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mymelodyheart · 4 years ago

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Miles Between Us Chapter 8 ~Light vs Dark~

Previously in All in a Day's Work ...

A voice raced through her consciousness, telling her this was the way forward. She knew he needed his control back before he would be able to speak to her. So she got down on her knees and pulled his pants down.

When he wrapped her hair in his fist and tilted her head back, she smiled. "Now, let's get dirty and exorcise those pesky brain chatter, shall we?" Before he could reply, she took him full in her mouth and worshipped him with her love, absorbing every frustrated growl that ripped from his throat and every emotion that poured out of him with every roll of his hips.

She pushed him to the edge and over until he found his release, and his loud cries echoed in the air. When he shattered around her, his body slumped onto the floor and into her arms.

Claire knew they had a long night ahead of them, so she cradled him, waiting patiently for his breathing to calm. Later after she bathed him, they would talk, but for now, she was contented just to hold him a little while longer, as she wondered how many of Jamie's demons she would have to slay tonight and if love would be enough to conquer his hell.

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Jamie reached over to the other side of the bed and stilled when all he grabbed was air. His eyes instantly flew open, and he wondered why he was in bed. He jackknifed into a sitting position, his muscles tensing against the sudden alarm that spiked through his nerves, but when he saw the sliver of light under the door and heard Claire's movement in the bathroom, he eased back onto the mattress with a sigh.

Memories from earlier suddenly came rushing back to him. He'd arrived home, reeling with the need to expend energy, but not in the healthiest of ways. He'd ran from work after Willie had sent him home, and when he'd arrived to find Claire in the kitchen, the rush of adrenaline had buzzed through him like mad. Though he'd made up with his sister after their confrontation, the run to the cottage hadn't relieved the buildup of anxiety and guilt, but one thing had been clear throughout ...the need to see Claire had been paramount. She'd sensed something was off, but he hadn't anticipated her reading what he'd needed at that moment when he'd himself had no words for the volatile sensation raging within him. Ever since she'd arrived in his life, she'd been unintentionally rearranging everything, and all the painstaking layers he'd patched together over his broken parts were slowly being stripped away, little by little, to reveal what he'd buried underneath.

Earlier, she'd ripped another layer off when she'd offered her body for his own release. Despite rebelling against it, his body had a mind of its own, taking his fill like a starved man and pacifying the storm within. It had troubled him to see her pleasuring him on her knees and not had been able to reciprocate back, but she'd soothed him with words and her hands. He recalled the shame and fear that had shot through his bloodstream when he thought he'd hurt her with his rough play, but the moment she'd touched him, he'd lost track of everything, the mind-bending pleasure obscuring all reasons, making him feel depleted and whole at the same time. After she'd bathed him as if he was a bairn, she'd towelled his body dry and massaged his back until his limbs had gone pliant and heavy. And just before he'd dozed off, she'd whispered into his ears, "Rest now, my love and later we'll talk." He couldn't argue, even if he'd wanted to. Because, in her, he found his equilibrium, and his skeletons didn't rattle as much whenever she was around.

He'd just switched on the bedside lamp when the bathroom door opened, and Claire walked in wearing his bathrobe, the sheer size of it almost drowning her small frame. He couldn't help the smile forming his lips. It looked ridiculously too big on her but at the same time too adorable for words. He pushed himself up and patted the space next to him.

Watching her climbed the bed and crawl on all fours, he extended his arm out in an invitation to nestle against him. "How long was I out?" he asked.

"An hour tops," she replied, kissing him on the lips. Instead of huddling into his arms, she sat cross-legged, facing him, a touch of worry dimming her eyes. "You were knocked out."

"Really? Only an hour? I had no intention of falling asleep. I must have been tired. I feel like I've slept the whole night." Feeling slightly disappointed he couldn't put his arms around her, he took her hand instead and twined their fingers together.

"Willie dropped off your car, and I have your keys here," she said, pulling them from the pocket of the bathrobe and placing them on the mattress. "How are you feeling?

"Relaxed."

"That's good," she whispered, squeezing his hand.

His thumb brushed the inside of her wrist. "What ye did earlier ..." He felt a stirring in his loins when he remembered her mouth around him. "I would like to verra much do the same for ye if ye'd allow me."

"Jamie ..." she sighed, giving him a small warning look.

He shrugged, his mischievous smile telling her, Oh well! I tried. They eyed each other for a few heartbeats, a silent understanding passing between them. Jamie knew she was patiently waiting for him to initiate the talk. There was no way around it. Not even sex was going to get in the way. It had been a long time coming, and he owed her some explanations. "So ye want to talk ..."

"Would you like to have your dinner first? You haven't eaten yet."

"No, I'm good."

"Good. Let me know if you need anything."

"Aye ..." He moved into a more comfortable position. "Let's get this done and over with."

She gave him an encouraging nod. "Take your time. Whenever you're ready."

"Just a wee warning, Sassenach." He winked at her when he noticed her frown. "If this starts to feel like a therapist appointment, bear in mind I've noted all the available exits," he joked to lighten the mood.

It worked. The corner of her lips twitched. "I'll try my utmost best to keep that in mind."

He settled against the headboard and took a couple of cleansing breaths. It cleared his head a wee bit, allowing him to formulate the right words. Words that wouldn't sound like he was losing his mind. "Guilt," he began. "I told ye already before ...I have a bad case of it." His throat closed up. "It's what keeps me awake most nights, replaying all those things I didnae do right. As most insomniacs would know, nothing solves sleeplessness like a nice warm glass of despair and regret."

A flicker of worry flashed across her face. "Jamie, you told me you were feeling better." She scooted closer to him. "Have you been keeping the truth from me? Because if you are, it's not helping matters."

"No, Sassenach." He shooked his head. "I was telling ye the truth. I was feeling better, but there have been many strange things happening in the past that's just coming to light. The more I try to piece things together, the weirder it gets." He massaged his temple with his fingers. "Christ! Where do I begin?"

"Alright, one thing at a time." She paused, and he saw the cogs behind her eyes, turning. She appeared to be contemplating the best way to make it easy for him. "Did something happened at work earlier?" she asked.

He sighed. "Aye. I blew my top at work. It's unlike me to lose my head like that, especially in front of the other workers. It's kind of frightening when your emotions are beyond your control."

"Did it have anything to do with your episodes?"

"Probably. I'm not sure anymore."

"When you came home earlier, you really looked stressed, Jamie."

He stared at her and thought of the events that day. Ah, shite! Why is this so fucking difficult? They're only in the early phases of their relationship, and already she's tangled up in his web of messed-up issues. Surely this wasn't what she'd bargained for when she decided to take a chance on him? She only had a few days before she returned back to London, but here they were, it's early evening, cooped up in his bedroom trying to sort out his fucked-up head when they could be out on romantic dates. No one, except for his family, had really seen the true depths of his issues, and he'd coped fine for a long time without talking about it. Man up, Fraser - get to the bottom of it! Think of Harry!

"My sister and I had a fight," he finally said. "But I dinnae think the fight triggered anything. Or maybe a little. Ye see, it's no' the first time we've had a squabble like that. I think the beginning of the episode has more to do with something that has been building up for the last few days. Odd dreams, memories coming to the surface and such. And the sibling bicker was the last straw."

"What do you mean?" she asked. "Has this something to do with your dream the other night? You told me you had a strange dream and you had trouble sleeping."

His heart lurched as he recalled the dream. "Aye. But it goes way before that. Partly, it has something to do with that ..." He hesitated for a moment. "...and with ye."

"With me?" She visibly braced herself, a worried frown appearing on her brows. "Jamie ...if you're concerned about me not being able to cope with your condition and leaving you, you thought wrong. I care for you, and I want to help. But I can't help you if I don't understand what's going on. Whatever you're going through, we'll face it together."

He felt encouraged by the hopeful look she gave him. "But ye dinnae ken half of it."

"No, I don't," she agreed. "But we'll get through it together. Painful as it is to talk about what's hurting you, suppressing it will only make it worse, and there's a danger you could lose yourself and forget the person you are and all the good you have done in the process. If you're waiting for time to erase all those emotional pain, it's not going to happen, Jamie. I know this because I carry a lot of pain, too, and time has done nought to erase it. You just have to acknowledge it and learn to let it go."

His heart pounded. "This can open up all sorts of hurt, Sassenach ...for ye."

She studied him closely. "Why are you so worried about me getting hurt, Jamie? Ye're the one suffering from this condition."

His gaze lifted to meet hers, and a throbbing began underneath his collarbone. He wondered how much he could reveal about her parents' death without him disintegrating in front of her and scaring her away for good. This is the part where the room would normally close in on him, and then he would start to fidget and eventually clamp up. An uncomfortable pressure stretched against his rib cage, making it difficult to suck in a breath. They were already at the point of no return. But Claire's eyes instantly grounded him, turning the chaos in his head from a bright, blazing red to a cool, soothing blue.

He swallowed his mounting anxiety, focusing on healing what had been damaged inside of him. "Before anything else, Sassenach ...what do ye remember about yer parents' death?"

"Wot?" Her voice sounded throaty. "Why is it relevant?"

He loathed the sudden uncertainty sneaking into her expression. He wished he could go back and take back the words. "I'm sorry, but it's pertinent that I know."

She let go of his hand and rubbed her palms repeatedly along her thighs. "I -I was with my parents when the accident happened. I never told you this part before."

The image of young Claire trapped at the back seat of the car flared to life. His head fell forward with a groan, and when she touched his shoulder, he waved a hand and motioned for her to go on.

"I don't remember much except for the feeling of being very frightened and wanting to be with my mother. After that, everything was a blur."

"Have ye ever talked to your uncle about it?"

"Sort of," she said, scrunching up her shoulders. "When I was old enough to understand. But never in-depth." She stopped and eyed him suspiciously. "Jamie, what's with the questions about my parents? Are you trying to change the direction of this conversation?"

"No! No' at all!" He shifted position and squeezed his eyes shut for a beat. When he opened them again, he puffed out a breath. "Your parents ...the car ...I was there when it happened." She looked bewildered, but he didn't stop. "I was on my way to see my godfather. I-I was ten. And I had this ..."

"What do you mean you were there?"

Oh, God, give me strength. "I saw yer parents' accident," he said rapidly. She gasped and cupped a hand over her mouth. Shaking his head, he continued. "I ...I always thought my condition began right after my best mate died in the war zone. But it was way before that. I saw something that a child should never have to see, but I did. I would have told ye all these sooner if I had known. The dream ...I had the other night brought back all those horrific memories. Christ, Sassenach ..." He dropped his head into his hands. "I wish there's an easier way to say this. I'm so sorry for bringing this up, and I just cannae ..."

"Jamie ..."

Then the dam shattered, and everything came pouring out of him. He told her how Harry had first appeared into his life, coming to his aid in Glasgow when he'd fallen down onto his knees while going through an episode. And the mysterious ways the older man would pop up whenever he was in dire need of help. He spoke of his suspicions of what or who he'd thought Harry might have been after his family had questioned his friend's identity over New Year's Eve lunch at Lallybroch. And how his theory had been further validated the moment Murtagh had mentioned having known Claire's parents. Then his voice faltered when he told her what his godfather had told him the other day, about him being witness to her parents' accident as a young boy. And how seeing uncle Lamb's similarity to Harry had triggered the dream and brought back all the suppressed memories. He told her how he'd held her that fateful day and how the memories of that event changed him forever, vowing to himself nothing like that would ever happen again under his watch.

By the time Jamie finished, he felt weightless. Like he'd been lugging around sandbags on his shoulders all his life, and they'd just been ripped open, dumping their contents onto the ground.

When he finally glanced up, Claire was immobile, staring at the wall behind him. The unfocused expression he'd seen the other night when he'd asked about her parents was back, only this time she appeared more thoughtful.

"Sassenach?"

Her gaze cut to his. "So you knew my dad."

"I did." She must have sensed his sincerity because she closed her eyes and her lips quivered a bit as if she's trying her hardest to keep her emotions in check. Christ, he wanted to drag her away from all the pain he'd just brought up. He didn't like seeing her like this. He'd told her more than he'd been prepared to, and they should call it a wrap for now. But he needed to know if there were any mental scars she'd been nursing and if so, he wondered if he'd made it worse. If he did, he'd never forgive himself. "Sassenach, please tell me ye're alright."

Her gaze lifted to meet his, and she hugged herself close. "I think so," she whispered. "Just give me a few minutes to let it all sink in, alright? Don't give up on me just yet." They simultaneously took a deep breath, making her smile at the realisation. He resisted the urge to pull her onto his lap and focused on what she had to say. He'd already said his bit, and now it was her turn. So he listened. "That moment at the pub, when I first laid eyes on you, I had this strong feeling we've always known each other. I even said to myself, maybe we did ...in another lifetime. All this while we had no idea we were both connected through my dad."

"Aye, I felt the same way, Sassenach, and I put it down simply to a strong attraction between us. I even thought it would pass, but the more I got to know ye, the more I wanted more of ye. It frightened the hell of me, firstly because of where ye live. I didnae think our relationship could work with my condition. And secondly, because I didnae want my burden to be yer burden. It would kill me if ye had to go through what I've been going through almost all my life."

She seemed transfixed as she made a move towards him, reminding him of the way she'd looked just before they're about to make love. Pressure rolled off him the moment she straddled his lap, leaving him almost light-headed when she tenderly placed a hand against the side of his face. "Do you realise what an extraordinary man you are?" She tunnelled her fingers through his hair, making his eyelids fall to half-mast. "You see, Jamie ...only good men feel the load of their burdens. And exceptional ones like you persist on taking more. Because of you, I want to be a better person and take some of your burdens. The same way you've carried the burden of my parents' death all this while." She laid her head into the crook of his shoulder, snuggling into his neck in a way that somehow mended a broken part of him. "Growing up without them has been hard, and it still pains me a lot when I think of what could have been. But I realise now, sometimes death has a heart, and we can't beat ourselves up for recognising it." A few heartbeats passed before she met his gaze. "Out of tragedy, we found each other, and that means their death must count for something, don't you think?"

The simplicity of her words, her acceptance of their past, the vulnerable girl he saw underneath the confident woman she was today reached every damaged corner of his being. There was no choice but to press their bodies together.

He pulled her closer and gently combed his fingers through her curls as he brushed his lips against hers. His thumb caressed her cheek before cupping it in his hand. When she smiled, his fingers tugged her chin to bring her mouth back to his. The kiss deepened, his fingers fumbling with the ties of the bathrobe she's wearing before pushing it down over her shoulders. Fluidly, never breaking contact, his lips travelled down her throat, her back arching to offer her breast. He was about to take a nipple to his mouth when he noticed a band of bruise circling her arm. He jerked back and realised there was an identical one on her other arm.

A sick feeling settling in his gut, he touched one of the bruises with his index finger. "What's this?" he asked, even though deep inside, he knew the answer already.

She rubbed it with a hand as if it was nothing. "Jamie, don't worry about it. I have pale skin, and I bruise like a peach."

He ground his teeth and shook his head. "I did this earlier, didn't I? When I came home from work, right after the fight with Jenny."

When she flinched, he felt like a bucket of ice-cold water had been thrown over him. He lifted her off his lap and got out of bed, and went to stand by the window.

"Jamie, it was nothing. We were playing rough, and these things happen."

He could feel the darkness coming back again, trying to shroud him. He needed to concentrate on his breathing. When a woman like Claire loved with such fierceness, surely that love should have enough light to push the dark away. But he was coming down hard and fast, and the sick feeling in his guts was trying to make its way up, making him want to gag.

He heard her approach, and he steeled himself when she wrapped her arms around his middle and laid her head on the centre of his back. "Jamie, you didn't hurt me. You have to believe me."

How could he want Claire's love and feel the unshakable compulsion to run away at the same time? Her arms were circled around him so tight, he thought she might be trying to join them together as one. A huge part of him wanted them joined together, but the darker side of him was scared to death. He'd allowed her to soothe him with every word, every touch. But now it was high time to get rid of the blinders. His chest hurt, and every fear he'd succeeded to overcome throughout the last few days poured down on his head.

Claire shouldn't want the man he'd become, who had a tendency to inflict pain and bruises on her skin when under the influence of his episodes even if it wasn't intended. He thought of Jenny earlier and the frightened look on her face, his fists curled, ready to cause injury. This relationship with Claire would be over as soon as she realised she'd saddled herself with a sick man with the potential to be violent, and he knew he wouldn't be able to bear it when that day came. It was up to him to make sure she didn't make this mistake because she deserved more, and he loved her too much to allow her to be blinded by their love. He didn't want her to make that error.

"Claire ...I need to go."

Claire turned him to face her, weariness dimming her normally bright amber eyes. He'd done this to her, snuffed out the light in her. But she was so beautiful, her curls, wrecked and wild, mouth puffy from their kisses. "I'm not letting you go, Jamie. We're in this together. You have to believe me when I say you didn't hurt me and that you are a good man. You don't have it in you to hurt anyone."

Her words were hot irons branding his insides. "Dinnae say those things in the heat of the moment. Ye're too good of a person to realise when something bad is standing right under yer nose."

"You're not making any sense Jamie. Come back to bed, please ...and we'll talk it over." She was close to tears, and it was breaking his heart to see her like this. "I meant it when I said I love you and nothing ...not even this condition that you have will drive me away from you."

Jamie exhaled a sharp breath. "I need to clear my head." He walked away from her and grabbed the jeans, hanging neatly over the chair.

"I know what you're trying to do, Jamie. I can see right through you. You want to leave me because you think you're a danger to me. You're wrong." She tugged his arm and attempted to pull him towards her, but he remained still, looking anywhere but into her eyes. She grasped his face with both her hands, forcing him to look at her. "Look at me! I want you to know I'm not afraid of a fight. Just tell me what I'm up against so I can knock it down for you."

It took a lot of willpower to remain upright and resist the urge to voice out his fears. He knew she would be able to defeat his doubts, but for how long? Those fears would grow back even bigger and more persistent once time had passed and the outside world began to encroach on them. "Let me go, Sassenach."

"Never, Jamie. You said on the day before I left for London we were in this together, you and I. I'm holding my side of the bargain, and I will not let you go. So you better get used to that."

He turned away and started to scramble for the rest of his clothes. When he finished pulling up his jeans and putting on his t-shirt and shoes, it took him what seemed like an eternity to face her. Her face was ashen as she drew the bathrobe around her. "I'm done talking, for now, Claire."

Tears streamed down her face as he grabbed his phone and keys and made his way out. He couldn't get out of the cottage fast enough. His heart hammered, his ears started to ring, his lungs squeezing out the last air. He'd hurt her. He'd seen the bruises with his eyes, and now she's crying because of him. He needed to get out fast to clear his head.

She followed him closely behind. "Please tell me where you're going, Jamie. At least give me that," she pleaded.

He couldn't stand to see her tears anymore or hear the plea in her voice. He was doing what's right for her because he loved her too much. He wasn't even sure where he was going or if anyone would be safe in his presence. All he could think of was how frightened his sister had looked at him and the bruises he'd inflicted in Claire's arms. He needed to get as far away as possible, away from the people he loved.

He got into his car, slammed the door, and started the engine.

Claire banged on his window, her face wet with tears. "Don't do this, Jamie. We can fix this together. Please don't go. I'm begging you."

"I love you, Sassenach. I love you so much," he mumbled under his breath as he jerked his car into gear, reversing from his driveaway. The wheels spun and screeched as he pulled away, his body shaking and his heart shattering into tiny pieces.

Claire's safe now, he reassured himself, gripping the steering wheel tight, safe and far from the stifling darkness closing in.

..........

Claire watched Jamie's car disappear into the darkness. She wanted to scream and crumple to the ground out of sheer despair and fear. But she realised her presence of mind was needed at this moment. She needed to call someone and alert them to what happened. Jamie could be in danger. Willie!

She ran back to the house and grabbed her phone. With shaking fingers, she wiped the tears from her eyes and tapped on the screen. She'd just managed to find Willie's name when her phone rang. She saw it was her uncle Lamb. Oh God now's not the time. Though frustrated, she answered. "Hello?"

The line crackled before uncle Lamb spoke. "Sweetheart, it's me. I hope the Scottish weather is holding up because I'm on my way for a visit. We had another setback at work, and I didn't want to hang around, scratching my arse doing nothing. I'll be arriving in four days. I hope you'll still be there; otherwise, I'll change my flight ticket to London."

Not wanting to alert her uncle with her worries about Jamie, she cleared her throat and tried to sound cheerful. "That's great! I'll be here, and I can't wait to see you! But I really need to run along. So many things going on." It wasn't a lie, but she would call him back once she'd sorted out this mess she was dealing with. "I'll call you later."

"That's fine, darling. I can't wait to meet, Jamie ..."

Oh, dear, God, please help me.

Dear Readers,

Firstly, I'm sorry if this took slightly longer to update. My excuse: my computer has gone funny on me. I need to buy a new PC, and I've been busy looking on the net for one, hence the delay of this update.

Moving along, I'm asking you to please bear with me with this chapter. I understand it's a bit heavy and slightly dark, but it had to be done because it is necessary if the story is to gel together. Despite the heavy undertone of this latest update, I hope you've enjoyed it, and you get what I'm trying to put across. On a much brighter note, thank you so much for your feedback from the previous chapter. I love it when I read your thoughts about a scene or plot. They are so appreciated, and I'm already looking forward to what you think of this latest instalment. Meanwhile, wishing you a great start to the week. Take care of yourself always and be safe. Much love.X

#melodyheart #wonderwall #milesbetweenus #ClaireBeauchamp/JamieFraser #claire beauchamp #jamie fraser #outlanderfanfic

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unmitigatedsuperiority · 4 years ago

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Words Ain't Enough

Summary: After a particularly rough case, JJ seeks out some comfort from an old friend. Emily wishes things were different.

Pairing: Jennifer Jareau x Emily Prentiss

Word count: 3.0k

Category: Hurt/comfort, angst

Rating: T

Warnings: Alcohol use, allusions to sex, mentions of blood and death, emotional cheating/allusions to cheating, general angst

AO3 Link

This is the first fic I've ever written so please be nice 🥺

Emily had made the conscious and totally logical decision to raid her hotel room’s minibar tonight. Less in celebration and more in relief that this week’s case was finally over. Not that it’d ever really be out of her head. She knew the girl’s lifeless eyes would be in her dreams tonight. Hopefully with enough vodka she could drown it out and have a semi-restful, dreamless sleep.

Emily was good at compartmentalizing. She’d seen lots of horrible things over the years and had gotten worryingly good at shoving her emotions so far down that they barely registered at all anymore. Maybe that was the way it was supposed to be. Numb. It sure as hell beat whatever the fuck she was feeling right now.

She ignored the way her hands shook as she grabbed a bottle of vodka from the mini fridge. Her mind was going a mile a minute, replaying everything that went wrong. She should’ve known the unsub was armed; should’ve reacted faster. She’d never felt as useless as she did then, clawing at her own clothes, ripping off what she could to help stop the bleeding except it wouldn’t stop. It wouldn’t stop bleeding. If she thought back to the beginning of that night, she could pinpoint the exact moment things started going wrong. From the team getting split up to the flaws in the profile to the unexpected change in location. Emily’s brain was like her own personal greatest hits show except it was all fear and blood and death and –

Sitting down in front of the mini fridge, she unscrewed the top of the bottle and only hesitated for a second before she downed the liquid. She winced as it burned in her throat on the way down, settling in her stomach. She knew drinking wasn’t the healthiest way to cope, but then again, she wasn’t the healthiest person. And tonight called for special circumstances.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock at her hotel room door.

Emily glanced at the clock and saw 1:40 AM flashing back at her in a particularly aggressive shade of red. It was pretty late. What could possibly be going on now?

Vaguely aware of the fact that she was only in an old tank top and shorts with a hole in the butt, she pushed herself off the ground and walked towards the door. She flung the door open, prepared to send off whoever it was with maybe a bit too much vitriol, but when she saw the blonde standing there, her mind was immediately put at ease.

“Oh, it’s you,” Emily said, mostly to herself. She couldn’t help but scan her eyes down the other woman’s body. Even in an old, oversized t-shirt, JJ was beautiful.

It was probably Will’s shirt. The thought made her stomach turn sour. While Emily was happy for JJ and Will – she was, yes, she was, she totally was – it still hurt to think that she was no longer the first person JJ would go to when things went south on a case or when she got good news or when she just needed some… stress relief. For a while they had a sort of unspoken arrangement, but that ended quickly with the pregnancy and the engagement and, well… she was with Will now. This couldn’t happen anymore. While seeing JJ every day and not being able to hold, to touch, to comfort her made Emily feel like someone reached down and hollowed out her insides, she could still be there as a friend. And damn it if she wasn’t going to try to be the best friend JJ ever had.

Emily couldn’t help but notice that JJ looked worse for wear much like herself. Her brow was slightly furrowed, and she was biting her lip – a nervous habit. “What’s going on?” Emily offered.

“I just… this case. It’s getting to me, you know?” JJ looked up, something unintelligible written across her face. “Can I come in? Please?”

Emily nodded and held the door open for her. JJ allowed herself an appreciative smile before stepping into the other woman’s bedroom. Emily eyed her as the other agent glanced around the room, pretending not to notice the empty bottle on top of the minifridge. Emily looked away as JJ sat on the bed, her shirt riding up just enough to show off her upper thighs. God, Emily missed those thighs. She cleared her throat and willed the blush away from her cheeks as she took a seat next to JJ, pointedly looking at the wall in front of them. “So, what’s up?” she sighed, hoping to get the concern in voice across more than the blush in her cheeks.

JJ let out a breath and put her head in her hands. A beat passed before she spoke. “I can’t stop thinking about that girl.” Emily instantly understood. JJ made some tough calls that night and was ultimately the first person at the victim’s side after the shooting. It couldn’t have been easy on her. “I mean, we were wrong, and she paid the price for it. It shouldn’t have turned out like that. It should’ve been me I –” JJ went silent as her fingers embedded themselves further in her hair, her chin tucking into her chest, folding in on herself.

Emily hated to hear her talk this way. Like her decisions were questionable, like her life was expendable. She gingerly wrapped an arm around the distraught agent and pulled her into her chest. “Shhh…it’s okay. No one could’ve predicted what happened. You did what you thought was best. It’s not your fault,” Emily whispered as JJ tucked her face into the crook of Emily’s neck. She rubbed small circles into her back and sat there, letting the other woman take all the time she needed, emotions coming to a peak and then softly crashing down, wave after wave. She placed a gentle kiss on top of her head. As awful as it was seeing the woman that she deeply cared for be in pain, Emily had missed these moments. No matter how tough this job got, she knew she was safe at JJ’s side, the two of them leaning into each other, folding under the weight of the case, letting themselves feel what they had to until their breaths would eventually slow, and they would just sit there, leaving everything unsaid but nothing unaddressed. See, they didn’t always need words to understand what the other was feeling. Sometimes they’d give each other a look, and then fall into this routine of care and comfort and words unspoken.

Emily couldn’t pinpoint how much time had passed before JJ spoke. “It’s okay,” she treaded lightly. “If you need to talk. Or cry. Whatever you need to feel. You were also close to everything that happened and I just….” JJ trailed off. Emily smiled sadly at her. She missed having someone who cared enough to see her cry.

“Oh, I’m fine,” she lied through her teeth. JJ knew she was lying – Emily knew that. She still did it anyway. It was easier than the alternative. Easier than falling apart and showing a side of herself she never showed anyone.

JJ let out an exasperated sigh and grabbed her hand, sending a faint current of electricity up Emily’s arm and down her spine. She pulled Emily down onto the bed with her, so they were lying side by side. Falling back into their old routine after a particularly rough case. When words weren’t enough, and closeness was the only thing that quieted their haunting thoughts.

Emily looked over to find JJ staring at her. She couldn’t quite get a read on the expression on her face before JJ turned over and wrapped her arm around Emily’s torso. She welcomed the weight of JJ’s arm over her abdomen, her own personal weighted blanket. It was comforting. Emily splayed her hands up and down the smooth expanse of her shoulders and back, as if she was hoping she could absorb some of the pain the blonde was feeling. She wasn’t JJ’s go-to for emotional support anymore – that was Will’s job now – and she’d be lying if she said that fact didn’t make her heart ache. But she still accepted this role eagerly and with grace when it was needed. She’d absorb all the pain in the world into herself if it meant that JJ could be at peace. She was used to pain after all, and an expert at shoving the dark stuff deep, deep down into her psyche, until it rested far beneath the surface. Like an anchor sinking to the bottom of the ocean.

The two women laid there on top of the hotel bed, holding on as if the other was the only stable thing left in the world. Occasionally JJ would pull Emily in closer, and if Emily returned the gesture by strengthening her hold on the blonde, no one had to know. JJ nestled her face into Emily’s neck and Emily allowed her head to rest on JJ’s. She felt the blonde’s breathing eventually slow to a more even pace as the anxiety melted away, bit by bit. No words needed to be said.

Emily was acutely aware of the way JJ’s legs curled up and their knees rubbed against each other, the way JJ was lightly tracing over Emily’s side with her thumb, arm not moving from its position across her waist. She was close enough to smell JJ’s shampoo: something floral and calming, like lily or jasmine. She could feel the faint outline of her lips where her neck met her shoulder and it made Emily’s mind race.

They hadn’t done this in a while, but it was just as familiar as breathing. The way JJ’s body slot perfectly into hers, the comfortable silence and mutual understanding… sometimes Emily felt like she needed to hold JJ in the same way that she needed air in her lungs.

Glancing down at the blonde, Emily suddenly felt the need to tell her everything. Her favorite place to go to growing up, her mixed feelings about orange juice, her unwavering love for the other woman. She almost felt nauseous at how badly she suddenly wanted to speak. Like she had a weight on her chest, a metaphorical one far heavier than the beautiful woman laying on top of her. JJ was always encouraging her to open up. And realizing that she had no idea when they would be this close, this alone, again, almost made her want to. But Emily knew what would happen. And it wasn’t a particularly happy ending. Taking a deep breath, she decided that she would open up, just a little bit, in a different way. Anything to get JJ to stay a bit longer. Besides, she probably should talk about what happened out there today. After several minutes of silence and breathing and just holding each other, Emily spoke.

“She reminded me of myself.”

JJ lifted her head up and gazed at the brunette. Emily rarely spoke about her feelings unless it was surface level or in a joking way. She felt JJ’s eyes on her as she continued staring straight ahead, purposefully avoiding the vulnerability that eye contact would bring. She continued before JJ could say anything.

“When I was talking to her the other day, everything she said… I knew exactly how she felt. That’s kind of what I was like at her age.” Emily dryly chuckled as she gripped the arm that was slung across her stomach, settling for touch instead of eye contact. “I think in a way…I looked after her as though she was me. When I was that age. There’s a lot of things I would do differently, and I guess I sort of felt like I could help her, outside of this case.” She looked down and JJ held onto her tighter. It was a several moments before she spoke again. “I failed her,” she voiced, barely a whisper.

JJ sat up a little and placed her hand on Emily’s shoulder. “You didn’t fail her,” she started. “You did everything you could. It’s like you said, no one could have predicted what happened.” She trailed her hand up and down Emily’s arm before leaving her hand at the dip where her shoulder met her neck. “For what it’s worth, I think you did have a real impact on her. What happened was tragic but don’t for one second think you didn’t make a difference. Because you did, of course you did.” Her next words were barely a whisper. “You always do.” JJ stared into Emily’s pensive eyes with the utmost seriousness. Because she meant every word she said. Emily slowly sat up and met her gaze, trying to communicate appreciation and gratitude and love and everything that words couldn’t say. She tentatively placed her hand on JJ’s hip and began to run her thumb up and down, as if that small gesture of comfort could say what Emily couldn’t, and as if her hand on her hip could hold the blonde down before reality snatched her away again.

JJ glanced at Emily’s lips for the flitting moment. So brief, Emily nearly thought she’d made it up. But then it happened again. And just like that the air in the room shifted. And Emily felt the alcohol coursing through her body.

Whether it was the vodka that loosened her inhibitions, or she was just getting drunk off JJ’s gentle looks and touches, she couldn’t believe what she was about to do.

Emily slowly leaned in, as if some gravitational force was pulling every atom in her being closer and closer. Slowly, she brushed her lips over the corner of JJ’s mouth, planting a feather-light kiss there. The blonde let out the smallest gasp at the contact. When JJ didn’t pull away, she slowly turned her head and did the same to the other side. She heard JJ gulp, and hoped the other woman couldn’t hear the way her heart was hammering in her chest. She ghosted over JJ’s lips, feeling like every nerve ending in her body was on fire.

JJ’s grip tightened on Emily’s waist, and she ran her other hand further up her neck, like she couldn’t get close enough. Though her words told a different story. “We can’t,” JJ practically whispered, but she wasn’t pulling away. Then again, she wasn’t closing the minuscule amount of space left between them, either. This is where they existed, their feelings for each other, in limbo. They stayed like that, breathing in time to a melody that only they knew.

“It’s just us,” Emily gently countered. “Inside this hotel room, away from the real world… it’s just us.” She tangled a hand in JJ’s hair, playing with the ends. JJ let out a shaky breath and inched her lips the tiniest bit closer when she just as suddenly pulled away.

“I can’t do that to Will.” JJ avoided eye contact and instead stared at her hands which were now resting in her lap. Emily yearned for their touch once more. She sighed and placed a hand on JJ’s cheek, redirecting her gaze back at her, and looking at her as if for the first and last time. The blonde leaned into her touch, smiling sadly and lightly kissing the other woman’s palm. JJ’s blue eyes were piercing in a way that made Emily’s heart hurt, conveying all the emotions that they needed to keep locked away.

“At least stay with me,” Emily pleaded. She traced along the curves of her cheek with her thumb. “Just for tonight. Just until morning.” JJ closed her eyes and inhaled the subtle scents of Emily. Vodka and sandalwood. She opened her eyes with newfound resolve.

“Okay,” she breathed. Emily returned her sad smile. This is what it had to be. She pulled JJ back down onto the bed, lifting up the comforter over their heads, shielding away the world from this precious bubble they had. JJ curled into Emily, and Emily wrapped her arms tightly around the other woman. They both sighed, exhaling everything that could never be said. They were soldiers at war, fiercely protecting each other’s’ lives and guarding each other’s’ hearts, and this off-white hotel comforter was their first line of defense. Beyond this bed, this room, things would be different. But at this moment in time, they could hold each other. And that would have to be enough. Slowly, their breaths became shallow, and they fell asleep in each other’s arms, hearts beating in sync.

That night Emily dreamed of ocean blue eyes, soft hands, and lilies.

When Emily awoke, it was to an empty bed. She turned over and looked at the clock on the bedside table. 6:57. Almost time to wake up and get ready to go to the jet. She flipped back over and glanced at the empty space before her, the subtle indent left in the bed. She brushed her hand over the side where JJ used to be, closed her eyes, and breathed in the scent of floral shampoo and something else that was all too familiar. If she were to open her eyes, she’d have to get up and face the harsh reality that lay before her. The one where JJ does not love her, at least not in the way that Emily wants. Where JJ would be by her side at all times, but only in the workplace. Only professionally.

As the sun crested over the buildings outside and peeked in through the blinds, Emily soaked in its warmth, along with everything else she could before she got up. She didn’t want to let go of the night before. So, she basked in it instead. Her, this bed, and the ghost of the woman she loves, closed off from the rest of the world. Echoes of what could have been scattered about in the smallest crevices and the darkest corners of this hotel room. And for now, that would have to be enough.

masterlist | taglist

#criminal minds #jemily #jennifer jareau #emily prentiss #criminal minds fic #fanfiction #jemily fanfiction #jemily angst #fics by rj

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everything-laito · 4 years ago

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How would you react if someone close to you found out you enjoy Diabolik Lovers and then accused you of glorifying Laito’s actions by drawing fan art of him? I don’t think it is shameful to enjoy fiction with themes of abuse as long as one can differentiate between fiction and reality and right and wrong, but I was just wondering if you think it is worth ending a whole friendship because of this dispute. My friends think I am someone who supports sexual assault through this series and it hurts.

Coming back from the dead to answer this question

Oh goodness, first of all, I’m very sorry anon. I’ve been in that exact situation with a friend when I first got into DL six years ago. They’re not my friend anymore due to some other things that happened in early high school on top of that, but trust me, it’s something that I’m familiar with too.

I was also ashamed of myself as well for some time. But, after when I was first sexually assaulted, I still didn’t mind Dialovers, and in fact, it was a coping mechanism for me (probably the healthiest I could find at that moment too). Although, Laito’s HDB route definitely hit very very hard because it is his darkest route in the series. But you can still watch something and be like “oh god this is a terrible situation” but know it’s still fictional, and since Laito’s HDB route is a well written one, you can appreciate it from an artistic stance. Art and media shouldn’t be limited to drawing the positives. Sure does it glorify nonconsensual situations??? Maybe a little but it does show Yui’s deterioration and trauma. Which is why I don’t think it glorifies it too much in HDB, considering what Yui’s thoughts are can be very real.

(Also not saying all sexual assault survivors will have the same opinion of this anime, I don’t speak for all survivors. But there’s your perspective from one :))

Regardless, the fanservice of DL, at its core, is a ravishment fantasy franchise. Sure people are here for the lore too (I know I am), but they can also be for the fanservice. I am unsure how old you are, anon, but considering this petty argument is occurring between a friend and you, it sounds like some high school/late middle school drama to me. I preface this considering I’m gonna be arguing something from the 18+ scale too. If you’re not 18+ this doesn’t rly apply to you (since no minors should be practicing kink) but there is something called CNC, or “consensual non-consensual.” Also known as “rape roleplay.” It’s a kink that can be used in BDSM, and is enacted by consenting adults. Is it nonconsensual? No way! However, in order to practice this, you need a lot of communication and trust, and it’s something that you shouldn’t start out with of course. Also, see Netflix’ “Sex Explained” and I think the first episode is on sexual fantasies. Many women have ravishment fantasies, but that doesn’t mean they want it ACTUALLY to happen to them!! With those types of fantasies it’s just in a D/s (Dom/sub) power play situation, which again, is performed by two (or more) consenting adults.

When it comes to that argument as well, it’s kind of like saying “if you watch and like slasher horror, you support serial killers” which,,,, is far from truth. Murder and rape are both terrible things. We’re just more used to seeing glorified violence on mainstream media rather than rape in general. There’s a whole slasher fandom! With people who love the lore and people who love the characters! It’s pretty similar to this fandom given the circumstances. But there’s people who have crushes on real life serial killers, and that’s just,,,, that’s a huge issue (abs very gross), and very different. Since one’s fantasy, and one’s in real life with real life actions that have affected legitimate families that exist. Even going from the slasher serial killer, it’s like “if you like Deadpool, do you support his actions?” (Which yes he’s an antihero but he does pretty illegal things) which no!!! It’s fun to explore dark and illegal exposition in a fictional world! It’s an escape! It’s looking at a story and still having empathy and sympathy for the characters.

So no!!! Liking DL is not supporting rape!! That’s legitimately such a stretch, and if you want to get technical with this, it’s a type of fallacy called the “slippery slope” fallacy. I believe it’s a combo of others too, but it’s making a claim and having the conclusion be way out of left field. I believe it falls under poor deductive reasoning (but it may be unsound inductive reasoning, it’s been a while since I’ve had to use those skills oops). For an anime specific example, let’s just say you know someone who has a crush on Yuno Gasai from Future Diary. Many people do. Many people love her character. Yuno’s a very flawed, traumatized character just like the ones in DL. But people love her! But you’re not supporting her incredibly unethical actions and murder by liking them!

Even if you know that this is a fictional universe, if you knowthat the characters are flawed but still like their characters, that doesn’t mean you’d support their actions irl. If they’re an interesting villain like legitimately all the characters (except Yui) in the first game are (the diaboys become both the villain??? And the hero??? It’s blurred in the later games but that’s what I love about DL), but you can appreciate their characters and flaws, that’s not supporting their actions at all. It’s a goddamn fictional universe and if you know not to do that and you know the repercussions of it irl then your friends should know you well enough that you have a good head on your shoulders!!! Shit makes me wicked mad, but it’s nothing to lose a friendship over unless if they’re being very toxic (that ex friend I was talking about earlier was a very toxic person and that’s also part of the reason why I’m not her friend anymore but it wasn’t DL related). Sure you can disagree with liking DL, but you still have to respect them. I’m linking a video from Markiplier made four years ago with a powerful message.

I’m very sorry you’re going through this. It’s completely normal, healthy, and inconsequential to be exploring a dark fictional world but not its contents in real life. Your friends shouldn’t be treating you like that. It’s hypocritical of them in my opinion, assuming that they also watch stuff with violence and illegal/unethical acts in them—I don’t know a single person who doesn’t, considering there’s even kids cartoon violence. Best of luck you you though, I hope I was able to help.

#i could pop off on the whole video games equalling violence argument #im not gonna #but video games dont create violence they literally dont #unless if you have some serious mental issues but that goes for anything not even playing video games #SHIT MAKES ME MAD LOL #ask corn #diabolik lovers #dialovers #dialover

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firewoodfigs · 4 years ago

Text

a smorgasbord of unbidden thoughts / highlights (long post ahead!):

we’re slowly creeping out of the lockdown, and we’re allowed to go out for meals now! I got to meet a friend for dinner on Monday and he treated me to some amazing Italian fare as a belated birthday gift :’) I was really craving Italian after watching Luca and I haven’t had good pasta in a long while, so that was really nice. I also met a friend for dinner today after work, and we’re just glad to have made it to Friday tbh lmao. it was nice catching up again after so long and talking about everything under the sun (in this case, under the moon). I love spending time alone and having time myself, but I can’t deny that I’ve also missed interacting with other sentient life forms lmao.

I managed to re-schedule my vaccine slots, and I'm getting my first shot tomorrow! fingers crossed it won’t be too bad (I still wanna be able to type through the soreness 😩). I'm a little nervous tbh because I absolutely detest needles, but I feel like at this point I just don’t care anymore LMAO. it also helps that my bf and I got the same vaccination slot, so I guess I'll just make a ruckus and be a nuisance if things go south. jk

next week’s my last full week of work before my two-month break begins! I'm really excited to finally get a breather from work (although to be fair I've only been working for like... 6 months lmao rip) before things get real hectic in September haha. I'm definitely not looking forward to the added responsibilities, and i’m honestly not sure how to feel about getting called to the bar because everyday is just a flurry of shit, am I really cut out for this and help, work is dulling my * sparkle * and yo, you think I can just move somewhere west and be a country singer? but oh well. too late I guess. I'm too deep in debt to get out now LMAO. jk

on the bright side, though, I received news today that I’ve been designated to my preferred area of practice for my next seat :) and i'm pretty excited about that! I've honestly been feeling pretty desiccated about the law ever since starting practice because it’s so different from whatever I've studied and something that college couldn’t have possibly prepared me for lmao (many thoughts but I don’t want to turn this into an essay so I will simply project my feelings onto my favourite war criminals)

it’s been a struggle to create lately, for various reasons. these days it feels like anything I make is woefully inadequate and subpar and mediocre, and i’m just. constantly torn between striking everything out altogether and desperately wanting to be better, to feel better. I felt a little burnt out after royai week because I was rushing to complete so many projects and ideas on time (I do tend to get a little overambitious and overzealous that way, haha), and so I tried to take a break, but I couldn’t properly rest, either, because these days I only feel alive when I'm... creating. LOL. it's like an unresolvable paradox where I slog to feel alive and then feel like death, and then feel like I'm wasting away and wasting time when I'm being unproductive and fruitless. idk, man. it’s probably the productivity guilt acting up or something. it doesn’t help that my mind is an unholy mix of anxiety and imposter syndrome and perfectionism, either, or that inspiration only strikes me at the ungodliest of hours. I find that it’s easier to write when I've cleared everything else on my plate, but sometimes it’ll be midnight by the time I've done that because there’s just so much to do. I end up writing at two in the morning and/or recording snippets of a putative song while half-asleep (the result is usually pretty dang awful, because I have no idea what I was saying when I listen to it the next day lmao).

I also find it to difficult to alternate between so many forms of writing. my job mostly consists of reading and writing (mostly boring and terribly dreary stuff, because lawyers have apparently never heard of punctuation or one-liners, and I am 100% proving this right now with my streams of consciousness), and my hobbies primarily include that, too. I've also been struggling to switch between writing prose/fic and poems and songs because i tend to focus on different things. (I also have the attention span of a goldfish. or a confused rat.) like, I focus a lot more on how things flow for the first, how things look for the second, and how things sound for the third, if that makes sense? but I also literally cannot focus on one thing at a time so everything is just a half-written mess and a smattering of my illegible scrawls tbh 😞 I'm hoping that I'll have more time to sit down and properly sort these out one at a time during my break hahaha.

that being said, I read something this week about the four stages of learning a new skill LOL iirc it goes (1) unconscious incompetence (2) conscious incompetence (3) conscious competence (4) unconscious incompetence? I find that I'm stuck at (2) atm for a lot of things, which is probably why it’s so hard to go forth and do the damn thing without descending into a spiral of self-doubt haha. the truth is I rely on external reassurances and validation a great deal to tide me through, because my mind is just so used to criticising myself for everything and being my own harshest critic that it’s become a challenge to objectively assess my own work. it’s probably a defence mechanism to feeling like failure is not an option and/or my upbringing or something, and it’s how I’ve coped with a lot of things, but I'm also coming to realise that it’s not always the healthiest way to live haha.

BUT, you know. at the end of the day it’s a hobby and it’s supposed to be fun and joy-inducing and. it’s so easy to ruin all of that in the process of pursuing perfection so. I think i’ll just work on attempting the damn thing and worrying about it afterwards 🤠 (and also being less exacting on myself haha)

ending things on a lighter and brighter note - I received a lovely surprise from a friend this week!! I ordered some earrings from her (the stuff she makes is the stuff of DREAMS) and she tossed in a necklace for me and it’s just. it’s beautiful. it’s handmade. it’s astounding. I'm weeping.

#personal #not fma #sorry this turned out to be such a long ramble lmao... I've just been keeping these thoughts to the back of my mind #and it's Friday night so I'm unleashing them from the vault LMAO #anyway I'm off to bed!!! <3 I hope y'all have a lovely weekend mwahmwahMWAH

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thestarkerisobvious · 4 years ago

Text

Ghosting You -- Chapter 5

thanks to @mrstarksbaby

who is amazing

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

To be tagged please message/ask me.

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

Chapter 1 Is Here

Chapter 2 Is Here

Chapter 3 Is Here

Chapter 4 Is Here

Ghosting You

by @thestarkerisobvious and @von--gelmini aka @starker-stories

Chapter 5: Peter - This Is All Quentin’s Fault

AND a sneak-peak at Chapter 6

This was Quentin’s fault.

Of course, that had been the chorus in the song of Peter’s miserable summer. “This Is All Quentin’s Fault.”

Each verse, of course, was that Peter, himself, was a miserable failure. As a son. As a superhero. As a person. At least he knew how to drive reasonably well. Day after day he listened to the verses of that song and wondered how much longer he could take it. When the answer seemed to be something like “not much longer” then he listened to the chorus instead. It wasn’t hard. There were a lot of things he could blame on Quentin Beck.

The fact that he was high in the middle of the day was #1. Which was really Jim Nelson’s fault, but Jim Nelson was Quentin’s fault. And that’s why he was high.

Neither Peter Parker nor Spider-Man got high, that was the rule. Night Monkey got high, laying on the tops of impossible buildings so no one could see him crying in the starlight, longing for some kind of peace. But now even the oblivion he had sometimes found on those rooftops was evading him, and Peter wasn’t sure if he would be able to live with that.

Enter Jim Nelson.

Jim Nelson was so very incredibly normal Peter never thought they would ever find something to talk about, but they did. It was random, it was boring, but they got along together spectacularly despite all that. Jim’s coke-use was extremely casual, in fact Peter had to lie a lot about his own use when he realized just how much it would shock his new friend if he knew just how many different hard substances Peter had tried (Jim didn’t really hang out with the multiple-drug selling crowd. Peter, on the other hand, busted the multiple-drug selling crowd on a regular basis.) Peter decided that hanging out with Jim was an acceptable thing for Peter Parker to do. And that meant that, maybe, Peter Parker did a little coke. What Jim called “coke use” did nothing for Peter’s enhanced system anyway, so it didn’t seem to count.

But that wasn’t the problem with Jim Nelson.

The problem was, Jim Nelson wanted to get high… and make out.

And that was a problem. Maybe if Peter WAS high, it would be different. Maybe, then, he could relax and just go with it. Jim was nice. Jim was cute. Jim knew what he wanted to do and was hoping to talk Peter into it. And, dammit, maybe Peter was ready for it.

But why did the idea of letting Jim do that to him bring the Late Great Quentin Beck back and blaring into his head?

Dammit Quentin had never gotten Peter into bed.

Ever. Never ever. Quentin had never gotten Peter into bed.

Peter gave up Tony’s incredible high-powered weapons system to the man desperately hoping that the ending to that sentence would change, and look how that turned out.

Even now, as much as Peter wanted to slit his own throat for trusting Quentin, his body still longed for what the two of them could have been together.

And #2 of Things That were Quentin’s Fault, of course, was getting high every night. Totally Quentin’s fault. Because when Peter was high he wasn’t horny. When he was high he could think about Tony, about everything they could have had, about everything they’d never had. If he could keep the edges blurred, he could deal with the pain.

But when he wasn’t high? That meant lonely horny nights, no more or less than any typical boy his age probably… but this boy his age still dreamed about Quentin Beck. Dreamed of what that beard would feel like on the back of his neck, on the backs of his thighs… dreamed of what that solid weight would feel like, pinning his body down, forcing Peter’s legs apart, pushing himself inside. Would those hypnotic eyes be open, staring Peter down, daring him to look away, even when he came? Or would he be overwhelmed with sensation, closing his eyes at the last second… leaving Peter beaming with pride, knowing that he could overwhelm even the mighty Quentin Beck. And would the man be gentle when…

It was ridiculous. He was lusting after a man who was murderous, treacherous and hated. Not to mention dead.

But that made sense, because the man Peter was in love with was dead too.

The Walking Down The City Block With My Eyes Closed Behind My Sunglasses was #3, but maybe Quentin wasn’t to “blame” for that as much the cause of it… because THAT wasn’t a bad thing exactly. Of all Peter’s coping mechanisms, that one was probably the healthiest.

Oh, and Wanting To Die because Tony wasn’t alive to forgive him for giving Karen to Quentin? That would be #4. Except that wasn’t Quentin’s fault so much as very very very much on Peter.

And then there was The Problem With Jim, coming it at #5. And that was a really thorny problem because Jim… a god Jim… poor Jim.

Poor Jim just wanted to get laid. Which would probably be impossible. How could Peter explain?? How could Peter explain to any one that only way Peter could keep Quentin off his mind was to forget all about sex, too?

And that’s why Peter was high as a kite right now, in the middle of the day, where anyone could see. Jim, Jim who JUST wanted to make out, THAT Jim had left disappointed. Understanding, but disappointed. Probably thinking that Peter was just a wussy virgin. Which, admirably, he was. But at least Jim had left Peter with quite a bit of coke. Enough to kill a grown man, Jim had assured him (Peter could never quite figure out how much that was, and he trusted Jim to know these things.)

Enough Coke To Kill A Grown Man, it turned out, wasn’t enough to take the edge off Peter’s depression. But it did seem to be enough to make getting the keys into the ignition of the car a little difficult. Not too difficult, but difficult. More difficult than normal.

“Oh well,” Peter thought, as he tried to start the car. “At least I know what to aim for for next time.”

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

Chapter 6: Tony - I Haven’t Seen That Much Coke Since the 80s

He put the key in the ignition after several tries, but when he turned it, his car wouldn’t start.

“The ‘driving impaired’ protocol has been initiated, Peter,” FRIDAY’s voice said. “Auto nav engaged. I will take you home.” The doors locked, unopenable, and his new car started on its own...

#Ghosting You #Peter Parker/Tony Stark #Starker #Von Wrote Something #Von And I Write Together #Ben's Moodboards

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smilepal · 4 years ago

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👹🍊 🏀 🐟 ❤ :3c

Character ask meme for @billlybutcher ☺️

👹--How does you OC act around different people and how does their personality change to match the environment they’re in? How do they act with: friends, family, strangers, children or their lover(s)?

Hiro's personality/how he comes off is very dependent on who he's around. He takes pride in being adaptable to most situations, and being able to keep up a mask, or have people perceive him a certain way. It's easy to act--put on a show, let people see what you want them to see. This, in combination with a lack of fear, and the ability to be charming, at least with his mouth shut--has allowed him to bullshit his way out of situations he maybe shouldn't have been able to. If it seems like you're supposed to be there, and you know what you're doing, you can usually get away with quite a bit? He's quick to put on a front around strangers, depending on what he wants from them. Clients will usually perceive him as someone who's there to get the job done, quickly and without a whole lot of bullshit. He's to the point, often to the extent of being a bit abrupt/and wants to get the whole ordeal over with so he can get paid. If he wants something/is off-work though, he can be pretty charming--especially in the right context/if someone's caught his eye. He's still pretty direct in that regard, albeit less abrasive. He still has a mouth on him though, and that never changes much.

With friends he tends to let his guard down a bit, if they're very close to him--and with family as well. He still holds back a bit though, and it's something he still struggles with sometimes even if he has gotten better over time. Close friends/family are treated to a rare glimpse of a softer side, one that is strangely sentimental, and remembers the tiny details about people--a favorite flower, or song they like--stuff that makes them happy. He's a little hesitant around children, and honestly they scare him a bit. They're small, and have so much energy, and are just all over the place and he's the one to look back at their guardians for help. Despite this, he tries to be nice to them and makes a genuine effort not to seem too scary, and just hopes that none of them think he makes a good role model--something he hasn't been entirely successful with. With his lovers/people who've managed to get beyond the initial instinct to keep people at a distance (at least emotionally) he's a very dedicated, loyal partner. He might not always know how to convey something verbally, or get tripped up and have it come out less gracefully than he'd like, but he's not afraid to show affection through actions and gestures, and is always trying to find new ways to do so--whether that's spending quality time with them, or finding out how to cook their favorite meal for them.

🍊--Does your OC have any triggers? Why do these things trigger them? What are they like when triggered and how do they calm down after?

Hiro has a couple, not that he'd ever be forthcoming about that to others, or honestly, to himself. He's very reliant on his senses, and being deprived of any of them is something that deeply unsettles him/can push him into a spiral if it goes too far--the sense of being unmoored or untethered is enough to make him panic, especially if it's deliberate. He...doesn't do great with feeling helpless, and being cut off from his senses just amplifies that. Even in day-to-day life, he doesn't like complete silence. Being alone with his thoughts is something he genuinely tries to avoid, and dead silence exacerbates it. He tries to maintain at least some small level of background noise--usually the bustle of Night City/ambient sounds are enough, but if he's at home or driving, he likes to have the radio on in the background or music playing quietly.

In general, Hiro rarely lets his guard down, always keeping an eye out, both for his own safety and for others--and if someone manages to take him by surprise, even if it's on accident, he usually doesn't respond great. At the very best, he's fairly defensive or prickly/and if they're not someone he cares about maintaining a relationship with/if was done maliciously there could be a fight. His fight or flight response is strong, and it's just determined by how much he values a relationship. If there's a way out, he'll take it rather than risk an argument, but if pushed far enough, he'd snap at someone, loved one or not. That would usually take deliberate goading on their part though--usually by prying into his business more closely than he'd like or trying to get answers out of him he isn't comfortable giving.

Hiro takes a while to calm down/wind himself down after. He responds pretty strongly, and tries to remove himself from the situation as fast as possible. Typically if it’s really bad, he’s not going to want to talk about it and might just disappear for a bit—he’ll either get on his bike and go for a ride, or go clubbing/dancing. If it’s bad, and he feels like he can’t be around people, he might go spar with a training bag, and try to get some of his agitation out that way. Most of his coping skills are typically very physical—and all things considered, usually fairly healthy outlets. He tries to wear himself out enough that he doesn’t have to think very hard, or just surround himself with so much noise/stimulation he literally can’t focus on anything else.

🏀--Does your OC have any skills that people wouldn’t expect them to have? Do they have a hobby or pass time that others would consider strange or weird? How did they learn this particular skill or pick up this hobby?

Hiro is a surprisingly talented baker. He obviously never had much time for it before he left the Tyger Claws, or the opportunity to do something he’d consider so frivolous, but he picked it up from Mama Welles after he met Jackie. For the fact that he’s still pretty nervous cooking, he’s actually a decent baker, and enjoys how much he can tune everything else out while he’s doing it. He rarely bakes for himself, seeing it as something that isn’t necessarily worth the cost of supplies/the time commitment, but if there was even an inkling that someone else would appreciate it—they’d be quick to find some sort of homemade treat waiting for them when they least expect it—and as he’d be quick to point out—he looks damn cute in an apron. Most of his hobbies are pretty normal—dancing, boxing, rock climbing, and usually fairly physical. He’s been dancing for a long time, but the boxing he picked up from Jackie/Viktor, and the rock climbing from Victory. He also loves to race bikes and this is a definitely a hold-over from his TC days. It’s not necessarily a weird hobby, but people usually don’t expect him to like clothing/shopping as much as he does—and it’s usually where a lot of his extra income disappears to (well that and expensive stuff for his hair.)

🐟--What was your OC like as a baby? What were they like as a child? A teenager? An adult? How do you think they’ll develop ten years into their future? Twenty years? Will they live to old age?

Hiro was a really quiet child—and desperate for any sort of guidance/attention. His role models growing up weren’t good ones, and they definitely used this as an opportunity to manipulate him. He was very approval-seeking, and would take that wherever he could find it, even if meant trusting people he probably shouldn’t have. Granted, he didn’t know much better, but the lesson stuck with him, and it left him a much warier adult. Hiro was a god-awful shit as a teenager. He was still in the Tyger Claws at the time, and there was a lot of repressed anger/trauma there with almost zero outlets. There are a few relationships he maintains from before he cut ties with TC, but they are few and far between, Judy and Viktor being the biggest ones—and even those went through rocky periods.

Ten years into the future, it really depends if he can stay clear of the gangs or not. The likelihood of him allying himself with a corporation is slim to none, but enough bad choices/impulsive decisions might still lead him down a not-so-good path. Twenty years—he’d either be the healthiest he’s ever been, with strong relationships with others, and a circle of people he’s truly grown to trust, or what he absolutely used to dread/fear becoming. It all depends on whether he puts personal relationships/growth over what’s easier for him/seems to come a little too easily, and lets himself get consumed by the darker side of Night City. Regardless, he’d probably survive to old age—honestly out of sheer spite. He’s always been driven by survival/keeping himself alive, and would honestly do so even if only to outlive his enemies. Even into older age though, he’d still try to keep himself sharp. Whatever the case, the likelihood of a peaceful retirement somewhere seems far-fetched. He’d still manage to find his way into the middle of things, even if only unintentionally.

❤️--What inspired you to make this OC? How long have you had them? How have they changed in the time you’ve been developing them?

Oh boy, I’ll try not to get too long-winded with this. Hiro started as an OC for an unnamed futuristic story—probably about two-ish years ago? I’d just seen Bladerunner (as well as the more recent sequel) for the first time, and I’d never gotten too deeply into the genre before. But I realized I wanted to create a character that would fit into one one these universes—someone scrappy, a survivor at heart, and who wasn’t afraid to risk his own safety for his found family. He didn’t have a lot of depth when I first created him (although the name stuck—he was always Hiro, and it never felt right changing it). He initially was a lot less sympathetic, and honestly—even aggravated me a bit. I tried to create a character that was a little more balanced, and someone who had flaws but wasn’t completely unlikeable, and who’s impulsive actions led to actual, lasting consequences. His initial character (even before I fit him into the CP universe) began as a sort of android, who could almost, but not quite pass as human. He still has fairly extensive cybernetics, and relies on them heavily, but not as much as he had previously.

Even when I was first developing him as a Cyberpunk OC, he was more focused on guns/ranged weapons/stealth. It was only after playing cyberpunk, that my play-style began to influence his character and he became much more strength/melee based. And honestly? I’m really happy he did. He’s not my usual type of character, at least in that regard and it’s been fun leaning into it—and making him this character who’d rather punch first and think later. (Also not at all influenced by the fact that I’m impatient as hell and net hacking/stealth just takes so long.) He developed along-side Vic, and her character really helped me to realize how Hiro would interact with other characters—especially ones who have such different backstories/upbringing, and the process of creating him, and being able to bounce ideas off someone else (“hey wouldn’t it be cool if this happened?”) was a huge part in inspiring me, and was so helpful, having someone to respond to that character and provide their own feedback (and vice-versa). Also honestly, Hiro was created after a long period of me not being super creative/artistically motivated. It was the middle of COVID and I was so fucking bored, and not doing much outside of work and classes. So he was an amazing creative outlet for me—helped to get me to start writing again, and eventually led me to tumblr/discord and a lot of really fantastic people, and the sort of community I’d needed.

Wow, uh sorry this got so long. But man, thanks for asking--was really, really fun 😍💖

#aaaa I'm sorry this took so long #character asks #ask memes #hiro oda #thanks for your patience #🖤🖤🖤#character headcanons #cyberpunk ocs #uh got a bit carried away with this one 😅#okay tho they're long questions--ya can hardly blame me #victory delvin #tyger claws #very long post #victory delvin belongs to shinycorvidae #this bitch ended up being almost 2000 words holy shit--wish I could write actual papers this easily 😂

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myhamartiaishubris · 4 years ago

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Hey here's a Love in Between x Nirvana in Fire 2 crossover fic idea that I'm never gonna actually write:

The NiF2 elements are really just there to service the more LiB heavy story because that epilogue keeps nagging me (spoilers under the cut).

LiB and NiF universes are going to be reconciled by really lazy handwaving, aka let's pretend they're neighbouring countries.

Shanshui Du and Langya Ge are sister sects. Shanshui Du was already pretty obviously a pastiche of Langya Ge, plus a lot of the LiB aesthetic seemed to pay homage to NiF (especially 2) so I think this works. It would also make sense that an intelligence network would span nations but might need to change its name so it doesn't seem like it's encroaching too aggressively across borders (idk it makes more sense in my head). Also Wen Siyuan is basically Lin Chen's spiritual successor so (shrug emoji).

Lin Xi is travelling the world for medicinal herbs, just like she was doing at the end of NiF2. This gives her a reason to be in the LiB world, especially at Fangwai Gu since it's a medical sect. Xiao Pingjing can be with her, or he can come after receiving a message from her.

Let's say she arrives at the end of the LiB story, when Zuo Qingci comes back with a fresh stab wound (Su Yunluo should take up embroidery, she seems to really love poking holes in things) and literally two days from dying.

Time for some handwavey justification that the show didn't bother to give us: Lin Xi, being from a different country, has different experiences with poisons/diseases. Even though Zuo Qingci and his master are really experienced physicians, Lin Xi's foreign perspective and lateral thinking (as demonstrated when she's trying to cure Xiao Pingjing's poison) give her an edge.

Also, let's not forget that Su Yunluo still has all those super rare medicine ingredients. Those are probably handy.

And now, time for the illness recovery trope! Lots of coughing up blood, whump, hurt/comfort, etc etc.

While we're at it, let's do a bit of character study as well.

Xiao Pingjing has also been poisoned, lost family, and he's a former prince like Zuo Qingci (the titles are a bit confusing but the point is they're both ex-nobility/ex-military). I want them to have a conversation that really highlights how they foil one another, where Xiao Pingjing shares how he struggled with outliving his brother and father, and they deal with their survivor's guilt together. I want him to tell Zuo Qingci something along the lines of, "The thing about surviving and suffering is that you have to want to live. You have to want to live so, so hard." Also, in this crossover they'd be roughly the same age but Zuo Qingci is an older brother (to Yan Qing) while Xiao Pingjing was the baby of the family, so I think that could create some interesting dynamics, ie for Xiao Pingjing to say something like, "Older brothers are always sacrificing themselves for their siblings. But sometimes the only way to save the younger sibling is to not die for them." Idk, I want Zuo Qingci to go from grudgingly surviving for Su Yunluo to really, desperately wanting to live because he is alive, now. And I want Xiao Pingjing to acknowledge his conflicting feelings about the way his brother died for him.

But the boys can't have all the fun! Time for Lin Xi and Su Yunluo to talk. I think this one will be really interesting because Lin Xi loves Xiao Pingjing but doesn't tie her identity to him, while Su Yunluo has been so lost her entire life that she'll cling to someone as if they decide her fate—first her master, then Zuo Qingci. I want Lin Xi to help Su Yunluo realize that her life is her own, and that cutting out the "I'll die without you" aspect of her love for Zuo Qingci won't actually make her love him less.

Oh yeah and Xiao Pingjing can maybe help Zuo Qingci realize that isolating himself and only making connections to manipulate people for his own ends isn't the healthiest coping mechanism. And like, he should probably just. Be nice to Su Yunluo. Like a proper boyfriend.

Idk just!! Healthy couples!! Because goodness knows LiB desperately needs them (but NiF2 gave us honestly one of the best, healthiest, arguably the most feminist romance).

I was also thinking about a side plot where Pei Wan (you know, the "empress") is put under house arrest because of her father's crimes and Zuo Qingci hatches a plan to break her out. I just think she and Yan Qing had the beginnings of what could be two really clever and interesting characters. Pei Wan especially would probably like to captain her own fate, maybe work for Shanshui Du (even become the next sect leader?) and never, ever marry.

#anyway this idea has been turning in my head for a while now #and i just needed to get it out #i wonder if i'll ever actually write this #seems like too much work tbh #and the fandoms are so small #nif2 doesn't even have its own category on ao3 #love in between #nirvana in fire 2 #nirvana in fire: the wind blows in changlin #nirvana in fire #少年游之一寸相思 #琅琊榜 #琅琊榜2 #琅琊榜之风起长林

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 5 years ago

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Humans are Weird “Humor.”

Good morning everyone! Decided to write something nice and short today because I know a lot of you are here for that. I haven’t done it in a while, so I hope you appreciate my return :)

Scene: Dr Krill (an alien with arguably the most experience dealing with humans) is being interviewed on-record during the intergalactic convention of psycho-bio-medical science.

Q: WHat was the hardest thing for you to get used to the first time you stepped aboard a human ship?

A: To ask that question I would have to tell you about practically everything that happened to me while I was there. Living with humans is hard, and strange if you aren’t human. Everything about them is strange, and more complicated than it needs to be. For the longest time I had trouble keeping up with their communication.

Q: I was told that human communication is relatively simple.

A: Whoever told you that has never met a human, when humans speak they use oth verbal and body language to demonstrate their point, and worse than tha, they intentionally use irony, hyperbole, sarcasm and humor to communicate what they are saying.

Q: What is ... humor.

A: “\Now, as the humans would say sit back and rela because you just opened a massive can of worms.

Q What

A Exactly, human communication doesn’t make sense unless you spend time with them. You practically have to BECOME human to understand anything that’s going on. As for the case of humor, it is very complicated, and I still don’t quite understand it. I have experienced the phenomenon of humor in a way I don’t think is possible for many of my species. I’ve tried to explain it before, but it’s Ike explaining the color blue to a creature who seems primarily in infrared, they just won;t get it.

Q can you try?

A Of course I will. Humor is the appreciation of a specific situation or turn of phrase, but even that is completely inadequate to explain what humor is. It’s a….. primarily social, but not always, experience that is designed to help a group of humans empathizes, connect, or diffuse a situation. It is very important to be able to see the humor when with a group of humans because it will strengthen a social bond between you and them.

Q Can we have some examples.

A Well…. this could potentially be a long list so forgive me if I ramble on.

Humans have these things called jokes, sometimes they are stories and sometimes they are clever word play. The story joke generally begins with something that seems normal or at least plausible but the ... punch line (as the humans call it) is designed to be absurd, exaggerated or unexpected. For example you have three humans stranded on an island, one has dark hair, one has red hair, one has yellow hair. They dark hair human gets tired of this, and tries to swim back to the mainland, halfway across she drowns. Eventually the red hair human gets tired of being on the island and tries to swim as well, but she drowns halfway there. Finally the light hair human decides to try. She gets halfway to her destination, gets tired and swims back.

Q And what makes that funny. Two humans died.

A It’s funny because the last human got halfway there and swam back implying she could have made it all the way to the mainland but was too dumb to do so. Exaggerated lack of intelligence, and an absurd situation.

In the case of word play you can say something like: what do you get when you cross a centipede with a parrot. ONe of those is a creature with many legs, and the other one is a bird capable of mimicking speech. THe answer is a walk-in-talkie, a type of short-wave handheld radio.

Q I don’t get it.

A I wouldn’t expect you to. It requires a very in-depth knowledge of human history and culture. Some other things that can be considered funny to a human include.

Non-human things trying to do human things, and this includes animals exhibiting human behavior. HUmans find it very funny when less intelligent creatures exhibit human behavior. THese can include strange un-animal noises and even an animal trying to do something that normally only humans do

This rule also applies to their own offspring. A small human attempting to do something above their capabilities, like speak or, even, attempt a skill is greatly amusing to humans.

Sometimes the jokes that humans use don’t even involve irony, but are designed the annoy the person they are targeted at. In this case the targeted human might expect the answer to be clever, but instead get something that is either obvious or really stupid. In this case what is funny is not the joke itself, but the reaction to the joke. Sometimes these are called anti jokes and are specifically designed to be funny by way of not being very funny.

Q Can you demonstrate that to us?

A Yes of course.

What is big, red and bad for your teeth.

Q I don’t know, what?

A A brick

Q Well….. yes I suppose.

A You see it's funny because not only is it obvious, but it also implies that someone threw a brick at someone else’s face.

Q Humans consider other people’s pain entertaining?

A OH yes, very much. This gives rise to two types of humor. Watching others get hurt and the dark humor.

Dark human involves saying something gruesome or wildly inappropriate. I am under the impression it is a way to test how socially close a group of people is. Because if you are with an unfamiliar group of people you don’t know how they will react to a potentially offensive or dark joke, and so may not use one. If a human deployed one, they may be gaging the reaction of those around them. I would say that, on average, humans have a lot of very dark thoughts, and the knowledge that other humans also have dark thoughts brings them more socially close. IF you can make a dark joke around a human that implies than you can say other inflammatory things without getting into trouble. As I was saying humans have a lot of dark and sometimes aggressive thoughts, and the ability to vent and share them is very important for mental health, but they need to make sure they find a proper group to confide in.

An example would be: what is the difference between a truckload of bowling balls and a truck load of dead babies….. you cannot unload the bowling balls with a pitchfork

Q: That…… is…. disturbing.

A: It’s a little bit funny

On the other hand, watching other people get hurt is a complicated type of humor.

It may be funny because the other person was doing something stupid, or against the rules, and it is entertaining to see them get what was coming to them. Humans like justice.

Sometimes it is designed as a way for humans to empathize with another being. Seeing someone get hurt wincing and then laughing about it is a way of saying I feel your pain, but I’m glad it’s not me.

Of course there is the humor that involves laughing at someone you genuinely hate who got hurt. IN this case you have always desired to hit that person, but it is not socially acceptable, but watching them get hurt by something else causes a sort of….. release of tension and anger.

Sometimes humans watch just to make themselves feel better that they aren’t in that situation or their life isn’t that bad.

In large groups, this is a way for humans to practice empathy and also socially bond with those round them

Q You said earlier that it was an important tool in defusing situations…. how does that work.

A Well that its a very good question and it comes with, what I think is the most interesting aspect of human humor.

IF you’re with your friends, and one of them runs face first into a pole, you may think it is funny, but it’s only funny if the person isn’t hurt, or a couple days after the incident when the person is fine. In both cases it is a way to demonstrate relief or test to see if the other person is ok. It can even be used to let others know that you're ok.

Human history is filled with some of the greatest and most horrible tragedies imaginable, and for every one of them you will be able to find jokes. Studies have shown that the use of humor is a proper and helpful outlet to the emotions that come with tragedy. You may hear a human say that there were only two options in a situation “It was either laugh or cry.” Both include the release of emotion which can be cathartic.

Assume there is a tense meeting between group of humans Violence is about to break out, but someone makes a joke. The atmosphere is diffused and social bonding occurs allowing the humans to be less hostile towards each other, and probably get something done.

In cases of humans who have experienced past trauma, I find that the healthiest, mentally healthiest, humans have a habit of making fun of the trauma. In many cases it helps them to cope with what happened and serves as a sign to let others know that they are doing ok.

Q And there are other types of humor as well?

A If I were to talk about all of them, we would be here all day. I think the important takeaway from this is that humans use humor primarily for reasons of social bonding. If a human thinks you are funny they are more likely to like you and more likely to be your friend. Even in human relationships, the funnier you are the more likely you are to find a mate, so to anyone planning to spend time with humans, I would recommend putting a great amount of focus and study into their humorous.

#humans are space orcs #humans are space australians #humans are space oddities #humans are insane #humans are werid #earth is a deathworld #Earth is space Ausralia

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fluxedbuds · 4 years ago

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You gotta wonder if Lalna every single time he stood face to face with another version of himself, the reason WHY he would freak out so much is because it would always trigger a bit of an anxiety attack.

Because maybe a part of him still vaguely remembers Yoglabs, always recognizes Xephos just a bit more than he should. Coming face to face with another always leaves him with that heart-dropping feeling of "What if you're not the real one"

I've been unreality gaslit a couple times with "Lol you're not actually real" and it's terrifying in the right/wrong mindset. Imagine that but with Scientific Backup You Can't Ignore.

Imagine being LEFT WITH THAT. Every time that comes up you either have nobody to talk to or the people who are there are INVOLVED and won't tell you shit. Physically he's free but mentally he's very much so in his own box.

Oh yeah, there was never any question about why Lalnas dont like that theres clones of them, thats just a normal reaction!

The ‘cant ignore’ part though... He does anyways. Flux Buddies displays this excellently- even when directly told the truth, a truth he probably already knew deep down, he still refuses to accept it. Lalna will always default to denial. He just doesn’t have the ability to cope with things in healthy ways, so he just... pretends those things don’t exist.

I am a little sad that we don’t see the breaking point of that in flux buddies. Season 4 got very, very close to it, but we never really see it happen. Because Lalna knows he’s a clone, knows he’s terrified of the flux and what’s going to happen to him and his best friend, but he will never accept it without a full-on breakdown.

Other Lalnas aren’t so lucky, though. Flux Buddies Lalna is probably the healthiest and happiest any Lalna has ever been, and hes STILL real fucked up. I’m not really familiar with any other plot series containing a Lalna, but I can’t imagine they’re doing well

But all this is another reason why I’d really love to see a situation where Xephos is left trapped and helpless with a Lalna and a Honeydew, while they slowly start realizing what he’s done to them. Lalnable being the Lalna is already pretty great, but it’d be even worse for Xephos to see someone he still considers safe and a friend turn against him- and not because of any outside source! Because of him! Because of his actions! It’d be a really dark and upsetting time for all three of them and i WANT IT.

it seriously sucks when creators just.. aren’t as enthusiastic about what they’re making as their fans.

#readmore cuz this got kinda long #because its some deep and dark shit that deserves space to be looked at properly!#sometimes i think about one of the yogs finding my blog and seeing me just. writing paragraphs of psychoanalysis of them #because obviously im doing that to the Characters not Them but theres GOING to be overlap no matter how hard we both try #fuckin wild #i never say anything about someone that i wouldnt say to their face though #*alfred voice* i never say anything #theories

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rachelkaser · 4 years ago

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Stay Golden Sunday: Blind Ambitions

Rose’s blind sister Lily visits and might need more help than she’s willing to admit. The Girls have a garage sale.

Picture It...

The Girls are having a barbecue on the lanai with their guest, Rose’s sister Lily. Lily lost her sight six months ago, and is still adjusting while Rose tries not to be a mother hen. Blanche reminisces about Southern barbecues and Lily tells a story about their St. Olafian camping trips. The Girls discuss Lily’s adjustment -- she claims she can cope with most things now, and she even still watches television. When Sophia grouses about their TV being broken, Lily gives them the idea of having a garage sale to get money for a new one.

DOROTHY: Listen, mom, we cannot afford a new TV. We’re using the household money to repair the roof and repave the driveway. SOPHIA: Great, and what am I supposed to do while every other old lady on the block is watching Cosby? DOROTHY: Well, you can sit in the new driveway and hope that an amusing Black family drops by.

Later, the Girls are gathering together the things they could sell at a garage sale. Dorothy pulls out an old doll, Blanche has a hippy outfit she wore to Woodstock (the movie), and Rose finds a pair of candlesticks she decides to keep. Lily offers to put them in the alcove, and tells Rose not to be so protective. Rose apologizes -- while discreetly moving aside a lamp Lily was about to walk into. Lily then announces she’s going to her room and Dorothy and Blanche scramble to move a half-dozen boxes out of her way without her noticing, and she triumphantly declares, when she makes it to the hallway, that she doesn’t need anyone’s help.

The next day, Lily is cooking bacon on the stove, and when she turns away for a moment, the pan catches fire. She cries out for help, and Rose and Blanche come rushing in, with Rose putting out the fire with an extinguisher. Dorothy runs in as Blanche tells Lily she shouldn’t have been cooking on the stove. Lily apologizes but says it was just an accident as she sulks out. Blanche and Dorothy confront Rose, saying Lily isn’t as independent as she’s saying she is, and she might need to go back to the school for the blind, despite dropping out due to alleged boredom. Rose agrees to talk to her.

LILY: I remember when you were six years old and dad got you that puppy for your birthday. You worried because you thought her paws were too big and that the other dogs would laugh at her. ROSE: Well they did! They used to bark and point at her! LILY: Everybody pointed at her. You made her wear a bonnet and matching booties.

Rose goes to her room, where Lily is staying, and Lily reassures Rose that she’s fine. She says Rose is a worrier by nature, and Rose says not to change the subject. She tells Lily that she’s trying to do much by herself, and the independence of which she’s so proud isn’t serving her now. Lily finally breaks and tells Rose she just wants things to go back to the way they were, but they’re not going to. Rose tells her she needs help, and Lily begs Rose to come back home and live with her before bursting into tears.

Later, Rose tells the Girls that she’s seriously thinking about moving with Lily to Chicago, but both Blanche and Rose are skeptical that it’ll actually help Lily. Dorothy accuses her of doing it out of guilt, and Blanche relates a story of how she lost a male friend because her husband made her feel guilty about it. Sophia has a slightly more relevant story about how she struggled to get back on her feet after her stroke. It took Dorothy pushing her to be independent for her to actually make the effort, and Sophia tells Rose she needs to help her sister “to help herself.” Rose goes off to think some more.

DOROTHY: *after Blanche rebuffs a customer’s offer of $1.25 for her Elvis shakers* Blanche, I can’t believe that you did that! I mean, they’re just a silly salt and pepper shaker. BLANCHE: The King is gone, Dorothy. But we must cherish the things he left behind. His movies, his songs... DOROTHY: And his seasonings.

At the garage sale, every time someone shows an interest in one of the Girls’ things, they react badly. Rose isn’t willing to give up her teddy, Mr. Longfellow; Blanche believes her Elvis salt and pepper shakers must be cherished; and Dorothy squabbles with a teenager over a hockey stick used by Bobby Hull. They come to the conclusion that they’re not willing to part with any of their things, and decide to just pay for a new TV in installments. Blanche and Dorothy go to shoo out their customers.

Lily enters and tells Rose how much she appreciates Rose being willing to help her. She asks Rose to get her a glass of water, and Rose freezes before reminding Lily that she’s capable of getting a glass of water — and if she isn’t, she needs professional help that Rose can’t give. She’s made up her mind: She’s not going to Chicago. Lily gets angry and accuses Rose of turning her back on her, storming out.

DOROTHY: *after the third time Rose leaves the house and returns* Come on now. Come on now, get out of here. You’ve come back more times than Shirley MacLaine.

Two months later, Rose is on her way to visit Lily. She’s sure that Lily is going to pressure her into living with her again and is nervous because it was hard enough to refuse the first time. The Girls encourage her to stick to her guns. She leaves, but not without kissing her friends goodbye. When Rose arrives at the airport later, she thanks the flight attendant for all the extras they provided her (including pillows, Dramamine, and 10 packs of smokehouse almonds).

Rose is surprised to see Lily at the airport, waiting for her. Lily introduces her seeing-eye dog, Becky, who Rose of course melts over (side note: I don’t think you’re supposed to pet service dogs the way Rose does here, but considering the dog is likely not an actual service dog, I’ll excuse it). Lily apologizes to Rose, saying Rose did the right thing by pushing her. She went back to the school for the blind, and is finally in a place where she can take care of herself -- with Becky’s help, of course. She and Becky take the lead to the baggage claim, with Lily tossing off a one-liner that has Rose a bit concerned:

ROSE: I’m so proud of you. LILY: Oh this is nothing! What till you see me drive home!

“If it’s a choice between the two of them, let the blind one make change.”

After Blanche and Dorothy had their turns with sisterly conflict episodes, it’s now Rose’s turn. This time it’s not long-standing animosity or bubbling resentment that sets the two against each other, but a new life change that prompts an adaptation in the relationship. As depressing as it may be, I think Lily and Rose might be the healthiest sister relationship in the show’s history, not that that’s saying much. Lily is one of the more memorable guest characters on the show, mostly because she’s given room to have complex emotions.

In the episode, Lily is played by Polly Holiday, whose main claim to fame is playing Flo “Kiss My Grits” Castleberry on the sitcom Alice -- a catchphrase I’ve always found a little baffling, but at least it’s memorable. If you’d asked me based on what little I’d seen of Alice if she’d be capable of giving one of the most memorable guest performances on Golden Girls ever, I admit I’d have been a little skeptical -- and I’d be wrong, because she really brings it. It’s not often an actor can be in a scene with Betty White and completely command all the attention (and probably some of the credit goes to White for being a great scene partner).

SOPHIA: Why are we cooking outdoors? DOROTHY: Ma, we’re having a barbecue. SOPHIA: You know what they call cooking meat over an open fire in Sicily? DOROTHY: No, what? SOPHIA: Poverty.

I appreciate what the episode does, making Lily an . . . well, I don’t want to say antagonist, but definitely the person who’s causing the conflict. She’s not actually dealing with her problems, but she wants to look like she is because she’s too proud to ask for help -- and when she finally does, it’s from a person who’s not qualified to help her. The first time I watched this episode, I was a naïve youngster who didn’t understand why Rose didn’t go help Lily -- I felt that I would, under the circumstances. Now that I’m an adult, I understand better why that situation is untenable, because Rose would have to quit her job and, given that she can’t really teach Lily to be independent, would never be able to have her own life because Lily would be dependent on her.

The show is also not shy about showing how Lily’s lack of control over her situation is making her lash out, and that this isn’t excusable: During the pivotal scenes between Rose and Lily, Lily does everything she can to deflect taking responsibility for herself. She tells Rose, “You’d be worried if you couldn’t find anything to worry about” when Rose comes to check on her (keep in mind, she’d been screaming for help mere minutes earlier), begs Rose to fix the problem for her, and finally escalates to accusing Rose of abandoning her when Rose tries to get her to take care of herself.

DOROTHY: Will you look at this? I got this doll on my 10th birthday. I can’t believe I’ve kept her all these years. *Sophia enters behind her* Her hair’s falling out, her clothes are all worn, she smells of mothballs... SOPHIA: Hey, I may not be Ann-Margret, but I’m still your mother!

There is a difference between toughing something out and truly coping with it, and I think anyone who’s gone through a major life change would agree. The difference lies in confronting the reality of the situation. For most of the episode, Lily adamantly refuses to do that, and Rose enables her -- the other Girls recognize that and try to help Rose see it. For me, the best (and hardest) part of the episode to watch is that little moment in the kitchen when Rose says Lily is very independent, and Dorothy firmly says, “No she’s not, Rose.”

I’m not disabled myself, so I looked up details on common reactions to late-onset disabilities. We never know how Lily became blind -- if it was something that had been coming on for a while or if it was the result of some kind of trauma -- but I found an article on the Royal National Institute for Blind People’s website that clarified what Lily is going through: Grief. If you watch closely, you can see Lily’s going through a few different stages of grief -- denial, anger, and fear. While her situation is resolved mostly off-camera, it’s nice to see that she’s allowed to have those emotions.

ROSE: *about Lily* She served three terms on the city council, and she was the first woman in St. Olaf’s to ever have a pilot’s license. BLANCHE: Oh really? Well we have something in common, Lily. I was the first woman in my hometown ever to have a pilot! DOROTHY: Blanche’s bed is next to the X-15 at the Space and Aviation Museum.

Still, as much as I like the episode, I do think there are a few parts where the writing isn’t as strong as it could be. Most of the episode is tipped on the serious side rather than the comedic side. The garage sale scene is really funny, but doesn’t make sense. Presumably the Girls went through all their stuff before putting it out on the lanai, to confirm they wanted to sell it and to price it. Why is it that only on the day of the sale do they decide they want to keep all their bric-a-brac? Also, I’m not exactly sure how they plan to get a new TV with a $60 down payment and paying “the rest of it” off on time. Side note: The scene of them frantically clearing Lily’s path of boxes is funny, but it’s really their fault for leaving boxes of stuff lying around while a blind guest is trying to navigate their house.

While the episode is balanced really well between the four Girls, I think Blanche’s major part of the episode -- her extended story about her male friend Andrew (an excellent lover . . . no, riveter) -- doesn’t really serve either the episode or the scene it’s in, which is a recurring problem with first-season episodes. Her anecdotes from the opening scene about barbecues with the Darcy triplets (Hank, Beau, and . . . Dove?) are much funnier and feel more appropriate to the scene.

BLANCHE: *about Sophia’s stroke* But you got better. SOPHIA: Yeah, because [Dorothy] stopped coddling me. She screamed, she hollered, day and night. She made me do my therapy. She forced me to rebuild my life because she knew I could. And for that I’ll always be grateful. DOROTHY: Aw, thanks, Ma. SOPHIA: I only have one question: Now that I’m better, why do you still scream and holler at me?

Also, bit of dubious-but-fun trivia for you: I already said that Holliday is great as Lily. That said, she allegedly wasn’t the first choice for the role. If the information in Golden Girls Forever is correct, the person who the producers originally wanted to play Lily, the actress whose name was thrown around early in the process . . . was Lucille Ball. Yes, that Lucille Ball.

Keep in mind I couldn’t find a secondary source for this information. Contrary to the impression I probably give, I don’t take Golden Girls Forever as gospel and I generally do try to confirm what’s written via some other source. If I can’t, I don’t want to present it to you as fact. So allegedly the reason Ball declined the role was that she didn’t want to do too many serious roles, and I never thought I’d say this, but I’m glad Polly Holliday got the role instead of Lucille Ball. If she had, I think the whole episode, including the dramatic scenes, would have been less about the characters and performances, and more about “OMG, that’s Lucy!”

Episode rating: 🍰🍰🍰 (three cheesecake slices out of five)

Favorite part of the episode:

Sophia shows how much patience she has for haggling:

CUSTOMER: How much? SOPHIA: Two bucks. Get wild. Treat yourself. CUSTOMER: Nah, I’ll give you a dollar-fifty. SOPHIA: What does this look like, Baghdad? *pulls vase out of her hands* Get the hell out of here! DOROTHY: Ma, that’s no way to sell things! SOPHIA: Hey, go to Neiman Marcus sometime, see if they treat you any better.

#golden girls #stay golden #rose nylund #sophia petrillo #blanche devereaux #dorothy zbornak #stay golden sunday #blind ambitions #picture it #s01e23

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askweisswolf · 5 years ago

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Rest for the Weary (Elsamaren, one-shot)

FF.net AO3

When it was all said and done, a part of Elsa was almost… disappointed.

Admittedly, it wasn’t like she had expected much when she had traveled to Atohallan. Her journey had only started at all to try and get a voice to stop bothering her, particularly when she was finally able to get a decent night’s sleep; everything else that had followed as a result of it had been, well, completely unexpected. And maybe that was the part of her that was still a child speaking, really—the part of her that still yearned for adventure, for a life changing revelation, for the moment the hero of the story became something more than what they had been when everything had started. She had certainly gotten that in spades, and yet…

Well. She supposed some part of her had hoped this whole ‘fifth spirit’ business would have been a little more… mystical, perhaps. Not too much, obviously; she still wanted to be able to age and grow old with her loved ones, and that didn’t seem to be an issue. She still needed to perform the same number of human functions to keep herself going, and really only seemed to have a new sense of inner peace, a slightly better grasp of her magic now that she had been to its source, and a tolerance for the cold that put her previous comfort level to shame.

She’d mostly just hoped to kind of do away with some of those human functions. Maybe not so much the eating part—she liked chocolate, okay—but sleep? She could have done with not needing to sleep anymore. At least needing to sleep a little less in order to function? That would have been nice. She would have liked that.

It was fine, though.

It was. Sure, she was in a new place with new people, but that was all by her choice! She was settling in, she was adjusting, she was getting used to it. She had a better grasp of herself than she’d ever had in her whole life, a level of peace and satisfaction she’d never felt in Arendelle despite her loved ones. Trouble sleeping was… not a new issue for her, exactly, even if she wasn’t enjoying its sudden return, but she had slept poorly for thirteen years. She could adjust to it.

She could.

She would.

Elsa had spent her whole life with questions, with having to accept that at one some level she might have to one day settle for just not knowing anything about herself. Now she had her answers, now she had her space, now she had her sister safe and happy with the rest of her family. She wouldn’t give that up, not for anything in the world, not after how much it had taken for her and Anna to get to the places they were at now.

If all of that meant that her sleep would go back to the fractured, uneasy state it had been in for thirteen years, then she would accept it as her lot in life. She’d survived it once before, and she knew that she could survive it again. Not being able to sleep wasn’t a new thing, for her. It would be harder for her to go back to it after three years of a relatively decent sleep schedule (barring the occasional nightmare), but Elsa had nothing but faith in herself at this point.

She could handle this.

She could.

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The thing was, Elsa was… sort of used to not sleeping.

Before, she’d only slept all the way through the night with no issues until she was eight years old. Then the accident had happened, then the separation had happened for the next thirteen years, and it… it wasn’t something that she really liked to think about, because for the most part it was well and truly behind her now.

--”MAMA! PAPA!” She screamed and she screamed, Anna still and cold in her arms, but no one was coming. No one seemed to hear her screams, no one seemed to notice or care, and all Elsa could do was clutch at her little sister and sob until it felt like her throat bled from it as the whole castle froze around her.--

For the most part. Elsa was still only human; she could admit that she did occasionally still have nightmares, the harsh reminder of what could have happened at several points in her life if things had gone differently. And yes, maybe she had handled those nightmares for the longest time by trying to sleep as little as possible. Not the healthiest coping mechanism, but she hadn’t exactly been a shining example of that for most of her life. She’d found ways to keep herself awake, found ways to function on only a few hours of sleep, and for the most part they had worked.

In hindsight, she really should have considered that if she was going to go back to her old habits that the Northuldra wouldn’t have the same options immediately on hand.

It was fine, though. She was nothing if not resourceful, and she did still have a few people she could lean on in her new home to work this out.

“You said you wanted these leaves and berries for what, exactly?” Honeymaren asked, taking a moment to double check what she had picked from the bush before passing it along to Elsa. She knew the forest like the back of her hand, but with someone new it never hurt to be sure.

“There was a tea I used to drink when I lived in Arendelle to help with my nerves, sometimes.” The lie came too easily for comfort and settled a little too heavily on her chest at the subtle way the other woman’s eyes softened in understanding, but Elsa comforted herself in the knowledge that it wasn’t a complete lie. She accepted the items with a quiet murmur of thanks, tucking them into her pouch. “I don’t expect it to be exactly the same, obviously, but something close to it here would be nice if I ever feel the urge.”

“Of course.” Honeymaren absently ran her hand along her reindeer’s neck, her face thoughtful as she considered other parts of the forest. “We have plenty of other options in the forest if those don’t work for you, so let me know. We can try those instead, or ask Yelena to come up with something for you if nothing else works.” She threw the blonde a grin as she swung up onto her reindeer, settling comfortably on the animal’s back. “We’re nothing if not resourceful.”

Elsa felt that heaviness against her chest increase, and inhaled quietly to try and relieve the pressure.

She should have been honest; she knew that. The Northuldra were her mother’s people, were her people, and they had been nothing but kind and patient since she had decided to stay with them. Honeymaren in particular had proven herself to be a quick and steady friend, and they shared plenty of experience as elder siblings. It meant a surprisingly width of topics for discussion, and Elsa treasured the unexpectedly easy connection she’d established with the other woman.

This was her problem, though. Anna had been the only one in her life to know the extent of her insomnia, and that had only been because of her seemingly endless supply of both patience and stubbornness. Elsa wouldn’t ask someone else to shoulder the burden, not when she had plenty of ways already to deal with it.

So instead of being honest she adjusted her pack more comfortably against her hip, stepping closer to Honeymaren’s reindeer and smiling slightly when the beast lowered his nose into her hand for pets. “I wanted to thank you again,” she said. “This is such a small thing in comparison, and I know I pulled you away from bigger tasks the village.”

The brunette shrugged with an easy smile, leaning down to offer her hand. Elsa hesitated a moment, debating the merits of calling for the Nokk instead of taking up additional space on her friend’s mount, but she was the one offering. They were in the middle of the forest anyway, away from an easy body of water, and it really would be asking too much of the Nokk to come all the way out here just to carry her back to the village. Surely there was no harm in this, right? It wouldn’t insult the spirits or anything?

You’re overthinking this, a voice that sounded suspiciously like Anna said, echoing teasingly through her mind. Just take the pretty girl’s hand and don’t worry about it.

The sudden inclusion of ‘pretty’ in her thought processes made Elsa flush, but it was enough to spur her into action so that hopefully Honeymaren wouldn’t notice the brief lapse or her pause in action; she grabbed the other woman’s hand with more confidence than she felt, pushing herself up onto the reindeer’s back at the same moment she felt herself being pulled along—oh my, Honeymaren was stronger than she looked—stilling herself as the animal gave a shake before settling.

“You’re fine,” the brown-eyed woman said and ah, okay, she was speaking now. Elsa needed to focus on that, and not on the reindeer shifting under her or why she was suddenly using words like strong and pretty to think about literally one of her only friends in the Northuldra. “Honestly, I could probably make a good argument for this being more important than my duties in the village since I’m helping out the fifth spirit and all, if anyone asked me about it when I get home.”

“Anyone being Ryder, I take it?”

Honeymaren let out a warm laugh at that, spurring her reindeer gently into an easy trot. “Are you kidding? Ryder loves looking after the herd himself. I think he has more fun that way, honestly.”

“Really?” Elsa carefully gripped her friend’s hips, mindful of the distance between them. “No wonder he and Kristoff hit it off immediately.”

“Exactly. So I promise, Elsa, I’m fine. I doubt anyone even noticed I was gone today. This wasn’t a problem at all.”

“Because you get to go back and brag that you helped the fifth spirit?”

“One half of the fifth spirit, technically speaking. And nah, I just enjoy getting the chance to help out my friend.”

Elsa sucked in a quiet breath at the way her heart skipped a beat. Honeymaren had said those words so easily, without thinking about it. She meant it, too; that much was obvious from the warmth in her tone. Much like Anna, such kindness seemed to come to her like breathing, without any thought. It only made the lie sit even heavier in her chest, as much as she tried to remind herself that it was only a small one and partially true anyway.

“Well,” she said when words finally decided to cooperate, “thank you...”

“That’s the third time you’ve thanked me for this.”

“… for the last time, I promise. I’m just… very grateful. Hopefully this will help, and I always enjoy spending time with a friend.”

If Honeymaren could do it so easily, Elsa could too. She was an adult, this wasn’t something that was worth overthinking, and the other woman had said it first anyway! It was fine. Totally normal. Adults did things like this all the time, and she wasn’t going to get into her own head about it too much when they’d had a perfectly fine relationship so far. She was too tired to go into this spiral.

Elsa really needed that cup of tea, was the point.

As the reindeer picked up its pace—they must have been close to home, with the animal becoming so eager—Elsa’s grip on Honeymaren’s hips tightened. Her brain was already hazy from a lack of sleep and its own running around in circles, and so she didn’t pay attention to her friend’s reply. Had she been thinking more clearly she might have considered what she did next, but… well, she was tired, the reindeer wasn’t moving too quickly, and the huntress she was holding on to was really soft and warm.

She dropped her head to the back of the brunette’s shoulder, murmuring a soft “Sorry” that she wasn’t even sure she heard, her eyes fluttering shut when the woman didn’t immediately move to dislodge her, wrapping her arms around her waist for a better grip to help her keep still. Had she been a little more aware she might have heard the way Honeymaren’s breath briefly caught, but once she was comfortable Elsa dozed off almost embarrassingly quickly.

Honeymaren opened her mouth, hesitated, then slowly closed it as she realized the blonde was asleep. She sighed quietly, slowing the reindeer down into a steady walk despite the animal’s eagerness, and dropped her hand down to where Elsa’s were now clasped against her stomach, giving a gentle squeeze.

She didn’t know if this new mixture would do the trick, but she hoped it would. She hadn’t wanted to call attention to it—the former queen of Arendelle didn’t seem to want anyone to know, despite how sharp-eyed Northuldra hunters were—but she had noticed the circles under Elsa’s eyes, the slight slump to her shoulders, the way her eyes would occasionally go cloudy and unfocused. Hopefully they would get back, make the tea, and it could help the fifth spirit get some sleep. She looked like she needed it more and more, lately.

And if this mixture didn’t work, well, Honeymaren would be more than happy to ride out with her again to try something else. That was what friends did, right?

Right.

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The tea did help, a little bit. It wasn’t a fix-it for the full problem, but in truth Elsa hadn’t expected it to be; based off of her past experiences, she had figured the brew would either help her more easily slip into an ultimately restless sleep, or it would would suppress her exhaustion for a few hours so she could at least give the appearance of being well rested and functioning. It hadn’t taken her long to realize this particular brew was the latter, and that was fine. Better than fine, really, because drinking it brought back memories of when she’d been young, early on in the separation, and Iduna had started brewing her the same tea she’d often seen her mother drinking to help her cope.

In hindsight, she wondered now if her mother’s tea had been a modified Northuldra mixture. It would certainly explain the similarities, and the thought gave Elsa an unexpected pang; Iduna had always seemed so composed and put together, and there was something humbling in the realization that she might have also struggled with insomnia. It seemed in more and more ways lately, she was learning she was truly her mother’s daughter.

The point was, the tea helped and the fact that it reminded her of her mother was an unexpected but pleasant bonus. It was a shot of energy almost straight into her veins, and for several days it was enough to keep her going despite the fact that her sleep was getting patchier. It was almost ironic, really, that in the end what ultimately did her in was that she’d been sleeping so well for the past three years and hadn’t had a drop of tea in as long that she’d forgotten that inevitably, things like this also had a crash point—that moment when the body began to adjust and the effect started to wear off, usually at the worst possible moment because the universe had a sick sense of humor.

Elsa was finishing up a visit to Ataohallen when she started to feel the effects of it. She’d gone out to the magical river today at Anna’s request—her sister’s last letter had included a question on the merits of gradually introducing Arendelle citizens to the spirits of the forest, to try and further open up the line of communication between the kingdom and the Northuldra—to try and explore the memories, to see if such a thing had at least been discussed before their grandfather had shown himself to be a traitorous snake. She would leave the actual talking to Anna when she floated the idea to Yelena, but she’d figured that a look through the memories could at be a good reference for her sister to have on hand.

She was just emerging from the glacier and calling for the Nokk when she felt it; that sudden drain of energy that made her stumble, and she rested a steadying hand on the water spirit’s neck as it huffed softly with concern. “I’m okay,” she said, and gave a gentle pat when this didn’t soothe the beast; if anything her words seemed to agitate the Nokk further, and it pushed its nose into her shoulder, ears flicking back. “I’m okay,” she repeated, straightening up, and that finally seemed to do the trick. She wasn’t okay, not really, but she couldn’t linger on it; she still needed to get across the Dark Sea and back to the tribe, and then she would recover from the crash.

Even soothed the Nokk realized something was still wrong, because when Elsa went to try and pull herself onto its back it was having none of it; it pushed her away gently and bowed, turning to nudge her into place and only moving once it was certain she had a good grip on its mane. It tried to move slowly, clearly mindful of its rider’s weakness, but the former queen knew that wouldn’t be enough. She dug her heels into its sides, urging it on, and rolled her eyes when it snorted in protest. “If you go slow I’m going to pass out before we even make it across the sea,” she retorted. “I’ve had this happen to me before. We need to move quickly.”

The Nokk didn’t look back at her as it picked up its pace, but the way it snorted as its ears flicked back still gave Elsa the sense that she was being judged for what she had just said. If she’d had more energy she would have been annoyed to be judged by a spirit for how she had lived her human life up until this point, but it wasn’t exactly wrong and she didn’t have the energy to be annoyed. Instead she dropped her forehead to the spirit’s watery mane, letting her eyes drift shut.

It felt like only a second later when Elsa was jolted rudely awake by a sharp snort and the Nokk—veering, suddenly, and that was the moment that she realized she had fallen deeply enough asleep to start falling off the water spirit’s back, and the beast had attempted to change course to keep her from plunging into the sea. It had clearly been longer, though, as they were definitely further across the Dark Sea than she remembered being when she’d closed her eyes, and she grimaced and shifted to settle once more on her mount’s back, tangling her fingers in its mane. It didn’t actually do much, but it gave her fading mind something to focus on. If she, one half of the bridge between humans and spirits, ended up falling off of her steed and into the ocean, she’d never live it down. She supposed if nothing else, she was lucky that no one from the tribe was close enough to see it.

Of course, the moment she thought that was the moment she blinked enough sleep and water out of her eyes to realize they were close enough to the shore for her to see the telltale purple flame trail of a certain small fire spirit, and then she saw the reindeer that was easily keeping pace with Bruni as the salamander charged onto the beach, Honeymaren on its back. So she stood corrected; if she had fallen off of the Nokk and into the Dark Sea, at least one person would have seen her, and of course it would have been her one pretty friend in the whole forest.

It was at this moment that Elsa finally began to accept that she was maybe too tired to process all of this.

Bruni squeaked an anxious greeting as the Nokk’s hooves touched black pebbles, and the sound was enough for Elsa to smile weakly. “I’m okay,” she said, but the words didn’t come out nearly as reassuringly as she wanted them to when she practically melted off of her steed’s back—haha, she melted off of the Nokk, see, it was funny because she had ice powers and she was melting off of the water spirit and whoa, okay, her brain was definitely getting too fuzzy for her to think this was hilarious—and felt her legs buckle the moment her bare feet hit solid ground.

“Elsa! Elsa, hey, whoa.” Honeymaren’s voice was soft and suddenly she had gone from standing beside her reindeer to gathering the blonde up into her arms to keep her from falling flat on her face, and Elsa sighed sleepily and nuzzled into her as she briefly processed the fact that she hadn’t even seen her friend move. “Hey, you’re okay,” she said, and normally being this close to another person who wasn’t Anna would have made Elsa nervous, but right now all she could really focus on was that Honeymaren was soft and warm and she smelled really good. It was almost enough to make her drift off again.

Almost but not quite, because Honeymaren was being rude and straightening up, adjusting her grip on the exhausted woman in her arms. “I’ve got you,” she murmured. “What happened? Bruni came up to me and Ryder in a total state, I thought you were hurt or something, did… did you nearly fall off of the Nokk back there?”

Elsa opened her mouth to firmly deny that had happened, but the Nokk snorted sharply behind her and she shifted and cracked open an eye to glare at it over her shoulder. “I didn’t hit the water,” she finally settled on after thinking about it for a moment, settling back into her previous place and closing her eye.

Honeymaren didn’t say a word, but the slightly arched brow as she looked Elsa over said everything she was thinking. The former queen didn’t particularly like the look on her friend’s face, so instead of continuing to look at it she shifted and buried her face into the spot where her neck met her shoulder, shifting to cradle Bruni to her chest as the salamander bounced into her hand and chirped a greeting. “Traitor,” she whispered, and he simply squeaked and curled happily into the ice crystals of her dress.

“Right.” This close together, Elsa felt Honeymaren’s sigh, something warm and gentle against her hair. “I guess the tea hasn’t been helping, and… I don’t suppose you somehow have enough energy to at least hold on to the Nokk and ride back on your own?”

Elsa tilted her head and opened her eyes, blinking sleepily and smiling as she met Honeymaren’s gaze. “You have pretty eyes.”

“The tea definitely hasn’t been helping and you don’t have any energy, got it,” Honeymaren practically yelped as her face darkened, her voice almost reaching a pitch that might have made any canines in the area whimper in protest; as it was, the only response she got was an annoyed squeak from Bruni as he glared at her from the comfort of Elsa’s ice. “Please tell me that you have a good grip on Bruni right now, Your Majesty.”

“’m not queen anymore, Honey.”

“Formerly Your Majesty, got it, just—hold on to him, I don’t want to get accidentally burned for this.” Honeymaren took a deep breath, half for what she was about to do and half to compose herself, and in the next second Elsa found herself being jolted at least somewhat awake as the reindeer herder shifted them and swept the blonde up into her arms like she weighed almost nothing at all.

Oh, my. Honeymaren was definitely stronger than she looked, especially considering the fact that she was shorter than Elsa and still lifted her with practically no effort. She managed to keep her grip on Bruni despite the sudden shift, and the tiny fire spirit let out a delighted squeal as he was pulled along for the ride, purple flames beginning to flicker along his back. Elsa was thankfully awake enough now to catch that, and soothingly ran a finger over his back as she hummed. Much to her everlasting relief, the flames flickered out as quickly as they’d come to life, and she breathed a little easier, her eyes drifting shut as she was reminded that she was surrounded by warmth and still incredibly tired.

Honeymaren grimaced as the Nokk bowed for her, but a quick glance at her reindeer confirmed that getting both herself and a sleeping fifth spirit onto her back would take too much time and energy. She stepped away only long enough to send the animal back to the herd, then cautiously made her way over to the Nokk and eased onto its back, sucking in a breath as it smoothly rose up onto all fours. Her grip on Elsa tightened, and her free hand tangled in the Nokk’s mane; it didn’t feel like water or ice, and she swallowed.

She paused only long enough to look down at Elsa, to confirm that she was settled and comfortable, and softened for a moment when she saw just how deeply asleep the other woman was. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” she sighed as she took off her hat, absently placing it on Elsa’s head and chuckling weakly as the other woman murmured in approval and nuzzled further into her.

She hoped her friend enjoyed the nap; it looked like they would need to have a talk when she woke up.

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As Elsa slowly but surely drifted back into the word of wakefulness, she became aware of two things. First, she was warm; at some point after she had fallen asleep, someone—probably Honeymaren—had wrapped a blanket around her. Bruni was still tucked into her chest, practically purring, and he let out a happy little trill as she ran her finger sleepily down his back in greeting. Even besides the fire spirit and the blanket, there was warmth on the top of her head, but slowly waking up as she was, she found she was in no rush to remove it.

Second, her pillow was breathing.

That jolted her awake, and she yelped in surprise as her sudden movement made the reindeer that she’d been leaning into huff in protest. “Oh, hi,” she managed, cautiously shifting to look at the animal. “You, uh, wouldn’t happen to be Honeymaren’s, would you?”

“She’s mine.” As if Elsa’s sentence had summoned her Honeymaren swung down from the tree her reindeer had been resting against, dropping easily onto the ground and brushing leaves out of her hair. “I called her back when I realized you probably wouldn’t want everyone to see you like this.”

“I—thank you. How long was I sleeping?” Honeymaren wasn’t wearing her usual hat, and Elsa must have still been a little asleep to be so fascinated by the way the brunette tucked loose strands of hair back behind her ear.

“A few hours. Seems like you really needed it. I was gathering some new herbs while you were sleeping, but...” Honeymaren shrugged, sitting down next to the blonde. “From what I saw, I don’t think any brew we come up with is going to help.”

Elsa didn’t wince, but only because she’d had a lifetime of learning how to conceal her emotions. It might not have been the healthiest coping mechanism for her in the long run but in moments like this, it certainly had its benefits. “I didn’t fall off the Nokk, Honeymaren.”

“No, but you still almost fell off of it, I saw that clear as day. And then I got to you and you were all...” Honeymaren trailed off, blinking a few times, and quickly shook her head. “Look, the point is, you almost fell of the water spirit. I didn’t imagine that.”

Elsa frowned and searched her memory, but everything from her near fall off the Nokk was frustratingly fuzzy. That… wasn’t a good sign, and this time she did wince. The slight movement was enough to stir Bruni, who squeaked softly, and she gently shifted him. “No,” she sighed, “you aren’t in trouble. I’m not happy about what you did, but I know you were just trying to help. Thank you.”

“You aren’t happy that he could sense you were in trouble and he went to find you help,” Honeymaren said flatly, and too late the former queen realized how what she’d said would sound like to another person.

“I wasn’t in trouble,” Elsa protested, her brain too fuzzy still to make the connection on why arguing this was causing that same heaviness in her chest from before. “I made it back to shore.”

“You almost fell off the Nokk.”

“But I didn’t!”

“I’m not done yet,” Honeymaren snapped, and Elsa was at least smart enough to stay quiet as Bruni perked up at the sharpness in the other woman’s voice. “You almost fell of the Nokk and only stayed on because it could sense what was happening, and when you made it to shore you practically collapsed into my arms. You could barely stand on your own two feet. And after all of that, you’re seriously going to look me in the eye right now and say you weren’t happy I was there because of Bruni?”

The little salamander had clearly learned his name, because the sound of it from her friend’s lips made him release a squeak that sounded far too agreeing for Elsa’s rapidly clearing mind. She lightly flicked the back of his head to show her displeasure as she turned everything over, trying to think of the best possible way to approach this. This was a delicate situation; Honeymaren was clearly upset, and the blonde liked her enough to want to try and soothe that while still making it obvious that despite how it’d looked she’d had the situation well enough in hand. She was used to crashes like this, if not them happening in exactly this type of situation.

“This isn’t new to me,” she ultimately decided on, because it was the truth. “I’ve had crashes like this before.”

This was apparently the wrong thing to say as Honeymaren’s eyes sharpened to an almost pure gold, and despite being the one with ice powers Elsa swore the air around them suddenly dropped several degrees. She didn’t shiver, but it was enough for her to draw the blanket a little tighter around her. She ran her fingers through her hair—an old nervous habit from when she’d kept it tied back in a braid during her ruling years in Arendelle—and jolted slightly when her fingers brushed warm fur. Almost comically late into the moment, she realized she was wearing a hat.

Honeymaren’s hat.

Honeymaren had carried her here and set her down, had taken the time to wrap her up in a blanket and put her hat on her in some attempt to keep her warm, presumably to help her sleep a little easier. The same Honeymaren who hadn’t even hesitated to excuse herself from her chores when Elsa had asked her for help looking for herbs. That very same Honeymaren who was now, judging from her expression and the feeling in the air, rather upset about the revelation that this was apparently a normal situation for the fifth spirit.

Oh.

Oh, dear.

“… Can you forget that I said that and let me try again?” the former queen asked, her voice weak to her own ears.

“I kind of want to talk about it, actually,” Honeymaren growled, in the tone of voice Elsa had learned to associate with the times she was making Anna upset because she wasn’t taking care of herself or the times she was risking her personal safety. She didn’t know what it said about her habits that she immediately recognized that tone.

“There’s really nothing to talk about.”

“Crashing so hard you can’t stand seems like something you should talk about! Elsa, have you slept at all since I helped you find those herbs?”

Elsa swallowed and eased Honeymaren’s hat off of her head, twisting it nervously in her hands. Bruni slid down her dress with a delighted squeak when she let him go and immediately settled comfortably on one of her legs, but she didn’t pay him any mind as she tried to think of a good way to admit that she hadn’t been entirely honest with her friend from the start.

There was no good way to admit that, was the thing.

“Technically speaking,” she finally said, “the tea did help. Just not with, um… sleeping. Exactly.”

Honeymaren’s eyes narrowed. “Explain.”

She kept her eyes down, focused on the way she was holding on to the brunette’s hat. “It’s an old brew that Mother taught me,” she said. “Depending on how you mix it, it can make it easier for you to fall asleep, but it’s not a way of making sure that you stay asleep. The way that I preferred using it—the way that I usually saw her using it herself—was that it gives you enough energy to just kind of… push through needing to sleep.”

It hadn’t been Iduna’s fault, not really. For all the talk now of how Elsa had been a gift to her, a reward for a Northuldran girl saving an Arendellian boy, her mother hadn’t actually expected her to be born with her magic, and she certainly hadn’t expected there to one day be an accident that would completely shatter the perfect control her eldest had demonstrated until that fateful night. Perhaps if Agnarr had been the one trapped on the other side of the mists, and the sisters had been born into the tribe instead of the kingdom… but that was a what if that Elsa didn’t feel like spiraling into. It wasn’t what her life had ultimately been, and in the end, she felt like she’d had a pretty good life so far.

It hadn’t been Iduna’s fault that Elsa had been the one who had started to panic, had started to push her parents away along with her sister out of fear of hurting them both with the ice that came as easily to her as breathing. It hadn’t been her fault that the nightmares had kept coming, again and again nearly every night, and she wasn’t even able to soothe her daughter with the comforting embrace a mother always longed to give her child in those situations. The tea Iduna had brewed had been an imperfect solution to a problem with no easy answer, a coping mechanism she had learned herself and had passed on in the hopes that it could at least do something.

“It did help,” Elsa murmured, staring at Honeymaren’s hat. “A little bit. Then Anna found out about my trouble sleeping one night after we were back from the North Mountain, and she managed to wean me off of it.”

“Until you came here,” Honeymaren said, her voice soft. When Elsa cautiously risked peeking at her, the sharpness and anger had faded; now there was something soft, almost painfully understanding in her golden-brown eyes.

Elsa couldn’t take it; couldn’t take the implication of it, and so she looked down at her friend’s hat again. “I’m just having a little trouble adjusting to a new place,” she sighed. “I should have realized this would probably happen, honestly. This is my first time away from Arendelle for so long.”

She lightened her tone on those last words, lifting her eyes with a smile that she hoped was stronger than she felt, and met the other woman’s gaze. Honeymaren smiled back, but it was weak and it didn’t reach her eyes, and Elsa didn’t want to think about it. She didn’t want to think about any of this. It was too much, all of it; the exhaustion, the crash, the way her friend had gone from being frustrated to being so understanding--

–“Your sister? She returned from the mountain weak and cold! She said that you froze her heart!” No. “I tried to save her, but it was too late! Her skin was ice, her hair turned white!” No. “Your sister is dead! Because of you!”

“No.”

It wasn’t the wind or the cold that tore the air from her lungs, in that moment; it wasn’t those things that made her cry out, made her fall to her knees. No, no, Anna, dead? No, please, not because of her, please. Anything but that, please.

She heard the sound of metal, but she didn’t turn, didn’t rise. She didn’t need to see the moment Hans lifted his sword, and she didn’t care enough to even open her eyes. It would be a quick death, a painless death. Unfitting for a monster.

Anna had deserved that. Not her. Never her.--

“I should go check on the other spirits,” Elsa said, passing Honeymaren’s hat back to her and getting to her feet before she could sink any deeper into her thoughts. Golden-brown eyes blinked up at her in surprise, and Bruni squeaked as he was rudely jostled from where he had been comfortably resting only a moment ago; the fifth spirit knelt down and offered him her palm as an apology, and he curled into it with a happy little sigh as she brought him in close. “If Bruni was so upset, the earth giants are probably worrying and the Nokk might still be agitated. And if Gale picked up any of this, I’ll never hear the end of it from Anna.”

“Elsa--”

“Thank you for your help, Honymaren. All of it. I’ve, I’ve really appreciated it.”

“Elsa, wait--”

It was too late, though; even as Honeymaren scrambled to her feet, bracing a hand on her reindeer to steady her, the blonde was already moving, using her ice magic to let her pick up the pace. By the time she was fully standing, gripping the blanket she’d brought from home, Elsa was already gone.

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In her defense, Elsa didn’t avoid Honeymaren on purpose over the next few days after that conversation. She had needed to check in on the spirits, and by the time she had finished calming down the Nokk and the earth giants she’d realized she’d completely lost track of Gale, which could only mean one thing. By the time she’d managed to ride down the fjord the damage had been done, and she had been greeted in the docks by an immensely concerned Anna and a deeply amused but still slightly worried Kristoff.

What had initially been meant as a short visit to soothe her little sister had turned into at least one day in Arendelle, as Elsa had been coaxed into spending the night, and then had spent the rest of the next day being pulled into every sort of thing that Anna could think of in an attempt to lift her spirits. By the time the blonde had finally managed to return to the forest it was almost nightfall, and by then she had seen no point in bothering anyone from the tribe when it was already so late.

So the fact that she hadn’t seen Honeymaren in two days had genuinely not been something Elsa had purposely planned, but she would take advantage of the distance to compose herself. It had been one thing to open the gates of Arendelle, three years ago. It had been one thing to open the door for herself at Atohallan and finally embrace her power for what it truly was, because in both of those cases she had ultimately ended up needing to do it—opening the gates had made Anna happy and had been part of her attempt to be more open in general, and opening the door in Atohallan had given her a sense of inner peace she had only briefly known during her first eight years of life.

Opening herself up to another person was a whole other thing entirely, especially when that person wasn’t… well, Anna. Or Kai. Or even Kristoff. Opening up to people was still difficult for Elsa, and a little frightening, and for the most part it came the easiest with people she had known long enough to already trust herself, or with people those she loved trusted.

Honeymaren had been a good friend since Elsa had decided to stay in the forest. She had been nothing but friendly and supportive when Elsa had come to her asking her for help with her sleep, and they had plenty in common as elder siblings even if the twins had never spent thirteen years apart. The fact that she was stronger than she looked and pretty wasn’t… really related to any of that, exactly, but it appealed to something in Elsa that she was still a little nervous to name, and made their already tentative friendship slightly complicated in a way she hadn’t expected. It wasn’t fair to her to compare her to Hans just because of one moment, and yet…

And yet, even if it had been the result of exhaustion and an old wound that ran skin deep, Elsa couldn’t shake the thought that Hans had been just as friendly, just as supportive, just as eager to help, and in the end all of that had built up to the moment he’d tried to kill her. It wasn’t fair to Honeymaren to make the comparison and she knew that, but that conversation after waking up had also been the first time she’d really talked to anyone who wasn’t Anna about her sleeping problems.

She didn’t know how to deal with that, with being that open—especially when it had happened to begin with because she was exhausted. She didn’t know how to process Honeymaren’s softness, her understanding, when in the worst way possible it reminded her of Hans even though she knew it was coming from a genuine place. So she had run away from it, and maybe she hadn’t planned to be away from her friend for two days, but she could admit that staying away from the Northuldra for most of the third day had definitely been on purpose.

On the plus side, at least her sleep had been… better, these last two days. Not entirely perfect, but it was the most sleep she’d had recently, and she’d take it. Some sleep was better than no sleep at all, and it had partially restored some of the energy from her earlier crash. It would take a few days for her to be fully recovered—this had been a particularly bad one, even for her—but she was at a point where she could comfortably function.

Elsa had learned to count the small victories.

She couldn’t put it off forever, though. Anna was becoming quite the efficient little diplomat, and during Elsa’s time in her birth kingdom she had passed her older sister her first formal request to Yelena to meet and discuss the merits of introducing the magic of the forest to the citizens of Arendelle. It was a well written letter—Anna had clearly read and reread the document multiple times before settling on the final version, and even then she’d had Elsa sit down and read it herself to triple check it—and while Elsa had never doubted her sister’s abilities as queen, it still made her proud to see how far she’d come in such a short time.

The letter was currently tucked away safely in her pouch, somewhere Elsa knew it wouldn’t be damaged. And as much as a part of her still wanted to stay away from the Northuldra because approaching them meant potentially crossing paths with Honeymaren, her favor to Anna won out over her nerves about seeing the other woman again after their last encounter. The tribe was fairly big anyway, and she could be in and out while only seeing Yelena. Visiting didn’t mean she had to see Honeymaren; it just meant she had to be quick enough to avoid her if she was present, or hope that she was out tending to the reindeer herd with Ryder.

And if she was there, well, Elsa would deal with it. She had a job to do, and she’d had two days of reasonably acceptable sleep, and Anna had smiled so happily when she’d taken her letter and called her the kingdom’s ambassador to the Northuldra. The blonde could do, had done, a lot of things over the course of her twenty-four years of life; letting her sister down was not one of those things.

So it was that Elsa rode into the tribe’s latest settlement on the Nokk’s back, Bruni tucked under her hair and dozing. She swung off the water spirit carefully and lifted a hand in greeting when she saw Yelena, who thankfully was nearby and even more thankfully waved back and seemed to be in a relatively good mood.

“Please tell me you don’t have anymore photographs from the general,” the older woman said as Elsa approached.

Elsa smiled sheepishly. “I have a letter from Anna and photographs from Mattias?”

“That man,” Yelena sighed, but there was a warm tone to it that Elsa recognized all too well when she spoke of Anna to other people. “You’d think we don’t write to each other, with how often he sends you back with those things.”

Elsa gave a slight shrug, already handing the documents over as Yelena held out her hand for them. The tribe leader set aside Mattias’s photographs with gentle care, then unfolded Anna’s letter and silently read. After a moment, she glanced at the blonde. “You approve of this plan, I assume?”

“I think it’s worth considering,” she said cautiously, unable to read Yelena’s tone. “The kingdom views my magic fondly, and it would still be a gradual introduction. I just… if another child like me is ever born, knowing about the forest and the spirits here might help.”

Yelena thought this over for a moment, and Elsa let her have the silence as she reread Anna’s request a few times. After a moment she nodded, handing the letter back to her. “Very well,” she said. “I would prefer to do this slowly. It’ll be a lot for your people to take, even after spending three years with you as queen.”

“Of course. We’ll follow your advice on this.”

“I’ll set up arrangements to meet with Anna, and you can let her know when to expect us next time you visit. We can discuss it in more detail then, but for now...” Yelena frowned thoughtfully, before she nodded. “Speak with Honeymaren.”

That wasn’t what Elsa had been expecting, and it must have been showing on her face because Yelena lifted a brow. “You do remember who she is, yes?” she asked. “I know you’ve been away from us for a few days, but I assumed from how much time you two spent together...”

“I remember Honeymaren!” Elsa yelped, and could have cursed at the heat she felt rushing into her cheeks. “I saw her right before I left for Arendelle.”

Yelena’s other brow went up, now. “Ah.”

It was only one word, but the tone of voice and the expression on her face somehow managed to convey everything the older woman wasn’t saying, and not for the first time Elsa found herself wondering if she’d made a huge mistake by leaving Honeymaren the way she had to check on the spirits and then go to Arendelle. It had been a thought she’d shoved into the deepest, darkest corners of her mind, but she was beginning to let it surface again.

“Anyway,” she continued hastily, hating the fact that her blush only deepened, “I can speak with Honeymaren about this, yes.”

“Very good.” Yelena nodded, after a moment. “She’s got a good head on her shoulders, and she’s spent enough time as of late with you and the other spirits to be reasonably comfortable with them. I’ll speak with your sister, and you can see about getting her involved so this isn’t all on you.”

Yelena was doing this to help. Yelena was doing this because asking one half of the fifth spirit to wrangle all of the other spirits for a potential interaction with Arendelle was still asking too much of one person, and she wasn’t wrong on her point about Honeymaren. What Yelena was doing was perfectly logical.

Yelena was doing this to help.

Elsa really had to remind herself of that, over and over, because at the moment it felt like the exact opposite of helping.

“Thank you,” the blonde said. “I appreciate you thinking of me.”

Yelena waved a hand. It was a clear dismissal, and Elsa swung back up onto the Nokk with far more grace than she felt. The sudden movement made Bruni squeak and jolt, but he didn’t slip from his perch and he settled down again easily enough as she urged the water spirit on. It wasn’t like him to be this cuddly for so long, but Elsa would take it without thinking about it; she found the warmth of him steadying at the moment.

Elsa had just left the tribe when she realized she’d never asked Yelena where Honeymaren was, and she groaned quietly, rubbing her temples. After the older woman’s behavior she didn’t want to turn around and ask her for help, and after a moment of thought she patted the Nokk’s neck. “What do you think, bud?” she murmured, and its ears flicked back in response to her voice. “You think you know Honeymaren well enough at this point to figure out where she could be? It’d really help me.”

The Nokk tossed its head and snorted, and she gave its neck another pat before loosening her grip on its watery mane enough to let it go in whatever direction it so chose. The horse picked up the pace, settling into an easy trot, and Elsa closed her eyes to let the ride pass faster. She was fairly well rested after two days, but she could still feel exhaustion lingering in her bones—it would take more than that for her to go back to feeling anything even remotely close to normal, and she buried the feeling swiftly. The last thing she needed was to nearly fall off the Nokk a second time while looking for Honeymaren.

She still needed to apologize to the brunette for her behavior from the first time it had happened. Elsa wasn’t looking forward to that conversation, but one thing at a time.

Despite her best attempts she must have at least started to doze off, because the Nokk’s sudden neigh to announce their presence jolted her more deeply than she expected. She grimaced and rubbed her eyes, sighing as Bruni nudged into her fingers; she managed a smile at his happy purr, though, and gently stroked his back as Honeymaren’s reindeer answered with a greeting of her own. A quick glance around confirmed they were in one of the grazing fields that the Northuldra used for their herd, though she only saw a few stragglers grazing instead of the full bulk of them. There was no sign of Ryder either, and the knowledge that she was once again alone with her friend made her stomach clench.

No. No, she could do this. She could. All she had to do was focus on business and, when that was done, apologize for how she had behaved in the wake of her sudden crash. She’d handled far more awkward situations than this, even if she couldn’t think of any immediately off the top of her head. Those situations also hadn’t involved the person she was closest to after, well, people she considered family, and they hadn’t involved a person her awful, awful mind occasionally liked to remind her she found attractive.

She really hoped that last part was the result of her lingering sleep deprivation.

“Elsa,” Honeymaren said cautiously as she eased her reindeer into a stop, sliding off of her back. “I wasn’t aware you’d returned from Arendelle.”

Right. Of course Honeymaren would know she had returned to Arendelle, somehow. Why wouldn’t she know that? It wasn’t like it was a secret where Elsa was from, and it was safe to assume that if she wasn’t with the Northuldra in the forest or visiting Atohallan she had returned to her birth kingdom. But her careful tone made the blonde uneasy, and she rested a hand on the Nokk’s neck after swinging off of it to steady herself. “I’ve only been back since yesterday,” she said, keeping her tone light. “And I didn’t immediately check in with the tribe after, so.”

“You know you don’t have to check in with us, right?”

Elsa knew that. Of course she knew that. Even if she didn’t visit the Northuldra after returning from Arendelle, the behavior of the spirits would be enough to give away her presence in the forest. “I like being polite,” she said with a slight shrug.

Honeymaren hummed. “Just not this time?”

She’d walked herself right into that one.

“… I had a lot to think about.” Bruni squeaked and pressed into the spot where her shoulder met her neck, sensing the hesitation in her voice, and Elsa didn’t grimace even though at the moment she very much wanted to. Honeymaren being upset with her after her previous behavior was more than justified, and she should have prepared herself better for it.

But Honeymaren didn’t get angry. She didn’t immediately leave her reindeer and storm up to Elsa to demand she explain herself, she didn’t swing back onto that same reindeer and ride away, and when she spoke her voice wasn’t lifted in a shout; if anything it was almost painfully soft, like she was speaking to a spooked animal. “Did going back to Arendelle help at all?” she asked, and something in the blonde felt like it cracked and healed all at once.

-“Don’t be the monster they fear you are!”-

Dammit. Elsa almost wished now that her friend was angry.

She gave the Nokk’s neck a pat to steady herself and it snorted softly, turning its head to press its muzzle into her palm. “A little bit, yes. I got some sleep, at least.”

A single dark brow arched. “Without drinking any of that tea, I hope?”

That made the blonde chuckle, even as an old wound inside of her ached. “No, no tea. No ingredients on hand for it and Anna never learned the recipe from Mother. She didn’t need it like I did.”

Anna had always dealt with her scars differently—and Elsa didn’t doubt her sister had scars. But where she had buried them, had tried her hardest to hide them until they were practically ripped out of her hands and forced out into the open, Anna had always talked about her pains, had always been nothing but open and honest. If she’d ever had any trouble sleeping because of nightmares Elsa was genuinely unaware of it, and even the brief thought of sharing this particular burden with her younger sister hurt. It still… stung to realize, in some ways, that she was the last person carrying this particular part of Iduna.

She didn’t say any of this, of course, and she hadn’t thought any of it showed on her face very much, but something must have given her away because golden-brown eyes softened. “Now that you’re back you can write it down,” the other woman said. “That recipe, I mean.”

Elsa snorted, and now it was her turn to lift a brow. “You still want me to remember how to make that after what happened between us?”

She hadn’t meant to word it like that. She hadn’t! She’d just been stating a truth, but only a second after the words left her mouth she realized how they sounded and immediately wished she had the magical ability to physically yank words back into her body. Unfortunately she hadn’t thought before speaking, and now something entirely too wicked was sparking in Honeymaren’s eyes at the blonde’s words. After a moment she draped an arm over her reindeer as she pressed into her side, grinning.

It wasn’t fair that Elsa simultaneously didn’t like what that grin meant and yet found it insanely attractive. It wasn’t fair at all. She was already nearly melting into the ground as it was as all of the blood rushed into her face, and how she felt about that grin wasn’t helping.

“So I don’t have pretty eyes?” Honeymaren asked innocently, still grinning, and then she collapsed into laughter as Elsa groaned, burying her face in her hands. The sudden jolt of movement made Bruni squawk in disapproval and he hopped off of her to more stable ground. Considering her emotional state at the moment, she found she didn’t blame him. She had the distinct feeling ice was forming at her feet.

“If I say you do can we forget that ever happened?” she muttered, feeling her blush spread up to her ears and down her neck as Honeymaren’s laughter faded into quiet giggles.

“Should I point out that you’re the one who made it sound like you tried to--” “No.”

The brunette swallowed her laughter gamely, smiling when Elsa risked peeking at her from between her fingers. “Then you can say I have pretty eyes,” she said. “But uh, sorry, I think it’s going to be pretty hard for me to forget it happened.”

Elsa let her hands fall away from her face and resisted the urge to sigh. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy; it never was for her, when it came to this sort of thing. If nothing else, she supposed she was lucky it had only happened with two people so far who cared about her, and not someone who was inclined to use that sort of information against her. Maybe this whole moment, awkward as it was, was an opportunity. She had business to discuss and of course she would discuss it, because it was important and she wasn’t going to completely ignore her duty as a representative of Arendelle, but…

This was a chance though, now that they were already talking about it. Elsa was painfully aware that none of her behavior had been appropriate, and she had thought long and hard about apologizing for it during her time in Arendelle when Anna had given her a rare moment to catch her breath. She’d been rude to leave Honeymaren the way she had, especially after everything the other woman had done for her since she had decided to stay in the forest with the Northuldra, and her behavior as she had been crashing…

It had crossed a line. Obviously. There was no question about that, regardless of how Honeymaren had reacted to it at the time. She’d been kind enough to not bring it up after, but Elsa remembered it all clearly after a few days of rest and knew she had definitely gotten too close to her friend, as much as some part of her had enjoyed it. Anna had her request and she knew that was important, but Yelena had wanted Honeymaren involved and the whole thing would die a quick death if Elsa didn’t clear the air between them.

“Actually,” she began, fidgeting with her hands and fighting the urge to look away, “can we—can we talk about that? If it’s okay with you, I mean, but… I want to talk about it. Or, well, I-I want to apologize, more specifically.”

Her nerves must have given away how serious this was, because she saw the way her friend softened before she nodded. She turned back to her reindeer and murmured something into her ear, giving the animal a gentle pat as it left them to join a few of her herd mates. “We can sit here,” she said, gesturing towards a rock near the center of the meadow. “That way I can keep on eye on these guys and see if anyone is approaching us.”

Elsa followed her the few steps to the rock and cautiously settled down next to Honeymaren, keeping a respectable distance between them. She didn’t need to send the Nokk away; the spirit had already departed, sensing its role for the time being was complete, and Bruni wasted no time scrambling up onto her knee now that she was reasonably still, curling up into a small ball. “You don’t have the whole herd today?”

Honeymaren shook her head, leaning back against the rock and stretching. “Just some of the elderly ones who can’t move very well. Ryder took the others to a different area of the forest so we don’t over graze. He’ll be with them for awhile, so we should be okay.”

Right. That was a good thing. Because Elsa wanted to talk.

She wasn’t brave this time; she should have been, but she wasn’t. She lowered her gaze to where Bruni was curled up on her knee and quietly ran a grounding hand over his back, swallowing. “I just wanted to apologize for what I did before I left for Arendelle. I was short with you when you were trying to help, and that was… that was wrong of me.”

“I was actually a little annoyed by that, I won’t lie,” Honeymaren sighed.

“I don’t blame you. I’m… I’m sorry. I should have handled it better.”

There was a moment of silence as the brunette thought that over. She was quiet long enough that Elsa risked a glance at her, wanting to at least get a glimpse of what she was thinking, and she blinked when their eyes met. Her friend chuckled, gently bumping their shoulders together. “There we go,” she said softly. “I was wondering if you’d ever look at me.”

“Um.” Elsa resisted the urge to look away. “I’m… sorry?”

“You’ve already apologized once, Elsa, you’re fine.” Honeymaren gave her another bump, affectionate, and settled down a little closer to her than she’d been when they’d first sat down and started talking. “Honestly, I got over it pretty quickly.” She paused for a moment, then rubbed the back of her neck. “Can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to, I’m just… curious.”

“Go ahead.”

“Was that the first time you’ve… you know, talked to someone about how the problems you’re experiencing? Besides Anna, obviously, I assume you talked to her about it in Arendelle.”

“… No.” It was a whisper, hoarse, and Elsa’s eyes dropped down to Bruni again as he stirred, sensing his fellow spirit’s distress. “I mean, not, not exactly. I didn’t talk to him about it, really, but he… he saw me at one of my worst moments. He saw what the problem was pretty clearly.”

“I assume he didn’t take it well.”

A bark of laughter escaped the former queen; they were close enough together that she felt Honeymaren jolt slightly at the rough sound of it and Bruni squeaked, concerned and fully awake now. She rested a soothing hand on his head, swallowing to compose herself. “It’s a very long story,” she said when she’d managed to calm down a little. “To try and keep it short, he broke my sister’s heart and tried to kill me after I trusted him enough to let my guard down around him.”

The stunned silence that followed her statement almost made her laugh again. Almost.

“So yeah,” she sighed, meeting Honeymaren’s gaze and smiling weakly. “You could say he didn’t take it well, I guess.”

“That’s a heck of an understatement.” The huntress grimaced. “I’m—I’m sorry if I brought back bad memories, from the way you reacted I was just wondering. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“You’re fine, Honeymaren. You told me I didn’t have to answer you if I didn’t want to.” Bruni had crept further up her leg, pressing comforting into her hip as he curled into a ball again, and the warmth of him was soothing. “You deserved to know, anyway, it’s not… it’s not fair that I compared you to him like that, even in my thoughts. You’ve been nothing but kind to me since I decided to stay here in the forest.”

Elsa had rested her free hand on ground between her and Honeymaren as they talked, flexing her fingers absently to ward off the chill that always seemed to swell inside of her whenever she talked about Hans. As she watched, the other woman hesitated, then tentatively reached her hand. “Is this okay?” she asked, not moving an inch.

The blonde nodded, following up with a soft “Yes” a moment after when she realized words would probably help more as confirmation even though Honeymaren could see her. The brunette wasted no time with permission granted; she gave Elsa a reassuring smile as she rested her hand over hers, squeezing gently. Ice blue eyes dropped to their hands, as the other woman felt sudden warmth bloom to combat the magic pulsing through her veins from old memories. After a moment of thought Elsa inhaled quietly and turned her hand over, her palm meeting Honeymaren’s, and laced their fingers together.

The warmth spread throughout her body, calming the blizzard that had started to swirl inside of her. Honeymaren didn’t pull away, and Elsa took that as another good sign.

“Funny thing about thoughts,” her friend murmured, and the fifth spirit looked up at her again. “You can’t always control where they go, especially with painful memories.” She gave Elsa’s hand another squeeze. “Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me, Elsa.”

Elsa shrugged. “You deserved to know. Like I said, you’ve been very kind to me. Even before I decided to stay here with the Northuldra, you were kind.”

“You keep saying that like I needed a reason to just be nice.”

She snorted. It wasn’t the sort of sound expected of a queen, but she wasn’t a queen anymore. “Hans had a reason.” She caught herself a moment later and winced, sighing as she rubbed her eyes with her free hand. “Sorry, I’m sorry. That’s not fair.”

Honeymaren didn’t say anything, though Elsa could feel her eyes on her. She simply held her hand, her grip gentle and warm, and waited. She lowered her other hand back down to Bruni, blowing out a breath as he nuzzled into her fingers.

“… It’s funny,” she finally murmured. “I had no idea he got to me like this. We weren’t even particularly close. I think we only spoke to each other three, maybe four times.”

“Did you trust him?”

“Not—not at first. Anna did immediately, but she was… our parents, they...” Elsa grimaced. The words were there, she could feel them in her throat, but she couldn’t say them. Didn’t know how to say them, without making it seem like Agnarr and Iduna hadn’t cared. They had, she’d known they had, but they’d gotten so much wrong despite their best intentions. It was still painful for her to admit that, even six years later.

“But you trusted him eventually,” Honeymaren coaxed, gracefully side stepping the struggle she saw her friend going through, and that gentle understanding was back in her eyes.

It made Elsa want to run and hide. Made her want to slam the door shut behind her and throw away the key.

It made Elsa want to stand and face what came next. Made her want to open the door and step through it to see what was on the other side.

She didn’t know how to put that into words either, so she simply smiled gratefully at the other woman for avoiding the topic of her parents. “Eventually,” she said. “He—he saw me at my worst and he said he didn’t see me as a monster. I thought he was a good enough man to look after Anna, once I was gone.” The smile twisted into a grimace. “Thinking back on it now, maybe he was lying when he said those words to me. I don’t know. He wasn’t even the first person to say to me that he didn’t think I was a monster, Anna followed me up the mountain first, but I was just… I was so scared of hurting her then that nothing she was actually saying got through to me.”

Honeymaren shrugged, after a moment. “You don’t need to justify it. Even if it was only a little, you let your guard down enough to trust him with something important to you, and he ended up using it against you. That’s going to hurt no matter what.”

Elsa didn’t have a response to that; any words she thought of melted on her tongue before they even left her mouth, so she contented herself with a quiet hum in response as she dropped her gaze to their still joined hands. “I think I got scared,” she murmured.

“Before you left for Arendelle?” There was no accusation there—just the question.

“Yes. Hans was—even when I started to trust him, it wasn’t anything I did, if that makes sense? He saw what was happening because of me and he reacted to it. The only person I’ve ever opened up to on my own was… was Anna, before I met you. I’m, um...” Elsa laughed nervously, hating the way she felt faint warmth flood her cheeks. “I’m not usually very… warm, I guess? To people I don’t know. Even talking to you when I first came here was… different, for me.”

“You and Kristoff seem like family.”

“We are! We are, I love him, but that wasn’t—that wasn’t me, either. We met through Anna and figured each other out because we both love her.” It had certainly been easier than Elsa had expected, too, bonding with Kristoff, but it had helped that fundamentally they were the same: two quiet people who really didn’t socialize. Without Anna’s influence, she was fairly sure they never would have bothered with each other. She couldn’t imagine it now—Kristoff was, in so many ways, a brother to her—but it was the truth, knowing how he was and knowing how she was.

Honeymaren tilted her head slightly, grinning. “So I was your first?”

“… Please don’t word it like that.”

“Sorry.”

Elsa giggled, despite the fact that she could definitely tell her blush had gotten deeper. “No you aren’t.”

“No I’m not,” Honeymaren admitted. “Especially since it got you to laugh.”

Without hesitating, the blonde scooped Bruni up into her free hand and threw him at her friend—gently, of course, and he was in a semi-normal state so it wouldn’t have done much damage when he made contact, but it was still worth it to hear the brunette yelp as the salamander collided with her body and briefly let off steam before he realized he was touching a regular person and not a fellow spirit. Bruni for his part simply squeaked in delight as he tumbled down into Honeymaren’s lap, thoroughly enjoying the whole thing, and curled up in a tight ball once he had settled in one place.

“Back to what I was saying before you decided to be funny--”

“I just want to say it was still totally worth it.”

Elsa pressed her hand to her mouth, trying and partially failing to muffle the laughter she could feel bubbling up inside her. It was a losing battle though and she finally gave in, collapsing into giggles and letting it ride out as Honeymaren chuckled next to her. She held on to her hand maybe a little too tightly through the whole thing, but the other woman didn’t ask her to let go, and it… it felt nice. This all felt nice. Very unexpected, but still nice.

Honeymaren’s grin had softened into a smile, once Elsa’s laughter had finally faded. “See?” she said, and her voice was gentle. “You’re plenty warm.”

“When I want to be,” she replied instantly, and appreciated the way the huntress bit her tongue on the retort she clearly wanted to say. “And this is all with you, so that kind of proves my whole point that you’ve just been… different, for me.” She went quiet for a moment, then inhaled shakily. “And I think that’s why I got so scared. I’ve never done this before, and the last time I even got close the person I let in ended up trying to kill me.”

“I don’t think it should count when the person in question was probably manipulating you, Elsa.”

“I still let him in.”

Honeymaren gently tugged her hand free and despite herself Elsa flinched, wondering if something she had said or done had finally been too much. Then she wasn’t wondering anything at all, because the brunette had carefully set Bruni aside and had scooted close enough to gently grip her face with both hands, making their eyes meet. Her hold was loose enough that Elsa could have pulled away if she wanted to, but she was suddenly in no rush to move at all. Honeymaren’s eyes were intense, almost golden, and she couldn’t have looked away even if her life depended on it.

“I don’t know everything that happened between you and this Hans,” she began, then hesitated and took a deep breath as if to calm herself. “Obviously. But you need to stop… doing that.”

Elsa swallowed. “Stop doing what?”

“Blaming yourself for it. It sounds like you were weak, or scared, or vulnerable in some way and he took advantage of that, and that isn’t your fault, Elsa, okay? Being scared after that is completely, totally justified and I get it. You trusted him, and he betrayed that trust. And I know, I know I said before that something like that shouldn’t count, but it clearly did to you and that’s okay, too.” Honeymaren inhaled quietly and seemed to force herself to relax, easing back a little. “Just… stop apologizing to me about it, and stop blaming yourself for letting him in. Yeah, I got annoyed before, but only because you ran off without explaining anything. Everything else you’re feeling about me is totally justified, and I don’t mind doing this at your pace if it helps you at all.”

She needed to swallow again, Elsa thought hazily. She needed to do something, because somewhere in Honeymaren’s speech her mouth had gone suddenly, painfully dry. But every attempt to try and swallow was just a thought with how hot and tight her throat was suddenly feeling, and all she could do was grip her friend—because Honeymaren was her friend, she was, and that confirmation made something painful in the best way possible lance through her chest—by her wrists as she closed her eyes, sucking in a ragged, shaking breath. She’d never doubted that particular thought, that Honeymaren was her friend, but she’d tied it up so much into the idea that she was so kind, so patient, so open and honest that she hadn’t even realized that until this moment, a part of her had still been waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“So I just, um...” The brunette trailed off, and her awkward silence made Elsa open her eyes again; she was uncertain now, hesitant, as she eased her hands down from her face. “I just, I need to know what you want from me now, I guess. Because I know I want us to be friends, I’ve really liked us being friends, but… I don’t want to cross any lines.”

She hadn’t pulled away from the blonde’s grip on her wrists, and the distance between them was still almost laughably small even though she had pulled away some presumably to give her room to breathe. Elsa needed to say something now; she knew the power of words, she knew that was what Honeymaren was looking for. Some kind of verbal confirmation, easy to understand and fall back on, for where they went from this moment.

Elsa needed to say something. She knew that. The thing was, what she had originally intended to just be a short apology before shifting to other topics had ended up becoming a full blown soul baring session, and the thing about baring one’s soul was that often times it took up a great deal of energy. Continuing from that particular fact, Elsa didn’t have a large store of energy at the moment; she’d certainly slept more during her return to Arendelle than she had in recent memory, but it overall it was comparable to a small drop of water in a very large pond.

The end result was that she had just finished an emotionally draining conversation wherein the other half of said conversation was waiting for her to say something, and she was finding she didn’t have the energy to come up with anything matching what Honeymaren had said to her. Something short and sweet, maybe, but Elsa had never been the smoothest sort about that kind of thing.

Well, Anna had mentioned during her visit to Arendelle—with a mix of sheepishness and pride—that she had drawn some of her own cues as the new queen from Elsa’s behavior during her reign. While the blonde didn’t think she was the best person to draw inspiration from, maybe she could cheat this once and take a page out of her sister’s book. Anna always had inspired her, after all.

Feel it, don’t conceal it.

Open the door.

“You’re my friend,” Elsa breathed, and the words were so soft that she was certain she didn’t say them at all; but she must have, because Honeymaren smiled, and it was soft and bright and everything. “You’re my friend,” she repeated, a little louder, and even though she pulled away from the other woman’s grip on her face, she didn’t let go of her wrists. “I want us to be friends, I might just be… slow about everything else you said, for awhile. I tend to move slowly. But I’ve liked, I’ve liked us being friends, too.”

“Okay.” Honeymaren was still smiling as she shifted, pulling away gently and settling back against the rock they’d both been leaning on a moment ago. “I can work with that, Elsa. You’ll find I’m a very patient person.”

“I already know you’re a patient person, Honeymaren. Considering how you’ve been handling… this whole situation with me.” Elsa settled down against the rock next to Honeymaren, after only the slightest hesitation, mindful of the fact that there still wasn’t much distance between them.

“I’m also a very patient person with my friends.”

“I’m starting to get the feeling you’re just a patient person in general.”

Honeymaren chuckled, closing her eyes with an amused hum. “I like to say I am,” she said. “Ryder might not always agree with me, but I like to believe he doesn’t count. It’s different with your sibling.”

“It is,” Elsa agreed. Her thoughts drifted briefly to Anna, but her eyes were very much on the woman beside her. “I, um, need to talk to you about something regarding my sister, actually.”

Honeymaren cracked open an eye look at her. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. But… do you think it could wait a little longer? I want—I want to try something. I’m still… really tired, and I wanted to see if this might help.”

“You want to cuddle into me again because it helps you sleep?” Elsa choked. She wasn’t eating anything, she just sort of choked on air. The sound of it coupled with her sudden deep blush made Honeymaren collapse into laughter, something so deep that she shook with the force of it.

“Elsa,” she managed to gasp out when her giggles faded enough for her to speak, “you do realize you’ve already fallen asleep on me twice before now, right?”

“I—have I?” Elsa squeaked, feeling her blush deepen at this information.

“Oh, yeah. You fell asleep against my back after we found those herbs for your tea returning to the tribe, and when you nearly fell off the Nokk you were out for a few hours on my shoulder. I think you fell asleep while I was carrying you. You were kind of loopy at the time, though, so I’m not shocked you don’t remember.”

“I…” The blonde cleared her throat, swallowing back the immediate apology that nearly forced itself past her lips. “You never said anything.”

“I didn’t mind. I was glad you trusted me so much to do it in the first place, and honestly…” Now Honeymaren blushed, faintly, fiddling with her hands. “I liked it. I liked, I don’t know, that you thought we were close enough that it was okay, even if you were exhausted.”

Oh.

That was something to think about… later. After she’d gotten some sleep, and they’d both figured out how their friendship was going to look like from this moment on, they’d come back to this conversation and go deeper into everything that was being implied and left unsaid. There was time for them to do that, now, and the thought of it sent a slight shiver down Elsa’s back.

The door was open, just a crack. It was a start.

Honeymaren was still staring at her hands, even as her blush began to fade, and Elsa saw her chance. She’d said she’d liked it, and the former queen had already fallen asleep on her twice without any complaints. Surely luck was on her side and the third time would be the charm? Elsa hoped so.

She scooted closer before she could think about it too deeply, closing the distance between them and pressing into Honeymaren’s side. After only a moment’s hesitation she rested her head against the brunette’s shoulder and sighed, closing her eyes and trying not to hold her breath for the rejection she was still half sure was coming despite her friend’s words.

Honeymaren jolted, but only for a moment; right when Elsa was starting to wonder if she had finally pushed too far, the other woman relaxed with a quiet breath and leaned back into her, hesitantly draping an arm over her shoulders and tucking the blonde more comfortably into her. After another moment, she shifted a little and rested her cheek against pale strands of hair, closing her eyes as well.

And as Elsa finally had the best sleep she’d had since leaving Arendelle, the door she’d started to crack open moved just a few more inches.

#elsamaren #Elsa #Honeymaren #elsa x honeymaren #frozen #frozen 2 #my writing

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