zym are now gone and the world is left in shambles and changed forever as a result, which could make his later work easier. Really hope we can see him again, even if in seven years.

- I love Claudia's character, but her story has just been one massive letdown after another ever since TDP Book 3. With that said, I think I slightly prefer where this saga left her off compared to the previous one. The infuriating butchery of Terry and breaking him up with her notwithstanding, her self-acceptance of who she is, what she wants to be and what she decides she needs to do with her life even if it doesn't hinge upon her bio family has at least left her with more sanity and clairity than the Azula copycat she'd been turning into. Plus, she's finally rid of her shitty father and we know for a fact that Aaravos loves her, which is why she's now his faithful disciple. Whatever she's getting up to out there, I am 100% rooting for her.

- In general, I think TDP 1 had a stronger conclusion despite the story having to get rushed in order to reach it, as it wasn't left on a note where so many threads were still loose and unresolved. But on the flip side, the hooks for a continuation being written in as an organic part of this saga is kind of preferrable to seeming to end it very conclusively only to throw at us a last minute stinger that turns out to be how the next saga opens up anyway. So it's like one lesson was learned here: let's not see a cut to years later until we get there.

- I am very confused by how the archdragons' deaths were handled. Two of them were straight up murdered in very agonizing ways, while the other three (one who was kind of already dead) sacrificed their lives. And as we skip the immediate aftermath of the latter, we are given ZERO time for grieving. Zym had to lose both of his parents all over again and it is followed up with NOTHING out of Zym except a humorous scene where he starts speaking words for the first time in Dante Basco's voice. This combined with the earlier death of an elf (Karim), which is comically brief and moved on from quickly after a small display of grief from his sister, suggests that non-human characters dying just don't get to hold the weight that even the death of fucking Viren was allowed. Suddenly, humans are not considered inferior by the narrative and it's Xadian lives that don't matter! Huh? Wasn't it the other way around before? So much mixed messaging!

- Lastly, I don't know how to feel about the sheer AUDACITY to wait until this seventh, potentially final Book to drop the confirmation that King Harrow's soul got switched with his bird's, at a point where said bird has flown the coop. It's like Aaron Ehasz was trying to leave us with a "Where. is. my mother?" moment, forgetting that doing so does not give any guarantee that there will ever be a follow-up.

[thediktatortot]

Harringrove, Angst, medical issues.

---

At first it was the memory issues.

It was little things, keys, wallet, coats, the things every person lost and found on any good day...but it was other things too; cups of water, medication, photos, missed phone calls, forgotten dates...names.

No one wanted to really pay attention to those things though, the little things, chocking it up to simple forgetfulness and absentmindedness for the sake of nothing being wrong. No one wanted to break the proverbial wall of 'Nothing's Wrong'.

There were other signs of course, like the random mood swings, the mixing of words, panicked phone calls in the middle of the night because no one knew where he was or they would wake up to a confused phone call of their own.

He snapped more often, got angry at his friends and his lover, repeated the same stories multiple times as though he had forgotten he'd not been the only one there.

They thought it might be his PTSD re-surging, a wave of old memories causing him grief in his midlife crises- they should have noticed it sooner, should have done something, said something, pushed him to see a professional...but no one wanted to talk about it.

No one wanted to notice the growing elephant in the room and break the fragile world that everything was okay.

Everything was...not okay.

Everything was dismal and bleak.

Early Dementia is what the doctors said, most likely brought on by the multiple recorded concussions in Steve's medical history and as both Billy and the other's knew...ones that weren't listed.

The guilt was...immeasurable. Steve himself was the only one who even dared be positive over the diagnosis, holding Billy tight in his arms to sooth both Billy and himself.

"It's okay...It's not your fault...Don't ever blame yourself." Steve kissed Billy on the crown of his head where they sat together, the warmth of their shared bedroom of the last thirty years both a comfort and a reminder of their aging bodies- aging minds.

Billy would blame himself though, nothing would ever be able to pry that nail out of his heart, that one rusted nail of grief and guilt over maybe being the deciding factor, the tipping point. The Reason.

The doctors said there were ways to slow the onset of the disease, ways to build up healthy memory functions and regain small bits of self reliance and autonomy, but it wasn't a cure.

There wasn't a cure and Billy wanted to tare down entire cities with his rage over that fact. How could other dimensions with monsters and little girls with mind powers be real...but not a simple cure for a fucking disease?

It's not fair.

It's not right.

It's not supposed to happen to them, they saved the world more times than should have been necessary and-...and now they have to suffer too?

Was it not enough to bleed and to cry and too loose and to wake panicked in the night over wind and rain at their windows or the darkness of the night?

It wasn't fair.

And Steve- Steve was so...so good, so calm, so caring, so attentive to those around him already processing the grief of their loved one who was still there...but fading. Always fading.

"You know...I'm glad it's me." Steve would say, tears in his eyes as he smiled. "I'm- so glad I don't have to watch you or any of the kids...disappear."

It was selfish of Steve to say, in Billy's opinion, because he had to watch it. Billy had to watch Steve disappear and the kids had to watch him disappear and it hurt so goddamned bad.

But Billy knew he couldn't grieve his lover while he still lived, it wasn't right, it wasn't fair to Steve and it wasn't fair to the kids.

It wasn't fair but it was happening and the only thing they could do was to just keep living their lives. Keep experiencing and making new memories, take photos and write letters, buy shirts with event names, sign cards with love and kisses, visit more and just...exist more.

Billy and Steve's house had always been the hangout spot, but after Steve's diagnosis, it became a second home for anyone and everyone whenever they wanted. Photos cluttered the walls, memories and dates written down and notes pinned to pinboards so Steve could look back on things in case he forgot them.

It became their thing, the Wall of Memories, they called it, and it was all for Steve.

And after Steve could no longer leave his home, when Billy became his primary care person who dealt with Steve's worst days and made sure he was present for Steve's best, the Wall of Memories became Steve's home, his world.

The living room became the bedroom, the bedroom became the third guest room and when all of that was gone, when the living room bedroom was no longer needed and the smell of hospital soap and white linens took over, the Wall of Memories became everyone's.

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

Holy Ground | Hallowed Bodies Update #1

LONAN CLARK ERA LONAN CLARK ERA!! Welcome to instalment 1 of the Hallowed Bodies updates! :) HB is a literary fiction novella I finished in August (WIP intro) and a companion to BODY BACK.

Let's talk about magical beginnings, how life impacts writing, grieving potentials, & Lonan's internality!

Update under the cut!

Logline: When his girlfriend leaves to travel, Lonan carries out his typical daily routine which includes visiting a church and walking a strange route home.

Hallowed Bodies taglist (pls ask to be +/-):

@subtlefires @dallonwrites @saintedseraph @cream-and-tea @rownanisntwriting @euphoniouspandemonium @iwannawritepls @thefruitonyourfly @olive-riggzey @silassghost @thelivingdeceased

Beginnings & more beginnings

When I got the original idea for Hallowed Bodies, it was March and I was on the other side of the country at the intersection in front of my old apartment building. It was raining on my walk home from a journalism class and I was listening to My Dying Spirit by Greyson Chance when I had the thought... "okay if Harrison is alone in Las Vegas in BODY BACK, that must mean LONAN is also alone for a while in Las Vegas--so what's he doing?"

For about two days, I was really consumed with the idea of what this book *could* be--eerie church imagery, a contemplation of faith, an exploration of Lonan's relationship with his dead mother. Then time passed, I moved, life got weird, I finished BODY BACK, and by the time I got back to HB, something in me had changed.

When life changes writing & grieving potentials

I've given that preamble because HB didn't turn into the thing I thought it would turn into on that initial walk back home. I think there's sometimes a tendency in writing advice spaces to be so blasé about how life circumstances impact writing. I don't think there was any possible way June 2023 me could've written the Hallowed Bodies I'd dreamt up back in March 2023. I changed SO much despite staying fundamentally the same and the idea also had to change because *I'm* the one writing it.

With that said, sometimes I wonder what would've happened if I stayed exactly where I was in the spring (which is an extremely Lonan and Harrison-core thing to consider LOL). In a way, a big part of writing this book was grieving what it could've been. I still have a distinct vibe of the early vision which is very similar but adjacent nonetheless to what I actually wrote. I think that's what made writing this project so hard because I didn't understand what I wanted from it--March me was conflicting with June me and in the end, what we got was a mixture of both!

A positive start... for now!!!

I've always heard of writers talk about "shiny new idea syndrome" but I never really understood it. However, drafting Holy Ground completely clarified what shiny new idea syndrome even is which left me feeling perhaps overly confident (honestly which I'm grateful for because I didn't feel that way again until the last chapter LOLLL).

I drafted the first paragraph of this book back in April, and the rest of it only took a day or two in June. It's very short (for me) at 1500 words and illuminated two structural elements for HB: short chapters and "vignette"-like scenes.

Inspiration & vibes:

Okay so SORRY if you already know this but Greyson Chance got me unwise & his music video for My Dying Spirit is MY FAVOURITE THING IN THE WHOLE WORLD. I always thought of MDS as a really solid Lonan song, but the music video's Catholic imagery had me spiraling MORE. I basically wanted to recreate the vibes of that video in the form of a book.

We were really going for THIS as the vibe (from the video)!

Hallowed Bodies as Antithesis

One of the first things I knew about HB was that I wanted it to be a mirror of BODY BACK. I wanted to see how Lonan got to be a better person BEFORE FH in contrast to how Harrison becomes a worse person before FH. Thinking of Hallowed Bodies as the antithesis of BB is really fascinating to me! If BB is loud, HB is quiet. If BB is maximalist, HB is minimalist (as much as I could help it haha).

Internal narratives as a trap

Something I LOVE about this project in general is that it's SO internal. I don't think I've ever been so deeply rooted in Lonan's voice before, but Hallowed Bodies as a project warrants intimacy. Lonan's alone for a week in Las Vegas basically doing nothing, which is a precursor to Feeding Habits (the novel that comes after this) where he's really "settled" into being a completely subordinate person in his own life.

I wanted to use internality as a means to make the narrative feel confined, like Lonan does. Because of that, I focused on adding a LOT of descriptions that directly reflect Lonan's desires and internal conflicts (the excerpt with the couple reflects this the most). What he notices is EXTREMELY important. What do his observations reveal about him?

Listlessness and Lonan

Something that became clear to me early in the drafting process is that Lonan is soooo listless. Like direction? Drive? Passion? He has NOTHINGGGG. He's really living a settled, "domestic" life, and he clearly can't handle it. This is setup for Feeding Habits so it's not as intense as it is there, but this man is BORED and ready to romanticize ANYTHING for some serotonin. This is critical setup for later when we meet "the man" (whose name for efficiency's sake is Dallas bc he looks like Matt Dillon in The Outsiders <3 that was the reason <3).

HB is a really transitional project for Lonan. He comes off Moth Work a better person to others but not quite a better person to himself. We get to see him crave gentleness a LOT in HB, a feeling that seems so foreign to him, which I think also contributes to his feeling of displacement. In a way, it was also transitional for me--it's the first thing I've written in full as a graduate!

The plot

CW: religious trauma (Catholicism)

Scene A:

In a church, Lonan recalls a memory of him and his father praying.

Scene B:

Lonan starts his walk home, aware the route is nonsensical.

Scene C:

Lonan recalls the last time he saw Eliza before she left for her week-long trip.

Scene D:

Lonan considers Las Vegas' warm autumn.

Scene E:

In memory, Eliza finds Lonan's father's rosary in her apartment.

Excerpts:

The first "scene" (aka vignette). This is one of my favourite openings EVER!!! It's just Hallowed Bodies core!

Lonan doesn’t pray anymore. At least not the way he used to. As a child, he and his father prayed everywhere: begging for forgiveness at Crater Lake, repenting in line for an oil change, supplicating in a windstorm. On Sundays, they’d wake before dawn and nestle in front of the bathroom mirror, recite the first chapter of Genesis, Paul’s letters to Timothy, Psalm 22. Lonan preferred the Apostle’s Creed. He’d watch his young mouth repeat I believe in Jesus Christ, his only Son, our Lord, I believe in Jesus Christ, his only Son, our Lord, I believe in Jesus Christ, his only Son, our Lord, and he did believe. After hours of this, sunlight misting the open window, mass a half hour away, their lips would be so numb they’d have to pinch them until they were bloody mouthed and ready, at last, for God. The truth is, Lonan believes in nothing now. He’s as fatherless as he is motherless as he is godless. This should be a good thing. But bowed against a pew, the church around him hollow like Jesus’ empty tomb, his eyes trained on the dangling crucifix ahead of him, he’s certain this is wrong. He needs a mentor, a shepherd, an idol. He needs someone to follow.

This is the second scene/vignette. Something I love here is that we can tell Lonan's a hopeless romantic lol. Like hey you're looking awfully fondly at that couple, why?? You want that?? You want love?? Also! If you read the recent Changing States excerpt, you'll notice I also mention a café in the arts district which is an easter egg to say Lonan and Jeremiah love the same café (they need to be friends):

He takes the long way home. The long way home entails cutting past a wedding chapel near Lewis until he nears a second wedding chapel by a dollar store. He then turns around and retraces his steps back to the church, then walks all the way to a café bakery in the arts district where he stands and watches patrons from across the street. A man always meets a woman. They swipe off milk foam mustaches, lean against each other to fill out a crossword. The sun sometimes hits their faces and pales their eyes till they’re transparent like vapour. They never walk out together. He leaves the moment the first one goes, then continues back to the church where he finally walks ten minutes to Eliza’s place. The walk takes over an hour. It’s inefficient. Nonsensical. He makes this route every day.

This is just such a typical Lonan and Eliza interaction:

She’d left groceries in the fridge—no need to go shopping—and if he wanted, she’d also left a fifty-dollar bill on the counter for takeout. As he stared at the ceiling, she kissed him and complained about her mother’s plans to go horseback riding that coming weekend. “I know what a horse looks like,” she said, then explained they’d also be touring Stowe with a gaudy tourism agency. “She’s exhausting me already.” She sighed, having gone completely still. Lonan didn’t notice until she took his face with her hand, squishing his jaw, and asked “Are you okay?” An hour later, she was gone with a pre-packed suitcase, and he was still lying in bed wondering if she’d been there at all, if he’d been there at all, if in actuality they were both dead, or at the very least, both ghosts.

Do you fear bodies of water to the point where you practice holding your breath in full sinks so if you're ever close to drowning at least you're prepared:

It’s September in Las Vegas. The asters that grow outside Eliza’s apartment building have started to bloom, shockingly purple. The severe summer heat has barely faded, weather Lonan isn’t used to. Sometimes he crouches right in front of Eliza’s oscillating fan so it blows right in his face. At other times he ruffles up the freezer until he finds something suitable to drape on his forehead—a bag of peas, a Ziploc of homemade perogies, a hard plastic ice pack Eliza almost always forgets to return after work. Though sometimes, he cranks the bathroom sink all the way to cold and fills it up, sticks his face in there like it’s nothing, waits there for what feels like a few hours.

Lonan examining how fucking weird dating Eliza is lol:

Eliza doesn’t know about his visits to the church. He started his daily trips about two weeks back, ensuring he got home before she did from a shift. As they ate canned beef stew on the couch, as she spoke to him about an irritating coworker, as she rested her hand on his elbow then looked at her bedroom door, he kept this secret from her. He’s not sure why. He knows he doesn’t have to. Eliza already knows his father was devout to something—on the last day of August, she rummaged through a filing cabinet in her bedroom and pulled out a bronze rosary. Lonan didn’t need to look at it to know who it belonged to. He’d learned to identify it by scent alone. “That’s your dad’s,” she said, something sober in her voice. She was essentially providing him a confession—a crime she unknowingly participated in. The rosary dangled like fuzzy dice from a rear-view mirror. When he didn’t move from where he leaned in the doorway, she stood and pocketed it. “I didn’t know. He gave it to me when…” Her voice trailed off when she realized he still hadn’t reacted. What had she expected from him? He’s not wholly illogical—he’d accepted that his father had likely given her things and that she’d kept them. They’d dated. That was normal.

^^ (IS IT NORMAL THO I COULD WRITE A TAG ESSAY ON THIS)

Eliza backtracks (CW: implied abuse, blood mention):

Eliza promised she’d go through all her things—make sure she didn’t have anything else “from Jason.” Hearing his father’s name said aloud like that was a normal thing felt even stranger than having his rosary. Lonan took a step back that was really more a stagger; he narrowly caught himself on the bedroom doorframe. His cheeks were hot—with embarrassment, but also tears, and the tears worsened the embarrassment which worsened the tears. He couldn’t explain to her that when he was too young to memorize a phone number, that rosary had been wrapped around his hand till his fingers turned blue. Or that one silty night, he’d clutched the cross so tight under his pillow that his palms bled. “Sorry,” he said, pawing at his eyes.

The aftermath of that scene:

In the end, he sat on the balcony, silently crying as he stared out over the city. He tried to think of ways to reverse time—perhaps if he pretended nothing happened, Eliza would too. They’d start the afternoon all over again, her kicking off her shoes at the front door, setting her purse down on the small dining table. “You want to grab dinner?” she would’ve shouted through the apartment, already fumbling for the coupons she’d tacked to the refrigerator, knowing he was listening to her. Instead, he stared at his trembling fist.

And the last paragraph of this chapter! (Lonan really said "I don't have thoughts stop bothering me")

He needs to eat something. There’s raw celery in the vegetable crisper. A new pack of whole wheat tortillas atop the toaster. It’s when he’s pulling them out to eat, the low static hum of a radio station left on gritting midair, that he realizes perhaps that’s exactly it—he can’t tell Eliza about the church. Not because she won’t care, but precisely because she will. She’d follow him every time he goes, ask what he was thinking of every time he bowed his head to pray. He doesn’t know what he thinks. Most of the time he isn’t thinking at all. But what he knows for certain is the church and his meandering walk, that couple in the café, the fact that one always leaves, are not just routine for him. This is his holy ground. Luminous, alive. Somewhere to flee, even when he’s not sure what he’s running from.

And that's it! I'm really excited to introduce y'all more officially to Hallowed Bodies! :) And because I vowed to make these updates feel more cozy, here's this Lonancore gif LOL:

[lunaritychuwolf]

The Woes of the Fairground Keeper

The last he had seen of her, they were both happy. She was on her way to do what she needed to and he was building away, working on the fair ground.

And as life always does, something unexpected happens. On a bright, sunny and cloudless day, everyone hears a loud rumble of thunder echo, a sound akin to booming TNT. Silence all around.

Confusion follows until understanding dawns. The love of his life, gone without a trace. Lost to a black void of space.

All he can do is mourn, and live on in her memory, for what more can he do when there's no body left to bury.

But his time for mourning is cut short, in place of remembrance now fills celebration. A fellow friend, curse now broken, dances and prances, flaunting his livelihood.

He feels rage, for a brief moment in time he wants to do something, his vision is clouded by red, but with his love gone, his heart goes numb and slowly his world fades to grey.

He goes to lament her loss again, but new chaos takes centre stage. Old allies, with relationships turned sour, hold destruction in their hands. Unleashing upon their little world the rages of hell and Shadows unmatched.

Death haunts him, trailing not far behind but never pulling him in. Instead, it took his love without leaving a trace, his songbird who earlier had his curse displaced, and his gentle friend,always a smile on his face.

Just like that, more lives are lost, just like that, their memories are erased. How much more does the world think his heart can break, how much more weight can his shoulders,already burdened, take...

So to save himself and his fragile heart, he retreats back to his fairground on the mound. Away from the dangers of this world, where finally, he can grieve all his losses of those he loved.

A/N: a filler as I try to figure out how to progress my Desert Duo fic.

I wrote this at 3am

Jizzie has my heart

If I cannot art while on holiday I must words

Thank you for reading😊😊