#i've beared it for so long and thought i was through with loss and grief and having my heart mishandled

[lovelornlamb]

this time around i don't have anyone to just hug and collapse against. it's eating me alive. last time i got through it with him and he's further away than ever. it's getting really hard to keep going

[broomsick]

I want to ask a question. Would Freyja be considered a Goddess of Grief? Considering her tears brought amber over Odr’s disappearance. I know that is more so the realm of Hel, (alas Freyja is a death Goddess in her own right too). I just haven't noticed that aspect delved into. And I've been thinking about it a lot.

In my grief over a recent passing of my father, I immediately felt her presence and from being so tired lately from it. I used my grief and cried as a devotional to her. Healing isn't linear and I go through a lot of bad days but her immediate strength came through after.

Of course we all experience the Gods differently, I just wanted to ask your thoughts! 🐈‍⬛🪻

I love this observation, and I absolutely agree. I'm sorry for your loss, and I'm so glad Freyja has been able to guide you in your journey through grief. It's an experience that's difficult beyond words to navigate.

I've actually associated Freyja with similar concepts for quite some time. If my experience may be brought to bear, she tends to manifest in times of emotional distress, such as when you’re depressed or anxious. I suppose that’s why devotees and people who have worshipped her for a long time sometimes refer to her as a “big sister”, or any other such protective figure. My experience is the same: she’s loving and kind, reaching out to those who are experiencing intense emotions and are having trouble processing them. She will help you to feet, at your own rhythm, and walk alongside you.

Plus, you've made a very good point, and one I've always tought was too often overlooked. She is heavily associated with passing and the afterlife. In a sense, she can be regarded as a figure that welcomes the dead with open arms. While I know it's not a topic that's easy to address, the passing of a loved one can be more easily accepted with the help of spirituality. While I know different people deal with grief in different ways, that's the case for me. And worshipping a Goddess of death to help with grief is not unheard of. You're actually not the first person to ask me such a question! I think turning to figures who have a say in what goes on in the aferlife is a natural instinct for a lot of us.

Now, to make a long story short, I think Freyja could very well be associated with grief. To me, she's a tribute to the fact that emotions, both good and bad, are beautiful. She's proof that even the Gods are not immune to them. You have my sincere condolences, and I pray that no matter how you choose to navigate your grief, you have a gentle journey to healing.

[the-heros-sidekick]

❝ went looking for a creation myth, ended up with a pair of cracked lips. ❞

He feels it first at the back of his neck. A buzzing, like the crackling of electricity underneath his skin, reverberating against the hollow of his skull. Something is knocking, making its presence known: A particular kind of evil that had snuck into Stiles’ mind once already, stealing away control over his body. Condemning him to sit back, trapped in his own mind, rendering him powerless. Doomed to watch in horror as his  blood-stained hands wielded sharpened blades against those he loved. They’d gotten him out, though nearly at the cost of his own life—a sacrifice Stiles had been more than willing to make, so long as no one else would get hurt because of him. And yet something must have stayed behind, lodged into the membrane of his skull like a shard of glass. For the longest time he’d managed to keep the horrors contained to only haunt him in the dead of night, leaving him sleep deprived and wrung out, every nerve ending scraped thin. But now, even the light of day no longer offers refuge for Stiles to feel safe. Long gone is the once obnoxiously loud, carefree kid—left in its stead is a man carrying himself with caution, treading quietly across the space between other people’s reality and what lies beyond. He knows there are demons out there listening, waiting for an opportunity to exploit any sign of weakness—a door left slightly ajar, perhaps, much like the door to Stiles’ mind they’d never managed to close. The feeling of impending doom crescendos and Stiles, feeling sick to his stomach with fear, clings desperately to the words he repeats to himself like a mantra. "Nothing gets in unless you let it.” But the words turn to ash in his mouth, memories of past experiences proving him a liar. 

an exploration of Teen Wolf's 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐊𝐈—𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐄 who, after leaving Beacon Hills behind, settled down in New York where he's now considered the FBIs golden boy ― crafted for @fakevz. following canon events of the show with additional headcanons. low activity & very crossover friendly. minors dni. this blog operates in english only. est. 2014 ♗ ©

𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐘 𝐈𝐍: loss of innocence ⊹ comedic sidekick ⊹ overcoming demonic possession ⊹ a morally gray world ⊹ undying loyalty ⊹ survivor's guilt ⊹ agent of chaos ⊹ deflecting with humor

✧  𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 ✧ 𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓 ✧ 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐒

I think I've loved you since I met you. I just mistook it for curiosity.

Ever since I first laid eyes on you, I felt this unquenchable need to know you. I blamed it on ulterior motives, justified it because I needed something from you, because you held the answers I was looking for, because no one else was able to help but you. Looking back on it now though, I'm starting to think that maybe some part of me knew right from the start, that first night I stumbled upon you in the woods, what took me years to see: Maybe my heart recognized that it was going to love you right away, and I spent the years to come catching up with what it knew right from the start. That it was always going to be you. How could it ever have been anyone else? Through mayhem and bloodshed, through fear and loss, through grief and sleepless nights, you were the one constant that remained. When I lost sight of everything—first myself, then reality, then hope—you were the one guiding my way like a beacon, or a north star. If I've ever known peace, it's in all the moments that your hand has touched mine and that your arms have held me tirelessly, putting your body like a shield between me and every inkling of danger. Of all the late-night wonderings of trying to make sense of the last decade (and failing), what remains is this singular thought: At least it was you. At least it was me. At least it was us, together. I'd bear it all a million times over if it meant I got to hold your hand at the end of it all. You are the moment of quiet at the end of a long day, you are breathless laughter, you're the patch of sunlight filtering in through the window that I stand in to warm myself. You are everything good in this world and living proof that there is hope despite it all, and I love you beyond measure.

[notmorbid]

the hole.

dialogue prompts from the hole by hye-young pyun.

the real fight starts now.

you are clearly not okay.

i didn't know what to ask.

don't feel embarrassed.

recovery takes a long time.

if there's one thing i hate, it's tales of miraculous recoveries.

how does it feel to be home again?

i'm in no shape to comfort anyone.

my father has a lot, but i'm all my mother has.

i don't mean to poke at old wounds.

i want all the gory details.

i was trying to figure out how to apologize.

you'd abandon your family to ensure your own success.

assholes like you always succeed.

you can't represent the world through maps alone.

at least maps improve with failure.

your forties are well-suited to all manner of sin.

i stopped growing a long time ago.

you know better than anyone what a hack i am.

climbing plants give me the creeps.

you'll never guess who's come to visit.

you always imagine the worst possible circumstances for yourself.

not even you could have guessed.

he's come to pray for you.

i'm sorry i drank it all.

i thought i would feel free, but i don't.

who is this?

i feel removed from the entire world.

only someone like jesus christ himself could do your job.

i'll stay with you, for the time being.

your pledges and promises are useless.

you can't choose cynicism over grief.

you're making me extremely uncomfortable.

were you cussing?

you look good.

do you like being back home?

you look just as tired as me.

there are sides of you that only family can see.

it's like being born all over again.

i wanted you to be surprised.

i've become a laughingstock.

not everyone could do what you did.

misery does love company.

once you experience loss, you find it has a good side.

a dead husband is so much better than a cheating husband.

raised with so much love and care, only to die for no reason.

you act like i'm not even here.

leaning on someone leads to hugging.

when you get old, you don't hold back. you stop watching what you say.

my world was the only one that collapsed.

i'm always thinking about you.

i didn't know you worried about me.

there are things i can only bear because of you.

you can't stay in the house forever.

[seigephoenix]

The Not Finale 1

Since The Final Shape has been released for a while now, I can finally post Siobhan's journey through it. I do have a story coming that's going to show her past with Crow/Uldren but it's a slow process. I wanted to go through this story as the Final Shape brought up a lot of emotional shit for Siobhan. It'll be like 4 parts (maybe)

Art is by: @/commander-sarahs-art

Content Warning: grief, heavy loss mentioned, trauma is explored and worked through, game typical violence, surgical stuff is mentioned in somewhat detail

Siobhan looked down at her ship’s console as she flew towards the Traveler, her fingers tapping the keys needed to land the ship in a dance committed to memory.  She’d answered Nevia's call for help when the Witness threatened the Traveler, together to the end.  They’d faced down countless enemies of the Traveler together.  Nothing could break their bond.  Siobhan sighed and leaned forward, resting her forearms on the steering column of her ship.  She’d always come if Nevia called, even if it did require her to face him again.  She hated thinking of that last confrontation but it haunted her nightmares.  The ice and venom in those golden eyes would remain in her memory for a long time, but she deserved every bit of that betrayal and ire.  She closed her eyes as they approached the coordinates.  Unwittingly the memory of that argument rose up in her mind, her lips thinning as their voices played in her head.

You knew who I was this entire time!?  Did it make you laugh to see what had been done to me?  The abuse hurled at me?  Sneering at how naive I was to trust you.  You, the one who killed me.

I didn't do it on purpose Crow!  Being a Guardian means you get a clean slate with your life!  None of your past deeds are weighed against you!  Why do you think Commander Zavala extended his hand?  He’d never have done that if he didn’t understand that our past sins have no bearing on us as Guardians!!  And I never laughed at you!  Not once!  I was glad you got that second chance!  You deserved it!

You mock me still?  I remember the cold look in your eyes when you pulled the trigger.

Then your memory is fucking faulty!  I begged you, begged you to stop!  I pleaded with you to come with me!!  I'd drop everything I was to join you and help you find your sister!  I made a fool of myself but it didn't matter.  Only your obsession did!  That damned corruption took over and the Uldren Sov I knew was no longer there.  So yes, I pulled the trigger.  I chose my duty over love!  Do you not think I've tortured myself these all these years over it?  No one can make me feel worse than I make myself.

Quit with the excuses.  I don't want to see you any longer.

Done.

Siobhan sighed as she remembered Arawn transmatting her to the ship despite Glint's protesting.  She'd kept her word.  To the Vanguard's alarm, Siobhan kept herself to a self-imposed exile.  Her Fireteam had new partners they had watching their backs, they didn’t need her.  She did feel a little bit bad about leaving them, but both had understood her reasonings.  Nevia never understood but Siobhan never told her about the confrontation.  Siobhan knew Nevia had come to her own peace regarding Crow and what his actions as Uldren did.  Siobhan just couldn’t bring herself to tell Nevia what she and Crow argued about that day.  She was too ashamed.  Deep down she knew no one would understand, they’d argue she could’ve found a way to save Uldren, to not pull the trigger.  Siobhan couldn’t shake the thoughts and the guilt she harbored weighed her soul down.  “Well Arawn.  Hopefully Crow can put aside his feelings on the matter so we can work together.  He certainly didn’t keep that argument of ours quiet.  Did you see we got an email from the queen herself?”

“I remember.  She said that the Awoken people forgave you for killing Prince Uldren.  Didn’t she?”  Siobhan nodded and scoffed at the memory.  As if she needed an email like that.  From her memories of her past life, she understood it was Mara’s way of trying to assuage the guilt she carried.  Mara had always treated her with respect as Selene, and that extended to Siobhan now.  She still didn’t have to like the pandering that went into the email as Siobhan understood there was no way to truly forgive her.  She’d taken away Uldren.  Siobhan knew the anger lingered deep within Mara for that move even knowing how much the act tortured Siobhan’s soul.  “Be nice.”

“Look, I don't hate her.  I never did hate the woman.  I only said those names to rile up Uldren and it worked.  I just don't trust her.” Siobhan sighed and looked up as her ship pulled up next to Nevia's.  The ever familiar decals of the Queen of Hearts were as familiar as her own ship.  Siobhan smiled when she heard Nevia’s voice over the comm line.  “Here we go.”

“Ready?”  Siobhan shook her head as Nevia's face appeared on the screen.  They were both apprehensive about this mission, how could they not?  A direct threat to their Light was here, one that was stronger than any foe before them.  They’d faced down gods, fought for their Light, fought without it, had stood time and time again against the Traveler’s enemies.  Each time they’d come out of it, each bearing a new scar from it whether it was on the body or the soul.  This time…  Siobhan had a gut feeling she wasn’t going to make it out of this one intact, and she felt at peace with it.

“Ready as I’ll ever be. And with that, I mean no but I will do it anyway.”  Nevia’s answer resonated within Siobhan and they looked towards the pulsing heart of the Traveler.  She did find a smile tugging at her lips.  This reminded her of the time they went to Oryx’s dreadnaught.  They seemed to always face the impossible tasks together, with a few minor exceptions.  Siobhan wouldn’t have it any other way.  There was only one woman she ever wanted by her side if it came down to their last fight, and that was Nevia.  For her and for her fireteam, Siobhan would claw her way to the end.  No matter the cost.

“Off we go then.  To the end together?”  Siobhan didn't recall when they started using that phrase with each other.  It was a promise, to her at least, to always stick together.  Thick or thin, Light or no, nothing would tear their bond apart.

“Together.”

In the Heart of the Traveler

Siobhan huffed as her feet touched down inside the heart.  She was mildly irritated at the loss of her ship but understood it was a necessary sacrifice.  She looked around her and the quiet unnerved her.  Siobhan expected the inside of the Traveler to be tranquil and the quiet serene.  She could sense the underlying Darkness like an oily aftertaste.  It twisted her stomach and her irritation at the Witness snapped to the forefront of her mind.  She wouldn’t let that bastard get to the Traveler.  Arawn floated by her head as she continued on, hoping to get to the meet up point with Nevia.

“Ah geez, I hate being separated.  But we needed to cover more ground,” Siobhan grumbled as she marched across the former landing of the old Tower.  She remembered these grounds so well, the many times she ran from trouble, the day she got back from the Black Garden, walking along after the Vault of Glass.  The first time he’d held her hand had been here, and the first time he’d said how he felt about her without all the jokes.  She could still picture his face in her mind, even after all these years.  Some said that the faces of those lost would fade from memory, but Siobhan could still see Emyr’s face.  The quick grin had had for everyone, the quicksilver eyes that crinkled at the edges when he smiled.  Siobhan never forgot the way he held out his hand to her whenever she was feeling down.  Heya short stack, what’s got that mopey look on your face?  Her heart clinched at the memory and she struggled to tamp down on the burning lump in her throat.  Still too painful to think about, even after all the years later.  “Ah look at me, getting all sad because the Traveler crafted this from memory,” Siobhan laughed and looked up at the sky.  “I wish you could bring him back too…”  Arawn floated beside her struggling to find a way to comfort his Guardian when he realized they were getting a call.

“Siobhan.  Chia told me that Cayde is here.” Siobhan paused mid-step and looked at her Ghost.  She jerked her head towards the sky before back to her Ghost.  Did the Traveler hear her or something?  If so, she didn’t mean Cayde, but…  Siobhan knew it was entirely unlikely that her words brought Cayde back, not when she had another face in her mind.  Except.  She knew what this would mean to Nevia, and if it brought something of a smile to Nevia’s face then Siobhan would gladly have Cayde take her wish.  Though, logically, she knew that her thoughts didn’t bring him back.  Still, how in the hell was Cayde alive?  And more importantly, why was he in the Traveler?  Was that where all Guardians went after they died their final death?

“What!?”  Arawn nodded and relayed what Chia told him.  “Well geez.  They'll need some privacy for sure.  I guess we can head on for a little bit and then wait.  Ugh, what a sticky situation this turned out to be.  Wait, is Crow with them?” Arawn shook his head and she let out a frustrated groan.  That meant only one thing.  Given his history of doing reckless shit in the past.  Conveniently forgetting her own dumb stunts, Arawn wanted to add.  “Which means he’s gotten into stupid shit.”

“Are we going to have to rescue him?” Arawn asked as Siobhan kicked at a rock out of pure exasperation.  The sound of it pinged throughout the entire area and she wanted to scream.  She didn’t want to.  The man hated her, for good reason, and she had to work with him.  With Nevia and Cayde having their reunion and whatever unbidden feelings come up from that…  The entire thing was going to be awkward.  Siobhan wanted to whine about it all, she hated being confronted with her feelings and guilt and all the complicated relationship crap.  In the end, she knew what the answer would be and she groaned out loud.

“Yes,” Siobhan whined as Arawn laughed.  “Don’t laugh at me.  Well, whatever.  Do we have a read on his coordinates?”

“No, but I am picking up something from Glint.  Patching it through.”  Siobhan listened and shook her head.  Exactly like a fucking Hunter.  She didn’t quite approve of him leaving Glint out, but understood his hesitation for Glint’s safety.

“Reckless shit.  What did I tell you?” She shook a fist towards the sky.  “Relay the message to Chia, will you?  I'll meet them at the coordinates.”  Arawn agreed and sent the location to Chia.  He and his Hunter headed out to go rescue Crow.

After Reuniting Crow and Glint

Siobhan stepped away as they all spoke, just being close to him was enough to have her bristling.  Especially when he kept looking over at her, it wasn’t her fault they were going to be working together.  If anything, he could pin it on the Witness for forcing her to be here.  She would simply go where she was pointed, that would be the most ideal solution to this shitshow.  She huffed at her own despondent thoughts, those never got her anywhere.  Siobhan leaned against a rock with her eyes scanning the horizon for any traces of the Witness’s forces.  A sparkle caught her eye and she focused on a little ghost shell, one that looked too much like Byron’s.  As she reached for it, a sudden suffocating darkness swallowed her up.  Her senses were dulled as if she was drowning in a sea of clouds.  “Ah piss.”  She held the side of her head as she waited to see what the Witness would say, Siobhan didn’t think it would be anything else besides that smarmy bastard.  As if she was in the mood to hear whatever bullshit he was going to give her.

“I can grant you what you desire.”  She saw the image of herself and Uldren in front of her and the sight had her belly clenching in dread.  She sat with her legs crossed, lounging on the decadent throne with Crow kneeling beside her, her hand held in his as if in reverence.  The sight was enough to turn her stomach.  “He shall be utterly devoted to you.”

“Piss off.” Siobhan snapped and she sensed the surprise.  Did the Witness think they’d take whatever it offered?  Like some eager puppy dogs eager to please a master?  She wanted to put a bullet in the image in front of her, the urge to run clawed at her heart like a raging beast.  “Like I haven't been tempted before.  I'll give it to you for being original but fuck right on off with your bullshit.”  She heard the Witness hiss in displeasure and heard Arawn fight back against it.  The cracking sound coming from her Ghost’s shell alarmed Siobhan and she reached for him as he floated down after shattering the illusion the Witness crafted.  She cradled her Ghost to her chest, keeping him safe from any threat.  She ran her thumb over his shell and tears welled in her eyes as she saw how much pain he was in.  Arawn was the best part of her and to see him like this, it drove a spear through her soul.  Nevia crouched by her side, calmly placing her hand on Siobhan’s shoulder.  “Oh Arawn, you shouldn't have done that.  It cracked your shell.”

“I'll be alright.  I didn't want it to hurt you.”  Siobhan smiled at Arawn and let him disappear inside her Light to rest.  She turned to Nevia and saw the concern for her in her friend’s face.  She rubbed the back of her neck as she tried to think of what to tell Nevia.  Her eyes darted back over to Crow and Cayde before she decided to be cagey about what exactly she saw.  No one needed to know that.

“Ah, the Witness tried to tempt me.  I wasn't buying it though.” Siobhan waved her hand dismissively and tensed her shoulders when she heard Crow approach.  What was he going to say to her now?

“You shouldn't be so flippant about the Witness.”  Siobhan moved her lips as if mocking Crow, earning a stern look from Nevia to which she only huffed in return.  Siobhan crossed her arms and turned her head away from both Nevia and Crow.  She was allowed to be childish and immature in this case.  She did give Nevia a sideways glance when the other Hunter patted her shoulder.

“Flippancy is how I deal with stressful situations.  Arawn’s shell is cracked thanks to his fighting back against the Witness’s power.  I don’t know if I can fix that and what kind of pain my partner is going through.  Pardon me if I do what I can to cope.”  Nevia laid a hand on her shoulder, but Siobhan jerked it away.  She didn’t need to hear any lectures about her attitude.  Not now and not when it came to Crow.  She’d done everything he wanted when it came to staying out of his way.  “I'll be waiting over here for the plan.  Before I go though.”  Siobhan walked over to Cayde only stopping when the toes of her boots bumped his.  She narrowed her eyes at him in warning.  His optics flared in alarm at the look on her face, he knew that look well.  He also knew what followed it usually.

“Now wait, I already got an earful and a headache from those two.”  Cayde pointed before he held up his hands.  As if that was going to stop her.  He yelped when Siobhan kicked his shin.

“That is for making Nevia sad.”  Siobhan turned on her heel and walked away leaving Cayde shaking his leg out to ease the sting.  He sighed as he knew he deserved it and likely more for what he’d made everyone go through.  Nevia and the Vanguard weren’t the only ones affected by his death and he knew the burden this Hunter carried as Nevia told him Siobhan had avenged him.  What kind of wound did that put on her soul?

[sigyns-drafts]

um hii on your main i saw you're into mythical detective loki ? so i was wondering if i could request a little fic on freyr's feelings after founding out abt heimdalls death ! love your work :)

A/N: Hello, yes I am very much into mythical detective Loki! I don't usually write for it but I'll make an exception for you since the fandom deserves more attention! <3

Freyr's grief 💔

➩ After Heimdall's untimely demise when he had fought Loki, driven by anger towards him for his missing eye. When it had been in fact Odin who had stolen it. Loki was forced to bring back depressing news, especially to Freyr. The aftermath wasn't easy and the god now found himself seeking shelter at the detective agency.

➩ Reader type: none!

⚠: Includes spoilers for Mayura’s backstory and the plot of the Anime/Manga! Mourning a characters recent death, mention of a deceased mother, grieving friends.

In the dimly lit room of the detective agency, Freyr sat with a heavy heart, mourning the loss of his dear friend Heimdall.

It was a rainy day, so all their friends were staying inside to mourn together. It was a bittersweet moment for it to rain on such an occasion as this.

Freyr's dark blue eyes, usually gleaming with pride and determination to impress Mayura and protect his sister Freya, now reflected sorrow and emptiness.

Loki understood how Freyr must have felt after losing a fellow god, someone they both knew, despite his and Heimdall’s own complicated history.

Loki approached Freyr, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder causing the god to twitch and look up at Loki.

"Freyr, I know this loss weighs heavily on you, Heimdall was a good guy, a loyal friend. You're welcome to stay for as long as you need to recover from this.."

Freyr sighed deeply, his voice choked with emotion, he looked away from Loki's gaze. Seemingly embarrassed to be seen like this grieving state.

"Thank you Loki, I just can't bear the thought of him being gone. But how could he even have perished like that..?"

“All thanks to Odin's schemes..”

Suddenly Yamino and Mayura entered the room, the man holding a tray with tea and some treats.

He had gotten help from Mayura to open the door carefully so they wouldn't disturb the peace.

The two walked up to them, both hovering over the two as Yamino spoke softly, putting the tray down on the coffee table and feeling the need to share some comforting words.

"Loss is never easy my friend, I've brought you some tea and treats to eat when you feel like it.”

“Thank you Yamino..”

“And I brought a blanket, so that you can warm up and feel a little more comfortable. It's raining so much today!”

Said Mayura as she looks at Freyr's depressed state, frowning and feeling bad for him.

She puts the blanket around him while the god sniffs, trying to wipe his growing tears away.

Mayura knew what it was like losing someone, after all she had lost her mother at a very young age!

She looks at Loki and Yamino, as if she was asking for permission to speak.

The two men just nodded, like they had read her mind and the woman would take a deep breath to prepare herself.

“Hey, I can understand what you're going through..”

Freyr slowly looks up, confused about what Mayura was about to tell him, slightly worried on how she could understand such pain and grief.

“I personally always try my best to remember the memories me and my mother shared whenever I miss her. After all, they will always live on in your heart."

That was the last straw for Freyr. Seeing the girl he wanted to impress, to charm so much, be here for him and say such words, tell him how much she could relate to his situation.

It broke him! With tears glistening in his eyes, Freyr nodded gratefully and whimpered to himself.

“My beautiful Japanese flower, I didn't know you knew what it was like. Thank you, all of you!”

Freyr expressed with gratitude as he suddenly latched himself onto Mayura's waist, but she really didn't seem to mind.

Patting his back to comfort him as he sobbed into her shoulder.

“There there mystery thief, you're going to be alright~”

[casspurrjoybell-28]

Alpha's Temptation - Chapter 33 - Part 2

*Warning Adult Content*

"I had never known true pain until I saw that Alpha slaughter my mother in cold blood, right before my eyes.

I watched as she fell to the ground, the gravity of what had happened not even hitting me.

I hid silently in that tent the whole night, paralyzed.

Lucien and Theo found the decimated camp the next day.

It was Lucien's worst nightmare.

I still remember the devastated look on his face when he found me still hiding in that tent like a coward. 

Theo blamed me for her death.

I did too.

But Lucien never did.

He never took his grief or anguish out on me, despite how badly it hurt him.

He tried to be strong, even, for Theo and I because we were still kids. 

But the loss of her was too much for him to bear.

He fell into depression.

And every time I looked at the broken shell of the man that used to be the proud Alpha of our pack, guilt overtook me.

It was all I could feel sometimes.

Watching him mourn her was just as painful as my own mourning.

It was a reminder that I took away what he loved most in the world.

His mate.

His Luna. 

After that, I became strong.

Puberty hit me like a train and I sprouted up.

I worked out.

Got into fights.

I just wanted to be invincible.

I felt like it could make up for how weak and helpless I'd been as I watched that Alpha kill her.

I didn't want a mate, either.

After seeing what both Lucien and my biological Mom went through because of their mates, I swore I'd never claim mine.

Because they can get hurt and die in the blink of an eye when you aren't there to protect them.

And I never wanted to feel the pain of losing someone I loved again after I lost Rose.

Mates make you vulnerable.

And I...

I felt like I didn't deserve one anyway.

For so long, I've only been going through the motions, putting this self-inflicted guilt and restriction on myself.

Thinking that it's the only way someone like me can live."

Daemon gazes at me, eyes glittering with an emotion I can't name.

"So why, when I look at you, do I feel like I don't want to live like that anymore?"

My heart shatters for him.

For how much he's gone through, suffering all alone and torturing himself inside.

I pull him in close, blinking the wetness from my eyes.

"You don't have to, Daemon. You can live however you want," I say gently, stroking my fingers over his stubbled jaw. 

"Even if the guilt still haunts me?"

"S-Something will always haunt all of us. But that doesn't mean you don't deserve all that life has to offer. Because you do. You deserve happiness. She w-would have wanted that for you."

"You think?" he asks me.

"I know," I confirm.

"And f-for you, it's probably hard to see that what happened wasn't your fault. It's so hard to stop blaming yourself when what you experienced felt so real, so dependent on your actions. But there are some things that were always going to be out of our control. So, what happened? It was Dark Moon's fault. All of it. Not yours. I know people have probably told you that before but..."

"No," Daemon stops me.

"Hearing it from you is different. What you think is important to me. I've... never told anyone any of this before."

He observes my face, uncertainty prominent in his voice. 

"Y-You don't have to worry about me seeing you different. Because I don't. I would never," I say, shaking my head. 

"I know," his lips form a small smile.

"Sometimes I think you're an angel."

"Oh, Daemon," I sniffle, resting my head against his chest.

I'm no angel.

Did he forget I'm from the pack that's responsible for her death?

I mean, I know I wasn't a part of it but it's still disconcerting.

"It's true," he interrupts my thoughts, running his hands through my hair. "She would have loved you."

Knowing he's talking about Rose, I tear up for the hundredth time today, letting out a small sob.

I can't imagine how much she's been missed.

How brave her sacrifice was.

She was a wonderful person.

Why is it always the ones least deserving of it who suffer the worst? 

Daemon strokes my back to me calm me down like he always does and I cling to him tightly.

How ironic.

He just told me his Mom was killed in front of him, yet I'm the one being emotional.

I don't even think I've ever seen him cry.

"Daemon, I should be the one comforting you right now." 

Daemon lifts my chin to face him, placing a soft kiss on my lips.

"You have a good heart," he says when he pulls back.

"That's why you feel so deeply for others."

"My heart isn't... good," I deny.

It's really not.

It's twisted and pierced with thorns.

"Yes, it is," he insists. "I see you. And it's a damn good heart."

[dayseternal-blog]

In Memory, Katarinahime. Part 5.

It started from the end, how confusing, but it does. Only the first page is the beginning, just like any other story out there. It starts from the end, though, you know. I'll never call it Incomplete. I knew her in words.

@savage-scarcity, @angi1993, @bunny-hoodlum, @szajnie, and to others who have read or will read katarinahime's work.

This is a long personal reflection turned letter to you, if you would be willing to read it. I'm sharing from here in Part 5, written today because

Angi told me her funeral was today, Friday, July 15, 2022.

I'm not ready for closure.

This is Ongoing.

Please treat this like you would one of my stories.

"I don't know what to do with it." "With what?" "With all the love I have for her. I don't know where to put it now." - Phoebe Waller-Bridge, from Fleabag

I sat down where I once stood and hoped silence would be quiet enough.

Mouth full of love, and yet I didn't know my echoes still sounded in the dark.

I was so loud, who would have thought.

There are others louder, who would have thought.

"The community is in mourning."

Where?

If grief is another word for love, then so is guilt. And anger.

Of all things, a fortune cookie told me to "Seek solace in the creativity of others."

In my silence, I listened.

"When loss reaches her, she cannot even cry out, But where has it gone? And the sky, so utterly blue it can barely be faced." - Jane Hirshfield, from Of Gravity & Angels; “Surrounded By All the Falling”

"I never knew I could feel this type of sadness for someone I never met irl but ya just wanted to reach out and say I’m here if you ever need someone else in the community."

"My dear days. It must be so hard for you too. Please feel loved and let’s keep her in our thoughts, hearts and prayers. Much love to you."

"I'm all jumbled, I just keep thinking about that one lunch, that's all. It was just for a couple or so hours, tho. I mean, I am glad I did it. Her daughter had her eyes. I'm sorry, I'd hate for this to hang on you, the 'what-ifs'. It's hard not to be sad today."

"I have so much I wish I'd said. She was such a talent and a light. The whole fandom and world is dimmer without her. I love her and I love you."

"Having pushed the world away, we call it back through language." - Oliver Baez Bendorf, from Bone Dust

"Truly the news is really sinking in today, and it’s surprising to me how some people who found out on Friday like me are…moving on already. Thank you for messaging me! It’s comforting to grieve with others."

"So much love to you, too, angi. There is no one else like her for me. I'm holding her closely in my heart. Thank you for grieving with me."

"People are sending me asks about fanfics still and it’s like can they read the room. But I have to say I am comforted by the fact that so many other fandom members are grieving, too…I don’t know how to explain it. It’s less lonely than it otherwise would be."

"I read your reply, and it’s the words that I haven’t been able to articulate. There’s guilt and regret and I don’t know how long I will feel like this."

I lost her. I cannot write. And yet, how awful, all I can do is write!

I loved her. I loved her. I loved her.

I stood again, mouth full of grief, and I've been baring this wound to the void for days.

Please let this echo far louder than any list in the past, I swear her bones left untold will hear it from the other side of the dark.

She was listening? You tell me now that she listened to me?

Had I realized better,

Don't. I couldn't bear that guilt. No one can.

[projectfiction]

Yooooooo, i really love your writings for Watanabe and Kamui 😭❤ May i please ask for Chrome? :') it could be fluff, angst, whatever you have in mind honestly. Thank you and have a nice day/night!

Hello, anon! Thank you for the ask (and kind words)! I'm sorry it took so long to get to this; life's been a bit of a bitch lately (><)

Since you didn't request anything in particular, I thought it would be a good opportunity to explore something I've had in mind for a while.

This is about the concept of grief, the myriad aspects of it, and the ever-changing spectrum of ways it can be experienced. I explored each facet using a colour of the rainbow because I think it's interesting to link something usually associated with happiness to pain. It's an explorative and somewhat introspective piece, and perhaps a little weird, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. Take heed, it's a long one (3.8k)!

P.S.: if you don't like it, please feel free to submit another ask! I'm aware I may have taken a bit too much creative liberty with this one haha.

TW: major character death, angst.

Chasing Fire   //    CHROME

There are colours to grief. Sorrow is red and blue and violet, and everything in between. You can wear it like clothes, watch as it draws the eye and shuts the mouth. You can look through it like glass and see the world unfold. You can paint with it, stories and songs cradled in the empty space between your ribs.

You can breathe it in, but you can’t breathe it out.

Once you invite it in, it never leaves.

R E D   |   c h a s i n g   f i r e  

You lay in his arms, a broken doll weeping red. Blood had soaked through your shirt, inking your skin with tattoos of violence. There was so much of it. So thick it was smothering. So dark it was almost black. Chrome bit his lip and put more pressure on your wound. He couldn’t bear to look at your face, to see the pallor of it and know that death was calling. To know that he was the one who’d failed you. 

“Stay with me, Commandant,” he said, fighting to keep the panic from his voice. “Don’t fall asleep.”

“I’m not asleep,” you slurred. Bloodless lips curled into the ghost of a smile. “Just resting my eyes.” Your breaths were rapid and shallow, in time with a hummingbird pulse that grew fainter by the minute.

“Tell me a story,” he said urgently. “The last book you read?”

Your eyelids fluttered, but didn’t open. It took you several long beats to answer. “We don’t have to do this, Chrome.” Your fingers closed around his wrist. “I know.”

He bit back the lies that curled on his tongue. He wanted so much to deny, to look away from the unbearable truth, but he couldn’t lie to you. He never could. He reached out to caress your face, thumb brushing over the swell of your cheek. You exhaled softly. “I’m sorry,” he said, voice breaking. “I’m so sorry.”

You shook your head weakly. “Not your fault.”

“How can you say that? I promised them I’d bring you home. I was supposed to protect you and--”

You pressed a finger to his lips. Chrome could taste the blood on your skin. “Shhh,” you said with some effort. “It’s okay. You’ll be alright.”

“It’s not okay,” he insisted, holding your trembling hand between his own. “None of this is okay.”

“Well… I forgive you anyway.”

Those words shattered something inside him. Like a dam breaking, tears streamed down his face, drawn from some deep well of anguish without end. The pain inside him was a hunger that could not be satisfied, and would not be contained. There were so many things he wanted to say, but he couldn’t shape the words. Silent screams tore themselves from his throat, taking with them shattered pieces of his inhuman heart. Right then, he wasn’t a Construct; he was just a man with human hurts and human sorrows, mourning the loss of a human life. His grief called forth your own tears. They spilled down your cheeks in a bitter chain. Each staccato breath sent electric pain through your broken body, but you couldn’t stop. There was simply too much. Too much pain, too much regret. Too many things that needed to be said and not enough time to even begin. You could only cry and cry, and hope that Chrome understood. 

“Please don’t leave me,” he begged, head bent against yours. His voice was ragged and raw. “Please stay.”

“I want to,” you breathed against his lips. There were no more tears left in you. No space for grief. Only a dull ache and a growing numbness. “I’m scared. I don’t want to die.”

Chrome could have screamed. He could have ripped the world apart over the injustice of it all. But none of that would save you. He couldn’t kiss you better or change fate or reverse the flow of time. He could only hold you as you slipped from this world, as helpless as sand before the tide. 

“I would do anything to fix this,” he said, cradling your head between his hands. Your eyes were unfocused, the skin around them tight with pain. “I wish…” He blinked away the blurriness in his vision and tried again. “I wish I could have protected you.”

“What a… simple wish,” you rasped. “Lucky it already came true.”

“What?”

You smiled. Or tried to. It was hard to know what your body was doing anymore. “You protected my mind… My soul. That’s enough.” You swallowed thickly. It was getting harder to breathe. “Is it dark already? I’m so cold.”

Chrome gathered you to him gently. His arms around you were tight, but you hardly felt it. “I’m here,” he said in your ear, again and again. “I’ll always be here.”

Your head rolled back to rest on his shoulder. A chill was spreading through your body, as if ice had replaced the blood in your veins. It was uncomfortable, but you welcomed it. At least it didn’t hurt anymore. “Tell me something nice,” you said, letting your eyes drift shut. “A story… With a happy ending.”

A small sob escaped from Chrome. His breath quivered, dancing over your skin in small puffs of warmth. You wanted to wipe the tears from his face, to comfort him and be comforted in turn. But your body was no longer yours. It danced with death now, and you were simply a spectator in the stalls. You were so tired. You’d fought for so long. All you wanted was to sleep. Here, at the end of it all, you set down your burdens and let yourself rest. I’m listening, Chrome, you thought languidly, as the rhythms of your body slowed. 

-----------

Chrome felt like he was breaking apart at the seams, losing the very essence of himself to an uncaring world. All of his fleeting happiness felt so far away, like the remnants of an impossible dream. There was only a brief moment in time that was free of pain, brilliant and blinding like sunlight on waves. A lonely memory of kinder times. 

He returned to the landscape of his childhood, and began.

“Once upon a time, there was a prince who wanted for nothing. He had gold and gems and servants to fulfill his every wish. The world was at his fingertips, but he had no friends. He was lonely.” You gave a tiny hum. Chrome continued. “He searched high and low, but nobody cared for his formality and stiffness. They called him a robot, who didn’t know what it meant to be human. Then one day, he met a beautiful girl. She caught his attention immediately.” He pressed a kiss to your temple. “She treated the prince like any other person, without fear or judgement. And so she became his first and dearest friend.” 

You mumbled something, though he couldn’t make out the words. “The two went on many adventures together, defeating great evils across the lands. Dark beasts and corrupt kings and disease. After their journey closed, the prince found that he’d fallen in love with her. He loved her beauty, her bravery, and her intellect. She was everything he wasn’t and more besides. Their marriage was celebrated across the kingdom. Together, they ruled fairly and--” His voice cracked, but he forced himself to continue. “And there was no more suffering in their lands. Everyone was happy, but none more so than the king and queen. The end.”

You were silent. Your tortured breaths had faded to pained little gasps like you were choking on air. Your body twitched in his arms, fighting enemies he couldn’t see. Chrome let out a broken sob. “Go then,” he said. “Go if it hurts. Go. I love you.”

That seemed to be the permission you needed. Your body stilled with a final exhale. You were slack and cold against his chest, a dead weight upon his soul. He struggled against the urge to scream. Chrome buried his face in your neck and breathed you in, lavender on blood mixed with a cloying sweetness. “Come back,” he whispered against your skin. “Please come back to me.”

His heart beat steadily in his breast, a perfectly inhuman thing that never wavered. But he could still feel it break.

He wept like his soul was being ripped apart. 

Grief is red, roses and thorns all at once. Like chasing fire, I reach for the warmth of memory, but there is only the burn of flame. There is no comfort here, only endless paths of pain.

-----------

O R A N G E   |   b u r n i n g   c o a l s 

Hassen sighed. “I understand you’re distressed,” he said. “But I won’t accept your resignation.” He held up a hand before Chrome could object. “People who want to be Constructs are rare. Those who are compatible are even rarer. If you leave, there’s nobody to replace you as leader of Strike Hawk.”

“Kamui or Banji are more than capable,” Chrome countered adamantly. “They’re just as experienced.”

Hassen raised a brow. “Surely I don’t need to tell you experience isn’t the only measure of competence.”

Chrome fell silent. He knew Hassen was right, but he didn’t want to acknowledge it. His spirit was shattered. Picking up the broken pieces was a mountain he didn’t know how to climb. “I don’t know how to go on,” he said finally. “It’s too painful.”

“It’s painful now, but it’ll pass,” Hassen said. His breath hitched. “Trust me.”

Chrome didn’t think he could trust anyone ever again. Himself least of all. He nodded mutely. Hassen seemed satisfied with that. He turned to leave before pausing at the door. “You should attend the funeral,” he said after a moment. “It’ll help.”

Chrome felt like he’d been slapped. “No,” he said immediately. “I doubt Gray Raven wants to see the man who killed their Commandant.”

“They’ve had time to process. And grieve. I think they’ll want to see you.”

He said nothing. He could hardly look at the other man. Hassen sighed. “Just think about it.”

The doors hissed shut behind him. 

-----------

He couldn’t go to the funeral. He’d thought about it like Hassen asked, but there would be too much of you there. Too many reminders that you were gone, not even bones left to hold. He didn’t want to hear others talking of your life and glorifying your death. He couldn’t bear to hear of your bravery when all he could see was the fear in your face and the regret in your eyes. He still remembered the tremble in your hands, the way you’d clung to him and wept. Your words rang in his mind. Those words that chased him from day to night, and haunted him in hollow dreams.

I’m scared. I don’t want to die.

Chrome buried his face in his hands. The tears swept over the plains of his soul, trying to ease an unquenchable hellfire. He clenched at the sheets. Tore at his hair. He slammed his fist into the ground until sparks flew from metallic joints. 

But there was nothing that could heal the wound within. 

Grief is orange. Burning coals simmering under the surface, stirred to flame by the gentlest of reminders. It hides and it sleeps, but it never dies.

-----------

Y E L L O W   |   s e t t i n g   s u n

He stumbled, gasping for breath. His entire body hurt. Vital fluid leaked from a dozen places, but Chrome ignored it. Another swing, another slash. Corrupted hands reached for him like the groping hands of death. Something sharp dug into his shoulder. He grunted and swept his scythe in a blazing arc before yanking the blade from his body. His vision glitched. Warning signals flashed. Vital fluid loss. Stabilisation module damaged. Core processing unit under extreme strain. Chrome swept matted hair from his eyes. He didn’t need to be told his body was failing. He could feel it in the heaviness of his limbs, in the flaring pain that accompanied every movement. The world was dark around the edges. 

Is this how you felt, Commandant? Did it hurt like this?

His legs buckled. The ground rose to meet him even as the bright edge of a blade descended on his right. Chrome closed his eyes. 

“CAPTAIN!”

The clash of metal on metal was followed by the thunderous crash of something collapsing. Strong hands picked him up as his teammates slung his arms over their shoulders. “It’s not like you to be so reckless,” Kamui said with real fear. “It’s almost like you want to die.”

“I--” He broke off. Did he want to die? He hadn’t tried to defend himself at all. But he could have. He knew he could have. 

“Not yet,” Banji said quietly from his other side. “We still need you, Captain.”

Chrome hung his head. Shame and regret warred in his fragile heart. He didn’t know how to feel, but one thing was clear:

It wasn’t yet time. He’d have to keep you waiting a little longer. 

Grief is yellow. Soft and gentle, like the afterglow of a setting sun. Even when the flame has gone, it remains. It doesn’t burn anymore, but it haunts me all the same.

-----------

G R E E N   |   j a d e d   e y e s

The days were getting easier. He still felt the loss of you like a missing limb, but your phantom hands no longer suffocated him. Your lips no longer kissed to kill. You’d turned from a vengeful spectre into something softer, a shade that kept him company in the dark. He breathed, it seemed, for the first time in a long time. 

Yet his mind still caught at the smallest things. Lovers kissing in the dark. Two hands twined together. Laughter around the corner. He missed the warmth of your touch, soft and tender in a way only humans could truly be. He yearned for the press of your skin against his, intimate and secret in the lonely nights. He wanted to hear your voice and kiss your lips. More than anything, he wanted you beside him. Loving him as you could, the way he loved you. 

But there was only a shadow by his side, clinging to him with invisible claws. It held your shape and stole your face, but Chrome knew it for the monster that it was. 

“Congratulations,” he said politely, handing a beautifully wrapped present to the bride. “May your love be everlasting.”

The couple beamed at him, radiant in their happiness. Their gratitude was as real as his words were false. 

He turned away.

Grief is green. Envious eyes, jealous heart. I thought I was healing, but perhaps I am healing wrong. Who is the man in the mirror?

-----------

B L U E   |   o c e a n   d e p t h s 

Chrome, you said. Remember to breathe.

I am breathing, he thought, suddenly aware of the rising bubbles all around him. Big and small, wild and free, running towards the light above. Am I breathing?

You laughed. I’m not sure. I can’t tell.

He purposefully took a large gulp. Air flooded into his lungs despite the sunlit ocean around him. He laughed. That’s strange. Have I turned into a fish?

You’re very much not a fish, you confirmed. He couldn’t see you, but your voice was clear. Everywhere and nowhere all at once, like you were the very water itself. 

Where are you? He looked around, but there was only the endless sea. Crystalline waters vast and empty, and so beautifully blue. 

You sounded sad. Not with you, though I wish I was. 

Then come, Chrome said happily. I’ll pick you up. Just like always.

If only you could. But I think I’m a little too far away.

What do you mean?

You didn’t answer. The ocean was growing dark around him, black ink like oil rising from the depths. Smoky tendrils curled around his legs. He shuddered. Trying to kick them off only seemed to create more. He kicked towards the surface, but the sunlight was gone. The waters were ice against his skin, cold and unwelcoming. A black hand closed around his throat. 

Chrome thrashed desperately, but there was no escape. The blackness was complete, like the hand of night had crushed the world in its palm. There was no beginning and no end, no up or down. Only a darkness so deep it consumed all else. Help! Don’t leave! 

I can’t stay, you said. Your voice was already fading. Let me go, Chrome. 

Wait! He inhaled a lungful of grease. Come back! 

But you were gone. 

The sea swallowed him whole. 

-----------

Chrome woke with a start. The room was still grey; his alarm hadn’t gone off yet. He rubbed a hand over his face and stared at the sheets tangled around his feet. There was no black sea after all. Just twisted linen and hopeless dreams.

He rose and got dressed. 

Grief is blue. Endless like the ocean and just as deep. Vaster than the sky and just as curious. Always it finds new shapes to take, and new ways to hurt me.

-----------

I N D I G O   |   s c a r   t i s s u e

He’d taken to wearing your engagement ring on a chain around his neck. Always tucked away so nobody could see. Always there, warm against his artificial heart. He fingered the polished metal. It was a simple band. No diamonds or gold, not that there was any left to be had. But you’d smiled at him all the same, accepting his proposal with a giddy joy that had kindled his own. 

Chrome had secretly recorded the moment, intending to play it at your wedding. That was a shattered dream now, but he couldn’t bring himself to delete the data. He watched the clip again, smiling softly at the happy grin on your face. You peppered his face with kisses, arms and legs wrapped around his body. There was no audio, but he could hear every word.

He flicked the video off. Things like this no longer bothered him. Distance and time had dulled the pain and stitched his wound closed. The knife’s edge of memory was almost a comfort now, barely a scratch when it used to be a stab. Still, though he no longer bled, the scars lingered. And they would never let him forget. They would never let him forgive. 

No amount of time would ever wipe the stain of your blood from his soul. 

Grief is indigo. It’s what emerges at the edge of night, when the heat of day has passed. It’s the scar tissue that remains when the wound has closed. Even when it no longer hurts, I’ll always carry the memory of that pain.

-----------

V I O L E T   |   u n s e e n   s o u l

“If we attack from here, we can catch them in a pincer move,” Chrome said, pointing to the map. “Our chances of success will increase.”

“I agree,” she said, flashing a smile at him. Her hand rested close to his, so close he could feel the heat of her on his skin. “Looks like the majority agree with Chrome.” She nodded. “Great. That’s the plan then. Meeting adjourned.”

Chrome made to leave. “Wait, Captain.”

He turned. She smiled at him, clearing her throat awkwardly as she waited for the others to file out. Someone winked at him as the room emptied. His heart sank. 

“So,” she started when it was just the two of them. “You really took charge of that meeting.”

“Just doing my job,” he said lightly. “Can I help you with something else?”

She hesitated before meeting his eyes. They were large and earnest, so like yours. And yet so very different. His heart squeezed painfully. “I was wondering if you’d like to catch up for lunch sometime?” she asked shyly. Her voice was small and uncertain, so different from the proud Commandant of minutes ago. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, looking away. “I’m unavailable.”

She deflated immediately. “Really? I thought… I was told that you didn’t have anyone at the moment. Is it just me then?”

“It’s not you. It’s...” He trailed off. There really was no way to say it. “I’m not looking for anything right now.”

“Is it… Is it your fiancee? I heard about what happened.”

Chrome said nothing. She studied him and sighed. “It’s been three years since then, hasn’t it? This could be the start of something new.”

He smiled ruefully. “It could,” he admitted, brushing his fingers across her cheek. “But it won’t. I’m sorry.”

-----------

Chrome returned to his room. Your ring gleamed on the table, scuffed and bent after all the battles it’d seen. You’d loved that thing like it wasn’t just a piece of scrap metal. It carried a piece of your soul and would always be beautiful for it. Because it wasn’t just a fragment of you, it was the part of you that had been given to him freely in love and acceptance. And now, it was the only thing left to him. A dead thing that had taken your place in his heart. 

He sighed and sat on the bed. His room was the same as ever. The same four walls, the same white sheets. The same desk and lights and air. Only you had changed, leaving your physical body behind for a ghost that haunted him. But even that was gone now. There was only your ring, and the ash of his memories. 

Chrome thought back to the woman. He couldn’t deny that there was a part of him that was drawn to her, but there was a bigger part of him that couldn’t let you go. The Gray Ravens had gotten a new Commandant two years ago, one they treated with as much respect as they had you. Neither Kamui nor Banji had mentioned your name in years. The world had moved on while you slept. 

If he joined them and looked to the future, if he allowed himself to forget… You really would disappear. Just another grave. Just another statistic. He couldn’t bear that. Even if the world forgot, he wouldn’t. 

So long as he remembered, some piece of you would remain here, with him. 

So long as he remembered, he could pretend that life was still worth living. Because deep down, Chrome knew that while his body still moved and his heart still beat, the pieces of him that made him whole had died with you. 

And you would always be gone. 

Grief is violet. I can’t always see it, but it’s always there. The hidden seventh, an unseen soul. My love, one day, we’ll meet again. And I’ll tell you a brand new story.

[rrickgrrimes8]

hi! i was thinking if you could write an imagine of reader being rick and lori's daughter and sister to carl, rj and judith. i don't have a specific idea in mind, but just her before and after the time jump, struggling with being there when lori and carl died, and looking for rick with daryl, her relationship with her siblings and michonne, maybe maggie and hershel too (i was thinking since carl was 10 when it all started, she was 7 so now she's 17) thank you so much, and btw i loved your imagines i've read so far 💞

Being a Grimes ~ Rick Grimes x Grimes!reader

thank you so much for requesting i really enjoyed making this one. i also have a series kinda like this about Jacey Grimes which i’m currently making a book two for.

warnings: alluding to sexual assault or rape, suicide, death, gore (lemme know if i’ve missed anything off here)

sorry if there is any mistakes please tell if there is and give me feedback i’d love to here back from yall

masterlist

request guidelines

request are open

It was strange for y/n. This world would be strange for anyone really. But she was different. At only a mere 7 years old when the world went to shit she struggled as did many others. With the recent loss of her father - one she didn't entirely understand - still protruding through her heart, it was hard - so hard. 

When it happened she was at daycare. The teaching assistant tried and successfully ate the teacher in front of her. She was next and was so close to being eaten until Shane rushed in. He kicked Ms Twune and grabbed y/n. Her mom sobbed at the sight of her, covered in blood and the tears smothering her daughters face. Carl was shocked too. He wanted nothing more than to protect his little sister. His dad always used to tell him that that was his duty - his job. And he hated how he had failed in this moment. 

They made it to the quarry soon after. Y/n thought the group was nice - well mostly. The Dixon brothers scared her was what she told her brother or any of the children she had befriended. But she was lying. Yes, she was scared but only of Merle. He was creepy and mean to anyone he saw. Daryl was somewhat the same but he always found himself being nicer to the young child. And often kept her company when Lori and Shane went for a ‘walk’ in the woods. Glenn was another she found herself drawn to. He unlike Daryl happily invited her company. Glenn was sweet and funny. He never failed at making her laugh till she felt like she was going to pee. They were good friends which came to a fault when he had to go on runs. She’d scream and cry and refuse to let go of him because she was afraid that what happened to her father would happen to him. 

That’s what happened earlier that morning. Glenn and a few others were going into Atlanta, despite her dismay. Glenn assured her he’d be fine, which she didn't believe and continued her tantrum. 

“Can yer’ shut that damn baby up?” Merle spat covering his ears. 

Shane shot him a threatening glare while Glenn stayed preoccupied with the distraught girl. “Hey, it's okay. I’m coming back,” He insisted holding her tightly at his hip, “I promise you, sweet girl.” 

“No, b-b-but dada promise too a-a-and h-he,” She stopped herself, sobs erupting from her small body. 

“I know sweet girl, I know. But I’ll be back I know I will.” Glenn placed her on the back of the RV, “I tell you what I’ll bring you back some of your favourite sweeties, huh? Would you like that?” 

Giddily she nodded at his proposition, “Yes! Yes!” 

“Alright, then I’ll bring back some for you, okay?” She nodded smiling cheerfully, “I love you, kid.” 

“I luv you too, dumbass,” y/n giggled. 

Glenn looked around cautiously hoping no one heard that “Hey sweet girl you can't say that.” 

“W-what? Why?” the child began to cry again, “Y-y-you say it.” 

“I know b-but its adult words okay? Not y/n words. When you're older, alright?” She nodded her head again kissing his cheeks softly and hugging him. “Thank you, sweet girl. I’ll see you soon,” He kissed the top of her head and started towards the car smiling as she shouted, “With sweeties!”

The group returned hours later bearing a new man instead of Merle. Y/n waited patiently for Glenn and the aforementioned sweets. "Gen!" She screamed happily still unable to say his name fully. The man sprinted over to her, pulling her into a much-needed cuddle after the day he had. 

"It's Glenn, sweetheart," He chuckled while correcting. 

"Oh sorry Gen," She wrapped her dainty arms around his neck. 

"That's okay, sweet girl. I missed you." 

"I missed you too," She whispered before letting out a longwinded 'ew', "You stinky, Gen." 

The man smelt his shirt and nodded as the potent smell of walkers reached his nose. "I know yucky right?" 

"Yucky!" Y/n buried her face in Glenn's shirt ignoring the stench and just enjoying his company. She always became clingy like this after coming home from a run. He loved it. On runs, if he ever encountered a life-threatening situation - like the one today - he always finds himself realising how much she means to him. Glenn saw her as a little sister - one almost replacing the ones that were cruely ripped from him when this began. 

"How was it?" She inquired. 

"Not fun, sweet girl. But I got your sweeties and a nice man helped us out. Saved us," She beamed. 

"I like the good man. I'll give him two kisses when I see him. Maybe even one of my sweeties," Glenn chuckled. 

"Why two kisses, y/n?" 

"One for saving you. Two for bringing you hom," Glenn grinned contently and kissed her forehead. 

"Its home bubs with an e on the end." 

"Oh," She mumbled burying herself again. 

"Oh my God," Someone muttered as they exited the van. 

"Dad! Dad!" Carl screamed causing Glenn to snap his head in their direction. Carl came running towards the man, Rick, who had saved them in Atlanta. Y/n hadn't moved yet as she feared it was only a dream. That her dada wasn't really here. 

"Sweet girl," He pulled her out of his neck, "Look it's your dad." The child gazed over to where her brother had run to. Sure enough, it was her dad. He held Carl as he cried, looking to Y/n wanting to hold her too. 

"Dada!" She screamed jumping out of Glenn's arms dangerously. The girl scraped her knee on the way down but continued throwing herself into the hug. 

"Oh, Carl! Y/n!" She kissed all over his face childishly, "I luv you, dada." 

"I love you too, baby girl."

~

The years hadn't been kind to Y/n. She lost so much. Too much in fact that it had driven her to the depts of insanity and made her do things to herself, to others that she more than resented. The first loss was her mothers. She wasn't there like Carl was but the grief burned through her still. Y/n was too young to understand it really. Just how she was when Rick supposedly died. Y/n couldn't understand where her mom had gone she just knew she had a little sister now. One she swore to protect. 

She thought she had failed that when the prison fell. The young child was on her own. Injured and lost. She wandered through the woods for days until she stumbled across a group. The group were mean and despite her resistance wouldn't let her go. They hurt her in ways she didn't and wouldn't speak of it even now. But that all changed when Daryl showed up. He protected her - stopped them from hurting her. And eventually led her back to her family. Where for the first time she began to fear her father. 

Terminus was next. The people there snatched her from her family. She was forced to watch from afar as they were guided into the crate. Rick fought against them, Carl too but it was to no use. They had sectioned her off in a playroom. Every once in a while an older woman came in to fed and played with her. She hated it. Being in this world for more than a year now she knew that people like them didn't just want to play even if she did. She learnt that from the Claimers. 

Carol found her. Although having never have been all that close to the older woman - the only relation being the closeness between y/n and Sophia - seeing her after so long made her cry out of joy. Carol was happy too as she rushed out of that place to take her to safety. The pair ended up in the woods. Carol had stopped a moment ago to clean the dirt from her face, "lemme help." 

The girl sat up from where she was put down and cupped some water splashing it on Carol's face. Carol flinched as the water hit her, "Uh thank you." 

"Welcome," She looked away getting distracted by the nearing sound of footsteps. 

"Get behind me, y/n," Carol ordered to which she shook her head. 

"No it dada," She ran away from the woman and towards the group. 

"Y/n come back here!" Y/n continued ignoring Carols pleas and crashed herself into the back of Rick's legs. 

The father shot around and began to cry as he saw the child he thought he lost at his feet. "Oh, baby!" He collected the girl in his arms. Carl rushed to them too happy to see her alive after Gareth claimed he killed her. "Oh y/n, never leave me again, okay?" He looked directly into her matching blue eyes, "Promise me." 

"I promise, dada." 

Later Carol led them to Judith. Y/n was over the moon and refused to let her out of her sight, which was exactly what Rick was doing too. They found the church a while after. There they had some semblance of peace. She was glad to have Glenn back - Maggie too. Along with the new people although Eugene was a bit weird. 

At the church was also when the questions started. Daryl had told Rick about the group they were with and regretfully had to inform the father how she was there before him. Rick asked y/n - begged her - to tell her what happened. But she refused. She couldn't say what happened. What they did, which just made Rick fear more. Eventually, she spoke a little about it. She was vague and could barely string two words together without crying. He hated it. He hated how this was a reality for his daughter. He saw the bruises they left. And he couldn't understand how someone could touch his child. Or how he could be so powerless to stop it. 

Bob died. She didn't really know the man but it still upset her. Beth too. Although she was a lot closer to her. Beth was one of her only friends and was someone who would look after her when her father couldn't. They bonded and now she was gone. 

After Beth's demise, they spent lots of time on the road. They suffered, almost died countless times but they prevailed. They got stronger - she got stronger. And they eventually found Alexandria. There everything was good again like how it was at the prison or even before this hell. She liked it there and didn't understand why the others were so sceptical. 

Though that didn't last for long. Y/n began to hate the place when Carl got shot. Alexandria almost stole her brother from her. So she despised it. She refused to leave her brother's side as he adjusted to his injury. Yes, he found it annoying how she wouldn't leave him be and he often snapped at her. But she was there when he needed her. Despite the age difference and the many years of memories they had lost to this fight, she understood his pain. When he saw himself as ugly, a monster even, she made him think otherwise. She kept him afloat, which he was eternally thankful for. 

Glenn was next. 

She didn't believe it even after she was forced to see it with her own two eyes. She was next to Glenn in the lineup. She had to watch up close. Y/n had to be mocked by that man. She had to stay the whole night with her best friends brains on her face. After that night she blamed herself. She told herself that if Negan was just one person off she would be dead and he would live. He would get to see his child born and grow old with Maggie like they had spoken about. She wholeheartedly believed he deserved to live over her. 

The war with Negan shook her to the core. At the time his face filled her nightmares. He just looked so normal. He looked nice even. Yet he hurt and he hurt and he hurt. 

He killed her Glenn. And then Carl. It wasn't Negans fault although she did blame him. Carl had gotten bit. Y/n held his hand as he died in that tunnel as the home they had built above them fell. She got a letter too - even though she would rather have preferred to have her brother back. In the letter, Carl told her how proud he was of her - how thankful he was to have her as a sister. He told her to protect Judith, their dad and Michonne, who she had recently begun to call momma. 

After Carl's death, y/n shut herself from the world well everyone except her father. For days she would cry until she couldn't anymore. She would scream and scream until her voice was gone. She just didn't understand why it had to be Carl? Why mom? Why Glenn? Why Beth? Why was it never her? The following weeks she found herself wishing it would be her next. She could never bring herself to say it out loud but with any battle, any fight, anything, she wished it would be her. 

So when she lost her father her whole world fell apart. He was her consistent so why did he leave her? She was at the bridge that day. Daryl held her crying frame as Rick set off that final shot blowing him and the walkers off the bridge. Y/n Grimes' father was dead. 

She stayed in Alexandria for a while afterwards. For the sole reason to protect her siblings. Yes, siblings - plural. Somehow through all the bad some good came from it. She just wished her father and Carl could've seen it. RJ Grimes came into this world 9 months later. And he was perfect. For months she would assist in taking care of him as Michonne wasn't doing the greatest without the love of her life. Truth be told neither was y/n she was just better at hiding it. 

Until one night it all became too much. Y/n didn't know how it happened but she found herself balancing on the edge of her window. She wanted to jump - to end it. But she just couldn't will herself to do it. And when Daryl showed up she knew she couldn't. "Hey step away from ta window, alrigh'," The man ordered as he saw her shaking frame rocking back and forth. 

"I-i can't," She sobbed. 

"Ye' ya can. Jus' step back I'll catch ya," Daryl moved closer but paused when she shouted to stop. 

"I can't, Daryl. They're all gone. They're all dead," The tears clouded her eyes. She shut them tightly picturing her families faces wanting so badly to join them. 

"Please jus' step back, y/n. Yer' not alone. I'm here," He croaked the tears floating down his cheeks, "Don't jump." 

"I love you, Daryl." 

"I love ya too, okay? So step away from the window," He watched as she turned her head slightly catching his eyes. 

"I love you but I can't. Tell mom, RJ and Judy I love them as well." 

Suddenly she went to fall forward but Daryl reacted quicker. He gripped her waist pulling her into the room unwilling to release his grasp. "Yer' not leaving me," He told her as she cried into his shoulder, "Yer' cant leave me." Overhearing the chaos, Michonne entered her daughter's room to see the window wide open and the two of them crying. Daryl looked at her. The look telling her all she needed to know. Michonne began to cry herself and joined them on the ground. 

"Y/n?" A small voice called from the door frame. 

"Judith go back to bed, okay?" Michonne told her but Judith continued towards her sister. The girl said nothing as she wiped her sister's tears and held her hand.

It was 5 years later now. After her attempt, she left Alexandria with Daryl in search of her father. She didn't believe he was alive despite everything inside her wanting to. But Daryl did and after what happened they became a lot closer. He was happy she joined him. Even though the act of being out there was gruelling at times he was glad he could look after her. And if something would've happened to her while he was gone he could never have forgiven himself. Understandably Michonne was angry that y/n decided to leave. Y/n was her daughter and Michone her mother. They needed each other but she was willing to let Y/n leave to figure that out. It brought her peace looking for her father. 

The silence was her favourite and as Daryl wasn't much of a talker she got lots of it. They got a dog too, which Daryl cleverly named Dog. Everything was a messed up version of okay but it was still good. Being out there made her find her purpose. She went home a lot more than Daryl did, which pleased her siblings and mother. It was always for a few days never longer as she feared she'd stay forever and she couldn't. As much as Alexandria is good it also drives y/n to a dark place. One she was in that night. She lost so much there. And staring at those four walls drove her insane. It didn't help how Negan was imprisoned there. Just thinking how close he was made her skin crawl. She knew how Rick visited him when he was alive that he believed Carl was right about the killing. That it had to stop. Y/n knew he was right too but she could never bring herself to one admit or two face Negan. 

It felt like a story she read as a child when the Whisperers showed up. Like Negan, they scared her. So when she was told about his escape she only assumed the worst. The Whisperers took so many from them. Like Enid for example. Her story was cut short because of them. The two never really spoke but she understood how she and Carl felt for each other at a time. So ultimately it felt like she lost her final piece of Carl when she died. Y/n wished she had spoken to her when she could've. She wished she could've heard the untold stories they shared. She needed to know about Carl's final years with her. But now she's gone too along with those memories. 

The war with the Whisperers took everything from them. The Kingdom. Hilltop. Alexandria. Along with the lives they lost in the process. With the group separated she found herself protecting Judy and RJ. Michonne had gone. Where she had gone to, y/n had no idea. For a messed up reason, she began to prepare herself for her mother's death before it was even announced. That was until she got the call. She was okay and... apparently so was Rick. 

Disbelief was what hit her first. She couldn't hear his voice nor see his face so how could she know it was true. Michonne didn't know either she couldn't if he was really there, still alive. That night of the call she left. Without hesitation, she kissed RJ and Judith's heads, told them she loved them and told them to tell everyone else that and left. She left in the direction Michonne had told her. 

She left to find her father. And she knew she wouldn't return until she did. "I'm coming, dad."

[lipstickstainz]

true lies - s. r. (12/?)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Series Summary: Spencer is furious, when you rejoin the team after a year and after you left him, when he got arrested. Little does he know, that you leaving him was the only option to ever get him out of prison.

Chapter Summary: A collection of letters Spencer and you share while you're gone - and then you're gone forever. At least, that what he thinks.

Warnings: some fluff, angst, angst, angst, smoking, slight ptsd, grief and loss

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: I'm sososososo sorry. please don't hate me. I love you. gif not mine.

Series Masterlist

previous part

Dearest little bear,

two months have passed since you had to leave, and not a day goes by that I don't think of you and wish you were here with me.

We are trying to do everything in our power to be able to bring you back home. But unfortunately, it seems to be taking longer than I would like.

I was told you were working on it as well. You are strong and smart and even though you can't be with me, I'm sure we can do it together.

Take care of yourself.

With love,

Neruda

-

Dearest Neruda,

I was very happy to receive your message. I always carry it with me, although I would rather be in your arms, but I can't.

I can't tell you where I am right now, but still I wish you were with me. It is warm and beautiful and I am sure you would like it here very much.

Except for these letters, I'm not allowed to talk to any of you, but I like talking to you best anyway. We've come this far. And we'll make it.

Thinking of you.

With love,

little bear

-

Dearest little bear,

It's been four months and with each passing second it becomes more unbearable. But a light is appearing at the end of the dark tunnel. We think we know who she is.

It won't be long before we can see each other again. And I can't wait to be able to hug you again. To be able to touch you. Or kiss you.

Not much longer. And then nothing can separate us.

Take care of yourself.

With love,

Neruda

-

Dearest Neruda,

It would have been too good to be with you again at last. But it still takes time.

I have found something that can help us, but for now, just know that I will do everything I can so that I can return home. Back to you. No matter what it costs.

Keep your eyes open. We're closer than you think.

I'm thinking of you.

With love,

little bear

-

Dearest little bear,

I was given time off to take a break. I was with my mother and she told me that a kind young lady had been here. She doesn't remember you, but she knows you are familiar and that she can trust you. As I do.

I am infinitely grateful. And I'm tired of waiting, but for you I do. For you, I do it all.

Take care of yourself.

With love,

Neruda

-

Dearest Neruda,

I can no longer grasp a clear thought, because whenever I close my eyes I see everything I have done in review. I can hardly sleep and the nightmares plague me.

I just hope that everything will end soon. It has already been a year since we saw each other. I can't promise you anything, but I hope you know that everything I had to do was for you. For us.

Thinking of you.

With love,

little bear

-

Dearest little bear,

it's been a few weeks since I've heard from you. I hope you are doing well.

We have found a trail that will take us further.And brings me a little closer to you. And that will bring you back home. I can't wait.

Take care of yourself.

With love,

Neruda

-

Dearest little bear,

It's been two months since you wrote to me.

Get back to me as soon as you can.

Take care of yourself.

With love,

Neruda

-

Dearest little bear,

Words cannot describe how much I miss you. Or how great the pain in my chest is.

I can't eat, I can't sleep. I can hardly breathe without you.

Thinking of you.

With love,

Neruda

-

Dearest little bear,

they hung your picture today. In the portrait you are smiling, proud to finally be part of the team. I can't look at it.

I was sent home, but everything there reminds me of you.

Thinking of you.

With love,

Neruda

-

Dearest little bear,

I keep your letters in a small box next to my bed. They are a part of you that I don't want to lose, even though I have already lost you. They are a part of you, just as you are a part of me.

Thinking of you.

With love,

Neruda

-

Dearest little bear,

I went to our bookstore and found a book of poems that you would like. I'll put it with your letters.

No book in the world could have prepared me for the grief I feel. The pain is too engaging for me to talk about it with anyone but you.

Thinking of you.

With love,

Neruda

-

Dear little bear,

it's been almost two years since we last saw each other. I don't remember what you sound like, or what you smell like. Why can't I remember that? Is it wrong of me not to think it's bad? It takes away my pain a little.

Thinking of you.

With love,

Neruda

-

Dear little bear,

A lot has happened in the two years we've been apart. Too much to ever be able to write down all the things. I just want you to know that this time was not easy for me. Not for any of us.

I put your letters away safely because you will always be important to me. But I have to let you go. And with this, I release you.

I love you. Forever.

With love,

Neruda

-

You pinch your leg to wake up. Your neck is wet with cold sweat and you have to blink several times to realize that you are in a cab. You run your hand through your hair as the driver looks at you curiously through the rearview mirror. He says nothing, which is why you glance out the window.

The drive from the airport to Quantico only takes an hour, but you still take the opportunity to close your eyes for a moment and doze a little. You haven't had a decent night's sleep in ages, you don't even know what a healthy portion of sleep feels like anymore, because you haven't had that luxury in the last two years.

As the car comes to a stop in front of the FBI building, you pay the driver and get out with your small bag. The building seems much bigger than you remember. You used to spend every day here, it had once been your home. But now you're not even sure you have a home anymore.

You take a deep breath and enter through the large doors, but are directly approached by a security guard.

"Miss? Are you visiting?", he asks suspiciously, extending his arm to keep you at a distance - something that wouldn't do him much good if you were actually trying to get past him.He eyes you up and down, which you can't blame him for. In your ripped jeans, dirty sneakers, and loose sweater, you don't look like someone who belongs here. By now, you don't either.

You look at him. "I'm here to see Unit Chief Prentiss", you reply coolly. You know he's just doing his job, but you're too impatient to let all this wash over you. You know Emily is already in the office. You know her too well not to. Why doesn't he just go get her? You just want to see your friend.

"Chief Prentiss?" He raises an eyebrow. "And what is your request?"

Your gaze is rock hard and your tone cold as ice. "Tell her Y/N Y/L/N is here to see her."

You wait outside the building, letting the morning sun warm your skin and the cigarette burn between your fingers before you put it to your lips and take a drag. Afterwards, you stub it out on a trash can. As you exhale the last bit of smoke, you turn around. And there she is.

Emily is standing at the door, and when you see her, you drop your bag and wrap her in your arms so tightly that you can't breathe. You cling to her, afraid that maybe this whole thing isn't as real as it feels, but you imperceptibly pinch your arm. And she is still with you.

"I thought - they said", she stammers, and it's the first time in your friendship that she's speechless. You hug her even tighter.

"I know", you answer softly, blinking away the tears that have formed in your eyes. The moment is too beautiful to cry. As you break away from each other, Emily wipes her own tears from her cheeks, but some have already landed on her blouse. There are dark stains now.

"I don't even know what to say", she says, smiling at you as you enter the building together. The guard gives you a look, but doesn't ask any questions as you walk past him toward the elevator. Inside, she pushes a button that takes you to the BAU floor. "I can hardly believe you're really here."

Neither can you.

The office is completely silent because no one is here yet except for you. Although nothing has changed, everything has changed because you are now someone else. It's been a long time since you've been here. Two years, but everything in this room is all too familiar to you. The coffee machine, the law books, the files. It feels like you've never been away. It's déjà vu all over again.

While Emily gets you both coffee, you sit down at the round table and wait for her. Your friend sets the cups down on the table before sitting down next to you. She smiles faintly. "How are you?"

You pucker your mouth. How are you? You haven't been asked that question in ages, and to be honest, you don't know how to answer it either. How could you possibly be?

When you don't answer Emily, she phrases her question differently. "What are you feeling right now?"

Your lips become a thin line. "I don't know. It feels like all of this," you point to the room, "isn't a part of me anymore. Nothing has changed, but it still feels foreign."

Emily nods. "You've been through a lot, I guess." She takes a sip of her coffee. "You're right, Y/N. Nothing has really changed here. But you're a different one now, aren't you?"

You open your mouth to answer her, but you don't know what either. Part of you feels at home here, but a bigger part of you knows your place is somewhere else. You just don't know where exactly.

"Do you want to see the others?", Emily asks. "I'm asking you because it's been a long time since you've seen them. And they think you're...you know. Are you ready for that?"

Are you ready for that? You haven't seen either of them in a long time, and it would probably be better not to see them for now, but to let Emily sort it out first. But the team is your family - the closest thing you have to a family. And you've missed them all terribly.

You nod and take a sip of your coffee as JJ and Rossi enter the room. When they see you, they glance uncertainly at Emily, as if they're not sure if it's just imagination, but she nods at them. And that's when all the dams break for JJ.

She pulls you from your chair and hugs you like the salvation of the world depends on it, and David has to pry her cramped arms from you so he can put his around you as well. They affirm to you how much they missed you and ask how you are, wanting to know what happened, but Tara and Penelope join them and that's when it gets too loud for you.

Penelope cries with joy and Tara also can't believe that you are standing in front of her. They besiege you and ask you questions to which you have no answers, so you just smile weakly at them. They definitely don't mean any harm, after all, you've just risen from the dead for them, but you've spent the last while in silence and are no longer used to this volume. So you turn away from them. They look anxiously after you as you sort of flee from them. You hope that this will make the headache go away.

Without paying much attention to where you're going, you find yourself facing the wall where the pictures of the deceased agents hang. And yours is hanging there, too. You don't know how long you've been standing in front of it - minutes? hours? -until a familiar voice snaps you out of your thoughts.

"Y/N?"

You turn around and there stands Spencer. His hair is a little shorter and he looks like he's seen a ghost. Well, he sort of has.

You want to throw yourself into his arms, kiss him, and never let him go. Seeing him knocks the air out of your lungs, which is why you can barely breathe. The two years without him had been hell on earth, but you got through them. For him.

For Spencer, who doesn't take his eyes off you as the blonde woman next to him, whose fingers are intertwined with his, looks at him and asks, "Honey, who's that?"

- tags -

@obsssedwithjustaboutanything // @ashwarren32 // @slytherinbth // @rexorangecouny // @candlemouse // @lexymoniqu // @m3sml // @username2002 // @calliecookie // @haylaansmi // @thehuntresswolf // @skyslowalking // @padsfirewhisky // @criminalminds4days // @criminallyoddsocks // @takeyourleap-of-faith // @vladsgirlxx // @justdianaz // @x2moonlight2x-blog // @countingthestarsinfinitely // @box-of-fandom-stuff // @sergeantbuckybarnes // @princesssmooshie // @sassiest-politician // @ littledm2000 // @a-broken-pact // @strawberry-tea // @sassy-hades // @danrad-rdj4ever // @takeyourleap-of-faith // @smell-my-twisted-shadows // @poeticsassandtrash // @wintrrrsoldier // @peaceluvnirvana // @jemimah-b99 // @lokislilslut // @advicefromnixxxx // @panicattheeverywherekid // @my-guilty-pleasures--of-life // @itsdars @pjmjams // @imagine-this-motherfucker // @sasbb23 // @fivedicksinatrenchcoat // @missyoumaybank // @blameitonthenight21 // @s-r-16 // @knee-coall // @hamlewis // @twodirtymindedgirls // @peoplejustcanthandlemywierdness // @imdefinitelyfloating // @crazyloca06 // @gardenroses1 // @saspencereid // @enchantedlove90 // @sizzlingclamturtlesludge // @moondustmemories // @bambi-is-my-name // @beg0neth0t420 // @william-shookespeare // @pancake2603 // @ayo-cowbelly // @herbstmelody // @frnks-stuff // @mimischaos // @lilxnvm // @archiveofadragon // @burnin-passion // @oddobsessionbutotay // @chaoticdreamsss // @ghostly-ginger // @knittingstudyblr // @gorbagreb // @biafbunny // @ayo-cowbelly // @ellyseveronica // @saspencereid // @takethee // @ethereal-stark // @shirayuki1204 // @spencerreidspp // @jesuswasnotawhiteman // @stinkykay // @exzidss // @ifuckinghatepinapples // @youhaveabadconnection // @kaseyjohnson04 // @vampiracontessa // @princesssmooshie // @gardenroses1 // @r0s3mm // @willyoulovemeinthemorning // @rrtxcmt // @softpeteparker // @littleiswhattheycallme // @hoeyadoingbitch // @emmariexx // @oops-all-ajs / @reidemandweep // @oliwisstephhh // @g0lden-cth // @measure-in-pain // @amesandpineapples // @spencerreidat3am //

[givemethatgold]

Fix’er Upper - Pt 15

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Talk of past abusive relationship, swearing

Length: 1.2k

Notes: Rollin’ rollin’ rollin’, keep the story rollin’. More plot, lack of smut, surprise guests, it’s all coming together now I promise. Since tags don’t work for me, like AT ALL, I’m going to attempt a posting schedule! Which is laughable if you know how I story-board. Every Tuesday night at 7pm MDT

Series Masterlist

You needed to get laid.

No, not just laid. You needed to get fucking dicked down. 

You needed it so hard and rough that you couldn't walk the next day. 

It had been seven weeks. Seven weeks without an orgasm.

Sure, you'd tried to get off on your own fingers but after the delicious stretch from manual-labour-thickened digits how could yours ever compare? You had gone so far as to order a vibrator, something you’d never even consider for fear of getting caught, but your body always stalled out just on the cusp of an orgasm. 

You needed Frankie and you were going to get him,

Date night was back on the table, and hopefully, you'd be getting railed on said table before the end of the night. Frankie had been very reserved when you'd brought up the idea of a sleepover for Annie, but once Jacquie had assured him for the fifth time that she knew how to take care of children, seeing as she had four of them herself, he had agreed.

The scheduled day had arrived, legs were shaved, an amazing meal was cooked, and a sweet little babydoll dress was purchased that you knew would drive him crazy. You even went the extra mile and set up your old record player and had Johnny Cash crooning at you from the living room.

Finishing the final touches, you surveyed the table setting, trying to decide between using your nice plates to complete the aesthetic or just putting down plastic so you could sweep the table clear and mount your boyfriend on it without fear of broken ceramic. 

Finally deciding on the first option, presentation is everything after all, you were digging through your china cabinet when the doorbell rang. How formal of him, you thought to yourself, glad he was playing along with the unspoken mood you'd set for the night.

Opening the door, your gaze widened a comical amount and your jaw went slack. There was nothing in the world that could have prepared you for this.

"Close your mouth dear, before the flies get in."

"MOM?!"

It really shouldn't have shocked you, knowing the woman as well as you did, that she would show up unannounced like this. Ever since you'd let it slip that you and Frankie were in a relationship she'd been dropping hints that a visit was due, and you, not wanting to deal with her, had been blatantly changing the subject every time.

Then, Frankie had to go and tell her that an adorable little girl was now involved? That's not something she could ever resist, even if it wasn't exactly being offered to her.

Finally coming to terms with the fact that you weren't going to get railed tonight, and instead would be spending your week fending off your mother's well-meaning but entirely outdated advice, you opened the door wider and welcomed her into your home.

"Where's Dad?" You ask, glancing behind her onto the porch, noting a distinct lack of other vehicles. "Did you get a cab here?!"

"Sweetie, honestly, you know I don't like to drive and he doesn’t like to leave home," came her answer from your dining room where she was already adjusting your place settings to her standards. "Besides I wasn't sure how long you'd need me here for so I decided to fly and will just borrow your truck if need be."

So matter-of-fact, as if it was the simplest notion in the world, and said with such nonchalance, your mouth was back to hanging open again from the sheer audacity of the woman.

"Mom, no, wait, what?" You were floundering, completely at a loss for words. "Why would I need you here right now? I needed you when I was young, dumb, and blindly in love with Brad. I needed your guidance and concern when I was being manipulated-"

"Oh come on-" she tried to interrupt you with a wave of her hand.

"No! You keep trying to tell me he wasn't that bad but you weren't there. You didn't hear how he talked to me, how he treated me." You were over your shock, residual hurt and betrayal were now rearing their ugly heads. "Don't you shake your head at me! How dare you chose his side over mine! I was your daughter, your little girl," the words were getting stuck in your throat now, burning so hot with emotion you could almost see the pain they were inflicting as they landed on her ears. "and you chose to ignore the signs, the cries for help. You were only there for me when he died, but even then it was just to send your regards!"

"We really didn't know..." she answered in a small voice, so quiet it barely registered through the roaring in your ears.

"Denial, maybe? I don't think we could bear the thought of anything but a fairytale being true, so we willfully ignored the signs." She waited for a beat, probably giving you time to yell back at her but when you stayed silent she continued, "I don't think it truly sank in just how badly you'd been treated until you moved away. We thought quitting college was you just deciding you wanted to start a family. Then when you stopped calling friends and family, we hoped it was because you were making new ones. Then your weight loss and depression we blamed on infertility, and then again from the grief of his death." Lifting your head up and wiping away the tears that had streaked your cheeks, she smiled sadly at you while tears fell from her own eyes. "I'll never forgive myself."

"How could you not?" You sobbed, letting yourself sink onto a dining room chair.

Your mom tentatively made her way over to you, wrapping her arms around your shoulders and hugging your head to her stomach.

"Oh, Mom," you couldn't finish the sentiment, but you didn't need to. Springing up, you enveloped each other in a tight hug and rocked back and forth until the tears dried and your breathing was almost back to normal, save for the occasional hitch and sniffle.

Breaking apart, you were just about to ask if she wanted some tea when the front door flew open.

"Where's my pretty pus- oh! Oh."

"Frankie," you said calmly while your eyes screamed ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME at him, "this is my mother."

"So this is the handsome face behind that gruff voice!" God bless Margot and her ability to ignore the obvious, sometimes it actually came in handy. "And I suppose he's the second place setting for a lovely night I seem to have interrupted."

"Oh, no, Mom it's okay-"

"Nonsense! I'll check myself into the sweet little bed and breakfast I've booked for the week and see you both tomorrow!"

"It is nice to see you, Mom," you admitted, finding yourself meaning the words more than you expected to. "I'll meet you in town tomorrow and show you around?" Maybe having her here for a while would be nice, if the week went as well as tonight had, your relationship with her would be salvaged.

"You really don't need to do that, you just got here!" Frankie tried to reassure her, having noticed the red, swollen, tear-streaked faces and assuming there was unfinished conversation to be had.

You knew your mom was immovable once she had made up her mind, however, so you just followed her to the door and handed her her coat and your truck keys.

"Marvelous!" She pats your hand in thanks before a sly smile quirks her mouth up to the side and she winks, "Have a good night, Pretty Pussy!"

Part Sixteen

[fakeikemen]

Katara's Grief

(This is my first attempt at a meta post and I know that this has probably been already done but I just needed to get it off my chest and go on a little rant and it kinda got long so bear with me.)

A lot of the hate on Katara stems from the fact that she keeps on mentioning her mother's death at every chance she gets and invalidates other people's pain to assert that her suffering is the worst of the lot.

And even though everybody is entitled to their own opinions, I'm gonna point out why I think the aforesaid claims are not exactly correct.

First we'll take a look at; Katara's Backstory:

We know that Kya is killed in a fire nation raid and that Katara had been the last person to see her alive before she leaves the tent on her mother's insistence. Only to come back a few moments later and find her dead body. This, in itself is a traumatising event.

So yes, her mother died. Other people in the story go through far worse. You're not wrong when you say that.

But what is more important in Katara's story is the aftermath of her mother's death.

As Sokka says while talking to Toph in "The Runaway" in B3 Ep7:

Sokka: When our mom died, that was the hardest time in my life. Our family was a mess, but Katara? She had so much strength. She stepped up and took on so much responsibility. She helped fill the void that was left by our mom.

As an eight year old, she had to force herself to grow up to step into her mother's shoes and raise herself and her elder brother and simultaneously look after the entire village after her father left to fight in the war. She had to do all of it by herself.

In face of all her responsibilities, she never really had the chance to simply be a grieving child lamenting the loss of her mother. She habituated herself to caring more about others than herself (We see this trait in the entire series as she acts as the stand-in mom friend for the entire Gaang with an exception of Suki and Zuko). She ended up bottling her feelings of grief, resentment, guilt and rage deep within herself.

She had to give up an extensive part of her childhood where most children focus on figuring themselves out, to become a mature and responsible person who was working as the immovable pillar holding up the family and even the whole village not much later.

She put up a strong front to help others and pretended to be fine even though she was hurting inside the whole time.

She could never find any closure from the situation. She never got over it.

Moving on to the criticisms:

1. Katara keeps on mentioning her mother like a broken record:

Here are the number of times Katara mentions her mother's death (not sure if that's all of it, lmk if there are any others):

1. In her first scene with Sokka

Katara: Ever since mom died, I've been doing all the work around camp while you've been off playing soldier!

2. A short while after she meets Aang

Katara: Well, I just want you to be prepared for what you might see. The Fire Nation is ruthless. They killed my mother, and they could have done the same to your people.

3. A short while after she meets Haru

Katara: I lost my mother in a Fire Nation raid. This necklace is all I have left of her.

4. A short while after she meets Jet

Katara: Sokka and I lost our mother to the Fire Nation.

5. In the swamp after she sees a vision of her mother

Katara: I thought I saw Mom.

6. In the Crystal Catacombs with Zuko

Katara: I don't? How dare you! You have no idea what this war has put me through! Me personally! The Fire Nation took my mother away from me.

7. A short while after she meets Hama

Katara: We completely understand. We lost our mother in a raid.

8. Repeated mentions in The Southern Raiders episode

(Most of the episode basically)

The first mention with Sokka is in the middle of a siblings' spat where she tells off Sokka for trying to act as if he were superior when it was obvious that in the face of the gaping hole that was left by Kya's sudden death, Katara had shouldered much more responsibility.

When she tells it to Aang, she uses it as a proof that the Fire Nation is capable of immense cruelty and destruction.

The Gaang travel all around the world and meet different people affected by the war in different ways. So when Haru, Jet and Hama narrate their own stories, Katara sympathises with them and talks about Kya's death in lieu of "I understand, the Fire Nation hurt me too."

After they got separated, Aang, Sokka and Katara each had their visions and after they get back together, they all mention their visions and so does Katara.

When left alone in catacombs with Zuko, whom she considered as the face of the Fire Nation— the same Fire Nation that had her mother killed and forced her father to leave to fight in the war, she has a meltdown where she rightfully accuses him of all the bad things he's done and then breaks down while talking about how the war has cost her i.e., by causing her mother's death.

The Southern Raiders is the episode where Katara hunts down the man responsible for her mother's death. If you think mentioning Kya repeatedly in this episode is uncalled for, then I don't know what to tell you.

In all the incidents mentioned above, Katara mentioning her mother's death is a very natural occurrence is the respective conversations. She mostly talks about Kya's death to either extend her sympathy or to use it as an example of the ruthlessness of the Fire Nation.

Another fact to be noted is that 70% of the Gaang's storyline is followed via Katara from a narrative point of view. Plus, being the mom-friend, she acts as the spokesperson. Considering that Kya's death is a major event that played a huge role in shaping Katara's life and is also the source of her severe, unresolved trauma, which acts as the driving force of her story, it is only natural that she brings up this topic whenever she is engaging in a deeper conversation.

It is us as the viewers who have seen her from the start and already know about her mother's death and we see her talking to multiple people about it. Which is why it might come across as repetitive to some people.

While, Kya's death is not necessary information that everyone needs to know, Katara talking about it never comes across as a forced or unnatural.

2. Katara invalidates others' pain because she thinks she has suffered the most:

First of all, if anything, Katara is the most empathetic person of them all. As the mom-friend of the group, not only is she their constant moral support, she also helps them untangle and sort out their own feelings. She is also able to tap into issues that aren't said out loud.

Instances of Katara helping and supporting Aang, emotionally are uncountable.

She is the first one to notice Sokka's sour mood in B3 Ep4 "Sokka's Master". And even though his insecurities seem baseless, she validates him (by saying "I'm sorry you're feeling so down" instead of something like "That's a dumb thing to say") and knows exactly what to do to cheer him up.

In B3 Ep7 "The Runaway" she has the insight to understand that Toph's unruly behaviour is caused by the mixed feelings she has about her parents even though Toph's herself never talked about it.

She even reaches out to Zuko in B2 Ep19 "Crossroads of Destiny" even though she used to think of him as the face of the enemy.

But then there's The Southern Raiders.

Ah yes, that episode where Katara is extremely OOC and a total b*tch.

Agreed that she said some things that she definitely shouldn't have said. But like, she's just 14?? And has been hurting on the inside since she was 8?? And pretended to be fine just for the sake of other people?? Like, there's a limit to how much she can have her shit under control?? And she did a real good job of Sokka's upbringing and taking care of the village and taking care of Gaang on her own?? Some people out there are really willing to forget everything she has ever done just because she was mean for 5 minutes?? A traumatised 14 yo shouldn't be villianised and called toxic because she got mad and lashed out at people that one time??

But here's my take on the scene anyway:

When Aang gets to know that she's going to go face her mother's killer:

Aang: Um ... and what exactly do you think this will accomplish?

Katara: I knew you wouldn't understand. 

Aang is a non-confrontational person who prefers running away from difficult situations as opposed to Katara who firmly stands her ground and is never afraid of confrontations. Katara had approached Aang only hoping that he would understand. But going by his dismissal, he obviously doesn't understand the burning need that she has to confront the man who had single-handedly destroyed her childhood. (Most people infer that what Katara means is that she thinks that Aang doesn't understand the pain of losing people. And so does Aang, I guess)

But things start getting even more tricky when:

Aang: Katara, you sound like Jet.

In all honesty, this is probably the most insensitive thing that she could've heard from anyone right then, let alone one of her closest friends. Hearing herself being compared to a homicidal maniac just because she wants to avenge her mother's killer. (No, I'm not justifying murder but there's a clear difference between homicide and avenging someone's death. And Aang may not be my favourite character but I do love him but this wasn't really a good thing to say either. And he wasn't even mentally distressed in the very least to be completely lacking tact or a filter.)

And then the situation escalates:

Sokka: Katara, she was my mother, too, but I think Aang might be right.

Katara: Then you didn't love her the way I did!

After 6 long years of Katara bottling in her dark feelings and letting them fester inside herself, she is finally letting them out and the first things she faces in a span of few minutes are outright rejection, invalidation of her feelings, comparison to a homicidal maniac and nothing akin to the unconditional support that she has provided to everybody. Her own brother tells her that he is siding with the boy who just compared her to a homicidal maniac.

Yes, accusing your own brother of not loving your mother enough is a very cruel thing to do. But both Sokka and Katara know that she doesn't entirely mean it.

But also, there is one very important factor in here:

In B3 Ep7 "The Runaway", Sokka says to Toph:

Sokka: I'm gonna tell you something crazy. I never told anyone this before, but honestly? I'm not sure I can remember what my mother looked like. It really seems like my whole life, Katara's been the one looking out for me. She's always been the one that's there. And now, when I try to remember my mom, Katara's is the only face I can picture. 

Katara overhears this conversation just as Sokka had meant her to.

This dialogue lets us know that Sokka's coping mechanism has made him suppress all memories of Kya and replace them with memories of Katara in order to attain a semblance of normalcy.

Both Katara and Sokka had very different ways of coping with Kya's death. Katara pressed down her feelings and tried her best to pretend to ignore them while Sokka partially succeeded in forgetting her.

When Katara first hears these words she is shown to be crying. But if she were to remember these very words while she was justifying herself infront of her own brother and a close friend for wanting to avenge her mother, it would've had a negative impact on her.

In her rage, she would've thought: "Of course he doesn't want to avenge mom. Because he doesn't think it's worth it and that's because he doesn't even remember enough of her to be mad about her death."

And for someone who has spent each day of the last 6 years trying to fill in the shoes of her mother and experiencing her absence everyday, the idea of forgetting her mother is a ridiculous concept to her.

Her thoughts would have quickly derailed to: "He didn't love her enough to remember her."

In light of these thoughts, saying "Then you didn't love her the way I did" doesn't feel out of the blue.

No, I am definitely not justifying what she said, I'm just laying out a possible explanation to why she said what she said.

Yes, she should've apologized to Sokka for this and I think that they definitely should've had a long conversation about their mother's death and how it affected them. Between Katara supressing her feelings and Sokka supressing his memories, i don't think they ever had this conversation.

But sadly we are given neither of these scenes.

Tl;dr: Everytime Katara mentions her mother, it's with good reason and I don't think it's fair to call a character toxic when they lack a mind to mouth filter for 5 minutes and say some mean things. And considering all that Katara has done for everybody, it isn't fair at all.

Peace out!

[covertblizzard]

Have you read Phil Jimenez’ Tempest miniseries from the mid 90s? If so, what are your thoughts?

Hello! Okay so, the answer to this at the time you sent this ask is: nope, not yet. But I was intending to find out more about Garth since he is not so commonly referenced here (that I've seen) so I have very little impression of him, and I figured why not treat this as a recommendation!

(Fair warning: I've never really read anything about DC Atlantis before this so I know very little besides what's in the miniseries, a few other Garth-centered issues I just read, some little googling, and a vague outline of the Aquaman movie. I also have some not-so-nice things to say about it so I hope you don't mind haha)

Overall I found the story interesting enough. I think the worldbuilding was pretty fun, it wasn't too confusing understanding his heritage and storyline, and it was fun to think about different kingdoms and civilizations. The Hidden Valley civilization was fascinating and I think the designs were really good (I really liked the artists for this series in general, but the architecture design especially was nice).

I also liked the touch of how they differentiated Poseidon and Neptune (Poseidon, the Greek god, feeling a lot more primordial with his green tinge and the whole archaic man vibe while Neptune, the Roman god, being a lot more ceremonial looking, dressed, and "proper"). Credits to the artists also for this I think, they really bring through the horror and creepiness of Tula not being Tula, especially in Garth's dream. It is overall a pretty standard storylin of the long lost nephew saving the people from the evil usurper uncle (Simba), a little overused, but I suppose the purpose of this storyline was more about his growth and coming to terms with his grief and loss.

Some parts I found especially compelling is the part where Tula regains a bit of her bearing and realises what is happening, and Garth consequently having to kill her himself. I know she was already dead and that she was literally hurting him, but his devastation was truly... something.

The scene where he yelled to his mother "Don't touch me! You abandoned me! You left me to die because of some cryptic vagaries about a magical catastrophe I might have been able to prevent!" was GOOD and the part he tells the Idylists "Just know your non-intervention marks you as killers just as much as if you'd slain all those others yourselves. That's not pacifism, folks, it's cowardice." Amazing, and he's right! I mean I'm not going to go into the whole non-intervention theory of morality or whatever (not that I'm even qualified to hahaha) but it's an interesting idea to bring up.

The destruction of Shayeris landscape because of all the ghostly death architecture was very upsetting to me too. Shayeris was so beautiful, somehow preserved even after the Idylists went hiding, but yet destroyed (at least partly) because of this and I hope they successfully restore it :(

Okay, so to the parts I feel like weren't done as well as they could've been:

Love triangle between Tula and Letifos: Honestly, I just generally dislike love triangles and especially those that pit girls against each other. This is made like only SLIGHTLY better by one of them I suppose literally trying to save his life from the other because of the plotlines but still... not a fan of catfights-type stuff in general (although comics loooooove them)

The concept of being blinded by love: This is always an amazing concept and I love to see explorations of it. BUT I feel like this one discounts a lot of other factors and has him ignoring his friends, his people, his responsibilities from trying to save all undersea people from literally dying, over a girl he knows deep down is not alive and has already betrayed him. It's touching in a way, but also foolish and more importantly, undermines everything else (love for his friends, his people, etc). I think he obviously should still have difficulties tangling with Tula, but I wished the writers had made him at least think about some of these. He barely seems to feel guilt over leading his people to a lot of their deaths, and every second he delays, more of his people are getting killed in a fight it is implied that he knows they cannot win, and yet he seems to have no issues with it. He is also remarkably chill about his mother being alive and the fact that his father has spent years being maligned when he didn't actually go insane. The TULA IS BACK is really too all-consuming for me. (Another issue of his also mentioned how aquaman is the defender of its creature and Garth is destined to be the defender of the undersea's people which makes it even weirder because he should care more about the people)

Withholding information: There is quite a bit if information withdrawal for surprise factor in this story, but a lot of them aren't given reasons. King Thar didn't seem to have told his people why he was building up weapons, even though Slizzath was banished only 20 years ago for dabbling in dark arts and necromancy, it's not like Slizzath is lost memory already. Knowing would bring a different kind of understanding, and even if they didn't want violent approaches, they could have discussed non-violent alternatives, or at least have been more prepared and know what was coming when Slizzath arrived. There seems to be no reason for this withholding of information. I suspect this might be because this is a post re-write (earlier stories seem to have Garth's father being actually mad and him even fearing he might go mad). Honestly, I think the wronged king is an interesting concept, I just wish they gave some in universe reason why he didn't just tell people.

The Pacifist ideology: The Idylists are supposedly some kind of pacifist and against fighting and war and instead choose to build, practice arts, and study sorcery. With that in mind, I just think it's slightly weird that the Idylists solution to every conflict is literal murder. King starting to build weapons, murder king. Baby might have magic powers that can free a scary being, murder baby. They set the Hidden Valley up with such a fascinating idea I wished they fleshed it out more. Why would they choose the option of murder king when there are other alternatives including banishment, prison, or just somehow magically sealing him away?

Queen Berra's (and the Idylists' by extension) choices: This might be one of the most confusing to me. Suppose abandoning her baby for the greater good somehow fits in the pacifist perspective because they're not actively commiting act of violence (even though it is clearly wrong), why did they never follow up on it after this plan obviously failed? Garth wasn't some random nobody, he was being raised by and worked actively with the King of Atlantis, surely they knew he was alive and should have a backup plan since child murder clearly didn't work. Whether the plan was doubling down (assassination) or alternatives where they fill him in or have some plan to prevent him from every finding out or just setting up a teamed force to prepare for Slizzath's recapture after the release when Garth taps into his ancestral powers, there SHOULD be some plan. It's been 20 years at this point, the scholars of the undersea didn't bother to think up of any new options besides adding the stabbing part so nobody dares to try and wait to see what happens? They're supposed to be pacifists, not stupid. Later, a part of the Idylists, including Berra, choose not to fight, but then abruptly change their minds mid-fight to join which is also confusing. I suppose the implication could be the Tempest's speech got to them, but it wasn't really made clear and seemed vaguely flippy-floppy instead.

Slizzath's Motivation: This one is very minor haha, but I also wonder what he wanted to do with everyone literally dead and nothing but puppets for his control.

Overall, I do think the story was a good setup though, and I wish different thing about Garth had been explored more, like

His initial fear of going insane (before he found out the truth about his father and especially after Tula's death)

His magic being intrinsically linked to his anger and confusion, becoming more powerful when he is angry and confused which implies some emotional use of power (mentioned here and also in a Teen Titans Spotlight issue)

His complicated relationship with his mom Queen Berra. She abandoned him at birth, but at least in this story, she did return at a time of need.

His feelings over his father. Previously, he thought his father had gone mad and that's part of the reason all these happened. He might have had some resentment towards his father, but now that he knows the truth, how does he reconcile that.

His exploration of other undersea people. This is not directly related to this storyline, but Atlan says that Garth is destined to be a defender of the undersea's people, so it would be fun to watch him learn about them (eg. Letifos, other Atlantean kingdom). Atlantis is a sunken ancient Greek kingdom, but it might be fun to also bring in other cultures.

His reconnection with his homeland's culture. I think he was raised by Atlan and Orin, with little to no connection to Shayeris or the Idylists. It would be interesting to watch him explore the pacifist lifestyle and choices, maybe have debates and push for changes that are necessary or even make some changes himself, becoming some sort of half-pacifist defender.

His potential leadership both Shayeris and the complications.

Also, just some observation, but DC really likes the revive your dead to fight you thing (Blackest Night is another one isn't it, and of course Blackest Night also has Tula). Reading this also made me realised... Tula was basically a fridged victim prior to the term fridging.

Anyway, in conclusion, the Titans should nickname him Sea Simba sometimes.

[feyti-odinsdottir]

Sit with me

by F.L.H.

Sit with me

Please

I don't want to be alone

The world is so big

And my life looks so long

Stretching out ahead of me

Spanning hours

And years

And heartbreaks

And moves

It spans broken relationships

But so many new ones

It holds thousands of laughs

And thousands of tears

A million moments

And a billion thoughts

So much life

That I have yet to live

And yet I don't know what it holds

Don't know what comes next

Sit with me

Please

I feel like I'm downing

Under waves of pain

Every day is a new hurt

A new loss

A new cut

Every day is a wave of guilt

A wave of shame

A wave of regret

A wave of loneliness

And even the cuts don't seem to help

The pain comes back just the same

Sit with me

Please

I don't want to be alone

Please feel my pain

That tugging ache

That sits in my chest

Until I feel like there's

Nothing left

Sit with me

Please

I don't want to shut you out

That gnawing pain

That lived in my chest

Was nothing but aching fear of neglect

Fear of my failure

And what I had done

Fear of your face

Cast down in neglect

Wishing I'd been better

Than what I've become

Come sit with me

Please

I'm sick of these lies

Suffocating me

Under the tide

Sit with me

Please

Just feel my pain

Cry my tears

Sit with me

When I don't think that I can stand

I was so scared

But now I know

No invite was needed

You were here all along

You've sat beside me

Through so many tears

All of the pain that I've felt

Through the years

When I thought I would drown

When I thought the waves would sweep me off

Without a sound

When I thought I was alone

And the grief I bore

Was too much to bear

You bore it too

All of my pain

You carried the weight

You held back the waves

Sit with me

Please

That's all I need

- just little bits of poetry

(Dear God, im scared)

[kuroshitsuji-scenarios]

Hi ! I was wondering if I could get some comfort headcanons with Sebastian and his s/o who is having a heavy off day due to pent up negative emotions finally overboiling? Their brain is just kicking their butt and all they wanna do is lay in bed :(

I've been grieving an ex who died over 3 years ago and it finally hit me hard that they were actually gone.

I’m deeply sorry for your loss, I can’t even imagine what you must be going through but I hope those headcanons will brighten you up at least a little bit.

Sebastian:

Through the centuries, Sebastian learned about the impact a death of the closest one can have upon people. Unfamiliar with the grieve himself, he could only observe and wonder how must it feel to experience such a thing. It was unbelievable for him, the lack of compassion toward humans making it impossible to wholly empathize during such times—that is, until he met you.

You quickly grew such an important part of his life that he could not imagine it without you anymore. So precious and dear to him, he wanted to protect you from every bad thing that could possibly happen to you. And to be honest, there was plenty of them, various accidents and people with bad intentions could be seen behind every corner. He vowed to keep an eye on you at all times, making sure that you were safe by his side.

However, there were things he could not prevent. The ghosts of the past and emotions he did not really undertand. Sebastian could only watch them devour you and for the first time since he could remember, he felt the pity squeeze his stomach, followed by the growing upset. He could fight every single one of your enemies, he could beat those who did you wrong, he could even kill them, he was capable of getting you out of even the most dangerous situations—but this? How could he fight the foe he could not see, nor touch, nor feel?

One could call it heartbreaking and if Sebastian was ever close to experiecing this kind of emotions, seeing you in this state was definitely the moment. He felt helpless and hopeless and, surprisingly, useless. But it did not mean that he was going to simply sit and stare, no! He might not be the greatest support in this situation but he was still willing to do his best to help you get through it. The only thing which never changes is that everything eventually changes, after all, and so had your mood.

He wouldn’t insist on you getting out of bed at first, allowing you to rest and taking care of all your duties. Your apartment would be clean, clothes washed and ironed, dinner prepared and your favourite snacks in the kitchen drawer. He would do all of it with a reassuring smile on the lips to show you that it is no bother for him and he actually likes being busy. You, on the other hand, should rest and take a break from the real world. Perhaps would you like to watch a movie? Read a book? Play a game? Do you want to talk or prefer to be left alone? He would act accordingly.

After some time (few days or a week, depending on your mood), Sebastian would eventually insist on you getting out of bed and doing something. Anything. He would help you pick the outfit and offer to help you get dressed if needed, explaining that the appearance is an important aspect of living and once you look good you will start feeling better. Get up, put the clothes on, do your hair and/or makeup for he’s taking you out on a date. And boi, will he spend a lot of time on looking for a perfect place...

Sebastian wouldn’t take you just to some fancy restaurant, not at first at least. He would decide to either go to the aquarium, amusement park, cinema or zoo. He might also offer to take you for a journey to Hawaii. It would be important to keep you busy and to show you that no matter what you feel inside, the world is still wonderful out there, waiting for you and inviting. As harsh as it sounds, the life still goes on and he wouldn’t want you to stay left behind due to the grief. Moreover, he would want to make you feel more involved, asking you about some things he was still not familiar with or did not understand, bringing your focus to him of course and reminding you that you’re important and needed here.

He adored you so much, he could not bear the thought of you being sad for too long. He would do everything in his will to make your wishes come true, however ridiculous they might be. You were his spark of light and he was going to make sure that you will shine brightly for as long as possible, safe in his hands.